Chapter Four
He always thought that people who were blind lived in a black world. But 'black' did not adequately describe the absolute nothingness that his eyes were met with constantly. It was that nothingness, that complete lack of light and color, which relentlessly assaulted him. Each waking moment was spent painfully aware of the world continuing around him, but he was at a complete standstill. All that was left to him was the warmth of his bodyguard's touch and the compassionate words of a man he could never begin to picture in his mind.
The memories of sight hurt far more than the consuming nothingness in which he now lived. His dreams were in vibrant shades, mocking him with what he had lost because of his own carelessness. Those colors melded with one another, swirling in fantastic displays that he knew he would never again see when awake.
And each morning he awoke only to find that the nothingness had returned. It was almost as though his dreams were the reality and his waking moments a horrible nightmare. What he wouldn't have given for that to be true! But he could not lie to himself. Time continued on, but his eyes did not heal. The scratches on his arm and chest closed up, leaving minute scars as a reminder of their short-lived existence. No, his eyes stubbornly refused to return to normal, to give him the one thing he most desperately wanted.
He needed his life back. He thirsted for colors; he hungered for shapes. He wanted his independence, but more than that, he wanted to be able to look at the world around him and know that he was not as alone as he felt.
With each passing day, that nothingness started to hurt less and less as he grew strangely accustomed to it. Instead, the pain was directed at his new lifestyle. No longer able to see, he ran into everything, tripped over even ground, but perhaps the worst offense was his stubborn refusal for help. Inu tried to guide him, but he only pulled away, hiding his hurt and growing self-hatred so deeply inside himself he could almost forget that it was there, slowly feeding itself.
XXX
Kakashi watched in silence as his charge slept. He knew the pain of loss and the suffocating depression that accompanied it, but what could he do – what could he say – to bring Iruka back? The brunet who was curled up on his bed was no longer the confident teacher he had fallen for. No, this man was quiet and withdrawn, seemingly emotionless when the jounin knew he was anything but. It was as though he was numb to everything, but Kakashi could imagine the kind of agony his charge felt. Iruka hid behind a façade that was so painfully obvious for the only man to ever go through a similar loss. Kakashi would do anything to help him, but he had no idea what he should do. Even at his worst, Kakashi did not experience the degree of pain Iruka silently concealed.
XXX
Iruka slapped away his bodyguard's guiding touch, not caring that he probably growled as he flew out of the chair on his own accord. He did not need anyone's help, much less from a man he did not know other than the beautiful penmanship that scrawled lazily across his skin every once in a while.
Stumbling as he tried to remember where exactly the furniture was, Iruka wished he could not sense his bodyguard. At least then he could have pretended that he was all alone. And, if he was alone, no one would have to see him like this.
Inu was trying, he really was, and if Iruka had not been so incensed by his offers of aid, the brunet probably would have appreciated the man's attention. But, as things were, every time Inu guided him around someone or some object, he just hated the man all the more. He hated him for his confidence, for the power that ebbed underneath his fingertips, but most of all, Iruka despised him for his eyes.
Inu could see and he could not. His bodyguard would never have to know what it was like to slam into everything and everyone because he had no idea they were there. He would never have to live with that kind of shameful helplessness.
Are you alright, Iruka-sensei? Those words were delicately written across the back of the teacher's arm with such gentleness that the brunet's body shivered involuntarily.
Iruka spun around, wrenching his arm out of his bodyguard's gentle grasp as he gasped in surprise. Just to add salt in his already burning wounds, he had not even known that his bodyguard was right next to him. Backpedaling, he felt his legs hit into the low table, tripping him. As he fell backwards, Iruka wished that – in all of these falls and tumbles – he would, just once, hit himself in the head hard enough to make some kind of permanent damage.
Maybe then he would no longer care so much about his lost vision.
He did not even get the decency to feel the solid wood collide with his body as he had been expecting. Strong, warm arms plucked him right out of the air and, for the briefest of moments, Iruka wished he could trust the wave of security that washed over him as Inu saved him from yet another bruise.
"Let me go!" Iruka wished he could hear his own voice, but he knew that it must have carried some volume by the way his bodyguard's entire body flinched as soon as he began screaming to be released. Squirming against his bodyguard's hard chest, Iruka did not stop fighting the tall man until he finally felt the floor beneath his feet and Inu stepping back, though despite Iruka's promises of bodily harm, the ANBU member still kept a steadying hand on his charge's forearm.
Every curse that Iruka let out sent a stab of agony through him as he found his world silent despite the words he knew he spoke. Forcefully, he tore his arm away from Inu and pushed the ANBU member away. So surprised at how easy it was to force the elite shinobi back, Iruka stumbled forwards from his own momentum. He did not care about his own display of clumsiness, however. At that moment, in a dark place in his heart, he hoped he had hurled his devoted guard into a wall or a pane of glass. If it meant that Inu was no longer touching him, guiding him as though he was incapable of doing anything on his own, Iruka was more than happy to give the man a few battle scars.
Iruka took a few unsteady steps, his stomach doing strange flips when Inu's gentle touch did not immediately return to his hand or arm to give some sarcastic comment. Even a bit of perversion would be welcome to this strange wordlessness that surrounded him. Did he really hurt his bodyguard in a fit of anger?
"Inu?" Iruka whispered quietly, or what he presumed to be softly. When after a few moments, his bodyguard still did not answer him, the brunet swallowed heavily. He had not seriously meant he would be happy to hurt his bodyguard, had he? The undeniably affirmative answer to that question made his stomach turn.
What was he becoming, that he would seriously wish another person harm?
Suddenly, there was a tight grip around his arm and, despite himself, Iruka let out a sigh of relief. That relief was quickly replaced with a sickening fear as short nails dug into his flesh with a strength that his bodyguard had never used on him before.
You can't just accept help, can you?
Those words chilled Iruka far more than he thought they would have. Once a gentle caress, Inu's fingers now revealed his own fury over Iruka's quick burst of anger. Despite knowing that this man had promised to protect him, Iruka could not help but shiver in true fear. This man was more than just a strong shinobi – he was an elite that was highly recommended by the Hokage. If anything, he was bound to be one of the most powerful warriors alive. And Iruka just angered him because he wanted someone else to feel just a fraction of the pain he was constantly wracked with.
"Not from you," Iruka spat back in disgust before he realized what he had said and, as soon as the words formed on his tongue, he felt self-hatred roll through him. Long before he felt Inu flinch away at his words, he knew that he had not meant it. Inu was a kind and considerate – Iruka was the one who was a horrible person for even thinking such a thing.
I see… was Inu's only response. Unlike previous displays of beautiful calligraphy, this was terse and angular, revealing nothing of the gentle bodyguard Iruka knew him to be. If anything, by the sheer blankness of such a comment, Iruka knew he had gone too far and hurt the one person who had not pitied him for the man he now was.
Iruka never got the chance to say the words of apology bubbling up in his throat as tears threatened to dampen the bandages around his useless eyes. Inu pulled away from him and disappeared. Even before the warmth of his bodyguard's presence dissipated, Iruka wrapped his arms around shivering shoulders. He had wanted to be left alone, but this was not what he had hoped for.
