The Copy Ninja

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JB

Chapter Five

Kakashi sat in Tsunade's office, outwardly calm. His fingers didn't twitch, his feet didn't move, he wasn't biting his tongue or chewing on his lips. His gaze didn't even dart around the room.

His hokage sat across her desk, carefully reviewing what he'd given her. "Are you sure this will work?"

He nodded. In one corner he could see Iruka sitting, trying not to look unhappy about the proceedings.

Tsunade looked up at him, her gaze steady. "Could you do it now?"

It was a reasonable question. And the truth was, he probably could. End everything now, just like that. With no fanfare or anticipation. Counter the jutsu, let himself wisp into smoke and vanish.

He wasn't going to die.

The village was his to protect. And he could protect it best by remembering that it wasn't his at all.

"I could."

She watched him, waiting.

His hands didn't move. He didn't let his gaze stray. Iruka's words from the night before haunted him: They could wait. Buy more time.

He wasn't quite ready to die.

Kakashi took a breath, attention going to the slim figure he could see from the corner of his eye. "I would like to wait."

Tsunade's pale eyebrows rose.

Kakashi didn't let himself react, though it was difficult. He asked for a stay of execution, and she looked at him like he was demanding the village. "A day," he said dryly. "I'd like a day to... put my affairs in order."

She leaned across the desk, eyebrows still lifted. "You don't have affairs."

In the corner, Iruka shifted. Kakashi glanced at him, saw the scowl on the man's face, and looked away. "Assuming we don't have any intel that says the village is in mortal danger in the next twenty-four hours, and you can spare my full strength for that amount of time, I think it's fair to ask for a day to settle myself." His words were a sarcastic drawl, and nothing more.

Tsunade sat back and nodded once. "A day, then. Thank you for this information... and the service to your village."

He nodded once and pushed to his feet, heart heavy and steps dragging.

It wasn't his village.

**

He was aware of the ANBU who'd been following them since leaving the Tower. Iruka had been pretty sure it had been shadowing them for the last twenty-four hours, but the last few it hadn't even tried to hide its presence.

He couldn't even tell, behind the mask and the concealing cloak, if it was male or female. It was simply a bone-white face above a black shape, death with a cheerfully crafted smile. He had never hated Konoha's Special Ops before, but he did now.

The creature stood under the dubious shade of a young cherry tree, a blot of darkness on an otherwise sunny day. Iruka glared at it because Kakashi wouldn't, but received only a rictus grin in return.

There was no comfort to offer the solitary figure standing beside the monument. Lean shoulders bent under the weight of responsibility, hands in deep pockets to hide graceful fingers that could bring death, command lightning, and gesture with lazy aptitude. His pale face was hidden behind mast and hitai-ate, and, more than that Iruka thought, the shield of silver hair.

He'd spoken only in response to direct questions since leaving the Tower, and once here he'd not said anything. Tomorrow he would, by choice, be executed.

For the good of the village.

Iruka glanced again at the ANBU, standing perfectly still. It was silly for a chuunin to pretend he was keeping watch on Kakashi, the copy of the Copy Ninja. Especially with someone so much higher qualified also standing watching. But he couldn't bear to leave the man, either.

They'd been at the memorial stone for hours, watching the sun follow the arc it drew every day, every week, every month, every year. The arc this particular Kakashi would see only once more.

How did you offer comfort to a clone? Iruka would have rather just remained silent, but nothing was changing, nothing was getting better. Being afraid of saying the wrong thing didn't make silence a comfort. And he might say the right thing.

He shored up his bravery with that thought, and walked until he stood on Kakashi's sighted side. He couldn't even say that soon the man would be with his friends and family again--because he wasn't a man, and he wouldn't. He would just... vanish.

The jounin took a breath, slim ribs expanding. Without looking at Iruka, he spoke. "Nearly everyone I care about is here." He reached out, brushing fingertips over the worn stone, across a single name. Uchiha Obito.

