Chapter Five

Memory is a funny thing. It needs constant reminders in order to keep the past alive. No one believes they could forget their mother's voice or their father's laugh, but when one only knew them for a short while and lived so long without them, it is no wonder that the memories become fuzzy.

Scents, feelings, sounds – all types of recollections worked in the same way. Over time, the imagination takes over, imposing what it wants instead of what really once was. But what happens when a sense is entirely cut off? No longer given cues and reminders, how can a memory survive when it is starved for attention? How long before a mother's face is forgotten? How soon until the memory of your own face grows hazy?

Worst of all, how long until even colors become a trick of the imagination? Weeks, months, years? What does it matter when ultimately the term 'red' no longer has a meaning? Do a few months make a difference when you can no longer recall how the sky looked or how blue your brother's eyes were?

For Iruka, it was just over a month before he could no longer confidently picture the orange of Naruto's jacket in his mind.

XXX

By unspoken agreement, they fell into a routine. Mornings were spent with Iruka adjusting to the dark, quiet world around him. Usually, it consisted of Iruka becoming lost in thought while his bodyguard did anything he could to give the brunet some privacy. Afternoons were filled with slow walks around the village, down vacant streets and through empty forests. It wasn't that Iruka still had problems walking among crowds, but that he hated being reminded of his handicaps so much.

As much as he cared for his old students, whenever they bumped into one of them, they expressed their pity. Iruka quickly hardened himself against the anger he immediately felt. He was still alive and able to function, so he despised their unspoken, but implied, opinion that he would never be able to return to his old life.

He never blew up at them, but that didn't stop him from wishing he could yell at them for being so sorry for him. He could not show the pain he felt, not if he wanted to keep a tight grip on himself and the calm façade everyone expected from him. No, only around Inu was he willing to show even a fraction of the emotion that tore through him at any given moment. His bodyguard was the only one who did not try to tell him not to worry and that things would work out. He was the only person Iruka could trust with who he was becoming.

It was for that reason, that change in who he was, that Iruka demanded their evenings be spent training. He needed something to take his mind off of everything. He had to have one little reminder of the confident shinobi he had once been.

At first, Kakashi was hesitant to agree with his mulish charge. A blind, deaf Iruka mixed with weapons was far from relaxing for the jumpy, overprotective shinobi. Iruka agreed to not practice with blades for the time being, but that did not ease Kakashi's mind. Instead of metal, he had to worry about Iruka being injured by fists and feet and, from time to time, the ground or a tree the teacher collided with.

Within a week of practicing taijutsu with the teacher, even the jounin was impressed with how quick Iruka's reflexes were and how his instincts were so well honed. He knew it was in part because of Iruka's uncanny ability to view chakra. The teacher told him once that he had gotten so used to the jounin's energy that he could sense it without even trying. For that reason, he always knew where Kakashi's attacks were coming from and was able to try to dodge or counter-attack accordingly. Though he could understand where his bodyguard's attacks were coming from, it did not always mean that Iruka was able to defend himself well enough to save his own life in a real situation. His new, developing fighting style was impractical not only for that reason but also because Iruka tired out far too quickly. Studying the ANBU member's chakra for more than a few minutes gave the brunet a spitting headache.

After a particularly grueling sparring session, Iruka flopped down on the ground, leaning back against a tree trunk. A few seconds later, he felt Inu do the same mere feet away. The ANBU didn't say anything – he didn't have to. His concern washed off of him in waves. Iruka could only roll his eyes out of habit. Despite having his eyes covered by a strip of black material, somehow Inu had known what he had done and sighed in response, filling the air with the scent of mint.

His bodyguard leaned towards him and began gently writing in Iruka's outstretched palm. You winced a few times during our sparring. Are you injured?

Iruka desperately tried to hide the shiver as he felt Inu's fingers trail across his palm, his characters sending the brunet's head spinning. Inu's words were never inappropriate, but their method of communication was becoming more and more distracting for Iruka as he developed an increasingly sensitive sense of touch. Every gentle curve Inu drew on his hand made the brunet's stomach do strange flips. Each intricate character took every ounce of Iruka's self-control to comprehend instead of falling into a heap of quivering lust.

No matter how he looked at it, Iruka could not deny that he had been less aroused by lovers bent on making him scream in pleasure.

He did not think that Inu was being purposely seductive in his writing, but Iruka could not stop his heart from racing whenever there was a chance Inu would want to talk to him. He could not hide the rise in temperature, nor could he ignore how his entire body screamed for him to move Inu's hands to places other than his palms.

The thought of those strong, yet delicate fingers tracing along other, far less innocent, areas of his body made Iruka whimper under his breath. He could not imagine what it would be like for Inu to touch his chest or back. And, dare he even think it, lower down? Would he even be able to survive a single encounter of that nature when he was falling to pieces by a few kanji on his palm? Shifting, Iruka prayed that his growing arousal was not as visibly obvious as it felt. He might let his mind wander in flights of fancy, but he would not destroy his new, comfortable relationship with Inu for a few moments of pleasure, no matter how mind-altering they promised to be.

The brunet shook his heads in an attempt to dislodge his downright naughty thoughts from his mind before recalling what exactly it was Inu had asked him in concern, obviously not trying to seduce him with his masterful touch.

Swallowing heavily, Iruka wished that he could hear just to know if his own voice felt as weak and needy as his entire body felt. "No, just getting a headache," he replied truthfully as he winced again. He didn't want to tell his bodyguard about the annoying ringing in his ears. The high-pitched noise was threatening to drive him insane, but it was the first thing he had heard since the explosion. A part of him was excited at the proof his hearing was finally returning after over a month of silence. He knew Inu, on the other hand, would demand he go see Tsunade to make sure there was nothing wrong.

