Social Expectation
Kakashi found himself hanging around Iruka-sensei's space more often, after that. Why? He wasn't entirely certain, and it honestly made very little sense to him. But something about the way Iruka-sensei had spoken made Kakashi curious.
He wondered, as he peered at Iruka-sensei from between the branches of the tree just off the Academy's property, why Hiruzen had asked him to keep an eye on the teacher. If anything, Iruka-sensei seemed more capable of handling himself than many people did.
But a few evenings later, when it finally occurred to him to watch Iruka-sensei at home, he caught a glimpse and thought he understood.
Iruka-sensei lay curled on his bed, on top of the blankets, still dressed in his uniform blacks and with his hair tied up and hitai-ate knotted behind his head, clutching his pillow and crying silently.
Kakashi blinked once, his only concession to surprise.
Iruka-sensei cried for over an hour before, sniffling, he reached for his tissues and blew his nose.
And then he broke down crying again.
It was... shocking.
Kakashi watched in awe and morbid curiosity, so entranced that he barely noticed the hours pass.
When Iruka-sensei stopped crying, finally, he untied his hitai-ate. But he didn't get up to change into pyjamas, and he didn't turn out the lights. Instead, he only laid in bed, tossing and turning, with worry creased deeply into his brow.
Kakashi finally left when dawn broke, deep in thought and completely bewildered by whatever he had just witnessed.
Iruka-sensei was at the Academy only a short time later, his hair perky in its usual ponytail, warmth in his eyes, his uniform tidy. If Kakashi hadn't just spent the entire night watching Iruka-sensei completely fail to sleep, he never would have guessed Iruka-sensei was anything less than perfectly-rested and fully refreshed.
"How long has it been since you've gotten a full night's rest?" Kakashi asked, falling into step with Iruka-sensei as the teacher left the Mission Assignment Desk that evening.
Iruka-sensei gave Kakashi a startled look and held his notebooks a little closer to his chest.
"Who says I haven't been?" he dared.
"Are you denying it?" Kakashi asked, slipping his hands into his pockets.
"Are you spying on me?" Iruka-sensei challenged back.
"Naruto will want updates on how you're doing," Kakashi said vaguely.
"So you're spying on me," Iruka-sensei said flatly.
"Just dropped by once or twice," Kakashi acknowledged embarrassedly. "I don't make a habit of spying on anyone in Konoha."
Iruka-sensei narrowed his eyes slightly at Kakashi, but then he said, "I worry about Naruto. That's all. You can tell him I'm fine."
Kakashi smiled over his mask. "So how long has it been since you've gotten a full night's rest?" he asked mildly.
Iruka-sensei coloured and looked away.
"I'm fine."
"Mah, sensei, a wise man recently told me that we have to take care of ourselves in order to take care of others."
Iruka-sensei's jaw set; he clearly didn't like having his words tossed back at him.
"Why don't we get a drink this evening, sensei?" Kakashi asked. "I wouldn't mind a flask of hot sake, or maybe a whiskey."
Iruka-sensei shot Kakashi another startled look.
"I can't," he said quickly. "School–"
"It's a Friday night," Kakashi reminded him. "You can just say no, if you don't want to. You don't need to make up excuses."
Iruka-sensei flushed.
"Oh. Right. No, it's not– I mean– I just–" He chuckled awkwardly. "I... um, don't handle alcohol well."
"Oh?" Kakashi asked, curiosity piqued.
"Yeah," Iruka-sensei mumbled, looking away.
"What happens?" Kakashi asked despite himself. "When you drink."
"I just get... affectionate," Iruka-sensei mumbled. "And sleepy."
"Well, sleepy is the idea," Kakashi observed lightly. "And I think I can handle an affectionate Iruka-sensei."
Iruka-sensei choked on nothing and coughed.
"You really don't have to– I mean– I don't like to use alcohol that way, you know?" Iruka-sensei said desperately. "I've seen enough people drink unhealthily, and–"
"What way?" Kakashi broke in, legitimately curious.
"Like... as a way to manage stress or something. Or to help me sleep."
"What about just to socialise?" Kakashi asked, slanting a look at the teacher.
Iruka-sensei caught the look and blushed more darkly.
"I... don't."
"Don't?" Kakashi asked, one eyebrow going up.
"Socialise," Iruka-sensei admitted quietly. "Ehm. This is me." He gestured with a jerk of his chin at the apartment building.
"What about your friends?" Kakashi asked, suppressing a frown. He made a small motion toward the building, as if to indicate that he would follow Iruka-sensei to his apartment.
Iruka-sensei smiled awkwardly and took the hint, climbing the stairs up to the upper-level apartments.
"We spend time together at work. I don't really spend time with them outside of work."
Kakashi's frown became more difficult to suppress. He recalled Hiruzen saying that Iruka didn't have many friends, but he had found it difficult to believe then. It was shocking to hear now, from Iruka's own mouth.
"Do you prefer not to?" Kakashi heard himself ask.
He watched the way Iruka-sensei climbed the stairs, back straight and stiff, like it still ached.
And goodness, Kakashi had never noticed before, but from this angle, he could tell that Iruka-sensei had a rather nice shape, didn't he? He wondered what it would be like, to run his hands over those muscles, those planes and curves, just to feel them.
"Generally," Iruka-sensei said with a one-shouldered shrug. "I like to have quiet time to myself, and since I have two jobs...."
"But you never want to socialise?" Kakashi pressed. "Not that you need to – I rarely do, myself – but I must admit it surprises me."
Iruka-sensei was silent for a long moment as they reached a landing and walked down the cement walkway to his doorway.
"I don't like it when people expect me to socialise often," he said slowly, opening the door. "I wouldn't mind socialising every so often, but when that becomes an expectation, people get... disappointed if I don't go out and socialise. I prefer avoiding that sort of expectation altogether. ...Would... you like some tea?"
