-o-o-o- Iruka, age 22 -o-o-o-

Iruka gasped in pain, feeling the blade slip into his thigh. The woman above him cursed, pulling back quickly. In less than a second, a cloth was pushed against the wound. “Are you all right?”

Iruka forced himself not to grind his teeth together. “Leave it.”

Hotarou Hyuga blinked at him. “Are you serious? I’m taking you to a medic-“

“Get out of here!” The woman blinked pale eyes at him again. Iruka sat up, pushing her hands aside and taking the cloth himself. He stifled a curse, realizing it was his discarded vest, now he’d need to buy another. “I said leave!”

Hotarou narrowed her eyes at the chunin and stepped towards the window. “I’ll send someone-“

“What would Hiashi say?” Hotarou froze, pale eyes widening at the threatening question. Mizuki’s voice echoed through Iruka’s head, What would your students say? The Hyugas, the Aburames? Iruka forced his voice to obey him, spitting death at the woman above him. “If you tell anyone, I will make sure he knows everything that happened here tonight.”

For a long moment both of them were silent, staring at each other. Finally Hotarou stepped to the open window, glaring at the teacher. “If you want to lay here and bleed to death, that’s your choice. I offered to help, you just remember that.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

Neji had been curious when one of the elder Hyugas had slunk from the compound in the dead of night. It was mere chance that he’d seen her, but once he had he was moving. In his mind he told himself it was a chance to practice his stealth training. Stalking his family members was the best way to improve his skills, he’d discovered. Still, despite all his justifications, it was curiosity spurring him on more than anything else.

When the elder slipped through a window, Neji frowned, activating the Byakugan and creeping closer on a nearby rooftop. He’d very nearly been sick at what he saw. Neji closed his eyes on pure instinct, but the images still leaked through. His hands fisted in his clothing, not wanting to be witness to this.

Then it all stopped, very suddenly. Neji focused more closely, staring in shock at the blood trickling down his teacher’s leg. The two adults had a brief argument and Neji valiantly wished his ears were as sharp as his eyes. Then the elder Hyuga was moving and Neji huddled close to the wall of the roof, hoping not to be seen.

Inside the apartment, Iruka was moving again. He pulled himself to one side, not using his legs as he moved. He quickly rifled through his weapons pouch, pulling something into his hands. Neji watched in fascination identifying a kunai and a slip of paper. Was that an exploding tag? Well, that was one way of getting help, he supposed. The thought was barely out of his head when Iruka twisted, hurling the kunai out his window.

Shocked, Neji sprinted towards the projectile. It hit the ground with a bang and a cloud of smoke. Neji stooped, scooping up the kunai to look at it without stopping. He dropped off the roof into an alley, not slowing his pace until he was far enough away not to be picked up by the patrolling ninja that would have been drawn by the blast. Another slip of paper was attached to the weapon and Neji unfurled it to reveal a single word. Rinshi.

Neji frowned more, scanning the village with the Byakugan still activated. Rinshi was a jounin, a tall, strong ninja that should live nearby, if he remembered correctly. Locating the house, Neji took off at a run again, neatly dropping through the window of the ground level home. He gasped, startled as a heavy arm settled across his chest, the cold tip of a kunai brushing his throat.

Rinshi stilled, blinking at the boy he’d just pinned to the wall. “You’re an academy student.”

Neji blinked, struggling to calm his breath again. “Iruka needs you,” was all he muttered.

Rinshi’s head dropped and he released the boy, already moving towards the door at a quick pace. “Shit.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

Iruka was propped vaguely against the wall when Rinshi landed on the window. One look at the teacher’s wound and he cursed again, crouching quickly beside him. “You need to go to a medic, ‘Ruka.”

The chunin glared at him. “If I wanted a medi-nin, I would have put their name on the paper or called the ANBU here.”

“I can’t heal this! Iruka-“

Iruka’s face fell slightly with an obvious grimace. He mumbled in a much smaller voice, “I’ve nearly stopped the bleeding. Can you please . . . just . . .”

“Bleeding isn’t the issue! There’s muscle damage here, and tendons!” The cut was on his inner thigh, close to the junction of his hip and deep. “This is too serious to treat with field care if you want to keep that leg. This is why you need to be careful with knife play. I don’t use blades with you and you shouldn’t let someone else either.”

