Disclaimer: Only the story belongs to me. Naruto characters belong to Kishimoto Masashi. This is written purely for entertainment; no money is being gained.
Notes: Prompts taken from a table atthe 5x10prompts communityLivejournal. Some prompt-sections are longer than others.

A World In Us

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born."
- Anais Nin

1. First Kiss

"Are you ready?"

Kakashi looked up quickly at his father's voice; he had been concentrating so hard on getting his little bundle securely tied, that he had not noticed when his father had stepped in his room. Kakashi frowned at himself. He should have been more aware of his surroundings; he was the best in his class when it came to Concealment, and even better at finding other people when they were hidden.

"Why the long face?" Sakumo knelt beside him and placed his large hands on the contents, pressing down so that Kakashi could tie the straps properly.

"I should have heard you, when you came in." Kakashi knew he was pouting, but he couldn't help it. His father gave a surprised laugh, and then ruffled his hair.

"I was being very quiet, 'Kashi-kun. Soon enough, even if I am not moving, you will learn to know where I am." He smiled down at his son's brightened expression. "Come, let's get going. We don't want to be too late."

He helped the pack onto Kakashi's back, and they exited the large house, heading towards the tall entry gates. A gardener waved at them, and Kakashi waved merrily back, the late evening wind catching his wild hair and tossing the silvery strands.

"Shall I carry you?" Sakumo looked down at him, hands on his hips. Kakashi was about to tell him that he was four years old, he was a big boy, and he didn't need to be carried anywhere, he could keep up. Then, after musing over it a bit, he nodded quickly. His father was far faster than he was right now, and if they wanted to get to the Umino house in time, then maybe that would be better.

Sakumo hunkered down, and Kakashi clambered onto his back quickly. He made sure his grip around his father's neck was secure, but not too tight. His father leapt into the nearest tree, and Kakashi grinned as they flew through the forest. His father's hair whipped against his cheek, smelling like the soap he used. Once, when Kakashi had asked about it, Sakumo had simply said that Kakashi's mother had given him once as a gift, and he had always purchased them even after she died; she had ordered them hand-made, with the scents of balsam and cedar. Kakashi had looked thoughtfully at the memorial picture of his mother, serenely gazing out from behind the array of candles and flowers, and wondered what kind of soap she would have bought for him.

Within minutes, they arrived at a small cluster of houses, set back from the wide main road that led to the commercial heart of Konoha. Right before his father jumped down into the clearing, Kakashi could see the bright lights that lined the streets, being lit one by one. If he squinted a little, he could just make out the Hokage Rock, and the roof of the Academy.

"Here we are," Sakumo said as he landed lightly in front of one of the cosy-looking houses, and let Kakashi slide off his back. "Ah, you are getting too heavy to be carrying around, 'Kashi-kun!" He stretched dramatically and Kakashi covered his mouth, stifling his laugh as his father staggered around comically. "Oh, you will have to carry me back home."

"I can do that," Kakashi answered confidently and his father grinned down at him. The front door slid open, and a man smiled out at them.

"Sakumo-san," the man said with a smile and a polite bow. "Welcome. And hello, Kakashi-kun. Please, come in."

"Hello, Iruma-san." Sakumo rested his hand on Kakashi's shoulder and gave him a slight push forward. "We're here to welcome your new addition."

After they removed their sandals and entered the main room, Kakashi looked around in interest. It was small and neat, with only one level, unlike the Hatake compound. He also noticed that while his house had red tiles on the roof, this was still thatched; Kakashi thought it was very nice.

A young woman with long dark hair came from behind a partition and smiled. Kakashi stared at her with wide eyes, for she was very pretty, and he only managed to nod shyly as she exclaimed over how much he looked like his father. Sakumo addressed her as Michiyo and then said, "Kakashi, is there something you brought for the baby?"

"Yes!" Kakashi knelt right there, removing his pack. He undid his knots and took out the items with great care, handing them one by one to Michiyo. She smiled at the soft, woven blanket and the little inner tube, and then her eyes brightened when Kakashi finally gave her a small, carved figure, the painted eyes and the outstretched arms denoting a cheerful scarecrow.

"I made that one," Kakashi informed her, his hands held behind him in nervousness. "Father helped."

"It is wonderful, Kakashi-kun." She handed the blanket to Iruma and then held out her hand to Kakashi. "I think it would be nice if you gave it to him."

Kakashi gave his father an uncertain look; Sakumo inclined his head and Kakashi gripped her soft hand, holding the scarecrow tightly when she handed it back to him. She led him behind the screen and they knelt beside a small futon with raised sides; upon this, a baby slept, little mouth parted and lashes long against chubby cheeks.

Kakashi knelt on the floor beside him and wanted to touch the shock of fine hair, but restrained himself.

"His name is Iruka," Michiyo whispered; she reached out and ran her own fingers through the baby's hair. He stirred and made a little, soft noise, then settled back to sleep.

"How old is he?" Kakashi whispered back, and put the scarecrow at the foot of the futon, to keep company with a stuffed toy in the shape of a cow. "Will he wake soon? Can he say anything?"

"He is only two months old," Michiyo answered, smiling. "He just went to sleep, so he might not wake for now. And no, he can't say anything yet. But he cries a lot and smiles even more."

"Why do you cry, baby?" Kakashi asked, and finally gave in to his urge. He touched the baby's hair and then pressed one finger against an open palm. Little fingers curled tightly over his. Kakashi bit his lip and then blurted, "Can I hold him?" When Michiyo hesitated, Kakashi said in a rush, "I'll be careful, I promise. I won't drop him or anything, I'll be very, very careful."

"Alright. Sit down, right there."

Kakashi sat down quickly on the floor, cross-legged. Michiyo picked up the baby, blanket and all and crooned at him when he wriggled and fussed. Then she placed him in Kakashi's ready arms, instructing him to make sure the baby's head was supported properly.

He was heavier than Kakashi thought he would be and he was very warm. He smelled... new.

"He's smiling," Kakashi said wonderingly as the baby's lips curved up at the corners, a brief movement. He continued to hold Iruka even when Michiyo went out to have tea with her husband and Kakashi's father. He listened to them murmur, and when Iruma laughed out loud at something Sakumo said, the baby twitched and blinked open his eyes.

They were large and brown, and slightly crossed as he stared up at Kakashi.

"Hello," Kakashi told him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Iruka looked very confused at that. "Hello, Iruka-kun. I'm Kakashi."

Iruka continued to stare up at him, and then he smiled again. He blinked a few times and then went back to sleep, right before Michiyo returned to check on them.

"Your father is ready," she told him as she took the baby from him and placed him back on his little futon. Kakashi reluctantly got to his feet; he had wanted to stay for a little longer. Much to his surprise, Michiyo hugged him and said, "But you can come back to see Iruka whenever you like."

