Authoress: and here's part two!! I'd like to give a huge thanks to Alystarryn-chan and BZ-chan for beta-ing this chapter…and a huge glomp to BZ-chan for dealing with all my late-night craziness! Also, I want to thank Teito13 for being the 100th reviewer to Scars Fade! As a reward, she gets to read this and future chapters before they are put up on FFN! And, if her response to this chapter was any indication, I think I might be getting some angry reviews filled with sniffling and demands to write the next chapter immediately (hint, hint)!!

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto…it'd be wonderful if I did…

Chapter Six

Iruka watched as three figures became a blur as they raced into the arena. He had met Genma and Aoba on any number of occasions, so he was not worried that he would be unable to prove himself to them. Hatake Kakashi, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. As he quickly surveyed his new surroundings, Iruka could not quell the strange surge of unease at the thought of confronting the infamous Copy Nin himself.

Trying his best to ignore the slight shaking of his fingers, Iruka pushed off the soft ground and raced towards the tree line. Having trained with his teammates in very similar surroundings, he knew exactly how helpful the foliage was in hiding his presence. He had become so adept at using his unique abilities to slip into the trees themselves that not even Neji could sense him when he moved from tree to tree, circling the genius and getting closer with each step. After finally reaching the teen, gently placing a blade at Neji's neck to show that he had won their contest in stealth, Neji had admitted that, though he could not pinpoint Iruka's position – that he could not even sense his energy in the slightest, even when Iruka stood mere inches away – he had felt a wave of apprehension. He had somehow instinctively known that he was being surrounded and was helpless to do anything about it; Neji had actually described it as feeling as though he was like some predator's next meal.

Letting out a slow, relaxing breath, Iruka placed a hand on the rough bark of the nearest tree, immediately sensing the glimmer of life. A part of him had been afraid that the entire arena was just an illusion and that he would not be able to use his unique jutsu, but the real tree told him that a great deal of energy and even more meticulous planning was done to create a real, miniature forest in the arena in a matter of days.

Bringing two fingers up to the front of his face, the chuunin focused on the gentle throb of energy deeply hidden underneath abrasive bark. Clinging to that life force, he felt his body changing, becoming more fluid than was humanly possible. The first time he accomplished this particular jutsu was purely on accident; when he leaned against a tree during his second exam, exhausted to the point of deliriousness, he had sensed that same ancient energy. Curious, he had reached out to the green energy, so unlike his own that he was immediately fascinated. The next thing he knew, his team was frantically searching for him, though Iruka could only wonder why they could not see him when he was right in front of them. When he finally passed out from chakra-depletion, they had discovered him. Apparently, as Shikamaru told him later, he just seemed to fall out of the tree itself, his body reforming from the bark as he collapsed to the ground.

Having worked on the ability a bit since then, Iruka surmised that, because of his affinity with water, he was able to, in so many words, melt into the tree somehow, in some form, exist in the delicate, yet highly structured network of tubes that transported water throughout the ancient foliage. Now, having perfected the strange jutsu, he was quite comfortable to observe from within the tree, somehow able to look all around him, as though he was the tree itself. At first, his perspective on the world around him was disconcerting, but he had since grown accustomed to being able to switch his viewpoint by traveling up and down the trunk, along branches, and even into leaves themselves with no more than a thought.

Within minutes, his jutsu paid off, as he not only saw but felt Aoba land on one of his branches. Studying the jounin for a moment, Iruka wondered what the best way of announcing his presence would be. The jounin glanced around, or at least he turned his head. Iruka could not be sure where he was looking because of the darkened goggles he wore.

Taking a deep breath, Iruka moved up to the branch the man was crouching on and followed the direction of his gaze. Curious, Iruka watched as a crow came to land on the man's shoulder and squawk into his ear. Strangely, the man nodded his head and then dismissed the bird with a wave of his hand.

"An interesting jutsu," he said softly as he moved to stand. Iruka cursed, realizing his mistake in not surveying the area for any life forms before performing his jutsu – he should have known better than to brush off animal-life, as another part of Tsunade's highly detailed testing arena.

Knowing he had been discovered, though Aoba was obviously still unsure how exactly how to get him out of the tree, Iruka recombined his body, slipping backwards out of the tree onto the ground. Looking up at the elite jounin's back, Iruka wondered how long it would take the man to sense him.

Iruka had miscalculated the skill of a man of Aoba's status as he watched the jounin disappear before his very eyes in a whirlwind of black, which Iruka almost immediately recognized as a flock of crows. Closing his eyes, he sent out a network of chakra, quickly locating his attacker as the older shinobi rushed him head-on.

Opening his eyes, Iruka saw the quick hand movements that, without a single thought, had the brunet teacher moving out of the man's line of attack. Though he had moved with an impressive speed, he could still feel warmth against his face as he flew to the side. Watching as a gigantic fireball flew by the exact spot he had been positioned in a fraction of a second ago, Iruka felt a twinge of fear.

He had not seriously considered the fact his jounin examiners were supposed to aim to heavily injure, if not kill, but Aoba was going all out, perhaps because they had met countless times in the Missions Office, or maybe because he did not consider Iruka worthy. For whatever reason, Iruka could smell the acrid aroma of burning hair and material as the fireball caught the tip of his ponytail and the back of his jacket on fire. Quickly moving, he stripped off the useless article of clothing, having had the foresight to put his weapons close on his person instead of neatly arranged in his pockets. He did not worry about his hair; his movements were so quick, they blew out the embers where hair had once stood.

"Not bad, Iruka-sensei," Aoba commented dryly as he put his hands down to his sides, no longer using them to form seals. Iruka was about to thank the man for the compliment, but all thoughts of showing his gratitude disappeared, when he heard the distinctive chink of metal against metal.

Narrowing his gaze, Iruka tried to locate the origin of the sound, knowing it had not come from the elite jounin. Up…Iruka had just enough time to think before instinctively jumping backwards. His hands flying in unconscious seals, Iruka felt a protective shield of water form around him just as a cloud of black, streaked with silver, descended upon him.

Strengthening the water surrounding him until it was as impervious as diamonds, lacing it with a mixture of human and demonic chakra, Iruka watched in a mixture of fear and rapture as the flock of crows surrounded him, whirling around him so quickly, it was almost impossible to see them clearly. Iruka was only able to catch a few glimpses that told him the source of the sound that had warned him. In each of their dark beaks was a sharpened kunai.

The chuunin's eyes widened; he could imagine how he would have been torn to shreds had he not put up his protective jutsu in just the nick of time. Aoba meant business. Iruka took a steadying breath as he sent a small ball of energy into the shield around him, watching as it rippled outwards in a beautiful display of waves. Feeding even more energy into the unique shield, Iruka took a quick glance to Aoba and could see the jounin raising an eyebrow at the strange jutsu he was witness to.

