"Take one more week, that's all I'm asking. You just sit tight and don't rush it. No need to push yourself too soon."

"You're wearing me out. Go home."

"But..."

"Rai. I'm fine," Genma said, possibly for the fifth time since they'd bellied up to the bar. He'd lost count.

"You've been overdoing it!"

"I had to get back into shape. I was so far out of condition I wouldn't have survived a C-rank. You think they'll just ease me back in? There's a huge backlog."

"Say something anyway! They should give you more time."

"Don't start up again. Get a grip, man. Look, I'm sorry this was so traumatic for you, but everything that happened is all in the past now, okay?"

"Are you shitting me? Think about what you'd decided to do to yourself! It's not like you changed your mind, somebody intervened! It was traumatic for you, too!"

"Maybe, but apparently I had some magical healer-bunny fix it for me. I'm all good. I'm looking at the bonehead who needs to take it easy."

"Just hold back a week so I can be on the roster, too. If I go out in the field with you then it's fine. I'll be able to tell if you're doing okay or if you need to abort."

"Hold up just a second. You need a reality check. You can't actually believe that you belong on active duty while you're this strung out. They told you to watch out for anything odd in your perception or behavior. You think you're gonna get cleared to go out in just a week? You get that you're not making sense, right? Did you read your own chart, even once? That was some massive fucking head trauma, it is not healing up in a week."

"They cleared me already."

"No they didn't. You were released to start recuperating at home, because you were so damned insistent, otherwise you'd still be in the hospital. It's been weeks since I got out and I've been cleared for full rehab. That's way different and you know it."

Gai cleared his throat to announce his proximity.

"Gentlemen, it's truly grand to see you here. But can it be that I'm sensing some unpleasant point of contention?" He'd approached to congratulate them belatedly on their release from the infirmary, but once he got closer, the discord was obvious.

"Loaded question," Genma sighed, swirling the amber liquid and melting ice with his finger.

"He's not being careful enough!" Raidou blurted, getting a raised hand in his face to hush him.

"Stop with the weirdness," Gen growled. "This isn't any fun. I'm not coming out with you anymore if you're just going to whine the whole time."

"Now, now," Gai tutted, sliding onto the barstool next to Raidou. "Concern for one's fellow man may seem cloying but I know your noble hearts are in the right place. What is our friend here doing there that lacks caution?"

"He's going back on active duty."

"I see. He appears to the casual eye to be quite well now."

"I am well. I've had down time. That's not the real issue here."

"You're not well! You couldn't be. And no one knows who took you away, or why. What if they come after you again?"

"Did they hurt me, Rai? Or did they help me? Why should I live in fear of someone that restored me to health, just because they didn't want to take the credit? They let me go, hell, they actually dropped me off at my doorstep, who or whatever they are. I assume they could have just kept me or dumped me or even killed me if they wanted to instead, without nearly as much risk. No one was even looking for me anymore."

"I was!"

"You, yeah, of course, but it made sense that everyone else had written me off. Whoever took me was home free. They'd already gotten away with it. I can't even fathom why they would hazard bringing me back here. But I'm glad they did, and I don't intend to waste my energy being all paranoid about it."

Gai leaned forward to make sure he had Genma's direct eye contact.

"This might be the sort of heart-rending experience that takes the superlative patience and manly understanding of a dedicated friend to guide one through."

Gen sighed. I wasn't fair to Rai to get irritated with him over his difficulty coming to terms with everything this crazy situation had put him through. He was recovering, too, and he really didn't seem to be himself.

"I'm not going to disappear again. Okay? I'm not sick like I was, so nobody's going to be able to cart me off without a trace. No one ever did before. What is wrong with you, man? You're worrying too much over nothing."

"It wasn't nothing from my standpoint!"

"I'm sorry. I know you went through a lot. But you need to chill the fuck out. Hell, not two days ago you were all happy and closing down the bar with me and tonight you're a total wreck, we can't even get through one drink without having to bail."

"Of course I was happy, I was crazy happy, I didn't think we'd ever share a night out again! It's not my fault they made this stupid decision to put you at risk, and the fact that you're too worried about your reputation to say anything to stop it!"

"It is your goddamned fault, because the way you're acting right now isn't even close to normal, and you won't go report it and get help, and you go ape shit when I tell you that you need to get looked at again before it gets worse!"

"Gentlemen!" Gai broke in. "Perhaps it would be wise to relocate this discussion to a more private venue."

"I'm not the one going out in the field too soon!" Raidou blundered on, totally ignoring Gai.

"True. Exactly. Get it? You're not getting a mission assignment in the foreseeable future. On purpose. Because they know that you're the one who's not safe to return to duty. It's because you're the one who still needs help!"

"Stop saying that!" Raidou choked.

Gai stood up and stepped in between them. He sensed that Raidou was approach a state of uncontrolled anxiety in worry over his friend, and that this could only go further wrong if it continued.

"I don't think it is the case that you've failed to make your point," Gai said to Genma with a hard stare. Last chance. Miraculous revival from the dead or not, if he didn't stop upsetting Raidou, who obviously was in bad shape and through no fault of his own unable to regain his composure, Gai was going to get serious and make him stop.

Gen met his stare and it seemed for a moment that he was going to react angrily to the interference.

But he caught his breath and slowly nodded before slamming his drink down and shifting his stare to the worn varnish atop the bar.

"I'm not 100% but I will be all right. I'm sorry, Rai. I don't want you to worry. I'm just worried about you."

"Perhaps being shy of 100% has caused you to be less receptive to his plight," Gai proposed.

"See? He's right! This isn't like you, either!"

"Rai..."

"It isn't. You haven't been yourself. You don't even see it. I can't even explain it."

"Shit." Genma frowned. He was actually...kind of right about that. He hadn't been himself, but he wasn't sick, and he figured if he just powered through, he find his footing soon enough. "It doesn't matter. I passed the checkup and they're sending me out."

"Noble friends," Gai said quietly. "I have had the pleasure of your company on many nights. Your lovable banter has always cheered and amused me to no end. Respectfully, even from this brief encounter, I find myself troubled by your atypical behavior as well. As your senior I have an obligation to report my concerns; for your own preservation and welfare."

Heavy silence greeted him as the two men shared a look.

"Please don't," Rai said reluctantly. "We can handle this."

Genma was more direct.

"You can't do that. If you say anything...look, I'm going to be frank. We've already been put on notice for being one another's weak spots. We came very close to being placed off limits to each other outside of official duty as it was. All we'd need is some third party reporting a problem about our behavior together and that'd be it."

"It's just a stupid little beef, that's all," Rai chimed in quickly. "Look, we'll call it a day and go work this out somewhere else, all right?"

"Gentlemen, it is not my intent to create additional strife. And it's not that your disagreement is disturbing the peace. But I must be cautious where the well-being of my fellow shinobi is concerned. If I turn my head and one of you is gravely injured, I will have failed you in every way."

"If I get injured, it's not gonna be because of your head turning. And he's not going to be doing anything more hazardous than sipping hot liquids and pissing me off for quite a while."

"He's right. Gai, we're sorry, we shouldn't be having our little spats in public. We...we have 'em all the time, it's no big deal. Right, Gen? We fight like crazy in private, sometimes, and nobody knows it. So of course it seems odd to you," Raidou said, embellishing shamelessly, because he really couldn't remember any fight of substance except the one they were having right now.

"You'd be doing us more harm than good for sure."

"I see," Gai said stiffly. This was not a position he wanted to be in. Yet he could not destroy their precious relationship given such heartfelt pleas, conveyed not half so much in their words as by their eyes. "I shall bow to your request, thought I must admit that I still harbor reservations."

"Great! You're awesome, Gai! Hey, Rai, we better scoot, it's getting late!"

"Thanks again, Gai, and sorry for the misunderstanding!"

The bartender wandered over polishing a glass, watching the two men flee with a bemused expression.

"I hope you plan to drink enough to make up for chasing them off."

"With apologies," Gai said as he pushed in the vacated stools, "it turns out that I am not in the mood for a beverage after all."

xxx

"I could tell that you wanted to leave as soon as we got there anyway," Raidou murmured when the barroom door thumped shut behind them.

"Oh, man," Genma groaned. "That isn't it."

"I can get home by myself."

"Well, I don't care. I'm walking you. And we're going this way."

Raidou bit his lower lip and let Genma pull him along, that strong, familiar arm around his waist to keep him stable.

"I don't want to lose you again."

Genma didn't reply. He just sped up his pace, increasing the physical support so Rai would be able to keep up without discomfort.

They made to Genma's front door, and Raidou shrugged off his arm with a kind of breathless, almost frightened look that made his heart stutter.

"I can make it home from here," he said, so tense it came out an octave higher than his normal tone.

Genma knew the words meant nothing. The last thing Rai wanted was to leave; but for some reason he was unable to admit that. As if he thought Gen wanted him to go, and it was tearing him up too much to have to hear the words, so he said them himself.

They hadn't had this kind of exchange since they first figured out that they might want to get together but had no idea yet if the feeling was mutual.

"If you don't come in on your own, I'll drag you."

Raidou swallowed and stepped in, the room swimming with the excess water in his eyes. He felt as afraid for Gen's well-being as he had when he was lost. As scared of being left alone as he had been waiting outside during his attempt to end his life. It didn't feel like he was back and safe; it didn't feel like anything had been resolved at all.

His heart shivered and ached as if the loss was still real.

"I'm sorry," Genma said, consciously shedding his usual attitude and embracing his poor friend right where they stood, without lust, without any real thought or plan other than the need to make him realize that he saw how much this was hurting him. "I should have listened. I guess I didn't want to see you feeling bad so I kept trying to ignore it until you felt better. But that's part of what's making it worse. Isn't it?"

"I know that you're here, but..." Raidou managed.

"Maybe I really haven't been. But I am now." He held tight, with no intention of letting go until Raidou got the message. It wasn't long before he was being held, too, tentatively at first, then a little harder, until he was clutched so tight it hurt a bit.

But he patiently waited through that phase, too, and when Rai seemed to be drooping against him more than standing, he pulled back to get a look.

How awful it would have been, if the roles had been reversed, he suddenly realized. The concept was so difficult he'd purposely avoided imagining it.

But that wasn't fair. Not if he was going to give any meaningful support.

Imagine, the reality of never again seeing a smile on that familiar, uniquely scarred face. Of knowing ahead of time he was leaving him of his own volition. Then the hell of not knowing. And missing him all along. With no one else keeping the faith. Running afoul of the rules in desperation. Getting hurt, getting caught, getting abused for your loyalty.

In light of that, the heartlessness of his behavior since Rai got out of the hospital should have been unforgivable.

Angry at himself, he found that he actually had a whole truckload of ideas dawning on him now, as to what might help, and what Rai needed.

Reassurance and attention being the first, best candidates. Gen wasn't very tender by nature, but where Rai was concerned he sometimes felt it inside, and now was the time to trot out his best efforts in that regard.

"I need to go home," Raidou said, head turned away and up, voice tight and breaking.

"No way. Get that damned vest off. Here."

He had the man half stripped before he realized that, while the intent was to swiftly undress him to the point where it was obvious that he should give up on trying to go home or anywhere else tonight, he'd been too hasty.

Down to bare skin from the waist up, his footwear smacked off, and now with his friend abruptly opening the front of his fatigue pants preparing to yank them down, Raidou became confused enough to rise out of his pain and focus on what the hell Genma thought he was doing.

"Wait...what is this...you mean you just wanted to fu-"

"What? No!" Genma blurted, cutting him off. "Well, I mean it's not like 'hell no', sure maybe, if you want to, but no! Not primarily, anyway!"

Raidou stared and Genma gaped back, stepping away, feeling incredibly stupid as he started stripping off his own street clothes and wondering if that was really going to make this any less awkward. "Just finish getting comfortable because I want you to stay here!"

He tossed Rai a pair of walking shorts and they ended up dressed like bookends, same shorts, no shirts, bare feet. The atmosphere grew a little calmer once they were in their usual hang-out wear and they settled in the living room with a just a single lamp providing a familiar, warm glow.

"That hip still hurt you?" Raidou asked finally once they were sitting side-by-side, lightly tapping the footlocker that passed for a table with his bare toe.

