A/N: All right, I have finally decided to quit with the one-shots and drabbles, and start getting serious.
So…I bring you "Rain Must Fall," MeeLee's first multi-chapter Naruto fanfiction. I won't say too much about it, other than that it's semi-AU, meaning that Kakashi is from Hidden Leaf and Iruka is from Hidden Rain. Eventual KakaIru. I am way too obsessed with this couple.
As always, reviews are appreciated and flames are ignored.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
RAIN MUST FALL: CHAPTER I
Be still, sad heart, and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall…
-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, "The Rainy Day"
BEGIN
It was dark, utterly dark, the cold oppressive, the wind a merciless harbinger of death and blood and endless blackness. He could not see in the inky darkness that surrounded him, but he needed no eyes. He was shinobi, after all.
The trees opened up before him as he leapt gracefully through the forest canopy, dodging leaves that felt like ice and branches that clawed at him like so many gnarled, dying hands. He could have stopped, he supposed, but the mission required haste. And the mission always came before anything else, before fatigue, before emotions, before even his own life.
And so he continued, through the leaves and the branches and the gathering darkness, through the thick ocean of black, black, black. The wind blew harshly, tugging at his silver hair, at the mask pulled over half of his face. He could smell the blood already.
And then suddenly they were there, so many dark and deadly shadows that descended upon him like demons. Little flashes of light came into his vision now, glinting off of sharpened kunai and shuriken and the polished metal plates of hitai-ate, so much like his own but for the four parallel dark lines cutting through the centers of each.
A squad of Hidden Rain shinobi. Enemies.
They moved like wraiths, both himself and his opponents. Kunai flew, shuriken spun, exploding tags threw off eerie flashes into the night. The world became tinted a strange pink and everything became outlined in a distinct chakra glow as his hitai-ate disappeared of its own accord and his Sharingan eye was exposed and, keeping a tight grip on his kunai, he surged forward.
It was over in an instant; he had only to blink and the other ninja had fallen and disappeared into the darkness. Now it was only him. And the other.
The other was currently slumped against a nearby tree, an eerie light playing on him so that his features became strangely outlined and exaggerated: short dark brown hair that hung loosely about his face and rather large, deep brown eyes.
One word entered his mind, echoing like a condemnation. Again, it said. It was again. He had seen this man again, had fought with him again, had injured him again. And now…and now…
He would kill him again.
He watched as a helpless spectator as his body walked forward on its own, holding the kunai that suddenly felt frighteningly cold in his calloused hands. And as he stood over the dying (soon to be dead) Rain shinobi, he saw the other man's face shift from the pain of the wound to an accepting, resigned, almost tired smile.
The ninja closed his eyes, leaning his head back against what was no longer a tree but a wall of darkness, for the tree had gone too and it was just them now. He opened his mouth, his lips moved, but it took a moment for the words to come, echoing and undulating but strangely clear.
"Do it," the words said. "And don't be sorry."
He stepped forward and brought the kunai around in a practiced motion, slashing the man's throat open. And there was blood.
Except it was too much blood, and he watched in horror as the entire man's body melted into blood, flowing smoothly onto the dark ground in rivers, in torrents, in fucking tsunamis why the hell is there so much BLOOD—
And then he was drowning, drowning in the blood that suddenly pooled around his feet like a lake of death and foreboding and red everywhere and he was sinking and couldn't get out, and he tried to do something—something anything please—but he was sinking, still sinking and thrashing and trying to breathe but he couldn't and he was going to drown and he was going to die and there was blood and red and wet and cold and black and don't be sorry but he was sorry and he didn't want to die and oh Kami-sama please someone HELP ME—
It was the incessant ringing of his alarm clock that woke him from the dream. Yes, dream, twenty-six-year-old Hatake Kakashi said to himself as he blinked groggily, ignoring the sweat trickling down his brow and his own hitching breaths as he reached over and slapped a hand down on the cursed device, bathing his bedroom in silence once again.
A dream. Because shinobi don't have nightmares. Especially not about the people they killed in a war that had ended nearly six months ago.