Kakashi's brow furrowed thoughtfully.
"Thank you. I'm not sure I follow," he admitted. "Why would people be disappointed that you didn't want to socialise?"
Iruka kicked off his sandals and motioned for Kakashi to do the same.
"I'm sorry about the mess," he said apologetically. "I wasn't expecting company."
The apartment was neat as a pin and precisely as obsessively cleaned and organised as Kakashi would expect from a professional shinobi, save the stack of ungraded exams and several pens on the desktop in the room that served as both the bedroom – bed perfectly made – and the main room of the apartment.
Iruka-sensei placed his stack of notebooks on the desk and bustled over to the kitchenette to start a pot of hot water.
"I'm sorry I don't have anywhere for you to sit," Iruka-sensei continued even more apologetically than before. "You're welcome to sit at the desk, if you'd like."
"Excuse my intrusion," Kakashi said, stepping out of his sandals and into the apartment.
He found a convenient wall of the kitchen to lean against.
"So? Do people get disappointed when you don't want to socialise?"
Iruka-sensei's grin was more of a grimace.
"Sometimes," he said, clearly thinking about some particular example.
"And did Mizuki tend to get angry with you?" Kakashi asked, taking a guess at who the "people" might be.
Iruka-sensei flinched.
Kakashi took another guess based on his somewhat tenuous knowledge of abusive relationships and said, "You can still be a good friend, even if you don't want to go out every time your friends do."
Iruka-sensei flinched again, his knuckles going white as he fisted his hands on the countertop. His face had gone from flushing to pale.
"I know," he said, but he didn't sound convinced.
"Is it that you don't want to go out and get a drink, or is it that you don't want me to be upset if, the next time I invite you out, you don't feel like going out?"
Iruka-sensei hesitated.
"That second thing, I guess," he said with a surprising amount of honesty.
Kakashi smiled over his mask.
"Most of my so-called socialisation is avoiding Gai when he wants to socialise," he admitted easily. "I would be a hypocrite if I was upset by your not wanting to socialise sometimes. Or even most of the time." He paused to let Iruka-sensei absorb the words. When he deemed the moment had stretched long enough, he said, "I know a good bar not far from here. They say the owner is ex-ANBU. It's laid back, lots of dark corners where we can drink without being ambushed by our peers. What do you say?"
Iruka-sensei looked up from the countertop, lower lip worried between his teeth.
"Thanks," he finally said quietly. "Yeah, okay."
◈❖◈
If the bar had a name, it had long since worn off the sign. It was filled predominantly with ANBU, ex-ANBU, and a smattering of jōnin. Iruka-sensei was the only chūnin, though Kakashi only knew that because he knew the clientele. Most of the people chose to forgo the standard uniforms, opting instead to wear mesh armor and an eclectic selection of fighting-ready clothes. Iruka-sensei would doubtless be unaware of his own rank in comparison to everyone else's.
Kakashi noticed Iruka-sensei looking around, eyes sharp, but neither said anything until they slid into a dark booth in the back.
After a moment, the bartender appeared, gazing at both of them with a level, even look that belied his experience as a former captain of ANBU.
"Evening, Tōshin," Kakashi said pleasantly. "I'll have your second-cheapest whiskey with one rock, please."
Iruka-sensei blinked.
"And for you, sensei?" Tōshin asked politely, his voice soft-spoken and smooth as melted butter. He had been in the covert ops for many years, specialising in honeypot missions, though he'd been one of Kakashi's earliest captains in ANBU back in the day. He still looked far younger than his years, soft around the edges, with gentle, dark eyes and mocha-brown hair he kept cut long enough to show off his natural waves. He was the ANBU's ANBU, easily dismissed as a civilian by all but the keenest eye unless he chose to announce his skill set, as he had just now. He did so to put the new shinobi at ease, Kakashi knew: a casual, unsaid, "I can keep you safe here, so you can relax."
Iruka-sensei jerked in surprise.
"How do you...?"
"Chalk on your jacket," Tōshin said with a small but charming smile. "And red pens in your pocket. And I've seen you at the Academy. So, what'll it be?"
Iruka-sensei flushed.
"Um? S... sake, I guess?"
Tōshin chuckled amicably.
"Do you like sweet or dry alcohols?"
"I'm not sure. Sweet, I guess," Iruka-sensei said embarrassedly.
"I've got a nice umeshu I think you'd like," he said. "I'll bring you a taster."
"Thank you," Iruka-sensei said, decidedly red.
Tōshin vanished, leaving the two of them in the greasy darkness.
"What do you usually order?" Kakashi asked, leaning on the table. Iruka-sensei drank enough to know that he became affectionate and sleepy when he drank, so....
Iruka-sensei mumbled something, looking away.
Kakashi quirked an eyebrow.
"I didn't catch that," he said.
"Mizuki always ordered for me," Iruka-sensei repeated, looking like he wanted to crawl under the table and die. "He liked beer, but...." He couldn't seem to suppress his expression of disgust.
"You don't like it," Kakashi guessed.
Iruka-sensei nodded.
Kakashi smiled.
"Well, if you don't like what Tōshin brings, he'll have some other recommendation. Or you can have a flight, which is a selection of tasters for you to try."
"Oh," Iruka-sensei said, looking surprised.
Kakashi smiled over his mask.
"I would offer to let you try my whiskey, but I won't inflict that kind of suffering on you," he joked. "I can pretty much guarantee you wouldn't like it. You'd probably find it tastes like paint thinner to you."
Iruka-sensei laughed hesitantly, though his amusement was real.
Kakashi felt warm despite the fact that his whiskey hadn't even arrived yet.