As much as he loved his Hokage, he had refused to visit her since being released from the hospital. Just for a while longer, he wanted to spend all of his energy and concentration on training so that he could fight the darkness away. He didn't want her to check his eyes and tell him the one thing he feared most. That his eyes were not healing – that he would be permanently blind. He did not want to consider what his future was going to be.

Ignorance was bliss, or at the very least, more comforting than the truth.

Kakashi watched his charge in concern. He couldn't do anything to help with Iruka's headache other than offer medicine, which he knew the stubborn teacher would refuse. His worry, however, was not entirely over Iruka's pain, but also what had made that shadow cross over the teacher's face for a brief moment. Whatever Iruka was thinking about, it was not something he wanted to share with anyone.

XXX

Iruka pressed his forehead against the cool windowpane, wishing his headache would go away. The ringing that had started several days ago had yet to leave him and it was that sound more than anything else that was causing him pain. He was no longer used to hearing anything, much less a loud, high pitched noise that continued on relentlessly.

Able to do little else to keep his mind off of the incessant ringing, he tried to picture his little brother, but he could not seem to get his garish outfit right. The shade did not seem to match. Naruto did not wear red, but it was not the bright, sunny yellow that was his only other alternative. Shaking his head, he focused more on his brother's face, but that too did not sit right with him. Something was off, but Iruka could not understand what it was. But how could he forget what Naruto looked like? The blonde had been so much a part of his life, yet Iruka could not recall just how blue his eyes were.

Then, suddenly, there was something other than the ringing. Grateful for something to distract him from the sickening realization he could not remember his brother's face, Iruka focused all of his attention on that sound. It was faint and almost completely covered up by that damn ring, but it was still there. Furrowing his eyebrows, Iruka tried to place the soft, bell-like twinkling.

It was fast, changing pitch and intensity so rapidly, it was hard for the teacher to keep up with it. At the same time, however, it had a strange, soothing rhythm to it. Concentrating even harder, Iruka discovered the noise seemed to be coming from where his bodyguard was currently sitting.

Inu always spent time at that oddly-shaped table in the morning while Iruka tried losing himself in his thoughts. Having always assumed he was writing letters, reading, or something else, Iruka was amazed when he realized the noise seemed to match up with the tiniest movements of the ANBU member's long fingers.

Slowly moving to stand up, Iruka turned towards his bodyguard and began walking over to him, following the haunting sounds.

"What are you doing?" Iruka asked softly, not wanting to interrupt Inu, but dying with curiosity as he reached out to touch the ANBU's quickly moving fingers. Unable to help himself, Iruka was immediately able to pick out the light scarring across his bodyguard's knuckles. Abruptly, the beautiful sounds ended as Inu jerked his hands back in surprise.

Iruka steeled himself against shivering as Inu began writing on his bare forearm. I'm sorry, was I bothering you? The teacher didn't answer immediately; his fingers were tracing the area where his bodyguard's digits had just been. Finding the surface to be unfamiliar, Iruka furrowed his eyebrows. This was not the slightly oily surface of the well-polished table. It was just as smooth, but it was colder than the wood. It also had deep, yet thin grooves at specific intervals. Curiosity getting the better of him, Iruka added a little more pressure but jerked back when the odd rectangle moved downwards. Iruka was about to apologize, certain he had somehow broken the table, when his ears were met with a loud noise.

It took only a moment to realize that the table was not a table at all, but a stand-up piano. It was much longer before it clicked in Iruka's head that Inu – a battle-hardened ANBU member – had been the one playing it.

"You play the piano?" Iruka asked so quietly, he wondered if his bodyguard had even heard him. It didn't match Iruka's image of Inu; he could not picture the powerful man playing that beautiful song he had heard through the ringing, saving him from the agony of admitting his visual memories were degrading rapidly.

Hai. I play most mornings.

Kakashi watched Iruka, seeing the obvious surprise in the brunet's features. A part of him wished he had lied. No one knew he was musically-inclined. At least, no one alive knew that he had taught himself to play the piano so that he could know his mother through the sheets of notes and scribbled comments written by a feminine hand. The Fourth had known of his talent only because Kakashi had had an anxiety attack when he had broken a few of his fingers during one of his earliest missions. It was the first time Kakashi had cried in front of his teacher. He had been so afraid he would never be able to play again. Thankfully, his hand healed properly and he was able to go back to his music a short while later. Since then, he wore plated gloves to protect his hands and was extremely careful to not break his fingers again. Of course, he couldn't protect himself from every injury. When it came down to deciding between his music and protecting his village, Kakashi would lose his hands before he chanced the life of a comrade. But it would be the hardest decision he ever had to make.

"You are full of surprises," Iruka admitted as he stepped away from the ANBU. Ready to go back to his seat on the windowsill, he froze when he felt his bodyguard's hand wrap around his wrist. God, what he wouldn't give to have Inu's hands relocate on another part of his body!

Why were you so curious today? You never asked me what I was doing before.

"I was wondering what that sound was," Iruka replied with the barest of smiles. He didn't have to state it outright; Inu obviously understood that his hearing was returning to him after all this time, judging from the tightening grip around his wrist.

"You can hear me, then?"

All intelligent thought fled from the chuunin's mind at those words. It was a deep voice that struck his ears, banishing the last remnants of that persistent ringing and all worries over his fading memories. In place of the ring was a new echo. Instead of being high-pitched and annoying, this sound made Iruka shiver and his toes curl.

No one deserved to have such a sexy voice.

"U-un," Iruka was barely able to gasp, wishing he didn't feel like a pile of soft jell-o. Oh, Naruto would have a field day if he knew his brother was completely undone by a single question! How could one man have such seductive hands and a voice that would make an angel sin? It wasn't fair! Obviously not noticing Iruka's discomfort, Inu spoke again.

