Warnings for whole series: a little language, a smattering of violence, implied past character death, alcohol, and angst.
diary.
pt. 3
by vernajast
kakashi x iruka
After a few weeks, it became apparent that Kakashi had started some sort of tradition: mission, shower, Iruka. Sometimes he would forgo the shower, or he would use Iruka's, found in the nearly sterile condition he was starting to expect from the younger man. Despite Obito's protests to the contrary, he doubted Iruka cared that he made himself at home now that he was dead.
But I care!
Might I remind you that you're dead, too? You don't get an opinion, either.
Baka! I do so!
Each time he dropped in through the living room window, it was with the reverence of a man entering a sacred temple, and aside from the hollow sound of his feet retracing his tracks across the hardwood floor, Kakashi made an effort not to break the silence unnecessarily. His eyes slid over each object with the same reverence as he passed, taking in the various pieces of the Iruka-puzzle, and he remembered this entry or that, the corresponding event that led to an award or the gift of a certain tacky knick-knack which his eyes found on a high shelf.
He always ended up in the bedroom. He always ended up watching the next video.
The young man on the computer screen cast a pensive look at the camera, fidgeted with something off-screen, and then seemed to come to a decision.
"I...don't really feel like doing this, but I promised so...One of my kids lost her mother today. I don't know anything about the mission except that it was above my authorization, so I'll have to ask Izumo-kun about it later. Today is Kana's birthday. She had just been telling me about the party they were planning when..."
Kakashi shifted on the bed, feeling more and more like a voyeur. Iruka pulled his hair down from its high ponytail, seemingly forgetting that he was on camera.
"It's not that I didn't know how to comfort her. But I knew there really wasn't any comfort to be had. Nothing I said would bring her mother back, and I've never figured out how to make that ache go away. I think she handled it better than I did at that age. M-maybe she's more cut out to be a shinobi than I ever was."
A frown appeared on Iruka's lips just before he leaned forward and turned off the camera with a muttered, "I just can't."
As always, Kakashi did the same, jabbing the proper key to stop the video, as if afraid to play it again.
Nights like that, he sometimes stayed in the empty apartment. He would pull back the dusty coverlet on the chuunin's bed to lie on the clean sheet. He had turned the pillow case inside out, but it retained the homey scent of cedar and sandalwood that he imagined were Iruka, and he would leave his mask down and just breathe it in. It was nice to pretend to belong somewhere other than his tiny apartment.
Too bad you never appreciated him like this when he was alive, huh?
Then, he was...
Annoying? Stubborn? Brave enough to stand up to someone like you?
Kakashi imagined Obito's goofy, self-satisfied grin that contrasted so drastically with all-things Uchiha.
You're taking this too personally.
Aw, you're no fun anymore.
You've said so before.
The next time, it was raining. He made a quick detour past the mission room, and then slipped through Iruka's window with a soggy, sick sound that turned his stomach.
The pristine trail of footprints through dusty "snow" was obliterated by rainwater that ran in unbroken trails from his hair and clothes to soak the rug he had landed on. It disappointed him somehow, and as he gazed down at the irrevocable destruction, Kakashi was suddenly overtaken by a distinct sense of foreboding: something was about to happen, change. The temporary happiness he had found in Iruka's abandoned existence was just that-temporary. It wasn't going to last.
It never does.
For once, Obito sounded like Sasuke in his head. Kakashi might have taken a moment to laugh, both amused and disturbed, but there was no valid reason to dispute the point.
Resignedly, the Copy-nin carried himself further into the apartment without the usual rambling exploration of the teacher's belongings. He steamed up the bathroom with water hot enough to scald his pale skin bright pink and walked naked through the hallway to search the drawers of Iruka's dresser for something to wear. A plain gray t-shirt and black boxer shorts made him feel washed out and cold, colorless, drained, but he didn't bother to look for something more cheerful.
The next video was ready to play, so he pressed the correct buttons and reclined on the bed to listen to Iruka's voice, musing that the two people who talked to him most were both dead.
Except the voice he heard coming from the speaker wasn't Iruka's at all.
There was a rich laugh off-screen, a deep rumble Kakashi almost recognized. And then Iruka tried to shush the other so that he could make his entry.
"I can't do this if you're talking. Just a minute." The tan chuunin flashed a smile at the camera and chuckled lightly. "I've been working with Naruto every day after school for a week, but I don't think he wants to graduate. It doesn't help that he's always getting into trouble. I spent all day yesterday when I could have been grading papers waiting for him to dig hundreds of mushrooms out of the fountain at the center of the village. It seems he wanted to find out if they would float, but really, he overdid it again, as always..."
The other voice spoke up, "He'll come around eventually, Iruka. He's still finding his place," and Iruka nodded and smiled before turning back toward the camera.
"Mizu-kun is right, of course. It's not Naruto's fault that he's never had anyone to teach him the basics. When he started at the academy, he could barely touch his chakra, so I suppose I should be glad he's made it this far. When he takes his genin exam next week, I-"
A pillow flung from the same direction off-screen smacked Iruka in the side of the head and the person with the rich voice chuckled again. A very annoyed chuunin glared into the camera.
"Obviously, I'm not going to finish this right now, and with the genin exams coming up, I won't likely have time later, either. I guess the next entry will be about the results, so I hope everyone does their best!"
How the man could go so quickly from a frown to a smile, Kakashi couldn't say, and he had yet to catch him actually doing it. One minute, a frown; the next, a grin. It reminded him of Obito, but he was surprised his ever-present conscience didn't point that out himself.
I just figured you'd see it eventually.
Right.
I did, too. You're just dense!
Kakashi stretched out on his stomach and poked the keyboard to advance to the next file. It was a grim Iruka who greeted him, and for a few held breaths, the two seemed to lock gazes. Kakashi tried to read the emotions in those eyes-but then Iruka was speaking and there was no need.
"I never wanted it to happen this way."
The younger shinobi's voice remained quiet as he described Mizuki's betrayal, his expression lackluster, and Kakashi's hands fisted angrily in the sheet when he finally connected the name to a face, to a voice. He had just seen Iruka with Mizuki; he could back up to the previous video and witness it all over again. Iruka had trusted the man. There had been teasing and laughter and something carefree about the whole scene...and then...this.
He tried to k-kill Naruto, and my body just moved.
Miserably, the chuunin turned his back on the camera and lifted his shirt, showing off an assortment of gouged cuts from lodged kunai and shuriken and the knot of skin, scabbing, and black stitches along his spine where his body had acted as a shield.
In his mind, Kakashi could see it reenacted, over and over, the way it would have gone, the shadow clones Iruka was starting to describe numbering in the thousands.
His own body 'just moved' before he had time to process the action, and he hurled himself through the open living room window in Iruka's clothes, mask hanging loose around his neck to soak up the the rain that dripped from his chin as he ran.
Chakra flowed into pumping muscles.
There was a kunai in his hands.
And he came to a stop atop the hill overlooking Konoha's prison. That man was being held there, alive, while Iruka...
Whatcha doin', Kakashi?
Nothing.
It's a wet nothing.
Yeah.
Put your mask on before you hurt someone with that face.
One hand automatically obeyed. The other dropped the kunai.
This isn't like you, bastard.
I know.
Kakashi returned to Iruka's apartment with every intention of shutting down the computer, removing the evidence of his visit, and disappearing.
He found himself waking the next morning in the chuunin's bed still wearing the damp boxers and t-shirt.
TBC