I Shall Not Want

A/N: There's a quite a bit about Shiko—you know, Iruka's ex?—in this chapter, just to warn those of you who loathe her. She's not coming back, or anything, don't worry. And the mission is finally starting, woohoo!

Warning: If the phrase 'stick a needle in my eye' makes you squeamish, there's a part of this chapter you won't enjoy much. It's just a medical procedure, though.

Buttons and beer for the betas, bronzetigress, stinky_horowitz and venusian_eye.

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Part 5: Departure and Delay


Iruka does not have a nice awakening. At three in the morning he is torn out of sleep when he senses intruders in the apartment. Kakashi isn't beside him; his side of the bed doesn't appear to have been slept in at all.

Sighing silently, Iruka creeps out of bed, kunai in hand, wondering what in the hell could possibly be going wrong now.

After about three seconds, he realizes that he can identify the chakra signatures of the intruders, and wonders why his danger sense is still firing. Then he hears a voice he recognizes, which is quickly shushed, and realizes the problem: civilians.

He lets out a very relieved breath, and puts away his knife. He and Kakashi have never had any civilians over before, and the chakra signature of a civilian is almost undetectable, like a chuunin who's chakra-masking. It's no wonder he was on alert.

Pulling on his uniform in the dark, he wonders why there are forty people in the house at three in the morning. He senses Suzume's signature, and a lot of other Academy teachers, and suddenly it makes more sense. It's probably a 'Farewell, don't die' party commemorating his leaving the Academy and his first mission as a tokubetsu jounin. This is the first chance they would have had to do it, and of course once he leaves for Suna there's no telling when he'll get back.

The bedroom light clicks on, and Kakashi peers in. “Ah, good, you're awake already.”

“Of course I'm awake.”

“Well, come on, then.”

Iruka sighs and follows him down the hall to the living room. People are mingling and murmuring to each other, trying to be quiet, but not trying to be silent. Ninja don't get surprise parties. For one thing, it's very difficult to surprise them, especially jounin. For another, if one actually did manage to surprise them, one's cry of “Surprise!” would most likely be cut off by a kunai to the throat.

“Okay, he's up,” Kakashi says, and everyone turns toward them. Iruka can't believe that so many people managed to squeeze themselves into his living room. He didn't think it was that big. When they spot Iruka, they start applauding—quietly, out of consideration for the neighbors, he supposes—and Iruka wants to roll his eyes. He hates this kind of crap.

Instead he smiles, and lets himself be pulled into the room, as everyone starts congratulating him on his promotion. The Academy teachers and a few parents, including November's, tell him how sorry they are to see him go. Some of them even seem to mean it. Suzume gives him a warm smile, which freaks him out a little.

Naruto and Sai are there as well, of course, but hardly any other jounin or ANBU. Kotetsu, also a new tokubetsu jounin, is the only one he knows outside of the field or the Academy. Izumo isn't present, so Iruka assumes he must have guard duty—he and Kotetsu are two of the Hokage's personal guard. Quite a step up from gate guard detail, Iruka thinks wryly, absently cuffing Naruto as he starts shrieking at Sai about something.

There's a lot of food piled on the coffee table and the kitchen table. It's mostly breakfast food, obviously brought over by the guests—it's in crockery he doesn't recognize, and Kakashi would never have put forth the effort to make food for that many people, especially in the middle of the night. Eventually, everyone stops fussing over Iruka and starts eating, to his relief. Iruka takes a seat on the couch between Sai and Yuuko, his ex-fiancée Shiko's mother. She's one of the few civilians there; the others are parents of his former students.

Yuuko hands him a plate of her homemade ohagi, and Iruka grins at her. “It's been a while since you made these for me, Yuuko-san,” he says, taking two off the plate and passing it along to Sai, who nods at Yuuko in acknowledgement before helping himself.

“And it'll be a while before I make them for you again,” Yuuko says, massaging her fingers and swollen knuckles.

“The arthritis getting worse?” Iruka inquires. He takes a bite of ohagi and chews it slowly, relishing the rich, chewy texture of the rice, and the way the almost-bitter taste of black sesame plays off the sweet bean paste.

“Oh, I don't want to start discussing my ailments, Iruka. That's for old people.”

Iruka smiles. Yuuko is a short, plump, pretty woman in her fifties, but she has the joint pains of an eighty-year-old. She's also a firm believer that drawing attention to the pain makes it worse, and Iruka agrees. He changes the subject. “How did you find out about my promotion?”

“I went to see you at the Academy last week. They said you were gone, and doing jounin training.” She frowns. “That must have made you quite unhappy, having to leave. You love teaching, and from all accounts you're quite good at it. It's not like there's a surplus of good teachers in the world, especially for ninjas, from what I can tell. I don't know what the Hokage's thinking.”