"But you couldn't hear yesterday?" Kakashi prayed Iruka hadn't heard his soft whimpers every time the teacher brushed past him as they fought, setting his body on fire. It was a torture Kakashi wasn't sure he would be able to take for much longer. Thankfully, Iruka had stopped their sparring session before his self-control completely unwound.

Iruka shook his head negatively, not trusting his voice just yet. Had he tried to speak, he was sure he would embarrass himself even more. After a few calming breaths, he was about to try his hand at speech, but lost any chance at it when Inu continued to speak.

"Perhaps Tsunade-sama should check and make sure everything is alright."

Damn it, no one had the right to sound so seductive when talking about something so unappealing! Iruka nodded unknowingly, wishing his bodyguard would just be quiet and give him a chance to catch his racing libido. Perhaps then, he would be able to get that strange fogginess out of his thoughts.

When he finally realized what he had agreed to, the brunet found himself already sitting in Tsunade's office. Inu was a sneaky bastard, Iruka was sure of it! Despite his paralyzing fear of what the Hokage may discover, he had agreed to see her and, if nothing else, he was a man of his word. Though he allowed the busty woman to poke and prod him, shine light all over, and ask him question after question, Iruka blamed his bad mood on his bodyguard. Said man sat in the corner of the room, ignorant of his charge's momentary hatred of him.

Finally done with her examination, Tsunade spoke, "Iruka, you've been playing around with chakra, haven't you?" The teacher furrowed his eyebrows, trying to match his leader's face to that voice, but it didn't fit. Tsunade spoke in muted tones, not this higher pitch that was far too youthful even for someone of her appearance. Then again, her face was just as fuzzy as Naruto's when he tried picturing her. Could it be that his sound-based memories had been leaving him just as quickly as those involving sight?

"He has been studying chakra pathways," Kakashi supplied from the other side of the room as he watched Iruka's face fill with confusion. He couldn't understand Iruka's reaction to Tsunade's question, much less the sigh that the Hokage let out in response.

"That explains it, then. Your ears are perfect, Iruka," she stated as she came to stand before the teacher. "Using as much chakra as you obviously have, your ability to heal has been increased a hundredfold, if not more. Your eardrums should show some kind of scarring since you've ruptured them on two separate occasions, but there is no indication of any injury. You're healing almost as well as Naruto does."

"But he heals so well because of demonic chakra," Iruka said softly, still trying to figure out why Tsunade sounded different. It took him a few moments to understand her statement. She was just one of many things he hadn't recognized the sound of. The ring of the clock tower was too piercing, the jingle of the kunai in Inu's pockets was too loud and sounded far too much like chimes.

Everything sounded different because he had gotten used to his imperfect hearing. Thanks to Naruto, his ears had been damaged since he was twenty years old. For the first time in over a decade, Iruka was able to hear things as they truly sounded and not how his scarred eardrums picked them up. Now knowing why the Hokage sounded different, Iruka nodded his head at her diagnosis. It thankfully wasn't his failing memory destroying what little peace he had left in this case.

"He heals so quickly and without scarring because he has so much chakra running through him at any given time," Tsunade replied as she glanced over at the jounin who positively exuded unease. It was obvious Kakashi was nervous that Iruka was going to figure out who he was. Perhaps she should tell the silver-haired man later, with Iruka out of earshot, that there would be no chance the brunet could recognize his voice. From what she had heard, the two temperamental men had met for the first time at Naruto's initial chuunin exam, which meant it was long after Iruka had lost some of his hearing.

"His eyes?" Kakashi whispered so quietly, Tsunade was not sure if she had heard him or imagined it. At least with his black mask, she could see his mouth move. His dog mask, on the other hand, gave her no chance to know for certain if he spoke.

Tsunade bowed her head, not wanting to dash Iruka's hopes. The last thing she wanted to do was destroy his chances at returning to a normal life. Despite being blind, the brunet somehow knew her expression was not a hopeful one.

"It's permanent, isn't it?" Iruka asked hesitantly, wishing that he could have at the very least felt the Hokage shining light into his eyes. Oh, he felt its warmth on his skin, but nothing more. There was no slight change in the colorlessness that encompassed him, no lightening of his dark prison. It was then, as he noted that lack of reaction, that the cold, harsh reality hit him. He was blind and no amount of chakra would heal his eyes.

The pain did not hit him immediately. No, he was too in shock to feel anything other than the numb tingling of an emotional overload.

"Your right eye, yes," the greatest medical mind to exist admitted reluctantly. "It was hit by the full force of the explosion. I'm sorry, but there is no chance you will ever see out of it again." She didn't know how else to tell him that, despite his increased rate of healing, his right eye was showing no signs of regaining any of its function.

Unfeelingly, Iruka nodded his head. What else could he do other than accept the Hokage's diagnosis? No amount of tears or denial would give him his sight back. The fact that he was helpless – that he had no say in his own fate – was what made him experience a wave of self-hatred. He should have been more careful in opening her letters. He should have expected an attack of some sorts. He should have seen something was wrong with the all too perfect letter. He should have been a better shinobi. Should have, would have, could have – hindsight was not going to give him his vision back, but he hated himself all the same.

"Thank you for your help, Tsunade-sama." About to leave her office and wallow in the sickening sense of loss that had hit him the moment he had walked into the Hokage Tower, he froze when she spoke again.

"There is hope for your left eye," Tsunade added hesitantly, not wanting to tell Iruka how slim that chance really was, especially not when she saw the disbelief in his face. At the same time, she didn't want to get his hopes up, but that was exactly what she was doing. She wanted him to see that there was still a chance and perhaps that would be enough of a push to bring back the old Iruka.

