Genre: Angst, Romance
Status: WIP
Summary: Iruka plans a pleasant surprise for Kakashi to take his mind off training ... of course, the best laid plans of dolphins and men go oft astray... and angst ensues
Warnings: yaoi, coarse language, violence, steadily building angst, will eventually have NC-17 lemon. Specific warnings posted for each chapter.
Disclaimer: You know Naruto and its characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto, because if I owned them, yaoi pairings would be canon… "The One I Love" lyrics belong to Big Country
Occurs several weeks after the end of "Odd Admiration" within the Tolerant Intolerance universe, (early November) with permission from Hatochan. Story title comes from Big Country's "Fields of Fire" ; Thanks to all the people who wished me and my husband well and safe return
For those who don't know, kaa-san is a Japanese word for mother, Ji-Ji is uncle or old man, and gaki is brat.
To Hatochan, for bedtime stories of stableboys and princes, and for all the help in this chapter ever being posted... and to Iruka, for always being there to keep his 'Kashi sane.
Before the Journey and the Rest: Chapter 6
There were you and me
Seems like twenty five years ago
This old city was different then
How were we to know
I've got to live my life
In a simple way
Got to live it all
In a single day, a single day
The one I love is still in you
And the one I want is in there too
The one I love is still in you
I don't have the time that I used to
I can be your miracle man
Maybe it's my day
I was always a lucky man
Teach me how to pray
I believe in you
You know it too
You can leave me out
But what I do is what I do
The one I love is still in you
And the one I want is in there too
The one I love is still in you
I don't have the time that I used to
Shizune tested the temperature of the bowl of water. It was still cold, if no longer slushy, and she soaked another cloth in it. She bathed the fevered brow of the pale-haired jounin before her. He was becoming restless again. Although she soothed, stroked, petted, and crooned, the man became increasingly agitated as the minutes passed. She almost regretted letting Iruka take the short break, but knew he would need all the strength he could get for what looked to be a long fight. Kakashi seemed unable to relax without Iruka's presence. She knew better than to wish he could watch during the fever episodes while she took over the conscious interludes. Iruka would worry himself more seeing only the desperation of the man's struggles if he couldn't see the promise of the more quiet, lucid moments.
Kakashi's tossing continued, and Shizune grew a bit more concerned. If this level of activity persisted, they would need to think about sedation. In his current mental state, restraint wasn't an option, and they couldn't let him hurt himself more in his delirium. She stroked the flushed cheek, humming tunelessly, but the struggles went on unabated for the next several minutes. Even as she considered going for Iruka, the wild movements slowed. She waited a few moments and watched the flush slowly recede, and relaxed even more when she heard the soft footfalls of the returning chuunin.
She looked up as the door opened, unable despite herself to keep from admiring the still slightly damp chest covered by clingy ANBU blacks, and she was glad that had been the nearest storeroom when she had gathered the few supplies they had brought with them. She shook her head, wondering at her recent fascination with dripping shinobi. Still, the three she had admired, as well as the one lying in the bed before her, were prime examples of high-level ninja in peak training.
"Thank you, Shizune-san. I feel much better now. You were right. I can't help him if I don't take care of myself as well."
Shizune lifted one finger for silence as she looked intently at Kakashi and frowned. Obviously, Kakashi had been overtraining recently. The signs were obvious now that she was thinking of training regimens. He had the worn look, overly translucent skin that seemed stretched too thin across his high cheekbones, tight muscles with not even a hint of extra fat, ribs showing, dark circles under his eyes... Actually... she looked a little closer... this was more than simple overtraining. Most ninjas at least skirted the edges of that at one time or another, usually new ANBU recruits bent on proving themselves, but Kakashi seemed to have taken it to new extremes. She knew he had been burdened with an extra share of missions now that he no longer had a genin team, especially in the current political climate with the village being shorthanded. Still… he looked close to the brink of exhaustion, and she sighed, wondering if he would ever learn that his body had limits. Chakra depletion how many times before and now overtraining. What would he put himself (and the hospital's medical staff) through next? She hated to think a ninja of their village could be so rundown with no one even noticing, but then she considered the ninja in question and it all made perfect, terrible sense.
"How long has he been like this?" She pointed to the bony ribs.
