None of my stories have been updated in some time because our comcast modem thingy is broken. We ordered one weeks ago. It's still not here. So, I have no internet. This is being posted from my phone's personal hotspot. I'm posting this because drabbles can have plotholes and be unresearched; my multi chapters can not. Those need internet (plus, uploading such large fics on just personal hotspot is very expensive). Those fics are NOT dormant, and WILL be finished- just when I get internet.
Anyway, about this here. It will be ten chapters, ten themes per chapter. Warnings will vary and be posted as author's notes. For this chapter, themes seven and nine, "Eternity" and "Death", the warnings are character death (but, well, with a happy ending). Those two are also companion pieces.
1. Introduction
Iruka woke up in the hospital with a stinging in his head and a heavy ache in his heart.
The window was smashed, covered with a thick piece of coarse fabric now to somewhat protect the patients inside from the acrid fumes still floating along the outside air. It really did nothing to disguise the smell, the horrid scent of burning flesh and death that even he could recognize, and he wasn't so sure he appreciated the attempt, either. It just made the dark hospital room all the more depressing.
He had never felt smaller, alone in that big white bed with a needle in his wrist and some weird machine tethered to his other broken arm. He pulled his legs up to his chest, staring down at the great white sea of blanket before him, and looked around the room with nervous eyes, teeth gnawing into his lip.
He had never been in a hospital room before, but he knew what they were, and figured this was a normal one. Aside from the beige cover over the window instead of glass, anyway. The stench of bleach was overpowering, and he reached down to pull up the low collar of his gown over his nose, shuddering at the harsh smell.
He remembered the monster fox… he remembered everything being on fire, burning and collapsing into nothing more than piles of ash, and shuddered at the harsh burning heat he could still feel crawling all over his skin. But he was in Konoha Hospital, right? Konoha was still okay, right?!
Iruka's eyes danced around nervously until they alighted on the thin paper bracelet around his wrist. Umino Iruka, it read, patient ID: 20963, Konoha Hospital.
Good, he thought fervently, chest trembling with a heavy sigh of relief. Konoha was okay.
He didn't really know why he was here, how he'd been hurt. Probably all that fire, he guessed. Fire wasn't good; even his mother the fire user taught him that fire was dangerous.
His mother…
He remembered his parents…
What had happened to them? They- they- he'd heard that the front lines had fallen, and that was where his parents had been. He'd tried to find them, but then gotten lost, because everybody was bigger than him and running around and screaming, and he hadn't been able to find his home or the school or anything, because it was all burning, and then some stupid guy in a white animal mask had grabbed him and pulled him away and then, there'd been this horrifically loud splintering sound, and something was falling, crashing down on top of him and-
I have to find them! Iruka tossed the blankets back off himself in a determined frenzy. He'd never found his parents. But they could still be fine- just not here, just not here where he could see them and hug them and make them promise promise promise never to leave him again.
He was just about to stand when the door to the room creaked open, and he whipped about to face it.
He couldn't deny that despondent fear and crushing disappointment that seized his heart when he saw that it wasn't his parents, but a nurse.
The slight, harried looking woman opened the door wide before turning back to the hallway, pulling the head of another bed into his room. Iruka stared with wide eyes as another patient was wheeled inside, and another nurse closed the door behind them.
He looked small, Iruka noted. That was the most striking thing about him- how small he was. Iruka then figured he must look the same, the huge bed dwarfing him in a sea of white, but it was still strange to see it in another. He looked like he was asleep, left eye bandaged over while the other was closed, half obscured by a shock of surprisingly silver hair. The lower half of his face was taken over by bandages and bloodied gauze, as well, and Iruka felt a stab of sympathy when he saw the other boy was attached to even more machinery than him.
He didn't recognize him. Probably a civilian, he decided, biting his lip as he looked from the sleeping patient to the nurses, deciding to be disinterested in the other boy. Maybe one of the nurses would be able to help him find his parents? Because he had to find them soon. They were supposed to be here with him, he thought stubbornly. They were supposed to be here.
The boy he thought to be unconscious startled him by letting out a little moan, shifting restlessly in bed. Iruka heard some kind of half mumble, half squeak- if it was supposed to be words, he couldn't make it out, but the nurse apparently could, because she smiled down at him kindly and spoke. "We're just transferring you from ICU to a regular room, Hatake-san. Sorry for the rush; as I'm sure you can imagine, ICU beds are a bit in high demand right now."
The boy muttered something else and turned his head away, and Iruka decided he couldn't care less about him. He still had to find his parents, and that was a dozen times more important than some other kid he didn't even know.
His attempt to stand attracted the nurse's attention, a bit unfortunately, he thought, because she turned to smile very brightly at him and left the other boy's side immediately. "Oh, Iruka-kun!"
Even in his current state of mind, the sulky brat part of him couldn't help but think why does HE get to be Hatake-san, and I'm still Iruka-kun? He's not that much older than me. I'm not a little kid! But Iruka had much better things to do then complain about something so inconsequential, and besides, his parents had taught him that talking to strangers like that was very rude.
Speaking of which…
"Where are my parents?"
He repeated the question, snapping a little this time when the nurse's initial reaction had been nothing more than her face falling sadly, smile fading into a sympathetic frown. He didn't want her sympathy, he didn't want her looking at him like that, he just wanted his parents."
"Where are they?!" he asked, a little desperate now, craning his neck to peer around like the room like they were hiding beneath the bed or in the closet. "They should be here!"
"Ah, Iruka-kun… it's… well-"
"Why aren't they here?!" he cried frantically. He turned his attention back to the nurse, trying to make her answer him. He pounded his good hand against he mattress in frustration and she just bit her lip, looking down at him like he was some kind of child to be pitied. "Well?! Answer me!"
