Instinct von Cosifantutte ================================================================================ Prolog: Windswept ----------------- Neon flash lights. Blinding brightness. The throbbing sounds echoed through the guests' auditory canals, left them twitching and wincing, while their voices were raised to an abnormal volume to allow them to be heard at all over the beat that had the ground of the apartment shaking. One of them rose over the heads of the bystanders, all of them getting caught by surprise. „Who's up for a game?" There were surprisingly many people responding to the call, closing in as a small circle, surrounding the table that was already covered in smoke caused by people who popped into sight out of nowhere. Teleporters. Show-offs! Silently chuckling, a brunette man watched the scenario as eight people altogether approached from all directions, impatiently hustling while they were waiting for the drinking games to begin. Iruka was mildly wondering how many of them might already be drunken by now, his attention getting caught by someone patting his shoulder. „Hey", a well-known voice calmly pressured, „you in for a round or two?" Silently cursing, the brunette turned to see Kotetsu wink at him with one of his eyes twitching uneasily. Iruka's voice was quiet, yet anxious. „Ko, how's your status? You might wanna take a break before I have to carry you home, what do you think?", he countered. Kotetsu's shoulders shook in silent stress as he avoided Iruka's piercing gaze. „'s Kurenai's birthday, y'know", his usually deep voice answered with a husky pitch, and he hurried to continue, „might be my one and only chance to get closer to... oh well.... y'know how 't is..." It took Iruka only a minute to realize what his friend was talking about, and he slowly shook his head. „Just make sure not to overdo things, alright, Ko?" His hand got a grip on the other's while he wrestled his shoulder free and cocked his head to one side to draw Kotetsu's attention to a slowly approaching person. Kotetsu's look followed his. Kurenai. „Oh shi-", the dark-haired man choked out while trying to escape Iruka's firm grip, but the brunette kept the upper hand. He knew all too well how absolutely cowardly Kotetsu was about to behave, having watched that manner of his for more than a dozen times, and he was rather worried about his friend ending up alone tonight yet once again. As uncomfortable as it might be to take a girl in while he was sharing his apartment with Izumo, as unhappy would Ko be, waking up all alone in his bed in the morning, realizing that his mate's side of the mattress had been empty all night long. Knowing all this, Iruka refused to let his friend get disappointed once again, thus pushed him off rather gruffly to stumble right into Kurenai's arms. Tonight's birthday child looked rather shorttaken as her hands took hold of Kotetsu's sleeves and pulled him into an upright position. Iruka's lips twitched happily as he watched the two of them stumble off in a rather dowdy way, and his stomach suddenly felt lighter than before, a wave of relief rolled over him. Two less lonesome people tonight. It took the crazy pack about two hours to get fully drunk, all seats surrounding the small wooden square that had once been a table and was now laced with empty bottles and glasses were occupied by groggy men and women. Some were still struggling to get on their feet, others couldn't stop laughing while their slumped bodies covered each other. The sharp odor of body fluids, alcohol and sweat filled every corner of the kitchen that was now abandoned by all those people who were still able to think clearly. Iruka winced slightly while passing the open door, slamming it shut in an instant. He breathed a sigh of relief as he finally reached the small balcony. His lungs took in all the fresh air they could get, they had been desperately longing for it. Why exactly had he come? Oh, right. It was Kurenai's birthday. Iruka's eyes closed as one of his hands untied his hair and carefully played with some of the long brown strands. He had never been a party animal. Too precious was his peaceful home to him, too beloved his always-too-short sleeping sessions. If he was to have fun, he preferred prude ways to reach his goal: Board games evenings, sports or simply going to see friends who he could talk to and whose companionship was enough to keep him happy. Why there were people who had to get drunk to feel light-headed was one of the things he was never going to understand. All he knew from questioning Kotetsu after having carried him home yet again one night was that people tended to feel more relaxed and carefree when they had raised the blood alcohol level. A chilly gust of wind grasped the edge of Iruka's shirt, heavily trying to drag him over the balcony's balustrade and into the seemingly endless darkness below. The brunette shivered slightly, only now realizing how cold it actually had gotten. „You've got goose bumps covering your arms. Are you sure you should be standing here, playing wind chimes? Your teeth could be heard by opposing shinobi, you know." Iruka's head turned as if someone had hit him. When had the still unknown person stepped past him without him even noticing? One dark blue eye happily beamed at him while pale fingers held Iruka's own jacket out to him. „Kakashi-sensei?", the brunette gaped at the other man in surprise. „How come you are here?" The other's mask shifted slightly and Iruka was fully aware of his invisible smile. As much as the dark cloth usually covered, there was still enough to be seen if one was carefully observing. Iruka was about to get upset with the other man for laughing at him being cold as he realized how rude his last words must have sounded. It was unusual to see Kakashi amidst other people unless he was preparing for a mission and it had simply taken Iruka by surprise to meet the jounin on Kurenai's balcony in the middle of the night. Suddenly feeling uneasy, the brunette stepped aside, forcibly causing the two of them to stand further away from one another. „I...", he stammered, „... I didn't mean to... I.. uh." The mask twitched again. „Don't... don't you laugh at me!", Iruka spluttered, his tongue feeling numb all of a sudden, „I... I just... .. I'm surprised to meet you here. You've never really attended a birthday party before..." As the masked quivered again, Kakashi's visible eye curved up into an honest smile. „Stop being so flustered, Iruka-sensei. You didn't hurt me with that comment. I was being serious though. You're going to catch a cold if you don't get that jacket of yours on." Iruka silently sighed, his breath showing in small clouds in front of his face. He shuddered. As hesitant as he was to admit it, Kakashi was right. His arms were freezing already, goose bumps had started to spread all over his body, and he was more than glad to be offered his jacket. It took the brunette a moment to realize that Kakashi was staring at him again, and he hurried to get his arms into the long sleeves of his coat. „Thank you", he simply said, wordlessly eyeing the other's pale face, as his brown eyes met the single blue one that was concentrated on his mimic. Kakashi's smile was still on his lips, making Iruka wonder what he had thought about that was happy enough to create such a steady mood. Now that the shivering had stopped, Iruka finally started watching the other more carefully, and he noticed how Kakashi's nose kept twitching into his direction as if there was some distinct smell coming from him. Hesitantly, the brunette rose a hand up to his face to push the still loose strands behind his ears. It took him only an instant to fetch a tiny bond from his jeans' back pocket and tie his hair up to where it used to be. In opposition to what he had expected, Kakashi didn't seem relieved in any way but let out a quiet growl. Iruka froze in place. That sound... he was sure to have heard it before, but he didn't find a clue as to where that impression might have come from. And it wasn't just the noise itself. If he hadn't known it any better, Iruka would have watched out for some kind of a big carnivore. The low snarl Kakashi had just let out had sounded