Thanks for all your reviews and opinions on the latest "twist" in the plot. Although it is unfortunate that no one believes Kakashi that they were once together, I think making Iruka believe it has never been very important for him. He realizes that the connection they have in the present time is what really counts; the past is past, and even if they have their memories intact, people can still grow apart if they lose that emotional bond with each other. Still, he's tried so hard and for so long without success, he's given up…but he's just having some difficulty moving on. (sigh)
And because you didn't leave an email address for me to reply your review,
To Senna-chan: I'm glad to see you're all caught up by the drama of this story. (grin) Like someone commented before, this fic has potential to be a soapie on TV.
To Aliria: Yeah, it's an angsty story…but I do intend for it all to lead somewhere. (smile)
And now, back to the story…
Chapter Twenty-One
I'm actually just passing through and saw your name on the medical roster, so thought I'd just drop by.
Iruka rolled his eyes as he strode past the hospital reception area, heading for the stairway.
Why hello, Kakashi-sensei! Fancy meeting you here!
Iruka winced at that one and turned at the top of the stairs, starting down the corridor towards the wards.
Tsunade thought you might be going loony and told me to come talk you out of it.
Iruka groaned and shook his head.
No, no and definitely no.
Before he could think up any more possible openings he could use to greet Kakashi and broach the disconcerting purpose of his visit, he had arrived at the jounin's hospital room.
Staring at the door before him, Iruka rested a palm against the varnished wood and hesitated, trying to work up the courage to enter the room. He swallowed nervously, clutching the flask of soup he had made more tightly in his hand. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and pushed the door open slowly.
He almost laughed when he peered into the room. Of all the scenarios he had pictured as he geared himself up to seeing Copynin again, he had failed to consider the most likely one.
Kakashi was asleep.
Iruka's lips curled into a soft smile as he slipped into the room, closing the door gently behind him to avoid waking the man. But his smile faded as he made his way quietly to stand by the bedside and looked down on the pale, sleeping face of his friend.
Kakashi lay very still on the hospital bed, his lean frame slack and so deeply asleep with either drugs or fatigue he did not even stir as Iruka drew near. Messy silver hair tumbled disheveled over his closed eyes, stirring gently with every deep, even breath he took. Weak sunlight flittered through the partly drawn shades and illuminated his face. There were deep shadows under his eyes and the scarred one looked slightly swollen and tender.
He had lost weight, Iruka noted with a pang.
Kakashi was thinner than he remembered. Even with most of his features concealed by the mask, the jounin's cheeks appeared hollowed and gaunt, the dark fabric of his mask stretching over the prominent slant of his cheekbones. He looked more exhausted and worn than he had ever seen him; no wonder Tsunade was worried.
There were faint lines around his closed eyes and in his brow, signs of pain and a deep sadness that even sleep could not entirely erase.
Iruka breathed out a soft sigh, his heart constricting as he crept closer to study him, wishing he could soothe away the sorrow that was troubling his friend so. To help him, protect him, even if both his help and friendship were unwanted.
One hand lay curled on the blanket, wrapped to the forearm in white bandages. It brought a wry smile to his lips.
He's hurt his hand again. Iruka shook his head ruefully, remembering how he had sat by Kakashi's side and held the same poor abused hand a few months ago.
He reached out and almost touched the bandaged hand when he caught himself. As though woken from a trance, he blinked and drew back.
The room was very quiet, they were very alone, and it suddenly struck him there was something distinctly tender and intimate about watching Kakashi sleep like this.
He looked away uncomfortably, embarrassed and uncertain about what to do in such a situation.
In the end, he picked up the thermos of soup and backed slowly out of the room, shutting the door as carefully as when he first entered. Then, he breathed out a slow breath, steadied himself and knocked firmly before swinging the door open once more.
As he had intended, Kakashi was roused by the sound and was blinking sleep out of his eyes as he stepped back into the room. But when he realized who was at the door, the jounin started, mismatched eyes widening as he tensed as though to sit up.
Their gaze met and for a long moment, neither said a word.
Propped up on an elbow, Kakashi stared openly at him, drinking in the sight of him like cool water after a terrible drought. In that unguarded moment between sleep and full wakefulness, his emotions skimmed close to the surface and reflected unchecked in his eyes.
There was an honest, desperate longing in that gaze that made Iruka's stomach do a funny flip, thinking that perhaps…just perhaps, Kakashi had wanted to see him as much as he had wanted to see the jounin.
But the moment passed and with deliberate nonchalance, Kakashi looked away. The eyes shuttered, expression melting off the masked face as though it was never present.
The jounin didn't even bother sitting up fully, instead, brushed a careless hand through his rumpled hair as he lay back in bed languidly in an open show of disrespect. He cast Iruka a lazy glance.
"If you're visiting someone, Iruka-sensei, I'm afraid you've got the wrong room." He drawled, his tone cool and uncaring.
Iruka narrowed his eyes, undeterred. "On the contrary, Kakashi-sensei," He announced primly as he strode into the room. "I have the right room because it's you I've come to visit."
