Round and Round (Just give it time)

by Inkly

Summary:

Iruka gets stuck in a time loop, falls in love, and dies. Not in that order.

Notes:

Naruto canon sucks, so this is a semi-AU.

Iruka takes in Naruto when he's still a child and Iruka gets to have some flavor as a treat.

Thank you whippedcloudsofcream for being a great friend. <3

Chapter 1

His day always started at 5, at the breaking of the day, like clockwork. Iruka rolled onto his back and stared at the clock hanging on the wall. He rubbed his hand over his face blearily, still feeling tired from the night before. He had forced himself to finish grading the last batch of homework to try and ease the load for the rest of the week. At least today he only had a half shift at the Mission’s desk, something he’s grateful for.

Every workday started the same for him: wake up, take a shower, make some sort of breakfast, brush his teeth, and walk to the academy. It was pleasant, a routine that he gratefully didn’t have to deviate much from, a routine that was a luxury that few shinobi had. He liked teaching and wasn’t one to shy away from the benefits that came with it.

The crisp and cool air is pleasant, not yet warmed by the sun this early, so he lets himself relax on the walk to the school. The absence of smaller feet walking beside him is still jarring.

This early in the morning, there’s only a few of the civilian shopkeepers prepping their booths, most of them elderly who wave at him, happy enough to see another recognizable face to greet the day with. Some other Chuunins and Jounins are already strolling around, either heading off on or returning from missions. Izumo and Kotestu are heading off to morning guard duty, happy enough to trade jeers and laughter with him when their paths cross.

It isn’t until 6 that he gets to unlock the door to his classroom, spreads out stacks of homework so he can easily pass them back, and starts writing reminders on the blackboard. A little bit before 7, the pre-genin begin to wander in, so he takes the time to smile pleasantly and greet each of them. Moegi and Konohamaru shoot him wide smiles, the kind usually reserved for conniving pranks and a precursor to a long day of mischief.

By the time class finished, the group of children had tried to pull four pranks on him. He can’t quite bring himself to chastise them. Konohamaru was finally starting to perk back up after the death of his grandfather and the departure of Naruto. The absence of the Sandaime still feels fresh, even to him. Sometimes something will happen that makes him want to get counsel from the Third. The knowledge that he will never be able to sit down with him again is too closely associated with his parents.

Iruka rubbed at his chest, felt the rough canvas of his flak vest, felt the drop in his chest at the reminder of Naruto’s absence in the village. It’ll be a long time before he will see him again.

His home feels empty now, the spare room quiet and still for the first time in many years. He can’t shake the creeping awareness that he is suffering from empty nest syndrome. Anko had come over last week to try and break his routine, which worked admirably well until dinner rolled around. Iruka had decided to cook and set out the plates while talking to Anko about some general village gossip. It wasn’t until Anko shot him a narrow-eyed look that he realized he set out three plates instead of two.

Iruka had stared down at the empty third plate vacantly, feeling decidedly caught red handed, until Anko tucked the plate back into the cupboard for him. He leaned back against the counters, shut his eyes in frustration, and didn’t say anything for a couple minutes. For once, Anko just waited until he felt ready to come back to reality.

“It’s just,” He started, eyebrows furrowed while he poked at the tonkatsu before sighing frustratedly, “it’s been a long time since I didn’t have Naruto around.”

Iruka rested his chopsticks on the plate, “I feel like I’m not sure what to do without someone to take care of. I didn’t think I’d feel like this. I don’t know if I’m even allowed to feel like this really, I should’ve done more for him.”

Anko snorted and shook her head, “I don’t know what more you could’ve done, Iruka-kun, you were the only one who decided to take him in. You’ve been good to him and he’d agree with me. The kid thinks you’re the greatest person in the world.”

Iruka supposed that Anko was right even though he felt unsure about it at the time. Naruto had found him first after all. The blond kid had been 5 at the time, much too young to be scampering about the village unattended and had been sobbing when older kids were throwing bottles at him. Adults tended to avoid Naruto for the most part, but teens who absorbed what the village said about the child were vicious.

After the teens scattered from the Chuunin, he had gathered the blond in his arms and had took him home. Iruka remembered setting Naruto on the closed toilet, remembered taking the so, so small hands in his own to pick out glass fragments. His heart throbbed at the look of guarded wonderment that Naruto watched everything with. It was obvious that this was the first time that an adult had taken the time to gently clean and cover his injuries.

It took a couple months before Naruto trusted him enough to take up the offer of Iruka’s spare room. Iruka didn’t regret it, but he almost wished that he had gotten Naruto from the beginning. But he was only 19 going on 20 back then and still training to become a full time teacher at the academy. It was hard enough to suddenly be responsible for a small child at the time.

Iruka shook himself from his thoughts, refocusing on the tired looking shinobi holding out a mission report in front of him. He gave them a small professional smile and unrolled the report. It was reasonable, clear, and concise thankfully. Iruka stamped it, knowing that the red approval on the bottom right corner is most likely a relief for the man in front of him. No one liked having to entirely re-write a report.

A half hour before his shift ended, Kakashi sauntered into the room, nose buried into the Icha Icha book of the day and report scroll in his right hand. The Jounin flicked his eye over the room quickly and then got into Iruka’s line to wait.

“Maa, you look tired sensei,” Kakashi said, tone uninterested, as he offers his report. He shut the Icha Icha book with a quiet thump and tucked it into the pocket of his vest.

Iruka’s professional smile dropped. He was tired, that was true, but it really wasn’t any of Kakashi’s business. The Jounin in general always did manage to get on his nerves.

“Good evening Kakashi-sensei, thank you for your report.”

He unfurled the green scroll, already expecting the horrible chicken scratch that covered the paper. For being one of the best Jounin in the village, Kakashi had apparently skipped all of the handwriting lessons. Master of a thousand jutsus, novice at writing.

The first couple times, Iruka had requested that Kakashi rewrite his reports, but eventually he just accepted that the terrible scrawl wasn’t going to change much. At least Kakashi didn’t try to hand in unreadable scrolls covered in mud anymore.

The henohenomoheji signature that stares back at him is still a taunt though.

“Kakashi-sensei,” Iruka starts, tapping the offending face, “I’ve told you many times before, but this can’t be accepted as a signature. Can you please sign it correctly?”

Kakashi blinks at him, clearly unconcerned that this is part of a repetitive routine of Iruka making him re-sign paperwork. “Ah, well you see, Iruka-sensei, I don’t have a pen.”

This is a familiar pattern, a nice back and forth that came like clockwork. Iruka offers one of his own pens threateningly. The black plastic of the pen was a poor substitute to the kunai he was imagining.

Kakashi grabs it, his long fingers briefly touching Iruka’s own before Iruka can let go. The Jounin draws a single line through the henohenomoheji then signs it with his usual unreadable signature.

“Thank you,” Iruka says, stamping the fixed report approved, and expects that Kakashi will already be gone when he looks back up. It’s a mild surprise that the Jounin is still standing in his spot.

Raising an eyebrow, Iruka asks, “Is there something else I can do for you, Kakashi-sensei?”

He can clearly see the other man shifts his weight to his other leg, “Yes actually. I got a letter you might be interested in. And, ah, I need to talk to you about something.”

He can feel the happy smile stretching across his cheeks. A letter could only mean that it was from Naruto. Any word from the kid was a delight, since it’d already been almost 6 months since he left. Iruka’s sure that he’s imagining the faint pink color on Kakashi’s visible cheek and the top of his ear.

Iruka nods, “Of course, thank you. Do you want to meet at Ichiraku sometime tonight? I get off earlier today, so how about 9? It’ll be nice to have company there since, well, you know.”

This seems like the right thing to say because Kakashi relaxes just slightly more and nods along lazily. He’s already pulling his erotica book out again and is wandering out of the room. Iruka ignores the amused look Genma is sending him from the opposite end of the room.

His shift ends and he’s surprised to see Kakashi leaning against the hallway already. Together, they start the walk towards the familiar ramen stand in companionable silence, enjoying the rainstorm that’s started up a few hours ago. The walk is pleasant and nice, the sound of water running from gutters and of rain hitting cement a relaxing backdrop. All in all, it’s shaping up to be a good day until they hear a loud booming sound from the village wall, and they take off to investigate.

It turns out to be a group of Sound nin, apparently ready to start trouble so soon after the Chuunin exam nightmare. The small group of enemy nin consists of a wild, blue haired woman with jagged and spiked teeth, another smaller woman with darkly tanned skin and red hair, two burly men who looked ready to crush anyone they could, and a slinky looking purple haired man with a chest full of strapped on kunai for him to pick from.

The fight is already starting, the Sound nin already in a confrontation with two other Chuunin. Soon enough, Iruka finds himself fighting the smaller woman by himself. She’s screeching at him, and he throws up a barrier just slow enough that a small stab of a jutsu slices into his arm. The woman is smiling nastily and attempts to stab him as soon as the barrier drops. He can feel his arm tingling and burning insistently around the wound.

And then a kunai flies across his neck, and blood is spewing from the wound, and Iruka realizes that he is dying. He’s choking on his own blood, a sliced artery allowing blood to pour out with every pump of his heart. Iruka’s going to die and Naruto would come home and-

His vision is already going black around the edges but he can see Kakashi rushing towards him. He can feel the pale gloved hands grabbing at his throat to stem the blood flow, can see the wide eye staring down at him. Iruka tried to grab Kakashi’s hand, to tell him it’s alright, can feel the bubbling pressure of blood and air, can see the blood splatter across Kakashi’s mask and hitai-ate and then his eyes slide shut. He can feel his life slipping away from him.

And then Iruka rolls onto his back with a sigh and stares at the clock on the wall that says it’s 5 am.

 

 

Chapter 2

Notes:

Instead of the fuuma shuriken getting stuck in his back, I decided it'd have more *flavour* if it had just gone up his back.

That was an intense dream. Iruka can’t help feeling a little shaken. Running a hand over his face, he releases a shaky breath. He’s not dead, he’s not dying, and Naruto won’t come home to an empty apartment but full grave.

It takes him almost 10 minutes to calm down enough to start his usual routine, but at least he isn’t tired anymore. Nothing in his apartment is out of place and the stacks of graded homework are still in the same place that he left them the night before. It was a very vivid dream.

Iruka can’t help but stare at himself in the mirror though, and gently rubs his neck just to check that nothing is there. The tan skin of his neck is unbroken, smooth, and warm under his fingers. It’s never been cut.

The wound that trails along his back aches though. The muscles have never truly felt the same after the fuuma shuriken tore its way along his back, even though every medical nin have said that he’s good as new. Phantom pains, one of the medical staff said, could come and go with stress.

He takes another moment to do breathing exercises to try and relax which helps. He can’t quite shake the image of Kakashi getting splattered with blood though. It’s too vivid, too real.

It’s a little after 6 when he makes it to his classroom, already feeling the creeping wariness again. He’s seen the same people heading to the same places, though that might just be because Izumo and Kotetsu try to take the same shifts together. Iruka reminds himself that everyone has a routine, and that early in the morning there’s mainly civilians out who tend to heavily rely on routines.

There’s no need for them to be paranoid, the shinobi around them will protect them.

He greets the children the same way as usual, does the usual reminders on the board, and feels the knot of dread tighten when two of the pranks planned by Konohamaru go off. He avoids the last two based off his memory, much to the disappointment of the pre-genin. Still, he’s happy that Konohamaru is feeling better. It’s a small blessing mixed into the growing terror and loneliness he’s been feeling.

Iruka let’s the kids out a little bit earlier in the day this time, enjoying their excitement of getting out a half hour early. He heads out to the Mission Room the same way he did before, but this time he notices a familiar lanky form sitting in one of the tall trees outside. Kakashi is reading his book as usual, but Iruka can’t help but feel like he’s also watching the tower entrance for someone or something in particular.

