Some days are just bad.
Some days just make you go over the edge. They make you question your sanity, or if the gods above got bored causing fires and floods and genocide and decided it would be more fun to bug you. Iruka was having one of those days.
It started with a bang. Well, more of a yowl. Iruka had screamed like a little girl, hop-jumped across the room until he ran into a wall, ripping and tearing at his head. When he finally dislodged the furry menace and threw it unceremoniously out the door, he regretted leaving the window open the previous night. A lesson learned. Alley cats are vicious when they're hungry.
Perhaps the rabid cat on his head helped him some. He had overslept.
And thus was propelled into a mad dash through the room, trying to find the things he had previously laid out for the morning's use, which, of course, had mysteriously and conveniently moved to a place probably under Iruka's nose, or in his thinking, somewhere about a half a mile from Los Calendres.
About ten minutes later, with only half the things he'd need for the day in his arms, Iruka had knocked open the door with his foot, one end of his headband clenched in his unbrushed teeth. He'd run around the corner, through the halls, to the stairwell,
And promptly tripped on a sleeping cat.
As Iruka plummeted headfirst down the wooden stairs, he reflected on a few things. Like how much it was going to hurt when he hit the brick wall at the bottom of the steps, and how much he hated cats. Somersaulting head over heels down the stairs, he regretted not pulling his shoes on fully, and not brushing his teeth. Of everything in the world, Iruka's one peeve was not brushing his teeth. He hated the way he felt every hunk of gunk that had commenced to party the night away on his teeth in the morning. The feeling was equivalent to inhaling pond slime through one's pie hole and gargling with it.
Eventually, Iruka hit the bottom of the stairs (and a few jounin, and one elderly lady, who had proceeded to whack him with her cane as a parting gift)
Figuring he'd only dislocated a few bones in his tumble-down plummet to earth, he struggled up to his now-only-one-shoe-clad feet. Rooftop travel was the only way to get there on time. But, of course, today being one of those days, he happened to make a death defying leap… onto a roof that was under construction. Falling is a terrible way to start out a terrible day, and Iruka was getting one hell-load of it today.
After digging himself out of a pile of drywall in the under-construction building, amazed construction workers looking on, he bounded out the door and towards the academy.
A few hit and near misses of elderly people later, he burst through the door.
If the students of Iruka's class were heartily disappointed, they sure showed it.
Iruka crashed behind his desk, spilling papers onto his desk. He turned to face twenty-seven pairs of eyes (I suck at math. How many is that all together?) all riveted on their teacher and the bits and pieces of plaster and drywall stuck to him.
Iruka noticed a foul smell had descended upon the room. He turned to face his class.
"Now…" he said, sitting down, trying to ignore snatching the large chunk of drywall off his butt, where it had decidedly fixed itself. He sat down. The classroom erupted in laughter, except for two boys, who were pissed for some other reason.
"NAAARRUUUTTOOOOOO!" Iruka yelled, throwing the deflated whoopee-cushion -and, interestingly enough, the drywall hunk- out the door and into the hall.

As you can well imagine, the rest of the day did not go well, either.
About ten, Iruka discovered the source of the foul odor. He'd been wrinkling his nose from time to time, wondering if one of his students had taken the opportunity before class to roll in a bucket of fish remains, or had stolen Gai's disgusting green suit and was wearing it. But he had discovered the source of the odor in the classroom.
"Excuse me, class." he said.
Very calmly, Iruka, stepped out the classroom door,
Calmly walked to the restroom,
Hurriedly ran out of the lady's room under the cries of several occupants of said loo,
Walked into the men's room, stood calmly at the sink, and, very, very, calmly Screamed "THE FUCKIN' CAT PISSED ON ME"
At that point, one of the stalls swung open to reveal a rather shocked Kakashi, who'd been sitting on one of the chamber pots (with his pants on, perverts.) reading Icha-Icha Paradise, so no one would know he was skipping out on his "ninja duties.
Iruka remained stoic as Kakashi hid a snort under his mask. He remained even more stoic when Kakashi walked out the door of the lavatory and collapsed on the other side of the wall, doubled over in gut-wrenching guffaws.
It was official.
Iruka was slightly miffed.
And his teeth felt like they were covered in the bottom of a bowl of soggy shredded wheat