"Really?" Kakashi actually wanted to bounce around, but he didn't want to wake Iruka.

"Really. Now come, your father is waiting."

"When can we come back?"Kakashi asked as he clambered on his father's back again, completely forgetting that he was a big boy and he had claimed that he would carry his father home. "I want to come back tomorrow."

Sakumo laughed. "No, not so soon. But in a few days, yes."

"Do you think he will like the scarecrow?" Kakashi asked as his father jumped into the nearest branch and launched himself towards another tree, moving fast and easily. "I hope he likes it."

"I'm sure he will," Sakumo said confidently, and they said nothing more as he headed home; but all the way, Kakashi was making plans to carve another toy for the baby.

A dolphin, he decided as he considered Iruka's name. A little dolphin with a happy smile.

*

2. First Words

Kakashi waited patiently under the trees within the large yard, watching Iruka toddle giddily with the rest of the babies. An pair of women, one old and one young, were gossiping in the shade of the long, low building that served as the nursery. It was not far from the Academy, and Kakashi passed it every day as he went back and forth from school. He stopped there every time to see Iruka, so much so that the ladies probably thought he was a cousin or something.

He smiled as Iruka finally spotted him and the little boy let out a loud squeal, racing over unsteadily on plump little legs; the younger care-taker got to her feet in alarm, and then settled back in her comfortable seat as Kakashi stepped out from the shadows and knelt to catch Iruka before he fell.

Iruka babbled something at him excitedly and Kakashi nodded as if he understood.

"Really?" Kakashi asked in amusement; Iruka nodded earnestly and rambled some more. He had something in his little palm, and he offered this to Kakashi. "Oh." Kakashi grimaced as Iruka tried to force him to eat the crushed biscuit. "No, I don't want it."

Iruka scowled up at him, but giggled and dropped the mangled biscuit when Kakashi flexed his fingers and launched a rapid tickle-attack.

Kakashi finally released the laughing child and grinned. "Look, I have something to show you." He pulled a scroll out of his back pocket, and sat on the ground, unfurling it as Iruka plunked down beside him. "I've graduated from the Academy!"

Iruka stared at the paper. He tried to take it, but Kakashi moved it out of his reach, for he would probably tear it and try to eat the shreds. "No, this is important. It's mine, I'm, um, graduated."

"Gralated?" Iruka mused in his surprisingly coarse baby-voice and Kakashi beamed down at him in delight. Much to their parents' amusement, Iruka's first word had not been any baby version of father or mother, but Kashi. At one point, he had called everything 'Kashi', including both his little carved scarecrow and dolphin. Fortunately, at one year old, most of his speech now consisted of a wider vocabulary, but Kakashi was still deeply pleased that Iruka's first word had been his own name.

"Yeah, graduated. Soon, I will be a chuunin!"

"A chuunin of goodness!" Someone howled from behind him and Kakashi rolled his eyes, turning to look over his shoulder.

"Shoo-nin?" Iruka queried, peering over Kakashi's shoulder as well. Gai was at the low fence that prevented the babies from escaping onto the main road, his thick eyebrows drawn down in his typical dramatic stare.

"Kakashi, one day I will graduate and be a chuunin too, and we'll fight!" Gai pumped his fist in the air enthusiastically. Kakashi was going to say something, maybe make fun of Gai's funny hair, but Iruka wrapped his arms tightly around Kakashi's neck, and began to lambast Gai in angry baby-talk, mixing 'Kashi', 'gralated', and 'shoo-nin' in a stream of incomprehensible threats. Apparently, Kakashi was the only one allowed to graduate from anywhere, and Gai was not to talk to him in any way, as far as Kakashi could interpret.

"That baby," Gai observed after Iruka calmed down, "is really loud."

"He's not just any baby," Kakashi said affectionately, patting Iruka on the back. Iruka sat in his lap, still shooting Gai dark glares. "He's Iruka, and he's my friend."

"Fren," Iruka confirmed, and snuggled properly against Kakashi's narrow chest.

*

3. First Heartbreak

Iruka was playing outside, waiting for Kakashi to come by. He hadn't seen his friend in a long time (actually, he had seen him three days ago, but to a four-year-old child, that was forever), and he was anxious to show him what he had learned in the Academy today. He tumbled and rolled and laughed out loud; the sunshine was hot against his skin, browning him thoroughly.

He was underneath the window of the kitchen, staring intently at a small frog and trying to determine the best way to catch it, when he heard his mother say in a tone of deep pain, "Oh no, not Sakumo. Not Sakumo."

Iruka sat back against his heels, frowning. Sakumo was Kakashi's father, and what could have happened to him to make his mother cry like that? He stood up and peered over the wooden sill, on tiptoes. His father stood there, holding his mother close and stroking his fingers through her long hair.

They were both still dressed in their working clothes, but his mother, usually a woman not given to tears, cried out,"Iruma, what about Kakashi?"

Iruka felt something in his chest tighten painfully, and without thinking he raced towards the road, heading without hesitation to the Hatake compound. He had been there many times before, carried by one of his parents or Kakashi, and he knew the way, but it was much farther than he had thought. He was panting horribly when he finally arrived at his destination, to find the house closed up completely. All the windows were shut, and had black material hung over them.

Iruka was suddenly very afraid, but then he thought about Kakashi; his friend that might be hurt, or needed help. He bit his lip and crept inside the yard.

Recently, he had felt very troubled when he came here to visit Kakashi. Something had changed, and it was mostly centred on Sakumo. Instead of the confident, smiling person that Iruka had known, he seemed to be a shadow of a man, moving from room to room with hunched shoulders.

It had affected Kakashi too, Iruka could tell. Whenever Kakashi came home from a mission, they didn't play at the Hatake compound anymore. Down by the river, yes, or at Iruka's home, but never close to where Sakumo barely existed. Once, Kakashi had fought with some other boy because they had said something about Sakumo, and when Iruka had burst out crying at the unsettling sight of his friend being so mean, Kakashi had stopped, and had brought him home.

"What are you doing here," someone said flatly now as Iruka slipped around the back of the house. He startled and slid, landing heavily on his bottom. Looking up, he saw a dark shape sitting on the floor of the side passageway, a mask pulled over the bottom half of their face.

"Kakashi!" Iruka scrambled up and reached out to him, but instead of taking his hand to pull him up, Kakashi turned his head away. "Kakashi?"

"Go away."

Iruka blinked at him, his hand dropping to the wooden surface of the outside corridor. Kakashi had never spoken to him like that, never turned away from him in such a manner. "Kakashi, what happened to Sakumo-otôusan?"