"Ah… they're in a better place now, Iruka. …I'm really sorry, t-they can't come visit you anymore, but- but they're in a better place now."
Iruka wasn't a five year old civilian. He was eleven, training to be a ninja, and didn't need any silly euphemisms for death. He knew what in a better place meant.
He wondered vaguely why he wasn't crying. He should be.
Kaa-san… Tou-san…
...
That night, he did cry.
He was lying down, tossing and turning, trying and failing so miserably to sleep. He couldn't, because he couldn't see light coming out from underneath the door, from where his father was still up late working. And he realized he would never see that light again, because he would never see his father again.
He broke, then.
Iruka let out all of three sobs into his pillow before a harsh, bitter, strained voice spoke, interrupting the outpouring of grief in a cruel, mocking tone that made him only want to cry harder.
"Be quiet, will you? I'm trying to sleep."
Iruka twisted over in disbelief and fury, staring at the turned back of the still nameless boy in the room with him. The comment was so out of place he didn't have the slightest idea what to say. He felt his cheeks heat up with the slightest embarrassment at being caught crying- but he shouldn't be embarrassed about this, right? Just because he was a ninja-in-training… just because he was a boy… that didn't mean he shouldn't cry about this, right? Right?
"What's wrong with you?" he managed, voice coming out more weak and less fiery than he wanted.' "I- I just lost my pa-!" His voice broke on the word, cracking and shattering into a thousand pieces, and the silver-haired boy didn't even react.
A gentle breeze gusted into the room, tossing the faded blanket-curtains away from the window and carrying with the scent of the ruined village. The other boy let a low groan out, muttered something, and pulled the blanket up high so he could bury his nose in the itchy warmth. Iruka felt a perverse sense of pleasure at his discomfort, but only just; he was far too upset to care much about taking his sadistic revenge now.
When the other boy still didn't deign to even give him a response, Iruka turned back over onto his side, gave one extra particularly loud sniffle just to spite him, and then fell silent.
He may have cried himself to sleep that night still, but without making a single sound the whole time.
The next morning, Iruka was awoken by the sound of a low, pained curse and a stumble. He opened his eyes and was blessed of just the briefest of seconds of not understanding why his parents were there with him before he remembered, and even as his face fell again, his eyes went to the odd, insulting silver-haired boy who had mocked him last night.
He was painfully making his way across the hospital room, one hand gripping his side tight while his steps were slow but steady. Now that he was standing up, Iruka could see the injury that was likely responsible for his hospitalization- some sort of puncture in his chest, the thick, bulky bandages peeking out over his hospital gown. Iruka suddenly felt a little silly, with his own broken arm and silly little cough from smoke inhalation, of all things, but such feeling were washed away as he watched the child dispose of the cloth covering the shattered remains of the window in an instant before climbing onto the sill.
"Hey! What are you doing?!" he cried, sitting upright to stare at him in confusion. The boy looked like he was about to jump out of the window.
The other glanced over his shoulder at him, lone black eye cold with careless indifference and dislike. He seemed to be unsure of how he wanted to reply for a short moment, then snapped back, "None of your business."
Iruka threw himself out of bed when the boy leaned back, as if preparing to jump straight outside, and the movement did attract his attention again. "I'm leaving," the boy hissed. "Now stop looking at me."
Iruka blinked in confusion. Leaving? he wondered. But… how…? "I thought you couldn't just leave," he blurted, stopping the other once again. "Don't you- you need a doctor's permission or something?"
The boy just sneered in distaste and turned away once more.
"Wait!" Iruka tried again, reaching out helplessly. "I- you're hurt! It's not safe for you to just-"
The rest of his words were spoken to an empty room, because with one sarcastic roll of his eye, the child had jumped out and left him alone.
The next time Iruka saw the strange child, he was once again being rolled into the room on a gurney. The bandages on his chest were bloody, now, and the nurse moving him was shaking her head in exasperation. Unlike last time, he seemed to be well and truly unconscious as he was transferred back into bed, and Iruka watched, feeling a bit lonely and left out until the nurse turned back to him and smiled. "Ne, Iruka-kun, please make sure Hatake-san stays put this time?"
Iruka blinked, nodded numbly, then glowered down at his blanket. I'm not his keeper. No!
The nurse was long gone before he had worked up the will and energy to say something like that, though, and he found himself staring back at the other boy and rapidly losing the motivation to do anything but roll over and sleep for a million years. That annoying boy- making fun for crying when his parents had just- and then just walking out the window like some pretentious brat, causing him trouble like this-
Iruka huffed audibly and turned away, crossing his arms and staring at the opposite wall. Annoying kid.
The next hour passed in one long silent rehearsal for just what Iruka was going to say to the annoying kid when he finally woke up again. He deserved the worst tongue lashing ever, Iruka thought, but he wasn't all that good at giving them. And most of his irritation was still derived from what had happened last night, anyway- which was perfectly fine with him, but he couldn't exactly scream at the other boy about that when he still felt his stomach twist anxiously at the idea of someone catching crying like that.
And having the gall to call me OUT ON IT…
Therefore, the moment his attention was attracted by a little mumble from the other bed in the room, a slight shifting that was more than the other just turning in his sleep, Iruka turned towards him with an almost triumphantly expectant smirk. The other child blinked his eye open, the other still bandaged, and it wandered warily around the room before he let out a quiet sigh.
"Here, again…"
The still exhausted voice wasn't quite like water to the fire of Iruka's excitement, but it did put a damper on his vengeful spirits as he nodded shortly. "Yes. Here, again." He barely resisted the urge for an I told you so and continued on with his berating. "And, now, I somehow ended up being told to watch you to make sure you don't do it again."
