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Chapter Text

Iruka grunted as he hoisted up the set-piece by the rope pulley. When it was at the right height, he tied the ropes before he ran across the fly to drop the next piece. Scene changes were such a pain when he was working by himself.

He cursed Mizuki for disappearing. It was already stressful to run the fly with two people. One was nearly impossible.

When the set piece was in place and secured, Iruka let out a quiet sigh. He leaned over the railing to catch his breath, wiping the bit of sweat that had formed under his cap, and watched the rehearsal. 

The chorus girls danced about as they sang about the mysterious entrance to the Underworld. The orchestra played an odd tune, one that was both ominous but also soothing. Iruka could only think it was meant to welcome the dead but keep the living away. 

He could see Kaguya waiting in the wings for her cue, wearing a dress decorated with springtime flowers. When it came, she strutted out, almost floating with how voluminous her skirt was, singing out clear notes of bemoaning her need to escape her mother's smothering. 

"She still sings so dispassionately." 

Iruka slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from yelling as he jumped. He leaned over the railing, taking a few deep breaths to try calming his frantically beating heart. 

"Damn it, Kakashi," he hissed once he could breathe normally again. His heart rate spiked again, however, when he turned to look at the man by his side. Still, he kept up his glare. "Can you not try to scare me to death every time you show up?" 

There was a twinkle in the Alpha's right eye. It was the only thing that could be seen since he wore a smooth porcelain mask over the rest of his face. "Now where would be the fun in that?"

Iruka rolled his eyes.

He turned back to the rehearsal. He listened to Kaguya sing and silently agreed with Kakashi’s assessment. “She’s still really good,” he pointed out in a whisper.

Kakashi huffed. “You can have all the talent in the world-”

“But without the passion,” Iruka finished. He turned his head to Kakashi with a little grin. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

Kakashi chuckled with a nod.

Iruka’s breath caught when his friend leaned forward to look over the railing, invading the Omega’s space. Iruka tried not to let it get to him too much, but he caught a whiff of Kakashi’s scent. Filled with subtle sweet and sharp spices, Iruka always had to resist the urge to lean towards the Alpha whenever he smelled it.

He forced himself to turn away to look back down at the ballerinas and fought down the heat that wanted to engulf his face.

Thankfully, Conductor Teuchi cut the orchestra short to stop everything to give some direction to those on stage. Iruka leaned forward more to hear in case he needed to note a new cue. 

However, he was surprised when the managers of Shingeki stepped out from the wings. His curiosity was short-lived, however, when two men- both around Iruka’s age- followed them.

His breath froze and he almost pinched himself as he saw Hiruzen. Even with his head covered in a top hat, the Omega would always remember the face from his childhood. Out of all the things that had happened back then, Hiruzen felt like a true friend back then.

Tearing his eyes away, he studied the other man. It took him a moment longer to recognize Hiruzen’s best friend, Danzo, because of the eye patch the man now sported. He still had the scar on his chin though, which made it easy to identify him.

“What are they doing here?” he whispered as he watched the group of five talked and laughed amongst each other.

“Who?”

Iruka slightly jumped when Kakashi leaned over him more. Heart beating fast, he about hissed at the Alpha to move back when he heard the man’s breath hitch. He turned his head slightly and saw Kakashi’s eye widen and honed on the group below. 

Before he could ask what was wrong, Teuchi’s voice rose above the typical commotion of theatre work.

“With respect, managers!” he hollered, voice still pleasant but annoyed, “I am rehearsing! We still have things to work out before the performance! Do you want us to fail opening night in a few days?”

There was a nervous laugh before Yahiko stepped forward. “Forgive the interruption,” he apologized. He spun in a small circle, waving a hand to all around, as he called, “But if we could ask for everyone’s attention?”

Iruka felt Kakashi pull back and saw him fall back into the shadows. The Alpha nodded, a half-smile conveyed in his eye, and Iruka smiled a little back.

Feeling like this announcement could be significant, Iruka went to the end of the fly and took a rope to rappel down.

He joined the small crowd that had gathered around the edges of the stage. He purposely kept to the edges but still enough to see into the particle circle. 

Yahiko grinned brightly at the crowd. "Thank you all," he nodded. "I promise this won’t' take long." 

He waved a hand and was joined by his two partners, Nagato and Konan. "So some of you have been speculating," he laughed as he wrapped his arms around their waists, "and we would like to announce that the rumors are true! Nagato and Konan are pregnant!" 

A big raucous of clapping echoed in the theatre as everyone congratulated the trio. Iruka smiled broadly as he joined in. It explained why Yahiko was strutting around like a peacock these past few months. The Alpha had a right to be excited about having kids with his Beta and Omega. 

"That being said," Konan spoke as everyone quieted. With a bittersweet smile, she finished, "With a heavy heart, we have decided to announce we have sold the opera house so that we can return to Ame."

Murmurs went through the crowd. 

"We understand it is worrisome," Nagato interjected, quieting everyone again. "But we have been giving this some thought for a while." The Omega developed a slight blush as he placed a hand on his stomach. "But when we learned of our pregnancies, we decided we would like to raise our children in our home country."

The discontent in the air eased.

Yahiko stepped away from his mates. “But!” he added. “We have left you in good hands!” 

He waves a hand toward Danzo and Hiruzen, encouraging them to step forward. “We would like to introduce you all to your new managers! Viscount Sarutobi and Viscount Shimura!” 

Iruka’s breath froze before a wide grin crossed his face. He quickly joined in the clapping that erupted, almost not believing what a coincidence this all was. He nearly broke through the crowd and hopped right up to Hiruzen again but held back due to the uncertainty that the man would recognize him. He would always have time later though.

Hiruzen stepped forward as he removed his hat. “Thank you, thank you,” he gave small bows in all directions to everyone. “We are greatly honored to become the managers of Konoha’s renowned Shingeki.”

Danzo stood stiffly behind the other Alpha, arms folded while he nodded at what Hiruzen said. He smiled, and Iruka did a double-take. As a child following the older kids, Iruka rarely saw Danzo smile. 

"And we also have plans to take the opera house and everyone here," Danzo announced, "with the great backing of our new investors: the Senju and Uchiha families."

Iruka's mouth dropped while excited murmurs went around. Of course, Shingeki would benefit immensely with the backing of the two most prominent duke houses in Konoha. And while that was amazing, it felt like many old names from Iruka's past were converging on his home- coming in too fast for him to handle.

“Well, now that announcements and introductions have been made,” Konan waved a hand, “we will let everyone get back to work.”

The trio of old managers looked at everyone with sad eyes but broad smiles. “Thank you all for your attention,” Yahiko added. Yahiko and Nagato bowed while Konan curtsied to everyone. “And for all the wonderful years we have had together!”

Fighting back the emotions that threatened to choke him, Iruka clapped with everyone else. It would certainly be different when the old managers were officially gone, but he couldn’t hold it against them for their wishes. He only wished them all the best.

When it all died down, there was a pause as Konan, Yahiko, and Nagato returned to Danzo and Hiruzen before the crowd dispersed. Iruka lingered and shifted on his feet, tempted to approach the small group to see if he could reintroduce himself to Hiruzen.

Before he could make the decision, however, someone wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “What are you doing?” Mizuki laughed. “Trying to size up potential spouses?”