She missed the man who would come to sit in her office just to pass the time or to make sure she was sober enough for work. She wanted the brunet who played pranks on his own students to teach them a lesson. She needed to hear Iruka screaming at her jounin for their atrocious handwriting. Their village desperately required their greatest academy teacher.

She was grateful for everything Kakashi had done to help Iruka cope. Coming to grips with his handicaps was one thing, but the new, introverted man he had become as a result of them was another. She could see he was more in control of himself and his emotions. He was stronger as a shinobi and as a person. But he no longer trusted as easily as he once had. Tsunade had the feeling that there might be only two people alive that Iruka believed he could still trust.

It just so happened, one of them was sitting in this room, quite possibly unaware of the honor he didn't deserve.

She thought it was stupid of him in the first place to hide his identity from Iruka, but she never argued it. In fact, she helped facilitate it, knowing that there was no way Iruka would agree to have Kakashi watch over him as long as his attacker was still free. She also understood how private of a person Kakashi was. He didn't trust anyone easily, not even someone whose heart he had somehow wormed his way into. And wormed is exactly what Kakashi did. It was obvious to anyone that Iruka cared for that idiot. She was unsure what kind of connection it was on Kakashi's end, but she could see that Iruka would do anything to protect his bodyguard.

It was strange how their roles had somehow reversed enough that Iruka would see the need to protect Kakashi. The Copy Ninja was the least likely person to ever need someone else – he was a genius, he was powerful, he was the greatest shinobi of his generation. But the way he watched Iruka showed that he relied on the teacher for something that Tsunade could put no words to. It was not until Iruka finally spoke that she started understanding the fragility of Kakashi's position.

"Inu, can you take me home?" Iruka asked quietly as he slid from the table. Before he even had a chance to feel his knees buckle underneath him, his bodyguard was there, cradling him against his strong chest. Feeling weak, Iruka didn't argue against Inu's pampering. He didn't want to reveal to Tsunade that he was trembling so much, he wasn't sure he would be able to walk. Instead, he wrapped his fingers around a piece of the ANBU's cloak as he rested his head against Inu's shoulder. In his arms, Iruka felt safe for a brief moment. For that instant, Inu could shield him from the pain he knew was racing towards him.

Iruka may be blind, but he could still tell what the Hokage had not been saying out loud. Her tone of voice told him that regaining even a fraction of his sight was a near impossibility. She as good as declared that he was permanently and completely blind.

It was in that instant, as she watched Kakashi hold Iruka with such tenderness, that Tsunade finally realized how much the jounin was giving up to protect the brunet. She understood why he decided to be the teacher's bodyguard, and why he had seemed tortured by agreeing to do so.

He was in love with a man who had no idea who he was.

Knowing better than to say anything, Tsunade glanced over at Kakashi, hoping that the jounin wasn't stupid enough to let his feelings for Iruka show. She may be a romantic, but not even she could let a relationship between the two men blossom. Getting involved with one another would certainly put Iruka's life in more danger than it already was – Kakashi knew that. Focused on Iruka as a lover, he wouldn't be able to assess situations with the cool, emotionless calculations ANBU bodyguards were required to perform.

For a moment, Kakashi's shadowed gaze met hers and, in that single glance, Tsunade saw the agony she had unknowingly forced on one of her favorite shinobi. She could see that he would say anything and do anything to protect the man in his arms from any kind of pain. If it meant lying about who he was, creating a person that didn't truly exist just to keep Iruka safe, Kakashi was more than willing to do so. He would slowly open up to the brunet so that Iruka would believe him when he said that he could be handicapped and still be a great shinobi.

Tsunade could only wonder how much Kakashi was willing to reveal. Would he ever tell Iruka about his own painful past, of living with everyone's expectations and shouldering responsibility long before he should have? Would he tell him about his father? About his team?

The question that burned most in her mind was the one she knew Kakashi didn't yet have the answer to. When the time came – and she was sure it would – would Kakashi be able to tell Iruka the truth?

XXX

Permanent. A simple word that was harmless in and of itself. It was a word Iruka had never thought could have such a frightening connotation, but in reference to his blindness, it was the most terrifying thing in the world.

How could he possibly be permanently blind when just a few weeks ago, he had had a good life? Naruto had just gotten married to the man of his dreams and Iruka was content to work at the academy and as Tsunade's harried secretary. How could have things gone so wrong so quickly? How could his entire life have changed at the drop of a hat, wrenching him out of his comfortable life and thrusting him into a torture that he never deserved?

With no one to commiserate with him, no one to share the pain with, he was left completely alone to drown in the sea of darkness. Disgust in himself, hatred for his sightless eyes, despair over losing his very identity – Iruka did not know what emotion was most powerful or painful. All he was aware of was that there was nothing to save him, no anchor to hold onto as the waves of depression assaulted him, throwing him into his very own hell.

He could feel the hot tears streaking down his scarred face; he could taste the sourness of disgust in his mouth. But they were not enough to remind him that he was still alive. What did he have left that could possibly prove that he still deserved to live when he had no chance of ever returning to the life he had once known?

In the past, he recalled happy memories to keep himself from feeling the pain and sorrow of everything. But what did he have to protect him now? What memories did he have left? A fuzzy image of his beloved brother? A hazy recollection of his parents and students? They were not enough, not by half. He wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the imminent collapse, saving him just for a few more moments before there was nothing left to shield him from the horrifying truth.

He would have been better off dying that day.

XXX

For the rest of the day, Kakashi felt helpless as Iruka shut himself into the jounin's room. Refusing to come out, much less unlock the door, Iruka had been in there for hours. Kakashi respected the fact Iruka would need time to come to grips with the news that, even if a miracle happened, he would still be partially blind for the rest of his life.

