Questionable Loyalty

CHAPTER 11





It was late afternoon when Kakashi came back to the Academy to pick up Iruka. The Chuunin lifted a surprised eye-brow at the sight of him – in civilian clothing, wearing a simple white shirt and dark pants, everything held together by a grey sash. His Sharingan eye was hidden under a simple eye-patch.



“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in civilian clothes, Kakashi-san.” Iruka blurted out before his might caught up with his mouth. Kakashi only smiled under his mask and spread his hands placatingly:



“I did not wish to be seen drinking while I am in uniform – it’s bad for my reputation.”



Iruka blinked and looked down at his own Chuunin uniform, but Kakashi waved his hand.



“Don’t worry. That matters only if you’re Jounin.” The ‘We’re held up to higher standards’ was left unsaid but it hung between them. Iruka scowled and kept scowling until he realized where Kakashi was headed to and then his mood improved significantly. The older man was leading him to a bar that was frequented by civilians. For a while, Iruka had been worrying that Kakashi would bring him to one of the places where the Jounin gathered, and while Konoha avoided fostering rivalry among its subjects, there were unwritten rules – one of them being that those of lower rank should know their place. The jounin – and ANBU – they were the elite, the predators at the very top of the food chain, and they did not appreciate outsiders trying to encroach on their territory. Of course, he had assumed that Kakashi, with his penchant of ignoring rules, wouldn’t care, but that clearly was not the case. Iruka felt touched by the consideration.



The place was small but clean – neither too expensive but also definitely not sleazy. The tables were partitioned from each other by paper screens with cranes in flight drown on them. They were led in one such partition and both gracefully slid to their knees. Kakashi ordered for them and when the sake was brought, he reached and poured it in Iruka’s wide, shallow cup. After he poured to himself as well, the jounin reached and pulled his mask down.



Iruka couldn’t help but stare for a few long, tense moments – he glimpsed that face in the shadows of the alley weeks ago, and even back then he had realized that Kakashi was a handsome, beautiful even, man. His skin was naturally pale and creamy, almost as lily white as that Uchiha boy’s had been. The area around one slanted, lazy grey eye was only a tiny bit more tan than the rest that had been hidden under the mask. His nose, despite having been broken several times during the course of his career, was still quite straight, and his lips looked soft, even if they were a little thin. He was cleanly shaven, not a shadow of stubble on his cheeks – Iruka assumed that it’d be quite unpleasant if the tiny sharp hairs caught on the material of the mask.



The soft lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile and Kakashi asked:



“So, what’s the verdict, Sensei?”



“Huh?” Iruka said oh-so-eloquently, and then immediately wished he could kick himself.



Kakashi pointed to his face and said slowly, as if speaking to a small child:



“The verdict.”



Iruka had to clear his throat before he spoke:



“I have seen your face before, Kakashi-san.”



Surprisingly, the pale cheeks suddenly bloomed in a furious blush and Kakashi looked down.



‘Great, Iruka, keep doing this and your foot will be so far down your throat that it’d be coming out of your ass.’ the Chuunin thought.



“I apologise, Kakashi-san. I didn’t mean to make your feel uncomfortable.”



Kakashi composed himself and shrugged.



“It was my fault for lacking the tiniest amount of common sense and doing… what I did, in public.”



He reached for his cup and spoke, voice light-hearted:



“So, now, what shall we drink about?”



Iruka smiled to him gently:



“To secrets.”



At those words Iruka thought that he saw a shadow passing over Kakashi’s expression for a fraction of a second. A moment later, the Jounin was smiling mirthfully again:



“To secrets, indeed.”



Kakashi proved to be quite nice to talk to when he wasn’t acting haughtily or arrogantly, or simply being anti-social. They discussed a wide range of topics – from the village politics, to Iruka’s students to Naruto – the last being perhaps their longest conversation. Iruka was pleasantly surprised that the jounin cared so much for his former student and readily told him about the letters the young man had been sending him while on his long training course with Jiraiya-sama. They were little, insignificant things really – daily problems and pains and joys that Naruto had shared with him – and which in turn he told Kakashi. Indeed, the Jounin was listening with avid, unfeigned interest. What Iruka had witnessed in the alley was never mentioned, both dancing around the subject and pretending it never happened.



