I Shall Not Want

A/N: This was a hellacious chapter to write, but I think it came out pretty decent. A note: I said 'To hell with fanon!' and made Kakashi's ANBU name Jackal. There's only one reference to it, but I figured I'd clear it up before I got a bunch of people asking who the hell Jackal is.

I would like to respectfully dedicate this chapter to the eye-searing pink polka-dotted jacket Kakashi wears in the omake of episode...95, I think? I'm obsessed with that thing. It makes my eyes bleed.

Please, I implore you to leave feedback. Since I don't get paid for this, your comments are my only reward.

Bishounen and baguettes to the betas, bronzetigress, stinky_horowitz and venusian_eye.

I Shall Not Want

Part 3: Kiss of Death, Kiss of Life

Tsunade is standing up, facing the window, when Kakashi is ushered into her office by one of her new chuunin assistants. The pig, Tonton, is nestled in the corner, looking fatter than ever. Since Shizune had her soul ripped out by Pain, the pig has developed an eating disorder that no one seems inclined to curb. It is a pig, after all, Kakashi supposes.

Tsunade, by contrast, looks thinner than ever, except for her breasts which never seem to change shape. Kakashi doesn't know if that's genetics or artifice, but he guesses the former, since he doesn't think any woman would deliberately make herself look that top-heavy. He's never claimed to be any sort of expert on women, though.

As he comes to a stop in front of her desk, Tsunade turns to face him, her eyes tired and her too-young face drawn. His eye is led immediately to the scar that starts high on her right cheek, traveling down her face and throat, over her internal jugular. The scar was bestowed on the Godaime by a jutsu created by Danzou specifically for use against her, to spite the vanity that drove her to conceal her age. In the unlikely event that she survived the wounds made by the jutsu, the scars left behind could not be prevented by healing or concealed by any jutsu except one that made the user completely invisible. Even in a henge form, the defect would be visible somewhere.

Tsunade has ways around that, Kakashi knows—she isn't the Hokage for her boobs, after all. But she hasn't even tried to hide the ugly scar marring her pretty face and neck; it is a war wound she is proud of. Killing Danzou, she once confided to Kakashi and Iruka after a rare night of carousing, was probably the greatest service she could have rendered to Konoha.

“If you're here to yell at me about Iruka having to leave his teaching position, save it, Kakashi,” Tsunade says, waving at him dismissively. “Naruto was just here, and I've had all the screaming I can take for one morning. I won't tell you anything I didn't tell him. I didn't want to promote Iruka, but I had no choice. He's needed elsewhere.”

“I didn't come to protest him leaving his post at the Academy,” Kakashi responds, projecting as much good cheer as he can stand, and is amused by the wary tension that sets in his Hokage's shoulders.

She lets out a huffing chuckle, and sits down at her desk. “Is that so. I guess I know what you're here about, then. Ahhh, I was really hoping Iruka would put off telling you for a few days so I wouldn't have to deal with all this at once.”

Kakashi, still standing, crosses his arms slowly over his chest. “Iruka couldn't have kept something like that from me if he wanted to.”

“Is that so,” Tsunade says absently.

Kakashi feels a current of rage surging from the base of his spine out to his fingertips, and quells it. “So what kind of a name is 'Dagon' for an ANBU?” he asks casually. “I've noticed that the names are getting a little strange nowadays.”

Tsunade sighs, folding her hands and resting her chin on them. “We've...had a very high turnover in ANBU these last few years,” she says, 'turnover' being an obvious euphemism for 'mortality rate'. “Much higher than usual. A lot of the animal names were being recycled too fast. It was lowering morale.”

“That had come to my attention,” Kakashi says. He's only been reinstated into ANBU for about eight months, but in that time he's already had three ANBU named 'Eagle' under his command, among a few other multiples. ANBU are supposed to be anonymous and to have no real identities, so the names should be interchangeable even among the living, but the reality is different. Friends and comrades of the first Eagle resented working with the second, as if the second Eagle was being deliberately disrespectful to the dead. The third Eagle was then scorned by the comrades of both the first and the second.

In more peaceful times, such stigma attached to a codename might not have been an issue. But the loss of so many ninja, so many ANBU, in so short a time is driving the survivors to extremes. Either they isolate, or bond fiercely. Either way, the tensions are difficult to deal with.

“I told the operative in charge of assigning code names to start branching out,” Tsunade continues. “He was very happy about it. Seems he'd gotten flak for trying to do that before—you remember Chelonian?”

Kakashi chuckles, nodding. “No one could ever remember that name.”

Tsunade smiles grimly. “Well, Dagon's only two syllables, so even you shouldn't have a problem remembering it, brat.”

“'Even me'? Since when do I have a problem with my memory?”

“If Dagon was anyone else, I'm sure you wouldn't.”

Kakashi finally sits down, hands curling over the armrests of his chair, legs crossed. He's more than ready to get to the point. “Dagon should be someone else, Tsunade-san.”

Tsunade closes her eyes briefly, and then looks up at the ceiling, as though imploring it for help. “I was wondering when you were going to start in on this.”

“Iruka is a fine shinobi, and he'll be a great jounin. He won't be a good terrorist.”

Tsunade raises a brow. “Terrorist?”

“An ANBU incendiary specialist? That's a terrorist. Don't insult me by suggesting otherwise.”

“I didn't assign him a specialty, you know,” Tsunade says, evasive as ever when she doesn't want to admit something. “He studied incendiary jutsu and manual explosives on his own. I'm putting him where he's needed based on the skills he possesses. You can call him a terrorist if you want, but it might make him harder to work with.”

“I don't plan on working with him, not in ANBU.” Kakashi can feel his anger seething just below the surface of his control, and though he's locking it down as best he can, he doesn't know how long he can have this conversation without snapping.