Iruka rolled his eyes and delivered a sharp jab to his friend’s side. Although he wasn’t vindictive, he did get a bit of satisfaction when Mizuki winced harshly.

“Don’t be stupid,” Iruka reprimanded, removing Mizuki’s arm. Walking away to clear the stage, he asked, “And where were you earlier when we were rehearsing? I needed you on the fly!”

“Tazuna needed me,” Mizuki answered while he rubbed the place that Iruka hit. “And I got caught up in that.”

Iruka gave the Beta a measured look while he frowned. Yet Mizuki just tried to appear innocent as possible with a cheeky smile.

Seeing that he wasn’t going to find an answer, Iruka just sighed with a shake of his head. “Come on,” he moved to the ladder to go back up to the fly. “We have to get back to work.”

“Nope!”

Iruka paused and turned to see Anko bounding over to the two of them. She practically tackled Iruka as she smirked. 

“Tazuna needs your help with something Iruka,” she announced. “So Mizuki and I will hand the fly.” She looked at the other man.

Iruka watched Mizuki’s smile turn uneasy while he shifted on his feet. “You sure Tazuna did mean me?” he questioned. 

“Nope!” Anko’s grin grew. “He specifically asked for Iruka.”

She then pushed Iruka off in the direction where some sets were being made. “Not get going! You know how that old man gets when he is kept waiting!”

Iruka glanced over his shoulder, unease in his chest. “You two going to be okay together?”

Anko cackled while Mizuki eyed her wearily. “What?” she asked. “You think I am going to push Mizuki off the fly?”

Iruka chuckled nervously as Mizuki’s face turned white. The Beta sent him a pleading look, but Anko grabbed him by the suspenders to manhandled him to the fly ladder.

Iruka sighed and tried to push back his worries. He did give one final glance up though, and saw Kakashi was no longer visible anywhere in the fly tower.

He huffed as he turned away, not for the first time wondering how the Alpha did that.

When he approached the sets, Tazuna was already yelling directions at a few of the stagehands from the base of a temple motif.

“Boss!” Iruka greeted with a wave. “Anko said you need me?”

Tazuna paused. His eyes were hard, annoyed at being interrupted, but softened a bit when he landed on Iruka.

“Ah, good,” the older man grunted, “you’re here.” He pointed over to another set piece of a visage of the ghastly Underworld of Hades’ realm. 

“I need you to keep an eye on Kotetsu and Izumo,” he ordered. “They keep sneaking off for ‘alone time,’” his tone dripped with sarcasm at the end, “and we can’t afford to fall behind.”

Iruka giggled. “Definitely Kotetsu’s fault,” he grinned. “But I’ll make sure they do their jobs.”

“Good lad!” Tazuna laughed. He then turned away and started hollering his orders.

Iruka wandered off then and went over to the big set piece. He prayed that he didn’t stumble onto the pair in a compromising position or have to hunt them down. It took him a moment to find his friends and, thankfully, they were working on rigging on lights that would help the flames give it a realistic flicker.

“You two always cause trouble,” he laughed, catching the duo’s attention.

“Hey, now,” Kotetsu grumbled, “that’s not always true.”

Izumo sent his partner an unimpressed look. Kotetsu just grinned back, trying his best to appear innocent.

“Let me guess,” Izumo sighed with a shake of his head. He turned to Iruka, “Tazuna has you with us so this idiot,” he jabbed a thumb over at Kotetsu, “doesn’t keep dragging us away from our work.”

Kotetsu made an indignant noise while Iruka cackled.

“Exactly,” Iruka giggled. He came next to the two betas and knelt. “So, what do you need me to do?”

After he was given his task, the trio continued to work. They quipped and razzed each other until Kotetsu asked with a sly grin, “So you think the old managers told the new ones about our phantom?”

Iruka felt himself get hot under the collar at the mention. He forced himself to not look around to the shadowy places where Kakashi could be hiding.

“Stop being ridiculous,” Izumo rolled his eyes. Yet even he looked around the rafters as if he would find a ghost.

“How am I being ridiculous?” Kotetsu countered. “Everyone here knows about it! And you can’t say that the accidents that have happened are always natural.”

Iruka bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to say those weren’t Kakashi’s fault, that he would never do those accidents that endangered people’s lives. He was an ordinary- if an eccentric- man but not sadistic. Yet if he did, that would open him up to all sorts of questions. He could barely explain the ones that he did receive about Kakashi’s scent being on him after the two of them would secretly meet.

Before either he or Izumo could respond, Kaguya’s voice carried over the work noise. Iruka recognized that it wasn’t one of the chorus songs from the beginning but a solo near the end of act one.

“I didn’t realize we had been working so long that they were almost at the end of the rehearsal,” Kotetsu muttered, looking in the direction.

“Probably not,” Izumo huffed as he and Iruka continued to work. “The manager’s probably want to see what our six-season Prima Donna can do.”

“They should already know!” Kotetsu pointed out, turning back to his work. “She was super famous before she came to Shingeki.”

“Then she retired young,” Iruka recalled. “She set up a family and had kids.” He paused to look at Kotetsu. “Remember the rumors; she only came out of retirement six years ago because of the Great War.” He then went back to connect wires. “It makes sense that they want to see if she still can sing.”

“Well, of course, she can,” Kotetsu mumbled. “No way the managers would keep her working if she didn’t.”

“I do wish we had someone else, though, Izumo bemoaned. “She sings beautifully, but she always looks down on us ‘lowly’ workers.”

Iruka and Kotetsu grumbled in agreement.

As Iruka picked up the next wire to connect, there was the sound of frightened screams before a thundering thud that shook the ground under Iruka’s feet.

His heart stopped as he jumped up along with Kotetsu and Izumo. They all raced toward the stage, along with everyone else as Kaguya’s scream rang out with pain and fear.

Rushing toward the stage out of breath, Iruka caught the tail end of some stagehands removing a rolled canvas backdrop that should have been hanging from the fly off to the side. The old and new managers meanwhile helped a shaken Kaguya up to her feet.

“God damn it!” Danzo snapped. He looked up. “You two! What the hell were you both doing?”

“Don’t look at us!” Anko’s voice hollered back. “We were working on helping rig another set piece! We were nowhere near that backdrop!”

“Honest to God!” Mizuki echoed. He then cackled, “Maybe it was a ghost!”

Iruka rolled his eyes but heard a smack before Mizuki cried out a little in pain.

“Are you well?” Yahiko asked softly, him and Konan holding Kaguya up while Nagato went to retrieve a chair.

Iruka saw Kaguya’s pale face before it grew dark red.

“‘Well?’” she snapped. She wrenched herself out of the two manager’s grasp. “‘Well?’ I was almost killed by having something drop me! Would you be ‘well?!’”

“Madam Ootsutsuki,” Hiruzen tried to soothe. He took a step toward her but she sent him a warning look and he stopped. “It was an accident...”

“And for the past five years, these ‘accidents’ have been happening!” She pointed at the old managers. “And you three never did anything about it!”

“Madam Ootsutsuki,” Danzo interrupted. His placating smile was strained as Hiruzen’s. “As your new managers, I can promise you we will take extra precautions to make sure these accidents will not happen again.” He cast a glance at the old managers and carefully added, “With respect to the other managers, with the extra funding we will have, we can put better safety measures.”

