kakashi mission part 5-8 vkakairu

Chapter Eight
Now

"Ow."

Iruka looked up, frowning. "How can you be such a baby?"

"You're pulling my stitches," Kakashi grumbled.

"I'm not pulling your stitches. I'm not even near your stitches," Iruka said, frustrated. He lifted the ball of cotton, preparing to dab antiseptic on the slash along the back of Kakashi's arm.

"Ow."

"I haven't touched you yet!" Iruka exploded.

Kakashi flinched, and looked back over his shoulder. "Sorry."

Iruka took a deep breath. He needed to act like Kakashi was a child. That was all. Just the same way he would treat one of his students.

One of his students who was naked to the waist (with the exception of the mask). Who was very well muscled. Whose skin was crisscrossed and threaded with long, pale scars.

Iruka paused, eyes tracing the mesh of white lines. His mouth had gone dry. "You get injured often?" he asked softly.

Kakashi twisted, peering back farther, shoulders sliding under Iruka's hands. "Sometimes. Not usually badly."

Iruka nodded wordlessly. He touched a knot of flesh, twisted and gnarled, just under one shoulderblade. "How did this happen?"

Kakashi reached back with one long hand, feeling the scar for himself. "Kunai. Moved enough to keep it from getting my spine, but not quite enough to dodge entirely," he said nonchalantly.

Iruka kept staring.

"Iruka?"

"Hmm?" That scar traveled up, under Kakashi's mask. Three more scars traveled across it.

"You all right?"

"Fine," Iruka said absently. His hands slipped, sliding down the indent of Kakashi's spine. Wickedly twisted flesh wrapped around the Jounin's waist, notching over one hip, and vanishing into his pants. Iruka's fingers drifted over what he could see, feeling how the chakra was fainter there than everywhere else. The chakra pathways healed better than skin, but not perfectly. Damage them badly enough, and the person would never recover.

His mother had lain in a hospital bed, her chakra lines cut, bones and nerves shattered and torn. She had slowly faded away into nothingness.

The body under him twisted, and hands grabbed his. Iruka jumped and looked up into mismatched eyes. He blinked several times.

"Are you all right?" Kakashi asked quietly. His eyes flickered back and forth, between Iruka's own.

"Fine," Iruka said after a moment. Then he smiled sheepishly, realizing how distant he'd gotten. "I'm fine. Really. Sorry. I just--I don't--"

"You have scars, too," Kakashi said, smiling and releasing Iruka's hands to tap the bridge of his own nose.

Iruka touched his scar reflexively, then slid back on the couch. "I know. It's not that, I just--" he gestured to Kakashi. With the other man turned to watch him, he could see scars on his chest as well. "Sorry. I'm not used to so many. I mean, not since my parents--" he stopped there. "I'm just not used to it."

Kakashi watched him. "You've been on missions," he said finally. "I'm sure you have a few yourself."

Iruka felt his face turning pink. "Not so many. I haven't really done that many missions."

Kakashi turned his head away, smothering a sudden yawn, then turned back. "Why not? You're a Chunnin. You could do missions."

Iruka shook his head. "I prefer teaching. I like the kids, and I'm good at it. And I really don't like killing people."

Kakashi watched him for a moment more before nodding solemnly. "Some don't." He settled back against the couch, his energy fading. Iruka scooted closer, lifting the man's arm and dabbing antiseptic on the wound inside his elbow.

"Do you ever talk about your parents?" Kakashi asked, almost sleepily.

Iruka glanced at him. He was staring across the room, and Iruka followed his gaze.

A picture of the three of them, before their death, smiled back at him. He looked away. "Not really. Who wants to hear about that?"

Kakashi lifted his shoulders and dropped them again. "My parents died. I'd listen."

Iruka stopped and looked at Kakashi, who was staring right back at him, slouched on the couch. Something niggled in the back of his mind. Something he didn't like about that statement, that he couldn't quite place. After a moment, Iruka stood, bending over Kakashi to reach the rest of the cuts. On his neck, and the back of the man's arm, and various smaller, less dangerous ones, on his torso. He bandaged them wordlessly, then picked up his things and headed into the bathroom to put them away. By the time he came back out, Kakashi was asleep.

**
A long time ago

"I don't understand."

Sakumo sighed and shifted, gathering Kakashi's knees in one hand and pulling him more snugly into his lap.

"Is it because I joined the academy?"

There was a bare pause. Not long. But long enough.

Kakashi swallowed and stared hard at his knees. "I know Mother doesn't want me to be a ninja. I can stop. I won't be a ninja anymore."

"It's not because you joined the academy," his father said quietly.

Too late, though; the silence said everything. His mother was gone, and Kakashi knew why. He remembered them fighting. They fought about it a lot.

"It's not because of that," his father said again.

Kakashi squirmed until his father let him down. He stood in front of the man, looking up at him solemnly. "I'll quit."

"No," Sakumo said loudly.

Kakashi's eyes widened. He'd never heard his father talk to him like that.

"Kakashi . . ." Sakumo wilted, elbows on his knees. "Kakashi, something very bad has happened with your mother. She's going to live in a different place now."

"Very bad?" Kakashi asked softly. Suddenly, he wanted to cry. "Will she be okay?"

"She'll be fine," his father said, refusing to look up from his hands. "But she can't live with us anymore."

"Can I see her?" Kakashi asked.

Sakumo hesitated. "When you're older," he said finally.

Kakashi stared at him, as if he could divine the truth from what his father was saying. Finally, though, he had to concede defeat. "Promise?" he asked softly. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't do anything like that. He was strong. He was going to be a ninja.

"Promise."

**
Now

It had been bothering Iruka all day, and it wasn't until he saw Genma snap his toothpick in two--though why that triggered his memory, he had no idea--that he realized what it was.

"My parents died," Kakashi had said.

"Just wait," Genma had said, "the next thing he'll tell you is that his mother is dead."

Iruka took a deep breath as his temper rose, snarling through his blood. There had to be a reason. A misunderstanding. Maybe Genma was wrong. Maybe Kakashi had meant his father was dead, not both parents.

"Genma?" Iruka asked, deceptively calm.

Genma--who was studying his broken toothpick with a frown--grunted.

"Where's Kakashi's mother?"

The Special Jounin shrugged, fishing a senbon out of his pocket. "Not sure anymore." He flipped it through the air, catching it in his teeth before chewing on it.

"Are you certain she's alive?" Iruka asked. He nearly held his breath, waiting for the answer. If he wasn't certain, then maybe she was dead, and Kakashi hadn't misled him.

"No idea. But last I heard she was." The senbon flicked from one side of his mouth to the other, sharp and glimmering.

The rest of the day passed in a haze. Eventually, Iruka closed up and headed back to his apartment.

By that time, anger had had a chance to boil. His parents were dead. There was nothing even remotely all right about saying someone was dead when they weren't.

He opened the door, fury building to a storm, and immediately had to swallow it.

Shikamaru was sitting across from Kakashi, staring hard at a Shougi board. Kakashi was slouched back in a nest of blankets, eyes half-lidded.

"Shikamaru?" Iruka asked. "What are you doing here?"

The boy looked up and shrugged, frowning slightly. "Asuma asked me to come keep Kakashi company for a while."

"Ah." Iruka wondered how to get rid of him. Shikamaru, however, didn't need a prompt--after a moment's study, he stood.

"I should go. We can finish tomorrow," he said, and made a quick exit.

"I think he cheats," Kakashi grumbled, staring at the board. "He won three games out of five. That's just not normal. I'm good at this . . ."

Iruka stood, nearly trembling. He took a deep breath. Then another. Kakashi still hadn't noticed. "What happened to your mother?" he said at last, trying to sound as conversational as possible.

Kakashi didn't look up. "Dead."

Iruka nodded. "Oh. When?"

"Years ago."

"How?"

"On a mission. What do you think about this set-up he has going?" Kakashi asked, poking at pieces.

Iruka still hadn't come entirely into the room.

Kakashi finally looked up.

"Genma seems to think she was alive fairly recently."

Kakashi just watched him.

Slowly, Iruka took off his shoes and entered the room. He didn't look at Kakashi. He wasn't sure if he could. "Is she dead or not?"

There was a long moment of silence. Iruka prayed she was dead. That it was a misunderstanding. Anything.

"No," Kakashi said finally. "She's not."

Anger and hurt rose like a tsunami, swamping Iruka. She wasn't dead. Kakashi had lied to him, and for no reason he could see. The man had made something so important nothing more than--than--

"Why would you say that she was dead?" Iruka nearly yelled, furious. "Is this your twisted way of trying to make friends? To say something I might relate to?"

Kakashi's eyes closed, a smile under his mask, and he shrugged nonchalantly. "She's dead to me."

"Dead to you and dead aren't the same thing!" Iruka shouted. "Dead to you means you were angry and glad she's gone, but if you ever decide you still love her you can go see her!" Something twisted in his stomach, something black and yawning. "I can't! My mother is dead, no matter what I wish!" It was then that he realized how much it hurt. To use something like that, to make everything he'd dealt with nothing more than a device to get close--

Iruka whipped away, stalked to the kitchen, turned, stalked back. Kakashi was staring hard at his hands. The smile had been wiped from his face.

