Chapter 12

Q & A

Kakashi sat on the edge of his bed, staring out at the sunset. He pushed his fingers through his hair and tried his best not to lose patience with his self-appointed Advocate.

The Chunin-from-hell – as he was now fond of thinking of the man – walked over to him and crossed his arms in obvious frustration. "How can you expect me to help you, Kakashi, if you aren't willing to work with me?"

Kakashi glared at the man. "Iruka, for the last time, I'm not cutting my hair, I will not put the mask back on, and I really don't see any point at all in wearing a jonin uniform any longer. Give it a rest already."

"Why, Kakashi? Why aren't you willing to do it…just for the tribunal, at least?"

He shook his head and sighed wearily. "Because Iruka. If I have to become something I'm not...then what's the point?"

The chunin's eyes went wide and his face flushed a shade of crimson that rivaled the setting sun. "Something you're not? What the hell are you saying Kakashi? That you aren't a Konoha shinobi anymore? That you don't care what happens to the people in this village? That you're perfectly okay with whatever the Akatsuki has planned?"

Kakashi narrowed his eyes in warning at the man. "Careful there, Umino."

"Or what? It's not like you have any chakra right now. What'll you do...beat me to a pulp?"

Kakashi raised his eyebrows at that. "Do you really want an answer to any of those questions?"

Iruka frowned and sat down on the bed next to him with a huge sigh. "No. I guess not. It's just...dammit, Kakashi...you sure aren't making this very easy."

"Did you honestly think being my Advocate was going to be easy, Iruka?"

The chunin flopped back on the bed to stare up at the ceiling. "No – I guess not. But you're going to have to start giving me some answers instead of more questions...or we won't get anywhere."

Kakashi shifted himself so he could meet Iruka's dark eyes. "Well why didn't you say so in the first place?"

Iruka pushed himself up on his forearms until he was partially sitting and glared at him. "See! There you go again!"

Kakashi chuckled and held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, I get your point. How about we make a deal? I'll answer one of your questions for every one of mine you answer."

He watched the chunin's mouth drop open a fraction in something close to shock. "You have got to be kidding me, Kakashi. The tribunal is in less than fifteen hours – and you want to play a game?"

Kakashi shrugged. "What can I say? I get bored easily."

Iruka rolled his eyes but pushed himself off the bed and went to get his pad and pen. "Fine...we'll do it your way, Kakashi...but with a few rules."

"Rules? That takes some of the fun out of it."

Iruka came back and sat on the edge of the bed once more. "Maybe it does...but it's the only way I'll agree to doing it."

Kakashi smiled deviously. "Be careful how you phrase things while sitting on my bed, Sensei."

Iruka chuckled. "I know I should be furious at you for that comment, Kakashi...but a bigger part of me is actually glad to see you return to your familiar perverted ways."

That wiped the smile off his face and made him blink at the chunin in surprise. Wanting to take the attention off this newly rediscovered talent, Kakashi tried to shift the conversation back to Iruka. "So, what are these rules?"

Iruka took the bait and quickly jotted down three sentences on his pad before handing it to Kakashi. He looked at them and raised his eyebrows.

No answering a question with a question.

All answers must be truthful.

Breaking a rule, or failure to answer a question will have consequences.

He met Iruka's eyes with a sly look. "Who determines the consequences?"

Now the chunin smirked. "Whoever asked the question that didn't get answered, or whoever didn't break the rule. So, do you agree to the terms?"

He shrugged. "Why not? How do we figure out who goes first?"

"I'm the Advocate. So, considering the tribunal is the whole reason for this, I'll go first."

Kakashi chuckled at the chunin's reasoning and settled into a more comfortable position. "Sounds good. Ask away, Sensei."

Iruka shifted until his feet were tucked under his body and his pen was poised over the pad once more. "Alright then...first question. Please remember Kakashi that I have to ask some of these in preparation for the tribunal."

