Lily: i'm going to work on this Iru/Kaka fic and a separate Luffy/Zorro fic, maybe another Sasu/Naru fic on the side. Ah well. I appear to have become something of a yaoi obsessor. =^O^=
Naruto: Pretender
Chapter One
Remember
Iruka sobbed and dug his knees into his eye sockets, trying to choke the flood of salty water that coursed down his face. His black hair swung freely, covering his face like a curtain. The hair band that held it back had long ago been torn off by bushes and brambles. Iruka had run here, deep in the forest, to hide.
His parents had been killed by the Nine Tails a few weeks before and this was the first time that Iruka had cried since then. And now that he had begun to cry it was nigh impossible to stop. Iruka dug his fingers into his scalp, punishing himself for such an overt display of weakness. But still, his thirteen year old body shook with heart wrenching wails.
Iruka was so absorbed in his misery that he didn't even notice the slightly older shinobi walk up behind him. The boy was probably about fifteen years old, he wore a mask that covered his nose and mouth, his Hitai-Ate band was brought down over his left eye and his bushy gray hair stuck out all over. He crouched down by Iruka and lay a gentle hand upon his shoulder. Iruka whirled around, smacking the hand off his shoulder.
Leave me alone, he said in a strained voice.
said the other boy, something's wrong. Tell me what it is,
Iruka looked at the boy. He didn't know this boy. Why should he trust him? Why shouldn't he trust him? He needed someone to talk to and this impartial stranger just might be that person.
It's my parents, said Iruka in a more subdued tone of voice.
What's wrong with them?
They're... they're dead. Nine Tails killed them when he attacked the village. I'm... alone. I don't have any other family. No one else...
Saying the words had impressed upon Iruka the truth of the matter and the finality of it. It brought another wave of grief, but no tears.
The other boy put his hands on Iruka's shoulders, rubbing his fingers into the tense muscles and beginning to loosen them.
I don't have any family, either. My team was my family. They, too, were all killed, that's how I lost my left eye. I think I know how you feel.
Iruka sniffed, but leaned into the boys comforting hands.
People who haven't felt loss this extreme can't understand it, continued the boy, all that stuff they say, I'm so sorry', We'll be here for you', I understand', It's all lies. and we know it and it hurts. That's why we pretend to be happy. But some of us can't stand pretending every moment of their regular lives, so they try and shut themselves out. You shouldn't do that. You never know what you'll miss. If you pretend you can still be a part of the real world, you can still make friends. And, one day, if you trust and love your friends enough and the same for them, you can tell them about how sad you are, you can tell them how you truly feel. They may not fully understand it, but it will help to take away some of the pain.
Iruka made a small sound at the back of his throat and wiggled his shoulders as the boy rubbed along Iruka's spine.
So, please, whatever you do, don't shut yourself out. Who knows what you'll miss, who you'll miss and... added the boy in a whisper, who'll miss you.
the boy took his hands away, Iruka gave a small grumble of protest. The boy smiled to himself and stood up, beginning to walk away. Iruka quickly stood and grabbed the boy's hand. The boy glanced down, slightly surprised.
What's your name? Mine's Iruka.
The boy smiled and took his hand away, lifting up his Hitai-Ate band. he revealed pale skin, one blue-gray and one scarred, Sharingan Wheel red iris eye.
Kakashi. Nice to meet you, Iruka. Remember, shinobi are master of illusion, of pretending. Promise me that you'll never give up.
I promise.
Kakashi walked away without another word.
Iruka woke up, blinking his eyes against the invading sun light. The dream -or was it a memory?- was fading into the back of his mind to become bits and pieces enveloped by mist . Iruka rolled over, off his pallet and onto the chilly floor. He grabbed some clean clothes and turned on the shower.
Iruka stood in the shower, liking the way that the hot water made his cold skin prickle, like... like hands running down his back and across his shoulders. Iruka ran his fingers through his hair, water droplets lacing through his thick eyelashes.
Was that dream merely that, a dream? Or was it more, a memory? He was so sure it was a memory, it had felt so real. Iruka was sure that if he felt those hands on his back again he would know, know who it was, know if they had been the one. He dreamt of that... memory so often but he could never remember the boy's name and is face was always hidden by the twilight and shadowed by the moon.
Iruka gave a final sigh, stepping out of the shower, rubbing his body dry and getting dressed. Off to another day of pretending, another day of being nice Iruka-sensei, another day of searching the eyes of everyone he met for that spark that the boy's eyes held, another day of hunting for the warmth of the boy's voice, another day desperately seeking the boy's touch and never finding it.
If he hadn't made that promise to the boy, he would have given up many years ago.
