-o-o-o- Iruka, age 25 -o-o-o-

Iruka’s alarm was lying on the floor, a crack across the plastic face, the battery compartment all but destroyed, and a large pillow hiding it from view. He did not want to be awake and moving. Part of it was the horrible night’s sleep he had, part of it was knowing what he was waking up to. After destroying the poor electronic device, Iruka had finally crawled out of bed, glaring death at the wall clock that still clearly showed the time, and stumbled his way to the bathroom to wash and get ready for his meeting.

He dug through his hamper, searching for the hitai-ate that had been thrown in there accidentally after the confusion the night before, and pulled it out with a frown. He pulled on a clean uniform and shrugged into his vest as he stepped out the door. Logically he knew he should eat, but the way his stomach was dancing told him that was a very bad idea just at the moment. Instead he merely shuffled along the street toward the Hyuga compound, dragging his feet so obviously he would have kicked himself if he’d had the energy.

The man was greeted at the door by a pretty girl from the branch house dressed in the typical beige robes. She didn’t meet his eyes and Iruka’s face fell that much more. Was it that she knew what was going to happen or was she just showing deference? Did she think Iruka strong and clever and talented or . . . Iruka mentally shook himself, some of the motion showing through as his head went quickly side to side. He couldn’t go falling apart now, not before he’d even laid eyes on the head of the clan.

Iruka was led to a fairly large room and ushered inside. With a deep, steadying breath, he bowed to Hiashi Hyuga and went to the center of the room, his obvious place. Hiashi was standing across from him, a half dozen elder Hyugas seated behind him, all gazing at Iruka as he took his seat. He forced his eyes to meet Hiashi’s, waiting for the older man to begin the meeting properly.

Hiashi sat, nodding a greeting to the teacher. “I’m glad you could make it, Iruka-sensei.” The teacher gave no response, not having the energy to devote to pleasantries. Hiashi nodded, sensing the man’s mood and simply moving on. “We wanted to talk to you about Hanabi.” Iruka nodded stiffly, already calling to mind arguments to justify himself. Hiashi frowned, continuing after only a slight pause. “We have decided that she should not be in your academy class.”

Hiashi stopped, clearly waiting for Iruka’s reaction to the statement. The jounin closed his eyes briefly, taking another deep breath and ordering his thoughts before he opened his mouth. “Hanabi is a very gifted child; she shows great promise in her studies as well as her fighting. Still, to change her class environment at this point would be unwise. She needs to be with the friends she’s made. She needs a teacher who is familiar with her strengths and weaknesses. Someone who knows how best to help her improve. I think you should rethink your decision.”

Hiashi frowned slightly. “We’ve already put in a request with the Hokage.”

Iruka faltered at this, gaping at the man across from him. Briefly his eyes flickered over the other gathered elders, almost seeking conformation. Iruka’s mouth snapped shut and he focused on not screaming at these people. This wasn’t his classroom where he could just scream an unruly child into submission. Slowly, choosing each word with great care, he opened his mouth again. “I think that was extremely hasty of you. If you would have come to me first, I could have explained myself and we could have thought about what was best for Hanabi. Now we’ll have to go to Tsunade once we’ve reached a decision here.” Hiashi was still frowning, opening his mouth to say something. Iruka cut him off sharply, a bit of his teacher’s instincts slipping through. “You would not have called me here if you had no intention of listening to my side of things.”

Hiashi was glowering now, meeting the teacher’s eyes and daring him to interrupt again. “We called you here because you are a good teacher and have proven yourself to be a good man and a good shinobi, recently promoted, even. Your judgment, on the other hand, has proven to be seriously suspect.” Iruka’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing, letting the other continue. “If you were only responsible for yourself, it would be a different matter, but you are the teacher of our children. And to think of those children being exposed to that,” he seemed to struggle for the proper word before he finally spat, “degenerate. A talented jounin, to be sure, but not someone a teacher should associate with at all. We do not want Hanabi associated with someone like that and we’ve recommended that other families consider doing the same.”

Iruka was staring at the clan leader in shock, struggling to assemble the pieces of information in his head. “Kakashi?” he managed in a whisper before his voice rose drastically. “This is about Kakashi?!”

Hiashi blinked, his own anger evident. “I will not have my daughter around such perversity if there is something I can do about it.”

Iruka’s control shattered. He surged to his feet, fists clenched at his sides, yelling at the top of his lungs. “You’re honestly punishing Kakashi! You don’t even know anything about him!”

