The Trick Is Not Minding

A/N Bouncy Bunny, he still can't defend himself . . . but he can defend Iruka. Otherwise, you're right, it would have happened years ago. It's all about self-worth. Thanks for the reviews everyone. Enjoy!!

Chapter Fourteen

The next few days fell into a comfortable routine. The copy-nin fitted into Iruka’s apartment, and life, as if he’d always been there. And people had noticed. Well, they’d noticed something was different. No longer was the chuunin the last to leave the academy, lingering over his grading long into the night, instead he joined the other teachers, streaming out gratefully as soon as classes ended. He took fewer shifts at the mission desk, no longer volunteering when his coworkers came hunting for a replacement. And, most interesting of all, he had started wearing turtlenecks.

The chuunin smiled as he fielded another question about his change in attire, and fingered the lingering bruise on his neck through the material. If they only knew, they’d be so shocked, he thought, but I can’t tell them. At this he visibly deflated, once again despairing the terms of his relationship with Kakashi, even as he treasured it.

The copy-nin had been very clear, no one was to know about their relationship. At the same time he was shockingly possessive, and the teacher found himself hard pressed to keep coming up with excuses to avoid this or that social event. The sex was rough, but Iruka had to admit he loved it. The jounin never hurt him, apart from the occasional bite mark, but he was demanding and often left the chuunin bruised and very very sore.

No, the sex wasn’t the problem, or maybe it was, Iruka mused, but it was other things that were bothering him. There was something missing, an ease with each other that the teacher had often envied in couples. I barely know anything about him, he continued his internal dialogue, hell, I don’t even know what he looks like under the mask. He’s never even kissed me. At that thought the chuunin’s breath hitched, I don’t even know how he feels about me. He chewed his lip as he worried, wanting to reveal the source of his unease, if only to himself, so he could discard it and bask in the light of Kakashi’s love. That’s it in a nutshell, is it his love, or was I just there? He fretted, Would he be doing this with anyone who helped him? Do I matter to him at all? What will I do if he doesn’t love me? I don’t think I can stop loving him so . . . is this enough, am I happy enough, do I need more?

Iruka continued to hug his knees and chew his lip, looking about twelve years old in his nervous agitation, wishing his lover would hurry up and come home and chase away all his worries and insecurities.

Kakashi was worried. Oh, you wouldn’t know it to look at him, he had the same detached air, same lazy slouch, same monotone delivery . . . but he was worried none the less. He was, after all, an expert in hiding things. Even from yourself, his internal voice piped in. His years with Aoshi had guaranteed his mastery, he was a silent shadow, the perfect shinobi. Right now that same annoying mental voice was screaming at him. You hurt him . . . again, you’re losing control, getting rougher . . . admit it, you’re just like Aoshi, all you know how to do is hurt. I don’t understand, I saved him, fought for him, why am I doing this . . . how do I stop?

The copy-nin fought the urge to shove a kunai in his ear and shut that nagging voice in his head up for good. I’m not cut out for this emotional crap, he despaired, I don’t know what I feel, and I certainly don’t know how to express it even if I did understand. He shook his head in disgust. I give up, I can’t fix this. He walked on in silence, idly contemplating the leaves as they fell from the trees. But I’d like to, he finally admitted. So, he continued his circular train of thought back to the beginning, what do I do to fix this?

By the time he’d reached Iruka’s Kakashi still hadn’t come up with a solution. But, he decided, it isn’t going to change unless I make it change. Nodding firmly he pushed open the door and toed off his sandals. He moved to join Iruka on the couch. The chuunin was hugging his knees, eyes troubled. Here goes, the copy-nin thought, and he decided to just jump right in.

“Iruka, I’ve been thinking. This,” he waved his hand vaguely in the air, “thing we have . . . it isn’t right. I don’t want it anymore. I’m,” he hesitated for a moment, “I’m going home. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” The chuunin opened his mouth to protest, but it was too late. The moment he’d finished speaking the copy-nin had formed the hand signs and transported himself home.

The teacher slumped back down on the couch and buried his tear-streaked face in his hands. He kept trying, and failing, to figure out why Kakashi left him so suddenly. I guess I just wasn’t enough for him, he decided bitterly, naive, boring Iruka-sensei, brown hair, brown eyes, brown skin and dull as dirt. Of course I couldn’t keep him, he’s a genius after all, and it didn’t even take me long to figure out he could do better. As much as longed to pull the earth over his head and hide from the world, he knew better. His children would be raring to go tomorrow morning, and he’d better at least try to sleep if he was going to have any hope of surviving.