"I'm sorry," Kakashi said quietly. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Iruka glared at him. "You asked me what I wanted, in order to date you. I want truth. Where is your mother?" he ground out finally.

Kakashi was silent for a long time. When he spoke, he didn't look up. "In another country. Being held for trading vital information to one of our enemies."

He felt like the room had dropped out from underneath him. Iruka stared. "What?"

Kakashi still didn't look up. "She hated being a ninja. When my father enrolled me, she was going to take me and run. In trade for sanctuary, she traded information on our village. My father found out. He stopped her. I learned about it when I was older."

He was very wooden. Iruka, hands braced on his hips, glared at the far wall. Then he glared at Kakashi. Then the wall.

He stood, silent.

"I understand," Iruka said finally, still angry but trying to be reasonable, "why you might tell someone your mother was dead if they asked. But why volunteer that information? Why lie?"

Kakashi didn't squirm. "You looked like you wanted to talk. I thought maybe . . . maybe if you wanted to talk, you'd talk to me."

"Kakashi--" Iruka said loudly. He heard his own voice and stopped dead, took a deep breath, and tried again. "Kakashi, if I wanted to talk to you, I would. I would talk to you if I felt I knew you, and trusted you. But I don't!" His voice was rising again, and this time he couldn't bring himself to care. "You lie about nearly everything from what I can tell, and I'm not sure I even know you!"

Kakashi sank further into the couch. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry!" Iruka yelled. "Tell me the damn truth!"

Kakashi stared at his hands. "I did."

"After I caught you in a lie!"

He glared even harder at his hands. "I'm sorry."

Iruka opened his mouth to shout something else, but nothing came to mind. Instead, he stormed into his bedroom and slammed the door.

It felt so good, he slammed it again, just for good measure.

**

He rolled over on his futon, staring at the bedside clock.

Three thirty.

With a frustrated sigh, he swung his legs over the side and stood, shuffling out of his bedroom in nothing more than drawstring pants. A glance at the couch showed Kakashi, sprawled out in black ninja basics, a vague shape in the dark.

Iruka stared for a moment. The man's eyes were closed, but his breathing was fast. Awake.

Iruka walked into the kitchen, got a glass of water, and walked back out into the living room. He stood in front of the table with the game of Shougi still laid out, and watched the man pretend to sleep.

"I loved my parents very much," he said into the silence.

An eye fluttered open, but Kakashi didn't otherwise move.

"When they died, I was--" he couldn't even begin to explain that hurt. That sense of utter despair. Of loneliness. The void that opened up, that not even the village could fill. The anger at being left alone, and the guilt at being angry. The firm belief that, had he been there, he could have done something. That he should have died too.

He realized he was holding his glass tight enough to make his hand sore, and forcefully relaxed. "It hurt," he said finally. "More than anything else ever has. And it never stopped."

One eye glowed dully red in the dark, almost invisible.

"I reacted more than I should have. But when you lied about that--" he stopped again. He was shaking.

Kakashi sat up slowly. Blankets slid as he shifted, moving over on the couch. The sound of fabric against fabric whispered through the air.

If he apologized again, Iruka might kill him. Apologies meant nothing.

"I don't remember much of my mother," Kakashi said quietly. "And I wasn't close to my fa--" he stopped dead. His head dipped, a silhouette against the window. It came back up a moment later. "I was angry at my father. I didn't mean disrespect towards you, or what you've gone through."

Iruka's eyes were burning. He nodded sharply, hoping Kakashi couldn't see how wet they were. It was too much for a single day. Too much anger, and remembered grief.

"I never changed your bandages," Iruka said after a moment, when he was sure he could talk.

"It's all right," Kakashi answered simply.

Iruka set down his glass of water and picked up the supplies, shifting over to the couch. He sat down in the vacated spot, settling things in his first aid box while Kakashi pulled off his shirt. Slowly, the anger was draining out of him, replaced by exhaustion and weariness.

He untaped the worst of the injuries, a stitched gash near Kakashi's spine, and swished alcohol onto a pad.

They sat in silence for a long time. The sting of alcohol drifted between them, quickly dispersing, leaving only the way Kakashi smelled. Clean, and warm, and vaguely of sun. Then Iruka spilled more alcohol onto a pad, and the sting was back between them.

"This is bleeding," Iruka said, watching the gauze turn pink.

"I ripped the stitches earlier."

Iruka didn't respond, only checked it before putting a new cloth on top and taping it over once more. The silence stretched between them, bordering on uncomfortable. All Iruka could think of were his parents dying. Not much else would come to mind. But--he could work with that. "How old were you, when your father died?" he asked into the silence.

Kakashi 'hmm'ed. "Eight," he said finally, and said nothing more.

"That must have been hard."

Kakashi's hand tightened on the edge of the couch. Underneath his fingers, Iruka felt the man's muscles tense.

"Not really," Kakashi said. "It was his choice." The hands relaxed after a moment, but the tension didn't ease.

"Just because it's his choice, doesn't mean it doesn't hurt." Iruka re-bandaged Kakashi's arm, then let his hands travel across the man's shoulders to the other side. Quietly, he dug his fingers into heavy muscle, hitting pressure points. The knots gave way, and some of the tension drained off.

"Whoa," Kakashi said quietly.

Iruka grinned, where Kakashi couldn't see. "Where did you live, afterwards?"

Kakashi shrugged, gracefully. "The Fourth let me stay with him for a while. Before he was the Fourth."

Iruka nodded, checking the deep cut under Kakashi's arm.

"Five years later, I moved into the Jounin bachelor apartments, and just stayed."

Iruka's mind sped, thinking. Five years. "You were thirteen?"

Kakashi 'hmm'ed again. "What about you? Where did you live, after your parents died?"

Iruka flinched from the memories, then took a deep breath. It wasn't fair to ask Kakashi, and expect to not be asked in return. "In a foster home, for a while. Eventually, in my own apartment that the village paid for." He remembered being lonely, and feeling lost.

Mostly, that had gone away.

His hands fell to his knees, looking at the broad expanse of Kakashi's back. In the dark, he couldn't see the scars; only a lot of pale skin. "I should let you go back to bed. You need to sleep."

"I'm feeling better," Kakashi said, twisting to look back. The expanse of his skin was broken by the mask, black and inky. Silver hair sprouted above it, half of it crushed and the other half sticking up.

"I know. You'll probably be well enough to go home in a day or two. But right now, sleep."

Kakashi sighed and looked like he might protest, but Iruka could read the exhaustion radiating from him. He stood and got his glass of water again, heading toward the bedroom before Kakashi could argue.

*********

Part Five
Then (as in, shortly after the water fight)

There was something very wrong with him. He was sure of it. He was sick. The children at the lake had gotten him sick. It was the only explanation for how he was feeling, because damn it, he couldn't be feeling anything else.

He certainly couldn't be obsessing over Iruka.

"Kakashi?"

Kakashi jumped, flattening himself against the fence.

"Are you all right?" Gai asked hesitantly. "You look a little . . . ill."

"Ill," Kakashi said, trying to smile and failing badly. "Yes. I think I'm ill."

Gai reached out to put a big hand on Kakashi's forehead. Kakashi didn't pull back, but only by force of will. He wondered if Gai could feel a fever through the forehead protector.

Gai pulled his hand back and looked puzzled. "What's wrong?"

Kakashi took several deep breaths. Then several more. He tried to smile again, and once more failed. He didn't like this feeling. He'd never felt it before--or at least, not since he'd been a teenager. "I don't know," he said.

Gai frowned. Whenever Gai frowned, it gave Kakashi the sense that something was very wrong with the world. That something terrible and monstrous must have happened, because Gai never frowned. "Describe it."

He wasn't sure he wanted to describe it. He wanted it to go away. It wasn't comfortable, and it was dangerous. But he didn't know how to make it go away, beyond waiting, and he didn't have that much time. He was distracted. Distracted ninja got killed. "I can't get Iruka off my mind."

"Iruka? My beloved students' former sensei? Umino Iruka-san?"

"Of course Umino Iruka. He's the only Iruka in the village," Kakashi said, the words lazy despite his frustration.

Gai was looking at him thoughtfully.

Kakashi waited.

"Maybe it's just a phase."

"It's not a phase!" Desperation bloomed. It wasn't going to go away, he knew that much. "Gai--" He looked around and dropped his voice to a whisper. "I let him into my apartment."

Gai stared.

"I know," Kakashi said, mentally berating himself. He never let people into his apartment. It wasn't good. It was his.

Gai started to smile.

Kakashi cringed.

"It is the springtime of your youth, Kakashi! You've finally found someone your heart can beat for!"

If Kakashi hadn't been certain it was noon, he would have sworn the sun was setting over Gai, who was still waxing poetic. Kakashi sighed. "Gai, really."

"It is wonderful that you've finally found another young person--"

"Gai."

"—who you respect and admire and want to spend your time with--"

"Gai."

"--who can make your heart race, and we all know and love Iruka-san--"

"Gai."

"--this is wonderful, Kakashi! Congratulations!"

Kakashi debated just walking away. Then Gai grabbed him and hugged him. That was it. He sucker-punched the other Jounin.