"I think it started about two months ago. I remember a two-week period of intense training before he was sent out. It's a little hard to tell exactly when he got like this; he's been gone the better part of six weeks now, with two almost back-to-back missions. I was out on the trails and tracking field problem with the third years when he returned, so I didn't see him. He seemed so tired when he got back, and he was so thin, but that comes with the type of missions they send him on, so I didn't think it was anything other than that." Iruka's voice grew quieter, musing. "He doesn't like leaf ration bars, prefers ration packs from Stone that he trades for. He said something about acquiring a taste for them back during the war. I guess they took whatever they could get then... I guess he started running short..."
Something tickled the back of Shizune's mind, something important, but she couldn't quite pin it down.
"He's been so tense and jumpy lately, too. So after a few days I decided to try well, you know, a few things to get him to relax." The voice tightened. "And then it all went to hell... Before I knew it, he was yelling something about not doing anything wrong and then, I don't know. um, 'No, Keberu-san, no,' and he ran out into the storm."
"Keberu-san? That sounds like what I heard him say earlier, while he was feverish. We should let Tsunade know, in case it has any significance. Hmm. So, then you chased him through this weather, tonight."
Iruka nodded. "I lost him for a bit and that's when I ran into Raidou and Genma. Apparently they were in his way. I think he just wanted to get here and apparently went through anyone and anything to do it. He threw a relatively low-level lightning jutsu at them. Last I heard, Genma was still complaining about the shock he got on his tongue when a stray bolt hit his senbon."
Shizune almost laughed outright at the picture. She couldn't wait till things settled down a little bit and she could tease the tokujou about it. She might share his affinity for for his weapon of choice and the poisons that went along with it, (and certain other non-combat preoccupations) but she certainly had the sense not to walk around with one in her mouth on a regular basis, and a poisoned one at that. She was sure he must have had a few interesting incidents when he started that habit. At least it had probably had the semi-beneficial side effect of boosting his own resistance to whatever toxin he favored. She should compare notes later to see which one he preferred and why. She pulled her wandering mind back to Iruka and the matter at hand.
"We sent Raidou off to to the tower for backup., I remembered visiting Kakashi's family a few times when I was younger, and when I realized where we were I took a hunch and found him here in the garden." Iruka's voice cracked. "He was clutching the bare blade of an old weathered katana like a lifeline. He was so pale and cold I almost though I was too late. I sent Genma for help and stayed with him. Tsunade brought us inside and tried chakra healing, but she said he fought too hard against her, so she could only just barely stabilize him. She didn't even have time to catalog his injuries before he shut down on her. And that's it. You showed up and she went back to the tower. You know everything that's happened since then."
She nodded. "If you look closely, you'll see he's been overtraining. When he gets over this you'll need to keep a close eye on him to make sure he doesn't do it again. Usually we see this in younger shinobi trying to prove themselves. We actually monitored him for a while after Itachi's attack to make sure it didn't happen. I can't tell you how many 19-year-old new ANBU recruits I see almost as bad as this every year. It looks like he was close to full exhaustion, though. If he had been on a mission like this and overused his chakra even slightly he might not have made it. Whatever happened tonight was probably mainly due to his general run-down state. I'll talk to Tsunade, we can't let this happen to him on a regular basis. If you'd had a chance to see him in between those last two missions, things might not be so bad right now. I'll have her put an official memorandum to that effect in his records. It won't prevent him being sent out again like this on mission essential taskings, but they'll be reminded of what they're risking if they don't at least allow him minimal downtime. He won't like it, but I'd feel better requiring quarterly physicals with Tsunade, as well. You would think a jounin would take better care of himself.
Iruka's barest hint of a smile showed his agreement with her last statement. "You're forgetting one important fact, Shizune-san. He is a genius. That negates any tactical advantage he might gain from being a jounin."
Shizune did laugh this time.
"He's so busy saving the world that he forgets about himself. He has been shinobi so long, from such a young age, that he has completely internalized every ideal, each precept. All the shinobi rules are Kakashi's nindo, really, regardless of what he tells you about teamwork and missions. Duty before self. It describes him beautifully. Duty before personal health, feelings, or even honor. And although I find it admirable, when I see him like this, I can't help wanting to curse anyone who thinks so little of Leaf shinobi as to forget that we are more than tools, we are people too. I would never hesitate to give up my life for my team, for the mission, but Kakashi seems to have given his entire life to the mission. He forgets he is still only a man after all, with any other man's frailties, any other man's needs, like sleep, food, shelter, you know, the little things..."