Genma's brow creased. He hadn't paid attention to it. Given all of the serious issues around the time his memory cut off, the severe pain in his hip had become largely irrelevant back then, but he hadn't noticed any discomfort since his return. Of course, he hadn't been active that much yet, either.

"Not lately."

"Maybe they fixed that, too."

"I dunno. Probably never know. Could be that it would have been better by now anyway. Might start up again once I put some strain on it."

The room grew quiet again. He almost regret interrupting Rai's moment there, when he was breaking down and asked to leave. It would have been a lot easier to make him talk about it. Now he was starting to regain his composure, which was good, except that he was starting to clam up, opting for safer subjects.

Genma wasn't sure if they'd be able to get things out in the open if he didn't push it now. Not just because of Rai; but because he didn't trust himself to try and face this head-on later. If they made a decent go of pretending things would just be fine with time, neither one of them would probably want to rock the boat by tearing into these wounds again.

"What was it, Rai?" he asked. "What had you so upset that you wanted to leave?"

Rai's hands twisted together, his knuckles whitening.

"You already know. I'm okay now."

"I really don't know. I don't remember. I've heard the general story. But you haven't told me what went down. Tell me what it is that's getting to you so much."

"If you heard the story then you know what happened."

"Generally. But if you give me the details it'll be easier for me to understand why it's still upsetting you."

"Are you kidding me?" Raidou cried, kicking the footlocker and sending it halfway across the room before jumping up to loom over Genma with reddening eyes. "Is it that hard to understand? The general story doesn't do it for you? Okay, try this! I was there when the Hokage granted your formal request to fucking kill yourself! And even though it's the last damned thing I ever wanted to do, I got all the things you needed and I helped you set up the ritual! I wrote your last words for you. Did you know that? You told me what to put and you know, shit, there I am, I'm on my knees, like an idiot, forming those characters, trying to make the shapes without thinking about the meaning because it was..."

He had to stop and force the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying like hell not to lose it, at least not yet, to at least get out as much as he could first.

"We said goodbye forever. I forced myself to turn my back and walk away and leave you alone even though it was the last time..." he didn't try to complete that sentence either; swallowing hard he managed to start again. "Then I stood there doing nothing for like a fucking lifetime, right outside, knowing what you were in there doing, knowing I could have stopped you and screaming inside the whole time. But it gets even better. Did you know I kept insisting that you let me help you? Do you know how sure I was that if you had to do it, I should help, so you wouldn't suffer as much? What if you'd let me? What if you'd listened? I would have stolen all this from you. I would have fucking killed you with my own hands, it'd be my fault that you're not here today..."

Genma stood and grabbed him, unable to sit still anymore; maybe it was better to just listen but the pain was so overwhelming he had to act.

"I put you through hell, and you're feeling guilty because of the position I put you in?"

Their eyes locked, and deep, deep down in Genma's heart, Raidou's experience began to resonate.

"I didn't save you, Gen," he said grimly. "I gave up like I was helpless. Look at you. There's no excuse. It's pretty obvious now that you weren't beyond hope. I was wrong to go along with the whole thing. I didn't try hard enough."

"You kept trying more than anyone! Look at the shit you got in, searching for me!"

"Searching for you because I was sure you were out there alive and damn it, if I truly believed you were so bad off that you were justified in ending your life, enough that I helped you try to do it, how does that even make sense? It doesn't! It proves that I knew it was wrong for you to commit the act and I was too much of a coward to face it and try to stop you! Every decision I made was wrong. Every fork in the road, every choice, every time, I was wrong, wrong, wrong! Someone else had to step in to save you! I don't know how to live with that now. I want you to trust me but I don't deserve it. I don't even trust me and I'm scared that you'll...we'll..."

"Whoa, whoa, easy. I trust you, that's not even a question. Sit back down before you fall down."

Gen tugged on his arm and Rai went down without a fight, folding into the unexpected embrace with his hands over his eyes.

"Ah, my head really hurts."

"I knew it. I'm not trying to trivialize what you went through, but Rai, the way you're acting, this really doesn't seem right. We need to get you checked out."

"They'll add to my off-duty time."

"They should!" Gen frowned, helping Rai rock forward and back a little as he tried to get a handle on the nauseating ache in in his head. "Okay, how about this? I haven't faked being sick to get out of something since I was genin, but tell you what. I'll go in and claim my hip is killing me again. I'll ask for that extra week. And then we're going to spend every day of it working through this right here until you get sick of looking at me."

As Raidou's hand lowered, Gen met his raised eyebrows with a stern warning.

"But you go to the infirmary, too. Separately, of course. You have to go in and tell them your head's been hurting and get another examination. Deal?"

Gen watched him grimace and turn away, losing steam.

"Deal," he managed, worn out, hurting, thick fog rolling to replace the anger and panic that was draining away.

"All right, it's settled. I'm not letting you go back on your word. I know you weren't planning on it but you're sleeping here tonight. Come on, you're on your last legs, let's get you in bed."

Gen sat in the semi-darkness, listening, unable to relax at all until Raidou was asleep. He'd been paging furiously through the complications they were facing and the more he thought about it, things were worse than he'd assumed, not better. It was a safe bet that if it wasn't for the medication and the alcohol – and man, they'd been way too careless letting him drink at all, considering what he'd been taking – Rai would still be bolt upright and in knots.

There was no question that he intended to wade in and make sure Raidou was going to be all right. But this was the hardest situation he'd ever had to face in their relationship.

They were pretty much equal partners in everything. They yanked each other up when they fell down. They expressed affection with elbow jabs and rough hugs on the fly, and their intimacy was not tender. Neither one felt that the other had some soft squishy side that needed their protection. They slapped bandages on each others' wounds and rushed them in for care, not with hand-wringing or fear, but with confidence that they would be fine, because they fully believed in each other's abilities and strength.

This condition, this suffering, was something different altogether. Whatever the cause, Rai was damaged, hurting, unable to protect himself. He needed help. That might not be so awful if the kind of help he needed was obvious, because Gen would get it for him no matter what.

He was torn as to the right way to fix this. He did need an examination, to see if he was having complications from the head injury. But the emotional side of it was something else again. Even if he could get Rai to cooperate and spill his guts to some psyche-nin, what he got in return from the system might not be what was in his best interest. It would be whatever was in the system's best interest. They were awfully damned good at picking people apart. Putting them back together, not so much.

He took in a sharp breath as realization hit him. This was the same sort of agony Rai must have gone through in dealing with his neurosarcoidosis, only Rai's stress was far worse, because his incurable illness had been so devastating and frightening and Rai's efforts would all have been hopeless and futile. He was just getting a taste of it, but Rai had suffered with it for months, and he still was.

Rai's perception of Genma had changed, just as his was now changing when he looked at Rai, seeing his vulnerability and in turn feeling a desperate need to protect him.

It opened his eyes to the gut-rattling impact of that perspective. Yet the disturbing insight gave him a little boost in confidence, because the odd behavior wasn't such a total mystery now, and he'd have a better shot at understanding where his partner was coming from.

Sitting up cross-legged on the bed next to the silent figure, Gen reached out to touch him, gently, careful not to disturb him. He was warm, his hair was soft, as was the unblemished side of his face. They took a lot for granted. Without expressing it in flowery words or tenderness, he felt that Raidou embraced every bit of him without a doubt, and that the feeling was mutual. The urge to profess all of that never really arose, it just wasn't needed, and it ran contrary to both of their personalities.

So it came as yet another surprise, among all of these difficult concepts, to find that he had been less than truthful with himself. He wouldn't hate it if Rai told him how he felt about him in a...in an emotional way. He wouldn't hate having to do the same thing. Shoring up the baseline of their relationship might help solve some of this. They were close, but if he had to be honest, they could be closer. They just didn't take that step, maybe thinking that holding back would somehow shield them in a worst case scenario – an approach that clearly hadn't been any help at all.

Rai shifted and half-opened his eyes. He was completely relaxed now, and seeing Gen leaning over him was a great comfort to his exhausted soul, confirming that he really was alive and it hadn't been a dream. Waking up alone was hard, he had to spend time talking himself down from that lingering fear each time.

Genma dipped lower to let their lips meet. His partner was just a little startled, but not enough to keep him from responding in kind. Gen tried to keep it slow and gentle, not to last too long, or get all steamy. Rai wasn't up to it, and getting laid wasn't foremost on his own mind, either. He thought of it as tossing a life preserver, hoping that Rai would grab on, and let him reel him back into the boat. It hurt too much to see him floundering and in danger. Even if he objected to mushy displays, he'd have to recognize the intent behind it. Gen would play it by ear and let Raidou's reactions guide him. He probably should have just let him sleep, but...the opportunity would slip away.

Gen found he couldn't retreat, because Rai's hand was now on the back of his head, steadying them. Rai was more than willing, rousing fully to rise to the occasion, searching and sliding and using his tongue as if he had already been thinking about this himself. Gen allowed his partner take control, now that the ball was rolling, and let the world slip by to concentrate on how this felt. Words failed him anyway. The way Raidou kissed him made his worried heart want to burst. No wonder they'd tried like hell not to go here. It was a point of no return.

Raidou caught himself, gasped and let go, pulling away to sit upright.

"I'm sorry!"

Genma straightened. Even in the low light, he saw the redness in Raidou's face and the mortification in his eyes.

"I started it. Why are you sorry? If you don't like it, Rai, it's all right."

"But...you're the one who doesn't need to...doesn't like to do things like this. You don't have to force yourself. I'm not that bad off."

'You're the one?' Did that mean the Rai wanted this before but didn't trust him their bond enough to express it?

"You assume I'm just forcing myself to give you something you want? That I'd never consider this otherwise?"

Rai's head lowered. A half-shrug and half nod accompanied his answer.

"Please don't make this a big deal. I mean, I don't really care, it's not..."

"Stop. Rai. Look at me."

Genma, filled with determination and a huge side order of feeling-like-an-idiot-but-about-to-change-all-of-that, reached out and pulled them back together. Back into position, and then proceeded to overcome close to a full minute of his partner's embarrassed resistance in order to start back up where he'd been so rudely interrupted.

He was a little more insistent and far less dainty. He only broke away a few times, in the beginning, to assure that he was clearly understood.

"Make no mistake. I care about you more than I can say. If this shows you, and if I'm half as good at doing this as you are, then I'm more than all right with it."

'I care' was probably as close the L word that would ever leave his lips. But he was sure the Rai would decipher it.

"I care about you, too," Rai managed.

The scarred shinobi still held a little shadow of a doubt, the worry that this was out of sympathy or fear of loss, because he knew how far out of whack those emotions could push a man. It would be an awful complication in their relationship if Genma was just trying to humor him until he recovered his footing. But he leaned overwhelmingly towards the trust they'd spent years building up between them. His actions felt sincere and in control. The senbon nin was surprisingly masterful at the art of making out for someone with no interest in displays of affection. He thought he knew Gen inside and out, and here he was so off-base.

"We should get some rest," Genma said finally. They'd spent a nice long time exploring tongues and now it was approaching put up or shut up in the arousal department. He'd already vetoed that twice so far and he planned to stick by his word. Rai was worn out and in pain before the harassment started; now he was keeping up out of sheer willpower. It was easy to get him settled back down; a little harder to decide what came next.

Maintaining bodily contact in bed, outside of sex, wasn't an option that would occur to him normally, but was that something else he was denying his partner unknowingly?

"Do you want me to..." he slid up tentatively to rub Rai's upper arm. "try holding you when you sleep?"

"I'm a kicker, remember?" Rai sighed, putting his hand on Gen's, grateful for what was clearly a charitable gesture. The moment between them had passed. His raw emotions lost power and shut down on him when they stopped making out, more out of weariness than anything else. His shields were coming back up. "I'll definitely sleep better here with you. But you should stay out of field goal range. I mean - unless it's something you really wanted to do."

"No, it's fine. It'll be good to sack out the normal way instead of doing something different."

"Oh, geeze," Raidou mused half-seriously, turning away onto his side and pulling the sheet up to his chin. "We aren't staggering in late from a mission or wrung out raw from banging each other half to death all night. That's the only time you let me sleep here. This is like some slumber party. This isn't normal at all."

