Authoress: YOSH! Back again! I'm keeping my rants short…I have such an itch to write…but just to warn everyone, this is an unbetaed chapter, so I apologize for any mistakes I may have made!!

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto…wouldn't it be amazing if I did?

Chapter Seven

Darkness. The first thing he was aware of. Second came the deathly chill that froze him to the very core until he was certain that he would never know warmth again. It did not matter, however, how cold or dark it was. All that mattered was that there was no more pain. No more agony ripping through his body, no more loneliness. There was no anguish to deaden every nerve in his body, no all-encompassing distress. He was gloriously, blissfully, and wonderfully numb. Nothing could hurt him in this sanctuary – nothing could ever touch him again. He would never have to feel again and, for that, he would give anything, even if it meant never returning to the light.

--

The blonde woman watched in horror as the battle escalated. She had known Kakashi had impossibly quick reflexes, but she knew that it was no longer instinct that moved him, but that this went far beyond human capabilities. They were moving so quickly, she could not catch a glimpse of that red eye, but she knew it was exposed, narrowed into a hardened glare at his opponent.

She had to fight the urge to cry out when she heard the soft chirping that, somehow, drowned out the cheering crowds. It was a foreboding sound that made her tighten her grip on the armrests. She had seen the sheer destructive power of the jutsu, much like many other spectators, but she also knew that there was no way to lessen a hit by holding back. There was no way someone could survive a direct hit and, from his aim, that was just what the jounin was going for. Traitorously, she could only wonder how the man knew which of the brunets fighting him had been the clone in order to make such a technique viable. No matter what, she could not see the jounin purposely harming the brunet he now fought with deadly intent. He had to somehow know that the man he fought was the clone – there was no other possibility.

Then, as soon as that ominous sound filled the arena, it vanished. It had all happened so quickly, Tsunade could not begin to grasp what had happened until the brunet's legs gave out. Almost as though they were one, the jounin fell as well, though he landed on his knees and caught the other shinobi in his arms, whereas the brunet simply crumpled to the ground.

A small gasp escaped her lips as she watched in horror as the jounin – without so much as a moment of hesitation – tore his scarf away and put pressure on the gaping hole he had created. Tsunade did not have to look at the injury to know that, no matter how quickly she moved, there was no healing such a wound. Only after that thought did she slowly realize that such a hit would have destroyed a doppelganger, not injured it.

"Not Iruka," she dared to whisper as she covered her mouth, stifling a sob as she clung to an armrest for support. She did not trust her own feet, so she fought back the urge to stand and look down on the scene unfolding before her. Unable to pull her eyes from the arena, she stared in sick fascination, words that were only meant for one pair of ears amplified throughout the stadium for all to hear and equally gasp over. They were words no one could have imagined from such a shinobi, much less a jounin repudiated to be emotionless.

Somehow able to break her gaze, Tsunade glanced to her left where a group of silent teens sat, varying degrees of horror and despair etched in their faces. Those expressions only deepened when another voice echoed throughout the silent arena.

"I think I win, Kakashi…" Those words were ones that made Tsunade's head swivel back, her eyes searching out the source of the achingly familiar voice, but almost as soon as she caught sight of the Copy Cat Nin and the man that had appeared mere inches behind him, she gasped for a whole new host of reasons.

"Baa-chan! Get the shield down!" She was ripped from her staring when she heard a voice she had most certainly not been expecting. Blinking as she turned around just in time to see two figures race into the heavily guarded box, Tsunade furrowed her eyebrows as her eyes fell on the blonde teen skidding to a stop before her. A year had certainly changed him; his face had narrowed, his voice deepened slightly, but he was so much the same she could not help but smile sadly.

"Naruto?" she asked quietly, trying to make sense of everything that was happening around her. The boy was not even supposed to be in the village, much less at the jounin exams. For a moment, her eyes flickered over to the sannin at the boy's side who gave her a serious look that told the Hokage now was not the time to be asking questions concerning their arrival.

"Take it down now! I've got to get in there!" Naruto rushed to say as he gestured towards the well-protected arena. Tsunade cocked her head to the side, still not understanding the boy's impatience. Iruka had undoubtedly won, so the exams were now over; the shields would be taken down in time, perhaps in a few minutes when everyone got over the shock of witnessing the first exam where a person defeated all of their jounin examiners. Not to mention doing so in such a display of faking his own death.

"Do as he says." Turning towards the boy who had spoken with such unchecked emotion, Tsunade was amazed to find herself looking into the wide eyes of the Kazekage. In all of the time she had known Gaara, she had never once seen such frightening emotions in his eyes. For the first time since the exams began, she caught a glimpse of his deep-seeded concern for and his closeness to the jounin. "Kakashi is in danger!"

Tsunade almost shook her head, wondering what the two teens could possibly be talking about, but then she felt the dark chakra that had been slowly filling the arena. Her gaze whipped back to the decimated battleground, her eyes catching the glint of steel pressed against the jounin's neck, but Kakashi was making any move to get out of harm's way. It was so unlike Kakashi that she could only stare in amazement.

"Iruka won't hurt him," she said quietly to herself, recalling her conversation with Mizutamari Mari. She had been so adamant – so sure – that Iruka could not harm a fly that she was unable to believe, even with the evidence before her, that the brunet was capable of bringing pain to another person. Yet Aoba had nearly been killed, Genma's condition was deteriorating by the moment, and Kakashi…Kakashi was no longer putting up a fight.

The next three words out of Naruto's mouth, said with a coldness Tsunade never wanted to know the boy was capable of, were ones that made her freeze as she looked at the figure standing behind Kakashi under a new light.

"That's not Iruka…"

She stared at the brunet standing behind Kakashi, momentarily unable to shake the feeling that he was the same kindhearted teacher that everyone knew and loved. He looked very much the same, though admittedly she could not see his face from this angle. His body language bespoke anger, but not the kind of evil Mizutamari Mari was afraid of. No, she could not imagine the teacher becoming the monster his teacher had foreseen, but the dark energy that made her very hair stand on end told her another story. It told her that she had somehow miscalculated and that the young man was no longer that compassionate person that everyone loved and trusted. No, now he was something that struck fear into the Hokage's very heart.

"It will take a few minutes to even make an opening in the shield," Tsunade mumbled as she shakily stood up. She numbly stared forwards as she gestured for the collection of guards around her to spread the order. The shield must come down; the stadium evacuated. No matter what else, she first had an obligation to protect her village and, if that meant putting one of her best jounin's lives in danger to give her the necessary time to do so, she would have to take that risk. She glanced over to Naruto and saw his furrowed eyebrows.

