This story has been a long time in coming. Written during my finals week--graduate school really will be the end of me--it's three parts stress-relief, two parts anger-management, and eight parts digestion of what I'm facing as an educator.

The title comes from the beautiful text Teachers as Cultural Workers: Letters to Those Who Dare Teach by Paulo Freire (ISBN 0-8133-4329-1). If you've ever wondered what it means to stand in front of a classroom and guide the minds of those you call students, this is a good book to read.

I'll call this NC-17, pairing is Kakashi/Iruka, and feedback is, as always, most certainly welcomed, appreciated, and dearly, dearly loved.

~MQ

Tuesday, 9:00 a.m.

Room thirty-eight B was a double, but the bed closest to the door was empty. Kakashi made an effort to be audible as he entered the room, allowing the slap of his sandals, the brush of his elbow against the privacy curtain hanging between the empty bed and the other side of the room. And, just as he'd intended, his lover was awake and smiling when he rounded the corner, the man propped up on pillows and pale, the scar across his nose more defined than usual against his sallow skin.

"Hello, Hatake-san," he said. "How nice of you to visit."

Kakashi didn't pull down his mask when he kissed him, as punishment for the use of his formal name. Iruka laughed and apologized, called him "'Take" and got a much better kiss as a reward, his fingers tangled in Kakashi's mask.

"They still won't let me out," he said, a little breathless when his lover pulled back, mask in place as quickly as Iruka had tugged it down. "Won't let me see my back, either. The doctor said it would 'do nothing positive to promote the healing of the mind nor the body.'" He sighed and looked up at his lover with pleading brown eyes. "I'm bored, here."

The bright orange book offered to him, at that statement, was refused, as expected, but he was, at least, laughing as Kakashi tucked the book back into the pouch on his hip.

"Thank you, 'Take," said Iruka, still chuckling. "I'll just work on my lesson plans some more. Already finished the ones for the substitute, he should have enough to keep them busy the rest of the week, and I've got half the year planned, as well. Should be a good year for the children, I never plan this much for their classes."

Kakashi smiled. "I never plan," he said.

And Iruka laughed again.

<@ <@ <@

Tuesday, 1:25 p.m.

People generally didn't ask questions, he'd noticed. Not of him, anyway.

Sandaime didn't ask him to elaborate on the details behind his request for no new missions, just nodded and told him to keep his eye open for trouble around the village. The doctors in the hospital didn't ask him why he visited every day, right on time, where he'd never been punctual for his own appointments, before. They merely nodded and went on their way, probably wondered or whispered later, and Kakashi found that he didn't really care.

And the substitute, standing in front of Iruka's class, looking utterly homicidal amidst the chaos and noise of the children in the room, didn't ask why an elite jounin was in the classroom, exposed eye wide at the display of disorder before him.

He simply handed Kakashi the scroll on which Iruka had neatly written out the day's lesson, growled something Kakashi sincerely hoped Iruka would never know was uttered in the sanctuary of the classroom, and left, slamming the sliding door behind him.

The class stared at him, in total silence, for about seven seconds. Then there was commotion and talking and questions and students settling in their chairs with expectant expressions on their little faces, eyes focused intently on Kakashi.

"You're the famous Copy Ninja, aren't you?" said a chubby boy at the back of the room, whom Kakashi recognized as Sandaime's grandson, his voice rising above everyone else's loudly enough to quiet questions about gravity and its relationship to Kakashi's hairstyle. "Are you gonna teach us some cool secret jutsu?"

Chaos reigned for thirteen seconds after that, stilling when Kakashi raised his hand.

"Ah, no," he said. "Rather, I was just bringing word on Iruka-sensei's condition." He looked around the room at the eyes focused on him, all worried and utterly attentive, and blinked. "He's recovering well, should return Monday."

A hand shot up, off to his right. Kakashi looked at it. "Yes?" he said.

"They said he got hurt on accident, but is that true, or did he get hurt in the course of a mission?"

"Stupid," said a girl from the back row. "Iruka-sensei doesn’t take missions when school's in session. He says teaching is an A-ranked mission on its own."

The boy whose hand had been--and still was, as though he wasn't aware it was attached to him--raised, turned to face the girl, scowling. "So? Maybe it was an emergency. He could've gone to help out or something."

"No he couldn't," said the girl, rising and glaring defiantly. "He's not a very good ninja, or he wouldn't be teaching here."

