Chapter 2
Day Zero - Evening
Dinner was more of an adventure than Kakashi ever wanted dinner to be. It turned out that using chopsticks was quite a bit more difficult than he had originally anticipated.
Fortunately, Iruka had a fork and spoon for Kakashi to use. Though something inside of Kakashi died a little bit as he ate ramen with a fork.
Still, consoled himself, at least Iruka hadn't had to actually feed him.
Iruka admitted that ramen may not have been the best choice, and that they would get something different for the next two evenings.
Iruka helped Kakashi find his way to the bathroom, asking if Kakashi wanted to take a bath.
"I normally shower and take a bath in the evenings," Iruka explained.
"Perhaps tomorrow," Kakashi said. He was, quite frankly, becoming tired with focusing so hard on his other senses and trying to make sense of what he was hearing. A shower sounded exhausting, at this point, and he wasn't such a barbarian that he would climb into a bath without showering. "Ah... if you don't mind, that is," he added quickly.
"Not at all," Iruka said, sounding surprised. "Why would I mind?"
Kakashi smiled over his mask. "Some people have very strong feelings about bathing on a daily basis," was all he said. "I find it dries my skin out if I bathe every day. So as long as my smell isn't offensive...."
There was a sound of shifting fabric. Maybe a shrug?
"You're not covered in mud, or anything, and you... ah, smell fine," Iruka said, tripping over the words just a little.
Kakashi pondered this small slipup. Although he felt his own cheeks go warm, he ignored the sensation. He knew just fine why he was blushing (ah, Iruka-sensei had noticed how he smelled? The thought turned his heart to butterflies!), but he wasn't certain what Iruka's slight hesitation meant. He was far more interested in figuring out that which he didn't know than that which he did.
No immediate answer came to mind except for simple embarrassment that Iruka should have to verbalize such a judgement.
Kakashi listened with only half an ear as Iruka talked, explaining that he was preparing a toothbrush for Kakashi before vanishing to put out a bed roll for himself. He pulled the door closed behind him.
Kakashi focused his chakra, feeling Iruka going to a shelf in his bedroom. With a small pop in the next room, Iruka unsealed something from a scroll. The bed roll, probably, Kakashi reflected.
Satisfied that Iruka wasn't watching him, Kakashi pulled down his mask and cautiously sniffed the toothbrush. He didn't think Iruka was the type to put anything strange on it while Kakashi was vulnerable, but Kakashi suddenly realized how many opportunities Iruka really had to mess with him, if not harm him.
All that hit his nose was mint. He tentatively put it in his mouth and found that it also tasted minty.
He finally brushed his teeth. Doing so without vision was an... odd experience, to say the least. Who knew there was so much sensation associated with brushing one's teeth?
He felt for the tap, spit, pulled his mask back up, and rinsed the toothbrush, then hesitated. He wasn't certain where to put the toothbrush.
"Are you alright in there?" Iruka called from outside the door.
"Hm. Not quite sure what to do about my toothbrush," Kakashi mused back.
"Oh! One second. I'll get you a mug."
Kakashi heard footsteps growing faint. There was some banging around in the kitchen, and then the footsteps returned.
"Are you decent? May I come in?"
"I'm as decent as I'll ever be," Kakashi replied dryly.
Iruka huffed a soft laugh. "Here. I've brought you a mug. I'm going to take your left hand, now."
He felt Iruka's hand, warm, around his own. Then a mug was pressed into his palm. He closed his fingers around the mug and dropped the toothbrush into it. It fell against something, and Kakashi ran his fingers over the other object.
A tube of toothpaste, it seemed.
"Thank you," Kakashi said, inclining his head. "Where would you like me to keep this?"
"Somewhere by the sink where you'll be able to feel for it," Iruka said, a smile in his voice. "Anywhere is fine."
Kakashi felt for the tap again. Using that as a guide, he found an empty space on the countertop to house the mug.
"I'm just going to turn the mug so you can feel the handle more easily, okay?" Iruka said conversationally. "So you don't confuse it with my cup."
Kakashi smiled over his mask, hiding his surprise. He hadn't realized Iruka had deliberately chosen a mug with a handle so that Kakashi could differentiate between the two cups on the countertop, but it was a kind gesture.
"I suppose it's fairly early to go to sleep, for you, isn't it?" Iruka asked sheepishly. "I tend to go to sleep somewhat early, since I usually wake up to teach pretty early."
"Mm," Kakashi said noncommittally. "I typically read in the evenings, but I suppose I don't have that option at the moment."
