Hello Everyone! It tiffany! I know a lot of you are waiting for deity to continue, but I just couldn't get out chapter three until I got this fic out of my system. It is Kakairu, and is a three part fic. And for warning, the rating on this fic will most likely go up.

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It's true, Iruka is a sensei at the academy, but nowadays, more often than not, he would be off on a mission. And Kakashi would be, justifiably, worried about his lover. He would go to the Hokage and keep demanding to know when Iruka would be back until she told him just to make him go away so that she could finish her sake or until she broke something with her freakish strength. But either way he always ended up knowing.

Then, when Iruka didn't show up on time, which was happening more often than when he started taking long missions, he would go back to the Hokage's office demanding to know either why Iruka wasn't back yet or where Iruka was so that Kakashi could go and get him himself. Kakashi would not sleep, would not eat, until Iruka came back.

When Iruka finally does get home, Kakashi is happy. Kakashi is elated. Kakashi is so obsessed with his boyfriend that it even scares Iruka a little (but he'd never admit that, even on pain of death).

He worried, and Iruka was grateful for that. After his parents were killed, there was no one there to care about him. But sometimes, his boyfriend went a bit overboard.

A steaming bath would always be ready, and a scalding hot bowl of ramen from the Ichiraku Ramen Bar would be on the kitchen table. Iruka usually did not get the sleep that he craved on those nights, but would not complain about the sated feeling he would have as feel asleep with the coming of the dawn in Kakashi's arms. The heavy scent of sex still clinging to the sheets and their skin.

But this time, it was Kakashi on a mission. An S-class that was supposed to take around three months. In four days, Kakashi will have been gone for five.

Iruka was worried, and justifiably so, but he understood that these things could not be measured and formed to fit into any type of schedule.

He spoke with the Hokage, and received some information regarding the whereabouts of the ANBU unit that Kakashi was attached to. He would get information regarding the number of deaths and the number of injured ninja in all units pertaining to that mission and any others in the area. This, of course, was to determine the amount of danger any leaf-nin would be in based upon the number and degree of assaults which have happened so far.

When Kakashi did get home, a bowl of scalding miso soup with eggplant would be on the kitchen table. A steaming bath would be ready, Iruka waiting in it.

But this time, Kakashi came home and no one was there. There was no miso soup with eggplant waiting for him on the kitchen table. There was no steaming hot bath ready so that he could ease his tired, sore, aching muscles. There was no Iruka to take the emptiness away.

When Iruka walked through the door an hour later, Kakashi was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for him, still dressed in the grimy uniform he had been wearing for -how many days?- he doesn't know anymore. His ANBU mask crooked up and off to the side. A puddle of blood slowly growing on the hardwood floor beneath his chair.

Iruka kneeled before him and started stripping Kakashi of his gear and clothes, trying to find the open wound so that Kakashi wouldn't bleed to death.

"What are you doing?" Kakashi's voice was flat, his eyes cold.

"I'm making sure that you don't bleed to death. Why the hell haven't you dressed these, or at least tried to make the bleeding stop?" Iruka missed the cold looks and the flat tone, all his attention focused on the deep gashes across Kakashi's left side that were left by either kunai or katana.

"Why weren't you here?"

"I just got back from the Hokage's office. I had to report on a mission I had just arrived from about two hours ago."

"Why did you go straight to the Hokage instead of writing out the report like the other chuunin do? Was it that important?"

Iruka paused in the wrapping of Kakashi's torso. He looked up at Kakashi with confusion written on his face because of the harsh, down right sarcastic tone that Kakashi had used against him.

"Are you trying to imply something Kakashi?" Iruka's voice held a steely edge that Kakashi had never heard before, but he ignored that warning sign and kept staring at Iruka in such a condescending manner that Iruka could feel the anger boiling in his veins.

"What are you really doing Iruka? Your name is never on the missions that you take. Hell, according to your file, you haven't been going on missions since you started teaching at the academy over eleven years ago. Where the fuck have you been going Iruka!" By this time, Kakashi was on his feet, yelling at Iruka who was still kneeling on the floor.

Iruka slowly stood and looked Kakashi in the eye. "That does not concern you." His tone giving no hint of any feeling, his demeanor screaming indifference.

"How the fuck does that not concern me?" Kakashi's anger spread over the room, tension invading and pressing in on their skin as if it were static electricity filling the air.

"There are things that go on in this village that you do not need to know."

Kakashi's glare tuned in to one of disgust, his voice lowed, dripping with annoyance, just trying to get a reaction out of the brunette. "If there were things like that in this village, you sure as hell wouldn't know about them. After all, you're just a fucking chuunin."

As soon as the words left Kakashi's mouth, he wished that he could take them back. His entire face fell, his lack of mask showed his mouth moving, trying to form words that just wouldn't come out.

"I see." He turned on his heel and strode towards the door, his back straight with pride and determination.

Kakashi took a step towards him, reaching out his hand to try and stop the love of his life from walking out of the door. "Please, 'Ruka-coi..."

Iruka stopped just short of the threshold, turning his head slightly to his left so that he could see his former lover with his peripheral vision. "Do not address me so informally, Hatake-sama."

His hand fell limply back to his side as all he could do was watch as his, his everything, walked out the door and silently closed it behind him. Iruka did not look back again, he didn't have to. He already knew that tears were hitting the floor of what was once their home.

The small "I'm sorry," was lost on the lonely house as it softly echoed down the corridors.

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