"Shut up!" said a boy from the third row, standing, his hands on his hips. "Iruka-sensei is a great ninja, that's why they let him teach. My dad said so!"

Kakashi opened his mouth to ask who the boy's father was, but the mask hid the motion so no-one noticed and the argument continued.

"Your dad's an idiot with an oral fixation," said a girl in the front row, not bothering to turn around. "My mom said that toothpick he's always sucking on is a sign that he's a pervert, and someday he's going to fall and stab himself in the throat on it."

"You take that back!" said the boy, wheeling around and glaring at the girl.

"Make me," she said, standing and taking a stance that Kakashi wasn't entirely sure was just for show.

And, where the thought of watching Genma's son beat up a girl in his father's defense had appeal, Kakashi doubted his lover would quite approve of him permitting such things to happen in the precious haven of the classroom. Shouting, he was fairly certain, would do less than no good with children, so with a sigh, he bit his thumb and made a series of seals, summoning Pakkun on Iruka's desk.

Silence resumed, fourteen pairs of wide eyes focusing on the dog sitting on Iruka's painfully well-organized papers.

The pug surveyed the room with a lazy gaze. "Good grief, you've got to be kidding me," he said. "Do tell me I'm allowed to bite them?"

"No, Pakkun," said Kakashi, pleased to note that the children who had been fighting were settling at their desks, attentive to the new teacher's new assistant, wide-eyed at the sight of their sensei conversing with a dog as though they'd never seen such a thing before.

Which, Kakashi mused, they probably hadn't, not in a case where the dog talked back, at any rate.

"Ah, this is Pakkun," he said, to fill the silence. "I thought perhaps you'd all like to accompany him to the hospital to visit your sensei."

Chaos reigned that time for closer to seventy-two seconds, Pakkun's eyes wide as he surveyed the flailing, chattering, stumbling, wrestling mass of children packing their bags and moving to form a cloud around Kakashi and the desk.

"I’m to do what?" said Pakkun.

"Can't very well tell them that you're classroom management then, can I?" said Kakashi.

Pakkun looked up dubiously at his Summoner, who chuckled softly.

"Very well then," said Kakashi, to the children. "Form a line and follow Pakkun. He'll lead you to the hospital."

Pakkun murmured something unpleasant and leapt down from the desk, pushing the classroom door open with his paw while the children lined up behind him, then padded out of the room and down the hall, Kakashi at the back of the line, overseeing the procession as they made their way out of the school and into the gusting wind of the overcast afternoon.

<@ <@ <@

Tuesday, 2:01 p.m.

Iruka wasn't really surprised when the door to his hospital room opened, revealing a lazy-looking pug dressed as a ninja. On nights when Kakashi was discovered, sneaking into the hospital after visiting hours, he'd often send his Summon to pass the night with Iruka, the little dog cuddling at the foot of his hospital bed until morning, when Kakashi would stop by after visiting the Memorial.

What surprised him was the procession of children following the dog, lining up quietly beside his bed, one of the boys picking Pakkun up and gently setting him at the foot of the bed to save him from the shuffling feet of his classmates.

"We wanted to see how you were doing," said Konohamaru, hands clasped politely in front of him, "so Sensei brought us to visit you."

Iruka blinked at him, then down the bed at Pakkun. The dog snorted.

"Don't even think it," he said, pointing towards the door with one paw. "He's talking about that sensei."

Kakashi waved, leaning lazily against the doorjamb. "Yo."

"Hi," said Iruka. He looked around the room at his students, at his lover doing his best to look bored with the situation, and smiled. "Thank you so much for coming to see me, all of you," he said. "I've missed working with you. Have you been studying hard?"

Shy answers turned into contradictions, contradictions into stories of who'd behaved the worst, and soon chaos was reigning, the children all trying to outdo each other, telling their sensei everything that had transpired in his absence. Only when a nurse came in and insisted that the visitors quiet down while she checked her patient's bandages did the children stop talking, watching wide-eyed with necks craned, wanting to see their teacher's injuries.

"Sensei?" said the little girl whose mother believed--not entirely falsely, Kakashi thought to himself--that Genma was a pervert. "What happened?"

Iruka winced as he settled back against the hard, standard-issue hospital pillow, tilting his head to the side to allow the nurse to re-tie his hospital gown. "I happened to witness a man doing a bad thing," he said. "A Konoha ninja was trying to stop him, so I helped. The man got angry and hurt me."

