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Another Perfect Wonder	By : jaded_priceless Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Kakashi/Iruka Views: 10014 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
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Disclaimer: I do not own Dagonball or Dragonball Z. It belongs to Akira Toriyama and various publishing and licensing companies. I make no profit from it or the characters or references named within or this work of fiction.

Chapter 33

The trip back to the cabin was mostly silent. All of Kakashi’s attempts at conversation were met with monosyllabic responses. Kakashi didn’t know what the store owner said to Iruka but whatever it was disturbed him greatly. He could feel his chest tightening in unfamiliar ways as Iruka’s gloom slowly permeated forest.

He and Iruka had clashed several times in the past and each time Iruka gave as good as he got. Better if Kakash was completely honest. It took guts for a chuunin stand up to every jounin in the village including the Hokage for what he believed in.

Even when Iruka was horribly outclassed, chewed up, spit out, and beaten until he was bloody (seriously, pedophile or not, who attacked a clan elder at a family meeting?) the man was never cowed. At least he hadn’t been until today.

The only good thing Kakashi could say about Iruka’s mood was that it kept their unwanted escorts far enough away that he could do seal dexterity exercises without suspicion.

When Iruka did speak his voice was so low Kakashi could barely hear it, “Can you make it up the stairs by yourself?”

“Yeah, do you need me to carry anything in?” Kakashi asked politely not quite sure of how to handle this side of Iruka.

“Just the turtle,” Iruka answered forcing himself to smile as he handed the animal to Kakashi.

Kakashi slowly walked up the three concrete blocks that formed a makeshift stairway. With each step his broken ankle reminded him that it wasn’t completely healed and most likely improperly set. He placed the turtle in the kitchen sink and reconfigured the bedding around him. He had to take the hat and gloves back out to Iruka.

“Here. You need these more than I do.” Kakashi said softly handing them to his companion.

Iruka looked up when the hat and gloves appeared in front of him. “Take them and go back inside.”

“I’m going back inside. That’s why I said you need them. If you get sick, who’s going to take care of me?” Kakashi smirked jokingly.

The look of hurt and dejection that flashed across Iruka’s face before it went blank was enough to let him know his attempt at lightening his companion’s mood failed miserably.

“Look, just put them on ok. You haven’t done anything to deserve my miserable attempts at cooking. If you get sick I’ll do my best, but you’ve seen how spectacularly I fail at caretaking.” Kakashi admonished while hinting at his tutelage of Team Seven.

Iruka watched as Kakashi stiffly picked up three of the smaller fishing rods and carried them back into the cabin. He knew he shouldn’t have let Shibata-san’s reaction bother him. She was an old civilian shopkeeper that he had met on a mission. She was a means to acquire supplies and further his ruse as a civilian.

It wasn’t like she was Anko, Suzume, his favorite academy sensei or the matron at the orphanage or any of the other women who’d shaped his life after the loss of his mother. She was just a civilian shop keeper who was raised in the same area as his mother and other than the ninja ideals grew up with the same set of core values as his mother.

He’d never told his parents about his preference. He was ten when they died and hadn’t even begun to show to signs of impending puberty, but even at the age he was starting to suspect he was different. The other boys were starting to pull the girls hair and play tricks on them. He was content to ignore them all together. He often wondered what his parents would say if they knew if given a choice between a male and a female he would gladly choose his own gender.

They’d taught him the difference between wanted and unwanted touches before he went to the academy. As he got older they began teaching him there was a great difference between occurrences in real life and on missions. He had reached the age where he was learning he should never be ashamed or humiliated by the things he did for the sake of his village or who he did them with when they died. He wanted to think they would be accepting.

Kakashi had settled and then played with the turtle. He’d messily remade the bed and began walking up and down the hallway to start breaking in his shoes. Iruka was still outside. He picked up two of the smaller pots and managed to add enough embers to start a fire and set them by the door.

He unmade the bed and wrapped himself up tight enough that he wouldn’t set himself on fire then headed outside. He set one of the pots near Iruka and another at his feet then added wood to it. He sat down next to Iruka and draped the blanket around him.

