I don't own Naruto… sigh…

something written on the spur of the moment... no actual editing or anything! hee! I hope you like! PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!

This is KakaIru fluff. NOT homosexuality but homosociality! LOVE the WORD! HOMOSOCIALITY! The most beautiful thing on earth!

Italics: Iruka's thoughts.

Orange or Milk

I found him in the frozen food section, squatting down on his haunches – like one of his many nin-dogs, trying to decide between orange juice or milk.

"I suggest you get both," I said and secretly enjoyed watching him twitch in well concealed surprise.

It is always hard to surprise him.

A small group of young women – mothers? – passed by and tittered as Kakashi quickly stood up and whirled around, holding the containers tightly.

Most nins dressed down for shopping – but Kakashi sure stood out in his Jounin uniform.

Does he have anything else to wear?

"You want yourself killed?" he asked.

"Sure," I smiled. "Any time I want an ignominious death, I'll surprise you while shopping. I'll be the first ninja to die of –" Here, I stretched over to grab a container of orange juice AND milk. "A blow to the head via a plastic milk bottle."

"Hn."

I can't tell if he's smiling, but he chuckles.

At least he finds it funny. At least he laughs now.

"I guess I can get both now…" he said.

"Get both now?"

"Before, I could afford only once choice?"

"What. Your dogs ate you out of house and home?"

"Naw – although Pakkun can be termed as 'high maintenance'… it's just that I spent quite a bit of money for Naruto-kun."

"Naruto?"

"He had bad habits… it was always imperative that I buy him new milk every so often – and then there was the vegetables…"

I stared at him. He walks away with both bottles now, and heads over to the fresh produce section to get some fruit and veggies.

In silence, we look over the lettuce. I blink, trying to reorganize my thoughts.

I don't need lettuce – still got some left over… Since when… but I do need cucumbers… since when… and maybe a couple of tomatoes…did the great Copy Nin care enough…

"Wait…" I said. "You bought him food?"

"I guess…" He shrugged. "Now that he's gone, I can go back to getting myself some goodies…"

He paused before the racks with nuts and pocky.

"Pocky…. Or maybe not…"

As I left the store, carrying my paper bag of stuff, I realize that I don't know much about anybody really. There are niches in all of our lives that no one can fathom – maybe least of all, ourselves.

I wonder.

Can truth be found in the frozen food section? Is it stored among the vegetables and milk?

Is love sometimes a gift that is so common it is forgotten?

How can I blame him, then? All those harsh words I said when they separated as a team… I told him, he hadn't cared enough… but what if that was just his way… who is to judge?

It would be just like him.

That night, I found him on his favorite rooftop, watching the moon in silence – and watching the still, square shoulders and lackadaisical eye, I know that he battles still with the blame.

So I sit there beside him, saying nothing. For a moment. Or two.

When he sighs the second time, I decide to make the move.

"It's funny how people show they care. But for each his own kind, right? Some of us have shown it by hugs and kisses and fond words. And others are more – pragmatic, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean, Iruka-sensei?"

He's teasing it out of me, so I give it to him – what he wants to hear.

"I'm sorry that I said you were heartless a month ago. I shouldn't have said that – and certainly not at the general meeting. I was too hard on you. And too superficial…"

"It's okay."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

I give up.

"Stop being so contradictory," I grumble. "Accept my apology!"

"Now you're telling me what to do, Iruka-sensei? What a teacher!"

He turns his head – and although the dim light shadows his eyes – there is a light tone to his voice.

Yes. He's definitely teasing me.

"Maa, maa… I don't think I'm in the right – I'm not going to say I'm perfect… obviously, something went wrong when we split up…"

"It was their choice, too."

"I was their leader. I was their parent, too. If not for Sakura, then, at least for the boys."

"True. But it's not your fault you acted like this. It's how you grew up. Your family life – which I heard about from Genma…"

"Genma…"

He sighed.

"What an idiot. He's got no right to blab about –"
"Well, somebody's got to. You'll always get misinterpreted if you keep everything in the dark!"

"Feh. I don't care what anybody thinks."

"Tell that to the moon that you stare at every night. You sit here alone – no denying it!"

He doesn't reply to that.

I think I hit something.

Then after a moment, in a quiet, husky voice, (is he fighting back tears?), "I'm fine. I can work it out on my own. I can do it."

"You don't have to." I smile gently. "I'm here, too. We can work on it together."

With that, my arm creeps around his bent shoulders, and he slowly relaxes enough to place his head on my shoulder. I turn my head slightly only to find a grey bush in my face (which smells like Sakura… and his dog, now that I think on it…) which is surprisingly soft and ticklish. I grin into it.

"Remind me to go shopping with you, next time," I murmur.

"I'll remember to forget," he says.

Forget?

He doesn't say.

I leave it at that.

There is a moment of thoughtful silence.

Then:

"Say, Iruka, what did you think of that new white grape/ mango mix they just put out? It looks good – but you know how I hate the taste of mangos… have you tried it yet?"

"Yeah… lots of mango… mmmm…"

"Ew! You're sick!"

"Sick? You call me sick, you pervert!"

"I'm not a pervert! Stop calling me that!"

"Oh yeah! What about THIS?"

"That's not porn – it's classical romance! For crying out loud! HEY! GIVE IT BACK! NOW! IRUKAAA!"