Kaguya sneered primly. “Well then,” she tossed her loose hair over her shoulder as she stood straighteners. “Until I see the signs of improvement, I refuse to work in this environment!” 

A silence fell over all that watched. 

Iruka was no different, frozen in place, as Kaguya’s words reverberated in his head. When he slightly processed them, he peered around to witness dropped jaws and wide eyes- even from all the managers. 

Kaguya, however, paid everyone no mind. She just disdainfully walked away, still in full Persephone costume, and demanded someone to get her personal carriage. The entourage of personal maids that followed her everywhere quickly scrambled after her.

There was a moment of silence before soft murmurs of fear and concern echoed through the stage space.

Danzo let out a loud curse. 

“Unbelievable,” Hiruzen sighed.

“You three said the accidents were sometimes normal,” Danzo accused. “Is it so common that we just lost our star?” 

Konan, Yahiko, and Nagato stiffened with hard faces.

“I can promise you,” Konan stated frankly, “that they have been normal accidents.”

Danzo scoffed while he folded his arms. “So should we just blame this ‘accident’ as well on your ‘Phantom’ or whatever you call it?”

“Danzo, that is enough!” Hiruzen snapped with a sharp look to the other Alpha.

The other man did grow quiet but continued to glare at the older managers.

After taking a deep breath, Hiruzen sent a strained smile to the former managers. “Forgive him,” he apologized. “It is just a shock to suddenly lose our star.” He brought up a hand to rub his short beard. “Do you think she will come back if we talk to her?”

Yahiko and Nagato lowered their hackles, but Konan still wore a stern face.

“Ah,” Yahiko pondered. “Perhaps? Not saying she won’t be receptive to us, but she can be,” he pursed his lips, “be a bit...willful.”

Danzo and Hiruzen’s grim face didn’t change at the news.

“Why are you all moaning about the loss?”

Iruka turned with everyone to the person who interjected. Tsunade, the Ballet Mistress, had her head propped against her fist as she leaned on one of the sets. Her expression was unimpressed.

“Oh?” Danzo inquired, tone a tad mocking. “Do you have a better idea Mistress Senju?”

Tsunade smirked. Yet rather than responding, she took to peering around the crowd.

The hair on the back of Iruka’s neck stood up when her eyes landed on him. And it didn’t go away when her smile grew before she looked away.

Standing straight, she approached the managers. “All you need is a new singer, right?” She put a hand on her hips, jutting the other one out. “So find a new one.”

“And how do you expect us to do that?” Danzo’s tone was now even, but his eye was still filled with anger. “We can’t just have anyone be a lead singer.”

“Of course not,” Tsunade agreed. “But we have our own hidden talent amongst our staff. In fact, I can name one right now who has more talent than Madam Ootsutsuki ever will.”

Iruka’s whole body grew hot as the managers, even the old ones, developed questioning faces. 

“And who would that be?” Hiruzen asked.

Tsunade turned to  Iruka’s direction again. He shook his head, but she just smiled. “One of our stagehands,” she waved a hand at him, “Iruka Umino.”

It felt as if a spotlight had been shined on him as the people around him parted. He sort of prayed that he was standing on a trap door and it would suddenly open up.

Instead, he felt a shove. He glared over his shoulder to see Izumo and Kotetsu with thumbs up and encouraging smiles. When Iruka looked away, he swallowed and hesitantly approached the managers. 

Tsunade continued to smirk. All the manager’s expressions though were confused, except for Hiruzen’s. The Alpha wore one as if he was trying to place Iruka’s name. It wasn’t until Iruka had removed his flat cap did his eyes light up in recognition.

“Oh my God,” Hiruzen whispered. He approached Iruka with open arms. Speaking loud, “Iruka? My God, it is you!”

Despite feeling awkward, Iruka welcomed his old friend’s tight hug. When Hiruzen pulled away, he grabbed Iruka’s shoulders and looked him up and down. “You look like you have taken care of yourself,” he laughed with a firm pat before he let go. “I had no idea you worked here!”

Iruka gave an unease smile. “Ah, he coughed to clear his throat before he chuckled nervously. “Well, we haven’t kept up with each other since I was a kid, Viscount Sarutobi.” 

“Please!” the Alpha laughed. “Call me Hiruzen! Our families were friends after all!”

Iruka nodded, his smile easing into something more natural.

“Ah,” Danzo spoke up, catching both of their attentions. “Now I remember you.” He tilted his head and gave Iruka a measured look. “The Sarutobi family took you in when your parents died.” A corner of his mouth twisted downward. “Then you ran away when you were sixteen.”

Iruka tried to keep a smile on his face as Hiruzen gave him a disapproving look. Around them, the crowd murmured.

It wasn’t as if Iruka had hidden his past but it was an unspoken rule not to ask. Everyone came from all sorts of backgrounds, and it wasn’t all good. The friends that had asked, he did tell the truth, just not the title or name of the family he had run away from.

“Enough!” Tsunade’s voice swooped in. She sent a sharp look to everyone in the crowd. “So he ran away from the Sarutobi household. We all know he came from a Baron’s family that was distantly related to the Senju, so why is this news so shocking? The families were probably close to each other.” She shook her head. “We all have our stories, and we all know Iruka now. How does knowing a little more about his past change who he is?”

More murmurs, but this time in agreement.

Tsunade smirked at her victory. She then strolled over to Iruka and Hiruzen.

She grabbed Iruka’s wrist and pulled him forward to the other four managers. “Now,” she let go of him and put a hand on her hip. “Back to the issue at hand.” She grinned, “Iruka is a marvelous singer.”

As expected, there were skeptical looks on the manager’s face, though the older managers tried to be polite about their feelings.

“Do you really expect us to believe a stagehand,” Danzo asked curtly, “can sing the lead parts?”

Tsunade frowned and glared at him. “I can verify,” she snapped, “as well as many others that he can.” 

“I can certainly corroborate!” Iruka glanced over to where the ballet dancers were. Rin, Prima Ballerina, was excitedly smiling.

“All of us in the chorus will back up Mistress Tsunade’s claim,” she giggled, waving a hand at all the dancers. “He helped so many of us with our singing. He is the best!” And that started a chorus of confirmations from everyone.

Iruka felt his face grow hot as Tsunade laughed sharply and patted him on the back. He winced because even if it wasn’t hard, it still was strong. 

Iruka ducked his head and muttered, “It’s not that amazing of a thing...”

Tsunade snorted, and he gazed up at her. She smirked cheekily down at him. “Don’t sell yourself short, Iruka,” she gently reprimanded. “You have a beautiful voice. And the children love it when you sing to them at night.”

Iruka frowned. “I thought you were too busy drinking to notice,” he continued to mutter.

Tsunade raised an eyebrow at him. “Not likely.”

Iruka made a mental note to never underestimate the woman’s drunkenness.

“...Can you be certain?” Hiruzen questioned. He considered Iruka. “You did have a nice voice growing up, but that was years ago.”

Iruka understood where the Alpha was coming from but a slight bit of irritation formed in his chest. Hiruzen made it sound like it had only been some short years ago or something. When in actuality, the last time they saw each other was ten plus years ago.

“Things change,” Tsunade voiced his thoughts. She started all the managers down. “Are you really doubting me?”

