A/N: For Spoon no Miko, I got the concept of the Hoko from the Wikipedia entry on the Bijiu. It seemed easier to use a demon that already had five tails then to risk making a mistake with the mythology.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

This chapter was betaed by the invaluable AisCrim.

'Cause I'm a train wreck
Waiting to happen
Waiting for someone to come pick me up off the tracks
A wild fire born of frustration.'

- 'Train Wreck' by Sarah McLachlan

Kakashi shouldered open the door, blinking in the light of the rising sun, and entered the house, juggling a basket of pancakes (burnt, of course; he had no illusions about his culinary skills) and his book in his hands. Sand flowed up from around his feet, wrapping around the handle of the basket. He let go, watching in bemusement and not a little fear as the sand carried the basket into the kitchen.

"Thanks," he said to the empty air, following the basket into the kitchen and putting the book away. Gaara waved a hand in response, looking frighteningly intent as he glared at the spoonful of soggy Cheerios before his nose.

"I'm guessing you're not a fan of cereal?" Gaara snorted, then said,

"Is it supposed to be so… limp?" Kakashi snickered at Gaara's childish indignation, then shut up as the green eyes glanced at him. He took another step inside, blinked, and came to a stop. Naruto was perched on a chair, back firmly wedged into a corner. 'So he can watch the door,' he realized, shoulders slumping at the reminder that life would never be normal again. Naruto noticed him and grinned, a poor shadow of his old self.

"Hey, Kakashi-sensei! What's in the basket?" Kakashi shrugged. "It's Orochimaru's favorite teddy bear, of course. You can't be so lazy that you won't find out yourself." Naruto growled low in his throat but got up, limping over to the basket and opening it.

"Pancakes! Yes!" Gaara got up as soon as Naruto yelled, coming to stand beside him and peering down at what made Naruto so happy. Kakashi fought down the urge to howl with laughter at the way Naruto and Gaara looked, both staring bemusedly into the basket, identical expressions of confusion plastered across their faces. He cleared his throat.

"I, uh, made pancakes for you guys." Naruto looked up from his awed contemplation of the pancakes, expression changing, lips thinning, eyes darkening to a cold, weary blue the color of the sea in a storm. "Kakashi-sensei, can I talk to you for a second?"

"Sure." He held open the door as Naruto limped past him into the living room, settling onto the couch that spilled stuffing everywhere without a wince. Naruto looked down at his hands for a few silent moments, than squared his shoulders.

"I- I really, um, appreciate everything you've done, like making pancakes and sticking around when you don't have to and helping me and all, but-" he faltered, swallowing. Kakashi waited a minute, then prompted,

"Yeah?"

Naruto flinched, but plunged on,

"Anyway. I guess what I'm trying to say is," his voice cracked, and Kakashi watched him wring his hands until they were red as blood, "can you please, please treat me the way you did before?" Thin shoulders quivered as Naruto choked out the last word, lips trembling,

"Please?"

Kakashi crossed the room immediately at Naruto's rasped plea, the solitary word brimming with sorrow and cracked pain and the crushed hope of a boy denied everything since birth. He knelt before his student and took his hands, carefully separating them, wanting, more then he had wanted anything before, to say 'yes.'

The cold hands trembled in his grip as Kakashi looked down, closing his eyes at this reminder that Naruto was afraid of him, would always be afraid. He squeezed them gently, wanting to hold them for a while and give some of his warmth to this fragile man.

"I'm sorry," he said with terrible honesty, "But I can't." There was a pause. The hands stilled. Naruto took a deep, shuddering breath, then wrenched his hands away and shot up from the couch, his voice hoarse and shattering as he howled,

"Then lie to me, damnit! Just-" his hands rose to clench helplessly in his hair, then sank down, curling around his torso like a wounded child, chakra sparking and crawling over the walls, leaving wallpaper peeling from the beams and pictures falling from the melted nails, never mind that he technically shouldn't have had any, because his rage was that great-

For the first time in his life, Kakashi was afraid of his own student. He rose from his crouch and moved cautiously to stand behind him, afraid to touch, afraid that the bloody chakra would burn his fingers to the bone.

"I just wanted to be normal," Naruto said, pacing back and forth, fevered eyes staring at something only he could see, fingers clenching spasmodically. "That was all I ever wanted, but what I want, what I need, doesn't matter, 'cause it's never mattered! Why couldn't Sasuke have gotten the Kyuubi, it would've given him the power he always wanted so bad!" He spun and stared into Kakashi's eyes, breathed a single, tormented 'why?' and then fell into him in a heap of surprisingly light young man, thin arms winding around his waist like a lifeline. But he never cried.

Just like him to refuse tears. Kakashi held him up, took a few faltering steps to the crumbling couch, and collapsed onto it, shifting Naruto so his head wasn't digging into Kakashi's shoulder. He looked up and caught Gaara's eye, the pale gaze fixed on Naruto, on the contact between them – something he had never had, brow wrinkled.

