Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, genius Kishimoto does.
A/N: Yaoi fangirl rendition of the foreboding pages 6 and 7 of manga chapter 420. This is unedited; pardon me for the errors
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The village was coming down to hell, thanks to Pein's clones whose generosity extended to certain results such as houses being reduced to ashes, Ninjas' corpses all over the streets, voices raised to ear-splitting decibel, general panic going overboard, overpowering stench of blood and soil invading every goddamn corner… Umino Iruka dangling within inches of getting murdered for refusing to give light on the 9-tailed beast's whereabouts. If truth be told, the owner of said beast had in the past lured more than enough danger to the town, thus piling more misfortunes and grievances to its history, which had harbored the demise of some of its greatest members.
Going back to the uproar taking place in the town, there was, believe it or not, at least one local soul who thought that the occasion wasn't constricted in inspiring general hysteria and woe. Kakashi Hatake had waited for this almost all his life. So there was Pein, wreaking havoc left and right, and showing off up and down and anywhere in-between, all the while employing his brilliant Rinnegan.
Or is he just a decoy/dummy/whatsofuckingever, Kakashi thought.
Whoever the fuck he was, the Jounin didn't seem to particularly care. If the goddamn nobody had the nerve to touch a hair of Iruka's head—or even had the audacity to fantasize about making contact at whatever degree of proximity with the Chunin—he had to really die, or at least not let Hatake Kakashi witness the particulars of his intentions. However, the Akatsuki bastard was unfortunate enough, or maybe unwise enough, to choose the execution of his solicitation in full view of the Jounin. So there was Pein, pulling some major threats, which, Kakashi was quite sure, could be considered as NOT mere verbal boasting.
"Where is the 9-tailed beast?" Pein asked, looking thoroughly imposing.
At this point, Kakashi was reciting under his breath some rehearsals of his last-minute, heroic, slick intervention. He was certain that his beloved Chunin would not yield a goddamn hint even under torture, and his predilections achieved reality upon Iruka's answer,
"I'm not telling." Iruka answered in defiance, which had in it an air of permanency.
"If you don't, I'll kill you."
How predictable and dumb. Kakashi almost blurted aloud. He craned his neck excitedly, and at the same time he was maintaining a clear awareness of the particularized demands of the scene; Pein was serious about cutting the life out of Iruka should he dare continue to hold his bearing.
"I said, I'm not telling."
"Very well."
So, without warning, without any precipitous ceremony, Pein drew forth a featureless wakisashi, from where, Kakashi couldn't tell, and started to drive it at full speed towards Iruka's chest. Taking into account the logistics of the turn of events, Kakashi sprang from his feet, before pelting towards where he ought to. As it was, his speed was more than adequate for the Akatsuki's armed hand, of course because, seconds later, Iruka found his face frozen one inch before the tip of Pein's blade, which was also divested of further motion, inexplicably. Upon impulse, Iruka protracted his face above his eye level, only to be greeted by his comrade's unexpected presence. This presence, if anything, was responsible for timely snatching him from what probably was certain death.
Kakashi's gaze traveled down the Chunin. It did not become immediately apparent to him that he had been standing there in a statuesque repose for more than ten seconds. Well, that was unnecessary, if truth be told, and that's not mentioning that the Akatsuki's wrist was still locked in his iron grip. In addition to his peculiar disposition, he didn't seem to have heard Pein utter a basic comment.
Should one care to inquire, this was what Kakashi had in mind at present. Yes, he meant to tell Iruka to leave the scene like this:
"Iruka, leave this to me. Save all the nearly-fallen warriors and find a safe hiding place. Don't come out until you've ascertained a clearance. I, for my part, shall eliminate this bastard to ensure your and the others' safety." After such dramatic display of sentiments, Iruka would say,
"But why, Kakashi? Shouldn't we join hands in this?"
Kakashi would imagine the Chunin's entreating expression. However, he had made up his mind. He had no belief in taking narrow chances, and still less in that of Iruka's ability to stand a chance against such a formidable opponent.
"I would've given everything to join hands with you on anything, except your safety. Go, Iruka, and I will be fine. When I'm done with this, I'll come to you and be with you… always."
With that, his eyes would be brimming with the tenderness of unnumbered, unquantifiable endearments, and so would Iruka speak,
"Promise me."
Needless to say he had consumed an unnecessarily huge amount of time over his cheesy and shameless reverie, the spectators, who so happened to be Iruka and Pein, were staring at him blankly. In time he shifted his gaze to its most frequent customer, the receiver of the tender tribute of his non-Sharingan-wielding eye, Iruka Umino. But the Chunin was eyeing him with a glance vaguely suggestive of some matter of immediate importance. With lips slightly parted asunder, the Chunin spoke,
"Kakashi."
Kakashi's response to this address was to remain lost in his trance, a state which would not have been altered by any violent intervention from the outside.
Pein slowly realized this was too much for his dignity. Fact was, he had been ignored for the last four minutes, which, for him, would not have been acceptable even granted the excuse that the ignorer had been a goddamn imbecile who had none of his five human senses working. But his offender wasn't an imbecile. As a matter of obvious fact, Hatake Kakashi's name had for so long been scattered abroad. Hence anyone in the Shinobi world who claimed to have not encountered his name was clearly the imbecile.
"Sharingan Kakashi, we finally meet." Pein expressed his greeting, the manner by which it was delivered was very much remindful of a death sentence.
Thankfully, the recesses of the Jounin's brooding was breached at last, just as he was beginning to visualize how accordingly well everything would proceed.
Who the hell is this disturber? Oh, the antagonist. Yeah, he's gonna play a principal role in my plans.
Kakashi decided against wasting any more of his precious glance on some more or less recondite reason. The reason happened to be Pein, mightiest among the Akatsuki. He glanced back at the Chunin. Imperceptibly quaking inside, he opened his mouth to utter that which his conscience and sentiments exacted. Yes, he was going to tell Iruka—
"Take the wounded man with you and get out of here. Leave this to me."
It flowed like a cold current of some homeless wind from his mouth. His tone was too bland, and its levity, he feared, rendered his whole request almost derisive and indicative of some uncaring superiority. Why, this was the complete opposite of what he had initially intended to convey! And he would not have uttered it under any circumstances, but then it had been uttered anyway! Despite desiring to say more, his voice tightened to a halt, not that of a graceful finality but of a startled pause. For the first time in his life he couldn't look at the Chunin, an activity, which until now, had been a constant necessity to him.
What a ruinous affair this all has turned out! He thought disconsolately. He wordlessly hurled to himself a significant number of curses , which, as far as everything was going, were mere additions to the infinite sum of his current inconveniences. So, having gained nothing but the knowledge that he had irrevocably failed to make himself appear to his comrade in novel and heroic colors, he began to distinguish from his chest a savage feeling of wrath towards Pein. Yes, you bastard are in for it. You really are gonna die here—
"Okay, good luck, Kakashi."
Iruka's parting words, which were suffused with the best of wishes, hit him like a frozen, merciless blast of strong wind. For a reaction, all he could manage to return the Chunin was a mute look of no particular significance, that is, if he were to be examined under a facial basis; inside, God knew what the Jounin was going through. And even more damning than anything so far was the fact that Iruka Umino had now vanished, retreated to safety, leaving him with less wits than a drunken bastard had.
So there, he couldn't allow himself to drop dead unless, of course, he could rest content in the knowledge that Iruka would never learn of his true feelings. Lame as it was, that was just how it should go. In the meantime, he had to take care of the Akatsuki bastard in front of him so that he could later on go about his business and finally confess to the Chunin, lest everything should run too late.
END