A Day for Fools

Title: A Day for Fools
Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete
Summary: Everyone has their limits; Iruka is no exception. And today of all days, Kakashi has crossed them. April Fool’s Day themed.


A/N: Written for the KakaIru LJ community. The prompt was “two hours trapped in a…”

There are many types of days. There are good days, bad days, sunny days, cloudy days, rainy days…you get the picture. And though it was still early, Umino Iruka had firmly decided that this day…was an absolutely shitty day.

He stood stonily in the infirmary, arms crossed over his chest as he scowled down at three of his students. Every year, he was more apprehensive about this day than any other day of the year. Why? Because it was Learn-To-Throw-A-Shuriken Day. And every year, he- a single, lone Chuunin- had to take a class of twenty overly rambunctious ninjas-in-training out to the training grounds and teach them to hit targets with sharp metal objects. And it involved a lot of preparation. He had to book the target practice range in advance, send out a thick stack of papers for parents to sign (permission slips, liability waivers, medical sheets, etc), and review weapons safety rules with the class.

It was to his everlasting torment that Learn-To-Throw-A-Shuriken Day always fell on April 1st; it was the only warm weather day he could ever manage to book the training grounds (overachieving ANBU and Jounins had a monopoly on the other spring and summer days). So every April, Iruka had to forcefully remind the class that though it was April Fool’s Day, pranks or shenanigans of any kind would Not Be Tolerated.

Needless to say, it was a vexing time of year. Last year especially had been bad with Naruto in the group; Iruka swore he’d gotten several white hairs as a result of the trauma.

This year was no different. Naruto might have graduated and left, but Iruka had Konohamaru to deal with this time around. Barely fifteen minutes into the lesson and the boy and his two partners in crime, Moegi and Udon, had decided they were going to perform a ‘super awesome shuriken technique’ they’d seen some Jounins use the other day. Fortunately, Iruka and the rest of the class had managed to duck in time; the three misfits hadn’t been so lucky.

They sat morosely in a row on the infirmary bed, wincing as the medic on duty applied a disinfectant to their numerous cuts. Their teacher stood menacingly over them, slightly hoarse from ten minutes of non-stop yelling and berating. With a final reminder about their week-long detention starting today, Iruka left the three cowering students to the medic and stalked back towards his classroom. He’d left the rest of his students alone (with firm orders to Sit And Be Quiet) while he’d been escorting the infuriating trio to the infirmary, after herding them all back from the training grounds. Hopefully, they’d listened and hadn’t made a mess in the-

Iruka stopped, faintly hearing the sound of a semi-familiar voice drift down the hall.

“…And Yumiko gasped, embarrassed to be seen by Yun wearing only a wet towel around her heaving, bountiful-”

The air in his lungs froze as Iruka realized two things: first, someone was reading inappropriate literature out loud. Second, that someone was reading it to his class. With a curse, he ran the remaining distance to his classroom and threw open the door.

Kakashi looked up from an orange-colored book, casually sprawled in Iruka’s wooden chair. “Oh, welcome back, sensei.” His eye crinkled in amusement, waving a hand in greeting. “I was walking by and saw an unattended class, so I thought I’d keep them occupied  with a story until-”

The rest of his sentence was lost as a visibly trembling, red-faced Iruka stalked over, drew a hand back, gathered enough chakra there to make his fingers glow, and punched Kakashi in the head, sending him flying. Seventeen children watched in awe as the legendary Sharingan Kakashi sailed out the open window to land with a dull thud in the grass below.

Iruka paused long enough to snap out crisp instructions to his frozen class. “Study chapter ten. Test Monday. Go home.” With abnormal meekness, the children quickly gathered their belongings and filed out the door, each vowing silently to listen to their sensei from now on. After all, he could K.O. the Copy Ninja.

Wrathfully, the normally docile Chuunin stuck his head out the window and looked down. A small voice in the back of his mind noted that such violence probably wasn’t the best way to deal with situations, but Iruka was completely fed up. Over the past year, he’d put up with a lot from Hatake Kakashi, but this was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

Sliding his legs over the windowsill, Iruka jumped down onto the grass below, scowling at the heap of Kakashi lying dazedly in the shrubbery. He was practically trembling with barely contained fury. How dare that perverted excuse for a shinobi corrupt my students! He’d silently and patiently borne through a lot from the Copy Ninja, but this one took the cake.

