Into the Fire

Chapter Fifty

Ibiki walked the copy-nin to the gates, pulling him into his arms and kissing him passionately, tongue diving into his mouth for one last taste of his beloved’s sweetness before they parted. “Stay safe . . . I swear I’ll see you soon.” he muttered, diving back in to explore the delectable mouth yet again.

“I hope so.” Kakashi mumbled back, returning the kiss just as eagerly, “I don’t want to leave you.”

Eventually they reluctantly separated, Ibiki watching after the departing copy-nin until long after he’d passed out of sight, before finally turning back toward the village. The interrogator wasted no time, rapidly forming the hand signs to move him to the tower.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he bellowed angrily as soon as he barged into the Hokage’s office, “Were you just going to let him leave?”

“What are you talking about?” Iruka snapped back, in no mood to play twenty questions with the angry interrogator.

“Kakashi . . . who do you think I’m talking about?” the scarred man bellowed furiously, “He just left, and he isn’t planning on coming back. Is this how you protect your shinobi? Because you’re doing a shitty job.”

“Stop right there.” Genma growled warningly from the shadows, “You have no reason to threaten him.”

“What happened?” the Rokudaime asked in confusion, “Where did Kakashi go . . . he didn’t request permission to leave.”

“Of course not.” Ibiki grumbled, “He wanted you to be able to deny knowledge of his whereabouts.”

“To who?” Genma asked, puzzled.

“The Mizukage.” growled the angry interrogator, “Kakashi’s husband.”

“His what?” the honey-haired man gasped in surprise, “He’s married?”

“Not exactly . . . Sandaime sold him to the Mizukage as a concubine when he was fifteen, under the condition that he be allowed to return and serve Konoha. But I told him not to worry about it.” Iruka continued in a rush, “I had no intention of upholding such a ridiculous contract. I would never have expected him to go through with it.”

“He wasn’t willing to put the village at risk.” the scarred man explained with a sigh, “He left in hopes of maintaining the peace between Fire and Mist. As usual, he was more concerned about other people than himself. You need to find a way out of this.” Ibiki insisted frantically, “I’m not ready for him to walk out of my life forever.”

“I’ll think of something.” the Rokudaime muttered, “Do you have any clue where he’s gone?”

“Yes.” the scarred man replied shortly, “But I promised not to tell you. Kakashi seemed certain the Mizukage would react badly if he failed to show up. He feared the village might go to war if you tried to give him shelter.”

“Let me send an envoy to Mist . . . I’ll see if I can work this out.” Iruka promised, nibbling his lip as he cast his mind in search of the perfect person for the job. “Go do something . . . I’ll let you know when you can collect him.”

“Please find a way to fix this . . . or I’ll go after him anyway.” the interrogator warned, “I really don’t think you want me in the Bingo Book.”

“Or Hatake.” Genma added with a nervous bark of laughter, “Just think how much space it would take just to list all his jutsu.”

“No one is turning rogue.” the Hokage snapped, “Go to work Ibiki . . . stop back later and I’ll fill you in on what I’m going to do, I need to talk to a few people first.”

The tall man glared at the former teacher before stalking out of the office, people scuttling out of his way, wary of the killing intent almost visibly boiling off the generally stoic interrogator. “Boss,” his aide asked warily through a crack in the door, “I have some . . .”

“No.” the scarred man declared coldly, and the door instantly snapped shut, leaving him alone to contemplate the many ways to kill a Kage.

Kakashi made good time, arriving at his destination early the next morning. “Otokage-sama.” he greeted Itachi deferentially, bowing deeply even though he knew the man couldn’t see the gesture, “I appreciate your offer of refuge. I promise not to draw the attentions of Mist here . . . I will move on long before then.”

“Don’t be ridiculous sempai.” the Uchiha replied imperiously, “You’re Otokage again now that you’re back. Wage your own war for your freedom.”

“I will do no such thing . . . what a petty reason to risk so many lives.” the copy-nin replied in shock.

