Chapter One

Kakashi leaned back with a sigh, folding bare arms across his chest. Bending one leg, he rested the bottom of his booted foot against the wall he was being supported by. To anyone who walked by, he would have looked completely calm and in control of himself. They would see a professional ANBU bodyguard watching his charge sleep.

In truth, he was anything but.

His natural eye raked over the motionless teacher as the jounin took a deep breath. The only thing a passerby would be right about was that he was watching the unconscious brunet. He had to press his foot against the wall to keep it from jiggling nervously – a habit few people ever knew he had since he was normally able to control it. Gai only knew about it because he wasn't able to stop himself when he was drunk and being pressured into asking someone to dance, or some other stupid, nerve-wracking action. When Asuma was still alive, the three of them used to go out bar-hopping quite often, so his two friends were very familiar with his propensity for twitching his leg in stressful, drunken situations.

Not only was he tense, but he was anything but professional. A true ANBU bodyguard wouldn't be infinitely happy for their mask because it hid the emotions plaguing their face. The eyeholes of his mask were shadowed, hiding his Sharingan, as well as his dark eye and the spectrum of sentiments they contained.

Since Tsunade gave him his new assignment, he had all but lived at the hospital, unable to tear himself away from the unconscious teacher. He lost track of time a while back, but he could only guess that it had been a few days since his leader interrupted his shower and told him about Iruka's injuries. In all that time, he hadn't yet come up with a single answer to all the questions that arose in his mind.

Had there been someone to sympathize with him when he had first started losing sight in his left eye, would he have wanted their pity and understanding? Would he have lashed out at them, only getting angrier because there was someone else who had gone through something similar? Would he have appreciated the Hokage's thoughtfulness in assigning such a person to watch over him?

Those were questions that he hadn't even begun trying to answer because he had the feeling he wouldn't like what he came up with. Instead, he could only wonder how Iruka would react when he woke up. Would he have the same hatred for the world around him as Kakashi did for some time? Would he refuse to be in Kakashi's presence? Would he even listen if Kakashi worked up the courage to explain why Tsunade thought he would be the perfect bodyguard for the injured brunet?

Tightening his arms across his chest, Kakashi took another deep breath. Though he had told Tsunade he didn't have his ANBU uniform, he had pulled it out of its chest and tried it on as soon as she had left his apartment. Surprisingly, it had fit just as perfectly as it had all that time ago – as though the past fifteen years or so hadn't passed at all. It took some time to get used to the different vest, the cool chill of air across his bare upper arms, and the heavy weight of two swords across his back, but the hardest thing to grow accustomed to again would have to be the mask covering his entire face. Though used to most of his face being covered, it felt different to have every facial feature hidden from view. He had the feeling very few people would even recognize him unless they had been in ANBU with him all those years ago.

He was glad the Hokage didn't ask him about his reportedly missing uniform when he had shown up at the hospital, decked out as the ANBU bodyguard he was supposed to be. Kakashi tore his gaze away from the brunet and bowed his head. The hair at the nape of his neck pulled, protesting the strange feeling of being tightly held back. Unable to help himself, Kakashi brought a hand up to his head and ran his fingers over the strands that, for the first time in many, many years, were firmly pressed against his head and not standing up in a rebellion against gravity. That was perhaps the largest change his new mission brought about in him.

The last time his hair had been tamed into a ponytail was so many years ago, it brought a slight pain to his chest to just remember. It brought back memories of his father laughing with him, the powerful shinobi's hands gently running a brush through his hair and tying it back. Every day, his father would say that he looked just like his mother with his long hair, but anyone who saw Kakashi standing next to the White Fang would have said it was the other parent he greatly resembled. Down to the tail of silver sweeping across his back, he had been his father's son.

Tightly closing his eyes, Kakashi took a shaky breath. It had been the day he buried his beloved, but dishonored father that he had shorn his once lengthy hair into the style everyone now associated with him. It had been too painful to look into the mirror and see a younger version of his father staring back at him. That day was also when he started covering the lower half of his face.

Unknowingly, Tsunade had made him remember that time in his life when she asked him to change his features enough that no one outside of ANBU would be able to guess who he was. It wasn't just for Iruka's safety, but his own, that no one figured out that the Copy Ninja was the one protecting the teacher. If the person who had attacked Iruka knew of his bodyguard's identity, anyone Kakashi held dear could be in danger. Even if it hurt him to take on this persona, he would do so to protect his few friends and the three young adults that, in all their years together, had become his only family. At all costs, he would protect the trio from any harm.