rather unhappy. Irritated. Nervous. Hungry. Iruka took a small step back, but the growling was gone. Kakashi's blue eye kept smiling happily at him, while one of his hands had clenched into a fist. A low huff escaped Iruka's lips. „Kakashi-sensei, if there's anything bothering you, why won't you let me know?", he demanded, taking a step into the other's direction. Kakashi backed off, his hands raising to his chest's level. „I'm sorry, Iruka-sensei. I guess you got me wrong there. I was... hm. You looked quite appealing with your hair down." Iruka's mouth gaped widely open as the other man took two more steps back. „As I said, I'm sorry. I probably should've stayed home tonight." The second part of Kakashi's comment came out in a loud sigh as if there was more of a meaning to the initiator than there was to Iruka. Feeling dumbfounded, Iruka watched the silver-haired man walk away through the balcony's doors, the brunette's lips still partially opened in surprise. He turned around to stare at the nearby roofs, his head spinning wildly. The moon's pale light lit the silhouettes of Konoha's buildings against the black sky, single stars had started to show up along the canopy. The wind caught Iruka's sleeves, pulled his suddenly limp body against the balustrade and reminded him to breathe. 'Appealing'... Kakashi found him... found Iruka... a man... appealing? How was he supposed to react to that? Iruka had been told that his appearance was quite attractive, that women liked his gentle features and polite manners. He knew that others praised his knowledge and experience when it came to theoretical discussions, and he had gotten used to hearing the quiet murmur that followed him whenever he crossed a street. Being told how he seemed 'appealing' to another man, though, made shivers run down Iruka's spine, and he couldn't even tell if he was feeling uncomfortable. Was it a bad thing to be complimented like that? It was, if you felt absolutely certain about your sexual orientation, Iruka reasoned and lightly cocked his head to one side. If it was not him who was hitting on another man, though, did that mean that the infamous Copy-ninja, who had just complimented him in the aforementioned way, felt attracted to him? Slowly, Iruka turned around while trying to find the right words to say, but the other man had taken his leave already. The only proof that kept the brunette from thinking it might all have been a dream were the long dark red curtains that were still quivering in the light breeze. „Damn you, Kakashi", Iruka breathed out, a loose brown strand brushing lightly across his heatened cheeks, „Damn you and your weird kind of humour!" - and he was sure to hear a low chuckle echo from the nearby forest. Kapitel 1: Observers -------------------- Blood-stained leaves. Shreds of a dark cloth, dangling from the broken twigs the man passed. Evidence of a past fight. Iruka's throat had started swelling hours ago, when he had first noticed that one of his students had gone missing. It had all started out as a little field trip, all academy teachers had seized the opportunity to enjoy the perfect weather and taken their students out of the stuffy classrooms to make their way out of the village's gate and into the nearby forest. There had been barely any protest at all, even the usually reserved children had beamed at their instructors in silent joy, and Iruka had been absolutely sure that this would become one of those days that he loved to remember when winter came and the sun set at outrageous times. Oh, how wrong he had been. „Iruka", a quiet voice urged, and it didn't take Iruka much to recognize the person that had started accompanying his awkward sprint. He slowed down, quickly crouching behind a rotten stub that hid him well from possible observers. „What is it, Izumo?", he asked, his heart throbbing heavily against his ribcage. The other carefully ducked beside him, his head now blocking Iruka's forward view. His expression was serious. Anxious. „What if...", the dark-haired man slowly started, and Iruka's stomach finally went numb. If there was anything he had ever feared, anything he had ever been afraid of, it was exactly this scenario: A child, lost in the woods. Undeniable traces that indicated a severe fight. He was the one who had been in charge of young Akimichi Choji. He was the one who would be blamed if the boy had been hurt. On their way throughout the thicket they had passed way too many blood-steamed trees and bushes to have any hope left. Iruka was still not sure when exactly the boy had gone missing, but one thing that had, at first, seemed a mystery, was now bitter certainty: Not only Choji's whereabouts were still unknown. Iruka's fellow academy instructor and childhood friend, Mizuki, was also missing. Iruka's head shook in dismissive desperation. „No", he spat out, his fingers clenching a dead branch that protruded into his sight, „I refuse to believe that. We have to find the boy. We have to find both of them. Hope is not lost yet." Those were empty words, Iruka knew it. He knew it all too well. Yet, he refused to vocalize his apprehensions. There had been rumors spreading, evidence for a beast haunting Konohagakures's villagers. Half a dozen people had been found, motionless, inanimate. There had been traces of claws that had ripped their clothes apart, bite marks, alike to the ones of a medium-sized wolf, and almost all the victims' blood had been spilled. Iruka had been lucky not to cross the monster's way so far, but there had been a witness to the last incident. The man's shaky voice was still present in his head as the brunette rose from behind the stub and leapt up into the tree trops. He was feeling queasy all of a sudden. „I-I still can't tell what it was, but it was heavy and strong. Attacked from behind. It had me pinned to the ground before I had even sensed its presence... and that growl....... I swear, I'm not gonna sleep for weeks." The man had been a jounin for years and was now the only survivor of the beast's attacks. Iruka's pace slowed down when his eyes spotted something big, though slumped flatly to the ground, that was covered in what seemed to be blood. Something smaller cowered behind a massive rock, its shivering too unsteady a movement to be unseen. The academy instructor's legs suddenly seemed to refuse their work, his body weighed twice as much as usual. With an effort, Iruka withstood the urge to rush in on the clearing that was now opening up in front of him. His head kept spinning around one thought: 'Why?' The panicking child behind the solid rock had caught Iruka's attention before, Choji seemed to be the second to worry about. Mizuki, though... With an uncertain gaze to his left, Iruka insured himself not to be left alone in this situation, as both Izumo and Kotetsu moved in sight. Their eyes widened in shock as they recognized the white hair that now laid sprawled on the blood-drained grass, the body's back oddly contorted. Iruka didn't dare breathing anymore. His eyes shot from his left to the right, pierced the seemingly peaceful green to both sides and finally locked on the motionless body several steps ahead. It was no good to wait. Reality would come after him, haunt him down until there was nothing left to do anymore, and all his efforts would have been in vain. If there was still anything he could do, he was going to take the chance. Eyes locked in place on the bent back, Iruka took a few hesitant steps forward. He was still fearing the worst, yet still hoping for the best. Mizuki's horror-stricken expression, frozen in place, made all his wishes vanish, all his dreams fall apart. There was nothing left to think about when Iruka's eyes closed in on the gapeing slash that had teared Mizuki's throat open. The man must have been long dead, no more blood was streaming out of the open wound, his body lay still and stiff. Iruka's head seemed to lack thoughts of any kind. His mind had gone blank, clammy fingers caught hold of his heart and jerked it down to his stomach's level. The brunette silently backed off, eyes still locked on the bloody nightmare in front of him. Two pairs of hands firmly grasped his shoulders and kept him from running