If You Love Until It Hurts

A/N: This took forever and ever to write. GAH. I have no idea how many times I rewrote scenes I was unhappy with. I hope that the end result is coherent.



6





When Kakashi woke up he felt like there were a thousand little Orochimarus inside his head, gleefully pounding away at his skull. He lay there for a while, waiting for the painful throbbing to subside. He rarely drank alcohol and almost never drank himself into that kind of stupor, mostly because the morning after was quite undignified.



As more and more consciousness returned, he realized that his mouth felt like something crawled in it and died there, apart from being terribly dry. He was thirsty, but his stomach was roiling at the same time, as unhappy as his head. When he finally opened his eye he realized several things at the same time. He was lying down on his sofa, feet propped up on the table, neck bent to an awkward angle that undoubtedly would add to the list of miseries he felt when he got up. Two, the curtains of the living room window were blissfully drawn and blocked the sunlight that would probably feel like daggers digging in his eye – and he had personal experience with that sensation. Three, Gai was no where in sight. When did he wake up? Had he left?



The sound of barfing coming from the bathroom answered his question. Kakashi smiled – Gai sounded as miserable as he felt.



When the other man returned his steps were indecently sprightly. Damn him.



Kakashi made no attempt to move when Gai sat down on the edge of the sofa, his face tinged in the same shade of green as his jumpsuit, but otherwise appearing much more coherent than him. Kakashi just looked at him with a bleary, bloodshot eye, waiting for him to speak.



“Last night you told me that you got caught in that trap because you heard the target discussing Sasuke.” He said, blunt and to the point, as always. Kakashi liked that about Gai – he wasn’t a particularly layered person, but he was honest to a fault and you never questioned your standing with him – he always let you know.



“Is that why you got me drunk?” he asked.



“No. I wanted to get myself drunk enough to gather the courage to tell you that I’m sorry.”



That got Kakashi’s attention.



“For what?”



“For not coming fast enough to your aid. For your leg…”



“Gai.” Kakashi interrupted him and winced because he had spoken loud enough to make his head throb even harder. “What happened to my leg was no one’s fault but my own. I got distracted and allowed myself to get caught in a trap that a rookie genin should’ve been able to avoid.” He stopped and closed his eyes – speaking this much made his stomach rebel even harder. “If anything, I should be thanking you for not letting them amputate my leg”



“Oh.” There was a long, sad pause before Gai spoke again, voice very soft “I just don’t want to be responsible for another person important to me getting hurt.”



Honest to a fault and carrying his heart on his sleeve. Kakashi smiled.



“Not your responsibility. Now calm down. And don’t ever again allow Neji to give you alcohol.”



Gai laughed then, loud and cheerful as only Gai could. Had Kakashi not been in this much pain, he would’ve kicked him off the sofa.



“Gai, my head!”



“Sorry, sorry.”



Gai left after he forcefed Kakashi some of his special hangover remedy, the taste of which made him feel even more ill than when he woke up but also decidedly less dozy and the vertigo and the headache went away.



He spent the rest of the day lying on his sofa, flipping through older editions of Icha Icha, waiting for his nausea to pass. His mind wasn’t really the books though. He couldn’t stop thinking about his own words to Gai, thinking back to the mistake he made that brought him in this situation.



The feudal lord’s safe unlocked with a satisfying click and Kakashi let out a sigh of relief. It was the dead of the night and everyone in the castle were deeply asleep. No one had seen him coming in, and if everything went well, no one would see him get out.



He opened the door and carefully peered inside, expecting the safe to be boob- trapped to either destroy the contents or hurt or kill any would-be thief. After a careful inspection though he realized that there was no such thing and he took out the several folders and scrolls he found there. He didn’t touch the money and the jewelry – he was a Shinobi, not a thief.



Kakashi sat on the floor and pulled the folders on his lap, pointing the flashlight he had used while cracking the safe to them, then began to leaf through the contents. It didn’t take him too long to discover that indeed, it was as they had suspected – the feudal lord was on Orochimaru’s payroll. Kakashi took several calming breaths, trying to quell the rage that seethed within him. He despised traitors from the bottom of his heart, and after all Orochimaru had done recently – to Konoha and to Kakashi personally – he was ready to storm out of the office, find the feudal lord and slit his throat. It would require quite a lot of effort, considering the amount of fat he’d have to cut through, but Kakashi was more than willing to spare the time and energy.



