And the ground below grew colder,
As they put you down inside,
But the heartless wind kept blowing, blowing.
So now you're gone.-Valentine's Day-Linkin Park


Hayate was first. Iruka laughed about it at first. It was inevitable that Hayate would die. He was a shinobi, after all, and sooner or later Death would stop being satisfied with the substitute lives of the people Hayate killed and take Hayate's own life. It was inevitable.

It still hurt. The news tore Iruka's heart from his chest and sent him home to hide for a day. He called for a substitute teacher, because he didn't think he could go through the day with his happy little students without being cruel to them or breaking down and scaring them all. Iruka was a teacher, hated and mean but strong and invincible. He couldn't let his students see him break.

Hayate had been Iruka's friend, maybe his only true friend. After Hayate lost his parents in the Kyuubi attack he and Iruka's friendship started. It was actually three days after the Kyuubi attack when Iruka found the racoon-eyed boy struggling down the ashy street. Coughing and choking on the ash in the air they forged the first strand of an unbreakable friendship. It was impossible to share such a horrific loss and time without forming some sort of bond.

After Iruka's parents died no one would sit by Iruka, who was now moody and violent. He pulled mean pranks on people that always humiliated and sometimes injured the people he played them on. No one wanted to sit next to him because he was dirty and frequently forgot to shower. How much could a ten-year-old be expected to do on his own?

Hayate sat with Iruka. Everyday the meek, clean, woeful little Haya-kun sat by Iruka the monster and helped him. He helped Iruka study for his tests, and even shared his lunch with Iruka when Iruka forgot his own. Iruka still remembered messily dividing up Hayate's peanut butter and honey sandwich into halves and sharing Hayate's little bag of chips and bottle of juice. Hayate was Iruka's best and only friend, and they got put on a Genin team together.

As Genin teammates the two became something like brothers, but brothers that had only each-other to depend on. They were a good team in a fight because they knew each-other so well, and it was hard for them to include the third member of their team. First it had been Ayame, who'd never really managed to work seamlessly with the boys since she fought too much with Iruka, and then it was Itachi, who was so small he had to be protected at first but in the end outstripped his older teammates.

When Hayate became Chuunin and was swamped with missions he found time to meet with Iruka. Sometimes they went out to eat. Sometimes they just sat and talked about old times and where the village was going. Even when Hayate became a Tokubetsu Jounin he spent time with Iruka, and claimed those were the best times of his day. Iruka believed him: Hayate never lied to Iruka.

Then Hayate died. It was a horrible ignominious death that no one could explain. He was ripped apart and left for the carrion crows in his own village. It was a horrible tragedy almost overlooked because of the excitement of the Chuunin Exam, and later it was over shadowed by other deaths. For Iruka it was devastating. He'd begun to think both he and Hayate would live to be old shinobi and retire to civilian life.

It wasn't meant to be.

Iruka crouched in front of the Hero's Stone, and blew out his candle. He honored Hayate's death in the same way he honored his parents' death--the Kirigakurage way. He'd dripped blood onto the open flame of a candle and prayed for Hayate's spirit to find rest and have no reason to walk in the living world. He knew Hayate would understand why.

Iruka slowly stood, and found he wasn't alone anymore. He smiled at the woman behind him, and fumbled for words. "It's good to see you again, Yuuago."

The ANBU looked at him, and smiled thinly. She heard how thick Iruka's voice was. This was the woman Hayate had loved. He'd whispered in Iruka's ear not a month before he was going to ask Uzuki Yuuago to marry him as soon as the Chuunin exam was done with. He'd wanted to share the rest of his life with her. Now they would never have that chance.

"Nothing's nice anymore, and I don't think it ever will be again," Yuuago said with feeling. "I expected you to be teaching today."

"I got the day off," Iruka explained. He knew how Yuuago felt, and he felt the same way. He knew it would fade though. It had after his parent's death and it would after Hayate's death too.

"That's lucky," Yuuago smiled bitterly. "I have a patrol to man in an hour." She placed the incense in her hand on the stone and lit it. It was a traditional Konoha offering to honor the dead. The smoke was sweet and pungent.

"I want to know who killed him," Yuuago hissed. "I want to kill them as they killed him. That's all I want." Yuuago's face was hard. Her eyes were red from crying, and Iruka knew she meant what she said. She wanted revenge. The only thing she wanted was revenge. Iruka a few years ago would have been just like her. Iruka in a few days might want revenge just as badly as she did, but right now he didn't.

Right now Iruka just wanted Hayate back. He wanted to see Hayate one more time. He wanted to share one more boyish night of laughing and sharing secrets as dawn approached. He wanted to spend one more afternoon grading papers while Hayate chattered and cleaned his sword. He wanted to share one more meal of peanut butter and honey sandwiches, juice, and salty chips. He just wanted Hayate back.

Yuuago made a noise like a sob, and Iruka wondered if she would break. He wondered if he would break. Yuuago did sob, and Iruka felt his chest tighten. Hayate was gone. Forever. There would be nothing more of him or from him. Iruka felt part of his life die.

Iruka was terrified that he would forget Hayate's face.