"I could... read to you?" Iruka offered timidly. "Not Icha Icha! But something else, maybe. If you'd like."
Kakashi smiled despite himself. "That actually sounds rather nice. What did you have in mind?"
"I... don't know," Iruka admitted. "What sort of thing would you be interested in?"
"Other than Icha Icha," Kakashi said thoughtfully, "anything, really. What do you tend to read?"
Iruka cleared his throat awkwardly. "Ah... you would probably find most of what I read boring. I read a lot of theoretical stuff about seals and barriers, or about teaching methods. That sort of thing."
"No fiction?" Kakashi demanded. "Really?"
"Ah... not much," Iruka mumbled. "I don't have anything against fiction, but I just rarely have the time to do purely recreational reading. I tend to read things that I both enjoy and find useful."
Kakashi sighed. "What a terrible life."
Iruka laughed weakly. "I have to keep sharp somehow, don't I?"
"Hn," Kakashi replied, unimpressed. "Have you ever read Icha Icha, Iruka-sensei?"
"I– ah, no," Iruka admitted quietly. "But I've heard about it."
"Won't you humor me and try reading just a little? I think you'll find that the first chapter is appropriate for all ages."
Iruka sighed. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"
"Probably," Kakashi acknowledged cheerfully as he pulled his much-loved copy of Icha Icha Paradise from his hip pouch. He held the book out in Iruka's general direction.
"I suppose we'll need to pick up some pyjamas and other things for you from your apartment tomorrow," Iruka said, taking the book and slipping it between fabric at around waist-height. A pocket, Kakashi surmised. "I can lend you some of mine for tonight. I think you should fit in my pyjamas, anyway, if that would be okay with you."
"That would be just fine, sensei," Kakashi said with a grateful smile. "Thank you."
"Here, let me take your hand," Iruka said quietly, a faint nervousness in his voice. "I think you have more control over your direction that way than when I hold your elbow, and there aren't any running children or street hazards here. If it sounds good to you, you could sit on the bed while I get you some pyjamas."
Kakashi put out a hand and found Iruka's own hand sliding into it.
Warm.
Even against the palm of Kakashi's glove, Iruka's hand was warm. Kakashi consciously tried to prevent his fingers from flexing. He succeeded. Mostly.
Iruka led him carefully out to the bedroom and directed him to sit on the edge of the bed.
Kakashi sat, feeling a little like a helpless child as Iruka walked over to the dresser.
He could hear Iruka's bare feet sticking, just barely, to the hardwood floor as he walked. It was a faint sound, one he might not have noticed before. He wasn't sure if Iruka was walking more loudly than usual, or if his own hearing was becoming more attuned to listening for small sounds since he had temporarily lost his sight.
Iruka pulled open a drawer, presumably of a dresser, and began rifling through fabric.
After a moment, he slid the drawer closed again and walked back to Kakashi.
"I'm laying the trousers down on the bed next to you, with the front facing upwards and the back facing toward the bed," Iruka said, and Kakashi heard cloth hitting the bedspread. "And the pyjama shirt on top of it, with the front of the shirt on top and the back against the trousers. And I'm putting a handkerchief next to them. I'm afraid I don't have any masks, so I hope a handkerchief will work?" he offered apologetically.
"That's perfect. Thank you, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi said with a smile over his mask.
"I'm going to go wash up," Iruka said, picking something cloth up off the bed again. His own pyjamas, Kakashi realized. "Call me if you need help. I won't come in until you let me know you're dressed, okay?"
"Thank you," Kakashi repeated with another smile.
When was the last time he had felt so... safe? Like he could trust, fully, the person whose presence he was in? Like he didn't have to try to guess at what would happen next?
And yet....
What did Iruka think about all of this? Was he angry? Amused? Bored? Annoyed? For someone so emotive, his voice now gave away little, other than faint nervousness.
Why was he nervous? Was he afraid that Kakashi might attack him? Or perhaps he was afraid that he might somehow offend Kakashi? He didn't seem to have any malevolent intentions toward Kakashi, at least.
But Iruka padded into the bathroom, closed the door with a click, and began running the water in what Kakashi guessed, based on the sound, was the shower. He heard the shifting of fabric in the next room and felt his face go dark as he realized Iruka must be undressing.
Kakashi forced himself to focus on the clothing beside him on the bed. He ran his fingers over the clothes and discovered that the fabric was surprisingly soft.
He shed his flak jacket and knelt on the ground, folding it into quarters and setting it at the foot of the bed. He didn't know where else to put it, and he wasn't about to go stumbling around in Iruka's home. He didn't want to be ungrateful or give Iruka cause to think that Kakashi might be nosy or spying on him.