off, although Iruka would have loved to get away as quickly as possible. His body's reaction wasn't a long time in coming. Without saying a word, Iruka bent over. His knees met the ground right before the brunette started throwing up, once, twice. Kotetsu's quiet encouragement was overheard, Iruka couldn't have cared less about what was happening around him. All he could see was the open gash, gapeing where Mizuki's throat should have been and the aghast look on the man's face. Not even Izumo's lowly muttered validation of Akimichi Choji's decent state thrilled Iruka's mind anymore. It was probably the first time ever that the academy teacher by heart didn't care for a child's condition at all. Iruka had no idea how he had gotten home at all. Judging from the scent of lime and bergamot that surrounded him when he first opened his eyes again, there must have been someone to clean up the mess he had made of himself. Izumo, possibly. Kotetsu, rather. Both of them, most likely. Iruka couldn't have cared less. He felt adrift, lethargic. Wearily, he set one naked foot out of bed and onto the thick off-white carpet that covered most of his bedroom's wooden floor, the second leg followed after what seemed like minutes. Breathing in. Breathing out. One hand unconsciously messed the already frizzy hair up while Iruka slowly got to his feet. He ignored the drawn curtains, didn't care for the lack of light in his room. It must be dark anyway. Setting one foot in front of the other without realizing where he was going, Iruka made his way to the kitchen. Warming sunlight filled the small room, found its way through the large window and lightly tickled Iruka's nose. Daylight? One short look onto the clock that was embedded into one of the wall cupboards before the brunette shook his head in mild irritation. Quarter to six. No reasonably healthy person would have overslept the afternoon. He, indeed, happened to find himself just awakened. Still clueless as to what he was supposed to do next, Iruka scuffled back into his bedroom, silently scowling at the long curtains before he crossed the room with few long strides and drew them aside. Intolerable brightness was let in. Iruka blinked in annoyance, but he didn't move aside. Punishment seemed fairly appropriate to him. Mizuki was dead, ripped apart by a ferocious monster. He was here, still alive. He had been spared, while others had died. People who had been precious to him. People who he would have risked his life for. Again. It took the brunette a short moment to realize that he was crying, and both dazzling sunlight and tears were tingling over his face. Gently, single tears trickled down Iruka's cheeks and along his jaw, fell from his chin and made their way over his bare chest. The man didn't move. Loss and grief were omnipresent now, life seemed worthless for a short period of time. Iruka's fingers violently clutched the edge of his shorts, his finger nails pierced the delicate skin of his thigh. He didn't even wince. It was only when he started shaking violently, that Iruka finally broke down. And it was only then when the man realized that he was being watched. An unexpected hiss came from a nearby tree top, making the sobbing brunette raise his eyes to the window's level to peek over the top of the window sill. Suddenly aware, Iruka got to his feet, his body pressed flatly to the wall, spying over to the thicket extending all along the chuunins' apartment blocks. A flock of doves rose into the air, breaking through the obscure green. Angered chatter accompanied their way. For a moment, Iruka had been frozen in place, but when tears started streaming down his face again, he drew the curtains close. Light was not what he needed now. He didn't notice the shadow in front of his window, smoothly leaping off through the tree tops. Kapitel 2: Misunderstandings ---------------------------- He was crying. The one man he had never wanted to see unhappy was now crying. How could he still look so breathtakingly beautiful after all that had been happening to him for the last hours? The shadow that had lingered in front of a certain chuunin's apartment until that very moment now slid through a tiny opening between two trees' branches, silently dropping to the ground and leaning against one of the strong trunks that towered over him. A quiet huff escaped the person's lips. Damn it! It was the one thing he had always feared to happen, and now that it had happened after all, there was nothing he could do to go back on all the misery he had caused. Reality hat struck him, left him helpless and guilty. Why Iruka? There was only few to think of - and nothing to say at all. If it was for Iruka's sake, he would have risked so much and sacrificed even more – but all he had managed to achieve was to make the other man suffer. There was no doubt as to where it all had started. There was no doubt that he was guilty. He was the one to be held responsible for what had happened to Mizuki. He was the one to be held responsible for Iruka's pain. He knew it, and the mere knowledge caused his stomach to twitch painfully while his throat was burning with anger and guilt. Control was one thing he had not been able to complete yet – and it was about time for him to achieve perfect self-restraint. Without a sound, the shadow slipped through the surrounding coppice, barely touching anything, leaving as little trace as possible. His gloved hands found the man's hair, messing it up in a nearly elaborate way. He was feeling nervous. Irritated. How to find the right words to say now? There was a light knock on the door, and Iruka's shoulders tensed up in discomfort. Who was bothering him now? Admittedly, he didn't remember much after the horrifying pictures that had burned themselves into his inner eyes' sight, but he was quite sure that every single villager would have heard of what had happened in the forest by now. Rumors rarely didn't find their way into the citizens' everyday conversation. If it wasn't for love affairs or family disasters, people usually were less interested in what was happening around them, yet there was enough familiarity left to make them all publish what seemed worthy to be spread. Iruka's legs were slightly shaking as he got to his feet, clutching the windowsill and pressing his back flatly against the chilly wall. Single tears still made their way down the brunette's face, and he had no idea how terrible his appearance must seem to strangers, but he paid no attention to it. Simply throwing on his dark red dressing gown, Iruka ambled for the door. One quick glance over to the opposing wall allowed the man a look at himself, and he froze in place when his eyes met the mirror. Was he really going to greet his visitor while looking this overwrought? 'I better not...', Iruka silently chided while turning around and crossing the hall with only a few brisk steps. He was still feeling resigned, but there was no way for him to welcome a possible guest looking like this. Several billows of water and half a cup of coffee later, Iruka finally felt ready to attend to the bell. He would never have made a visitor wait like this if the circumstances had been any different. Iruka was rather surprised that there hadn't been a second sign of someone impatiently waiting for his approach. When he finally answered the long gone knock, Iruka found himself face to face with a rather bemused looking Kakashi. „Yo", was all Kakashi managed to choke out at first. His lips were still tensed up as if he was trying to hold something back, and he kept nervously nibbling his lower lip. It were situations like this when Kakashi realized how precious the usually annoying mask had developped to be for him – Iruka would not be able to see how upset the copy-nin was right now. The brunette's reaction, though, took Kakashi by surprise. „You!", Iruka brought up with a sudden gasp, as the indifferent look the man had given Kakashi at first suddenly got wary. Something in the man's glare caused Kakashi to shiver, and he didn't find a clue as to what exactly was making him falter until Iruka's lips snapped open again. A small piece of the other's mind's jigsaw seemed to have fallen into place. „Have you been watching me!?" The sound Iruka spat out sounded rather like a furious snarl than the broken whine Kakashi would have expected. Had he really been worrying about Iruka's condition? As depressed as the man should have been, according to what Kakashi had been watching before, there was no despondency in Iruka's gaze. Fingers clutched to the silver-haired man's vest in a nearly stifling manner, the brunette pressed closely against Kakashi's already tense body. Iruka's brown eyes locked on the visible blue one that belonged to the jounini while holding his breath and simply clinging to the other. „How dare you observing me in my own apartment!?" Kakashi tried to step back, raising both gloved hands to his face's level to make Iruka keep his distance, but the other man didn't seem ready to obey. One short breath was all he dared to draw before the silver-haired jounin fell perfectly still. His chest stopped raising and falling while he felt his upper lip pulling back over his teeth to release a quiet growl. Perfect composure. The trial he had been waiting for. It cost Kakashi quite an effort to stay silent. 