"Kakashi might not have a few minutes…"

--

Kakashi could not pull his eyes away from those staring at him with such a lack of emotion he felt a chill overcome him. It was not simply the heartlessness in what should have been a gentle gaze, but that, where brown eyes should be, were orbs of the darkest shade of black. Kakashi took a sharp breath, knowing that he was not hallucinating. Though his features were so unlike those Kakashi was familiar with, the jounin knew exactly who he was.

Removing the blade from Kakashi's neck, the young man took a step backwards and, as he considered the jounin before him, he pulled all of his loose hair away from his face, revealing a pale scar running across the bridge of his nose. Chuckling at the jounin's widening eyes, he looked down at the Copy Nin and, for the first time, saw Kakashi visibly show terror in his entire face.

Though half of his face was covered by long strands of hair that, before Kakashi's very eyes, bled from a soft chestnut to an immaculate white that did not seem to match with his dark skin, Kakashi could still see the elongated features that would make him stand out even more than his hair. Smiling, the young man revealed rows of fang-like teeth that, on anyone else, would have seemed frightening, but at the moment, Kakashi was too stunned to feel anything in the same scope as fear.

Having to mentally state that Iruka was no longer alive, was more difficult than Kakashi could have imagined, but he knew it to be true. Before the jounin stood, not the man he loved, but the physical manifestation of the part of Iruka that he had been so desperate to hide. In front of Kakashi was the dark, evil side - the monster…the demon.

Knowing that his movements were a mistake, Kakashi did not hesitate to look away from the creature, his gaze returning to the limp form in his arms. As he watched the brunet's still body, it lost all color, becoming transparent before beginning to melt away, leaving nothing of the teacher other than a puddle of water that quickly soaked into the ground beneath Kakashi.

"Human bodies are over ninety percent water, so it was quite easy to create a perfect clone that could even fool you, Kakashi." Kakashi smiled sadly at these words. So his instincts – his heart – had not been wrong. He had been able to tell which one was the doppelganger. If only he had somehow realized that someone of the chuunin's abilities could make that clone so seemingly human that it could even bleed.

"I thought he was the clone," Kakashi mumbled weakly as he slowly turned back to look at the being standing so close to him. The jounin could catch the barest whiffs of a scent he had all but eradicated from his memory in his exile in Suna. Salt - Kakashi had always assumed it to be from the vast quantities of ramen the young man inhaled, but he now realized it was the distinct tang of salt water.

The creature before him – for Kakashi could no longer truly call him a man – was a being of the sea. Every feature on him could only be described as fluid. His very movements were as slow and graceful as water itself, but they also bespoke a barely contained power that Kakashi could not help but be impressed by.

Kakashi felt a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth. It was not a grin borne out of happiness – anything but. It was a mixture of sadness and regret, added to which was a touch of self-hatred, that made him slowly move to stand before the creature. Standing at his full height, Kakashi realized he was at eye-level with the demon, but that did not stop him from being mildly intimidated. Not only was the creature breathtaking in much the same way destructive storms and fires fascinated spectators, but the sheer energy and power he controlled exuded from every inch of him was sickeningly beautiful.

The jounin could not help but look into those dark eyes, able to see neither pupil nor iris under the blackness that coated the orbs. Somehow without the cues of slight changes in eye color, he was still able to realize that those pitch black eyes were filled with hatred towards him.

"What now, Kakashi?" the demon asked, his tone mocking, but at the same time, held a death threat that not even Kakashi could ignore. Shivering slightly at those words, the jounin shook his head. "You have nothing to say to me? But you were so…vocal only a few moments ago.

"Kind of pitiful actually," he continued as he took a step to the side, slowly starting to circle Kakashi much like a wolf will move around its prey. "One of the village's greatest shinobi, reduced to a whimpering idiot simply because he killed the person he loved.

"What is love to you, Kakashi? Is it betrayal, is it mistrust? How about seduction, hm? Love must be vanishing for nearly a year, without a single word, much less an explanation."

"I love you," Kakashi whispered as he bowed his head, neither directing his words at the demon nor speaking solely to himself. He was unsure if he should even tell the creature his feelings. How much of the Iruka he fell in love with was left? Glancing up, he saw the demon take a step back, slightly surprised by Kakashi's soft declaration. It was so painfully similar to Iruka's reaction when surprised that it made Kakashi's heart ache. "I left to protect you. I thought you would have been better off without me…"

"Protect?" he repeated quietly, the word coming out as nothing more than a hiss. Without warning, he raised a hand and, without so much as laying a finger on Kakashi, the jounin found himself catapulted into the air. The very breath knocked out of him by the force of the unseen hit, Kakashi could only fall onto his back, skidding several feet across the ground as he gasped frantically for air. "Protect me?!" His words were no longer those cold, calculated utterances. For the first time, they were laced with very human emotions. Hatred, disbelief, anger, but most of all, pain coated his words.

The jounin closed his eyes at those words, able to picture his Iruka saying them perfectly. His eyebrows would have been furrowed, his mouth cracked open slightly, but it would be his emotion-filled eyes that would get Kakashi's chest to hurt. Those chocolate orbs would be the only thing that would reveal the full extent of Kakashi's betrayal – the pain Iruka had felt. The mere thought of his brown eyes, filling with tears he would fight to keep from shedding, was one that made Kakashi's own vision to blur.

Kakashi slowly sat back up, wincing in pain as he did so. The jounin bit back a curse as he brought an arm up to cradle his midsection where he could feel several ribs move unnaturally, sending jolts of agony through his body. It was no wonder such a powerful attack would break bone, but he had not been expecting a good third of his ribs to be cracked by a single hit that had only grazed him. Somehow, not a single shard of bone had pierced any organ, however, if the lack of unendurable pain was any indicator. As he looked back up to the pale-haired creature, he realized why he had no mortal injuries from the hit. He had not wanted him to be so badly wounded. If that glint to his ebony eyes was any hint, he was going to get pleasure from dragging this out.

"I won't fight you, Iruka," Kakashi said softly, directing his words, as well as the name, towards the creature. He could not help but hope that there was something of the Iruka he once knew buried beneath the monster that now smiled at Kakashi. At the sound of the name of a much beloved teacher, the demon outright laughed.