For a while now, it seemed to Iruka that Kakashi- one of Konoha’s most respected and renowned shinobi- had it out for him. Correction: Kakashi seemed to have made it his personal goal to drive Iruka completely bat-shit crazy. Almost every single day, the silver-haired man could be counted on to cause some sort of headache for him. Last month, he’d somehow managed to knock over every cup and box on the mission room table, sending all of Iruka’s pens, pencils, coffee, and completed reports tumbling onto the floor. The other day he’d come into the office completely covered in muck, which he dripped all over Iruka’s neatly stacked scrolls. Those offenses only started a very, very long list, which didn’t even include the appalling state of his mission reports. Whether smudged, incomplete, torn, or incorrectly done, Iruka somehow always got the dubious honor of receiving Kakashi’s reports. He’d tried changing his shifts to a different time, but it didn’t deter the insufferable man one bit.

So, it was with long-suffering, understandable rage that Iruka now hauled the source of his ire up by his collar, giving him a firm shake. “You. Explain yourself.”

To his credit, Kakashi appeared completely unfazed. He smoothly straightened to his feet, offering a casual smile. “Oh, hello Iruka-sensei. Nice day isn’t i-” His sentence was cut off as the hand gripping his collar jerked him back and forth again.

“Explain. Yourself.” Another shake. “Now.”

“Um. Happy April Fool’s Days?” He rubbed pointedly at his jaw, where the punch had landed. “I have to say, sensei, you have impressive chakra control for a mere Chuunin.”

Iruka was utterly nonplussed, outright gawking at the Jounin. The shock, anger, and disbelief all struggling to burst out of him seemed to have temporarily paralyzed the teacher. “Y-You…”

For a moment, Kakashi considered the man throttling him. Red face, wide glare, palpable killing intent. Now normally, Kakashi was not one to back down from a confrontation. However, instincts told him that in the face of an opponent such as a pissed off Iruka, there was only one reasonable solution.

Just as Iruka tightened his grip and opened his mouth to yell, there was a small pop and he found himself holding only wisps of white smoke. For a few moments, he stood there unmoving as disbelief flooded his mind. His class just had porn read to them and Kakashi had gotten away with it. And to top it all off, he felt significantly offended by the Jounin’s last comment.

At that point, a very large part of Iruka wanted to scream in frustration, throw a tantrum, and then find something to hit. The logical part of him though, told him to take a breath, pause a moment…then come up with a plan of retaliation. Nowadays, the village in general regarded Naruto as resident king of pranks. However, the older generation still recalled a not-too-distant past when a certain brown-haired child with a distinctive facial scar used to run amok and cause mayhem regularly. Iruka liked to think that he’d matured and grown past those days, but that did not mean he was a man to be trifled with.

And make no mistake, he was going to give Kakashi an April Fool’s Day prank he would never forget.


Crouching carefully on the roof tiles, Iruka peered into the apartment window. No motion that he could detect, and no chakra signatures nearby. Perfect. Silently, he made his way to the back window overlooking the alley. It was locked and he could detect a ward placed over it, but both were easily disabled. Withdrawing a small bottle from his side pocket, Iruka dribbled a few drops of oil over the sides of the window, waiting a minute before attempting to push it up. The frame slid up noiselessly, and the Chuunin slipped fluidly inside.

He found himself standing in a darkened bathroom. Ghostly white square tiles covered the floor, complemented by pale blue wallpaper and matching shower curtain. The door, also white, was slightly ajar, and Iruka approached it as quietly as he could.

Clever soul that he was, he’d earlier convinced Naruto and his teammates to drag their Jounin sensei to Ichiraku. He might have idly said that it was Kakashi’s birthday, and that he’d appreciate a surprise. Of course, they’d figure out the mistake eventually, but it was April Fool’s Day after all. Today of all days was one where you couldn’t trust what anyone said.

Iruka had seen Kakashi leave with his own two eyes, but it paid to be cautious. After all, who knew what traps or whatnot the Copy Ninja kept in his home.

He made it out of the bathroom and down the hall without incident, pausing momentarily at the bedroom door. He pressed the palm of his hand against the cool wood, sending the barest hints of chakra out through his fingertips. Nothing reacted, and he couldn’t sense anything foreign. Satisfied that there were no traps, he turned the knob and pushed it open.

It was a very plain, ordinary bedroom. A few drawers and shelves containing scrolls, various weapons, and equipment lined one wall. A nondescript closet took up another wall, and a picture window dominated the third. Several wood-framed photographs sat on the windowsill, overlooking the neatly made bed. They were the only ornamentation in the rather boring space.