"Did he get away?" said Genma's son.

"No," said Iruka. "We caught him and put him in prison. He'll be punished for what he did."

After that, his students' admiration was almost tangible.

<@ <@ <@

Thursday, 9:03 p.m.

Freedom was a beautiful thing, as was home, Iruka decided, resting happily on the soft cotton sheets of his own bed, naked and hmm'ing softly as Kakashi gently brushed the knots out of his hair. Really, he could do it on his own, but his lover's hands were so gentle, and the potential to strain his stitches, were he to do it himself, made such a convenient excuse ...

" ... that you can't have your own."

He blinked, pulled from his dazed pleasure. "Sorry, 'Take, what was that?"

Kakashi pressed a soft kiss to the bandages wound around Iruka's shoulder. "I said, you're good with children. It's a pity that you can't have your own."

"Ah."

They sat in silence, Iruka's eyes slipping closed, Kakashi's breathing quiet without his mask in the way. He gave his lover's hair a few more strokes with the brush, then slid off the bed and set the brush on the bureau, his large, bony feet padding softly across the age-worn wooden floor as he returned to the bed, waiting for Iruka to curl comfortably around the pillows before tucking him in.

"I suppose, of course, that you may have children, someday," he said, folding the heaviest comforter at the foot of the bed, then stripping out of his tunic and trousers. The bed creaking under his weight as he slipped under the sheet and blanket, spooning around his lover. "You'd be a good father."

He felt, rather than heard, movement of his lover's body as he settled under the covers, the buzz of the Iruka's chakra interacting with his own as the younger man shifted to lie closer, Kakashi's chest nearly touching his.

"Hey." A soft word, a puff of air breathed over Kakashi's lips, dark eyes watching him in the pale light from the nightlight the younger man couldn't sleep without.

"Yo." A quiet answer, a sound more familiar and dear to Iruka than he would openly admit.

"They adore you, you know."

"Hmm?"

"My students. They adore you, always want to hear stories about the famous Copy-Nin." Iruka shifted, reached up a little stiffly to touch the jawline no-one in Konoha but himself and his lover had, to his knowledge, seen. "It was a real treat for them to get to see you, Tuesday."

"Ah, is that so?" said Kakashi, his usual lazy smile far less affective with his mask gone and his mismatched eyes exposed. "Funny, that. They seemed excited to be visiting you."

Iruka drew him down for a gentle kiss. "Nah, they just liked getting out of the classroom." He rested his forehead against his lover's, closed his eyes. "You said it was a pity, 'Take, that I don't have my own children, but I do have my own children. And I'm glad that when they grow up and leave my protection, some of them pass into your hands." He slid his palm up Kakashi's arm, squeezed the thick muscle of the man's bicep. "I wouldn't want Naruto or Sasuke learning from anyone else."

For all his usual humor, his usual lazy attitude, no jokes rose to Kakashi's mind. He took Iruka's lips in a long, gentle kiss, then lay down beside him and drew the man close.

"I'm glad you approve, Sensei," he said.

<@ <@ <@

Friday, 3:17 a.m.

Kakashi had thought that perhaps, like the dreams he'd suffered of Obito, the nightmares of Iruka's attack would fade once the younger man was in his arms at night, once again.

He'd thought wrong.

Instinct alone prevented him from crying out in terror as he woke from images of his lover's beautiful body, limp and bleeding as he carried the man across the rooftops of the village at a dead run, cold wind hissing around them, Naruto's cries of surprise and terror echoing loudly in his head as the distance between the boy and his sensei stretched. Stiff and disoriented, he opened his eyes and looked around, took in the old, dented wood of the windowsill, the smooth ceiling with the single light fixture hanging in the middle, always kept clean and free of cobwebs. He turned and reached out, took in the empty mattress, the dip where his lover had lain.

"Relax, I'm in here," came a voice from the bathroom. "Could use your help, actually, if you're awake."

Relief, like poison, spread through him as he slid out of bed and padded across the bedroom to the bathroom, blinking in the bright light as he pushed the door open. Iruka was standing at the sink with a wad of cotton in his hand, dabbing at the scar just under his collarbone where his stitches had been, cleaning blood from his smooth tan skin.

"I think I tore a little in my sleep," he said. "Help me bandage it?"

