Pretty Wings
A Kakashi x Iruka fic
by Magnificent Meow
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AN: Thanks for the comments on the last chapter. All you people who leave long reviews are amazing :O. I love you. XD (I like the short ones too, but they read quickly.) I'm really glad to see people concerned about the direction of the plot, and I've gone over this in my head many times. I promise I'm doing my best to keep it interesting and worth your time. :3
Of course, if it goes awry anywhere it'll be this chapter... o.O
No pressure now.
::sweeps the cliché bunnies under the carpet::
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Chapter 3: Legend Reborn
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Iruka looked between the two men in front of him, more confused than ever. Kakashi? I know that name, he paused, scanning his memories. Why? Does the Hokage know this man? The chuunin held his jaw from dropping rudely in the presence of the other two, not wanting to give away his own ignorance and confusion.
"You are causing trouble," the robed old man continued.
Kakashi.
Scoffing, the masked man crossed his arms, but said nothing, still maintaining direct eye contact with the inquisitor.
Isn't he that missing nin?
Without any spoken response, the Third pressed on. "It's been a long time, Kakashi. I don't care what you do with your life, but you are not welcome to ruin the peace of this village."
I didn't know he was still alive. How did he...survive?
Shifting slightly, the spiky haired figure chose to keep his silence, a daring move in the face of the Hokage.
And his head protector. It's... blank. Like he scratched off the symbol...
"I see," Sandaime spoke. "You will say nothing. Very well then. I only wanted to confirm that you are indeed who I thought you were."
Could it really be him?
"Iruka-sensei," the Hokage called suddenly, snapping the chuunin's thoughts.
Iruka tried not to look startled. "Y.yes?"
Pulling the sensei closely so that he might hear the whispers, the Hokage began to speak. "I know this is a bother, but since there are no classes on the weekend and you are injured..." he paused, considering his words. "Would you stay here and help the doctor? You are rather skilled with medicines and I believe you would be an asset here, both knowledge-wise and force-wise."
The chuunin nearly choked. "Uh, Hokage sama... I... um..." Shaking his head the young sensei caught himself before saying anything stupid and bowed to his elder. "Yes, of course sir, I accept the duty."
The Hokage smiled. "I'm sorry for any trouble this causes you, but we must be on high alert these days and I need every capable ninja on guard. It's best you work here and stay away from too much danger until you are fully healed."
With a quiet sigh, Iruka tried to hide his doubtful expression beneath his still bowed head. "Yes, Hokage-sama. I can work on any paperwork while I'm here."
"Good," said the Hokage. "I will trust you with this then. There will be many guards nearby if you have problems. Afterwards, I promise we will sort things out before classes begin on Monday." The old man let out a sigh and looked at Iruka with concerned eyes and a hopeful smile. "Good luck to you."
Rising from his position, Iruka pursed his lips and nodded, doubtful expression still visible. Good luck, indeed.
As the Hokage tread softly out of the room, closing the door behind him, Iruka stood there watching in a silent dumbfounded misery at the old man who had handed him his new fate. The room almost felt ten times bigger now, and empty of any hopeful promises. Now he was alone with this...Kakashi...watching him. Worse, he could feel the man's one visible eye boring a hole through his back
And I thought this day...
...would get better..
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Kakashi glared at the newcomer who was speaking with the Hokage. He was a plain man, still young, though he appeared worn out and tired from the hard life of the shinobi. Or perhaps it was just the injury taking its toll. Of course, if that young man looked so tired (Iruka-sensei? Is that what the old man had called him?) then the masked ninja could only imagine that he, himself, looked ten times worse. Life could be so cruel.
Ignoring that, Kakashi let his eyes trace over the scar that marked Iruka's face, a horizontal one that strangely complemented his own and crossed the bridge of the man's nose. For some reason it gave the chuunin a childish appearance, and he couldn't help but wonder if the sensei was the same way inside. Simple? Innocent? For a moment he could imagine that the man had a kind heart, but the thought passed quickly as he reminded himself that even the most heartful and caring of all ninjas could still fall to the purity of hatred.
Hate was such an easy feeling.
It appealed to even the most basic senses.
With an unheard sigh, Kakashi let his dry eyes close for a moment. He could hear what the Hokage was saying well enough to understand that this Iruka person would be his 'keeper' of sorts for a little while, but he remained confident that he could break free once he was healed. He wasn't an idiot, no matter what people took him for, and it seemed likely that the chuunin would make the same mistake that they all had.
Hatake Kakashi. A man who only knows how to run.
He supressed the laugh.
Assumptions were a foolish thing to make.
When the masked ninja drew his attention back to the duo it became apparent that the geezer was leaving. In his wake, the young chuunin stood worriedly looking at the departing Hokage, listening to the sandals shuffling softly across the wooden floor. Soon enough the door was closed like the sealing of a fate; the trapping of the prey. The chuunin stood alone. A fly in the web.
For a brief moment the only view Kakashi had was of the sensei's back, the tuft of hair that sprang from his top knot blowing gently from the slamming door. The man had yet to face the silver haired nin to introduce himself, but perhaps he was just shy.