Partially blind – just like him.

Despite Tsunade's grim diagnosis, he clung to the ounce of optimism that his hard lifestyle had yet to crush completely. Until the day she said there was no chance for Iruka's left eye, he would consider the possibility that there was hope for the teacher.

Weakly, Kakashi touched the scar on the left side of his face, wishing that he knew what to say to Iruka. Nothing he could do or say would make the teacher feel better, but he could stand as an example that partial blindness was not the end. The mere thought of opening up that much to Iruka made him tremble. How could he say out loud something he even refused to speak of in his mind when he visited Obito and the others?

He slowly moved to stand, hoping that if he knocked on the door, Iruka might answer. It had been far too long since he had heard a sound come out of the room. He wasn't worried about an enemy attack here. He had been on guard since returning from Tsunade's office, but there wasn't even a flicker of activity. No one had infiltrated his apartment; there were no traps, no poisons, nothing that could hurt Iruka.

But Iruka was hurt and there was no protecting him from this attack.

Closing his eyes, Kakashi wished that it had been a weapon that was making Iruka so silent. He knew how to take care of physical wounds. Even a strange jutsu, he could see through and save the teacher from. But this was neither. It was an emotional and psychological problem for which there was no quick and easy solution in his shinobi handbook. For the first time in so many years, he felt completely helpless.

He took a deep breath as he knocked on the locked door, expecting no response and getting none. It took little more than a gesture to pick the lock, but he was still hesitant to enter the room. Finally mustering the courage, he opened the door and walked into the dark room.

His eye immediately scanned the room, finding his charge huddled on the bed. Resting his back against the wall, with his knees drawn up to his chin and his head buried underneath his folded arms, Iruka could have been sleeping for all Kakashi knew. He didn't respond when the jounin sat down on the edge of the bed. After a moment of painful silence, the jounin gingerly touched one of his arms.

Iruka?

A soft, muffled sound reached Kakashi's ears and he felt a stab of remorse when he recognized it as a sob. Before he knew what he was doing, he found himself pulling Iruka into his lap and simply holding him as a new wave of tears hit the exhausted teacher.

Gently, he began rubbing small circles against Iruka's back as he tried remembering how his father had used to soothe him when he was very young. Wholly unfamiliar with comforting someone else, Kakashi was amazed when Iruka sagged against him, easily soaking his shirt with his tears. A selfish side of the jounin could not help but love the attention and blind trust Iruka showed him. He adored that the teacher did not become uneasy by his embrace, but instead pressed against him as though he was trying to crawl into Kakashi's body, hiding from the rest of the world around them.

Disgusted with himself for enjoying even an instant of Iruka's pain, Kakashi instead tightened his arms around the brunet, forcing himself to think of anything other than the handsome man in his lap. He softly made shushing sounds, wishing that Iruka's sobs did not tear so painfully at his own heart. This was for Iruka, not for his own selfish desires. That knowledge gave Kakashi the strength to comfort the man he loved, not for a moment wondering how his actions went against everything he as a shinobi, and especially as an ANBU bodyguard, stood for. He did not even think about how, the closer he got to Iruka, the sooner the teacher would figure out his identity. All that mattered was the brunet in his arms and his emotional wellbeing.

Iruka had no words to describe the sheer darkness he felt. Though he had known how small his chances were for regaining full vision, he had unconsciously clung to that idea. He had thought it to be the only fair outcome. But this was not a perfect world. He was not someone who was always nursing one injury or another. He was not immune to the pain of his wounds. He was not accustomed to any of this. He was not one of those great, powerful shinobi his students worshiped. He was just an academy teacher who was helping out by being Tsunade's secretary for a few months. He was not meant for the drama and danger other, more seasoned shinobi dealt with on a daily basis.

He was not supposed to be blinded in an explosion that may or may not have been meant for him. If there was any merciful deity, they would have just killed him in the attack instead of letting him linger in this farce of an existence.

Iruka sobbed against his bodyguard's hard chest, wishing he had never been sucked into working for Tsunade. He had never thought that he would lose his eyesight. He never imagined his life would be in constant danger and that his entire life would be changed because of one fateful afternoon.

In the past few hours, he had run through every emotion imaginable. Self-pity couldn't help him now. He couldn't be angry – he had no idea who to direct his anger at. Certainly not Tsunade or Shizune. He couldn't possibly resent other shinobi who still had their vision. He did not even know who had attacked him. If anyone deserved his rage, it would be that mysterious person, but since he did not know who it was, he directed the hatred at himself.

He had been the one who made the mistake that cost him his eyesight. He was the one who was not healing. He was the one who ultimately had to live with his stupidity. And, for that, he could not help but hate the weak, trustful person he had been. That hatred easily turned into a black depression that Iruka wasn't sure he wanted to save himself from.

Iruka clung to Inu because he was the only anchor the brunet had left. The ANBU member was the only proof that he wasn't dreaming. Inu's strong heartbeat and his gentle touch reminded Iruka that this one nightmare he couldn't wake up from.

It was some time before Iruka found that he had no more tears to cry. Feeling drained, he simply rested against Inu's supporting frame until he found his voice again. "I'm afraid," he admitted hoarsely, finally able to hear his own wavering tone. Even though he had lived just over a month of painful silence, Iruka's voice sounded unfamiliar to his own ears. And he knew it had little to do with his perfect hearing. No, his voice was more emotionally revealing than he could ever remember it being. For the first time in his life, he was opening up to someone else – and it scared the daylights out of him almost as much as Tsunade's grim diagnosis. He would never have his old life back. No matter how slim the chances, he still had them before. Now, the very best he could hope for was a half-life where, though obviously not allowed to train students because he only had one good eye, he might be able to still work in the Missions Office.