Yawning quietly, Kakashi turned just enough to read his clock. Which, in retrospect, was pretty stupid since he knew what time he set that damn thing for every day anyway, but it was the principle that counted.
Four o'clock. Kakashi grumbled to himself, briefly contemplating an extra two or three hours of sleep until the sun rose for certain, but then remembered the western wing of the hospital that had been badly damaged, and a half-hearted promise he had made to one of the nurses to help rebuild it. Sighing, he sprang lithely out of bed and headed into the bathroom.
Methodically slipping out of his sleeping clothes and ducking his head under the cold spray of the shower, Kakashi allowed his mind to wander briefly to the events of the last year. He was sure he wasn't the only shinobi who was relieved that the war was over. Especially because no one really even knew why it had started in the first place.
The only thing anyone knew for certain was that, more than a year ago, two teams of ninja, one from Hidden Rain and one from Hidden Leaf, had slaughtered each other for reasons unknown. Both villages had been outraged, and blame was thrown wildly back and forth. Finger-pointing and name-calling soon escalated into not a few skirmishes and two major battles, all with notable losses, and not long after, formal war had been declared and all shinobi in both villages had been mobilized, including one Hatake Kakashi, famous (or perhaps infamous) Copy-Nin of Konoha.
Which had led to him being assigned to steal a top-secret scroll from the front lines and to return it to Konoha as quickly as possible. Stealing the scroll had been no problem, but on the way back he had been ambushed by a small squad of Rain ninja, led by that man. That "Do it and don't be sorry" man.
Kakashi shook his head slowly as he finally stepped out of the shower, towelling himself off and dressing quickly in the standard-issue dark blue shirt and pants before proceeding to brush his teeth and run careless fingers through his drying hair.
No shinobi in his right mind should have said that. Hell, no shinobi not in his right mind should have said that either, the jounin thought to himself as he zipped up his vest and tied his hitai-ate around his forehead, pulling it down so that the left side slanted over his Sharingan, obscuring it from view. That Rain shinobi had had a death wish, and while it was common for shinobi to do so—hell, even Kakashi had found himself more than once sitting on the cold bathroom floor contemplating the different uses of a razor blade—it hadn't seemed right for that man. Because Kakashi had looked at that man and he had seen a family, a loving wife and maybe one or two adorable little kids who would never see their father again. He had seen a family in that man's eyes, and Kakashi knew he had killed more than one person that night.
Perhaps that was why he had made that promise to himself, he thought, tying his kunai holster to his leg and hooking his supply bag onto his waistband. The promise that, should he ever run into anyone from that man's family, he would reveal himself as the killer and afford the other a chance at revenge. Because that was the least he could do for that shinobi.
But until then, his home village required his assistance, Kakashi reminded himself as he stepped out of his apartment, setting the traps and locking the door firmly behind him. Even though the war had officially ended more than half a year ago, reconstruction was still going on and both villages were making large efforts to rebuild.
Of course, that didn't mean they were ignoring each other, Kakashi thought, nose buried in his bright orange Icha Icha book as he walked casually down the street, other hand stuffed in his pocket, nodding the occasional good-morning to shinobi and civilians alike. After conducting an extensive investigation of exactly what had happened between those two unfortunate teams, Hidden Rain had concluded that misinformation on the part of their team had led them to see the Leaf shinobi as enemies, resulting in the brutal attack. With minimal hesitation, then, Hidden Rain took on official responsibility for the war and the deaths of the shinobi teams, and in a public statement by the daimyo the village asked for peace negotiations with the promise to pay reparations for the deaths of those lost from the Leaf team.
Apparently as tired of the war as the other village was, Hidden Leaf readily agreed, and in return for Rain's cooperation did not push for unfair terms in the resulting truce. A cease-fighting agreement was imposed, troops were withdrawn, and a renewal of their previous alliance was put into serious consideration. Since then, both villages had been occupied with their own reconstruction, but neither forgot nor hesitated to send teams of shinobi back and forth to help with the rebuilding effort in the other village as a sign of goodwill. Kakashi himself had gone to Rain once to help with the reconstruction of one of the village's outer walls, and during the four or so days he had stayed there he had found the Rain people to be very pleasant. They held no prejudices or grudges despite his Leaf heritage and were always polite and hospitable; the family he had stayed with had provided him with everything he had needed and much more, and the constant, bright "Hatake-sama"s that had followed him everywhere he went had reminded him somewhat of his father.