Kakashi's head snapped back towards him, his eyes wide and glittering with rage; he took a deep breath and screamed, "Shut up! I don't have a father! He's dead, he's dead and it's a good thing!"

Iruka clapped both hands over his own mouth, as if he was the one saying those awful things. They stared at each other, Kakashi breathing so hard that his nostrils flared with the effort, obvious even under the black material. His face looked so different, covered over with that mask, and Iruka was suddenly convinced that it wasn't his friend at all, but a demon who was the same height, with the same slender body and the same pale shock of hair.

Kakashi looked away again. "My father is dead." His voice was toneless once again, and tears welled up in Iruka's eyes; Sakumo was dead? "I always wanted to be like him," Kakashi continued coolly. "Always. But he died in shame. Go away. I don't want you around."

Iruka was shaking his head, weeping outright, but Kakashi simply stared at him. "I don't have time to play with you anymore. I'm not going to be like my father, and waste time with anybody."

"Not Kashi!" Iruka shrieked at him furiously; he was so overwhelmed that he reverted to his old baby-talk for a moment, without even realising what he was saying, and the eyes above the mask widened in surprise. Iruka bent down and grabbed a rock, hurling it at him. Kakashi caught it easily, but the strange hardness in his eyes was momentarily wiped away. "He's my friend and he wouldn't say those things! I love Kashi and you're not him!"

Iruka turned and ran back to his own house; he knew for certain that it wasn't his Kakashi, for his friend didn't like to see him cry; his Kakashi would have surely chased after him and wiped his face, and would have said special, silly things just to make him laugh again. He was still crying when he stumbled into his own yard, falling onto the tall grass. His mother ran out and gathered him up, wiping at his face with trembling fingers; she took him inside and put him to bed, but she didn't know that while some of his tears were for the loss of Sakumo, nearly all of them were shed for his 'Kashi.

*

4. First Child

There were ashes in the air, and Iruka's lungs were burning with the effort to breathe. He could hear faint shouting, but he couldn't tell if it was because the persons were very far away, or because he had gone almost deaf.

There had been a lot of noise, a heated roaring threaded with the screams of suffering Konoha villagers. It had been terrible.

Iruka tried to crawl out of the deep ditch that he had been pushed into by his father, and could not make it on the first try. He willed himself not to cry, but tears still streamed down his grimy cheeks as he grasped onto jutting rocks. Something scraped at his right leg painfully, and Iruka made an almost soundless whine of pain.

He finally reached the top of the ditch and scrambled over the crumbling edge, gaping at the desolation around him. What was once healthy green forest was now a smouldering wasteland. He hurriedly wiped at the tears on his face and was shocked to see that his hands came away bloody. Was he crying blood?

Iruka took the hem of his shirt and wiped at his face; the bridge of his nose began to sting painfully, and he remembered that when his father had thrown him, literally picked him up and threw him out of the path of a rolling ball of flame, the kunai in his father's hand had whipped across his face, and had cut him. It was long and deep; Iruka tried to remember a healing jutsu his mother had taught him a few weeks ago, and concentrated on his chakra, hoping to stitch the jagged edges of the wound together.

It hurt too much, and he stopped, looking around for his parents. The last time he had seen them, they had been... over there, by that large, burnt stump that had once been a proudly massive tree. He started to walk over there, favouring his right leg in a limp and then stopped.

All around him were bodies; most were charred beyond recognition, bones barely held together by still smoking flesh. Iruka realised with a dawning horror that the ash all around him was not only the remains of the forest, but of other people.

He called out, "Mother," but his voice was too hoarse and he was too weak to try harder. "Mother, mother," he whispered, staring at the last place he saw her, holding onto his collapsed father as the wall of flame overcame them.

Iruka swayed, and the world began to darken around him; he bit the inside of his cheek so he would not faint. He turned quickly on his heel and almost went down on his knees, breathing shallowly through his mouth and retching at the smell of burnt flesh.

He could hear much better now, and there was someone wailing. Iruka looked from side to side; in the middle of the destroyed circle, Iruka saw something moving weakly on the ground. Iruka hobbled over to it, apologising fretfully under his breath to the dead villagers over whom he was treading.

When he was very close, he realised that it was a white cloak, bundled up tightly around something small and squirmy and very loud. For a moment, he tried to remember where he had seen that cloak before, but pushed that to the back of his mind as he knelt and began to unwrap the material.

A small blond baby boy cried piteously as Iruka finally managed to free him; just an ordinary baby, with strange markings on his cheeks. Iruka wiped at them, thinking they were probably soot-marks from the fire, but they wouldn't come off. At least they weren't hurting him, he didn't seem to cry harder when Iruka touched them.

"It's okay," Iruka said, and wrapped the baby in the cloak again, as best as he could. He held him close, trying to make crooning sounds that he heard mothers do to calm their little ones, and it seemed to work, for this baby stopped crying and blinked large eyes up at Iruka before closing them again. He seemed exhausted, and Iruka looked up into the sky, trying to find the setting sun so he could go in the right direction.

"Hey! You there!"

Iruka could have cried as he saw a small group of people making their way towards him. He stood where he was, overcome with relief for a moment, before he realised that something was not right.

"Give me that baby," one man said to him quite harshly as soon as the group, made of about three men and two women, came closer. "Boy, listen to me. Give me that baby."

"What? Why?" Iruka stepped back and looked down into the child's face. So small and harmless, what did they want with him?

"It's the demon!" One woman shrieked and Iruka jumped at that desperate cry. "That child has the demon-fox in him, kill it! Kill it!"

Iruka stumbled back and almost fell, but someone caught his elbow and steadied him; he yanked away his arm and whirled around, thinking another of the villagers had snuck up behind him to take the baby away. Iruka had already reached the very firm conclusion that he would not let them harm the child, and so when he saw a very slim man standing there, wearing a strange metallic vest that wasn't really like that of a jounin and hefting a long sword, he hugged the baby closer and said in a tremulous voice, "I won't let you take him."

The man was wearing a mask which had been cracked in many places; he stared at Iruka and the child for what seemed to be a very long time. Then he darted towards Iruka, who barely had time to open his mouth in shock; he would have no chance against this kind of speed, but he hunched himself over the baby in his arms anyway, shoulders tense against any oncoming blow.

The cry died in his throat when he realised that this young man was now standing protectively in front of him, sword held out to ward off any attack from the angry group.

"Leave them," the strange shinobi commanded, and even when one villager stepped forward threateningly, he stood firm. "Leave them and go home to what's left of your families."

Muttering, they dispersed, throwing angry looks over their shoulders. The masked man watched them go, and when they all were out of sight, he turned to look at Iruka. He sheathed his sword and placed both hands against his mask; it crumbled in his hands, another completely damaged victim of the long battle, and he let the pieces fall to the ground.