The comment was kind of funny, and it kind of hurt, but Gen had to concede that it was dead on. Other people's feelings were not something he felt responsible for. If Rai had ever asked to stay just for the sake of being together, he didn't think he would have been opposed to it. If there were any hints he must have missed them completely. Rai didn't get an open invitation because Gen wasn't aware that he wanted it so he made the offer only on those occasions where it made utilitarian sense.

It might be a little hurtful from Rai's point of view, in that context, if he wanted them to be closer and it hadn't crossed Gen's mind.

He got situated on the opposite side of the bed, facing away as well. Their relationship wasn't going to be the same after all of this. There was no excuse to be lax in addressing it. It felt like he was wading blind into new waters. He was resolute about extending his time off. This was too important to let slide.

Tomorrow he was going to limp in with his excuse. And Raidou would get his head – just his physical head – examined by professionals, to make sure it was safe to address the rest of his problems here in private.

He looked back over his shoulder. Rai's back, wrapped tight with the sheet, looked too stiff for comfort. They had a lot more to work on besides the lingering pain of injuries and his disappearance. A lot more.

Fuck it. He rolled over and planted his forehead against the broad back. He wasn't about to lie awake an arm's length away feeling lonely and worried when Rai was right here. What sense did that make?

"I might kick you," Rai murmured softly, somehow sounding both apologetic and relieved.

Gen smiled, throwing an arm over his partner's rib cage for good measure, his chest resting against comforting warmth with a dawning understanding of the appeal of this 'spooning' thing.

xxxx

Kakashi hung at the door just out of view; it was open to allow for a breeze, as were all of the many exit doors. It was perfect weather but the auditorium could get mighty stuffy without some air movement.

He could have gone in to hear the lecture properly; the newly-established Dean's symposium for all ages was wrapping up for the day, and yet the throng of attendees, from first-years to senior staff, were still attentive, energetic and engaged in the subject matter. Today's topics encompassed the new elements of added emphasis in the curriculum. Iruka's innovative changes were capturing imaginations and fostering a lot of brain-storming and self-challenging. Funny how when people are given a new interest, they channel their energies into it and stop screwing with others so much. They get busy, entertaining themselves. They don't hound and harass the person that turned them on to it. At least not here in the Academy environment.

As a nin in the field you wouldn't last very long without making decisions instinctively; Kakashi supposed those who didn't get it never even made genin. But it was something else altogether to be able to analyze the essence of intuition, break it out into comprehensible elements and teach it to others as a tool for self-development. Iruka's breakthrough in showing how to teach skills that were previously assumed to be purely innate made him somewhat of a guru to the staff and students alike.

Iruka gave him the credit, saying that he was the one that came up with the basis for it, but Kakashi had only been speaking from that very same instinct. His offhand advice was just the kick-starter for all of that hard work and dedication; he felt that his meager, somewhat obvious words contributed very little to the result.

Always trust your gut.

"Glad that's done," Iruka smiled, satchel in hand with the notes from the podium.

"Good speech."

"You were listening, eh? Well…I think I made some valid points."

Kakashi watched him do that thing, that habitual, modest, goddamn cute head-scratch and smile.

This face was irreplaceable. It had evolved into his very reason for living, instead of just surviving day-to-day. His heart, his soul, his humanity – all revived on the life support provided by this one man.

He didn't realize how intensely he stared, captivated by the surreal ways in which fate had gifted his undeserving soul with so many second chances – until he was called down on it.

"Kakashi? What are you staring at?"

"Oh, nothing, just faded out there for a minute. Sorry," he said, shaking his head to unlock his gaze, realizing that Iruka had drifted too close on purpose to allow the backs of their hands to casually touch. It was the most they could do, really, surrounded by a sea of dismissed students.

After this, the evening was theirs, and it promised to be a very satisfying one.

"I'd better go finish up for the day and sign out."

"See you at home." There was a day when he would have moved out of sight and kept watch in jealousy, to see who else might be getting Iruka's attention. He still felt that twinge of green monster, but it was just that now, a twinge he chose to control, and it served to remind him how fortunate he was, instead of enraging him into destructive behavior. Iruka hadn't changed completely; he still cared openly for most everyone.

But he only came home to one address.

Iruka didn't think to ask why Kakashi would come out to see his boring speech until he was through in the office, peering out into the corridor. Was it to walk with him when he was done? But that wasn't it– it appeared that he'd actually gone on home.

With all that he knew about the man, there was still an unpredictability and mystery about him that kept things interesting. He couldn't imagine ever becoming complacent in their relationship.

The other aspects of his life were going just a little too smoothly. Ibiki's crew didn't seem to be interested in bothering him anymore. Back on his game, Iruka didn't need Kakashi to hide behind, but there was nothing to hide from. It took adjustment, getting used to being treated with respect here at the Academy.

It was mind-bending, but in a good way. Like seeing Rai and Gen at the bar the other night, groping and being smart-ass and embarrassing Gai to no end, just like old times.

Well, no, not exactly like old times. Nothing was quite the same as it had been. Not for any of them. But that was okay.

Change was life, and he'd finally gained the footing to embrace it.

xxxxx

"Your sensei is not expecting you to join him?" Sai asked.

"No. I just wanted to listen to his speech. I'm pretty sure he wants to get home. If I go talk to him, ya know, he'll feel like he has to take me out for ramen or something."

"You don't want to do that? You always want to go out with him to eat ramen."

"I'm bein' considerate, all right? He's got stuff to do," Naruto explained impatiently.

Sai stared over his shoulder.

"What? Were you wanting me to talk to him?"

"No." Sai held his disappointment in, concealing the troubled thoughts that brought him tagging along on his teammate's side trip. He was hoping that Naruto would talk to Iruka. He yearned for an excuse to look at the teacher up close again, hear him speak, see for himself yet again just how well the removal of his Root shackles had gone.

But he was accustomed to presenting a false face to the world, and he had no choice but to persist despite the steady escalating difficulty that charade presented around Naruto. More and more, something about the demon vessel rattled the compartment in his psyche where he interred the terrible acts he committed on behalf of his master. So he somewhat expected to feel haunted by the fate of men he'd handed over to the deadly Uzingan user while in this young man's presence.

At least it had been settling to hear Umino's calm, steady voice as he gave his speech. His words came across as clever and logical, the delivery compelling through his controlled enthusiasm. It was a miracle almost beyond belief that his personality seemed not just intact, but thriving. He couldn't help but wonder what his master thought of this man now. It was in the back of his mind that he was glad Iruka-sensei's name came up rarely, and mostly in regards to Jeninki. His master was not a good loser, and he had lost this man to persons he still planned to usurp. It was unlike him not to hold a grudge and exact some sort of revenge.

"You're so weird. Ya know, you should try talking to Iruka-sensei yourself sometime. He can teach anybody anything, just about. Maybe he can give you some lessons on how to act like a regular guy."

"If by regular you are referring to yourself, I think I'll pass," Sai deadpanned, ignoring how close that suggestion came to his own forbidden desire.

"Yeah, whatever. Look, let's go see if Captain Yamato will give us the mission details now so we don't have to report so early in the morning."

Sai nodded. Yet another mission while being watched and analyzed by the wood-style user. He should have expected it. Given the unsolved murder of the two young ANBU, Leaf security was still tight on all of the usual suspects, and his Master was perhaps still at the top of the list. In his estimation, his Lord had given in to the temptation of the moment unwisely. They took Munasawagi with no forethought nor restraint, like grabbing some impulse buy at the marketplace. They should have aborted the abductions, blanked their quarry's memories, and left them both dozing a shot-glass shy of alcohol poisoning to cover their tracks. Hide could have been taken alone later with far less risk and resulting fanfare.

But in Danzou's defense, Jeninki would have been very difficult to handle in an abort, and they might have been discovered in the midst of a bungled retreat anyway. They had come away with a great victory. No one suspected, as far as he knew, that Jeninki was alive. And there was no proof of any wrongdoing on Danzou's part.

As Danzou's right hand, it was natural that they would be watching him, too. He tried to convince his Master that it might not be wise to report in to him for a while, but the proudly revitalized man wouldn't hear of it. There was no one with the skill to penetrate his barrier to spy on him now, and he did not intend to change his normal pattern and therefore appear to be guilty.

But Sai had wished for a change for his own reasons. More and more, when he reported to Danzou, the sense of homecoming was eclipsed by doubts and he felt a growing aversion to the duties that he used to welcome as proof of his unswerving dedication.

He was struggling with that disloyalty, a sin punishable by certain death. The same sin committed, confessed to, and survived by the man who just gave that thoughtful, masterful speech. It was almost impossible to get his head around it now. In his entire life, he could not remember being so completely confused.

Since his expression never changed, the nod served as his only answer, and Naruto had already turned to go. Sai gave one last look back as Iruka moved to check the door of a classroom. That was the only reason he saw it.

The sensei's hand signal, off to the side since Iruka's back was to them, gave Sai a double-take, and he tapped Naruto's shoulder and pointed. Iruka did an about-face with a wry smile and waved, looking right at them despite the great distance and their position concealed in the shadow of the trees.

"Show off!" Naruto bellowed, projecting his voice through cupped hands before grinning and waving back with enthusiasm. He gave Sai a companionable smack on the back in the spirit of the moment. "Let's go."

Sai found it mysteriously difficult to pull his gaze from the scarred sensei. He wasn't doing anything really, just standing in the sunny corridor with an untroubled smile and both fists planted firmly on his hips. From the look of it, he was simply pausing to watch them go. Because he was free to do that. He didn't have to live solely on task, directed by another, every single minute of every single day of his life anymore.

Sai launched away, wondering at the connection between the two, and the way it brought back memories of what he and Shin had been to each other.

Shin was long gone. If he erased Danzou's oath and his pledge, he would be truly alone in his head and his once-traitorous heart. That isolation, that separateness and solitude was the part that was nearly impossible to imagine. To have peace and privacy within, in place of unrelenting scrutiny. He nearly overran his orange-clad teammate and adjusted quickly to hide his error, setting his pace properly to follow at the optimum distance slightly behind and above as they bounded along in search of their captain.

Iruka's chakra fell out of range and he only then realized he'd left a small part of his awareness locked on to it.

For the first time in days, his hand itched with the urge to hold his brush. Not to practice his jutsu...but to create another nameless work for his portfolio that would capture his inner turmoil. His master found his artwork boring except for auditing the effectiveness of his jutsu and never gave it much notice. But in a way, it was still a risky place to express himself privately. Should his loyalty be called into question, he had no doubt that anything he possessed would be confiscated, analyzed, and likely destroyed. His master would do it without hesitation; and the Leaf establishment had nearly an equal right, barring intervention on his behalf.

No matter. It had never stopped him before, despite the damning nature of many of his works. As soon as they completed this errand he would go straight to his quarters and put ink to paper, to open the vein of his soul and allow his impiety to flow free.

xxxx

Jeninki lounged and laughed and teased, surrounded by the three gullible Sound kunoichi who had followed him here, lured by the promise of freedom and so much more. His new body was perfect; Danzou helped him stress-test it in every way, and finally, he was assured of a vessel without flaw.

So why did he feel that little twinge of longing still, when he thought of Konoha? Hide's body gave him great satisfaction, and its displaced soul had ascended gladly into his ethereal village, to live on in blissful freedom. So they would always be together from Hide's point of view as an element within the collective.

But as soon as he performed the induction on the voluptuous Sound nins, he'd be alone again in the physical plane.

He still lacked that elusive suitable companion.

According to Danzou, Iruka was doing very well these days, returning to all of his old, unimaginative ways as if nothing had ever happened. He now enjoyed a position of respect in his former field, however.

Now, consider that. His lovely face was no longer a liability. The jutsu upon it had, over time, worked absolute miracles. Iruka owed him, if nothing else, some sort of thank you. It was a delicious mystery, contemplating just how much he still remembered, if he still held some attachment, or experienced the loneliness or longing from time to time. One good, deep look into his eyes would tell the tale. The temptation to slip in and find out was strong. Except he knew better than to trust himself. He'd never be able to settle for just looking. And it was too soon to risk poking the hornet's nest they'd stirred up acquiring this new body.