Within moments, he missed that faint hint of mint in the air. He wanted to feel the air warm from the ANBU member's body. His arm itched to reach out and feel Inu's fingers against his palm. But, more than anything, at that moment he hungered to feel that familiar flicker of chakra even more than sight itself.
At least with Inu around, he could for a moment forget about being the broken shinobi he was.
XXX
Kakashi cursed as he completely cloaked his chakra so that not even his perceptive charge could sense him. He moved as far away from the brunet as he could without escaping his apartment, knowing that Iruka would not be able to sense him for some time. Let the brunet think he had abandoned him! Serves the man right to worry for a little while! As soon as those thoughts surfaced, Kakashi shook them from his head. He would never want Iruka to feel a moment of pain or loneliness. The second the teacher expressed any desire to have him around, Kakashi would be there, lapping up his attention like the masochist he must be to fall in love with a man who despised him. Even if it meant another lashing that left him bare and bleeding, so be it. He would willingly do it to save Iruka from a moment of pain.
Glancing down at his hands, he could not help but wonder if Iruka had known that his one act of pure anger had resulted in injuring his bodyguard. If Iruka had noticed the blood streaking across Kakashi's hands and arms, would he have expressed any kind of remorse? Kakashi had not expected Iruka to be so angry with his quick reflexes in catching him before he fell. Perhaps that was why he put up no fight when Iruka pushed him away so forcefully he went careening into a glass table. Either that or he was so floored by the pain in Iruka's voice that he would have done anything to take some of that agony from him. He had thought Iruka was coping quite well, despite his sleepless nights and moments of clumsiness.
He was so very wrong. Iruka hated his handicaps; he despised how Kakashi was always around to help if he needed it. Those minute reminders of his losses must have been building up, finally boiling over in a fit of anger that suited the bipolar teacher quite well. Kakashi had actually been expecting an outburst for quite some time, just not one that harmed the Copy Ninja more emotionally than physically.
The fact that he was uncertain about how Iruka would take knowing he had injured his bodyguard made Kakashi all the more desperate to quickly bind up his bloodied palms and wrists before the scent reached the brunet's nose. He was amazed it had not hit Iruka the instant he had flew up from the floor and gripped the brunet's arm with bruising strength. For just an instant, he was angry – not with Iruka, never with him. He was disappointed in himself for not seeing that Iruka was not simply bottling up his emotions. He had been clutching them to his heart, letting them take over as he outwardly kept the calm façade that so many other people were willing to accept. Bottling them up, he would not have felt them, but the emotions that momentarily flared in Iruka were ones that were cultivated. They were as raw as the day they emerged in him. It hurt to know that he had been so very wrong about his charge.
For a moment, he paused in his hasty first aid to wipe at watery eyes. Physical pain he could easily deal with, but having Iruka express his hatred of him yet again broke him far more than any enemy shinobi had ever been able to. Iruka not only attacked him, but was obviously disgusted by him from that one phrase. Not from you. It was no wonder he bowed his head and took in a sharp breath of air as he pressed a shard of glass deeper into his palm, wishing that that momentary flash of pain could erase some of the emotional turmoil that threatened to tear him to pieces.
XXX
With little else to do other than sink farther into his depression, Iruka put his mind to adapting to his sightless world. Inu refused to speak to him other than a few terse words when asked a direct question. His bodyguard no longer led him around or aided him in his daily life. The new solitude that enveloped Iruka gave him the chance to focus entirely on his remaining senses without having to worry about making a fool of himself in front of the ANBU member. Inu was rarely even in the same room as him and, when he was, he was as far away as he could be.
The distance Iruka's moment of anger put between them hurt the brunet. Each time Inu was near him, writing coldly on his palm, Iruka felt another stab in his heart.
In less than a week, he had figured out the basic layout of his bodyguard's apartment. Surprisingly, it took longer to convince the uncharacteristically quiet man that they should buy food that was easy to make. Instant ramen was now a staple because not even the ANBU member could ruin boiled water.
To save himself from self-destruction, Iruka memorized the block and already began recognizing his neighbor's unique scents within two weeks. And, in a small place in his darkened heart, he had also become determined to return to his old life despite his handicaps. Bumping into things had become common enough that Iruka hardly noticed it, but he noted that his footing became more secure with each passing day. He became more adept at navigating around people by studying their chakra, but he could only do so for brief flickers of time. It was like a normal person opening their eyes for a mere moment to get an indication of who was around them. It helped, but it wasn't the same as being able to truly see where he was going.
Inu, when he became too tired to read chakra signatures, would begin coldly writing on the back of his arm. He would describe the people around them so Iruka did not bump into everyone, but it was nothing more than that. Just like Iruka had wordlessly asked – his bodyguard was not helping him more than absolutely necessary. Whatever else the elite shinobi was, he was careful in reminding Iruka of his condition in the past two weeks. He no longer helped, even when Iruka tripped and fell to the ground. But Iruka almost wished his bodyguard would encroach on his pride just a little and help him like he used to if it meant that that warm presence would return to his dark world.
By the third week, Iruka had also come to realize that Inu was quite aptly named. In his cleaning moods – which became more and more common as he became more sure of himself in Inu's now familiar apartment and had little else to do other than become more and more alone – Iruka had found quite a few squeaky dog toys that seemed to keep popping up around the apartment. In keeping with his new quiet nature, Inu never once mentioned them. Then there were the food and water dishes that Inu had stuffed underneath the kitchen sink.
The best Iruka could figure was that the ANBU had a dog at one point, but it had passed away. That would explain why he never smelled a dog, much less encountered one. In his mind, it also was one reason for Inu's silence on the matter. Finally, after tripping over a rubber toy and falling into a table – not only hitting his head, but probably cracking the table in the process – Iruka had had enough of the seemingly possessed objects. For a brief moment, his bottled emotions exploded in a fit of anger at his bodyguard for changing so rapidly. In that moment, he hated that Inu had followed his idiotic request in not helping him.
When confronted by Iruka – in other words, having the large squeaky toy chucked at his head with surprising accuracy for a blind man – the ANBU member only sighed in that aggravating way of his before getting off his comfortable position on the couch.
Without any warning, Iruka felt a surge of chakra that quickly spread around the room and seemed to reform into all new flickers of energy that, though similar to Inu's, felt different. Each flare was unique, some larger than others, others were brighter. For the first time in weeks, he felt a stab of something other than depressing emotions – curiosity. Iruka focused on the chakra pathways and was stunned into silence when he realized that each flicker he had felt was in fact a dog. Not any old kind of dog, however, but nin dogs if their powerful chakra flares were any indication.
"Ninken?" Iruka whispered as he found himself sitting down on the couch in amazement. Summoned animals were not necessarily rare among the most elite of shinobi, but Iruka had never met anyone able to summon so many at once.
They're used to leaving their stuff out, the slobs.
If it hadn't been for the fact he sure he would eventually break down and cry, Iruka would have laughed at his bodyguard's words. He had not realized just how much he had missed that beautiful calligraphy. Inu had not spoken to him in days other than a 'yes' or 'no' when asked a question. Drunk on the feeling of Inu's fingers on his skin, Iruka prayed that his bodyguard would continue speaking to him.