Iruka's eyes widened. Now he noticed the hair, and this was no man; at least, not yet. While the face was far more narrow than Iruka remembered, he knew who this was, and knew him quite well. He didn't understand that mask, though, but his brain was far to tired to contemplate it. "Kakashi?"

Kakashi simply stared at the baby in Iruka's arms, reaching out to touch the material of the cloak he was swaddled in, running his fingers over the red pattern at the hem. Impulsively, Iruka caught at his gloved hand, holding on tightly.

"This kid has the nine-tails in him," Kakashi finally said, but he made no effort to remove Iruka's hand from his own. "The fox has killed a lot of our people."

Iruka looked down at the baby, who was still fast asleep, in shock. This child? "He's just a baby," Iruka finally murmured. He thought about his parents, and started to shiver; Kakashi's fingers flexed in his, as if he was going to pull them away.

"It's killed many good people," Kakashi said again in a strangely flat tone, even though Iruka could pick up something dangerous lurking underneath, something wounded, ready to lash out and destroy. Without thinking, Iruka turned away a little, his stance protecting the baby from Kakashi's steely gaze. In time, it was likely that he would come to hate this baby, for being a part of what took away his whole life. Maybe he would even regret saving him. But not today; he was too tired of seeing death today.

He still clasped Kakashi's hand, as if pleading with him. The expression in Kakashi's face changed and a cool stare flickered over Iruka's dirty face.

"Come on," he said softly, and pulled Iruka towards the Konoha's centre. "You'll take him to Sandaime-sama."

"What.. what happened to Y-Yondaime?" Iruka stuttered out, but Kakashi kept walking, and did not answer.

*

5. First Sight

Iruka would never, ever know, but for a long time, Kakashi firmly held onto the image of him as a plump, mostly cheerful baby who demanded kisses from Kakashi, liked to pull on Kakashi's hair and was prone to biting Kakashi on any available bit of skin when he was cranky. They had grown apart, and Kakashi blamed himself for that (not that he would go and apologise, it was likely that Iruka did not even remember the day Sakumo had died).

Even as they grew, politely acknowledging each other whenever they crossed paths, Kakashi still tended to think of him as Little 'Ruka, who had been one of the few persons in the world to love him wholeheartedly... not because he was the son of the White Fang, but just because he was Kakashi. Even up to the very moment Kakashi pushed him away, he had been sure of that fierce emotion. Sometimes, he thought about what would have happened to them if he hadn't been such a stupid, stubborn jerk.

Ah well; such was life. Contrary to popular opinion, Kakashi actually tried to learn new things, as opposed to just letting the Sharingan copy and emblazon important lessons into his mind. He was, at the lowest denominator of his being, simply a very well-trained killing machine, a status greatly fostered by all the harshness he had endured; and Kakashi could be even more pragmatic than that: they had been just children, and these things happened. People grew apart and grew different, that was all.

Sometimes, though, he liked to think about chubby 'Ruka laughing up in his face when 'Kashi brought him something special and sweet. Those memories, in conjunction with the ones of his father (the before ones, and Kakashi held onto those the way a bulldog would clamp on with all the power of their jaws) were ones he held dear to his heart.

And yes, no matter what anyone said, he actually had a heart. Sometimes he even liked to break it himself.

Kakashi had been mulling over these same memories of his father and 'Ruka on his way home from an 'data-collection' mission one day, leaping wearily from branch to branch, when he had heard low laughter and the sound of splashing. He had been about to continue on his way, when he heard someone shout, "Iruka! That's not fair!"

Curious that the person he had just been thinking about was so near, he made his way over in his usual silent manner and peered through the leaves at two young men. Water tumbled over smoothed rocks into a clear, deep pool, and Iruka was at the edge of of the tiny waterfall, laughingly tugging at another young man.

They were dressed in only their trousers, and Iruka's hair was pulling loose from the high ponytail that he had taken to wearing almost consistently nowadays. His hair was a lot longer than it seemed when it was caught up, falling in ink-dark waves past his shoulders. He looked completely different; Kakashi recalled that he was an Academy teacher now, even though.... and here Kakashi did some quick calculations... yes, Iruka was now nineteen, and with his hair falling down like that, the hair-band giving up the fight, he appeared almost as young as his charges. No wonder he always had his hair pulled up.

Currently, his face was swathed in a mischievous grin, strongly reminding Kakashi of the expression he would adopt as a baby when trying to trick Kakashi; he grabbed onto his companion's arm and hauled them off the waterfall, jumping into the pool with a yell. Immediately, the other man came up, sputtering out curses and heading for the shallows, but Kakashi spotted Iruka swimming towards him, a sleek shape moving quickly through the clear water until he surfaced; he pursed his lips and sent an arc of water out of his mouth and into the other man's face.

"Stop that!"

"Ah, you shouldn't be so afraid of water, Mizuki," Iruka mocked, grinning the whole while. This was a far cry from the coolly polite young man that Kakashi nodded at now and again; Kakashi was intrigued. "People might think you never took a bath."

"Why, you--" Mizuki lunged after him, but Iruka slipped under the water again. Mizuki squawked angrily and wheeled his arms around in great circles; he splashed back into the water, gurgling in rage. When Iruka reappeared once more, he had Mizuki's trousers in hand, and was laughing his head off. Kakashi's mouth twitched under the mask at the sound of his laughter.

"You always pull shit like this," Mizuki grumbled. "You always make fun of me."

"I'm sorry." Iruka swam over to him and returned the garment, smiling as Mizuki bent and dragged them back on under the water. "I would never make fun of you, you know that."

"Especially since I'm your only friend," Mizuki declared loftily, knocking at one side of his head with a clenched fist to get water out of the opposite ear. "Your very first friend, to be exact."

No, you weren't, Kakashi grumbled mentally, but Iruka only continued to smile gently at Mizuki, who stepped closer to him, placing a large hand on his shoulder and pulling him forward. Kakashi's brows lifted in surprise as Mizuki kissed him right on the mouth, one hand grasping a handful of that shining wet hair.

Kakashi shifted and Iruka pulled away from Mizuki's harsh kiss, looking up at the dense canopy of leaves. His eyes scanned warily over the twisting branches; at this angle, Kakashi noted that his resemblance to his mother Michiyo was remarkable; the same delicate features, the same dark eyes, even the same way the sunlight picked up the lighter brown strands of his hair.

Kakashi stared as if he was just now really seeing Iruka.

"Let's go," Iruka finally said, still gazing up as if he knew where Kakashi was concealed. "We have papers to grade."

