Let me lead off by saying this chapter is quite short. There is a pivot point just beyond it and it was the right place to break it off (I hope); when I make chapters too long things bog down and it makes for slow updates. I keep trying to improve on that but no luck so far. Your R&R-ing is much appreciated.
Chapter 9
It was far better not to have to fiddle with the gel and be careful with the mask. The mask was quite comfortable now, and sometimes when he donned it a little hint of something similar to happiness quirked in his chest. It made everything a hair more comfortable. He no longer felt like an outpatient, a sickly person slow or perhaps never to recover. He was what he was now, and his disfigurement was irrelevant to his general health.
It was liberating. He was flying through A and B rank stealth missions in record time, killing, kidnapping and stealing like a old pro. When the notice was attached to his mission scroll, acknowledging his contribution to noble Konoha society, the offer it held helped him to remember for a moment how to smile. His points accumulation had exceeded it two missions ago, but they finally got around to giving him the official document. All he had to do was sign on the dotted line, and he would officially start his jounin probation period.
Ibiki had been sniffing around, feeling him out for eventual ANBU recruitment. His mission ratings were nearly straight tens, and his reports were the flawless works of historical accuracy that one would expect from a man of his mission desk experience. Iruka had mulled it over and in the end, he decided that he was disinterested in the torture specialist's elite organization. He only assigned the required official trust to Ibiki. In his heart, he was as suspicious of the man as he was of any enemy. Given the option, he would turn down any assignment or promotion that would put him under Ibiki's command. He sometimes heard himself whisper in his head when he saw the imposing figure cast him an approving look: 'never again'.
On an unspoken level, Ibiki was fully aware of his position. Again it was apparent how unnecessary ninety-nine percent of all speech truly was. While it was no longer incumbent upon Iruka to hold silent to spare his flesh, he continued on his wordless path and found that the world could harm him far less because of it.
It was almost humorous when, perhaps twice a year, some collection of circumstances would thwart Kakashi's concerted effort to avoid crossing paths with him. The lone eye would regard the blank mask, and in the nothing that was said, oceans of emotion would flow between them. They scurried in opposite directions as quickly as possible, neither wanting any interaction with the other. In this they were seamlessly united.
When Iruka came off probation and was officially listed as special jounin, Kakashi was concerned. There was a much greater risk that they might end up assigned on a mission together, or worse, paired as a team. He filed a variance, a complaint, and a request. All centered around making sure he never had to work with one Umino Iruka again.
That, had he known about it, would have suited the new special jounin in question just fine. No overrated copy-nin made it to his list of desired teammates, either. Actually, his list was quite short.
He worked alone. Period.
Only Tsunade saw him without the mask when he came in for his examinations, or when he was injured. In his first year he had worked his way up to the top ten in earnings among the jounin, taking mission after mission without a break. He never spent his cut except for mission supplies and the bare necessities, amassing a healthy bank account and keeping the small apartment in the chunin section, shunning the jounin district entirely. He never opted for down time, and spent the amount that was forced on him in restless seclusion. That is, except for the rare visit from his favorite former student.
"Hi, Iruka-sensei," Naruto said respectfully as the door slowly opened, looking at the light blue mask with that mixture of love, pain and loneliness that his visits now inspired. He loved Iruka with all his heart, and felt for him openly the pain the man himself denied. And a sense of loss was there too, a mourning of sorts for the passing of their easy, glib, affectionate relationship. Silence and nods were some small solace. At least they were both still here, alive and caring for one another.
But as it became clear that even conversation with Naruto was considered largely extraneous by his mentor, the garrulous young man slowly fell to injured silence himself. Now their visits were things of poignant sadness and regret. Naruto couldn't bring himself to give up on seeing Iruka completely, but the infrequent visits were never instigated by the man in the mask. So if they were to continue to have a relationship, it was entirely up to him.
His visits to Iruka felt largely the same as the trips to the memorial stone to visit his last sensei, Jiraiya.