"Then this won't take long at all," the demon replied as he tightened clawed hands into fists, his eyes narrowing as he studied Kakashi. "At least make it a challenge for me," he added as he took a step towards the jounin. They both knew that Kakashi's participation in the fight, or lack of it, would not affect the outcome.

Seeing sinewy muscles bunch together on thighs, revealing weight was being shifted as an offensive stance was taken, Kakashi closed his eyes and put his life into fate's hands. Whatever happened to him, he deserved it, but at least he would die knowing that he had never laid a hand on Iruka in violence. It was the one thing he could do for the man he still loved.

"Goodbye, Kakashi."

--

"What the hell is taking so long!?" Naruto cried as he banged against the impenetrable shield, immediately being thrown backwards a few steps from coming in contact with the force field. Tsunade glanced over to the pair of shinobi – both masters of chakra control – working frantically to unweave the intricate jutsu that normally took several minutes to take down. It was never meant to be disassembled so rapidly, but one would not know that from the progress made so far. The two jounin, along with the small army of comrades that were moving as quickly as they could, had already been able to weaken the shield so that, when Naruto now moved to touch the shield, it bent slightly under the pressure of his fingers and no longer attacked the headstrong boy with a wave of chakra.

There were signs that revealed that the shield was not designed for something like this. It had already lashed out, knocking Lee and several others unconscious. Gaara was still nursing a large burn down his forearm and Neji's once long locks were singed to half their length, but the teens refused to move to safety. They demanded to be the first ones through the shield. With a saddened smile, Tsunade knew that they would be the only ones. The shield was not being taken down; it was being weakened enough for an opening to be made just long enough for some people to get in. Those brave souls now rallied around her, itching to go help the silver-haired jounin who refused to raise a hand to the creature relentlessly attacking him.

Tsunade winced when she saw Kakashi be hit by a particularly powerful upper cut, throwing the man several feet, though he amazingly landed on his feet before bowling over and coughing. It was painful to watch, but she could not help but keep her eyes trained on the fight out of respect for the Copy Cat Nin and for the man Iruka had once been.

"Now!" one of the jounin cried as he pointed towards a point in midair that anyone could see lacked the bluish tint of the shield. Without any other words of encouragement, four teens slipped through the small opening before the hole closed back on itself and the two exhausted jounin collapsed onto the floor.

"Should we have let them go?" Jiraiya asked quietly as he watched the four teenagers quickly making their way towards the creature pummeling Kakashi. He had gotten to know Iruka over the past year and could not shake the feeling that there was no way Iruka could be violent – no matter what, the man could never become evil – but the proof stared him in the face as he watched the demon stand up slowly, deliberately.

Apparently he sensed that he had company.

--

He could only laugh outright as he dodged a perfectly executed punch, followed by a roundhouse from behind. For humans, they were excellent, even impressive, he would admit, but they were far too slow. Their movements were almost sluggish to him, weighed down by their human limitations. Easily moving out of range of a kunai, he outright grinned. About time they took him seriously.

Without warning, a hand crafted from pristine sand rose from behind him, moving with lightening speed to grab him, but he was no longer there by the time the fingers began constricting. Focusing most of his attention on that sand laced deliciously with demonic chakra, it took little more than a thought to keep himself from being injured by the other attackers. It was almost too easy.

That realization gave him pause as he took a moment to glance around, having sensed four energy sources, but only three teens were attacking him. Spying the last of the youths, he smirked. They were smart – perhaps almost too smart for mere humans. But, then again, they had two demon containers among them. They should know what to expect.

Watching the swirling blue chakra coming from teen's hand, he licked his lips. This was going to prove interesting. Without any heed for the other three teens, he raced towards the blue-eyed human with such speed, the boy's clones helping sculpt the energy let out squeaks of surprise. The actual human, on the other hand, only gave him a cold glance before turning to face him.

His feet made no sound on the ground, his breathing halted – even his very heart seemed to freeze in anticipation as he took those last final steps towards the boy. The blonde's face, torn by internal conflict, was hauntingly beautiful and it was not until he saw the teenager's hips turn, his hand whipping around after the rest of his body with a frightening forcefulness that he realized what the boy was planning. There was no way to stop the jutsu now, both he and the teen knew, but he also knew that something in the boy had changed. He had lost his conviction – the boy had realized he could not kill him so heartlessly. If he could, the blonde would have pulled back or deflected the attack, but the teen was helpless as he was.

Smart brat…he conceded as he momentarily stared into impossibly blue eyes that were coated by tears that ran unchecked down scarred cheeks. Almost as soon as he caught a glimpse of those tears, he looked back at the ball of energy in the shape of a shuriken barreling towards him. Naruto. The boy's name blindsided him as he felt his eyebrows furrow in a momentary flash of pain that had nothing to do with the jutsu connecting with his chest.

The chakra instantly burned through his light outfit, charring his skin beyond recognition and leaving a gaping hole in its wake. It was not until the jutsu tore through his back, as he was lifted from his feet by the teen's powerful attack, that he felt the first twinge of actual pain from the chakra. Almost as soon as he felt his back being shredded by the chakra, he let out the breath he had been holding in and his very body was torn to bits and scattered around the arena.

--

"Iruka!" Naruto dropped to his knees, clinging to his right hand – the hand that had destroyed his own father. Wordlessly, they had agreed he should be the one to end it, but it did not stop him from feeling the heart-wrenching guilt as he kept his eyes firmly closed, not wanting to see the scarlet-sprayed ground – the remains of his family.

Tears ran down his cheeks as Naruto rested his head on the ground, his very body trembling in such pain, he could not help but wonder if he was following his father into oblivion. For a moment, he only wondered if he should do just that.

When he had stared at the demon with uncaring eyes, he saw nothing of his father remaining – Iruka had truly been dead and that monster replaced him, taking over his body in a sickening mockery of what and who Iruka was. But the moment before his Rasengan made contact with flesh he had seen something that made his heart freeze. Those black orbs had changed for just a split second. He could have sworn he saw recognition in those eyes. And, he was not sure if it was wishful thinking on his part, but for a brief moment, he swore that it had been Iruka's chocolate eyes looking back at him.

"Well that stung more than I though it would."

Naruto gasped when he heard that statement, sure he must be hallucinating in order to hear such a familiar voice that his eyes were washed in a new wave of tears. Unable to help himself, he let out a sob, quickly looking up as he blinked his eyes to clear his vision.