The small fires he’d started were burning brightly when Iruka finally acknowledged him, “You look like an over grown six year old pretending to be from Wind Country.”

“So you think I’m sexy?” Kakashi teased knowing full well he looked ridiculous. He had folded a pillow over his head and secured it with the case. He was once again wrapped in sheets and blankets, but his healing ribs hindered his mobility. The bones on his fingers were completely healed but stiff from lack of use.

“Yeah,” Iruka murmured somberly.

Kakashi was about to respond flippantly when Iruka continued speaking forcing him to realize this was about more than just the mission.

“Do you think my father would be proud of me? He was a great man. One of the strongest and bravest people I know. Do you think he would be proud to have a son that likes men?”

Many times life and death depended on the subtlest of communications. Iruka had said my father not father or mother but my father meaning his own set of parents. Kakashi had asked himself that question many times. How would his parents feel knowing that their son would rather bed a man?

He answered honestly choosing to reveal a bit of himself in the process, “I think your father would be just as proud of you as my mother would be of me. Actually I think yours would be prouder.”

“You’re kind. You’re forgiving; you see the best in everyone. You inspire people to be better person. I’m just a selfish asshole with destructive talents,” Kakashi sighed.

“That’s true, but you aren’t as hopeless as you think you are. If you were you weren’t be out here with pneumonia and no coat trying to placate me.” Iruka replied gently bumping into Kakashi.

The two men sat in companionable silence until Kakashi’s stomach rumbled. “Hey didn’t you promise to cook me a turtle?”

The next morning Iruka woke alone to the feeling of Snow ninja chakra, the sound of soft laughter and a series of scrapes and thumps in the kitchen that reminded him of Naruto’s cooking efforts.

He sleepily stumbled in the kitchen expecting to smell something burning only to see a mirthful Kakashi. When he asked what was so funny, Kakashi pointed at the turtle. Even though the kitchen was cooler than the main room and bathroom it was warm enough to melt the snow and rouse the hibernating turtle.

It had managed to crack two of the eggs in the basket on the counter and was currently stuck between the spigot and faucet handles which hindered his valiant escape efforts. Each attempt brought him close enough to reach the sprigs of dried herbs hanging above the sink and take a small nibble before sliding back down and landing with a thump.

“Maybe I should name it?” Kakashi asked as he took pity on the turtle, placing it and its prey squarely in the sink.

“It has a name and I wished you wouldn’t have done that,” Iruka frowned.

“What is it and why?” Kakashi inquired stroking the animal’s back.

“His name is Master Roshi but he’s in disguise so I’ll call him Niku no Kame. When we get back I plan in introducing it to his long lost friends Gohan and Vegeta. You shouldn’t have done that because I’m not sure how he will taste with mint. You should have given him the dried shiso instead.”

Iruka knew his explanation didn’t go over his companion’s head. After their argument over placing Team Seven in the chuunin exam the Third had broken protocol and shared that Kakashi was one of the select few chosen to guard the Fourth’s Legacy and Konoha’s last Uchiha.

Unlike the regular Anbu those in the Mother Hen masks were not always hidden. Instead they provided limited social interaction and gave important lessons such as personal hygiene and cooking to their young charges.

Both men ignored the muffled laughter overhead and the familiar thump of a Snow ninja falling sideways into his element. Apparently today’s watchers, like Naruto and Sasuke, had once been avid Dragonball Z fans.

“It will be a challenge but I’m sure I can make our green friend taste good,” Iruka boasted mischievously in Kakashi’s ear.

Kakashi tensed catching Iruka’s meaning. “Please tell me you did not just say that.”

Iruka’s face was frozen into a grimace of mock solemnity, “Do you not think Niku no Kame would make a formidable opponent? So far the only thing I’ve cooked you has been vegetables, rice, fish, and squirrel. You’ve never had turtle and it’s been a long time since I cooked one, but I’m confident I can defeat it.”

Kakashi groaned. Part of the reason he’d never had turtle was because there wasn’t a quiet way to pry one out of the shell while on the missions; the other reason was respect. His psychotic best friend, not that he’d ever admit it to Gai, summoned the creatures.