Danzou, his perpetual partner in crime, didn't inspire such interest or emotional attachment. And he was very stingy sharing the tasty young man who secured his vessel, even for brief interludes, though he couldn't feature why. Sai could take on six of them with energy left over. The boy was limitless. But that also made him a little boring as a partner in the long run. Danzou ruthlessly hammered him into such an obedient machine that he could barely pass himself off as a human being. Jen wasn't planning on trying to mess with that, but it was kind of hard not to wonder what that puppet would do if he found a way to cut the strings. He had such big, beautiful onyx eyes, and somewhere in there, mysteriously flourishing under such unrelenting oppression, lived the talented soul of an artist. The more he contemplated it, the more it seemed like a crime to condemn an artiste to a life robotic. Shimura used the young man's obedience to indulge in such vicious and cruel abuses, it was no wonder he was cemented so deeply inside of his shell.

Freeing enslaved souls was his favorite pastime, when it came right down to it. Taking a boy like that and coaxing out his crushed soul was the sort of victory he lived for. How amazing it would be to see him laugh and cry, and teach him how to respond to warmth and affection in kind.

It was a project worth contemplating, complex and perhaps highly rewarding. He would put ownership of the boy high on his list of demands should Danzou come into his debt again. He'd have to put his mind to planning when their next collaboration might be.

Right after he tired of the impressive skills of his wanton Sound disciples.

xxxxx

"It doesn't help that his records are so skeletal. Danzou's done a good job keeping his data hidden," Tsunade frowned. "He hasn't revealed much to our men in the way of behavior in the field. From everything you've got here, Musanawagi's observations are still the best reference information we have to date."

"Sai's reassignment to Team 7 was at Danzou's behest. He has had secondary agendas throughout. No one thinks for a minute that he was released from his Root loyalties. They don't hide it when he reports in to the compound. Though I have to say that the level of abuse he's submitting has become just mind-boggling," Yamanaka said.

"Doesn't seem to be a problem for him. Not so long as it's what his master orders," Ibiki shrugged.

"The question is, how best do we proceed?" she mused with her chin on her fists, elbows planted on the huge expanse of cluttered desk. "Every other lead has been followed to a dead end. The trail is quite cold. At the moment, it's one of the few promising avenues we have left to examine."

"Right now, if we hauled Sai in and hit him with everything we've got, there still wouldn't be much point to it," Ibiki said. "Even in the inconceivable event that he decided to try to cooperate, there's less than a two percent chance of success on any level."

"He is exceptionally capable. There's no question that he has the skills necessary to have committed these acts. The men were very inexperienced in comparison. The victims posed an issue for Danzou, Moth far more than Hide, but still. It's a viable motive. He's a very strong suspect." Tsunade nodded, poking at the report on the desk thoughtfully. "And you are correct. Danzou was at Genma's ritual that day in full view of the public. But there is no recordation of Sai's whereabouts."

"Though that isn't at all unusual. Other than regular team missions, his activities fall under Danzou's purview and his location isn't reported," Yamanaka cautioned. "And we haven't been able to put together a link between Danzou's interests and Shiranui, other than the fact that Umino rescued him while his actions were sealed under Root oath."

"Short of interrogating every other soul in the village...and, no, Ibiki, that's not an option...I can only urge you both to continue to do your best and carry on. The situation is unacceptable, but for the moment, we must accept that. I have confidence in the work you've done so far. Our hands are tied when it comes to Danzou. I fully approve of the goal of finding a method of information mining that would be effective on Sai," she said.

"We've got more experience under our belts than we ever had before. And for the first time, a we have a viable survivor after removing his controls, so we know now that it's not impossible," Ibiki nodded.

"All the more reason to be cautious. He won't give us a chance to succeed a second time. As soon as he suspects we're up to something, he'll trigger his tags and Sai will be dead or worse. I guarantee you that boy holds secrets that would be his master's undoing," Yamanaka returned.

"If he's keeping traitorous secrets, I have no particular problem with forcing his own mentor to give him the punishment merited by the crime," Ibiki declared.

"If? There's no 'if'. Of course he is. He was raised to be a vessel for secrets. But he's been used and validated in that capacity all his life. We've allowed it and officially recognized his position, he is in no way guilty of treason by virtue of keeping secrets he's not supposed to divulge. We shouldn't shrug at the idea that we're setting him up at risk of execution, like it's no big deal," Yamanka argued.

"People don't like him. He has no personality. No friends. No family. The risk of collateral damage is minimal. I doubt anyone would get worked up over it if he disappeared," Ibiki said mildly.

"True. No one but Danzou will step up to protest no matter what we do to him. As capable as he is in the field, in the pecking order he's nobody, and there are no other relationships," Tsunadi agreed. "I'm not saying I'm a fan of the idea. This isn't about looking for an excuse to make him disappear. But we can't be hesitant to move forward. Valuable lives have already been lost."

"Ah, but he is effective, isn't he? The missions he's run for us have gone exceptionally well. I fully support utilizing him as frequently as possible while they're still fronting the charade that he's a regular. And I propose that keeping him out there working hard on mission contracts is our best bet for when we do attempt to release his seals. We can use mission perimeters to help us set up a precise scenario, wherever and however, exactly the way we need it. My thought was that ostensibly, we would make it appear that he was incapacitated due to injuries suffered in the field. A sudden head injury of just the right kind, so that his master would be in the dark in case they have some sort of internal communication link. It came to me when I went over the data on Namiashi's case, seeing the effects on his ability to reason and relay information. We'd need to be accurate to get just the right effect, though. The right area of the brain with the optimum amount of damage. Not severe enough and we'd trip the link. A little too much and the baby goes right out with the bath water," Ibiki said.

"Is that even possible?" Yamanaka asked.

"I believe that I could make it happen. I would need to strike swiftly and be certain that he didn't see it coming, then follow up immediately with a sedative heavy enough to blot out all sensory perception," Ibiki replied. "Then we'd keep him completely out, on a paralytic drip and sensory deprived for insurance, until we removed all of the seals and tags."

"Heavy sedation and paralytics concurrent with a fresh concussion that severe? I don't care how tough he is, you'd be flirting with permanent brain damage if not seizure and death," Yamanaka protested.

"That's a risk we'd only need to be willing to take if that's the best approach you can come up with; but if that ends up being the most promising option, then so be it. Analyze other ideas if you have them, but time is tight. I think we can agree that after you've developed a reasonable plan of removal, step one is securing him in manner that renders him fully unable to react both mentally and physically during and after the event. We have all of the data from the procedures used on Iruka-sensei. You gentlemen are encouraged to expand on that. If you have better theories, let's kick 'em around, but soon, before the next incident slaps us in the face."

Ibiki eyed the other two.

"Here's my take on it. Ninety percent chance Danzou called the shots. Eighty percent chance Sai was his operative," he said.

Yamanka and Tsunade paused before nodding.

"Danzou's oath was his perfect answer for maintaining enforced loyalty, back when he had so many men. Now it's put him at risk of losing his primary strategic force at any time, at our whim. As powerful and skilled as Sai is, he's become a big fat sitting duck, and his own master is the one who will have to pull the trigger," she smiled. "And I don't think they realize the position they're in yet."

xxxx

Iruka set down his satchel in the usual spot and scanned the hall tree and the kitchen counters. They appeared to be just as he'd left them. Kakashi hadn't been home.

Settling back into the Academy had been relatively quick and painless. He was fine with being back in the world of education but his sixth sense had warned him from the start not to get too comfortable. It felt impermanent – temporary – like standing under an overhang, waiting for the rain to pass, and he had mixed feelings about his intuition proving to be so right so soon.

Passing the physical was expected, he had done so without a problem last time. His body was in very good shape, and had been growing stronger and more able, for quite a while.

But acing the combat worthiness cert this time was really out of left field. It was probably to his credit – or fault, depending on how you looked at it – because he trained quite a bit as part of his daily routine. He did a lot of complex sparring with the combat instructors, kept his stamina up by working out right along with kids in the P.E. classes, and honed his own jutsus on the practice field to perfect and develop them, ostensibly to have them ready to demonstrate to the students. Basically, he was fudging a little, using Academy time to bring himself back up to full speed in stamina, ability and control. The success born of his effort was a double-edged sword.

Maybe. The truth was, he wasn't as comfortable being comfortable behind an academic desk as he was before. He lied to himself when he swore he'd be satisfied just being useful and left alone by the powers that be. While the rush of emotional reaction to today's news was mixed, he already knew he was more okay with it than not.

Conditionally mission-worthy. There would be another review process before he actually started going out on assignment, but it was more of a matter of screening for reentry level than a re-determination of the cert. The call-up would come in the very near future. Probably for some pretty low-grade stuff initially, but still.

He had been ordered to report part-time on the mission desk as a collateral duty starting last week, and the experience was both disillusioning and an eye-opener. Outside of the Academy, not everyone welcomed his return with such open arms. Whether it was because Hide had been shielding him, or the Academy position cast him in a different light, or something else altogether, he couldn't say, but the vibes now were like night and day from the desk work just months before. Shit was kind of serious there now.

The desk was undeniably struggling with a mission backlog that was big and getting bigger. If he turned in an acceptable performance on whatever his maiden mission turned out to be, it was a pretty sure bet field work would evolve into his primary job. And he felt in his heart that he was quite likely to do well. Proving himself to be worthy of retaining his jounin status would take care of that vibe issue at the desk. The field was the only place for that. He felt more than willing to let his actions silence his detractors, not that it was his primary motivation.

He just wasn't sure if this was going to sit well with his housemate.

Sounds at the doorstep turned him around. Kakashi was making noise deliberately, his polite way of making sure his approach was telegraphed instead of concealed. Even though personal stealth was a hard lifelong habit to break, it was not a convenient one to have when the person you startled was also a capable shinobi.

Iruka's usual greeting met silence as Kakashi removed his footwear and dropped the small duffel from his shoulder. It sent up a visible cloud of dust when it plopped on the floor.

The copy nin breezed by him with a pat on the shoulder, straight for the fridge and the cold water pitcher.

"You okay?"

Kakashi nodded, holding up a finger to pause the conversation until he got the water poured and chugged half the glass.

"Ahhh. Much better. Sorry. I'm fine now. It's just that damned dust in my throat all day. Goes right through the mask."

"Do you have to go back again tomorrow?"

"First thing in the morning. Then I pick up my next mission at noon. No rest for the wicked, as they say." He dropped the gloves on the counter and yanked up his sleeves to wash up, welcoming the moisture that brought his parched skin back to life.

"Why don't they have a couple of earth-style users take care of it? Or at least they could wet down the site so people can breathe while they work."

"I thought the same thing, but it's not worth pointing out," Kakashi said, drying his arms with the tea towel. "Second-guessing the Hokage's public works program's only going to piss her off. We're under the radar, let's keep it that way."

"I still think it's some form of punishment."

"I'm sure it is. But it's too lame to take seriously. They're losing steam if this is the best they come can up with. Won't be long before they give up if I don't make it interesting by objecting."

He cocked his head back. Iruka wasn't on his way to the sink, or the chair, or the fridge. Iruka was always bustling around industriously. He was always just about to do something if his hands weren't busy already. But here he was, just standing there, waiting to talk. A rare behavior normally reserved for discussion of serious subjects. This conversation was not even vaguely serious so far.

That meant the serious topic was yet to come.

Kakashi couldn't help it, his instincts threw him on red alert behind his carefully casual expression. There was a pause; Iruka hadn't answered him really, just nodded. The subject he was preparing to discuss might well be grave.

His first impulse was to dodge, not out of cowardice, but for the sake of a delay, a chance to prepare himself. This was out of the blue, and that was likely his own fault for letting his guard down. He sorely wanted to catch his breath for a minute before he had to hear it, whatever 'it' was.

Living together was a cakewalk now. They were both so well-behaved and focused on doing the right thing that their living arrangement was kind of unbelievably good. So much so that they both had a hard time accepting that they were capable of it.

Given the fleeting nature of happiness, it came with a sense of waiting for the other shoe to drop. This might be the shoe. If it was, hanging on to this fragile serenity for a few more minutes didn't seem like too much to ask.

He shamelessly delayed his fate by running off with the conversation.

"So! I know the Academy's all good, but you haven't said how it's been going back on the mission desk."

He raised an eyebrow and took a step in the usual direction, but Iruka didn't move. Normally, they would take an after-work chat into the living room and plop down to relax.

He wanted normal. He pushed it, motioning for Iruka to move to the room ahead of him.

To his relief, Iruka seemed to wake up and do as he was bid. It lit a tiny hope that maybe he'd just caught his partner spacing out when he arrived.