It wasn't much of a life to look forward to and, for that reason, Iruka found himself talking to the one person he could confide in. He knew Inu would not scoff at his fears, no matter how groundless they were. He had the feeling that, if anyone could understand him, it would be his bodyguard.

"You wouldn't be a good shinobi if you weren't afraid sometimes," Kakashi replied as softly as he could, continuing to gently rub the teacher's back. Any shinobi worthy of the title was willing to admit when they were overwhelmed, when they needed help. No one could do it all – not even him, though Kakashi had striven to do so for many years.

"You're telling me you've been afraid before?" Iruka whispered disbelievingly. It was hard to imagine someone as powerful and self-assured as his bodyguard could be afraid of anything. It was unbelievable that that strong, deep voice could have once trembled in fear as Iruka's had been. How could that powerful body and those confident hands once quiver in terror? It seemed impossible, but Iruka knew Inu was not lying.

Tightening his arms around the teacher, he remembered when he had found Naruto after his fight with Sasuke. No child that energetic should be so still and pale. A part of him had broken when he was forced to question if he had lost one of the most important people in his life without ever telling Naruto what he had meant to him.

Recalling that first morning when he woke up to permanent blackness in his left eye, Kakashi answered without feeling any embarrassment for saying so.

"Terrified."

He was scared to death the day he got home from a mission only to come home to a house that was too quiet. It wasn't the silence of his father not being there. It was something that only now, after experiencing it so many times, he knew to be the sound of death. A chuunin for already two years, he was thought to be mature far beyond his years. That didn't stop him from dropping at his father's side, yelling for him to wake up. He refused to look at the blood that covered his father, the floor, and his own hands. He had screamed until he was hoarse, shaking his father's cold shoulders, trying to wake his only family up, though he knew somewhere in his heart that it was futile. When he had finally fallen silent, that painful, frightening silence returned.

No, Kakashi understood fear all too well.

Iruka felt his bodyguard's rapid breathing, his racing heart. Whatever he was reliving, it was something that could still scare him just by the memory of it. For a moment, the teacher felt remorse for making Inu remember something that still affected him so heavily.

"I'm terrified of losing people I care about," Kakashi finally said softly, remembering all the names that he recognized on the memorial – and the one that should be there despite his dishonorable death. No one should have to bury so many loved ones. "I've seen far too many of them die."

Iruka nodded his head, understanding the very human fear of death. It was a fear that shinobi rarely admitted to because of their profession, but it was one that all of them had to come to grips with. The teacher didn't fear his own death as much as he did the deaths of Naruto, other students, friends and fellow citizens. Yet death was a common part of his profession, so Iruka dealt with the deaths of others by keeping their memory alive.

But how could he keep remembering them when he could no longer recall their faces? The shade of their skin? The color of their eyes? It was a question he did not even want to consider. The gaping hole that his blindness had torn in his soul was far too raw and painful to start thinking about his fading memories. The agony of realizing everything and everyone he knew was disappearing from his mind would throw him over the edge far faster than his permanent blindness.

"I'm afraid of change – I don't know any life other than being a shinobi," Iruka admitted, not wanting to comment on how he thought death would be better than living with his blindness. He knew that Inu would argue that with him and, at the moment, he did not want to deal with his bodyguard's stubbornness. He was surprised when he not only felt, but heard Inu let out a soft sigh.

"I told you once that you are a shinobi as long as you prove that you still deserve your chuunin title. So far, I haven't seen anything that says you're incapable of doing so," Kakashi said, still not ready to tell Iruka that he wouldn't be the only handicapped shinobi proudly wearing a hitai-ate.

Iruka smiled against his bodyguard's chest, wishing he had his optimism. There was nothing left for him without his sight. He could not continue on like this. He had always thought he was strong, but he did not want this kind of difficulty – he could not handle it. It could never get any better, no matter how fake of a smile he plastered on his face to hide the desire to die. He was cowardly – or maybe honorable – enough to refuse the simple out of suicide, but what were his other options?

He had yet to figure out how to proficiently fight using taijutsu with his lack of vision, but could Inu be right in assuring him that he could do it? If he one day figured it out, would it be so hard to adapt to his new life? Could he actually return to the shinobi world handicapped as he was and one day end his life admirably? He would never have his old life back, but, as he felt Inu's calming heartbeat beneath his fingertips, he started to realize that he no longer wanted that same old life anymore.

He knew that there was no chance that he could completely adjust. He would always miss his eyesight, always desperately wanting to know what the world around him looked like, but could Inu be right? Could he relearn everything and use his newfound sensitivities in touch and smell to continue living?

Iruka felt a flicker of hope warm his chest and he quickly stomped it out. No, he realized, as he pulled his face away from his bodyguard's tear-soaked shirt, that he could never come to terms with his blindness. He could never accept being a part of this dark world where sounds were too loud. There was no way he could get used to how his sensitive nose and tongue picked up everything around him. Then, there was how every inch of his skin cried out with sensations – the slight coarseness of his own shirt brushing against him, the firmness of Inu's body underneath and around him.

No, he could never grow accustomed to the sensitivity of his remaining senses. Not when he missed his sight so very much. He could have lived with being deaf. He would have gladly given up his sense of taste or smell if he could exchange it for his vision. Tilting his head upwards out of habit, Iruka wished he could see the man he sensed staring down at him. Instead of seeing Inu's half-scarred face, Iruka was met with his bodyguard's warm, minty breath. He could feel a piercing gaze on him, searching his features for something.

