Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

All For the Sake of Pleasure	By : Kanemoshi Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Kakashi/Iruka Views: 8217 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters and did not make any money from creating this story.

Chapter List
- 42
- 43
Authoress: The final chapter!  Well...there will be an epilogue, of course! Thank you everyone for sticking with me all these years and I apologize for the long wait.  Please enjoy.  This chapter is for all of you!
Chapter Forty Three
“Iruka! NO!”
Even as the smoke of a transportation jutsu surrounded his husband, Iruka reached out, just to touch him one more time.  Just to feel Kakashi’s smooth skin, just to brush away the tears staining his husband’s face.  But he was just a bit too slow, a fraction of a second off.  Instead of brushing his fingers against the warmth of Kakashi’s cheek, all he felt was air.
“Goodbye Kakashi.”
Tears pricked his eyes as he watched the smoke dissipate.  From that final pained look he had seen in his husband’s features, Kakashi had heard him.  He knew, just as well as Iruka did, that this likely was their last goodbye.  Iruka had already weighed his options.  The chances of him reaching the house to grab soldier pills were slim to none.  Between healing Kakashi and the transportation jutsu, he had very little left in the way of chakra.  With time, he would have replenished his chakra with his husband’s energy, thanks to the seal Kakashi had placed on him what seemed like a lifetime ago.  But his time had run out.
Shifting, he tried to ignore the searing pain in his right shoulder.  He had been stupid; blinded by anger, he had not seen the katana coming towards him until it was too late to defend himself.  At first, it had just been a sharp burn in his shoulder that slowly dulled as his adrenaline kicked in.  Now, it was not so much the pain that bothered him.  It was the difficulty he was having trying to breathe.  With each breath, his gasps became harder and harder as he felt his uncooperative, punctured lung refuse to fill with air.
The taste of blood filled his mouth as he coughed, falling back against the tree mere moments ago his husband had been leaning against.  As his skin came in contact with the rough bark, his back exploded in pain, reminding him of the multitude of injuries he had already suffered.  His fingers gripped at the uneven surface, but it was barely enough to keep him standing.
Takeshi.  Once, years ago, that name would have been like any other.  But now, having learned of Kakashi’s past, those few syllables were a death sentence.  Iruka almost wished he did not know the name of his husband’s attacker.  Perhaps then he would have considered the possibility of retreating, of using what little energy he had left to race towards the house and try finding the damn soldier pills that would allow him to transport to safety.  If it had been anyone else, he may have weighed that possibility.  But Takeshi?  The man who had once captured his husband, brutally tortured and raped him, leaving him with such deep scars, they were visible even to this day?  The man who had nearly taken away Kakashi’s chances of fatherhood?  The man who had now stolen the lives of two of their children right in front of them?
No, retreat was not an option.
“How touching.”
Iruka spun at that deep, raspy voice.  He did not recognize it, but it was one that immediately put him on edge and made his stomach twist.  Looking up, he saw a cloaked figure move out of the shadows.  Previously, the stranger was merely a blur of black as they traded a flurry of blows.  Now getting his first good look at their attacker, Iruka swallowed heavily.  What first struck him was the man’s height; he was easily two full heads taller than Iruka, making him the tallest person he had ever met.  Next, was the sheer size of him. He was broad, from his massive shoulders to legs that were like tree trunks.  His very arms were so heavily corded with muscle that Iruka knew the giant could snap him like a twig.  Along with his long, black cloak, he wore standard shinobi garb: sandals, dark pants and a matching dark top that left his arms fully exposed.  A katana sheath was tied to his waist and a kunai pouch rested against his right thigh.  Watching as the man pulled back the hood of his cloak, Iruka knew he would never forget that face as long as he lived.
Dark, evil eyes stared at him with a hunger that made Iruka shiver.  Those orbs were deep set in a face that was far from handsome.  His features were too harsh, his nose too large, his lips too thin.  But what seemed most grotesque of all were the four parallel scars running diagonally down his face.  Iruka did not have to be close to know that those marks were deep.  Iruka could only assume that they had once cut down to the very bone.  Though healed to a shocking white against his dark skin, they still tore through his bald scalp, his forehead, his nose, and his lips, destroying those features, ripping apart his nose, curling his lip in a permanent snarl.