"Well?" he prompted once they were both seated.

"Hm?"

"The desk?"

"Oh, that? Eh. It's okay." Iruka rubbed the scar on his nose, looking down. The desk was not a short subject if he got into it. He'd prefer to dive ahead to deliver his news and deal with the consequences, but he didn't want to create more tension by treating it like a big show-stopping announcement, either.

"You don't sound too thrilled. I know it's a pain after a long day. But the reports are interesting, at least."

"The work is fine."

"So what is it that's not fine?"

Iruka gave up on hoping Kakashi would drop it.

"No big. It's just the guys that rotate in on the other desks...it's really different without Hide. He must have been running interference with them somehow. They can't decide how to deal with me. To my face they're all right, and yet I can still detect all this negative energy. I didn't know how to take it, so I made a point to tune in on some of the talk when they thought I couldn't hear, and I heard some shit."

"Hn, 'Ru, they'd be wise to think twice about who they're dealing with. But eavesdropping is not something to do lightly. Your training wasn't meant to give you tools to mess with your mates."

"They weren't all that subtle. If I'd stood around the corner I would have heard just as well. Seems the rumor du jour has it that you're actually on the brink of going insane. Did you know that? And that I'm brain-damaged and probably going to wash out completely and be lucky if they let me have chunin status out of pity. And do you know why everyone's seen you around me after hours when you're in town? Because I'm so unstable that I have to be watched, and you volunteered to take a turn to get the benefits. The psycho-sexual predator and the brain-damaged charity case in distress. They're trying to figure out how to lay down some bets in on it, or get pictures of us in the clench at least!"

Kakashi's lower lip moved under the mask, pushing up in reflection. So this was the problem. Wagging tongues about the two of them. Thank heavens it wasn't something important.

"My sanity gets batted around in conversation more than you'd think. I'm pretty sure I've heard every jounin's mental health questioned at one time or another. Welcome to the brotherhood?"

"No! It gets better! So I'm back putting the files away at the end of my shift, and Gai of all people comes in and gets right here, right in my face, and starts going on about how I shouldn't feel bad if I'm dropping in rank, that it could be the best thing for me, given my 'situation'. What the hell, what situation? I'm not dropping in rank. I'm well-respected at the Academy and my performance marks there are already top-notch! No one there gives me any attitude that's even vaguely like this bullshit at the desk."

"The rumor mill does sound like it's running full tilt. The field ops find you interesting."

"I find them infuriating."

"Your jounin status can't be revoked without cause and due process."

"I know that! It's not even on the table, you know it's all a total fabrication!"

"Calm down. I forget you did all your jounin time solo. You haven't spent time dealing with these guy as peers. It's just trash talk. They don't even believe it, really; they do it for kicks."

"It's unacceptable behavior in adults."

"It's not nice, but it's been going on long before you came into it, and you'll need to learn to ignore it and chill. Trash talk is a game. In sports, in politics, in jounin circles...it's a dick tactic, but it's all about power. You show any hurt feelings or give it any kind of attention so that anyone else notices, and you'll get a rep as a butt-hurt little bitch. It doesn't mean anything. You're taking it the wrong way. If you were so powerless they wouldn't waste their time taking you down a few pegs to make themselves look better. They see you as a competitor and they're concerned enough to try to keep you from getting a leg up. It's actually a backwards compliment."

"You're crazy. A compliment? Screwing with somebody's reputation is a compliment? Backstabbing, lying, rumors...no wonder I'm starting to feel like a fish out of water. This is one of the reasons, a huge reason, that I decided I wasn't interested in becoming jounin back in the day! Who strives to be a total ass? An ass among asses?"

"It's good that you can vent all this, one ass to another," Kakashi said mildly. "I hear you saying that insults aren't the way to deal with people, but then you use them pretty freely yourself. Very jounin of you. You can take that as a compliment. Or not."

"Dammit, Kakashi."

"I don't care if rumor has it that I'm insane. I admit I'm a little annoyed with the implication that I'm taking advantage of you and some alleged disability. And that annoyance bothers me the most about this, because I haven't let trash talk get to me at all in years. You're susceptible to it, and I'm feeling a collateral impact. You have to shake it off."

"I have to stop. I have to stop? Are you shitting me?"

"Well, what do you have control over, Iruka? Them? Or yourself?"

"Well, hell." Iruka huffed. There really was nothing he could do about it directly. Kakashi was not being unsympathetic, he was purposely withholding sympathy because it would send the wrong message. The anger and irritation sputtered and died. "Me, of course. Arrgh! Don't be so frickin right all the time!"

"I know it's not easy. You'll prevail. I have faith in you." Kakashi extended that olive branch while looking directly into Iruka's eyes.

Something still lurked in the dark, slightly dilated gaze, and it extinguished the hope that everything was all right. The silence of the growing, pregnant pause almost begged for interruption. Kakashi resigned himself to his fate and steeled his will to let it come. They were getting along fine as far as he could tell, this exchange would have gone badly if they weren't. He tried to convince himself that he was safe from some cataclysmic announcement about their personal relationship, so whatever it was, he'd handle it. He knew there were going to drawbacks to getting close to someone again. The level of vulnerability required was actually giving him nightmares. Well, more nightmares than usual, anyway.

Iruka cleared his throat. Twice. With a deep breath, he forged ahead.

"I got my test results back today," he chirped, cringing inside at how false his sudden cheerfulness sounded.

"All good, I hope."

"A lot better than I expected."

"Ah. So that's it." Kakashi's head bobbed knowingly, self-congratulating; his partner's stress levels soared off the charts when he broached the subject of the test results. While he was relieved on many levels, this was a very serious development, indeed.

"What's 'it'?"

"What's weighing on your mind. They must have cleared you. I was wondering when it would happen."

Iruka nodded, somewhat relieved. It sounded like this was expected. Kakashi was very calm, but he was staring with great intensity.

"Makes sense. The atmosphere at the desk probably made you a little anxious to get back in the field. You don't have to prove anything to them, Iruka."

"It was a scheduled appointment. I didn't ask for it."

"It's all right if you did."

"Hey! I said I didn't ask for it. Don't say that like you don't believe me!"

"Didn't mean it that way. I can tell you're feeling edgy. Are you all right with it?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure? They didn't give you much time at the Academy. With the kind of headway you were making, at first I thought they might make Ebisu step down into your position and promote you up to his. But then they sent you back to the mission desk, and I kind of figured I knew what they might be up to. No way do they plan on adding on regular missions and then expect you to do all three jobs at once."

"Don't say anything but I think Ebisu might be glad to see me go. Stealing his spotlight is one thing, but encroaching on his career is quite another. I think he's the one who may have dropped the hint that I was mission-ready to the Hokage. I know he set up the mission desk detail. We still get along. I think he's just protecting his interests."

"I have no doubt that you'll master the craft again in no time. It's just that you're still getting those memories back and it hits you pretty hard sometimes. Going back out in the field could trigger a lot more of them. It's not going to be good if it trips you up in the middle of a serious situation."

"I know. I've been thinking about that."

"So that's why I say this: if you get any choices in the matter, go slow. Take the lowest rank missions they'll give you at first. Don't be in a hurry to grab some A-rank to get back in the swing. Some of those memory blurps really put you off-balance, and there's always more pressure as your mission load levels up. You've been doing really well since you went back to the Academy, especially considering how close you were to having a breakdown when you made the move. But we still don't know if you stopped having those problems because Hide's jutsu is gone, or if it's the lack of stress from getting settled at the Academy, or both, or what."

Problems, yes – even more than the copy-nin knew. Iruka never admitted to the hallucinations of Jeninki, so from Kakashi's point of view, he'd been suffering from a general malaise that was largely situational. And he had been, along with the illusion of Kakashi's evil intentions created by Hide, which all sort of resolved with his untimely death and the changes that occurred around that time.

He could account for most of his current stability, logically. But the Jeninki thing still loomed in the back of his mind. He had no idea why he had been so insanely obsessed that he couldn't reliably control his imagination, or why it now sat innocently in the past and didn't provoke him. All he felt now was a reasonable trickle of emotion linked to the brief time they spent together. That's what made it hard to trust that it was a dead issue. If it was something that could get out of control again, he had no way of knowing what the trigger might be unless he tripped it. And the rest of his hard-won sanity might go sliding down the rabbit hole with it.

Life took a turn for the better when he started staying here, and that fact was now in need of hard focus. He needed to know if having Kakashi nearby was the source of his stability, and he needed to find out now, not by falling apart on his teammates during a mission.

"I will. I, uh, about tonight...I have some equipment that I need to go through at my apartment."

"I'll help you. We need to bring the rest of your things over anyway."

"Not til the end of the month."

"Might as well get it out of the way. No use waiting until the last minute."

"I think I'd rather take my time and go through them on my own, without any distractions," he said with finality.

Kakashi simultaneously nodded and shrugged, conceding warily.

"It'd probably make more sense if I just stay there tonight," Iruka added, trying to throw it in casually.

He felt the tension flare up; but Kakashi turned away without comment.

Iruka stayed here every night since Kakashi's release from questioning about the ANBU murders. At first he invited himself to stay in order to help Kakashi recover; then it was Kakashi who pulled him aside when he was preparing to leave and asked him if he would consider the idea of moving in instead.

Letting go of his precious apartment, after calling it home for so many years, should have been a tougher decision but it wasn't. His brazen heart had already kicked off its shoes and gotten comfortable here, making it feel natural to embrace the invitation to move in.

Now, the copy-nin's silence made him realize he was doing something that was not entirely honest.

"Besides," he went on, trying to put a smile in his voice, "it'll give me a chance to say goodbye to the place. I lived a lot of life there. You were there for some of it, hm? There are some pretty good memories."

"Sure," Kakashi said finally, taking in a big, slow breath. "You need to do what you need to do. By yourself. I understand."

Iruka cringed inwardly. Well, it would be okay. He'd be back tomorrow. If the test failed, there would be plenty they'd need to talk about. If he did all right, then – there would be no need to drag all of this out and complicate matters. He'd retrieve his field gear since that part of his story was entirely truthful, he really did need to go through that stuff tonight. And when he went back to pack the rest of his things in a week or so he'd ask Kakashi to come help, and that should ease any lingering doubts this might seed in his far-too-busy mind.

"Thanks. I'm going to grab a few things and take off, then. There's leftovers in the fridge, so no excuses – don't skip dinner."

Kakashi stilled the objection in his throat, having been about to ask 'didn't you just get here?' Iruka was in a tear to leave. He hadn't made any of his usual friendly overtures to welcome him home. For such a serious discussion, it was rushed, and as far as he was concerned, unfinished. It was almost as if he were due somewhere else. He tried to stop his old habits from rearing up but he was second-guessing that approach already.

Not all suspicions were merely unwarranted jealousy. Ignoring the obvious was as bad as jumping at nothing. Worse. Everything had been going so well. When they were home together it was good, almost comfortable; he was actually envisioning the impossible, a day when he could be completely open and happily at ease with another human being as an important fixture in his life.

Iruka was holding something back. It could just be about the mission assignment.

Or more likely, almost obviously, he was changing his mind about living here with a man of his type. A man so poorly regarded by the powers that be that they embraced the concept that he would murder his fellow men in cold blood on a whim to get the advantage in a relationship.

He held the door open when Iruka went out. No embrace of farewell. The words of goodbye seemed awkward; toting clothing and his satchel for the workday to come, the sensei-come-jounin took off with a crease of concern between his eyebrows, wanting nothing else save to get going without any delay.

The house never seemed so ominously empty.

He stuck his thumb under the mask to bite the nail in concentration, wringing his brain cells to try and figure out exactly how he'd managed to fuck it up this time.

xxxxxx

The window struggled before losing the fight to remain shut, screeching in protest all the way. Iruka sighed, reminded that he always had such good intentions of taking care of that with a little graphite lubricant but never did get around to it. Moot point now, he decided. The next tenant could deal with it, and all the other little quirky problems the place had.

He was fond of those little quirks, truth to tell. A few charming flaws. Nothing and no one was perfect, and he liked the apartment just the way it was. The broom closet door was warped and wouldn't open unless you lifted up on the handle just a bit while you pulled; and the oven dial was always ten degrees off below the actual temperature. He adjusted his own behavior instead of the environment and these little tricks became second nature. Like a little private arrangement he and his domicile shared.