A quick snap of judgement and Iruka waves at him. Being around Kakashi has always filled him with something like annoyance, and the scene they made in front of the Hokage and just about everyone else hasn’t helped. The kids did survive the exams, but he can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if they had waited. Maybe they would’ve been able to fight back against Orochimaru more. It’s a useless thing to think about but it’s hard not to.

So Iruka’s a little bit surprised when Kakashi seems to wave back shyly. The Jounin soon uses Icha Icha to block his face from view. Jounins are a weird bunch and Kakashi is the weirdest one.

As soon as Iruka sits down at the desk, he refocuses on his job, thoughts about Kakashi pushed to the wayside for the time being. A member of the Akimichi clan tries to turn in a report but Iruka must send her away. Most of it is blank which is so strange that Iruka clearly recalls doing the same exact thing in his dream.

Iruka’s officially nervous but after looking around the room no one else on shift notices. Genma does glance up though because Iruka must be getting antsy enough that the Tokubetsu wants to see what’s going on.

That’s about when Kakashi walks into the room, several hours earlier than last time. It’s the only detail that’s different so Iruka feels himself relax again. He watches as the silver haired man looks around the room before standing in Iruka’s line, but this time he notices that the man was already walking towards his line in the first place.

It’s just different enough that Iruka is more excited to get to Kakashi’s turn and Iruka smiles just a bit more warmly at the man. This time Kakashi says, “Maa, you look happy sensei.”

Which honestly isn’t much different, but Iruka will take whatever he can get. Just the same as last time, Kakashi shuts the Icha Icha book and tucks it away.

“Thank you, Kakashi-sensei,” Iruka says, not completely paying attention to the comment. He doesn’t see the dusting of pink at the top of Kakashi’s ear.

The green of the scroll contrasts pleasantly in Kakashi’s pale hand and Iruka is just a little bit happier while reading the downright awful handwriting.

The henohenomoheji is there, staring back at him smugly. Iruka taps at it, frowning at Kakashi because seriously, he’s meant to be a genius.

“Kakashi-sensei,” he starts, disapproval clearly evident in his tone of voice, “please sign this documentation with your real signature.”

He’s already thinking about getting a pen for Kakashi, when Kakashi shrugs and almost coyly says that he doesn’t have a pen. His tone is off from last time, but Iruka can’t be completely sure.

This time when Iruka hands over the black pen, he doesn’t let Kakashi’s fingers to touch his own. Kakashi repeats the usual procedure, draws one line through the drawn face, and then scribbles his unintelligible signature.

Iruka thanks him again, stamps “approval” on it, and looks back at the Jounin who is still waiting at his desk. This time, he just arches an eyebrow and watches as Sharingan no Kakashi fidgets in front of him. It’s almost imperceptible but he’s got enough experience with pre-genin girls that he knows that the man is fidgeting.

“Ah,” Kakashi starts this time, “I got a letter for you, Iruka-sensei. Would you like to meet up to look at it?”

The knowledge that Naruto is trying to send letters home still brings a true smile to his face, pleasure bubbles up within. Naruto will come home one day, strong and kind, Iruka’s sure of it.

“Of course. Ichirakus, tonight? When I get off shift. We can talk about anything.”

And there might be something about how Iruka said that they could talk about anything that makes Kakashi turn just a little bit pinker than usual. Kakashi zips out of the room after that, and Genma leers at Iruka teasingly, chin resting on a hand.

“Got a date tonight, Iruka?” Genma asks, making sure to bounce his eyebrows a few times. He’s so ridiculous.

Iruka just laughs, waving the next person forward.

The rest of the day goes just a little bit differently and Iruka tries to be optimistic that it means that everything must have been a dream. Just a horrible nightmare that he can forget about in due time.

Once he meets up with Kakashi, they start making small talk unlike last time. Maybe it’s because Iruka was a little bit more personable towards the other this time. The topic of discussion circles around to Naruto soon enough and Kakashi listens to Iruka talking about picking glass out of the palm of Naruto’s palms.

Iruka feels more relaxed than he has been in a long time. There’s something about being able to talk to someone who doesn’t already know about Naruto’s adventurous childhood. Kakashi is a good listener too, humming to make sure Iruka knows he’s still listening, asks questions when appropriate, and gives small powdery laughs at particularly amusing moments.

Everything is going good and Iruka finds himself feeling a little bit better since Naruto first left.

Until there’s another booming noise near the wall and Kakashi and him take off towards it, ready to fight the enemy ninja. Something slots into place once Iruka sees the same group of people and he thinks a quiet “I knew it” that he has to ignore because he’s fighting that small woman again and she’s really trying to claw him to death.

This time he does manage to get a barrier up in time to block all of the itching and burning jutsu she used last time. He’s feeling optimistic this time too because he dodges the kunai in time. It doesn’t tear through his neck, instead it buries itself into a tree trunk with a dull twang.

Instead, a sword stabs him through his back and chest and Iruka is barely able to turn before Kakashi is using his raikiri to punch through the purple haired man’s chest. He can feel his lungs filling uncomfortably with blood and he starts wheezing. Kakashi’s pale hands are grabbing at his chest now, trying to undo the green canvas vest to get to the wound. Iruka’s so dazed that he just stares at the contrast of pale skinned fingers and vibrant red as he gets more and more tired. Everything is so, so, so wet.

His eyes snap open to his comfortable apartment, rolls onto his back, stares at the clock that says 5 am, and says-

“Fuck.”

Chapter 3

This time, Iruka immediately brings his hands together and says kai while flaring his chakra outward. He lets his hands to fall back onto the bed so he’s laying spread eagle. Nothing changes. Maybe it’s a genjutsu that he just can’t break on his own?

He stares at the bathroom mirror again, tracing the front of his throat where it still faintly hurts, wondering what in the world is going on. He’s died twice already but here he is. Alive.

Iruka pulls his t shirt off and turns so his back is facing the mirror. Looking over his shoulder, he can see the long scar left by a fuuma shuriken from his shoulder down to the small dip of his waist. There’s a secondary throbbing from the stab wound that killed him last time, insistent and distracting but there’s nothing there.

So, he takes his normal shower, taking care to brush against those spots gently because he still feels like he’ll look down and see blood going down the drain if he isn’t careful. Soon enough the strange twangs of pain vanish and Iruka can’t breathe again without feeling like there’s water in his lungs.

He needs to figure out what is going on because he isn’t going crazy. Once is chance, twice is a coincidence, and a third time is a pattern. First, he needs to find someone else to check if he’s in a genjutsu although that will probably be dubious since he might be the one trapped. He can’t think of anything though so it’s better than nothing.

Luckily, Iruka doesn’t have to wander far into the village until he finds a genjutsu user. Kurenai is talking to Asuma, leaning against railings that like the river flowing through the village. Asuma and him are familiar enough to be friendly with each other after the proximity that Iruka had with the Third, so he shakes off the feeling that he’s intruding.

You don’t have regular tea and shoji with someone without meeting his children after all.

“Hello, Kurenai-sensei and Asuma-sensei,” Iruka greets, heart beating just a small bit faster than usual.

The couple greet him cheerfully which means that it wasn’t a bad time to corner them. Iruka almost feels bad, but he’s more interested in getting out of the time loop that he’s found himself stuck in.

“This might seem strange, but I need a favor Kurenai-sensei,” Iruka starts. At once they both look curious. He’s talked to Kurenai before, but casually. Not enough that favors are a normal occurrence.

“Can you check if we’re in a genjutsu. Please.” He tries to make it seem like it’s the most important thing he needs to do. Kurenai just looks vaguely confused and after a few back and forth looks between her and Asuma, she finally raises her hands, closes her eyes, and flares her chakra.

Nothing changes again.

Well at least he tried. It’s just one more thing that he can cross off.

“Is something going on?” Kurenai asks finally, clearly concerned that Iruka is asking to check such a thing. Her red eyes are looking him up and down to try and see if something’s off.

“Ah,” Iruka hesitates, suddenly unsure if now is the best way to bring up what is going on with him. “I just. I just felt very off when I woke up today.” Which is sort of true. Going “Hey, I wake up and relive the same day again every time I die” might be too much.

Asuma and Kurenai exchange another look and Asuma clears his throat. He flicks his cigarette onto the ground and stamps it out under the sole of his sandals.

“Just let us know if you need anything or you don’t feel right, alright? We’re going to be around today, neither of us have missions for once.” Asuma’s heavy hand lands on Iruka’s shoulder. It feels like a fraction of an older brother. Iruka can’t help but feel the small knot of regret form in his chest, he should’ve talked to Asuma more. His father was gone.

Iruka just thanks them, before heading back to the academy. He makes it through the day, stops the four pranks from going off, and hurries off to the Mission Room.

Kakashi is still in the tree, but this time Iruka ignores him, sits down at his desk, and blazes through the reports as quickly as possible. He’s killing time, but he needs to think things through. He’s stuck reliving the same day, but there’s no real reason why he’s stuck in such a bizarre cycle. Maybe he should go to the Hokage? Tsunade might believe him or might not, she’s still newly back to the village and she’s too much of a questionable element to touch right now.

This time, Kakashi wanders into the room a half hour before he gets off shift, just like the first loop. Iruka clears his throat and is already forking over a pen to the Jounin. Kakashi blinks down at it in mild surprise.

“You haven’t even looked at it,” he says, but grabs it, touches Iruka’s fingers softly even though he can easily avoid brushing their fingers together. And for a moment Iruka furrows his eyebrows in thought.

“Nope.” Iruka says, “but I know what you like to do with your reports. Can you please use your real signature?”

Kakashi’s eye somehow manages to portray a reticent air. This close, Iruka can’t help but pay closer attention to the man’s face. It’s covered by the usual mask, but there’s still movement under it if Iruka pays close enough attention. He’s almost positive that Kakashi’s frowning under the fabric, probably because Iruka’s stopped the little back and forth that happened before. But it makes him curious, enough that he decides to try and flip the script this time.

“Are you free tonight?” It’s a simple four-word question, but Iruka can see the hidden mouth drop open minutely and how Kakashi hesitates in his writing. Brown eyes flicker over the signature that’s even more unreadable than usual. There’s a spike in the middle of it that most people would miss, but Iruka has experience staring at the scrawl.

The pale man definitely has a mild flush going on, Iruka assures himself. It’s a wonder that people say that Kakashi is unfeeling because his skin tone doesn’t quite hide the blood under his skin. Iruka supposes that he should be grateful that his darker skin tone hides his blushes better.

It’s Kakashi though, so no one should be surprised when he returns a tease. “So direct sensei,” The ridiculous man in front of him simpers.

As if he wasn’t going to mention Naruto’s letter or ask Iruka to dinner. One of Kakashi’s gloved hands splays against his flak vest, mockingly taken aback.

Iruka lets himself get a little bolder if Kakashi really wants to play around. “You haven’t said no, so I think you might like direct if you have to think about it. Here- I can even pay for you.”

He spreads his hands open palm upward, elaborately underlining his words. Genma, not even bothering to seem busy with paperwork, is smiling a truly lecherous smile, watching the exchange as if it’s the best thing he’s seen in his entire life. The brown-haired man is clearly gearing up for an unholy amount of crowing with the top-notch gossip playing out right in front him.

Iruka would care more if he didn’t know that today wouldn’t be remembered.

Offering to pay is a hole in one because Kakashi folds his visible eye upwards into a smile, nods, and waves at Iruka, “Sounds good, sensei.”

And then he vanishes abruptly as he shunshins away.