Curiously, Iruka walked closer. One photo was of Team Seven, with Kakashi smiling over the faces of his three students. The other was similar in pose, but had very different people. He picked it up, intrigued. A much younger Kakashi stood stiffly for the shot, still wearing a mask and looking too serious for a child. His teammates, a black-haired boy and a brown-haired girl were more normal, smiling widely. And behind them, handsome and youthful, was the Fourth Hokage.

Smiling despite himself, Iruka set the picture frame down. He didn’t have time to waste. Quickly, he turned towards the plain closet near the doorway. Most bachelor apartments in Konoha had this exact same layout, and Kakashi’s was no different. Most ninjas Iruka knew used this closet to store their more personal items, and he was curious to see what the infamous Sharingan Kakashi hid away.

Sliding the thin wood panel back, Iruka smirked at its contents. Jackpot.

One side was mostly apparel: spare uniforms folded neatly or draped on wooden hangers, and black sandals were lined up on a low shelf. He was amused to see a small box containing dark-colored cloths that turned out to be Kakashi’s trademark mask. Impulsively, he picked one up. It was a stretchy, very light material, and slipped over his head with little effort. Turning to the mirror affixed to the back of the closet door, Iruka almost laughed out loud. He adjusted the mask until he had it almost just like Kakashi wore it: the pointed end pulled up over his nose and covering his entire jaw. He decided it might make a worthy Halloween costume for this year.

Chuckling quietly, Iruka turned his attention to the other side of the closet. A tall bookshelf covered the entire wall on this side. A few shelves contained reference books and manuals, but the majority of them were crammed with paperback novels in the same bright, loud orange color. He’d hit the Icha Icha mother lode. These books were the bane of his existence, and tonight, Iruka would repay Kakashi in full for the torment he’d caused him with these volumes.

Opening his vest pocket, the Chuunin took out a small stack of papers. They were all square in size and very thin, fitting perfectly in the palm of his hand. Painted onto each was the kanji for seal, used normally by shinobi to contain weapons or objects. In this case, Iruka had been a little more creative in its contents.

The ink used for these seals reacted to chakra, so Iruka carefully brushed a tiny bit of his own energy onto each sheet, before slipping them between random pages of a Icha Icha book. He did this until each and every book had at least one or two (he’d had a few left over, so a few of them might have had five or six) inside them. Iruka made sure to put each and every book back in its original place, for he’d noticed that Kakashi had them categorized numerically.

Task done, he sat back to admire his work. The books looked the same, but Iruka knew better. Inside each paper was sealed a unique chemical he’d invented himself. The chakra seal contained it for now, but he’d rigged it so when Kakashi opened a book, the seal would open and release the liquid. And this liquid, when it came in contact with air, would vaporize immediately. The resulting vapor was harmless but would spread rapidly, and had rather humorous results if it came in contact with a person’s hair or skin.

Looking at the mirror again, Iruka tried to imagine Kakashi with pink hair and sky-blue skin. He should definitely remember a camera for tomorrow and-

A low click made him freeze, and Iruka instantly slid the closet door close, leaving the tiniest bit open so he could see out. To his horror, he could hear the sound of the front door opening and closing, and footsteps echoed along the wooden floor as Kakashi returned home.

Shit! Shit shit shit shit. He concentrated on suppressing his chakra presence, nervously backing up as far as he could into the closet. All too soon, his back hit the wall. He was completely trapped. Maybe Kakashi would go out again or take a shower and he could try to sneak out.

The footsteps came closer and he held his breath as the bedroom door opened. He heard Kakashi sigh softly, unzipping his vest and dropping it onto the bed. There was a slight shuffling, followed by the soft creak of bed-springs. Crap, Iruka thought. Was he going to sleep? Cautiously, he scooted close to the closet door, taking a chance and pressing his face to the tiny slit for a look out.

Kakashi was sprawled out comfortably on the bed, Icha Icha Paradise open in front of him. He seemed to be reading it intently, turning the page every few minutes.

Slightly relieved, Iruka glanced at his watch. Eight-thirty. He’d been in Kakashi’s apartment for about fifteen minutes; hopefully it wouldn’t be for much longer. The Jounin supposedly ate ramen not too long ago; maybe he’d have to use the bathroom eventually? He prayed that Kakashi’s daily routine included a shower before going to bed.


By nine-thirty, Iruka had given up on praying. He was sweating away in a stuffy closet, too afraid of causing noise to take off his jacket or shirt. And Kakashi had been reading porn non-stop for the last hour. Really, it was getting to be too much. He was tempted to just come out and confess his crime and-

There was more creaking of bed-springs, and Iruka hurriedly peered out, hopes rising.