Tsunade raises a brow and smiles a wry little smile that Kakashi envisions cheerfully slicing off her face. “That sort of attitude will definitely make him harder to work with,” she comments, and there is amusement in her voice. “He won't like—”

“What do we need an incendiary specialist for on a recon mission?” he cuts in, to keep the dam from breaking. He knows the hastiness of his interruption is his desperation showing through, and puts more effort into reining it in.

“It's not just a recon mission,” Tsunade responds, serious again. “Sunagakure is doing the recon; ours is an assassination mission, now. If there are no serious complications, perhaps there will be no need for any 'terrorism'--” Kakashi can almost hear the quotes around the word, “--but we have reason to believe things could get very nasty in Wind Country. We'll go over all that in the briefing you'll get closer to your departure time, when we receive the new intel from Suna; for now, all the information you need to prepare is in the mission packet you—”

“Hokage-sama, please,” Kakashi says, feeling stretched and warped out of shape. He leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. “Please remove Iruka from my team. Please get him out of ANBU. He's useful enough as a jounin; he doesn't need to... Tsunade-sama, I could bear anything but this. I'll do anything.” His pride just barely keeps him from kneeling down and bowing his head to the floor.

Tsunade's eyes harden. “Now this is very surprising,” she murmurs. “Of all people, I never expected you to give in to such weakness, Kakashi.”

Kakashi's insides twist. His eye narrows as he sits up straight again.

Tsunade's hands drop, her arms folding on the desktop. “You're putting your needs before the needs of your country and your village because of Iruka, again? Perhaps I made a mistake, allowing your relationship to continue as it has.”

“Tsunade,” Kakashi growls under his breath, warning.

“What would Iruka say, if he heard you talking like this?” Tsunade continues, her voice low and harsh. “He understands that we all have to put the village's needs before our own. Me, you, everyone. None of this has anything to do with what we want, what we think we can or can't live with. I thought that was something you understood as well, Kakashi, despite your indiscretion a few years back. Is this a lesson you still haven't learned? Do I need to take measures to ensure that the relationship between the two of you will not compromise the effectiveness of either of you?”

“Do you expect that our effectiveness won't be compromised if you separate us?” His voice is still low, controlled, but there is a slight tremor in it that infuriates him.

“Maybe it will, but if you make yourself useless to me before I do, it won't matter, will it?” Tsunade leans forward, her hands clawing against her forearms and the wood of her desk. “If need be, Kakashi, I will forbid you and Iruka from being personally involved with each other. I know you have some sort of jutsu binding the two of you together, but you will both just have to live with the pain of separation, if that is the only way to get you to stop being so goddamn selfish,” her voice sinks to a grating hiss as her fists thunk down on her desk, “and get your priorities in order like the shinobi you are!”

Kakashi is completely stunned. He had, up until this point, considered his Hokage a friend, but he will never make that mistake again. The rage inside breaks free in the form of a seething black hatred that seems to ooze from his skin like poison, invisible but cloying. He abruptly stands, his burning eye on his betrayer. “I see,” is all he says, but it sounds like a curse.

Tsunade can obviously sense the change in the atmosphere; she looks a little shaken. Kakashi takes great pleasure in seeing her disturbed. “Kakashi, wait. Sit down,” she orders, but it's too late, even if she realizes she's miscalculated. For what she's said, Kakashi will never forgive her.

He turns and starts toward the door.

“You're not dismissed yet, shinobi!” she calls after him, but he doesn't stop. He gets to the door and opens it, hearing her footsteps as she comes after him. She lays a hand on his arm. “Kakashi, wait a minute,” she says.

Having her treacherous fingers on him is the last straw. Whirling on her, he acts completely on instinctive impulse. He rips his mask down, heedless of who might see, and grabs her cheeks hard, like he wants to crush her face. He forces his mouth over hers and, using his breath, his tongue and all the force of his chakra, pushes his venomous loathing into her, as much as he can, as hard as he can stand it.

When he pulls away she is shaking, and stinks of fear. Painful satisfaction rips at him again, and he's sorry she's too strong for him to cause her to lose control of her bodily functions. “If you think you can separate us, go ahead and try,” he hisses, almost too low for even her exceptional hearing. “See what happens.” He releases her and smiles, feeling in control of himself once again. He pulls up his mask, turns and strolls off, nodding at Sakura and Shikamaru, who are hovering nearby and looking very ill.


Kakashi goes straight home from the Hokage Tower, only detouring around Guy and Neji, who are racing boisterously across the rooftops. Well, Neji is only boisterous by association, he supposes, smirking at the young man's indignant scowl. Kakashi knows from talking to Neji that the scowl serves to disguise a persistent, perpetually annoyed sort of affection.

Guy has been harassing Neji quite a lot lately, to distract him from his upcoming arranged marriage to his cousin, Hinata. Violating the incest taboo is quite a price to pay for becoming the next head of the main family, but in light of the dwindling number of strong Byakugan users remaining in the Hyuuga clan, Kakashi can understand Hiashi's decision. If the genetics play out as they should, Neji and Hinata will have some very formidable offspring.

Assuming anyone can ever get them drunk enough to actually have sex, that is.

Kakashi skirts the edges of Guy's perception—he really doesn't want to get roped into whatever Guy has planned for Neji—and slips feet-first into the window he left open at home, pulsing chakra through his soles to disable the wards.

The mask of Dagon is still sitting in the pile of mirror shards, and he stares down at it with numb indifference for a few moments before picking it up and depositing it on top of the knapsack on the kitchen table, where it thunks softly against the body armor in the bag.

He returns to the living room with a broom and a cardboard box, sweeping the remains of the mirror into the box and then taking the empty frame off the wall. He lugs them both out to the dumpster and tosses them in.

He returns to the apartment, takes off his mask and hangs it on the keyrack. He stands by the front door for a moment, staring blankly into space, thinking. His mind is not providing him with any helpful solutions to the problem of Dagon, except for fleeing the country. Becoming a missing-nin would go hard against his grain, but he could do it, for Iruka's sake.