Kakashi nodded and took over cleaning and smearing ointment over the rough skin, washing his hands before turning his lover to check the deep stab wound just to the side of the man's spine, checking for signs of blood or tearing before wrapping gauze around Iruka's strong chest. It was nice, the calm of caring for his lover, the feel of the man's heartbeat under his palm, warm skin under his fingertips.

"You had a nightmare."

Not a question.

"Ah. Happens, sometimes."

Not a lie.

Fingertips brushed his cheek, lips pressed to his. "Thank you for taking care of me, 'Take."

The lazy smile was so easy. "Ah, it's nothing."

Iruka kissed him again. "You'll have to summon Pakkun sometime so that I can thank him, too."

Kakashi chuckled, the smile spreading across his lips feeling far more real than its predecessor. "In the morning, perhaps," he said.

"Yeah," said Iruka, yawning. "In the morning." He let Kakashi lead him to bed, kissed the man as they lay down on the soft mattress, arms and legs negotiating between the cool sheets as they kissed and cuddled, his head pillowed on Kakashi's strong shoulder, the older man's calloused fingers idly tracing the edge of the bandages, tickling Iruka's sensitive skin.

"'Night, 'Take."

"Goodnight, 'Ruka."

It was hours before either slept.

<@ <@ <@

Tuesday, 8:33 p.m.

"No, no, no, no, no!"

Kakashi looked over the top of his book at his lover, watched Iruka pound the low table at which they were seated. Papers were neatly stacked before the younger man, a red pen lying beside the single page in front of him, and Iruka was rubbing his eyes with both hands, groaning.

"I don't know why I bother to teach," he growled. "It's not like they're learning anything. They don't care, they don't pay attention, and they certainly aren't thinking, if this is the sort of stuff they think I'll accept as an answer."

Kakashi marked his page and set his book on the table, then rose and padded over to his lover, settling beside the man. He read over the paper, took in the name scrawled messily at the top, the answers to each of the questions written in choppy sentences, as though the student hadn't cared to spend more than a few minutes' time on his assignment. From the look of the red pen covering the page, he got the impression that his lover's corrections had taken more time, effort, and thought than the student had devoted to the homework in the first place.

Iruka scribbled DO OVER at the top of the page, then turned it face-down onto the stack to his right, and grabbed another page. This one was a touch better--the handwriting was, at least, legible, and the mistakes were more honest misunderstanding of the material than the result of laziness--but it the page was still bleeding with red ink by the time Iruka had finished with it, and Iruka ...

"You know, if she'd just consulted the chapter on illusionary technique, she could have gotten full marks for this," he said, turning that page face-down onto the stack of finished papers. "Wouldn't have killed her to look up the answers, maybe learn something, heaven forbid."

Kakashi hmm'd thoughtfully. "They lack discipline," he said, watching his lover correct yet another homework paper. "I see the same traits in Sakura, Sasuke, and Naruto."

Iruka shot him a particularly nasty glare. "If you're suggesting," he growled, "that it's somehow my fault that the students who graduate under me lack discipline, I'll have you know that--"

Kissing Iruka was dangerous when he was angry, but it worked to quiet him, and that was worth it to Kakashi, even as he parried the punch aimed at his face.

"That wasn't what I meant," he said, lazily watching his lover huff and return to grading, red pen gripped tightly in his hand. "Gai doesn't seem to have such troubles with his students, but I suppose they are exceptions."

"They all have parents," said Iruka, not looking up. "Neji's got his entire clan putting pressure on him to succeed, Ten-ten's got her family to impress and the stigma of her gender to overcome. And Lee's got Gai-sensei as his role model and his personal goals to achieve, so it's not surprising that he works as hard as he does." He wrote DO OVER at the top of the page he'd been grading and set it face-down on the finished stack. "I'm just going to have to call parent-teacher conferences early this year, talk to some of these parents."

Kakashi cocked his head. "Oh? And will that work?"

Iruka paused and looked at him. "Would've worked on me," he said, softly. "My dad never would have let me get away with half the shit I pulled while I was in school. I'm sure my teachers got just as frustrated as I do, now." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "Maybe that's it, maybe this is just bad karma for how I was as a kid."

His lover laughed. "Come, take a break," he said.

With a sigh, Iruka capped his red pen and set it over the paper he'd begun grading (another DO OVER, Kakashi suspected, from the look of it), then allowed Kakashi to help him to his feet and lead him into the bedroom, stripping out of his turtleneck and trousers when the older man began lazily undressing. He folded and put away his clothing, tossed his briefs into the hamper by the door, then tugged the tie out of his hair and began brushing it, wincing when the rough motions of his brush caught and yanked a knot, sending pain blossoming across his scalp.