“What was that,” Genma immediately pounces, speaking for most of the people loitering in the Mission’s Room.

“Did you just ask out Kakashi?” He’s downright gleeful, “And he agreed! Damn sensei, I‘m impressed.”

Rolling his eyes, Iruka turns back to the line waiting for him, already accepting the next green scroll. Ignoring every question that Genma tried to ask, he soon enough found it to be the end of shift once more.

Kakashi was leaning against the wall, the same spot as the last few times, flipping through the Icha Icha novel absent mindedly. With a pleasant hum, the lankier man straightens up from him slouch and falls in step with Iruka as usual. The presence of the other man is familiar and easy, a weight that Iruka can’t ignore. It’s not bad, far from it.

“I miss Naruto.” Iruka confines finally, finally summarizing his feelings. It leaves him feeling vulnerable in the strangest way, like the thinnest gossamer fabric that could break with the slightest action. Maybe he should’ve said it to Anko, or Izumo, or Kotetsu. He really doesn’t know Kakashi enough. Nobody really knows Kakashi.

Silence settles between them for long enough that Iruka almost tries to change the topic, tries to forget what he said, until Kakashi finally looks at him. His gray eye pins him with a weighted look that’s unreadable.

“I know you do,” he finally says, low and rumbling. Kakashi’s voice isn’t the deepest, not a thick timbre, but it’s pleasant, mellow, and smooth. He raises his hand, hesitates for the barest moment, as if he isn’t sure if he wants to touch Iruka’s shoulder or go for the letter tucked away in his vest, before he pulls out Naruto’s letter.

Kakashi holds it out like an offering to a shrine, rain drops darkening the paper.

“It’s good that he has someone to care for him.” Kakashi says gently, “He knows he has a home to come back to.”

There’s another unreadable look in Kakashi’s lone eye, eyebrow relaxed as he stares at Iruka’s face. Swallowing thickly, Iruka accepts the paper, purposefully brushing the other’s fingers to test, to check, and then looks at the letter. His own name is written on it and Iruka can’t help but wonder why Kakashi has it in the first place, except to bring them together for some unfathomable reason.

Strangely, this is the first time that Iruka will actually get to read the letter, the whole reason that he’s started talking to Kakashi. His heart lifts at the familiar writing, Naruto’s personality somehow coming through in every stroke of his pen, and he doesn’t bother trying to hide the large smile that emerges.

Iruka beams at Kakashi, feels a strange little trill that the Jounin is just watching him, and reads the letter. There are some misspellings, most likely from writing hurriedly, some blacked out portions that were either censored by Jiraya or whoever oversees vetting documents, and tiny scribbled drawings of interesting things the kid has seen. A grumpy looking frog is next to his signature and promise that he’ll try to send multiple letters next time.  There’s a sketchy depiction of Iruka with a bowl of ramen and a crude depiction of Kakashi reading that was made with much less effort. There is also something labeled Sakura, but he won’t ever show it to the growing girl.

Something settles in his throat, makes it feel tight and heavy, and he swallows around it. “Thank you.”

Kakashi dips his head. “Of course.”

And they both hesitate, watching the other’s face, neither willing to break the somber air the envelops them, on this semi-busy street. Kakashi’s normally voluminous gray hair is steadily lowering, shorter strands already dipping against his hitai-ate. An intense look is in his eyes and Iruka knows that Kakashi’s interesting in a way separate from his combat prowess.

“Ka-“ and then the wall explodes and the rest of the cycle completes itself.

This time, he gets to feel his intestines shift then spill from his belly, smells the copper and stinging stomach acid, and he chokes at the heartbroken look on Kakashi’s face.

Chapter 4

Notes:

Progress for our boys <3

It’s a relief that Iruka’s eyes snap open as he stares at the clock. He can feel sweat all along the expanse of his back, can feel the prickling, stinging, pain of the cut muscles in his stomach, and shakily covers his face with his hand. He’s tired of dying. He’s been on more A ranks than Ebisu and Anko and can hold his own among the Tokubetsu Jounins. How is it that he’s the only one dying repeatedly?

The phantom pain hurts so much that he barely has time to flip the toilet seat up before he’s spilling his guts in a different way. The bile is excessively acidic and when his teeth touch, they feel rough, enamel just a bit eaten away. Hyperventilating, he sits over the toilet bowl until he starts to feel better. Twice more he throws up, the sickening smell of half-digested food and stomach acid permeating the bathroom.

The hot water from the shower helps just slightly, it eases the frustration at least.

This time he marches himself directly towards the Tower without even bothering to notify the Academy that he’ll be tardy today. The other teachers can handle it this time because it just won’t matter. There’s no future.

“Hokage-sama,” He starts, knocking on the door frantically, his tone of voice just off enough that he’s let in.

“Can I help you, Iruka-sensei?” Tsunade asks, a blonde eyebrow arched. She’s flipping through documents, glasses on her nose, only mildly curious why the teacher is in her office so early.

“I need you to believe me,” He says, “I’m going to tell you something, but you need to listen to me.”

He doesn’t feel like being treated like he’s losing it. Tsunade’s hands still, the paper in her hand forgotten. It’s not normal for Iruka to come here, no longer a place of comfort for him, outside of report deliveries.

“Is something wrong?”

Iruka tries to explain the past three re-lived days he’s had as best he can, says that it’s not a genjutsu, and Tsunade listens. She’s not outright dismissing him, turns to look at the wall surrounding their village, and says something to Shizune that’s too low for him to hear.

“You have no reason to lie to me,” Tsunade starts, tracking Shizune as she leaves the room, “We’re going to send out a tracking team to try and find the Sound ninja you reported seeing. In the meantime, I’ve also called someone to check if you are under a jutsu. I haven’t heard of such a time related jutsu, however, Iruka-sensei.”

A weight feels like it just got removed from his shoulders, the promise of some sort of answer is refreshing. It’s a short wait until Kakashi pokes his head through the window, eye sweeping the room, before letting himself in.

“Yo.”

The chuunin watches as the older man slinks over to stand next to him, seemingly without a care in the world. Iruka does note that Kakashi is standing close enough to barely register as being in his personal space. It’s a new note added to an entirely different mental list.

Tsunade sets her glasses down on her desk, “There is a thing called a door, you brat.”

Kakashi just gives a half-hearted shrug, giving the idea that this is a normal exchange, just like the little exchanges over mission reports. His eye roves over Iruka, the shift of his weight pointing towards the chuunin, like sunflowers pointing towards the sun. How many times has he done this without him noticing? It feels vaguely overwhelming, but he stops himself from the urge to start ruminating over memories. Another time.

“You summoned me, Tsunade-sama?” Kakashi asks, refocusing his attention on the Hokage.

Iruka watches, feeling out of place, as Tsunade gives Kakashi a brief run down of the situation and orders him to examine Iruka with his Sharingan. It all seems a little like something out of a book when someone like Tsunade talks about the situation, like something you’d watch on the TV when nothing else is on.

His heart skips a beat when Kakashi eyes him, the bored expression broken with a furrowed brow and a narrow look. Long, pale fingers tug up his hitai-ate, revealing the red eye hidden underneath, the sharigan lazily spinning. Shadows on the mask weakly define a frown on the mans face.

“Iruka-sensei-“ Kakashi starts, the sharp lines of his narrowed eye seemingly burning through Iruka’s figure. “Like Kurenai said, It’s not a genjutsu.”

Tsunade’s expression grows more interested, any doubt she had withering away at Kakashi’s statement. “What can you see?”

“It’s like his chakra’s stuck.” Kakashi says, “There’s flares as if he’s going to use a jutsu, but it’s bouncing off everything like a mirror. You aren’t consciously manipulating your chakra, right Iruka-sensei?”

And that’s alarming, isn’t it? His chakra feels fine, flowing through his body like it normally does, and it just leaves another alarming element to this whole experience. He shakes his head, watches as Kakashi scans him, eyes raking over his face, his neck, over his chest, and down his legs. It feels oddly intimate and Iruka can’t help the shiver that trails down his spine.

“Ah,” he blinks, “There’s something else as well. Around his feet, it’s so faint that I missed it initially. Iruka-sensei’s chakra seems like it’s getting stretched, there’s some strings that go off in different directions.”

Kakashi hums, finally moving since he first arrived, walking in a circle around Iruka like a predator, staring down around his feet. He repeats the circuit twice before reciting the directions, consolidating the six chakra links into a sunburst shaped mental image for Iruka. Based on the directions, his chakra is reaching out towards different landmarks of the village. One is pointing towards the front gate, another is pointing towards a wildflower field to the north-west, and another is an arrow towards the Hokage Monument.

By the time Iruka memorizes what Kakashi says, an ANBU appears. The operative leans down to say something into Tsunade’s ear, pauses, then bows and leaves.

“I believe that I need to thank you, Iruka-sensei,” She smiles faintly, “The team I sent were able to find and neutralize the ninja that you described. T&I will be investigating, but I don’t think it’ll matter.”

Tsunade’s smile is exasperated, most likely frustrated knowing that she’ll forget anything that T&I finds, in a puzzle centering around Iruka. She dismisses them after verifying that there’s nothing else that Kakashi can find.

Iruka isn’t as surprised as he should be when he finds that Kakashi stays in step beside him. The man has covered his sharingan already, body rolled back into the familiar relaxed stance that is the norm.

“Can I help you?”

“Maa, you could. I can also help you, you know.” Kakashi says with a shrug. He keeps focused on the hallway they are in.

“Oh.” He smiles at him. “I would appreciate that, Kakashi-san. I’m thinking about heading towards the front gate, I want to look into what my chakra is pointing towards.”

The jounin nods and they lapse into what would be a pleasant quiet if he didn’t know that Kakashi probably had some questions.

“This is my fourth time through.” Iruka offers once they emerge onto the streets.

That dark gray eye finally slides onto him. “I suppose you already know that I have a letter for you?”

There’s no dusting of pink peeking out from under his mask this time. He can’t help the slight bite of disappointment at that.

“Yes.” Iruka smiles ruefully, “sorry for spoiling your surprise for me. I was very excited when you approached me the first time.”

This seems to perk the man up because Kakashi softens just a little bit. If Iruka hadn’t started paying closer attention him, he wouldn’t have noticed the small change. It’s like making progress on a cipher, a little bit of excitement goes through him.

“I can give it to you now if you want.”

“No thank you.”

“Oh. I suppose you’ve also read it al-“

“No, Kakashi-san.” This shouldn’t be as amusing as it is. “I can wait until dinner. That was always your proposal.”

He isn’t going to tease him. “Unless you don’t want to get dinner with me anymore?” Never mind. He’s really going to tease the Copy-Nin.

Kakashi waves his hand in the air, as if he can dispel the question only with that. “No, no. I’m not opposed to dinner with you. That’s still fine.”

 And if he sounds just this side of flustered, Iruka’s not going to mention it.

They wander outside the gate together, Iruka in a better mood after dying three times in a row. Izumo and Kotetsu wave at them which Iruka answers with a matching smile and wave.

Together, Kakashi and he manage to wander about 10 km into the outskirts of the village until they manage to find what seems to be the magnet that’s pulling at his chakra. It’s an innocuous boulder that Kakashi leads him towards with the help of his sharingan and Iruka can feel the underlying power that cascades down the sandstone boulder.

It reminds him of something, and when he pushes some of his chakra into it, his stomach sinks as the beautiful geometry of a seal illuminates in the slowly encroaching dusk. He stares at it as it spreads across the surface of the boulder, an anchor in the proverbial front yard of Konoha, and he can’t help the creeping knowledge that someone is actually targeting him.

Someone wants him dead.