**
Several years earlier…

The Third Hokage looked up from his desk at the young man hovering in the doorway. He smiled and set down his pen, resting on his elbows.

The silver haired teenager, all arms and legs and long, lean muscle, twirled a flower and stared at his boots.

"Kakashi? Did you bring me a flower?" He already knew the answer to that one, but he couldn't help asking--laughingly--anyway. "I'm a little old for you . . ."

Kakashi turned pink above his mask and somehow managed to lounge his way inside the room, until he was leaning against the desk. He offered the flower.

The Third took it wordlessly, looking it over. A daisy.

"Is there something wrong with it?" Kakashi asked quietly.

The Third studied it carefully, treating the question as seriously as it had been asked.

He wished the Fourth hadn't died so suddenly. He had the feeling that this was going to be a conversation better suited for Kakashi to have with a man closer to his own age--but as far as the Third knew, Kakashi didn't talk much with boys his own age. Or maybe boys his own age didn't talk to him. Either way, since the Fourth had died so terribly, Kakashi didn't seem to talk much with anyone.

It worried the Third that a sixteen-year-old spoke mostly with a man in his late fifties. And even they didn't speak that much.

He returned his attention to the flower, examining it closely. "There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it," he said finally, handing it back.

Kakashi took it forlornly. "Oh."

The Third waited, but when the boy didn't continue--only kept staring morosely at his flower--asked, "Is there a reason you thought there might be something wrong with it?"

Kakashi looked at him sidelong, then looked back down at the flower. "I tried to give it to this girl. She just walked faster."

The Third cringed inwardly.

"So I thought maybe there was something wrong with it." He sounded like he hoped there was something wrong with it, but really knew otherwise.

The Third sighed. "Women are mysterious, Kakashi," he said slowly.

Kakashi shook his head. "It's not just them, though. I don't--I don't understand them. Any of them." His face flushed, and he adjusted the forehead protector he had taken to wearing over Obito's Sharingan. His flak jacket seemed big on his small frame, though he'd finally grown large enough to fit into his shirt. "I didn't understand them when I was little, though I knew that they didn't like me because of my father. But now people don't look at me and see what my father did, and they still don't like me." He twisted his fingers, nails piercing the stem. "I don't know how to fix it."

The Hokage cringed. "Kakashi . . ." He had no idea how to say this. "You are somewhat outside the bounds of normal people."

Kakashi looked up at him.

"You're a genius."

Kakashi gave him a look that clearly said, "Well, I know that."

The Third smiled slightly. "Before, you were too far ahead of others your age to relate to them very well. Now," with Obito gone, he didn't say, "the people you work with are adults." Who may respect and even fear you, but don't want to associate with a teenager, he didn't say. "You're in an awkward place, and it might take time to figure out how to make things work."

Kakashi plucked a petal and let it drop onto the desk. Two more followed. He arranged them into a careful triangle. "So what now?"

"Maybe you should find the places the other boys and girls your age go to, and start joining them," the Hokage suggested.

He pushed the petals around into an arrow. "They don't like me."

They're afraid of you, the Hokage didn't say. They understood him as little as he understood them. Too young, too adult, too powerful, too much of a skipped youth. "They just have to learn. Like you."

"Yeah," Kakashi said, though he didn't sound convinced. He looked at the mangled flower, then smiled behind his mask and handed it to the Hokage. "For you."

"Why, thank you," the Third said with a chuckle. He took the broken and bare flower, and set it carefully to one side. "I'll treasure it." It stuck up jauntily, refusing to wilt despite its treatment.

Kakashi grinned, both hands in his pockets, and meandered out of the office.

**
Then (that is, after Gai was waxing poetic)

"I can't ask him to dinner," Kakashi said, his head in his hands.

"Why not?" Gai asked between sips of sake.

Kakashi sat back, rolling his teacup between his palms. He didn’t say that he'd never been to dinner with anyone. The two people he'd asked had either ignored him or said no, and while two people wasn't a bad rejection list, the fact that he'd never managed to successfully do anything with anyone was telling.

But Gai didn't need to know that much. It wasn't something Kakashi liked about himself, and it wasn't something he wanted others to know. Somehow, over the last few years, people had started to think he was 'cool.' He was pretty sure 'cool' people didn't struggle with relating as much as he did. But--being cool was good. People looked at him with awe instead of uncertainty.

He wasn't about to ruin the lie by admitting he didn't know how to date. Besides, the few friends Kakashi had made hadn't turned out so well (his mind shied around Obito, twisted around the Fourth, and he tried hard not to think about his Chuunin team, scattered and maybe in danger). The whole thing was just a bad idea, and entirely confused in his mind. "I can't go to dinner with people," he said finally, latching onto the last thought as the easiest to explain. "What if he gets hurt?"

"At dinner? I suppose you shouldn't serve something that will make him sick . . ."

"That's not what I meant," Kakashi muttered.

"Oh. Well, you said he felt you following him and set a trap. Obviously, he can take care of himself."

Kakashi looked up. He mulled the thought over, replaying the trap and remembering other times when he'd seen Iruka fight. "That's right," he said slowly. "He's a Chuunin. Obviously a good one. He can take care of himself. I don't have to worry about that. Right?" He looked at Gai hopefully, mentally begging the man to agree. He didn't need more nightmares. He didn't want Iruka in danger.

"Right," Gai said firmly, and ordered another bottle.

"Right," Kakashi repeated in an undertone. He wouldn't kill Iruka. Iruka could take care of himself. Iruka had been taking care of himself for twenty-three years. It was perfect. He had experience.

All Kakashi had to do was ask him to dinner.

No one had ever agreed to dinner before. He had learned that if he asked people things, they said no, and Iruka hadn't asked him to dinner, so Kakashi didn't have the chance to simply say yes. This would never work. "What if he doesn’t like me?"

"Iruka is obsessed with you," Gai said. "His heartbeat triples whenever you're near!"

"Really?" Kakashi asked hopefully.

Gai nodded.

If that was true, then--Kakashi frowned and looked at Gai suspiciously. "How do you know that?"

"Oh, well, I can tell," Gai said airily.

There went that source of information. Kakashi looked around the little area, glancing over tables and booths with a practiced eye. There were only a few other people in the establishment, mostly off-duty ninja, and the waitress. "I can't ask him out," he said softly.

"Why not?"

Kakashi didn't fidget, but it took effort. Very purposefully, he relaxed back into his seat and looked as indolent as possible. "I don't know how." He didn't look at Gai.

"Just say," Gai's voice suddenly gained in volume, "'Beloved Iruka--'"

Kakashi's eyes widened, though he remained carefully still.

Gai didn't seem to notice. "'Beloved Iruka, please join me in a celebration of my love for you! At dinner!'"

Kakashi tried to sink farther into the chair. He smiled weakly at the other patrons, who were now staring at them. "Thank you, Gai," he muttered. "I'll do just that."

**

Iruka pretended not to notice Kakashi walk past the office door for the fourth time in ten minutes.

"Any idea what he's doing?" Genma asked quietly, digging through scrolls.

"None." Iruka glanced over and frowned. "Are you supposed to be looking at those? Put them down," he said, taking the scrolls away from the Special Jounin. He set them down on his other side and went back to filing mission reports.

"Isn't Kakashi supposed to be on a mission?" Genma asked, flopping down in a chair.

"He got back yesterday," Iruka muttered, sorting papers.

"Really? Is his mission report around? Those are always fun to read . . ."

Iruka took the stack of reports from Genma with a frown, and set them aside. "Those are not for your amusement."

Genman sighed. His toothpick flicked from one side of his mouth to the other.

Iruka ignored him, returning to his filing. Asuma's report went under 'C' for completed, and Raidou's needed to go into the pile for the Hokage to see, since there were injuries.

"I'm off. Do you need anything done?" Genma asked, standing.

"No, I'm fine."

Genma jumped over the desk and wandered out. Less than a second went by before Kakashi walked in.

"I don't have any missions for you," Iruka said, putting the ANBU scrolls into a drawer and locking it as subtly as possible. "The Hokage has some she hasn't handed out yet . . ."

"I know. No missions for me. No fun ones, anyway."

Iruka watched the man carefully. Something was off. His hands were in his pockets, but his arms seemed tense. He was smiling, but it looked forced--even with only one eye visible. "What's wrong?" Iruka asked finally.

Kakashi paced, then finally settled in front of the desk. He was still wearing that stiff smile. "I just--that is, I had a question--well, more of a suggestion--"

"What is it?" Iruka asked. His anxiety levels were steadily rising. Something was going on.

"I'm having dinner on Friday--well, of course, I have dinner every night because skipping meals just isn't healthy, and--"

Iruka rubbed his scar tiredly. "Kakashi, what's wrong?"

Kakashi's smile got more strained. "Did you want to have dinner with me?"

Iruka froze. He looked up. He studied Kakashi. The man was sweating now, and the smile was still fixed in place. "I'm sorry?"

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" Kakashi said. Even his voice sounded tense.