Mizuki grumbled at this, but Iruka was already clambering onto the banking, pulling on his dark shirt, and searching in the pockets of his flak-jacket for a hair-tie before Mizuki was even halfway dressed. Finally, Mizuki set off running and launched himself into a nearby tree; Iruka threw one last suspicious gaze over his shoulder, and then he was off as well.

Kakashi smiled to himself, managing to glimpse the wet strands of Iruka's hair trying to escape the newly-instituted hair-tie before the two of them disappeared completely into the foliage. So, Iruka-sensei didn't mind kisses from other males, did he? Some things never change, eh, Ruka-chan?, he mused as he followed them, his grin widening all the time.

*

6. First Contact

Kakashi tried to tell himself that he was just trying to make Iruka forget that his friend-slash-former lover had been willing to see him die for a forbidden scroll. Really.

Unfortunately, Kakashi knew himself a bit too well.

He was really just doing it for the attention; namely, that of a certain dark-haired Chuunin who still had large, dark circles under his eyes, and would sit stiffly at the mission desk. Iruka's smile was still mostly in full effect, but it was now tinged with a kind of bitter confirmation of what life could deal a shinobi.

Kakashi found that he wasn't too into that slightly self-reproachful smile at all.

After Iruka got well enough to take up his duties again, Kakashi started the habit of staring at the scar which slashed right across Iruka's nose. No one liked being stared at for too long, and Kakashi knew he had developed a very unsettling way of gazing at people, kind of looking through them. It made persons very nervous, and certain highly-strung individuals tended to burst into tears. Maybe they wondered if he was using the Sharingan on them.

In any case, he would fix his eye on Iruka as he handed in his reports at the mission desk. Iruka would stare back, taking the crumpled ball of paper out of Kakashi's outstretched hand. Kakashi would narrow his eye contemplatively; depending on the mood he was in, Iruka would either narrow his eyes in return, annoyed, or simply flush red, flustered to the point of speechlessness.

Kakashi was always amused to see him blush.

One day, he caught sight of that scar wrinkling with the movement of Iruka's nose, an expression of deep horror at the state of Kakashi's current report.

"Not up to scratch, is it?" Kakashi asked teasingly. Iruka gave him a very steady stare before smiling sweetly. Kakashi tucked his Icha Icha into his pouch, and leaned so that one hip pressed against the edge of the long table.

"As soon as I manage to get it translated from gibberish," Iruka replied dryly, "I'm sure it will be quite sufficient, Kakashi-san." He said this without changing his smile, the slightly sharp tone juxtaposing with his expression. However, his smile was warming, and Kakashi grinned beneath his mask, strangely elated; not only did Iruka appear amused and relaxed (as far as Konoha ninja could relax, in any case) this was the first time in years that they had exchanged more than hello, Iruka-sensei and good day, Kakashi-san.

"I'll try to do better next time, Iruka-sensei," Kakashi purred and Iruka looked torn between blushing and scoffing.

"Promises, promises." He finally adopted a brisk tone he flattened Kakashi's report and read through it quickly. "I hear excuses like that nearly every day, Kakashi-san. And those promises are always broken."

"I don't break the important ones," Kakashi told him airily. "Besides, as you can see, I'm not an Academy student."

"That is a good thing for you." Iruka stamped the report, opened a blue folder and placed it in with fastidious care. "Or else I'd be allowed to pack you off to remedial classes, just to get your handwriting straightened out." He looked up at Kakashi with a very tiny smile. Kakashi had gone back to staring at his scar, grinning when a slight flush crept onto Iruka's cheeks, despite his attempts at appearing collected.

"Is there something on my face?" The teacher finally asked with frown; out of the corner of his eye, Kakashi could see his fingers twitch slightly, as if he wanted to move his hand and rub at his face... or maybe grab a kunai. Considering Iruka's infamous temper, the latter was a high possibility. Kakashi continued to stare, his visible eyebrow curved up as if he was inspecting a new jutsu and wanted to get it completely right.

"Get out of my way, Kakashi," Genma complained loudly behind Kakashi, and the relief on Iruka's face was palpable as Kakashi moved to the side.

"No, Iruka-sensei." Kakashi snapped out his book again and hid a mischievous grin behind it, sauntering back out of the mission room. "There isn't anything on your face but a lot of blushing. It's cute."

He was out in the hall quickly, but he could feel something akin to the Killing Intent warping the air in his wake.

Ah, yes. Now that was the Iruka everyone knew and loved. Kakashi gave himself about one hundred Awesome Points, Ichiban Shinobi of making people forget how much life sucked, by focusing on Kakashi's general weirdness; thoroughly pleased with himself, he buried his nose into Icha Icha, and sauntered off into the sunset.

*

7. First Date

"You should stop making Iruka-sensei so angry," Naruto pouted randomly, late one evening as they returned from a mission. "When he gets angry, sometimes he forgets to make dinner on time. Which is really bad, 'cause I'm a growing boy and I need a lot of ramen regularly. A lot."

"Ramen is not a complete source of necessary vitamins and minerals, I keep telling you," Kakashi warned absently, a well-known refrain. "You live with Iruka-sensei, right?" he continued in a casual manner, even though he already knew the answer.

"No. I live right next door, but he makes dinner for me and him. Except when you piss him off. Then he just spends a lot of time grumbling and throwing pots around and I starve."

"Oh, yes, that is all completely my fault," Kakashi said, his tone dripping with contrition, and Naruto shot him a very suspicious look. As a matter of fact, Sakura and Sasuke had turned around to stare at him in disbelief as well. "I should really go with you right now and... apologise for all of that."

"You don't have to!" Naruto exclaimed, but Kakashi was already waving at Sakura and Sasuke, sending them on their way before bustling off ahead of Naruto in the direction of the bachelors' flats. "If he sees your face, he'll forget all about finishing dinner for sure!"

"No one sees my face, Naruto, I wear a mask," Kakashi lectured with mock severity. "Now show me where Iruka-sensei lives. So I can apologise for, uh, upsetting him all the time." Setting off with a purpose that he didn't normally display, Kakashi paused once more in front of the flats and gave his fuming student a considering look.

"You think he's still mad about... you know." Kakashi made a vague gesture with his non-Icha Icha hand. "The whole Chuunin exam thing."

"What? No! Iruka-sensei isn't that kind of person!" Naruto defended loudly and then appeared to think about what he said after, a typical Naruto trait. "Well. I don't think so. Maybe not?"

"Hopefully!" Kakashi said with great cheer. "Lead the way, my frail young starving soul."