At noon, Iruka's stomach and his mouth decided to see who could out yell and gurgle the other. Currently, his stomach was winning, gurgling up a storm. Heck, it was screaming bloody murder. But his mouth was catching up.
In an effort to further punish him, the gods had made today -gulp- "Shruiken Practice Day.
A few missed his head. A few. The gods were merciful. Several other embedded themselves in his lower extremities, and one, most painful in a bit, erm, "lower extremity.
All hope of another generation of Umino's up in smoke, Iruka continued to lecture his students on proper jutsu techniques, until he noticed no one was listening.
He thought someone had noticed the uremic acid seeping into his hair, but the steady stares in his direction told him otherwise.
That, and there was a breeze.
How one fails to notice one's pants are down at one's ankles is beyond comprehension.
Iruka once again had to excuse himself to hoist his trousers up again. Mizuki had given him a strange look when Iruka stumbled into the men's room holding his pants in one hand. The same shruiken that had eliminated Iruka's chances of becoming a father had sliced the drawstring of his pants. So, guess what? His pants were unusable.
He, of course, had forgotten a spare pair of knickers in his mad dash out the door (and down the stairs and through the drywall…) which he could have remembered, had he not been awakened by a certain shorthair who was never scrounging a bit of tuna from Iruka again, he promised himself. Iruka ended up going back to the classroom with one hand suspending his trousers, lest anyone discover he wore, -le gasp- plaid boxers.
When he got back to the room, the students were still laughing, except for Sasuke and Shino, who were being their usual selves (i.e. pissed off.) And his teeth still felt "yucky".

Around one, Iruka's class had been interrupted by loud noises from outside. Iruka had had to open the window and belt out that if Gai-sensei wanted to live to reach the "Summer of his Youth", he'd shut the hell up while Iruka was trying to teach.
The rest of the day went, as one would suspect, like a day from the cesspools of H-E-double hockey stick. Animalistic students, uncooperative students, and one Uzamaki Naruto made this a day he would certainly tell his grandchildren, had Naruto's misfired shruiken not sliced his family jewels off. Every student had apparently been filled with glucose in a rival village's plot to infiltrate Konaha's defenses. By the end of the day, he'd given detentions to half of the class. But, he realized, he would have to sit through those detentions, further punishing himself.
Iruka's stomach had been singing the Beatle's Greatest Hits all morning, and had recently moved from The Beatles to Celine Dion, to it's current state of the Pavarotti.
He had to get something to eat. Not only was he hungry, but his usual morning cup of coffee, which he missed this hectic morning, always provided him with a blessed, blessed dose of caffeine that he needed right about now.
He needed food. But no one just handed out food to a poor, hapless, nearly-trouser-less ninja on the street. He had to get it somewhere.
He would conduct himself with grace, poise, and posterity.
"PLEEEEASE, NARUTO!" "Hmm, I don't know, sensei…" Naruto said, a foolish smile teasing his lips.
"Not without something in return"
Iruka sweat dropped. He'd been reduced to begging food off his students.
Naruto's fingers grazed his teacher's headband. "I'd sure love to wear a Leaf headband"
"Done." Iruka said, shoving the headband into Naruto's hand and taking the cup of Ramen noodles from the other. Oh, who knew sodium-in-a-cup could taste so good? The only problem now was his headband was gone. Iruka was reminded of why he celebrated when he became a genin and was able to wear his headband. Like his fathers before him, he was cursed with uncut table bangs that always seemed out to poke him in the eyes at every possible opportunity.
So, for the rest of the day, Iruka was shoving hair out of his eyes with one hand, holding his infernal chinos in place at his hips. After a (lengthy) detention session, Iruka was forced to grade the day's test papers. All the papers were either written by:

A) A bunch of monkeys at typewriters

B) A ninja being stabbed in the side

C) A dyslexic attempting to recreate Fordyce's Sermons

At length, he threw the papers into the air like so much confetti and stormed out the door.
He marched out the door with a stiffness that belayed his sore back.
He passed angry elderly people, laughing genin, equally amused jounin listening to Kakashi's retelling of Iruka's "temper tantrum". Right about then, Iruka would have like to have some "fun" with Kakashi, involving a few chainsaws, but he was too tired.
Iruka decided promptly to go home. Normally, Kakashi would have seen him in such a state and invited him to get drunk off his ninja ass, but the Copy Nin was no where to be seen. "Good." Iruka scowled. He really didn't want to see Mr. Porn-reading-I-think-I'm-so-great-because-I-killed-my-best-friend-by-screwing-around-on-a-mission-and-he-coughed-up-a-sharingan-eye-for-me-dog-smelling-egotistical-smartass…. The list went on.
Iruka simply tightened the furrows on his face and walked home. Stomped, actually.
Thought Iruka's bad luck was over? Guess again.
Turned out Naruto had been screwing about the livestock fences. Turns out Naruto decided to "liberate" Mr. Miozaki's angry long horn bull, who was being sold to the slaughterhouse the next day because he was so stupid and incompliant and angry.
Iruka was stomping along, unhappily, when he heard screams coming from down the street. He figured perhaps someone was carrying a large, spiny, cactus. That was why the crowd cleared.
Iruka was so wrong.
He screamed much the same as when the kitten decided to use his head as a litter box that morning. He took off down the streets that had magically cleared of people. People were scrambling up walls, climbing through windows, hanging by street signs. A few were even hanging onto the feet of the people hanging from signs.
Iruka ran as fast as he could, given his lack of energy. The bull was lowing behind him, horn itching for a taste of Iruka-rear. Iruka screeched again. He wished he'd listened when he'd lectured on teleportation. For the life of him, he couldn't remember how to make himself appear somewhere else.
Around and around they went, in circles around the town. Iruka couldn't stop to run through a door, since they were all closed by panicking villagers. If he stopped to try one and it wasn't… Iruka would have the dis-pleasure of a horn in his butt.
So around and around they went. About the third time around, people realized that watching Iruka was becoming amusing. By the fifth time they circled the square )
People began placing bets on who was going to win, Iruka being gored, or the bull dying of exhaustion. And when Iruka circled around the eighth time, hawkers were selling genuine "Iruka souvenirs". People were cheering, chanting his name. Many of them cheered when the bull took a stab at Iruka's rear, but continued waving flags and what not.
"I cannot believe this…" was all Iruka could think as he (why didn't he think of this before? Duh-duh-duuuuuh!) and veered off the path down a dirt road.
The bull was still behind him, but they were both tiring.
A farmer, standing on an about five foot fence, happened to see the ninja running like his ass was on fire (or in extreme jeopardy). He yelled for Iruka to "jump over the fence.
Iruka took the chance.
Normally, ninjas can jump pretty high. But Iruka's chakra was practically drained from his "morning run" and his "minotaur taunting". He sailed over the fence…
And landed halfway across the top rail.
This left him draped over the top rail as one angry bull ran straight forward blindly into the fence, head bared, horns, erm, pointy.