He could understand Tsunade's own reasoning for such a request and, therefore, didn't argue with her, but instead pulled his hair back like the loyal shinobi he was. From the widening eyes of the woman as she watched him, his features apparently changed a great deal with that small difference in hairstyle. The tall, muscular ANBU member with a long ponytail of silver hair certainly didn't resemble the lanky and lazy jounin who looked like he just rolled out of bed, with dull grey hair sticking out every which way.

Kakashi had to wonder if he would even recognize himself if he saw his reflection in a mirror. Though only in his old uniform for a few days, he was feeling less and less like the confident shinobi he had been just a week ago. Now, plagued with memories of his father, of those months after Obito's death when he slowly went partially blind, and of his years as an assassin, Kakashi wasn't sure exactly who he was anymore.

XXX

Iruka groaned softly, slowly coming into consciousness. The moment he was awake enough to sense his surroundings, the teacher knew he wasn't in his own bed. The mattress beneath him was too soft for him, the smell around him wasn't the mixture of ramen and cleaners that permeated every inch of his apartment, but most of all, Iruka knew he wasn't home because he felt like he had been run over.

Recognizing the drowsiness that accompanied medications, Iruka tried to remember what happened. He tried to lift his head and immediately regretted the movement as a shot of pain hit him in the temple. Falling back down onto the pillow, he took several deep breaths to keep himself from crying out from the sudden migraine. Despite the agony his head was in, Iruka slowly realized that it was far from the worst of his problems.

His chest felt constricted and, as he lifted his hands from his sides to touch his breastbone, he could feel the gauze covering him. Trying to remember what happened, the brunet felt along his forearms, coming in contact with even more bandages. He took a deep breath, recognizing disinfectant and the unmistakable scent of a hospital. Knowing now where he was, he furrowed his eyebrows despite the jolt of searing pain that it resulted in. If he was in a hospital, where was all the noise that went along with the busy building?

Then it hit him. He could clearly picture the envelope that he had opened – the distinctive characters on its contents. There was an explosion, though he couldn't remember it. He had just barely registered that he held an exploding tag in his hands when he was thrown into darkness. Unable to help himself, the teacher cursed softly. At least he might now be able to guilt Tsunade into giving him a few weeks off. It was her fault he had nearly been blown to smithereens!

Taking another breath, he could feel that his chest was stopped from fully expanding by the bandages around it. Breathing shallowly, he tried to ignore the feeling of vertigo as he forced himself to sit up. Too late, he realized he was too weak and dizzy to hold himself up. Iruka cringed at the pain he expected to shoot through him as he fell forwards, but it never came. Instead, he could feel something wrapped around his middle. It was so gentle, it caused his bandaged chest no pain, but at the same time, it was strong and secure. Iruka was amazed to find himself being laid back, though now pillows held him up in a comfortable sitting position. It took him a few moments to realize that the soft pressure had been someone's arms and hands.

"T-thank you," Iruka said. His throat felt scratchy and raw, but the teacher didn't care about the pain his words of gratitude caused him. At that moment, all he was worried about was the fact that he hadn't heard the words come out of his own mouth, though he was entirely certain he said them.

Whoever had been kind enough to catch him and settle him back against the pillows, shifted before him. Iruka could feel the dip of the bed and – despite his racing mind as he tried to figure out why he didn't hear himself speak – he quickly realized his savior had sat down on the edge of the mattress. About to shift to face the person, Iruka froze when he felt that kind touch take his right hand and hold it flat so that his palm was facing up.

Momentarily puzzled, the teacher didn't think about his inability to hear, but instead focused on the light, tingling pressure against his palm. The person was slowly tracing lines out on his hand, and it took Iruka several seconds of concentrating to realize that the stranger was writing characters out on his hand.

I – ru – ka

The teacher nodded his head, having taken Naruto to the hospital enough times for head injuries to understand that the person was checking him for amnesia. Though he couldn't remember much about the explosion, he still was able to remember everything before it, which he knew was a miracle considering how close he was to the blast when it had gone off. He should be thankful to still be alive.

Explosion

This time, it wasn't hiragana, but kanji that Iruka had to focus all of his attention on to pick up. It was a simple enough word, but it took an amazing amount of concentration for him to recognize the strokes for what they were. The characters were intricate enough that it took Iruka a moment to understand what the person was writing on his hand and realize why he wasn't just being told so.