He was serious. This wasn't good. Iruka knew something like this was going to happen. He'd known it from that day on the porch, and the discussion about Gai's theories of crushes. "Kakashi-san . . ." Iruka said slowly, straightening a pile of scrolls, "this isn't--"

"We can have food. I mean, of course there will be food. Or--"

"Kakashi-san--"

"Don't call me that." The smile was gone. So was the tension in his shoulders, though Iruka suddenly wished it were back. The man stared at the ground, slouched back, his hands in his pockets. He seemed deflated. "I'm sorry," he said, glancing up and smiling half-heartedly. "Bad idea." He turned and started toward the door.

"Kakashi, I'm flattered," Iruka said, watching the man freeze. "And I'd love to be friends. But--"

Kakashi turned, looking back over his shoulder. "Will you come for a friendly, ah, something, then?" he asked, sounding only marginally hopeful.

Iruka nodded, glad to have something he could offer the Jounin. "Of course."

Kakashi turned farther, almost facing him. "Tomorrow?"

Iruka hesitated, mentally reviewing his schedule. "I could meet you around lunch."

A nod, and the smile was back--relaxed, this time. "Lunch, then. I'll meet you here."

Iruka smiled. "Don't be late."

**
A long time ago . . .

Rin found him. She sat down beside him, in the puddle in front of the monument.

It kept raining. Kakashi shivered, soaked through.

They sat.

"I'm leaving."

Kakashi didn’t look at her. "You already said that."

She ducked her head, staring at the ground. "You have no right to be angry with me about this," she said finally.

"I'm not."

"Bullshit."

Kakashi's head snapped around, and he glared at her. "Do you expect me to be happy that you're heading to the country of the Sand?" he asked quietly.

"Why not? You've been in ANBU now for two years. I don't want to do that. Maybe there I can work on my medical techniques and--"

"You could do that here," Kakashi said.

Rin was quiet.

"Is this because I asked you out?" he asked, staring at his hands.

"No," Rin sighed. "It's been coming, anyway."

They sat, silent. Rain pattered down. Distantly, thunder rolled.

"It's not the end of the world, Kakashi," Rin said. "You'll make other friends. There'll be other girls."

Kakashi's gaze burned, but he didn't turn it on her. "When do you leave?" he asked, finally.

"A few days. There's a group going."

Kakashi just nodded.

They sat. Rin shivered, as water soaked slowly through her clothing. "You will make other friends, you know," she murmured.

Kakashi said nothing. Except for Rin, the people he'd loved were all dead. Not that there had been many of them. Maybe she was right. Maybe he would make more friends.

He doubted it.

**
Back to 'Then' and lunchtime . . .

Kakashi stared around his apartment. The bed was made. His toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash and floss were all put away, as were all his shaving things. He poked his head inside the bathroom just to double check, grabbed the shampoo off the edge of the shower, and stuffed it under the sink.

He came back out and stood in the middle of the tiny apartment. The box of books had a blanket tossed over it. The bed was made. He'd taken the pictures down, and put them in a drawer, then put them back out--it seemed disrespectful to put pictures of fallen teammates in a drawer--and on the shelf, but behind the window curtain.

The apartment was clean. It was always clean, though. He spent as little time there as possible.

All he had to do was go get Iruka. He looked at the bedside clock. Ten minutes. Kakashi picked the clock up off the nightstand, started to put it in a drawer, then realized he was probably being neurotic. He put it back in its normal place. He stood, debating, then finally pulled the photos from behind the curtain and put them back on the shelf. He was trying to be social. Social people shared personal facts, like friends and family. He wanted Iruka to be his friend. He hadn't realized how lonely he was until Iruka started talking to him. Rin had always said he didn't share things, so he would share this, and then--

Then they would be friends. And Iruka wouldn't leave.

Right. Time to go. He slipped into sandals, and headed out. He could be at the office in eight minutes and thirty-three seconds.

But did Iruka really need to know so many personal facts about him? He felt exposed. His apartment was private, and--

Kakashi gave in, and raced back to the apartment to hide the pictures.

**

Iruka looked up just in time to see Kakashi fly from a rooftop and land beside him, smiling brightly.

"Hi," Iruka said.

The other ninja grinned, his single visible eye squinting shut. "Hi."

Iruka watched him. "You look flushed. Did you run?" he asked, vaguely surprised. Kakashi ran for no one, from what Iruka could tell.

"Hmm. Shall we get lunch?" Kakashi asked.

Iruka thought about asking again, but . . . well, obviously Kakashi was uncomfortable. He left it alone. Besides, it wouldn't be good to appear too interested. Kakashi might think he was that kind of interested.

They wandered down the street, Kakashi with his hands in his pockets, Iruka smiling at people as they passed.

"School starts again soon, doesn't it?" Kakashi asked suddenly.

Iruka nodded, trying to appear relaxed. It was hard, with Kakashi tense. And despite how he was trying to appear, Iruka could feel the tension. "In another month."

"You'll be teaching again?"

Iruka nodded and smiled. "Will you be taking on another Genin team?"

Kakashi shrugged. "Tsunade hasn't asked me to."

Iruka didn't know what to say to that, so he remained silent. "Where are we going?" he asked after a little while.

"My apartment. I didn't know when you had to be back, so it's close and I have food . . ." Kakashi trailed off.

Iruka stared at him for a moment. His apartment? Iruka didn't think people were allowed in there. He wondered how this was really going to work. Maybe they'd eat on the porch again.

Maybe this was Kakashi's way of showing affection.

Iruka stopped walking. "Kakashi," he said slowly, "I'm really not interested in you. That way." The words were out before he even realized what he was saying. He cringed internally, and hoped he hadn't just made an ass out of himself.

Kakashi froze. "I know," he said finally. He looked at the ground, hands still in his pockets, then looked up and smiled. "But, we're friends, right? And friends hang out in each others' apartments?"

Iruka hesitated. "If you're not comfortable with it . . ." He had agreed to friends. Heck, being friends with Kakashi was supposed to be his mission anyway.

"I'm comfortable with it," Kakashi said. "And I cleaned."

Iruka wasn't sure it had been dirty in the first place, if his initial peek inside had been any indication.

They stood there for a moment. Kakashi looked back at the ground again, studiously examining his shoes. "If I'm not doing it right . . ."

Iruka frowned. "Doing it right? Doing what right?"

There was a pause, then Kakashi looked up, smiling brightly. Iruka was starting to realize that the bright smile was to hide embarrassment, rather than for any real joy. It made him wince. "Being friends right. If I'm making you uncomfortable--"

Iruka mentally flinched. "You're doing fine," he said quickly. "I'm just--I just need you to know that it's not going to go farther than that. And part of being friends is knowing each other's boundaries, so if one of yours is not having people in your apartment, that's okay." He was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that they were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, at lunch hour. He tried to ignore the funny looks shot their way. Think teacher, he told himself. A teacher teaching something. That's all.

Not being friends right . . ? No wonder Tsunade had been worried about Kakashi.

"I could have you in my apartment," Kakashi said at last. "That would be okay."

Iruka nodded slowly. "All right. If you're sure."

Kakashi nodded. "Of course. Hurry, or we'll waste you entire lunch break." Then he turned and wandered down the street.

Iruka set aside his concerns and followed.

**

"We had lunch," Kakashi said, sitting in the window to Gai's apartment, one leg propped up, the other dangling outside.

"Wonderful!"

"And we even went into my apartment again," Kakashi said. He still wasn't sure about that; it felt strange to have someone else in his personal space. Still, he was trying to be friendly. He was making a friend. Only seven years since he'd lost the last one, since Rin had gone to the Sand, and he was making a friend.

At least Iruka wasn't like Gai. He didn't fill the space with his own presence.

"Kakashi! You're in love!"

Kakashi didn't look at Gai, because he might have to hit the man. He continued to stare blandly out the window, at the people walking around below. "He doesn't want to be more than friends," he said. Damn it.

"You must not take no for an answer! This is true love! You must pursue him! He will feel it, too!"

Kakashi looked at Gai thoughtfully. "Does that work?"

"I have had many loves, and all of them started out by saying no! Be persistent!"

Kakashi stared back out the window.

"Would you like tea?"

Kakashi glanced over. Having tea meant going all the way into Gai's apartment. Gai's apartment was filthy. He smiled and declined.

'Don't take no for an answer,' Gai had said. Gai certainly had more experience than Kakashi did. Maybe that would work.

*********

Part Six
Then (But getting closer and closer to 'Now.')

"Gai!" Kakashi jumped into Gai's window and hung on, leaning in without actually stepping inside. He glanced down and was suddenly glad for not going inside; a pile of dishes sat below the window, unwashed.

Gai appeared in the kitchen doorway, a bowl full of toast in one hand.

For a long moment Kakashi considered bringing the man vegetables. Then he wondered how, exactly, Gai managed to stay so healthy. Maybe he had a demon, too. Kakashi dragged his mind back to the reason for the visit. "I'm having dinner with Iruka tomorrow night. But I don't know what to wear."

It had been a week since they'd had lunch, though Kakashi had spent most of that time on missions. He'd only seen Iruka briefly.

Gai finished chewing, swallowed, and smiled. "Wear something other than your uniform."

And the real problem was addressed. Kakashi smiled weakly. "I don't have anything other than my uniform."

Gai frowned. "Normal clothing?"

Kakashi shook his head. He never went out; he never had reasons for other clothing. Besides, it was so much easier to just have several uniforms. They always matched.