Iruka’s eyes fell shut, his brow knitted in concentration. “It wasn’t her fault. Please Rinshi, just . . . try. I’m not incompetent, I can help with the healing myself. I can control my chakra-“

Rinshi made a frustrated noise and pressed their makeshift cloth firmly into the wound. Iruka stuttered to a halt, choking on a groan of pain that he couldn’t quite stifle. “This is serious, ‘Ruka. If you won’t let me take you to the hospital, I’m at least putting in for some leave time. No missions, no teaching, at least a week. Maybe more, I’ll have to see.”

Iruka leaned his head back against the wall, staring slightly at the older man. After a moment, defeated, he shut his eyes and nodded. Rinshi pulled away the vest-made-rag and looked closer at the wound. The bleeding had slowed somewhat, but there was a lot of damage to the tissue itself and it would not be easy to fix. He would have pushed the issue further, but the look on Iruka’s face told him it was a bad idea. It spoke volumes that the teacher had even consented to the leave time; he had to be in a lot of pain. With a heartfelt sigh, Rinshi upended the field kit he’d brought and began routing through the contents.

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

Iruka shuffled towards the academy, bone weary and more than physically exhausted. His mind was a shambles, his emotions were frayed badly. He had not intended his meeting with the Hyugas to go how it had. He’d made the decision a long time ago that if one of the higher-ranking clans found out about his past, he would talk to Tsunade and let the Hokage deal with it as she saw fit. If that meant telling the clan leader everything, that was fine, but Iruka had never intended to do it himself.

They’d insulted Kakashi. Worse, they’d insulted his judgment for trusting Kakashi. And Hotarou had just been sitting there, frowning at him.

The rumors around Kakashi were well known. Iruka had heard them all from his students and the other teachers. Of course, his father. It wasn’t his fault in the slightest, but Kakashi bore a lot of stigma because of the man. It wasn’t even fair, Iruka wasn’t the only shinobi in the village that would call the passed Hatake a hero. And the fiasco that had cost Kakashi his teammates. Damnit, he’d even been the victim of that one and it had affected him so profoundly to lose his only real friend at the time. It had changed him for the better, but somehow the gossipmongers didn’t see that. And almost no one in the village approved of his teaching methods, Iruka had been part of that group himself until he saw just how effective said training could be.

The rumors didn’t end. A lot of people blamed Kakashi for Sasuke’s defection. Not to his face, of course, but in dark bars around drained sake bottles. He’d picked up the stigma from being associated with the kyuubi-child as well, something Iruka was familiar with himself. And those were just the rumors that made sense. He was a vampire – it explained the pale skin and the mask to hide his fangs. He was in fact an enemy spy – he always was wandering around where you didn’t expect him to be and who knew what he did in those hours between when he was supposed to show up and when he actually did. Hell, there were even rumors out there that Hatake Kakashi didn’t even exist, it was another shinobi in disguise (the most common theory was either Tsunade or Jiraiya, the latter certainly explained why he constantly toted those god awful books around).

Iruka had been prepared for an attack against himself. He knew exactly how to explain himself – without giving nearly as much information as he did. He had no idea how to defend his choice of partner. And apparently his way of defending Kakashi himself was to yell and scream and get so worked up that he lost nearly all control of what came out of his mouth at all. And, of course, once Hiashi had started asking him direct questions, there was nothing left to do but explain himself fully to the other man and pray he wouldn’t be punished too badly for it.

No, damnit, what happened in the past wasn’t your fault. There was little to nothing you could have done then or now, stop blaming yourself!

Iruka chuckled a little despite himself. The tiny voice in his head that told him everything he knew to be true but never really admitted sounded distinctly like his tousle-haired lover. It used to sound like his sensei.

Iruka slid open the door to his classroom and paused, staring openly at the room’s sole occupant. The man looked up at him quickly before ducking his head again to stare intently at the floor. He mumbled a ‘hey’ that was barely loud enough to hear.

Iruka’s lips slowly split into a grin and he stepped properly into the room, shutting the door behind him. “Rinshi, I haven’t seen you in months. How are you?”

The other’s face twitched as if in pain before settling more firmly into a frown. He spoke to the floor, not raising his eyes at all. “I’m sorry, ‘Ruka.”