The other blinked once, slowly, as if processing the news, before his eye narrowed in annoyance and focused up on Iruka. "I don't need a babysitter. …Especially not one who's younger than me."
"Well, you don't seem to be taking care of yourself well at all while I'm doing just fine!" he shot back.
The other boy eyed him for a moment in bland indifference, then just shook his head and turned away again.
Iruka glared at his back. This wasn't going well. He wanted to aggravate the other, annoy him- not have him just roll his eyes and look away! "Hey! I'm talking to you!" he called, to no avail. Frustrated, he continued on. "Where are your parents, anyway? How come they're not here to look after you?"
A subtle line of tension emerged in the other, visible only through his shoulders tightening and the slight sound of his breathing hitching for the briefest of instants. Iruka stared at him in confusion for a brief second, then realized.
Maybe, his parents… like mine…
He couldn't quite find it in him to be apologetic, but his anger did drain away in favor of a wary kind of curiosity. He paused, cleared his throat, then found himself looking down at the bed, unable to watch the other as he asked his next question.
"…Did they die? In the- the Kyuubi attack?"
His voice came out even quieter and worried than he meant it, and he took a second to berate himself for trying to be nice to this annoying, mean boy before he made his mind shut up and waited for a response.
Iruka was left in suspense for a while after that. The other lay so completely still he had to wander if he'd fallen asleep, after the first minute or so, and he'd all but given up on getting any kind of answer but a snore when he heard the rustle of blankets indicating the other boy had rolled to face him again.
With all but a quarter of his face covered, he had no idea how he could tell, but the others features appeared dominated by indecisiveness and uncertainty. It almost appeared as if he were fighting with himself- whether or not to answer, Iruka imagined.
When he finally did, his voice was soft, eye downcast, entire demeanor slumped in cold, shaking refusal to even look at Iruka again.
"Yes."
Now, was that so hard seemed a little inappropriate at the moment.
"…Mine, too," Iruka found himself saying, and his voice wavered only a little in the allusion to his parents' deaths.
His roommate raised his eye to stare at him, grey pupil wide in some unreadable form of emotion. Iruka held his gaze without saying anything, waiting for him to make the next move.
The next moment, the other turned his back roughly and headed towards the bathroom attached to the room. He slammed the door behind him, and Iruka heard the lock clicking into place, and, a moment later, the sound of the shower turning on.
Iruka stared at the closed door after him, then just sighed.
When the other emerged such a long time later Iruka was beginning to wonder just what on earth he was doing, his hair was dry, his clothes weren't damp, and his bandages showed no sign of ever getting near water. Only his cheek was wet, and his eye was rimmed in red.
Iruka's mouth dropped open in slight surprise, and when the other just climbed back into bed and turned away from him again, he snapped it shut.
The idea of calling him a hypocrite for crying when he'd made fun of Iruka for doing the same seemed unspeakably wrong, now. Iruka hesitated, his eyes on his roommate, and then he realized.
Izumo and Kotetsu both had come to visit him yesterday, after the other boy had jumped out the window, yet before he'd been returned. No one had come to visit his roommate.
Maybe he just needed a friend.
"I'm Iruka," he said on impulse. Tried a little smile, even if it was aimed at the other's back.
It was still and quiet.
But then, finally, Iruka watched as his roommate slowly shifted onto his other side once more, so they were face to face, and his grey eye darted up to meet his.
"…Kakashi."
2. Complicated
What Kakashi and Iruka's relationship was classified as was... complicated.
For one, homosexual relationships were illegal in Konoha. Actually, 'sharing any carnal actions and/or activities with a member of the same sex' was illegal. Punishable by a pay cut, public whipping, and demotion.
Of course, the archaic rule was primarily ignored now, and breaches of it were practically flaunted by more than one high-ranking ninja in Konoha's population. The council had more important things to do than write outdated laws out of Konoha's constitution, especially when it was nothing more than a formality, and so it stayed officially on record.
When a council member, however, who was- well, just pissed off at the Copy-nin burst into Kakashi and Iruka's bedroom, though, having dragged out the ancient rule with the intent of beating the jounin over the head with it, he was met with a furious Iruka and a strikingly feminine Kakashi. Who wasted no time showing off the parts of him that Iruka had previously been enjoy until even the elder looked as if he were about to die of embarrassment.
(Let it be known that the council never strictly defined what exactly constituted a member of the opposite sex).
It seemed that Naruto's Sexy-no-jutsu had more purposes than previously thought.
And now, because the still very embarrassed council member had it out for them, when asked, Kakashi and Iruka were two men who held hands and hugged in public and only ever kissed and/or engaged in intercourse with each other in the privacy of their own home with one or the other appearing to be in the female form, unless they were on their annual vacation in Suna, in which case, the only feminine thing about them was Kakashi's screams.
3. Making History
Kakashi and Iruka knew the other's past the moment they first met in the mission's room.
Iruka had grown up with the stories of the famous Copy nin, of the fearsome child promoted to jounin before they'd even earned their headbands, who'd harvested a Sharingan from his dead teammate, watched his father kill himself, and was the student of the Yellow Flash. He taught the subject of the White Fang in his classes, and of course the Yondaime and his prodigy student was always a topic popular in the curriculum. The Battle of Kannabi Bridge and the Two Heroes of the Sharingan often elicited many oohs and awws from his class, and while the subject of Rin's death was something a bit too classified for pre-genin's ears, with his special jounin level security clearance, he was privy to the information.
Kakashi, meanwhile- well, Iruka's life wasn't exactly one for the history books, but the jounin knew it all the same. One couldn't possibly stand in front of a massive grave every morning for thirteen years and not come to know every name on it. It didn't take a genius to equate Umino Taji and Umino Kyomo with Umino Iruka, and Kakahsi was one. As Minato's last surviving student, he also took a particular interest in Naruto's education, and pursued his teacher's file with interest before deciding the chuunin was suitable to deal with someone both as affection-starved and brat-like as Naruto.
