(no subject)
083. No Touching
Iruka stopped.
Iruka stared.
Just for the hell of it, Iruka stopped and stared, letting his mouth gape open for extra style.
"Hatake Kakashi," he hissed, glaring at the man sitting underneath the tree, "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"
Kakashi blinked innocently, looking up from the book he was holding in his right hand. His other arm was slung casually over a large blue peacock, which stared at Iruka with vacant round eyes.
"Why sensei," he replied, "I happen to be reading."
Iruka flushed the dark red of bloodlust, face twisted into a glower that made the grass Kakashi sat upon wither at the edges.
"There was a sign," he growled, "I know you saw it!"
"A sign?"
Kakashi hummed thoughtfully, then shook his head.
"Sorry, Iruka-sensei. I don't recall a sign."
"Damnit, I know you saw it! You're not supposed to touch the peacocks!"
Kakashi blinked.
Iruka seethed.
"You know as well as I do," he spat, "That Konoha doesn't have strong ties with this daimyo. This is his palace. We. Can't. Afford. Angering. Him!"
"But we're friends now, see?"
Kakashi turned his head and regarded the bird, which opened its beak and drooled.
Iruka took a deep breath.
Iruka exhaled.
Iruka fixed Kakashi with an expression usually saved for situations involving a chair, a length of rope, and assorted sharp objects.
"Kakashi," he warned, "I will do something we will both regret if you do not step away from that bird."
With a bored sigh, Kakashi removed his arm from the bird, which closed its beak, nipped at its feathers, and strode jerkily away, motley tail dragging in the grass behind it. The jounin loped over to the chunin and slung an arm over his shoulders, smiling cheerfully under his mask at the teacher's exasperated frown.
"Maa, Iruka-sensei?"
"Yes, Kakashi?
"I may not be able to touch any peacocks here... but I'm still going to touch yours."