“Orochimaru-sama was right . . . you are unique.” Itachi declared, pursing his lips as unseeing eyes focused unerringly on Kakashi’s face. “I can’t imagine putting the well being of others before my own.”

“Never the less,” the copy-nin responded decisively, “it is my guiding principle, and I will not abandon it at this late date. I’ll stay here for a few months and move on . . . I’ll stop back periodically to check on you, of course.”

“I have a possible solution to your problem.” the Otokage offered, “But first settle in and get cleaned up . . . we’ll discuss things over dinner.”

“Where am I staying?” the jounin asked as he reshouldered his pack.

“Your old room?” the Uchiha asked uncertainly, “Unless that is too painful.”

“That would be nice ‘tachi.” the silver-haired man replied with a smile, “Perhaps I will find ease there once again.” He wandered down the familiar halls, stopping for a moment outside the rooms he had spent so much time in before shrugging and pushing them open, breathing deeply of the comforting scent of his departed lover. “I’m back Oro.” he whispered longingly, “I wish you were here with me.”

Itachi paced restlessly, impatient for their other guest to return from his training . . . he had a plan to put into motion and not much time to do it in.

Kakashi took a long shower, washing the dust from his body and the fog from his mind. By the time dinner rolled around he was clean, rested and as ready as he’d ever be to talk about his current predicament.

“Kakashi, welcome back, it’s good to see you.” Kisame proclaimed as he pulled the jounin into a rough hug, “When did you arrive?”

“This morning while you were training.” Itachi answered warmly, “Sempai, I’d like you to meet my other honored guest, Sabaku no Gaara, Kazekage of Suna.”

The copy-nin turned to observe the man in question, eyes lingering appreciatively over the pale creamy skin, flaming red hair and entrancing turquoise eyes. “Kazekage-sama.” he acknowledged deferentially, “It is a pleasure to meet you. I was acquainted with your father.” That’s one way to put it, he added wryly to himself.

“Hatake-san, the pleasure is mine.” Gaara replied blandly, “We both know my father was a sick bastard. I am sorry for any pain he caused you. I am . . . all too familiar with his attentions.”

“Maaa, not to worry.” Kakashi replied jovially, “What brings you to Oto?”

“He’s here to offer you sanctuary sempai.” Itachi broke in, “Suna is closely allied with Mist . . . the Mizukage will never suspect you are living there unreported.”

“Why would you do that for me?” the copy-nin asked curiously as he turned to face Gaara.

“We’ll leave you two so you can get acquainted.” Kisame suggested, “Just ring when you’re ready to eat.”

“So Kazekage-sama,” Kakashi repeated once they were alone, “why are you willing to risk your peace for me?”

“My father always said that besides me, you were the best he ever had.” the redhead whispered, eyes locked determinedly on the floor, “You’ve earned your peace Hatake-san.”

“And what about you?” the copy-nin husked, cupping a porcelain perfect cheek in one hand to tilt the redhead’s face toward his. “What peace have you found?”

“I used to be full of rage, killing came easily to me.” Gaara admitted slowly, “Now I’m just empty inside.”

“Aaaaa.” Kakashi murmured, “The world is a lonely place, is it not?”

“Uchiha-san has told me of the peace you helped Orochimaru to find . . . and that the two of you, in turn, helped him to make with his past. I hoped, perhaps . . .” the Kazekage trailed off, pursing his lips in thought before continuing, “I, too, would like to find peace.”

“I understand.” the copy-nin replied thoughtfully, “I will do what I can to help you find ease, Kazekage-sama . . . I will be happy to take refuge with you.” he decided, pushing all thoughts of Ibiki firmly to the back of his mind as his thumb stroked over flawless skin.

“Call me Gaara . . . please.” the redhead murmured.

“Only if you call me Kakashi.” the copy-nin countered, smiling when the younger man nodded hesitantly. “Great,” the jounin continued, “now that that’s decided I believe it is time to eat . . . I find myself anxious to see my new home.”