Chapter Text
That kid was back again.
Iruka peered out from behind the curtains in the safety of his home. The kid looked no more than seven or eight, with blond hair that refused to lay flat and blue eyes that glinted mischievously. An orange soccer uniform that was slightly too big for him hung off of his scrawny limbs. The hot summer sun was blazing overhead, yet this kid seemed to have nothing better to do than trample on Iruka’s lawn with his battered cleats.
This had been a daily occurrence ever since the weather got nice again. Iruka presumed it was because the youth soccer leagues had sprung up again in the summer, giving parents a welcome relief from their hyperactive children. And so like clockwork, every day at around noon this kid would come tromping down the sidewalk, leaving clumps of dirt and grass in his wake, and take specific joy in kicking up that lush, green, perfect lawn that Iruka had so painstakingly cultivated. For a man that couldn’t even keep a potted plant alive in college, that lawn was his baby.
The first time it had happened, Iruka had been sitting out on his porch with a pile of old lesson plans to review. Out of the corner of his eye, he had watched the kid veer off the sidewalk to tromp through his grass.
“Please stay off my lawn,” Iruka had politely but firmly called.
Once the kid finally registered his presence on the porch, he had looked him dead in the eye and made a point to stomp and twist real hard on the grass. Then he laughed at the strangled sound Iruka had made in response.
He really shouldn’t have given him that reaction. Now he made a point about doing it every time he came past. It seemed like the kid took special joy in tormenting him.
Iruka threw open his front door and stepped onto his porch. “Hey, stop that!”
Today, the kid just cackled, and he groaned. It was becoming too much of a routine. The kid knew there was nothing he could do about it. He stomped on his lawn, Iruka gave him attention, then the kid came back for more. It was an endless cycle.
Iruka considered reporting this to the HOA. Back when he was a wide-eyed college student dreaming about his future, he’d never imagined he’d spend his late twenties fussing about the state of his lawn and being an active member of the HOA. That said a lot about his nonexistent social life.
The kid had somehow picked up on that as well.
(One time, Iruka had made the mistake of stumbling out in his pajamas.
At first, the kid looked surprised to see him appear in a faded t-shirt and dolphin print pajama pants. Then he frowned. “Hey what gives, lady?
It took him a while to comprehend what he meant. Then Iruka furiously pulled his long hair back into the familiar ponytail. “I’m not a lady!”
The kid just scoffed. “Right, of course you’re single.”)
Iruka slunk back into the shade of his porch. His eyes drifted over to his garden hose. How moral would it be to spray the kid with water to get him off his lawn? It had worked once before, on that guy that liked to read a book while walking his fifty million dogs around the neighborhood.
He took the hose in hand and regarded the squeeze handle. What if the parents heard that Mr. Iruka from the local elementary school was spraying kids with water for trespassing on his lawn? Hell, it looked like this kid would be old enough to be in his class in a few years.
He glanced at the kid, who was still happily mucking up his lawn. His fingers tightened around the handle of the hose. He’d spent all year dealing with a classroom full of tiny brats, only to finally go on summer break to find one destroying his front yard.
Fuck ‘em kids, Iruka thought, and turned on the hose.
The concentrated stream of water blasted the kid squarely in the face. He let out an ear-piercing shriek, shot ten feet up into the air, and then bolted off down the street, not unlike a spooked cat.
Iruka hid a smile behind his hand, then blew on the nozzle of the hose as if blowing away smoke from a gun barrel. That’ll teach him.
To his dismay, the kid returned the very next day. The boy crept up to his yard, one wide, blue eye trained on the window that he knew Iruka would sometimes watch from. He stopped on the edge of the sidewalk and then- as if testing the waters- kicked at the corner of his turf.
It was a blisteringly hot day today, and Iruka had lain in wait in the cool shadows of his porch. He jumped up, hose at the ready, and opened fire. “Ha! Gotcha!”
To his surprise, the kid just stood there and let the hose water hit him square in the chest. “Ahhhhh,” he sighed, sagging under the cool spray. He turned around in a full circle to drench his back, then stopped and gave him a thumbs up. “Thanks, Mister!”
Then he walked off, leaving the lawn relatively undamaged and Iruka baffled.
“Back again for more, huh?” Iruka muttered as he hosed the kid down. It had been a week since the first incident. Now their daily battles went something like this: the kid would roll up, threaten to destroy his lawn, and Iruka would half-heartedly threaten him with the hose. It ended with the kid just standing there and Iruka wordlessly hosing him down. It was a strange ritual.
His parents had to know about their daily encounters by now, either through the kid telling them himself or him repeatedly showing up drenched. How had Iruka not gotten in trouble yet? He knew how the parents at the elementary school were. One attempt to discipline their precious little angels and Iruka would get an earful.
He let out a sigh. “Where are your parents?” he finally asked.
The kid squinted up at him and scratched the back of his head. “Haven’t got any.”
Oh. Oh.