Then, seeking to prevent their conversation from escalating to an argument, he gentled his tone. "Look, I don't know what's happened between us…we were such good friends." He sighed as he gazed searchingly into his eyes, trying to convey all the affection and concern he had for the jounin.
Kakashi laced his hands lazily behind his head and said nothing, watching him with casual disinterest. The eyes looking out from under half-closed lids were dark and unreadable, without a single shred of emotion.
His heart clenched, pained by the cold indifference, but Iruka bit his lip and went on. "I worry about you, especially when…" He dropped his gaze, fumbling for the right words to say.
Finding none, he shook his head dismissively and firmed his chin. Put on his best cheerful smile, he took a deep breath and began anew.
"Anyway, I heard you aren't feeling very well lately. It's unusual even for you to be admitted to the hospital this much. If I didn't know better, I'll say this is some sort of strange challenge you have with Gai-sensei." He beamed with forced brightness as he chattered on. If Kakashi was determined to keep up his apathetic silence, then he was going to try to exude enough cheer for the both of them.
"Would you like some soup?" He fussed with the thermos flask he had brought, stoically ignoring the dark calculating gaze of the jounin lying in bed, following his every move. "I'm afraid it's not very good but I just made it before I came and so it's still hot." He smiled warmly at his taciturn companion. "Sometimes having something hot to drink can make you feel so much better, don't you think so, Kakashi-sensei?"
"You've been talking to Tsunade."
Iruka paused in the middle of pouring out the soup from the flask. With a sigh, he set down the half-filled bowl and faced Kakashi grimly. "Yes I have."
Sarcasm flickered in his voice. "Ah…and the old lady thought she'll send you to cure me."
"Yes-I mean, no! Er…it's just, Tsunade-sama is worried about you." He stammered, then added more quietly. "I'm worried about you."
"There's nothing to be worried about." Kakashi spread his arms, his eyes crinkling up into a smile. "As you can see, I'm perfectly fine."
"No, you're not." He shot back, hands balling into fists, growing annoyed by his blasé attitude but trying his best to control his temper. "Just look at you! You're obviously not taking care of yourself, making yourself sick, overworking like some stupid zealous rookie jounin eager to prove himself on his first day, stubbornly wasting away for some silly delusions and-"
Iruka snapped his mouth shut, horrified by what he had just said.
He had come to visit Kakashi because he was genuinely worried for the man, hoping that he could do something-however small-for the jounin he cherished as his dearest friend. He hadn't come to lecture him, much less accuse him of anything, or imply that whatever ailed him was the jounin's own fault.
But it was as though once he had started, he couldn't stop himself. All his concern, frustration and nerve-wrecking anxieties for Kakashi had tumbled out with his words, making his tone sharper than he intended, snowballing as he spoke until it became something unforgivable and painfully harsh.
He rested a hand on the edge of the table and clutched it tightly to steady himself. "Forgive me, Kakashi-sensei, I-"
"Hn. Delusions, eh?" There was wry amusement in Kakashi's voice as rolled the word over his tongue, tasting it like a fine wine, completely unruffled. He chuckled humorlessly. "Maa, I guess that means Tsunade thinks I'm losing my mind."
"You…er…" Iruka shook his head miserably. Between Kakashi's surprisingly calm reaction to the healer's diagnosis and his blunt statement of the awkward issue, he could hardly come up with an appropriate response.
"Ah Iruka-sensei, if that is all our esteemed leader is afraid of, you can tell her not to worry." He told him airily, waving a hand in careless dismissal. "I'm in perfect control of all my mental faculties."
Holding his bandaged hand up against the background of the ceiling, Kakashi splayed his fingers and stared at his injured hand contemplatively for a moment.
"And this," His voice was oddly quiet and hollow, as though he was speaking to himself and had forgotten Iruka was in the room. "This is just a phase. I've experienced losses before so I know. This is just another loss, a normal reaction to yet another loss." He looked directly at him and smiled bracingly. "So don't worry. If I'm not all right now, I will be soon."
The jounin dropped his hand back to his side and gave him a rakish grin. "Besides, all those romance novels do say that broken hearts need time to heal, right?" He added flippantly, with just a hint of a tease.
Iruka groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead in frustration. They weren't getting anywhere. Not when everything Kakashi said was barbed with open hostility or coated with a layer of fake cheer and distinct lack of concern.
He sighed. Shaking his head slightly in admonishment for Kakashi to be serious, he tried to broach the topic he wanted to discuss with the jounin once more. "Kakashi-sensei." He said carefully. "What makes you so sure we used to be together? How can you know it's not er…a misjudgment of our close friendship?"
Kakashi raised an amused eyebrow at the euphemism. He shrugged casually and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I just know."
"Because of my journal with writings about our relationship?"
"Most of it, yes."
"Which you could have easily produced using the Sharingan."
"True, I cannot deny that."
"And do you not wonder why there is no other proof or keepsake of our time together?"
"We're not exactly the sappy, sparkles-of-love-in-our-eyes sort of couple."
"And no one knows about this? Somehow in a village full of ninja, no one knows?"
"Maa, what can I say, we're better ninja than the rest of the village I guess."
