Into the Fire

Chapter Nine

Kakashi remembered all the times he’d been left behind. His mother had gone when he was only four, lost on a mission. He couldn’t really even remember what she’d looked like, just the press of her soft, sweet smelling cheek against his as she headed out.

His father’s passing he remembered all too well, haunted by guilt that it was somehow his fault. He’d watched the strong warrior slip further and further away, and it hadn’t helped that he’d consciously pulled back himself, unwilling to be tainted by the same act that had made Sakumo’s life a misery.

The copy-nin whimpered in his sleep, tossing his head as a vision of the mighty White Fang laying in a pool of his own blood assaulted his mind. He’d tried so hard to stop the bleeding, too young and traumatized to realize it was already far too late. “I’m sorry ‘tousan, I didn’t mean it.” he heard his child self sob, “Please don’t leave me.”

Obito was next . . . gone before his teammate even realized how much his loss would hurt. Leaving Kakashi with a reminder every time he looked in the mirror of just how dangerous it was for him to get close to anyone.

And then came Minato. That was the hardest loss of all. More of a father than even his own, his sensei had opened his home to the chuunin after his father’s death despite the slurs and accusations thrown Kakashi’s way.

After Yondaime’s death the reinstated Sandaime had cast him in his new role . . . and guaranteed he’d never allow anyone to get close ever again. By the time his old teammate Rin died on a mission he barely noticed, he had become so detached.

The copy-nin curled up tighter, clinging to Ibiki’s chest like a lifeline as he recalled those hectic days after his sensei’s death. Newly appointed to ANBU captain, he stuffed his sorrow behind his mask and reported for duty. He readily acquiesced to the chakra control the Hokage placed on him, duty outweighing his sense that something was very wrong.

The hard price of genius meant that Kakashi had never interacted with children his own age, always finding their pursuits too babyish, while those at his skill level refused to associate with someone so much younger. Thus he had reached the age of fifteen without any real understanding of intimate relations . . . and had never even considered that such things were possible between two men.

“What do you know of the needs of men Kakashi?” Sandaime had asked him. He’d never forget the old man’s response when he’d admitted his ignorance. “Well then, we’ll just have to show you.” Sarutobi had muttered randily before ordering him to strip.

When the copy-nin finally stood naked and mortified before his Hokage he instantly obeyed the voice of authority telling him to kneel . . . never expecting the hard hands that buried themselves in his hair as an even harder cock was forced down his throat. By the time he was shoved roughly to his knees he was in a state of shock, unable to process the conflicting feelings rocketing through him. When the Sandaime buried himself in the jounin’s virgin entrance Kakashi shut down, concentrating on the familiar feeling of pain to anchor him in this unnerving situation.

He shivered harder as flashes of that initiation came back to haunt him, wondering, as always, what it was about him that caused such a reaction. When the Hokage had finally finished with him he brusquely ordered him to dress and sent him on his mission, two weeks as a ‘special envoy’ to the Mizukage.

Ibiki stirred as the jounin’s movements became more frantic, his time in Mist had been particularly distressing and had forever wedded the concepts of pain and pleasure in the mind of the last Hatake. He’d had his first whipping there, hard on the heels of the utter embarrassment of being offered to the Mizukage’s guests as a plaything.

There had been a young medic there, the copy-nin had a vague memory of hair a shade or two darker than his own and kind eyes, who had sworn he’d rescue the young jounin . . . but his promises were for naught, and by the time his two weeks were up Kakashi swore never to believe anyone’s promises again, it wasn’t worth the pain of disappointment.

“It’s alright Hatake-san,” the interrogator soothed as he gently stroked matted silver strands from his face, “you’re safe, I’m here and I won’t leave you.” The restless jounin quieted at the sound of his voice, hard fingers clutching the scarred man’s uniform in a death grip.

Kakashi’s mind continued to torment him by replaying the worst moments of those years, bloody assassinations bled into painful assignations, and neither extreme gave him any assurance of his humanity.

The young copy-nin had been the lynch-pin cementing fragile alliances in those days after the kyuubi, spending time as a guest of the kages in Mist, Stone and Sand. If Mist had taught him pain, Stone taught him extremes, taking two cocks, a fist, being bathed in piss . . . patience was the gift that remained. His mind shied away from his time in Sand, the Kazekage’s tastes were . . . specialized, there Kakashi had found himself tightly bound and penetrated with a variety of toys and devices. He let out a low pained cry as he relived the first time something had been inserted into the slit of his penis, tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes as the remembered pain and fear coursed through him.

“Sshhhhhh,” Ibiki crooned, “I’ve got you Kakashi . . . you’re safe, no one will hurt you, I swear to you.”

Some part of the copy-nin’s mind latched on to that voice, taut muscles relaxing minutely.