"Oh." Gai thought about it, folding a piece of toast in half and eating the whole thing at once. One cheek bulged as he chewed. Then he swallowed, and, looking up, smiled brightly. "Ah, my most esteemed rival, and dear acquaintance who has finally fallen in love! I have the perfect thing! Wait here!"

Kakashi waited while Gai disappeared into his bedroom.

"Ah ha!" Gai said, whipping back into the main room, a long, green suit flourished in one hand.

Kakashi looked at it blandly. "I don't think so."

"It will increase your stamina!" Gai shoved the giant longjohns toward Kakashi.

Kakashi pulled away from them, and nearly fell out the window. "Thank you, Gai, but that's not for me."

"It will drive him wild!"

Kakashi was not impressed. "Maybe I'll ask Asuma." Surely Asuma had clothes. While Kakashi didn't want too many people to know what he was doing--it made him uncomfortable--Asuma would be all right. He respected and liked Asuma.

Gai's smile faltered. "Oh. Well, I suppose if you think that's best . . ."

Kakashi nodded and smiled. "I do."

Ten minutes later Kakashi stood in Asuma's thankfully clean apartment. Somehow, Gai had tagged along, which Kakashi wasn't too happy with, but since Gai already knew . . . The Jounin boomed about true love while Asuma chewed on a cigarette and looked at Kakashi oddly.

Kakashi smiled. "I just need clothing," he said, feeling himself turn bright red. Being him, Gai continued waxing poetic. Kakashi kept grinning cheerfully to hide his embarrassment, closing his eye so he didn't have to see Asuma's half-bemused look.

"I don't think I have anything that would fit you," Asuma said, when Gai finally let him get a word in edgewise. "But maybe Genma . . ."

At that, Kakashi thought maybe his uniform would do. Since he really didn't want the whole village knowing, and since Genma worked with Iruka and that would be just a little embarrassing . . .

But by the time Kakashi had voiced this, Gai had already taken off. A half-desperate look at Asuma had the other Jounin racing after Gai, and five minutes after that Gai and Kakashi were standing outside the mission office while Asuma spoke with Genma.

Kakashi tried to look at the bright side. He supposed this meant he'd have clothes, which was good. It also meant three people knew what was going on, and if dinner didn't work out that was three people he was going to have to explain to.

Finally, Genma looked out the window and grinned around his toothpick.

Another ten minutes after that found them in Genma's apartment. "Did Raidou have to be here?" Kakashi asked. "Or Kurenai? Doesn't everybody have missions?"

"Slow week," Kurenai said, poking through the pile of shirts Genma had put on the bed. "Besides, none of us have ever heard of you having a date before."

"It's not a date," Kakashi muttered, leaning back against a wall, his hands in his pockets. "Just dinner." He didn't add that if he'd wanted them to know, he would have told them. He liked, even respected, Asuma, and Kurenai had always been very nice, but he wasn't sure he wanted them dressing him. Or knowing this much about his life. Or poking around his--"Leave my jacket alone," he said quietly, pinning Genma with a half-lidded glare as the man tried to pull it off.

"You can't try on clothes over it," Genma muttered, looking put-upon.

Kakashi hesitated, then finally shrugged out of his jacket.

**

Iruka yawned, covering his mouth with the back of a hand and packing up his things. Genma was nowhere around. Hadn't been around for a few days, actually, and even when he was there he was . . . odd.

Iruka walked out of the office, turning to lock the door behind him. He paused; there was a noise, off toward--

Pain lanced through the back of his head. Iruka dropped.

**
Now

"I cannot believe you kidnapped me so you could make me dinner!" Iruka yelled. "You just don't do things like that!"

"Well, if you had said 'yes' when I asked you--"

Iruka stared disbelievingly. "Kakashi! I knew you were insane but I didn't think you were that insane!"

Kakashi looked vaguely disgruntled. "I'm not that insane. I made dinner."

"But I don't want to date you!" Iruka bellowed. In his hands, the chopstick he hadn't thrown broke.

"But why not?" Kakashi asked, still calm if frowning slightly. "Gai says I'm attractive, and you and I have been doing things--"

"That has nothing to do with it!" Iruka yelled.

"--and I made dinner, and got new clothes, and look!" Kakashi brightened suddenly, leaping past Iruka to the futon and pointing at the shelf there. "I left my pictures up!"

Iruka took a deep breath and did his best to leash his temper. "It was very nice of you to leave your pictures up," he said finally, as calmly as he could manage. "But it is not appropriate to kidnap someone--" he stopped, realizing his voice was rising again. He took another breath and lowered it. "It is not appropriate to kidnap someone and force them to have dinner with you." He spoke carefully, like he was talking to one of his students.

Kakashi was looking mutinous. "I didn't know how else to get you here."

"Ask!"

"You said no," Kakashi pointed out.

Iruka closed his eyes and rubbed his scar.

"Wine?" Kakashi asked. "Or sake?"

"Yes. Sake. No. I mean--" Iruka opened his eyes and turned; Kakashi had gotten past him and was standing at the little table, pouring sake. He had no idea where to go from here, except that he really should leave. Iruka couldn't even say he was angry anymore; his head hurt too much, and he was thoroughly confused and couldn't keep up with Kakashi's logic. "Where did this table come from?" he asked finally.

"Asuma's," Kakashi said simply, holding out a small cup.

Iruka took it, but refused to sit down. Kakashi stood as well, one hand in the pocket of his black slacks. He did look nice, Iruka had to admit. The slacks fell well, hugging his slim hips. He was wearing a silver shirt, the silk sliding over his narrow shoulders, outlining defined muscles and hinting at more.

"You look nice," Iruka said grudgingly.

Kakashi looked down, as if he'd forgotten what he was wearing. Then he smiled behind the mask. "Genma and Raidou's, actually."

Iruka gave a half desperate laugh and shook his head in tired defeat. "Kakashi . . ."

"Please sit."

"You can't kidnap someone to make them date you."

Kakashi stared at the floor. "All right. But, since I made the food . . ."

Iruka tried to glare, but his head was hurting too much. He sipped sake instead, and finally sat. "I just want you to know, this doesn't make this behavior acceptable."

"All right," Kakashi said, sinking to the ground.

"And if you do it again, I--" he couldn't think of a threat. His normally creative mind was still whimpering about having pressure points hit. "I don't know what I'll do, but it'll be bad."

"All right," Kakashi said simply. He dished food onto a plate, and handed it to Iruka.

Iruka looked at it suspiciously. There was nothing that he recognized. He sipped sake. "Are you sure about this stuff?"

Kakashi smiled behind the mask. "Of course. Try it."

"I should go home," Iruka said, exhaustion and headache catching up with him. The rest of his anger was gone, and it took him a moment to realize he'd been drinking sake a bit too quickly.

"I'll take you home later, but right now you should eat." Kakashi put another dollop of strange looking food on his plate.

Iruka finally put his sake down and picked up chopsticks, poking at his meal. He took a careful bite and chewed slowly. Then he nodded, taking another bite. "It is good," he said, his mouth full.

Kakashi smiled, and relaxed suddenly. Until then, Iruka hadn't realized he'd been tense. "What did you do to my head?" he asked, trying another lump of food. He thought it might be some sort of vegetable.

"Just hit a nerve cluster. It should feel better soon. Try this." He put some sort of bread on Iruka's plate.

Iruka took bite. "Mmm," he said, taking another. Suddenly, he was starving.

Kakashi smiled and sat back, leaning on his hands.

"You're not eating?" Iruka asked, glancing up.

Kakashi smiled sheepishly. "I ate while I was cooking, and by the time I was done . . ."

"Oh. No--wait," Iruka said, realizing suddenly that he was playing right into Kakashi's hands. "Kakashi--I am not going to date you."

Kakashi eyed him. "Why not?"

"What do you mean, 'why not'?" Iruka said. He thought it was obvious, personally. He wasn't interested.

"I mean, why not? Why won't you date me? If you're not interested in men, then--well, have you tried?"

Iruka stared. "This isn't a matter of whether or not I'm interested in men," he said finally. "It's--" he stopped. Frowned. Thought. "Because--" stopped again. None of his reasons, which, frankly, weren't coming to him anyway, would stand up to Kakashi's logic. "There are problems here!" he said finally.

Kakashi frowned. "Are you interested in men?"

Iruka stared some more. "No!"

"Are you sure?"

Iruka started to snarl something, his temper finally rising above the exhaustion and headache, when he realized he wasn't, actually, sure. He'd never thought about it. He didn't date, really. There had been a few girls in school, but not many. He somehow always got stuck in the 'like a brother to me' role. But he didn't look at men, either, beyond things like wishing Genma would spit that damn toothpick out, because he was going to stab himself in the throat with it one day, and besides it was really suggestive and Iruka didn't need that--

Oh, crap.

Iruka looked up.

Kakashi was smiling slightly.

It didn't mean anything. Things in mouths were suggestive, and that's just the way it was. It wasn't like he was going around lusting after men, and he'd certainly never done--well, all right, that once with Mizuki, but they'd been into Mizuki's father's sake and couldn't really be held responsible for their actions.

Really.