What was Inu looking for? What did he hope to find? Who was he? Iruka asked himself these questions and many more as he tried to understand the man who could push him so hard that Iruka could momentarily hate him, but selflessly comfort Iruka when he needed it the most. If he could have his vision back, Iruka was certain he could answer many those questions with ease. If he could just look into Inu's eyes for a moment, he might understand who the man was – what made him into the great shinobi he was and the even more amazing person he was when they were alone.

Unconsciously, Iruka's fingers moved up the ANBU member's muscular chest and neck. His fingertips picked up the quickening throb in the man's neck, and his ears registered the increased tempo of a powerful heartbeat. Continuing upwards, Iruka's fingers trailed along a narrow jaw and a perfectly sculpted chin.

Inu was too handsome for words. Iruka found his own heart changing tempo as he daringly moved his fingers up both sides of his motionless bodyguard's face. What his sensitive fingers were met with was not what he was expecting. Anticipating thick, knotted tissue covering the left side of Inu's face, Iruka was momentarily stunned when he felt nothing out of the ordinary other than the absolute perfection of a beautiful face.

Inu was not horribly scarred, Iruka quickly came to realize as his fingers trailed up the sides of his bodyguard's face. Out of a mixture of curiosity and desire, Iruka continued to touch Inu's face. His fingers moved inward, feeling the softness of an eyebrow. But something was wrong. As soon as he felt it, Iruka's fingers froze, hovering over the nearly nonexistent dip in silken skin.

So Inu did have a scar? Iruka did not register that his bodyguard was trembling beneath him, losing what little self-control he possessed as the brunet in his lap mapped out his face. Instead, Iruka innocently pressed his fingers against that thin, vertical scar, and then followed it downwards over the ANBU member's left eye and to the middle of his cheek.

Was this what Inu was so sensitive about? It was just a small scar and, as Iruka added it to his mental picture of his bodyguard, the brunet found himself appreciating the older man all the more. That single scar on an otherwise godly face made Inu far more appealing than if he had been completely unmarred. It proved that, despite his unfathomable beauty, Inu was still human enough to be injured.

That single mark was something that had frightened Inu; Iruka could not understand why, but because of it, he appreciated the opportunity to touch the left side of Inu's face all the more. Iruka leaned forwards, acting without thinking as he pressed his lips against the bottom of the scar. As soon as he did so, he felt his bodyguard stiffen underneath him and, for the first time, Iruka forced himself to focus on the rest of the ANBU member. Inu was quivering, his heart racing, his breathing labored.

Able now to not only feel, smell, and taste, but also hear, Iruka was overrun with signals that all told him one thing: Inu was quite affected by his innocent caresses.

"I-I…" Iruka did not know what to say to a man whose lap he was curled up in. What could he say to explain his chaste kissing of Inu's single scar? How could he brush off the thrilling shock that went through him as he realized just how close his lips were to his bodyguard's? For a moment, Iruka did not mind his heightened senses. He could taste the man's warm breath, smell his unique scent, but, most of all, he could feel every inch of the ANBU member as though he was enveloping the tall man.

What would Inu do if he just leaned forwards? How would the ANBU member react if Iruka lessened the distance between their lips – of if he dared to kiss Inu like his entire body was screaming for him to do? Iruka never got to mentally answer those questions. His mind blanked the moment he felt something against his lips, searing his very flesh with the barely restrained strength he could sense underneath that delicious contact. When it finally clicked that Inu's lips were pressed against his own, Iruka whimpered.

That soft sound made what little self-control Kakashi possessed disappear instantly. Groaning, the jounin crushed his lips against the brunet's, his hands already moving to grip the backs of Iruka's arms so that the younger man could not pull away. Instead of stiffening as Kakashi expected him to, Iruka melted against him. Lean legs wrapped around Kakashi's middle as the brunet's fingers wove into his hair.

With no more than a thought, Iruka pulled his bodyguard's hair from its restraining ponytail and ran his fingers through the soft strands as he opened his mouth. The older man needed no other invitation as he deepened their kiss, tasting every inch of that hot cavern.

Iruka gasped as his bodyguard kissed him. Nothing could compare to the mind-blowing sensations racing through him. This was more than anything he could have imagined. He could not only hear his bodyguard's heart, but he could feel its very rhythm against his own chest as he pressed himself flush against the older man. He could taste Inu's chronically minty breath; he could smell the elite shinobi's desire as though it was its own heady perfume, filling the room until Iruka's head spun.

A quiet moan escaped Iruka's mouth, quickly swallowed by the man kissing him. Iruka returned that wet pressure, wishing that Inu could experience a fraction of the sensations that were wracking his entire body, arousing him in ways he never imagined possible.

How could he have never realized just how amazing a kiss tasted? How had he never smelled the aroma of lust and sweat until now? Was it truly possible he had kissed someone before and missed feeling the rapid rise and fall of their chest with every inch of his body? Then there were the gentle touches against his arms, his neck, back – fingers flitted across his entire frame, branding his skin with desire as though there was no material separating them. It was all too much – all he could do was mold himself against the ANBU member and sob with need. Overloaded with all the new sensations filling him, he could not sense the tears leaking out of his useless eyes. All he could feel, taste, smell and hear was his bodyguard. Inu was all that mattered. Iruka lost himself in his bodyguard's arms, for a moment not recalling that he was blind and without a future. All he cared about was continuing the wondrous experience that proved that he was still alive.

Some part of Kakashi's lust-fogged brain screamed for him to stop. Iruka was emotionally-compromised – he was not kissing him because he wanted this, Kakashi was certain of it! Just a few moments ago, the brunet was bawling against his chest. It was not right that he take advantage of Iruka, not when what he needed most was someone to comfort him.