“Let’s make it interesting,” Iruka added while shifting into what would have been Good Guy Pose# 782 had his thumb been raised, his smile less lecherous and he not been pointing at the oblivious reptile. “If I’m unable to defeat my green beastly rival and you do not enjoy it I’ll make you come three times before tomorrow morning.”

This wasn’t one of Gai’s and Kakashi still didn’t share Iruka’s enthusiasm for eating it, but he was somewhat amused, aroused, and disturbed by his mission partner’s imitation of Gai speak, “And if you win?”

“You make me come three times before tomorrow morning,” Iruka replied innocently wrapping his arms around Kakashi and rolling his hips just enough to reawaken their morning wood and hopefully scare off their audience. Kakashi didn’t have to turn around to know there was a Snow ninja peeking in the kitchen window.

“Rui, my love, not in front of dinner,” Kakashi replied draping his arms over Iruka’s shoulders, slowly maneuvering the two of them into the corner.

“Is this better?” Iruka asked lifting Kakashi onto the counter so they were concealed by the bulk of the ancient refrigerator.

“Much,” Kakashi moaned snaking his legs around Iruka’s waist.

The repeated grumbles of “I can’t see anything around that damn refrigerator” did not deter the two men hiding behind it from seeking their pleasure.

Over the next few days they settled into a routine which included “Shishi’s” and “Rui’s” makeout sessions. Mornings began with Iruka cooking breakfast while Kakashi worked on adding sides to the wall section Iruka had been pulling him on. It was slowly starting to resemble a real cart.

After their meal Iruka would wrap him in bedding and the two men would go fishing. They avoided setting up in the area near the decaying wood, but Iruka set his lines there frequently. He checked those and the ones he set in the deep water while Kakashi monitored the ones where he was sitting. When Kakashi wasn’t pulling up small fish and re-baiting hooks, he practiced woodcarving.

Each day they left the lake after two hours. The medicine Shinsuke had given him helped but Kakashi was still coatless and not completely cured of pneumonia. They played “I spy” on the way to the village covertly keep track of the enemy ninja movements. Squirrels, clouds, bird were primarily used but every now and then one of them would cry “Onbaa” to signify an unknown ninja.

Iruka continued to go straight to the residential sections and skipping Mama-san’s restaurant but now they added Kakashi’s creations to the wares they were peddling. Each individual bookend, animal, knick knack and paper weight was intricately carved and completely unique so there were no others like it. These were sold to the rich at a premium. Those with slight, mostly unnoticeable imperfections were sold to the poor children for the very affordable price of being told something interesting.

The evenings were spent with Kakashi working on the cart while Iruka chopped wood and cooked dinner. After dinner the two men discussed what they’d seen and heard and its possible meanings over a game of go or shougi. They’d found a dusty set in one of the cupboards in the kitchen. Buttons from Iruka’s sewing kit were used to supplement the missing pieces.

They had managed to gain a small amount of information in this manner, especially once the working class civilians realized they were literate. One of the men who worked for the butcher received a letter from his sister and his wife was too ill to read it for him.

The letter was simple. Inquiries about his family, his niece and nephew were getting taller. She was expecting another baby. The hens were still laying despite the cold weather. One cow died, but another had given birth to two calves. The sheep were thriving, but they’d shorn two and slaughtered them to feed and make coats for a group of ninja who were spending the winter in their village.

The letter Iruka sent back was just as simple. He and his family were fine so was their parents. His wife was also expecting. They had new fishermen in their village who liked the cold so they actually had something other than scraps he brought from work for dinner. He was still saving for a farm. They also had ninja in their village.

Iruka discretely added these wore headbands that looked like a five dice if they were missing the dot one in the upper left corner but the other looked a bit like a crooked print of an animal’s paw and asked for a similar description.

Shibata Emiko was miserable. Shinsuke, that nice young Snow ninja had checked her out, but she didn’t need anyone to tell her ailment had nothing to do with anything physical. It had started the day she had all but thrown one of her best new customers out of her store. It got worse each day as she watched him pass by pulling a pot full of bedding covering the reason he’d been turned out into the cold

The ache worsened this morning. Her husband, her oldest son, daughter-in-law and grandchild had left for the capitol to take her youngest son back to university. Her husband and sons should have left four days ago to reach the train station two villages over but that ninja woman Ryuu-sama had asked to use one of their wagons in exchange for an escort to and from the capitol.