Someone wants him dead enough to send ninja to their village because he doesn’t tend to leave it during the school year. His academy job and mission desk shifts keep him roosted, something that might drive other shinobi (his mind whispers Kakashi like a snake) up the wall, but it makes him content.

Trying to keep as many of the next generation of shinobi alive is more important to him than the endorphins of a completed mission. Once school ends, the baking heat of summer has him leaving the village at astonishing rates, his mission stats higher than some of the Tokubetsus he calls friends.

He’s not a fool. He’s certainly smarter than the average bear and he knows it and it doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots. His connection to Naruto is one of the most important things to him- them both. He took in the blonde when his salary was lower than it should’ve been with two mouths to feed. He’s sat down and brushed Naruto’s teeth when the dentist found multiple cavities littering those small baby teeth.

Naruto’s gone with a Sannin, but his father’s a Chuunin who teaches in a stationary village.

Kakashi clearly has thought the same things because clears his throat and asks, “Have you asked me for help before this?”

Which Iruka shakes his head to. “I only asked Kurenai to check for a genjutsu before.”

“Iruka,” Kakashi says, fully looking at the teacher, “I want you to find me next time. I want you to ask me to help you with this. I know I won’t say no to you.”

“Yes. Yes, I will.” Iruka says, blinking at the other man, feeling like there’s something he should register but he can’t think past the looping thoughts that someone is trying to use him to hurt Naruto.

A firm hand wraps around his wrist, “Iruka-sensei,” Kakashi says again, “I need you to promise me that you’ll seek me out in the future.” His voice is firm, the grip of his long fingers a heavy feeling.

“Yes, I promise.” And he tries to say it like an ineffable truth.

That night they eat an uneasy dinner at Ichirakus and for the first time, Iruka finally sleeps in his own bed without dying.

Chapter 5

Notes:

Not me having to make up meta on seals

His chest sinks with his exhale, his eyes slide open, and he stares at the wall. Paper is stuffed in the drawer on his desk, pens kept in a mug gifted to him by an old student from several years ago. The first thing he does once he wakes up is to draw the seal that he saw past the gates of the village that he memorized.

It’s a miniaturized version but he’s sure that he’s copied it correctly. Seals as a rule are things of beauty even if most shinobi tend to overlook them. There’s a reason why an entire village was inhabited by fuuinjutsu experts, a reason why it was destroyed.

Iruka’s mother was skilled in seals, an immigrant from Uzushiogakure, with a focus on combat, a scroll on her back whenever she left for a mission. In that way, Ten Ten reminded of him of her, a moving arsenal all on her own. He regrets not getting the chance to learn directly from her a lot, times like this just an exacerbation of the feeling.

Seals aren’t just useful and flexible; they were visually lovely to look at. It’s an overlap with barrier ninjutsu. So Iruka likes to look at them alright? And he tends to look at them.

Which just leads to this piece of knowledge: He doesn’t recognize this seal.

There are parts to it that he does recognize, there’s a certain level of syntax and symbolic association that is constant to different types of seals. The complexity comes from new associations and specialized markings that come with higher level seals as well as localizations. It’s almost like a language in a way.

The dialect in seal making in Konohagakure is different from Iwagakure for example. Neighboring countries have fewer differences as contact with each other helped blend them together, a person can cross from the border of Fire into Grass without much trouble but the difference between Fire and Lightning is much more noticeable. 

Just glancing at it just shows that it isn’t from anywhere in Fire at the very least, something that Iruka already had assumed. He can also recognize some parts of the seal itself. Part of the base seems to be about grounding and there’s a cluster of symbols that reference repetition. Or maybe it’s about limits?

He needs a reference book. The books and scrolls that he has from his parents are specific to the Land of Fire so he could probably find similarities, but he thinks about the more varied seal section in the library. He can probably find enough information on foreign seals to parse the seal.

Decision made, Iruka starts the trek out of his apartment after making sure he looks presentable. He makes it to the Academy before his class starts to trickle in, tells Suzume-sensei that he needs a substitute on short notice because he’s gotten called in, and then starts the walk towards the library. Asuma nods at him when they cross paths, Kurenai absent from his side, which Iruka answers with a nod of his own.

It isn’t until he’s passing the front of the Tower after trading shifts that he pauses and considers the promise that he made Kakashi. The man did ask him to find him for help, but this is just research. He’s going to bury himself away in the library for most of the day, something that probably isn’t what Kakashi had in mind when he made the offer.

An extra pair of eyes, well eye, would speed things up though. And he did say he probably wouldn’t say no if Iruka asked him for help.

Chewing his lip, Iruka almost decides to just go to the library by himself until a familiar figure calls out to him from the tree in front of the Tower. Kakashi’s giving him a lazy wave, his Icha Icha book held in one hand, the familiar cover shiny in the morning sun.

“Fancy seeing you here, Iruka-sensei.” Kakashi says once he knows that he has all of Iruka’s attention.

Iruka grins up at him, “Ah! Good morning Kakashi-san.”

His stomach doesn’t dissolve into timid butterflies.

The jounin’s standing next him the next he blinks, just the smallest amount in Iruka’s personal space. With some people it might feel uncomfortable, but the polite intrusion makes it clear that if Iruka wants to put more distance between them it would be accepted. Instead, he shifts his body towards Kakashi, watches with delight that the jounin turns his body angle just like he did in the Hokage’s office.

“Good morning,” Kakashi slips his hands into his pockets, “What are you doing out of the Academy? Isn’t it a school day?”

He sounds indifferent, but Iruka knows by now that he wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t interested. He can feel his lips lift in a wry smile.

“Not today. I got a project that I want to research, I was heading to the library if you wanted to come with me?” He shrugs, “I don’t know how busy you are, but I could use some help if you aren’t busy.”

Kakashi hums deep in his throat, “For you? I’m never busy. How fortuitous as well, sensei, I also have a letter for you.”

It’s not the first time he’s been flirtatious, but it is the first time that Iruka thinks that it might be serious.

With a shake of his head, Iruka starts walking again and enjoys the warmth that gathers in his chest when Kakashi falls into step beside him. He did say he wouldn’t say no, but it’s different actually experiencing it.

Together they make it to the library, chatting over light topics, a nice array of funny stories that star Naruto, stories that the kid has managed to tell Iruka. Kakashi’s finishing a story of Naruto getting stuck and losing his sandals when Kakashi had to lift him out of a snowdrift when they arrive at the building.

“Ne, what are we looking for today?” Kakashi finally asks, following Iruka to the fuuinjutsu section.

There’s a pause as Iruka considers the merits of showing Kakashi the copied seal before he shakes himself out of that train of thought. Really, there is no real reason to hide it from him. This Kakashi doesn’t remember seeing it on the sandstone boulder, doesn’t remember the time they’ve been spending together.

And isn’t that a new depressing thought?

Mind made up, Iruka pulls out the copied seal, lays it flat on the desk they’re at and places it where both of them can see it. The jounin hums, traces his finger across the markings and asks him where he saw such a seal. Iruka shrugs, murmurs something vague, and asks Kakashi if he recognizes what country the seal may be from. The taller man doesn’t ask any more questions about the origins of it, even though Iruka knows that he’ll ask about it again later.

Kakashi’s pointer finger traces over the black ink, follows the brush strokes slowly for a moment before saying that it reminds him of Swamps. It’s a starting point, but it’s weird if the Sound shinobi used a seal originating from Land of Swamps.

It takes them a while to locate as many seal manuscripts that had relevant information, long enough that Kakashi apparently lost interest as he vanished at some point. The notes on his notepad are worth it though. The help provided by Kakashi did cut out some time, he was spared having to go back and forth on shelves since Kakashi was happy enough to search for him.

Halfway through annotating the copied seal, a store-bought bento box clacks onto the table. Torn from his thoughts, Iruka glances up to see Kakashi holding a bento and offering a pair of disposable chopsticks to him.

“It’s lunch time, Iruka-sensei,” is all Kakashi says by way of explanation. The grumble that sounds from Iruka’s gut betrays how hungry he is.

Together, they pop open the bentos, break the rough bamboo of their chopsticks, and say itadakimasu. It’s almost domestic, something familiar to Iruka, something he could’ve seen himself doing with Mizuki or Izumo or Kotetsu. It’s not something that he’s ever imagined doing with Kakashi, even from their proximity due to Team 7. He’s a little surprised at how natural it feels.

There’s something relaxing and easy in the way that Kakashi seems content to fetch him documents and food. He’d reciprocate if the roles were reversed. Iruka pauses in eating his unagi, watches his companion as he eats. And he notices that he is leaning on his left arm angled towards Kakashi and the jounin is mirroring his position. Heat blooms in a light caress on his cheeks, mild enough that no one would really notice.

He clears his throat, refocuses back on his lunch, and eats as quickly as possible. Iruka finishes annotating the seal soon enough, with a better understanding on the differences from Fire structured seals, and a new problem.

So, he gives Kakashi his best smile and asks the man if he wanted to know where Iruka found the interesting little Swamp seal. What follows is a faster run down than what took places in the Hokage’s office (and won’t that get a little annoying) and they go back towards the anchoring seal they first had found.

He let’s Kakashi illuminate the seal this time, watches as the man stares at the glowing markings with a shrewd eye. Iruka draws up the counter seal that he feels should work, places it over the glowing seal, and pushes and bends his chakra into it.

Nothing happens for long enough that Iruka feels himself frown before the glow intensifies. The chakra burns bright and hot, seeming to devour the original seal until nothing remains.

Something tight and heavy loosens in his chest. One is gone, but he has no idea if or how a missing seal will affect the time loops. He feels tired though. Somehow more exhausted that he remembers feeling in a while.

He slips the paper that has the copied seal on it into one of the pockets on his vest and shakes his head.

“Nicely done,” Kakashi says, grabbing at Iruka’s arm to help study him. It should feel embarrassing that he’s this exhausted after undoing a single seal, but he’ll let himself have this one.

They wander back into the village at a lax pace until Iruka spots the bar. He bumps his arm into Kakashi’s and asks with a small grin, “How about some food and drinks? Thank you for helping me.”

He can’t help the teasing wink, “And you can show me Naruto’s letter and I can tell you something interesting.”

“Mm, I don’t know if it’s fair to make you read Naruto’s letter over and over if you’ve seen it before. T&I might make me cease and desist, can’t have you being subject to torture. I’ve seen his handwriting.”

“And I’ve seen yours, I don’t know if your handwriting is much better. I take it that that’s a no then?”

The taller man shrugs, “I never said no, I just don’t see the point in subjecting you to eye strain.”

Barking a laugh, Iruka walks into the bar, seating himself at the bar and orders food and drinks for the two of them.

“Again, I need to thank you, Kakashi-san. I’m pleased that you decided to help me, though I shouldn’t be surprised since you swore you would help me in the first place.”

He watches the now familiar pink spread onto the tops of Kakashi’s ears, feels bubbles of enjoyment pop in his stomach at the sight. That light feeling keeps him afloat for the rest of the night, pleased and happy, warmth in his bones with pleasant company.

It’s 12:00 on the bar clock when Iruka feels himself forcibly fall unconscious. The familiar sight of his room when he opens his eyes is a curse.

Notes:

I've had a rough weekend, so sorry if this chapters rough as well. It's brought to you by ABBA on repeat.

Also I'm so excited for the future smut scene, I'm so pleased with it!

Chapter 6

‘What does it say about a man,’ Iruka thinks, ‘who makes a promise he will forget, but still keeps it?’

It’s a good question he feels. It’s a fair thing to ask, a question that contains multitudes about a man he passingly knows. Pink on white, the graceful bowing of a slouch towards himself, an erased promise kept without resistance; all of these things are links in a chain.