“I was very unhappy to leave, Yuuko-san, but it really couldn't be helped. In fact, I probably should have been promoted months ago.”

Yuuko nods sadly. Civilians may not be privy to the particulars of ninja affairs, but they are generally aware that there are not as many high-ranking ninja in Konoha as there used to be. “I was quite surprised when that man came to tell me about this,” she says, gesturing at everyone.

'That man' would be Kakashi. Yuuko, after a year and a half and many coaxing letters from Shiko, had finally managed to forgive Iruka for breaking her daughter's heart, and resumed a friendship with him—though her father Kazuya never has, and probably never will—but the entire Tatsumaki family detests Kakashi. Except for Shiko, oddly enough.

“I'm glad he did,” Iruka says sincerely. He hasn't seen Yuuko in quite a while, and he enjoys her company a lot. “Why were you looking for me at the Academy?”

“You haven't gotten Shiko's letter?”

“I haven't been home for a couple of weeks; I haven't had a chance to go through the mail.”

“Oh!” Yuuko puts a hand on top of his, beaming at him. “Then I get to tell you the good news!”

“I could definitely use some good news,” Iruka says, putting his other hand very gently on top of hers. Her bones stick out, giving her hand a bird-fragile feel.

“Shiko's engaged!” Yuuko laughs happily, and Iruka can see Shiko in her smile.

“That's wonderful!” Iruka exclaims, and he means it. “Is it that veterinarian she was seeing?”

Yuuko nods. “She sent us pictures, and said she'd sent them to you too. Wait 'til you see him; he's so handsome! She looks just beautiful with him. The wedding's in three months.” Her expression sobers. “It would mean a lot to her if you would go, Iruka.”

“Yuuko-san...I don't think that's going to be possible,” Iruka says, softly. “I will if I can, but...”

“I know, I know,” Yuuko sighs. “Ninja don't take vacations. It's no wonder you're all barking mad.”

Iruka laughs. “I don't think Kazuya-san would be very happy if I showed up, anyway,” he muses, still smiling.

“I don't give a rat's ass if he's happy or not; it's not about what he wants.” Yuuko bites her lip, hesitating. “Although...I don't think you should bring that man with you, if you go. She says she wants you to, but I just don't think...” She trails off.

“Don't worry, Yuuko-san. Kakashi wouldn't go even if everyone wanted him there.” Ordinarily, Kakashi would love to be in a place where people openly despise him—he finds it amusing—but he doesn't like to be reminded of Shiko at all. He doesn't like it that she and Iruka are still friends, even though it's long-distance. Every time Iruka gets a letter from her, he can count on Kakashi quietly brooding for at least a day. Iruka doesn't bother to tell him about the letters he gets while Kakashi's on a mission, and Kakashi never asks. When Iruka has a mission, he has the post hold his mail, to protect it from any 'accidental' fire jutsu.

It makes Iruka feel awfully warm and fuzzy inside that Kakashi actually sought out Shiko's mother to let her know about this ungodly early get-together. Iruka was sure that Kakashi had repressed the knowledge that Iruka and Yuuko were friends.

He chats with Yuuko for several more minutes, the conversation light, until she cites the need to go home and get some more sleep. He sees her to the door, kissing her lightly on the cheek, and ends up standing there for a half an hour as people take the opportunity of having him by the door to make their exit. When Iruka finally gets the chance to sit back down, there are only twelve people left in the room, and it feels much more comfortable.

Kotetsu hands Iruka a plate of salmon, rice, and pickled radish as he sits down next to him on the couch. “I noticed you hadn't gotten much to eat, so I saved you some food. Gotta fuel up.”

Iruka hadn't even noticed how fast the food was going. Even at three in the morning, ninja eat like vacuum cleaners. There is little left on the tables. He takes the plate gratefully. “Thanks, Kotetsu.”

Another hour passes in easy, relaxed conversation and leisurely feeding, before it's four-thirty and time to prepare for the mission. Iruka and Kakashi kick the stragglers out, enlisting Naruto and Sai to help them get their apartment cleaned and ready for what could be a long absence. When everything's picked up, his former students take off to get ready to meet them at the gate.

He and Kakashi would usually have packed the night before, but Iruka hasn't been awake and Kakashi, apparently, hasn't been home. They grab their packs and shove their ANBU gear into the very bottoms before piling everything else they'll need on top. They don't talk. Iruka can tell Kakashi's already in mission mode—not ANBU mode, but jounin mode. Iruka's there too, now, so it doesn't bother him. The silence as they finish preparing feels natural.