"You might as well have painted a target on your butt." Shizune teased.
"Har-har." Iruka said, not finding humor in this at all.
Not only did he have to drop his pants for them to pull little chunks of keratin out of his rear-end, but Tsunade had decided to take a picture of her "funniest case this year.
Which, by his calculations, might make it into the school newspaper this week by some child determined to blackmail his teacher or Mizuki or some vengeful ninja bent on making Iruka's life a living hell.
He limped out of the hospital and down the street. His rear end HURT. I mean, really hurt. He tried his best to clench his teeth, and wondered if the vein throbbing in his head was going to explode from pulsing.
He finally stopped walking. A "Run, Iruka Run!" banner lay discarded on the ground.
He looked up to the sky and yelled. "IS THERE SOMETHING YOU'RE TRYING TO TELL ME"
Instantly, a bolt of lightning cracked against the sky. A lone raindrop pelted Iruka in the eye. He just stood there, arms at his side as raindrops the size of baseballs poured down onto his head, soaking him dribbling down his collar, down his back, stopping where his boxers met his back, thoroughly soaking him from the inside out.
"Great." he said. "Just great,", wet bangs plastered to his face.
Another bolt of lightning flashed. Thunder cracked. Iruka started walking home.

When Iruka got back, he was soaked. It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of water over his head. He sloshed across the floor, leaving wet footprints the size of rhinoceros tracks on the faded blue carpet. Once dry, he looked out the window. Golf ball sized hail were beginning to fall outside, making hairline fractures in the glass. He sighed, and fell backwards on his bed. He closed his eyes. "Today… just.. Sucked…" he muttered to himself. Oh, it was so good to be home.
And that's when the springs broke.
Iruka didn't scream. He didn't beat the already-beat-up mattress into a pulp.
He just covered his face and tried to go to sleep.

One can well imagine what woke Iruka up at approximately midnight.
It was cold, wet. And dripping rhythmically onto his face.
Iruka stirred slightly. "Mm, sure. I love tuna." he muttered.
That's when he opened his eyes. Only to have water splash into it.
A leak. There was a leak in the ceiling.
It had been dripping onto Iruka's face for hours. The sheets were soaked with water. Heck with "A" leak. The entire floor was about flooded with a half an inch of water from various holes in the ceiling.
Iruka just sat in his bed, water dripping onto his head, rhythmically pounding against his skull. He just stared at the wall, eye twitching uncontrollably.
Iruka's blood-curdling scream woke nearly half the village, and I have it on good authority that Kabuto over in Sound heard it.
Iruka collected chakra on his feet and jumped onto the ceiling. He pounded at the ceiling with his fists, chakra crackling as beat the unforgiving plaster, screaming all his frustration. The dark blue energy fizzed and crackled in his hands.
i"Today was just… it wasn't bad… It was evil!…It was… STUPID!"/i

Kakashi was walking home. His face, as usual, was buried in the latest "Icha Icha" novel.
He had just turned the corner when a yell issued from around the corner. Kakashi sped up and ran to the source of the noise.
"Oh." he sighed joyfully, turning back to Icha Icha. Iruka was just trying to kill the ceiling. Kakashi could see it through the window, the normally calm sensei stuck to the leaking roof, pounding out all his anger. He could do that, Kakashi thought.
After all, plaster posed no immediate threat to him.