Kakashi is a man unfeeling, except for the fact that he has feelings. Iruka’s seen the evidence himself, and he can’t just let himself collect the bits and pieces without collecting them. Strangely, in some way that Iruka will probably never fully understand, Kakashi has feelings towards him.

The thought is strange enough that he lets himself sit in his bed to stare at the ceiling for a while. It’s flattering, in a way, to discover that someone holds you in high enough regard to develop feelings towards you. But. It also leads to some questions.

Such as, “Well how did that happen?”

Or, “That can’t be right now can it?”

Or maybe even, “Why?”

Iruka thinks that he has fairly decent amount of self-esteem, neither too little or too much. He’s well adjusted enough, has some subjects that he shies away from, has friends and associates in excess, and has a stable enough life. So, Iruka knows his value, his attractive attributes, but it puzzles him how those and Kakashi can fit together like puzzle pieces. What about him can be interesting enough that Kakashi noticed him and continued to do so?

He’s staring at himself in the bathroom mirror pondering that. His skin is smooth and a naturally darker tone, tan with a warm undertone, with lighter colors scars of varying lengths flecking across himself. His body is muscled, not overly noticeable under his standard issue clothing, certainly not enough to turn any heads among shinobi. Ordinary. His hair is usually tied back, a common deep brown.

The face that stares back at him in the mirror is attractive enough. Iruka knows he’s attractive enough, he’s never been troubled with finding a partner. With a sigh, he drops his hand to rest at the base of his neck. He supposes it’s not really his place to try and decipher Kakashi’s feelings.

But then his thoughts circle back to ‘What kind of man, makes a promise for his unknowing self to keep?’

That sort of steadfast knowledge about oneself speaks volumes. It’s… fascinating, interesting.

Reluctantly, he makes himself refocus on the more important issue in his life. Grabbing a blank sheet of chakra paper, he recreates the seal just as he did prior. He remembers enough that he feels confident enough that he can figure out the rest of the seals without having to make annotations once more.

He folds it, pops open the pocket that he put it in last time and stops. And looks. And stares. Inside the pocket is the very same copied seal that he made notes on in the library, Kakashi a gentle presence by his side. Huh.

That was new.

There’s no tremor in his hand when he grabs and unfolds it, no way that he held his breath. Releasing the air in his lungs, he forces himself to look it over just to make sure.

It’s the same paper.

Rubbing his scar, he stuffed it back into the pocket and does the usual round of taking time off, and then stood at the base of Kakashi’s tree.

“Kakashi-san,” Iruka called up to the tree, watched as the leaves swayed in the wind, a mesh of lovely greens.

After a moment the now familiar form of the jounin appeared before him, hands in his pockets and curious eyed.

“How did you know I was here?”

A smile and, “You and trees go together don’t you think? Anyway, would you be willing to help me today?”

A gray eye blinked. The man followed him before responding, something that Iruka found amusing since he’d already headed out towards the Hokage Monument. Kakashi lingered a half step behind him.

“You’ve never asked me for help before so I can’t help feeling a bit intrigued.”

And there that was, the familiar questioning that Iruka has gotten so used to from the man. A half-asked question, a patient wait, the acceptance of Iruka’s explanation, and the insistence that he stay.

Peculiarly, Iruka doesn’t feel rushed to run through the looming issue, doesn’t run up past the Monument, but feels mollified with the jounin with him. Might as well enjoy what he can.

They wind their way up the steep walkways that lead up the mountain, a nice sedate walk that even civilians could take for a day out. In fact, they pass two other couples as they work their way up, the path clear this early in the morning. Glancing over his shoulder, he takes a good look at Kakashi, and thinks the same question that lingered in his head when he woke up.

Kakashi isn’t imposing with his appearance, with his standard jounin uniform with unruly gray hair sticking up in the air.  He isn’t like some of the other jounin who have personalized elements to their clothing. Nothing like Kurenai-sensei, with wraps around her dress, which most likely have some sort of utility. But this close, he exudes power. Iruka knows he’s outclassed by him, but he still is somehow interested in him.

Maybe one day he’ll be brave enough to ask him. Maybe.

When they find the second seal, Iruka can immediately see where this one differs. The calligraphy of it isn’t nearly as sprawling, more tightly packed around its center, and some of the symbols are different. One roughly translates to energy in the Marsh notation- in Fire Country it would be closest to “stamina”.

“Kakashi-san,” Iruka starts, thoughtfully looking at it, “could you look at it with your sharingan and tell me how the chakra is flowing through this? And if there’s anything else around?”

It… reminds him of one of the seals in his mother’s reference books. He should’ve spent more time learning her craft. At first, he’d packed it away because it was too painful, and then it had ended up staying packed away because he never had the time for it. There are no family jutsu in the Umino clan, but they had other tricks. Their echolocation ability was something that had went undocumented until the Third had noticed that he was able to do something to avoid getting caught in his pranking days.

Soon enough the bulk of his training had been on that and his skill with barrier ninjutsu, close to seals but not quite, just distant enough to relate to his parents but far enough removed that it wasn’t painful to learn it.

“Of course.” Kakashi says, tugging his hitai-ate up, and traces his pointer finger in the air to describe the chakra flow. “There are two focuses, here and here.”

He points to the center of the seal and then an offshoot on the edge of the calligraphy. And then he stills, and throws a kunai, and Iruka sees the glit of wire, and then arms are around him and Kakashi pulls him away from an explosion.

Traps.

“I guess we were lucky that the first one wasn’t trapped.” Iruka muses, patting ash off of his face.

There’s a little huff of laughter from Kakashi, his arms still on Iruka’s waist, a comforting weight.

“Just something to keep in mind in the future, sensei.”

The air is starting to feel muggy and heavy, the first signs that it’ll start raining later in the day. Iruka blames that on how he suddenly feels a cloying sensation.

“You can let me go now. Just-“ he trails off, feeling awkward and self-conscious.

As if he’s getting electrocuted, Kakashi jerks his arms back to himself and apologizes.

“Ah, it’s no problem. Really.” The space between them feels restless now, so Iruka nervously starts talking as the dust from the explosion settles.

“My mother was a fuuinjutsu expert. She left me several scrolls, but I never looked at them.” He can’t help by shake his head at himself, “It was a stupid reason to avoid touching them. I couldn’t bring myself to think about her even now, years after the fact.”

He places his hand over the seal, pulses some his chakra into it, lets it flow through it like the water through a straw.

“Maybe you think I was being stupid, or maybe you don’t. I never know what someone will think about it, Asuma thought it was a waste. I even hid the scrolls so that Naruto couldn’t find them when he was younger. He was always curious over things he’d find so he would’ve made me sit down and explain everything to him.

But I couldn’t bring myself to do something like that, so I just hid it. It’s almost funny in a way. I took in Naruto but couldn’t let myself learn what my mom knew.”

His chakra spread like a sickness, corrupting the natural flow that brought the seal to life. Kakashi shifted off to his side. He breathed in deeply, then let it slowly.

“My father,” Kakashi said after a few moments, “wielded a chakra blade. When he died… I did something similar.”

Calloused fingers brushed against his forearm.

“I packed it away. I never touched it.”

The seal dies with a snap, starved from the chakra it fed on and invaded by hostile chakra. It dies as abruptly as any person would.

“Grief is strange, isn’t it?” He asks, more of a statement than a question because he knows that Kakashi is as intimate with grief as any other shinobi. He knows that Kakashi will agree with him.

The air feels heavy but fragile in equal turns, the conversation leaving him feeling naked and vulnerable. He’s only talked about it to Asuma and Anko before, two people who were in his life for so much longer than they weren’t in it.

They wind their way down towards the fields on the outskirts of the walls, towards the sprawling wildflower fields that families take their children to on hot summer days. It’s a place where wild strawberries grow, creeping along the ground, sweet spots of bright red that stain children’s fingers pink.

At one point in history, it used to be a farm, now long since abandoned and left to the earth. It’s flat and void of problematic stones from years of plowing and tending.

The weeds hit them at thigh height, nettles and burrs sticking to their pants, when it starts raining on them. There’s mint in the air, from crushing peppermint underfoot, that mingles with the sweet smell of wet earth. A delightful perfume surrounds them and Iruka can smell the sharp green of pulled weeds on Kakashi. Small bunches of tiny white flowers like clouds dot the land around them accompanied by bright yellow flowers with brown centers. Purple cones poke out from the greenery periodically.

Iruka thinks, ‘What kind of man’ and ‘This is what he protects’ and ‘This is someone I might be able to love’ when he sees the upward crease of Kakashi’s eye as a soft expression. The elite jounin plucks a tickseed flower, and tucks it into his hair tie, irreverent and happy as Iruka rolls his eyes.

And the thought that Kakashi could be someone he could love is startling enough that he reaches out with his chakra to find the seal hidden in the field. The lack of traps is a godsend, but the crashing noise from the forest and now familiar surge of hostile chakra is not.

The short, angry, Sound kunoichi storms out of the forest, eyes dark and mean, and spitting curses at them.

“I knew someone was fucking with my seals,” she yells, killing intent lashing out into the peaceful field. One of the burly men is behind as support and just as cross looking.

Kakashi already has a kunai in his grip and says over his shoulder, “Focus on undoing the seal. I can deal with them.”

Heat and flame rumble at them, the kunoichi releasing an angry snake of fire that burns up the delicate blooms with malice. Iruka doesn’t hesitate to lay down a barrier down around himself so that he can work on the seal in peace. He’s confident, trusts, that Kakashi can deal with them on his own.

It’s better to just listen to the squad leader. This is a lesson that he’s learned well before, a failed mission that led to him realizing that he didn’t have the killing intent that other shinobi had. It’s about trusting the right people.

This seal is different again, square in structure and gives the impression that it can take loads. The symbols curl in red, hot and angry, like the flames that are destroying the flowering field around him. His chakra system burns as he feeds his chakra into it, can feel the different mechanisms imbedded in it, more complicated than the other seals so far. Three triggers lay around the seal, two towards the bottom and one in the northeast corner of it.

One needs a constant chakra presence, so he draws a sheet of chakra paper and imbues it with his chakra, draws a miniature seal onto it. Placing that, he’s left trying to determine which of the triggers is right and which isn’t.

To blow up or not blow up?

His barrier ripples as the burly man tries to punch it, his fists getting shocked up it. He can see Kakashi stabbing the sharp teethed woman in her neck with one of his kunai, looking focused and angry. Biting his lip, he looks back at the two triggers. Left, right, left, right. It doesn’t really matter that much, does it?

Deciding to trust his gut, trust his mother, he picks the one on the left and essentially picks it with his chakra. It deactivates just in time for his barrier to drop, the huge bulk of a man landing a punch on his side, and he goes flying, bounces against the ground, and grunts as all his breath leaves him.

The next moment he’s in a crouch, a kunai in hand and watching Kakashi engage the man. The jounin flicks a kunai between his fingers, engages the man in taijutsu and slams a leg against his head. His head snaps to the side, he growls, and launches bodily at Kakashi just for the jounin to pop into smoke.

Iruka throws his kunai, feels some satisfaction when it buries into the stomach of the sound ninja. Whoever he is, he isn’t that strong so he’s probably less important than the woman who lies bleeding out from her neck in the background. It only takes a few more minutes of fighting to kill him, his eyes angry even in death.

He’s thoroughly exhausted now, a symptom of how much of his focus the day has demanded. He’s so exhausted that he turns to smile brightly at Kakashi, feels his wrist being held gently by the jounin, and he passes out.

When he wakes up again he doesn’t feel as refreshed as he should be.

Notes:

So how about Fear Street? I've watched it and I don't usually watch horror. I loved the soundtracks they picked.