The teacher’s smile didn’t falter. “Are you staying for class? Honestly I’m surprised I haven’t seen you here already, practically every jounin in the village has been here at least twice for my lessons.”

Rinshi finally looked up, his face a mix of exhaustion and misery. “How can you do this, Iruka? How can you stand there and talk to me as if nothing happened?” Iruka’s smile finally started to fade, but he didn’t look angry or upset as Rinshi continued. “You’ve always done this, too. You never treated me as anything other than a friend, even when I was . . .”

“It’s not as if you knew what was going on-“

“But that’s the thing! I did know! Maybe I hadn’t figured out all the details, but I knew something was wrong and I didn’t even try to find out what.”

Iruka’s breath was coming faster, a slight frown pulling at his lips. “Rinshi, stop. You saved my life. More than once! You kept my secret and I know you hunted down more than one person that actually did hurt me.”

“I was doing the same to Kakashi, too, until he scared some sense into me. Not that I could have taken him . . . ‘Ruka that’s besides the point. What I did wasn’t right. It wasn’t even close to right. I could have helped you so much more, I could have stopped it all. Damnit I wasn’t even one of the good ones, more than one of those scars is from me!”

Iruka closed his eyes for a moment, fighting to stop his lip from trembling the way it was. “No, you weren’t one of the good ones. But you never risked my life and you did try to protect me.”

Rinshi slid off the desk he’d been sitting on and took a hesitant step towards Iruka. “How can you just forgive me, just like that? If it were me, I’d have my ass thrown in jail right beside the bastard that started it all. Tell me what I can do to make this better, please.”

Iruka met his eyes evenly, small smile lighting up his features again. “If you didn’t feel badly, it would be different. If you felt no guilt about it at all . . . but you do. Why should I punish you when you’re doing a rather marvelous job of punishing yourself? If I hated you, there are nearly thirty others I’d have to hate too. Some of those men and women have died to protect this village. Would you have me dishonor their memories by spiting their names?” Rinshi looked about ready to collapse onto the floor. His eyes were puffy and his face was somewhat redder than usual, almost as if he were about to cry. Iruka’s smile didn’t falter as the door slid open behind him, Genma and Raidou entering the room. The teacher looked over his shoulder at the two. “Others are good people who honestly didn’t know they were doing wrong.”

“Kakashi figured it out. Someone should have a lot sooner. I should have-“

Iruka turned back to look at him, declaring the conversation officially over with a quick change of subject. “I’m glad you chose today to join the class, Rinshi-kun. I’ve been wanting to teach Mizuki’s knot and-“

The larger man blanched, nearly toppling to the ground in shock. “You want to what? You can’t honestly want me to-“

Iruka smoothly interrupted the outburst. “I know Mizuki taught it to you and I need to show both sides of it. I can teach everyone how to impose it easily, but I’d rather not have a novice tying my hands so I can show the escape. It’s too complicated, too easy to make a mistake, and if I teach it poorly then the lesson is wasted.”

Rinshi blinked helplessly at Iruka, then at the two other jounin as they went about rearranging the desks and setting up supplies for the lessons. Somewhere along the line, he thought dismally, this world got turned inside out and upside down with neon orange and day glow yellow paint thrown on everything just for good measure. Surely that was the only way any of this would make sense. And as he set about helping the others transform the classroom he found himself looking at Iruka, beaming in the center of it all. Someone so pure and innocent, somehow completely untouched by everything that had happened to him. How could a man like this exist in the same world as Rinshi himself and people far worse? Was this some cruel fate putting such a perfect lamb in a village of ugly, bloodthirsty tigers? Or was it a hope, the one good person left, striving to be an example to the rest of these relentless killers? Rinshi rubbed his head slightly, questioning his entire outlook and life. Fate, hope, or pure chance, the impact Iruka had sure was powerful as all Hell.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Kakashi had fully intended to show up to Iruka’s class on time. Well, ten, maybe fifteen minutes late – on time for him. He was shocked, therefore, when he looked up at the sky to note the time and realized he was already more than a half-hour late. He’d spent the afternoon at the memorial stone and hadn’t even gone to the missions’ desk. He hadn’t been there yesterday, either. Slowly he pushed himself up onto his feet, numbly rubbing at his uncovered eye. With a start he realized he’d have to go back to his place before going anywhere else, to wash his face if nothing else. Iruka’s Saturday class usually ran a few hours, it would be all right.