His vision, however, did not lie. The figure before him tilted his head to the side as he reached backwards to rub a shoulder, his nonchalance both annoying and, at the same time, uplifting. Despite himself, a smile tugged at Naruto's lips as he studied the light-haired creature that now looked to him appreciatively.

"Not bad, but I suggest making sure you kill me next time," he added, his lips curving upwards into a smirk that revealed sharpened teeth. Naruto unconsciously nodded his head, recalling all of the times Iruka had pounded information into his head as he desperately tried to ignore the teacher.

"Iruka…" Naruto dared to whisper as he slowly stood back up, his eyes trained on the being before him. He was alive, but more importantly, he was whole and unharmed. A part of the blonde could not help but wonder how such a feat was possible, but the rest of him was too happy to care. The heartening realization that he had not killed his father washed over him and Naruto found himself crying again, though for far different reasons. "How?" Naruto asked quietly, unable to move his gaze from the creature, whole and uninjured, though the blonde swore he had felt his Rasengan tear through his body.

"I'm not a human, gaki," he replied with a chuckle as he glanced down at his own hand, flexing his fingers in attempts to speed up the regeneration of the cells that would return the feeling to his hands. Though not exactly a demon, he was not enough of a human to be limited to their fragility. Hearts, lungs…those were human necessities for life. So long as he still had his chakra, he could pull himself back together for the rest of eternity, no matter how injured or destroyed his body was. Of course, the ability to heal no matter the wound did not mean he did not feel pain. He had to fight the urge to wince as he stretched backwards, feeling the bones in his torso painfully shifting against organs as they grew back to their normal proportions.

Naruto was immediately drawn towards the creature for no other reason than that, for a moment, he had seen the old Iruka in those eyes. As he had moved, Naruto could see in those dark eyes the pain he felt, though still trying to stubbornly deny it much like his father always did. Of course, when Iruka was in pain, he hid it because he didn't want people to worry about him – especially Naruto – but this creature's reasoning was one Naruto could not figure out entirely. Perhaps it was a remnant of his father – or the kindhearted person he had once been. It was enough reason for him to hope that Iruka would calm down and return to himself.

Before he reached the demonic being, the white-haired creature became a blur, moving out of range of one of Gaara's sand-based jutsu. Without hesitating, Naruto moved between the three teens and the being that had simply folded his arms across his chest, wordlessly taunting Gaara to catch him.

"Don't hurt him!" Naruto cried out as he stretched his arms outwards, showing that he meant to protect the creature behind him. He did not have to look backwards to know that a pale eyebrow had arched in curiosity at his actions. A part of the teen could not believe what he was doing, but he had to take the chance. If there was something of Iruka left, it was enough of a reason for Naruto to fight for him.

"Naruto, he is a danger to the village," Neji said softly, though his eyes were just as tortured as anyone else's. Staring at the Hyuuga for a moment, Naruto recalled the months Neji and Shikamaru had spent with the brunet teacher. They, too, had forged close relationships with the man, and were fighting against their love for Iruka to do what must be done.

"No…Iruka is still alive," Naruto retorted, his defense sounding weak even to his own ears. "I saw him," he added as he looked to the three teens imploringly. Just one other person who believed Iruka could come back would be enough for Naruto – he just wanted to know he was not seeing things because he was desperate. He would do anything to bring his father back. "Please…"

"While the four of you discuss what you are going to do with me, I think I am going to go over and kill that annoying jounin," the demon declared lightly as he waved to the four before turning on his heel and walking towards whatever direction he had thrown Kakashi in last.

"Wait!" Naruto swiveled around, directing his exclamation at the creature. For a moment, the demon stiffened, before he turned back and stared at Naruto curiously. "Please, Iruka. You don't have to do this. Kakashi deserved to have the crap beaten out of him, but not to die…not like this."

"Try to stop me," he replied coldly, the once light and joking tone disappearing under layers of hatred and pain. Naruto frowned, trying to figure out how much of that emotion was the demon and how much was his hot-headed, mildly bipolar father who had been hurt and betrayed by the jounin he now had a vendetta against.

Before he even got the chance to take another step, the creature's foot froze in midair. His head did not turn, but his eyes strained to look to the ground where a suspicious shadow was stretched across the earth. He could not stop himself from smirking at the crafty teens. He doubted the blonde even realized he had been used as bait, distracting him just long enough to get one of the other teens in position.

Instead of wasting his energy trying to move, he let his body follow the pulls of an unseen puppeteer. Turning around, he was able to catch a glimpse of the narrow-eyed brunet before shifting his gaze towards the three other teens coming towards him.

"Impressive, I must admit," he commented calmly as he studied the redhead appreciatively. There had been sand dusting the shadows, revealing how the Nara had been able to stretch his ability so far. Not that he would admit it to any one of the humans, but he was vastly impressed at how they were able to wordlessly communicate, flawlessly pulling off attacks that would have felled a normal opponent. He, however, was far from average. Flexing his arm, knowing that off to the side Shikamaru was staring at his own arm in horror as his forearm raised and lowered seemingly on its own accord, he smirked. "A little miscalculation, though."

"How?" Neji instantly demanded as his narrowed gaze met the creature's. To break the jutsu was one thing, but to turn it against the boy was not possible. Or at least it was impossible by human standards. Realizing how they could have been so far off with their mostly improvised strategy, he gulped. There were only two people who could possibly understand the capabilities of a being such as the one standing before him. Thankfully, however, both of them were standing next to the Hyuuga and staring at the demon with respect and awe. Their features were unmarred by the fear both Neji and Shikamaru felt, but how could they possibly be frightened by a being that, in so many ways, was similar to them?

Activating his Byakugan, Neji immediately saw how such a feat was achievable – how the demon could possibly control Shikamaru from such a distance with nothing connecting them. Around the Nara's moving arm was a thin network of red chakra, creating a perfect replication of his own chakra pathways. Staring at the brunet's arm a moment longer, Neji stepped back in surprise. The chakra was not around Shikamaru's arm, but inside it. It had somehow replaced the blue chakra that should have been there, yet it was causing no damage to the boy's arm.

Shifting his gaze to his own body, Neji saw the thin threads of red stretching throughout his own frame. He dare not look to Naruto and Gaara, unsure if he could distinguish between their chakra and the demon's if they were in the same situation.