Chapter 7

He feels so tired that it’s hard to keep his eyelids from slipping shut on their own accord. It’s almost like he’s stayed up through the night like he used to with his friends when there wasn’t anything else to do besides drink and stay out late. On the rumpled white bedsheets, the tickseed flower is crumbled up, the soft petals creased from being squashed against his mattress.

Laying back against his bed with a huff, Iruka curses at the blank ceiling.

There’s a knock at his window where he can see Kakashi crouched on the ledge outside. The gray haired man waves at him looking the same as he always has. Licking his dry lips with his equally dry tongue, Iruka stands with a stretch and wanders over to undo the latches.

“Hello Kakashi-san, what are you doing here so early?”

It’s an honest question on two counts:

Kakashi usually isn’t one for socializing in the morning. And this is the first time that Kakashi has come here to seek him out.

The man outside huffs softly, lets himself into the apartment as if he’s made out of liquid more than flesh and bone, and asks, “Have you looked at the time, sensei?”

Blinking, Iruka looks over at the clock that now helpfully lets him know that it’s pushing afternoon instead of morning. Had he fallen asleep again? He does feel a little better, a little les beat down, a little more functional.

“Right. Listen-“ Iruka says while grabbing a change of clothes, “I need to finish waking up and then I can talk to you. Wait here?”

A bit later, he realizes that Kakashi hasn’t said anything, so he turns curiously to check if the man has left already or not. Kakashi is holding the little tickseed flower, runs a fingertip over the bruised petals as if he’s trying to figure something out. Iruka pauses, half in the hallway and half out, to watch him curiously.

“Kakashi-san?”

A gray eyebrow twitches minutely. “Did I give this to you?”

His breath hitches in his throat, “Why do you ask?”

“I feel like I did,” the tickseed falls onto the floor, “but I don’t remember doing it.”

“Oh. Well that’s new.”

An expression darts across the single gray eye that Iruka can see, something that he’d best describe as panic or alarm if he had to. Which, yes, it would be alarming if you did something but couldn’t remember doing it. Sympathy settles in his stomach for Kakashi, who probably isn’t used to being out of the loop.

“Have,” Kakashi clears his throat, probably doesn’t fidget on his feet, “have I given you. More of those?”

Smiling softly, Iruka walked closer to the man to place a hand on his upper arm, “No Kakashi-san. That was the first time. Just let me go and then I’ll catch you up again.”

By the time Iruka stumbles out of the bathroom, tugging on his usual shirt, Kakashi is sitting at the kitchen table and carefully aligning his plate to be an equal distance from the edge and the center. Raising a brow, Iruka sits at the chair across from Kakashi and pokes at the reheated rice and tamagoyaki that the man must have made. Shallots speck the bright yellow omelet. There’s a shakily drawn smiley face on it made from some sort of sauce.

“Thank you for breakfast,” He murmurs, watching as Kakashi stops trying to arrange his plate.

It’s good, warm and delicious, but he can’t stop thinking about the Marsh styled seals. What’s someone who learned in Marsh doing with Sound? Maybe it’d be worth going to the library again.

Instead, they end up wandering along the bank of the Naka River, alternating between walking over alluvium and rocks that all point one way. The weather is light and warm with a light breeze. They’re walking close enough together that sometimes their shoulders will almost brush and Iruka has half a mind to intertwine their fingers as if this is a normal date. Here he is on a nice stroll with Kakashi, and it feels domestic like they’re some retired couple with time on their hands. If Naruto were here, he would’ve already complained about how boring it is.

They find the seal hidden underneath a cliff that sits beside the river made of firm rock that’s resisted breaking down under the force of the water next to it. Another time Iruka would appreciate how lovely it looks, all bright red and sooty black stripes distributed throughout, and appreciated the land he calls home.

 Now though? Now he’s probably more than 9 meters in the air, upside down, trying to draw a counter seal because of course who ever placed these seals would use different methods of sealing. They can never be straight forward, can they? A cloud of senbon impact where he was kneeling earlier.

They had to bring the weapons master that’s killed him so many times before, too.

He ends up having to pull a couple senbon out of his forearm, probably poison coated with something that’ll either kill him or knock him unconscious. It would be more of a concern to him if he didn’t already know that he wouldn’t stay dead, so instead he just focuses on writing the counter seal that is needed for this. These read something about body or presence- he also hates localization of symbols now because he knows that each seal is doing something, but he can’t be sure what they’re all controlling.

Once the large seal dissolves upon itself, Iruka sighs, ready to drop down onto the embankment where he can see that familiar Sound woman digging out the throat of their weapon specialist. She’s yelling at him, but from this height he can’t hear it clearly. From his crouch, he can see Kakashi burning one of the others in a firestorm and can make out the words stop and killing and need being yelled by the woman.

Where the dissolved seal was, a smaller one remains behind. Blinking, he can see where this newer seal was embedding into the parent seal. Some of it was connected to the larger one, used as a grounder. This heart seal is like the previous one, so he puts ink to chakra paper, and carefully writes. He can trust Kakashi to keep him protected.

He can trust Kakashi with a lot of things, he thinks. The man is dependable, has been a boon through the confusion of this situation even though he has been a blank slate every new day. He’s only spent his time to help Iruka without asking for anything back so far.

A glimpse down and he stares at the shaggy white hair that glows a soft pastel pink with the sunset. It’s beautiful, and Iruka wants to know what Kakashi would look like curled up in his bed, back leaning against the headboard as he reads, softened by the warm daylight.

Dropping down from his roost, Iruka lands softly next to the man in question. His left foot bounces a bit when he lands since he didn’t distribute his weight correctly.

“Kakashi,” Iruka calls, watching the man shudder now that it’s just the two of them. The man tilts his head, giving the impression of a curious dog. “I’m sorry about this.”

He’s tired and maybe a little bit woozy. That might be because of the poison that he can feel burning in his veins. He can feel the weakness in his legs, feel his head become lightheaded and himself tilt over. Iruka can feel himself land in Kakashi’s arms where the man caught him and wants to drown in despair that this wonderful man must witness this. Nausea scrambles his brain as he watches his vision stutter and warp, and then Iruka passes out as he seizes.

The seizures must kill him because he sighs and rolls onto his back to see Kakashi staring down at him horrified. When he raises his arms to rub his face, he can see the dotted wounds left by senbon he didn’t dodge.

“Iruka?” Kakashi asks, kneeling by his bedside, tugging his hands away from his face. “What’s wrong? What happened to you? I could’ve sworn that-“

His throat aches when he swallows. Iruka tightens his hands around Kakashi’s and forces a smile, “It’s alright. I’m alright. I’m fine.”

A tug and Kakashi leans closer. And Iruka just woke up from being poisoned to death and has died more than one person should be able to, so right now everything is a little possible. He presses his lips against Kakashi’s masked lips, can smell the faint scent of skin and clean cotton. He loses himself in that moment of soft warmth until Kakashi leans away, stares at Iruka, then the jounin backs out of the room. His chakra signature pauses in the kitchen and Iruka forces his body out of bed and after the wonderful, kind man that has helped him find books in the library and blushed at their fingers contacting.

Notes:

Iruka get yo man

Chapter 8

Notes:

This is a double update and the smut-y chapter set aside for easy skippage

“Kakashi wait!”

The jounin pauses, half out the living room window. He tilts his head to watch Iruka, halfway wary and halfway hesitant, hands braced against the windowsill.

Iruka holds his hands out pleadingly, “Will you stay, please? Please don’t leave.”

‘Thank the gods,’ Iruka thinks when Kakashi pauses then walks back towards the hallway. He can breathe just a little bit easier as hope floods him.

“Sorry for kissing you so abruptly,” He starts, “I’ve been wanting to do that, but I didn’t have the right.”

“Don’t. I want to kiss you, but I didn’t think I’d get to.” The silver haired man drifts closer, fingers twitching, a trait that Iruka mentally logs.

Iruka holds out a hand, “Come here? Can I have something from you?” Iruka asks, wetting his lips with his tongue.

Kakashi crowds him, gloved hands on his hips, but it isn’t threatening. Iruka’s heart skips a beat, he can feel the press of the wall against his ass and back, and stares entranced as the intensity in Kakashi’s eye smolders.

“What would you have of me?” Kakashi whispers, his right hand letting go of Iruka’s hip and brushes against the scar that runs across the arc of Iruka’s cheeks.

This is some sort of test, he can feel it in the air, and Iruka tries to think past the bodily heat that he can feel. It feels like cheating that he’s been able to practice reading Kakashi, but he feels sure that the only right answer is a truthful one. He rests his darker toned hands on either side of Kakashi’s face, tugs at the hitai-ate gently and slowly so that if Kakashi doesn’t want it, he can easily stop him.

“Anything you want to give me,” Iruka breathes, pressing his calloused fingertips against the pale skin under Kakashi’s now exposed eyes, brushing the soft skin gently. “As much or as little as you want.”

He strokes Kakashi’s cheeks through the mask, can feel himself already half-hard from this.

“As little, hm?” Kakashi murmurs into the man’s ear. His voice reverberates so pleasantly, so close, and Iruka can’t help the shiver that overcomes him. “Even if you wouldn’t be able to see anything?”

And there’s something about how the silver haired man says anything that sounds like a promise, an intent that stokes the fire in Iruka’s lower abdomen. He’s so, so, so interested.

So, he barely breathes, “Yes”, when Kakashi kisses his earlobe, the blue fabric of his mask a delightful sensation that makes his nerve endings feel electrified.

One of Kakashi’s clever hands is under his shirt, petting his side, kneading the muscle there. Iruka can’t help the sudden nerves when Kakashi’s hand finds the tiny amount of stomach fat that he’s gotten from a routine of fewer missions and more teaching. A queer sense of embarrassment crowds his mind which dulls his enjoyment of how Kakashi’s practically covering him. Kakashi’s active duty, so skilled that he’s been ANBU for possibly over a decade, a man who is thin and trim. The small amount of fat is just a reminder of how different they are.

He’s half thinking about stopping this, until Kakashi shifts closer, drawing his narrower hips closer into the confluence of Iruka’s legs, until their erections rub against each other, hot and heavy. Kakashi grips that small amount of fat with a groan and goes to nip at Iruka’s neck, a nip that loses its edge by the layer of fabric.

Feeling Kakashi’s hot length against his makes him groan, makes him curl his arms around Kakashi as a stab of pleasure jolts through him. And then Kakashi’s insistently pressing kisses against his neck, warm pressure that he can’t get enough of, that makes Iruka tilt his head back and to the side so that the other man can get more access. A calloused thumb rubs small circles on his stomach.

Iruka runs one of his hands through gray hair, letting out a sigh, tilts his hips against Kakashi, and pulls Kakashi’s face away from his neck in a quick jerk. They stare at each other, half lidded eyes, a pair of deep brown meeting a mismatched pair. Smokey gray and a slowly rotating sharingan stare at him. Iruka swallows thickly, gives another languid thrust of his pelvis, and molds his lips against Kakashi’s masked ones. Knowing that Kakashi is recording this sends a thrill down his spine.

The cotton feels warm and damp, something that would have been disgusting if Iruka’s mind wasn’t focused on pleasure and the entirety of Kakashi’s flushed cheeks, just a minor inconvenience since it removes any way that Iruka can access his mouth. He can feel the plush swell of Kakashi’s lips, a fuller bottom paired with a thin upper lip, pliant and eager to respond. It’s so easy to give a tempting bite to that bottom lip when he pulls away, and by the way that Kakashi’s pupils dilate, he enjoys it.

Kakashi tugs at his chuunin vest, undoing it, tugs it off, which Iruka readily allows.

“I want to see you,” Kakashi says while leaning back, unbothered at the unfairness after he’s made it clear that he doesn’t plan on showing Iruka a damn thing.