All the managers hesitated. Finally, Yahiko spoke, “I supposed it couldn’t hurt.” He turned to Iruka. “Do you think you can?”

Iruka’s heart skipped a beat. “I- I don’t know the words,” he protested. 

Tsunade smacked his back. “You’re a fast learner,” she smirked. “You could learn all the lines in three days. You have certainly helped the choir with that more than once.” Her eyes grew bright. “Why do you sing a song to prove your talent?”

She looked at the new managers. 

Danzo and Hiruzen relaxed a little and, after sharing a glance, nodded. “That would certainly ease our concerns,” Hiruzen agreed. 

“Great!” Tsunade chuckled. Iruka stiffened at hearing the deviousness in it. “Why don’t we up the ante a little too?”

She put her hands on her hips. “If he can sing, then I get a raise.” She put a finger up before either the two male Alphas could speak. “And if he can’t,” she emphasized the words as if it was ridiculous, “then I will take a pay cut.”

It was as if a cold bucket of water was dumped on Iruka while he looked at her horrified. Shingeki paid for rooms, food, and essential clothes for all workers and staff but did get a stipend for staff and workers (with those in higher positions getting more). Some saved their money, others sent it to loved ones that were struggling, and others spent it as soon as they got their hands on it. But those who were younger- like the boys and girls in the ballerina dorms- weren’t paid. 

All middle and lower-class families sent their children to the dorms if they could (especially Omega children) in hopes for their child to either rise as a star or marry rich. Since the children didn’t make money, however, Tsunade would set aside a small sum of her salary (that wasn’t spent on drinking or gambling) to spoil all the children. 

The Ballet Mistress sent him a smirk and, while forcing a smile, it took all of his strength to not cuss her out. She knew what she was doing. Now he couldn’t intentionally sing off-key, not at the cost of the Alpha losing her salary that helped the children. 

Hiruzen and Danzo didn’t respond to Tsunade’s challenge at first.

Noticing this, Tsunade goaded, “Don’t think you can? Even with two duke families as your patrons?”

A flash of anger filled Danzo’s eyes. “Madam,” he stated flatly. “We had hoped  to announce that at the gala we have set the day before the opening to spread the news of the change in ownership.” His jaw tensed. “But as it is, we might have to refund a full house!”

“Then you have nothing to lose on this bet.” Tsunade raised an eyebrow. “You can either give me a raise if I win or lose even more money by refunding the house.”

Danzo sent her a dark glare.

“You’re right,” Hiruzen nodded. “At this point, we have nothing to lose.”

He looked at Iruka. “Would you be willing to sing the aria at the end of act one?”

Iruka grimaced. “But I don’t know the words,” he protested again.

“Teuchi!” Tsunade called, glancing at the orchestra pit. “You have some sheet music with the words to the song?”

Once the conductor confirmed it, Tsunade went over to the pit and was handed the sheet. She waved it as she came back to Iruka’s side. 

“There,” she proudly handed them over. “Now you have the words.”

Iruka looked over the sheet, seeing the words and, since Kakashi taught him, sight-read the notes that accompanied them.

“So?” 

Iruka looked up at the Alpha’s grinning, challenging face. He glanced at the managers then looked out at the audience seating. He tried to imagine singing to a full house, and his stomach grew tight as a solid pit formed in it. He had only sung lullabies to the children, helped the choir practice, or small performances for his friends. Never in a thousand years could he imagine himself singing to a crowd of strangers.

That thought in mind, he nearly shook his head. But then he took one last look at those around. The other hard-working people- his family- of the opera house all had encouraging and hopeful faces. It broke his resolve a little. He glanced up over the brim of his hat to the fly and rafters, and his mind went to Kakashi. 

He remembered when Kakashi had first heard him sing- a few months into their odd friendship. How the man’s eye was so wide in shock, but that was quickly overcome by pure joy. He was the one that truly saw the potential in Iruka’s voice. He was the one that asked to train Iruka, never asking for anything in return. The Alpha taught him how to harness his passion for music, see the beauty of the notes and words on paper, and coaxed his voice to where it was now. 

Of course, Iruka knew that Kakashi didn’t mind him only wanting to share his talent with those close to him. While pushing his voice physically, he never forced the idea that Iruka should approach the managers for a starring role. He just wanted to give Iruka the voice he knew was there, one that was untrained and hiding.

Iruka didn’t want to be a star. Far from it. But he did want Kakashi to be recognized for how far he had taken him. That the Omega could sing for a crowd of strangers because of how the Alpha honed his gift. He wanted the world to see it, even if they never knew who his teacher was. 

Sighing softly, he realized his mind was made up.

Heart pounding fast, he turned back to the managers. “I..,” he cleared his throat before swallowing after it cracked. “Yes,” he pronounced, stronger, and with a firm nod. “But only the beginning.”

Danzo and Hiruzen stared at him before they nodded. 

After Tsunade and the new managers shook hands on their bet, everyone cleared the stage. 

Iruka took a stance in the center stage. He was acutely aware of everyone’s stares. It didn’t help the thundering of his heart in his chest or the queasy sensation that continued to torment his stomach.

Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths. It helped ease his tense body and the constriction on his lungs. Then, as Kakashi taught him, he stood up straight but in a relaxed posture. 

With a final swallow to wet his throat, he opened his eyes. He nodded to Teuchi that he was ready. 

When the notes started softly, Iruka pushed back all distractions. All he focused on was the music that surrounded him as he submerged himself into Persephone's character.

He imagined himself as the greek goddess, singing to the mouth of the cave that led to the Afterlife. Hades was returning to his Underworld throne after having escorted him back to the surface in order to stop the havoc his mother was causing on the world. 

"Think of me," he began singing softly, one part in nervousness but mostly from imagining how he would feel at that moment. Most likely, he would believe that while his visit would only be in passing, there was something profound that he and Hades shared. A connection that they had to one another but didn't explore. They both knew he couldn't stay, yet neither of them could deny what was between them. "Think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye."

Voice growing in strength, he sang on, hoping his words would carry down the cave to Hades. "Remember me, once in a while. Please promise me you'll try."

He placed a hand over his heart, barely noting that he had dropped his hat in the process or how he still read the lyrics before him. All he knew was that his heart was hurting because he was losing something he knew was special. Only, he wasn't entirely confident if the God of the Underworld felt the same way. "When you find, that once again you long to take your heart back and be free... If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me..."

The music swelled, and Iruka blinked as they played on. They didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon, either.

It wasn’t until he glanced over at the managers did he see why. Tsunade was waving her hands for the orchestra to continue. When she turned to him, she wore a huge smile and also encouraged him to sing more.

All the managers weren’t stopping her. That mostly was because they were all staring at him with wide eyes and some sported dropped jaws. Danzo also had a bright, calculating eye that made Iruka internally shiver in unease.

He then peered around, and everyone wore ecstatic smiles. “Come on, Iruka!” Anko shouted from the fly. “Give us a small performance!”

Iruka’s body grew so hot he thought he would burst into flames while everyone echoed his friend’s words. When he looked up to the people above, he swore he caught a flash of white and red. 

His body grew warmer at the thought that Kakashi hadn’t left like the Omega thought and was watching him the whole time. Small performances together were one thing but in a crowd- when his decision was based on singing for Kakashi- was another thing entirely. 

