Hey everyone. Sorry this chapter is so late. I had a bit of work to do and to make sure I did it I had to make a deal with myself to postpone this chapter until it was completed. Anyway, lets get on with it, shall we?


The urge to stay floating in the black was tempting. Here, he could drift along in nothingness to his content, swimming through the ink lazily at his leisure. It was serene here, nothing to distract him from his thoughts.

Then again, being alone with his thoughts was probably not the wisest suggestion, since all he could think about was the fact that Izumo was gone, regardless of if he stayed in the darkness or came back to reality.

Kotetsu floated there, thinking about where he'd rather stay, when a soft pressure dabbed at the bridge of his nose. But there was nothing here. Nothing except himself, and he lightly trailed his fingers over his cheekbones; feeling the slices of the letters carved by his hand form underneath his fingertips. The light dabbing continued and it felt strange. He couldn't see anything else apart from his hands and body but he could physically feel this. Something brushed against his cheek and he quickly whipped his face around to glance over his shoulder.

Nothing.

So what was this? Where was this coming from? Panic abhorred his steady stream of thought and turned his mind erratic. Was he being attacked? How can he defend against something he couldn't see? He waved his hands in front of him quickly, clutching at empty space. Suddenly, blood erupted from his wounds and flooded over his body, and the darkness began to fill with his own blood. It poured relentlessly and started to rise. His hands gripped at his face, trying to stop the flow but it was useless. The sickly sweet copper seeped between his fingers and added to the flood. His breathing became gasps, his eyes widened before he squeezed them shut tightly, saying a prayer before his head became submerged in the crimson sea.

With a painful and ragged intake of breath, Kotetsu sat bolt upright, panting and covered in cold sweats. His vision was blurred and his head thudded painfully in his temples. His wrist ached and he shook his head, still panting and gasping for air when a voice broke through his eardrums.

'...-tsu...Kotetsu...calm down...it's okay!'

Wide-eyed with fear he turned his head slowly and the tanned face of Iruka swam in and out of focus until his vision cleared up.

'Kotetesu, breathe.' Iruka said calmly, gently trying to push the other chūnin back to lay down.

'Its okay...I'm here...easy now.'

'Iruka...' Kotetsu breathed, his head hurting considerably now.

'What...what are you doing here?'

'I'm looking after you.' Iruka said calmly, the panic in Kotetsu's system slowly leaking out of him at the comfort in his voice.

'Naruto's orders.'

'I don't... Don't need to be... Since when do you have whiskers?'

Iruka's hand brushed his chin instinctively before he let out a light, breathy laugh. Indeed, copper whiskers had developed into a small fuzz over his chin.

'Since I've been waiting for you to wake up.'

'What do you mean?' Kotetsu asked, confused as he looked around bleakly. This was his room, no doubt, but it felt different: empty even. He looked at his right wrist and noticed an IV drip attached into him, eyes following the clear tube back up to the transparent bag suspended next to him.

'Whats happened to me?' He asked, suddenly feeling very weak and limp.

'Well, Naruto asked me to check up on you when...anyway, I came around and all I find is you passed out on the floor coated in blood...practically swimming in it.'

'That was only yesterday...'

'Kotetsu, you've been in a coma for seventy-two hours.'

'Huh?!'

'It's true, believe me. Sakura's been here, hence that.'

Iruka pointed to the IV, before moving a small tub off of the bed.

'Hold still. You've opened your cuts up again.'

Kotetsu's fingers flew up to his face and dabbed lightly, taking them back and watching a light drop of blood trickle off the tip.

'What have I done?' He breathed, sickened by the sight of his own blood.

'Do you want the truth or a rhetoric answer?' Iruka said, smearing a lime-green ointment onto Kotetsu's face lightly and rubbing it into his wounds. Kotetsu sat in silence, shaking his head lightly as Iruka worked, the strange-smelling ointment wafting up his nose.

'What is this?' He said, trying to turn his face away from Iruka's hand as he went to apply more.

'It's a scar ointment.' He said simply.

'Stop wriggling! Trust me this will help you. You've done some severe damage to yourself.'

'But it smells funky.'

'Kotetsu, please behave.' He sighed, waiting for him to turn his face back towards him.

'I know it's a little rank, but trust me when I say that this is going to help it heal. I use it on my own.'

Slowly, Kotetsu turned his face back to him, pouting like a child.

'Okay...' He conceded, letting the tanned chūnin apply the last amount of medicine and letting him rub it into his lacerations.

'There. That wasn't so bad, was it?'

'No...'

'Kotetsu...are you okay?'

'...I have to piss something awful.'

'Nngn, you haven't realised yet?'

'Realised what?'

Iruka sighed and pointed at the bed with one finger.

'Huh?'

'Look under.'

Curiously, Kotetsu lifted his quilt and a look of surprise crossed his face before one of grotesque swapped over. Catheter. Of course.

'Oh.'

'Sakura told me not to let you take it out until you've been awake for a while.'

'...serious?'

'Completely. Just incase you get put back in a coma.'

'Can I sit up then?'

'If it'll take your mind off of it, sure. Here let me help.'

'Thanks.'

Kotetsu felt very weak and drained just from simply sitting up. He felt woozy and the room was spinning. Iruka held him steady and looked him in the eye, trying not to stare at the blatantly obvious name of his deceased partner staring at him in a mixture of lime and ruby red letters.

'I'll ask you again...are you okay Kotetsu?'

Yes.

No.

Yes. Yes. Yes he was.