Recalling how most jounin disliked water-based jutsu, Iruka could only wonder what Aoba was thinking as he witnessed the ball start to grow, its once peaceful surface rippling and becoming miniature tidal waves that lashed out at the whirlwind of black birds surrounding him. Almost as though the water itself was affected by the vortex the crows created, it twisted around Iruka, tightening around his form, but stretching even farther out to knock some of the birds out of the sky.

Iruka could not imagine what Aoba now thought of him as the chuunin took a step forwards, his jutsu following him and growing closer to his body by the second. As the water finally came to settle around his body in a strange second-skin, Iruka released his intense concentration on the protective jutsu. Now a part of him, it would work on its own accord to shield him from damage. The water thinned out across his black clothing, seeping into the material until nothing more than a slight wetness revealed that the water was even there.

Aoba straightened up as Iruka started to slowly walk towards him, his face revealing his curiosity. Though the flock of crows still circled Iruka, they now knew to keep their distance from him, having seen several of their own felled by his jutsu.

Seeing his crows' unease, the jounin dismissed them as he smirked, knowing how few people had ever been able to make his summoned creatures so disconcerted, they would ignore his command to attack. The only people he could recall ever having such an effect were those whose abilities rivaled or went far beyond his own. This was the first time, however, that his crows had failed to inflict even a scratch on his opponent.

"Impressive," the jounin stated as he slipped a hand into the pouch at his side, pulling out two shuriken. Slipping them between his fingers, the shinobi took a step towards Iruka, gauging the speed he would require to overtake the young man and end this silly dream of Iruka passing the exam. It was not that he disliked the man – actually, far from it. He wanted to protect Iruka from being forced to see the kinds of things jounin encountered every day. The brunet was an excellent teacher – a treasured member of their village – and Aoba wanted to save Iruka from the pain he would feel if he passed the exam.

Iruka furrowed his eyebrows, reading the jounin's body language as easily as if Aoba had stated his intentions aloud. Realizing that he would have to be more than simply impressive to the elite jounin, in order for Aoba to pass him, Iruka tightened his hands into fists and let chakra begin to pool in his palms. Glad for the covering of foliage from the curious eyes of the audience, Iruka let a bead of pure demonic energy mix into his otherwise blue chakra, darkening it both in color and feeling.

Seeing the change in the examiner's stance, Iruka realized the man had noticed the difference, and his hesitancy to attack told the chuunin that he had sufficiently proven to the man he was a force to be reckoned with. Smiling, Iruka stepped forwards and opened one hand to reveal the result of his careful sculpting of his chakra. A small shuriken sat in the palm of his hand, perfectly formed to resemble the ones Aoba held in his hands.

Iruka did not have to see underneath his goggles to know that Aoba's eyes had widened as he studied the seemingly harmless shuriken. Biting back the chuckle he felt bubbling up in the back of his throat, the chuunin wondered if Mizutamari Mari would be proud of his twist on their lessons on how to form water into weapons. Using water as a medium was far easier than sculpting pure energy, but Iruka knew he could not hold back his abilities if he wanted to leave the arena as a jounin.

What are you, Iruka? Aoba had to ask himself as he studied the small shuriken in the man's outstretched hand. The only things he had ever seen come close to that weapon were near-impossible jutsu like the Rasengan. But, even then, the Rasengan was large and almost incapable of keeping its shape for a long period of time because of the nature of it. For the chuunin, without breaking a sweat, to hold that small, delicate shape was mind-boggling.

Aoba, despite his earlier decision to keep Iruka from passing, had to admit that the chuunin had proven himself with revealing his control over his own chakra. Instead of immediately telling the man he would make a great jounin, Aoba took a step towards the man, wanting to know how far Iruka's control went. Was the kind teacher capable of performing an attack with the impressive shuriken he held, or was it all for show? Taking a deep breath, Aoba ignored his instincts screaming for him to get far away from the academy teacher and, instead, raced towards him. The shuriken between his fingers dug into his skin with their dull edges as he tightened his hands. When he was mere feet away from the teacher, he abruptly changed directions, racing to the man's side before he lunged at him, raising his shuriken-studded fist in a powerful punch.

Before Aoba had a chance to register what happened, he found himself on the ground, his entire body trembling uncontrollably. Gasping for breath, Aoba found himself unable to fill his lungs without excruciating pain. For a moment, the jounin panicked as he looked upwards, but was unable to see anything except complete darkness. After a few moments of frantic blinking, he found his vision returning to him, hazy at first, but slowly clearing to show the face of the kind teacher looking over him.

"What the hell was that?" Aoba groaned, as he regained the ability to move his mouth. If he had to describe the ache in his body, he would have sworn he had just been run over by something, and it had, for reasons unknown to him, backed up and crushed him several times over for good measure. His bones screamed in agony and, having had his fair share of injuries in the past, Aoba understood that many of those pains were due to fractures.

Iruka rested a glowing hand on the jounin's chest, letting healing energy seep into the man's body and, with care he had honed over the years, slowly went to work repairing the worst of the man's injuries. Though he had been the reason for the array of aches and pains, Iruka knew he could not heal every wound unless he wanted to deplete his energy before even fighting his second examiner.

"A jutsu - a protective jutsu I put around myself. You really shouldn't have tried to punch me," Iruka replied as he sat back on his heels, studying Aoba's crushed right hand with furrowed eyebrows. It was not simply that the man's hand had been shattered to the point only someone of Tsunade's medical skill could save it, but also that the shuriken he had been holding had punctured through his palm, going straight through bone and tendon. That would not have been so strange in itself, but what made Iruka hesitantly reach out to touch the extremity, was the way the metal had lost its form, melting until it encased the back of the jounin's hand in a sick mockery of a plated glove.

Aoba let out a hiss of pain, as Iruka lifted his hand to better study the wound. Letting his gaze travel to his hand, the jounin cursed as his eyes widened. Never before had he seen such an injury. Whatever Iruka's protective jutsu entailed, it was most certainly effective in keeping him from harm.

"I am not prone to attacking fellow jounin. I wanted to see if you could control that chakra-shuriken of yours," Aoba commented, smirking despite the pain racing through his body. Iruka's mouth dropped open as the teacher slowly realized what the man's statement meant. "And I didn't even get the chance to see it..."

"If you had asked, I would have told you 'somewhat.' I cannot throw it yet, but it is as destructive as the Chidori and Rasengan if I was to make contact," Iruka replied in a soft tone, almost reproving Aoba for his actions as he shook his head. "You could have been killed if I hadn't had the sense to get rid of the shuriken before you even attacked."

"Then I'm indebted to you, Iruka," Aoba stated with a cough, his chest wracked with pain from his sudden movement. Iruka sighed as he carefully propped the jounin up, pushing something behind the elite jounin's back that kept him sitting up. From the feel of the soft cushion, Aoba guessed it to be Iruka's jacket that he had taken off at the beginning of their fight. "Now, you better go show Genma and Kakashi up. And I suggest not reusing anything I've seen – they are bound to have been watching our fight, and gauging your abilities."