Knowing of the history of the other led to them both creating their own perceptions and assumptions long before they actually met. Iruka thought Kakashi would be- well, like the legendary jounin he was. A little pompous and arrogant, a killing machine, a man who had no time to spare for chuunins like him, and was cold, hard, cruelly efficient and distant from the rest of the populace that was far beneath his genius skills.
Kakashi, on the other hand, thought of Iruka as a soft, miserably gentle teacher, tolerating Naruto by letting the kid walk all over him, along with the rest of his class. The kind of mildly annoying ninja that liked to chatter on and on about how they had suffered oh so much when they were kids, and that gave them the excuse to act however they wanted and really just moped, whined, and complained about everything.
Iruka thought Kakashi would annoy him, and Kakashi thought Iruka would annoy the living hell out of him.
Kakashi had made history all of his life, and then, Iruka did the same, being the first to stun the jounin into silence by flying off into a rant about how reading his filthy trash in front of Naruto was hideously inappropriate, and he needed to shape up a write a decent mission report before he passed on such horribly irresponsible habits to his student, and would it kill him to show up less than three hours late for once in his life?
Kakashi's assumptions were changed in the blink of an eye. Pleasantly so.
And when Kakashi stared, blinked, then smiled and said, "Maa, Sensei, but if I showed up one time once, people would expect me to do it all the time!", Iruka's expectations were defeated as well.
Not quite as pleasantly as Kakashi's, but pleasantly enough.
4. Rivalry
"Yosh! After the agreed time limit of seven days, we have met upon the preordained location in order to see who has achieved the challenge of finding true love! I have waited four and a half hours for your arrival, my eternal rival, and now it is time for us to see the winner of this challenge!"
Kakashi hmmed, alternatively looking from his book to the spandex-clad annoyance before him. He wondered idly how long Gai would drag this out for, because this was really going to be a bit embarrassing for him… never mind once word about it got out around the village…
Goodbye, reputation, he mourned miserably.
He let his eye wander up out of the text in his hand to focus on Gai again. The man stood proudly and expectantly in front of him, and Kakashi knew, just knew from the look on his face that Gai had somehow managed to track someone down that would ensure him a win. Well, technically speaking, anything or anyone would do, since Kakashi hadn't bothered to even participate in this challenge.
"First, I shall bring out what I have accomplished in this past week!" Gai turned and jumped for the shade of a tree, where- Anko? Yes, Anko- was fast asleep against the trunk, hands laced over her stomach and her mouth open, a trail of drool drawling out across her chin. "Anko!" Gai screamed, prompting the snake mistress to awaken with a colorful burst of language that would make a sailor blush, numerous sharp objects making their way towards Gai that the man dodged with ease before yanking her bodily to her feet and hauling her over to Kakashi.
"My eternal rival, I present to you Anko!"
Kakashi stared.
Anke grinned wolfishly back, quite unabashedly, and he had to wonder if Gai had made an error in judgement.
"Ah… Gai…" he coughed uncertainly, rubbing the side of his neck uncomfortably. "You are aware that the contest was to find true love. Not a willing sexual deviant for a fuck buddy."
Anko had the grace to look- well, guilty as charged- while Gai let out an exaggerated gasp, features twisting into disbelief. "Why, Kakashi! What Anko and I have together is far more precious than a simple arrangement of the expression of physical energies together in a manner most lecherous! We've been on three dates!"
Kakashi stared at the man for a second, then back at Anko. With a sigh, he regretfully shut his book with a snap and bent his finger, gesturing for Anko to join him.
"Genma put you up to this?" he murmured into her ear, once she'd crossed the short space between them.
She shook her head. "No, Ebisu. He bet me a month's worth of snake food that I wouldn't be able to put up with dating Gai for a week."
"Ah." Kakashi paused, weighing his options, then let out a world weary sigh. "Just promise to let him down gently, and I'll keep my mouth shut."
Anko winked before sauntering back up to Gai. She hooked her arm around his affectionately, and the man beamed as he turned back to his rival.
"So, Kakashi! Where is your accomplishment for the week?"
Kakashi paused. He sent out another mental farewell to his reputation, closed his eye in preparation for the humiliation, and then…
"Maa, sorry, Gai. But I'm afraid I was unable to get a date this week. You win."
It was a considerable period of time later- Kakashi watched the sun fall from midday until it was setting- until Gai's victory posing finally ceased. His ears were still ringing from the shouting, he was absolutely drenched from the crashing waves and pouring waterfalls Gai had summoned up so as to place his poses on a dramatic set, and the ground was scattered with numerous white dove feathers from all the birds that had practically sprouted right up out of the ground to fly around him as he announced his victory to the skies.
Honestly, some day, Kakashi would figure out just how Gai was summing doves and waterfalls from literally nowhere.
It was then, though, once he had finally been left alone, that the figure he'd sensed all along emerged from the border of trees, approaching him with the soft smile that he loved and a look in his eyes that Kakashi knew could only lead to good, good things. He put his book back in his weapon's pouch and smiled back, absently sticking his hands in his pockets while he waited for the chuunin to approach.
"You didn't have to do that, you know," Iruka told him once he was close enough to touch him.
"Mmm? Do what?"
Iruka's smile became even wider and happier. "Suffer through all of that. You know that I- …you could have just paid someone else to be your date for this."
Kakashi shrugged slightly. "Maa, it was nothing. I just didn't want to do that, and then have you find out- get the wrong idea. Now, would that lead anywhere good, Iruka? I don't think so." He shook his head like he was explaining the situation the a child, and the teacher rolled his eyes in fond exasperation.
