If someone asked him, Kakashi would have to admit that he killed the witch in a fit of rage. Rage at having been duped so easily. Rage at having allowed himself to be seduced just because he'd been lonely and homesick. Rage at his own stupidity.

As the red fog cleared from his eyes and he drew a long slow breath, Kakashi found himself staring at his handiwork: the smashed table, torn curtains, shredded sheets and the woman with her head at an angle that wasn't normal. The chocolate-haired, cinnamon-skinned beauty from the night before had vanished with the sunrise. The dead woman on the bed had dark hair, thin tight lips and her wide sightless eyes were green. Kakashi thought they sneered at him, even in death.

He knew he'd been easy prey. By torchlight, the woman had reminded him of everything he missed: his home, his best friend, the love of his life. Cold and lonely and heartsick he had wanted to imagine, just once, what it would feel like to run his hands over cinnamon skin and through chocolate-coloured hair, to look into deep brown eyes turned an unfathomable black with passion. He'd felt ashamed of his weakness as soon as he woke. Until he'd seen the witch's real face and form, that was.

Kakashi took a deep breath and then another as he slowly calmed himself. For good or ill, his mission was done. The woman he'd been sent to kill was dead and Kakashi could finally go home.

The forest around him grew dark and Kakashi was looking for shelter when a wave of dizziness hit him. His vision blurred and the forest spun just before pain ripped through him. Pain so fierce, he could not keep his feet. He curled up on the ground and watched in horrified fascination as his hands changed shape, then his feet. Silver hair flowed like a river to his waist and then the pain lanced so hot and sharp through his core that his world turned dark.

When he woke in the morning, still in the woods, nothing seemed amiss. Until the sun set again…

"You… what?"

Kakashi flinched at the exasperation in Iruka's tone. The chuunin looked gobsmacked and Kakashi couldn't blame him. He'd imagined telling Iruka how he felt more times than he could count. But even in his wildest, most fanciful imaginings – at the end of month-long missions, far away from home or too drunk to care – the words she cursed me to turn into a woman every night had not been part of the conversation.

"I said," Kakashi began carefully, "that I made a mistake. I was missing… home." I was missing you. "And she looked…" Like you. If you were a woman. "And so, I…"

"Yes, thank you. I got all that," Iruka brushed the halting words aside with a brisk wave of his hand. "So you took her to bed and in the morning you realised that she was the target of your mission. So you killed her."

Iruka was amazing. Kakashi had thought so for a very long time. But right now, his thoughts didn't stray to cinnamon skin, chocolate hair or the chuunin's innate kindness. Instead he admired Iruka's steadiness, the calm manner that quelled the panic inside him and he nodded in answer.

"She didn't say anything before she died?"

Kakashi shook his head. He'd used the sharingan that night, and even though he'd killed in a fit of rage, he now had a perfect recollection of every moment. Whether he wanted it or not. But at least he could be sure he hadn't missed a word.

"I think I know what she did." Iruka said simply. And there was a good chance that he did, since he'd been one of the team that had defined the parameters for Kakashi's mission. Whether the copy nin's mistake could be fixed was another matter.

"I know what she did," Kakashi huffed, uncomfortable. It had suddenly occurred to him that once this was over – provided it would ever be over – they could never go back to being the friends they'd been. Because now Iruka knew… knew how Kakashi felt about him. And Iruka wasn't showing any signs that it bothered him, or upset him, or even meant anything to him. White hot pain flared in Kakashi's chest – and it wasn't the pain he'd felt every time the sun went down. That pain, he could endure. This one, this was worse.

"I bet you do. But I think I know how to fix it." Iruka looked up at the copy nin, clearly unaware of Kakashi's thoughts and smiled. "I need to do some reading and it's almost sunset. Do you want me to knock you out?"

Kakashi nodded fervently, desperate to escape for at least a little while. "Please," he groaned, his voice hoarse.

Kakashi made a surprisingly beautiful woman, Iruka thought as he brushed the long silver hair from his friend's sleeping face. The ever-present mask had vanished in the transformation and full pink lips tempted the chuunin. He'd known for a long time what Kakashi felt for him. He'd know for almost as long what he felt for his friend. But so far, they'd neither of them found the time or courage to act on their feelings.

Now their hands had been forced. And Kakashi clearly expected Iruka to resent the fact that he'd allowed himself to be seduced by the witch. While, actually, the opposite was true. Iruka had been utterly charmed by the way Kakashi had stuttered out the whole story. But then, he knew something that Kakashi had no knowledge of. He knew that when she tried to seduce someone, the witch would turn into the one person her target most desired. It was that what had made her so dangerous and what had led to her being sentenced to death.

All it confirmed to Iruka, was that Kakashi loved him. And he could live with that.

"It's almost midnight, Kakashi," he said softly and touched the copy nin's shoulder. He stroked until Kakashi opened his eyes. "It's time," Iruka reiterated. "Let's try this."

He slid close to Kakashi and wrapped a hand around the other's neck, leaning in.

"Do you really want to do this?" Kakashi's voice was but a whisper, a soft breath against Iruka's lips.

"Yes," Iruka confirmed, steady and steadfast. He swallowed the butterflies in his stomach, ran his tongue over his bottom lip and then touched his mouth to Kakashi's. It was five minutes to midnight and he wanted to make sure they did it right.

Their first touch was tentative. Soft like the brush of butterfly wings, but Kakashi shivered under Iruka's lips. He didn't let go, though. He slid a hand around Iruka's neck and buried his fingers in chocolate coloured hair.

To break the curse, all they had to do was kiss across the stroke of midnight. But they were still kissing, long after midnight had passed.