But killing the man was not part of his mission – Tsunade had been clear on that in her orders. Kakashi understood it, logically – knowing that they had a mole meant that they could feed the more false information and use him to manipulate Orochimaru. Still, he couldn’t help the emotional response. They were keeping a viper in their bosom, both literally and figuratively, and his first instinct was to smash its head before it could bite them.



As he sat there, trying to calm down and think rationally, he suddenly heard the door opening and voices behind it.



Kakashi could move very fast when required to, so by the time the feudal lord opened the door and entered his office, he had already closed the safe and dove under the desk at its side. The desk was a polished mahogany monstrosity, too large for a single person and so gaudy with gilded scrollwork that Kakashi had wondered how the man didn’t become cross-eyed by just looking at it, let alone working behind it all day.



There was enough space under the desk for him to hide, though he knew the place was booby-trapped – if he moved just a few inches to the side he would trigger the trap. Still, he had no choice at the moment but to stay there and move as little as possible. Kakashi had no idea why the desk was rigged while the safe wasn’t, though he suspected it was to draw attention away from the safe. A thief wouldn’t look for important documents in a place as obvious as a safe, but he would assume that if someone bothered to booby-trap a desk he’d also hide important things in it.



The feudal lord turned on the light switch and the office was bathed in bright light.



“Here we can speak in private, Yakushi-san.” The man said, his voice deep and gravelly. “Would you like something to eat or drink?”



“Spare me the pleasantries.” Kakashi recognized Kabuto’s unmistakable voice. He sounded quite angry “I’ve come here on business. Orochimaru-sama wishes to know why you didn’t send a message faster when you realized Konoha nin were pursuing our agents. We lost the entire team because of your tardiness.”



There was a long, tense pause.



“They were genin, almost children… I assumed Orochimaru-sama’s hand-picked team could handle them. And had I sent the message earlier, I’d have looked too suspicious. Tsunade is many things, but a fool she is not.”



“They were very valuable agents.” Kabuto’s voice was icy. “If Orochimaru-sama loses more such agents because of your attempts to cover your own ass he would be very displeased. Very displeased indeed. Be grateful that Sasuke-kun arrived safely. Otherwise I would have been sent here to kill you, rather than deliver warnings”



“Ah… the Uchiha… He is with Orochimaru-sama?”



“Where else could he be, you fool?!”



Kakashi jerked when he heard Sasuke’s name. He hadn’t meant to, he wasn’t supposed to, he should’ve known better than to react like that, but the emotional response to hearing that name leaving Kabuto’s mouth had been so strong, so intense, that he hadn’t been able to help himself. He jerked, and he hit the booby-trap under the desk. The trap was sprung and the toxin-coated blade embedded itself deeply into his leg.



Things went to hell after that. Kakashi still wondered how he managed to elude Kabuto, especially with the injured leg and he still had no idea why he hadn’t pursued him personally, rather than sending his cronies after him.



Still, no matter how he turned it in his head, the only conclusion was that he had brought this on himself. He had been careless and the result was that his leg was numb from below the knee and that he would have to keep teaching classes at the Academy.



He hadn’t meant to be late that day, and yet he had made the conscious decision to spend time at the monument when he knew Iruka expected him to show up on time. A wave of guilt coursed through him and he decided that he would apologize first thing on Monday morning.



On Monday Iruka woke up, feeling rested, relaxed and refreshed. The time he had spent with Genma over the weekend had released the pent up frustration and tension he felt, and now he was as good as new, ready to face a classroom full of banshees and a tardy Jounin. He frowned at the thought of Kakashi and rubbed his eyes. Perhaps, as tired and tense he had been on Friday, he had treated him too harshly. Kakashi was trying, he could tell and he shouldn’t have picked on every little mistake he made. He felt even more guilty when he remembered how the man had withdrawn into himself as the day progressed, and Iruka’s own frosty behavior hadn’t helped.



Determined to apologize and smooth things over, he got dressed and headed for the Academy.