Iruka glanced at the covered Sharingan eye. He didn't know how Kakashi had come to have a Sharingan. It wasn't widely spoken of. "Was he... a relation?"

The smile under the mask seemed humorless. "No. He was part of my genin team."

Iruka didn't look back at the stone, but kept his gaze trained on the man before him. "He must have been very special."

Kakashi snorted. "He was a brat. We did nothing but argue." His hand came away from the cool tablet, and lifted to brush over his hitai-ate. "I like to think we came to an understanding, just before he died." Then his expression clouded over. "Well. I suppose Hatake and he came to an understanding."

Hesitantly, Iruka reached out, putting a tentative hand on the black ninja basics that covered Kakashi's arm. "You're part of Hatake. You came to an understanding, too."

For the first time in hours, Kakashi turned to look at him. His single visible eye was inscrutable. "Is that your form of comfort? To tell me I actually experienced what I remember?" The tone wasn't angry, but curious.

Iruka pulled his hand back anyway. "I--"

"I suppose it isn't bad. It means I can pretend that the memories I have, the life I lived, were actually mine rather than figments of my imagination."

Iruka nodded slowly, keeping an eye on the other man. So far, he looked more thoughtful than annoyed. "Yeah," Iruka said, and hoped he hadn't just given a clone an idea that it was all right to remain, even if it damaged Hatake.

The thought of the clone dying, despite memories and having lived a life, gave his heart an odd twinge. He tried not to think about it too much.

"Well." Kakashi turned to look back at the memorial once more. "In that case, I'm going to miss everything."

Iruka looked at the stone as well, long habit pulling his eyes to his own parents' names. He walked a little ways away, kneeling to study them. "You won't miss it," he said, not sure if he was being comforting or not. "You'll still be around. Inside Hatake. Still alive, really."

The drawl was unmistakably unimpressed. "Somehow, I don't think it's quite the same thing." Kakashi stepped over, kneeling as well. His fingertips drifted over the names of Iruka's parents, much like they had the Uchiha boy. "Family?"

"My mother and father. They died during the Fox attack."

"Do you have anyone left?" It wasn't a question people normally asked. But then, these weren't normal circumstances.

Iruka turned to look at Kakashi's nearly hidden profile, and decided a man about to die should be given certain allowances. "I have an aunt and a cousin, still. My aunt raised me, and my cousin passed the academy only to be failed by his jounin sensei, so now he teaches self-defense to civilians." He hesitated, unsure if he should ask, and finally did. "You?"

Kakashi rocked back to sit down, linking his arms around his spread knees. "My mother died when I was a baby--chakra sickness. My father killed himself when I was a child." Iruka winced, and Kakashi glanced over. "He was the White Fang."

White Fang was before Iruka's time, but he was a teacher--history was engraved into his head. He nodded slowly. "Great ninja." Until he'd fallen.

Kakashi slanted him a look as if the jounin knew just what went unsaid. His tone, when he spoke, was bland. "Yes."

Iruka altered the subject slightly. "No other family?"

Slim shoulders rose and fell. "The Fourth was my jounin sensei. I'm the last of my genin team. Friends I made in ANBU--" he glanced toward the gargoyle in the shade, "--are gone now." Shoulders lifted and dropped again. "That's everyone."

There wasn't anything to say to that. Iruka fell silent. The silence wasn't oppressive, though, once broken. Kakashi's mind had eased, at least for the time being. The sun was shining and the air smelled like stone and grass and cherry blossoms. The breezes played, whisking around one moment and resting the next, caressing skin and fluffing hair.

Iruka took a breath and settled more comfortably, leaning against the monument. "Well, as your last night in Konoha--" or anywhere, "--what would you like to do?"

Kakashi glanced at him--taking the ANBU out of his field of sight, if not mind. "I'm guessing I'll spend the night in the ninja barracks. You don't have to baby-sit me anymore."