He won't, though, because he knows it would be mostly for his own sake, if he left now, more to spare himself anguish than to spare Iruka. And there's no way Iruka would go with him voluntarily. Iruka might be capable of outspoken defiance, but in his own way he's one of the strongest patriots Kakashi knows, vehemently supportive of his country without being blind to its flaws.

Kakashi might be able to force Iruka to leave, somehow, but he won't do that, either. The resentment it would sow aside, he promised himself a long time ago that he would never force Iruka to do anything ever again, not after what happened last time. He's not in the habit of breaking promises to himself or anyone else, and now is not the time to start.

Unable to think of anything useful and feeling restless, Kakashi heads into the kitchen and searches the fridge and the cupboards for something to make for dinner. It's a bit early, only one in the afternoon, and he finds duck confit, fresh pork belly, plenty of sausages and several cans of white beans, so he decides to make a cassoulet.

The cooking relaxes him, the busywork of simmering the beans and pork without turning them to mush, browning the sausages, and layering the ingredients in the dutch oven keeping his mind from picking at the consequences that might ensue from his earlier meeting with the Hokage.

As the afternoon wears on, he feels the presence of several ANBU stationing themselves around the apartment. It occurs to him that if he gets himself taken off duty, Iruka will still be in ANBU and there will be someone else leading the mission to Wind Country.

For the first time, he realizes that Iruka having his first mission as ANBU under Kakashi's command might actually have something to do with Tsunade's consideration for Kakashi's feelings, as preposterous as that seems. ANBU rarely remain on the same team for successive missions unless they work very well together; there are only a few ANBU partnerships that Kakashi can think of offhand. Tsunade is giving him and Iruka a chance right away to test their skills together, and...

Kakashi has been so preoccupied with the horror of having to be Iruka's ANBU captain, that he hasn't really thought about the horror of Iruka having someone else as a captain. When Kakashi's in mission-mode, it won't really make any difference—it's not as though he'll be able to spare Iruka from anything, or that he'll protect him the way he would if Iruka was his genin student. But it could make quite a lot of difference, once the objectives are cleared.

It's almost enough to make him feel a little regretful of his behavior toward the Godaime, but not quite.

When the cassoulet is nearly done after its third hour in the oven, Iruka comes home. Kakashi puts Icha Icha Nuisance back in his pocket and walks to the front door when he hears the keys jingling, and pulls his partner inside before he has a chance to completely open the door. He wraps his arms tight around Iruka's chest, breathing in the latent scents of antibacterial ointment, tears and grilled beef.

“Hmm, let's see... you had the kids do training exercises and then took them out for barbecue?” he asks. He likes playing Guess What Iruka Did Today by smell.

Iruka hugs him hard enough that his ribs creak. “Yeah. Battle simulations. I figured I might as well give them a practical review. It was fun,” he finishes softly. “Lunch was fun, too.”

“You break your bank?”

He can feel Iruka smile against the side of his neck. “Possibly. It was 'all you can eat' day, though, so I'm not in too much trouble. Besides, I've got a better pay grade now.”

Kakashi makes a face. “Don't remind me,” he says sourly. “You run into Chouji?”

“He and Shikamaru ate with us.”

“Hn.” Kakashi pulls away a little, looking into his partner's face. “You doing okay?”

Iruka smiles, kissing him softly. “Yeah. I had a good time today. I thought it would be a lot harder than it was...I guess it hasn't really hit me yet, that I'm not going back. I have to go clean out my desk tomorrow. I really should have done it today, but...” His gaze becomes unsettled, sharpened.

Kakashi can tell from that look that Iruka's heard something troubling about him. He puts together Shikamaru's presence when he left the Hokage's office and his presence at the barbecue, and sighs inwardly, pulling away. “You hungry again, yet?”

“I could eat,” Iruka says doubtfully, pulling off his flak vest and hanging it up by the door. “Something smells terrific.”

“Cassoulet,” Kakashi informs him, heading to the kitchen to take it out of the oven just as the timer starts chiming. “And salade Niçoise with aioli.”

Iruka picks his ANBU gear off the table and dumps it unceremoniously in the corner. “French tonight, huh? Mm, I'll do my best to do it justice, but...”

“If there's too much leftover, we can always give some to Naruto and Sai when they come for breakfast,” Kakashi says, getting serving utensils while Iruka sets the table—forks tonight, no chopsticks. Kakashi insists upon it with foreign food.

“I noticed the mirror by the hallway is missing,” Iruka mentions as he puts down plates. “Did you move it?”

“I broke it. Hope you weren't really attached to it, or something.” Kakashi breaking things is a frequent enough occurrence, and usually he does it for fun, so it shouldn't cause Iruka undue alarm.

Iruka shrugs. “It's just a mirror. You weren't hurt, were you?”

Thinking of the shallow lacerations on his knees and shins, Kakashi answers, “Nope.”

“Hm. That all you did today? Cook and break stuff?” Iruka asks. His back is to Kakashi, so Kakashi can't see his partner's expression.

“No,” Kakashi answers. Iruka turns to look at him, and he smiles in what he hopes is a disarmingly cheerful way. “Let's eat.” Iruka won't bring up anything unpleasant until after the meal, and Kakashi hasn't decided how he's going to field Iruka's questions yet.

Iruka's penetrating gaze indicates he knows Kakashi's just stalling, but he sits down and starts digging into the salad instead of calling him on it. Kakashi brings the dutch oven to the table, setting it on a cast-iron trivet, and sits down to join Iruka.

Dinner goes far too fast for Kakashi's liking. Iruka makes a lot of appreciative noises, but he's obviously still full from the barbecue. Kakashi hasn't really eaten since breakfast, but he's not hungry either. So with the little they've put on their plates barely half-finished, they both set down their forks and get up to clear the table.

Neither of them says anything as Kakashi puts the food in Tupperware boxes, and Iruka cleans the dishes. When the kitchen is as tidy as it's going to get, Iruka heads into the living room and sits in one of the armchairs opposite their couch, raising a brow at Kakashi, who's still standing just in his line of sight by the refrigerator.