Hiashi was on his feet just as quickly. “The rumors surrounding him are far more believable than those about you, Sensei. There is plenty of reason-“

“Rumors? Rumors! You don’t even have proof, do you? What are you blaming him for, the things his father did? The missions he’s failed and the death of his teammates? Explain to me how any of those things were his fault! Give me a reason, a good reason why Kakashi should be punished for any of it, let alone his partner!”

“You’re far out of line, Sensei!”

“And you’re basing it on rumors! I can guarantee the rumors about me are more true than anything you’ve heard about him.” Iruka’s face was burning. He couldn’t believe what he’d just said, but he wasn’t about to cover it up or take it back. The man in front of him, the whole family disgusted him right now and he would sooner die than let them talk about his lover that way.

Hiashi’s eyes narrowed to mere slits. Behind him, the elders had broken into frantic whispers, making no effort to keep their voices unheard. The clan head spoke in a low voice, somehow threatening despite its neutral tone. “What rumors, exactly, are you talking about, Sensei?” Iruka’s fists still shook at his sides. He turned his eyes away, unable to look at the man for the first time. Stiffly he turned to the door, and Hiashi growled at him. “I asked you a question.”

“Ask Hotarou!” Iruka snapped, storming from the room.

Hiashi glanced over his shoulder in shock. Hotarou was a slightly older Hyuga, held in high respect within the clan. She looked entirely nonplussed about the teacher’s outburst, but surely he had snapped her name for a reason. He turned back to the door, activating his blood limit with a thought. Iruka stood just outside, delayed at least a moment by the two teenagers that stood there; Hinata and Neji had been listening to the interaction and both greeted Iruka with grim, worried faces.

The teacher brushed aside their hands and started down the hallway, the teens following without hesitation. “Neji!” Hiashi snapped through the wall at the boy.

Neji froze where he was, head snapping towards the commanding voice. He hesitated, glancing down the hallway and back again, struggling between obeying the head of his house and helping his beloved teacher. After another moment of hesitation, he frowned, slipping into the meeting room.

With a glare, Hiashi cleared the room, leaving him alone with Neji and Hotarou. The woman was still looking calm, but the tension could be seen clearly in Neji. Hiashi turned to him once the room was emptied. “You know about this?” The boy nodded once and Hiashi sighed. “What can you tell me about his reaction?”

Neji frowned. “I can tell you it was justified, from what I could tell.” The clan head glared at him until Neji looked away slightly. “It’s a matter of Konoha security, I can’t tell you.”

Hiashi frowned at him again. “Neji-“

“I’m under orders directly from the Hokage; I won’t tell you.”

For the first time, Hotarou spoke and her voice was just as disinterested as her posture. “He really isn’t worth this, you know. There’s no reason for you to suffer for his mistakes.”

“You don’t know anything about it,” Neji snapped at her, a bit of his own calm disappearing. “You have no idea what he’s been through.”

Hiashi remained silent, watching the two in their brief battle. Hotarou’s voice went from bored to angry in a second. “Don’t be a fool! He was a strong shinobi, even as a chunin. It’s not as if he fought back.”

“How does that make it okay!” Neji wasn’t screaming, but he was clearly outraged. “How is any of what you did okay? You scarred him! He walked with a limp for more than a month!”

“Neji.” The genin snapped his mouth shut at Hiashi’s voice, focusing on him again. He said nothing else, just staring until Neji spoke.

“It wasn’t his fault.” He glared briefly at Hotarou. “And it was never his choice.”

Hiashi was silent another moment before he sighed. “Go find Iruka and bring him back here. Get him refreshments and make him comfortable. I will return shortly.” His hand wrapped around Hotarou’s arm, anger clearly restrained in the motion, and moved toward the door.

Neji found Iruka within minutes. He hadn’t gone far, slouched over in the Hyuga garden with Hinata. The girl was quiet, just sitting beside him and offering what little strength she could give. Neji cleared his throat quietly and the teacher looked up. He was pale and his eyes were red, though he didn’t appear to have been crying. He stood slowly, as if he had to force every muscle to move. “How mad is he?” he mumbled, following as Neji led him back into the house.

Neji hesitated. “It’s . . . really hard to say. I’m sorry, Iruka-sensei. I told him it wasn’t your fault.”

They reached the meeting room and Iruka went to the small table against one wall and sat. “Thank you.” And he lapsed into silence, staring at his hands.