Muttering under his breath, Naruto thumped up a few flights of stairs. He paused in front of one door, pulling out a key on a chain from around his neck and faintly, Kakashi could hear Iruka inside, warbling some song in a surprisingly mellow tenor. He grinned; for a ninja, sometimes Iruka could be very transparent, singing about cherry-blossoms in the moonlight. Naruto scowled at Kakashi when he turned the key in the lock; he scowled when they removed their sandals in the small genkan. He scowled as he stomped off past the tiny bathroom area towards the kitchen.

"Iruka-sensei," Naruto bawled out as Kakashi peeped inside Iruka's shower without a hint of shame, "Iruka-sensei, don't be mad."

"What?" Iruka leaned back out of the kitchen space and blinked at Kakashi, who gave him a little wave and a bright, squinty-eyed grin. Iruka was still in his work-clothes, sans the flak-jacket; but his hair was down from the high ponytail, caught up loosely at the nape of his neck instead. Damp wisps of it stuck against his cheek and neck. Kakashi really liked that look on him. A lot.

"Oh. Hello, Kakashi-sensei. If you would... excuse us?" Iruka reached out a hand and snagged Naruto by the collar, reeling him out of sight like a large unruly fish. There was a series of sharp mutters and then Naruto burst out, "But he followed me!"

Iruka hissed, "What kind of shinobi are you growing to be, that you can't throw off someone tailing you. I taught you better than that," to which Naruto grumbled, "It's kind of hard to throw him off when he's right on your heels."

"Mmm, something smells delicious," Kakashi called, settling at the kotatsu with uninvited grace. From here, he could see into the long, narrow kitchen quite easily. Iruka had a pot steaming, but he had been busy trying to shake some kind of sense into Naruto. "That last mission you gave us was really hard, Iruka-sensei. I actually think you did it on purpose, to get me out of your face for awhile."

"I'm sure you're quite mistaken, Kakashi-san." Iruka released Naruto abruptly and tucked the stray strands of hair away from his face, reaching towards a cupboard over the sink.

"I thought you came to apologise," Naruto said pointedly, taking the plates that Iruka handed to him. He went right back into glowering at Kakashi as he set the places haphazardly. "For making Iruka-sensei upset all the time."

"Oh, most certainly." Kakashi eyed Iruka, who had suddenly fumbled with the serving-pot before he placed it in the middle of the table. "Iruka-sensei, I am very sorry for upsetting you so that you forget to make dinner on time. Because you really need to feed Naruto, he's a growing boy."

"He's a bottomless pit, is what he is," Iruka mumbled, and motioned with his chin at the steaming food. "Well. Eat. And no, Naruto, it's not ramen, you can't have that all the time."

"And I think I have other things to apologise for," Kakashi continued over Naruto's half-hearted complaints, toying with his food as Naruto went at it with a sort of savagery usually reserved for battles. "From before."

"What the hell is he talking about?" Naruto asked through a mouthful of food. "He sounds like a crazy person. I said Iruka-sensei wouldn't be mad over the Chuunin exam stuff, didn't I?"

Iruka shushed him absently; he stared at Kakashi with his head tilted a little, as if Kakashi was a difficult child in his classroom, one who had some obscure reason to resist Iruka's lessons. His dark eyes bored into Kakashi's, searching out some answer and then he shrugged, reaching for his utensils.

"I guess you had your reasons," he finally concluded in an offhand tone, but he still continued to flick that questioning gaze at Kakashi as he served out a generous helping for himself, and even plopped some more on Naruto's plate. And whereas Kakashi was pleased with Iruka's answer, Naruto appeared thoroughly confused at their cryptic conversation.

"Now you're the one talking like a crazy person, Iruka-sensei," he mumbled and Iruka thumped him solidly on the back of the head.

*

8. First Night

After the solemn ceremony for the Sandaime, he had watched the sensei walk with Konohamaru-kun along the rain-slick, cobbled streets. Iruka's face had been distant, but he had tilted his head and smiled bracingly when the unusually subdued child looked up at him and asked a question. Iruka had nodded in response, and as Kakashi watched from a high roof, had continued to walk with Konohamaru to towards the Sarutobi family complex.

He remained there as Iruka came back out, watching the dark head with that now-drooping ponytail. He slid off the roof and landed lightly in front of him, not knowing why he needed to look in his face. He found himself cataloguing those expressive eyes and that equally expressive mouth, both full of mourning for their fallen leader. There were shadows under his eyes and the scar seemed to stand out against his pallor.

"Kakashi-san," Iruka said wearily, and gave him a polite bow before trying to step around him. Kakashi caught his elbow in a loose grip, feeling his arm tense at the sudden movement. Iruka gave him a wide-eyed stare, but he nodded slowly when Kakashi asked if he could accompany him home.

"Tea?" Iruka asked as they entered his apartment. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

The rain that had marked the remembrance of the Third was now returning, quiet patters that did nothing to conceal Iruka's steady, careful footsteps as he returned with a tray. He smiled at Kakashi as he settled down on the low seat across from him, placing the tray and motioning for Kakashi to go ahead. Kakashi put too much honey in his cup, because he was looking at Iruka's face, anchoring himself in that familiar line that bisected his face.

"You... you're staring," Iruka noted, his tone slightly unsettled and Kakashi shrugged, sipping his overly sweet tea through his mask. "I'm nothing much to look at, you know."

"Are you fishing for compliments, sensei?" Kakashi wanted to tease, but it had been a long day; it came out flat, as if he sighed it more than said it. Iruka still flushed and shook his head, but he did not break their gaze.

Even when Kakashi set his cup down on the low table between them and reached across to rub the fingers of his left hand across the scar, Iruka sat still and let him. When Kakashi cupped his cheek briefly, feeling the presence of a light stubble and the way Iruka's hair whispered against the back of his hand, Iruka turned his head and pressed his mouth against Kakashi's skin, his lips dragging against that fleshy part under Kakashi's thumb, breath warm against the lines and numerous scars that spelt destruction in Kakashi's palm. This was the palm that generated a crackling ball of lightning to kill people... and Iruka had kissed it almost reverently. Kakashi felt like he was holding his breath.

When Kakashi stood up, leaving the tea behind, Iruka got to his feet as well, taking Kakashi by the hand and leading him to the bedroom. He closed the screens with an almost mechanical air, cool and detached, but he was warm and pliant when Kakashi seized him around his neck and waist, pulling him close to just rest his forehead in the curve of Iruka's neck. He just wanted to stand here for a moment, to smell Iruka's skin, make sure that they were both still alive.

Iruka's hands were gentle as they began to sneak under Kakashi's clothes, stroking over the skin of his back as he pulled the long-sleeved black shirt up. Kakashi pulled back and raised his arms, then returned the favour with Iruka's own shirt; they slowly undressed each other; Kakashi watched Iruka's gaze trace up and down his body appreciatively, and tried to straighten up out of his usual slouch.