Knowing he can't put off the imminent conversation, however it will go, Kakashi strolls casually into the room and flops down on the sofa. “Something's bothering you?” he asks. “Other than the obvious, I mean.”

Iruka shakes his head a little, as though to scoff at Kakashi's coyness. “I couldn't help noticing that somehow in the time I was gone, you've managed to get an ANBU guard put on you.”

Kakashi squashes the impulse to scratch the back of his head and wave off the concern. That would probably not go over well. “Ah...”

“Shikamaru told me something interesting, after lunch.”

“What was that?”

“He said,” Iruka grumbles, his eyes darkening, “that you kissed Tsunade-sama.”

Kakashi feels a slight, shocking jolt as it occurs to him for the first time how his aggression might have read to any passers-by. He curses himself for allowing his preoccupation to blind him to something so obvious. “It wasn't a kiss,” he says firmly, hands gripping his knees. “Not at all.” Fucking Shikamaru, what does he think he's doing, telling Iruka something like that?

“He did mention that it was more like a bazooka to the face than an expression of affection,” Iruka concedes, a slight twinkle in his eye indicating he'd only used the word 'kissed' to dig at Kakashi, before his expression turns grim. “You scared them. Badly. Tsunade-sama, Shikamaru and Sakura.” His eyes narrow. “Would you like to tell me why?” he asks in a voice that makes it clear that telling him is not optional.

Kakashi relaxes, glad he won't have to rout the notion that he's having an affair with the Hokage from his partner's head—they have quite enough problems as it is—and that he won't have to kill Shikamaru, as he likes the guy pretty well. The tension creeps into him again, though, as his conversation with Tsunade begins replaying in his head. His hands twitch a little, as telling a sign of his infuriation as if he'd balled them into fists. “She threatened to forbid us from having a relationship,” he snarls.

He hears a very small hitch in Iruka's breathing, and opens his mouth to reassure Iruka that he would never let anything come between them, even a stupidly powerful old battleaxe of a bitch like Tsunade, but Iruka's next question freezes him.

“What did you say to her that would make her consider that a necessary possibility, Kakashi?” His voice is flat, strained.

Floored, Kakashi rises from his seat, staring down incredulously at Iruka. “Who fucking cares what I said?! How is that in any way justifiable? She—”

“Kakashi,” Iruka says, standing up as well. His head is slightly bowed, shadowing his eyes. “Tsunade-sama would not say something like that unless she had a reason to believe that our being together would detract from our ability to act as Konoha's weapons. She's not in a position to be able to overlook any sign of possible weakness, no matter how friendly we might be with her in casual circumstances. She is the Hokage, and her priority is Konoha, not our relationship. Our priorities are the same, Kakashi, or they should be.”

Feeling betrayed, Kakashi lashes out with, “What are you, her puppet?”

Iruka's hands fist and Kakashi can see the muscles in his neck tighten. “It is our prerogative and our duty, Kakashi-san, to be the best tools we can be. The sake of Konoha is part of it, but for myself, it's also for the sake of not being parted from you by death, duty, underdeveloped abilities or the inability to cope. I can take having to leave the Academy. I can handle becoming a tokubetsu jounin, even joining ANBU. Tsunade-sama knows that, or she wouldn't have promoted me. Konoha's situation is dire, but we're not so desperate that Tsunade-sama would fill ANBU with incompetents just to keep it running. You know that too, if you would quit thinking about how this affects you for two seconds,” Iruka growls. He looks up, his eyes burning and ferocious. “I can guess what you said to Tsunade-sama—to remove me from ANBU, either because I can't handle it or you can't handle it. Probably both. And when she wouldn't listen to you, and tried to put you in your place the way a superior has to do when her subordinates are being idiots, you got pissed enough to threaten her.”

“I never threatened her,” Kakashi says automatically.

“Please,” Iruka hisses. “You don't get an ANBU guard for just thumbing your nose at the Hokage. If that were the case, half my students would have a guard on them.”

Kakashi puts a hand on his partner's arm. “Look...I won't deny that you've got a decent handle on the situation. But you have to—”

“Damn it, Kakashi!” Iruka roars, flinging his hand away and stepping forward, seizing him by the collar, shaking him. “You're so fucking stupid sometimes! You couldn't have gotten any other outcome from asking the Hokage to take me out of ANBU than her telling you to suck it up, not with the way things have been going lately! You had to know that as well as I do, and you think I'll blame her if she's forced to separate us?! You think I'll blame the Hokage because you're completely incapable of acting like an adult when something doesn't go your way?!!”

He's practically screeching now, tears brimming in his eyes. Kakashi's stunned; he's never seen Iruka lose it like this, in hysterics. Iruka's scared, Kakashi realizes. Terrified of being separated from Kakashi. More scared of that than anything else. Kakashi empathizes completely. After all, he admits reluctantly, that's what drove him to react so badly to Tsunade's ultimatum.

He flings his arms around Iruka, whose hands are still fisted in his collar, and buries his face in his partner's shoulder. He holds on tight until the trembling tension in Iruka's body begins to subside, and the grip at his neck loosens. He lifts his mouth from the cloth of Iruka's shirt just enough that his voice isn't muffled when he whispers, “I'm sorry.”

“I don't need a 'sorry',” Iruka snaps unsteadily.

Kakashi holds him tighter. “What could I do? It might sound weird, coming from me, but I don't think I can handle this. You in ANBU, giving you those orders...I could do anything else, but that's just...”

“Something like this is not beyond your capabilities, Kakashi,” Iruka says, his voice evening out and quieting. “You don't want to, and I don't want you to have to if it's this painful for you, but it isn't up to us.”

Kakashi grimaces, drawing back just enough to look into Iruka's face. There's no trace of the panic that was on it just a minute ago; there's just a sad smile and eyes full of reasonable compassion. Kakashi applauds inwardly that his partner has gotten himself back under control so quickly. He wouldn't have always been able to; the training he's been undergoing for the past couple of years has really paid off. He would have had to be extremely unsettled to go off like that in the first place. Kakashi feels a prick of guilt in his chest.