"I was planning on that. I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to die on me," Iruka replied, smiling at the elite jounin. The seriousness of his tone made Aoba realize that his injures were far more serious than he had first surmised. For the teacher to admit he had been worried of that happening, Aoba knew he had been knocking at death's door for a moment, and probably would have died, had Iruka not rushed to begin healing him. Smirking, the elite jounin knew that, if it had been anyone else, they would not have wasted precious energy to save his life. It was his own fault he was so badly injured; he had underestimated Iruka and had forgotten about that slight sheen to the teacher's wet skin that had frightened his crows.

Though protective jutsu were not uncommon, Aoba had been unable to sense it once it took the form of Iruka's body, melding into his very skin, so he had brushed it off as, not a form of protection, but a strange jutsu that he had never seen nor heard of before.

"Good luck, Iruka," Aoba stated calmly as he shifted his head to watch the brunet slowly stand up, his features unreadable, though Aoba had the sinking sense Iruka would have a far more difficult time with Genma and Kakashi. If for no other reason, Genma would want to know the full extent of Iruka's abilities before passing him…and Kakashi…Aoba closed his eyes, not wanting to know what Kakashi would do when he felt that strange dark energy that had pulled the elite jounin in towards Iruka without caution, attacking and nearly losing his life because he was curious what kind of energy it had been that he sensed.

Opening his eyes again, Aoba lost the ability to breathe as he took in the teacher's form. Kneeling at his side, Iruka had looked much the same, but as he stood to leave, Aoba caught glimpses of features that were anything but human. There were three deep slits in the man's powerful neck that did not bleed. If anything, they looked like they were meant to be there and were not the result of injury. Shifting his gaze over the rest of the brunet, he saw long fingers that ended in impossibly sharp nails. The rest of Iruka's features, too, did not settle well with the elite jounin. His skin and hair had changed colors so subtly that, had he not been studying Iruka mere minutes ago, he wouldn't have even noticed them. The man's facial features, too, had changed ever so slightly – lengthening, narrowing, and sharpening – to give him an almost inhuman look. As he watched Iruka walk away, Aoba found himself asking, for the second time: what are you, Iruka?

--

Genma raised an eyebrow as he felt a distinctive change in the air around him. Almost as soon as he had made sure Aoba would survive his injuries, he had returned to the middle of the forest where he had already set up a massive trap. Thankful that he had the sense to over-do his ambush, the jounin looked up at the sky as he recalled how, in the blink of an eye, Aoba had been thrown to the ground by an almost invisible force with such strength that, for a moment, the jounin had been tempted to go check for life. It was amazing Aoba had survived such injuries – then again, he knew Iruka's quick healing had a great deal to do with it. Had he not seen it with his own eyes, he would have doubted Iruka was capable of inflicting such damage, much less to react so quickly as to pull the elite jounin from the brink of death.

Chewing on his senbon thoughtfully, Genma could not help but wonder where Iruka had gained such amazing abilities and such destructive power. He had seen something come off of the chuunin, rippling in the air and surrounding an unsuspecting Aoba and then, before Genma had realized that his friend was in danger, Aoba was at the bottom of a crater that his own body had formed. Anyone being thrown with that much force should have been liquefied, by all laws of physics, but Iruka somehow saved his friend from death. Perhaps it was that Iruka somehow held himself back, or maybe it was just his quick reaction, his hands beginning the healing jutsu even before Aoba hit the ground.

Hearing a crunch of gravel beneath feet, Genma shook his head, knowing he could not be distracted, having seen Iruka fight an elite jounin and win. It would be unforgivable – and almost unheard of – if Iruka bested him as well. Turning to look into the densely wooded area he had chosen to lay in wait, Genma found an eyebrow raising, his senbon freezing in his mouth, as he watched Iruka gingerly walking across the ground, his feet somehow not detonating the small warehouse-worth of explosives.

"Genma-san," Iruka greeted with a wave, his tone grating on the jounin's nerves. He did not seem to care that he was walking across a literal minefield without a single misstep. Genma felt his eye twitch, recalling the small fortune he had dished out when preparing for the final exam. He and Aoba had disagreed in Iruka's worthiness of passing. Unlike his best friend, Genma was willing to judge Iruka on the abilities he showed, hence the trap that Iruka was walking straight through. Had he been a normal shinobi, he should have set off at least one bomb by now, no matter how careful he had been. Genma had created a network of tripwires that were impossible to avoid.

With a frown, the jounin suppressed the urge to wipe the smile off of the chuunin's face. It wasn't just that Iruka was able to step perfectly, but that he was somehow able to avoid the invisible strands above ground that created a deadly web extending throughout the entire area. It was physically impossible to miss every wire, but the chuunin was somehow able to accomplish the unthinkable.

Watching him for a moment, Genma nearly dropped his senbon when he saw exactly how Iruka was dodging the clear wires. As the chuunin walked closer to him, Genma could see how his body seemed to ripple with each movement. If he had to describe what he was seeing, he would have sworn that Iruka was not flesh and blood, but something far from a solid being, perhaps a liquid, if he had to put a word to it. His body did not trip the wires because, against all logic, Iruka was walking straight through them.

Those fluid movements did not stop Iruka from walking slowly, as though he still was in some kind of danger. Genma quickly realized why; no matter how liquid-like his body was, he still had weight, which meant he could still set off the explosives below his feet that just needed some pressure on them. Smirking, the jounin waited until Iruka made his way through the forest of mines and came to stand still at the edge of the tripwires.

"I put a lot of effort into that," Genma stated with a grumble, as he watched the chuunin take a step away from the invisible wires, somehow knowing that this small area was the only safe place in this section of the forest. Iruka chuckled at his words before bowing in a quick apology. "I saw what you did for Aoba…actions speak louder than words, Iruka-sensei."

"Even if I had used up all of my chakra saving his life, I still would have," Iruka responded, understanding that Genma deeply respected him for healing Aoba, instead of letting him die like so many other shinobi would have done. "I didn't think that he would have attacked so quickly. It was pure instinct."

"I do not blame you…and your attack was not entirely pointless. Now I know to keep my distance from you, but after all of this is over, you're going to have to tell me how you dodged all those tripwires," Genma said, before sucking on his senbon for a moment. Without warning, he spit the sharp object out of his mouth and smirked as he watched the chuunin easily dodge the pointed stick hurtling towards him. Almost as soon as Iruka shifted to get out of the senbon's path, his eyes widened and the teacher realized his mistake. Genma quickly took cover as his senbon landed in the minefield, its weight pressing directly down on one of his larger, but extremely sensitive, explosives.

Iruka cursed as he took several quick steps to distance himself from Genma's trap, wishing he'd had the sense to recall the man was rumored to have been able to deflect kunai by simply spitting a senbon. Knowing that this was the man's plan all along, the brunet quickly found himself performing several jutsu as he got as far away as he could. The pounding of his heart seemed to slow, as did the world around him, as Iruka turned back for a moment when he heard an audible click coming from the minefield.