Much to his surprise though, when he arrived Kakashi was already there, and he had apparently been around for a while now because he had drawn a diagram on the blackboard, as well as scribbled multiple notes explaining details of the lesson. Unsurprisingly, the diagram was exceptionally precise, though the glyphs of Kakashi’s notes were practically unintelligible. Iruka had been subjected to the man’s handwriting through many, many reports the Jounin had turned in, and he winced at the thought of the students trying to decipher all that. Still, he got points for the effort and Iruka decided not to pick on details. If someone didn’t understand something he’d just clarify it verbally.



Kakashi turned around and looked at him. He wasn’t wearing his flack jacket, and his black shirt underneath was stained with chalk dust. He looked like someone had hit him with a bag of flour. They looked at each other for a long, awkward moment and then suddenly said at the same time:



“I wanted to apologize.”



There was another pause, but the tension Iruka felt when he came in slowly dissipated.



“I’ll go first, Kakashi-san.” He said. “I wanted to apologize for being such an ass on Friday. I treated you unfairly. I’m sorry.”



Kakashi shook his head and left the piece of chalk he held by the blackboard, then he walked up to Iruka.



“It was my fault. I promised not to be late and I broke my promise. I apologize. I’ll do my best that not to happen again.”



Iruka grinned. They sounded like a pair of schoolboys making peace after a playground fight, but still, it was progress. Maybe things were going to work out, after all.



Classes were somewhat dull that day, both him and Kakashi droning on their lessons, the students writing down or training diligently. Iruka, for his part, was preoccupied with an idea. Despite their apologies, he knew that it’d take time to completely smooth things over, and he was eager to speed up the process. He wasn’t entirely sure that Kakashi would accept his proposal, but there was no harm in trying.



During the lunch break he approached Kakashi, who was sitting on a chair next to Iruka’s desk, reading a book which upon closer inspection it turned out not to be, thankfully, pornographic. He looked up when Iruka’s shadow fell on him, his single uncovered eye curious and slightly apprehensive.



“Iruka-san?”



“I, er…” he was suddenly tongue-tied. “There is a teahouse nearby. The faculty often has lunch there. Would you like to come? I noticed you haven’t eaten.”



Kakashi paused, obviously surprised by Iruka’s invitation, looked down at his book, considering the question, then closed it and tucked it into his pocket.



“Yes, that would be a good idea.”



By the time they arrived the teahouse was packed, but Kakashi’s presence was enough for the staff to find them a free table at the back of the garden, pleasantly isolated from the rest of the establishment by several overgrown bushes.



They sat down, ordered their tea and food and waited. There was a moment of awkward silence. Finally, Iruka spoke.



“The food is very good here. I hope it will be to your liking.”



Kakashi shrugged.



“It’s food, Iruka-san. As long as it doesn’t poison me, I don’t mind.”



‘Why the hell must you be so difficult?’ Iruka thought with annoyance. ‘Talking with you is like talking to a wall.’ Still, he wasn’t about to give up. Kakashi spoke first though.



“Come now, Iruka-san. This is not just some social invitation. And if it’s just an extension of this morning’s apology, there really was no need.” He paused. “Still, if it is, I’d like to pay the bill.”



Iruka smiled and saw an answering grin stretch Kakashi’s lips under the mask.



“How do you know I haven’t brought you here just to try and take a peek at your face?”



“Because you’re not a twelve year old student.” The Jounin pointed out.



“Who knows… where Naruto failed I might succeed.”



Iruka’s words reminded Kakashi of those odd few days that he had spend a while ago, stalked by his own team as well as a bunch of idiots he couldn’t remember. The former had gotten to exercise their nonexistent tailing skills and he had taken care of the latter, whoever they were. Good times.



The food arrived, steaming and delicious and they tucked in, seizing conversation for the time being. Despite his words, Iruka resisted the urge to look up and examine Kakashi’s face. The Jounin was right – he had grown up since his days as the local troublemaker.



When he did look up Kakashi’s dishes were empty, while his own were still half-full. Damn, but the man was fast.



“So do tell now, Iruka-san. Why are we here?”



“For the record, I would’ve invited you even if I didn’t… well, want to say something.” He pointed out and cleaned his lips with a napkin. Kakashi said nothing, so he continued. “I wanted to ask you if you’d consider coming with us to an onsen.”



Kakashi blinked, honestly surprised.



“Who is this us?”