He had found no clues as to the identity or the family of that shinobi he had killed.
Kakashi sighed, greeting a couple of passing chuunin with a polite nod as he turned toward the direction of the hospital. He was not used to having the death of someone, especially someone whose name he did not even know—he had never had the chance to look at the ninja's dog tags because, thank goodness, the man's body had been rigged with explosive tags and he had burst into flame instead of dissolving into blood—affect him so much. Sure, there was his father, Konoha's White Fang who had fallen from grace and had committed seppuku in their kitchen, scarring Kakashi for life; there was Obito, who had given his life—and so much more—for Kakashi so many years ago; there was his sensei, the Yondaime Hokage, who had died fighting the Kyuubi; there was the Sandaime Hokage, who had died in a final confrontation with Orochimaru; and there were so many others: friends, teammates, comrades, lovers.
But they had all had names. They had all been close to his heart and he had loved them all, albeit in the strange, twisted way that only a shinobi of Kakashi's stature was capable of. Which was why he was so confused by this one Rain shinobi, whose name he did not even know, whose rank he did not even know—though jounin was a very good guess—yet he had been haunting Kakashi's nightma—dreams ever since the night he had died at the Copy-Nin's hands.
Stopping before the hospital wing and surveying the damage—mostly structural to the walls, possibly from a stray jutsu—Kakashi stretched slightly, tucking his book away along with any memories of the war. Past was past, after all. Stepping forward, he got to work.
Several hours and some impressive use of his Awesome Jounin Speed and Strength™ later, the sun was high in the sky and Kakashi was on his way to see if any more help was needed, humming lightly to himself as he skimmed the pages of his book. Feeling a distinct ripple of chakra above him, he looked up just in time to see Shiranui Genma and Sarutobi Asuma land lightly on the roof above him and take off again.
Kakashi blinked. What were they in such a hurry for?
"Yo."
Both Genma and Asuma looked up and nodded in acknowledgement toward Kakashi, but neither slowed down. His attention still half-focused on the contents of his book, Kakashi kept smooth pace with them. "Where're you off to in such a hurry?"
Genma stopped. As did Asuma. Kakashi looked up from his book to see them giving him the most annoyed look two high-ranked jounin were capable of giving to an even higher-ranked jounin. Which probably didn't quite have the desired effect, but Kakashi got the message all the same. "Ah…I'm supposed to know that already, aren't I?"
Genma rolled his eyes, long senbon flicking from side to side as he spoke. "You really weren't paying attention to Tsunade-sama yesterday, were you?" he asked, flipping a lock of honey-colored hair nonchalantly over his shoulder.
"Well…" Kakashi rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I got the 'rebuild the western wall' part, and the 'Shikamaru wake up' part…and then I might've gotten a little too absorbed in my book…but I did catch the 'Shizune where the hell is my sake bottle' part at the very end when everyone was dismissed…"
Asuma inhaled deeply on his cigarette, turning his head quickly to blow the smoke in the other direction before turning back to Kakashi. "You're an ass," he said. "What's more important, that book or our village's safety?"
Kakashi's eye curved up into a perfect inverted U. "Well, I would think the answer to that question is obvious." Asuma nodded. "After all, this village'll eventually go out of existence anyway, but Jiraiya-sama's books will always—"
The bearded jounin smacked him. Or rather, attempted to smack him. Kakashi was too good of a ninja to actually let the blow land, ducking quickly down as Genma heaved a heavy sigh. "Back off, you two," he said. "We don't want to make a bad impression on our guests."
Kakashi blinked, straightening again. "Guests?"
"Yes, Kakashi. Guests. That Tsunade-sama spent twenty minutes talking about at the meeting yesterday while you were busy reading porn," Asuma said.