Kakashi nodded his understanding and waved for Iruka to continue, although inside he was more than a bit wary. The chunin chewed on his lower lip for a bit before getting to the point.

"How long did it take before you gave in to the Akatsuki?"

Kakashi's eyes narrowed. "That's getting straight to the point." He crossed his arms and pushed down the sudden urge to lie. "Best I could figure it out...it was somewhere around four to five weeks in."

Iruka's pen flashed across the page recording his answer before the chunin looked back up at him with a smile. "Right – you're turn."

Kakashi took a deep breath and tried to shake the uncomfortable feeling the man's question left in his gut. "Why did you volunteer to be my Advocate?"

Iruka nodded once, as though he'd expected the question. "That one's easy! Because I believe you're worth it!"

Kakashi frowned. "That wasn't much of an answer."

Iruka chuckled. "Maybe not, but it's the truth. My turn!"

"You're enjoying this far too much, Iruka."

"Stop grumbling, Kakashi. Okay – next question. What methods were used to break you?"

Kakashi closed his eyes and felt every muscle tense at the chunin's words. He'd deliberately been avoiding thinking about those first weeks with the Akatsuki. The memories of his time with Itachi and Kisame, even now, could cause him nightmares. He opened his eyes to see Iruka staring at him, patiently waiting for his answer.

Kakashi ran his tongue over lips which felt dry, and tried to put his experiences into words for the chunin. "When Kisame wasn't using me for sword practice, Itachi would do much the same within the Tsukuyomi...usually for days on end within my mind."

Iruka looked confused, making it clear Kakashi needed to be a bit more graphic. He sighed. "Iruka, picture yourself fastened to a crossbeam, unable to move, with Itachi standing in front of you with a razor-sharp katana pointed at any one of your body parts. Picture that sword being slowly pushed through your body until it makes contact with the wooden beam at your back and then twisted until you scream out in pain. Now, picture that a thousand times over – nonstop, for seventy-two hours at a time. Throughout all of this pain and torture, imagine being asked over and over again why your village has failed to rescue you...why you have been tossed to the side as so much rubbish...why you should hold loyalty to a place which obviously had already written you off."

Kakashi paused and smirked a bit. "Still, it took them over a month of this before I started to crack. It wasn't hard for them to find a way in... considering what I'd been through over the years...but still, it took far longer than they'd planned."

Iruka's eyes shone brightly with unshed tears, making Kakashi quite uncomfortable. He cleared his throat. "Okay, my turn. How'd you get the scar?"

Iruka blinked. "Which one?"

Kakashi grinned. "Ha! That sounded like a question answering a question to me, Sensei."

Iruka groaned. "But you didn't give a clear question!"

Kakashi chuckled. "Fair is fair, Iruka-sensei. They are your rules, after all."

Iruka placed a pout on his lips, and Kakashi was hard pressed not to laugh outright. "Fine, Kakashi! Go ahead and name the consequence."

Kakashi placed his hands behind his head and leaned back against his pillows. "I think I'll reserve the right to issue that consequence at a later time. So then...let me be more specific for you Iruka. How'd you get the scar across your nose?"

He watched the chunin's hand go up to rub consciously across the bridge of his nose and then across his cheek where the ridiculously straight line of scar tissue lay. For a moment, Kakashi thought the chunin was going to risk another penalty by not answering, but then the man's shoulders sagged and he let out a long sigh.

"You have to promise not to tell anyone." Iruka looked into his eyes with a pleading look.

Kakashi saw something in the depths of those brown eyes that made it clear the man was placing an immense amount of trust in him, and that thought sobered him immediately. "Right. Nothing you tell me goes out of this room, Iruka."

A small smile graced the man's lips and Kakashi couldn't help but smile back. The chunin rubbed at the back of his neck. "My first year in the Academy I was in the habit of spending most of my day dreaming about what a famous shinobi I'd be. I even went so far as to write out stories about how great I'd be. So, I totally missed the instructions on how best to identify and handle certain traps and weapons."