"Temporary hearing loss from the explosion, ne?" he asked, wincing slightly when he didn't hear his own words. For all he knew, they could be slurred or jumbled and entirely incomprehensible, but from the next set of touches on his palm, he knew he had spoken clearly.

Hai

Iruka nodded his head, no longer feeling as terrified by his newfound deafness. Living with Naruto for so many years, he had experienced everything from a ringing in his ears that took a week to go away all the way to a ruptured eardrum. The short-term deafness in his left ear was due to one of his adopted brother's more excited rant-filled explanations that ended in a loud, high-pitched squeal that had given Iruka two months' worth of deafness. Though his hearing was never perfect after that, it taught him that his eardrums could heal – and that was why he just nodded his head at the person's agreement, taking his handicap in stride.

Now knowing why he could hear nothing around him, Iruka focused more of his attention on the rest of his injuries. There were the bandages on his arms and chest – they must be covering lacerations and burns from the explosion. It wasn't enough for him to worry himself over. It took the brunet a few more moments of cataloging his aches and pains for him to realize something that, strangely, hadn't hit him until that moment.

The room around him was pitch-black. He almost snorted at his own idiocy, however, when his hands went up to his face and he felt the soft gauze covering a good majority of his face, including his eyes. Running his fingers along the bandages covering his eyes and the right side of his face, the teacher could only wonder how bad it was.

He could remember trying to turn his face away from the blast, but from the heavily bandaged side of his face, it obviously had still hit him before he could fully turn away. His eyes, on the other hand, were probably covered because they had been burned or otherwise injured by the aftereffects of the explosion. Focusing more of his attention on his eyes, he could feel a stinging pain that felt much like when he was looking around a smoke-filled room – another experience he was familiar with because Naruto had a tendency to set the stove on fire when making ramen.

Feeling a gentle tug on his hands, Iruka understood that the person next to him was trying to pull his hands away from his face. Twisting out of the person's grasp, he stubbornly continued to feel along his bandaged face. Being a curious person, Iruka couldn't help but begin to pull the bandages away from his eyes.

The person grabbed for his hands, hastily writing something on his palm, but Iruka stubbornly ignored it as he went back to pulling the gauze away.

Don't

As soon as Iruka got the last of the bandages off of his eyes, the teacher wished he had listened to the person. Excruciating pain hit him as soon as he opened his eyes and he cried out, covering his face with his hands as he clenched his eyes shut again. The burning pain that made it feel like the backs of his eyes were on fire wasn't the worst ache – it was the realization that, even with his eyes open, that pitch-blackness didn't go away.

He was blind. It was a phrase Iruka never would have thought would apply to him, but unable to lie to himself, he had to admit it. The blast had robbed far more from him than his hearing and peace of mind. Pressing his fingertips against his face, he could feel the oily texture of ointment, but he didn't care about the burns that most certainly were scattered across his skin. Burns healed, scars faded, but his eyes were one thing that might never be normal again.

Iruka tried to pull away when he felt gentle fingers wrap around his wrists, pulling his hands away from his face, but his body was too weak to put up much of a fight. One of the person's hands held his wrists down in his lap while the other moved up to Iruka's face to gingerly pull the gauze back down to cover his eyes and the right side of his face.

"I'm blind," Iruka mumbled numbly, sagging forwards as he took a shaky breath. Once the person next to him was done fixing the bandages, that hand moved down to Iruka's palm, writing out a flurry of characters that took every ounce of the teacher's concentration to understand.

Your blindness might be temporary. Tsunade-sama says it's too early to know for certain.

Nodding his head, Iruka didn't say anything in response. What could he say? Impermanent deafness could be overcome, but blindness, temporary or not, would most definitely result in losing his shinobi position. Unable to see, he couldn't teach classes, he couldn't work in the Missions Office – he could no longer be Tsunade's secretary.

Iruka bit his lower lip in an attempt to stop himself from sobbing as that realization came crashing down on him, but to no avail. The soft sound must have escaped his lips because he could feel the person next to him shift, leaning closer to him. If he had to guess, he would say the person was debating on whether or not to hug him, from the hesitation he could feel radiating off of him or her. That thought – that he knew nothing about this person – gave the teacher a momentary reprieve from his descent into depression.

Iruka could tell the person was strong, despite the gentle touch that he or she used when writing on his hand. His or her fingers were long and graceful, the nails clipped short so that all the teacher could feel as the digits danced across his palm was the smooth feel of skin against his own. Those fingers, however, told the teacher nothing about the person's gender.

I am sorry for your injuries, Iruka-sensei.