The sorrow ate a small wound in his heart, where he kept his love of his first special person pigeonholed for safekeeping, refusing to let it die no matter what.
This night, moonlit and cool after a hot, busy day, found them restless in Iruka's darkened living room.
"Walk?" Naruto asked, starting for the door. The mask nodded and they strolled out under the wincing stars.
They ambled aimlessly, ending up just outside the iron bars of the academy gate. Naruto felt his heart twist as he looked at the old, well-worn wooden entrance doors; at this, the place where they had made their noisy, rambunctious connection so many years ago.
His breath hitched, and he shook his head. There was no point in saying anything. The slight slump to Iruka's shoulders clearly showed that he was feeling it, too.
Iruka's hand went to the gate latch, but instead of tugging it open, he fondled the cast iron slowly.
This, too, said more than words. Naruto laced his arms around Iruka's waist from behind and buried his head against the tanned neck. He was half a head taller than Iruka now, but it still felt right. Iruka laid his hands on the young man's muscular forearms, patting and then giving a tentative squeeze.
The fruitless waiting for words tested the young shinobi's patience beyond its limit as their sad embrace grew awkward.
"Enough!" Naruto blurted, pushing away. "Talk to me, damn it! You can talk, there's not a damn thing wrong with your voice! I need to hear it, don't you care? I need it!"
"Naruto," the mask said, a tight choking voice. "Stop."
"No, I won't! Take off that damned mask and face me like a man! I don't care what you look like, just talk to me like I'm a person. This is killing me, I can't take it. Once I had three amazing, magical sensei. Now I have none. At least Jiraiya has an excuse, he's dead! You and Kakashi-sensei…it's crap!"
Iruka swallowed. A question nagged in his mind, but he ignored it. "I can only do what I can do," he lamented.
"Bullshit. You're not trying. You don't even try to talk to me. You just hide behind that mask and try to make me go away."
"No, Naruto, that's not true."
"It is, and you know what? I'm not letting you get away with it any more. If you want to see me, anytime, I'm here for you. I love you, Iruka-sensei, and I'll hate every minute that I'm without you. But you have to come find me next time. You have to decide to see me. If you never do…then I'll know you don't care anymore. That your big stone face act is more important to you than me. Because that's the way you make me feel now. Like I'm not worth talking to if it puts a crimp in your act."
"I didn't mean it like that, Naruto." Iruka's stunned tone reflected his shock.
"Save it. Save it until you come to see me." With that, the tearful blond spun and darted to the rooftops, leaping into the night.
Iruka's head tipped forward in pained silence. He deserved that. He hadn't been able to bring himself to make the effort needed to maintain their relationship. He sometimes thought of things he should do, but never managed to do any of them, stalled by a sense of reluctance he couldn't understand and failed to overcome. But a small question twittered in the back of his brain.
Why was Kakashi-sensei lumped in as a missing sensei?
What right did that arrogant bastard have to turn his back on Naruto, when there was not a damned thing wrong with him? Lazy, selfish, cold hearted prick.
In another time, his former life, it would have been obvious that the way to make things right would begin with following Naruto, opening his heart, and finding some way, any way, to reunite them properly. It would have been unthinkable to let Naruto suffer as he must right now, feeling rejected and alone and hurt. It would have been unbearable to be the cause of such unhappiness for one he held so dear.
But things had changed, and Iruka failed to see that side of it. He saw himself being rejected, and he saw that the reasons were valid, so there seemed to be no need to look further. There was no real argument. He deserved to be rejected. Naruto was well within his rights to walk away. He likely had walked away from Kakashi the same way. No doubt that asshole deserved it even more that Iruka. His hands tightened into fists at the mere thought.
No, he chastised himself, anger would do no good. Only work, training and meeting objectives brought him success at the end of the day. His last stronghold of human emotion had given up on him now. Now all that was left was to excel. To fully become the elite, unique shinobi of his dead parent's dreams.
Having lost all of his own, dead people's dreams were as good as any.
tbc