"You could've just explained the situation to me. It's not like I would've been mad."
Kakashi shrugged slightly. "Well, I didn't want you to get the idea that I was complaining, or trying to pressure you into bringing our relationship out into the open- especially for something as stupid as a challenge."
If possible, Iruka looked even happier at that. He stared at the jounin for a moment before shaking his head softly, moving forward to wrap him in a warm embrace, smiling into his shoulder. "Kakashi..."
"Hmm… although Iruka," Kakashi continued, face relaxing into a hopeful little leer, "… after all that I've suffered through this afternoon… I think you should make it up to me. What'd you say, Sensei?"
"…You're lucky I love you, idiot."
5. Unbreakable
"How long can you last, Kakashi?"
The newest wound drew an elongated scream out from his raw throat, the endless, haunted sound echoing still in his ears when the cold-hearted Uchiha before him continued.
"How long can you take this… before your spirit breaks?"
Itachi slowly pierced the flesh of his wrist with a blade, the icy metal diving into a gush of hot blood and twisting between the delicate bones already straining to hold him up on the cross. The process repeated itself on his other hand, as tortuously slow as before, then all over again to every single another one of himself the Uchiha had created across the dreamscape.
He felt it all his doppelgängers' wounds like they were his own, and screamed until he he could scream no more.
"Seventy two hours, fifty seven minutes, thirty seconds remaining."
Just… two… minutes…
Kakashi felt everything, and nothing. He felt and felt and felt the blows, agony defined in ten different ways, felt his chest shuddering as his lungs struggled to inflate while filling with blood, chest cavity riddled with holes still fighting to spread oxygen throughout his mutilated limbs. He felt his heart throb and twitch as a cold metal blade carved it right out of his chest.
He felt…
Not…
"Seventy two hours…"
"Seventy two hours…"
"Seventy two hours…"
Don't… do… this… Kakashi.
Don't…
"Seventy two hours…"
break.
Hold on.
Survive.
Metal pierced him again, and his body strained up against the swords pinning him to the wood. A breathless scream was torn from his lips, but his mind thought only one thing.
Iruka.
Itachi stabbed him again.
Iruka.
Three more blows in quick succession.
Iruka Iruka Iruka.
One last stab through his heart. Blood gurgled up, spraying out over Itachi and the sword, up his throat to be coughed against the fabric of mask. Some of the vicious liquid soaked in to fill is nose with the stench while the majority dribbled back down into his throat, choking him.
Iru…
He died, blinked, and was alive.
...ka…
"Seventy two hours, two minutes, and three seconds remaining."
Iruka.
With every blow, he thought the name again. Even when they came faster than he could think the name, he thought it until he'd made up for the difference, kept repeating it until it lost all meeting, and then still, again.
At some point, the words in his mind came out his mouth in the form of a scream. He didn't know when he stopped crying out wordless expressions of excruciating agony, the sound of his own horrified yells so constant now they were white nose. He couldn't hear them anymore, but he knew he was screaming Iruka.
He didn't know who or what Iruka was. He didn't even know who he was himself. All he understood was that those precious three syllables, those beautiful sounds, I-ru-ka, they were all that kept him alive.
Iruka Iruka Iruka Iruka
"Seventy one…"
"Forty…"
"Twenty-nine…"
"Seven…"
"One-"
Iruka Iruka Iruka Iruka Iruka
When he opened his eye again, opened it to blissful peace and cool nothingness, he hmmed and nodded at appropriate intervals to those talking around him while his mind was dominated by thoughts of Iruka.
He couldn't quite think of who that was, but he did know that Iruka was everything that was important to him. He distantly heard as Naruto and Gai left- too loud, as always- and then what's-her-face healer woman left as well, and he could still think of nothing but those three syllables that kept him sane.
Kakashi blinked hazily, and next thing he knew, there was a smiling face hovering above his. His rich brown hair was pulled back from bronze skin into a soft ponytail, a few gentle strands escaping to frame the scar stretching across his nose and his wet eyes. Tears were trickling slowly down his cheeks, but he was smiling, and it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
The man above him opened his mouth to speak, but Kakashi hushed him, what he had to say next far more important.
"Thank you, Iruka. Thank you for making me unbreakable."
6. Obsession
Kakashi had a mild obsession with Iruka's hair.
He loved to touch the soft strands, to run his fingers through and bury them in the gentle warmth. He loved even more to take the hair tie out and watch as the hair fell down from its tight constraint, brown falling about his face and shoulders, all his for Kakahsi to stroke and caress and nuzzle. He loved how soft it was, how warm it was, how absolutely beautiful it was.
That was why Iruka just couldn't wear his hair down anywhere else. Because it was for him- just him! Not for anyone else's eyes. Besides, if someone else saw just how truly gorgeous he was, then maybe they would want him, too, and while Kakashi had no problem staking his claim yet again, he didn't want anyone else looking at Iruka the way only he had the right to.
7. Eternity
I'll try to stay with you forever.
Kakashi never promised forever, Iruka knew, because it was something he could not deliver.
In the end, the odds that the elusive copy nin had been evaded for decades now caught up with him, and it was the Sharingan that was both the world's savior and his downfall.
He'd entered the battle against Obito with shamefully low Chakra levels that should've put him in the hospital, then fought on for hours, straining to survive against his very best friend. The boost Kurama had given him had probably kept him alive in the beginning, but it didn't do much good when Kakashi just off and depleted it sucking Obito and parts of the Jyuubi up into his eye.
Iruka had been there, of course. He'd been assigned to Kakashi's division from the beginning, and when he heard from Inoichi that Kakashi and Gai were near floundering against masked Tobi, and they needed help, nothing could've stopped him from running to his aid.