Iruka wasn’t really aware of Neji leaving but being alone in the room hit him suddenly. He made no attempt to keep track of time, focusing on staying calm and not, for lack of a better term, freaking out. His mind ran away with him, imagining punishments and consequences, each worse than the last, despite his attempts at almost-meditation. When the door slid open some time later, Iruka physically flinched, not looking at the Hyuga head as he approached the table.

Hiashi settled onto the floor on the side of the table nearest Iruka, instead of across from the teacher. The simple move alone made the air more intimate, completely going against the formality of their earlier meeting. Iruka clenched his hands together to try and control the shaking in his arms and his knuckles began to whiten.

“Iruka.” The teacher flinched again. Hiashi didn’t affix any title to his name, keeping his voice light and soft. “It appears I have been gravely misinformed about your situation. If I ask you a question, will you answer it honestly so that I can understand?”

Iruka nodded stiffly, clenching his eyes closed and still not looking at the older man.

“Is it true that your bed has been open to any ninja who wished it?”

Iruka flinched again, his hands shaking more. “Yes,” he whispered.

Hiashi’s lips thinned and he made a thoughtful noise. “Is it true that it was not your choice?”

Iruka nodded. “I couldn’t stop it.”

“But Kakashi did.” Iruka flinched again, curling in on himself slightly. Hiashi sighed and reached for the teacher’s clasped hands. “And Hotarou hurt you.”

Iruka lifted a hand to his eyes, struggling to remain in control. “It was an accident.” The words slipped from his lips almost without thought. “I was taken off missions for two weeks and limped for a lot longer. But . . . it-it wasn’t her fault.”

Hiashi tightened his hold, trying to quiet the man without frightening him. “Don’t try and defend her or what she did. I’ve already dealt with that.” Iruka took a deep breath, shuddering. “I went to Tsunade and it turns out she has refused my request to move Hanabi to another class.”

The change of topic was obvious, but Iruka took it gratefully. “You could force the issue.”

“But I won’t. As I see it now my daughter is still at great risk of being exposed to that . . . to Kakashi. But she is also wonderfully protected by her teacher, a man who is stronger even than I realized.”

Iruka smiled slightly at that, finally looking at the man.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Kakashi wondered how early would be too early to go and see Iruka. Of course being on time for anything, let alone early, went against Kakashi’s very nature. But he’d proven in the past that he was more than willing to make the exception for Iruka. And maybe Kakashi was a little anxious to see him again. He was worried since yesterday had been such an unrivaled disaster and he wanted to see the teacher alone before he popped in on his advanced class.

Sneaking to his apartment unseen was like counting to ten and before he knew it, Kakashi was there. Remembering that the teacher had activated traps on the windows was harder and, in fact, Kakashi forgot. He nearly stumbled right into a tripwire before correcting his imbalance and taking more time to enter the apartment. Iruka, however, wasn’t there. Kakashi went around the home on reflex, straightening the bed and quickly repairing what he could of the alarm – things he’d been doing for months to make Iruka feel better when he’d upset him. Then Kakashi leapt to the rooftops, trying to find where his boyfriend had gone.

He had said something last night about a meeting. Kakashi really hadn’t been paying attention, he’d been somewhat distracted by the way Iruka’s face had made his chest ache. Kakashi shook off the renewed tenseness at that thought and redirected towards the Hyuga compound.

Iruka’s chakra was easy enough to find and the way it leaked and flared slightly sent a chill up Kakashi’s spine. The teacher was stressed – badly – if he was having that much trouble controlling his chakra. Kakashi took care to hide his presence, even more so than usual. Let alone the ramifications if Iruka found out he was being spied upon, Kakashi knew more or less what the Hyugas thought about him and they held enough clout in the village to make his life miserable. He thought about that and decided he didn’t mind it so much as making Iruka’s life horrible; the teacher was, after all, inextricably linked with him now. In fact, Kakashi thought, that was probably why he’d been called here to begin with.

Kakashi crept towards the flare of familiar chakra, hoping not to run across a stray Byakugan use that would reveal him. Iruka was inside slouched against one wall, cup of tea clasped in his hands. Hiashi was sitting beside him, blithely sipping at his own tea as he listened to the jounin talk. Kakashi’s breath caught. Right, well, not talking about him then. Iruka was blushing deeply, quietly giving the other man details about his past.

The teacher was clever about it, too. His descriptions could not be mistaken when heard in context, but they were carefully vague, using terms like ‘visit’ and ‘watching’ for things that Kakashi knew were far more serious. He was also carefully avoiding names, and even pronouns, with the exception of Mizuki. Even Itsuo’s name was absent, though Kakashi knew that the rumors mentioned him since the man’s arrest. Iruka mentioned specific scars as well as some of the lengths he’d gone to to control the damage that had been going on.