Iruka shook his head, smiling. "Not babysitting. Hanging out. It may come as a shock, but I kinda like you. I can think of worse ways to spend my evenings." It was with some surprise that he realized he meant it. He'd been attracted to the Kakashi he'd met the night he was drunk. Taken the man home and had alcohol-soaked sex, and liked that, too. He hadn't liked him the next morning, but...

But this man was just as attractive, and he was nice.

He broke the man's gaze and looked away, as if Kakashi could read his thoughts through his eyes. "I have some little money set aside for a rainy day." He glanced at the cloudless sky and smiled. "This seems rainy enough."

Kakshi's chuckle was warm. "Well, in that case... I do have something I'd like to try."

Iruka looked back at him, nodding easily. "Sure. What is it?"

**

"You've wanted to go bowling all your life?"

Kakashi beamed, a bowling ball perched in one palm. "I always thought it looked like fun." Mostly, there were no memories attached to it. Might as well make some new ones. Some that were just his. Not that he was going to share that with Iruka.

Iruka's expression since they'd walked into the bowling place was classic. That, he probably would share with Iruka.

He turned and stood at the edge of the wax-slick lane, eying the pins at the bottom. Carefully, he kneeled and set the ball on the ground, then gave it a little chakra-nudge.

It began to roll ponderously toward the end. Behind him, he heard Iruka laugh in defeat. "You're insane," the chuunin called.

Kakashi sat down and folded his legs. The ball continued to roll, veering ever so slowly to the left. Kakashi leaned to the right. The ball continued to the left. Kakashi lifted both hands and moved them right. The ball hit the gutter and fell in with an ignoble clunk. Kakashi let his ribcage collapse, falling forward until his forehead smacked the mock-wood. Behind him, Iruka laughed harder.

"Get out of the way," the chuunin said as Kakashi's ball clattered past the pins and into the machinery. "You're pathetic at bowling."

"You break my heart." Kakashi stood, shuffling away to give Iruka space. "I'm a gentle flower, and you wound me with your words." He watched as Iruka took three running steps and slung his ball out over the alley. It spun down the little ramp, sounding like low thunder, and crashed into half of the pins at the end.

Kakashi was more impressed by the way Iruka's pants tightened when he did that funny little bowling pose. Still, he managed to yank his gaze up before the other man turned around. "Your shot again," he said cheerfully, more than happy to keep watching the chuunin.

"You'd do better at this if you'd take some pointers," Iruka said, waiting for his ball to roll up the machine.

Kakashi smiled. "You offering to give me lessons?"

Dark eyes flicked up to his, and in a movement almost too fast to follow, they swept up and down Kakashi's body. Then Iruka's lids lowered and he picked up his ball as calmly as if he hadn't just been checking Kakashi out. "Sure, if you want."

Kakashi contemplated his chances, and finally decided it didn't matter what they were. He'd be no more tomorrow; he might as well try. "I'd listen to lessons, Iruka-sensei." When the man looked up, amused, Kakashi offered a cheerful grin.

"Well, in that case Kakashi-kun--" Kakashi barked a surprised laugh, and was rewarded by Iruka's quick smile, "--pay close attention. You stand so far back from the line. Three steps forward, swing, and release." He suited actions to words, and took down another respectable five pins.

Not that Kakashi was pin-counting. He was still eyeing Iruka's... form. "I think I need you to demonstrate again," he said innocently.

Iruka snorted, turning to face him, hands on his hips. "Nice try. Your turn."

His hands spread with his grin. "But, Iruka-sensei, it's the last request of a dying man."

"Right." Iruka walked up, grabbed Kakashi's mask, and tugged it down. "You're a much worse liar without that."

"I didn't lie! It's my last request, and I'm a dying man!" It was hard to be sad, though, while Iruka was giving him that knowing smirk.

The younger ninja picked up Kakashi's ball, marched over, and set it in Kakashi's hands. "Turn to face your alley."