It was Kakashi's very presence that stopped the enemy from taking Bee and Naruto away to the other dimension and dominating them there. It was also Kakashi's instability with a trait that he wasn't supposed to have that led to him exhausting himself, keeling over as he ripped the Sharingan out of Obito's head and pulling them both away into the kamui world.
Whether or not Kakashi won the fight that surely followed, they would never know, because he never returned home.
The days passed after that, and Iruka's hope slowly died.
Time passed, and Iruka grew older with it. He still taught his students, still worked his shifts at the mission's desk, still had ramen night with Rokudaime Naruto every Tuesday. In time, he still went out with his friends, and after a while, he could respond to Genma's teasing flirting with something other than an enraged shove sending the senbon-sucker tumbling to the floor.
There were a few serious attempts to get him to find somebody else again, and he heard all the lines- It's what Kakashi would have wanted, Iruka, and It's been five years, you need to get over him, and you deserve to be happy.
Maybe it was what Kakashi would have wanted, and maybe he did deserve to be happy, but he wasn't going to get over him. Kakashi deserved better than that, and besides, he could be happy without being with someone.
Needless to say, he shot down everyone who tried to get him to stop sharing his thoughts with only himself and find another to care for. It was unnecessary, he knew; didn't they see? Kakashi was all he needed, and Kakashi promised him forever. That was just on hold for a little bit.
He visited Kakashi every Saturday morning, talking to him at the memorial stone and telling him all that he was missing. And he never once considered suicide, despite the looks he'd first gotten and the way it had felt infinitely preferable in the beginning. That was something Kakashi would not have wanted, he knew, and there were others who would miss him and that he did still care about left behind.
He knew what Sakumo's suicide had done to Kakashi, and he would never dream of inflicting the same upon Naruto.
He grew to be old, older than a ninja had any rights to be, retiring to whittle away time with his friends and with his former students, hearing stories of their ever increasing prowess and feeling a tiny bubble of pride expand in his chest each time.
He still visited Kakashi ever Saturday morning, and thought of him far more often than that.
When he finally did pass, it was almost easy, and he felt the world fade away with a warm hand curled around his. It was slow at first, the changing sensation, but he realized that it wasn't Naruto's grip, anymore, keeping him anchored, but someone else's.
Someone whose hand was smaller, cooler, and clothed in a half glove…
Iruka blinked, and when Kakashi came into focus above him, waiting, smiling, and there, he pulled the man down and crushed him close.
Kakashi's voice was low and soft in his ear, everything that he remembered, and his eyes felt wet.
"I promise to stay with you forever, love."
8. Gateway
When Iruka found out Kakashi owned two homes, at first he was confused.
The first was his apartment. Iruka already knew that, and had been there himself. Kakashi had lived there himself since he was nine, and though it surely would have been cheaper (and roomier) to have bought a house a long time ago, jounin like Kakashi were often found to be far more eccentric than just a few bad financial decisions, and Iruka had never bothered to question him on it.
The second, Iruka only found out when he was going through old records for Tsunade, finding out which buildings were abandoned and ownerless, able to be demolished for further construction. He'd come across the Hatake estate, and was mildly surprised to find that it was listed in Kakashi's name.
Further investigation had shown that it had long ago been paid for in its entirety, and had been left to Kakashi per Sakumo's wishes. It had gone instead to Jiraiya- just what was a seven year old going to do with a house to his name?- and passed onto Kakashi's hands once he was eighteen. Iruka assumed Kakashi had been notified with nothing more than a letter, one the jounin probably didn't even bother to read- Kakashi likely didn't even know. And, if he did, surely, him still technically being the owner was probably just a matter of convenience- it was easier to leave it to his name then officially disown it and put it in the government's hands, and Kakashi had never liked paperwork and official proceedings, after all.
Investigating into this theory had proved otherwise.
Iruka thought he would just go to the old Hatake estate and look around, see if it showed any signs of recent habitation. He'd approached the old, dilapidated estate with an overgrown jungle for a garden and crumbling remains for walls with a sense of trepidation, and the moment he brought his foot down inside the fence and his body tingled as a wave of Chakra trickled out, it progressed into a full blown anxiety.
He'd just triggered someone's wards by stepping into here. Whoever that someone was would know instantly that he'd tried to enter the place and probably be along soon to figure out just what had happened.
It wasn't hard to guess who someone was.
Iruka bravely ignored the little voice in the back of his head telling him to run away and stood his ground. He hadn't done anything wrong. He shouldn't have to run away- and if he did, that would be leaving Kakashi worrying about who had tried to break into his father's house, and that wouldn't lead anywhere good.
Three minutes, he waited, a time limit not customary at all to someone of Kakashi's chronic lack of punctuality, before the silver-haired jounin emerged around the corner, strolling casually as if he were just out on an afternoon walk. His nose was buried in his lurid book, and if Iruka didn't know any better, he would say Kakashi was just up to his usual habit of wandering around the village, reading porn shamelessly without the slightest sense of social proprietary. Iruka fidgeted, waiting as the man approached at his slow as a sloth pace, hands fisting anxiously in his pockets, and by the time Kakashi finally stood before him, he would've sworn the jounin was building up the suspense on purpose.
Kakashi just slouched in front of him for a bit, appearing to not be there for a purpose- just to stand there, read porn, and infuriate him. Finally, when the man turned another page still without looking up, Iruka cleared his throat.
"What are you doing, Kakashi?"
"Mmm…" Kakashi stayed still for yet another moment, then finally raised his head, grey eye wandering up to meet his. "Maa, I was in the area, and was struck by the urge to take a stroll down memory lane. I must say, I'm surprised to find you here."
