ovVvo

When he awoke, he found a well-worn crutch lying beside his futon, as well as simple onsen-style clothing. There was no sign of his backpack or the clothing he'd been wearing on the hike, much less the cell phone that had been in the pocket of the jeans he'd been wearing. He imagined that everything he'd brought had been lost. As he dressed, various bruises from his fall made him wince, but he felt better knowing that he wasn't injured so badly that he'd be bed-bound. His leg was the worst, a deep ache that made him glad for the crutch as he set out to explore.

He discovered he was in a shrine complex, a large one, as strange as it seemed to have one so far up the mountain and so inaccessible. It seemed in good repair, and had an extensive system of covered corridors leading between the buildings. The courtyard was freshly raked and free of debris, and the storm walls along the raised corridors and surrounding the verandas had been pushed aside so air could circulate freely. Fresh incense burned outside the haiden, thin whisps of smoke rising from sticks plunged into pristine sand, and there was a bathing house thick with steam from a large bath, which also fed into an outside pool ringed with large rocks and surrounded by cypress rising tall from soft ferns and bush bamboo.

He found a kitchen, and was grateful to see that the man had left rice and miso soup for him.

After eating, he continued to explore the complex. Everywhere he went he saw long-nosed tengu. Masks hung on the supports, some so old the features were nearly worn away and no sign remained of the red paint that must have once adorned them, others new and cheap-looking. The ends of eaves sported tengu faces, and the downspouts were in the shape of tengu, the water funneled through the nose and into long rain chains leading to the ground. A tengu leered over the entrance to the bath, and even in the garden, Iruka found a small tengu face carved into a twisted, obviously ancient maple tree.

But he didn't meet the man or his dogs, or anyone else, for that matter. No monks, no apprentices, no supplicants, no visitors – no one.

Finally, deciding he might as well explore the shrine grounds, he traded his slippers for some geta neatly lined up by the outer door and limped outside.

The day was hot, but not unbearably so, since the forest provided shade and the shrine was high enough on the mountain to catch breezes that didn't exist in the valleys.

Iruka followed a path that led downward to a torii gate hung with shimenawa. To the right of the path lay the small wayside shrine and huge boulder he'd seen just before the mudslide. Although he could have sworn the boulder had been whole the previous day, now it was cleft in two, the remains of seal ropes strewn on the leaves around its base or fluttering in the slight breeze where they still clung to the rock.

The earth just beyond the shrine was raw and bare where the mudslide had torn the mountainside. He shivered. He was lucky to be alive, given the size of the scar. There was no trace of the path he'd been following, and he realized he would have had no chance of surviving if the slide had occurred five minutes earlier than it had, and he'd been further down on the trail.

His rescuer stood in front of the shrine, head bowed, looking bored and strangely desolate. Iruka hesitated, reluctant to intrude on what appeared to be a private moment.

The man looked up, though he remained slouched. "Maa. Up and around?"

Iruka nodded. "Thank you for the clothes. And please forgive me. I didn't mean to interrupt."

He shrugged. "Just catching up." Iruka flushed under his sharp gaze. "How are you this morning?"

"Fine." He gestured toward the raw brown wound in the mountainside. "I can't thank you enough. You saved my life."

The man rubbed the back of his head and looked away.

Iruka made his way down to stand beside him at the shrine. "I didn't bring incense, but I made an onigiri to offer." He picked up a clean leaf and laid it in front of the shrine, then placed the onigiri on it.

The man was silent as Iruka gave his thanks, and remained silent after Iruka had made his final bow. Iruka found he didn't mind the other's presence. In fact, in some way, there seemed to be a sort of camaraderie between them, a shared instinct that kept them close and silent in the small clearing.

Iruka finally broke the silence. "'Kakushi,'" he read. "I've never heard of him. Is he a local kami?"

"He's the kami of the yamabushi who lived here."

"Yamabushi?" Iruka thought of the shrine complex. "So this is the site of a feudal martial arts shrine?"

The man slouched further. "Legend has it," he said in a tone that implied he was humoring Iruka, "that there once was an ascetic who lived here, whose mastery of the martial arts and the hidden ways was so great that the daitengu of the mountain challenged him to decide which would be kami. They fought for nine days and nine nights, until Kakushi sealed the daitengu in that boulder." He nodded at the broken stone.

"Kakushi. 'Hidden.'" Iruka looked at the boulder. "What does the legend say about what happened when the seal was broken?"

A smile twisted across the man's mouth. "It hasn't said anything. It just happened last night."

While Iruka had always respected the gods and tendered his duty to them, he knew he'd never had a particularly strong faith. Still, he glanced around nervously.

"Don't worry. You're safe enough," the man said. "Come on, let's go back to the shrine. I want to take a look at that knee."

"Ankle," Iruka corrected. Leg.

"Whatever." He started up the path and then paused. "You need help?"

"No. I'm fine." He needed to build his strength, and he'd already imposed on the man enough. "I'll be up in a bit."

The man shrugged and continued walking, while Iruka planted his crutch in the soft earth and followed, step by step.

ovVvo

By the time he made it back to his futon, Iruka was exhausted enough to be compliant when the man unwrapped the bandages from around his leg and prodded it.