Dropping to the ground as he felt his body lose its form, seeping into the gravel and dirt as quickly as he could, Iruka not only heard, but felt, the bomb go off. The ground shook as though it was an earthquake and, for a moment, Iruka swore he could hear cries from the surrounding arena. Focusing his gaze on the minefield once the dry heat dissipated overhead, Iruka quickly understood their dismay. The entire forest that he had just walked through was gone, replaced by deep depressions that revealed that explosion would have killed anyone who had not gotten out of its way.

Iruka quickly pulled himself back out of the ground, his head reeling from the speed he was recombining his body with. Momentarily lurching as he prayed his world would right itself quickly, Iruka sensed movement. Instinctively arching his body forwards, using one hand firmly placed on the ground to keep his balance as his body kept sending him signals the ground was wobbling, Iruka heard the whisper of metal cutting through air a mere hairsbreadth above his curved back.

Before he consciously thought of any plan other than saving his life, Iruka twisted his body, planting both of his hands on the ground as he kicked his legs up, flipping over and connecting with something solid. Hearing the crack echo throughout the now decimated forest, Iruka momentarily wondered if he had broken something, or if it had been a bone of Genma's that made the sickening sound.

Pushing himself back up to a standing position, Iruka spun around and found himself staring at a log with a raised eyebrow. Kawarmi no jutsu he thought as he felt the hair rising on the back of his neck and, without so much as a warning, the chuunin dropped back to the ground; this time, there was no sound accompanying the blade speeding above him. The only warning he got was the instinct that something or someone was behind him.

Twisting his body as he rolled several times to escape powerful attacks that shook the ground, Iruka finally found himself able to leap back up only to be hit squarely in the chest by a rock-solid fist. Flying back several feet, Iruka dug his feet into the ground to stop himself before he landed back in the minefield. Still sliding backwards, Iruka threw himself forwards, thrusting his fingers into the gravel, in an attempt to slow himself down faster.

Ignoring the screams of protest from his sensitive fingers, Iruka bit back the cry that came to the back of his throat. Instead, he gritted his teeth and dug his fingers even deeper into the ground until he left claw marks in the dirt that were stained a morbid shade of scarlet. Closing his eyes, Iruka willed himself to stop, which he finally did the moment he felt his heels gently touch one of the tripwires. Thankfully, the force was not enough to set off another blast, so Iruka let out a sigh of relief as he cautiously moved forwards, before his good luck could run out and the explosives started going off.

"That was close!" Genma called from a safe distance away from the minefield, his tone joking and, for no real reason, it made Iruka growl softly. Glancing down at his hands, Iruka winced as he looked over the shredded and bloody digits that had saved him from being blown to bits. Iruka studied them for a moment, wondering when Mizutamari Mari's protective jutsu would start taking effect and heal his self-inflicted injuries, but his eyes started to widen when the burning healing never began.

It had been so long since he had to actually deal with the pain of injuries because of something he had done that Iruka could only stare at his hands in a sick fascination. Pushing away any questions about his lack of instantaneous healing, Iruka looked up to the examiner chewing on a new senbon, looking at him appreciatively.

Knowing now was not the time to wonder about his lack of demonic healing, Iruka tightened his bloodied hands into tight fists, not caring that his hands cried out in pain at even the smallest of movements. Narrowing his gaze, the brunet felt a surge of dark hatred towards the elite jounin now smirking at him.

Grinding his teeth together, Iruka could feel the sharpened tips of his once flattened molars. Unable to help himself, Iruka mirrored the jounin's smirk and felt a wave of satisfaction at the man's widening eyes, filled with a mixture of unease and fear. The realization that Genma was now wary in his presence was a delicious one, Iruka had to admit, as he watched the man sidestep, no longer taking his eyes off of Iruka's form.

"What are you, Iruka?" Genma made the mistake of asking, as he focused on Iruka's altered features. No longer did the man resemble the gentle academy teacher he knew him to be. No, now Iruka looked positively demonic with the cold, calculating look he was giving Genma. Not only was it the darkness of his eyes, but his sharpened teeth and, as Genma watched the chuunin, he heard a soft hissing sound come from the man's torn hands. For a moment, taking his gaze off of Iruka's face, he looked down and saw that, where once were mangled digits, now were long fingers that, though still coated in a thin layer of blood, were obviously whole and uninjured.

"Do you really want to know the answer?" Iruka asked quietly, his voice no longer resembling his once gentle tone. No, now Genma could hear a tinge of disgust, mixed with quite a bit of sarcasm. Knowing this was not the normal Iruka, he could only cautiously study the man, waiting for him to make the first move.

Genma reached into his pouch, picking out a handful of delicately etched senbon, knowing that he could not underestimate Iruka like Aoba did. He had the feeling that he would not get the same healing treatment, now that he was on Iruka's bad side. Pulling out the small weapons from his pouch, Genma quickly ran through several scenarios, none of which were very hopeful for Iruka's future. Having seen what Iruka was capable of – and now looking into those unfeeling eyes – Genma no longer held himself to his promise as an examiner. Now, he was an elite shinobi protecting his village from a powerful threat to their safety. He did not really want to admit it, but he had to ignore his long-held impression of Iruka as a kind person and now look at him as an enemy. No Konoha shinobi could have such an evil gaze without having some traitorous ideas.

"I'm not a danger to the village…" Iruka said, his voice deepening from what it once sounded like. Had he not been looking at Iruka as he spoke, Genma would have never placed that rumbling sound as the teacher's voice. It was not only the deepness, but the lack of feeling, that put Genma on edge. Tightening his fingers around his senbon, Genma took a step towards the chuunin teacher, wishing that anyone other than him had been picked to test Iruka.

Taking a deep breath, Genma prayed that Kakashi would forgive him for what he was about to do. He knew about his friend's affections and, though he had no idea what had happened between the two men, he had the sinking feeling Kakashi still harbored something for Iruka. God, Kakashi was going to kill him if he missed his target. Running his finger along the almost invisible engravings in the senbon, he found the right end and stuck the small stick in his mouth, running his tongue along the end.

Having learned the hard way that he had to hit the jugular, or else risk killing his target, Genma took a moment to aim with the astonishing accuracy and precision he was famed for. Without a word to the chuunin, he, in one fluid movement, pulled the poisoned senbon from his mouth and threw it.

Genma let out a sigh of relief when his shot rang true, hitting the chuunin in the throbbing vein in his neck. Almost as soon as the small pick pierced his skin, Iruka's hand went up to his throat, clutching the tiny weapon with trembling fingers, and the teacher took a stumbling step backwards.

The elite jounin began to move towards the brunet, trying to mentally calculate how long it would take his poison to knock someone of Iruka's size and abilities, unconscious. The fact that he had not passed out the moment the senbon pricked his skin, surprised Genma. The fact that he had yet to fall to the ground, had given the jounin pause. There was a dose of poison in that senbon large enough to knock someone like Asuma or Kakashi out within a second. For Iruka to still be standing, it was beginning to frighten Genma.

