For JBMcDragon, in honour of her birthday. (and about a week early, too.)
Some days are bad. Some days are worse. Then there was today, which pretty much argued for a new scale altogether.
The only thing stopping it from registering on the top ten list (Iruka was by nature a maker of lists. He was also by nature an ignorer of said lists once he'd made them, but he found the process reassuring.) was that, well... it wasn't as if the village had been attacked, or someone he knew was dead... it wasn't a depressing day, it was just a shitty day.
It started out as one of those can't-sleep-so-when-you-finally-do-you-oversleep, so then-you're-late-to-work-and-because-you're-rushed-you-forgot-everything-anyway mornings. It then morphed into an all-the-students-have-apparently-been-fed-glucose-as-part-of-a-rival-village's-plot-to-destroy-Konoha day. Half the class had detentions before lunchtime, and he'd have given the other half ones as well only he'd suddenly realized that since he'd have to sit through those detentions too, he would really only be punishing himself.
He'd gone to run his hands through his hair in sheer frustration around ten when his hair band had suddenly snapped, and of course a spare band was one of the things he'd forgotten in the mad rush out the door this morning. Which meant spending the rest of the day with his hair down, and it kept falling in his eyes despite his best and repeated efforts to keep it tucked behind his ears.
By noon, his stomach and his voice were competing over which could growl the loudest, since, of course, he'd had to skip breakfast as well as his usual morning cup of green tea, with its dosage of blessed, blessed caffeine. But since he'd missed a teacher meeting this morning, he had to spend lunchtime playing catch-up on files, records, and the afternoon lesson plan.
Around one, Iruka's class had been interrupted by loud noises from outside. Iruka had had to open the window and belt out that if Gai-sensei wanted to live to reach the Summer of his Youth, he'd shut the hell up while Iruka was trying to teach.
It was quieter after that.
Of course, the afternoon shuriken throwing practice the class had been looking forward to all week resulted in the loss of one good pair of Iruka's pants. He didn't have a spare set in the office at present, since he'd had to use his last emergency pair a week ago. The wound itself was a shallow slice that didn't need stitches but stung like hell when he moved. ...or when he stood still.
He'd never been so grateful to tell the little brats they were dismissed.
Iruka looked up from his angry and moderately painful trudge home. If the jounin hadn't said anything he'd have walked into him.
"Kakashi-sensei," Iruka acknowledged. "Can I do something for you?" he added, in a â??I'm-in-a-bad-mood-so-please-don't-give-me-a-reason-to-have-to-kill-you' tone of voice.
"Actually..." Kakashi's visible eye smiled. Which probably should have annoyed him... how dare anyone else be in a good mood after the day he'd had...but somehow, didn't. "You look like you're having a bad day. Care to go out for some food? My treat."
Iruka's stomach growled, but the rest of him felt unaccountably better.
And as they sat down to a dinner that was emphatically Not Ramen, Iruka decided that maybe today wasn't so bad.
Now if he could just maneuver Gai-sensei into taking over his detentions... it'd be a great day.
"You look good with your hair down, Iruka-sensei."
Scratch that. Today was perfect.
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