'Don't blurt it all out. Get a hold of yourself. Not here. Not now. Not in front of him!' Tension was filling the air. Kakashi still didn't dare to stir from the spot. His heart was hammering against his ribcage while his luckily hidden lips kept twitching excitedly. It seemed to take Iruka half an eternity to decide on his withdrawal. The agitated glare he kept shooting towards the other man had Kakashi swallowing uneasily. 'Stay composed. Let him back off. He's entirely right to rage against you.' Relief rushed over Kakashi as his brunette opponent finally took two hesitant steps back, letting go of the jounin's vest, his gaze suddenly turning apologetic. „I-I...", Iruka quietly started, but Kakashi quickly lifted one hand. His head shook in silent denial. It was no wonder Iruka was in quite a messy emotional state after all he had been put through. Slowly, the silver-haired man released his pent-up breath, carefully filling his screaming lungs. One slightly shaking hand rose up to Kakashi's hair and pushed some of the silvery strands aside. Damn it. Why that attraction...? The man's voice was low and raspy as he struggled to find the right words to say. Finally, he simply caught hold of one of Iruka's hands, slightly pressing the fingers. „I'm sorry", he stated, „I shouldn't have spied on you, Iruka-sensei." Iruka's already reddened cheeks turned even darker as he stepped forward. „So you...-!", the brunette started at Kakashi, but the jounin held out his hand again. „Please", the silver-haired man muttered under his breath, still inhaling the surrounding air very carefully not to risk any more appetizing moments. „I didn't mean to disturb your privacy, Iruka-sensei, neither did I want to watch you undressing. I heard of the trouble you've been going through and was worried about your current condition, so I decided to check on you. That was absolutely it." Iruka's rage seemed to crumple under Kakashi's insistent looks, but the jounin preferred to stay alert. The brunette's fingers were still twitching uncomfortably in his – and Kakashi had heard more than enough stories on how the younger man's temper flared and dropped in an absolutely erratic way. Worried. Kakashi-sensei was worrying about his, Iruka's, condition? The chuunin sensei silently let his mouth fall open while staring at the other man in what felt like embarassment. His cheeks had heatened up to the well known state of redness, and Iruka felt like his hand must be burning on the other man's irritatingly cold skin. He couldn't keep himself from gaping at Kakashi's perfectly smooth expression while wondering how much the mask might be concealing at this very moment. Only slowly did Iruka realize that his hand was still being held tightly by the other man's chilly fingers, but when he did, he jerked back in an instant. Pressing the now prickling hand in one of his dressing gown's pockets, he bit back his quandary. Worried. Why would the infamous copy ninja be worried about a common teacher's state? Iruka's mind was spinning. Bloody traces in the forest. Mizuki was found, long since dead, apparently killed by some ferocious beast that was now striking horror into people's hearts. And here he was, realizing that one of the village's most famous jounin was spying on him. Did they suspect him, after all? Slowly, the brunette's mouth closed, his jaw locked tensely. It took Iruka some minutes to choke back his sudden anger to prevent himself from yelling at the other. „Worried, you say", he then began, his eyes narrow and flaring with desperate fury, „But you wouldn't be worried about the villagers, by any chance? Worried about me running wild? Worried about the formidable monster striking again?" It was only then that the brunette noticed that Kakashi's fingers were shaking. Nevertheless Iruka's rage kept growing more intense the longer the other man did nothing but staring back at him. Kakashi's body was tense. His mind was desperately trying to wrap around what Iruka had said. After all, it failed. The brunette's words were burning in the silver-haired jounin's head, and he almost felt the other's pain that was closely knitted into his questions. Iruka, the violent beast that kept terrifying men and women in the village? Kakashi had always thought that life had shown him enough of its facets not to leave him helpless anymore. He had considered himself immune to shock and horror. Anyhow, now he found himself entirely surprised by a certain chuunin teacher's words. His right eye carefully scanned Iruka's face for dimples, humorous creases, anything that could have indicated a hidden joke. There was no sign of humor in the man's appearance. Kakashi's throat was starting to hurt the longer he was standing close to the brunette. The urge to take his leave grew almost unbearable. One short look on Iruka's face, though, and the jounin drew a painful breath. He was going nowhere. Hazel eyes were staring at him, their usually light brown iris now shaded by anxiety. Desperate wrath kept mingling with endless fatigue, and Iruka's arms were wrapping tightly around the man's slightly shivering body as he finally started backing off towards his apartment's door. „Good night, Kakashi-sensei", the brunette said, his voice barely more than a whisper. Kakashi paused for only a second before he took a few hasty steps towards the other, both gloved hands reaching out for the trembling body. 'Don't go. I didn't mean it this way.' The jounin's hands only touched Iruka's arms for a moment, then the brunette pulled away. His eyes were dark with accusation. Kakashi quickly raised his hands, ready to apologize for the misunderstanding, but it was too late. Violently, the door was slammed shut right in front of Kakashi's face. What was left with him was the distinctive odor of lemon and bergamot, mixing with the bitter taste of failure. Kapitel 3: Wounds ----------------- „Thank you, Iruka. I don't want to imagine what this job would be like if there was no you.“ Sandaime's gentle smile made the adressed man's face freeze. His lips formed a happy grin while his eyes stayed untouched. People were always grateful, friendly and calm when it came to how the chuunin was a great help to them. They looked at him in an appreciative way, as he was always politely smiling, in a very settled mood, and glad to be needed here and there. Reality behind the mask was a lot different, but people, as superficial as mankind is, only saw what was obvious. With a short, yet fitting gesture, Iruka waved Goodbye towards Sandaime before he turned and silently walked his way out the door. Absentmindedly, the chuunin stepped into an all-too-brightly lit plaza, carefully retying the long tresses of brown hair that had slipped to his face and now blocked his sight. Sunrays drew fragile patterns all over his body, and Iruka's mood was about to lift a bit. He didn't quite understand what had happened until he hardly hit the ground, his arms crashing into a mixture of rough sand and tiny stones that easily pierced his skin and got stuck within his soft flesh. „Mah, you seem a bit unintelligent today, Iruka-sensei.