'No...' He said quietly, avoiding Iruka's soft brown eyes. He'd like to lie to himself, to tell him that he really was okay. But how could he be alright? The last thing he remembered was carving out Izumo's name in his face. In his face for crying out loud! Iruka's hand squeezed lightly on his shoulder sympathetically.

'You've both met with terrible fates, haven't you?' Iruka said quietly, his hand slowly massaging Kotetsu's shoulder, as if trying to rub the worry out of him.

'Iruka...I don't know how to feel.'

This was as true as he could be. Did he feel angry? Scared? Tortured? He had tortured himself enough as it was. Of course, he was upset and gutted, but surely there was more to this? His parents had died when he was too young to entirely understand what happened to them, and, like Naruto, he was looking after himself mostly at a young age. The difference however, he had his grandfather to watch over him, but he had grown old very quickly, and he wasn't around very long either.

To deal with grief, Kotetsu had always used humour to conceal his grief, no matter how severe it affected him. That's what his grandfather had taught him to do.

He remembered how his grandfather would sit him on his knee, and tell him that laughter covers all wounds, despite how much it could hurt.

"If you can laugh, and show the world your smile, you can overcome everything." He would say, and pinch his cheek affectionately.

"You have the brightest smile in Konoha, Kotetsu. Never let it fade."

"Never let it fade."

Unfortunately, the spark inside of him had been snuffed out. It was all too unbelievable how fast his world had come crashing down around him, dragging him down into minuscule pieces along with it. Silently, he started to cry, and his heart felt heavy and it ached considerably.

'What am I supposed to do, Iruka?' He whispered, trying to wipe the tears away to no effect.

'You're supposed to grieve, and this is part of it.' Iruka replied calmly, swapping from his chair to sit on the bed next to Kotetsu.

'And when you need to talk, this is what I am here for. I've always been here for you to talk to.'

Beneath Iruka's words lay another meaning, but it fell on deaf ears. This didn't surprise him though; everything happened so fast that even he couldn't believe it. Things were going to be different without Izumo around, and the prospect of Kotetsu being his usual self looked bleak. They were always together, inseparable and now, he was alone. His mouth dropped in the corners as he watched the raven-haired sob before him. Iruka would let him cry as hard as he could, for as long as he could. If there was one thing you didn't do when someone was grieving, it was interrupt their flow of emotions.

-x

A few hours had passed and Kotetsu woke from his short nap; his body unable to take in any more sleep. He felt a tiny bit better, but he still felt hollow. It was getting late in the day; just before sunset. Iruka sat at the window, his hand furiously scribbling away at a pile of scrolls that littered a table and around his feet.

What confused Kotetsu was how in the world he managed to move a table into the bedroom without disturbing him from his slumber. His eyebrows knitted together as he studied the tanned chūnin, sitting half-naked in the light, his hair cascading down around his face as he concentrated heavily on his writing.

'That's a new look.' Kotetsu mused, blinking owlishly at a semi-startled Iruka.

'Oh, this?' Iruka said, not even look down at himself but rather at the scroll he was still writing furiously at.

'It's not new, I often dress like this when I'm home. It's more comfortable.'

'Oh.' Kotetsu replied bluntly, still trying to make sense of the small rectangular table propped against the windowsill.

'...what are you doing?'

'Schoolwork.'

'But you're not...'

'Despite the factor not actually teaching the children, I still have their work to mark.'

'...that bites.'

'A little, but I'm supposed to be looking after you.'

With a flourish, Iruka lay down his small brush and sighed contentedly, yawning and rubbing his hand through his whiskers. His body stretched and a flash of black caught Kotetsu's eye. Positioned in the middle of Iruka's left pectoral was a small tattoo. A spiky revolution with a tail. Very tribal.

'You have ink?'

'Hmm? Oh, yeah.'

'Since when?'

'A long time ago.'

These short clipped answers were very unlike Iruka. Normally, he'd go into detail about a topic but he was clearly avoiding the question. It struck Kotetsu as curious, and very odd.

'You're full of secrets aren't you?'

'No one ever asked, so I don't tell.'

Iruka turned his face to the other chūnin, his eyes drooped and tinged with red. He was exhausted, but he had a job to do. This only made Kotetsu feel terrible.

'Ruru...have you slept?'

'No, but I'm okay.'

'Iruka...'

'I have to look after you...'

'I will be alright. I'm awake now...how long have you been awake?'

'Mmmm...around eight days-'

'Iruka!'

'Its fine, its fine!' Iruka waved his hands in front of him frantically.

'I can do this no problem...'

A yawn betrayed his argument and he made a face of defeat.

'Please go get some sleep.'

Iruka nodded, before whipping out one more scroll and performing a seal on the parchment; wherein the scroll and the table disappeared in a puff of smoke.

'So that's how you did it.' Kotetsu said, watching him closely and staring at Iruka's tattoo. Well, he liked to think that it was his tattoo he was interested in, but his muscular physique drew his eyes away, scanning over the tanned curves. He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts in his mind.

'Are you going to be alright?' Iruka asked, he himself feeling drained.

'I can't do much except sit here I guess.'

'Try not to hurt yourself in the process.' Iruka joked lightly before scuffling out of the room. He stopped just before he passed through into the passageway, as if he had recollections.

'Oh, this is for you.' He said, pulling a small envelope out of his pocket and handing it to Kotetsu.

'...I'm just in the other room, okay?'

Something about the way he said that sent a little shiver down Kotetsu's spine. With cautious fingers he flipped it over and looked at the addressee. His breath caught lightly as he recognised the familiar cursive text.

It was Izumo's handwriting.