Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this innocuous interlude. Oodles of respect for Masashi Kishimoto, the creative force behind Naruto. Please do have patience with me and with the ninja with no regrets.

EIGHTEEN: HOLD TIGHT

Iruka woke to has last day in the mountain village with his thoughts in a whirl. How was he supposed to act? But his own words came back to him, laced with conviction as he'd thrown them at Hound. This wasn't an act.

"Well?"

He turned his head and met Sukea's waiting gaze.

The photographer arched his brows.

"I want to tell Kisame and Itachi first," said Iruka. "Because I'll be saying my goodbyes all day long."

Sukea's smile deepened into a dimple. "To the bathhouse?"

"We shouldn't be late," he agreed.

"Not too late." There was a gleam in Sukea's eye. "I probably wouldn't be able to resist one last goodbye. Verisimilitude."

Which led to a brief and entirely juvenile tussle, one artfully placed hickie, and a hint of whisker burn in suggestive places.

"Satisfied?" Iruka grumbled.

Sukea smiled beatifically. "It will seem so."

Iruka couldn't deny that was the point. "But won't you be leaving with me?"

"Is that an invitation?"

"Can it be?"

"No." Sukea opened the door for him. "But it's not exactly goodbye, either. Right?"

At the bathhouse, Iruka didn't beat around the bush. "I'm going home after the festival. Tonight's it for me."

Kisame scowled.

Itachi asked, "By choice?"

"No." Iruka was embarrassed how sharply that had come out. "My people sent for me. I guess the doctors must have told them I'm improved."

"Let's make your last day memorable." Sliding in next to Kisame, Sukea added, "Though it's a shame to break up the party."

Kisame grunted.

Iruka hoped it was a good sign.

Much as they had the day before, after a leisurely soak, they joined the crowds and made a gradual ascent. Sukea squandered an indecent number of coins on savories and sweets. Iruka felt spoiled … and special.

There were even more people than on days previous.

Nobody was in a hurry, but they all had the same goal.

"Is there room for all of us at the top?" Iruka asked.

"Plenty," promised Sukea.

Kisame grunted. "Never had trouble getting people to give way."

Iruka chuckled.

With a sidelong look, Itachi asked, "Your tag?"

"I have it here." Iruka pulled his official one from the sleeve of his kimono.

In red ink, on the side intended for wishes, he'd used his best penmanship.

To be where I am needed.

Itachi blinked slowly twice, then turned the tag to see what Iruka had written in black. "No regrets?" he asked softly.

"None." With a friendly jostle of elbows, Iruka asked, "Will you show me yours?"

Reaching into his sleeve, Itachi produced a tag. He must have opted for the brushes instead of the markers. His calligraphy was beautiful.

In black ink on the side of regret, kanji spelled out a single word. A name. Sasuke

Iruka sighed deeply and nodded before flipping to the opposite side, where Itachi made his wish known to the god of the mountain. The very same kanji had been rendered in red. His brother's name. Sasuke.

Suddenly, it was hard to breathe.

Blinking back tears, he offered it back.

"You will regret me." Itachi tapped Iruka's tag with one painted nail. "You might as well put my name on here."

"Maybe you're right." So much could go badly. "But maybe you're wrong."

Snagging another blank as they passed another stand, Iruka set to work anew. His calligraphy wasn't up to Itachi's standard, but the result was legible. First fanning it to dry the ink, he passed along the copy. "Hold onto it. In case you need a reminder."

To be where I am needed.

Iruka solemnly added, "I regret nothing."

After a few moments, Itachi wordlessly slipped the tag—and its message—into his sleeve.

"Kisame had the most wonderful idea! Let's do this again sometime!" Sukea exclaimed, coming to drape his arms around both their shoulders. "More hot springs? Somewhere with sea air? I've heard delightful things about mud packs and salt scrubs."

"You'd want to?" Iruka knew this was the plan, but he hadn't expected such immediate success.

"I'll swoop in and steal you away from your people." He bussed Iruka's cheek. "Don't ever doubt that."

Itachi looked to Kisame, who smirked and said, "Maybe I'll help. Wouldn't be my first kidnapping."

Iruka probably should have been more alarmed by the offer. But it seemed kindly meant.

Then Sukea was jotting off addresses. "I can be reached via any of these newspaper offices, since they'll know where I've been assigned."

Kisame glanced at the list and shoved the paper into the pouch at his belt. "Might be a while."

"No hurry." Patting his camera, Sukea said, "Gotta earn my keep. And his."

They reached the mountain god's shrine in plenty of time for the ceremony. Before Sukea could toss his tag into the heap that would shortly become a bonfire, Iruka poked him in the ribs. "You said you'd show me."

"Did I?"

"You definitely did."

Sukea passed him the tag. On the side that had been blank the night before, red ink made his wish.

This. Again.

Iruka softly asked, "How will I find you?"

"Doesn't work that way." With a thin smile, Sukea said, "I go where I'm told. Do what I must."

He knew that. On some level, Iruka even accepted it. But he didn't want to say goodbye. "What if I need you?"

Sukea's expression softened, and his tone lost its edge. "I'll miss you, too."

"This it, then?" demanded Kisame. Clearly, he wasn't one for tender goodbyes.

"Yes." Iruka offered a small shrug. "I'll be gone before breakfast."

The Mist nin glowered at him for a few moments, then grumpily ordered, "Don't die."

"You, too," Iruka called after him, meaning it despite everything.

Itachi murmured, "Until next time."

"I'll see you then."

With the barest of nods, he walked away, as if the things he left behind no longer mattered to him. But Iruka knew better. Or thought he did. He wondered if he'd ever be able to find the words to tell Itachi that missing someone wasn't a regret. It was love.

End Note: originally posted on January 12, 2020. 1,014 words.