Questionable Loyalty

A/N: And now we're back in Konoha.

Also, yes, I did change my penname because I got a little bored with the previous one - I've had it for quite a while now and I wanted a little variety. I hope it wouldn't get in the way of people finding and reading this fic. :D If it does, I apologise.



CHAPTER 51







Accepting Itachi’s death proved to be harder than Kakashi expected. For the time he had known him, really known him, no matter how short it was, he had grown attached to the older Uchiha. He had grown to love his rare smiles, the scent of his hair, the gentleness of his touch. All of this was gone now, his soul finally at peace, his mortal shell destroyed by the fires of the funeral pyre.



The pain of losing him was made worse by the fact that there was no one to share it with, no one to comfort him, to tell him he wasn’t alone in his grief. If he told Iruka, the younger man would rejoice – not because he was a bad person, but because to him Itachi was a traitor and a murderer.



Would Iruka view Kakashi this way as well one day? It was very probable. That thought brought only bitterness and more grief, because he realized that he didn’t want Iruka to hate him. He didn’t want to see him as an enemy. But that was going to happen, and it was as unavoidable as Itachi’s death had been.



“Kakashi? Kakashi!”



The Jounin sharply looked up and met his lover’s gentle chocolate eyes.



“You were spacing out again, love.” Iruka said. “What’s wrong? You’ve been like this ever since you came back from your latest mission.”



“Like what?” Kakashi asked and looked back down to his plate. They were having a cosy dinner for two in one of Konoha’s high-end restaurants.



“Sad and absent-minded.” Iruka explained. “Is something wrong?”



Kakashi shook his head.



“No. I’m fine.”



“Bullshit.” Iruka was frowning at him. Since the Jounin’s expression became even sadder, he relented. “Alright. You don’t want to talk about it. I won’t press you.” His hand covered Kakashi’s gently. “But I am here, if you ever need to share whatever is bothering you, okay? I love you.”



Kakashi swallowed, the food turning into ash in his mouth. This wasn’t supposed to become so personal, he wasn’t supposed to begin to care for Iruka as much as he had cared for Itachi. It wasn’t love, not in the way he was in love with Nagato, but he felt deep affection and the thought that the young Chuunin would end up hurt and betrayed was painful. He covered the hand with his own.



“Thank you. Sometimes I think I don’t deserve you.”



Iruka smiled warmly.



“You deserve a family, Kakashi-kun. And I’ll give it to you, as long as you want me.”



‘But I already have a family, don’t I?’ Kakashi thought. Iruka’s hand came and caressed his cheek lovingly, misinterpreting Kakashi’s lack of response for bashfulness.



For the time they had spent together, the two of them had gotten closer and closer, and Kakashi was swiftly approaching his goal. While initially he hadn’t had a well-developed plan about how to get to Naruto’s files – as it was, Iruka wasn’t just going to tell him what he needed to know – eventually he had found out that he needed two things. One was Iruka’s seal-card, used to open up the room the files were held in, and two – his password which worked together with the card. It hadn’t been difficult to get his hands on the card and make a copy of it, but the password proved to be harder to obtain.



After a careful search of all of Iruka’s belongings during his absence when he was at work, Kakashi had concluded that the only place Iruka kept the password was his mind. Asking him about it was out of the question. He could, with some effort, glean it from his thoughts with the help of his Sharingan, but that sort of interference was too rough and left visible marks that any telepath – of the Yamanaka clan, for example – could find if they knew what they were looking for. Which they probably would. In order to manipulate Iruka’s consciousness with more finesse, he needed the younger man to trust him. He needed him to open up to him, mentally and emotionally, to feel secure enough in his presence so as not to put up any mental barriers around him, especially when he was sleeping.



Sleeping was the time when Kakashi worked on him. Sex was an exhausting activity, even for a trained ninja, and he made sure that Iruka slept like a log every other night in order for him to work without the fear that his lover might wake up. When Iruka fell asleep, he used his Sharingan and connected with his mind, played with his dreams, unraveled his subconscious layer by layer, working to the place where he knew that password was kept. It was almost done now, all he needed were a few more days and then it would be his.