Somehow, the creature had been able to weave his chakra into them without them noticing it at all. He and Shikamaru were as good as dead if the demon so wished it, but as he looked back to the monster, he saw something in those dark eyes that told him he need not fear for his life unless he did something rash. That unfamiliar energy warmed throughout his frame for a brief moment, reminding him of its presence. It was not a threatening change, just one that made him study the pale-haired creature under a new light. Perhaps Naruto was right…maybe there was a chance they could bring Iruka back. No cold-hearted demon would ever take the chance and inform his opponents of his upper hand. No, that was the compassionate teacher Neji befriended.

Revived by that thought, Neji took an offensive stance before quickly glancing to Shikamaru, Gaara, and Naruto. The blonde was the only one who smiled back at him, obviously reading Neji's change of heart from the teen's expression. Focusing his energy into the tips of his fingers, Neji took a steadying breath before moving.

He smiled, watching the Hyuuga race towards him. Effortlessly, he dodged the quick jabs and even more rapid swipes aimed towards delicate pressure points. Those attacks, though obviously not meant to harm him permanently, were still quite dangerous. If they made contact, they would leave him momentarily just as defenseless as they would a human, and, judging from the glint to those pale eyes, the teen was aware of that fact.

He could not help but laugh outright at the teen's spirit. Twisting to dodge a near perfect hit at his midsection, he vaulted into the air. Easily flipping over, he landed back on the ground in just enough time to block the merciless combination of attacks. Always careful of the teen's chakra-infused limbs, he found himself working up a sweat as he was forced to actually focus on the brunet as he moved. His awareness of the area around them dulled as he dropped to the ground to keep himself from being struck by an attack aimed for his throat. Quickly rolling, he was ashamed to admit that, in that moment, he had ignored the rest of the arena. All he had cared about were those rapidly moving hands and equally threatening feet. Just one hit and he would be helpless.

His ignorance of their surroundings was a mistake, he realized too late as he ran into a wall of sand that immediately began to collapse on him. Unable to do anything else, he melted into the ground and moved far from the chakra-infused soil before recombining and cautiously returning to the surface. Almost as soon as he pulled his feet out of the ground, he jumped to the side in order to dodge the blasted persistent pale-eyed brat.

Leaping upwards as he felt the ground beneath him shift, he was only given enough time to twist to the side, the spear of hardened sand grazing his side. The sharpened point effortlessly sliced through material and left a shallow incision between his ribs. He could not help but be impressed at their teamwork. Now he had to dodge long enough for the other two teenagers to show their abilities in conjunction with the others.

Growling softly as he fell back to the ground, refusing to check the scratch at his side despite the warm liquid seeping down his side and the sharp pain that shot up his back, he shifted his gaze towards the shadow-controlling teen. He was rapidly making his way through a sequence of hand seals that intrigued the creature. Such seals were powerful and certainly were not ones someone of the boy's youth should know.

Interested, he watched as the teen finished, planting his hands out on the ground. From his very fingers seeped an inky blackness that seemed to swallow up what little light the darkening sky shone downwards. Mesmerized by this unfamiliar jutsu, he took a step forwards, inching towards the darkness that was extending across the ground. Unable to help his inquisitive nature, he toed the edge of the spreading dark spot. He smirked as he felt the black substance pulling him downwards.

Shikamaru felt a smirk tug at his lips as he watched the creature curiously examine the pool of shadows. He had been right to assume that one part of Iruka's personality remained – the man was fascinated by things that he was unfamiliar with. Almost as soon as the demon's sandal touched the blackness, it moved on its own accord, wrapping around his leg and taking physical form. It was neither a liquid nor a solid – it held a fluidity that could almost be described as graceful, but at the same time was firm and unyielding to the demon's attempts to jerk backwards.

Feeling the jutsu begin to drain his energy, Shikamaru took a deep breath as he focused all of his concentration on keeping up the jutsu long enough for his friends to get the upper hand. The shadows needed no direction from him. With that first curious touch, they had scanned the demon's chakra and would now recognize him no matter where he was. There was no way to fully escape their powerful grasp.

The demon quickly discovered that fact for himself when he seeped into the ground to loosen the shadow's hold on him, only to rise to the surface several feet away and realize the shadows had followed him. Shikamaru could only smile at the interest the demon would most certainly be feeling. If it was anything like Iruka, it would be highly pleased by the jutsu no matter what danger it was in as a result.

He could only lick his lips as he barked out a laugh, attempting to shake his leg to wrestle the limb from the dark shadow's grasp. With each movement, however, the shadows only tightened around his calf and ankle, slowly inching up higher on his leg until those strong fingers clutched his upper thigh, making it impossible for him to move any appreciable distance.

"Stop this, Iruka," Naruto begged as he walked towards the demon, stopping mere inches away from the creature as he studied it with furrowed eyebrows. The feeling that Iruka was in there somewhere would not leave Naruto, not even when looking at the demon at this close distance. In response, the creature snarled, any hint of amusement disappearing from its achingly beautiful face.

"He is right, Iruka," Neji agreed softly as he came to stand next to Naruto, folding his arms across his chest as he watched the demon. Though he wanted desperately to believe Naruto's declaration, he still kept one hand pulsating with chakra in case he needed to move quickly to protect himself and his friends.

"Ah, but your runty friend does not agree with you," the demon stated calmly as he thrust his chin outwards, gesturing towards the redhead slowly approaching them. Naruto and Neji turned ever so slightly, twin gasps escaping pursed lips as they caught a glimpse of the young Kazekage.

It was not only the sea-green eyes darkened to a stormy shade that promised death to the pale-haired creature that made Naruto unconsciously step between the village leader and the demon. It was also the form that was draped across Gaara's arms. There was no mistaking who the Kazekage carried in his arms with such surprising gentleness.

It was not his face that made the blonde recognize the figure. Those features were too injured, too coated in blood, to be familiar. Nor was it the hair, silver streaked with scarlet, which caused a pang of pain in Naruto's chest. No, it was the pale robes, shredded and stained red, which caused a stifled gasp to escape from the blonde's throat. The man had looked so different – so foreign – in such garb that it struck Naruto to the point the blonde could not truly recall how his old teacher had once looked in a Konoha uniform.

A soft groan from the otherwise silent man made Naruto smile hopefully. Gaara slowly lowered himself to his knees, resting the jounin down on the ground with a care few knew he was capable of. Once he gingerly placed Kakashi's head down, making sure to avoid putting any pressure on the side of the man's head where most of the blood was coming from, he looked up to glare at the demon. No one deserved this, no matter how asinine and unfeeling one's actions were.