A smack to the bedspread confirmed it wasn't dusty. His bed was just as he left it the last time he made it up neatly. Tonight he would muss it up by sleeping in it, and in the morning strip in and leave it bare. Kakashi had all of the furnishings they needed. He wasn't sure how much of his property he should take. The estate had plenty of unused space, so he didn't have to get rid of anything if he didn't want to. But keeping duplicates made him a little uneasy. It seemed like another one of those hedges against failure that implied that his commitment was less than 100%.

x

Kakashi battled for what seemed like an eternity, but it was actually a mere twenty minutes before he threw out all the shoulds and went with his old M.O. instead. He concentrated his chakra and cloaked himself completely with ANBU-level invisibility stealth. For good measure he added extra distance from the subject, raising his field scope to his natural eye and holding the Sharingan for reserve, in case some greater form of inspection became necessary.

Not only were the shades and curtains all pulled back, but the windows were thrown open as well. Good for observation, and an even better indication that this was not the stage for some clandestine meeting with parties unknown.

The landlady made a snoopy swoop of the back of the building, and her head perked up at the sight of the open windows in apparent surprise. Iruka came to the window and they exchanged a few words. Kakashi used a jutsu to brazenly eavesdrop; he felt a tiny bit of self-reproach once they were done. She was sorry he was leaving and he was her favorite tenant. She cheerfully scolded him for being the scamp that he was when he first moved in and they both chalked it up to his misspent youth with a knowing laugh.

It didn't take Iruka long to go through his mission equipment. His expediency seemed to be, at least in part, due to the use of what looked like an inventory list, with color coding for mission parameters. Unless someone else had given it to him, he must have created it back when he was working solo. He laid out the items in careful order and ticked them off one by one before inspecting and wiping them clean. Once the last of the lot was done, he shook out the various holsters and pouch liners and belt clips and loaded them neatly. The extras went back in the small footlocker first before he laid the rest on top and slid the container behind him, next to the door to the hallway.

At that point, the dark-eyed nin still sat on the floor, without much change in expression or posture. Deep thoughts, Kakashi grimaced, wondering what they might be. Thoughts he apparently needed an entire night to process; the mission equipment was just an excuse to get away. He could have accomplished the task with the equipment on the way home and the delay would have scarcely been enough to be noticed.

Staring at him like this was hardly a legitimate activity. It was still early, not quite dark yet. There was a fair share of bustle in the streets. Kakashi fully disapproved of the wide open window but the risk was not outrageous given the foot traffic nearby. There no valid reason to set up watch before sunset.

He had to concede that it wouldn't have stopped him from supervising the situation here, before. But they were supposed to trust each other now. Though this trip was premised in a way that was not completely forthright, he hadn't seen anything yet that made it seem dishonest in any substantial way.

He would leave and go home and not come back. Or, no. Being out already, he should go to the memorial. He'd been a little remiss in that lately, skipping it when he was torn over the impulse to pay his respects if it meant reducing the time he was at home, getting his head into the unfamiliar territory of his new role.

And then, once he finished at the memorial, if it happened to have gotten dark out, he'd swing back, just for a simple welfare check.

x

The sun's glare was easing up, the sky just starting to relax into the softer colors of sunset. His equipment was back in the footlocker, ready to transport to the Hatake Estate. Iruka pushed it to a spot near the door, as an extra reminder to take it with him to work so he'd be able to go straight home afterward.

With a sigh at a job well done, he remained cross-legged on the floor for some time. Shadows began to lengthen in the unlit bedroom and he stared out the window to watch the growing contrast between the wandering clouds and the star-sprinkled night sky.

It bothered him to reflect on the fact that he had been sitting here in this same room, doing nothing but thinking of his own needs when Hide was being brutalized and desperately needed help. Worse, that within those selfish thoughts he had been wishing for Hide or Kakashi to come to him without a clear preference as to which, apparently devoid of any second thought about using them both to compensate for his own shortcomings.

And on top of all that, his perpetual obsession with Jeninki, unsupportable if not outright treasonous, had all but turned him into a candidate for the loony bin, had anyone found out about his hallucinations.

Kakashi was faithfully adamant all along that his affinity for Hide was beyond his control, imposed upon him covertly. It was a relief to have the excuses made for him as far as Hide was concerned. It did seem that Kakashi had been right. He felt pretty stable now. Being here alone wasn't causing any particular problem yet.

That still left the issue with Jeninki that did not concern his mental stability. Maybe it wouldn't be so troubling if it wasn't for the deep connection he felt with Kakashi, at least, not on so many levels. Because even if his emotions had stabilized and he didn't have a single problem with it in the future, this secret was not something he ever planned to share.

And they had shared most everything else. Jeninki left a little wall he still had to keep in front of him, in between him and Kakashi. Jeninki, insane yet insanely honest and forthright, was absolutely correct when he said that he would be an influence in Iruka's life forever.

And even now, thought he really did wish he could, he still couldn't hate and reject the man completely.

It seemed pathetic that his commitment to Kakashi grew deeper and stronger in part because his other interests had been removed from the picture. It didn't say much for his character, or his moral fiber.

While his ruminations were not pleasant, they didn't spur any detectible problems with his emotional balance or intellectual composure. He'd been digging hard at the sort of things he truly relied on Kakashi's presence to shore up his strength for, and the physical separation didn't seem to have any particular impact. His subconscious was quiet, as if the knowledge that they were connected even when apart was understood on that level as well.

He dismissed the temptation to call it good and just go home. Sleeping apart might bring something in the way of dreams like it used to. It would be stupid to wait until he was in camp somewhere to put it to the test.

So instead, he opened the drawer to the bedside table and pulled out the manual Kakashi had given him what seemed like a lifetime ago. No use wasting the rest of the evening. The katas would fill the time productively; and though he really didn't need the instructions anymore, the book itself was an inspiring, iconic object he enjoyed holding in his hands, given its meaningful origins.

He would expend his nervous energy with the katas and meditate for an hour before locking up and bedding down for the night to see what his dreams might bring.

xxx

The village night was never completely quiet, with missions concluding at all hours, night shifts in the various departments, and quirky shinobi personal habits. It made for a shifting but fairly predictable pattern. Sai made his rounds unseen when he wasn't out on missions. He rarely had anything of note to report to his master. But tonight, the open, lit window of the apartment stopped him in his tracks.

Iruka was now co-habitating with Kakashi. Several shinobi had taken that step since the murders in their midst. Extra wards and shields laced many of the windows and doors. He had to observe mission-level stealth to complete his circuit now. A plethora of extra security measures kept him on his toes.

Some men, like the perpetually sleepless Namiashi, perched on the rooftop at odd hours to guard their sleeping partner. Of course, given that Shiranui had been directly impacted before, it was not entirely unreasonable behavior.

Sai did not regard this as overkill or paranoia in the slightest. Genma was probably safe, because the Uzingan user still rambled on about them being even – he had provided healing, but in the process, received the feedback that alerted him to his flawed vessel before it was too late. But any name that crossed those lips might be reconsidered at some point. Sai paid close attention to the way Jeninki talked when his own name arose. Jeninki considered himself to be in Sai's debt, yet bickered with Danzou several times over his desire to take over as his master. No doubt he thought he would be preferable, but to Sai he was not an upgrade. If he managed, as impossible as it still seemed, to slip Danzou's bonds, he would strive to be free of both of them.

But here was Iruka, window open, alone, nothing more protective than a perimeter alert ward active in the entire apartment. And Iruka's was another name that Jeninki still mulled over, because he sometimes felt their accounts were out of balance since the vessel Even fetched him turned out to be defective.

Danzou's seals were a double-edged sword. If Iruka still had them, Jeninki would be hard pressed to do anything except induct him into the ranks of his formless enclave. With a Root-free man, Jeninki would have a free hand to do as he pleased with the sturdy shinobi's mortal existence.

Sai found the right position and watched as Iruka moved through exercises, sweating lightly, shorts and t-shirt sticking to his body. If Jeninki saw this, there would be no stopping him. Sai had no doubt that the rogue would be swept away by his greed, too impulsive to be cautious in the face of such temptation.

But with all of the heightened security, Danzou no longer met with Jeninki nor any of his co-conspirators in the village proper. The only way they'd know this opportunity existed would be through Sai's report. As of now, they were aware of his co-habitation with the Sharingan user, whose ocular jutsu presented no small risk to their greatest secret. When Jeninki started going on about still having an interest in Iruka, Danzou's mention of Kakashi always brought the subject to a close.

It was unsettling when Sai realized that he had a choice here. Nothing in the seal would force him to report this. It was on his oath and honor that he fulfilled his duties to the absolute letter. It was actually something that was in his ability to control, to suit his own judgment, even though it might directly oppose his master's will.

Iruka was bending far backwards, his belly and throat wide open to attack. Sai failed to experience his usual reaction to unwise exposure, which was that those who did not take an abundance of care invited the hardships that visited them in result. Iruka-sensei meant something to him and he did not want him to come to harm. He might need his help and vice-versa. And aside from that, Iruka's continued good health gave him hope. If he fell to the plans of Lord Danzou now, it would be like sealing both of their fates.

Hands shaking in a way that he had not experienced since losing Shin, Sai propelled away, shocked at how quickly he'd decided to do such an unpardonable thing. He would not disclose his observations as ordered. The last ten minutes were not worth accounting for in his report.

He would knowingly deceive the person who held his life in his hands, for reasons he did not yet understand.

xxxx

"You came back."

Iruka had a half-double take over his shoulder, setting down the equipment box and his satchel and hopping on one foot to release a stubborn strap on his shoe.

Was his return in question? The way it was said...

"I had a shift at the desk, remember? I'm not late. I told you it was just going to be the one night." Iruka stood over Kakashi, tossing his last bag aside to plant his hands on his hips. The face buried in the book stayed put. Not angry...but not quite calm, either.

"Hn."

"Thought you were picking up a mission at noon?"

"Knocked it out already. It was a local." Kakashi stifled a yawn behind the mask, one of weariness, not of boredom.

"What, did you end up sitting in a tree all night because of me?" he jibed.

"Not all night," Kakashi returned bluntly.

"No way. You didn't really."

The copy-nin sighed and let the book fall to rest in his lap, looking up in surrender.

"I swung by to look in on you on the way to the memorial. Like I would have any other day I was taking that route and you were at home. Just for a little nostalgia. It wasn't even dark yet," he fudged, just a little, leaving out his midnight-to-five shift.

"Oh. Well, I was just kidding you know. I didn't really think you'd be watching me."

"That means you need to bone up on your detection skills, though. I wasn't very happy to see you leave yourself wide open. Two men were killed and I'm sure that being at home, they let their guard down just like that, and that's part of what did them in."

"Ah...yeah...well, I closed everything up before I went to sleep."

"They were wide awake. According to the reports, it appeared that Hide had just come out of the shower."

Iruka recoiled, trying to take all of that in.

"H-how do you know?"

"I'm off the guest list for suspects. Since I'm back on the enforcement side, I looked through the investigation briefs. There's still a general alert in effect for off-duty personnel, I'm surprised the Academy staff wouldn't have gotten that much at least."

"There was a notice, but it didn't read any differently from any other one I've seen." Iruka swallowed in frustrated realization. He had dismissed the notice because he was living here, and this was the safest place in the entire village, if not the world, as far as he was concerned. Damn, he needed to think things through and not blow them off at first glance because of overconfidence.

"Might want to take a second look. An alert isn't the same as a notice."

"My mistake. Kudos to you. It must have been difficult for you to leave me be once you saw that."

"That's an understatement."

"If the roles were reversed, I'm not sure that I could have left it like that."

Kakashi met his eyes and considered. This was a gentle questioning of his story, and he had a decision to make.

"After visiting the memorial, I did return to make sure you'd secured yourself for the night."

"I had the normal wards up. Nothing compared to the security here, though. That wouldn't have given you any peace of mind."

"It was grossly insufficient."

"So you were there."

"Yes."

"All night."

"Technically, no. It was after midnight by the time I returned. So most of the night. But not all." He wasn't too worried about the peeping now, but he did expect a little flak for being evasive.

Iruka blew him away.