“It’s just a dream,” the deep rumble continued, “you’re safe here with me.”

That’s right, Jubo has me, the copy-nin thought as a smile briefly sketched its way across his face, he’ll keep me safe. If you knew all I’d done, would you still call me beautiful? he wondered sadly as his brief moment of happiness slipped away.

So many years had just slipped by . . . three or four times a year Kakashi would slip silently out of the village only to return haggard and drawn several weeks later. When Sandaime died a part of him silently rejoiced, even as he damned himself for his disloyalty.

If I’d only known . . . the thought resonated through the jounin’s mind. His frown deepened as he recalled the heady freedom of those weeks. Until she came, he sullenly acknowledged. Tsunade, the Godaime Hokage . . . and the bane of his existence. She had decided he was an outmoded relic, too blood-thirsty and unpredictable for the field, and so had gleefully pressed him into duty full time, using the copy-nin’s body to settle her debts and finance her lifestyle.

He twitched and growled, fists tightening as he thought of the busty blonde. Kakashi finally jerked awake to find himself cradled gently against a broad chest as a massive hand tenderly stroked his hair. “You’re safe ‘kashi . . . I won’t let you go.”, the comforting growl had him peering intently at the shadowed form, recognition simmering in the corners of his mind.

“Wait a second.” Iruka said, pulling to a halt outside the doors to the Hokage’s office, “Genma . . . are you okay with this?”

“Huh?” the honey-haired man responded eloquently.

“There are too many ways for a shinobi to lose someone that he can’t control . . . I won’t willingly choose to lose you.”

“You won’t lose me Ru, I promise.” his lover assured him, giving the teacher’s hand a squeeze of support, “Now stop stalling . . . I can’t wait to see you in your pretty new robes.” he teased.

Surprisingly, the ceremony took only a few minutes. Iruka looked around the spacious office, dismayed by the jumbled piles of paperwork stacked on every flat surface. “I don’t think a single piece of paper has left this office since Tsunade took over.” he said in a voice halfway between wonder and despair, “It’ll take me months to get this straightened out.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have months, Hokage-sama.” Hiashi said softly, “We’ll take turns . . . two of us will be here to help you each day until we can figure out where we stand.” he promised as the other clan heads nodded their agreement. “Right now, we need to make the announcement . . . if you will please follow me.”

The group assembled on the balcony, addressing the crowd that had assembled when the flag indicating the appointment of a new Hokage had been raised. “People of Konoha,” Hiashi said warmly, “Tsunade has been removed from office and is currently being held for trial on charges of high treason.” He paused to let the news sink in before continuing, “I am very pleased to announce the appointment of a new Hokage, a man I’m sure you will all be happy to pledge your loyalty to . . . Umino Iruka, Rokudaime Hokage.”

The crowd exploded, cheers and applause rising to the startled teacher’s ears. He had not expected his appointment to be met with such approval. “Say something Iruka.” Asuma whispered, nudging him with his elbow.

“Oh, right.” Iruka mumbled before stepping to the front and gesturing for silence. “People of Konoha,” he began, “I am honored to be chosen for this office. I pledge my undying loyalty to every citizen of Konoha . . . shinobi and civilian alike, and I promise to do my best to right the wrongs that took place under the previous leadership. Thank you all so much for your trust and support . . . I give you my word they will not be misplaced.” he concluded grimly, eyes hardening as he recalled, yet again, the reasons behind his appointment.

With that he stepped back into the office, immediately beginning to sort through the paperwork on the desk, intent on finding the information relating to Kakashi. “Hiashi,” the teacher ordered, “you start over there. Asuma, you can take the pile by the couch . . . Gen-chan,” he whispered sultrily to his lover, “Look through these.” he concluded as he dropped a heavy stack of files in the unsuspecting tokubetsu’s lap. “Anything about Hatake give it to me . . . Don’t read it.” he ordered grimly before turning back to the task at hand.

Four hours later Iruka was nearly ready to abandon his quest and go question Tsunade herself. “This one’s labeled Hatake.” Genma suddenly chimed, shoving a manila folder into the teacher’s hands, “Now can we go home?”

Iruka was already eagerly pouring over the contents, eyes hardening as he read the details of Kakashi’s service under the sannin. “It’s worse than we thought.” he declared angrily, “. . . not a single paid mission in three years, he sold his family house two years ago and moved into the smallest apartment in the jounin quarters . . . and he’s two months in arrears there and about to be kicked out.”

“I’ll go talk to the landlord.” Asuma offered.

“And I’ll go find out what happened with his house.” Hiashi added through pursed lips.

After they left Genma pulled the teacher close, wrapping his arms around the slender form tightly before asking “So . . . just what exactly IS going on with Hatake?”