He forces his thoughts back to the matter at hand. “You've read my ANBU dossier,” he starts.

Iruka nods. “A few times.” After he'd been living with Iruka for a year, Tsunade and Ibiki had decided that Iruka should read it, since Iruka had become Kakashi's 'handler'--Ibiki's word. Kakashi had been livid at first, since he didn't like the idea of Iruka treating him like a mission or a patient, and he didn't want Iruka to know about every single crime against humanity he was capable of perpetrating. Iruka refused outright to read it without the go-ahead from Kakashi, and—luckily for all of them—he hadn't been ordered to. Instead, Tsunade and Ibiki had worn on Kakashi, pressing on him the advantages of full disclosure (which Kakashi still couldn't see) and the unlikelihood that Iruka would start treating him differently or hold anything he'd been ordered to do against him. He'd relented with misgivings after several weeks of their harassment, still unable to understand why they thought this was so important. But they were at least correct that Iruka's behavior toward him didn't alter. Iruka had never brought the subject up, actually, never asked him about any of those old missions, or tried to make him talk about them the way Tsunade sometimes did. Kakashi hadn't even been absolutely certain Iruka had read his files until this moment.

Kakashi smiles, lacing his finger's behind Iruka's neck. “Do you remember the mission I was on, about thirteen years ago, where we raped and cut up those little girls? Or ten years ago, when I burned that boy's eyes out with acid in front of his mother?”

Iruka's facial expression doesn't change as he nods again.

Still smiling, Kakashi asks, “Do you really think those are things I could order you to do?”

Without missing a beat, Iruka says, “You're not fond of Dagon. You could order him to do them. And Jackal definitely could, whether it was me or Dagon.”

Kakashi's not sure what's showing on his face, but whatever it is makes Iruka's hands grip his waist tightly. “Let's say that's true,” Kakashi says, conceding to himself that it probably is. “Let's say I could give those orders to you, and you could carry them out. Could you live with yourself, after? When you're just at home, making tea and pretending to be human?”

Iruka's mouth twists ruefully. “Possibly not. Better men than me have committed seppuku while suffering from lesser offenses. But,” he continues, as Kakashi's eye widens, “I could live with you. We will help each other survive. Our dependence on each other is something I plan to take full advantage of under these circumstances. We're lucky, in a way, Kakashi, as long as we don't allow our bond to become a weakness.” His face twists in a snarl as he raises his hands to Kakashi's face, nails clawing the sides of his partner's head. “Which is why if you force Tsunade-sama's hand and drive her to permanently separate us, I will never forgive you.”

Kakashi shakes his head as much as he can with Iruka still gripping it, his hands sliding away from the back of Iruka's head to grip his shoulders. “How can you say you'd live with me, when I would be the one who forced you to do such abominable things?”

Iruka's arms drop, and he folds them over his chest. “This is why I say you're an idiot sometimes, Kakashi. It's not in my nature to hold my commanding officers' orders against them, you know that. I'll speak out against whatever I think is unjust or unfair, but I won't argue with a field command. Unless I truly believe my commanding officer is unfit for duty, I won't disobey a direct order, and I won't blame my commander for giving it.”

“I think the reality of this is going to be a lot harder than you think it is.”

One of Iruka's mirthless chuckles grates on Kakashi's ears. “Yeah, I'm sure it will. But luckily, the majority of ANBU missions aren't that different from regular jounin missions. The really ugly stuff is only once in a while, isn't it? Maybe I'll be lucky. I'm not counting on it, but it's possible. Besides, ANBU doesn't have a monopoly on the unspeakable. In our line of work, no matter who you are, you run across terrible things. That's just the life we've chosen.”

Dropping his forehead against his partner's, Kakashi whispers, “Did we really choose this life, Iruka? Who the fuck would choose this? A decision you make as a kid...can you really be held to that for the rest of your life?”

“Obviously, the answer to that is yes,” Iruka retorts. “It's not like you to be philosophical about this subject, Kakashi. You can't question your entire life just because I've been appointed to ANBU.” His voice is lightly chastising, but hints at something very hard underneath.

Kakashi lets go of Iruka and flops down on the couch. He rests his elbow on the arm, putting his forehead in his hand. “No, not for my sake, I'm not. There's no way I could stop being a ninja now, anyway. I wouldn't be able to survive doing anything else.” He cocks his head. “Except stripping, maybe, but I'm not as young as I used to be.”

Iruka snorts. “If I had to pay to see that, I would. Lucky for my bank account that you love me enough not to charge.”

They smirk at each other for a minute, and Kakashi considers the wisdom of asking Iruka for a lap dance. The seriousness that still lingers in his partner's expression deters him, and he sighs heavily. “I guess you want me to apologize to Tsunade, huh.”

Before Iruka can answer, there is a knock at the door. Kakashi doesn't bother raising his head as Iruka goes to answer it, but he does when he hears Iruka exclaim, “Tsunade-sama! Ibiki-san!”

His eye narrows. Ibiki has been over once or twice, and he and Iruka have socialized with the Hokage before, but she's never showed up at their apartment.

“How many times do I have to tell you to knock it off with the '-sama' in private, Iruka?” Tsunade snaps, but there's no bite in her words. Apparently she means to indicate that she and Ibiki are not there on official business. Kakashi doesn't know if that's worrisome or not, but he doesn't want to let that woman into his home.

He gets up and stands next to his slightly pale partner, putting a discreetly reassuring hand on the small of Iruka's back, smiling inwardly at the vicious glare his partner shoots him. He stares coldly at the Hokage, ignoring Ibiki for now. “To what do we owe the honor?”

“We need to talk,” Tsunade says bluntly. “Things got ugly in my office earlier, and I don't think they needed to. I accept most of the responsibility for that.” She raises a brow at him. “I would prefer not to discuss this on your doorstep, Kakashi.”