Pushing the embarrassing thoughts to the back of his mind, he glanced back over to the managers. When there was still surprise lacing their faces, their dropped mouths were now smiling. Then, silently, Hiruzen waved for him to resume, joining Tsunade. 

Feeling put on the spot, Iruka decided to acquiesce to the demands. He focused back on the sheet of music, nearly missing his cue, and let the music consume his focus again.

Chapter Text

The next three days were a blur. After his impromptu performance, Iruka was crowded up by the managers. Konan, Yahiko, and Nagato all gushed on his voice and wondered why they never knew of it. Hiruzen and Danzo also appeared thrilled, with Hiruzen more vocal on his praise of Iruka’s singing than Danzo. 

Before he realized it, Iruka was then whisked away into the bowels of the theatre. 

His days were then filled with memorizing lines and songs, rehearsals, and costume fittings. He barely had time to even eat during the day!

Each night he came back to his quarters, his friends would hound him on his new stardom. Iruka could only mumble out answers to the inquiries and the denial of his new position before his head hit the pillow and he was out like a light with a smile on his face.

Perhaps the hardest thing though was he couldn’t sneak away to visit Kakashi. The late-night visits, or even the times the Alpha would grace him during the day, were something he always looked forward to. And after the first day, the Omega had only just realized how prominent they had become in his life. It left an empty hole inside of him that only their quiet talks and laughter could fill.

Rather than dwell on that emptiness, however, Iruka filled it another way. He threw everything he had into his role; his only desire to make Kakashi proud and show off what his friend’s teaching had done. Sometimes, he felt like he would be awarded by catching a glimpse of white and red in the shadows out of the corner of his eye. It made his heartbeat fast just thinking of the other man watching.

It all accumulated into the opening night, where the orchestra’s music permeated the air of a crowded theatre. It swelled and subsided, but all eyes were on Iruka as he stood center stage, facing the audience. Rather than even being aware of them to be nervous, he held a hand over his heart as he stared softly at the finished cave set piece.  

The music matched perfectly with the ache he felt inside his chest and gave him a moment to show how he struggled not to just run back to the entrance but knowing he couldn’t. 

The orchestra’s song slowly softened, allowing Iruka’s bittersweet tinged notes to ring out, “...We never said our love was evergreen, or as unchanging as the sea.” He dropped his hand to his side and faced the audience. “But if you can remember, stop and think of me...” 

He opened his arms out and pleaded, “Think of all the things we’ve shared and seen.” He cast down his eyes and drew his hands back to his chest. He gently clutched the silk flowers that lined the edges of his coat. “ Don’t think about the way things might have been...”

Closing his eyes, his heart throbbed as he imagined himself being apart from the person he loved and having to push past missing them to move on. It wasn’t too much of a stretch since he had done it before, but then he thought about having to be apart from Kakashi. It tore open a new hole in his spirit at the thought of never seeing the man again and never having their secret talks- never hearing his laughter or insight once more.

He bowed his head slightly and closed his eyes tight to fight the tears that wanted to escape. Even if he knew it was just an imagination, there was a base for it in reality. He just never knew how much that fear existed until he took this role. 

“Think of me- think of me waking, silent and resigned...” In spite of his shaken heart, his voice still carried loud and clear, though soft as what he was saying was more for himself. 

He lifted his face and opened his wet eyes. “Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind.”

He moved his hands from his jacket to fold them in front of him as if he was praying. “Recall those days. Look back on all those times. Think of the things we’ll never do.” He then reached out with one hand, the other splaying against his heart again, imagining an image of Kakashi reaching back out to him from the crowd- so close but yet so far. “There will never be a day when I won’t think of you!” 

The sharp note carried into the air and intertwined with the crescendo of music before the audience applauded politely. Iruka ignored it though, and turned his head to the left to appear hurt.

Yet, breaking character a little, he peered through his lashes to the boxes- specifically Box 5.

Despite being busy, Iruka couldn’t escape the mill of gossip and rumors. Two days ago, as the old managers were going over some details with Hiruzen and Danzo, a welcome message from the ‘Opera Ghost’ was delivered. The two Alpha’s had thrown a fuss with the demands that came from the letter: a portion of the proceeds from the box office from each performance and that Box 5- the best seats in the house- be left empty. 

There was a lot of arguing between the old and new managers. In the end, Hiruzen and Danzo were not swayed by the demands, which the former managers disagreed with. The rumor going around by those that heard the disagreement was that listening to the Opera Ghost was part of the contract the new managers had signed.

Regardless if that part about the contract was true or not, the new managers had gone against one of the demands. They offered Box 5 to the new patrons at the Gala the next night (which thankfully Iruka didn’t have to attend).

It was just a tad disappointing since Iruka was looking forward to catching a hint of a white and red mask that so many performers spoke of seeing in the stark darkness of Box 5, even while being blinded by the stage lights. Instead, all he could see was the outline of people with nothing standing out. It would have been interesting to see who many mistook as to be Kakashi. But it couldn’t be the Alpha since more often than not the man was behind the curtain during performances. 

Still, his heart thumped at who might be sitting in the box now. It had been years since he last saw any of his relatives. Tsunade had kept his secret from the rest of the family, specifically his distant cousins from the Senju dukedom. The last time he had seen any of them before his parents died and he was taken in by the Sarutobi. So that begged the question of who was there now or if they would recognize him.

Rather than thinking about any of that, he pushed it to the back of his mind and refocused when he heard the music shift.

Placing both hands over his heart, he looked to the quieted audience with half-lidded eyes. “Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fad. They have their seasons, so do we.” 

Dropping his arms, he held his hands open and slightly away from his body. “But please promise me that sometimes, you will think...” The music died at the end, leaving nothing but silence.

Taking a silent deep breath, Iruka took the final part of the song. He started with a breathy ‘O’ in a melisma. As he released it all in one breath from his diaphragm, he pitched his vocals into higher and higher octaves. At reaching a certain point, he used the same breath to fluctuate his voice between the vibrato of piano and forte of the ‘O.’

When he dropped his voice for the last time, he went into a brief pause of silence to take in another breath. He then sharply belted out the end of the song in the loudest octave he could achieve as the orchestra suddenly jumped back in. “Of me!”

He carried the final not until it came to a natural end. When it faded away, the audience erupted into another round of applause. Iruka ignored it; instead, staring at the cave set-piece again with a heavy heart before he turned away to exit the stage. As the curtain fell, he was careful not to break his character’s strides but also not snag any of the silk flowers that filled his entire train. Even with the petticoat that was used as the skeleton to help keep the shape of the tail, he didn’t want to suffer the wrath of the costumers if the beautiful creation they had made in three days was ruined. 

The rest of the performance went by swifter than he imagined. It was if he blinked, and suddenly he was back out on stage to a roaring audience standing on their feet. Flowers were thrown at his feet as he held one side of his train and bowed. The audience continued to laud him even as the curtain closed for the final time for the performance. 

Then it was once again a blur as he made his way back to the private changing room he was given (much to his chagrin) amid others celebrating another successful performance. 

The rest of the night from here would be full of partying that would be followed by a day of recovering. It would then be back to business as they prepared for the next production.