"Hold him still!" Voices, noises, pain, cold. Where was Hayate? Hayate was dead.

"Why? He's delusional. He won't stop struggling until he falls asleep again." A rough voice like a stormy sea.

"He'll hurt himself. He needs to be still and recover." A green voice, strained and breathless. "You're stronger than me, come help." Small hands touched him and held him down. Kept him earthbound. Kept him from leaving to find Hayate.

"A broken bone or two won't matter in his condition. Maybe you should let him break a leg so he won't run off again." The rough voice was joking. Larger hands held him down. He hurt. He screamed and struggled. He lashed out.

"Agh!" The green voice swore. "Hold him down!" He lashed out again. Pain flared in his neck, and he died again.

Hayate's death was just the first blow. Iruka had less than a week to recover from his best friend's death before he was hit with another deadly blow. Sandaime-sama died. He was killed in a glorious battle with his former student, and he saved Konoha in the process. His funeral was attended all the shinobi of Konoha. Iruka was almost too sick with grief to go.

Sandaime had been something special to Iruka. After Iruka's parent's death Sandaime had insisted Iruka visit him about once a week to talk about how Iruka's week had gone. The two shared a cup of tea and Iruka, glad for any attention, babbled happily to the old man. Sandaime kept up his almost weekly invitation to tea until his death. It was amazing such a busy man had time to sit and drink tea with a little orphan brat every week. Sandaime had been an amazing person.

Sandaime had been Iruka's only permanent advisor. He was the one who offered Iruka advice he knew he could trust. He was the one constantly watching out for the little orphan who had no allies save another little orphan with a bad cough. He was the one who made sure Iruka had something to do, and was not forgotten. He was the one who gave Iruka his teacher's position and his students. Iruka loved his students.

Iruka stood in the pouring rain, glad it hid the tears that streamed down his face. He welcomed the numbing cold of the rain, hoping some of the numb would seep inside him. Iruka comforted his heart-broken students best he could, and tried not to show how much he hurt too. He didn't need anyone to know he felt he had lost his grandfather.

Iruka lost two pillars of his world in one short week, and he wanted to curl up and die. The only thing that kept him moving with his students. And Naruto. Naruto, as bright as his dandelion hair, came hopping into Iruka's thoughts whenever Iruka felt like jumping off a tall building. He was a reason to go on. Naruto needed support, and Iruka wouldn't leave Naruto without that.

Iruka had thrown himself into his students as well. He poured himself into them, and prayed for their safety every day. He had three more years to make efficient killers of these children, and he was going to do it. It sounded horrible, but it was the only way to keep them alive. Shinobi life was kill or be killed. There was no other way.

Cold comfort slipped past his lips and down his burning throat. "I swear, if you die now you're a disgrace to all shinobi," the green voice whispered almost gently. "You're twice as stubborn as anyone I know, and I know Kisame. You will get better. The kid--Naruto, needs you. You die and he won't have you."

"Are you going to mention how much you need him to make your life easier?" The rough voice asked. Cold pressed against his forehead. He rolled away from it, but it was pressed onto him again. "You awake Oikawa-chan?"

"Making my life easier wouldn't motivate him to wake up, now would it? Trust me. Iruka has always had a soft spot for kids, and Naruto is, evidently, very special to him." The green voice was calm now. It was in control...of what? There was no control. Control was fake. They were all falling, and no one could fly.

"So, now you're convinced he's not going to die you stop being so concerned? I didn't know you had a caring bone in your body, Itachi," the rough voice crackled with laughter.

"Only for myself. My life will be harder if this idiot died, and I don't want that. I'm still as self-serving and selfish as always, Kisame." The green voice was vague. It was amused.

"That's good to know. I was beginning to think you were going to turn soft on me." The rough voice held menace. Threat. Danger. Fight, no, too weak to fight, run. Too weak to run either. Fight anyway. Go down fighting. That was the way to do it. Fight until the end and even after that.

"Sorry to disappoint you." The green voice wasn't bothered by the threat. "You should know me better than that. I was never soft, and I am incapable of turning soft. I was, to hear some tell it, rotten the very day I was born."

"Aren't we all?" he asked. His throat exploded in agony. Blood welled into his mouth. He died again.

The worst day of Iruka's life since his parent's death dawned bright and cheerful. He headed off to teach, and disaster struck. For the second time in three weeks Iruka was herding a gaggle of children away from the school to the safe place. This time he didn't know why.

He sat with his students for hours and tried to teach them. They, still raw from the attack on Konoha, couldn't concentrate on lessons. Iruka gave up and told them happy stories with happy endings and waited for it to be safe again. Would Konoha ever be safe again? It didn't feel like it. He kept those thoughts to himself.

Kakashi was the one who came to Iruka and told him the children could leave now. He caught the Chuunin teacher's arm and whispered in his ear what had happened. The Kyuubi had broken free. The Kyuubi was loose. Iruka could have punched the man right there. How dare he deliver such news to Iruka in front of his students. How dare he whisper those words where the children could hear. How dare he.

Iruka smiled thinly. "Arigatou gozaimasu, Kakashi-san. I'll take my students home, if you don't mind." Iruka dismissed the man from his mind and turned back to his students. He chattered happily to them as he walked each one home and fought down his sick dread. He had to get his students home safely to their parents. He had to do that first.