Iruka resisted the urge to bang his head against the nearest wall. He glared at the jounin who simply lay in bed and grinned smugly up at him. It was useless to talk to Kakashi when he was determined to be as difficult as the naughtiest student in his class, and the jounin was much better at mind games than any child could ever be.
The circuitous logic led nowhere and proved nothing, yet somehow Kakashi could be so irrationally firm and unwavering in his belief that they had once been in love.
It was all giving him a headache.
"Iruka-sensei." The jounin spoke again as though reading his mind, a trace of laughter in his voice. "Just let it go. You're going to give yourself a headache if you think about this any harder."
Iruka fumed silently as he frowned at the jounin. But all his exasperation could hardly mask the worries in his heart.
And as he stared at Kakashi, eyes roaming over the shadows under the mismatched eyes to the almost delicate jut of the collarbone where the thin hospital shirt was unbuttoned at the throat, his anger faded, replaced only by a fresh wave of concern.
Feeling defeated and drained, he sighed and dropped heavily into the chair beside the bed. His head bowed. Clasping his hands so tightly together the knuckles were white, he studied his laced fingers and spoke.
"Please, is there anything I can do to help?" He asked softly, stricken by the thought that Kakashi was suffering and he had no way to ease it. "Is there anything I can do to make it better for you?"
There was a soft rustling of blankets as the jounin sat up and a bandaged hand covered both of his tightly clenched ones gently.
Iruka looked up and found himself looking into Kakashi's eyes. The dark eye was distant and wistful but the tomes of the Sharingan spun slowly as though he was deeply moved. The jounin seemed about to say something but changed his mind.
Instead, he gave his hands a brief squeeze and released him. "Iruka-sensei, you are truly a nice, wonderful man. You could never bear to see anyone suffering without wanting to help, wanting to make things better."
"But there are some problems even you can't help make better." The jounin sighed, suddenly sounding patient and resigned, like the wise older brother who had seen too much, learnt too many harsh realities of life and was doing his best to teach them to him. It made Iruka feel young and foolish despite their small difference in age.
"And this is one of them."
Then just as abruptly, his mood shifted.
"Maa, I guess I did this to myself. Silly of me to think we could go back to the way we were." The jounin rolled his eyes and gave him a sardonic grin. "It's never the same the second time round, eh Iruka-sensei?"
Iruka gritted his teeth at that self-deprecating tone, over-wrought with worry that Kakashi was still not taking his condition seriously, frustrated at his own inability to help this person whom he cared for so much.
"It didn't happen, Kakashi!" His hands balled into helpless fists. "When will you realize that and stop doing this to yourself?"
Kakashi looked away, silver hair falling over his face and shadowed his eyes. For a long moment, he was silent. There was an odd tremor in his voice when he finally answered.
"It happened, all right?" The firm resolution was clear even though his voice was quiet. "Even if no one else knows, I know, and that's enough for me."
"We were in love, it really did happen." He repeated, turning his head back to look at him. The mismatched eyes were dry but bright with a thousand hurts that made Iruka's breath catch in his throat. "Knowing that it happened…that's the only thing left to me now."
"Please don't try to take even that away from me."
Iruka gasped, overwhelmed by the terrible sadness and devastating sense of loss in the jounin's voice. Kakashi was looking at him pleadingly. For the first time since they started their conversation, the jounin was neither coldly expressionless nor flippantly mocking.
With all pretenses cast aside, he finally saw the heart wrenching anguish Kakashi was suffering.
The anguish that Iruka's mere presence, his very existence was causing Kakashi.
It was too much for him to bear and there was only one thing he could do.
"I'm sorry, Kakashi-sensei. I-" He sprang to his feet, clumsily knocking the chair over in his haste. Tears were stinging his eyes and he turned away quickly.
Unable to manage another word, he ducked his head and ran out of the door.
Kakashi stared after Iruka's retreating figure, his own emotions still too frayed to react to the chunin's abrupt departure.
Watching the steam rise gently from the bowl of soup Iruka had prepared for him, he wiped a tired hand through his hair.
"Is there anything I can do to make it better for you?"
He laughed softly and shook his head. Who was he kidding when he said the surgery had changed the chunin?
Iruka hadn't changed, not one bit. He was still that same warm, kind man with a demon of a temper but with the sweet, compassionate heart of an angel he had fallen in love with.
Iruka was still that headstrong, independent young man, intelligent and capable at everything he set his mind to do. He had pulled through his debilitating illness, mastered his fears, learnt how to walk again and went back to his job as a teacher and shinobi all on his own. Away on a mission, Kakashi wasn't even there for most of the chunin's time in the hospital, struggling to get well.
In contrast, he couldn't even do a decent job of moving on without the schoolteacher.
It just showed what he had suspected all along. Iruka didn't need him; rather, it was he whom had always needed and depended on the chunin.
Kakashi rubbed tiredly at the Sharingan and sighed wearily. Drawing the blankets around himself, he lay down and closed his eyes, wondering how he could even rest after everything that had just happened.
But the light, warm smell of miso soup with eggplant soon lulled him gently to sleep.