It was an offer too good to pass up. Her menfolk would have re-supplied at the larger town and mailed the items back to stock the store but items were far less expensive in the capitol. Now they didn’t have to worry about shipping cost or bandits with the ninja escort.

She, as well as most women in the village, were trained in midwifery but her daughter-in-law had been having minor pains and was larger at this stage than in her last pregnancy. She could get a full exam and sonogram from a licensed obstetrician in the city so she and her son went as well.

It only took one person to run the store this time of year. She supposed a part of it may have been loneliness but she knew the ache in her heart and the knot in her belly had more to do with what Daisuke said more so than the lack of his and the others presence.

As she was giving him a motherly goodbye embrace, her youngest son that she wouldn’t see for several months had told her in a tone she’d grown quite familiar with since he’d become a teenager, “Geez, I’m just going back to school. You act like you’re throwing me alone and naked into the wilderness instead of sending me to stay with Auntie and Uncle.”

She felt as thought she’d been slapped. It must have showed on her face the way her other adult relatives admonished the youngster. It was true, she wasn’t throwing her son alone and naked into the wilderness. But she’d already done that to two young strangers with no one but themselves to rely on.

It wasn’t as if she had a hatred of homosexuals or had never met one. It was no secret, more like an unspoken truth, that the two farmhands who worked for Satou-san remained in the same house and never remarried after their wives died had more to do with each other than the children each could claim as a niece or a nephew. She rarely remembered gossip unless it was especially juicy but the owner of the tofu shop’s wife swore there was it was more than friendship that drove them to marry each other’s sisters.

She didn’t have a problem with either of those men. She thought it was rather admirable the way they doted on and made no difference between each other’s children. So why did she find the action of a stranger so distasteful? It wasn’t as if Rui was her child.

She sighed and picked up another bottle of the antacid she’d been inspecting. That was the whole problem.

Her family was from Lightning Country and she had the dark skin of its people. Her husband had the fair skin of those from Snow Country’s interior. The two beautiful children they made had skin the color of honey and caramel. Rui could have come from anywhere or any number of people but with skin that looked like heavily milked coffee, the boy could have every easily come from her.

Therein lay the problem.

She knew her oldest son was very enamored with his wife. So much so they’d moved the two of them upstairs and across the house within one week of their marriage. Her youngest regularly participated in the match making events, but hadn’t selected a girl for serious courting. Whenever she tried to get information on his love life from her brother in the capitol he would always reply “the last person who needs to know a young man’s romantic business is his mother.”

Rui’s admission opened her eyes to one of her worse fears as a parent. That sweet child she’d carried for nine months and rose with all of her love and affection could possibly prefer the same gender. She wanted to say she was a better person and the type of mother who could forgive that…

“Shibata-san.”

She cleared her head and rose from her position marking down expiring inventory when a familiar voice called to her.

“Kaede-sama!” she smiled addressing the medical ninja who routinely held clinics in their village. “What a pleasure! Shinsuke said you’d been called away to attend to Lord Washizu’s wife for the duration of her pregnancy.”

“Yes, well at that time a woman’s best comfort is her mother. I can’t really blame her for returning to Fire Country for that reason even if that slug woman will be tending to her,” the bespectacled brunette said turning up her lips in a mock pout. “So where is my favorite bean snorter?”

“Tomoko and Daiichiro went with my husband and sons to the capital. She’s been having a few pains and refuses to believe they’ll go away if she put Daiichi on the sofa,” she explained in exasperation before asking, “what is a slug woman and why would Lady Washizu be tended to by her?”

“The slug woman is the Hokage, leader, of the Konoha ninjas based in Fire Country and possibly the greatest medic to have ever lived,” the Cloud medic added grudgingly.

“If she’s such a great medic how is she a ninja village leader? I thought only the strongest man was fit for such a position?” Shibata-san inquired.

Kaede grimaced, “She is also the reason we no longer have Giha or my mother.”