She realized the complete and utter truth of that statement. In Kakashi's eyes, they truly were negligible. He took what care he did of himself merely because it was required as a shinobi that he keep himself in proper fighting readiness. He ensured the well-being, comfort, and safety of his team and subordinates while neglecting his own, beyond the bare basics needed for survival. Another piece of the puzzle that was Hatake Kakashi clicked into place; what a trite and tired cliche in this case though, as if any two-dimensional contrivance could ever come close to properly describing the bratty genius jounin. She gave up trying to decipher the many intricate layers making up the man lying before her. She needed to take her own advice so she could remain effective.
"He seems to be resting well enough, for now, at least. I'll bring a fresh bowl of water and then I'll rest for awhile. Make sure you wake me by midnight or if he gets noticeably worse." The dark-haired kunoichi silently left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Iruka laid the discarded cloths to dry over a pack near the fire, and retrieved a fresh pile. After arranging them to his liking, he turned to see what else needed to be done and sighed. The small room was already orderly. It had been quite uncluttered to begin with, and Shizune had not done much to alter that. The more he looked around the room, the more he realized 'uncluttered' was too friendly a word to describe the place. It deserved something harsher, like bare, or spartan. There was very little furniture; only the futon, a dresser, a writing desk and chair, a small bookshelf, and a single trunk filled the room. There were even fewer personal effects displayed in the room, mainly a small, well-worn stack of books and a picture frame with a collage of photos. The room seemed too small and sparse for a guest room, but would a servant's room still have personal items after all these years?
He picked up the photo frame and realized his mistake immediately. The pictures left no doubt as to the room's owner. Laughing gray eyes underneath a red maple tree smiled back from one picture. The White Fang looking tenderly down at his newborn son. Sakumo standing beside Jiraiya in some foreign village. The two Hatakes standing on either side of a very young Kakashi on his first day at the academy. His own father and Sakumo with himself and Kakashi asleep in a pile in the forest after a picnic and sakura viewing, some of the pink petals covering them. Kakashi almost grinning beside a young Namikaze-san. Tsunade, Kyoko, and his own mother giggling over tea and cakes, watching a small Kakashi and an even smaller dark-skinned babe that could only be himself. A formal wedding photo of Sakumo and Kyoko. In the corner of the frame, dusty from being outside the glass, was a small tattered photo of Kakashi's team. He let the memories wash over him before returning the frame to its place.
He let a tan finger trail along the edges of the stack before lifting them to look closer. Seven small books, bound in leather of various dark colors. The comforting smell of leather wafted up to him, soothing his jangled nerves.
Shizune returned and placed the fresh bowl of slush next to him. "I sent a summons to Tsunade updating her on Kakashi's condition. She recommended a light sedative if his agitation gets too severe. No more than two drops in a cup of tea should be sufficient." She handed a dark brown phial to the chuunin. "I'll go rest now, but notify me if things worsen."
He nodded and resumed perusing the small hand-bound books. There were no titles, merely a gold stamped kanji numeral on each spine. He opened a book at random, careful not to disturb the order of the stack, and noted the number 3 on the spine. There were tales of romance and drama, full of stirring battles and chaste kisses shared by lovers. He flipped through idly, pausing to sample passages from various stories. Surprisingly, the battles were described quite accurately, but not in the normal dry writing style most academics favored. This was a tactical genius with the soul of a poet… or a poet blessed with tactical genius.
The rich descriptions brought each fight to life, and he imagined he saw history unfolding before him. The more tender moments were no less vividly detailed, and he flipped to the front, wondering what author had produced such a wonder of literary brilliance. The title page was hand illustrated and labeled in beautiful script. 'To Hatake Kakashi on the occasion of his tenth birthday, Jiraiya.' At the bottom of the page was a hand-written note, 'Happy Birthday, Kashi-gaki, Ji-Ji.'
Iruka stared in amazement.
