im sorry for how long its taken me to update this....stuff has been conspiring against me!!! thanks to shichan for beta-ing this and making it worthy of your attention!

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...chapter 7: scattered

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I've got some scattered pictures lying on my bedroom floor...reminds me of the times we shared, makes me wish that you were here but now I seem to have forgotten my purpose in this life. All the nights have been erased - guess I learned from my mistakes...

Asuma checked the piece of paper in his hand again and stared up at the top floor of the apartment block before him, shielding his eyes from the early morning sunlight with a gloved hand. He glanced once more at the torn page, lips reading out silently before nodding once, crumpling it into a ball and throwing it angrily onto the ground and striding purposefully toward the dark doorway. Inside he climbed flight upon flight of stairs before he finally reached the top and turned to the left, counting off the door numbers under his breath until he came to his destination: a door, dark blue paint chipped and peeling, with a large jagged crack running down the centre. He stooped and ran his finger over the scarred wood.

"Hmmm.... this crack couldn't be more than a day old. Well, at least that means he's probably in. Not that that's a good thing...." He cracked his knuckles and growled low in his throat, a harsh, primal noise that was reserved for those whom he wished to shuffle loose the mortal coil. He drew a deep breath before rapping sharply on the door.

No answer.

He checked his watch. 6:15 am. Not that early. "He" was normally up and out by now. He knocked again, harder this time.

No answer.

Asuma liked to consider himself a patient man, but the truth was his temper was shorter than a beetles hind leg, and twice as likely to snap under pressure. His lips narrowed into a thin line as he knocked for a third time, his touch now dangerously soft.

No answer.

He slammed his fist onto the door repeatedly, adding to the spiderweb of cracks before grabbing the doorknob and giving it a vicious twist, almost breaking his wrist when the door suddenly swung into the room. He stumbled, thrown off balance, before grabbing the door and using it to pull himself upright. He coughed and glanced left and right, as though checking to see if anyone had witnessed his little "mishap". Come on Asuma! Don't let this little...(expletive deleted!)...get the better of you! Be the better man here! He closed his eyes and composed himself before finally venturing further into the dark room.

A shaft of pale sunlight, not yet reaching the furthest corners of the room, illuminated a glittering mass scattered over the wooden floor. Asuma crouched to examine the shimmering sea, a puzzled frown creasing his face when he found it to be tiny fragments of glass, and many different types of glass at that. Most of it seemed to come from the broken picture frames that littered the floor. There were also edges of torn paper amongst the rubble. He reached to pick one up when his finger hovered over a strange mark on the floor. He leaned down for a closer look. A dry reddish-brown pigment stained the floor. He touched it with a shaking finger, before lifting it gingerly to his nose. Yes, the metallic tang of dried blood...it lasts for days. That's what they DON'T tell you in ninja school, kids!

He stood, rubbing his goateed chin, and looked around the room. The rumpled bedclothes, the broken mirror, the furniture upturned. Only one thing came to his mind.

Someone got here before me! BASTARD!

Asuma clenched his fists and made to storm out when a faint hiss of cloth moving caught his well-trained ear. He stopped and turned back, eyes narrowing. He stared into the furthest corner of the room. His ears pricked up when he heard the noise again. It was definitley coming from over there. He made to take a step forward but looked down at the ground to make sure he wasn't about to stand on anything unpleasant when he noticed the other mark. Or rather, the marks, plural. His eyes widened as he found the trail they mapped out over the length of the room, running across the floor and over the furniture, spatters here and there on the walls and various articles of clothing. Even the bedclothes had large streaked bloodstains running widthways across them, leading back and to the right, towards a corner.

What the hell happened here?! It's like some sort of cheap slasher flick! Great, knowing my luck I was beat to it by some kunai-weilding homicidal maniac who didn't even have a reason as good as mine! When I get him I'm gonna -

He cut himself off in mid thought as he heard the noise again. It was coming from the direction the blood lead in. He took a edgy step forward, carefully moving over the glass and around the assorted items in disarray, following this macabre version of the yellow brick road. He strained to see into the blackness, mouth hanging open in concentration. His jaw fell further when his eyes finally picked out the faint outline of a bare shoulder, a strand of hair, a red eye.