Kakashi was still smiling, like he could read these facts right off of Iruka's face.

"I think I need to go home," Iruka said quietly.

Kakashi's smile vanished. "What? Why?"

Iruka stared at him. "I might be gay!" he said loudly.

Kakashi nodded. "I know. That's why I have you here."

It was so matter-of-fact and blasé that Iruka didn't know what reaction to have. Surely this information was more stunning than that. He was slightly put out.

"So you'll date me?" Kakashi asked.

"No!" Iruka snapped.

"Why not?"

"Because you don't kidnap people and then expect them to date you!"

Kakashi sighed. "I already said, you weren't kidnapped. You're welcome to leave at any time."

Iruka glared at him.

"All right, then what do you want?" Kakashi asked finally.

That was a good question. Iruka frowned. "I don't know. But not being kidnapped. And I don't know if I want to date you, period. You might not be my type." It was near-spiteful, and he knew it.

Kakashi's face didn't fall. Not quite.

Iruka went silent. "I'm sorry," he said finally.

Kakashi just smiled and shrugged, but it looked forced.

"I just--I'm going to go home. Think about things. All right?" Iruka asked quietly.

Kakashi nodded again. "Do you want to take food?" he asked, looking at the mostly uneaten meal spread out before them. "I can't eat all this . . . "

Iruka hesitated, and in that moment Kakashi started packing it up, complete with the bottle of sake.

"Thank you," Iruka said afterward, standing at Kakashi's door, a grocery bag in each hand.

"You're welcome," Kakashi said, just as quietly.

Iruka paused, then walked out the door.

"We're still friends?" Kakashi asked.

Iruka stopped and looked back over his shoulder. "Yeah. Friends."

**

"How'd dinner go?"

Iruka's head snapped up, and he stared in shock at Genma. "You knew about that?"

Genma grinned. "Of course. How'd it go?"

Iruka glared. "He kidnapped me and took me to his apartment."

Genma's smile faltered. "He did?"

Iruka nodded.

"Oh. We didn't know about the kidnapping part." He went to sit down, and Iruka grabbed a stack of papers before they were smashed underneath the Special Jounin.

They sat in silence for a time. Iruka stared at his sheets of papers; registration forms for the new school year. "Genma," Iruka said slowly, "I might be gay."

"Yeah, I know," Genma said disinterestedly.

Iruka looked up at him, frustration lancing through his body. "How can you know? You're not me."

"Mizuki," Genma said, flipping through registration forms.

Iruka turned red. He could feel the heat burning his ears. "Mizuki?" he squeaked. "He told you that?"

"He told everyone who'd listen that," Genma snorted. "You ever notice," he started conversationally, as if the previous subject was closed, "how no one names their kids Kakashi? Or Tsunade? Not that Kakashi's in her league, but it's just interesting--"

"I can't believe he told you that!" Iruka nearly yelled.

Genma looked at him. "He did. In case you hadn't noticed, he was kind of a slut."

"I was drunk," Iruka said.

Genma shrugged. "Are you going to date Kakashi?"

"No," Iruka muttered. "He's not my type."

Genma just stared at him.

"What?" Iruka snapped.

"Right. I can see how Mizuki's silver hair and lean build is nothing like--"

Iruka glared. Genma fell silent, grinning. Iruka went back to sorting registration forms.

It was lunchtime when Kakashi arrived. He smiled, standing in the doorway, and lifted a bag. "I brought lunch. I can't stay, but I thought you might--well--here."

Before Iruka could even say 'thanks,' Kakashi had dropped the bag and fled.

Genma picked it up and peered inside. "You date Kakashi," he said, grinning, "and you'll never have to cook again. Smell."

Iruka had to admit, it smelled nice.

**

Kakashi opened the door, and smiled. Iruka stood there, looking awkward. "I just wanted to say thank you," Iruka said after a moment. "For lunch."

Kakashi put both hands in his pockets, leaning against the doorway. "You're welcome." Asuma had suggested it, oh so casually, when they'd seen each other at the market.

"And I wanted to apologize," Iruka continued. "While what you did yesterday wasn't appropriate, I overreacted. To a lot of things."

Kakashi breathed a silent sigh of relief. He hadn't totally messed up, then. "I'm sorry I upset you," he said quietly. "I do try not to upset people." Except Gai, but that was funny. And his Genin team, because they all had such hilarious reactions. And Tsunade, but that was just to remind her that she was still a person, and not infallible. And sometimes Iruka, because that was funny, too. But he hadn't been trying to do that earlier.

"And, well, Genma and I were talking . . . and apparently everyone but me knew I liked other men . . ."

Kakashi nodded. Even he'd known Iruka liked other men, just from the way the Chuunin looked at them.

"And Genma pointed out that I could do wor--I mean, that you might--that is--" Iruka scowled, staring down at his sandals. He twiddled with the hem of shirt. "Genma suggested I could ask you--that we could--maybe--"

Kakashi watched with near-glee while Iruka's face turned red. He really couldn't help it if he had a sadistic streak.

"Help me, here," Iruka muttered.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" Kakashi asked.

"Yes," Iruka sighed. "That would be nice."

Kakashi stepped aside, and Iruka walked into his apartment.

**
A long time ago . . .

Kakashi peered around the corner, lying on his stomach on the floor, his head flat against the wood so his parents wouldn’t see.

They were eating dinner.

Soft words and softer light, and the gentle laugh that was his mother. She had been gone for days, and only just returned. He could smell the dark of forest and sweetness of sweat. Could almost taste the dirt that creased into her skin.

His father didn't seem to mind. His father kissed her across the table, then stood, smiling as he walked toward the doorway.

Kakashi jumped to his feet and ran, hurrying down the hall, into his room, leaping into his bed and burying his face into his pillow.

Sleep. Really. He'd been sleeping. Sleeping sleeping sleeping sleeping.

He heard footsteps stop in his doorway. "If you're already awake, you might as well come say hello."

He cracked one eye and looked up. "Really?"

His father smiled and nodded.

Kakashi sat up, swinging his legs over the bed. "Even though my tutor comes tomorrow?"

His father only stepped out of the way, waiting.

Kakashi ran down the hall once more, bare feet slapping against polished wood, his shadow stretching and shrinking in the lamp light. This time he ran right through the sliding doors. He went as fast as he could across the room, around the table, flying against his mother. She smelled soft and sharp, and she wrapped strong arms around him and held on.

"Missed you," Kakashi murmured into her neck.

"Missed you, too," she said back. She tightened her hold in a fierce hug, then released him. He fell back onto his heels, smiling happily.

"Let your mother eat, Kakashi," his father said, settling once more on the other side of the table. "She's had a long day, trying to get back to us."

Kakashi settled quietly, hugging his knees and letting his chin fall to them. They ate, his mother and father, and spoke softly. He listened to the rise and fall of their voices, and ate food off his father's chopsticks. Warmth and candlelight flickered, surrounding the three, and food filled Kakashi's belly, making him sleepy and content.

"Would you like more rice?" he asked his mother when she started to run low.

"No, thank you, Kakashi. I've had lots of food. I think I'm going to have a bath, then go to bed," she said, smiling. Then she rose, pausing over him. "Love you," she said, dropping a kiss onto his forehead before leaving the room, as quietly as she must have entered.

Kakashi watched his father pick up dishes, stacking dirty ones together and carrying them into the kitchen. He followed quietly, climbing up onto the counter. "She must not eat much, when she's out," Kakashi said solemnly.

His father looked at him quizzically.

"You always make her dinner when she gets back. No matter how late."

His father smiled, and offered him a cookie. "I think she's probably hungry when she gets home, you're right," he said. "But it's how I can show her I love her. If she's tired and hungry, and has had a hard mission, I can give her warm food and a full stomach before she goes to bed. She does the same for me, when I have missions."

Kakashi chewed his cookie thoughtfully. "Can I help next time?" he asked hopefully. "I can make rice."

His father smiled and flicked water at him.

Kakashi ducked, then rubbed his nose. "I love Mother. I want to help make her dinner."

His father looked at him for a long moment, then smiled. "Kakashi, I would love your help."

*********

Chapter seven
Now

"So, can he cook?" Genma asked, wandering into the mission office.

"Why are you here?" Iruka asked, rubbing his eyes. "You don't work here. I know you have missions. You must have somewhere to go home to."

Genma grinned around his toothpick. "Everyone comes through here eventually. It's the perfect place to be."

Iruka sighed and gave into the inevitable. "Yes. He can cook."

"And you had fun last night?"

"Yes. We had fun."

"Not too much fun, I hope," Genma said, grinning again.

Iruka only glared at him.

Genma sobered. "All right, what's wrong?"

Iruka paused, not really sure if he wanted to share this. It seemed silly. "Everyone is taking this whole me liking men thing really well," he said finally. "I mean, this is a big realization for me. It's just so . . . so . . . anti-climactic."

Genma laughed. "That's because we already knew. Mizuki--"

"Yeah, I know," Iruka muttered. He stared down at the school forms, still vaguely annoyed.

Genma hopped onto the desk, leaning back on his hands. "Besides, he told us about both times."

"Both times?" Iruka squeaked. "There was only the once!"