He was startled from his reverie some moments later by a low cry. Kakashi lay on the futon, struggling with unseen phantoms. A hectic flush spread across the pallid skin as the fever once again took hold. Iruka quickly grabbed one of the cloths and dipped it in the cool water, bathing the shinobi's heated brow. He sang a quiet lullaby barely remembered from childhood, hoping the same rituals his mother had performed when he was sick would aid his ailing lover.
The thrashing about eased marginally and the sweat-darkened head turned slightly towards the crooning. The eyes remained shut tight, but a small amount of tension seemed to leave the body. As the minutes went by, however, even the small bit of composure Iruka gave him dissolved as the waves of delirium dragged him under to drown in their depths. Iruka could only watch, helpless, the tremors and ravings that tormented the copy-nin's delusional mind. He remained alert, knowing how dangerous a hallucinating ninja of Kakashi's level could be. The fever spiraled ever higher and Iruka's spirits plummeted lower. He kept up a steady mantra of reassurances and endearments, hoping that eventually something would get through to Kakashi. The distress evident in the older man's struggles enhanced his appearance of frailty, and Iruka wondered how much more he could withstand. He wished Shizune was there to help, but feared leaving the ill shinobi alone for even the scant minute it would take to alert her. He suffered through a few more moments of rising panic before he realized he could use a summons to wake the Hokage's assistant. Hard on the heels of that thought, however, he heard a small sigh. The angry red faded to a mottled red and then a bright pink.
As the fevered movements slowed and then stilled, the flush reluctantly left the sharp cheeks. Iruka pushed the disheveled hair back away from his face and kissed the care worn brow. He stroked the now pale cheek once more before leaving the man alone in the arms of sleep, not wanting to disturb even what small rest he could come by. He sighed and reached for another leather-bound volume, this one bearing the numeral one and the inscription 'To Hatake Kakashi, Autumn of your eighth year;' the handwritten note this time bore the words 'Gaki, hope this helps with the boredom, here's to a speedy recovery, Ji-Ji.' Odd. The first one isn't for his birthday. The autumn he turned eight…
Memory slammed hard into Iruka. Memory of a small funeral, shinobi in mourning attire gathered around the heavy-eyed young Hatake, tension so strong even the five-year-old Iruka could feel it. Memory of whispered late night conversations between his parents, his own mother crying, sobbing, "He's still only a child." Memory of the young Kakashi's visit mere days later, and waking up amidst lightning and thunder, to screaming and yelling, the soothing voice of his mother, the calm, even tones of his father, then more yelling, and the loud clatter of an overturned table punctuated by the crash of broken glass, followed by the slamming of the door; more soft sobbing from his mother, until he finally left his bed to crawl up into her lap, placing his arms around her neck, attempting to give comfort, even though he didn't know what was happening. Then, what seemed like hours later, his father returning, a cold, worn, tired Kakashi cradled in his arms, his mother fussing and soothing, Kakashi drawn to the attention even as he pushed away from the contact, finally giving in, unable to resist the mothering. He had forgotten until this moment his mother crooning a soft lullaby as she tried to ease the fretful young shinobi into sleep, Kakashi refusing until the sleepy-eyed Iruka had snuggled against him, using him as a pillow. He didn't remember how Kakashi had instantly quieted, not wanting to wake him, slipping into sleep, his warm breath shifting Iruka's hair.
Iruka sat, staring unseeing for several moments, finally realizing two tired eyes were looking his way. "Kakashi! Are you feeling any better?" There was a slow nod. "Good. Can I get you anything?" This time there was a small shake. "Are you sure? Are you warm enough? Oh, your ribs! How do they feel?"
A small voice answered. "I'm fine, Umino-san."
Iruka frowned, wondering at the stiff formality.
A very quietly whispered, "That's one of my favorites," accompanied a glance at the book.
"Oh. Umm, would you like me to read one of the stories? I guess you could use a bit of a distraction, by now." The indirectness was unusual, but admittedly, Kakashi wasn't at his best right now.
The sick man gave a tiny smile and a nod.
Iruka opened the book at random to a story and began reading. He laughed, recognizing a very bratty young chuunin in the main character, never seeing his own likeness to the endearing young stable boy who befriended a lonely prince. As he finished the charming story, a thin voice interrupted.
"Umino-san?"
Iruka was confused, but decided it must be the fever confusing Kakashi. "Yes, Kakashi?"
"Where's 'Ruka?"