"You should be able to walk to the next village in a few days," the man said, re-wrapping the bandage tightly. He stood. "Do you need anything else?"

Iruka shook his head. "I think I'll sleep for a bit, if you don't mind." He flushed under the man's bored gaze. "By the way, have you seen my backpack?"

The man shook his head. "You blush easily."

Iruka looked away, annoyed to feel his face get hotter. "Yeah, well. Do you have a phone I could use? I don't want my brother to worry."

"No phone. The evening meal will be ready around sundown. You know where the kitchen is."

Iruka turned back to ask him where the nearest phone might be, but the man was already gone. A few leaves swirled through the air where he'd stood.

I didn't realize I'd brought leaves in, Iruka thought. He made a mental note to himself to brush himself off more thoroughly before entering the shrine.

ovVvo

The evening meal had been simple: rice, miso soup with eggplant, and a few pickled mountain vegetables with which Iruka was unfamiliar. His host wasn't in the kitchen when he sat down to eat, but wandered in reading a book just as Iruka finished.

"Thank you for the meal. It was delicious."

The man smiled, arching his visible eye. "Good." The smile disappeared a moment later as he leant against the counter and continued to read.

Iruka debated trying to start a conversation, but settled for hobbling to the sink to rinse his dishes. He placed them in the drying rack and turned to find the man right behind him. He yelped.

The arched-eye smile flashed again. "You sound like one of my dogs when I accidentally step on his tail."

Iruka could feel color racing to his cheeks again. "You did that on purpose."

"Maybe." The man tilted his head, still smiling. "Up for a bath?"

Remembering the bathing room with its steaming onsen, Iruka nodded. "I think a soak could help."

"Mmm," the man said, wandering toward the doorway. "This shrine's baths are renown for their healing ability."

"I see," Iruka said, grateful the man seemed content with an ambling pace. "Any kind of healing in particular?"

"Just the usual. Arthritis, cancer, eternal life."

Iruka snorted. "How long do I have to soak if I want to live forever?"

"Less time than you'd think." The man paused as Iruka gingerly descended a few steps to the next corridor. "Legend has it that for every hour you soak, you add ten years to your life."

"An hour's a long soak, but maybe I'll give it a try." Iruka grinned, and the man's return smile somehow seemed more genuine.

"I can wash your back," he said.

Iruka nodded. "I can do yours, too."

They undressed in the changing room and picked up towels to take into the bath. The night was warm, so the steam from the onsen made the sweat stand out on Iruka's body, though it only seemed to add a light sheen to the other man's skin. They both washed, then the man wet a towel and sat behind Iruka.

The long, firm strokes and the rough cloth felt wonderful. Iruka relaxed into the touch.

"Quite the sensual man, aren't you?"

Even though the man's voice was teasing, Iruka flushed. "It feels good."

"Mmm." Warm water cascaded down his back. "My turn."

The man's build was as slim as Iruka had imagined, but without clothes, he realized he was all lean muscle, his body sculpted and hard. His skin was pale, with fine silver hair in a small trail at the base of his spine. Several faded scars marred its perfection, but didn't detract from what Iruka admitted to himself was a beautiful body.

"You must really work out," he said. He could feel the man's back stiffen under his cloth. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." The muscles relaxed somewhat, and Iruka carefully poured water over the man's shoulders to rinse the soap.

The man casually smoothed his hair over his left eye and stood. "Not much else to do around here. Besides, I like that you think I'm sexy."

"I didn't say that!"

"So cruel! It's not nice to snatch a man's fantasy away like that," he said with an exaggerated sigh. He waded into the bath. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah," Iruka said. The crutch was slippery on the wet floor, so he left it behind and limped to the bath.

The water was nearly too-hot. Iruka could feel his tight muscles begin to loosen and slid down until the water was up to his chin. "I've decided to call you 'Kakushi.'"

The man looked startled for an instant, his right eye opened wide before he closed it again and his expression slid into amused boredom. "Not that I care about blasphemy," he said, "but don't you think it's a bit presumptuous to call me a god?"

"If you don't like that name, give me another."

The man smiled and opened his eye. "Fine. Kakashi."

"Not much difference."

The eye closed, but the smile remained. "More than you'd think."

Iruka grinned. "Do you have a family name?"

"You're very curious, aren't you?" was the lazy reply.

"School teacher," Iruka volunteered. "But I get the hint. Kakashi-san."

"Just Kakashi is fine." Kakashi pulled a book from his towel and began to read.

Iruka wasn't sure if he should be annoyed or not. Kakashi seemed to ignore normal social interactions, even though he was undeniably Japanese and well-educated. Iruka wondered if he'd spent much of his life abroad and picked up Western habits.

He decided that he preferred to act in the manner he would normally. If Kakashi was offended, then he could leave. "I didn't see the dogs today. Is there a kennel somewhere?"

"They're around."

Iruka made a polite noise of acknowledgment. "There weren't any other people, either. Do you tend this shrine by yourself?"

Kakashi grunted.

Iruka took that as a yes. "It must be a huge task. Do you get many people visiting?"