He was almost an hour late when he finally arrived at the classroom. He paused outside the window, listening to Iruka’s chipper voice as he went over how to implement various escape techniques. Kakashi slid the window open, slipping inside as quietly as possible. If he just kept to the back of the room, he could avoid a lecture and-

Kakashi’s train of thought screeched to a halt and he froze as two projectiles sailed toward his head. Kakashi didn’t move, looking at Iruka as the teacher glared. “When using projectiles,” the teacher growled, “you have to remember not to aim at the person themselves. You must anticipate where they may dodge and aim at that spot.” The twenty odd gathered shinobi kept completely silent, not commenting on the fact that Iruka had changed topic mid-sentence. No one mentioned that the teacher was now lecturing a room full of elite ninja on a topic he taught to eight year olds. Kakashi, too, kept his mouth shut, stealing glances at the kunai buried hilt deep on either side of his head. “You must remember, too, not to dodge such attacks until you’re certain you know where they are going to strike. If you dodge too soon, you’ll step right into the weapon of any good shinobi.”

The teacher strode forward, reminding Kakashi of a predator stalking his prey. He smiled, showing a few too many teeth and Kakashi repressed a shiver, smiling back instead. “I’m actually very glad you’re here, Kakashi. May I see your hands, please?”

For a moment, Kakashi considered refusing. The way Iruka was smiling was just . . . wrong. But it was Iruka. Slowly he held his hands up. Iruka lifted his own hands, a length of rope held taut between them, and began winding the cord between the masked man’s fingers. “I want you all to see how effective this can be,” Iruka said to the class. “I’ll go over this knot with each of you while Kakashi-san tries to get out of this.” He turned back to Kakashi, grinning that predatory smile again. “Remember, this is a simulation. You can’t use your weapons or anything else that may be taken from you if you were captured.”

Kakashi nodded slightly, watching as Iruka gathered the rest of the shinobi in the front of the room, away from him. He glared at his hands, looking at the knot carefully. How in the world did Iruka expect him to overcome it with no warning? He knew Iruka had figured it out three years ago or so, but he had no idea how long it had taken him. Ah, but Iruka didn’t really expect him to counter it at all, he was an example of the knot’s effectiveness. Kakashi leaned back against the wall, starting at the rope grudgingly.

At the front of the class, Iruka was going over the knot with the jounin, correcting mistakes as each shinobi tied another’s hands and subsequently had his own tied until Iruka and Rinshi were the only ones free. “What would this be used for, exactly? It seems to take too long to be effective against an enemy,” Kurenai asked, already struggling to free her hands.

Raidou stared first at his own hands, then at Genma, struggling with his own ropes. “I don’t know, I can think of a few uses right now.”

Iruka rolled his eyes. “It isn’t practical for a fighting opponent, but if you need to subdue an enemy and your team can grapple him for a few moments it can be very useful. It’s also very good to bind a subdued enemy for questioning when they wake up. It blocks common escape techniques as well as almost all jutsu. It you were to get a village leader in this knot, even they would have difficulty undoing it. Of course, at that level they have other methods to escape.”

Sato, a jounin Iruka only knew through the class, looked up at that. “Like what?”

Iruka paused a minute in thought. “Well, Tsunade herself could just flex and snap the ropes, I’m sure. But beyond that, this can’t completely block things like summoning jutsus.” Iruka suddenly whirled on Kakashi. “Keep Pakkun out of this, I want them to see how long it takes you.” Kakashi had his thumb almost to his mask, ready to summon the pug at Iruka’s suggestion. Slowly he lowered his hands, glaring at the rope again.