Straightening back up, Gaara stalked over to the demon. Once he stood toe to toe to the creature, he leaned in close enough that he could see the strong pulse beating in the man's tanned neck. Other than growling softly, he gave no warning before reaching with lightening-quick reflexes to wrap his fingers around that throat.

Digging his fingers into flesh, the Kazekage whispered under his breath so that only the demon could hear him, "If Kakashi did not care so much for you, I would kill you now. Touch another hair on his head – or on anyone else – and I will no longer take his feelings into consideration."

"You are threatening me?" the demon asked incredulously, raising a pale eyebrow in interest. Letting out a chuckle, he shook his head before bowing closer to Gaara. Lowering his voice, he snarled, "You are still alive only because I found you amusing."

"And now?" Gaara taunted, knowing full well Shikamaru's unique jutsu was still in place and, as long as it held out, the demon could not move, much less attack him. In response, the pale-haired creature growled as he lunged forwards, but his body below his waist refused to move. The Kazekage simply bent backwards to move out of the creature's range. "Are you still amused?"

"The novelty of playing with demon containers is starting to bore me," the demon hissed as he glanced down at the shadows slowly creeping up his torso. Glaring at the dark fingers, his eyes filled with hatred and promise of death, the creature took a deep breath before bringing his hands up to his face. Before Gaara even had the chance to register the demon was moving, he melted into the ground, the shadows that once held him in place falling limply back to the ground.

Shikamaru cursed softly as he pressed his hands more firmly against the ground, consciously searching for the demonic energy, but neither the Nara nor his shadows could pinpoint his location. It was as though he disappeared. Opening his eyes, the brunet glanced around the arena, but saw no sign of the demon.

There! Sensing a flare of chakra, Shikamaru sent the shadows towards the energy, but almost immediately pulled them back when he saw that they were heading towards Neji. The Hyuuga, his eyes widened in surprise, took a step backwards as he stared at his palms.

It took Shikamaru no more than a split second to understand how his jutsu had mistook Neji for the demon – even he could sense the evil tinge both his and the Hyuuga's chakra had taken on since entering the arena. Apparently the demon was putting that subtle change to good use. From Neji's surprised expression, he could sense the momentary increase in demonic chakra pulsating through him.

It was now far too dangerous to use the jutsu now that it could not distinguish between them and the demon it was supposed to attack. Wordlessly recalling the jutsu, the Nara sat back on his heels and sighed in exhaustion. There would be no second attempt at such a technique unless he was willing to chance his own life to hold the creature down for a few seconds at most.

Shikamaru did not even get the chance to stand back up before he felt a presence behind him. As he moved to turn, he could hear something whizzing through the air and then there was a flash of pain in his neck, then oblivion.

Shikamaru. Much like the blonde boy, this one's name had given him pause, but he did nothing other than watch the unconscious teen drop unceremoniously to the ground. A well placed chop to the neck was all it took to reduce his opponents to three. He could not help but sigh at how easy it was to dispose of one. Of course, he had to give it to the teenager – that jutsu had drained the boy to the point he was all but dead on his feet. It was too bad that their little strategy did not hold him for long.

"Shikamaru!" Upon hearing the blonde's voice, he looked up and saw the glares directed at him. Even the boy that had stupidly tried to protect him from the other humans now had a hard quality to his face that made him smirk. Apparently those dreams of his beloved "Iruka" returning were starting to finally fade. About time – teenagers should not be disillusioned by their childish fancies.

Without another word, the three came at him. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, not needing his vision to track their movements. The very air, heavy with the humidity that had been increasing so gradually he doubted any of the humans had even noticed the change, told him that the fastest of the three was the smallest of them – the redhead.

It was not surprising considering the tiny, pale boy was the demon container who had embraced what he was from a young age. The boy knew what it took to control the monster within himself. He also knew how to tap into that darkness and use it for his own ends. Chuckling, he could sense that the raccoon was screaming for the child to kill him. Demons always hated rivalry, especially when their enemies were so much more powerful than themselves.

Twisting to dodge a honed blade, created from the pale sand eking out of its curvaceous container, he laughed. The curved weapon was most certainly moving quickly enough even his own vision would have no chance of seeing it, but the young teen might have just as well outright stated his intentions. His sweat, the slight shifts in his tiny form, but most of all, the deep breaths that took in moist air told the creature exactly what the boy was planning.

It came as no shock that a second weapon came at him from behind. This one, unlike the other still intermittently swiping at him, cut the air with a different sound. It was far sharper than the molded sand of the other and, as he focused more of his intention on the new blade, he discovered why it had felt so different. The blade was impenetrable – not even the smallest drop of water could get through the blade, weighing it down gradually until it melted in a pile of wet soil.

Cracking open an eye as he craned backwards to dodge the blade, he immediately saw why the blade was so unusual compared to its brother weapon. This one, unlike the crudely formed creation of sand, was beautifully constructed. It held no imperfections, cracks, or rough edges. It glittered despite the dim lighting of the arena, though it held no color other than that reflected off of it. This weapon was not simply made of the chakra-infused sand, but was an evolved form. This blade, unlike the one now falling useless to the ground soaked through from the humid air around them, was not made of sand, but perfectly crafted glass.

Keeping his eyes on the blade, he was fascinated by the weapon. It was seemingly harmless, but its beauty was its greatest strength. One would immediately consider a glass blade fragile, not dangerous, when in fact it was anything but safe as he discovered as he watched it miss, striking the ground with enough force to create small craters. No, this blade was as strong as the purest of diamonds thanks to the demonic chakra coursing through it, granting it an ethereal glow.

Sensing a change in the air around him, he instinctively dove into the ground. Even as he soaked into the earth, he could not shake the feeling of a powerful hand skimming over the top of his head. That much chakra had it hit its intended target in his chest would have most certainly knocked him unconscious, if not killed him. That was far too close for comfort, but at the same time, he could not help but be impressed at the teen's speed and viciousness.

Neji…this name came to him as a surprise as he resurfaced several feet away from the teens, his eyes taking in the long-haired brunet. Glancing over to the redhead, he did not have to think to know his name and title. The Kazekage…Gaara…Neji's boyfriend…those seemingly innocent tidbits of information did not give him pause like the names of the other two teens had. No, this realization shook him to the very core, but he had no idea why.

