Chapter 1 – Selfish Desires
Okay this is my first Naruto fic, and probably my best fic to date. I'm still not overly confident in my writing skills, especially since it takes me forever to write something of this quality. I hope this isn't too OOC and I'm also sorry for the sudden shift from humor to angst. This is an angst/romance fic although I'm sure they'll be the occasional bit of humor.
Eventually this fic will get done. This I'm actually writing it with some sort of plan in mind! (Although it seems to change every second day...) Yay pre-planning!
Yeah this is a yaoi fic with lemon planned for later on. must brush up on writing citrus Also I have planned for some slight SasuNaru in a later chapter since I love those two as well.
For the record, the character of Raurau is an OC but he most likely won't have any role at all. :P Just don't concern yourself with his importance at the moment.
I don't own Naruto but I worship the manga-ka that created it as a GOD...other than that ON WITH THE FIC!
"And so," Asuma grasped the bottle, ready to pour yet another shot. "We're unofficially screwed." The small sake cups were yet again filled to the brim. Both appreciated the crystalline flow of intoxication. In a couple of seconds each was downed, and Asuma was yet again letting the smooth liquid slosh into the cups.
"I'd call it more officially screwed, really. The orders were from the Hokage after all," insisted Kakashi.
"Yes," He nodded in ascent, smiling. "But what can you do, really? Ninja's jobs are to..."
"Protect with loyalty and devotion." They said simultaneously, before going into roving fits of laughter. Asuma clutched his sides and other slapped his leg in drunken amusement.
Rolling his head backwards, the jounin had a rare moment of weakness, "None of use could run away then. We couldn't."
A week ago Tsunade-hime had presented the elite jounin of the town with a choice. No one dared blink or look away from her steady, determined gaze. Duty was the terrible burden and gracious fulfillment of the occupation. When presenting the mission details she stated, "all who just wet themselves can leave now. And feel no shame in not defending this great town." It was all in an effort to weed out the least loyal, and coerce those feeling guilty.
"Yeah but it's not so bad. We'll be back right?" Asuma slapped a hand against Kakashi's back.
"Hmmmm...." Holding the cup between his forefinger and thumb Kakashi rotated it, observing the light patterns in motion. "But supposing something was to happen?"
"Nothing's going to happen, okay. You, Raurau and I are all in this together right?" His smile was slightly lopsided.
Closing his eyes Kakashi leaned back, focusing on a discoloured portion of the wall. "How can you bare to be without Kurenai for so long?" It was a rare moment of weakness
"Well that is uh..." he blushed. "We'll take care of all the loose ends we have tonight. I'll be uh...proposing and that's it. I'll just have to promise to stay alive that's all."
"Really, that's all?" he asked, amused.
"Yes." Asuma knew where this was going...
"You're sure about that?" The mocking tone in Kakashi's voice made it seem as if he was teasing a burly child.
"Yes!" He went red.
"Hah, Asuma you old dog." Poking him the side he continued, "Well if you need any tips." He rested the spine of Icha Icha Paradise against his nose.
"Yeah, I'm sure Kurenai'd be really pleased if I started taking sex lessons from that thing"
"Hey this thing is better than the fuckin' Kama Sutra." Pretending to pout, he forced the book into Asuma's face. Swiftly he snatched the book, pilfered through the pages and chucked. Eyes widened, as he became engrossed with a story about bondage.
"Huh...maybe. Supposing your right...it's still better not to scare of the ladies, with your brand of perversion."
"Well I know one person who's never objected." Something akin to hentai and melancholy gleamed in his eye.
"Yeah well you did notice when I said the word 'ladies' right?"
"Some of them too...back in the day. That kinky one pineapple one on page 55 was ingenious!"
Finding the page he was scandalized at the description. He coughed. "I've never known fruit to be so...uh...erotic!"
"There's another really kinky one in the 'Citrus Zest' portion"
"..."
"It's the perfect kink to make your sexual experien..."
"They're all kinky!" quickly Asuma cut him off, forcing the jounin to take his perverted book yet again.
"Yes, well some like it that way you know," eyes sparkled remembering the joy that book had given him.
"Hah, he never struck me as the type!" Being one of the few people who knew about the relationship, it was difficult not to meddle. He'd been biding his sweet time trying to find the opportunity to inquire about the problem.
"Sometimes, people will surprise you."
"In what way?"
"Well a lot of them like it; they'd just never say so." A panting, writhing, flushed Iruka ran through his mind as he grew slightly dazed.
At that moment Asuma decided to bring up the subject that had to be causing distress. "So have you told him yet?"
There was an awkward silence.
