Wet Chapter 2
Title: Wet
Chapter: 2- Kakashi
Rating: PG
Pairings: Kakairu
Summary: When it rains, it pours. And sometimes it just plain sucks. Slightly cracky.
There were few things that Kakashi had serious problems with, most of them having to do with other ninjas throwing sharp objects or nasty jutsus at him. During his life, he’d learned that you had to be accepting of what happened, because even if you didn’t accept it, it could still mess up your life anyway, and you were usually left with some sort of icky denial complex. So when Kakashi was awoken that morning to the sound of very big chunks of scary looking hail leaving hairline fractures in his window, he muttered, “Screw it,” and pulled the covers back over his head. Wet and Kakashi did not get along.
Okay, so occasionally wet and Kakashi got along, during warm sunny days when he could, for instance, bribe an unsuspecting and adorable Chuunin school teacher into going for a swim, reveling in the fact that Iruka was almost always naively unaware that Kakashi only suggested it so that he could blatantly check out said school teacher’s swimsuit-clad ass. And even though Kakashi wasn’t an ego-maniac (far from it) he had to admit that when he allowed himself to become wet enough that the drops ran down his slender neck just so, he looked decidedly delicious. So wet and Kakashi weren’t always mortal enemies.
But rainstorms like this one obviously sucked, not to mention the fact that the wind whipped through the cracks in the window and made his bedroom sadly not-toasty. He muttered to himself, lazily pulling off a few hand seals, and with a puff of chakra smoke, his bed was now being warmed by a few very-furry and friendly nin-dogs. He sighed contentedly. Much better. He cuddled in for a few more hours of sleep.
The excited barking of the dogs woke him an inadequate hour later. He glared at them sleepily, his rumpled silver head peaking out from under the covers. He looked around to see what had set them off. Oh. A hailstone the size of a melon lay on the carpet amidst shards of glass, and the wind whipped through his window with renewed vengeance. Damn. Apparently, he wasn’t going to get his allotted 15 hours of sleep today.
After dismissing the dogs, dressing, throwing the piece of hail out the broken window onto an unsuspecting passerby, and patching his window, Kakashi decided that a warm breakfast was in order, even though it was technically- quick glance at the clock- after noon. Eating in silence, he decided that today would be an ideal day to tortu-…train his three students about the importance of functioning on missions even during weather conditions such as today’s. Of course, this meant that they’d spend a couple hours sparring in the low-laying training fields, which were surely turned into a swamp by now, as their sensei took shelter in a tree, occasionally chucking kunais in their direction. They needed to learn to be ready for anything, after all.
Of course, when he finally showed up at the bridge, they were already soaked, shivering and irritable. Even the ever-stoic Uchiha seemed ready to dismember him when he finally showed up, giving him a glare that would fill any average upper-level ninja with a sense of impending doom. Kakashi’s visible eye simply curved up into a crescent.
A few hours later, Kakashi trudged back into his apartment admitting to himself that maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to try to take shelter in that particular tree. It had seemed the perfect vantage point to throw his… learning aids… from, and it had been going quite well for the first hour or so, even though the wind had gotten seriously worse, and even Kakashi wasn’t safe and dry at this point, the water seeping underneath his vest.
Hell, he was lucky he’d felt the change in air pressure at all, what with the way he’d been so focused on the look on Sakura’s face as she’d plummeted into the mud after a vicious kick from the ticked-off Uchiha. He’d been quite happily contemplating the interesting shade her hair had taken on while soaking wet and covered in grime when the storm decided that his tree was the best tree to use to conduct a strong electrical current into the ground with. He’d escaped the lightning-bolt with only the tip of his hair singed slightly, but still, did it have to be his tree out of the thousands gathered around Konoha? No, he thought, the storm was being purposefully belligerent.
He threw his soaking vest onto a chair and decided that maybe it was best if he turned in early. He’d considered going to see Iruka-sensei later on, but the murderous look on the Chuunin’s face as Kakashi had spied him marching home after class had been… unpleasant to say the least. He was slightly comforted by the fact that he wasn’t the only one having a shitty day.
As he began to walk towards his bed, an ominous whistling noise made him halt in his tracks. His gray eye widened and he burst into his room to find that his patching job this morning had not been the best, as it had been ripped away from the re-broken window. His room was a mess of hail and wind-whipped furniture and belongings. With a mournful sob, he found his beloved Icha Icha soaked and ripped beyond recognition. One thought was running through his mind. Dear God, WHY!
That was it, he decided after having a proper burial for his lost porn in the backyard, this called for going to the bar and getting drunk off his ninja ass. He promptly walked to the nearest bar and ordered their strongest sake. He toasted lost comrades- especially ones of the paperback variety, spending the next few hours getting as inebriated as he possibly could as fast as he possibly could.
Late that night (morning? Ah, who the hell cared anymore…he mumbled to himself), he started a weary journey back to his apartment. An intoxicated Sharingan no Kakashi was not something that most people wanted to come in contact with, and as he stumbled along the almost deserted streets, most people gave him a much wider berth than was strictly necessary. At least the rain had let up some, he mused.
He was immediately snapped out of his warm and slightly fuzzy drunken stupor by a loud screech a couple of blocks away. He instantly gathered what faculties he had left at his disposal and rushed off in direction of the sound (okay, not rushed per se, but he was going as fast as he could in such a state. It wasn’t his fault the damn street lights, buildings and trees kept jumping in his way). He knew that voice.
He reached Iruka’s apartment and peered blearily into the window. It seemed that his ‘Ruru was trying to kill his ceiling. Okay, that was good. Seeing as plaster didn’t pose much of a threat, even on it’s bad days, Iruka wasn’t in any real danger.
He promptly passed out into the Chuunin’s bushes.