They step outside, and Kakashi sets up the wards. As Iruka steps forward to lock the door, Kakashi surprises him by stepping up behind him and slipping his arms around Iruka's waist, resting his chin on Iruka's shoulder. “I love you so much, baby,” he murmurs, and Iruka knows from the way he says the endearment that his partner is troubled. “I don't want you to ever forget that, no matter what I might say or do.”

Iruka finishes locking the door and turns around in Kakashi's arms, slipping his own around his partner's neck. “I won't. You'll do what you have to do, and so will I.” He kisses the cloth over Kakashi's lips. “And I love you, too.”

Kakashi nods, and releases him. “Let's go.” He leaps up onto the roof of the building across from theirs, toward the village gate, and Iruka follows close on his heels.

It's well past sunset when Kakashi finally calls a halt to their progress, and Iruka drops gratefully down from the forest canopy. There's only a sliver of moon, and it always takes more effort to skim through the boughs in the dark by hearing and touch, especially at the breakneck pace they've been traveling. Even Guy wouldn't have been able to complain about their speed. At this rate, they'll reach Suna well ahead of schedule, unless they are held up by the Iwa army.

They're hoping to circumvent the front lines by taking an underground route, through some caves under the hot sand that are too treacherous to be used as a supply line, and too labyrinthine to navigate without aid. Kakashi has taken the route before, and Gaara has sent along a map just in case. It's unlikely Iwa is holding the passage, even assuming they could locate it. There are many such caves in the limestone under the desert, enough that randomly searching them to find out which ones might possibly lead into Sunagakure would be a huge waste of time and manpower. As long as their team isn't spotted, everything should be fine.

Iruka spends a few minutes stretching out his leg muscles before helping the others gather firewood. Sai unfurls a scroll and inks a strangely smiling bird-like creature on it, while Kakashi casts a jutsu on the fuel and tinder to make it smokeless and odorless. When the fire is going strong enough to provide light, Sai's bird leaves the scroll, its size increasing enormously, and furls its wings around their campsite. Their night-dark 'tent' is probably not necessary this far inside Fire Country's borders, but 'probably' is not good enough odds for a ninja.

After Iruka sets up some alarm traps and casts a soundproofing jutsu, they start setting up their sleeping pads, and Naruto—inevitably—starts chattering. They've been traveling too hard for conversation, almost seventeen hours with few breaks, barely stopping long enough to scarf down ration bars. The Jinchuuriki can be quiet when he needs to be, but if he doesn't need to be, he usually isn't.

“--so I don't get why you call him Iruka-san, but you don't put a suffix on Kakashi,” Naruto is saying to Sai when Iruka tunes in, after they've got their sleeping pads unrolled in the grass around the firepit. “Kakashi's older and more senior, right? So—”

“You call him Iruka-sensei, but do not put a suffix on Kakashi,” Sai points out reasonably.

Naruto splutters a little. “That's because Iruka's been Iruka-sensei since I was really little,” he finally says. “But anyway, we're not talking about me.”

Sai raises a brow. “Oh? I thought we were. You started off this conversation by saying—”

“I know what I said; I was there, okay? Jeez. What do you think, Iruka se—uh, Iruka...?” Naruto scowls in frustration. “Damn it, this is going to be harder than I thought.”

Iruka remembers Kakashi mentioning something about trying to get Naruto to stop calling Iruka 'Sensei', and smiles. “You can call me Iruka-sensei,” he says. “I don't mind.”

“I didn't think you would,” Naruto says, throwing a handful of grass in Kakashi's direction. “Kakashi's an idiot.”

Without looking up from his book, Kakashi flips his middle finger at the blond.

“No, he isn't,” Iruka contradicts, then reconsiders. “Well, not about this, anyway.” The middle finger swerves in his direction, and he chuckles softly. “It's a little painful to be called Sensei. But it's hardly noticeable when set against all of my other concerns, like this mission. There's no point in making it an issue.”

Naruto looks doubtful. “Are you sure? Because if I can drop the -sensei from Kakashi, I can drop it from Iruka. It'll just take a little time.”

Iruka scoots over a little so he can reach Naruto, and punches him in the arm. “Don't worry about it. Focus on your mission.”

“If you say so,” grumbles Naruto, making a show of rubbing his arm. “But anyway, Sai, you never answered my question. Why do you use an honorific for Iruka and not Kakashi?”

“To be honest, I am not sure,” Sai admits. “I think it started in response to Iruka-san's politeness and formality when we were first acquainted. 'Iruka-san' just seems to suit him. It is not my intention to keep you at a distance, Iruka-san,” Sai says, turning to Iruka.