Don't listen to him, Iruka-sensei. The pups are the ones that don't pick up after themselves – the rest of us are cleaner than our so-called master.
Iruka nearly cried out when he felt something sharp press against his hand and begin to write, but the words erased his momentary shock and, instead, made him smile for the first time in a long time. Someone was finally speaking to him with something other than barely contained disgust. Feeling something furry brush against his arm as a weight settled in his lap, Iruka instinctively moved to begin scratching the small dog's ears. Wondering if he should be surprised a dog just wrote legibly on his hand, Iruka continued scratching and was rewarded with the feel of a short tail wiggling against his thigh.
For just a brief moment, he felt normal again.
He's a traitor. Inu commented, but Iruka felt no bite in the man's words. If anything, the ANBU seemed relieved. And, considering it was the first freely-given comment in three weeks, Iruka was happy enough to take it without question.
"What's your name?" Iruka asked the tiny dog in his lap. Immediately, his nose was assailed by a stench he recognized as dog breath. Despite his best efforts, his nose crinkled at the strong scent.
Pakkun, Iruka-sensei. The others are Bull, Shiba, Bisuke, Akino, Uhei, Guruko, and Urushi. We left the pups at home – we didn't want to scare you with the whole pack.
"It's very nice to meet all of you," Iruka replied as he stretched his hand out to the largest flare of energy approaching him. He could only assume that this enormous dog was Bull. Having never been around animals all that much, he squeaked when he felt a warm, wet pressure against his palm. It took him a few moments to realize that he had just been licked by a dog easily twice his size.
Kakashi watched all of this in stunned silence. His dogs didn't even take to him that quickly, but at the same time, Iruka wasn't commanding the dogs to do something for him. Instead, he was his usual polite self and, using Pakkun as his interpreter, introduced himself to each ninken. A small smile tugged at the jounin's lips as he watched the man he had fallen in love with. It was a relief that Iruka got along well with his dogs, but at the same time, Kakashi had to wonder why it was a relief. It wasn't as though Iruka would be a permanent part of their lives. Once his attacker was captured and he was safe, Iruka would be gone. If Kakashi wanted to pursue a relationship with the teacher after that, he wouldn't be able to hide behind his ANBU mask. He couldn't use an alias to keep his true identity from the man.
He would tell Iruka who he was because he loved him and, no matter how painful rejection would be, he couldn't live with the possibility that Iruka cared more for "Inu" – someone who didn't exist anywhere other than in Iruka's mind.
Not that he had a snowball's chance in hell of convincing Iruka to have a relationship with him. In the past three weeks of being quiet around the teacher, it was obvious that Iruka did not need him. The brunet was learning how to adapt to a sightless, soundless world just fine without him. Each day, his steps became more confident, his gentle touches of things more informative. All Kakashi was needed for was to protect Iruka with his life if it ever came to it. How nice – his years of patriotism boiled down into being a human shield for a man who hated him.
The past three weeks had been painful not only because of his self-inflicted silence, but because Iruka never asked him for help. Not once did the teacher express a need for him or even a desire for his company to rid them of some of the monotony of their days. It hurt to be so useless.
Watching as each of his dogs alternated between sniffing and licking Iruka before they formed a pile of fur around him, Kakashi wondered why he was so surprised that the dogs liked the teacher so much. Iruka was compassionate and understanding; everyone loved him, though the same could not be said in reverse. That kind teacher did not love everyone in return. Kakashi was one of the few people who Iruka certainly could care less for. But, then again, not everyone loved the impossibly stubborn brunet.
Looking at the white bandages that covered the teacher's useless eyes, Kakashi corrected himself. There was at least one person in the world that did not love Iruka.
XXX
That night, Iruka didn't fall asleep alone in Inu's bed. Curled up by his legs was Bull, who – despite everyone disagreeing with him and the seemingly physical impossibility of it all – somehow found enough room on the bed so that he didn't squash the poor teacher. Pakkun was stretched out by Iruka's middle and two of the younger puppies somehow found their way into the apartment and wormed their way into Iruka's heart in the blink of an eye. They were currently sprawled across the pillow.
Kakashi watched the softening of his once battle-hardened pack with silent regret. He couldn't be angry with his dogs. They had been starved for attention so long, it was no wonder they clung to Iruka like he was their long-lost mother. Kakashi tried to find time for them all, but he was constantly on missions and, if not on missions, was busy with something else. Be it standing as Sasuke's best man for the wedding, helping Sakura with her very, very obvious courting of Rock Lee, babysitting for Kurenai when his friend had to go on a mission, making all the travel arrangements for Sasuke and Naruto's honeymoon for Tsunade… the list went on and on.
He felt horrible for not spending enough time with his ninken, so he was happy they liked Iruka so much. If they wanted, the entire pack could take shifts to watch over Iruka along with him. Kakashi doubted he would take a moment's reprieve, but at least another set or two of eyes and ears would protect Iruka even more. And perhaps then Iruka would open up to someone, since he obviously was not going to do so with him.
Then there was Iruka's reaction to the ninken to take into account. For the first time in three weeks of watching him, Kakashi had caught a glimpse of a smile – a hint of a chuckle. Whatever magic his dogs wove, it was doing wonders for Iruka. For that reason, he would happily keep the pack by Iruka at all times, even if it meant he had to watch on the sidelines as the flea-bags did something that was impossible even for him. They could bring Iruka back when not even the man who loved him could boast such a feat.
A saddened smile tugged at Kakashi's lips as he watched Pakkun having a puppy dream. With his legs flailing wildly, the stern pug was making soft squeaks and growls that wouldn't even frighten a bunny, much less the assuredly fearsome prey he was dreaming about going after. In response to the weak kicks against his abdomen, Iruka began petting Pakkun in his sleep.
Almost as though he knew his brother was getting the teacher's attention, Bull squirmed up the bed, worming himself underneath Iruka's other arm and began shaking until the teacher scratched his belly. Oblivious, the two puppies continued sleeping on the pillow, one shifting just enough that he accidentally rolled until his head rested on Iruka's shoulder.
And these were the fearsome animals that Kakashi trusted with Iruka's life.
Of course, given a single strange scent, a nearly inaudible sound, or a movement that no human could sense, all of them would be awake and on guard. Now, knowing that they and their new favorite person were perfectly safe, they all slept without a care in the world.
Shifting on his uncomfortable seat on the floor, Kakashi pressed his back against the wall as he brought one knee up to his chest. Bowing his head, he focused his attention on the apartment and – though outwardly it looked like he was asleep – Kakashi was anything but. Despite being exhausted, he couldn't knowingly fall asleep while Iruka's attacker was still out there somewhere. Meditating, he remained as still as a statue as he kept a careful watch over the man he loved.
XXX
Iruka woke up quickly, but felt no moment of fear despite the crushing weight across his middle that hindered his breathing. All it took was a brief survey of the room and the chakra flares told him that he had four dogs sprawled around him – or, in the case of Bull, on him. Squirming, Iruka somehow found his way out from underneath the massive creature and, as he fell to the floor, Iruka was amazed that none of the dogs woke up.