Iruka held his hands out to Rinshi, the man obediently starting to tie him. “I’ll show you all the trick to getting out of this, but I want you to be careful. It can be hard and it’s surprisingly easy to break a finger.” His head dropped a fraction, “Believe me, and a broken finger will only make it harder to free yourself.” The teacher shook his head, focusing on his hands again. He moved slowly, twisting his wrists in several directions that looked quite painful until one thumb was free. The jounin surrounding him were completely captivated, watching as the teacher worked off the rest of the ropes. More than one impressed whistle came from the group and Iruka was certain they would have applauded if they’d been able. Blushing slightly at the praise, Iruka repeated the demonstration, this time with his hands bound behind him. Free once more, he smiled at the jounin. “Rinshi knows this knot from the same person who showed me, he’ll watch and make sure you don’t hurt yourselves.” Then the teacher turned, walking over again to Kakashi.

The silver haired man arched an eyebrow. “You know, if I wanted I could just sharingan you or one of them and be out of this in a second.”

Iruka just shook his head. He looked tired, Kakashi thought. “Yes, but then you couldn’t claim figuring it out on your own.”

Behind the mask, Kakashi’s lips drew into a thin line. “You know I wouldn’t care about that. How did you first get out of this, Iruka?”

A dark look passed through the teacher’s eyes and Kakashi bit his tongue in lieu of kicking himself. There he went, saying the wrong thing again. “Necessity is the mother of invention,” Iruka muttered, barely above a whisper. “I had to free myself without help, so I did.”

Kakashi couldn’t help but drop his eyes before he quickly caught the action, meeting Iruka’s gaze steadily, almost pleading. “Help me out, Iru-chan. I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

Iruka hesitated before reaching for Kakashi’s hands. “If you focus on the thumbs, you’ll see how to get them free. You still can’t form any hand seals, but-“

Kakashi hooked his bound wrists around Iruka’s hand, the only way he could grab the other, and didn’t let his gaze drop. “I wasn’t talking about the ropes, Iruka.”

For a moment the teacher rested his hand on Kakashi’s chest. “I know.” He pulled away slowly, his eyes hardening. “Do you even know his name, Kakashi?” The taller man cursed silently, he’d meant to find that out today too. “Tohiro,” Iruka answered his own question. “He’s a good man and a wonderful teacher. He teaches the first year classes, the students that have just come to academy.” His eyes darkened further and he corrected the statement. “Taught. He may not be able to come back.”

“Iruka, I’m sorry, I didn’t do it on purpose.” That was just wonderful, the man was a colleague, that just made it so much worse. “I screwed up, I know that. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. If you’d just talk to me about what’s happened in the past-“

“I don’t give details to anyone, you know that.”

Kakashi frowned angrily at him, snippets of his conversation with Hiashi floating through his head. “Then how the hell am I supposed to keep from hurting you?”

Their voices were rising, neither of them noticing the silence coming from the shinobi across the room. Iruka glared at the taller man. “Why does that have to be an issue? I’m not glass, Kakashi, I’m not going to break!”

“I’m not saying you will, Iruka, but-“

“The great Hatake Kakashi, man of a thousand jutsus, genius with the sharingan eye. That doesn’t make you invincible, Kakashi, and it doesn’t make you strong. You could never deal with my kids, let alone some of the other things . . .” Iruka raked a hand through his hair, sweeping back the few stray strands that had escaped his ponytail. After a moment he looked up again. “Don’t come by tonight,” he said, much calmer than he’d been a moment earlier.

Kakashi’s jaw was tight, it was taking far too much effort to control himself looking into those smoldering eyes. He twisted slightly, hands dipping into his weapons pouch. When he pulled his hands out with a jerk, the rope had been sliced and he turned, making a path for the window, dropping the tattered strands as he went. Iruka turned back to the gathered jounin, barely noticing as they all very quickly busied themselves, struggling to get free of their bonds. Those that had managed it already quickly turned to help others, not daring to look at Iruka as he stalked back through the crowd.

Genma was still struggling with his bonds while Raidou tried to ‘help’, mostly giving poor advice in the hopes of using the technique later. Both men paused as Iruka neared them and Raidou abandoned his play. “Iruka,” he whispered, “you want to talk about it?”

Iruka shook his head sharply. “Genma, you’re going about that all wrong.”

The bound jounin glared at his partner briefly before looking at Iruka. “After class?” Iruka ignored the question for a moment, picking at Genma’s ropes. He gave up after a moment, quickly undoing it all together and retying it properly. Genma just watched him, “Iruka?”

The teacher paused again, then nodded slightly. “We can talk after class.”

-o-o-o-o-o-