"Mizuki said you were on a mission together--"

"That doesn't count," Iruka snapped. "We didn't get very far--" he stopped. Genma was laughing.

"And you didn't realize you liked men earlier?" the Special Jounin crowed.

Iruka folded his arms over his chest and glared at nothing.

Genma kept laughing. And laughing. And then he finally stopped, but when he looked at Iruka, he started laughing again.

Tsunade walked in the door and stopped dead. "Something funny?" she asked after a minute.

"Iruka--Iruka--he says he didn't know he was gay, even though he practically had sex with Mizuki in a tree--"

"We didn't practically have sex," Iruka ground out. His face was burning. He was going to kill someone. Mizuki had been a mistake. A really bad mistake, starting from the first day they'd met. He just hadn't realized it at the time.

"You practically had sex--" Genma laughed. "Mizuki told me in detail--"

Iruka stood up, grabbed his bags, and headed for the door. Tsunade was still watching them.

"--said the bark was really uncomfortable--"

"Can I help you, Tsunade-sama?" he asked politely, trying to ignore the fact that his face was nearly purple.

"--and Iruka says he didn't know--"

Tsunade handed him a satchel of mission scrolls. "If you'd hand these out to the appropriate people?"

He nodded and took them.

"--didn't know!"

Tsunade looked at Genma, then back at Iruka. "You're gay?"

Iruka's lips thinned down to a line. "Apparently."

"Really?"

"He's seeing Kakashi," Genma managed.

Iruka turned to glare at the Special Jounin. He was sitting on the floor, holding his stomach, and when he looked at Iruka he started laughing again. "How could you not know?"

"What's going on?" Kurenai asked, pausing in the doorway.

"Nothing," Iruka ground out.

"We're watching Genma be hysterical over Iruka's apparent obliviousness," Tsunade said.

"I wasn't oblivious," Iruka said through clenched teeth. "I just didn't know I liked men."

"After having sex with Mizuki in a tree," Tsunade added.

"We didn't have sex!" Iruka shouted.

"Who?" Asuma asked, walking up and stopping beside Kurenai. "You and Kakashi?"

"You had sex with Kakashi?" Shizune asked.

This couldn't possibly get worse. Why was it, Iruka wondered, that people always arrived at the worst times? Like some sort of strange summoning technique. The slightest bit of gossip, and there were people everywhere. "I haven't had sex with anyone!" he yelled, frustrated.

"Guess dinner didn't go as well as it could have," Asuma murmured. Kurenai elbowed him, and Iruka gave her a grateful look.

"Not with anyone? He's a virgin?" someone--he thought it was Shizune--said quietly.

He couldn't win. He really couldn't. And with everyone crowding the hall, he couldn't even escape.

"Who's a virgin?" asked an overly familiar voice.

Iruka turned still redder and dropped his head. He was not even going to look up. He really, really wasn't.

"Iruka is," Tsunade said. "So be nice, Kakashi."

"Hey," he said calmly, "I wouldn't take advantage. Don't know why you assume I would . . ."

Iruka felt Kakashi stop in front of him. He still didn't look up. "Hi," he muttered.

"Iruka, you look sunburned again."

Iruka moved his eyes, but not his head, glaring up at Kakashi from under his brows.

Kakashi was looking into the mission office, though, at Genma, who was still on the floor. Kakashi sauntered in, and knelt in front of the other man. He looked back over his shoulder, single eye half-lidded. "Is he troubling you?"

"Just teasing," Iruka sighed.

Kakashi nodded. Then he looked back at Genma, who had stopped laughing (though not smirking) and said, "Remember that mission we were on, together? The one with Inuzuka Tsume? And her dog?" The last words were stressed, and Kakashi smiled brightly. "Remember that night--"

"Uh, yeah," Genma said, smirk gone. "Thanks. I remember." The toothpick flicked from one side to the other.

Kakashi nodded happily and stood. "Now--Tsunade? You asked to see me?"

**

Kakashi left the Hokage's office with his mission scroll in hand, and headed to the main office. He poked his head inside, where Genma was flipping through files.

"Iruka?" Kakashi asked.

"Went outside," Genma answered, without turning.

Kakashi nodded and headed out.

Iruka was sitting in the grass under a tree, stacks of paper around him held down by rocks.

"Yo," Kakashi said, stopping in front of the Chuunin.

Iruka looked up, lifting one hand to shade his eyes. He smiled. "Hello, Kakashi."

Kakashi put his hands in his pockets, unsure now what he should say. He felt he should say something. This hadn't been so hard the day before, when Iruka had gone to his apartment for dinner.

Iruka saved him. "Thank you for stopping Genma. I appreciated that."

Which only reminded him of overhearing that Iruka hadn't had sex, which he was trying not to think about. "You're welcome," he said, battling back the urge to say something that would make the younger man blush. It was just so funny to make people squirm. But he was trying to be charming. Or something like that.

They stared at each other a moment more.

"You have a mission?" Iruka asked finally.

Kakashi nodded. "I'll probably be gone a few days."

"All right. Be careful."

Kakashi's mind stopped, for just an instant. He couldn't remember the last time someone had told him to be careful. Rin, maybe. And before her--no one he could think of. "All right," he said finally. "I will."

Iruka just nodded and smiled, like he hadn't just said something shocking.

After a moment, Kakashi wandered away.

**

"What is wrong with you?" Genma asked, astounded and horrified.

Iruka hid his face. Looking back on it, sneaking into Genma's apartment and putting itching powder in his shaving cream really hadn't been the most mature thing to do. It had been something he would have done years ago. He just couldn't help it. After listening to Genma call him "virgin-boy" and "oblivious-man" for the last two days, it seemed only fair.

He glanced up at the Special Jounin. The man's jaw was bright red. Iruka smirked, then told himself he shouldn’t be laughing at another's pain, and returned to staring at his hands. "Sorry, Genma," he said contritely.

"No, you're not!" Genma yelped.

Iruka couldn't hide the smile this time, though he did smother it as quickly as he could.

"You are a truly sick individual, Iruka!" Genma said.

Iruka stared at the mission office doorway, wishing someone would come by. Maybe Tsunade could give him more work, or--

A small dog in a blue vest went racing by the door, a scroll clamped in its jaws.

Iruka frowned. That wasn't Akamaru, and the only other person he knew of that could summon dogs--

He stood and hurried to the doorway. The dog had vanished into the Hokage's office. A moment later, Tsunade opened the door, following the pug out. "Iruka," she said, stopping dead. The scroll was in her hand, her fist tight. "Get a medic. Follow Pakkun--he'll take you to Kakashi."

"Hurry up, kid," the dog said, and started to run.

**

He couldn't be hurt. He couldn't. Rumors said Sharingan Kakashi never got hurt.

The three of them ran through the forest, two men following a pug in ninja clothes. Pakkun had given them the basics; the scroll Kakashi had stolen contained plans for an attack on an allied village. The attackers realized he had it long before they should have, and while he managed to make it most of the way back, a group of them--a squad of twenty Chuunin--had caught up.

Kakashi wasn't dead. Beyond that, Pakkun couldn't be sure how he was doing.

Iruka ran, searching for signs of enemies as he kept up with the medic and the dog. They passed from shadow to light and back again, the forest dim even in mid-afternoon. The three of them were breathing hard, air rasping through lungs. Pakkun scratched the trees, sending leaves and bark and moss scattering down to the forest floor.

Ninja got hurt on missions all the time. Iruka repeated that, trying to make this real. But it couldn't be Kakashi. Kakashi was supposed to be invincible.

"Here!" Pakkun called, and with a flurry of claws and bark, he was up into an ancient tree. Boughs hung, darkening the interior, creating a perfect hiding place.

Iruka jumped, propelling himself up. He flew through a shaft of light, and then into the darkness of the canopy. Birds hushed at his passing, or darted quickly out of the way.

He nearly stepped on the body. Iruka tripped, caught himself, and knelt, eyes looking everywhere but at the man before him. No signs of the enemy.

The medic landed beside him. Put a hand on the Jounin.

Iruka looked.

The man lay on a branch on his stomach, curled slightly. He was breathing. Blood soaked his shirt, soaked the branch. The moss squelched.

Iruka's heart hammered into his throat. Silver hair. Silver hair that was normally bright and shining, and was now matted with blood. What he could see of Kakashi's face was smeared with it. Iruka tore his eyes away, straining to listen for sounds of pursuers, of anyone moving around below. His job was to keep them safe, and he couldn't do it while staring at the fallen Jounin. He couldn't do it if he panicked.

Iruka breathed carefully, trying to measure each one. Leaves twisted, turning long strands of ivy that hung down into the darkness. One of them glimmered red in the half-light, and Iruka looked away again.

"Nothing's broken," the medic said softly. "They got some fairly major veins, though he bandaged them before he passed out."

Relief shuddered through Iruka. Nothing broken. Blood loss. Blood loss could be bad, but--Kakashi was breathing.

"We have to get him to the hospital," the medic said. "I can't treat him here."

Iruka nodded, silent. "Take him. I'll watch for followers."

**

The Jounin had spent three hours in the operating room, while they repaired internal damage, stopped the bleeding, and transferred enough blood to keep his organs functioning.