Staring at the chuunin, Genma lost the ability to breathe as the man's dark eyes looked up at him. No longer the soft doe eyes of the teacher, those orbs smoldered a dark color that made the jounin swallow heavily, as he realized his attack had only served to piss off the brunet far more than he had ever thought possible.

Iruka slowly pulled the senbon out of his neck, glancing down at the trickle of blood that slid down the sharply pointed end, creating a droplet that fell to the ground and was quickly soaked into the dry earth. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the slightly hazy feeling. He understood exactly what Genma had just tried to do, which caused him to tighten his fingers around the thin strip of metal, snapping the weapon in two before it had a chance to bend under the strength of his fingers.

Sucking in a sharp breath of air, Iruka tried to ignore the frighteningly dark wave of anger that ran through him as he threw the senbon to the ground in disgust. Taking several deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down – much like he did when Konohamaru was being his usual aggravating self – Iruka felt those unusual sensations lessen, his blood no longer boiling in hatred for the jounin who was just doing his job.

Any hopes Iruka had of returning to his usual self were lost when he heard the unmistakable sound of a kunai being pulled from its pouch. As he observed the jounin, he saw Genma reveal a sharp blade at his side. Narrowing his gaze, Iruka followed the kunai as the jounin shifted, taking an offensive stance. Before either of them had the chance to blink, Genma had moved, racing towards Iruka with the 'lethal force' the jounin exams were infamous for. This time, however, that force was not being held back in the slightest in hopes of keeping a tester alive.

Iruka dodged the first stab with ease, contorting his frame, bending backwards, yet still keeping perfect balance. As he felt, more than saw, Genma begin to slice the kunai downwards, he dropped one leg down, his hips rotating, as he kicked outwards, hooking his calf around Genma's knees and dragging the man to the ground in one swift motion. Before the jounin had the chance to get back up, Iruka moved out of stabbing distance. As the older shinobi stood back up, Iruka reached into his tight-fitting uniform for the concealed blade. Pulling out the thin scythe from his shirt, Iruka gripped its shortened handle, glad he had thought to bring it along for his exam. Though he had never used it other than for training with Mizutamari Mari a number of years ago, the dull blade was the perfect thing to focus his energy on.

He could easily create something like a shuriken, but it was useless on someone as fast and as powerful as an elite jounin. This blade, on the other hand, was something Iruka knew he could use to fight. Holding it, gripping its well-worn handle that was stained a dark color from the number of times he had cut himself using it, Iruka recalled his years with Mizutamari Mari fondly. Tightening his long fingers around the wood, careful of the sharpened nails that seemed to grow before his very eyes, Iruka remembered his first lesson with the demon after the deaths of his family.

No, you stupid human! You are going too easy on your opponent if you are not aiming to kill!

But Mizutamari Mari-sensei, I don't want to kill them.

Then they will kill you, gaki…

Iruka breathed in through his nose as he closed his eyes, smelling the moisture in the air and tasting the electricity of the energy racing through it. Opening his mouth ever so slightly, the brunet ran his tongue along unnaturally sharp teeth. Though he had grown accustomed to the slight changes in his features from the number of times it occurred during the jounin exams, Iruka still felt a shiver of delicious wickedness, as he acknowledged that those changes turn him into something beyond human.

He never understood Mizutamari Mari when the demon told him with certainty that Iruka would one day come to love the knowledge that he was not just an ordinary, weak human. He was not bound by human limitations, according to the demon, and the day he came to appreciate that fact would be the most glorious day in his life. Opening his eyes as he looked to Genma, seeing the pale blue energy pulsing through the elite jounin, Iruka wished Mizutamari Mari had used another word than 'glorious.' What he felt, as he let his energy begin to seep out of the hand holding the scythe, encircling the otherwise harmless instrument with honed, razor-sharp chakra, was far beyond glorious. It was ecstasy – it was a high unlike anything Iruka could have ever imagined.

Glancing down at the weapon in his hand, Iruka could see the rippling energy as it turned the curved blade into something closer to a katana in length. The edges of the weapon now were white with pure, sharpened energy, while the rest of the blade was a strange color of violet. Never before had he been able to control the demonic chakra well enough to use it as part of his arsenal, but something had given him the strength to do so now. Perhaps it was because Genma had tried to kill him; Iruka was unsure what had pushed him to this level, but he did not care any longer. All he cared about was continuing this soaring feeling.

"Genma…get out of here." Iruka looked up from his blade with a raised eyebrow when he heard a deep voice, deathly serious in its tone. He couldn't help but smirk when he saw the last of his examiners land on the ground before him, crouching down so nothing other than a streak of silver hair was visible other than the billowing folds of his pale Suna uniform.

"Like hell, Kakashi," Genma responded, as he tightened his grip on his kunai, his jounin instincts screaming that he could not leave a friend alone with this creature – whatever this being was that Iruka had turned into. Refusing to take his gaze off of the brunet in front of him, Genma could only tell Kakashi was glaring at him from the shiver that went down his back.

"He is right, Genma. My fight is with Hatake-san," Iruka said softly, his voice returning to the gentle, sweet words of the chuunin so many cared for. The teacher could not explain why, but he knew that there was a reason that, upon sight of that silver hair, he felt a wave of hatred wash over him.

You were the one I forgot, Hatake Kakashi… Iruka realized, though he could not understand why he would forget anything about the enigmatic jounin. As the man slowly stood up, Iruka found himself looking into the almost fully-masked face of a man the entire village revered as one of the greatest shinobi of their generation. His customary black mask and Konoha uniform was gone, replaced by a pale scarf and equally light-colored outfit. The sleeves of his unfamiliar uniform were tied up, out of his way, and the loose folds of his shirt bunched up against his torso, where two matching sheathes were crisscrossed, the hilts rising up above his strong shoulders.

Iruka looked back to Genma, who seemed to not care that this was no longer about the jounin exams. Lifting a hand, he hardly had to give more than a thought for his energy to create a small wave, invisible to the naked eye, reaching towards the elite jounin. Taking a calm, deep breath, Iruka used that moisture in the atmosphere to give his otherwise wispy energy form, and increase its size to become an astonishing monstrosity.

Kakashi furrowed his eyebrows, sensing something unusual was going on. It was not only the air around them that seemed to change, but he could see the amusement glittering in Iruka's eyes, as the teacher studied Genma with interest.

"Genma! Move!" Kakashi cried, as he pulled up his hitai-ate, clearly seeing the swirling blue energy forming a tsunami-like wave, directed towards the other jounin. Unable to see what Kakashi had, Genma took a moment to look to Kakashi questioningly, but almost immediately realized his mistake, when Iruka's attack tore water from the air, creating a wave that anyone could see.

Feeling the barest of smirks pull at the corner of his mouth, Iruka watched, unfazed, as the wave cascaded towards the elite jounin, throwing Genma back instead of drowning him. Iruka found it more entertaining to watch the man fly through the air than be easily crushed by the weight of the water, so he felt a surge of sweet revenge when Genma was thrown towards the remaining parts of the forest, his body tearing through several trees, before Kakashi's quick form was able to catch up with him, and grab the limp body out of midair.