“Of course,” Iruka says, backing away from the door to let them in. “I'll—”

Kakashi stretches his arm across the door frame, blocking the entrance. “And what part of this can't wait until tomorrow, in your office?” he says, voice steely. “Isn't this between you and me? Why do we need to bother Iruka and Ibiki with our...disagreement?”

“Let us in, Kakashi,” Ibiki says with quiet menace. It's a pretty normal tone of voice for him, but something in it indicates that he's had a long day, he's not in the mood to stand outside while Kakashi and Tsunade quibble, and he's not prepared to put up with it.

After a few seconds Kakashi relents, dropping his arm and stepping back while they enter, kicking off their shoes and each dropping into an armchair. Kakashi can hear Iruka banging around in the kitchen, probably making tea. Maybe getting alcohol, since it's Tsunade. He sits on the couch, staring hard at Ibiki and Tsunade, who regard him as they might a possibly-rabid wolverine.

“Don't get me wrong,” Tsunade starts, which seems to Kakashi to be a rather inauspicious beginning to the conversation. “What you did...shit, I'm not even sure what exactly it was that you did, but it went well beyond insubordination, Kakashi. In front of witnesses, even—it's not like you to be that careless.” Her eyes drop. “What I said, Kakashi, about separating you and Iruka...well. I won't say that I didn't mean it, but if your reaction was anything to go by, it was a card played far too early. My purpose was to foster obedience at the expense of your anger and insolence, not to provoke you to the point of turning completely and possibly irrevocably against me. Your reaction was far beyond anything I expected, but Ibiki tells me that the nature of this bond you two have is such that I should have expected it.”

The scarred man in the chair next to her nods his head once. “I think we should reconsider—”

Tsunade holds up a hand. “Let's wait for Iruka. I told him before that I would leave this decision up to him, so he ought to be here while we discuss it.”

“Discuss what?” Kakashi asks. The turn this conversation seems to be taking is making him very uneasy.

Iruka returns to the room, carrying a tray filled with mugs of beer; Kakashi notes with amusement that there are eight mugs for the four of them. Iruka neatly drags a little coffee table closer between the chairs and the couch with his foot, and sets the tray down on it. He looks up and smiles, sitting down next to Kakashi and primly crossing his legs. “Help yourselves, Tsunade-san, Ibiki-san.”

Tsunade takes a mug with a wide grin. “Such a good host, Iruka,” she says, and drains it in one go.

Ibiki nods as he takes his own, mutters “Kanpai” and drinks at a far more leisurely pace.

Kakashi doesn't feel like doing Tsunade or Ibiki the courtesy of drinking with them, but of course Iruka picks up two mugs and hands one to him with a 'drink, or else' gleam in his eye. Kakashi sips at the dark red brew a bit resentfully.

“So what were you saying we should reconsider, Ibiki?” Kakashi asks, when he figures the silence has gone on long enough.

“We should reconsider having Tsunade-san study the bond between you. It will be better if she knows exactly what she's dealing with, so there are no more blow-ups like today's,” Ibiki says, resting his half-full mug on his thigh.

Iruka's brow furrows. “Tsunade-san...you don't need our permission to look into that.”

“Why not?” Kakashi counters. “She said she wouldn't unless you thought it was necessary. You think it's all right for the Hokage to tell people she'll do one thing and then do whatever she wants, regardless? Is that your idea of a good leader?”

Iruka turns to him, surprised. “Of course I'm not saying that, Kakashi, but—”

The Hokage thunks her second empty mug down on the tray. “Asking you is just a formality, Iruka, but I would like you to agree to it.”

Iruka eyes her warily. Kakashi is pleased with his caution.

“I'm prepared to grant Kakashi immunity from any forbidden or otherwise illegal acts pertaining to this jutsu,” she continues. “No matter where he got it or what it does, I won't take any action against him. I've got a signed document to that effect in my office; I'll have a copy delivered to you tomorrow.”

“Well,” Iruka says, looking thoughtful, “if that's the case, I see no reason to protest. What do you think, Kakashi?”

Kakashi doesn't want the Hokage looking into the soul bond. If by some one-in-a-billion chance she discovers a way to undo it without killing one or both of them, he has no doubt she'll want to try it. Whatever strength they draw from each other, the fact remains that separation is an exploitable weakness for them that Tsunade will want to eliminate if she can. He's as firm in his belief that the jutsu can't be undone as he ever was, but he doesn't want to take any chances.

He understands that his feelings are self-serving, though, and knows that there's no way he can oppose this. At best, he'll get a tag-team lecture from Tsunade and Iruka about putting his own desires before the needs of Konoha; at worst, Ibiki will haul him off to their new and improved chakra-draining prison cells for trying to choke the Hokage with a broken beer mug.

He hopes he doesn't sound too snippy as he smiles and says, “I think Tsunade-san will do what she pleases.”

Ibiki, Iruka and Tsunade all give him a look, and he gets the feeling they're all restraining themselves from rolling their eyes at him.

Tsunade sighs, and picks up another mug of beer. “That'll have to do, I suppose. Can I have Ibiki call off the dogs, Kakashi, or do you have some more hoodoo you want to try out on me?”

“Hoodoo?” Kakashi inquires, raising a brow.

Iruka smirks. “Shikamaru said you gave Tsunade the 'Kiss of Death'.”

“Isn't that something only certain mobsters can do?” Ibiki asks.

“Apparently not,” Kakashi says. “Though I have been undercover with the yakuza a few times. Maybe I picked it up there.” He lifts a brow, peering at Tsunade. “I could attempt the Hug of Permanent Paralysis. Or the Snuggle of Septic Infection.”

Tsunade groans. “How about you just answer my question, Kakashi. Are we okay, or do I need to have you babysat?”