The rest of the dinner passed in a relative silence, Kakashi not in the mood to talk and Iruka willing to indulge his mood. On their way back the Chuunin wrapped an arm around his shoulders and held him close as they walked down Konoha’s main street. It was already dark, but still early enough that there were people bustling about and their cuddled forms drew quite a few curious looks, especially after Kakashi lay his head on Iruka’s shoulder.



They got home and began to prepare for bed – taking a shower together, washing their teeth, putting up a bowl of milk for the neighbourhood’s cats. It amazed Kakashi how quickly they’d settled into the rhythm of domesticity, and just how pleasant that was. That had been a bit harder with Nagato, because of his extensive duties and all the secrets he kept – and now, he, Kakashi, was the one with the secrets. He couldn’t help but appreciate the bitter irony of it.



Iruka was already in bed when he slid under the cool sheets and laid his head on the tanned, muscular chest, Iruka’s hand immediately tangling in his silver hair.



“I spoke with the Hokage today.” Iruka began quietly. “She told me that Uchiha Itachi was dead. Our spies confirmed it.”



Kakashi stiffened in his arms and closed his eye, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.



“You already knew about this, didn’t you?” Iruka asked.



“What makes you think so?”



“Your mood. You must’ve discovered it on your mission. I know that you were his friend, back then. When he was still in Konoha.”



“We went on some missions together.” Kakashi offered softly. “He was too young for that sort of thing. Too pure. It destroyed him.”



Iruka nodded.



“Children shouldn’t see that kind of death, should they?” he offered.



“Is there a kind of death that children should see, Iruka?” Kakashi asked sardonically.



“I didn’t mean it like that.” Iruka sounded apologetic. “But then again, not everyone ends up as psychotic murderers, no matter the trauma they go through. How old were you when you became a Jounin? Six?”



Under the covers, Kakashi’s hand curled into a fist.



“Are you comparing me to Itachi?” he asked neutrally.



“In a way. You both went through a lot, and you, unlike him, went through it alone, but you didn’t end up going on a murderous rampage. What I am trying to say is that what matters is the individual, not the training.”



“Nature versus Nurture, eh? What are you doing then, teaching the children in the Academy to fight and kill?”



“I am making sure that they stay alive for as long as possible while they serve the Konoha’s interests.” Iruka explained. It sounded rehearsed. He must’ve repeated it to himself often enough to believe it. Kakashi wanted to hit him.



He knew that he had no right to be angry at Iruka – he had grown up with the same brainwashing that all of them were subjected to from the moment of their birth to the moment of their death, when their blood spilled on an unknown battle ground so that Konoha could profit from it. Until a year ago, Kakashi had spouted the same nonsense and had believed it.



“You truly believe that, don’t you?” he asked.



“Yes. Of course. And don’t you? Isn’t that why you took your new apprentices?”



“I guess so.” Kakashi lied through his teeth.



“Then why does Itachi’s death bother you so much?”



Kakashi was quiet for a long time.



“I am thinking” he began slowly “if things could have happened differently. If he never became ANBU, he could remained a stable young man. Something more… if he had never become a Ninja, he could’ve been happy. Do you think that we could be happy, if we were something else?”



“Something else? Other than Ninja, you mean?”



“Something other than killers.” Kakashi clarified.



“Is that how you view us?” Iruka murmured thoughtfully. “And yourself too? Even when you kill to protect your life?”



“From other people who do the same thing that I am doing? Other Ninja, trained to fight and kill and die for their village?”



Iruka was frowning.



“When you put it life that, it does sound like a vicious circle.” He admitted.



“I know. I am tired, I guess. I have seen so much death, Iruka, and it seems like I’ll see a lot more.”



Iruka slid down on the pillows and turned to face Kakashi.



“You are very dispirited tonight.” He murmured, then kissed his forehead.



“I know. I’m sorry.”



“No. It’s okay.” The Chuunin smiled gently at him. “It just shows you’re human, and not some machine.” He wrapped his arms around him. “Not just some killing machine.” Iruka clarified. “As long as we can feel pain, Kakashi, we are human. You, me, Gai, Raidou, everyone. And as long as you have me, I will be here for you, to help you through it.” He promised.



‘What an interesting concept.’ Kakashi thought. ‘I can feel pain, therefore I am a human being. If only you were here to hear this, Nagato. I am sure you would’ve had something to say about it.’