The distance between him and the two jounin was great enough that Iruka knew a normal human could not watch the jounin, but he could clearly see Kakashi laying his motionless comrade down on the ground, his fingertips lingering on the elite jounin's neck. Feeling a smirk creep up on him, the chuunin nearly laughed when he saw the dirty look Kakashi shot him as the silver-haired man stood back up, his entire body radiating a hatred that, even by demonic standards, was impressive.

Iruka made the mistake of blinking his eyes, losing sight of Kakashi. Raising an eyebrow, the brunet could not help but feel a new rush. He somehow instinctively knew that, if anyone was able to challenge him, it would be the jounin that was now rushing at him so quickly, not even Iruka's enhanced vision could keep up with him.

Of course, Kakashi must have not known that Iruka trained with Gai. Using his remaining senses, Iruka was able to judge the jounin's position from the change in the air, and the sound of his near-soundless feet pushing off the now moistened ground. There! Iruka leapt backwards, feeling a powerful fist brush against his shoulder, but still missing its target. Almost immediately, Iruka found himself twisting to dodge another attack – this time, however, it was a perfectly-executed roundhouse kick.

Unable to contain his laughter, Iruka found himself immensely enjoying this sparring match. With each swish of material, each whistling of air rushing past his body, Iruka felt the tension rising in the jounin. His hatred was almost palatable, as Kakashi's movements came closer – more powerful – with each stroke. Unlike normal people, Kakashi was not tiring as their bout turned into a test of speed and endurance.

Despite his demonically-enhanced senses and reflexes, Iruka found those punches and kicks coming closer and becoming more accurate every passing moment. Though he and Kakashi were both a blur to anyone watching, the jounin was somehow able to pick up speed as they moved in their deadly dance. Realizing that the man's Sharingan was uncovered, Iruka let out a bark of laughter. Kakashi was copying his movements, able to predict where Iruka would move next or perhaps even able to know his movements several seconds in the future. Vastly impressed with the man's abilities, Iruka took a step backwards and did not move when Kakashi's fist came barreling towards his torso. Instead, he easily caught the punch and simply held the tightened knuckles against his palm, his claws digging into skin heavily tanned from time out in the sun.

"Why, Iruka?" Kakashi asked, his voice choked with a number of emotions that the brunet no longer knew the names to, much less was he able to recognize them other than as something he considered weak. "You nearly killed him."

"Oh, I didn't?" Iruka questioned, as he studied the jounin mere inches away from him. Kakashi was panting heavily, his body obviously starting to catch up with his demanding attacks. Raising an eyebrow, Iruka wondered, if he had not killed Genma, why Kakashi was attacking him with such vigor now. "Well, that's two down in either case," he egged the older man on, smirking when he heard the growl erupt from the back of Kakashi's throat.

"And to think I was going to ask for your forgiveness," Kakashi forced out in a sneer, as he looked into eyes that were darker than he remembered. Iruka's features had changed, but they certainly were not the changes a year could accomplish. No, his facial features were almost vulpine in appearance. They were too sharp, too narrow, to be considered human, but there was something also achingly beautiful about him. Kakashi, for a moment, wondered what had happened to make Iruka like this. He was not the kind, compassionate teacher he had forged a friendship with. No, this was the hardened creature he had caught glimpses of when he had finally realized there was something inhuman about Iruka.

"Forgive you?" Iruka asked, masking his curiosity with sarcasm, as he studied the jounin. There was something in Kakashi's eyes that told him the silver-haired man was telling him the truth – there was a reason. The Copy Nin had done something that required him to apologize. Searching his foggy memories, Iruka felt a headache coming on from the exercise, but he found no such event that would require him to forgive Kakashi.

Slowly releasing Kakashi's fist, Iruka stepped backwards, observing the jounin under a new light. Whatever he had forgotten dealt with this man…something he had done. What Iruka now felt driven to discover was exactly what it was that Kakashi had done to him.

"What happened to you, Iruka?" Kakashi questioned softly, as he looked into the chuunin's eyes. As he watched, those dark orbs softened, resembling something much closer to their customary brown shade. The rest of his features, too, changed back to those of the academy teacher, and Kakashi couldn't help but feel a slight moment of relief. Whatever happened to Iruka was not permanent, and Kakashi could not help but be thankful for that small blessing.

"Aren't you going to fight me, Hatake-san?" Iruka asked, as he folded his arms across his chest, his scythe still pulsating with energy, but it was now bluer in color than anything else. Keeping his lips firmly over his teeth, though he still kept his tongue against slightly sharpened points, Iruka had to will himself to use his human chakra. Understandably, his demonic chakra had the jounin on edge and, for reasons Iruka did not fully understand, he wanted the man relaxed enough to explain what had happened between them. If that meant pretending for a few moments, so be it.

"Answer one question for me, Iruka and I will fight you," Kakashi stated, before taking a deep breath. Letting his hands fall to his sides, he contemplated the brunet in front of him. As he looked into those chocolate eyes, he posed his question, "Did you ever care for me?" Just the question itself hurt him to ask it, but Kakashi had to know. He had to find out before Iruka went off and married Anko and had the perfect little family he deserved.

"I feel nothing for you," Iruka said truthfully, though he had to bite back the added comment on how he could not feel anything for someone he did not know. For good measure – and also to see how far he could push the jounin – Iruka added "I never did…"

Apparently those three words were more than enough to throw Kakashi over the edge. Narrowing his gaze, the jounin quashed any depressing emotions, before they had a chance to even register in his mind. Studying Iruka, he could still feel that old attraction towards the younger man, but there was something else there alongside it – hatred.

"Defeat me and I will pass you" was all Kakashi said, before he stepped backwards and started forming a rapid sequence of hand seals. Iruka almost immediately recognized the jutsu and, without a single word to the jounin, he performed his own unique skill.

Using carefully mixed amounts of his energies, Iruka shaped a form that was far from the scythe, the shuriken, or any other weapon he had forged before. No, this one had to be perfect. Somehow knowing that Kakashi was unable to sense the delicate jutsu he and Mizutamari Mari had created in the past few years, Iruka smirked as he glanced over at the jounin, seeing that Kakashi was finally done with his seals. Waiting until the jounin finally looked to him, Iruka felt his body ripple as he started putting his plan into effect. Without any warning, the brunet's muscular frame was torn in two, each half reforming into a whole being – identical to the figure standing next to him.

Kakashi watched this with both his natural eye and the Sharingan, but he found himself in the same situation as the last time he had seen two of Iruka. Not even the swirling red eye was able to tell him which one was the real person, and which was his illusion. Much like last time, however, Kakashi instinctively felt a pull towards one, but not the other.

Knowing this would be information better kept from the chuunin, Kakashi attacked both of them, splitting his Katon between both of them, though he was not surprised when they easily evaded it before rushing him. Had it not been from training with both Gaara and Kankuro, Kakashi would have been at a disadvantage having two opponents, but both Sabaku had their unique skills that gave them the ability to have a double that did not drain their energy like it would other shinobi.