"Yo," Kakashi called, hoping to get the ball rolling. Much to his pleasure and surprise the brunette spun around immediately to meet one locked eye, but he still said nothing.
Hn. Kakashi thought. This could be a boring stay if my toys aren't worth playing with.
"Well," the silver haired man began again, "since you already know my name, the least you could do is introduce yourself," Kakashi lifted his eyebrow and shot the man a lazy expression, "right?"
Iruka cleared his throat before responding with a don't-mess-with-me glare and raising his own brow. "My name is Umino Iruka," he said, bowing for the sake of politeness, "and I will be watching you."
The scarecrow looked at the man with a questioning glance and a 'hn?', pretending like he hadn't heard a word of the conversation that had just passed in front of his face. He was a little surprised, though, when Iruka made no additonal remarks.
"So, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi dwelled upon the name as he tilted his head, "it appears as though we're stuck together. The Hokage has abandoned you here."
Iruka scoffed. "The Hokage did not -abandon- me here, I agreed to perform this duty."
A raised eyebrow played above one half-lidded eye.
"Did he? It seems to me that he doesn't think you're a capable shinobi." Kakashi began to push himself up from his seat. "Even an injured man can still fight, but he left you here to watch after me"
Kakashi could feel the aches in every crevice of his body. For whatever awful reason someone had found it funny to make the human body capable of dealing with only so much pain. The silver haired nin hoped to find his way to a place that was more comfortable, but he hadn't expected this. His head pounded, his heart sped up. He felt...dizzy.
Maintaining his ground, Iruka shot a cold glare at the masked ninja who now stood warily in the corner. "Someone in your position shouldn't be making such comments," he quipped firmly.
With shortening breaths, Kakashi closed his eyes as he pulled his way over to the bed. Perhaps it was a mistake to have moved from his position, but now as the chuunin-sensei spoke, the words began to meld together and the room began to spin. He felt unbearably nauseous, an experience he hadn't felt in years. His breathing became tight, quickening with each moment.
"Besides, I --"
Was that damn chuunin still speaking? Kakashi shut his eyes harder trying to stop the room's uncontrollable movement. He wasn't sure anymore if the room was spinning of if he was in some sort of sickening dream. Heat rose to his cheeks. He felt flushed. He felt... he felt...
Foolish.
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"Hokage-sama!" Several shinobi called out to the elderly man as he made his way down the hallway. "Did anything happen?"
Looking upon the ninja in front of him the robed figure waved his hand. "Nothing of importance. I've asked Iruka-sensei to help the doctor while his injury heals. That is all."
Several glances passed between the Leaf Village members before one finally spoke. "And the identity of the man?"
The Hokage smiled. "That's not relevant. Leave it be."
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Iruka cut off his lecturing statement and watched the spiky haired man in confusion.
"Hatake?" he asked formally. "Are you okay?"
Kakashi did nothing but stand there next to the bed, staring at blank space. Concerned, Iruka watched silently, wondering if he should speak louder or slap the shinobi, but he did neither, worried that it was all a ploy. I might be here to help, but I need to keep my guard up, he thought to himself. If this is a trick I swear...
When a hand flew up to the man's face Iruka noticed the beads of sweat. He's heating up...
"K..Kakashi!" Iruka stuttered. "You're gonna faint if you don't --"
Movement. Suddenly.
When a streak of silver hair began to slip down towards the floor Iruka dashed towards it, having to leap in order to catch the falling ninja. With quick skills, Iruka positioned himself so that Kakashi's head would fall safely in his arms rather than the floor, and his body...well...he'd have to worry about that later. Landing on his knees with a sudden thud, the two were tangled on the floor; one unconscious, one barely breathing.
" -- be careful," Iruka sighed, both relieved and aware of the current stupidity of his phrase. A mess of black and silver lay in his arms, heavy, warm, and mostly uncomfortable. Several beads of salty liquid dripped onto the chuunin's uniform, but he didn't pay much attention to them. Instead, as he caught his breath, the chuunin pulled the forehead protector from Kakashi's hair and used it to wipe away the sweat that slipped down the man's cheek.
He's passed out completely.
"Baka," Iruka sighed through parted lips. "After so much blood loss you shouldn't be standing up to begin with."
Gently, the chuunin laid Kakashi on the floor, but he couldn't hold back a cringe as pain ran through his shoulder. I think I just made it worse, he hissed, suddenly regretting the fact that he hadn't let the missing-nin just drop. He shook off the pain and looked down at the silver haired mess, pulling off the man's mask to check the pulse and make sure he was getting enough oxygen. Satisfied that it wasn't all a trick of the mind and that the man had -actually- just passed out, Iruka
ignored the pleas from his shoulder and hoisted the man into his arms.
I'd say you owe me, but...
...you don't seem like the type to return favours.
Hoping to place the taller man into the bed, Iruka held him tightly, worried that his shoulder would give way under the added strain. Where's that damn doctor when you need him? Iruka sighed.