A RED EYE?

In the corner of the destroyed room, huddled half-naked and bloody, was Kakashi.

In the blink of an eye, Asuma had vaulted over the bed and was on top of the jounin, eyes blazing in anger. He seized Kakashi around the throat and hauled him upwards before smashing him into the wall. He was quite a few inches taller, so Kakashis sandalled feet were barely scraping the ground.

"I finally found you, you little shit weasel!!" He shouted full volume into Kakashis face, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth. "I've been looking for you since you got back but as usual the great copycat ninja is harder to see than the wind. But HAH! No more! I've got you now! Just you - " He suddenly stopped his tirade and actually looked at Kakashi. His pale face was covered in bloody handprints, and his eyes were glazed and unseeing. His gaze travelled down Kakashis body, which seemed to be covered with a roadmap of angry red scratches and the gentle light from the window just highlighted the tiny fragments of glass embedded in the ninjas hands. Asuma blinked and wiped away the froth that had collected at the corners of his mouth. He shook Kakashi a few times. Nothing. He lowered him to the ground and moved his finger from left to right in front of Kakashis eyes. Nothing. Asuma sighed. No matter what he might want to do to Kakashi, it just wasn't honourable to beat up on an injured person without good cause. Sure, Asuma felt his cause good enough, but he seriously doubted the Hokage would see it that way. He took a step back and rubbed his eyes. Kakashi slumped against the wall again.

"Kakashi." Asuma said eventually. "What happened here?"

Kakashi did not answer. He merely hung his head and stared at the floor. Asuma ground his teeth and tried not to lose his temper."Kakashi, please just answer the question. What happened here?"

This time Kakashi merely shrugged.

Inner Asuma gave a Wakaheiti death cry and beat Kakashi to a bloody pulp. Real Asuma, however, restrained himself. "Okaaay, i'll rephrase the question. Who did this?"

This got slightly more of a reaction. The jounin raised his head and looked at the roof as though searching for the answers there. His dry lips parted.

"Sorry, dickwad, I didn't quite hear that. WHO DID THIS?!"

"...m..."

Asuma snapped. He lunged at Kakashi and grabbed his shoulders, pulling him up to his level.

"WHO DID THIS?!" he roared.

"M - m - me." Kakashi whispered.

Asuma squinted, confused. "What do you mean, YOU did this? It looks like someone took a bomb to this place! Are you SURE someone else who heard of your little 'escapade' didn't get here before me and decide to oh, I don't know, teach you the lesson you damn well deserve!"

Kakashi chuckled feebly, then croaked. "Oh, trust me, Sarutobi-san...no-one could teach me a better lesson than the one I've taught myself."

Asuma smiled at being addressed as 'Sarutobi-san'. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. "Well, I suppose it's at least nice to see that you've learned your place now. Anyway, I didn't come to exchange pleasantries. The Hokage wants to see you."

Kakashi narrowed his eyes. "But you - you said you were looking for me. Surely if the Hokage sent you...."

Asuma waved a hand. "She just didn't want me to know where you lived. She wanted me to find you in the street or something, so I wouldn't be tempted to....thought that if I knew where you lived I might....." He trailed off. They both knew what he would have done had he known exactly where to find Kakashi alone.

"So...how DID you find me?"

Asumas expression hardened. "I think we both know the answer to that."

Kakashis stomach heaved. He would have thrown up if it wasn't for the fact he hadn't eaten in 3 days. Iruka....Iruka had told Asuma where he lived, knowing full well what would happen! Tears pricked his dry, sleep-deprived eyes.

"HEY!" Asuma barked. "Don't you DARE cry over Iruka! He doesn't NEED your tears, or your pity, or ANYTHING from you!"

"When did you see him? At least tell me that!"

Asuma sniffed. "About half an hour ago. I went to his house and found him just leaving. I asked him and I must say, he was most reluctant to give me your address. Seems even after everything, he still wants to protect you...." He grimaced then spat. "He actually told me not to hurt you...I tell you, if it wasn't for the fact you're already half done in, I'd have given you a taste of your own medicine and made sure Iruka was none the wiser." He stepped closer to Kakashi, backing the jounin into the shadows and leaned his head down close to Kakashis face. Kakashi could smell the nicotine on his breath and almost feel the enraged chakra crackling off his limbs.