Kakashi lowered his eyes. 'But somewhere,' he thought, looking at the way Naruto's head rested on his thigh, shoulders twitching and jumping as if electricity was running through them, 'like a homeless child, his heart is crying in the cold.' For a moment he wondered if that was the fate of all vessels, to be so…

To be the walking wounded. To have dragged themselves through life mired in sorrow and pain and neglect, to have been beaten down so many times that they no longer knew what it was to stand up.

He gestured for Gaara to take a seat in the armchair next to him before turning his attention back to Naruto's trembling form. "Naruto?" The blond stilled for a moment, swallowed audibly, and then shook even harder, as if he had a fever. "God, I hate that fox," Kakashi whispered. Naruto's tremors abated at those words and sat up, pushing his hair back as he met Kakashi's gaze with too-serious eyes.

"Don't…" he sighed more than said, "Don't say that."

"Why shouldn't I? Naruto, he's been raping you for seven years, for God's sake!"

Naruto dropped his head, digging fingers into his hair, then sat up, exchanging a significant glance with Gaara, and said,

"Kakashi-sensei, there's no point in hating Kyuubi. He doesn't get what 'right' or 'wrong' are. They're completely meaningless concepts to him." He sketched an arbitrary shape in the air, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "Explaining what's right or wrong to him is like… uh… it's like trying to explain what ramen is to an earthworm. They've never experienced it, so they don't know what it is. He doesn't do things for any real reason. He just does them because they make him feel good. That's why he attacked Konoha, you know."

Kakashi stared at him, his stomach writhing inside him like an angry snake. 'That's… it? That was all? He killed thousands because it made him feel good?' Outrage boiled up inside him, escaping his control as his teeth ground together slowly.

"How… how can you just sit there like that?" he forced out. Naruto stared at him with eyes like an old man's, silent. Kakashi turned to Gaara for support, but only saw Naruto's sad, wise eyes reflected in pale green.

"Hatake-san," Gaara said in his soft, sad voice, "Demons don't understand. The Shukaku protected me because it made Mother feel good to do so and pain to its host felt bad. The Kyuubi torments Naruto because it makes him feel good. They are like exceptionally dangerous, frightening children. Would you hate…" he paused on that word, but plunged on regardless, "a child for eating too much food and throwing up on you?"

Kakashi closed his eyes, hands curling into fists. 'Why are they always so fucking accepting of all this? Why don't they ever fight back?'

"I'm going to have some pancakes!" Naruto broke the uncomfortable silence, his mask back in place instantly, and bounced off the couch, wincing as his open wounds caught on the fabric of his shirt. "Hey, Gaara, what kind of syrup do you put on your pancakes?" Gaara followed him.

"I've never had pancakes."

"AGH! No ramen, no pancakes, next you're going to tell me you've never played checkers." There was silence, and then Naruto said in a resigned tone,

"Okay, then. We'll just have to play checkers today."

Kakashi blinked, Gaara's words sinking in. 'Did he just refer to the sand as his mother?' He let his head drop into his armored hands, exhaling.

'I don't know what to do, Arashi-sensei. Your son is suffering so badly with Gaara right there with him, and I can't do anything to save them.'

He had never felt so helpless.

'Okay,' Neji thought, looking at the shinobi scattered randomly around his living room. Sasuke was fiddling with his vest, looking bored; Shikamaru and Chouji were sprawled on the floor, staring up at the ceiling; Ino and Sakura were discussing the latest medical jutsus in low tones; Kiba, Shino, and Hinata were all occupied with keeping Akamaru from breaking the window to get inside, and Lee and Tenten were both emptying his refrigerator.

"Okay, Neji, so you've got us all here," Sasuke drawled, turning his snake mask over in his hands, "So what do you want?"

"Hey, where is Naruto? This meeting is missing his bright flames of youth!" Lee said, looking around. Neji pinched his nose, counted to ten, and turned around. "Naruto won't be here. This meeting is about him."

Lee threw himself onto the couch and set his feet up on Neji's nice new coffee table, propping his chin on his fists.

"Okay," Shikamaru said, looking up, "You dragged me away from getting a new shougi set, so spill." Neji took a breath, hoped that they would accept the new fact, and said simply,

"Naruto has the Kyuubi sealed inside him."

There was silence. Sakura and Sasuke didn't flinch, so Neji assumed that they already knew. Chouji stopped chewing, a few crumbs falling onto his jacket. Shikamaru shrugged and lay back down, but Ino's eyes narrowed. 'Oh no.'

"Are you telling me," she breathed, "that that hyperactive trickster has the greatest demon of the ages inside him? That he killed my grandfather and uncle?" Her fingers curled into fists, blue eyes fairly glowing with rage. "No, Ino," Neji answered, letting his head fall into his hand in exasperation, "He just has the Kyuubi sealed inside him, he isn't actually the Kyuubi itself."