Chapter: 2- Kakashi
Rating: PG
Pairings: Kakairu
Summary: When it rains, it pours. And sometimes it just plain sucks. Slightly cracky.
There were few things that Kakashi had serious problems with, most of them having to do with other ninjas throwing sharp objects or nasty jutsus at him. During his life, he’d learned that you had to be accepting of what happened, because even if you didn’t accept it, it could still mess up your life anyway, and you were usually left with some sort of icky denial complex. So when Kakashi was awoken that morning to the sound of very big chunks of scary looking hail leaving hairline fractures in his window, he muttered, “Screw it,” and pulled the covers back over his head. Wet and Kakashi did not get along.
Okay, so occasionally wet and Kakashi got along, during warm sunny days when he could, for instance, bribe an unsuspecting and adorable Chuunin school teacher into going for a swim, reveling in the fact that Iruka was almost always naively unaware that Kakashi only suggested it so that he could blatantly check out said school teacher’s swimsuit-clad ass. And even though Kakashi wasn’t an ego-maniac (far from it) he had to admit that when he allowed himself to become wet enough that the drops ran down his slender neck just so, he looked decidedly delicious. So wet and Kakashi weren’t always mortal enemies.
But rainstorms like this one obviously sucked, not to mention the fact that the wind whipped through the cracks in the window and made his bedroom sadly not-toasty. He muttered to himself, lazily pulling off a few hand seals, and with a puff of chakra smoke, his bed was now being warmed by a few very-furry and friendly nin-dogs. He sighed contentedly. Much better. He cuddled in for a few more hours of sleep.
The excited barking of the dogs woke him an inadequate hour later. He glared at them sleepily, his rumpled silver head peaking out from under the covers. He looked around to see what had set them off. Oh. A hailstone the size of a melon lay on the carpet amidst shards of glass, and the wind whipped through his window with renewed vengeance. Damn. Apparently, he wasn’t going to get his allotted 15 hours of sleep today.
After dismissing the dogs, dressing, throwing the piece of hail out the broken window onto an unsuspecting passerby, and patching his window, Kakashi decided that a warm breakfast was in order, even though it was technically- quick glance at the clock- after noon. Eating in silence, he decided that today would be an ideal day to tortu-…train his three students about the importance of functioning on missions even during weather conditions such as today’s. Of course, this meant that they’d spend a couple hours sparring in the low-laying training fields, which were surely turned into a swamp by now, as their sensei took shelter in a tree, occasionally chucking kunais in their direction. They needed to learn to be ready for anything, after all.
Of course, when he finally showed up at the bridge, they were already soaked, shivering and irritable. Even the ever-stoic Uchiha seemed ready to dismember him when he finally showed up, giving him a glare that would fill any average upper-level ninja with a sense of impending doom. Kakashi’s visible eye simply curved up into a crescent.
A few hours later, Kakashi trudged back into his apartment admitting to himself that maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to try to take shelter in that particular tree. It had seemed the perfect vantage point to throw his… learning aids… from, and it had been going quite well for the first hour or so, even though the wind had gotten seriously worse, and even Kakashi wasn’t safe and dry at this point, the water seeping underneath his vest.
Hell, he was lucky he’d felt the change in air pressure at all, what with the way he’d been so focused on the look on Sakura’s face as she’d plummeted into the mud after a vicious kick from the ticked-off Uchiha. He’d been quite happily contemplating the interesting shade her hair had taken on while soaking wet and covered in grime when the storm decided that his tree was the best tree to use to conduct a strong electrical current into the ground with. He’d escaped the lightning-bolt with only the tip of his hair singed slightly, but still, did it have to be his tree out of the thousands gathered around Konoha? No, he thought, the storm was being purposefully belligerent.
He threw his soaking vest onto a chair and decided that maybe it was best if he turned in early. He’d considered going to see Iruka-sensei later on, but the murderous look on the Chuunin’s face as Kakashi had spied him marching home after class had been… unpleasant to say the least. He was slightly comforted by the fact that he wasn’t the only one having a shitty day.
As he began to walk towards his bed, an ominous whistling noise made him halt in his tracks. His gray eye widened and he burst into his room to find that his patching job this morning had not been the best, as it had been ripped away from the re-broken window. His room was a mess of hail and wind-whipped furniture and belongings. With a mournful sob, he found his beloved Icha Icha soaked and ripped beyond recognition. One thought was running through his mind. Dear God, WHY!
That was it, he decided after having a proper burial for his lost porn in the backyard, this called for going to the bar and getting drunk off his ninja ass. He promptly walked to the nearest bar and ordered their strongest sake. He toasted lost comrades- especially ones of the paperback variety, spending the next few hours getting as inebriated as he possibly could as fast as he possibly could.
Late that night (morning? Ah, who the hell cared anymore…he mumbled to himself), he started a weary journey back to his apartment. An intoxicated Sharingan no Kakashi was not something that most people wanted to come in contact with, and as he stumbled along the almost deserted streets, most people gave him a much wider berth than was strictly necessary. At least the rain had let up some, he mused.
He was immediately snapped out of his warm and slightly fuzzy drunken stupor by a loud screech a couple of blocks away. He instantly gathered what faculties he had left at his disposal and rushed off in direction of the sound (okay, not rushed per se, but he was going as fast as he could in such a state. It wasn’t his fault the damn street lights, buildings and trees kept jumping in his way). He knew that voice.
He reached Iruka’s apartment and peered blearily into the window. It seemed that his ‘Ruru was trying to kill his ceiling. Okay, that was good. Seeing as plaster didn’t pose much of a threat, even on it’s bad days, Iruka wasn’t in any real danger.
He promptly passed out into the Chuunin’s bushes.