“ The low mumble reaching the chuunin's ear had him wincing in discomfort – it clearly belonged to the person Iruka had not wanted to meet today. Arrogant, proud of himself, and with all the right to be all of that. Why him, all over again? „Kakashi-sensei“, Iruka murmured, slowly pushing himself up and shooting the other man a sharp look before he set his typical smile up. „I'm sorry“, he laughed, brushing the sand off his arms. Amazing. Getting all those stones out of his skin would be a real joy to him. Innerly Iruka snorted to himself, nevertheless keeping his polite smile up on the outside. He slowly got to his feet and offered one hand to the silver-haired jounin who was still stretching his probably aching arms. Iruka was more than sure that a man like the infamous copy-ninja would never take a hand from a person like him, but again, he got surprised. „Never mind it, your arms look a lot worse than I feel. Do you need help with treating that?“, the man asked seriously while reaching out for the chuunin's hand. Surprisingly gently, he squeezed his fingers, and Iruka withstood the urge to drag himself away from the touch, while Kakashi seemed to be carefully avoiding the bleeding areas of the brunette's palm. The jounin easily got back to his feet. Iruka had frozen within motion, his shocked gaze met the other's calm and he backed away, this time shaking off the other's hand. „I don't think I need your help, Kakashi-sensei. You are a busy man, aren't you?“, he replied, harshly shaking his head until several strands of brown hair started swinging in front of his eyes. In fact, Iruka didn't want the man to be of any service to him. He was the one who had suspected Iruka to have killed his own best friend whose death he was still grieving over. Maybe he hadn't been the one to initiate the observation – most likely it had been Sandaime's instruction -, but still, he was the one Iruka's anger was now directed at, and the mere imagination of letting that man into his appartment made him shiver in silently expanding fury. One single silent movement and a hand that suddenly gripped Iruka's shoulder with chilly fingers made the chuunin let out a startled cry. His eyes widened in surprise as he noticed that the slender features of the silver-haired jounin, just having vanished right in front of his eyes, had popped up behind him and now executed a noteworty amount of pressure onto his back. Hand still lying on the brunette's shoulder, Kakashi was apparently trying to push Iruka out of the daily crowd's chatter and into an abandoned side road. The chuunin's lips parted in helpless protest as he was pressed against a wall made of rough concrete, the jounin's second hand now covering his mouth. „Shhh“, came a surprisingly soft whisper while Kakashi's head snapped around as if there were enemies hidden in every corner of the quiet alley they had been entering just seconds before. Iruka was staring at the man in tacit surprise, lips twitching here and there but remaining silent as the silver-haired man shot him a warning gaze. There was a slight edge of fear in the atmosphere filling the alley, yet something familiar. Numerous shivers ran down Iruka's spine as he was trying to wrap his mind around what was the exciting detail he had yet been missing. Kakashi rather seemed like a paranoid squirrel, somewhat overreacting in a way that made Iruka's eyes scan his covered face carefully. Why would someone pull him into an abandoned alleyway, obviously trying to get rid of any possible observers, while there was that faint taste of danger in the air? The low dropping of what must be blood caught the chuunin's attention and let him turn his left arm far enough to see the area where several stones had perforated his skin, some of them still peering through the obvious wounds covering the tanned arm. Iruka's gaze locked on the warm red fluid running down his wrist, creeping through his also bleeding palm and finally trickling down his fingers to fall into a small pool of blood that had already assembled on the dusty ground. A sudden hiss drew his attention back to the jounin that had abruptly squatted next to the brunette's thighs. Kakashi's visible eye was intently locked on the reddish pool while his whole mask seemed to be twitching in what looked like attraction. Iruka was irritated. His mind was spinning in confusion as the silver-haired man's fingers slowly grasped his blood covered wrist and pulled it further down. Attraction. There it was again. Hadn't Kakashi declared how appealing he found the chuunin to be, in the night on Kurenai's balcony? And again, the jounin's nose seemed to be twitching hectically. This time, though, Iruka was sure to recognize a flash of obvious fascination in the other's visible blue eye. It took the copy-nin several minutes to get a hold of himself. Whatever it might have been that had kept him staring at Iruka's bleeding arm was now gone, and the jounin's intent gaze appeared apologetic. Iruka was stunned. His wrist was still caught in Kakashi's firm grip, and the chuunin's discomfort had only increased with the last minutes' incidents. He would have preferred to get going; dinner was yet to be prepared and the chuunin's stomach had started aching some minutes ago. Only an instant later though, Iruka was absolutely grateful for what seemed like a coincidence to him – if his stomach had gotten what it was longing for, it would have been emptied by now. A low murmur let the mask quiver in smooth waves of dark cloth, and Iruka's throat felt dry as his body started disappearing in a whirl of smoke. „I'll be taking care of that arm of yours now. Be my guest for tonight.“ And they dissolved into nothing. Iruka's eyes had to get accustomed to the new conditions they were offered. Dim light slipped through tensely shut curtains, fell on a reddish brown wooden floor and lit the paradoxical situation the chuunin had been thrown into all of a sudden. First, only his toetips had met the ground, while he had been carefully adjusting his body's position to the new circumstances. Then, slightly delayed due to a betrayal of his own senses, Iruka had noticed that the curtains in front of the windows were nothing less than thickly grewn branches, their twigs reaching out far enough to enter the living room he had just landed in. Dark green shoots of ivy were climbing up the walls close to the window, partially covering the frame and tightly coiling around the strong branches of the acacias. The chuunin's eyes widened as he processed to take in all the impressions he could get – several pieces of furniture, all of them of the same dark wood the floor was built of, covered in pillows and some comfortable looking blankets. These all lay spread on the couch and wing chair, and their covering seemed to be of a soft chocolate brown that made Iruka grow an urge to smell on every single one of them. His mind was still spinning, trying to understand how he had gotten here, as chilly fingers wrapped tightly around his right wrist and pulled him aside towards a yet closed door. „It's about time we clean you up, Iruka-sensei. Your arm looks awful, and it sure hurts a lot, doesn't it?