"Nah. This time of year is bad for him. Anniversary of his parent's death and there just wasn't ever a right time," the material of his mask tightened as if you could visibly see him smiling weakly.
"That's not good. He'll be pissed as hell when he finds out."
"He doesn't need the pain."
"You're just going to make it worse for both of you."
"You're probably right," acknowledging it he sighed into his hand.
Giving a steady gaze he continued, "For as long as you've been my friend Kakashi...sometimes I just don't understand you."
"I'll tell him tonight, it's what I was planning all the long." A long satisfying gulp of liquor was taken out of the bottle.
"Why do you persist in torturing yourself?" There was only one reason, and he wanted to say, 'It's because, it was my fault. If I don't come back it'll be my fault again. And it's just that's it!' but instead remained his stoic, composed self.
"Why are you still here?" Asuma sighed. "I won't try and correct your false guilt right now, but I demand that you get your ass up and out of here, and talk to Iruka!"
Kakashi looked towards his friend seeing a harshness that wasn't often there, and smiled. It wasn't as if no one cared for him. With his past loved ones gone, that wasn't to say that his shield had left him without anyone. So he gave a two fingered wave and a "sayonara" before leaving in his mid-afternoon stupor.
One week ago, in the still of night, he sat enveloped in the darkness. Shadows licked every contour of his body and mind, kneading the dark side of his will. Knuckles were white, hands clasped around the scroll. There was an overwhelming refusal to let go, and acknowledge the rationale of his leaving. Choice was out of the question. As a ninja he accepted the parameters. The Hokage gave him one week to leave his life behind, perhaps for good.
It wasn't that he didn't have confidence in his skills. Constant training meant that he'd grown stronger since that day. It's just that sometimes things happened as you didn't intend them to.
Tsunade-hime had gone to some lengths to explain in detail all the skills needed; diplomacy, stealth, fighting prowess and intelligence only being the cusp. The unknowns were numerous and the mission time indefinite.
Since international war might soon be up them, acting ignorant had to be their forte. The villagers still didn't know. Behind the scene precautions and preparatory measures were going on, the citizens just didn't need to know. It was better off being left in the dark if it meant avoiding mass panic. So many tragedies were still fresh.
Kakashi thought of his situation. Potentially, it could take the rest of his life. Potentially he could die. Not that he feared the retribution of death, what gripped him more painstakingly was the idea of not pursuing what he likewise should have already possessed. He and his lover suffered from an overwhelming lack of trust, so he could never attain that acceptance.
Outward depression was never projected, even to the one he wanted to share it with most. Being in the cage was maddening yet he knew nothing else.
Everyday of this week Iruka would wake up early; Kakashi would roll over in bed asking if he was okay. "Yes," he would reply leaning down to lift the bottom of the mask and give the jounin a light kiss. Then...
"Do you want me to come?"
"No it's better if I do it alone." Pretending to snore into the pillow, Kakashi would listen for the front door to close. During the times he looked out the window, he could see the man stooping down to pick buttercups in the garden below.
More than once he'd followed Iruka to the cemetery, always certain to maintain a safe distance. "So very different yet so much the same," he would whisper wishing to take the younger ninja in his arms and kiss away the invisible tears.
But far-be-it for him, the loving boyfriend to do anything. They hadn't reached that stage. Building it up from scratch was what they'd agreed to and neither of them had opened their heart enough yet.
Once he left for the mission...that would be it. The hope of not dying was a stupid one. They had both lost too much to hold onto such a feeble optimism. If he died a few tears would be shed, but nothing compared to his own ceaseless agony so many years ago.
On that night loud thunder strikes and harsh stinging rain mimicking the feeling of cruel melodrama. Yet melodrama usually denotes something that is unreal. If he closed his ears he could still hear the screams. Clutching him to his chest, a feeble hand reached up touching the eye.
"It's okay," he mumbled. "It will be alright, never, never, never again." Then the hand fell.
Fear, anger, sadness and vengeance all crushed his chest simultaneously. The bitter taste of blood and salt wet his chapped lips. The moans were stifled by an overwhelming desire to kill the savageness within himself, by quieting the victor's breath. Dethroning.
"Never again!" he screamed. "I'll get stronger. Never never never..." he reiterated.
Unless you were a hermit, the condition of dying hurt someone. Iruka shouldn't feel more pain but he wanted there to be someone to cry in the end. To know enough to say, "I love him." Maybe it was selfish but it was his only desire.
Sweaty hands pocketed the mission instructions.
Now it was a week later and he pulled them out muttering to himself. "I've fucked up the best thing I had going for me."