They're not okay. Kakashi doesn't know if they ever will be again, but he's willing to pretend, for his sake and Iruka's. “Sure, we're fine. Should we kiss and make up?” He leers, and almost laughs when Tsunade actually pales a bit.

“Keep your damn lips to yourself,” she growls. “Thanks to you, I don't think I'll ever let a man's lips touch mine again in this lifetime.” She drains her beer, sets the mug on the table and stands. Ibiki stands as well, putting down his own empty mug.

“See us out, Kakashi,” says Ibiki, and Kakashi assumes that means he wants to speak to him privately, or at least without Iruka around. Iruka picks up on that easily, and after clasping hands with their guests in farewell, heads off down the hallway.

Kakashi walks his Hokage and the interrogator to the door, silent as they pull on their shoes. When he opens the door for them, Tsunade nods at him and heads off, while Ibiki just waits on the landing. Kakashi steps outside and closes the door behind him, turning his attention to Ibiki.

“Should I take your guard off, Kakashi? Don't lie.”

That he shouldn't lie would usually go without saying. Ibiki's obviously picked up on more of Kakashi's mental state than he would have liked, if Ibiki felt it necessary to state that. “You can call them off,” he says slowly. “I lost control earlier. Briefly. I was caught off-guard. You know how rarely that happens.”

Ibiki nods. “I know. But you're still radiating a pretty nasty aura, Kakashi. You're obviously still disturbed.”

“Radiating...?”

“I just mean normal body language signals, not anything like Shikamaru described to me. I would really like to have seen that myself,” the scarred man muses.

Kakashi snorts. “I'd try and call it up again, but I don't feel like kissing you right now.”

“Maybe later, then, if I can piss you off enough,” Ibiki says, giving Kakashi a parody of his own leering that is both disturbing and strangely sexy.

Kakashi crosses his arms and leans against the door, looking up at the stars twinkling overhead. “I'm upset. I don't like having the Hokage threaten to destroy the best thing I've ever had. Can you blame me?”

“You know she wouldn't actually separate the two of you unless she felt she had no other option.”

“That's just it,” Kakashi says, mouth thinning to a line. “She didn't even suggest another option. The first thing out of her mouth was 'I'll separate you'. As easy as threatening to send a couple of toddlers into different rooms.”

Ibiki leans on the door next to him. “There's been a lot of unrest recently,” he admits. “You know about some of it. There've been so many changes lately, and too many deaths. Pain's attack and Danzou's insurrection undermined a lot of the confidence people had in Tsunade-san, even though we triumphed over both of them in the end. She needs to build up her image, and Konoha's, at home as much as abroad. She also needs some training in how to handle you and Iruka.”

“Is that why you're here?” Kakashi's mouth curves slightly in amusement. “You cracking the whip on her?”

“She consulted me, I advised her.” Ibiki shrugs. “We ended up here.”

Kakashi would bet a considerable sum that there's a lot more to it than that, if he knows Ibiki. Reassured by the knowledge that Ibiki is the one who orchestrated this little visit, he relaxes more than he has since before breakfast.

“Tsunade can't afford to have her nins defying her, especially not ninja as high-profile and as highly placed as you, Kakashi,” Ibiki continues. “So I don't really blame her for threatening to use a bone-saw to remove a splinter instead of a pair of tweezers. It was just a miscalculation.”

“I wasn't defying her,” Kakashi insists.

Ibiki raises a brow at him. “You didn't say that you wouldn't work with Iruka in ANBU?”

Kakashi has to concede that could be construed as defiance. “I hadn't defied her yet,” he corrects.

Ibiki smiles. “And you certainly won't now, will you? Now that Iruka's convinced you that you have to let him do his job whether you like it or not.”

Kakashi stares at him. “Who said he's convinced me of that?”

“I know you two,” Ibiki replies. Kakashi thinks he looks smug, but it might be his imagination. “Even if by some miracle you actually had talked the Hokage into booting him from ANBU, he'd never have accepted it, you know. Not if the reasoning behind it was as pathetic as yours was.”

Kakashi sighs a little. “Yeah, you're right. I acted too impulsively. I should have made up something pro-Konoha before I went to the Tower this morning, but...” He trails off, remembering how distraught he'd been after Iruka left the apartment. “Not all my synapses were firing.”

Ibiki steps away from the door, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I'll call the boys off. Just watch your step, Kakashi.” He gives a slight smile. “You should go inside and screw your man, because you're not going to see much of him for the next two weeks. ANBU cram school's quite a bitch, if you recall.”

“Sound advice,” Kakashi says, and Ibiki flashes a few seals and vanishes.

Kakashi goes back into the apartment, snagging the two full mugs of beer left on the table as he passes it—no sense letting it sit out and go flat. He walks down the hallway to the bedroom, and stands in the doorway for a minute, gazing at Iruka. His partner is lying on their bed on top of the covers, hair down and clad only in blue plaid pyjama pants, hands folded behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. It's not really late enough for bed, but Iruka once told him that wearing pyjamas makes a day feel officially over. Kakashi can sympathize with that; today feels like it's been long enough for four or five days, at least. He's more than happy to put an end to it.

After certain...considerations, of course.

Grinning, he pads lightly to the bed, sitting down cross-legged on it and plunking one beer mug onto Iruka's chest. “Drink and be merry, for tomorrow you die, Sensei,” he chirps, before remembering that he meant to stop calling Iruka that.

“Tomorrow and every day for at least the next two weeks,” replies Iruka. He holds the mug steady as he sits up and scoots back against his pillows. He smiles, and it has a tinge as bitter as the lager. “People are still going to call me 'Sensei', aren't they,” he says, sounding both resigned and slightly hopeful.

Kakashi considers making a kage bunshin so he can punch himself in the face for being an idiot. “If you don't want them to, they won't, if I have anything to say about it.”

Iruka waves a hand at him. “No, no. Don't bother trying to get people to stop; I've been called 'Sensei' since before I was officially a teacher. A lot of people don't even know my actual name, I'd bet.”