Iruka has his doubts about that, but smiles warmly and waves him off. “I don't mind it, Sai.”

“So...no suffix suits Kakashi?” Naruto asks.

Sai screws his face up in quite a fair imitation of Naruto trying to figure something out. Probably practice for his impersonation, Iruka realizes, amused. “Hmm...what would suit Kakashi...” His eyes pop open. “Kakashi-chin.”

Kakashi's book slaps closed. “Bedtime, brats. Cut the chatter and sleep. Now.”

“Yes sir, Kakashi-chin, sir,” Sai says, with a crisp salute, as Naruto dissolves into laughter.

Kakashi pulls on one of his colder, more frightening smiles, made that much creepier because his mask is down and they can actually see his mouth. Naruto's laughter dies in his throat. “Whoever doesn't want to wake up tomorrow with his intestines wrapped around his head like a turban should shut up and sleep. And never call me that again, Sai.”

“I should not call you sir?” Sai says, and Iruka feels an uncomfortable coldness threading through his stomach. Sai hasn't quite learned how far is too far to take a joke; even Naruto has a better sense of Kakashi's limits. Iruka knows from experience that Kakashi's sense of humor takes a nosedive when on a mission, and he really doesn't want things to get ugly already. They'll get enough ugliness later.

Apparently, Kakashi agrees with that sentiment, because he drops the eerie smile and pouts at Iruka. “You see what I have to put up with? I get no respect at all.”

Feeling enormously relieved, Iruka grins. “I respect certain parts of you a great deal,” he says, lasciviously running his tongue along his lower lip.

It has the intended effect. “Right!” Naruto says, looking very disturbed, and scrambles to bed down on his sleeping roll. “Sleep! And you two,” he says, pointing first at Iruka and then Kakashi, “better just sleep where you are. I don't need to hear you guys...doing...stuff,” he finishes with a shudder.

“No stuff,” Iruka promises. Even if he and Kakashi had been alone, Iruka's not a proponent of mission sex, anyway.

Sai is already down with his eyes closed, and after casting a few suspicious glances at Kakashi and Iruka, Naruto settles down as well. Iruka knows he should go to sleep—he has second watch in an hour, and after that he only gets two more hours to sleep before they're off and running again—but he's wide awake. If he lies down he'll just get more restless.

He and Kakashi stare at each other over the waning fire for a while, before Kakashi murmurs, “You know that even if you don't sleep, laying down and resting gives you some of the same benefits.”

Iruka sighs. “Yes, I know.”

Kakashi pats the place beside him. Iruka gets up silently and skirts the fire, sitting down next to his partner. They sit like that for a while, watching the fire, not touching or talking.

“You worried?” Kakashi eventually says.

Iruka's brows draw together as he thinks. “Not really. I'm anxious to know what we're going to be dealing with.”

“Mm,” Kakashi replies, nodding.

Iruka hesitates, then asks, “Are you worried?”

“A little,” his partner admits.

“Mm,” Iruka replies.

“It won't matter when we're closer to Suna. I'll be in the zone, then.”

Iruka nods. His eyelids are finally starting to droop.

He feels a feather-light kiss on his brow. “Go to bed; you've still got half an hour,” Kakashi whispers.

Iruka turns his head quickly and catches Kakashi's lips with his own for a moment, then moves back to his place across the fire from his partner. He's asleep before he even finishes lying down.

By the middle of the following day, Iruka is getting worried, at least about Kakashi. His partner is moving as easily as usual, but the set of his shoulders has become more and more tense as the day wears on. Iruka knows what that means.

He speeds past Naruto and Sai to catch up with Kakashi. Pulling alongside him, he murmurs, “The Sharingan?”

Kakashi nods, ducking under an overhanging limb and leaping to the next branch on all fours, like one of his ninken. Iruka notices that the fabric of his hitai-ate is darker under the Sharingan eye, a tinge of red beginning to seep onto his cheek.

“We have to stop,” Iruka says firmly.

“Damn it,” Kakashi mutters, and holds his hand up to signal to the others to stop and descend.

Once they're on the ground, Kakashi silently removes his hitai-ate. Blood immediately spills from the Sharingan down his cheek.

“Shit,” Naruto says, and takes the headband without further comment, heading toward the stream they've been following for the past couple of hours. Sai is already laying down a folded blanket for Kakashi to lay his head on. Both of them are familiar with this routine.