Iruka's eyes narrowed. "I felt your wards go, Kakashi. I know that you knew someone was here."
Kakashi's smile didn't fade in the slightest. "That's exactly what I said."
"…"
A moment passed in a thick, uncomfortable silence, and then Kakashi lowered his book. He glanced the area before focusing back on Iruka, and was he imagining it, or was there the slightest hint of anger in that one eye…?
"What exactly are you doing here, Iruka?"
"It was a mission," he answered without hesitating a beat. "I was supposed to find out what buildings were abandoned so they could be taken over for future construction projects. I- I found out this was owned by you… I thought it would be easier for me to just see if you still used it- I don't imagine you like being asked about this place very much. When I felt your wards go, I didn't go in."
Kakashi nodded slightly. His expression stayed blank and unreadable, and the jounin kept silent until Iruka fidgeted uncomfortably again. Then he turned his back sharply, distinctive slouch in place and hands in his pockets. "…Stay out of there, Iruka. It's not for you. …You can tell Tsunade-sama to keep out of it as well."
And with that said, the man walked away, leaving Iruka standing alone behind.
That was how Iruka learned that anything beyond that front gate was off limits. He wasn't to go there, and if ever dared ask why, the jounin would clam up if he was lucky, and teleport away if he wasn't. Iruka supposed it wasn't too bad; Kakashi was a private person by nature, and even if he wasn't, Iruka don't think he'd be very open to talking about the place where his father had killed himself.
Besides, he always figured that sometime, in some distant, undefinable future, that he would see the inside of Kakashi's family home. It was clearly important to him, for him to cling to it like this- the least Iruka thought he deserved was an explanation.
Only problem was, that didn't happen.
A whole two years and three months after Iruka had first stumbled upon the Hatake estate, he and Kakashi were still together and closer than ever- and he still didn't know anymore about the man's past than he had when they'd first met.
He'd tried hinting that he wanted to know more, thinking that if Kakashi realized he was hoping and waiting- patiently, yes, but still waiting- then the jounin would open up to him. It didn't work. Nothing did.
He wondered sometimes if it was a matter of trust, or if, perhaps, the jounin's past was simply riddled with things he'd rather keep private. He didn't know, but he was sure that he was getting tired of it. He was trying to be patient, but two years was long enough, damn it! Didn't Kakashi trust him at all?
He would never say such things to Kakashi, still worried that he was misreading the situation, and not wanting to disrupt what they had, that was ninety percent good and only ten percent uncertainty. And going to his friends for relationship advice and/or complaining was bad, because it had already been proven they couldn't keep their mouths shut.
But, Iruka reflected, there was perhaps one benefit of having loved ones who were dead. And that was that they couldn't spill his secrets.
"Hi," Iruka said softly, resting the small collection of flowers- white lilies for his mom, red ones for his dad, just because he'd always said red flowers were too feminine for him- and smiled on his monthly visit to their grave. The memorial stone had always felt too impersonal to him, and, besides, there was something about standing in front of the massive cenotaph that made him feel very small, like the little grief he'd come to express was nothing compared to the horribly large collection of sadness and memories in front of him.
He crouched quietly in front of the two markers for a few moments, fingers kneading softly in the dirt, then swallowed and rested his head on his arm. "Ah… I'm going to talk a bit about myself today. Sorry. I know I'm taking advantage of the fact that you can't do anything but listen silently as I rant about my own troubles, but- well…" He sighed heavily.
"It's just Kakashi. …He's being as stubborn and unreadable as ever. He- it's frustrating, I guess. …We've been together almost three years. And he knows all about me. He knows what happened to you, he knows about how Mizuki- well. He knows all about why I decided to become a teacher full-time rather than take more missions. He knows all of that- and I don't know the slightest thing about him. I mean- well, everything I know is from history texts. But that's different, you know? I don't get to hear his side of the story, from his own mouth- I don't care about the tactics used that day or the casualties or any of that in the books, I want to know what he experienced, what he lived, what he- gah. I'm not making sense, am I?"
Letting out a heavy sigh, Iruka lowered himself into a more comfortable sitting position, staring without really seeing. "I just want to know more about him. For heaven's sakes… even his father's house is off limits. What the hell could I even learn there? His favorite color as a child, his mother's china patterns?" He shook his head miserably. "...I'm sorry. I know I'm being selfish. Most people don't even get to find someone who makes them feel like how Kakashi makes me feel. And nobody's perfect- I almost want to just accept that he'll never tell me. But…" He groaned to himself. "I'd like to at least know why he won't tell me. Is it because he doesn't trust me? I like to think that he does, though… I've never given him a reason not to, and I know trusting is hard for him, but it's just been so long and- and I just want to know why he won't tell me. That would help a lot. …I really don't know what to do."
"…I didn't know."
Iruka jumped. The familiar voice had him turning around in sudden surprise, eyes wide at the notion of being caught. He climbed nervously to his feet, swallowing away the knot of anxiety in his throat and forcing one very uncomfortable smile. He stared at the silver-haired jounin and tried to stop his nerves from running amuck. Just how much did he hear…?
Kakashi's expression was unreadable, voice as carefully unemotional as always, when he continued. "I never knew you felt like this… you should've said something, Iruka."
"W-what are you doing here?" he asked back instead of answering him, because this was certainly not how he had intended to go about things. "I thought you didn't come here."
Kakashi pointed silently other Iruka's shoulder, in the direction of another grave. "My father," he said shortly, and Iruka felt a twinge of guilt for asking.
Of course… his name wouldn't be on the memorial, not with how he died.
It was oddly quiet for a few moments, Iruka with no intentions of speaking and Kakashi probably still deciding what to say. The teacher's eyes were firmly focused on the ground, and he ran back over his short conversation with his parents while his cheeks heated up. What had he said? Anything- anything that he'd rather Kakashi have not heard?