Hiashi nodded thoughtfully, refilling the teacher’s tea in blatant denial of the hierarchy that should have been in place between the two. “And Kakashi?”

Ah, there his name was. He knew it had to come up eventually. “He-“ Iruka stopped for a long minute to choose the right words. “He came to me the same way. He thought it was my choice, same as you did earlier.” Kakashi actually flinched at the words, ashamed at the truth in them. “But then . . . he took me on a date. A real date. I owe him so much.”

Kakashi couldn’t listen to any more, he had to leave. In mere seconds, his mind was chasing itself in circles while his feet carried him far away from the compound. Was that what Iruka thought? That he owed him? The teacher’s cold mood the past couple of days made that bit of tantalizing doubt stick in his mind. But that was because of that damn lake, not because Iruka felt obligated.

But he’s been distant in the past, too.

I screw up a lot. It’s hard with him, I never know what might trigger a bad memory.

He’s been cold to you even when you’ve done everything right.

Kakashi sped his pace, running blindly across the rooftops of Konoha. Iruka was complex and he’d been hurt so badly by people he trusted. He’s afraid, it has nothing to do with me.

But what is he afraid of if not you?

Kakashi spat several curses at the traitorous voice in his head. It was pointless doubt with no truth behind it at all. After all, it was Iruka who asked him to stay once they’d dealt with Itsuo. It was Iruka who clung to his side after waking from a nightmare.

. . . It was Kakashi that always offered comfort. It was Kakashi that always wanted to stay the night. It was Kakashi constantly asking permission and trying to make up for mistakes. Mistakes like the lake he told himself firmly, but after a moment, his conscious pushed that one aside. Mistakes like nearly killing that chunin. Think about it, you’re violent, you’re overprotective, you’re always teasing him. Think about what he must think of you! He’s sitting with the head of the Hyuga clan having a real conversation about things he’s never told you even when you ask!

Kakashi’s feet slowed to a stop and he looked up. He wasn’t really surprised to find himself at the memorial stone. It was where he felt most at home and right now he needed to be somewhere safe and think this through. He went to the carved marble, fingers finding Obito’s name on pure instinct. If he were here, he’d know what to do about this.

Kakashi tried again and again to convince himself he was imagining it all, but his doubts just grew stronger. For every reason he thought of that he was certain Iruka cared for him, there were three arguments for the opposite. Iruka blushed every time Kakashi bought him some stupid gift. But Iruka also blushed when he was furious, he even blushed when he was scared, on occasion. And the teacher certainly enjoyed it when they were together, but he had enjoyed many of the encounters he’d had in the past on a purely physical level and had still been suffering horribly.

He’d never even told Kakashi about any of it. He knew names and he knew some of what had been done to him, but it was all from his own research and what he’d heard from Neji, Shino and the others. Iruka had never told him anything. He knew that Iruka had gone to Mizuki and then the bastard had turned the relationship around, but he didn’t know when. He’d memorized every scar on the teacher’s body, but had no idea which were from missions or common injuries and which had been less pleasant in acquisition. Now he’d heard a few details from Iruka’s own lips, but the words had been directed at someone else – at that prude of a Hyuga for crying out loud!

Kakashi’s knees gave out and he sunk to the ground and leaned his head against the cool stone. It all came back to one thing. He had no idea how Iruka felt. He thought he did, but now he wasn’t so sure. A tear slipped from the sharingan and Kakashi shuddered. For the first time in four months, he didn’t know what Iruka felt, but there was no doubt about what he felt for Iruka. Only one force on Earth could bring Sharingan Kakashi to his knees, more and more tears streaking into his mask. He loved Iruka. And he had no idea what to do now.

-o-o-o- Iruka, age 21 -o-o-o-

Iruka stretched where he sat at the mission’s desk. He raised his arms over his head carefully, arching his back just to the point that the wound in his side stretched enough to be painful. He straightened and took a deep breath, ignoring the way that, too, stretched the injury, and shuffled the papers on the desk. It really would heal faster if he spoke with a medi-nin. Hell, it would heal faster if he just favored it and didn’t push himself so hard. The only reason he wasn’t recovered already was that he hadn’t changed his schedule or taken time off, just went about his classes as normal, doing what he could to move normally. It hadn’t really been a problem after the first week and was only a minor irritation now.