Kakashi lies down with his head on the blanket as Iruka opens his medkit and grabs one of the prepared syringes he and Kakashi always keep on hand. Naruto returns with the washed hitai-ate and a damp cloth, handing the latter to Iruka, who uses it to wipe the worst of the blood from Kakashi's face so he can see what he's doing. Kakashi hisses in pain as Iruka thumbs his left eyelid open, a sure sign that he's beyond agony at this point. The three-bladed pupil of the Mangekyou Sharingan swirls lazily up at Iruka, as more blood spills down the side of Kakashi's head. Without further ado, Iruka slides the needle of the syringe into the center of the pupil and depresses the plunger.

For a few moments, nothing happens. Just as Iruka is starting to get anxious—this takes longer and longer every time they do it—the Sharingan comes to a stop, and the pupil shrinks back to the shape of three tomoe around a circle. The bleeding slows and finally stops, and Iruka allows Kakashi to close his eye. He takes the damp hitai-ate from Naruto and lays it over the eye, handing off the bloodied cloth to be washed. Sai leaps into the trees in a watch position, and Iruka settles next to Kakashi to wait.

When Kakashi fought Pain two and a half years ago, he irreparably damaged the chakra pathways connecting to his Sharingan. Tsunade was able to heal them enough that he could still use the eye in times of need, but warned him against relying on it. Under no circumstances was he to use the Mangekyou Sharingan. Not only was there the danger of the eye going completely blind, but the damaged pathways now ate up his chakra at an alarming rate, which more than tripled if the Mangekyou was activated.

For once, Kakashi heeded her advice, and didn't use the Mangekyou at all for well over a year. But when he fought Tobi in the battle at Amegakure, he saw a chance to defeat him that required it. Kakashi being Kakashi, he used the opening without hesitation, and in killing Tobi, almost killed himself.

Iruka wonders sometimes if that wasn't his intention, some kind of penance. He's never asked; he doesn't really want to know the answer.

Tsunade and Sakura were able to pull Kakashi back from the void once again, but the Sharingan began malfunctioning more frequently than before. Using it only briefly caused Kakashi immense, sickening headaches. Worse, the Mangekyou sometimes randomly activated, even when the eye was covered. Strangely enough, the Sharingan's chakra consumption became lower than it had been before Pain, so the danger of chakra burnout was not as great. This made the eye somewhat less effective, but usable if Kakashi could stand the discomfort. However, once the Mangekyou activated, Kakashi could no longer suppress it on his own.

Iruka had wanted Kakashi to get the Sharingan eye removed, but Kakashi vehemently resisted the notion. In the end, Tsunade convinced Iruka that removing the eye was their very last resort. Because of the way the Sharingan had integrated with Kakashi's body over the years he'd had it, and the way his body chemistry had adapted to the foreign influence, Tsunade felt that removing the eye might be even more dangerous to Kakashi than leaving it in. The eye's relationship with Kakashi's body appeared to be more symbiotic—as it would be for an Uchiha—than parasitic. But unlike an Uchiha, Tsunade was concerned that the removal of the Sharingan would kill Kakashi, either directly from shock or from other complications that Iruka didn't fully understand.

Kakashi'd had to stay in the hospital for months as Tsunade labored to find a way to deactivate the Mangekyou that didn't require a team of medics. She finally hit upon a formula that worked, but it had two drawbacks. One, it had to be injected directly into the eye, and two, it required Kakashi to lie on his back without moving for a minimum of two hours.

The first drawback wasn't really a hindrance for Kakashi; he could do the injection himself if he had to. The second, however, would have required Tsunade to pull him from active duty if the Mangekyou activated often enough. It happened, on average, about once a month. Often enough to be a concern, but not often enough—in their current climate, at least—for the Hokage to pull Kakashi off the field.

Even so, Tsunade would never have put Kakashi back in ANBU if special ops hadn't been in desperate need of his experience and leadership. Kakashi's re-appointment as an ANBU captain had been probationary for the first six months. In that time, the Mangekyou had only activated once while he was in the thick of a mission. Kakashi had conducted himself in such an exemplary manner that he'd been taken off probation, but the danger still lingered.

Kakashi's hands are clenching and unclenching, and Iruka can see little tremors running through his frame. Whether it's pain or restlessness, the treatment is the same—he has to be prevented from moving. “Do you need a sedative?” Iruka asks. It's pretty clear that he does, but Iruka doesn't ever shoot his partner up without at least asking.

Kakashi exhales sharply in frustration, and doesn't answer for several moments. Just when Iruka is about to get the Dilaudid and inject him whether he likes it or not, he says, “Yeah. But make sure I'm up in exactly two hours.”

That means Iruka will have to give Kakashi an adrenaline shot, which he doesn't like doing, but he doesn't argue. Quite frankly, he's not any happier about having to stop for this long than Kakashi is.