He was surprised when he saw the jounin hold out one of his hands for Iruka to take. "…Come on," he said softly, and the words were clearly not a request.
Slightly numb, Iruka did.
He walked alongside the jounin out of the cemetery, hand in his, letting the older man lead him away. They moved slowly together, traveling the well worn paths in the warm weather, Iruka silently letting Kakashi do whatever he wanted to. The jounin never said a word, and whenever Iruka looked over at his masked expression, it wasn't exactly illuminating, but it wasn't long before he realized where they were headed.
Sure enough, they soon turned around the corner towards the old location for the great clan compounds- including the Hatake estate. All his doubts continued to drain away as the jounin led him slowly along the path to his family home, finally stopping just outside the gate that had long been a barrier between the two. He slipped his hand out of Iruka's, opened and stepped through the crumbling gate that was so dirty it was impossible to tell it had once been white, and made a hand sign. Iruka's eyes widened as he felt the slight ripple of Chakra as Kakashi's wards were dispelled.
Then Kakashi smiled at him, eye curving up and, if Iruka tried, he could see the corners of his mouth lifting behind his mask as well. "I've always trusted you, Iruka." He held out his hand again, indicating for Iruka to take it and join him on the other side of the fence. "It just took me a while to figure that out."
Iruka stared, smiled, then placed his hand in Kakashi's and stepped forward.
9. Death
Death was… boring.
Kakashi had already died once, so he knew something of what it would be like. And his expectations weren't let down at all.
He met up with his parents, and there were no great, maturing, cliche-type conversations between parent and child, because they'd already happened. Then there was his old team, but considering he himself had killed two out of three of them, that was unspeakably awkward, and not to mention embarrassing, when Minato started fussing over how grown up he looked and couldn't get enough of ruffling his hair and trying to make him blush.
Then there was Jiraiya, and, to his eternal regret, the Sannin had not picked up the unfinished Icha Icha series in the afterlife. Such material was apparently considered inappropriate here (like it hadn't been back in the real world), and besides, it was a bit difficult to find inspiration when Tsunade wasn't here to fill him with unrequited love.
Kakashi, by definition, was a very private and antisocial person. And now- now, with the option of teleporting away gone, he was trapped in one place with his father, his mother, Minato, Obito, Rin, Jiraiya, Asuma, and so many others he had once known- and they all always seemed to want to talk.
Gods, it was miserable.
So, yes, death was boring.
And far too white.
Ghostly spirits didn't exactly have any methods of watching the other world's progress, which meant the only person's company that Kakashi had ever been able to stand for longer than an hour was as gone from his life as he was from his. Kakashi spent his time lurking and hiding, usually, wandering about how his better half was doing and hoping he wasn't too lonely. He thought he might not be- after all, the younger man had Naruto and the rest of the Rookie Nine still there with him (and thank kami none of them had followed him into the afterlife). Besides, he knew Iruka. He was the type to recover from a loss- not let it bow him down and break him.
Still, he couldn't help but worry…
Needless to say, it was a rather lonely couple of decades for Kakashi. He was happy, he wouldn't deny that, what with how many people he no longer had to miss, but… the most important one was still not there.
When Kakashi felt that yet another spirit had joined them in life after death- this one, a strikingly, wonderfully, perfectly familiar one, just about nothing could've stopped him from dashing to the spot to welcome the other man home.
Iruka woke up in his arms, brown eyes fluttering open to stare up in wonderment. Kakashi squeezed his hand, maskless face stretched in the widest grin he had ever smiled, and leaned down to press his lips onto his in the last welcome home kiss they would ever need.
10. Opportunities
There were many opportunities for Iruka to see Kakashi's face.
Perhaps not so many in the beginning. When they had first started dating, Kakashi hadn't trusted easily, and if Iruka had tried to jump on him unawares or sneak a peek when he thought the jounin wasn't looking, his eyes surely would've been met by a barrier of black cloth- and then, Kakashi's back, as he turned to leave, hurt and betrayed. But, later, as Kakashi grew more and more comfortable around him, trusting that Iruka would wait to see his face until Kakashi was ready for him to see it…
There were so many opportunities now Naruto would probably kill him if he knew just how many times he could've seen the mystery of the copy nin's face and hadn't. Whenever they ate together, when Kakashi would pull his mask down and leave it that way, instead of twitching it just below his mouth only long enough for him to cram a bite inside. At night, during the summer, when Kakashi now slipped the thin fabric down to pool around his neck instead of sweltering behind it or going to sleep in his own home, like he'd used to.
There were the times when Kakashi would hesitantly ask that Iruka would wear a blindfold, or when he would draw the curtains and turn out the lights until the only thing Iruka could see was the darkness, and then, they'd come together and kiss and cherish. Then, too, Iruka could take advantage of the trust Kakashi did have in him, peeking out from under the blindfold or flicking a light on before the jounin realized what was happening.
Then there were the numerous times when Kakashi had been injured, and Iruka would come and find the man either drugged into unconsciousness or exhausted into a sleep, mask still pulled up or, on occasion, the flimsy sheet blocking his view.
Those times, surely, would have been the easiest for Iruka to get one good, long look at Kakashi's face. Just peel away the blanket, sit back, and enjoy.
But, well, he figured that it would mean nothing- nothing except the probable end of the best thing that had happened to him in years, anyway- to grab a look unfairly. He wanted to earn Kakashi's trust, not take advantage of it.
And when the day finally came that Kakashi slowly turned to face Iruka, in the warm, comforting lights of their own home, pulled down his mask, and kissed him, it was to find Iruka that had been waiting patiently all along.