AN: Yes, it is finally here, the long awaited sequel to Stealing Paradise. I hope you enjoy.

Stealing Paradise II:

Paradise Stolen

By: Jecir

It was cold. Or perhaps, he was just tired. His body shook, either way, as he walked through the silence of the night. He smelled of blood, sweat, and grit; a familiar scent to him now. He wondered how he had lived his life without this smell lingering. The mission had been hard. They were always hard. Many had died. Many they could not afford to lose had died. The village was struggling to survive. He was struggling to survive.

The wind howled mournfully through the valley. He could see the fires burning in windows as the villagers settled in for another restless night. Ten years had not stayed the fears placed in their hearts. Their village had been destroyed without warning. None felt safe. He sighed heavily and shook his head. Safety was an illusion; why had they clung to it for so long? He couldn't remember why. Ten years ago, life had been safe. Well, as safe as a ninja's life could be. Things had been different back then. He had been different. Ten years ago…

…was a lifetime ago. He could never go back, no matter how much he wished to; he was what he was now. That would not change. He had gone too far into the darkness to come back clean. So, he would keep going, keep striving, and keep fighting until Fate saw fit to steal his life away like it had so many before him. So many who had deserved to live longer than he…so why was he the one still standing? He would never know.

He arrived. Standing proudly against the darkness, a testament to the struggles and sacrifices of Konoha, and an artifact that he knew well, was the stone. Moonlight reflected off the smoothed monument; shadows formed in the grooves of the kanji. Each name stood out like a ghost, eternally haunting his mind.

Here, he stood, exhausted and trembling. Here, he finally let the blood-stained katana slip from his grasp; let the satchel of kunai and shuriken drop to the ground; and here, he finally raised a gloved hand to remove the white porcelain mask so that his hardened brown eyes could gaze unobstructed at the memories of all that he had lost. Pushing the mask up over his ratty brown hair, Iruka sat down in front of the stone; the weight of the years causing him to slump and the fatigue of a long mission causing him to sway. Still, as had become his ritual of late, he faced those who had died before him and waited for their judgment.

Waited for his…

"Good evening, Kakashi-san," he whispered hoarsely. "Yes, I survived. Again."

The kanji forming the name of the lost copy-nin seemed to glint back at him. Iruka narrowed his eyes. "Don't give me that. I tried to die today. I just…didn't."

Yes, he had tried. He had been trying since that fateful day when Pain destroyed all that he knew. All that he loved. All that he had strived to protect for so many years. The village had lain in ruins. And what had he done? Nothing. He had watched as Kakashi and the others fought with all their heart and soul to protect the village. He had remained on the sidelines, useless. He had survived.

And Kakashi had died.

Iruka cursed under his breath as he mustered up enough chakra to open a shadow gate. He extracted a bottle of saki and let the void close. He should not be alive. It was unfair. Uncorking the bottle, he took a swig. He had not started drinking until that day. Gasping at the familiar burning of the rice wine rushing down his parched throat, Iruka raised the bottle and said, "Here's to you, Kakashi. You and your stupid books."

A silly sort of grin broke through the weariness that marred his once boyish face. Where there had once only been laugh lines were deep rivets carved from many days without a smile reaching those lips. His one scar was now accompanied by four more. And the tender care that had once alighted the teacher's eyes was replaced by numbness. He had lost so much that day.

Naruto had saved the village. It had nearly cost the boy his life. Iruka remembered those horrifying moments with stark clarity. Naruto transforming into the nine-tailed fox. His battle with Pain. The final moments when he tore through the enemy of Konoha. The slow agony of watching him fall after transforming back. That had been the one moment he had acted. Iruka remembered stumbling through the rubble to the prone form of his student, praying to any god that would hear to spare the boy. He reached the blond ninja just as Hinata did. Hinata, who had been brave enough to defend Naruto with her very body, grabbed Naruto's hand and called his name repeatedly, desperate to keep him alive. He had knelt next to the boy, suddenly numb, unable to do anything save stare. Sakura arrived soon after with Tsunade. He was pushed aside in order to allow the Hokage and her apprentice to work. It had been the longest day of his life.

Iruka drank deep from the bottle, trying as he always did to drown out the memories. He turned back to the stone, addressing it like an old friend as he said, "Your team is doing fine. Sakura is pregnant again." He paused, as if waiting for a reaction before continuing. "Yes, the Uchihas are working hard to rebuild their clan. That is their sixth child, I think. Sakura hopes it is another set of twins. That would make seven instead of six. She is hoping for another girl. Sasuke wants another boy." Taking a swing, he mused, "Perhaps it will be a boy and girl set of fraternal twins. Then both would be happy. Though," he pondered as he swirled the sake around, "Sasuke should be less demanding. Sakura has given him four sons. She only has one daughter. It is a bit unfair."

Unfair. Yes, but life was not fair. If it were, he would have died. All cowards should die. Heroes should live.

His parents should have lived.

Akuri-chan should have lived.

Asuma should have lived.

Iruka's eyes hardened and his grip tightened around the neck of the bottle.

Kakashi should have lived.

He took another long drink.

The days following the battle with Pain had been filled with confusion and despair. A make-shift hospital housed the survivors. Naruto had stayed there for weeks; many thought he was lost to them forever, but not Hinata. She stayed by his side until he awoke from the coma.