The chuunin frowned, still unable to decide on the person's sex. The person's writing was formal, but not definitive of either gender. Their characters were perhaps the neatest Iruka had ever had the pleasure to read – well, imagine reading. He would have remembered such magnificent handwriting. That knowledge meant that he had never met this person before, for which Iruka was happy for. He would have been terribly embarrassed if it was someone he knew well, but could recognize without hearing their voice or seeing their face.

Unable to help himself, Iruka pulled his hands out of the person's grasp and let his fingers begin touching those long, almost delicate digits, his touch traveling unhindered down to the person's covered palms. It took a moment of feeling the tight material for Iruka to realize the person was wearing fingerless gloves. As his fingers continued to drift, he corrected his assumption. He could feel the warm, smooth curve of something across the backs of those hands and, after a moment of wondering, he recognized them as armored plates.

Now knowing the person before him had to be a shinobi – or one unusual medical professional – Iruka was fascinated. The possibility that there was someone with decent handwriting that he hadn't met in his years at the Missions Office was one he would gladly mull over if it meant he could ignore the truth of his injuries for just a little bit longer.

Trailing his fingers up past the person's wrist, he came in contact with more armor. This time, it took him only a fraction of a second to recognize the guards on the person's forearms. He had to furrow his eyebrows as he continued to lean forwards, his hands curiously traveling along the person's bare upper arms. He could feel the smooth, satiny skin as well as the well-defined, tightly corded muscle underneath.

Mentally making a picture of the person next to him, he tried to imagine someone who wore such strange things as arm guards and plated gloves, but didn't have on the long-sleeved shirt that was part of the customary shinobi uniform. It only took another moment of innocent touching for Iruka to realize why the person before him had such unusual articles on. The moment his fingers touched the front of the person's vest, Iruka scuttled back on his bed and let out an unconscious hiss.

"You're ANBU!" he exclaimed accusingly. Though he couldn't hear his own words, Iruka knew they must have been cold. The person sitting next to him – someone Iruka now knew must be male from the flatness of his chest that the teacher had all but been molesting mere moments before – shifted on the bed. It took Iruka a moment to realize that there was no longer a weight to his side where the shinobi had been sitting.

Feeling a hand grip his wrist, Iruka struggled, but this time, the grip was powerful and unyielding.

I am ANBU. Tsunade-sama has assigned me to be your bodyguard until your attacker has been dealt with.

Those words made the teacher's blood run cold. Though they were just characters written across his palm, they seemed so emotionless. A gasp must have escaped from his lips because the next thing Iruka knew, the hand on his wrist was loosening and that weight returned to the side of the mattress.

Forgive me, Iruka-sensei. All of this must be difficult for you to accept, but your life is in danger.

This time, the ANBU member's delicately-written words were not cold, but gentle, almost understanding as Iruka realized that he was right. If Tsunade assigned ANBU to guard him, then he was in dire need of their protection. Recalling the blast that robbed him of two of his five senses, Iruka chuckled, though to anyone who could hear him, it came out as a sob. Perhaps the Hokage was right and he needed every extra bit of defense the man before him could provide.

The thought of someone following him around, however, was one that made Iruka's stomach churn bitterly. Someone to watch as he stumbled, trying to come to grips with losing his sight and hearing? No matter how much safer he would be with such a highly qualified, respected, and powerful person as his shadow, he couldn't stand the idea of having him around.

"I know I'm in danger, but I don't need a babysitter," Iruka replied, his voice holding every ounce of aversion he felt. His hatred wasn't directed towards the man next to him – truthfully, he deeply admired the ANBU forces for everything they did to keep their village safe – but towards the idea of Tsunade assigning him such a person to watch over him, like he was incapable of surviving on his own. "I'm not a child; I can take care of myself."

As soon as he said those words, Iruka knew he was behaving just like the adolescent he said he wasn't. Stubbornness was only one of his many famed qualities, but right next to it were his pride and desperate need for independence. Since he was twelve, he'd had no one to rely on but himself because he refused to accept help from others. He wouldn't listen to the Sandaime when he said Iruka could come live with his family, he wouldn't take the allowances the old man tried to give him – he refused any display of human kindness, even when the only other option was unnecessary suffering.

From the next words that were gently etched out on his hand, Iruka started to get the feeling he might have met his match in sheer dumb determination.

Too bad. Tsunade-sama told me to watch over you, so you're stuck with me.