Shifting to dodge one Iruka's punch, Kakashi found himself stepping backwards into the attack of the second. The only thing that saved him was a fast movement as he unsheathed both his swords, and used the swords to block the scythe. Cursing almost immediately, Kakashi saw the energy surrounding the curved blade as he felt his own weapons give, easily being cut into pieces from the sharpened chakra blade.

That move, however, had given him the time to move out of the way, but Kakashi still found himself at the mercy of the first Iruka – the one he was considering to be the real one, if his instincts were right. Twisting his body, the silver-haired shinobi was just able to escape the kunai pointed at his heart, but he could still feel the blade tear through the side of his ribcage. It was a shallow wound, Kakashi instantly surmised, which was due not only to his reflexes, but because his thick uniform had made his attacker miscalculate his size. If it had been a year ago, Kakashi was sure that Iruka's blade would have left a bad mark, but he had slimmed down a great deal since then, so it just barely grazed his side, tearing more at his clothes than anything else.

Realizing his mistake, the first Iruka's eyes narrowed, and he attacked again, this time his movements were vicious in their speed. Kakashi barely had the time to breathe between attacks, but he nearly forgot about the doppelganger until he ducked, feeling several of his hairs being shortened by an energy-infused blade.

Quickly realizing this was not like his sparring matches with Gaara and Kankuro –both of these figures were acting on their own accord, and not being controlled by one or the other – Kakashi knew exactly what he had to do. With what was left of his katana, he sliced at one Iruka, driving the brunet back far enough to give Kakashi some room.

The second Iruka, however, still attacked him and, this time, Kakashi used that slow, boiling anger towards the man to fuel his counterattack. Throwing himself into a flurry of physical attacks, Kakashi no longer felt when he made contact or missed, when he blocked or when he was hit. At that moment, he was acting on instinct and a hatred that he never knew he was capable of possessing.

This was the man he had been fooled into trusting – the one person Kakashi had deluded himself into thinking he could be with, for more than just a night of passion. He was the person that forced Kakashi to leave his village, his friends, and everything else he held dear. With that, Kakashi landed a punch squarely into the brunet's chest, causing him to fall backwards several feet. No longer sensing the other Iruka coming to sneakily attack him, Kakashi took the momentary reprieve to focus his energy in his right hand.

Within moments, a loud chirping sound filled the silent arena and, with a soft curse, Kakashi propelled himself forwards. Knowing he would not be able to take out his revenge on the real person, he was glad to substitute the man's illusion that was so perfect, the only thing that told them apart was Kakashi's pitiful feelings for him that, despite the hatred and anger, still remained.

Letting out a battle cry, Kakashi chambered his fist and, with a speed he had never before possessed, took his anger out on the second Iruka. The illusion's eyes widened as he realized Kakashi meant to destroy him. Flitting back, he was able to dodge several of the attacks, no sane person would even attempt to block. The last of Kakashi's punches, aimed low, forced him to jump up in the air to escape in time.

Almost as soon as his feet left the ground, he realized he had been trapped – that Kakashi had been several steps ahead of him this whole time. Unable to get away in time, he watched in horror as Kakashi easily altered his position in the split second it took for Iruka to land back on the ground. His fist now moving in a fierce punch, Kakashi felt a moment of satisfaction when he finally felt his fist connect with his opponent's chest, tearing through him with ease.

Kakashi froze as soon as he felt his fist come out the other side of the brunet's upper torso. Waiting to hear the distinctive sound of the doppelganger disappearing, it took a few painfully silent moments for Kakashi to realize that soft pop was not coming. Instead, the only thing he could hear besides the chirping of his Chidori, was deathly silence and then, a soft gasp.

"Doshite…" That quiet whisper was the most agonizing sound Kakashi had ever heard. Unable to move, his body no longer paying any attention to his mind, Kakashi could only stare ahead, his eyes focused on his bloodied hand. Almost as though mocking himself for his own intelligence, Kakashi reminded himself that doppelgangers did not bleed that much.

Without warning, the world around him came rushing back, and Kakashi realized that that silence was of his own making. All around him, there were cries, but there was one that rose above all. Kakashi did not have to recognize the words to know who had screamed. That loud, obnoxious voice had grated on his ears for so long he doubted he would ever be able to forget it or its blonde owner.

Finally able to move, Kakashi turned his head, his eyes focusing on the pale scar running across the young man's nose. Feeling the body against his own start slipping, he unconsciously moved, falling on his knees to cushion the man's fall. Cradling the motionless form, Kakashi let both of his eyes trail down his oddly peaceful face. His skin was too pale – almost blending in with his mysterious scar. His eyes were closed, thick lashes brushing against his cheeks. Moving down to his lips, Kakashi saw a trail of blood trickling from the corner of his emotionless lips. Incapable of doing anything other than stare in disbelief, Kakashi found his gaze focusing on the gaping hole in a chest that should have never seen such a battle.

Letting out a soft whimper, Kakashi brought his right hand, shaking uncontrollably, to rest over the large wound. Almost reflexively, Kakashi tore at his uniform, pulling his scarf away from his face and balling it up. Pressing it against the hole in a futile attempt to staunch the blood flow, Kakashi could not help but inwardly repeat, in denial, how doppelgangers did not bleed to such an extent. The blood seeping through the pale material, staining it a deep crimson, was enough proof of that fact.

"Iruka," Kakashi let out a quiet sob as he looked back to the chuunin's face, no longer able to see much from behind his watery gaze. Bowing his head until his forehead was resting on the brunet's shoulder, Kakashi felt that icy façade of his shatter. "You were supposed to be the illusion…" he whispered to the chuunin, his words choked with emotion and tears. Tightening his hand around the soaked material at the brunet's chest, Kakashi felt his body tremble, as he replayed the last few moments. He had been sure he knew which one was which…there was no way he could have been wrong.

"You idiot. You bastard…" Kakashi said quietly, his voice trembling, as he wished he could revive his momentary misplaced hatred towards the chuunin. At least hatred would not be tearing at him so painfully. Bringing his gaze upwards so he could look into the chuunin's face, Kakashi found himself unable to believe that he had made such a horrible mistake. "You shouldn't have taken the exams. You were happy at the academy. Why the hell did you ever listen to me!?"

Raising his voice, Kakashi weakly pounded his fist into the chuunin's mangled chest. "I told Tsunade I wouldn't fight you. The only way I could do it was if she would reassign me to Suna. I couldn't take being near you again, being reminded how much I hurt you.

"Damn it, I would have done anything for you. The least you could have done was tell me 'no' - told me to stop before I took things too far. I thought you deserved better than me…and I was right…" Kakashi let out a soft groan, wishing he'd had the sense to tell Iruka all of this before. He should have told the chuunin nearly a year ago – gone to him and begged for forgiveness, on his hands and knees if he had to. Anko's presence in Iruka's life shouldn't have made any difference.