The Hokage worked night and day to restore order while sending out all she could spare to track down and kill the rest of the Akatsuki. Naruto joined the battle as soon as he could walk. Iruka had remained behind. He had been needed, they said, to look after the children. Iruka grunted at the memory. Yes, Iruka, watch the children. You are a Chuunin. You are the babysitter.

He did not know what happened out there, only that, months later, Naruto returned with Sasuke and Sakura and the rest of his former students who had gone out together to face the Akatsuki. They brought with them Uchiha Madara's head.

"What's that?" Iruka wondered aloud. "How is Naruto? Hn. You mean the Hokage." He sipped the saki. "Show him the proper respect, Kakashi. It doesn't matter if he was your student. As you so eloquently reminded me all those years ago..." He trailed off, his eyes becoming glazed over with melancholy as he drifted once again into memory. "He isn't a student anymore."

Naruto led the way in rebuilding the village. He and Sasuke worked together. The last member of the Uchiha worked himself to death, as if rebuilding the village would redeem him of his sins. If any threat came upon the village while in its infancy, Naruto and Sasuke were all that was needed to destroy it.

Ten years later, Konoha, though still struggling, was finally reaching the rank it had held before all of this started thanks to the wise and passionate leadership of the new Hokage. Tsunade had stepped down the day the village was completed. That had been five years ago.

An owl hooted in the distance. Iruka glanced in its general direction, wondering over the distraction. He used to enjoy listening to the birds outside of the village. He used to take the students out there to remind them that, despite the world they lived in and the path of death they were embracing even at such a young age, there was still life to be cherished all around them. He had once believed that if peace could be achieved without the use of ninjas, then life would be better.

He chuckled bitterly as he took a deep swig. He had been such a naïve fool back then. He knew now what the world truly needed.

The world needed ninjas. Ninjas needed to die in order to keep the peace.

So why wasn't he dead yet?

"Why?" he whispered. He would need to report in soon. The Hokage would be anxious to know the result of his mission. But he wasn't done with his wine. "Why…why do I want to die, you ask?" He looked up at the moon. A sardonic sort of grin twisted his face. "It's your fault, you know. I would not have done this if you had lived. Had you lived, there would not be a need for me. I could have continued on as I was…a teacher. Unnecessary in the overall comings and goings of the great ninjas. Had I died that day, no one would have mourned me. I would have been one of hundreds, easily replaced and easily forgotten. But you…" He sat back up and raised the bottle to the stone. "You were not allowed to die. You were not replaceable."

The news of Kakashi's death had shaken the survivors of Konoha to the very core. Copy-nin Hatake Kakashi was one of the greatest ninjas in the world. If he was dead, who would protect them? Iruka had wondered much the same thing. What would they do without Hatake Kakashi?

Then it had happened.

"Umino-san?" It was Kurenai.

Iruka looked up from the paperwork he had been attempting to finish. "Kurenai-san. Good evening." He stood and offered her the one seat available in the crowded tent that was serving as the Hokage's main base.

"Forgive me. I couldn't find you anywhere else." She smiled a soft, sad smile. "I was hoping to do this in private, but…"She waved at the masses of people busily trying to make sense of the world.

Iruka nodded and rubbed a hand through his disheveled hair. "Yeah. It has been hectic. But, we can go somewhere private if you would like."

Kurenai shook her head. "This will only take a minute." She reached into her bag and withdrew a brow package. "Gai found this with Kakashi's things. We thought you should have it. You know, to remember old times."

Iruka looked at the package, confused. What could Kakashi have that his closest friends would want to give to him, who was practically a stranger to the close-knit group of Jounins? He took the package with a meek "Thanks" and carefully opened it. The orange cover of Ichi Ichi Paradise stared up at him, causing him to pause. In the midst of chaos, he suddenly felt alone. His mind was captured with memories of a prank pulled not so long ago, when he had been foolish…when he had been full of dreams. Without thought as to why, the Chuunin began to laugh.

However, the laughter soon transformed into tears as the truth began to sink in. Hatake Kakashi was dead. A man he had hated and yet admired from a far was gone. A man who fought every day for the sake of the village was gone. And he, the punk kid who had tried to prove himself by stealing a stupid book, was still alive. It was not fair.

That had been the beginning of the end of Umino Iruka, Chuunin school teacher.

Ten years later, the Hunter-nin without a name, the ANBU Captain feared by thousands, sat in front of the Monument dedicated to so many who had died and drank the rest of his saki. "Thanks again for the book," he said after he threw the bottle into the darkness. "I understand why you kept reading it. Besides the sex, it is quite addicting. I finished it for the hundredth time last night. My opponent was quite angry with me for not focusing on the fight," he said with a laugh. "Maybe, if I live another ten years, I will retire and become a team leader. Then I can anger the next generation by reading while I train. What do you think?"

Silence was his answer.

Still, he smiled as if the masked ninja had said what he knew he would say. "You're right. That's your gig. I should come up with my own."

Iruka stood up and stretched. "I need to report in now. But it was good to see you." He slung his satchel over his shoulder and picked up his discarded katana. "I promise next time, I'll try harder to die."

He made that promise every time he left. It was a promise ten years in the making, and in ten years, he had kept it. Yet, he was still alive.

And as long as he was alive, his paradise was gone. Ten years ago, paradise had been stolen. And there was no angry Jounin to get it back for him. Not this time.

With a heavy sigh, Iruka walked away, hoping never to return again.

The End

AN: Not what you expected, was it? Reviews are love.