“I’m sorry. It was rude of me to ask,” the shop owner apologized bowing. She knew Giha had been destroyed in the same skirmish that claimed Kaede’s mother.

“Raise your head, Shibata-san. That was a long time ago. You had no way of knowing. It was war and my mother was a medical ninja. She gave her life defending her patients. If she had to die at least I know it was in battle to a strong honorable opponent.” The Cloud medic explained.

She continued when she saw how much she’d upset the civilian store keeper, “I met her. It was last year when Shinsuke took his examination to move up in rank. He faced off against her student. She was a pretty little thing no bigger than Arisa with green eyes and pink hair. She broke his arm with one finger in the second stage of the examination. A clean break just snapped it right in two.”

“Normally, when you injure an enemy you leave them for their own medics to heal. They both passed to the next round and she used some of the energy she should have been saving for her own match to fix it so he wouldn’t have to fight with a handicap. The lottery selected her as his opponent in the final round.”

Like most civilians Shibata grew up terrified of ninjas. That terror slowly dissipated when Kaede and her student began making medical rounds to all of the border villages. Now that so many ninja had been stationed as guards in her village, she couldn’t help but like some of them.

“Did he win?” she asked eagerly.

“Nope. He quit as soon as he got in the ring,” Kaede laughed holding her sides. “He earned his ranking by showing good decision making skills. Takamoto-sama told him he would never have been promoted if he tried to fight her. The Hokage congratulated him afterwards when she greeted her student.”

Her voice grew serious, “People always tell me I look very similar to my mother. I didn’t believe them until the Hokage spoke. She was addressing Shinsuke but looking at me. She said, ‘You chose wisely. It is foolish to place yourself in harm’s way unless there is something truly worth defending. Then it becomes an act of bravely that will always be remembered.’”

“The Hokage is one of the strongest ninjas alive. Of the countless warriors she’s faced she hasn’t forgotten my mother. I sincerely believed that my father and I were the only two who would never forget her. For that I am grateful,” Kaede mused serenely.

“Well that and the little monster she trained is the reason the boys in Shinsuke’s age group learned to respect women. Has he been behaving himself?” she asked the shopkeeper.

Shinsuke’s jounin sensei was stationed at Lord Washizu’s castle but he was her medical apprentice. When Hojo was called to the castle Shinsuke, like Arisa, was left under Takamoto’s supervision but he’d foisted the boy off on Manzô without them ever being the wiser.

He claimed it was to allow him time to focus on their prisoner but she knew he did not want to be their primary babysitter. She had great respect for Takamoto as a ninja. Manzô was very hard working and a distant kinsman but didn’t like the idea of putting impressionable children in their exclusive care.

“I understand why you worry about his influences, but Shinsuke-kun is so well behaved you may give yourself gray hairs for no reason. Now Daisuke is a different matter all together,” Shibata-san laughed fingering the silvers she attributed to her youngest which brought her thoughts back to Rui.

“Kaede-san, may I ask a favor of you? There are two young men staying in one of Mama-san’s cabins. Could you possibly take some things to them?” the shopkeeper asked politely.

The conversation with Kaede had eased her mind and made her realize the extent of her foolish behavior. If the kind hearted medic could forgive the woman who killed her mother, she should bear no ill will against a young man who had been nothing but kind and respectful to her and her loved ones.

Once she had ninja’s agreement Shibata Emiko busied herself gathering any and everything she thought the two young men may find useful for the winter. The large fish Rui had given her to make up the 5 ivc difference in shoes was easily worth five times that. They had taken inventory before her husband left and she’d was marking items that would expire in two months down 50%. It wouldn’t hurt anything if some of them were reduced to cost and sent to Rui for a portion of his credit.

Author's Note: Gohan means rice, Vegeta means vegetable, kame means turtle and Niku means meat. Master Roshi is the Turtle Hermit for you non Dragonball and DBZ fans. :-)

Misato'sPenPen: Thank you for your kind words. I'm glad I was able to make you laugh.

Mysticaldragon11: I hope Mrs. Shibata was able to redeem herself. She isn't really bad; she's just older and somewhat ignorant. She lost sight of the person she knew and only saw the stereotype.
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Another Perfect Wonder