If those words had been spoken and Iruka still had his hearing, he would swear that that phrase would have been said in a sing-song voice. Wishing he could glare at his unwanted bodyguard, Iruka settled for a growl as he folded his arms across his chest, hiding his palms so that the man would get the hint that he no longer wanted to talk to him.

After a few uncomfortable moments, Iruka felt the bed shift again. For the briefest of moments, Iruka admitted to himself that the presence of the ANBU member next to him had been somewhat reassuring, but he didn't say anything as he sensed the man moving away. Leaning back against the pillows, Iruka turned his head in the opposite direction he assumed his guard went in.

Unable to do anything else – his mind no longer being busied in unusual conversation with the ANBU member – Iruka found his concentration focusing on the quiet and darkness surrounding him. The loss of his two most important senses was akin to a death sentence to a shinobi. There was no such thing as a blind shinobi – it was an oxymoron. Deafness, on the other hand, was something that could be overcome. As Iruka lay there, glad for the bandages covering his eyes because they soaked up his tears before they became visible to functioning eyes, he found himself picking up on small things he would have never noticed otherwise.

He couldn't hear him, nor could he see him, but he knew that the man hadn't left the room. Just knowing that the powerful shinobi was there was a strange comfort. The sensation of eyes on him – of another person being in the room – was enough to make the teacher smile despite the fact he felt like he was going to drown in darkening emotion.

XXX

"This isn't fair to him, Tsunade-sama," Kakashi stated coldly as he glared at the Hokage through his mask, knowing full well she wouldn't be able to see his expression. If she could, she would most certainly ask him to explore his emotions or some other psychoanalyzing crap that he had dealt with in all these years as one of her favorite shinobi. Having a boss who was also one of the greatest medical minds to exist was perhaps the worst thing he could have asked for.

"Why do you say that?" Tsunade asked as she eyed him, giving him a knowing glance that told Kakashi she was mere moments away from starting to spout some psychology-filled speech about how his issues with relationships with others directly stemmed from his problems with his father. It seemed that she was the only person who didn't tiptoe around discussing something as sensitive as his father. Not even Naruto was that bold, but then again, the Hokage didn't seem to care about offending him, whereas the loudmouthed blonde knew what it was like to lose one's parents and did his best to not remind Kakashi about his own loss.

"He sees me as a babysitter. In assigning me to him, you gave him the impression that he can no longer take care of himself," Kakashi replied, knowing that if he wanted to escape the woman's presence in the near future, he had to fully explain himself. Seeing Tsunade's disbelieving glance, he sighed before continuing, "In a matter of a few minutes, he discovered that he is temporarily deaf, possibly permanently blind, and has been saddled with an unwanted ANBU guard, whose job it is to follow him everywhere he goes."

"Iruka knows better than that. He was nearly killed!" Tsunade retorted indignantly, but then took a moment to put herself in the proud teacher's place. Would she be thankful for having someone being assigned to watch over her, when all she would want to do would be to crawl into a hole and hide away from the world? And hide would be what she would want to do.

She wouldn't want anyone to see her in such a state. She would most certainly not want someone to watch her round the clock. She would have done the same as Iruka and taken the bodyguard as insult on her capabilities as a person. But how long would it take her to realize that she truly had lost some of her independence with those two important senses? Would she ever fully accept such a thing when she was once a powerful and respected shinobi?

How long would it be before she was comfortable enough to be around people who had all five of their senses? She had the feeling that there would be a long period of time where she would loathe such people who didn't need others' aid to live out their day-to-day life.

Iruka's deafness wasn't what was making it difficult for her to see him living alone – he had done it once before with no problems. His blindness, however, was something that worried her. How could he teach classes, how could he cook and clean… how could he do most of the things anyone with sight would take for granted?

Glancing over at Kakashi, she furrowed her eyebrows. Before her stood a jounin renowned for his abilities, and that was the only thing most people saw when they looked at him, but he was also a person that she had gotten to know and deeply respect over the years. She had seen what he was capable of, and most of it was far more difficult than domestic chores like cooking and cleaning. If Kakashi could become the jounin with over a thousand jutsu even after he lost vision in one eye, why couldn't Iruka learn to live with his handicap as well?

Studying the masked man before her, Tsunade felt a flare of hope for the first time in days. Maybe Iruka's situation wasn't as bad as she originally thought, if he could get past the idea of having a bodyguard and actually let Kakashi help him. Though he was secretive, aloof, and otherwise guarded around others, Kakashi was perhaps one of the kindest people she knew. If he could help Iruka in any way, the jounin would do everything in his power to do just that.

Yes, there might just be reason to hope.