Snarling when understanding finally dawned on him, he looked at the three teens with renewed hatred. They were the only things standing in his way. He could not let them live; they put his very existence in danger. Narrowing his eyes, a new desire to end their insignificant lives borne from his own fear, he promised himself the only thing he was sure of. I will not go back…I won't let you return, Iruka…

--

Fear. Such a feeling was not supposed to exist here, of that he was certain, though he did not know why. Focusing on the emotion, he somehow knew it was not his own fear he could sense. No, this was someone else's – someone he could not place. Almost as soon as the fear hit him, something else blindsided him. This time, it was not a sensation, but an image. A child – no a young teen – had his arms wrapped around his neck, clinging for dear life. But he was crying. Why? Such impossibly blue eyes should never have a moment of sadness cross them. Unsure of little else, he knew this one thing to be fact. Then, as the tale continued on, the boy's tears were dissolved with a smile – he had been crying because he was happy. The teen's lips moved, a broad grin covering his scarred cheeks.

"Dad" was all he said, directing his words at one person in particular. Had he a body left, he would have dropped to his knees with the wave of indescribable emotion that hit him when he realized the boy had been speaking to him. It was happiness, it was pride, but it was also fear and insecurity – he did not know if he would make a good parent for the child who had placed his life in his hands.

It was humbling, but it was also uplifting. There were so many emotions, he longed to cry out, but no sound came. There was no release of the multitude of pent up emotions that threatened to destroy him. Then, as soon as he dared to admit his relationship to the boy, he knew it was not a dream, but a memory.

He was the father of the most compassionate and brave teen he knew. His son was going to become a great leader one day and was stubborn enough that he might very well achieve that dream. He wished he could smile at the boy's uniqueness – even as a baby, the blonde was a handful. Those memories, of a bubbly toddler, of a prankster child, were ones that sent another wave of emotion through him as he recalled the most important thing about the boy – his name.

Uzumaki Naruto…those two words sent a flash of pain through him as other images were dragged up from some invisible recess filled with horrible memories. The boy was fighting, though tears nearly blinded him. A quick jab that lacked conviction, as though he could not bring himself to hurt his attacker, was followed by a cry of pain. His son jumped backwards, clutching his abdomen. Unable to look away, he could see the scarlet liquid begin to seep between his trembling fingers, staining his bright jacket to a darkened shade that brought a wave of agony to him.

The boy was stepping backwards, unable to stop himself as he fell back, still wrapping an arm around his injury as though it was capable of staunching the blood flow. His beautiful blue eyes were filled with so many emotions, it was difficult to pinpoint all of them. All he was sure of was that there was love, but there was also betrayal, despair, and horror filling such brilliant orbs.

"I love you, Dad," the boy all but whispered as he looked up, a saddened smile coming to his face. As he spoke, a trail of blood seeped out of the corner of his mouth, revealing the extent of his injuries went far beyond that of his midsection.

Gasping, he shook his head, trying to rid himself of such a horrible image, but could not escape the sound of the boy's haggard breathing, the horrible gasps and wheezes in attempts to get air into his damaged lungs. Looking down, he found himself looking down at a pair of hands that he somehow knew were his own, though they held no similarities to those digits he remembered. Long and spindly, they were capped with dark claws, but what made him step backwards was the color that filled his vision. Red. The shade was a vibrant, perhaps even beautiful, one he would have appreciated in any other circumstance, but he knew that it was the same color that created rivulets down his son's fingers, staining clothing as it ebbed from his body.

More out of surprise than anything else, he jerked his hands backwards. Hearing something hit the ground, he somehow did not have to look at the object to know that a weapon had fallen from his hands and that, much like his hands, that blade was coated in a color that made his stomach turn.

Looking back to the boy, he could see in those blue eyes the reason behind his stained hands. There was no other explanation, but the knowledge made him shake his head in disbelief. Traitorously, the memories flooded into him. A dodge here, a quick swipe there – all done with a violence he never knew he possessed. Coming in contact with flesh, he had smiled. Each gasp of pain and surprise had been met with a chuckle. Stepping backwards, unable to do anything else, his eyes searched around him, but his vision told him what he was afraid to believe.

There, in the exact place he could recall hitting someone with a powerful water jutsu, lay a friend, cradling a shockingly bright head of red hair. A deep gash had left one of the boy's arms useless, but his remaining hand was firmly pressed against the other teen's neck, desperately searching for a pulse. His fingers trembled, however, not entirely from emotion, but also because of the dark mark quickly spreading across his left breast. If the unnatural paleness of his skin was any indicator, he did not have long left.

Without thought, he poured healing energy into the three teens, working quickly to mend the worst of their injuries. When he was finally drained of green-tinged chakra, he let out a sigh of relief. They would all survive with some medical attention.

Sensing a change in the air, he turned and found himself staring into a pair of mismatched orbs – one black, the other crimson – that were filled with such emotion that he momentarily did not recognize those eyes.

As soon as knowledge of the man's identity hit him, he felt a whole host of different emotions come over him. This time, it was neither fear nor surprise. No, he recalled these sensations – these were the ones that he had gladly escaped before. Betrayal and hatred he felt in abundance, but there was something that tore at his heart far worse than the darkest emotion he could possibly conjure – love for the man.

--

Naruto blinked several times, his vision becoming hazy despite his best attempts to keep himself clear-headed. In his last moments of consciousness, he looked up to the creature his father turned into and saw something that nearly stopped his heart.

The pale hair was gone, returned to a deep chestnut that Naruto never would have thought he would have been so happy to see. Those long, terrible claws had receded along with the pearly fangs. Now the being standing before him, his body turned slightly so that Naruto could just see his profile, was no longer the monster the blonde felt slight fear towards.

For a moment, soft brown eyes flickered over to him, catching his gaze for such a brief instant, Naruto was not sure if he had imagined it or not. He would have passed it up to his deliriousness due to pain and blood loss, but Naruto swore that those eyes held such a multitude of emotions, the blonde cried out in empathy. No one should ever have to feel the kind of sorrow that was visible in those gentle eyes.

Naruto opened his mouth, desperately trying to speak – to find out if the man was real or just his imagination – but he never got that chance. His vision began darkening as he felt his body begin to involuntarily plummet towards the ground. In his last moment of consciousness, he heard something that, despite the pain that word was laced with, made him smile.