The younger man paused, a light blush growing across his cheeks as he relayed the tale.

"Later that day, we went on a field trip where our class was split into four teams, and we were sent out to identify as many traps as we could in a half an hour. Some were really easy to see, while others weren't. I managed to trigger one before I even realized it…one that the rest of the class had been consciously looking for because of how much the Academy Teacher stressed it during class. Before I knew what happened, I sprang the trap. Chakra-wire shot down so fast I couldn't get out of the way fast enough. It hit me hard and fast...cutting my face deep enough that even with healing it still left the scar."

Kakashi admitted this explanation surprised him. Over the years he had imagined all sorts of reasons for the chunin's scar...from his being attacked as a child, to his parents dropping him on his head as a baby. But nowhere in his genius brain did the thought ever enter his head that the village's absolute best Academy Teacher had gained his trademark scar because he'd failed to pay attention to his own Sensei! It seemed far too unlikely to even consider.

Still, the irony was not lost on him, and he couldn't help but chuckle a bit at it. This, of course, made the chunin more than a bit angry. "I'm glad you find it so damn funny, Kakashi. So how did you get the scar on your face, hmm?"

Kakashi growled at the man, all humor promptly wiped away. Those were memories he definitely wasn't going to delve into. Especially not now. "I'd rather not say."

Iruka's eyes narrowed, as though he were trying to figure out which unseen line in the sand had been crossed. But rather than forcing Kakashi to explain himself, the chunin simply shrugged it off and reached into the bag that was sitting at the foot of the bed. "Fine, don't answer...but you know what that means."

Kakashi glared at the man as he pulled out two items. The first was one of his face masks, while the second was a pair of scissors. The chunin took quite a few moments to look between the items in his hands and Kakashi before finally replacing the mask into the bag.

"All right Kakashi. It's time for your haircut!"

Iruka thought for certain that Kakashi would have taken the scissors from his hands and slit his throat with them based on the glare he received alone. Instead, the man ran his hands through the silvery strands and let loose a loud sigh.

"Fine."

With that single word, Kakashi pushed himself off the bed and walked over to the washroom. He paused at the door and looked back at him. "I'm not having you cut it off on my bed. I do have some standards you know."

Iruka shook himself out of his moment of shock and headed after the jonin – still not believing that he wasn't getting more of an argument. He stepped into the small washroom to find Kakashi already sitting on the edge of the tub with his shirt off and a towel draped around his shoulders. Before Iruka had a chance to touch a strand of the man's hair, however, Kakashi's voice cut through the awkward silence.

"Why choose the scissors over the mask, Iruka?"

Iruka smirked. "That's going to count as your next question, Kakashi."

The man shrugged. "I know."

Iruka sighed as he pulled a comb off the counter. He started running it through the unruly mass of silver hair in an attempt to tame it before setting the scissors to it. "It actually has to do with the 'fan-art' you showed me earlier. I figured if I had you wear the mask without addressing the hair, it would only fuel the comparisons people are already making between you and White Fang."

Iruka felt Kakashi's shoulders tense at mention of his father, and he felt a momentary twinge of guilt at disturbing the man. But the jonin's voice was steady when he spoke. "It was a sound assessment Iruka. Perhaps there's hope for me yet with you as my Advocate."

Iruka knew Kakashi could see his face blush at his praise, but at the moment he just didn't care. Kakashi Hatake actually had faith in him! And that in itself made him think maybe, just maybe, they could manage to pull off a miracle yet. He smiled and went to work on Kakashi's overgrown hair. The smile transformed into a slight look of frustration as it became evident that there really was no better way to style it than the Copy-ninja had managed through the years. The way his hair was textured, and the directions it grew from his scalp, made Iruka start to think perhaps he should have gone with the mask instead.

Still, after far too long in his opinion, he'd managed to cut nearly ten inches off the back of Kakashi's hair, and trimmed it around his ears and out of his eyes – all without shedding any of his or the jonin's blood. "All finished. It may not be perfect, but it's a lot better than it was."