XXX

Kakashi found himself in a position that was becoming all too common. His foot was one again pressed to the same wall he was sagging against to keep his leg from bouncing nervously, his arms were folded across his chest and his eyes were on his charge. This time, however, Iruka was moving in his slumber. With each shift of the younger man's body and every soft sound that came out of him, Kakashi felt another twinge of self-loathing hit him. He most certainly could have been a little more delicate with Iruka's situation, but he had panicked when the teacher had woken up.

Iruka had seemed somewhat disoriented at first, but as soon as Kakashi started to write in his hand, the teacher had calmed down a bit – until he had tried to take off the bandages around his eyes. Recalling the first morning he woke up, opening his left eye and meeting that painful nothingness, he understood the shock Iruka had been jolted with. He momentarily wondered which of their situations was worse – a sudden blindness or a slow, irreversible, unstoppable degeneration. Kakashi would have begged for Iruka's instantaneous blindness, had he had a choice.

He should have told Iruka why Tsunade assigned him specifically to the teacher, but he had frozen when Iruka's fingers had started touching him. It was meant to be impersonal, Kakashi knew, but at the same time, it was the most intimate touch he had ever felt. In those few moments, his entire body was alive with sensations. Unable to do anything else as he fought between the two opposing urges of pulling away and fleeing or leaning into that unintentionally seductive touch, he had only sat there in a mixture of desire and horror as the teacher's hands moved up his arms and to his chest.

He had seen the shock and disgust that had crossed the teacher's bandaged face as Iruka had spit out those words. You're ANBU! It seemed that, no matter what or who he was, the teacher would hate him. And Iruka didn't even know it was him! He didn't see the unfamiliar image everyone else was met with; he didn't hear the voice altered slightly by his mask. He didn't know him at all, but he instinctively showed hatred towards Kakashi.

It had been those emotions – the teacher's immediate reaction to him – that had made Kakashi lash back. He had enjoyed forcibly telling the teacher that Iruka was stuck with him, but the soft whimper Iruka had let out in response melted away those dark feelings. He had instantly been wracked with guilt for acting as he had. Iruka asked for none of this and was understandably unhappy about being assigned a bodyguard. It was not an aversion towards Kakashi, but towards the ANBU member that was to protect him with his life.

Iruka hated the person that would always be watching him, seeing him stumble on uneven ground, bump into things, and show a clumsy side that no one would have thought to associate with the brunet. It wouldn't have mattered what ANBU member was guarding him – it would have resulted in the same dislike.

Though that realization made him feel slightly better, Kakashi still felt a strange tightness in his chest as he watched the teacher shift again in his sleep. The brunet then let out a soft sniffle that made the silver-haired man cringe. It hurt that Iruka had refused his help so quickly, but a part of the jounin couldn't help but be glad he had. If Iruka had fallen against him, sobbing as he was unconsciously doing now, would he have had the strength to keep up his unfeeling disguise? Would he have comforted the man? Would he have told Iruka of his own handicap, though he had never admitted it to anyone before?

Then again, how could he not have done all that when all he wanted to do now was go and dry the brunet's tears? He ached to hold him and reassure him, but how could he? He had lived these past ten years without anyone knowing his other deeply hidden secret, but to get close to the teacher would most certainly increase his chances for exposure.

Watching Iruka sleep, he could only wonder how he could protect the teacher, but necessarily distance himself at the same time. He longed to do everything he could to help Iruka cope with his injuries. He wanted to be more to the man than just a bodyguard. He wanted to be a friend, a confidant – someone that Iruka could rely on and trust. He wanted to be to Iruka what he had desperately needed for himself all those years ago, but never received. There had been no one to understand him, to be an anchor to save him from those dark emotions, and it was mainly because he had been so alone then that he was the emotionally-handicapped person he was now.

He refused to let Iruka go down that same path. He would be all those things for the brunet, no matter how dangerous it was for him. But how could he get close to Iruka and still hide the one thing not even Tsunade had ever figured out?

How could he pretend to not love him?

XXX

B.Z.: ... Awwwwwwe! So sweet! Oh I just want to glomp someone! **sniffles** Great story, and I can't wait to read more of it! **buries head in pile of Kleenex**

Authoress: Kuku…another chapter betaed by the wonderful B.Z.-chan! Thank you! As for the story *cries* I hate to admit it, but I think that there will be a very good chance it gets quite dark in the next few chapters. But don't lose hope! And don't forget to review! We authors type a load faster when we get some kind of feedback! So, until next time, ja ne!