"What?"
"Is- is Iruka here?"
Iruka looked very oddly at Kakashi and felt his forehead… maybe the fever had returned?
A small insistent voice asked, "Where is 'Ruka-chan?" The two mismatched eyes were bright, not just with fever, and there was an endearing hint of a lisp as he asked, "Can I see him, please?"
Iruka gasped, mouth opening and closing. Umino-san? 'Ruka-chan? No, it couldn't be…
"He… he's not here right now, Kakashi-kun," Iruka finally managed to choke out.
"Is he at home with his 'kaa-san? She's nice. I like 'Ruka-chan's 'kaa-san."
Iruka had a pained smile plastered to his face and his eyes were tearing up as he answered, "Yeah, he's at home with his 'k- 'kaa-san. Maybe we'll see him later."
There was a small almost frown on the serious face, the tiniest hint of a pout. "If I'm good, can I see him tomorrow?"
Iruka wanted to break down completely; seeing his lover in this state and being bombarded with memories of his dead parents overwhelmed him. "We'll see, Kakashi-kun. If you're feeling better then… then maybe he'll stop by."
Kakashi's face lit up. "I hope so, Umino-san. I've missed 'Ruka-chan so…"
"Just rest, now." He leaned down and kissed the warm forehead, ruffling the silky silver strands as he did so, fighting the building sorrow. "He misses you, too, and sends his love, okay?"
Kakashi nodded. "Tell him I miss him, please?"
"He knows, Kakashi-kun, but I'll tell him for you."
"You won't forget?"
Iruka sniffled loudly, "I won't forget." Kakashi was visibly tiring, now. Iruka poured a cup of the weak tea. "Will you drink a little of this for me, Kakashi-kun?"
Kakashi nodded slowly, already more than half-asleep. Iruka slipped two drops of the sedative Shizune had provided into the cup he held to lips he had kissed so passionately only hours ago. Kakashi took a small sip and made a face at the taste. Iruka couldn't help a very tiny smile. "Tastes awful, must mean it's good for you." Kakashi wrinkled his nose and crinkled his eyes a little more. Iruka watched, endeared by the childlike actions of the man. "Just a few more sips. Please?"
Kakashi sighed, but took a few more tiny sips. "Too sweet," Kakashi mumbled as Iruka took the cup away.
"Thank you, Kashi-kun. Just lie back and sleep now." Tired eyes fluttered shut even as Iruka pushed him gently back into the futon. Iruka placed the tenderest kisses imaginable on the closed eyelids as a single tear slid from his own eye to land on Kakashi's cheek. He huddled next to the still form, holding his hand and stroking his cheek, dark head bent low, whispering endearments.
Shortly before midnight, Tsunade appeared at the once-familiar dwelling. She walked quietly over the smooth floors, bare feet silent on the wooden planks and tatami mats, her mind still swirling with the evening's research. It had been less than enlightening.
Tsunade stepped into the narrow rectangle of dim light cast by the partially open door and studied the scene for a moment before entering. As she had thought, Iruka was kneeling at the jounin's side. What took her by surprise and caused a twist in her gut, was the chuunin's appearance. Iruka was hunched over, barely moving lips close to his lover's ear, not even stirring the silver nearby. The sable eyes looked up and Tsunade felt a bigger twist of fear.
"Iruka?"
"He called me Umino-san." The sable eyes were as flat and emotionless as the voice, their normal depths hidden behind an emptiness the Hokage's heart ached to see. Iruka continued to lightly stroke the pale hand resting on Kakashi's slowly rising and falling chest. "He called me Umino-san and asked me about Iruka and Iruka's 'Kaasan." The chuunin's voice was tight and brittle, as if one stray whisper of air would shatter his words. "He said h-he missed 'R-'Ruka-chan." The brown hands began to tremble.
A stray whisper of air, indeed.
Oh kami. As a shocked understanding swept over the Hokage she moved forward and oh so carefully pulled Iruka from the jounin's futon, dragging him an arm's length away and wrapping his shaking figure into her strong embrace. Iruka broke down, sobbing silently on her ample bosom. Tsunade looked down at the disheveled brown head, then cast a glance at the motionless silver. "Shhhhh, Iruka, we'll figure it out. I promise."
What the hell is going on with you, brat?