He stepped close after he tossed Kakashi's trousers and underwear into a corner; miles of bronzed skin pressed against Kakashi's as he pinched the material of the mask at Kakashi's chin, and began to pull it away. He did so slowly, giving Kakashi a chance to protest, to stop him, but Kakashi stood still.

As soon as the mask had been drawn down to reveal Kakashi's mouth, Iruka kissed him deeply, licking his way into Kakashi's mouth when he parted his lips. Kakashi stumbled back, surprised and then rallied back. They stumbled around the room, panting and moaning as they kissed wildly; Kakashi's foot hooked into something, bringing them both down. He used one hand to slam flat against the floor, stopping himself from crashing on top of Iruka, one arm still wrapped tight around his lower back.

Iruka had also braced himself, body held stiff in Kakashi's arms before he relaxed against the ground. He pulled the mask from around Kakashi's neck, tossing it away as well, and then tugged the forehead-protector from over Kakashi's Sharingan.

For a long moment, he seemed to be entranced by the black swirls in the red pupil, turning slowly. Then he touched Kakashi's chin again, fingers strong against his skin, and murmured, "Will you make me forget that the Sandaime is dead?"

Impossible, the analytical section of Kakashi's brain concluded swiftly, that part of him that deducted and planned; he squinted his Sharingan shut and considered Iruka's mourning eyes as he stroked one hand through the soft dark fall of hair.

"I'll try my best," was all he said aloud, and kissed Iruka again. "I promise."

*

9. First Breakup

Kakashi squared his shoulders and proceeded to harden his heart. He had to do this; for Iruka's safety, for his own peace of mind, he had create boundaries between them. Draw lines. Push him away as far as possible.

Again? a small voice emanated from deep inside his mind, that which seemed to belong to a little boy that only wanted to love someone, just wanted to hold 'Ruka-chan's hand as they walked slowly around the back of the Umino yard, inspecting the tall flowers and enjoying the sweet sunlight.

Yes, again. Adult-Kakashi was convinced at the necessity of this as he brutally buried that memory. The world was a dangerous place; the odds of Kakashi being killed in the line of duty were very high. He just... didn't want to hurt Iruka, but he would have to, in order to keep him safe.

So he would let them go. It was essential. Kakashi might look like a lazy, tricky kind of person who would rather read Icha Icha all day than concern himself with the running and protection of Konoha, but he took his duties very seriously. He was very surprised at the ease in which Iruka had wriggled his way close to the great Sharingan no Kakashi's heart. It was distracting, to say the very least.

He had always loved Iruka; he had known this, it was one of his deepest secrets, an almost alien truth that seemed to dwell between them. It made Kakashi squirm inside; what would a killer know about love? It seemed that it was very easy for Iruka to love; the more he loved, the more love he had to give. Look at how he treated Naruto, with a mixture of encouraging protectiveness and amused pride; Kakashi found that nothing short of miraculous.

For his part, Kakashi found that he hoarded his love, and would only dole it out meanly. It was just his nature to be that self-protective. Except he gave all he could to Iruka, and the sensei knew that; Kakashi didn't need the Sharingan to see this in his eyes, and if Iruka was reaching this conclusion, then how hard would it be for Kakashi's enemies to do the same? Then Iruka would be a very easy target. So he had to choose, just like he had always chosen in battle; sometimes the necessary decisions hurt. But they were shinobi. They would survive this.

"Hello," Iruka greeted him with a big smile as he leaped from the tree above. This was 'their' spot, a secluded area near a fairly wide stream, a few chains outside of Konoha. Iruka had already placed a myriad of fine chakra wires all about, to alert them to anyone sneaking up on their position. There was only one small opening in this net of traps that Kakashi himself knew of. "How are you?"

He had removed his shirt, browning even more in the warm summer day; he tipped back his head and looked up at Kakashi's face, still smiling broadly.

"Hello," Kakashi answered shortly, ignoring that part of him that itched to kneel and press his mouth to Iruka's, to taste the berries he was happily munching on from the small basket at his side. Kakashi gazed around at the burbling stream, and pulled off his shirt as well. He would probably burn, and maybe Iruka could smear on some of that soothing gel and laugh while his capable hands stroked between Kakashi's shoulder-blades--

No. That was not the way it would go.

"What's wrong?" Iruka's eyes were concerned when Kakashi met them briefly. "Kakashi?"

"The life of a shinobi is one of great hardship," Kakashi began seriously, a far cry from his usual careless drawl. He actually had to take a mental stance very close to his ANBU mindframe. Ruthless; he had to be ruthless. "You never know when you might lose the one you--" he broke off and tightened his lips. "Someone important to you. Keeping close bonds isn't really a good thing, for even though it guarantees your dedication to your country, it also takes your emotions and--"

"Are you breaking up with me?" Iruka interrupted calmly and popped another berry into his mouth. Kakashi blinked and turned to stare at him. Iruka gazed back at him with clear, untroubled eyes.

"Yes." Kakashi's voice was firm as he looked away again. He would give no quarter, not even if Iruka begged. Or even cried... not that Iruka would cry, Iruka would definitely not let himself go to that (even though he had admitted crying over Naruto once, but he figured that the giant shuriken in his back might have contributed to that) but Kakashi had to prepare for any kind of emotional response... even though Iruka was being dreadfully level about all this.

"Hmm." Iruka was now munching on an apple. "I see."

Firm. Strong. Calm. Kakashi resolved be all these and more, it was necessary; but this resolution began to melt away like ice in the summer sun: when the sudden silence dragged on, he chanced a quick look at Iruka, who had his head bent, face hidden from Kakashi's view; his fingers were plucking morosely at a few blades of grass.

"Iruka." Kakashi was at his side in a moment, cupping his chin. "Iru--"

Iruka grabbed his wrist and Kakashi suddenly found himself flying through the air; he landed in the water and was about ten feet below the surface when he started to muse on the way Iruka managed to make him drop his guard. This was exactly the kind of thing he was trying to avoid, seriously.

The bright sunlight filtering down through the water was eclipsed by Iruka's slim form diving in after him. Kakashi watched him bemusement; Iruka was a far better swimmer than he was, and just for throwing him the water, Iruka would have to rescue him; childishly, Kakashi wished himself to be heavy as possible. See if he liked that. He continued to hold his breath and let himself sink as Iruka swam determinedly down to his position.

Idiot, Iruka mouthed at him as soon as he got close and kissed him thoroughly, bubbles escaping from between their lips. Kakashi kissed him back, licking at his tongue and swallowing a lot of fresh water. Iruka grabbed him underneath his armpits (Kakashi squirmed, he was ticklish) and hauled him back up with strong kicks.

Kakashi spat a stream of water in his face as soon as they surfaced and Iruka placed his hands on top of Kakashi's head, dunking him once more.