Slowly getting up off the wooden floor, the teacher searched the room, finding the familiar flicker of his bodyguard's chakra in the corner. Already, it was second nature to search for Inu's energy. He was accustomed to the ease with which he focused on that flicker of chakra as much as Inu's unique scent and his handwriting. Even though Inu spoke infrequently, his body spoke volumes in how uncomfortable he was being around Iruka. In three weeks, he had become exceedingly sensitive to the small nuances of his bodyguard and was no longer surprised by his own perceptiveness. Iruka only wished that his blindness would not keep shocking him every time he woke up.
A few steps and Iruka was standing in front of the man. Judging from his location, Iruka figured the man was sitting on the floor. The fact that Inu had yet to stand up or otherwise reveal that he was conscious was what made Iruka kneel down in front of the man.
Inu was always awake before him.
That was what first told Iruka that something was wrong. What confirmed his growing fears was that, when he gently shook the ANBU member's shoulder, he got no response, not even the customary wince that came every time he touched the ANBU member. Iruka could feel the man's chakra, so death, as morbid as it sounded, was one thing he could cross off the list of reasons for his bodyguard not being up yet. Bringing up a hand near the elite shinobi's face, Iruka could feel the deep, rhythmic breaths of someone sleeping.
Sleeping? Could someone have slipped Inu something to make him sleep?
The thought made the teacher freeze in fear, momentarily preoccupied with something other than the darkness of depression. If his guard was poisoned, that meant that someone had gotten into Inu's apartment. Perhaps the sleeping draught had been meant for him and not his bodyguard. Iruka was about to think about that possibility more and try figuring out when his guard could have been poisoned, but having a soft, warm body press against his side stopped him. Pakkun's gentle touch immediately calmed Iruka's racing heart. If Inu's dogs were not worried, then he had no reason to be.
The idiot was exhausted. He hasn't slept through an entire night since he was assigned to you. I think the only reason he is sleeping now is that he knows we are here to protect you.
Iruka couldn't find words for the emotions he was feeling. A part of him was grateful that Inu had been so dedicated to protecting him. It was a very small part. The rest of him wanted to smack the man awake to yell at him for his stupidity, and then hit him just to get his point across. Perhaps then he would break down and cry, telling Inu how lucky he was to be whole and that he should never take his health for granted. Iruka wished he could have slapped that kind of sense into himself a month ago, along with a better sense of self-preservation.
As it was, Iruka could only bring a hand up to touch the sleeping man's face. Expecting the cool porcelain of his ANBU mask, Iruka quickly jerked back when he felt warm, soft skin against his fingertips. So surprised, Iruka must have let out a squeak because he could feel – and smell – the unmistakable puffs of air from Pakkun as the dog laughed.
Don't be surprised, Iruka. He only wears that mask of his when you two are in public or if someone stops by.
"I wonder what he looks like," Iruka said softly, not wanting to intrude on Inu's privacy and touch the man's face. Other than tall and muscular, Iruka knew little about the man who had pledged his life to him. Perhaps a better picture of his face could help make him understand Inu.
Touch away, he won't mind. Just don't touch the left side. He's a little sensitive about it – an old injury left him scarred. Pakkun may torture his master at the best of times, but he was still loyal to the jounin. He knew that Iruka was a smart man. It would not take the teacher long to piece together the facts – that he was being guarded by a tall, thin man with a scar over his left eye who could summon dogs. There was only one person in the village who could possibly match that description – and that wasn't taking into account Kakashi's uniquely colored hair or penchant for romance novels.
Iruka shook his head as his hand moved away from the man's face. Shifting, he put one arm underneath the shinobi's knees and the other behind his back. Easily, Iruka lifted the taller man into his arms and, trusting the small dog to move out of his way, walked back to the bed.
Surprised to find the bed vacant, but still warm from its occupants, Iruka gently laid the sleeping shinobi under the blankets. Pulling the covers up to the man's bare chin, Iruka momentarily concentrated on his bodyguard's chakra pathways. No, Inu wasn't injured or in any kind of danger – even his chakra screamed that he was exhausted. It was a wonder he hadn't passed out a long time ago.
He was about to walk away from the bed, but recalled how painful it could be if he forgot to take his hair down after having it up tightly for a while. Unsure about how his bodyguard wore his hair, Iruka wanted to make sure Inu wouldn't run into the same problem. And, despite his flash of anger three weeks ago, he never would want the quiet man in any kind of pain. Having a reason to touch his guard, the teacher gently trailed his fingers along the top of his head, chuckling quietly when he felt impossibly soft hair underneath his fingertips. Not only was the man's hair soft, but long. Having done so enough times on himself, Iruka quickly took Inu's hair out of its tight ponytail.
Unable to leave the man just yet, Iruka found his fingers trailing through the ANBU's silken hair. For Inu to sleep through all of this, the man must have been beyond tired. Most shinobi Iruka knew, no matter how tired they were, would have woken up by hearing the sound Iruka must have made as he fell out of bed. They would have certainly been roused by the teacher's gentle shake or by his picking them up and carrying them. And, as strange as it sounded, shinobi seemed to be particularly sensitive when it came to their hair – touch a single strand and they would be awake in the blink of an eye.
But Inu continued to sleep without a care in the world.
Finally forcing himself to stop touching the shinobi, Iruka slipped out of the room. Waiting for Pakkun to follow him, he closed the door behind them, and then began walking towards the kitchen. Once they reached the small room, Iruka stumbled around as he put on a pot of water for tea. Sitting down at the table, Iruka wasn't surprised when the dog hopped up in a seat next to him and began writing on his hand.
Why wouldn't you touch his face? Pakkun couldn't fathom it – it was obvious that Iruka was filled with curiosity, but he still refused to simply touch his bodyguard's face, which would have told him exactly what Kakashi looked like. Any other human would have killed for a similar chance.
"It isn't that I don't trust what you told me, Pakkun-san. It's just that, if Inu wants me to know what he looks like, he will tell me himself," Iruka stated softly. He wanted his bodyguard to trust him, to willingly talk to him without the uncomfortable atmosphere that they had built around themselves in the past few weeks. The great amount of respect Pakkun had for the teacher increased a hundredfold with those words. He had never met a human so honest and trustworthy – not even his own master.
Good. He told me I would like you. I thought he was just saying that to make me come and babysit. He tricked me once that way with his genin team. Bastard.
"He had a genin team?" Iruka questioned, not wanting to pry, but at the same time curious beyond belief. Inu was someone who could go either way when it came to a genin team – he could have been a great teacher or a horrible one. He would have been great because he had patience and understanding, but horrible because he obviously had difficulties relating to other people.
Because he understood, it didn't mean he knew how to express it. Iruka had experienced Inu's insecurity a few times. When he tripped and fell or blew up at Inu, the ANBU seemed agitated as though he had something important to say, but then would fall silent – or, in Inu's case, wordless. It was infuriating at times, but Iruka could understand how Inu had problems with putting his thoughts into words, especially when he was bent on giving Iruka the space he had accidentally demanded. It was the same for the exceedingly intelligent shinobi Iruka had the fortune to teach. Neji, Sasuke, Shikamaru – there were many people who did not know how to express themselves when it came down to it.