He should’ve instantly recognized the pattern of behavior going on here. He’d even done it once, himself, when his parents had just died and the only sort of attention he could get from adults was by causing trouble. His hold on the squeeze handle of the hose loosened. The stream of water trickled to a stop.
The child looked up. “Huh? What’s wrong, Mister? Why’d you stop?”
He extended the hand not holding the hose. “I’m Iruka Umino. What’s your name, son?”
His words had the intended effect. The kid’s eyes widened, and he leaped forward to grab his hand. “I’m Naruto! Naruto Uzumaki! Nice to meet you, Mr. Umino!”
“Just Iruka, please.” He liked to tell parents that calling him Mr. Umino made him feel old, but really it just reminded him of his departed father.
“Okay, Mr. Iruka!”
What a polite kid. He couldn’t help the small smile that broke out across his face. Despite all of his destructive tendencies, Naruto still was a good kid at heart. It just took the right approach to bring out that side of him. Iruka thought fondly of his younger self, and sighed again.
A voice dragged him out of his thoughts. “Hey Mr. Iruka, can you turn on the hose again?” Naruto tugged on his sleeve. “I haven’t gotten my back yet!”
Iruka obliged. That was enough of a start for today.
The next day, Naruto rolled up to his lawn with an already developed air of familiarity. Iruka had the hose on already, watering the few frustrating dry spots in the grass that he just couldn’t get the damn sprinklers to cover properly.
The boy walked right up to him without a word. His cheeks were puffed red with heat and exertion. The kid grabbed the hose, and began desperately chugging on the stream of water like a salivating dog.
“Whoa whoa whoa!” Iruka hurriedly pulled the hose away before the kid could, god forbid, latch onto the nozzle itself with his mouth. He turned the water off. “Don’t drink that! It could make you sick!”
“Why not?” the kid asked. He folded his hands behind his head. “Nothing tastes better than ice cold hose water on a blazing hot day!”
“I’ve got something even better.” Iruka set the hose down and ran up the steps to his front door. “Wait here.” He returned a minute later with the bottle of gatorade that he had lying around in the fridge.
Naruto eyed the proffered beverage. The hot summer air had already caused a layer of condensation to form on the bottle. “For me?”
“Yes,” Iruka said, “All yours.”
The kid didn’t need to be told any further.
“Please stay hydrated,” he told Naruto as he gulped down the gatorade like the world was ending.
The kid wordlessly gave him a thumbs up.
Iruka always made sure to have a bottle of water or gatorade on hand every day after that.
It didn’t seem possible that the weather could get any hotter today.
Iruka stepped off his porch, his bare feet sliding past the numerous no dogs! signs stuck in the grass. He’d made sure to put on swim trunks today instead of his usual cargo shorts. Like many things he owned, there were dolphins on it.
He kept his hands tucked behind his back as Naruto ran up to him.
“What’s up, Mr. Iruka?” the boy said, curiously trying to peek behind his back. He must’ve known something was up the instant Iruka hadn’t appeared with the hose.
“Here.” Iruka removed one hand from his back and held the small water gun out to him. “I figured I’d give you an opportunity to take your revenge today.”
The kid’s eyes lit up. He immediately grabbed the water gun with both hands. “You better watch out, Mr. Iruka!”
“Oh, I’m not going to make it that easy for you,” Iruka smirked, and whipped out a second, identical water gun.
Naruto let out a shriek when his first shot of water hit him, and then he was off, kicking up the grass. Iruka made to chase after him for a few steps, then ran back laughing when Naruto went on the offensive. They chased each other around and around on the lawn, occasionally taking cover behind the large no dogs! signs and shooting at each other.
Iruka ducked behind the sign near the sidewalk. In response, Naruto huddled behind the sign set up against Iruka’s porch. His small size allowed him to completely disappear behind it. Iruka waited for the kid to pop back up again to shoot at him, but not even the tips of his unruly hair appeared. He was remaining unusually still for such a hyperactive child. What was he doing?
Deciding to use the situation to his advantage, Iruka stepped around his sign, his bare feet silent on the grass. He ran all the way up to Naruto’s sign uncontested, then lunged over it, water gun held at the ready. “Gotcha!”
In response, Naruto turned the garden hose on to full blast.
Iruka was finally met with how it felt to be on the receiving end of the hose. The blast caught him in the face, knocking his ponytail askew and sending water spilling down his shirt. He let out a surprised sputter.
Damn, that kid was smart.
The deluge finally ended. Iruka wiped the water off his face, then turned to send a watery glare at Naruto.
There must have been something furious in his expression, because Naruto stared back with wide eyes, already watery around the corners. As if he already knew he was in trouble, as if he were awaiting harsh words and angry gestures. The hose fell from his small hands.
Iruka froze, then frantically backpedaled mentally. He forced himself to let out a laugh. It started out faked, but he kept going until it became genuine. Until his ribs hurt and he had to clutch his stomach. Until the kid was joining in with him, the two of them cackling together as Iruka wrung out his hair and sodden shirt.