"Iruka."

Kakashi's voice was still soft, the man's expression lazy as ever, but his tone begged no argument.

"Let me do it."

Iruka surrendered the brush to his lover's hand, arms crossed over his chest as Kakashi gently brushed out the uncooperative brown mass of his hair. Only when he was relaxed and practically purring, arms having fallen limp at his sides, did Kakashi set the brush on the bureau and lead his lover into the bathing room, pulling out one stool only and settling on it, patting his lap as he reached for the showerhead.

"Sit down," he said.

"In your lap?"

"I know they taught your critical thinking at the Academy, Iruka-kun," said Kakashi. "Yes, in my lap, that's the only available seat then, isn't it?"

Iruka frowned. "Don't bring up school right now, 'Take," he said. "That's the last thing I want to be thinking about."

Kakashi guided him into his lap, then turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was hot enough to satisfy him, cool enough to prevent burning his lover, Iruka's muscular legs spread wide, thighs cradling his sides.

"I didn't make you think about it," he said, wetting Iruka's tan skin, gently working water into the man's thick hair. "You were thinking about it when you sat down."

"Know-it-all jounin," said Iruka, but he didn't argue, instead slumping forward, forehead resting against Kakashi's shoulder as the man set down the showerhead and began working shampoo into his hair.

"If I knew it all," said Kakashi, lathering his lover's hair until it was nearly as white as his own, "I'd have less trouble with my genin."

Iruka sighed and sat back, eyes closed as Kakashi rinsed his hair. "If you knew any less," he said, "you wouldn't stand a chance against them."

Kakashi laughed and wet his own hair, washing it while Iruka argued with the mess of faintly-curling hair sticking to his face and shoulders, combing conditioner through it until he was satisfied that every strand was coated. Then he waited for Kakashi to finish rinsing (he'd often envied the older man's shorter hair, envied Kakashi's shorter showers and shorter time getting ready in the mornings) before reaching for the showerhead, conditioner dripping down his chest.

His lover smacked him, holding the showerhead out at arm's length. "Don't be hasty," he said.

Iruka sighed and closed his eyes, holding his breath as conditioner-slick water rushed over his face and down his back, Kakashi's strong, calloused fingers working his scalp with just enough pressure to feel good, relaxing Iruka far more than refusing to think about his students ever could. He hmm'd happily, then pulled away, reaching for the bar of soap and a washcloth, taking Kakashi's mouth in a gentle kiss as he leant close, reaching around to wash Kakashi's back.

"Mind your wounds," said Kakashi softly. "Don't rip them."

"I won't," said Iruka, but all the same he shifted, reaching around blindly to wash one side of his lover's back, then pulled away from the kiss to shift again, washing the other side of Kakashi's back without stretching too much, feeling Kakashi's eyes on the healing wounds that dotted his chest, arms, and legs.

When he'd finished, he handed the cloth and the soap to his lover, then held still, eyes closed as Kakashi bathed him, grumbling softly when the man nudged him until he turned around.

"It's healing well," Kakashi commented, gently washing the angry scar between Iruka's spine and right shoulder blade.

"I had a good nursemaid," said Iruka.

They rinsed in silence, Kakashi steadying his lover in his lap when the man stretched to shut off the water, the sudden quiet of the bathing room almost calming amidst the steam and wet skin and lips and tongue as Iruka straightened and kissed him, long and deep.

"Thank you, 'Take," he said, softly. "I needed that."

"Hn," said Kakashi, kissing him again.

<@ <@ <@

Wednesday, 12:34 a.m.

It was three hours before Iruka's grading was finished, three long hours of red ink and frustration and DO OVER written atop at least half of the homework papers. Kakashi quietly listened to his lover vent when the man had had enough, fixed tea when ranting made Iruka's voice hoarse, and carefully entered grades into the gradebook, his mismatched eyes flitting time-to-time up from the page to Iruka's furrowed brow, the younger man's scar creased angrily over his nose.

In the darkness of the bedroom, he waited for Iruka to flop down onto the squeaky mattress before crawling over the man, taking his mouth in a hard, deep kiss.

"Mmph! Kkshi awt au gaah?"