The bed was higher than he had thought.
Finally achieving (relative) success, Iruka wandered over to the other side of the room to the cupboard, picking out a cloth which he immediately wet with cold water. This, for the shinobi's forehead. While there, he also grabbed hold of a blanket since there was no way he would be able to lift Kakashi again to put him under the sheets. Thus, the blanket would have to do to be used as a throw over.
This ninja was proving to be such a pain.
With the blanket and watered-down cloth both in place Iruka brought his hand up to his own forehead to make sure he was actually alive. I'm still sane, aren't I? He took a deep breath. I hope...
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Time passed slowly as Iruka studied the figure of the man on the bed. Without the mask Kakashi seemed almost fragile; delicate with his pale skin. It was hard to believe that this man was the person that Sandaime said he was.
The young chuunin clutched the room's only chair and sat his heavy body upon it, resting his elbows upon his knees and hanging his head low. God, has it been that long already?
He took a deep breath as if it helped his mind reach back to the past. It was a funny thing, what time could do to people.
The story was no longer told, banned by the Hokage years ago for being based on lackluster assumptions with the potential to tarnish the reputation of a fellow ninja. No one spoke of it any longer, and most people who could remember the tale likely figured the man behind it was dead. Death was a logical conclusion, after all. Iruka wasn't even sure that he knew the full story anymore since it had been so long, but he could remember the gist of it; and it hurt.
He skirted over the essence of the story in his mind, knowing why that name - Hatake Kakashi - sent a chill down his spine. It was the tale of the scarecrow - a traitor. A man who disappeared when they needed him most, and a man who had let an entire village down in the midst of disaster.
...Would my parents still be alive if he had...
A young and talented shinobi.
... Would they...
With skills beyond his years.
... could he have...
The youth had become a jounin at such a young age - a reliable ninja with the power to use the sharingan - the knowledge and ability to learn and re-use others jutsus.
... made any difference...?
One of Konoha's finest.
...twelve years ago...
No one saw it coming. The downfall of the great Leaf Village copy ninja.
Iruka sighed, turning to the man who had been a cause of grief for so many people. "Are you really copy ninja Kakashi?" he mumbled, secretly hoping the sleeping man couldn't hear him. The pieces fell into place and even the Hokage himself claimed it to be true, but Iruka didn't want to believe that such a tale would be fact. If it was the truth then that made the man in front of him one of the most hated figures in Leaf Village history, and he would probably still be so hated today had the Hokage not locked away the scroll that held the tale and forbade anyone from speaking the man's name.
Trying to push away the thoughts and questions that flooded his mind, the chuunin-sensei couldn't help but feel the pain of that forgotten past. He remembered that for awhile there were people who blamed Kakashi for the deaths of their loved ones, even though there was no possible way that the suddenly-missing nin had a hand in any of it. Still, the man's disappearance - on that day of all days - seemed like so much more than a coincidence.
I was still so young then, a genin who couldn't make a difference. But you. You should have been there. Where were you, Hatake Kakashi? We could have used another...
Trying to keep his sanity, Iruka cursed under his breath, worried now that had been assigned to watch a traitor. He traced his eyes over the unmoving form, clenching his fists and closing his mind to get rid of the anger that welled within him. When his eyes opened and he stood to look at the figure once more, Iruka could see much more closely the character-defining scar that draped vertically over the left eye, the mask that hung loose around his neck, the deceptive silver hair.
Why do you get to live when they had to die?
All together it was like the man was hiding, ashamed of something, and Iruka couldn't help but feel what he didn't want to feel. The stories, the hatred; it was all locked away in his memory. Shinobi weren't supposed to be emotional, even when it came to resentment, and Iruka prided himself on being a ninja of self control. If anything he wanted to be logical, but just by looking at the man he couldn't keep the thoughts away, and it made him sick to his stomach.
Not only do you have your past, but last night you injured both Naruto and myself, and maybe even others.
Iruka kept his head down as he tugged mindlessly at his shirt sleeves. He hated to feel this way towards a person, but from all he had gathered about Kakashi there was nothing within him to like. He was just a heartless, cowardly ninja. Nothing but a man in a mask. For some reason Iruka couldn't place the feeling, but something told him that it just didn't seem right for the man to be alive.
Without something precious to keep themselves going, most people give up.
So...if that's true...
Why are you still living, Hatake Kakashi? What do you hold so precious?
TBC
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O.o. I'm not filling in all the details. :D Sorry. I guess that's the way I like it.
Well, I considered giving Kakashi and Iruka some sort of connected history, but I couldn't think of a way that would keep it both un-clichéd and logical (I like logic) So I hope this isn't too disappointing. Beware the angst. There will be more of it. o.o... it always works into my stories even when I don't plan it.
I'm also assuming that Kakashi was a jounin by the age of... what... 14? ::counts:: Sure :D
If I could just write out the whole story and give it to you I would, but it takes time. Thus, I leave this segment for you. Disappointing? Or no? Plus I kinda rushed this chapter. Lemme know if there's anything wrong or if it went too fast and such.