He hoped that after today Naruto would never need to fear him again.
A summer storm had blown in over the weekend, and Naruto had arrived absolutely covered in mud. Iruka had been worriedly waiting for him under the awning of his porch, hose no longer in hand since the heavens were doing his job far more thoroughly than he could. He took one look at the kid and said, “Would you like to come in and take a shower? Or at least dry off. I don’t want you catching a cold.”
So Iruka had opened his home to the kid. He sent him to the bathroom with a clean new towel, the smallest t-shirt of his that he could find, and a pair of his old boxers that would have to double as shorts. It was only when Iruka was tossing the boy’s mud-soaked clothes into the wash that he realized he hadn’t really thought this through. It would take about an hour or so for Naruto’s clothes to finish drying. He explained this to him once the kid had re-emerged from the bathroom drowning in Iruka’s old clothes, then offered something to make up for it: “Would you like some lunch while we wait?”
Naruto’s eyes sparkled. “Yes!”
Iruka frantically thought about what he could make on such short notice. He really hadn’t planned this out at all. “...would you be okay with some instant ramen?”
The kid’s eyes only grew wider. “YES!” he yelled, this time pumping his fists into the air.
Iruka smiled and turned to retrieve two cups of instant noodles from his pantry. Then he stopped, a thought occurring to him. “This won’t spoil your appetite when you get back, will it?”
“‘S okay Mister ‘Ruka.” Naruto rubbed his nose vigorously, “Sometimes I get back too late after practice anyways so I miss lunch.”
His words stopped him in his tracks. Naruto. Was missing lunch. To spend time with Iruka.
He put the kettle on and resolved to go grocery shopping later today. By god he was going to feed this child, even if he ate him out of house and home.
Lunch turned into an hour of sitting on the porch with Iruka drinking tea and Naruto rambling about anything and everything under the sun. The greatly exaggerated soccer moves he had pulled off, that ninja cartoon he was watching, the kids on his team that annoyed him (one boy with dark hair that was his arch nemesis, as he so proudly declared, and a girl with pink hair that would make fun of him every time he missed a kick and fell flat on his face).
Iruka was almost sad to see Naruto go after the rain finally let up.
Thoughts of Naruto started to leak into his everyday life. While out shopping on the weekend, Iruka had noticed a pair of children’s cleats on sale and had popped them into his cart without a second thought. Naruto had stubbornly (politely) refused to accept them until Iruka offhandedly pointed out that they might make him faster than the other kids.
Naruto seemed to be greatly driven by competition with his teammates. He made it clear while he pouted over a lunch of mac and cheese (a meal only marginally healthier than instant ramen). “Sasuke and Sakura are sooo mean! They always think they’re better than me when they’re not!”
“Don’t yell with your mouth full,” Iruka gently chided. Something that adults often forgot about children was that they could be nasty little brats. Iruka was constantly reminded of this every day in the classroom, and Naruto’s teammates sounded like they could certainly fit the bill.
Naruto made a point about swallowing his mouthful of mac and cheese and then slammed the end of his fork into the table. “I’ll show them! I’ll just have to practice harder!”
“Well I’ve played some soccer in college,” Iruka offered thoughtfully, “Maybe after lunch we can go kick a ball around outside on the lawn.” Because sometime between all of that, the hose had gone away. Iruka didn’t care if his lawn suffered anymore.
“Really Mr. Iruka!?” Naruto nearly shot out of his chair in excitement.
“After lunch!” Iruka emphasized before the kid could dash off into the front yard. “You need to eat well if you want to get faster.” He noted with relief when Naruto settled back down to finish his lunch, then set about trying to remember where he kept that old soccer ball of his in the garage.
After lunch, as promised, Iruka uprooted his no dogs! signs and stuck them in a straight line on the grass with evenly-spaced gaps in between them. Those signs were getting much more use out of them than he had intended.
Naruto watched him curiously. “Whatcha doing, Mister ‘Ruka?”
“I figured we could do some drills, since my lawn isn’t large enough for a full game.” Iruka set the ball down on the grass and demonstrated, carefully guiding the ball around each sign with his feet. He wouldn’t care to admit it, but by the time he reached the end of the line he was out of breath. Damn, helping the kid practice might end up forcing him to exercise more.
“Here Naruto, why don’t you try dribbling the ball between these signs now.” Iruka gave the ball a kick and sent it back down the line to where Naruto was standing. “Pretend they’re kids on the opposing team.”
The kid stared at the soccer ball for a moment, unsure, and then a determined look over took his face. “Right.”
At his heart, Iruka was a teacher. He couldn’t help but teach, even on his days off. It was his way of showing that he cared. And as he watched Naruto diligently kick the ball around the signs, he couldn’t help but feel a burst of pride.
The next weekend, Iruka bought a small goal for his lawn.