Kakashi was so tired of being told about his astounding gifts. He wished he could collect every copy of every Bingo Book and blank out his name, or at least replace it with something less… Just less.
It wasn’t enough that he had graduated from the Academy at five, or made chuunin at six. It wasn’t enough that he’d made jounin. Look how well that turned out. Obito’s gift to him on that occasion had ruined the rest of his life.
His ANBU status, his thousand memorized jutsu, his new inventions – none of those things helped him sleep at night.
“I told everyone no gifts,” Iruka muttered as he accepted a bouquet of flowers delivered to their front door.
“You know people don’t listen,” Kakashi mused, burying his face in his morning coffee.
Iruka snorted. “Especially not silver-haired jonin,” he jabbed. “You got me a gift. Admit it.”
“Maa…” Kakashi hedged, scratching the back of his head.
Iruka grunted, stomping off to the kitchen to put the flowers in water.
“I promise you’ll like it,” Kakashi tried, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist.
“That remains to be seen,” Iruka muttered in reply.
“Hey,” Kakashi said, suddenly serious.
“What?” Iruka asked, turning his head.
Kakashi placed a small kiss on Iruka’s lips and smiled, melting Iruka’s heart.
“Happy birthday my love.”
Another year older than he had been, and what did Iruka have to show for it? Another crop of students who had graduated and moved beyond him. Another set of holidays to be suffered through alone – New Year, Spring Equinox, Obon, and all the rest. Another year towards retirement and a pension, when he would be left entirely alone except for any former students who thought to visit.
He hated it.
Was it so wrong to want someone who would walk beside him, someone to hold, someone to love?
Was it so wrong to dream of that person being Kakashi?
Iruka steeled himself for the “party of the century,” as Genma so delicately put it. After one last tug of his ponytail, he followed Kakashi out to the celebration location.
Except when they got there, they stood on top of the Hokage monument alone. No one else was around.
“Kakashi, what is this? Where’s the party?” he asked.
“There was no party. I know you hate them. It was all a ruse to hide the surprise.”
“I thought I said no surprises, Kakashi!”
“I think you’ll forgive me for this one.” Sinking to one knee, he pulled out a small box.
“Iruka, I never imagined getting older. Frankly I thought I’d be dead by now. But being with you has given me a new perspective. I want to grow older, if it means that I get to do it by your side. Umino Iruka, will you marry me?”
Iruka nodded, the tears flowing freely. “Yes, you crazy jonin. I look forward to growing older with you. I love you so much.”
As far as birthdays went, this one meant more than any celebration ever could.
I am very late to the party, but I managed to do a drabble for the Age prompt!
Iruka stared at his reflection in the mirror, and sighed. Another grey hair, another wrinkle. He was getting old, way too fast for comfort. What happened to his youth?
“What’s wrong, Ru?” Kakashi asked, wrapping his arms around him from behind.
“Just look at me… I’m old.”
“You’re beautiful.” Kakashi kissed Iruka’s neck.
“How can you say that when I look over fifty?”
“Because no matter how old you get, I always see the man I fell in love with; and he’s beautiful.”
Iruka smiled fondly.
Maybe age didn’t matter, when he had a husband who made him feel young.
Não importava quantos anos haviam se passado, quantos anos ele estava completando ou se lembrava quem era aquele ao seu lado.
Não fazia diferença para Kakashi.
Ele sempre imaginou que seria o primeiro a ir, ou a ter sua mente deteriorada pela idade. O destino parecia gostar de brincar consigo.
Durante todo o tempo que viveram juntos, superaram muitas coisas, desde a aversão de Iruka para aniversários até sua recusa com presentes.
Agora, eram aceitos de bom grado. Na maioria das vezes.
“O que é tudo isso?”
“São para você, querido. Feliz aniversário!”
“Obrigado, mesmo que tenha dito, sem comemoração!”