Iruka waited through all of it, but not inside. He sat on a ledge around the building, peering in through a window. He couldn't stand hospitals. Not since he was a child. Not since his parents died.

So he sat on the ledge and peered in the window, and only when they put Kakashi in a normal room did he enter.

They let him see the other man almost immediately, but warned him Kakashi wouldn’t wake for another few hours. Possibly longer.

Iruka stood beside the bed, watching the slender chest rise and fall. The doctors had pulled the mask down far enough to expose his nose--or, more likely, they'd pulled it off but replaced it--and tubes threaded into him, bringing extra oxygen and who knew what else.

He was very small.

They were nearly the same height, but Kakashi--he looked like a strong breeze might blow him away.

Eventually, Iruka touched him. Just the back of his hand. To see that he was real.

He was cold. Iruka sat down on the edge of the bed, putting Kakashi's hand in both of his and rubbing.

Kakashi's hands were longer. Slender, almost bony, fingers stretched beyond Iruka's grip. His skin, normally pale, was now so white Iruka could easily make out blue veins threading underneath.

He tried hard to ignore it. Everything would be okay. Kakashi was fine. Just needed to rest.

**
Long ago . . .

"I don't want my son--"

"He's my son too, Li," Sakumo snapped.

Kakashi tried to sink smaller on the floor, tucked into the corner. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want them to fight.

"Do you have any idea what will happen? He's only five!" his mother shouted, enraged.

"He's a genius! A genius unlike anyone has seen since the Sannin! You can't honestly expect him to wait until he's older--"

"I can wait," Kakashi offered, nearly trembling. "I can wait. I won't do anymore ninja things." He should have known not to do them in the house. He'd broken the lamp, and now everyone was so angry . . .

"Kakashi, why don't you go to your room for a little while," his mother said without looking at him.

"Please don't fight," Kakashi murmured. "I won't be a ninja until it's okay--"

"Kakashi," his father said softly. "Let us talk about this, all right?"

He wilted. "Yes, sir," he said quietly, and shuffled out of the room. He stood in the hall, though, listening.

"I do not want Kakashi to join the academy." It was his mother. She had to be angry about the lamp. He wanted to tell her that he wouldn't break anything else, but they'd asked him to go to his room . . .

"Why not?" his father said, sounding like he was hurt. "He's brilliant!"

"That's the problem, Sakumo. He's brilliant. Do you know what happens to brilliant ninja? They test out early. I was a Chuunin at ten. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, much less my own son. I won’t have it."

Kakashi curled down by the wall, hugging his knees. He hated it when people were angry. He could feel something in the air, pressing against him. It hurt.

When his father spoke, there was steel in his voice. "You're being ridiculous. He'll be fine. I've already enrolled him--"

"You did what? How could you do that? You know how I feel about this!"

"You were on a mission and enrollment was due. He's a genius, Li! He's going to learn whether you want him to or not! Better he learn at the academy, under someone's tutelage!"

"He'll have no one to talk to because he'll be too young, and he'll get hurt!"

Kakashi put his hands over his ears, hiding his face. He wished he were normal. Then they wouldn't fight. It was all his fault.

"He won't get hurt, he'll be at the acade--"

"And when he graduates? What then? What happens--"

Kakashi got up. The air was too heavy, and filled with color. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn't do anything, and it was all his fault. He ran out the door, into the yard, and heard behind him, "--I want my son to be safe!"

**
Now

When Iruka saw Kakashi awake for the first time after a full day of unconsciousness, he couldn't hold back his smile.

The man had his mask all the way up again, and he was leaning heavily against the doorframe, talking to a nurse.

"You may not leave, Kakashi-san," the woman was saying, standing firmly in Kakashi's path. "You can go lay back down and stay there while you regain some strength."

"But there's nothing wrong with me," Kakashi said persuasively. "Really. I'm just a little tired."

Iruka paused, and then went in search of a doctor. It took a few minutes, and he had to wait while the man finished something, but eventually they were able to talk.

"How is Hatake Kakashi?" Iruka asked quietly. "If he's able to go home, he would rest better." From what he'd seen in the doorway, with Kakashi still so pale he was almost blue and looking like he could be knocked over by Pakkun, and yet still obviously determined to leave, Iruka had the impression that the Jounin wasn't going to stay peacefully.

The doctor sighed and cleaned his glasses before settling them back on his face. "Kakashi is weak. The blood loss was fairly extreme; we saved his organs, so there was mostly only minor damage, but his body needs time to replenish. He's going to be sleeping quite a bit over the next few days, even with his advanced chakra. Furthermore, I don't know if he'll be functional enough to take care of himself."

Just then, Kakashi walked past the door wearing a lab coat and pushing an empty gurney.

"Excuse me," Iruka said, stepping out of the little exam room they were in. He followed Kakashi for a few steps. "Going somewhere?"

Kakashi jumped, then turned and smiled sheepishly behind the mask. "Just, ah, for a walk."

Iruka stared at him, arms folded. "Why don't you come talk to the doctor with me," he said finally, taking Kakashi by the arms and steering him toward the exam room.

He was surprised when the ninja didn't fight him. He was frightened at how thin the man was, and his skin was cool to the touch.

"Doctor, could you please repeat what you said a moment ago?" Iruka asked, blocking the doorway, Kakashi in front of him.

The doctor repeated it.

Kakashi wouldn’t look at either of them. "So I'll go home and sleep," he said lazily. "I can refrain from doing anything else."

"And when you start sleeping through meals? Weakening because you aren't eating? Start showing warning signs but are too tired to make it back to the hospital?" the doctor asked.

"I'm not staying here," Kakashi grumbled. "There's no reason."

"Kakashi-san," the doctor said, sounding like it was only with great effort that he used the suffix, "you came very close to dying. We have to watch for internal bleeding, for any stitches that might be re-opened--"

"What if he stayed with me?" Iruka asked. His eyes widened when he heard what he'd just said. But he hated hospitals, and he couldn't blame Kakashi for wanting to leave, and that way--well, they were friends . . .

Kakashi was staring at him.

"If you're willing to change bandages, check for warning signs, and take care of him . . ." the doctor said dubiously.

"Mostly he needs rest, right?" Iruka asked, his mouth going dry. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he couldn't seem to stop.

"I'm standing right here," Kakashi muttered.

Iruka and the doctor ignored him.

"He's going to sleep. He just needs someone to watch over him. Right?" Iruka asked again.

"Yes," the doctor said finally. "I suppose."

Iruka gave a weak smile. "I could do that."

"I want to go back to my apartment," Kakashi said sullenly.

The doctor turned to glare at him. "Here are your choices. You can either go with Iruka-san, or stay here."

Kakashi looked utterly mutinous. "I'd like to go back to my apartment," he said again, much more distinctly this time.

"You are not fit to stay by yourself," the doctor repeated.

"It's sleeping," Kakashi said, the normal indolent tones back. "I'm sure I can rest on my own."

"And feed yourself? And check your wounds? Change bandages?" the doctor asked.

"Of course."

Iruka reached out with one finger and pushed the slim man.

Kakashi's eye widened in surprise, and he had to take three steps before fetching up against the wall. "What was that for?" he asked, leaning.

"You're strong enough to take care of yourself?" Iruka asked.

Kakashi glared. Then he glared at the doctor. "I'll stay with Iruka," he muttered finally.

**

"I certainly don't need a babysitter," Kakashi was still protesting, nearly two hours later.

"I know," Iruka said, not for the first time, as he opened to the door to his apartment. "But humor the doctors." He glanced around the living room self-consciously, toe-ing off his sandals. It wasn't filthy, but it certainly wasn't like Kakashi's apartment.

Okay, it was filthy. Kakashi went in past him, pausing to stand beside the couch. Iruka hurried to close the door, then grabbed laundry off of the pull-out.

Kakashi folded down onto it even before the clothes were entirely out of the way. "I don't need someone to look after me. I've changed my own bandages."

"Do you need anything from your apartment?" Iruka asked, ignoring Kakashi's statement and quickly tidying.

Kakashi leaned against the arm. "No. Nothing. Maybe clothes. Later."

Iruka only nodded. "Well, let me get you some food, and change your bandages, and then if you want to nap . . ."

"I don't need to nap," Kakashi muttered, peering around. "I'm fine."

Iruka did his best to ignore the sulky tone. "Right," he said. "Let me just go get some bandages." He took his armload of clothes into the bedroom, shoving them into the hamper.

His apartment was only slightly bigger than Kakashi's; still, he had a separate bedroom and living room. There was a linen closet between them, and he dug through it quickly, looking for sheets and blankets. "You'll have to sleep on the couch," Iruka called. "I mean, you can use my futon during the day if you like, but I’m just not nice enough to give it up at night." There was no response from the other room. He hurried into the bathroom, grabbing gauze pads and medical tape. He hesitated, then picked up a container of salve, too. "We'll get you settled, and I'll head to your place to get you a change of clothes," he said, coming back into the living room.

Iruka froze.

Kakashi had fallen asleep, curled into a ball in the corner of the couch. His head was pillowed on the arm, his mouth slightly open.

"Or, you can nap first," Iruka said softly, shaking his head with a smile. He draped the blanket over Kakashi, and went into the kitchen to fix dinner.