"My fault. I need to do a lot better." Iruka gave his shoulder a pat and sauntered off into the kitchen.

Kakashi just stared after him, stunned at their failure to turn this into a knock-down drag-out over trust, honesty and over-protectiveness.

It felt like they just leveled up.

xxx

Ibiki turned the page over, then back again. It was the last of the data. All conflicting. No clear inferences.

"It's the only thing I can think to do from here," Yamanaka said, almost gently. He had worked with the powerful specialist so many times, but no other situation had him against the ropes the way this one had.

Ibiki's nod was slow. Almost defeated.

"I concur. I have nothing."

"Dentistry record can have errors. It's rare but not impossible."

"His wisdom teeth didn't fucking grow back. Records show that they were surgically removed. The positive I.D. on the body has to be rescinded. He may still be alive."

"There has to be some other explanation. He wouldn't have gone that far."

"He has a great deal of biological and technical knowledge, knows the area, and the crime originated in his apartment. If he orchestrated this, it's a brilliant set-up. Hide knew what this shop is capable of. He hated Hatake enough to get in his face many times in public. He knew what we'd do to the most likely suspect."

"He wouldn't have killed Munasawagi. Ibiki, I did his psychs and his backstops and his technicals. There is no way. And then, whose body do we have in the morgue? No one else is missing."

"I realize that. Everything fits so perfectly to a point and then it doesn't, just like every other theory we've come up with. What the hell is going on then? Why can't I come with any scenarios that make sense?"

At risk of great personal harm, Yamanaka reached out and laid his hand on the torture specialist's, holding on during the fully expected recoil.

"Look, Ibiki, as your friend..."

Ibiki pulled back as if he had been scalded but caught himself before the knee-jerk reaction escalated into violence. It froze him in his tracks. Yamanaka followed through and touched him again, actually squeezing his hand, as if it was a safe and simple thing to do. He was doing it in kindness, and sympathy, and support.

His massive jaw dropped open, and the empath saw something he had never before seen on this man.

He only meant to be helpful. But the almost imperceptible flash of shock and pain that cracked the stern and impenetrable face made him draw back with a sudden gasp of regret.

"Don't!" Ibiki roared, drawing up, instantly shaking off the vulnerable moment to cloak himself in protective fury.

Yamanaka stared, apology dying on his lips. So Hide was somehow a personal issue. This ran far deeper than he had realized. In any other department, Ibiki could be relieved of the case, for his own good. But there was no replacement for this man, and he would be obliged to run the truth to ground, no matter that his trusted subordinate might be the true culprit in this heinous crime.

"I'm sorry."

"You should be." Ibiki rubbed his hand furiously. No one touched him. No one wanted to, with the exception of the impulsive Hokage who did so as if to touch a corpse on a dare, but that was besides the point. Or perhaps, it was the point. He touched others against their will. His touch was carefully crafted poison. Like a wasp, or a caustic acid. Who would seek contact with that willingly?

Fucking Yamanaka. Evoking the memory of a time when he touched, and could be touched, and laughed, and had the capability of sharing the warmth of another. Life before the torture that became his rebirth, back when he was regarded as a passable human being.

Fucking Yamanka. Idiot jounin. Stupid half-assed, goddamned self-proclaimed friend. It was not a kindness to court the dead for resurrection. Not when the body was fully occupied by a greater purpose and there was no vacancy for a human heart to survive within it.

A knock at the door gave them both an easy out; buzzing softly, the bug jounin regarded them both without expression and waited for them to make the first overture. He did not know what was going on between the two men but the atmosphere had his insects on edge. That was fine; the more alert the tiny creatures were, the better they would perform, and the faster he'd complete this task.

It wasn't like he was in the mood to talk to them, especially with the expressions they were wearing.

xxxx

Pakkun's senses rousted him from his favorite spot, interrupting a pretty decent dream. The boss was giving off some disturbing vibes, steeling himself, on high alert. With a shake from head to toe the pug was off the porch in flash, slipping into the kitchen to watch the jounin's back. It was just the two of them, man and ninken, and Kakashi was merely standing there, mind a million miles away. False alarm, probably some kind of emotional garbage, just human stuff again. The boss was doing the human thing more and more often these days, it was hard to get used to, and sometimes painful to watch. Pakkun suppressed a sigh and sat heavily to keep an eye on him anyway.

Kakashi unfolded the note, worry creasing his brow. He and Iruka both left little messages to one another about the household, like leftovers or leaks or what have you, on slips from the little memo pad they kept by the bread box. He hadn't seen a longhand message on full-sized paper like this in a very, very long time, not since the co-habitation days of their initial, unhealthy relationship. It was always his fault when these would appear. When he didn't want to hear something back then, he was pretty effective in shutting down Iruka's attempt to communicate it verbally. There had been a few of these back in the day, and though he tried to blow off the contents, his partner was very good at expressing himself in writing. It hadn't happened a lot, considering how volatile their relationship had been, but still.

He swallowed. A pretty long paragraph at first glance. He resisted the urge to use his eye and suck it all in at once, like ripping off a bandage. No, he should read this thoughtfully, and take whatever Iruka was trying to give in the manner he intended it.

Obito's eye was already assuming the worst, overflowing and causing a delay as he fumbled a finger under the metal and cloth rub at the annoying moisture.

Deep breath.

Keep the dogs close while I'm away. I know that you think it's absurd and you don't listen when I tell you but I worry about you too, you know. And sleep at night for once. I will be fine. All I can say about this mission is that the most challenging part will be prying my teammates out of the tent (and plugging my ears while they're in it!) so don't be getting all up in arms even if we come in past due. You need to take care of yourself, damn it! None of that waiting around business. I'm still majorly pissed about that problem with your foot. GO BACK IN AND HAVE THEM LOOK AT IT AGAIN! I AM SERIOUS! I'm warning you, if you haven't taken care of it by the time I get home, you're in for some shit. I'd close with something nice but you don't deserve it. I'll be home as quick as I can but in the meanwhile, just for once, just to try it on as an experiment, BE AN ADULT and go see the doctor of your own volition! Sheesh! - Iruka

Kakashi blinked, and a started laughing softly in relief. He laughed even harder when he scrutinized the handwriting and it was obvious how it wasn't just the anger in the wording that grew at the end. The pen had pierced the paper when he dotted that last exclamation point.

Iruka was hammering home a point he'd already made, at full volume, in Kakashi's face just before he left. He was very comfortable expressing himself lately. Kinda healthy, it seemed.

And between the lines, so much warmth that he read it twice more, unwilling to wipe off the silly grin.

"Oh, geeze, put the mask back on," Pakkun grumbled, lumbering back to his spot in annoyance at the false alarm.

xxx

"I was starting to think that you were going to stand me up," Tsunade snorted over the rim of the tiny cup.

As always, Ibiki's critical eye conducted a flash evaluation for potential risks. She had only one bodyguard, albeit an ANBU, stationed between her and the lower level of the bar. He motioned to the man he'd brought along to take up a similar position on the opposite side of the small, semi-private mezzanine, thereby covering both avenues of the balcony's entrance and exit.

From this vantage point, with just a few additional logistics, the Hokage routinely enjoyed a bird's eye view of the scattering of patrons and easily concealed her conversation from any potential eavesdroppers.

"Once again, you're too lax."

"Pft," she scoffed. "One ANBU is sufficient. I'm hardly a helpless waif, you know."

"Depends on how much of that you've had," he waved to her bottle.

"Are you going to sit down or not?"

He dropped into the chair and she smacked his shoulder.

"For heaven's sake. It's warm up here. Take that coat off."

She watched him with a smug smile as he rose again obediently and removed it, tossing it into the next chair. There wouldn't be any others allowed up here, not if she did not specifically request for them to join her. The music below was reduced to a rhythmic, muted thrum, and the lights that sparkled in wait for bodies to enliven the empty dance floor were directed away from them. In subdued light and relative peace, they enjoyed the best of worlds both public and private.

"Tell me you didn't scare off the crowd."

Ibiki looked over and made his peace with the situation. She was not quite plastered, just relaxed. He hadn't shown up solely for professional reasons, although, he had been troubled recently with the idea that the next abduction, should there be one, might target someone of high office. She'd poo-poo the concern if he shared it with her, so he briefed his men instead, warning them to be on alert for any unusual activity around the Hokage or the Council.

He was pretty comfortable with their get-togethers. As often as not, he initiated them.

"I didn't advertise my arrival. As far as the thin crowd, it's because there's a live band playing at the club near the chunin district. My staff is staying on top of crowd control, just in case."

"Ah. Oh well. Good of you to take the time to meet. I take it you've got some kind of news for me?"

"Not much. Not nearly enough. Everything has been quiet. The men we put back in the field have been progressing nicely. Barring unforseen circumstances, we should have six more red-shirts back on the roster before escort season.

"I was a little surprised to see such clean reviews so soon."

"The earth-style team still needs a few more weeks before I test them at full strength so I wouldn't put much stock in their results yet. Shiranui and Namiashi's work has been on par, despite all the fuss about their slow recovery. And Umino's mission work is as expected; at least, it's as I expected. I believe that I did express my confidence in his ability to return to the field."

"You did. Between you and Ebisu, I suppose I lost my bet. I would have liked to have seen him stay on at the Academy, at least until the instruction year was over. He certainly got bored with it much faster than I ever would have thought possible."

Ibiki nodded, poker-faced, but smiling on the inside at how easily he had seeded the idea that Iruka was looking for some adventure because the return to the mission desk had piqued his interest in the field. Ebisu was obviously protecting his own job security when he got the ball rolling as far as the desk, but did she ever realize that he had his own somewhat selfish stake as well? Getting Umino back out and turning missions to restore his former jounin-level proficiency was square one in Ibiki's far-reaching agenda. Once the sometimes sensei was back in full swing, he'd be hard pressed to turn down a place on the ANBU without coming off like a coward. Iruka was now lofting back into fair territory, and Ibiki always played to win. He still held a firm belief that under his direction, he would extract even greater potential than Danzou's Root voodoo ever could.

And Umino's inexplicable willingness to accept the sudden change without complaint was already inspiring possibilities beyond that of just welcoming another body on the job. The strategic potential gave a little lift to the torture specialist's otherwise dry, jaded outlook.

"Yes, well...I wanted to give you a couple of heads ups. For one, I plan to start cross-training Tosaki. No telling yet how well he'll do, but I have to start somewhere. He has some sensing ability, but it's never been developed. It's not the same as Munasawagi's sonar-style, but it has potential. I would hesitate to use another sonar user anyway - in case that ability is what caused him to be discovered and targeted."

"Sounds unusually protective of you, Ibiki."

"Not...I'm not saying that I hesitate because of the risk to the user. I'm saying that if Danzou detected it out of the blue without warning, he will surely be on the alert for it now and he'd know right away if we try it again – which basically renders the method pointless."

"I see. It is a shame. I liked those men, what little I saw of them. Munasawagi was sure an enthusiastic little guy. And Hide was very likeable and adept at his craft. Did I ever mention that he looked a little like my Dan? I have to admit, it made it harder to hear that he'd been lost."

Ibiki's drink arrived, a tall double bourbon, inspected then passed to him by his ANBU. She was way ahead of him in the inebriation department, and given his bulk and strong constitution, this beverage would make little headway in catching up.

But catching up wasn't his goal. She held her liquor without slurring, but she'd brought up Dan, which always signaled that the alcohol was starting to dissolve her armor. He was patient and obliging in waiting for her to loosen up a little more. He sometimes thought that she talked just to hear her own voice at times like these. It was an honor of sorts, he supposed, that she trusted him and wanted him to listen.

"We might be alike in some ways, you and I," she sighed, tossing back another cup without meeting his eyes. "I know you had people, too. And like me, once they were lost, you make a conscious effort to avoid those kinds of relationships. We prefer memories to opportunities. I can see that you felt the impact of losing those two men, but it's not the same as it could have been. Even if you have regrets about how close you could have been with them, at the end of the day you can convince yourself that it would have come to nothing anyway. Much easier than if you...you know. Gave in and..."

He nodded, not bothering to point out that he had at no time ever considered them anything more than promising young operatives. She was off on her own tangent, comparing apples to oranges; and as always when she started getting a little tipsy these days, flooded with guilt that she never gave in to Jiraiya's perpetual bid to romance her. Ibiki sensed the change in her when news of his death arrived. All of her doors fell closed. She had been on the brink of giving in to the hopeful sannin and fate conspired to make sure that he would never know she had been biting back on the urge to accept him for some while.