Everyone crowded around him in congratulations, and Iruka was never more grateful for his friends as they acted as a barrier to keep him moving. So when they finally reached the changing room and Anko slammed the door, he took a deep breath before he collapsed on the velvet chaise sofa.

“Looks like our new Prima Donna isn’t used to his new fame,” Kotetsu cackled. 

Tiredly, Iruka pushed himself up. “For the last time,” he snipped while he stood up. “Not the ‘new Prima Donna.’” He sighed, rolling his neck. “I am sure they will get Madam Ootsutsuki back.”

“Not from what I heard~” Anko singsonged. “Monsuiers Sarutobi and Shimura are talking about making you permanent.”

Iruka frowned.

“Don’t blow it off,” Izumo encouraged. “This is a great opportunity for you!”

Kotetsu and Anko yelled in agreement.

“But I like my job as a stagehand,” Iruka protested. 

“But you love to sing,” Kotetsu pointed out as he leaned against the wall. He wagged a finger of Iruka with a smirk. “And don’t act like you didn’t enjoy these last few days.” 

Iruka pressed his lips together because he couldn’t deny that. All of his friends smirked expectantly, but he just rolled his eyes and refused to confirm it.

Turning away, Iruka set out to change. Only he paused to see a mannequin with a cream-colored full-skirted dress rather than his regular clothes he had left on a nearby chair. “What is this?” he muttered as he approached the outfit.

A note was pinned to the embroidered floral bodice. Gently, unpinning it, he read the message and frowned.

Distracted by his slowly rising annoyance at the message, he didn’t notice Anko coming up behind to read over his shoulder. 

“Ohhhh!” she laughed as she snatched it from his hand. 

Iruka made a noise of protest as he turned to grab it back. Only Anko flitted across the room while waving the letter. 

“Our new managers are presumptuous,” she cackled to a confused Kotetsu and Izumo. She held the note up and, with an over-exaggerated authoritative tone, read, “We hope to see you after the performance for a small gathering for a final farewell for your former employer. Your new humble managers.”

Kotetsu and Anko cackled while Izumo rolled his one visible eye. Yet Iruka could see how he pressed his lips together to hide a smile. 

“Wow,” Izumo hummed. “Sounds like they aren’t even giving you a choice.”

“Well...” Iruka struggled with the words to try and defend his past childhood friends as he searched for his clothes. “Madam Ootsutsuki probably did all sorts of small engagements after the productions. So maybe that is what they are expecting.”

“Still rather arrogant,” Izumo folded his arms over his chest with a frown. “They could have at least asked before.”

“So are you going to meet with the,” Anko flipped imaginary long hair over her shoulder, “‘better’ class?”

Iruka threw his hands up in the air with a frustrated sigh. “Maybe,” he huffed snappishly. “I can’t find any of my clothes!” 

“Well,” Izumo proposed soothingly while he walked over to Iruka, “why don’t you put on the dress, and then we can go get your clothes.”

Iruka frowned, but after thinking about it, nodded. “That’s a great idea.” He glanced at the dress wearily before he looked at the Beta again. “Will you help me?”

Izumo sighed with a chuckle while Anko and Kotetsu wolf-whistled good-naturedly. “Well, these two certainly won’t.”

Thanks to Izumo’s help, Iruka was in the new dress in no time, replacing the empty mannequin with the costume. Anko and Kotetsu were no help, as Izumo stated, but their snarking and bantering made Iruak feel normal. It was odd not to hear the rowdiness of the stagehands, the clanking of alcoholic bottles, and the smell of cigarette smoke all in confined spaces.

Once the last bit of lace tied up in the back, Iruka went over the vanity and began to clean off his makeup. The makeup artist had done a fantastic job in covering up the scar that ran horizontally across his face but it still felt unnatural and heavy to wear.

As he worked, he debated on keeping his hair down or putting it up in his usual ponytail when there was a knock on the door.

“The managers must be here for their new star,” Kotetsu teased as his partner went to the door.

Iruka just rolled his eyes and finished removing the last of his make up.

“Oh, hello!” a friendly, sonorous voice spoke when Izumo opened the door. “I was told this was the Prima Donna’s dressing room, is he in?”

Iruka turned to the door as a stiff Izumo replied, “Um, yes.” The Omega raised an eyebrow when the Beta stepped aside to let the person in.

When the new guest- a tall, tanned man with a full bouquet- stepped inside, Iruka was caught off guard when Kotetsu and Anko shot up from their seats. “Ah!” Anko greeted with a nervous smile. “Lord Senju, hello!”

Iruka’s heart stopped, and he quickly stood up to join his friends in welcoming one of their new patrons. He had heard of the patrons meeting with the stagehands but he hadn’t had the opportunity to greet them personally.

“Oh apologize,” the man chuckled when he peered around. “I hadn’t realized it would be such a full room.” 

When his dark eyes landed on Iruka, they lit up brightly and the grin the man wore widened.

Iruka grew nervous at the gesture but offered a polite smile in return. He was about to speak to welcome their new guest when Kotetsu cut in.

“Oh, no,” the Beta chuckled anxiously, “we were just about to leave.”

Iruka snapped to look at his friends. A dawning sense of horror overcame the Omega as Izumo and Anko agreed. Before he even realized what was happening, the three of them raced out of the room with quick goodbyes, slamming the door in their haste.

Iruka just stood in place, staring at the places his friends once were, before he dropped his face into his hands. He didn’t even bother to hide his frustrated anger as he groaned.

“Well, those three are interesting,” the man laughed.

Iruka raised his face to the man still standing near the door. The patron appeared quite bemused, gazing at the door before he looked to Iruka.

“They are... a handful,” Iruka agreed.

“Aren’t all the dearest friends?’ the man chuckled while he took his opportunity to approach.

Iruka’s jaw tensed, but he attempted to wear a polite smile.

“Your performance was phenomenal!” the man praised with a big grin. He stopped a courteous distance and held out the flowers. “I’m sorry that my fellow patrons couldn’t come to meet you as well. They got pulled away by Monsieur Shirma and Sarutobi, but I insisted on at least delivering the bouquet to your room.”

“Oh...” Iruka couldn’t find the right words but awkwardly took the gift. “Thank you.”

“The pleasure is mine.”

The man, an Alpha now that Iruka could smell his pheromones (Iruka had thought that was the case by the way he carried himself but he hadn’t wanted to presume), placed a hand over his chest. “I apologize we haven’t met until now,” he bowed, “I’m Lord Hashirama Senju.”

Iruka frowned slightly, the name niggling at the back of his mind. He studied the Alpha, but the long hair, tied back in a fashionably high ponytail, and handsome features weren’t something he recognized. 

Pushing the mystery to the back of his mind, he placed the bouquet on the vanity and curtsied. “My name is Iruka Umino.”

Due to being out of practice with his stature and in small heels, he wobbled. His face warmed and he quickly straightened. If Hashirama noticed, he didn’t make a comment or show he saw. 

“Nice to meet you,” Hashirama grinned.

But then his grin drooped, turning slightly awkward. “Ah,” he cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind, would it be acceptable if I ask you a question?”

Iruka gave a tight-lipped smile but his fist curled tightly into his skirt. He could practically see where this is going and had the rejection on the tip of his tongue.