“Like hell they don't.”

“And can you imagine trying to get Naruto to stop calling me 'Iruka-sensei'? It'd be like the time I tried explaining to him that honey is bee vomit. All he'd say was, 'People don't eat vomit; people throw up vomit.' When he decides something is the way it is, all the logic, books, charts and graphs in the world won't change that boy's mind.” Iruka chuckles and takes a gulp of beer.

“He said he'd give it a shot when I talked to him about it this morning,” Kakashi informs him.

Iruka looks up at him slowly. “You talked to him about it?”

Kakashi half-smiles. “Yeah. I asked him to try not to call you that anymore, because I figured you wouldn't want the constant reminder. Then, of course, I forget myself and slip up before he has a chance to, damn it.”

He gulps down most of his beer as Iruka stares at him, exhaling the built-up gas silently from his nose. Iruka puts his mug down on his night table, and then takes Kakashi's and sets it on the table as well. In one swift move, he slips into Kakashi's lap, arms and legs wrapping tightly around him, and kisses him. Kakashi's lips and skin burn where Iruka touches him, as though he's been dusted with cayenne pepper.

Iruka pulls back just as Kakashi's beginning to forget crucial information like his name and where the lube is, and whispers against his mouth, “You're so good sometimes, sweetheart.”

Kakashi's nerves purr warmly at the endearment. Iruka never ever uses them outside of the bedroom, not even in the rest of the house when no one else is around. He doesn't even use them in the bedroom that often, either, so when he does, Kakashi cherishes it. “You need reminding, my love?” he asks, grinding his semi-hard cock gently into his partner's backside.

Iruka pulls back a bit more, to Kakashi's disappointment. “I mean considerate,” he clarifies. His eyes lower a little. “The constant reminder...you're right, I would rather do without it at this point in time, with everything else that's going on. And I feel like I—”

“If this sentence contains the words 'don't deserve', I'm going to bite you in the not-fun way,” Kakashi warns him.

Iruka's mouth stays open on his next word for a second, as the sides of his mouth pull up. “Like I want you to top me, tonight,” he finishes.

“Ooo, nice save,” Kakashi drawls, pushing Iruka onto his back.

“Wait,” Iruka continues, putting a hand up to prevent Kakashi from diving for his lips. Kakashi pouts dramatically, and Iruka snorts. “Don't bother about the whole 'Sensei' thing, Kakashi. I'll get used to the reminder soon enough; I probably won't even think about it enough for it to be an issue. My feelings about it are divided anyway, so we might as well take the path of least resistance.”

Kakashi circumvents the hand, going for Iruka's ear instead of his mouth. “So wise, Sensei,” he thrums into his partner's ear, his voice as deep as it can go. It sounds, even to Kakashi's own ears, like he dragged the words through bitter molasses and wrapped them in velvet.

Even so, Iruka's voice is even deeper and smoother when he groans and says, “I'll get over any lingering reservations pretty quickly if you keep saying it like that. When we're alone,” he qualifies hastily, before Kakashi can file the words away for future defense.

Ah, well. He'll think of a loophole when and if he needs one, or he'll just accept his punishment. It's happened before. Rather a lot, now that he thinks about it. Really, by now Iruka should know better than to encourage him, if he doesn't like Kakashi to arouse him in public as much as he claims. Which is definitely up for debate.

“Whatever Sensei wants,” Kakashi whispers, loving the goosebumps that break out on Iruka's arms under his stroking fingers.

Iruka tugs at his shirt insistently. “I want you naked five minutes ago.”

Kakashi rears back onto his knees, pulling off his shirt and tossing it away, saying, “Maa, I don't have a time-travel jutsu in my repertoire yet, beautiful.” He yanks off his pants, erection weeping at the sight of Iruka kicking off his pyjamas and spreading his legs wide, reaching up for him. “You'll settle for naked now, though, won't you?” Kakashi's voice is on the verge of trembling. He's amazed every time, how much Iruka affects him even after three years of screwing each other. He wonders if it'll be like this twenty years from now, in the unlikely event they both survive that long.

Iruka's grasping hands grab his arms and yank him down. “Shut up,” he orders, and slides his tongue between Kakashi's teeth.

They don't linger long over the necking and the frottage; at a whispered word from Iruka, Kakashi pulls away and grabs the lube out of his night table drawer. He slicks up his fingers and slides them into his partner ungently, but not roughly. Iruka breathes out a low hum, chuckling a little as Kakashi impatiently bites at his nipples and his belly, sucking on the head of his cock just enough that the pain of adding a fourth finger should be negligible.

“Kakashi,” Iruka bites out, his voice a taut wire even though his body is relaxed. “Hurry up and come inside, damn it.”

The desperation in the gruff command fires Kakashi's blood like nothing else. He hooks his elbows under Iruka's knees and surges forward, smoothly filling his partner in one stroke. “Mmmm, yes, Sensei.”

He leans down to his partner's neck, sucking hard over the jugular as he thrusts his hips, slow and hard. It isn't long before he senses the familiar dark sea encroaching on the bed, and feels it spill onto them and surround them, sliding between them, both separating them and pulling them together.

They can manipulate this sea now, to some extent, summoning and banishing it at will, though in their lucid hours neither of them can remember how. They know, in the way one remembers inexplicably knowing something in a dream, that they can only affect it together, working for an identical end. That end is always the enhancement of sensation and experience, though the results are sometimes surprising in retrospect. Together, in this dry ocean, they have been plants, beasts, and birds; they have been evaporated and frozen; they have consumed and been consumed; they have fused and diffused. Neither has any idea what all this means or why it happens, or why these experiences only enhance their sex, instead of detracting from it or interfering. Kakashi really only knows one thing, at the moment.

“God, I love fucking you, Iruka,” he gasps, in a voice that sounds like the wind whipping over the surface of a pond.

Iruka's only response is to pull him deep inside, through his guts and past his stomach, between his lungs and into his heart, where Kakashi belongs.