Iruka’s flush is sure to have extended down to his chest and he can’t help the jolt of interest he feels. He takes off his shirt, no mesh armor hidden underneath, showing the tiny amount of fat that Kakashi had been petting.

And then, god, Kakashi drops to his knees and plants his face against his stomach, wet masked kisses get scattered against smooth tan skin. It might be a tender action, but the proximity to his dick also casts it in a thoroughly erotic light. Two gloved hands pull down the chuunin’s pants, deep blue fabric pooling around ankles, those pale hands pressing and petting his dick through underwear. Pre-cum has already left a dark, wet spot on the cotton fabric.

Two masked lips press against the wet spot, delightfully long and thin fingers dig into his hips and butt, thumbs rubbing against his hip bones. The kiss is almost chaste, light and quick, if not for where those lips are on. Here, down on his knees, tousled hair and wet mask, Kakashi looks beautiful. His green jounin vest contrasts with his eyes, pale skin, and the metal guards on the back of his gloves shine beautifully in the light. Iruka can’t see the man’s Adam’s apple, but he can imagine it, the quick movement on that lovely neck.

He palms Iruka’s erection for a few moments more, drawing out the horrible tease until Iruka almost starts begging. That’s when Kakashi finally pulls down Iruka’s underwear, watches as Iruka’s erection bobs from the downward pull of fabric, watches as his penis rests against his stomach.

The part of Iruka’s brain that can still think soberly thinks, “Well now isn’t that ridiculous.”

Here he is, naked in his own hallway, pants and underwear in a heap around his ankles, with a fully dressed jounin looking up at him, eyes blown wide and dark with arousal.

He’s never going to come back from this.

Somehow, they manage to stumble to Iruka’s bed, Kakashi pushing him down onto the bed, the jounin’s uniform an easy handhold so that Iruka can drag Kakashi down with him. Tan hands fold into gray hair, tugging their faces closer so lips can meet. Their hips connect with a delicious roll from Kakashi, the friction going straight to their dicks, the pressure so so so good.

“You’re so good,” Iruka gasps out, pressing kisses all over Kakashi’s face, over his brows, the line of his nose, on each cheek bone, along the cut of his jaw. “You’re so very good.”

The breath that Kakashi takes hitches, audible in the quiet of the room, the man’s penis twitching at the praise. Lube gets poured over Iruka’s crotch, making the hair there glisten.

“Do you love this?” Kakashi asks, voice husky and deep, a gloved hand wrapping tight over Iruka’s length, giving a firm upstroke.

And they’re both seemingly entranced at the contrast of skin, light fingers wrapped around a deeper tone, because when Iruka glances at Kakashi’s face, he’s staring down at what he’s doing intently. Once, twice, and Kakashi’s jerking him off and Iruka can’t think of a more perfect moment.

Iruka groans into the back of his hand, legs twitching with pleasure, “Yes, yes, yes. I love what you’re willing to do. God-“ and he does a whole body shiver, his hips lift trying to get more of that friction.

“You’re so good,” he sobs, “perfect how you are, gorgeous, lovely.” He says it like a prayer, a mantra, as if he can’t stop for fear of divine retribution.

The molten heat in Kakashi’s eyes feels heavy, suffocating in its intensity, and his hand twitches on Iruka’s dick in time with a hitched breath. From where Kakashi’s hips rest against his backside, he can feel the outline of his dick hidden under those jounin blues. Using what leverage he can get, Iruka rocks down against those hips, feels the stiffening of Kakashi’s body as he groans, letting his head drop forward.

That hand stroking Iruka’s dick doesn’t lose its rhythm though, and he can feel his legs shiver and quiver as Kakashi works him. He can’t stop himself from watching the precum on the tip of himself, the gleam of the metal on the back of the white-haired man’s glove. Quickly, he grabs at Kakashi’s other hand, presses kisses against those warm pads, slips his thumb past his lips and drags his wet tongue along the top of it while staring into Kakashi’s eyes. A hitch of breath, and Kakashi forces the rest of his thumb into Iruka’s mouth.

Saliva pools in the back of his mouth, unable to swallow correctly, and Iruka wraps his lips around it, sucks, drags his tongue along the underside of it like he’s giving head. The gasp that escapes his throat is guttural, deep from his throat, and he rocks his hips with Kakashi’s movement to try and gain more of that delicious friction.

When Kakashi lowers himself so that his face is closer and closer to Iruka’s hips, he tries to dig his fingers into that mane of hair, tries to bring him closer and closer because he really wants to kiss him. Instead, his orgasm rips through him and he feels his legs twitch as that powerful wave of pleasure courses through him.

Stripes of cum decorate the deep blue mask. Gasping, Iruka brushes a bead of cum that landed along Kakashi’s temple and licks his own cum off his thumb.

“Gods,” Iruka breathes, shuddering and uneven, “You’re so perfect.”

And that rumbling noise that Kakashi emits is so worth all of this. It makes Iruka smile and tug the other man back towards him, the feel of a bulge against him a reminder that Kakashi hasn’t gotten off. It does make Iruka feel bold enough to whisper-

“Tell me,” He purrs, “how good you are.”

The shudder that rocks through Kakashi is answer enough. He’s running his eyes up and down Iruka, his hands finding their place on Iruka’s hips, tight enough to sink into his flesh, tight enough to maybe leave bruises for days.

“I’m good,” Kakashi’s voice reverberates through them both and he buries his face into the junction of neck and shoulder, cold cum and hot breath playing on his bronze skin. “Very good.”

The feel of a clothed body rutting against his naked butt shouldn’t be as erotic as it is, but Iruka lets himself enjoy the heady feel of Kakashi’s strong build ringing pleasure from him. Here at least, he can run his fingers through the thick white hair tucked near his face. Murmurs of how loved and strong Kakashi is get answered by stronger ruts and moans from the jounin wrapped around his body.

He tightens his fingers in that wiry hair, tugs gently until he can see the other again, licks his lips. He curses and kisses him again, feels Kakashi stiffen as he rocks his hips one last time, kisses the man through his own orgasm, and wiggles his hips knowing that he’s spreading cum inside Kakashi’s clothing.

In the silence, Iruka grabs one of those gorgeous hands, milky pale, shining peachy in the evening sunset, and presses small kisses to the pad of each finger. He curls and uncurls them one by one, thumbs at each knuckle, turns it upside down, brings it up to his cheek so that Kakashi can cradle his face. He grabs the other hand and gives it the same treatment but slides that lovely pointer finger into his mouth to tongue at it.

Smiling, Iruka runs his hand up and down Kakashi’s back when he collapses on top. Eventually the other man rolls off of him, tugs Iruka closer to his side. A pleasant post orgasm haze settles between them, sleepy and relaxed. Iruka finds one of Kakashi’s hands, pulls it up so he can see it better and inspects it. The cotton is dark from lube so he tugs it off, curls and uncurls each finger, feels each knuckle, and massages the palm.

The intensely bored expression on Kakashi’s face can’t hide the entrancement as he watches Iruka’s ministrations.

“I’ve killed people,” Kakashi says, “with these hands.”

Iruka smiles, “I know. I’ve killed, too. But have you ever killed pleasure, or were they meant for the village?”

He knows the answer, so is content to hear Kakashi’s steady breathing, the Will of Fire a burden and blessing for this man. A village that turned against his own father, unknowably lucky that this man still loves it. All at once he’s reminded of a blond boy who wants the village to love him, accept him because he’s kind.

“You are wonderful.” Iruka whispers. Maybe Kakashi will believe him eventually.

His hands find themselves into Kakashi’s hair where he runs them through the strands. He lightly scratches his scalp, the same way his mother used to. And he’s content to just exist in this sliver of time where it’s just Kakashi and him.

Chapter 9

“I’m not going to complain,” Iruka starts thickly, sleepy and hazy, still pressed against Kakashi’s side, “but I am interested in why you came here this morning.”

The man, who just took a load of cum across his masked face without any hesitation, looks vaguely uncomfortable. Kakashi had looked so confused and scared that Iruka almost feels bad about bringing it up, but it was going to have to be discussed eventually. The jounin looks away, staring at the bookshelf that is on the opposite side of the room, full of texts about teaching that he had used when studying for the teacher exams.

Kakashi finally says in a rough voice, “I thought I saw you die. It was a dream, and you were poisoned. You seized and-“ He cuts himself off, and Iruka grabs one of his bare hands when it shakes. “I came here to check on you.”

“I’m sorry,” Iruka starts softly, feeling wretched knowing that it was real, but thankful that Kakashi doesn’t fully remember. “I’m here, I’m fine.”

He doesn’t want to think about the marks left by senbon that are on his arm. He’s been stabbed and cut, but so far, he’d never had any lingering wounds the next time he woke up. Iruka really doesn’t want to acknowledge that he’s been very lucky so far when remembering how painful the cut across his throat felt and the pain that existed the next morning.

“Here,” Iruka tugs at Kakashi’s hand, “why don’t we get cleaned up a little?”

It’s easy enough to lead the man to the bathroom where Iruka slips into the shower first to give Kakashi the chance to rinse out his face mask and lube-soaked gloves. The sound of the sink being turned on, followed by the rush of water going down the drain lets him know that Kakashi is cleaning up a bit. In the privacy of the shower, Iruka sighs lightly, and drags his hands over his body, mentally cataloguing all the spots that he’s been injured recently.

Thankfully, the senbon marks are the only things that have appeared and there’s no secret lingering wound that will reopen or worsen. Channeling some chakra into the palm of his hand, Iruka heals over the tiny pricks, thankful that he’d learned a very basic healing jutsu when doing his training for the Academy.

By the time Iruka gets out of the shower, cleaned and refreshed, Kakashi is waiting patiently for his turn and sitting on the ledge of the sink counter. His mask is dark, wet but well wrung since it isn’t dripping everywhere, and his gloves are draped over the long towel rack to air dry. With a small smile, Iruka tells him that he’ll be in the bedroom to get dressed and will start making some tea, tells him how to start the shower because it’s one where you have to pull a piece under the faucet to redirect the water, and turns away when he sees Kakashi start to undo his pants. His underwear can’t be comfortable after he’s cum directly in them, especially now that enough time has passed that the cum is probably half dried.

Later, warm arms wind themselves around his waist, and Iruka can’t help but laugh at how sweet it feels, which in turn makes Kakashi let out a small questioning sound. The bush of gray hair that brushes the side of his face as Kakashi peers over his shoulder is something that he can get used to.

Until Kakashi grabs his arm, flips it over, and asks, “Why did you heal those marks?”

“Why?” Iruka repeats, pouring steaming water into two mugs. “They were so small, I figured I might as well.”

He’d been hoping that Kakashi wouldn’t ask, but he also knows better than to hope that Kakashi hadn’t seen them.

“Mm,” Kakashi grunts. He smooths his thumb over the more sensitive skin on the inside of his forearm. Rubbing the bump of bone at his wrist, he continues, “I saw them in my dream.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” A shift of body weight so that Iruka is holding him up just a little bit, “Was it a dream?”

“No,” Iruka says softly, “It wasn’t.”

Immediately, he misses Kakashi’s lazy warmth when he takes a step back. The singular eye that he can feel staring at his back seems so weighted that Iruka fights not to feel more nervous.

“How-“

Kakashi shutters himself off from the world, slipping his hands into his pockets as he takes another two steps to put some distance between them. His look is calculating and hesitantly curious.

“How are you still alive? And why can’t I remember everything?”

So Iruka tries to explain to him, for possibly the tenth time in a row, what Iruka’s been living in. But this explanation feels different, because this is the first time he’s explaining everything on the wake of being intimate with Kakashi. Just because Kakashi may not remember anything doesn’t mean that he can explain himself with any less care and seriousness. Kakashi deserves that at the very least.