Hashirama clasped his hands together. “Monsieur Saturobi mentioned his family took you in when you were younger,” he started gently, “and it made me wonder...” His tanned face grew darker across his cheeks. 

“Little Iru, Little Iru,” Hashirama spoke softly, hesitantly. “Oh, where did you go?”

Iruka completely froze, the breath knocked out of his lungs. The grip on his dress loosened while he stared at the other man.

“In the attic above,” the Alpha went on, voice growing stronger. “Or the basement below?”

As Iruka continued to gawk, he never in a million years thought he would ever hear his old childhood song.

Hashirama grinned. “Little Iru, Little Iru,” the Alpha went on, gaining an excited grin. “Oh, where did you go? Lost in the woods or in the fields that have been sowed?” He scooted closer but still kept a bit of distance.

Iruka’s eyes began to sting and he fought back the wetness that formed. He took a deep breath. 

Childhood memories of summers in a large mansion filled his mind, times before his parents passing. Children’s laughter echoing through the old halls of the Senju family home, the old smell that lingers from time and dusty books of the library, and evenings spent with family chasing fireflies in a humongous yard. 

“Little Iru, Little Iru, have the spirits take you away?” Hashirama’s voice took a teasing tone. One Iruka recalled that echoed in rooms as the Omega would hide in a game of hide-and-seek with his cousins. “Did they lull you in with your sweet songs?”

Iruka released a wet laugh, covering his mouth to hold back the coming sob. But he smiled behind his hand.

Hashirama’s look softened as he finished, “Oh, Little Iru, where have you gone?”

Another sobbing laugh and reached out with his other hand to grasp Hashirama’s gloved one. Proprietary was far from his mind.

“Hashi?” he asked tentatively.

The Alpha let out a booming laugh before he swept Iruka up in a crushing hug. The Omega responded in kind by throwing his arms around the taller man’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Little Iru!” Hashirama guffawed, lifting the Omega a little. 

When Iruka was back on the ground, Hashirama pulled back and grabbed the Omega by the elbows. His face was alight in pure jubilation as he laughed, “I knew it was you! Tobirama thought so too but wasn’t sure either.”

Iruka wiped away a few of his escaped tears. “Tobi is here too?” he giggled. “Are Ita and Kawa here as well?”

Hashirama’s brightness waned as he shook his head.

Iruka’s heart stopped, and his hands latched on his cousin desperately. Before he could voice any questions that overtook his mind, however, Hashirama shook his head again. “Both of them are fine,” he soothed. “They made it through the War.” 

He chuckled sheepishly. “Apologies. Just hard when your younger brothers aren’t in the country anymore.”

Iruka tilted his head to the side. “They’re not in Konoha?”

“No,” Hashirama grinned. “It’s a bit complicated with Itama’s situation, but Kawarama is in Suna now.”

The Alpha’s dark eyes went bright again. “We can explain it to you over dinner, perhaps? You can meet Madara and Izuna too! Do you remember them?”

Iruka frowned with only vague memories of those names. Mostly of Hashirama and Madara running around and causing headaches for Uncle Butsuma. 

When he switched to the first part of what his cousin had said, he pressed his lips together. While he certainly wanted to join his cousins for dinner, the past three days were settling in his bones.

“That is very kind...” he hesitated at the excited expectation Hashirama gained. He slightly wavered but when he thought about his bed, it reaffirmed his decision. “But perhaps a different day?” 

His cousin deflated. Iruka’s stomach twisted at the depressed expression. He almost changed his mind from it, but Hashirama nodded. “Tsunade did say that the new Prima Donna had been working hard with only taking the position three days before the performance,” he stated understandingly. He smirked. “Though she didn’t mention it was you,” he chuckled. “Probably wanted it to be a surprise.”

He then frowned when he looked down at Iruka’s dress. “But are you going somewhere still?” 

The Omega’s face grew warm. “Not exactly...” He explained the situation, and Hashirama threw his head back with a laugh.

“I see!” he snickered. “Well, I should leave you to rest. Maybe your friends will come back when they see I have gone.”

Iruka sighed in relief, but he resisted the urge that they were all probably spreading the news of Hashirama’s visit and getting drunk.

Hashirama chuckled again before he hugged Iruka once more.

“Get some well-deserved rest,” he playful ordered. “I’ll come and visit you again, and we can catch up on what has happened over the years at lunch tomorrow?” He squeezed Iruka’s hands. “And you must also tell us who taught you to sing!”

Iruka smiled and nodded with a chuckle. “An Angel of Music.” 

Hashirama gave him a slightly questioning look. “...As in the ‘Angel of Music’ from the bedtime tales when we were children?” the Alpha inquired.

“Yes, and no,” Iruka hummed with a chuckle, cheeks heating while he moved his head side to side. It was more to the joke that the stagehands had amongst themselves after Iruka had confessed in a drunken stupor but he could explain it more later. 

Hashirama shook his head with a grin. “Alright, keep your secrets,” he chuckled. “Until we have lunch!”

He then stepped back and bowed. “I’ll call tomorrow then.”

Iruka laughed and bowed, not wanting to embarrass himself again with an unrefined curtsy. “Until tomorrow.”

They hugged one last time before his cousin left. When the door clicked close, Iruka moved to the chaise again and collapsed on it. He groaned into the throw pillow. He knew his friends probably wouldn’t be returning, but it seemed silly to get his clothes in this dress. There was also the chance that he would run into someone and be dragged off somewhere.

“Well, that was interesting.”

Iruka gasped as he jerked upright. Responding with instinct, he took the pillow and threw it to the back of the room. It hit its target- Kakashi- who was halfway out of the full body mirror. 

“Damn it, Kakashi,” Iruka hissed. He sighed and placed a hand over his frantically beating heart. “Stop that.” He glared at the Alpha. “And why are you coming out from a mirror?” 

Kakashi kicked the throw pillow aside as he stepped in further. He cast a glance at the mirror and shrugged. “In my defense,” he started as he came to sit next to Iruka, leaving the mirror door slightly ajar, “that’s the only entrance into this room.”

Iruka scooted over to allow the Alpha to sit. He snorted, “The person that designed the Shingeki must have been a bit of a deviant, I swear.” He eyed Kakashi. “Don’t you start being like them.”

“Maa, maa,” the silver-haired man murmured. Feigning offense, he placed a hand over his chest. “Do you really think so poorly of me?” The accusation, however, lost its sting with the playful light in his eye.

Iruka snorted again. “I think anyone would think so if someone came out of a secret passage behind a mirror.” 

Kakashi merely hummed but nodded his head.

His adrenaline dying down, Iruka did his best to curl his legs under him in the dress as he rested his arm across the small back portion of the sofa. He used his fist to prop up his head and took a moment to study the fancier attire that Kakashi wore, though his mask was still the same.

“You look very nice,” Iruka complimented. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch the beautiful fabric. It was so tempting, a way to flirt without appearing so, but he decided he would be good. However, he could ogle at the man in secret. “Was there a special reason to dress up though?”

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “It was your debut performance.”

Iruka rolled his eyes. “Point taken.”

He leaned his head further against his arm. “Did you enjoy the performance?” The Omega expected a quick confirmation or rebuttal but was only greeted with silence.

Kakashi turned his face away. Iruka was thankful that the way they sat, he could still see the Alpha’s eye. The teasing light died away to be blank. Before Iruka could ask about it, however, Kakashi slowly announced, “I did enjoy it.”