As soon as the last child was safely placed in his parent's arms Iruka took off for the site of the incident. He knew where it was. People in the street had been whispering and wailing. Iruka's mouth was dry, and he felt light headed as he dropped from the roof tops and into the broken street. It was vaguely reminiscent of the Kyuubi attack twelve years ago, but it was smaller. This didn't encompass the entire village. This wasn't as bad.

Iruka shuffled down the street and saw the neat line of sheet covered bodies. His heart clenched. How had this happened? How had the Kyuubi gotten out? What had happened to Naruto? Where was Naruto? Was he dead?

"No," Iruka whispered as he saw two people he recognized. He walked numbly over to them and stopped with his feet at the edge of the red stained sheet. He couldn't look up at the crying woman and the teary eyed man. He couldn't. His eyes were glued to the pink hair that stuck out from under the sheet.

Sakura had been beautiful, lively, and promising. With her mind and chakra control she could have saved and killed hundreds of people. She was the first Haruno to be a shinobi, and what a shinobi she would have been. Iruka remembered showing her how to throw kunai–placing the blunted weapon in her tiny little hand and watching her face light up as she hit the target. Sakura had been a future, and now she was only the past.

Iruka stepped back, mentally and physically. He looked down the street, and it was too much. Three weeks was too short a time to loose so much. Three years would have been too short a time. Iruka drew back from the raw wound that was his heart, and tried not to think. There was too much hurt in thinking.

Iruka threw himself once again into his students. He wouldn't let them die. He would teach them to be great shinobi and make sure they lived long lives. He wouldn't let them die too. Too many people were already dead. Iruka was sick of death. He wanted to die.

Konoha then gutted Umino Iruka and threw his heart away. They told him to run a crash courses and have his students only six months into training to be ready for Genin in four months. Iruka knew this was suicide for the children. Ten months was not enough time to make these eight year-olds into killers. Two years wasn't enough time. He needed more time. He wasn't going to get that time, and he'd be sending his students off to be slaughtered.

Iruka buried himself in routine, and driving himself and his students. He couldn't make them good Genin, but maybe he teach them enough to help them live a few more months, days, minutes, seconds. He became a tyrannical monster so they could live. He knew they hated him, but they couldn't hate him as much as he hated himself.

It was hard to get out of bed every morning. Some days Iruka almost stayed in bed and let the world go by him. Only the thought of his little students dead dragged him out. He dropped all mission desk duty, and secluded himself from the other teachers. He didn't listen to who was on a mission and who wasn't. He didn't want know who was dying, dead, or injured. He didn't want to know anymore.

When Iruka was approached with the mission to help trap the Kyuubi he jumped at it. He'd just sent his first batch of suicide students off to die, and he wanted to die before they did. Dying by the hand of his parent's killer seemed as good a way to go as any, and he'd be helping his village. It would be a good way to finally end his grey days.

Iruka went with the ANBU in hopes he would die and go on to rest with Hayate, Sandaime, and Naruto. There was no one else for Iruka now. He'd made a family of those people, and now, once again, he was the orphan with no one to rely on. He'd lost his twin brother; the one who stood beside him through everything. He'd lost his grandfather; the one who'd guided him through dangers Iruka couldn't fight off himself. He'd lost his younger brother; the one Iruka was supposed to protect. He was alone.

But Naruto wasn't dead. Iruka felt the surge of joy. He felt the heady elation at knowing he wasn't alone!Naruto was still alive! Naruto was alive, and Iruka would keep him that way. He wouldn't let anyone kill his little brother again, even Konohagakure. Especially not Konoha. Lies. Traitors. Child killers.

He'd kill them first.

"Hah, his fever's broken." The green voice was pleased. "He'll be waking up soon."

"So pleased you are." The rough voice was annoyed.

"If you're going to gripe, go do something else," the green voice said.

"There's nothing in these woods to kill, except that strange, toothy weasel I found yesterday, and that wasn't any fun to kill. You'd think living in a forest with a demon would be more exciting," the rough voice grumbled.

"You'll get your action soon enough, trust me." The green voice was smug. Cool hands touched his forehead. "As soon as 'Oikawa-chan' wakes up we can move on."

"Wakie, wakie, Oikawa-chan, I want to eat your organs," the rough voice almost sang. There was a chuckle. "Who knows what they'd taste like after you let Kakashi cook them. Organs are best raw, you know."


A/N:It's sort of a filler chapter, but it's got a lot of background in it. This is to show Iruka was depressed as the very beginning of this story and is still coming out of his funk. Italics are actual events, and normal text is what Iruka's thinking about. This chapter, by the way, was completely written in twelve hours. I wish I could write all the chapters that fast...

Thanks to the reviewers:RedTheRetard, Ally Plz, BlackDove-alchemist, WannabeFireFox, Miranda Crystal-Bearer, Nicole Miklos, A kira, Esoretic Memories, Ice Dragon3, a.noni, umino-gaara, MSYOU, icestar-comet-moon, and sasori-kun!

Jaa ne!