As he's getting the syringe, Iruka notices Kakashi's hands forming seals in his peripheral vision. Kakashi slaps the ground next to himself, holding his torso and head carefully still. A second later, Uuhei and Pakkun are sitting next to him. Uuhei sniffs at his face, whines and paws his arm gently.

“That damn eye's going to kill you one of these days, boss,” Pakkun growls.

“Don't say things like that!” Uuhei hisses. “You'll jinx him!”

“I don't doubt it, Pakkun,” Kakashi replies. “And I've been jinxed since the day I was born. Set up a perimeter, you two.”

Iruka leans over and scratches Uuhei behind the ears, just under her bandages. “Kakashi won't die today, at least, Uuhei-chan.”

Uuhei turns her head to lick his hand, then she and Pakkun take off to start their patrol. Iruka's grateful for them; this way they can all rest a little. If they have to stop, it might as well be beneficial.

He flicks the syringe with his finger a few times and depresses the plunger a little to get out the air bubbles, then presses his fingertips on the inside of Kakashi's arm, feeling for a vein he can use. It's not hard to find one; he doesn't even have to tie off his partner's arm. Kakashi's veins are like a roadmap under Iruka's fingers, just below his milk-pale skin, winding around his scrappy muscles.

After Iruka makes the injection, he tucks away the used syringe in a compartment in his medkit, and looks around. Sai is still in the tree, perched in a squat on his toes, head slowly swiveling like a radar as he scans the surroundings with his senses and his chakra. He's probably set up a few ink sentinels as well. Naruto is standing a little distance off, looking down at the ground, frowning.

Raising a brow, Iruka stands up and walks over to the Jinchuuriki. “Everything okay, Naruto?”

The blond shakes his head. “No, it isn't. Pakkun's right; that eye is going to kill him one day. Even Sasuke is having trouble with his Sharingan, and he isn't...” He trails off.

“Well,” Iruka says, turning to head back to his partner, “if you have any suggestions, I'm all ears.”

Naruto trails after him, sitting next to him as he checks Kakashi's vitals. “It's not something I can do anything about,” the blond says after a moment. “I hate that.”

“And how do you think I feel?” Iruka says gently, not looking at him. He runs his fingers lightly down Kakashi's forearm. “Seeing this happen over and over again, wondering if Tsunade's medicine will stop working one day, and the Mangekyou will eat his chakra until he's dead. It doesn't get easier.”

“I know, Iruka-sensei. But when I'm Hokage, everyone in Konoha will be my responsibility. It just...I always thought I'd know how to solve any problem by then, you know?” He sighs. “If I can't take care of the people I really care about, then—”

His sentence chokes off as Iruka slips an arm around his shoulders and yanks him into an abrupt headlock. “Idiot,” Iruka says affectionately into his spiky hair. “If you're going to be a fair, just and equitable Hokage—which I assume is part of your plan—you're going to have to learn not to take everything that afflicts your close friends so personally. Or are you planning on giving your friends special considerations and privileges? Because if you're going to get this mopey every time something happens to anyone in Konoha, you won't have time to do anything else.”

Naruto shoves him away without rancor. “What am I supposed to do, just not care?”

“Of course you're going to care. But there's something I learned when I was overseas, about the only thing over there that was real wisdom, that applies here. I don't think I've told it to you before. Would you like to hear it?”

“As long as you don't expect me to memorize it and write an essay on it,” Naruto grumbles.

Iruka snorts. “Haven't you heard? I don't teach anymore. Just listen. It's called 'The Serenity Prayer.'

“A prayer?”

“It goes, 'God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom always to know the difference'.”

He waits patiently as Naruto digests this. The blond's forehead creases heavily.

“Which god is supposed to grant all this?” he asks after a moment.

Iruka rolls his eyes. “They only had one god over there. It doesn't matter about the god. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?”

The blond frowns. “But people have always told me there are things I can't change that I end up changing anyway. Like Neji, remember how he was always talking about fate?”

“You knew that he was wrong, didn't you? It doesn't matter what people tell you. You're good about knowing what you can change, Naruto. It's accepting what you can't that you're not so good at.”

“You accept too much, Iruka-sensei,” Naruto says quietly.

Iruka is taken aback for a moment. “What do you mean, Naruto?” he asks.

The blond shakes his head. “Nothing, never mind. Hey, I found an envelope from that Shiko person in your bag. It feels like it's got pictures in it. Do I finally get to see what she looks like?”

Iruka's heart stops for a second. “What were you doing going through my bag?” he snaps.