“The students and I.” Iruka answered, then elaborated. “All classes go, though each class does so during different time of the year – it’s a small mercy on the poor staff. They’d probably bring down the establishment on their heads if we brought them all at once. And since now it’s our turn, and you’re my assistant teacher… I was wondering if you’d like to come as well.”



This did remind Kakashi of a happier time, when he had actually begun to believe that things in his life had finally taken the right direction. It had all come crashing down, of course, but still, those few days while his students stalked him around, attempting to unmask him had been one of the best moments of his life recently. Even now, he was eager to recapture the sheer joy of that time. He knew it wouldn’t be the same – not with the kids gone, but at the same time he was willing, eager even, to recapture something of the feeling from that more innocent time.



“When are you going?” he asked.



“Next month.”



Kakashi stared at his plate for a long while before saying:



“I’ll think about it.”



The Chuunin looked somewhat disappointed at not being given a clear answer right away, but Kakashi didn’t want to appear eager, no matter how he felt.



The next few weeks were somewhat of a blur in his mind – he woke up early, did his morning ablutions and hurried for the monument, spending some time there before doing his best to go to work on time.



Iruka seemed to appreciate his efforts, because he slowly relaxed around Kakashi, greeting him with that same warm smile that reached his eyes every morning. He didn’t press him for an answer, he didn’t mention the topic again, for which Kakashi was immensely grateful. The teaching itself was a varied affair – he still felt awkward in front of so many children, but he was getting used to it. The children themselves were relaxing as well, starting to ask questions – and attempting to prank Kakashi. His seemingly infinite ability to dodge buckets of water perched on top of the door, smell laxatives added to his food and avoid sitting on chairs smeared with unpleasant substances impressed them, though it did also made them all the more determined to breach his defences. Kakashi was proud of them, and oddly enough, so was Iruka. When he asked him about it, the Chuunin had smiled and answered:



“Isn’t it what they’re here for? To learn to outsmart their opponent?”



During those weeks they began to spend more and more time together, often having lunch in the teahouse they visited the first time. Kakashi found himself enjoying the company and the conversation, finding Iruka to be a pleasant, warm companion under the strict, slightly overprotective teacher veneer. He wasn’t nearly as naïve as Kakashi had believed him to be, but unlike many Jounin who often grew jaded and cynical because of their experiences, Iruka took it all in a stride. It was hard to believe, but he realized that he actually enjoyed the time he spent with him. He never initiated anything on his own, Iruka was always the one to invite him, but still, he declined none of these invitations. Not even one.



About a week before the aforementioned trip to the onsen was supposed to take place, Kakashi also found that Iruka wasn’t nearly as harmless as he appeared on first sight. No Ninja was considered to be completely harmless, of course, but Jounin in Kakashi’s position often looked down on the Chuunin, especially those who worked as teachers in the Academy, believing they had the theoretical knowledge to teach children the basics, but lacked actual combat experience. In some cases, Kakashi was sure that was actually true and he had been ungracious enough to put Iruka in the same category.



One cool autumn evening, however, Iruka proved him wrong.



The weather had been growing progressively worse for the past several days, the sky dark and overcast with heavy clouds. It had been raining that day, and it kept raining in the evening while Iruka and Kakashi remained in the classroom after all the children had gone home, grading tests. About a week earlier they had discovered they were a lot more efficient when they performed that task together, so they began to stay after classes and finish that work before they went home. They had gathered a pair of desks together, sitting opposite each other while they went through the papers. They were almost done for the evening, both of them quite tired, so they engaged in more talk than actual work. Once again, Kakashi found himself not minding at all.



“Did Tsunade-sama say when you’d be able to begin training again?” Iruka asked, and although it was a prying question, coming from him it wasn’t that unwelcome.



Kakashi ticked the correct answers on the paper in front of him and replied:



“I started rehabilitation about a week ago. Tsunade-sama seemed pleased with the way my leg has healed – the damage to the muscles isn’t as serious as we initially thought. I’ll be able to begin training again, though not extensively, in about two weeks.”



Iruka grinned at him, the smile lighting up his entire face.



“Well, congratulations are in order then!”



Kakashi found himself smiling back under his mask, genuinely smiling for the first time since Minato had died.



“Yes.” He said quietly. “Thank you.”