But there were some times where Inu got it right. There were those times over three weeks ago when he said just what Iruka needed to hear, or when he did the right thing, like introducing his pack to the teacher. That showed that he trusted Iruka with his precious animals. That small display of faith was enough to ward away the suffocating pain temporarily as Iruka wondered why Inu trusted him so. The fact that Inu was so worried about him that he refused to sleep most nights said that he was protective of Iruka. It cried that, despite the painful distance they had put between themselves, he still cared.
That thought made a strange butterfly flutter in Iruka's stomach. Though he had only known Inu a couple weeks, Iruka felt as though he knew the man better than he knew anyone else other than Naruto. He could judge Inu's emotions and actions in an instant, a simple sigh from the man was a fount of information – a single etched word on his hand told an entire story. It didn't matter that Iruka had no idea what Inu looked or sounded like. He knew who Inu was – an impulsive, intelligent, and fiercely loyal shinobi. Iruka knew the man that, he had the feeling, few people ever saw. He was also stubborn to the point of idiocy, though that was Iruka's greatest fault as well.
It was not until that moment that Iruka realized just how well he knew his bodyguard and that truth floored him. He had always kept people at a distance, only allowing Naruto to come near his guarded heart. He had been betrayed before, but in his pain, he found Inu to be the only balm to ease his suffering. It was no wonder the ANBU member meant more to him than a simple bodyguard.
Pakkun watched the changes in expression on Iruka's face in fascination. He didn't have to read minds to know that the teacher was thinking about his master and his feelings towards him. Maybe Kakashi was wrong in believing that he never had a chance with this academy teacher. The possibility made Pakkun happy for his master's sake. For a decade, he had been putting up with Kakashi's love-filled griping, so any hint that Iruka felt something other than hatred for the Copy Cat Ninja was cause for celebration.
Not to mention the past three weeks of absolute agony as he had to listen to Kakashi pour out his human emotions to him. The jounin was being an idiot for not talking to Iruka and explaining that the teacher's obvious dislike of him was painful, so that was why he had as little interaction with him as possible. Then there was the fact that Kakashi had yet to tell Iruka about his feelings for him. Stupid human.
Still stunned by the realization of his closeness to Inu, Iruka did not waste a thought on the depression he kept locked away in his heart. Instead, he felt a flicker of hope as he wondered if he could possibly live a normal life. One ANBU member had shown him trust – perhaps he should follow his example and start to believe in himself. "Pakkun-san, how long do you think Inu will be sleeping?" Iruka asked curiously as he brought a hand up to scratch his chin thoughtfully. Eyeing the teacher, the pug could only guess what the man was up to.
A good part of the day unless the end of the world comes – he sleeps like the dead when he's this tired.
"I was thinking that it might be nice to make him something other than ramen," Iruka commented quietly, his tone a mixture of longing and compassion. Perhaps it was about time he tried rebuilding his odd relationship with Inu. Even if it meant doing something he was terrified he would not be able to accomplish, he was willing to try it if it meant he could once again have a conversation with the only person who would not pity him.
The ninken did not have to wonder on Iruka's obvious conflicting emotions. He had lived through those first painful months with Kakashi. He knew how even the simplest and most inconsequential of things to others was cause for celebration for a boy with only one good eye. For Iruka to strive for something as common as cooking meant he was taking a step towards healing his heart just as much as his spirit.
Snorting, Pakkun shook his head in agreement only to realize a moment later that the teacher couldn't hear or see him. Damn, the brunet's perceptiveness was so uncanny; it was easy to forget that the man was blind and deaf. Then I would suggest you turn off the stove before we leave.
XXX
Kakashi was slow to wake up. Momentarily disoriented, he groggily opened his eyes and looked around. It was his bedroom, but there was something unusual about it. It took him quite a while to figure out that he was in his bed. He usually passed out on his couch most of the time, so it was rare for him to even be in his own bedroom. What made it stranger was that, for the past three weeks, Iruka had been sleeping in his bed and he on the unforgiving floor.
Iruka!
That thought made the jounin fly out of his bed as he frantically began searching his apartment for the teacher's chakra signature. Finding the flare of energy in the kitchen, Kakashi let out a soft sigh of relief. He hadn't done the unforgivable and lost his charge. No matter how painful it was to watch over Iruka, he would never want any kind of harm to come to the younger man.
With his heart still racing in his chest from his momentary scare, he made his way through the hallways and into the kitchen only to see something that he never expected to find. Immediately, his eye focused on the humming brunet who was stirring something in a pot the jounin had never seen before, on the stove Kakashi rarely used. Sitting on the counter next to the stove was Pakkun, who wore a broad grin as his tail happily swished across the countertop.
Iruka was by the stove. He was standing before a flame and a hot pot that he could bump into at any given moment. He could burn himself with ease – and Pakkun was just sitting there! For a moment, Kakashi forgot how to breathe. "Have you lost your mind?" Kakashi roared as he glared at his most trustworthy dog. Pakkun only spared him a glance before pressing his paw to Iruka's arm. In response, the teacher chuckled.
Kakashi froze at that sound, his jaw dropping very nearly to the floor. It was not that painful, forced chuckle of self-hatred or icy irony, but a sound of actual enjoyment. It was music to his ears, but at the same time, it stabbed at his heart. He had never been able to make Iruka laugh like that.
"Inu is going to yell at me if I fatten you up too much!" Iruka softly protested as he pulled the spoon out of whatever it was he was making and offered it to the dog to taste. Kakashi watched this in amazement, swallowing back the pain that his dog was more equipped to taking care of Iruka than he was. Whatever anger he felt towards his ninken evaporated when he saw the teacher's hesitant smile. It took him a few moments to realize that not only was Iruka smiling and talking to the dog, but he was cooking!
Perhaps he shouldn't be so mad at Pakkun for letting him fall asleep. Whatever those two had done while he slept, it had boosted Iruka's confidence enough that the teacher didn't seem to be taking his handicaps into account as he maneuvered around the kitchen with ease.
"That better not be for me – I'm not eating anything that has your slobber in it," Kakashi mumbled at his dog as he walked up behind the teacher. Gently, he touched Iruka's shoulder, hoping that he wouldn't surprise the brunet with his presence.
"You should still be sleeping," Iruka said softly, his calm tone revealing that he knew of his guard's presence long before he felt the ANBU's fingers on him. As he spoke, he turned away from the stove long enough to face Kakashi, revealing a pout that – despite its obvious attempt at sternness – was beyond adorable in the jounin's mind and caused his chest to tighten in something that wasn't entirely unpleasant. Maybe it was Iruka waving a wooden spoon at him that ruined his scolding.
I should be protecting you. He wrote slowly, wishing that he had not gotten so unaccustomed to talking to the teacher in the past few weeks. It felt positively awkward trying to write a sentence when for three weeks he had only used one or two words at a time. But how could he explain that it physically hurt him to be that close to Iruka – to know that the teacher hated every moment they were near each other? Yet, something had changed. No longer did Iruka exude discomfort as he stood near him. Instead, the teacher seemed to be more like the man Kakashi had seen the first few days after the attack.
