Harsh Reality
I love you. I promise you, I will come back alive. I promise.
It had all started during the Chuunin exams. On that day when Kakashi-sensei had nominated Team 7, and Iruka-sensei had made his protests; but it was to no avail. In the end it was Kakashi-sensei's decision alone, and so his protests had went unheard.
Kakashi always told him to stop with the formalities. Iruka was just Iruka to him, and Kakashi should've been just Kakashi to Iruka. That was what he said. What he wanted. So they walked after the meeting, and Kakashi asked him asked him why he was so concerned about Team 7 not being nominated. Iruka had given the usual and somewhat boring reply of their not being up to par yet. Kakashi knew, all along, he knew that Iruka was lying through his teeth.
"Stop sheltering him, Iruka."
Him. Naruto. Iruka didn't see how he was sheltering him. He wasn't… no. He was not sheltering him. He was just protecting him from the harsh reality of the world he had not yet seen. Just protecting him. That was all.
"If you ask me, I think you're the one who needs to see the harsh reality of it all."
Why Iruka? Iruka had seen the harsh reality of the world. He had watched his parents get slaughtered by the Kyuubi, he had watched his comrades die, he had watched as Mizuki betrayed Konoha. As Mizuki attacked him. Betrayed him.
"…Come eat dinner with me Iruka. I'll even cook it myself."
Iruka had given in, in the end, and he'd dined with Kakashi that night. And the next, and the next… It was when Naruto had left for two years, that it had finally happened. When he stayed over and finally gave in. Kakashi had insisted, Kakashi had been so kind, and so gentle. He'd made Iruka feel safe. He'd lessened the pain with his calming words and he stopped when Iruka asked. In the end, it was worth it.
"You coming over tonight?"
Iruka couldn't remember exactly what his room at home looked like by then. If someone were to ask him to describe it, he'd have drawn a blank and started describing the warmth of Kakashi's room; Kakashi's sheets. Kakashi had even started to change his house around a little to better suit to Iruka's pleasures, because he liked it better that way. That was his excuse.
"I love you, Iruka."
Then those words came, and Iruka found that he had fallen into the same depths of love that Kakashi had described. He'd yearn for Kakashi all day; he'd worry about the jounin; he'd stay up all night wondering when he would get home. Kakashi and Iruka loved each other for a long time then, and they celebrated it that night. That passionate night.
"It'll only be a few days."
The next day, though, Kakashi had a mission to go to. Iruka pleaded with him to stay, that something didn't feel right about this one. Something was undeniably wrong, and Kakashi should not go because Iruka was afraid he wouldn't come back. He said he didn't doubt Kakashi's strength, or his strategies, but he was simply afraid. He knew something was wrong.
"I love you. I promise you, I will come back alive. I promise."
He had promised. He had sworn to Iruka. They had even sealed the promise with one last kiss, one last fiery display of their affection towards one another. He had promised.
"I promise."
Kakashi never lied. He kept his promises. He was a true shinobi of Konoha. He was loyal, he was determined, truthful, brave… and he kept his promises.
"Don't wait up for me."
Then he was gone. Just like that. But Iruka did wait up for him. Each and every night he waited for him. When a few days came and a few days passed, Iruka began to resort to worrying. He worried non-stop, and the others began to doubt his sanity. He could be found at the mission desk, biting his nails, and mumbling incoherent words to himself. Once in a while, the word 'promise' floated from his lips and that was when Tsunade had sent him home to rest.
Iruka rested as well as any worried lover could. He cleaned, and he waited. He stared out the window, and he waited. He dreamt, and he waited.
But Kakashi didn't come home.
Then the doorbell rang, and Iruka, through with his worrying and ready to chastise the jounin for his late arrival, ran to answer the door. It wasn't Kakashi. Iruka wondered why he even thought it would be. Genma told him what had happened, and he'd whispered his condolences. Then he had left, giving Iruka a sympathetic glance over his shoulder.
"He promised me."
Iruka had mumbled, and slumped against the wall, cradling his head in his arms. He glanced up and stared at the shelves of books that lined the walls of Kakashi's living room, and he kicked them across the floor. "You promised!" He screamed, falling to his knees and sobbing.
It was in this way that Iruka was introduced to the harsh reality of a shinobi.
I promise.
A/N: Another sadfic. I'm sorry. -hides-
I don't own. Kakashi, Iruka, Tsunade, Genma, Naruto, and anybody/anything else I might've mentioned in this ficlet are all owned by Kishimoto. This isn't for profit. All I've got are my Shonen Jump magazines, so go away.