Kakashi did so, one hand on his shoulder, the other on his ribs below the burns. He could feel body heat behind him, sense the movement of the other ninja and he was pushed and steered to the correct spot.

"Now, take your position."

"Why, sensei, so forward," he murmured. He could hear Iruka's sputtering laugh, feel breath on the back of his neck. He smiled, black cloth pooled around his throat.

"Now, step forward. Good, again. Good--don't hit me in the nuts with your backswing!"

Kakashi doubled over with laughter as Iruka jumped away, clutching his crotch as if he'd been struck. The Copy Ninja dropped his ball. It wobbled slowly away, crashed into the gutter, and kept rolling. "I can see," he wheezed, "how your technique really helps."

The ball stopped halfway down the lane.

"Buddha's eyeteeth," Iruka muttered.

Kakashi laughed even harder. "There's only one thing that's going to help me win now," he declared, turning and walking out of the bowling pit.

"What's that?" Iruka called.

"Alcohol."

"I don't think that'll improve your aim!"

Kakashi just kept walking, chuckling still. "I didn't mean for me," he said under his breath. A glance back showed him Iruka grabbing another ball and rolling it purposefully into the gutter, like an oversized game of pool. Knock one into the other...

They both stopped. From a distance, Iruka's dejected slump was still visible.

Cracking up, Kakashi made his way to the bar--he'd decided every bowling alley needed a bar to keep the patrons playing a game so futile--and leaned against the cherrywood. "Three beers. And send one," he turned and pointed to a corner where a now familiar masked man cloaked in darkness stood. "Over there."

"To... to the ANBU?" the bartender checked warily.

"The one and only." With a smile, Kakashi paid for the drinks and then took his two and headed back.

Iruka had managed to chakra-walk down the gutter, shove both balls along, and was on his way back when Kakashi returned.

"Very well done," Kakashi said dryly, handing one pint to the chuunin. He waited until he was sure Iruka was about to drink, then added in a bored tone, "I'm glad to see you can handle balls." Much to his delight, Iruka nearly spat beer halfway across the room.

Then dark eyes lit on him, glittering. "Too bad you weren't the one here a night earlier, or you'd know that already."

Kakashi paused, mind pondering the possibilities. Then he took a long drink, to the sound of Iruka's laughter.

**

In the end, he didn't get either of them drunk, and while he spent the evening flirting and making dry innuendo--which increased when he learned Iruka gave as good as he got--he realized he just didn't have the heart for sex. Funny, what you wanted on your last night alive. It wasn't what he'd expected.

They sat on the edge of Iruka's apartment building, ignoring the ANBU who lurked half a block away, swinging their legs out over the sleeping village.

"The boar," Kakashi continued, pointing to a constellation of stars. "Chasing his lady-love, the street-sweeper."

Iruka laughed, and it was like a balm for a burned man's soul. A strong arm pointed to another set of stars. "The Weeple-Wobbler, and--"

"Wait, wait, wait," Kakashi interrupted, shaking his head. "The what? That sounds made up. You're not even trying."

The look the chuunin turned on him was appalled. "Made up? I am not! Didn't you see the Weeple-Wobbler when you were a kid?"

Kakashi stared. Something in his expression must have been begging for more inanity, because Iruka continued in song-form, watching Kakashi as if he expected the man to chime in.

"Ohhhhhh, down by the valley where the hog-tree grows,
"Liiiives the Weeple-Wobbler!
"He plants his corn every year when it snows,
"Siiiiiilly Weeple-Wobbler!"

Kakashi's disbelief turned to horror. "Stop. You're making my mind bleed."

That only seemed to energize the younger man, who added arm gestures. "Come join in the fun with his merry band, they'll show you friendship and give you a hand, ooooooh the Weeple-Wobbler!"

In the silence that followed, Kakashi thought he could hear his sanity crack. "That was the most excruciating thing I've ever heard."

"It was my favorite show as a kid."

"And I bet you were the darling of every teacher, and wore your underwear pre-wedgied to save the other kids time."