"And you are, but exhausting yourself to the point of passing out is not going to help either of us. As you can see, Pakkun-san kept me perfectly safe all day," Iruka stated calmly as he set his spoon back in the pot, knowing better than to mention that he and the small dog had gone out grocery shopping during those hours of freedom. Using Pakkun as his eyes, their adventure was no more dangerous or difficult than it would have been had he gone with the dog's master. No, there was no reason to worry or upset Inu. For a brief period of time, he had not cared that his world was filled with a void of nothingness. Pakkun had led him by their noses, teaching him that there was a way to get around the lack of light. The freedom that little dog had given him was beyond anything Iruka could have hoped. "I will follow any order you give me, no matter how much I disagree with you, but in return, you have to listen to me when I say that you do not have to watch me 24/7."
It is my duty-
"And part of your duty is to be healthy enough to protect me when necessary," Iruka pointed out, interrupting Kakashi before the jounin had a chance to speak. Then again, what could the silver-haired man say? That he couldn't sleep easily, knowing that someone was out there who wanted Iruka dead? That he was having nightmares during his waking hours? That his nightmares were filled with him helplessly watching Iruka die a thousand and one different ways? That he blamed himself for the depressed state Iruka had been in for the past few weeks?
He couldn't reveal any of that to Iruka without explaining why the teacher's life meant so much to him. And, as much as he loved Iruka, he couldn't possibly tell the brunet his one greatest secret. It would hurt far too much to have the man reject him. Kakashi knew it was impossible for Iruka to ever come to care for him, but he still wanted to keep the tiny flare of hope alive. It was one of the few things that he still clung to as a reason for living.
"I'm sorry for the other week. I didn't mean to snap at you," Iruka finally whispered as he went back to his stirring, hoping that his bodyguard would accept his belated apology. He did not want to be alone anymore. Not when there was a man who could, amazingly, understand the kind of dark hell he was now living in.
There's nothing to apologize for, Iruka-sensei. Kakashi hoped that his fingers did not tremble too much as he wrote those words. A mixture of fear and giddy relief washed over him as he realized that, perhaps, he had Iruka had finally reached some kind of understanding. It might not be his fantasy of Iruka falling madly in love with him. It might not even be a begrudging friendship, since they hardly knew one another.
But it was a start.
XXX
Infinitely thankful that the concoction Iruka and Pakkun were making had been for the pack and not for human consumption, Kakashi had been given a cooking lesson as he helped Iruka make their own dinner. Of course, his aid may have resulted in more work for the teacher, but Iruka seemed pleased that he offered to help. And, if it meant Iruka would grace him with one of those hesitant smiles, Kakashi was willing to swallow the pain of being so close to the brunet.
Eyeing the pot of simmering rice, Kakashi raised an eyebrow. Who really listened to those instructions that said to keep it covered until it was done? As the impatient jounin was about to lift the lid and check on the grains, he found the back of his hand being smacked by a wooden spoon.
"You don't listen to directions very well, do you?" Iruka asked as he returned to stirring his chicken. Freezing, the jounin recalled how his father had once asked him that same question in an identical tone of voice. Kakashi could only stare at the teacher in shock as he recalled the last time he had ever cooked with someone else.
The White Fang was perhaps an even worse cook than his son, but there was one thing he could make – oyakodon. Rice, chicken, and eggs – they were the only three things his father could cook, so it was no wonder that he had perfected a meal that used all three.
Kakashi watched in stunned silence as Iruka continued making a meal that the jounin hadn't had since his father died. He could never forget how his father had used his kunai to cut the chicken into perfectly sized pieces. Iruka, on the other hand, had asked him to cut everything. Even if the brunet had not asked for help, Kakashi would have refused to let him do it himself. He would have had a heart attack if he saw the blind man trying to cut the ingredients.
"Are you alright, Inu? Was it something I said?" Iruka asked softly. Even blind and deaf, he could feel the immediate change in his bodyguard as soon as he had spoken. It was as though the very air he breathed was laced with the shinobi's pain. That agony, in turn, brought back waves of his own because Iruka understood the ache that shinobi were taught to ignore, but erupted at fragile moments.
You reminded me of my father. He said the same thing to me.
Iruka bit his lip, wishing for a moment that he wasn't so proficient at reading the emotion in Inu's handwriting. After three weeks of having to read his bodyguard's emotional state through one or two terse words, Iruka found his brief sentences to be fountains of information. Gently, the teacher touched his bodyguard's tense shoulder. "He passed away?" Iruka didn't even have to ask – he already knew the answer.
A long time ago.
"I'm sorry. I lost both my parents in the Kyuubi attack," Iruka admitted softly as he went back to stirring the chicken. His words had no emotion to them – he was just stating a fact that he had long ago come to terms with. Instead of recalling the pain of losing his parents, he focused all his attention on the chicken. Having to judge its doneness off of the smell of it, he concentrated on its aroma a moment. Unable to detect the unmistakable scent of burning food, he decided it could cook for a little while longer and went back to facing Inu. Right now, his bodyguard's emotional wellbeing was far more important than dinner.
My father… died… when I was eight.
Iruka gasped as his heart went out to the ANBU before him. At eleven, it was hard enough losing a parent. He could not imagine what it was like to live through that at such a young age. Squeezing the shinobi's shoulder softly, he smiled sadly. "You must be close to your mother, then."
I never knew her – she died when I was a baby.
Kakashi closed his eyes, wishing that he could remember her. He recalled his father showing him pictures of her, but there was not a single memory of her. He knew she was beautiful, that she was a talented musician, and that his father loved her with every ounce of his being – but he never knew her. It was one of the most unfair twists of fate.
Taking a shaky breath, the jounin wondered for the umpteenth time what he would have been like had his parents been a part of his life. Would he have followed in his mother's footsteps instead of his father's? Would he have ever become the revered shinobi he was today? Or would he have been an even greater shinobi if he had known a family's love? So caught up in his thoughts, he nearly jumped when he felt warm arms encircle his waist. As it was, he still jerked back as someone embraced him for the first time in over twenty years.
"I'm so sorry," Iruka whispered as he rested his head against his bodyguard's muscular chest. Listening to the man's strong heartbeat, Iruka wished for Inu's sake that his life had been different. No one should be orphaned at such a young age. At least Iruka had known both his parents – Inu hadn't had even that one saving grace. And, because of his loss, Iruka understood him all the more. Without a family to love and support him, was it any wonder that Inu was uncomfortable with emotions?
Tightening his arms around the ANBU, Iruka ignored the man's instinctive tensing. There were very few shinobi who were at ease with physical displays of emotion – even fewer who had no problem with being hugged by a stranger.
Stranger. As pitiful as it sounded, that was what Iruka was to Inu and visa versa. He had been living with Inu three whole weeks, but he had never once realized that the shinobi was an orphan whose only family was his pack of ninken and, perhaps, the genin team he had once taught. If he had his sight, would he have seen old pictures of people long gone – or the lack of them – that would have clued him in? If he had his hearing, would he have noticed how quiet the man's entire apartment was? Would he have known that silence revealed that the rooms had never been filled with a family's laughter?
The emotional pain of his blindness blindsided him, leaving him breathless, as he realized just how much he had failed to notice because of his handicap. All he ever figured out in the past few weeks, other than his character, was that Inu was a loner. He was a man with very few material possessions, judging from the lack of clutter. He was someone not accustomed to living in his own apartment, as shown by his abysmal kitchen and his even worse knowledge of it.