"Basically, a group of Hidden Rain citizens are coming here today," Genma explained. "They're comprised of several important government officials, along with official representatives from the most influential clans in Rain. They'll be spending the next few days here to iron out the last few nitty-gritty details of that peace treaty, and then they'll sign it on behalf of their village."
"Hokage-sama ordered all jounin and chuunin to be at the village gates to give them a proper ceremonial greeting," Asuma said. "Which I believe Genma is leading."
The tokubetsu jounin nodded. "Then Tsunade-sama asked for volunteers to house our guests. And you apparently agreed to do so."
"I did?"
Asuma rolled his eyes. "Oh, for the love of—she came up and asked you, Kakashi."
"Ah…" Kakashi blinked, mentally rewinding back to the previous evening. Let's see…porn, porn, Hokage-sama coming up, more porn…oh.
Now he remembered. The Godaime Hokage had come right up to him, hazel eyes staring right at him as she asked, "And you? Are you up for the mission?"
Whereas Kakashi, not wanting to seem like he hadn't been paying attention because he sure as hell did not want a beating from an angry Sannin, had replied with an affirmative and gone back to his book.
"Oh." Kakashi scratched his head. "So that's what she was talking about."
Genma sighed. "So are you coming or not?" he asked. "And if you are, you'd better put that damn book away."
"Of course." Kakashi pocketed said item before smiling at his two comrades. "Shall we?"
They arrived at the village gates within minutes, pausing atop a nearby roof to survey the new arrivals who were currently gathered just outside the massive walls. Kakashi gave them a lazy once-over. The lot of them were uninteresting; they were divided into two groups: one apparently of the government officials, dressed in traditional robes, and the other of the clan representatives, all having the look of hardened shinobi and dressed in standard-issue Rain ninja uniforms. Kakashi eyed them carefully: most of them were relatively old, probably in their forties and fifties, most likely retired. There were only two younger ones: the first was blond, probably in his mid-thirties, and he was chatting amiably with—
Kakashi's breath caught in his throat.
It wasn't him; it couldn't be him because he was dead, for heaven's sake. But there was no mistaking the hair: longer, yes, and pulled into a tight ponytail, but the same shade and the same texture all the same. And the eyes: pools of dark brown, only narrower and containing even more softness. The skin, too: tanned to a dark bronze. The only striking difference was that this shinobi had a horizontal scar across the bridge of his nose.
At that point, the blond said something apparently funny and the brown-haired man broke into hearty laughter, face flushing slightly as he made some witty retort to his companion.
Well. This was certainly going to be interesting.
Kakashi's thoughts were interrupted when Genma stepped forward, falling several meters to land lightly on his feet in front of the Rain group. Instantly everyone quieted as both Rain and Leaf shinobi turned their attention to him.
Removing the senbon from his mouth, he tossed it carelessly into a nearby trash can and cleared his throat. "Citizens of Hidden Rain, I, Shiranui Genma, greet you on behalf of our Hokage and the other villagers of Hidden Leaf. I assure you that we will provide you with the best hospitality Leaf has to offer." He bowed, and the other Leaf shinobi, Kakashi and Asuma included, hurried to follow.
One of the Rain officials, presumably the leader, stepped forward and returned the bow. "We humbly thank you," he said.
"Our Hokage is waiting for you in her tower. You will be debriefed there," Genma said. "So if you would please gather close to me, I can get you there in no time."
The official obediently stepped forward, motioning for the rest of the group to follow him. When they were all gathered in a circle around Genma, the jounin turned to the rest of the Leaf shinobi. "All host volunteers have been summoned as well," he said, eyes settling a little too long on Kakashi. Then his hands flew through seals and in a flash and a puff of smoke the entire group was gone.
Beside him, Asuma sighed, lighting a new cigarette while crushing the old one beneath his sandal. "Better get going then," he said, nodding to Kakashi.
"…Yeah." Asuma blinked, having caught the hint of uncertainty in Kakashi's voice, but by the time he turned around the silver-haired jounin was already gone.