Iruka cracked up, flopping back to lean on his elbows. "I was four. It was a show! They had muppets."

Kakashi nodded consideringly. "I think I'm beginning to see why we almost lost the Third Ninja War..." He earned a punch for his remark, and didn't try to dodge. Unmasked, his teeth caught the moonlight when he grinned.

"You are socially inept, you know that? Some genius. Doesn't even know the Weeple-Wobbler."

"Maybe I'm normal, and you plebeians were stunted by the Wobbler-Woobly."

"Weeple-Wobbler."

"Weepy-Wipsy?" He got hit again. It was worth it. He glanced down, looking at the chuunin stretched beside him under the early morning dark. Knowing he'd be dead soon made him brave. Or made him stupid. "You know, Iruka, if I were going to be alive a while longer, I think I'd like you. I'd probably stick around and make a nuisance of myself. Probably try to seduce you."

"You tried that earlier," Iruka cut in, with a lazy smile and closed eyes. "There was beer. Lousy attempt."

"Yes, well. I had impending death on my mind." It was funny, how it could turn into a joke.

"Excuses, excuses... if you were less of a genius, you wouldn't have thought of how to reverse the jutsu. You have no one but yourself to blame."

For a moment, Kakashi thought maybe that was a little much. Then he gave into the urge to laugh, enjoying the answering smile it tugged from Iruka. The man was stretched out, the moonlight dusting his features with ghostly white and pale blue. The scar across his nose was a bladeline, the curve of his jaw was flint. There was strength there, more than just how fast he could run or how many jutsu he could wield. There was a surety of purpose and spirit, and solidity and steadfastness that said no matter what happened, he would cope. He'd survived a great deal, and he'd survive the rest, too.

His eyes opened, dark pools under thick lashes and the black twin lines of brows. For a long moment he looked at Kakashi, and Kakashi wondered what he saw. Man, clone, jounin, fake. Then a hand reached up and out, landing comfortingly on his bicep. A rough thumb rubbed over soft cloth, smoothing a patch of skin under shirt.

"If you were going to be around longer," Iruka said quietly, "I think I'd like you, too. I might let you make a nuisance of yourself." He paused, considering. "I might even let you seduce me." A smile danced around his mouth, softening the strong planes of his face. "You'd have to be good, though, or I'd tell the kids you have a tiny hotdog, and they'd tell their parents, and next thing you know people in Mist would hear about your itty dick."

For a long moment, darkness and quiet reigned. Then Kakashi snickered. Snorted. And laughed. "I'll keep that in mind, Iruka-sensei."

Iruka grinned, but didn't move his hand away. As the laughter died down between them, the soothing motion of his thumb over Kakashi's arm and the steady whisper of their breathing was the only sign of life down the street.

"If I get reabsorbed into Hatake," Kakashi said slowly, "and my addition makes him less of an ass... would you consider seeing me again?"

"No." There wasn't even a moment's thought. "I'm sorry. He lost that right."

Part of him was disappointed but, much to his surprise, most of him wasn't. He nodded. "Will you go with me to see the Hokage tomorrow? You don't have to. I'll have an escort. But I wouldn't mind..." He wouldn't mind a friendly witness to his death. Everyone else thought of him as just a clone, but he didn't feel like a clone, and if anyone would understand that...

Iruka sat up beside him, hand sliding up over Kakashi's unburned shoulder and down his back, rubbing along the line of his spine. "I'd be honored to go with you tomorrow." He waited a beat, then added, "You shouldn't have to do this alone."

Something inside Kakashi uncoiled. He looked away, nodded once, and leaned into the warm body against him. It seemed like he'd gone through every other death alone; it was only fitting that he face this one by himself, too. But he didn't have to. He was dying: There was no longer a reason to be emotionless and strong, the perfect ninja. It was all right to let someone else in, for at least these last few hours.

He couldn't have chosen a better someone.

**