"But i'll tell you this for nothing Kakashi: one of these days, someone is going to bring you down a peg or two. Might be me, might not. You wont know until it happens. And I can assure you...whoever it is probably wont be as honourable as I am." He gave him one final glare before turning on his heel and striding to the still-open door. Just as he grasped the handle, he heard a small voice.

"A - A - Asuma....?"

"What now?" Asuma barked, without turning around.

"C - could you, maybe...see your way to teaching me another little lesson?"

Asuma stared at Kakashi, whos lips were parted in a small, strained smile. "What, and risk losing my job AND my reputation when you go mouthing off to the Hokage? No thanks, mate!"

"No, no, you misunderstand." Kakashi waved a hand in the air. "I really feel I need this....I promise, I wont tell a soul."

Asumas eyes narrowed. "And why should I help YOU?" he sneered.

Kakashis grin widened a little. "Because you want to kick my ass. That's about it!"

Asuma grinned himself and turned back towards Kakashi, cracking his knuckles as he advanced across the room.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you..."

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Kakashi blinked and gently raised his hand to his mouth, grimacing as he felt his fingers dampen. His aching muscles screamed as he used the bedclothes to drag himself upright again, placing both hands against the wall until he regained his balance. "Ugh...he didn't have to hit me THAT hard..." He clutched his stomach as he padded slowly and painfully toward the bathroom.

Well, you did literally ask for it.

Hmm, well maybe my adrenaline is having a slow day.

He fumbled for the overhead light, finally getting a hold of the long string and giving it as hard a tug as his weak arms would let him. He recoiled slightly as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror over the sink. Oh my god, he thought. I've seen corpses half-eaten by crows that look better than me right now... His once-shining mop of silver hair was now a tangled grey thatch, and the bags under his eyes were almost at his knees, the whites almost completely lost amongst the broken red veins. I guess not sleeping does that to a guy... His gaze travelled down to his lips, which were a slick and shiny crimson. His shaking fingers had just touched the small slit in his top lip when the shaking suddenly travelled from his finger to his hands, from his hands down his arms and before too long it had engulfed his entire body and he stood trembling, eyes wide and staring, as he felt the andrenaline surge through every vein in his body, practically oozing from his pores.

He closed his eyes.

White light flashed inside his eyelids as he put a finger on either side of the cut and pulled gently, the soft pink skin tearing wider and wider and longer and longer until it reached from the tip of his cupid's bow to right under his lip until it curved into his mouth. Kakashi groaned slightly as his tongue tickled the wound, shuddering slightly as the metallic tang of blood scratched his parched mouth. Finally, he opened his eyes and took his his reflection again. A grin curved across his stained face and he rolled his head back against his shoulders and rolled his eyes in his head, purring and giving himself a little shake.

Mmmm......

Kakashi gave himself one more shake before began to gently tweezer the grains of glass from his fingers before he turned on the tap and began to wash his face. The Hokage would probably have a heart attack if he turned up looking like he had gone ten rounds with a rather irate buffalo. Tsunade may look like a young woman, but she was still old inside and Kakashi really couldn't handle anything else on his conscience at the moment. He dressed in his usual sweater and trousers (yet again neglecting to don his jounin vest, ) adding the finishing touches with his mask and hitai-ate before grabbing his keys and swinging happily from the window and flipping onto the rooftop, taking a moment to take in the beauty of Konoha bathed in morning sunlight before he began his jog across the rooftops of his neighbours.

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As his leaps and bounds took him ever closer to his meeting with the Hogake, Kakashis heart seemed to sing with an unexplained happiness. He felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. It made him feel extremely perculiar, the sudden disappearance of the crushing guilt over the way he treated Iruka. Perhaps he felt he had been punished enough, perhaps he had just realised it was time to move on. Perhaps he just didn't care anymore. Either way, he decided not to dwell on it, just in case he ruined this sublime feeling. No point in searching for an answer to a question that was never really asked.

Little did he know his answer was just around the corner.