A soft gasp escaped the jounin when he felt something brush gingerly against his cheek. Looking up quickly, he saw a pair of half-lidded eyes studying him with the compassion he had always admired the young man for, his trembling fingers stroking Kakashi's wet cheek. "Iruka…"

"B-baka." The chuunin's words, more of a wheeze than anything else, tore at Kakashi's heart more than he had ever imagined possible. Moving to grasp that shaking hand, Kakashi held the cold fingers against his cheek, unable to pull his gaze away from the chuunin's. For a moment, all he focused on was that trembling hand and those doe eyes.

"Why did you take the exam, Iruka?" Kakashi could not help himself from asking as he studied the chuunin's pale features. The young man's blood-stained lips quirked into an almost imperceptible smile as Iruka looked into Kakashi's eyes.

"T-to pr-prove t-to…" Though he was unable to finish his statement, Kakashi knew exactly what he had been trying to say. He had wanted to prove himself to one person in particular – the person he was staring at intently. He had wanted to prove himself to the jounin who was now staring at him with a pained expression. The brunet's words had been slurred, his rapid gasps for air sending stabs of agony through Kakashi. He could hear the way Iruka's breath caught in his throat, unable to even inhale. Already, the visible parts of his lips, not coated in blood, were turning an unhealthy shade of blue.

Kakashi bowed his head for a moment, wishing he had not chosen, right before the moment of impact, to drop his fist to the man's midsection. He was unable to aim for the man's heart, despite believing the brunet was just doppelganger. Even as an illusion, Kakashi could not bring himself to destroy him instantaneously. If he'd had the strength to do so, he would not have to now look down at the chuunin's decimated torso and stifle a sob. It would have been a mercy to have killed him in a single hit. Now Kakashi was tortured with being forced to watch the chuunin slowly suffocate, because he no longer was able to breathe with his chest cavity so destroyed.

"You had nothing to prove, least of all to me," Kakashi whispered more to himself than for any other pair of ears. As he thought about his words, he was amazed to realize that, no matter what else he thought about the chuunin, once he got to know the man as someone more than a high-strung teacher, he always saw Iruka as an amazing shinobi. Looking back into the teacher's face, he wished he had never dared to question Iruka's loyalty to the village or mistrust him for his unique abilities.

Even moments ago, when Iruka was fighting Genma, Kakashi had seen him as an enemy, though now he would have to admit he too would be mad if someone was trying to kill him. Then again, Iruka was always quick to anger, but his temper burned out in mere moments if no one stoked it further. Dropping his head, Kakashi wished he'd had the sense to recall that before, but he had ignored his close tie to the teacher – he was too hurt after hearing about Anko, after seeing Iruka after all this time. Even a year of ignoring his feelings for the young man, running away to another entire village, was not enough to quell what he now realized to be true, as he helplessly watched the chuunin futilely try to inhale, his mouth opening and closing without any air passing by colored lips. Taking a deep breath, Kakashi finally spoke the words he had been so afraid to say a year ago, "I love you…"

The chuunin didn't respond other than smiling slightly, closing his mouth as his lips turned upwards, as though he had been aware of that fact all along. Kakashi brought those limp fingers to his lips, gingerly rubbing his lips against the man's knuckles, in the tenderest gesture he could muster. Kakashi glanced back up at the chuunin's face and found himself feeling a new level of pain, when he saw the brunet's eyes closing slowly, as though he could no longer fight to keep his heavy lids up. Kakashi pressed his lips against the chuunin's cold hand, knowing that Iruka had finally given up. There was no way anyone could heal the extensive damage, much less in the few moments he had, and the stubborn teacher finally was able to come to terms with that fact.

Almost as soon as thick lashes fluttered down to touch his pale cheeks, Kakashi felt the fingers in his grasp begin to slip, what little life they had left in them rapidly disappearing before him. Nearly crushing Iruka's knuckles against his lips, Kakashi watched his face, praying for the chuunin to start gasping for air again, but that moment never came. As in everything else he did, Iruka was going with dignity and not pointlessly dragging out his last few moments.

"No. I-Iruka," Kakashi whispered, bringing his right hand up to brush his thumb against the chuunin's cheek, leaving a streak of red, but the young man did not react, other than fluttering his eyes open for a split second. There was no smile, no turn of his face, nothing to indicate that Iruka had even felt the touch, other than that one momentary flicker of movement. Finally letting go of the chuunin's limp hand, Kakashi brought his other hand to the young man's other cheek, lifting his head ever so slightly so he could kiss cold lips. He could taste the metallic tang of blood, but it was the sweetest, most gentle kiss Kakashi could muster.

Choking on a sob, Kakashi pulled the brunet's motionless body into his arms, a part of him unable to believe he had been wrong – that he had miscalculated and, for all of his genius, he had killed the one person he cared for most. "Please, Iruka, I'm sorry. Please don't leave me," he murmured into the chuunin's soft hair, regretting those few moments when he had convinced himself Iruka was anything other than the loyal teacher he had always been. Perhaps if he had believed Iruka back then – when the chuunin told him he was not a danger to the village – the brunet would still be alive. Letting out a cry that quickly dissolved into uncontrollable sobs, Kakashi clung to the chuunin's body.

So caught up in his self-recrimination, Kakashi didn't hear the change in the audience, their cries turning into a painful silence in mere moments. He was too focused on whispering apologies to ears that would never hear them, that he didn't sense someone approaching him. He didn't even feel the sharp object press against his neck, slowly slicing through bronzed skin, but careful not to sever any major blood vessels.

The only thing that pulled Kakashi away from his mourning was the achingly familiar voice behind him, filled with a hint of humor and more malice than any one person should be capable of. Though the tone was different, deeper, and in many ways darker, it was unmistakable.

Immediately turning to look, more out of amazement and disbelief than anything else, Kakashi found himself staring at the one person he had been least expecting to ever see again. Realizing what he was witnessing, Kakashi smiled sadly, wishing his emotions were not so skewed that he felt a pang of affection towards the man holding a blade to his neck. What was worse was that, when he spoke, Kakashi swore his heart began to race. It had been nearly a year since the last time the jounin had heard the young man call him by his first name, but it was different now, as he stared up into the blackest eyes he had ever seen. He'd never thought that hearing his name roll off someone's tongue would give him a rush of both excitement and pure, unexplainable fear.

"I think I win, Kakashi…"

--

Authoress; YOSH! How about that for a fast-paced, plot turning chapter! //squeals// Anyways…awesomeness…I can't wait for next chapter!

B.Z.: .... O.O ... HOW COULD YOU?!?!?!?! Just when things were about to be FIXED!!!!!!! *throws computer* *glares and pouts* Now... I am NEVER TALKING TO YOU AGAIN ...unless you make things happier in the next chapter...which hopefully will be written VERY soon...

Authoress: I just want to thank all of you guys for staying with this story so long…but the end is finally coming soon! So please review so I get around to writing sooner!! Until next time, ja ne!!