In that moment, Iruka had to know who the man in his arms was. Despite weeks of trying to train himself, to improve his 'sight' by picturing chakra pathways, it still drained him so quickly and only gave him a glimpse of the world around him. Whatever headaches he would get later, Iruka deemed them worth it. He needed to be able to picture the man who could be so considerate, but have never truly known a family's love.
Focusing all of his concentration on the man before him, an image began to appear in the teacher's head. Slowly, it began to clear from a fuzzy figure of pale blue chakra into a human shape. Hands with long, delicate digits formed at the base of lengthy, yet powerful arms. Perfectly rounded shoulders sat on top of a torso that would make Adonis cry in jealousy. He had a narrow waist, slim hips, and legs that seemed to go on for an eternity.
Bravely, Iruka let his fingers trace the form he was able to picture. Though clothing obstructed his touch, he could still feel the dips and curves of a beautifully formed body. The more he concentrated on the pulsating chakra beneath his fingertips, the more detailed the image in his mind became. He could see where chakra pooled around old and new scars, revealing a patchwork of injuries that proved the man before him was a seasoned warrior.
His fingertips radiated an ethereal blue from the numerous scars that his summoning jutsu must have resulted in. Across his torso was a bright shock of energy from a more recent injury. One thigh revealed a deep stab wound that must be quite old, while the other leg showed signs of being broken more than once.
Kakashi knew exactly what the teacher was doing. How could he not have realized it when Iruka's chakra was flaring, seeping around them in order to get a better picture of him? He had grown accustomed to Iruka's way of looking at people in the past few weeks, watching in silence as Iruka tried to train himself. But he had never felt the teacher put so much effort into his odd ability. Immediately, he had known that Iruka was trying to form the clearest picture possible. But just how clear could that image be when he was mapping out chakra pathways?
Though Iruka's fingers only touched him innocently as he tried to imagine what he looked like, the jounin felt his body catch fire. Never before had such brief moments of contact been so arousing. Perhaps what was more seductive was how Iruka seemed to be sculpting an image of him, detailing every inch of him.
For one insane moment, Kakashi had wondered how Iruka would react to a mental image of him. Would he be able to see that something wasn't quite right with Kakashi's left eye? Would he somehow detect that his eye was in fact a Sharingan? Or would he picture Kakashi being normal and whole? That uncertainty was what made it impossible for Kakashi to stand still as Iruka's attentions moved upwards.
Finally, Iruka worked up the courage to focus his concentration on his bodyguard's face. Almost as soon as a slightly crooked nose began to appear in his mind, Iruka found himself being thrust backwards both mentally and physically. Inu wrenched his head to the side so that Iruka could not focus on the left half of his face as he pushed the brunet away. At the same time, Iruka's image of his bodyguard was destroyed in a blinding wave of chakra coming from the ANBU member.
As soon as it registered in Iruka's mind that his bodyguard was no longer in his arms, the teacher blushed furiously. He got the feeling that Inu's response was more than just being sensitive about old scars. It didn't take him more than a moment to figure out what may have caused his bodyguard's quick reaction. Anonymity was the most important thing to the ANBU team. It was why they wore their masks, why they took on aliases, and Iruka was about to ruin it because of his curiosity.
The darkness returned so quickly, Iruka had to bite back a cry. It was such a sudden change from the near-normal sensation that he had to wrap his arms around himself to keep from falling apart. How could everything be so good one moment and so horrendously wrong the next? Then again, it wasn't the first time Iruka had plummeted from heaven to hell. "I'm sorry – I didn't mean to-" Iruka stopped speaking when he felt a warm touch against the back of his hand. It wasn't angry or mistrustful as Iruka would have assumed it to be. Instead, it was gentle and, for that reason, Iruka did not jerk away from the contact.
Please don't apologize for being curious. I expected you to try to picture me weeks ago.
"B-but no one is supposed to know an ANBU's identity… I should have respected that," Iruka said softly as he bowed his head. He desperately wanted to ask if Pakkun was right and that Inu never wore his mask when it was just the two of them. If so, why? It wasn't normal ANBU procedure, but then again, there was no chance that Iruka would catch a glimpse of him and be able to recognize him in the future. He didn't ask, though. Somehow he knew that it would be one question Inu would refuse to answer.
And you did. A soft puff of mint-scented air hit Iruka's face and the teacher knew that Inu was sighing. I will compromise with you. Don't try picturing my face using chakra.
"And what do I get?" Iruka asked quietly, wondering why using chakra would be the one thing the shinobi didn't want him doing. Was the scarring that bad? No, that couldn't be it. Inu wasn't the kind of person to be so vain as to care about a few scars. Given a new conundrum to distract himself with, Iruka poured all of his energy into the issue at hand instead of fueling his despair.
Kakashi took a deep breath as he wrapped his fingers around Iruka's hand and brought the teacher's fingertips up to the right side of his face. He owed it to Iruka to give the man a complete image after the past three weeks of painful silence. Touch was something he didn't have to worry about – no one alive knew what he looked like under his mask. As long as Iruka never felt the deep scar over his left eye, he would picture a whole, handsome face that he would never recognize. For reasons the jounin couldn't even explain to himself, he wanted to give Iruka at least that.
Iruka was about to protest, pointing out that, whether by chakra or by touch, it was the same thing. He would still be able to picture Inu's face. Any attempts at speaking, however, were forgotten when he felt warm, soft skin underneath his fingertips. A soft, warm puff of air hit the palm of his hand, making Iruka realize that Inu was pressing his hand against his cheek and jaw.
Hesitantly, he focused his attention on the ANBU's perfectly sculpted cheekbone and his narrow jaw line. Beneath his fingertips was the softest skin he had ever felt, having obviously never been roughened by facial hair. Iruka snorted softly, knowing he would have to make fun of the man at some later time for his baby face.
Thoughts of mocking Inu disappeared from his mind as he moved his fingertips upwards. Gingerly, he brushed over long, thick eyelashes that fluttered underneath his touch. He could feel the faint puffiness underneath that eye, revealing that Inu was still far from being well-rested. Biting back a stinging reprimand, Iruka instead continued touching the man's face. Inu had a thin, arched eyebrow that rose in curiosity as Iruka continued his survey.
Respecting his guard's privacy, Iruka moved his fingertips to the center of the man's forehead, but never to the left side of his face. Instead, he began trailing his fingers downward. He could feel the deep furrow between Inu's eyebrows, which revealed the man did quite a bit of frowning. He smiled sadly as he realized there were no marks on the ANBU member's face that revealed that he smiled or laughed often.
He could feel the unevenness of a nose broken multiple times. Knowing Inu's personality, Iruka had the feeling the man had set his own nose because he was too obstinate to go see a medic. Despite the lack of symmetry, Iruka found his guard's nose fitting. It revealed not only Inu's stubbornness, but also hinted at a mischievous side of the otherwise perfect man.
Having a mind of their own, Iruka's fingers came to rest on the ANBU's parted lips. Warm, moist air tingled against his fingertips as Iruka put together a picture of his bodyguard's face. What he came up with made him forget where his fingers were.