"So that's why…" Hinata finally said, gazing at her folded hands. Kiba placed a hand on her shoulder. "What, Hinata?"

"Why everyone hates him so much, why they glare at him and trip him whenever he walks by." Kiba looked down, closing his eyes in guilt.

"Anyway, Naruto needs our help," Neji interjected. "No." Ino stood as she spoke, her face flushed as she gritted out, "I am not going to help that demon in any way, shape or form. He should have been killed at birth!" Sakura shot up, hand pulling back, but Sasuke caught her and pushed her back down. "Do what you want," Ino said, "But I'm leaving." The door clicked behind her.

"Okay," Neji said, "Any other objections?"

"What do you mean by Naruto needing our help?" Shino spoke up. Neji swallowed and glanced down at his carpet. It needed to be cleaned, there were way too many coffee stains and watermarks-

"Neji, our youthful friend needs our help! Tell us," Lee implored, great eyes shining with manly tears. Neji twisted the ring on his finger- no going back now, for any of them- looked up at their expectant faces, and said in a defeated voice,

"Two days ago, Kakashi appeared in the Hokage Tower while Sasuke and I were on guard duty. He requested that the Hokage come with him to tend to Naruto. Sasuke and I followed, although Naruto made us leave the house itself. I was able to use the Byakugan to see what was going on inside the house while the Hokage was healing him. Naruto was burned badly and appeared scarred and in much pain. I found out what was causing it as well." He trailed off, feeling hot tears burn against his eyelids that Naruto, beautiful, bright Naruto, the leader of a legendary generation, should suffer like that, that he must tell the friends who would follow Naruto into hell of it. 'Don't make me say this-' his thoughts splintered like shattered glass, 'Don't make me make this real.'

"Well?" Sasuke broke his reverie with his sharp voice. Neji opened his eyes, looked up at his friends' worried faces, and said in a voice that rang hollow,

"For seven years, Naruto has been repeatedly raped by the Kyuubi. I stole some of the files on him from the archives." There was a heartbeat of pained silence fluttering in the gloom before a torrent of noise broke loose.

Hinata made a heartbreakingly soft sound and buried her face in her hands, delicate shoulders straining to contain the gasping sobs that racked her.

Kiba made a low growling noise, the rumble resounding louder and louder with each passing second, brown eyes bright with fury, claws cutting into his own palms and dripping blood onto the carpet.

A black cloud of bugs appeared from nowhere, swarming around Shino's arms, humming a piercing note that went on and on and on like it would continue until the ending of the world, the bugs whirling in response to their host's wrath.

The shadows in the corner of the room writhed like maddened beasts, reaching out to coil around Shikamaru's deadly still body, the jounin's face pale as marble and kunai whirling around his fingers, produced from nowhere.

Chouji's mouth gaped wide, a chip dangling in midair, forgotten on its way to his mouth. He closed his mouth with a loud clack, fingers crushing the chip.

Tenten murmured "I think I'm going to be sick," and bolted for the bathroom, the door slamming shut behind her with a loud bang.

Lee's brows drew together into a frown, but he said nothing, only a few tears escaping his eyes and trickling down his face, his eyes blank and staring into nothingness, his fists quivering.

Finally, afraid of what he would see, Neji turned to the two who knew Naruto best.

Sakura slumped against the couch and began to weep, rocking back and forth, mumbling incoherent apologies; her hands dug into the couch as she gasped for air, her cup of coffee falling from her hands and shattering on the floor. Her face was as pale as snow, eyes wide and hopeless, her lip shredding between her teeth as she rocked faster and faster, her voice rising higher and higher until it cracked into needle-sharp splinters.

Sasuke's eyes gleamed blood-red, whirling with the force of a hurricane, his hand flexing on the hilt of his sword for a moment, lips peeling back into a hysterical smile of grief. The ANBU mask in his other hand cracked under the pressure of his anger, but he said nothing, bloody eyes mad with fury. And somehow, his silence was the most frightening of all.

Neji let his head fall into his hands once more, ignoring Hinata's soft sobbing, Sakura's breaking voice, Kiba's growls. 'I'm so sorry, Naruto,' he thought as Kiba and Shino pulled Sakura to her feet and held her still, forcing her to calm down. 'So sorry that you must suffer.'

He raised his head, staring at the pale but determined faces of his comrades. 'But this I can promise you, Naruto,' he swore, biting his lip until it bled, 'You will not suffer for much longer. We will stop the Kyuubi and save you from the darkness, just as you have saved all of us.'

'But somewhere, like a homeless child, his heart is crying in the cold.' – This is an allusion to the poem 'A Winter Night' by Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Sarah Teasdale.