Iruka sighed again, glancing at the clock. It was nearing midnight – Iruka had the last shift tonight – and he was only waiting for one last report before he could go home and collapse. The report was due more than three hours ago, but the silver-haired ninja turning it in was famous for doing this. Iruka was lucky enough to never have been kept late waiting for the jounin, but it looked like tonight might be the night. Five to midnight and the door swung open on silent hinges. “Finally,” Iruka muttered, reaching for the pen he’d need to file the paper away.

“You were waiting for me?”

Iruka blinked at the man in the doorway. That was not Kakashi. “Rinshi? What are you doing here?”

The man smiled and walked over to the desk. “Wanted to talk to you. Why are you here so late?” Iruka muttered something about incorrigible jounin with horrid punctuality and Rinshi laughed. “Yeah, Kakashi’s a freaky one all right. Damn good ninja, though. You know, he won’t show up if the desk’s officially closed, you may as well just leave and let first shift deal with it in the morning.”

Iruka shook his head, glancing at the clock again. “He’s always here before the shift is over, but it’s usually just a few seconds before midnight. I’ve heard horror stories from other chunin about being kept hours after just to make sense of his jumbled reports. Never had the pleasure myself, until now.”

Rinshi laughed for a moment before just smiling at Iruka. “Well then we have a couple minutes before he shows up. I wanted to ask you something.” Iruka made a ‘go on’ noise. “Mizuki was telling me about . . . about how you got hurt a couple weeks ago.” Iruka felt himself pale and began shuffling papers again to cover it. “I was wondering if what he said was true.”

Iruka was quiet for a moment. He bit his lip to stop it from quivering and asked in a quiet voice. “What exactly did he tell you?”

Rinshi smiled, looking Iruka up and down like a wolf. “That you were having fun before it got out of hand. That’s why you didn’t want to see a real medic.” Iruka didn’t say anything and Rinshi’s smile grew. “It is true, isn’t it?”

Iruka’s eyes suddenly snapped up, pinning the jounin in place. “And if it was? What would you do?”

Rinshi stepped around the desk, kneeling and pulling at the teacher’s shirt. “I’d want to join in.” He paused and looked up at Iruka seriously. “If I follow the rules, would you let me?”

“Rules?” Iruka managed to squeak.

“Not to hurt you, of course. And not to do anything that could get you into trouble, with the Hokage or the school.”

Iruka bit his tongue gently, mind working quickly to sort through this. If he said no . . . what would Mizuki do, or Rinshi himself? He had to think of his students, too, Naruto especially was coming to depend on him. And he owed Rinshi his life. Carefully he nodded his consent – and nearly bit through his tongue when the other man’s fingers stroked down his side, loosening the hem of his pants.

Iruka jumped a foot when the door opened again on silent hinges. His cheeks were set ablaze in a blush that would have made him clearly visible even in pitch darkness as he watched Hatake Kakashi saunter into the room, thick stack of papers carried in one hand, bright yellow book held close to his nose in the other. He paused halfway to the desk and peered over Icha Icha Tactics at the bright red teacher. He leaned slightly to one side, gazing at Rinshi’s just visible feet around the leg of the desk. The man’s voice floated up from the area of Iruka’s navel, making the teacher blush even more. “It’s not what you’re thinking, you pervert. I’m checking on an injury.”

The masked ninja stepped closer, now peering over the desk at the top of Rinshi’s head. The man had one hand holding up Iruka’s shirt, the other lightly poking some bandages on his side. Kakashi just quirked his visible eyebrow. “I’m sure,” he muttered, turning on his heel. “I’ll turn this in tomorrow, then. You owe me some sake!”

Rinshi didn’t remove his hands, stroking down Iruka’s ribs gently. “Figures, the one time we’re expecting that bastard but don’t want him here and he actually shows up.”

“S-stop,” Iruka muttered, cheeks still crimson.

Rinshi ignored him, gently unzipping his pants and working one hand between his legs. “Relax, now that he has come and gone, we know for a fact we have this place to ourselves until first shift shows up in six hours.” Iruka wrapped shaking hands around Rinshi’s wrists, but hesitated. This is what you get when you fight. He didn’t resist as Rinshi licked at him cautiously. “Don’t be afraid, Iruka. I’m not going to hurt you. You’ll even enjoy it. I promise, all right?” Glancing up at the teacher, he closed his mouth around just his head, making a quick ‘hmm’ question. Iruka’s back arched suddenly, a small cry of pleasure coming from him and Rinshi smiled. Certainly looked like a yes to him.

-o-o-o-o-o-