Yawning, the silver-haired man sat up and stretched. Closing his book, he placed it on the windowsill and got to his feet. He paused for a few moments, seemingly lost in thought. Shrugging, Kakashi pulled his shirt up over his head and off, tossing it onto the bed.

Iruka inwardly groaned as the older man started to do basic stretches. Clearly, his evening routine included the usual calisthenics routine taught to all Chuunins and Jounins. This could take anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours…

He looked again at Kakashi exercising away. Grudgingly, he had to admit the Jounin took pretty good care of his body. Pale, smooth skin rippled as muscles stretched taut over strong shoulders. There were scars visible on his back and arms, slightly lighter in color than the rest of his skin. Slim hips fit loosely into the standard-issue shinobi pants. Undoubtedly, he was good-looking and-

Wait. Why was he thinking that? Physically attractive he might be, Kakashi was still annoying, inappropriate, and a few other things that his somewhat distracted mind couldn’t quite think of.

Any longer in this closet and Iruka feared for his sanity.


Ten-thirty rolled around and Iruka was downright miserable. He’d been stuck in this cramped closet, surrounded by pornographic literature, for over two hours. More embarrassingly, he found himself half hard from watching the Copy Ninja move fluidly from position to position, small beads of sweat dotting his flesh. Seeing the silver-haired man shirtless was something he was pretty sure most of Konoha’s citizens hadn’t had the luck to see, and it was unexpectedly erotic. A part of him was appalled, but then again, it’d been a while since he’d got any-

No, stop it. And stop looking at him! He shook his head furiously, trying to dislodge that train of thought.

Kakashi sighed again, and Iruka stopped moving. Was he done? His eyes were getting tired from peering out so much, but he forced himself to look.

With one final stretch and a roll of the shoulders, Kakashi picked up his shirt and strode out the door. Eagerly, Iruka cocked an ear, straining for any bit of sound. And finally, finally he heard the bathroom door click close, followed by the blessed sound of water being turned on. Thank the gods. This nightmare was finally coming to an end. He waited for an agonizing three minutes, estimating that to be enough time for Kakashi to undress and get in. Sucking in a nervous breath, he pressed a trembling hand to the door, and slid it open timidly.

He was met with a still, empty room, thankfully Kakashi-less. Sighing gratefully, Iruka glanced from side to side, considering. Kakashi was in the bathroom, so the window there was not a viable escape route. And he didn’t feel like chancing a walk down the hall to the front door…which left the bedroom window.

Hastily, he climbed onto the bed and crouched before the windowsill. Fumbling, he unlatched the lock and quickly reversed the ward. Obstacles out of the way, Iruka pushed up the frame, wincing slightly at the small creak it emitted. Ducking his head down, the Chuunin slid his shoulders out into the cool evening air and towards free-

Without warning, a strong hand suddenly grabbed his ankle, forcibly pulling Iruka back inside. “Shit!” He instinctively kicked backwards, trying to wrest himself loose. But another hand simply grabbed his other foot, and pulled hard. With a soft thump, he found himself lying dazedly on his back on the bed, a shadow looming over him.

“Why, good evening, sensei.” Kakashi, still shirtless and now mask-less, leaned casually over him. He was smirking in much the same way a predator would to a freshly-caught prey.

Iruka was horribly aware of two things: first, he was still wearing one of Kakashi’s masks (worst idea, ever). And second…he was still turned on. “G-Good evening, Kakashi-sensei,” he stammered. Damn his luck to hell.

The Jounin slid a finger up to Iruka’s face, catching the edge of the mask with it and tugging it slowly down. “I’m guessing this is part of your April Fool’s Day prank?” His grin widened as the man beneath him blushed, sputtering. “Well, whatever it turns out to be, I think it’ll be worth the trouble tomorrow.” And before Iruka could protest further, he leaned in and kissed him. Softly at first, it wasn’t long before tongues slid wetly past teeth and lips and Iruka gave in.

And the next afternoon, Kakashi was as usual standing in the mission room queue, reading Icha Icha Paradise. Most people sniggered at his hair- a shocking electric pink- and his blue splotched skin. But as the Copy Ninja walked up to Iruka for his latest mission, and the younger man blushed in response, he figured it was worth it.

As he strode lazily out of the office, the sound of giggles and whispers following him, he unrolled his scroll. Someone had slipped a small scrap of paper with a note into it:


Sorry about the color vapor. Dinner tonight? I’ll make it up to you.

– Iruka

Yep, Kakashi thought. Definitely worth the trouble.


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