Because, listen, he knows how skittish Kakashi must be. This is the same man who has been harboring feelings for him for heaven’s knew how long and had tried to run away when Iruka tried to kiss him. Kakashi is the same person who, instead of trying to have penetrative sex, kept his clothes on and needed to know that Iruka wanted him for whatever he was willing to give.

So that’s why when Kakashi closes himself off and asks, “Is that why you let me, is that, because I wouldn’t remember? How many times have we-? Has this been some sort of game to you, sensei? Trying to see how many times you can use me?” Iruka already is half expecting it.

That’s also why Iruka is ready, grabs Kakashi’s hands in his own, firm but not trapping, and can say with conviction, “It’s not a game to me, Kakashi. I’ve never tried to make an advance on you before, and I apologize for going too far. I can promise you that I am serious about you, I trust you with my life, with me, and I want you to be able to say the same of me.”

Kakashi silently pulls his hands away, and retreats to the bedroom, silent and slinking, but Iruka feels the bright bursts of hope fluttering in his stomach. He needs space, but it’s not an outright retreat. Iruka places a mug of tea on the small table directly inside his bedroom’s doorway and then goes to the living room to wait. Kakashi’s trust is the most important thing to have.

Notes:

Almost done <3

Chapter 10

It's already dark when Kakashi finally emerges from Iruka’s room, still narrow eyed and as nervous as an untrusting kitten. He can hear him make his way down the hallway then stand at the entrance to the living room and can feel the weight of Kakashi’s stare on him. Iruka keeps reading quietly, taking a sip of the tea he’d made earlier, all green mint and cold to help settle his stomach and himself. This is going to be the moment of truth, right here, right now. He tries to calm himself by keeping in mind that Kakashi hadn’t ran off, he’d holed himself up in Iruka’s bedroom instead of outright leaving.

“You trust me with your life?” Kakashi whispers, loose limbed and relaxed, a show that Iruka can see through when he can see how Kakashi’s feet are pointed towards the half-opened window.

“Entirely,” Iruka says back, forcing himself to stay relaxed, ignoring how he can hear the loud stuttering of his heart.

“Really?” he asks again, shifting and shuffling his feet the smallest amount, sounding like a child wanting to believe but also scared at the same time.

Iruka finally looks up the rest of the way, rakes his eyes over how frumpy and disheveled Kakashi looks and nods, “More than anyone.”

Finally, he pads closer, folds himself down onto his knees, and fiddles with Iruka’s arm, twisting it over so he can stare at where the senbon pricks used to be. He brushes the tips of his fingers over the sensitive skin on the inside of Iruka’s forearm, and Iruka can only watch as goosebumps form.

“How much time is left for today?” He asks, petting his forearm and not looking up. This close, Iruka can see the creases on Kakashi’s eyelids, can see how the delicately colored eyelashes on the bottom of his eye arc out and curl downwards. It short circuits Iruka’s brain a little in all honesty and he can feel himself starting to get hard again.

It’s not until Kakashi looks at him, entirely too amused, that Iruka manages to mutter out, “Uh, sorry, maybe a couple hours?”

“Mmm,” the other man hums, letting go of Iruka’s arm, “I guess we should get going then.”

“Oh,” Iruka blinks, “I guess you’re right. We should go.”

Kakashi doesn’t move, but he nods saying, “Yes.”

They sit there for a few moments, before Iruka finally forces himself to stand first and walks over to the front door to pull on his sandals. By the time he opens the front door, Kakashi is already beside him with his own shoes on.

“That was fast,” he says mildly.

“Yes, well. I, uhm,” Kakashi’s cheek flushes the lightest pink tone in the crappy lighting provided by the lights beside each front door, “I don’t want to forget this.”

“Right.” Iruka says, his own cheeks flushing in response to how close Kakashi is. Their hands bump each other, and Iruka feels like a teenager again, worrying over how sweaty his palm is when he twitches his hand towards Kakashi’s. Kakashi, who is steadfastly looking anywhere but at Iruka, very deliberately doesn’t move his hand away. When Iruka does grab his hand, Kakashi does a strange half-aborted jump before tightening his grip.

Kakashi’s mask is still faintly damp from rinsing it out after purposefully aiming Iruka so that he’d cum on it.

“I guess-” Iruka licks his lips, “Right, let’s go.”

The blushing jounin next to him says, “Lead the way, sensei.”

They wind their way through the slowly emptying streets of Konoha, out the gate, and walk through the forest surrounding Konoha at a rather sedate pace. Out here, cicadas are loud and scream the night away and crickets are busily rubbing their legs together. Frogs burble out their deep and spongey sounding cries somewhere in the distance, and Iruka can’t help imaging fat, round frogs, all deep olive-gray skin, and long legs. This late, after a rainstorm, the air is just starting to chill and cool. Iruka’s clothing feel mildly damp, but it’s not enough to bother him. Not here, not now when he’s holding Kakashi’s bony hand on a quiet and sleepy night.

Together, they wander out into the forest, and Iruka’s heart eventually steadies out as he calms. Kakashi follows his lead whenever Iruka pauses to double check that they’re heading the right way. The implicit level of trust in Iruka almost makes him nervous again once he becomes aware of it again.

Iruka pauses once they come to a large, gnarled tree, long vines of leaves flutter around it, the result of how long this weeping willow has been alive. Even with how late at night it is, Iruka can make out how naked the top of it is, and the heap of leaves collecting on the ground around it just confirms it.

Whatever seal is here, is directly sapping energy from this old tree, using it like a giant battery to keep it working. Iruka looks up at Kakashi, who is already looking out into the forest, head tilted like a curious dog.

“Are they,” Iruka starts to ask.

Kakashi lets go of his hand and wanders just a few feet away, “Don’ t worry about them.” He bites his finger, uses a scroll to summon a cluster of eight ninken, and turns back to Iruka. The man comes back, lays his hands on Iruka’s shoulders, and kisses that spot directly under his hitai-ate and between his eyebrows. “I’ll keep you safe.”

The seal on the tree is large and swirling, stretched out along the trunk and main branches of the willow like a tattoo. When he follows it upwards, to the heart of the seal, his heart skips a beat. He knows what sort of seal this is, knows what it needs to come undone.

He slips a kunai out of his pouch, presses the tip against the sensitive skin on the inside of his forearm, the same skin that Kakashi had touched so sweetly, and stabs and pulls upward in one sharp motion. Almost immediately, he can feel the slick heat of blood dripping from his arm, down the length of his wrist, down into the palm of his hand.

Iruka squeezes his hand into a fist, spreads the blood over all his fingers and starts writing against the heart of the seal. Every pump of heart, a surge of new blood gushes from his cut vein, providing new ink for him to give to the seal to cannibalize itself. There’s the draw of his chakra and life itself, and Iruka almost loses himself in the sensations when he notices Kakashi propping him up from behind. He’s a solid support, and Kakashi curls his hand around Iruka’s bright red arm, a large amount of fresh blood welling out of the wound when he applies pressure to it.

“What have you done?” Kakashi asks in a panic, grey eye looking black in the barely illuminated night. He smells like fire and charcoal and dog.

“I’m fine,” Iruka says breezily, “I’ll be just fine.”

Iruka yawns, can feel the hot slide of something wet slip down his arm and the strong pull of his chakra just as he can tell the seal cracks and releases all the chakra it’s consumed in one large wave.

Iruka rolls onto his back with a sigh and stares at the clock on the wall that says it’s 5 am.

His bed sheet is getting soaked with blood from his arm and he fumbles with it, feeding as much healing chakra as he can manage. It’s just enough that he won’t end up bleeding out on the way to the hospital.

He wanders his way to the Academy, tells the secretary in front of the headmaster’s office that he needs to swap shifts because he’s actively injured and bleeding, and then wanders to the hospital. The medic who sees him stares at the wound with a very dubious expression, and Iruka really can’t blame them. It’s a rather large cut in an area that is commonly associated with self-harm, and Iruka wishes he picked somewhere else. But what’s done is done, and the medic must make some sort of comment on his chart since they scribble something down, but they don’t say anything to his face.

Iruka gets discharged just in time to head back home, shower, and eat before his mission desk shift. As he dries off and eats cold leftovers, his nerves build up until he finally sits down at his usual desk. The wooden top of the desk is nice and cool, and Iruka lays his hands flat against it to try and ground himself as he counts down the hours.

His heart leaps into the back of his throat when he finally sees a now familiar figure in the doorway of the mission room, a rolled-up scroll in his hand and Icha Icha in the other.

He watches as the silver haired man looks around the room before standing in Iruka’s line, and Iruka’s heart soothes itself as he feels himself calm.

When it’s Kakashi’s turn, the jounin blinks at him, maybe taken off guard by Iruka’s warm smile, or maybe there’s something else that makes him pause. There’s a split-second pause and then Kakashi says, “Maa, you look happy sensei.”

Iruka will take whatever he can get, and he shrugs lightly. “I’ve had an interesting week.”

Kakashi shuts the Icha Icha book and tucks it away in one of the many pockets in his green vest. He holds out the green scroll, still looking like he’s trying to puzzle something out.

“Thank you, Kakashi,” Iruka says, still deceptively calm. This time, and every time from now on, he gets to see the light dusting of pink at the top of Kakashi’s ear.

The downright awful handwriting that Iruka reads through only makes him smile harder. The henohenomoheji is right there, staring back at him smugly, and he doesn’t even feel the hint of annoyance. Iruka taps at it, not even bothering to frown at Kakashi because seriously, Kakashi is doing this on purpose.

“Kakashi,” he starts, playful disapproval evident in his tone of voice, “please sign this documentation with your real signature.”

He’s already reaching over to get a pen for Kakashi, when Kakashi shrugs and almost coyly says that he doesn’t have a pen. When Iruka hands over the black pen, he purposefully lets Kakashi’s fingers touch his own. Kakashi repeats the usual procedure, draws one line through the drawn face, and then scribbles his unintelligible signature.

Iruka thanks him again, stamps “approval” on it, and looks back at the Jounin who is still waiting at his desk. He arches an eyebrow and watches as Sharingan no Kakashi fidgets in front of him. It’s almost imperceptible but he’s got enough experience with him that he knows that the man is fidgeting.

“Ah,” Kakashi starts, “I got a letter for you, Iruka-sensei. Would you like to meet up to look at it?”

“Of course. Ichiraku, tonight? When I get off shift. We can talk about anything.”

And there might be something about how Iruka said that they could talk about anything that makes Kakashi turn just a little bit pinker than usual. Kakashi zips out of the room after that, and Genma leers at Iruka teasingly, chin resting on a hand.

“Got a date tonight, Iruka?” Genma asks, making sure to bounce his eyebrows a few times.

Iruka just laughs, waving the next person forward.

When his shift ends, Kakashi is waiting for him in the hallway, hands nervously dangling at his sides, and he’s blushing.

“Hello,” Iruka says kindly, “How are you, Kakashi?”

“I’m good,” Kakashi quickly says, fidgeting as they settle side by side on the walk to Ichiraku. Iruka winds their fingers together, enjoying how Kakashi stiffens before relaxing.

“I,” Kakashi says, looking at Iruka with something in the depths of his eyes, “I had an interesting dream last night.”

“Really?” Iruka asks, squeezing his hand, “Why don’t you tell me about it once we get our food?”

Kakashi flushes just a little more, just a little bit shifty until he nods and tightens his grip on Iruka’s hand. “I… I think I’d like that.”

Notes:

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1KTTgTfmyY19fhZEK8o7IO?si=iQ6i_6iNRKqR160O7lU4vQ&dl_branch=1