Naruto's eyes widen. “Um, I was getting a cloth for Kakashi. I forgot to pack any and you didn't like it when I used my clothes—”

“I didn't like it when you tried to use your dirty socks to clean my boyfriend's face,” Iruka corrects. His heart has started again; he doesn't think Naruto got down to his ANBU gear. If he had...well, Naruto's better at hiding things than he was a few years ago, but he's not that good. He'd have something to say. Iruka's not sure what, but something. “Just don't do that again, okay?”

“Is there something I'm not supposed to see?” Naruto asks suspiciously.

“Maybe there is,” Iruka retorts. “Does that entitle you to violate my privacy? Especially when I'm asking you not to?”

The blond drops his eyes. “No,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I'll stay out of your bag, Iruka-sensei.”

“Good. Thank you.”

Naruto chuckles and shakes his head. “Even though I'm almost nineteen now, all I have to do is annoy you and it's like I'm eight years old again.”

“Hmph. Say that when you're in your thirties, and I'll feel accomplished.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes. “Was the letter what I wasn't supposed to see?” Naruto asks finally.

Iruka looks over at him, puzzled. “Hm? I don't care about that...why would you think it was?”

“Well...” Naruto picks at the grass, not looking at him. “You said you were engaged to that Shiko while I was off with ero-sennin, right? And Kakashi doesn't like it that you still write to her...”

Iruka's mouth splits in a wide grin. “What, you think we're having a torrid affair through the mail?”

Naruto looks up at him, scowling. “Well, if you're not, then why do you still write her? I mean, when you break up with someone, you go your separate ways, don't you?”

Iruka's not about to go into the real reasons, which have to do with the way Kakashi ripped him and Shiko apart and destroyed Iruka's life. Iruka only cares that Kakashi helped him rebuild it, and that Shiko forgives them both. All Naruto knows about the entire situation is that Iruka was briefly engaged to a woman, but ended up with Kakashi. That's all he wants Naruto to know.

Iruka shrugs. “We're friends. You can't let your significant other dictate who your friends are. Besides, she's hundreds of miles away. Even if there was a chance of anything sordid going on—which there isn't—it would be impossible. I'd think you'd know by now that I'm a lot more practical than that,” he chastises.

“It's because you're practical that I wonder about it,” Naruto mumbles.

“Well, you don't have to wonder. I think it's great that you're looking out for Kakashi, in any case, but you don't have to worry about my fidelity. I'm not stupid enough to intentionally jeopardize what I have with Kakashi. We get quite enough jeopardy in our lives without creating more on the side.”

“I'm looking out for you, too, you know,” Naruto replies. “Kakashi's good for you. I didn't think he would be, but he is. I mean, you'd be good for anyone, Iruka-sensei, but...it's like Kakashi's a big piece of chocolate cake, and you're vegetables.”

Iruka's eye twitches. Naruto notoriously despises vegetables. “And to think I was almost feeling complimented for a second.”

Naruto scratches the back of his head, laughing uncertainly. “That didn't really come out right. All I mean is that cake isn't good for everyone, but vegetables are—according to everyone else, anyway—and cake can make you really sick if you have too much, but everyone apparently needs vegetables and...” He trails off as Iruka starts laughing in earnest. “I still don't have the hang of metaphors, do I,” he says wryly.

“Not so much,” Iruka admits, still chuckling. “I'm pretty sure I know what you're trying to say, though.”

“At least one of us does, then.”

Iruka gets up and walks over to his pack, flipping back the top and rooting around until he finds Shiko's unopened letter. He walks back over to Naruto and Kakashi, and sits down near his unconscious partner's head. “Let's see,” he murmurs, slitting the letter open with a shuriken. He pulls out a thin stack of pictures, and inspects the one on top.

Shiko's glossy black hair is longer, but otherwise she looks just the same, just as pretty and vibrant as ever. She's standing in front of an azalea bush, holding hands with—to Iruka's eyes—a very plain, ordinary-looking man. No scars, no markings, no distinctive features at all, just carefully blow-dried short brown hair and a slightly pudgy face. Iruka can tell from his build that he's going to be packing on extra weight soon, if he doesn't take up a training regimen.

It occurs to him that he's evaluating the poor guy as though Shiko's going to go on missions with him, not marry him. He shakes his head. Shiko's beaming at the camera, and her veterinarian fiancé is gazing at her as though he can't believe his luck, which is as it should be. They both look happy, and Iruka supposes that's what matters.

He senses Naruto leaning in to look over his shoulder. “Is that Shiko?!” Naruto cries.

Iruka raises a brow, taking that picture off the top of the stack and handing it to the blond. “That's Shiko.”

Naruto snatches the picture and stares at it like he's trying to incinerate it with his mind. “But she's so cute, Sensei! She's almost as cute as Haku!”