"Kakashi…"

--

The jounin blinked as he heard his name, the syllables breaking with barely contained emotion. Though it was no more than that one word, it made him take a step towards the brunet, his mind hardly even registering the physical changes that had turned the being before him back into the man he had fallen in love with.

The only thing he was aware of at that moment was the young man looking at him with such betrayal and pain in his features that Kakashi was forced to step backwards as he slowly came to understand that he was the cause of those emotions. That realization – that he had caused so much pain for the one person he cared for most – hurt far more than he had ever thought possible.

A part of Kakashi wanted to rebel against such an unfamiliar sense of guilt. He was not the one hiding a girlfriend when they had spent the night together – he was not the one getting married to said woman. He may have been in the wrong, but that did not excuse Iruka from his own transgressions.

Almost as soon as his traitorous mind thought of such things, Kakashi berated himself. The pain in Iruka's face was real – the betrayal, the sorrow…those things were destroying the brunet as well as, or perhaps even better than, any blade could.

"Iruka…I…" Kakashi started out, unable to think of a way to explain himself. Should he apologize for what he had done, though he had already poured his heart out to the young man when he had been certain he had killed the kind-hearted teacher? Or would it be more appropriate to go to him and hold him? How would Iruka react if he got down on his knees and begged for the man to change his mind – to somehow find it in his compassionate nature to take him back and give him – them – a second chance?

That small part of his mind that he tried his best to ignore also had to wonder what Iruka would do if he simply left. How would Iruka take it if he did not explain himself? Should he wait until Iruka first apologized for nearly killing so many in an angry fit? What if he refused to speak to the man until the teacher fully explained himself – the demonic chakra, the drastic changes in his features?

Looking at the brunet, Kakashi still felt a wave of unfamiliar emotions hit him. Of all the emotions, there were two prevalent ones that he could not ignore as he watched the teacher study him in turn. Love for Iruka tightened his chest painfully. Never before had he become so close to someone, he worried about their opinion of him, but he now wished the teacher would – could – return the emotion.

The other sensation that wracked through his body was one that made Kakashi grimace. Distrust. No matter how much he cared for the teacher, he could not shake the suspicion he felt as he studied the man. No one – no human – should have that dark chakra coursing through their veins and still look so normal. No person should be able to slowly step forward with a grace that was inhuman. No mortal should be able to trick his Sharingan, to control water, to master demonic chakra…these were things the loyal shinobi could not deny.

The only question he could ask himself was how he could love someone when he obviously knew nothing about him – about who and what he was, what he had done to become the being he had transformed into for a short while?

--

Iruka watched the emotions flicker in Kakashi's natural eye, recognizing all of them as he felt similar emotions raging through him. The betrayal was still a raw wound that ached as he tried to think of some plausible reason Kakashi could have for doing everything he had done.

Not only was it Kakashi's actions that made Iruka suck in a sharp breath as he recalled those many months he had forgotten for so long. How could he have forgotten that Kakashi was the one who was always hanging around his apartment, who waited for him to get off of work to walk him home? How did he not recall their long discussions that gave him an insight into the man Kakashi was – the person his harsh lifestyle had turned him into?

He had forgotten that Kakashi had cute dimples, that he was unbelievably handsome, and that he loved to smile and laugh when they were alone. He had even forgotten their first kiss – and their one night together. No matter what Mizutamari Mari did to his memories, it did not make up for Kakashi leaving him to run off to Suna without so much as another word to him. Did Kakashi find him that revolting that he had to escape to another entire Hidden Village? That was the only reason Iruka could come up with that would explain his actions.

Stepping backwards, distancing himself from the jounin, Iruka studied Kakashi, keeping his eyes away from the jounin's face. He knew that if he looked into his eyes too long, he would find his resolve – his anger and betrayal – weaken because of his love for the man. No, he had ever right to be furious with Kakashi for what he had done.

Seeing the jounin's body weave slightly, Iruka realized that it was sheer stubbornness that kept him standing. Leaning onto one leg so much that he had no weight on the other, Kakashi could hardly keep his balance, but he still stood there, an arm cradled around his middle while the other hung limply against his side.

It did not take more than a moment for Iruka to list the jounin's numerous injuries. One femur had been snapped, which explained why he refused to put weight on it other than the briefest of moments as he stepped backwards. His other leg was crisscrossed in deep lacerations, as was his torso. The arm that hung lifelessly had been dislocated. He had a heavily bleeding injury that stretched from his temple to the back of his head, a cracked skull, and a broken nose. From the discoloration of his face, a cheekbone was shattered, along with portions of his jaw.

It was a miracle Kakashi had been able to say his name. Then again, it was beyond belief the jounin was still alive and conscious, much less standing there looking at Iruka with such a myriad of emotions, the teacher was floored. This was not the same man he had known over a year ago. This jounin was more in-tune with his emotions – with himself. Of course, his understanding of his emotions made them all the more readable as Iruka studied him and found himself recognizing one emotion above all.

Distrust.

Iruka stepped backwards as he recognized that emotion. A year and Kakashi could still not bring himself to simply trust Iruka when he said that he was not a danger to anyone. Glancing over at his teammates – to his son – momentarily, he felt tears prick at his eyes. No, he was far from being harmless. Taking a shaky breath, he realized that Kakashi had every reason to be suspicious of him.

Though Kakashi was right in being wary, it still hurt to know that the jounin thought so little of their one-time close relationship that he now could not even bring himself to entertain the possibility that Iruka was a loyal shinobi who would not consciously harm anyone.

That emotional pain seeped into him slowly, not blindsiding him as those flashes of memories had earlier. He had been forced to remember Kakashi so quickly, he had no time to grasp what had happened, much less to realize his own emotions. No, he had been a coward and escaped into himself, knowing full well what could happen.

The same temptation dangled in front of him now, but Iruka knew better. He had seen what that dark side of himself could do when he was hiding from his emotions and the world around him. To live without any pain and sadness was a luxury Iruka could never afford if he did not want to turn into the monster Kakashi believed him to be.

Before Iruka fully realized what he was doing, he turned and ran, seeping into the ground and transporting himself far from the arena. He would not hide inside himself again – it was too dangerous for anyone around him. No, he would do anything to keep himself from losing himself like that again. This time, all he could do was run from the man who had caused him such pain that he was not sure where he was running to; he only knew that it was away from the man who had broken his heart.

--

Authoress: Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you all stick around for the final chapter!! So, until next time, ja ne!