That thought made Kakashi finally freeze, his nearly-forgotten conscience being thrown into overdrive as he pulled away from his charge. As soon as he was able to see Iruka's entire face, the jounin winced. Even in this darkness, there was no way he could miss the twin streaks of tears running down the brunet's flushed face.

"Damn it…" Kakashi muttered under his breath, hoping that not even Iruka's sensitive ears picked up his words. Slowly releasing the teacher's arms, he brought his hands up to gently brush the tears away from Iruka's face. He had not meant to make Iruka cry – hell, he had not even meant to kiss him, but how could he have stopped himself when Iruka was so close, silently begging to be kissed?

As soon as Inu pulled away from him, Iruka felt a void surround him. Despite still having those warm hands touching him, they were no longer the caresses of a lover. He could still smell and taste his bodyguard's breath and skin, but those sensations were no longer as appetizing as they had been just a few seconds ago. Regret filled the air and all of Iruka's remaining senses could pick up on that emotion as though Inu had spoken it aloud. The pain of rejection stabbed at his chest as he realized the ANBU member had pulled away from him.

No longer overrun by sensations, Iruka found his earlier emotions coming back to haunt him. As Inu silently looked at him, his depression enveloped him, though not so completely that he did not feel the flush of mortification as he realized that he had kissed his bodyguard. Inu had not been the one to begin their kiss, was he? How could he have when he was a bodyguard? He had sworn to protect Iruka with his life and could not possibly threaten that by becoming emotionally involved. No, Inu was more professional than that…wasn't he?

And he had been the one to pull away first, blindsiding Iruka's heightened, aroused senses with emotions that only made the loneliness and bleak depression all the worse. After all, who could ever possibly want a blind ex-shinobi? No, Inu could not have meant to kiss him, if in fact the ANBU member had made the first move. Iruka wished he had not heard his bodyguard's soft curse. No, the ANBU member must lament their impulsive actions. It only made his own desire all the more painful as he assured himself that Inu did not want him.

Blushing furiously, Iruka moved quickly as he all but leapt off of the man's lap, falling off the edge of the bed in his rush to get away from Inu. Falling unceremoniously to the floor, Iruka could not stop himself from scuttling backwards. Once he was far enough away from the ANBU member that he no longer could feel the beat of his heart against his chest or the searing throb of his arousal against his leg, Iruka was able to breathe a little more evenly. It was not until he filled his nostrils with something other than Inu's scent that the lump in his throat softened. But he could not stop his own body from trembling in desire, no matter how far away from the man he was. Finally no longer filled with sensations evoked by his bodyguard, Iruka could feel unstoppable tears trekking down his face. The tears quickly changed from those of desperate need to sorrow as Iruka wrapped his arms around his cooling frame, already missing the warmth of Inu's body. Rejection was something that he was not prepared to deal with, especially not from someone who he had finally opened up to.

"I-I think I'm going to go to bed," Iruka whispered as his fingers scratched against the wooden floor, trying to remove the memory of Inu's soft skin from his fingertips. He did not want to apologize for kissing Inu – he did not want to voice the simple fact that the kiss should have never happened. For a few seconds, his blindness had made no difference. It was as though he was normal again while kissing Inu. But how could he explain that to the man who positively radiated remorse? Inu's next words only cemented the pain of loneliness in Iruka's mind.

"I'm sorry about that, Iruka," Kakashi said so quietly, he could barely hear his own voice, but from how Iruka's entire body stiffened, he knew the teacher had understood him perfectly. Though every inch of his being screamed for him to go to the brunet and continue kissing him, he couldn't do it. How could he knowingly seduce the man he loved when Iruka obviously didn't want him?

Unchecked tears were running down Iruka's face and the teacher had flown away from him as though he had been stung – those were not the actions of someone who was enjoying himself. No, even though it physically hurt to stand up and slowly move out of the room, Kakashi knew that it was what was best for his emotional charge. He could not do anything to harm Iruka, especially when the brunet needed something much more than a lover.

He needed someone who could help him navigate out of the sea of emotions he was feeling. Someone had to be there to for Iruka, to tell him that the shock and depression would eventually go away if he fought them. That someone had to understand the pain and loneliness. They had to know what the nothingness of blindness felt like.

Kakashi was all of that – or he had the potential to be. He had no idea if he could possibly help Iruka, no matter how confident Tsunade had been in him after the explosion. How could he make Iruka see that he could recover from the depression and that he could still live without his eyesight?

But, worst of all, how could he do it while ignoring his heart? How could he stand to the side as Iruka slowly came to grips with his blindness? How could he teach him to fight without each touch filling him with desire? How could he watch Iruka improve every single day and not fall more and more in love with him? How could he hold him and comfort him without another repeat of tonight?

With all the questions and insecurities in his mind, there was only one thing Kakashi was certain of: he could not hurt Iruka by forcing his feelings on him. No, no matter what, he would not kiss him again, no matter how desperately he wanted him. For that reason, Kakashi said one more thing before he hastily retreated from the one person who truly made him feel human.

"I'm sorry, Iruka. It will never happen again."

XXX

Authoress: *pulls hair out in frustration* DAMN YOU KAKASHI! YOU HAD IRUKA HOT AND PANTING IN YOUR LAP AND YOU MESSED IT UP! Come on, he was throwing himself at you! Anyways…now that I've vented a bit…just to clarify one thing (thank you, Curious-san for bringing it up in your review) – this story is set in the future (about a decade after the series – Iruka is 34, Kakashi is 38…making Naruto, Sasuke, and the others 23-25 (depending on the character)). Also, a huuuuuge thank you goes to B.Z.-chan and Dragons-chan for beta-ing this chapter! They do amazing work and put up with me! And everyone should worship Dragons-chan – she is the reason there was a lovely kiss this chapter! YOSH! So, please review and, until next time, ja ne!