Inu was not simply handsome – he was beautiful. His face seemed ageless – Iruka couldn't tell if he was fifteen or fifty. All the teacher knew was that the man before him had seen hardships no one should have to deal with. He didn't smile easily, but he frowned often. The fact Inu refused to let him picture the left side of his face sent such mixed messages. Inu wasn't a self-conscious person, but he didn't want Iruka picturing his scars. Was he for some reason embarrassed because the other half of his face was so painfully perfect?
Iruka was about to ponder that further, but lost his train of thought when he felt Inu shift underneath his touch. Had he his hearing, he was certain he would have heard the ANBU swallow heavily. He could feel the barest movements underneath his fingertips. If he could have seen, he knew he would see the man's cheeks turn a vibrant shade of pink. He could feel the heat radiating off his face.
All he knew was that the man he was touching so intimately was trembling.
Satisfied? Even Inu's usually perfect handwriting revealed his tenseness as the ANBU stepped away from Iruka.
Backing up was the only thing Kakashi could do to keep himself from crushing Iruka against him, ravishing his mouth until he rendered the teacher senseless, and then taking Iruka to his bed. The jounin gasped hungrily for air, wishing that it was possible to will away his painful erection before Iruka somehow figured out what kind of outcome his innocent caresses had on his body.
No one had ever touched his face before. Not like that. Oh, his father had pinched his cheeks and the Fourth had constantly tried to push his lips up into a smile. But that was different. Theirs were affectionate touches; Kakashi had no idea what to call Iruka's. Whatever they were, the jounin had the feeling he would have been less aroused had Iruka demanded to similarly map out his throbbing member in perfect detail. Going from three weeks of hardly speaking to one another to this made his head spin.
"I'm sorry," Iruka apologized, though he wasn't entirely sure what he had done. Had his touches been inappropriate? Had he gone too far and made his bodyguard uncomfortable? Perhaps he shouldn't have touched the man's wetted lips.
Don't apologize, Iruka-sensei. I'm just not used to people touching my face. Inu replied without any hint of anger. The only thing that the man's statement contained was the truth of his words. Glad he had not offended his bodyguard, Iruka smiled slightly.
"Thank you. Now I have a face to accompany that annoying laugh of yours," Iruka replied softly. The only problem with that statement was that he couldn't picture that hard, yet achingly beautiful face ever cracking a smile, much less laughing as he knew Inu did from time to time prior to their fight the other week.
Kakashi studied Iruka's face curiously. There was something that was disturbing the teacher, but he wouldn't pry. He didn't want to find out that Iruka was trying to picture what he was trying to hide on the left side of his face. He did not want to know how close the teacher was to the truth.
"May I ask something?" Iruka spoke slowly, his tone holding an ounce of nervousness Kakashi had never heard coming from the teacher before. Quickly, he wrote a quick agreement on the brunet's hand, though his heart was plummeting into his stomach. As painful as the teacher's question might be, Kakashi didn't want to have to draw it out any longer than necessary. He had miraculously lasted three weeks without Iruka figuring out who he was. He was amazed he had lasted that long.
How would Iruka ask him? Would he wonder out loud what chakra would reveal that touch couldn't and make a conclusion? Or would he be direct and ask if "Inu" was in fact the same person as Hatake Kakashi?
"How old are you?"
Kakashi was momentarily stunned by Iruka's question. It was nothing like the query he had been expecting from the all-too perceptive teacher. Finally, he let out a soft chuckle. He should not be shocked – Iruka was full of surprises.
Thirty eight.
Iruka actually snorted at that, not believing that such a strong, energetic man could be so old. Thirty eight was not necessarily old, considering Iruka was nearly four years behind him, but it didn't seem to fit with the youthful picture of Inu he had conjured in his mind. If he had hazarded a guess, he would have said the man was in his twenties.
That thought made Iruka hesitate. Did he really think Inu was around the same age as Naruto? No, his bodyguard was far more mature than his little brother. But there was still that hint of mischief, of humor, that reminded him so much of Naruto.
Most people would take your laughing as offensive, Iruka-sensei.
"Let me guess, you're already going grey," Iruka responded with a chuckle, not expecting the ANBU member to actually answer him.
All silver, actually.
Kakashi's offhand comment was rewarded with a sputtering from the teacher. He could judge Iruka's emotions well enough to know the teacher had placed him as much younger. Some days, he felt every day of his near four decades, but other times he felt as though he could run circles around his old students. Such was the life of a shinobi.
"So Tsunade-sama assigned me an old pervert. I never did anything to deserve that," Iruka replied, though the hint of humor touched his scarred face. It took Kakashi a few moments to realize that the teacher was joking with him. No one ever made fun of him like that other than Naruto, who could care less if his old genin teacher would take offense. As it was, he didn't mind the blonde's teasing at all, nor did he feel hurt from Iruka's mockery. If anything, it made him laugh at himself.
If Iruka thought his silver hair was due to age, that the left side of his face was horribly scarred, and that Inu really existed, Kakashi was willing to lie. And it surprised him to realize he was not doing it for his own sake – to save himself from heartache. Those few smiles and brief displays of humor from Iruka were worth every falsehood he told the teacher.
XXX
Dinner that one night was destroyed; the chicken was burned beyond recognition. It didn't matter that Iruka and Pakkun's excursion outdoors only resulted in giving Inu a dinner of rice and eggs. It didn't matter that the ANBU member was scraping pans for hours afterwards, nor was it a problem that the entire apartment was filled with the scent of smoke.
Iruka didn't care about any of that because, for the first time since he was injured, he felt almost like himself again.
His bodyguard had opened up to him, revealing a painful, lonely childhood. He showed that he didn't have a perfect life where he laughed often, but then again what shinobi did? Whether or not he was aware of it, Inu had given Iruka a reason to wake up every morning.
If nothing else, Iruka was going to help his bodyguard. He was used to sorting out his students' and friends' problems, so what was so different about doing so for Inu? It would not only serve as a distraction, keeping that darkness at bay for a short while. A part of Iruka also desperately wanted to give Inu back a bit of the kindness and trust he had shown him.
First, Iruka decided he would have to get the older man to open up even more to him. Then, perhaps once he knew Inu better, he could figure out why the ANBU was so sensitive to his handicaps. Maybe once he figured that out he could start understanding why Inu feared that he would find out what the left side of his face hid.
XXX
Authoress: I checked their ages with Narupedia, so we're good to go this time (for those of you who have read other stories of mine where Iruka and Kakashi's age difference was far from the truth)!
B.Z.: ...Crap...I cant believe he hasn't figured out that it's Kakashi. It's so obvious... **pouts**
Authoress: I know, but Iruka can't hear or see him – and Kakashi is behaving pretty "un-Kakashi-ish"…but just wait! And thank you B.Z.-chan for beta-ing once again! And, I have to give kudos to the newest member of our beta-ing team! Everyone, meet DragonFlowers-chan! She does amazing work (and made me go back and do much-needed work on this chapter)! So this chapter goes out to her and her wonderful criticisms! Thank you so much for joining us, Dragon-chan! Until next time, ja ne!