He carefully unwound his weapons pouches and various leg wrappings, trying to fold the strips as neatly as he could and piling them on his jacket. He heard a senbon fall with a sharp clinking to the floor and begin rolling away, and he reached out and grabbed it before it could escape him.
He set it, and the rest of his weapons, on top of his jacket.
Shedding his shirt and trousers was easy enough, though he knew that when he folded them, the folds were probably untidy. Well, Iruka wouldn't judge him for that. Hopefully.
After a brief moment of hesitation, he took off his hitai-ate. The Sharingan, for once, wouldn't chew through his chakra, since Tsunade had blocked off the chakra pathways.
It, followed quickly by his gloves, went on top of the rest of his clothing.
He felt far more naked than he should have.
It was the lack of a mask, he told himself. And the fact that he was maskless in another person's apartment.
He stood and picked up the pyjama shirt, sliding it on over his head, grateful that Iruka had described its orientation when he had set it on the bed.
It was comfortably large and very soft.
The trousers hung loose around Kakashi's hips, even with the tightened drawstring.
Never had Kakashi been so aware that Iruka was just a little broader than Kakashi, both in hips and shoulders.
The running water in the bathroom switched off. There was a squeak of feet on tile followed by the distant shifting of fabric.
Kakashi fumbled for the handkerchief on the bed. He wasn't sure how Iruka knew that his masks were built into his shirts, but he was glad all the same.
He folded the handkerchief into a triangle and settled it over his nose. He tied it at the nape of his neck, ignoring the way the edge tightened uncomfortably across the bridge of his nose while remaining disconcertingly loose over his mouth and chin.
More water ran in the bathroom. Kakashi recognized the sound as coming from the sink, and sure enough, after a moment, the water turned off and he could hear Iruka brushing his teeth.
Kakashi flopped down on the bed and closed his eyes. Had his eye really been open that whole time? God, that must be discomfiting for Iruka, to have Kakashi's empty gaze wandering around the apartment. Kakashi made a mental note to keep his eyes closed until he was healed, for Iruka's sake.
After a few minutes, Iruka knocked on the bathroom door.
"Are you decent?" he called.
"No, but I'm dressed," Kakashi replied, sitting up and grinning at his own joke.
He could practically hear Iruka roll his eyes. "I'm coming in."
The bathroom door opened, and steam rolled over Kakashi like an embrace. Maybe he should have bathed, he thought. The steam was rather pleasant.
"You could have taken a bath, if you wanted," Kakashi said. "I don't mind."
Iruka made a soft sound, like a surprised exhale. "Thank you," he said after a moment. "It's alright. Would you like any tea or anything?"
"Yes, please," Kakashi said before he could stop himself. After the brief steam bath, something warm in his hands sounded irresistible.
"Would you like to drink tea here, or out in the living room?" Iruka asked.
He was so formal, so deferential. Kakashi wondered if Iruka had been a servant in a past life. It was a strange change from the opinionated, brash man Kakashi had come to associate with Iruka.
"Whichever you prefer," Kakashi said, inclining his head with his own deference once more.
"How about the living room?" Iruka suggested. "We can sit at the kotatsu."
Kakashi smiled and stood. "Sounds good," he said.
He almost tried to put his hands in pockets he didn't have, but then he realized that he both lacked pockets and needed Iruka's help to navigate out to the kotatsu.
There was a pause, as if Iruka wasn't sure what to say. "Is it alright if I take your hand?" he finally asked.
Kakashi stuck a hand out in Iruka's direction, and then Iruka's palm kissed his own.
Kakashi bit back a startled gasp and felt his breath catch, minisculely, in his chest. He had forgotten what it felt like, to hold someone's hand without his gloves in the way.
Even with gloves, he had been able to tell that Iruka's hand was warm, but this was a whole different dimension.
Kakashi's hand felt alive against Iruka's. He could feel the way the small tendons flexed as Iruka's fingers gently closed around his hand. He could feel callouses dragging just slightly beneath his own palm because of the residual dampness from Iruka's shower. He could feel warmth, enveloping and welcoming. And even though the only contact between them was at their hands, Kakashi suddenly felt like he was drowning in the living warmth.
And he wanted, so terribly, so overwhelmingly, to drown.
He should have stayed in the hospital, he thought desperately to himself as his heart jumped into his throat. He should have sucked it up and stayed in the hospital so he would never know what it was to drown in the living warmth of Iruka's hand.