“, a quiet murmur danced through the seemingly heavy air that was dulling Iruka's senses. His answer was a short nod while his brain still seemed to be out of service. Kakashi-sensei. The alleyway. How had they come here? There had been smoke, and then nothing. Smoke. Wait. Had Kakashi teleported them both? Iruka's mouth just opened to ask where they were as his gaze fell on a pair of lazily folded pants which was just now accompanied by a thick, dark green vest. A gloved hand pushed both aside, and Iruka's look shot skywards just to meet a one-eyed worried glance. Deep blue met liquid gold, and the chuunin's breath seemed to break off for a second. There was a subliminal contact between the two of them, their distance seemed to be breaking apart and Kakashi's thumb brushed lightly across Iruka's hurting hand. Then the moment was gone, and Iruka tried to remember how to suck air into his lungs as his chest started aching. Confusedly, he followed the broad back that was now only covered in the same dark cloth Kakashi's mask must be made of. This must be Kakashi's home. But why...? The incident from before must be gnawing at the jounin's conscience to make him drag a teacher into his very own living room, and it only now appeared to Iruka that mere remorse might be the reason for all of this. As few information as there was about the infamous copy-ninja's private life, as fascinating was it to be walking along his hall now, carefully avoiding a wooden dresser and following the man towards his bathroom. There was still a small part of Iruka's consciousness that kept objecting. Something below the surface was simmering, and the chuunin's anger wasn't long enough gone to be forgotten. His attention, however, lay on the man's back in front of him and his algid fingers that were still tightly holding the chuunin's wrist, pulling him into the bathroom. It was just when the light was switched on that Iruka noticed how very different Kakashi's bathroom looked in comparison to his rather darkly arranged living room. White tiles covered both walls and floor, light brown bathmats lay spread in front of a shower tray, and the windows in this room were free of any obstacles. Beaming sunlight flashed into the room, mingled with the artificial light and brightly lit the room. Kakashi's skin, indeed, looked paler than ever, and it was only now that Iruka started wondering if the man had ever been tanned. Probably not. While Iruka's mind was still wrapping around pointless considerations, the jounin himself had let go of the brunette's hand to pick several first-aid supplies out of a mirrored bathroom cabinet. Cautiously, one after the other was adjusted on a white towel before the silver-haired man slowly turned around and pushed Iruka down onto the bathrub's frame. For a short moment, Iruka wasn't able to help eyeing the man intently. Clearly defined contours of muscle strands below the dark cloth that tightened over Kakashi's chest had the chuunin staring in silent admiration. He had never been a sucker for men's bodies, not at all – this, however, was the image of a perfectly built and exercised body. A low chuckle drew his attention off the dark cloth on the other's chest and up to the halfly hidden face that was, as he only now noticed, not anymore covered with a headband. The left eye was still closely shut, but Iruka was now able to have a look at the distinctive scar that crossed the left side of Kakashi's face and still remember of what had happened many years ago. Iruka's curious gaze met the silver-haired jounin's look, and the chuunin sat back in surprise. „You seem kind of impressed, Iruka-sensei“, Kakashi commented with a smirk, and Iruka felt a familiar heat rising up to his cheeks. „Don't teachers have to be well trained, too?“ He chuunin's head shook while his lips formed an excuse that was only held back from a chilly index finger that was lightly pressed against his chin. „Shhh, just teasing you. But honestly, your body looks just fine, Iruka-sensei.“ Iruka's face felt like it was about to burst into flames. The chuunin cringed slightly as the cool fingers started brushing across his lips and along his jawbone. Was the jounin trying to hit on him again? There was a short moment of silence between the two of them before Kakashi carefully grabbed Iruka's wrist and started eyeing the areas that were covered in blood and dirt. His voice was serious as he started talking again. „I'm going to clean this, Iruka-sensei. But it's going to hurt, so I hope you forgive me for causing you pain.“ A wary look from the blue eye. Iruka stayed still. His head nodded in silent agreement. It took nearly half an hour for the jounin to treat Iruka's arm properly. Neither of them felt the need to talk, and the brunette had closed his eyes after some minutes to prevent himself from giving the other man too sore a look. Instead, he kept his face calm and blank while his right hand kept hold of his vest. The pain was bearable but more than uncomfortable, and Iruka shifted his weight here and there to keep himself from letting out a pained outcry. Kakashi, meanwhile, was giving his very best not to make things worse than they were anyway. His movements were clear and skilled, and it was obvious that he was trying to get the act over with quickly. He shot cautious looks up to the brunette's face whenever he could manage to, and Iruka's jaw was locked in place until he felt bandages getting wrapped around his forearm and hand. It was only then that the chuunin slowly released a pent up breath. His eyes opened up to see Kakashi intently looking him over. A relieved sigh escaped Iruka's lips as he met the silver-haired's look. „Thank you“, he quietly said and watched the jounin's back as Kakashi bent down to put forceps, gauze, bandages and the now reddish discolored bowl of water away. Kakashi nodded as he left the room just to re-enter it only seconds later. One of his hands held a small ice pack which he gently placed on Iruka's palm. Iruka's lips twitched lightly skywards until he honestly smiled at the other man. As angry as he had been before, as grateful was he now for the quick help and the treatment Kakashi had provided for him. It took the chuunin by surprise as Kakashi suddenly lifted his chin with one of his now bare hands. The halfly covered face slowly approached Iruka's tanned features, and he surprisedly held his breath. Even when Kakashi froze in place, cautiously eyeing the chuunin, Iruka didn't dare to move. A moment of silence fell between the two of them until the jounin, all of a sudden, left the room and got back in an instant, his vest neatly wrapped around his perfect silhouette and the shinobi headband in place again. His expression was unfathomable. Quickly, one of the still bare hands grasped Iruka's sleeve and dragged him to his feet. The chuunin stumbled for a second but got caught by one of Kakashi's arms. In the next instant, they seemed to dissolve into nothing again. Their silhouettes disappeared out of the bathroom and came back into sight in the same abandoned alleyway where they had vanished before. Iruka's look must be more than confused. He still felt dizzy from the past treatment, and the jounin's behaviour didn't make any sense to him. It took the brunette some minutes to calm down again, his head still spinning from the teleportation jutsu. As he finally turned around to ask Kakashi about the point in all his contradictory behaviour, Iruka found himself to be alone. Only a stray cat was roaming along the grey buildings' facades. Kapitel 4: An assault --------------------- Another week passed until Iruka met Kakashi again, and when he finally did, the long expected conversation didn’t satisfy the chuunin at all. Kakashi’s answers were brief, his nose twitched hectically, and Iruka wasn’t able to get rid of the feeling that the man wanted to be anywhere but where he currently was. Whenever he was forced to reply to something Iruka shot at him, his comments were short and meaningless, and his strained mimic belied his ever present crinkling eye. Iruka would have loved to simply ask the man out, leave him without a chance to escape his burning curiosity as to who had sent the jounin after him that day one week ago, and why exactly Sandaime Hokage suspected him, HIM, of all people, to be the one to blame for his own friend’s sudden death. It so happened, though, that Konoha’s most popular jounin was sent out on a mission to Mist only a few days after their encounter, and Iruka was left without a chance to get the answers he so badly longed for. Iruka’s mind kept spinning and spinning, his thoughts circled from the happenings on that unfortunate day past Kakashi’s indirect accusations to his paradox behavior and obvious attraction that Iruka could still neither fully understand nor return. Back and forth did his tracks of thought whirl, and his head started aching at one or another time as an everyday routine. Luckily, and as a vivid distraction from both Kakashi’s whereabouts and intentions, young Akimichi Chouji started attending to school only a few days after the horrifying incidents he had been involved in. His memory was very hazy, and after all he had been blabbering when an upset Kotetsu