It had become unimaginable that one so powerful and capable would fall this late in his career. He was at risk less often, mostly retired and journeying for his own purposes. So when he was to return from this one last dangerous, high-risk mission, she could finally let her breath out and take him by her side properly; her brave, maddeningly charming, dirty-minded, open-hearted teammate, who was always there for her as far back as she could remember.

The grief perched heavily on her shoulder all day, every day, ever since, freshening her sadness over Dan, adding to the grim weight of the responsibility of her office. Unbowed, she fought back all the harder, determined to be the type of iron-willed leader those men would respect.

Which meant a carefully crafted idea, one which might have met with instant rejection, could be fielded if introduced with the right spin at his exact point in time. She'd downed another cup and refilled it without pause, no doubt trying for an anesthetic effect against the demons waging war behind her slightly watery eyes.

"That is a wise observation. And in keeping with the wisdom of setting aside personal indulgences, I have another, perhaps regrettably difficult, plan of action to propose."

"P-propose?" she suppressed a burp almost completely in the midst of the word and another cup was emptied to chase it. "This isn't a business meeting."

"I'm not asking for a decision. As I said before, I just wanted to give you an idea of what I've got in the works. Am I boring you?"

"Hoo, that would be the day. Mori, you are a lot of things but boring isn't one of them."

He despised that nickname but it did highlight the fact that he had to get her to stop tossing back drinks one after another, or she might not remember this clearly enough tomorrow.

"So humor me." He twitched signs to the man on his right to fetch coffee and cancel her last order for another bottle. "I know he's still working out the kinks getting back out on missions, but what would you think of teaming up Sai and Iruka?"

"Is that clever somehow?"

"It is if Iruka has his own separate assignment to watch and analyze Sai, while they're on whatever missions we give them."

"Eehhh...you...hmmm. Hmm."

"You see the myriad possibilities."

"Hell, almost can't, there's so many. Sounds risky."

"Umino is capable and his duty in regards to Sai would just be covert observation. We'd give them missions consistent with his performance level. I would hope that something interesting would come of it. Danzou has been very quiet. If we put his former and current operatives together, that might poke the bear a little. I submit that it's high time for it."

"Ibiki, I just..." she blew out a frustrated puff of air. "I thought we were gonna lay off of those two for a while."

"Danzou and Sai?"

"No, idiot, Hatake and Umino."

"It's an assignment. They're both expected to work. We did 'lay off'. I shut down the investigation on them, barring any new evidence to the contrary. And this is not relevant to Hatake in any case."

"And here I was, giving you credit for not interrogating Umino, thinking you were finally cutting somebody a break."

"Separate subject. He had no motive, opportunity or capability except as Danzou's operative, and we dismantled that connection ourselves. And he was interrogated. By Yamanaka. Why would I give him a break?"

"I don't know, now you're confusing me. Wait, forget that. Evidence. Reminds me. What's all that about Hide again?"

"A mismatch from the analysis of the remains. The dentals were off. So I called in a few more specialists and went over every molecule of the scene. A section of cornea was found just clear of the fire, thanks to the Aburame's insects. It was a perfect match for the DNA we have in his file, so it was Hide. I haven't been able to formulate a decent explanation for the problem with the dental records as of yet."

"Ugh. You know, Ibiki, if you can't just relax and stop talking shop, I'm going to start making it an order."

Her hand landed on his and he reflected, for the second time in as many days, on how little people understood about his personal space, and wondered why anyone would assume from his straightforward refusal to respond to their ill-conceived overtures that he was secretly hoping for someone to break down his walls.

He slipped his hand out from beneath to pat hers firmly, returning to his mantra. People did not touch him; he touched them, to great effect, controlled in every way. He approached them. Questioned them. Manipulated them. And in the end, the vast majority of the time, he got his way in spite of them.

"You should have some of that coffee."

She frowned in concentration, taking the steaming cup and sipping distractedly.

"You're watching Sai because you think he's a murderer, a murderer of two fully-able shinobi in one fell swoop, but you don't think this plan is risky."

"He's been performing flawlessly with Tenzou and Naruto. They've been bearing the same risk, if there is one."

"Tenzou watches him so let Tenzou watch him some more," she pouted.

Ah. Arguing for argument's sake. Perfect.

"Tenzou has not had the experience of being released from Root. He was not bound by the tags and seals and then released through outside influence. He was an operative, just like Hatake was, not fully under the oath. Iruka will have more insight, better observations. Tenzou's reports are not giving me anything useful at this point."

"I think you just like to get your way."

"If I show you the reports tomorrow and you can see any way we might get somewhere just staying the course, I will be happy to forget I ever mentioned it."

"All right. Remember you said that," she said, bemused, wagging a finger in his direction. "You'll be happy, hm? I'd definitely like to bear witness to that occasion."

"And if you see that we're not going to succeed using Tenzou, you'll consider my recommendation. I assure you that I plan to make this low key and low risk. I want Umino well and turning missions just as much as you do."

"Well! We agree to nothing yet, except the possibility of agreeing, so I agree. We should toast this agreement!"

"We...can shake on it while we have some more of this nice coffee."

"I'm nowhere near my limit, you know." Nonetheless, she shook his proffered hand, shaking it just a little too long per her earlier tendencies, and smiled at him with a wrinkled nose.

"The coffee..." Ibiki prompted gently.

"Still can't get over those eyes," she blurted. The one part of him that looked exactly the same as the handsome, confident young man pictured in his personnel file. It almost itched to look at him now, while considering what he may have been like before; what he would be like today, absent the events that scarred him.

He stiffened his lips into a passable replica of benign amusement. He would see the evening through, to provider her with company while he monitored her relative sobriety and safety. At the conclusion of their get-together, flanked by Ibiki and two ANBU, she would return unharmed to her quarters in the more secure Tower. This was Basic Hokage-Sitting 101 so long as the security breaches remained unsolved.

But, man, sometimes meetings like this were pure torture.

xxxx

The air was crisp and cool; Iruka breathed in deeply, glad the night had passed without a hitch. They'd all be rested and moving at full speed. Maybe they'd be back well before sunset tonight after all.

Raidou was not as grumpy as he had been when the mission began and Gen was quiet as they broke down camp. Finally, on the third night, it seemed that they finally gave up on breaking the inappropriate tent activity record. Well, night two would have been a tough one to beat anyway. Iruka nearly called them on it, but instead he redoubled the barrier around the camp and let them have at it. They were all business otherwise, and there were no slips or glitches in their work. The well-oiled team, pun not intended, was back in action, working seamlessly in concert with one another and their bemused third-wheel lead.

This could have been a demanding solo, or a fairly comfortable two-man job. Iruka figured this was about the last of the kid-glove assignments, for him and for Genma and Raidou. The only remarkable feature of the mission was how smoothly it went.

Gen winked at him when their eyes happened to meet. Iruka nodded back. These guys had never given him any attitude, accepting his role as leader on this jaunt as if it were an everyday occurrence. He had to admit that it was quite a confidence booster. He'd be in a much better position to face the less receptive types now, with two successful missions under his belt and a firmer grip on the old tricks of the trade. Not quite like riding a bicycle, but most of it was coming back to him more or less naturally.

The position of lead was a pure gimme. Gen and Rai had seniority that would trump his standing, now that they'd passed their last red-shirt mission.

He made what was likely to be his last command on this trip, directing the men to pull in the perimeter tags so they could move on out.

"Mind if Raidou takes care of that?" Genma asked, standing in front of Iruka expectantly.

Iruka cast a look at the tall, scarred man. Clearly Raidou was in on whatever it Genma had in mind; he was unsurprised and unconcerned as he stood waiting for the answer.

"Fine."

Raidou slipped away as Gen cleared his throat.

"I've been meaning to talk to you in private. Shit, like since forever ago, now that I think about it. I just wanted to apologize to you."

"For..?"

"For being so...for the way I treated you when you started wearing the mask. I didn't realize that you had a legitimate reason for it, and I was all pissed off without giving you any chance to explain. We were friends, Iruka, and I totally turned my back on you. I really blew it. People tell me you gave up your place at Kakashi's and spent days taking care of me when I asked for your help. You would have been more than justified to say no."

"Genma, I..."

"No, let me finish. I was unhappy with you and the mask and all, but I never intended to stop being your friend. I didn't get a chance to tell you that while you were still wearing it. I don't want you to think that the difference now is somehow because you don't have to cover your face anymore. I would have told you. I mean, you probably wouldn't have given two shits, seeing as how you were in Root by the time I figured it out. But I intended to, even though Moreno threatened to bust me if I did. And then I got laid up and it never happened."

Iruka reached out and clasped Genma's shoulder.

"It's ancient history. I wasn't exactly approachable, I'm sure. I was trying to be alone. It might not have made much difference if you'd come to me. I was in a pretty dark place even before I started working for Danzou. I might have done or said something regrettable to maintain my distance. It goes both ways, you know. You're apologizing for staying away from me, but...I did the same thing to you."

Gen nodded. It wasn't as bad as he'd thought, getting his thoughts and feelings a little more out in the open. Raidou was right. All his devious tricks to appear obtuse so that he could skate on the serious stuff cost him a lot in the long run. His willful negligence hurt others, albeit unintentionally, and it was one of his most shameful specialties. He was just now discovering that he didn't have to turn himself inside out to stop doing it.

He just had to make the effort to be more up front and honest with the people he claimed to trust as friends.

Iruka paused at the brink, deciding against initiating a manly hug or some other form of affirmation, guilt flitting across the back of his mind. Gen came clean, but he still had not. He still hadn't told the tokubetsu jouin that he was the one who left him with strange civilians when his life was perilously hanging by a thread. He clung to the excuse of the old gag order, which he was quite sure had gone obsolete by now, but he'd had no official word that it was lifted. He could ask. But he didn't know if he wanted to, even now.

"Well. As long as we're good, it all worked out. I am sorry, though." Genma switched the senbon to the other corner of his mouth mischievously. "Your old man wasn't nearly as understanding about this, back when. He was probably annoyed enough at me for the both of you."

Iruka shook his head with a wry smile; that was at least the tenth creative term for Kakashi he'd heard on this trip.

"Speaking of that old man, he's gonna get reamed if he hasn't been to the infirmary by the time I get home."

"Be nice to the elderly, Iruka," Raidou piped in, trudging up while tucking the tags in his side pouch. "What old man are we talking about now?"

Genma waved dismissively with a laugh and followed as Iruka kinked his head in the direction they should get going in and the three started off.

Green and lush, the canopy of trees above and carpet of undergrowth below passed swiftly around the trio as they fell to bounding steadily ahead, on task and silent, more serene than one might ever expect in the uncontrolled wilds beyond the village walls.

Iruka lead them on without tiring the entire day. Home was waiting, in the form of a place and a person, with the impossible feeling that it was where he finally belonged. The inner strength of that conviction set the world firmly in place. A secret here, a lingering worry there...miniscule flaws he would cope with intelligently, doing whatever it took, to protect what was important. Naruto supported it. The ninken approved. Tsunade allowed it. Peers rolled their eyes as if he were the last to realize it. Even Ibiki seemed to turn a blind eye to it, an amazing concession, in Iruka's opinion.

He hadn't realized how far he'd outdistanced the team after the dinner break until the gates came into view and he glanced back over his shoulder and saw the insect-sized dots in the distance. They'd probably been talking to one another, but Iruka had spared no time to hang back and see if they might want to chat. He slid up to the gatekeepers and took the proffered clipboard to memorialized their arrival.

Raidou and Genma blew past as he waved to confirm that he'd signed them in as well.

"You got the report, right?" Gen called as he passed, but he seemed to assume the answer since he didn't stop.

"Yeah, I'll take care of it." Chunin Iruka would have gone immediately to the desk to fill out his paperwork and turn it in.

Today, he picked up his pack, and with a friendly goodbye to Kotetsu and Izumo, made tracks straight for home.

No one ever died from a late mission report. Ask any crazy-ass jounin, and they'd tell you the very same thing.

The End.

With sincere apologies and gratitude for those noble souls who read this entire thing. You are amazing!