Kakashi pulled away and rocked back, slipping his fingers under the waistband of the flannel pants his lover hadn't bothered to shed before falling into bed. "What was that, Sensei?"

"I said, what are you--oh ... oh 'Take, that's good ..."

Kakashi smiled and gave the base of his lover's cock another gentle squeeze, then slid his hand up the length, leaning close to kiss Iruka as he teased the man to hardness, all tongue and hot breath and soft moans, his own erection straining the front of his pants as Iruka wiggled to free himself from his clothing.

It took longer that night than usual for his lover to come, the stress of the day and his job making Iruka's orgasm elusive, but Kakashi never once became frustrated, kissing away breathless offers to return the pleasure he gave his lover, ignoring whispered apologies, words of let me make you come, 'Take, I don't think I'm going to.

When he bit down on the soft flesh just beneath Iruka's ear, licking under the lobe, he felt a swell of energy, felt his lover stiffen and buck. With a low growl, he pulled away and covered the head of his lover's penis with his mouth, sealed his lips around the hard shaft only seconds before Iruka started to come, sucking hard as semen spurted down his throat, bitter and salty and warm.

"Oh, oh 'Take," Iruka panted. "Good, so good ..." He lay perfectly still through the pleasure, relaxing back into the soft sheets only once it had passed and Kakashi had pulled away, licking his lips. With a sated sigh, he reached for his lover, fingers brushing the sticky fabric of Kakashi's underwear where the man's erection had been straining.

"You're so good to me, 'Take. Let me make you feel good, too?"

But Kakashi merely shook his head, shucking his underwear down his legs and stretching out beside his lover, his hand wrapped around his own erection as he took Iruka's mouth in a deep, bitter kiss. Orgasm shook through him only moments later, caught neatly in a tissue in his lover's hand, the younger man's fingertips brushing ticklishly over the head of Kakashi's cock as the man came. He pulled away and wiped up the few dribbles that escaped to land on Iruka's soft, sparsely-haired thigh, then lay down, once again, breathing hard as Iruka kissed him, soft lips feathering across his nose and cheeks and forehead.

"I love you, Kakashi."

Kakashi smiled. "Love you too, 'Ruka."

<@ <@ <@

Wednesday, 9:07 a.m.

The children were uncharacteristically silent when Iruka returned from his visit to the classroom down the hall, grumbling threats of what he'd do when he caught the prankster who'd forged the other sensei's handwriting into the note requesting his presence in the other class. It was obviously some joke, a joke that hadn't yet ended, he was fairly certain, when outside the door to his normally rambunctious class he could hear nothing inside the room, picking up the faint signatures of chakra coming from--

That's awfully strong chakra for a child, he thought, hand frozen over the doorlatch. Surely Naruto's not involved in this ...

Indeed, Naruto was not involved. Entirely. Present, yes, but quiet, far quieter than he'd ever been as a participant in Iruka's class. Flanked to either side of him were Sakura and Sasuke, and standing behind the three of them was--

"Kakashi-sensei?"

Kakashi offered him a lazy grin that reminded Iruka strongly of the fat, good-natured cat the Sandaime always fed outside the main office in the mornings.

"Yo."

Iruka slid the door closed and padded into the classroom, trying to act as though he knew what was going on. He stopped beside his lover and crossed his arms over his chest, surveying the room with a stern expression that the students' silence really didn't call for. Kakashi grinned at him.

"Saa, then. Sasuke, Sakura, Naruto. Continue."

Naruto sighed and lifted his hand, studying one of the DO OVER homework papers over which Iruka had despaired, the night before. "Number two: please explain the principle of henge and its importance." He cocked his head at the students seated before him. "Man, you guys get the easy homework. We actually have to do this stuff, now, and sometimes we do it just to stay alive."

"Baka," growled Sasuke, "stay on topic."

"Yeah, yeah," said Naruto. He handed the paper to Sakura and stepped forward. "Okay, um ... you. Girl with the glasses. Tell me why it's important that I can do this."

Then he promptly made the seal for henge and turned into a deck of playing cards. The class gasped appreciatively.

"Well?" said Naruto's voice, the boy's face appearing at the window-sill.

"Um, you can take an enemy's attack that way," said the girl. "Physical and otherwise. So long as you can transform into something else before the attack makes contact, you'll both block the attack and be able to escape, then attack from an unexpected angle."

