Iruka’s Pain.

Umino Iruka walked into the small restaurant, looking around for a few seconds before locating the tuft of gray hair in the far corner. With a smile, the Chuunin headed in that direction, stopping beside the man he was meeting to give him a light kiss on the cheek, and then sitting down.

He was blushing ever so slightly over his public display of affection, but to be honest, Hatake Kakashi always made him do weird things. Even if Iruka hated public displays of affection, when it involved Kakashi, it didn’t seem to bother him as much.

“Hey. How was your day?” Iruka asked with a smile as he picked up his menu.

The Jounin shrugged as he continued scanning the menu lazily, even though they both knew he was going to get the same thing as usual.

“Okay.” Iruka shifted slightly in his seat, a little pout forming on his lips at the other’s lack of communication. “How’s Naruto?”

“Good,” was the easy reply.

“Just ‘good’?” Iruka asked with a small smile. “Care to elaborate a little, there, Hatake? Is he improving at all? Are you making sure he doesn’t go overboard and injure himself?”

“Yamato’s got it covered.”

Hearing that name caused a stab of jealousy to course through Iruka’s veins and his hands tightened around the menu he was holding.

“I see.” He lowered his head so that Kakashi wouldn’t see his eyes laced with anger.

Yamato spent all fucking day with Kakashi, and then the few hours that Iruka shared with him, the name never failed to pop up. And now, like always, Kakashi was going to go off on a tangent and talk about Yamato, when all Iruka really cared about was finding out how Naruto was doing.

“Yamato performed a new jutsu today.”

Here we go. Yamato-time. As if spending the whole day with him isn’t enough.

Iruka could never decide if he was more jealous of Yamato, or just in pain from Kakashi’s blatant disregard for his feelings. He even wondered if the Jounin did it on purpose, just to see how far he could push him before he either snapped and tore apart the restaurant, or broke down into uncontrollable tears.

“He’s really something, Yamato is.” Kakashi put his menu down, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Keeping all of Kyuubi’s chakra in check like that—it can’t be easy focussing that much on just one person.”

Iruka snorted, despite himself. If there was one thing in the world that was easy, it was focussing on a single person. Hell, Kakashi did it all the time! Iruka did it, too, but it was a little upsetting to know the person he always focussed on was always thinking of someone else.

The Chuunin’s hands clenched against his thighs as his heart throbbed. Was Kakashi thinking of Yamato right now, even with Iruka sitting right in front of him? Was he wishing he was eating dinner and talking with Yamato instead of Iruka?

When had Iruka become less important, and not good enough for him? He was always there for the Jounin; he visited him when he was sick, and helped him finish his mission reports. He always did whatever the other man asked of him, but in the end, it still came down to Iruka not being enough.

Maybe it was his rank. Maybe it was his personality. Hell, it could’ve been that Iruka had just been a challenge, and Kakashi had only wanted him because he couldn’t have him. Now that he did, he was bored. It was like hunting: the best part is the tracking and the chase. Once the animal is caught, the happiness and excitement lasts only for a while before the hunter wishes he’d never caught the beast, so that the chase could go on forever.

As Iruka looked up at Kakashi, who was still droning on about Yamato, he felt suspiciously similar to an animal in a cage, listening to a hunter talk about a better animal out there who wouldn’t be as easy to catch.

“Hi there.”

Iruka jumped, startled, turning to the waitress standing next to him. She smiled kindly as she asked what they would like.

The Chuunin opened his mouth to answer when Kakashi interrupted him.

“Yamato.”

The brunette’s heart sank through his stomach and onto the floor as said man walked over to them, sitting down beside Kakashi before laughing about how stressful their day had been. The ANBU didn’t even acknowledge Iruka at all as Kakashi chuckled due to something he’d said.

The waitress was still hovering by Iruka’s elbow, but it was pretty clear the other two men didn’t  notice.

With a sigh, the Chuunin told her to come back in ten minutes. With a nod, she was gone.

Oh, Good. At least I know I’m not invisible, Iruka thought dryly.

He contemplated listening to their conversation, since it involved Naruto, but it had migrated from their day to the ANBU exams, Kakashi recalling how hard they had been.

With a sigh, Iruka knew it was no use. He stood loudly, his chair scraping across the floor. Neither men looked at him.

That hurt.

“Kakashi.”

The Jounin finished his sentence before turning to him, a look of mild annoyance in his eye due to the interruption.

“I’m not feeling well. I’m just gonna head home.”

“Good night,” was his simple reply before the Jounin turned back to Yamato and continued his explanation on the methods of the old ANBU exams.

“Bye.” Iruka muttered as he shoved his hands in his pockets and left the restaurant.

He stopped by Ichiraku on his way home for some dinner, but only ended up eating a fourth of his bowl. He left the old man what was due, plus more, asking him to give Naruto a ramen on him the next time the blond came in.

“Sure thing, Iruka.” Teuchi smiled. “He’ll be happy to know you thought about him. He misses spending time with you.”

“I miss it, too.” Iruka said as he left the stand. “He’s the only person who actually pay attention to me. Oyasumi.”

The old man cocked a confused eyebrow at Iruka’s comment, but ignored it, making note near the till that Iruka had paid for a bowl of ramen for Naruto, just so he wouldn’t forget to give it to the blond.

The night was turning against Iruka—or, that’s how he saw it, anyway. It was the absolute opposite of how he felt right then, walking alone down the dimly lit streets of Konoha with his hands shoved in his pockets. The sky was dark, but all the stars were shining brightly through the inky blanket. There were no clouds in the sky at all, and a cool breeze ran through the streets, countering the hot air that surrounded the inhabitants.

Iruka kind of wished the night would reflect his mood. Dark, cloudy, raining, cold, gloomy—the list could go on. If he’d had a choice, he would’ve been rained on right then and there, possibly struck by some lightning, a small mugging and maybe—if he was lucky—some kind of fatal injury.

But, the night remained calm and clear, and no muggers jumped out to steal his possessions. He was almost disappointed about it as he got home.

He entered his apartment and removed his sandals before locking the door. Padding across the floor, he fell down onto his bed, grabbing his pillow and hugging it to his chest before curling his body around it. Even lying there in his empty apartment, all he could think about was Kakashi’s constant chattering about Yamato—and it hurt.

It felt like every time Kakashi brought the ANBU up, a part of Iruka died. He didn’t know how much more of it he could take. How much longer he could stay with someone who obviously had no interest whatsoever in him.

And so, Iruka waited, lying there in bed. He didn’t know what, exactly, he was waiting for, only that he was hoping Kakashi would somehow make it up to him. A nightly visit, an apology letter shoved under his door, some chocolates—anything! Just—something to show that he still cared; that Iruka was still important in his life.

He waited. For seven hours, he waited, lying there in bed, jerking up at every small sound in hope that it might be Kakashi there to apologize.

No such luck.

Finally, when four-thirty in the morning came around, Iruka gave up and just went to sleep, ignoring the tears falling from the corners of his eyes.

END.