"Are you going to ask questions the entire time we're bathing?"

"Probably."

Kakashi sighed and the book disappeared.

Iruka hid a smile. "This shrine is beautiful. I'm almost glad about the storm yesterday. I might not have seen it, otherwise. It's well-hidden from the trail." Kakashi's eye closed, so Iruka continued. "I imagine it must get lonely here."

Kakashi muttered something unintelligible.

"I guess maybe I'm just used to having a lot of people around me," Iruka said. He closed his eyes, too, letting his body drift in the hot water. "All of the kids and other teachers at the school, and Naruto at home, and then there's everyone at the dojo where I volunteer—"

"What dojo?"

Given Kakashi's unenthusiastic responses, Iruka was a little surprised at his interest. "It's a fairly large one. The current head of it is Sarutobi Hiruzen, though we all call him Sandaime-sama, since he's the third master who's headed it."

"Sarutobi, eh?" Kakashi smiled lazily. "He's still around?"

"You know him?"

"Mmm. We studied together for a bit."

"He practically raised me," Iruka said. "My parents died in an accident when I was twelve, and he took me in. He lets me volunteer with the younger kids at the dojo in return for giving my brother, Naruto, lessons."

Kakashi opened his eye again and looked at Iruka. "You teach martial arts? Which ones?"

"Just the basics," Iruka replied, embarrassed. "Theory, body stance, balance, types of weapons, simple kata. Once a child has a solid foundation, they're assigned to a discipline, depending on the child's aptitude."

Kakashi's smile looked almost fond. "Trust Sarutobi to tell the kids what to do instead of letting the brats decide for themselves."

Iruka chuckled. "Unless a child displays the right skills and mindset for it, Sandaime-sama doesn't allow them to choose their discipline because it's the one that they think is 'cool.' I try to teach the kids to respect all of the disciplines, how to balance the strengths and weaknesses of each against their own strengths and weaknesses. There's no dishonor to being good in defensive arts as opposed to following a discipline focused on offense."

"You've given this a lot of thought."

Iruka hoped that the heat explained away his flush. "Why set a child up to fail?"

Kakashi grunted and closed his eye.

Iruka lapsed into silence, too. He'd have to leave the bath soon; he could already feel the beginnings of light-headedness, but the heat felt so good that he wanted to stick it out as long as he could. Kakashi appeared to be asleep, his silver hair beginning to spring up in the humidity as it dried. Iruka couldn't figure out how he was okay with letting so much of it fall over the left side of his face, when he was having to brush his own clinging hair from his skin.

"Have you had your fill of staring?"

Iruka jumped, startled. "I'm sorry! You're right. It's rude."

"Maa. It's just natural."

"Why 'scarecrow'?"

Kakashi laughed and opened his eye. "You don't stop, do you?"

"Not usually," Iruka admitted.

"My father," a shadow seemed to cross Kakashi's face, and his voice took on a sardonic tone, "had a strange sense of humor. He worked with birds."

Iruka laughed. "What kind?"

"Crows, ravens, magpies mostly. Some of the smaller raptors, too."

"Wild birds?"

Kakashi shrugged. "He had a knack for birds. And dogs."

"You must take after him, with your dogs." Iruka stifled a yawn. "I think I'm going to have to get out."

"You haven't soaked up ten years, yet."

"Mmm." Iruka breathed deep. The steam had a slight metallic odor to it, but none of the rotten egg sulfur smell of some onsen. "Soaking up five will have to do. Otherwise I'll fall asleep and drown."

Kakashi arched an eyebrow and reached for his book again, but Iruka could see he was hiding a smirk. And something else he hadn't noticed.

Kakashi's left eye was bisected by a scar, one that ran through the closed lid. He'd kept it hidden with his hair, Iruka realized, but as his hair had dried, it had lifted in all directions, exposing the scar. Iruka opened his mouth to ask about it, but something made him stop.

"I was wondering… Do you have any books I could read?" he asked instead.

Kakashi grunted. "There are some in the cupboard in your room. Help yourself."

"Thanks." Iruka carefully climbed out of the bath and began to dry himself. He could feel Kakashi's gaze on him, though he kept his back to him. "I thought we just agreed that it was rude to watch someone in the bath."

"It's my bath. I'll make the rules," Kakashi replied. "Besides, I wanted to see if my memory was accurate."

Iruka could feel a full-body blush spread, but tried to brazen it out. "Well?"

"It didn't do you justice."

Shooting a sharp look at Kakashi, Iruka could feel his blush deepen. Kakashi smiled, both of his eyes arced closed.

"Pervert," Iruka muttered, but he couldn't prevent a small smile from escaping.

"Good night, Iruka-san. Or should I call you Iruka-sensei?"

"It doesn't really matter what I want you to call me, does it? You'll just call me whatever you want."

"Isn't it nice when consensus is reached?"

The self-satisfied tone in Kakashi's voice pulled a genuine smile from Iruka. "Good night, Kakashi-s—Kakashi." He wrapped his towel around his waist and headed toward the door.

"Good night, sensei."

Kakashi's tone oozed innuendo.