had lead him home, it was very clear that he had no idea who the attacker had been. All he had seen, after all, was a blurry shadow wrapped in dark cloth, before he had hastily retreated behind the solid rock Iruka remembered from the clearing. As unfortunate as it was, seeing how the only witness couldn’t remember a thing, as happy was Iruka to notice that the boy recovered at a quick rate. The pictures of what he had seen in the forest that day were still haunting the chuunin in his every nightmare, and not a night went by without him being drenched in sweat and shivering from the terrifying sight of things that had chased him down within his imagination. Chouji’s condition, though, changed to the better every day, and Iruka watched the boy with silent envy. He was laughing and fooling about with his classmates, obviously carefree, while Iruka spent more and more time on his own. He couldn’t stand the cheery atmosphere all around the playgrounds, couldn’t understand how everyone seemed to have forgotten about the fearsome murder right after it had happened. There was not a person who hadn’t offered their condolences to him, not a child that had not yet laid some flowers down on the newly accumulated hill of dark brown humus in the southern part of Konohagakure’s graveyard. Yet, nobody seemed to care anymore, now that the funeral lay past, while Iruka’s heart started pounding heavily against his ribcage whenever he thought about how badly he missed his former friend. Things had changed from one day to the other, and everyone seemed to move on, while a certain chuunin wasn’t able to let things go just yet. It was a sunny Wednesday when Iruka received message from the Sandaime to come and support the desk chuunin in the missions room on an irregular shift this evening. Iruka was tired, he had barely slept at all during the past two nights after one of his students had kindly reminded him of how Mizuki’s birthday was about to come up. A thick lump kept blocking the chuunin’s throat ever since, and he had fled his friends’ company twice during the past days to avoid a similar topic. However, he didn’t complain about the additional work. It would have been another lonely night with little sleep anyway. Wearily, Iruka sat his shift out but fled the room as soon as possible. A shy grin spread over his lips as he waved his peers goodbye, and he could hear them whisper behind his back as the brown tuft of hair vanished around the corner. “Have you seen his eyes? I bet he hasn’t slept in days.”, came a familiar mumble from across the room, and Iruka flinched. Genma. Of course. He wouldn’t have expected the man to understand his grief; Genma hadn’t ever felt the urge to associate with Mizuki. The next one to speak out left Iruka breathless, though, and he paused halfway down the stairs. “I bet he hasn’t eaten more than once a day, either. It’s a shame, really. He should count himself lucky and seize the chance to live his life without that sucker. Mizuki never did him any good.” A low sob escaped Iruka’s lips as he started running. No matter where to and no matter how long he would be running for- all that kept Iruka on his feet now was the desperate need for air, and a little silence. He needed to get out- now. His toes got caught on one of the stairs and he stumbled floorwards, caught himself in the last moment and got back to his feet just to dash out the door and towards the nearby gate. Several tresses of dark brown hair slipped from his high ponytail and started tickling the back of his neck, but Iruka couldn’t have cared less. He kept running, past a rather dumbfounded looking Izumo who stared after him when Iruka passed the gate of Konoha, down the gravel walk that lay outside the village and into the forest. The chuunin didn’t stop running until a long and thorny tendril caught his ankle; he tore forth but didn’t stand a chance against the shackle-like restraint. Exhausted, Iruka tumbled to the ground, his head crashing hardly against a hidden rock. For a second, his view seemed to contort, until the tips of an overgrown meadow popped into his sight. Warm fingers touched a throbbing temple, and when Iruka lowered his hand for a quick examination, sticky red covered two of his fingers. Iruka pursed his lips- his head was still spinning, and he was pretty sure that this time, it was not his mind’s fault. Aside from the whirring noise that kept warping his hearing and that was clearly originating from the inside of his head, Iruka still felt the thorns of whatever kind of tendril had snaked around his left calf pierce the delicate skin of his ankle and tibia, and the chuunin let out a low groan. How much bad luck could one person experience in one day? The answer sat crouched down on the limb of a nearby tree, warily watching Iruka with gleaming eyes, claws piercing the thick bark. A low hiss escaped slightly opened lips while a pale tongue swiftly flicked in and out. Iruka didn’t sense what was about to come for him, but he noticed it as soon as it entered the clearing, a grumble emanating from deep within its throat. Iruka’s head shot skywards, his eyes darted towards the unexpected chakra presence, and his breath caught for a second before he started an attempt of pushing himself up on his hands. Even if he had been any faster, though, he wouldn’t have been prepared for the impact that forced him down on his back in the next instant. The tendril that was still wrapped neatly around one of his legs restrained his movement so he wasn’t even able to kick at the weight that now kept him down, and the questions that suddenly popped into his head were suffocated by cold fingers that swiftly snaked around his throat and started tightening momentarily. Iruka started choking, his body reared up against the grueling weight that kept swatting his ribcage, and for a second he believed in his own chances. Only a moment later, however, a sudden growl drew his attention up to his attacker’s face, and the chuunin’s eyes widened considerably. He froze in place. For a moment, he could not believe his eyes, but the face bore a striking resemblance to the person that automatically popped into Iruka’s mind at all times these days. The low snarl that kept emerging from his attacker’s chest sent shivers down the chuunin’s spine, but he wasn’t able to avert the other’s gaze. The sharingan eye kept spinning at an unbelievable speed, while the other eye, dark with thirst, was nearly unremarkable in the otherwise terrifying features. Where once used to be dark cloth to hide three quarters of that stunning face lay now a twitching nose, lifted high in what seemed like utter discontent, and two slightly parted lips that were graced with a long tongue every once in a while. Had Iruka planned on objecting and putting up a fight, now all that seemed left to do for him was stare at the assaulter. Several questions kept dashing back and forth within his head but were never vocalized due to the tightening grip of adamant fingers around the chuunin’s neck. For a moment, the merciless constriction around Iruka’s throat seemed to fade, but when he started struggling to get into a sitting position, the attacker’s composure snapped. With a heavy thud, Iruka got jerked back down, his head smacking hardly into the rough ground. A low outcry escaped the chuunin’s lips as a sudden pain pierced his consciousness and made him rear up with all his might once again. Iruka started shaking violently. A gouging pain started spreading throughout his neck and shoulder; his fingers clenched the vest pressed up against his chest tightly. Helplessly, the chuunin kept hold of the fabric within his grasp, lips halfly parted in a silent moan, while strong teeth locked within his flesh, drawing his blood out. The chuunin flinched, panting for air, as a satisfied groan emanated next to his ear, and he rolled his eyes with a quiet whine when a raspy tongue started flicking over his bruised skin. For a moment he considered talking to the predator that was apparently just feeding off him, but he let the thought go when the sucking against his torn flesh increased. Desperately, Iruka kneaded the cloth between his fingers, searching for the right way to escape