He wearily made his way into the bedroom and climbed into bed, immediately gravitating to the pillow the copy-nin had been using, clutching it tightly as he cried himself into an uneasy sleep.

Kakashi hated leaving the comfort of Iruka’s house, hated not being with the teacher . . . but this will make me face the problem, he admitted. Resigning himself to, at least, a temporary separation the copy-nin turned his formidable intellect to the task at hand . . . only to find that, in matters of the heart at least, being a genius was highly overrated. He knew there was something wrong with himself, though, and that was a start.

Speaking of start, I don’t even know where to begin, he reminded himself. He flipped through scenarios in his mind, searching for the one with the highest probability of success. He reluctantly concluded that the only place to start was at the beginning, so he grimly resolved to visit Aoshi in prison the next day, hoping for . . .he wasn’t sure what, but hopeful none the less.

Iruka rose early, as he did every weekday. He showered and dressed, fixed himself a healthy breakfast, packed a bento for lunch, shoved his papers in his briefcase and headed off to the academy, ill-prepared to face a long day under the scrutiny of thirty pre-genin.

Kakashi rose early, as he did whenever he had a mission. And a mission this was, even if self-appointed. His nerves were in knots, breakfast was a complete impossibility. He dressed slowly, but could only stall for so long. All too soon he was dressed and ready so he steeled himself and headed off to the prison for a long-overdue talk with one Kuroshin Aoshi.

The guards were surprised to see sharingan Kakashi visiting a prisoner. Most ninja stayed as far from the prison as possible, the memories of captivity it stirred best left forgotten. Still, while unusual, it wasn’t prohibited, so they showed him to a small room and went to fetch Aoshi.

“Hey, you have a visitor.” the guard shouted. The man stretched out on the cot, hands behind his head, and slowly smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s about time,” he ground out, “I thought that bitch would never get here.”

The guard yanked his arms through the bars and fastened cuffs around the tall man’s wrists. “You should watch the way you talk about your betters.” he snapped. “My better,” Aoshi retorted, “as if.”

“Hatake-san is the most respected soldier we have,” the guard retorted, “you aren’t fit to lick his boots.” “Funny,” Aoshi mused, “I seem to recall he was the one doing all the licking.” and he laughed, “and liking it, too.”

Kakashi fidgeted in his chair, unsure if he was ready to face Aoshi, even more unsure if he was ready to face the dark parts of himself. But I have to try, he reminded himself, if I want to fix things with Iruka then I have to fix myself. He heard Aoshi’s taunting voice bantering with the guard as they approached and he felt the blood in his veins turn to ice. “I can do this.” he declared, although his voice was barely above a whisper.

Then the door swung open and Kakashi looked up into the smiling face he’d never wanted to see again. “So, did you miss me pet?” Aoshi jocularly inquired, “I know I miss your hot tight ass.” Kakashi went stark white. “Watch your mouth fuckhead.” the guard bellowed as he shoved the former-ANBU hard in the center of the back, pushing him into the chair bolted to the floor and cuffing his ankles to it. When he finished he turned to Kakashi “We’ll be watching, are you sure you want to do this?” “No,” the copy-nin replied, “but it needs to be done . . . I’ll be fine, I’ll call you when we’re finished.” The guard bowed, glared once more at the prisoner, and departed, leaving the two men to scrutinize each other.

“We need to talk about what you did to me,” the copy-nin hesitantly began “and why, why me I mean.” “Tsk, tsk, pet, what I did to you . . . you seemed to be pretty involved to me. Why do you assume I did anything other than what you really wanted and were afraid to admit to? You needed me, I never needed you. You, slut, are infinitely replaceable while I, on the other hand, I am a rarity in this world of ours, a man who knows exactly what he wants and takes it. I am what you only wish you could be.”

“No,” the jounin replied “you’re wrong. You’re everything I hate about myself.” “Really,” Aoshi replied dryly, “you keep telling yourself that while you keep wishing you had the guts to follow in my footsteps. You’re so weak, so pitiful . . . how long do you think you’ll be able to fool people, you know eventually they’ll see how weak and worthless you are now that I’m gone. You’ll be alone. I just wish I could be there to watch. I wonder if you’ll take the coward’s way out like your father?”

Kakashi’s head was reeling, he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. He leapt from his chair and bolted into the hall, struggling to calm his racing heart. I thought I could do this, but I can’t, he’s right I’m so weak. Head lowered in shame he left the building and went home, avoiding everyone, wanting to be alone in his confusion.