While Kakashi was being "taught a lesson" by Asuma, Iruka had been sitting in the coffeeshop near the school, mulling over the possible consequences of his actions. He hadn't really wanted to give Asuma Kakashis address. He knew no good would come of it, but he had been brought up to respect his elders and well, there was no denying that Asuma was no spring chicken! So he had handed it over grudgingly, assured the worried shinobi that he was fine and no his stomach wasn't giving him any trouble, and continued his daily routine. Up every morning at 5:30, and washed, dressed and out the door by 6:00, just in time for the first steaming batch of strawberry and white chocolate muffins arriving at the 24-hour coffeeshop that had become his place of worship since he broke his coffee machine in an uncharacteristic fit of anger. His gaze slid to his shirt sleeve for a second before he sharply looked away again. Only he knew what was concealed below the rough navy blue fabric. Iruka hadn't planned it, it just...happened. The machines glass coffeepot lay smashed on the blue tiles of his kitchen floor and as the chuunin bent to pick up the pieces, the strangest feeling had come over him. A sort of...need. A hunger. Irukas hand twitched as he held a large shard up to the light, mesmerized by the way the light played upon its fractured facets. Before he knew what he was doing, he had swept it down onto and across his left forearm in the split second before he threw it into the bin. He stared unflinchingly at the blood oozing from the wound like a beautiful scarlet lily blooming. He didn't really feel much in the way of pain, more just a strange sense of release. As though the flowing blood was carrying all his cares and worries down the drain as he ran his arm under the cold tap. After that, he had wandered in a daze to the hospital to have his arm cleaned and, unfortunately, stitched. Iruka hated stitches. Stitches meant scars and he had never thought himself interesting-looking enough to carry off the scarred look without looking a complete tool. So he sat and fumed silently while the kind nurse tenderly disinfected the cut and dressed it, giving him a gentle warning not to be so clumsy in the future. He had thanked her profusely and made his way home, where he proceeded to take each and every vaguely sharp knife from his kitchen drawer and score long red lines into his skin.

That was 3 days ago, and the reason why his arm was heavily bandaged under his sweater, although he was careful not to allow his blade to stray below the line of his cuff. This was personal and he didn't want anyone else to poke their noses into his business. Tsunade had been insufferable over the past few days, constantly sending one person or another around to see if he was okay, offering him time off work or even a job in her personal office so he wouldn't be under any strain. Couldn't she see she was just making matters worse?! He couldn't let Kakashi get to him forever. He had to be strong. He had coped since his parents died and he would cope now that his heart was, to all intents and purposes, dead along with the remains of his relationship with Kakashi.

He shivered as a snatch of the other nights events flashed before his eyes, snapping out of his dream just in time to stop his mug from hitting the table. He stared down into the muddy brown liquid as though searching for salvation in the dregs. It just sloshed lazily against the side of the cup, offering no answers. Sighing, Iruka put the mug down, dropped a few coins onto the table and dragged himself out the door to continue his journey.

It just so happened that this was the exact second Kakashi spotted him exiting the shop when he was in the middle of an extremely LONG jump, and thanks to being distracted, missed the point where he SHOULD have put his foot down to land, instead nearly breaking his shin as he smashed into the buildings drainpipe and pitching downwards through lines of washing strung between the two buildings. He flailed wildly, desperately trying to grab hold of anything to slow his descent but this, unfortunately, wasn't Kakashis day and his fall only stopped when the ground came up to meet him. He landed flat on his back with a winded "OOMPH!", crushing his eyelids closed as a flame of pain screamed up his spine. He gasped for air and coughed a few times, gingerly testing his limbs to check they were all still functional. Arms...check. Legs...check. Neck...debateable. He screwed his face up and took hold of his jaw, wrenching his head back around with the sickening CRICK of vertebrae mashing together.

Ugh, GOD that hurt! But....damn! That felt good! It's been a long time since I felt this - alive!

"Umm...."

Kakashi froze. He knew that "umm". He had heard it many a time, normally in conjunction with phrases like "Is that supposed to go there?" and "Can it really go that way?!?" A pained expression creased his face as he turned his head to the sky and slowly opened one eye.

Oh, God....

Kakashi had, as is in accordance with Sod's Law, landed right at the feet of one petrified Umino Iruka.

-----TBC-------------------------

O.o