The last of the tests were done and they gathered them in a neat, orderly file, then put them in a folder, returned the desks and chairs to their places and headed for the Teachers’ room to leave the folder there. They were both silent, but that was a serene, companionable silence, unlike the awkwardness from Kakashi’s first days in the Academy.



When they neared the Teachers’ room, however, Kakashi’s trained hearing picked up suspicious sounds coming from the room next to it. He stopped, paused and listened, Iruka as well, looking as alert as Kakashi felt. The Jounin turned to him and asked quietly:



“I thought that everyone else went home?”



“They did.” Iruka whispered, eyes still focused on the closed door. They both heard the unpleasant sound of metal scraping against metal – someone was opening or closing filing cabinets.



“What’s in there?”



“The records and profiles of all students who have studied here for the past fifteen years.” Iruka replied, then slowly tiptoed towards the door, feet as silent as a cat’s. Kakashi followed and they both listened, then Kakashi chanced peeking through the small window at the top of the door. Only one of the lamps in the room was on, and in its light he saw two men standing with their backs to the door, garbed in Chuunin uniforms, rummaging through the drawers. Apparently they were looking for something. Iruka followed suit and frowned, pursing his lips, then pulled Kakashi aside and whispered:



“Whoever they are, they’re not members of the Academy staff and they have no business going through those files.”



Kakashi nodded, then quickly devised a plan for action.



“We don’t have time to call for back up, they might decide to leave at any moment and only one of us might not be enough to overpower them. We’ll wait for them outside, and when they get out, we’ll grab them. That way we’ll know exactly what they were looking for.”



Iruka nodded, his expression grim. They separated and stood on each side of the door. Much to Kakashi’s surprise, the Chuunin was perfectly capable of blending with his surroundings – a type of jutsu that required a lot of concentration even from a Jounin. He decided to leave the questions for later and followed suit, performing the necessary seals and blending with the wall behind him. The two strangers inside were in for a surprise when got out.



Soon, the door opened with a quiet creak and the first Chuunin peeked outside, looking at around to see if the corridor was empty, then signaled to the other one inside the room. Together they exited, but after only a step one of them was suddenly grabbed from behind in a vice-like grip. Kakashi immediately pressed against his carotid artery to knock him out, knowing he couldn’t afford a protracted combat in his condition. The glamour dissipated the moment he moved from his spot though, and when the other Chuunin turned he saw his companion in his grip. His reaction was immediate – he kicked and threw a punch, and Kakashi quickly pushed the unconscious body between them to absorb the blows. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t used to his leg not cooperating as it should, and he swayed, on the edge of crashing down on the floor. His opponent used this momentary lapse of concentration as an opportunity to escape, apparently having recognized Kakashi and having decided that he didn’t want to fight the Copy Ninja even when he was injured. He turned and tried to flee, only to be tripped by an invisible shadow that quickly became quite visible when Iruka moved. He managed not to fall over, but it slowed him down enough for Iruka to engage him in combat himself.



Kakashi dropped the body on the floor and turned, wanting to help, then paused and watched the scene before him, realizing that Iruka didn’t actually need any help. The second Chuunin had regained his balance and attacked, but he was met with a flurry of kicks and punches, the younger man moving with the grace and fluidity of someone who had both knowledge and experience. His expression was grim and focused, his usually warm brown eyes now cold and hard. He definitely didn’t need any help and Kakashi just stood there, watching the display with a growing sense of awe. Soon Iruka completely overpowered his opponent and with one last punch to his solar plexus and a headbutt he send him sprawling on the floor, unconscious. He turned to Kakashi, panting and smiling. The whole thing, from opening of the door to the knocking out of the second man, had taken less than thirty seconds.



Kakashi smiled back and shook his head in disbelief. Iruka was full of surprises.



Much later, after they had called ANBU to pick up the two men – who definitely weren’t any Konoha nin, they discovered – Kakashi approached the younger man, who was standing by the Academy front entrance and was flexing his wrist.



“Are you okay?”



“Nothing a little ice can’t fix.”



Kakashi nodded and stood there for a few moments, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say.



“What is it, Kakashi-san?”



“I…uh…I made up my mind. I’ll come with you… and the class on the trip to the onsen.”



Iruka smiled, that damn warm smile that was so infectious and nodded.



“I’ll be honored if you do.”