Title: Aspenglow [Part II
Fandom/ Pairing: Naruto/ KakaIru
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slash, AU
Notes: Written for theKakaIru LiveJournal Christmas song challenge; "Aspenglow"

Head colds, mild but nevertheless affecting, were something of a tradition for Iruka come the holidays. Seven days prior to Christmas found the young man waking to aches in his body and a hot pounding behind his eyes, the presence of which induced a small groan in his very sore throat. Had he been any less than used to seasonal ailments, he might have rolled over and slept the day away, but Iruka had long since discovered that it was better for all involved if he simply blundered through them rather than waste a day convalescing. It was not as though his daily chores were physically strenuous, and he now had another who depended on him. Resolute under that knowledge, he dressed himself and faced the day, only to discover that he was not the only one suffering; the wolf, in an effort to raise itself from the ground, had reopened its wound and now lay sprawled as rusty blood soaked the bandages. Iruka froze on the staircase, as though mesmerized by the occasional flickers of firelight cast across the creature's prone form. Then, he sighed.

"You didn't yelp or anything," he murmured, kneeling next to his charge. "I wonder if you feel pain." A never-ending bandage supply in hand, he began to gently repair the damage wrought by the injured party. Neither his voice nor his soft administrations induced a reaction in the animal, which he took as a sign that it was slowly becoming used to both. However, Iruka next made a mistake in giving a small, but rather unexpected, sneeze.

The reaction was instantaneous. He barely had enough time to think a few choice expletives before the wolf, startled and deadly, lashed out, twisting its injured body about to slice Iruka's moving hand with its teeth. The young man heard a gasp of pain, however animalistic, escape the creature before he uttered one of his own, stumbling back before returning his gaze to the wolf.

"Don't do that! You'll tear it again!" The addressed paid very little mind to his caretaker's sound advice. Lips pulled back, it growled, body trembling as it paced a shaky perimeter in front of Iruka, who resisted the urge to shrink toward the wall. Its dark blood dripped upon the wooden floor in time with his own.

"Are you really so frightened of me?" quavered the young man, spreading his open fingers in a gesture of peace. If anything, this only infuriated the wolf further; it snarled, redoubling its growls. Iruka shook his head. "I don't understand…I've fed you, kept you warm, taken care of your injuries. Have I been wrong? Is it so unnatural…?" To Iruka's own surprise and despair, tears welled in his vision and voice. He swiped at them. "I-If that's…that's so, I guess y-you wouldn't be unjust-tified. It's n-not the first time I've…"

Biting his lip, he tried not to break down. His knees hit the wood floor quietly as his shoulders quivered under the weight of unshed tears. He did not notice the sudden absence of outraged rumblings until a lull in his sobs washed over him a minute later. Upon finally glancing upward, the young man gasped to see that the wolf was less than a foot from him, though its gaze was not trained on his face, but his hand. A miniscule stir of air made his wound sting as the beast sniffed it; then calmly, almost absently, it lapped the blood from his fingers.

As natural as daylight, Iruka thought. The wolf's fur was course but warm on his buried face.

He did not know why he'd done it. Certainly, there were a multitude of justifications from which Kakashi could pick, the most reasonable being his need to keep the human stable so that he would continue to provide him with food and medical care, but that still didn't ring true in the wolf's rushing mind. Not knowing his own motivations annoyed him. He was a predator, ruler of his territory and life; a lack of assuredness or self-awareness could only hinder him. He realized, deep down, that he carried more pride in him than most, but that too was necessary given his position. No human should have the ability to change that. Still, he had to give the young man—Iruka, he corrected himself grudgingly—credit for his unexpected resilience. Fear had not kept him from rectifying the damage from their previous encounter. Both wounds were doctored and bandaged, the blood cleaned from the area, and now he puttered about the kitchen, browning a pan of beef for Kakashi and humming as though nothing had ever happened. Fresh wood had even found its way into the fireplace. Maybe it wasn't resilience after all, reflected the wolf. Maybe it was simple stupidity. That seemed easier to believe, somehow.

Water ran, and the man appeared in the doorway with his meat. "Lunch," he said, and placed a dish in front of Kakashi. As the wolf began to eat, Iruka sneezed again, which would have made Kakashi roll his eyes were he in his true form. Humans had no survival instincts, he reflected. Wasn't there medicine for ailments like this? Still, it didn't concern him.