Iruka hides his grin. It never fails to amuse him that Naruto's epitome of cute femininity was actually a boy. “What, you think she's too cute for me?”

The Jinchuuriki backhands him across the bicep. “That's not what I mean! I mean, I mean why would you dump such a cute girl to go out with a guy? I mean, Kakashi's great, but he's not cute at all.”

“That depends on your definition of cute.”

“Eh?” Naruto looks up from the picture to squint at him. “Isn't there only one definition?”

Iruka sighs. “Never mind. Let's just say that cuteness or lack thereof was not my primary concern.”

“Neither was the fact that Kakashi's not a girl, apparently.”

Iruka shakes his head, looking down at the next picture in the stack, which is of Shiko and her beau walking a handsome pair of rottweilers. “Haven't we had this discussion before?”

“Yeah, but that was before I knew you were engaged to a really hot chick.”

Iruka hears a whisper-soft thump as Sai lands directly behind them. “Is that what that is? A hot chick?” he says, squatting down to look at the picture Naruto's holding.

“Yeah!” Naruto waves the picture in front of Sai's face. “Iruka-sensei gave her up to go out with a dirty old man, can you believe—ow!” Naruto yips as Iruka kicks him sharply in the shin.

Sai takes the picture and looks it over, contemplative. “I suppose she's not totally ugly.”

Naruto gapes at him, then snatches the photo back. “You're so weird.”

“Who is that holding her hand in the picture, Iruka-san?” Sai asks.

Reading the back of the rottweiler picture, Iruka answers, “His name is Kenji. They're engaged.”

“No way!” Naruto yells. “She could do way better than that!”

“He really is nowhere near as handsome as you, Iruka-san,” Sai says.

“Yeah!” Naruto agrees enthusiastically. Then he frowns. “Um...I guess.”

“You two aren't really that shallow, are you?” Iruka asks.

“No,” Naruto grumbles.

“Yes,” Sai says, beaming, and dodges Naruto's fist.

Iruka tunes them out as they start bickering. Well, Naruto bickers, and Sai gives polite responses carefully designed to drive the Jinchuuriki up the wall. He cards through the rest of the pictures, all of Shiko and Kenji and a dizzying array of animals that he hopes don't all belong to them. Not unless Kenji's very, very wealthy and owns a lot of land. And the proper animal permits, he amends, as he flips to the last picture, which shows Kenji rolling around in the grass with a big pink rubber ball and a pair of adolescent tigers.

Iruka sighs, and takes back the first picture from an oblivious Naruto, who is now extolling the virtues of giant breasts to an obviously indifferent Sai. He adds it to the stack and puts the pictures back in the envelope. Fishing out the letter, he unfolds it and begins reading.

He notices halfway through Shiko's gushing description of the wedding plans—the two tigers are going to be ringbearers, apparently—that he's absently running a hand through Kakashi's hair, gently, as though his partner is an ailing child. He forces himself to stop. Setting the letter down, he lifts Kakashi's hitai-ate off his face, and thumbs open the lid of the Sharingan. Kakashi's sclera is still tinged red from the bleeding, but the Sharingan is still and looks normal.

Iruka lets the eye close and replaces the headband. He supposes it's lucky that this happened now, while they are still on the way to their destination. It's unlikely that this will happen again for at least three or four weeks, and if they remain lucky, they'll be finished with their assignment by then.

“Is everything alright, Iruka-san?” Sai asks. Naruto pauses mid-rant to look over at Kakashi.

“Relatively,” Iruka answers, smiling at them.

Sai reaches into his hip pouch and pulls out a worn deck of cards. “Perhaps a few hands of poker will pass the time?” he suggests.

“Deal me in, I'm just going to finish this letter real quick.”

“Do we have to use that deck?” Naruto complains, eyeing the cards with distaste as Sai begins dealing them out. Iruka notices with amusement that the backs of the cards feature strapping young men hanging out together in various stages of undress, with a lot of props.

Sai shrugs. “This is the only deck I have. I found it on my last mission. If you have a different deck...”

“Just deal, Sai,” Naruto grumbles.

Sai beams. “I should say that to you as well, Naruto.”

Iruka grins as he picks Shiko's letter up and skims through the rest of it. It's really a lovely afternoon, the pall cast by Kakashi's Sharingan notwithstanding. He knows these are likely to be the last relaxing moments they will experience for a long time, and he's determined to enjoy them as much as possible.

He brushes his knuckles gently against his knocked-out partner's cheek. Then he folds Shiko's letter and tucks it in his pocket, and scoots forward, picking up his hand of homoerotic playing cards to join in the game with his comrades.