this situation alive and failing badly. A few more minutes flew past while the attacker’s thirst seemed yet to be satisfied, and Iruka’s consciousness started fading. He still wasn’t able to move anything but his fingers, and his body started running low on oxygen. Slowly, the chuunin’s view got hazy and the pain started dulling into nothingness. He didn’t know how and he didn’t know why, but it seemed like his life was going to end here. And come to think of it, Iruka reasoned with his last strength, this was a way to be with his parents once more. Mizuki would be there, along with all the others he had lost… So why not let go for once? And with a faint smile on his paling lips, Iruka sunk into darkness. Kapitel 5: Questions -------------------- Iruka woke to a softly humming voice, his body curled up tightly within his very own blanket. For a moment he lay there, blinking, refraining from moving at all. He was warm, comfortable, enjoying the peaceful quiet he so rarely encountered. Yet his chest was heaving with every breath he took, and the longer Iruka was conscious, the more vital grew his memories of what had happened… well, how long had it been? A day ago? Maybe two? For a moment the chuunin even doubted his own vitality. Had he died, after all, and was now being cared for in heaven? A sudden pain along the right side of his neck drew the man’s attention back into the present. Carefully, he had craned his head to take sight of whatever situation currently encompassed him, and was now interrupted by the sharp pull of freshly sewn stitches. Iruka heaved a sigh as his fingers slowly traced along his accurately bandaged jugular. The events of the past night still seemed a little blurry to him, but one thing was for sure: There had been something attacking him- or rather someone. Someone he knew and couldn’t believe was involved into all of this. However confusing the circumstances, the chuunin’s considerations were interrupted all of a sudden. Iruka’s breath caught as a low hiss emanated from a silhouette that had just entered the room a few feet ahead of him. One single grey eye met two hazel-colored ones with a cautious stare as Hatake Kakashi started to pace along Iruka’s bedside slowly, his lean frame shuddering ever so slightly. His arms were crossed in what seemed like painful restraint while the mask, now covering the lower half of the man’s face again, quivered every now and then like the man was just experiencing utterly stressful minutes. Iruka gaped at the jounin with silent astonishment. So it really had been him. Fireworks of colorful pictures flew past his inner eye, leaving traces of what might have happened in all the incidents nobody had been able to explain just yet. Bare fangs ripped through Mizuki’s throat, tore at his neck until it snapped. One rapidly spinning red eye flashed through thickly grown bushes, observing a chuunin that was grieving for his former best friend. Innocent words and appealing gestures formed a mixture of attraction and betrayal, and Iruka’s eyes snapped widely open as he finally found the piece that had yet been missing. The puzzle was solved. There had never been a monster, never been an animal nor a formidable unknown opponent. It could have been so obvious; it could have been so easy- if the ferocious beast had been any other than the infamous Hatake Kakashi. It took Iruka a moment to regain his calm; being gazed at like he were tonight’s dinner made him feel both endangered and thrilled at the same time. His thoughts kept circling around what his mind still had not really processed, while his heart was hammering against his ribcage like it was going to pop out at every moment. “So it was you”, Iruka finally managed to choke out, his face a grim façade of all the horror he had been struck by just seconds ago. “Of all people who could have committed such crimes, it was you. You, who kept playing the innocent and was roaming around my house like a stray cat, you, who was trying to give me the feeling of being appreciated for what I am. All you wanted was my trust. Isn’t that true?” The chuunin’s throat was burning with both anger and pain; anger towards his own stupidity for not doubting the man’s intentions any more seriously before; pain rising from the torn flesh that no other but the man in front of him had brought about. A low cough emanated from Iruka’s throat, but the heavily metallic taste didn’t even make him flinch. Brown eyes bore into the visible grey one; and Iruka could see the other man struggle for his self-control. The chuunin pushed himself up onto his arms with an effort. He was not ready to let the other go without receiving so much as an answer as to why his friend had had to die. “Blood. You drink it”, he continued. “Why? How can you be the monster that has been haunting Konoha for so long without being detected sooner or later? You’re Sharingan no Kakashi, you can fool one or the other fellow shinobi, but how have you been able to betray your Hokage? Have all your actions been a mere act of distraction to make people miss your real self? It’s logic, isn’t it? Now that I think about it, why has nobody ever wondered how you were on missions every single time the beast attacked? How come nobody has ever seen your face? You couldn’t show it, is that it? You had to hide yourself so nobody would find out what you really are?” Iruka had talked himself into a rage. His chest was heaving under the weight of the blankets that were still wrapped neatly around his lower body and his legs, and the appearance of blood that kept mingling with his saliva seemed to increase in frequency. Yet, the chuunin couldn’t have cared less. He was so close to the solution of all the mysteries that had made his life a mess ever since Hatake Kakashi had encountered him on the balcony that night; he was not going to give up just now. However, there was something that was bothering Iruka even further; something that made his anger flourish and his calm vanish into thin air. “How can you even STAND there and watch me with that cold eye of yours, not saying a word!? You killed my best friend! How dare you still staying at my home!” the chuunin spat out as another coughing fit started shaking his frame. Iruka was panting for air, carefully biting back on the sound of pain that was rising within his throat. He was breathing deeply to overcome the sudden weariness as a cold hand was pressed flatly against his chest and pushed him back against his pillow in a surprisingly gentle manner. One attempt to object was all Iruka managed to bring up before a second hand covered his lips with twitching fingers and made him fall silent. “That’s enough, Sensei”, a quiet murmur reasoned while the blanket was drawn back over the now shivering frame with expert movements. Iruka’s lips parted for another raging fit, but once again, the fingers were way faster. “Please, rest now. You lost a lot of blood and I would regret losing you now that I managed to let you live.” For the blink of an eye, Iruka considered objecting once again, but found himself within the tight embrace of warm blankets before he was even done thinking. His lips twitched with discontent but kept still as chilly fingers slid into his shirt’s collar and moved with utter caution to readjust the bandages he had just strained a little too much. A low hiss slipped through Iruka’s teeth to ward off any further contact; and the fingers retreated. That last statement made it seem like the attacker had decided not to kill him against his own expectations, but Iruka didn’t feel like hearing him out just now. His throat was burning like fire while the blood loss was still wearing him out. One last intent look into his eyes, then Kakashi slowly backed out of the room and into the corridor. Iruka listened to his softening steps as the man strode away. It was only when he heard a door lock that he finally relaxed. He wanted answers to all the questions he had asked, explanations for all the incidents of the past weeks, but for now, he couldn’t ward off his weariness any more. Just as Iruka’s eyelids started growing heavy, he gave into his exhaustion and fell asleep once more. Hosted by Animexx e.V. (http://www.animexx.de)