"You're an idiot," he reiterated as they tread water. "I know about the life of a shinobi. I don't know if you've noticed, but I am one. Not everyone can be the great Copy-nin, but... close bonds are very important to have. You're stronger for having them," he finished, almost lamely.

Kakashi stared at the way the water dripped from his hair and his eyelashes, entranced as always.

"I know about the dangers," Iruka continued in firmer tones and gave him a glare that was very useful for making small trouble-makers forget about their dastardly duties. "Don't you think I've ever thought about them? I do, all the time. And... and I still choose you. You're insane and I worry myself sick every time you're away, but if you want to break up, I suggest you find better reasons than those. You've always been so stupid," he finished under his breath. "If you think I'll let you continue as if you have no sense, obviously you don't know me very--"

"Trying to drown me," Kakashi pointed out. "That's a good reason." He grinned at Iruka's hard glare, suddenly feeling quite light-hearted. Iruka would not let him go; ah well, he would have to make do with that, since Iruka was more stubborn than an Akita, and liable to make an attempt at beating sense into Kakashi.

Even though he normally would not catch Kakashi to do so, but he would still make a very game effort at it. This was Iruka, after all.

"You're stuck with me," Iruka declared and struck out for shore. "Deal with it."

"Fine," Kakashi called at his retreating form. "But you have to finish rescuing me, Iruka-sensei!"

*

10. First Last

Kakashi tried to breathe, but the burning air scorched his lungs; friends and compatriots were falling around him as the battle raged, and his Sharingan throbbed painfully. In a few moments, he would be useless, and one of their enemies would slowly drag their bloodied sword across his neck.

Kakashi clenched his fist, feeling the lightning flicker against his fingers. Let them come. Sharingan No Kakashi, son of the White Fang, last of the Hatake clan, would take them. Take them all to hell.

He let his glance slip to one side and the lightning stuttered in his palm.

"No," someone moaned in a torn, heartbroken voice, and Kakashi realised that it was himself. His concentration slipped and his chakra seemed to drain right out of his body, leaving him swaying. His Iruka was lying on the ground, bloody chest heaving fitfully, eyes open and going blank.

"Iruka." He didn't know how he got on his knees right next to Iruka, hands moving his cold arms. "Iruka."

"It's okay," Iruka whispered, and blood bubbled up past his lips. "It's okay."

"It's not." Kakashi curled over, trying to bend and gather him in his arms, but he was weakening. He only managed to press his face against the remains of Iruka's jacket, feeling warm blood smear against his cheek. "I... I love you."

"I love you." Iruka's voice seemed to have a smile in it. "Kakashi. Wake up."

Kakashi thrashed, but someone was holding him back. He came awake fully, both eyes wide open as he gripped at Iruka's arms. The Sharingan pulled at his chakra hungrily, and something slipped over his face; he nearly snapped Iruka's wrist before he realised it was the small eyepatch Iruka had purchased for him, worn whenever he went to sleep. It must have slipped off during his struggles.

"Want some water?" Iruka asked, and slipped out of bed without waiting for the answer. Kakashi wiped at his forehead with the back of his hand and adjusted the eyepatch, then spent a few moments rearranging the pillows so he could get a cool side. He was completely composed when Iruka returned, and accepted the glass with a thankful murmur.

"Do you want to talk about your nightmare?" Iruka asked as he settled back into bed, pulling back the light sheet over their bodies. It was the middle of summer, and the boiling heat of the day continued to simmer through the night.

Kakashi hesitated before answering, placing the empty glass on the floor beside the futon. "We were in a battle. I watched you die," he said bluntly, and tightened his lips. Iruka was silent for a long moment.

"And it was awful for you." His voice was almost emotionless. Kakashi turned his head on the pillow and focused on the pale lines of his face in the dark.

"Yes. Because it's not impossible. Something like that can happen."

"I know."

The silence spread out again, longer this time, slipping heavy fingers over the folded heaps of their clothes and the stacks of Icha Icha and reference books on the narrow desk that they shared. Kakashi had not been aware that living with someone could be so easy. Granted, some people in the community still gave them long, disapproving stares, because there was no such thing as a secret in a hidden village.

Once, he had been summoned to the Hokage's office due to an anonymous complaint at their 'unnatural relationship'. Tsunade had stared at Kakashi with grumpy, golden eyes and said, "Are you hurting anyone? No? Are you abandoning your duties? No? Then get going. I have other things to do. Stupid people, wasting my time. One of my best shinobi, of course he's unnatural! If they want to see a crazy Hatake," she fumed, "then maybe they should try taking that little Academy sensei away from you. This place would probably implode or something." She had suddenly appeared deeply intrigued at that prospect. "Hmm. That might not be such a bad idea..."

But living with Iruka was good. Kakashi liked it. They argued at lot (mostly started by Kakashi because he liked the making-up parts), and there were times where one or both of them were too tired or too injured for sex, but he liked it; in a life like his, one had to take all the comforts one could get, and he was grabbing on with both hands.

He felt Iruka's fingers thread through his and he squeezed quickly.

"Yes, it can happen." Iruka was speaking very carefully, and Kakashi inhaled deeply, and exhaled. "We can't do anything to change those possibilities."

Kakashi just squeezed his fingers again. He didn't want to think about it, but Iruka would probably muse over it all night; it was just his way of dealing with those thoughts.

"You said you loved me," Iruka murmured and Kakashi froze. He... had he said those words aloud? Iruka laughed, low and delighted. "It's okay. I won't use it against you. Not for now, anyway."

"I--"

"Relax." Iruka let go of his hand, and snuggled up against his side. His hair ticked Kakashi's nose and he smoothed down the wayward strands, then ran his hand over Iruka's warm shoulder and arm. Briefly, he pressed his palm flat against Iruka's chest. No blood. Just his heart, beating strong. He was relieved beyond explanation, even though his nightmare was over, and he pulled Iruka even closer.

"Love is like a kunai," Iruka said abstractly. What did that even mean, Kakashi wondered. "If I die tomorrow," Iruka continued a very dream-like voice, mouth moving against Kakashi's skin. "Then I know that kunai will always be a part of you, and you can use it. Right? Use it to survive. The same way I would, too."

"Only a shinobi would use a kunai as a metaphor for love," Kakashi whispered half-mockingly; Iruka's body moved against his as he laughed, and then he seemed to fall asleep in that enviably rapid way he had.

Kakashi held him, and said against the curve of his ear, "Your metaphor is really crappy. But I get it."

"Good," Iruka muttered suddenly, startling Kakashi. "Now go to sleep."

fin

*

AN: Thanks for reading! I appreciate it; your comments and critique are welcome.