Naruto nodded and skulked back to the front of the room. "Works for me. Any complaints?"

Silence answered him. Sakura cleared her throat.

"My turn, then. Number three: please identify the seal used in henge and the process used to mold chakra in order to successfully complete this technique." She passed the paper back to Naruto, who passed it to Sasuke. "Okay, um ... third row, boy in the blue shirt."

Genma's son groaned. "Aw, man, this one's hard."

Iruka opened his mouth to yell at him, but Sakura beat him to it.

"Of course it is," she said, sweet and patient where Naruto had sounded rude and annoyed. "The difficult techniques are most important, though, because those are the ones that will come in handy when you need to save your client, your teammates, or yourself."

Genma's son rolled his eyes, but he answered the question. Completely. And correctly.

Iruka did his best not to gape.

<@ <@ <@

Wednesday, 2:07 p.m.

By the time class ended, the entire worksheet had been discussed, and Iruka had carried out his lesson plans under the watchful eye of his lover and the man's genin team, the students paying attention and behaving far better in front of their guests than they'd ever behaved for their sensei before. Once the bell had rung, signaling the end of class, Kakashi stepped forward and gave his team their assignment for afternoon training, then shoo'd them out, pleasantly murmuring threats in the event of slacking as the three slunk from the room.

The entire class followed them, chattering questions at their sempai the whole way.

"Well," said Iruka, stacking his papers and slipping them into his briefcase, "that was interesting."

His lover turned and gave him a lazy smile. "Your students seem to know their material, Sensei," he said.

Iruka didn't answer, brushing past his lover and switching off the lights. They walked in silence from the Academy to Iruka's apartment cluster, filed silently up the stairs to the man's apartment, then into the dark warmth of Iruka's home, toeing off their shoes in the entryway before Iruka bothered to find the light and switch it on.

His hands were on his hips so quickly that Kakashi had to wonder, just a bit, if he'd used something other than his hands to turn on the lights.

"Okay, Kakashi, I want you to explain to me why you felt it necessary to take over my class today," said Iruka, his voice deadly calm. "I'm sure you have a good explanation, and I'm not going to be angry with you until I've heard it."

Kakashi drew down his mask and raked his fingers through his hair. "Ah, I was having trouble with my team," he said. "Naruto was complaining about working on his basics, and someone once said that experience was the best teacher--maa, that was in Icha-Icha volume six, I believe--so rather than explain to them myself why the basics are important, I decided to let your students do it."

"You didn't bring in your team to teach my class because you didn't think I could do it properly?" said Iruka, arms moving from their resting place on his hips to cross over his chest.

Kakashi shook his head, his lazy façade disappearing entirely. "Iruka," he said, "if I didn't think you could teach properly, I wouldn't have accepted a group of your students, and I most certainly wouldn't have allowed them to pass my genin exam."

Gently, he drew his lover close, kissed the narrow line where Iruka's lips usually were. "I don't get to take out my frustrations on Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura with a red pen. It was either make them spend the morning with your class, or send them to the bottom of the river with a jutsu they'd not be able to throw off before they ran out of air."

Iruka snorted, but rested his cheek against Kakashi's chest, all the same. "Some days, I wonder why we teach," he sighed.

"I've yet to have a day where I know why at all," said his lover.

<@ <@ <@

Thursday, 12:56 p.m.

It wasn't until the following day, when Iruka's students arrived to class with bruises and stories about training with real ninjas the previous afternoon, settling at their desks with a sincere interest in learning the material Iruka had prepared for them, that Iruka remembered why he loved to teach.

"I asked my dad," said Genma's son, his words a bit slurred around the toothpick he was struggling to hold between his teeth while still talking, "and he said being a ninja was the hardest job in the world after fatherhood, and that teaching a bunch of brats was harder than that."

Iruka laughed and didn't argue. "I don't have children," he said, "so I wouldn't know."

On his lunch break, he looked out over the courtyard where he'd first met his lover, and raised his hand in a small wave to the tall jounin leaning against the tree. Kakashi winked at him, then returned to lecturing Naruto, who was sitting in the swing, cocking his head when Sakura asked him a question, twisting her long hair around her index finger, something she only did when she was concentrating very hard. When Sasuke turned and said something to her, Kakashi nodded, more pleased than his genin would ever know, Iruka suspected.

Sighing, he returned to his lunch, glancing over his lesson for the afternoon with a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

His children really had passed into good hands.

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