He turned back to Iruka, dark eye hard and emotionless. “But...” he hesitated, “if I may know, what led you to the decision to become Prima Donna?”

Iruka’s face and chest suddenly became hot. “Why does everyone keep saying that?” he muttered waspishly with a frown. “This is a one-time thing!”

The hardness in Kakashi’s eyes softened. “Ah, I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “I was just hearing things and haven’t been able to talk to you properly...” He huffed, looking away, and folded his hands in his lap. “I suppose I just filled in the blanks.”

He chuckled sheepishly. “Of course you would want to help.”

Iruka took a deep breath, letting the warmth in his body cool. “Well, that is one reason,” he murmured.

Kakashi turned to look at him again, but Iruka couldn’t bear to meet the man in the eye. He turned away, suddenly finding the wall interesting. With a warm face, he began to play with his loose hair as he confessed, “I also- well, sort of- I guess- did it... for you?” 

He winced at his tone and quickly explained. “You have done so much with training my voice! And I...” His face burned. “I wanted others to see how much it meant. My performance was for you more than anything else.”

Silence filled the air. Iruka steadily refused to look at Kakashi. Yet as the silence extended, he shifted in his seat. The hand that was still in his lap twisted in the fabric of his skirt while his other played with his hair more.

Just when he thought he should just run out of the room to save himself, there was a gentle touch of a gloved hand on the one in his lap. He jumped and snapped his gaze to the other man, only for his breath to freeze.

The look in Kakashi’s eye was soft and warm. “You didn't have to,” the Alpha spoke gently.

Iruka swallowed to wet his throat. “I know,” he replied, voice equally soft. “But I wanted to show the world what you’ve given me.” He flipped his hand to clasp Kakashi’s tightly.

“I won’t tell anyone it was you,” he promised in a whisper. “But I want the world to see just how amazing you are.” His face began to burn again, but this time he resolutely met Kakashi’s gaze. “Even if it is just by showing everyone the voice you gave me.”

Kakashi gaped at him but didn’t speak. But after a moment, he grasped Iruka’s hand tighter and raised it.

Iruka swore his face would burst into flames when Kakashi flipped their hands and ‘kissed’ the back of the Omega’s hand where his mouth would be.

“You are an amazing person, Iruka,” Kakashi murmured when he pulled away. He stared at their conjoined hands for a few seconds before he lifted his face.

The softness from before now swirled together with something deeper- a mix of many emotions Iruka couldn’t all name- in the Alpha’s eye that left the Omega dizzy and breathless. “Any person,” Kakashi continued, “could see that. Even a man like my former commander.”

Iruka’s head spun. His heart pounded widely in his chest as he tried to think of something to say. 

But then his brain registered the last part of what Kakashi said. “‘Former commander?’” He frowned. It took him a moment longer to realize who the Alpha spoke of. “You mean Hashirama? My cousin?” 

Kakashi jerked back a little and blinked. Iruka pressed his lips together to stop from laughing at the confusion the other man conveyed.

He could see when things clicked into place for Kakashi. The Alpha then lowered his head, using his free hand to cover his eye. “Your cousin...”

Iruka snickered, and he swore Kakashi sunk lower in his seat. Shaking his head, Iruka used his free hand to cover their still conjoined hands. Rather than tease the Alpha on his mistake (one anyone could have made honestly), he spoke warmly, “You know, I think this is one of the first times I heard you mention your past since we’ve become friends.”

Kakashi froze and stiffened.

Undeterred, Iruka pushed on, heartbeat picking up. “I thought that something like battle scars covered your face,” he hummed, “give the mask.”

He looked down at their hands, smiling a little as he gave a short squeeze. “But it’s interesting to know you served in the military.” He giggled quietly when he looked up again. “And you even served under my cousin! What a small world!”

His smile widened. “I hope he treated you well.”

Kakashi didn’t say anything. After a second, Iruka’s stomach twisted, wondering maybe he had pushed too far, when the Alpha lifted his head. 

The Omega had to do a double-take at the questioning uncertainty in the man’s eye. Instead of being put off by it, Iruka continued to keep his soft smile in place as he squeezed Kakashi’s hand again.

A moment later, the look in the Alpha’s eyes softened. Sitting up straight, he confessed in a murmur, “He was one of the best I served under.”

Iruka chuckled, some of the unease realizing around his stomach. “Good, I would hate to be mad at my cousin if he wasn’t.”

He didn’t press for more beyond what he just learned. Iruka didn’t want to ruin their friendship over his desire to know. Besides, even if he did, he highly doubted that it would change his romantic feelings he had toward the man.

Despite trying to be assuring and noninvasive, Kakashi’s eye grew distant as if in thought. Before Iruka could ask what he was thinking, the Alpha suddenly stood.

In surprise, Iruka let go of his hand. Only to freeze when an open palm was presented to him.

Peering up at Kakashi, he could see the Alpha was smiling just by his one eye. "I'm sure you're hungry," the man stated. "Would you like to have dinner?"

Iruka's heart jumped before it pounded against his chest. He wondered if Kakashi could hear it. "D-dinner?"

"Why, yes," Kakashi chuckled. "Usually an activity where one partakes in cooked food for nourishment. Usually with one’s self or in a group." His eye went half-lidded with a mix of heavy emotions. "...Though in this case, it will just be the two of us."

Iruka swallowed around the lump that was threatening to form in his throat. “...that sounds almost like a... an... intimate engagement?” He nearly bit his tongue because he wanted to come off playful. 

He expected maybe a quip to let him know that he was looking into this too hard. Instead, Kakashi met his gaze, expression in his eye now slightly closed off. “...It can be,” he murmured, so soft Iruka could barely hear it. “...If that is what you want...”

Ears ringing, Iruka could feel a burst of hysterical laughter that wanted to escape. Fighting it down, he raised a shaky hand- not even hesitating on the choice. The tiredness he felt before now vanished in the wake of the chance of whatever was happening.

“T-that sounds,” Iruka breathed out, “ wonderful.” 

Kakashi’s eye widened briefly before it glowed.

Pulling him up, Iruka stumbled into Kakashi’s chest because, much to his embarrassment, his legs had fallen asleep. Face on fire, he looked up. Kakashi’s eye was full of laughter.

“Maa, maa,” he hummed. “How forward of you.”

Iruka snorted with an eye roll. “My legs fell asleep,” he grumbled. Only a second later, his breath froze when one of the Alpha’s hands fell on his waist.

Kakashi chuckled. “Would you like for me to carry you then?” he teased.

Iruka just punched him in the shoulder with a bit of force, but not enough to injure. It was satisfying to see Kakashi flinch despite the man continuing to chuckle. 

When Iruka found his footing again, he grabbed one of the cloaks that were hanging from a coat rake by the door.

Turning to Kakashi, the Alpha stood by the wide mirror door with an outstretched hand. And yet, even with his confident stance, the Omega could see the hesitation in his eye that he was trying to hide.

Iruka smiled and crossed the room with a pounding heart. With more confidence, he took Kakashi’s hand. He watched the Alpha’s eye widen again before it grew soft.

Kakashi then pulled him forward, leading the way. Iruka didn’t even look back when the door soundly closed.