Eventually, the young man fell asleep on the couch, curled like a pup against its plush interior. Kakashi watched him for longer than he'd intended, sharp golden eye surveying him critically as he tried to ignore a sudden tug in his chest. The wolf attributed the sensation to restlessness. Turning his gaze toward a window, a shock of longing overtook him, setting fire to his veins. He had to move or at least breathe the chill winter air—his lifeblood—but he knew that there was only one way he could do so.

It was not a large thing to shed his wolf-skin; there was little mysticism in the process, though the change was instantaneous. Perhaps the only evidence of so-called magic came when he had completely stepped from his animal stance and into that of a young but hearty man. His furred skin seemed to melt from him in a wash of gray luster, replaced by dark pants and an overcoat which was military in style but torn and ripped in a testament to Kakashi's true, wild nature. Though he hissed to feel the wound on his chest stretch to accommodate the new flesh, he found it far easier to move given the structure of his human form. With a final glance over his shoulder at Iruka, he carefully slipped out the porch door, heavy combat boots belying the soft footfalls they produced.

For a while, it was satisfying enough to simply gaze upon the frigid white dunes which sloped up the mountain, providing a sharp contrast to bare, ink-black trees marking the forest's edge. Kakashi scented the ice-dusted air—though humanity dulled his perceptive abilities, he could detect the presence of other creatures well enough, and he recognized one now. "Genma," he said, his own deep voice strange with disuse. "Come out from under there; I can sense you even in this state."

"And what a sorry state it is," came a derisive reply. There was the smallest of movements, and a bobcat slipped into view, perching upon the snowy railing of Iruka's porch. "What the hell happened to you? The mice are saying you were beaten by some yappy mutt from the human city."

"Mice are liars. It was a dog, purebred, and I killed it." growled Kakashi.

The bobcat began to wash its paw. "What makes you think I believed them? And since when did you care?" It gazed at him piercingly. "I'm more concerned with what's come after said fight. Didn't know you took up dens with humans. Your own pack not good enough?"

"You know that even if I wanted one, there aren't many of my kind on this mountain." Resisting the urge to bare his teeth, knowing the effect would be lost in his current form, Kakashi simply glared. His feline companion was undeterred.

"So find some dumb bitch and get to making some. Us and humans…it's not natural. Wrecks the divine order of things or whatever."

For the briefest of moments, Kakashi saw Iruka's tearful face again. Before he truly registered it, he was reaching for the knife at his belt and snarling, "I do not recall asking for your opinion, cat. Out of my sight!" The blade whistled harmlessly into a snow drift, and Genma was gone, sprinting into the woods with an outraged hiss. Kakashi's breath came out in sharp, winded puffs, and after a moment of seething, he retrieved his throwing knife from the ground.

He heard the knob turn just in time. Slipping back into his wolf-skin, Kakashi pivoted to face Iruka, who was framed by the warm light behind the threshold and looking more than a bit confused. A short interval of silence passed between them before Iruka broke eye contact. "How did you…? I locked the door."

Damn, thought Kakashi. At least he hadn't been seen. The human shook his head as though trying to let his question go before glancing his way and asking, timorously, eyes wide and honest:

"Will you leave now?"

Would he indeed. It would be difficult, but not impossible, to live on his own at this point; he had survived worse, certainly. But the look the human gave him could have very well rendered him immobile. It would have been better if he had turned out to be one of those evil humans. I think I hate this, reflected the wolf. Does he not see that I am no dog to be tamed and coddled? Angry at the entire situation, Kakashi turned back towards the woods.

He heard Iruka shift behind him. "I see," he whispered. "Please take care. I don't think you're totally well yet…"

It was then that Kakashi noticed Genma's tracks in the snow for the second time. Remembering the condescending manner of the bobcat's speech—"So find some dumb bitch…"—his frustration found another outlet entirely. Iruka's eyes were wide as the wolf changed direction yet again, this time climbing haughtily up the steps to push into the warm cabin. He would stay a bit longer. After all, proving that insolent Genma wrong was worth a few more days with a human. Why, though, did said human have to act so pleased that he had chosen to return? I am not your dog, he thought again, vowing as he laid by the hearth: By the time this is over, I will own you.