The sake bottles kept coming, and the older man kept pouring them both more and more cups. When they were finally done it was dark outside, night having fallen hours ago, most of the clients of the establishment long gone. With slightly shaky hand the Jounin paid for their drink and got up, swaying a little on his feet. Getting up proved to be much more difficult for Iruka, who felt dizzy and slightly nauseated. When Kakashi grabbed his hand and pulled him up with surprising strength the world spun around him and Iruka groaned out loud.



The trip back to Kakashi’s apartment was a blur – they walked, leaning against each other, snickering and talking, swaying from side to side. Had Iruka been able to care, he would’ve been mortified at the sight they must’ve presented. Thankfully, they reached Kakashi’s apartment without any big catastrophe happening – like, for example, meeting any of their colleagues. If there were any patrolling ANBU who saw them, they would most likely keep it to themselves – the all-seeing eye that watched over Konoha knew how to be discrete, unless the village’s safety was threatened.



Somehow, Kakashi managed to unlock his front door and drag Iruka inside. With a little more effort, he led him to his bed and lifted him on it, then pulled his sandals off and loosened his shirt. Just as he was about to go a tanned hand grabbed Kakashi’s sleeve and pulled him back.



“You kno’…” the Chuunin’s voice sleepily slurred “The image of you taking it up the ass is probably the most arousing thing I’ve sheen…” and then he was out cold.



Not nearly as drunk as he pretended to be, Kakashi froze at those words and stared at the sleeping young man in his bed. He carefully disentangled his hand from the Chuunin’s grip and took a step back, then left the room and closed the door carefully.



After visiting the toilet and taking a short shower, he lied on his sofa and thought about what the young man had said. So, he found him arousing?



Any ninja, from the brats who learned the art of their trade in the Academy on the most rudimentary level possible, up to the Hokage who was the strongest and most cunning operative the village had, all of them were trained to do one and the same thing – search for weaks spot in their target’s defenses – be they physical or psychological – and aim their strike for those weak spots. Kakashi could drive Gamabunta through the crack that the Chuunin had presented him with. Question was: Did he want to? And if he did, would Pein approve?



In the morning, Iruka woke up with the kind of headache that he couldn’t wish even on Orochimaru. He was nauseous, and his mouth tasted like something had crawled up in it and died there, then rotted away for several weeks. He would’ve been surprised if he looked at his teeth in a mirror and didn’t find mould on them. When he opened his eyes he realized that the curtains on the window were blessedly pulled down.



He lied there for a while, waiting for the throbbing in his temples to subside just a little, then somehow managed to crawl out of the bed he was in. The Chuunin moved like a zombie until he tried to walk through a wall which wasn’t supposed to be there. That clued him in that he wasn’t in his apartment. Where was he? A few moments later, he recalled Kakashi’s offer from yesterday, and then the Jounin pouring them cup after cup. Afterwards his mind drew a blank. Iruka looked down and for the first time he noticed that he still wore his clothes, even if his shoes were missing and his shirt was untucked from his pants. So nothing happened… Had he said anything…?



“I see you’re awake.” Kakashi’s annoyingly chipper and sober voice speared through Iruka’s scull and he winced. Slowly, he turned around.



“I slept here?” he asked, making an effort to enunciate the words correctly. Kakashi, who was standing at the door frame, nodded.



“Yes, and I spent the night on the couch in my living-room. Don’t worry, Sensei, I was a perfect gentleman.”



There it was again, that mirthful, teasing smile. Had Iruka said anything last night? Despite his worries, he had a more pressing matter on his mind:



“I need to throw up.” He stated. The smile on the Jounin’s face disappeared and he quickly led him out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. Iruka sagged on his knees and gratefully hugged the toilet seat while he expelled the contents of his stomach inside. When he was done, feeling weak and shaky, he realized that there was a callused but gentle hand holding his messy hair up and away from his face and another that was pressing a cool towel on the back of his neck.



“I’ll leave you to wash now and I’ll make some coffee.” Kakashi said quietly.



About an hour and a half later Iruka left the Jounin’s apartment, feeling much better. Kakashi watched his slowly retreating form from the window and wondered how Pein would react when he told him of his plan on how to get close to the Chuunin.