Kakashi slowly stood and leaned against the basin – staring into the mirror to pointedly inspect Iruka's job. He tipped his head from side to side and ran his fingers through the much shorter strands. Iruka had to bite his lower lip to keep from asking if he liked it. He'd be damned if he'd use up one of his questions on something so corny.

Instead, he busied himself by cleaning up the mess he'd made. By the time he'd finished pushing the hair into a pile and putting away the comb and scissors, Kakashi had his shirt on and walked out of the washroom and back toward the bed. By the time Iruka joined him, Kakashi was leaning back against his pillows again with the shadow of a smile on his lips. And just like that, Iruka knew he'd chosen correctly.

Feeling his confidence boosted, Iruka decided it was time to get down to the crux of the matter – before the jonin decided he didn't want to play the game anymore. "One last question Kakashi, then we can call it a night. Once you became one of the Akatsuki...why didn't you attack Konoha?"

Iruka watched Kakashi's reaction carefully. After all, in all his years of service to the village, both at the Academy and the Mission Desk, Iruka had learned to read the silent signals of body language as much as listening to the words coming from people. What he was seeing right now, especially without Kakashi's mask to hide it, was that the jonin honestly might not know the answer to his question. Some others might have been put off by that thought...but in Iruka's opinion, that meant that there was something deep within Kakashi's psyche that kept him from guiding those villains to the gates of the village.

Eventually the Copy-ninja ran a hand across his forehead, as though he were trying to rub away a headache. When the man spoke, it was as though each word past his lips was being pulled from his very soul.

"It was supposed to be our next target, until Pein changed the plans."

Iruka furrowed his brow. "Pein?"

Kakashi moved his hand to the back of his neck. "Yeah. He's pretty much the one calling the shots. He's the one who ordered Itachi to turn me to their side."

Iruka could see talking about this was hard for Kakashi, but he needed just one more piece of information before he could stop. "So then, Pein was the one who ordered the attacks on the other villages?"

Kakashi closed his eyes and was silent for a moment. "Pein ordered the attacks, but I was the one who planned them in the end."

Iruka placed one hand gently on Kakashi's leg in what he hoped was a show of support. "That's enough for now Kakashi. I have what I need for tomorrow's tribunal. Just try and get some rest so you'll be ready for the proceedings, okay?"

The jonin cracked his eyes open and Iruka nearly gasped at how intense his gaze was. It was as though the man was looking right through him. "I think you're forgetting something, Sensei."

Iruka shook his head slightly, trying to break free of that gaze...and failing miserably. "What are you talking about, Kakashi?"

"I still have one more question coming. After all, you started the game...so I get to end it."

Iruka shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "Okay. I guess that's right. Go ahead."

"Have they carved Izumo and Iwashi's names on the Memorial Stone yet?"

The sadness in those words nearly knocked Iruka over. And in that moment, any remaining doubts he may have had about the Copy-ninja were washed away.

"Their names were added three days ago, after Genma's report to Ibiki was confirmed."

Iruka watched a flash of absolute pain cross Kakashi's eyes before he closed them once more. "I see. Thank you for telling me, Iruka."

"Kakashi...they died as heroes." He hoped his words would help the man, but instead he watched the jonin's muscles tense and his face twist into a mask of pain.

After sitting in an awkward silence for quite a few minutes, Iruka decided it was time to leave. He gathered his things together and quietly made his way to the door. He paused, thinking he should say something before he left to ease Kakashi's mind, but no words came. Sighing, he turned to open the door, but he stopped short when quiet words made their way to his ears.

"They shouldn't have died at all, Iruka. Not for me. I'm not worth it. I never have been."

Those words twisted around Iruka's heart until he found it difficult to breathe...and impossible to speak. He pulled open the door and stepped into the hall. He swore to himself, then and there, that he'd do whatever it took to make sure that Kakashi never thought that way about himself again.