Iruka did not have to think long to realize what must have caused such scars.  His stomach twisted in revulsion as his gaze traveled down those marks that were perfectly spaced apart.  If it had been anyone else, Iruka would have assumed an animal clawed at his face.  With Takeshi, he had the feeling those marks were not created by any beast’s nails, but by the hand of a young, frightened boy who had been fighting for his freedom.
“It is good to finally meet you in person, Iruka...”
The way his name rolled off the monster’s tongue made Iruka’s stomach sour.  The familiarity with which Takeshi spoke his name was enough to make his skin crawl.  Words caught in his throat as he watched the massive man sheathe his katana, not bothering to wipe the scarlet that stained the blade.  What could he possibly say?  What curse could he fling at the man who had once broken his husband?  What words could encompass his emotions towards the creature that had murdered two of his children?
Somehow, he dried his eyes, refusing to shed another tear.  He could not spare any energy, any ounce of thought, on Sonoe and Naoaki or else he would be lost.  Tears could not hinder his vision, cries and screams could not rob him of those precious breaths his body fought so hard for.  Not for what he had in mind.  His grip tightening on the kunai in his hand - his only weapon - Iruka knew there was at least one promise he could keep.
“I will kill you.”
A laugh echoed through the trees at Iruka’s words.  That hollow, dark sound made the hair on his nape stand up.  Despite the anger that burned in his belly, he felt a flicker of fear.  So far, that monster had landed several blows.  Crisscrossed marks across his back from Takeshi’s katana burned as a reminder, as did his right shoulder where he had been impaled.  Bruises and scrapes were there as well, but they were nothing in comparison to the injuries that now threatened to suck the life out of him before he had a chance to keep that promise.  In return, what had he done?  He had landed a few punches and kicks, yes, but they were nowhere near close enough to kill, or even slow down, his opponent.
He did not have the strength or energy for a long, drawn out battle, not with his injuries.  He did not have Kakashi’s speed or cunning.  He did not have the power his husband, his brother, and other shinobi were know for.  He was no genius, calculating, measuring, weighing out his odds.  He was an academy teacher.  He was a trickster without the luxury of time to lay out a trap.  But, he was also something Takeshi had not planned on.
He was a man the shinobi of Konoha knew to never piss off.
“I’d like to see you try.”
With that, Iruka somehow found the strength to push off of the tree, racing towards Takeshi.  Powered by an unholy rage, he ran at the man who had dared to harm those most precious to him.  From the widening of those black eyes, Takeshi had not anticipated his burst of energy.  He had not accounted for the speed at which Iruka came at him.  Surprise giving him the upper hand, Iruka grinned as he felt the blade in his hand meet its target.  Tearing through layers of material as though it was softened butter, the kunai did not stop until it was embedded in Takeshi’s broad chest.
An inhuman roar rang in his ears as Iruka found himself being thrown backwards several feet.  It took a few seconds for the pain in his abdomen to register as being from the powerful punch that sent him flying.  Iruka had not even seen the giant move, much less hit him with such force.
It took every ounce of strength he had to twist so that he landed on his feet. Almost as soon as he felt firm earth beneath him, he doubled over, clutching his middle as searing agony struck him.  He did not have to press down against his side to feel the new mobility his ribs now had.  And, from the pain tearing through his right side, he could only guess he had severely damaged one or more organs.
Another hit from Takeshi and his monstrous strength would likely prove fatal.
With that knowledge, Iruka stood up to his full height to watch as the giant ripped the kunai out of his left breast.  His belly fluttered with unease as he watched Takeshi laugh, tossing the bloodied kunai in his hand.  There was no immediate death proving Iruka had pierced his heart, nor was there spurting blood from the open wound to suggest Iruka had at least nicked a major artery.  The bastard did not even have the decency to pale in the slightest to show that he was heavily bleeding.
Now, with no weapon, Iruka knew there was no chance.  However impossible it was before, somewhere he had held that tiny flicker of hope that he could kill Takeshi without forfeiting his own life.  Somewhere deep within his heart, he had prayed that he would see Kakashi and Saki once again.  But now?  Now without any weapon, how could he take that monster’s life without giving his own in return?  How else could he get close enough to steal a blade?  What other way was there than to give Takeshi an opening, to let the giant close enough to steal the sheathed katana at his side or a kunai from the pouch strapped to his thigh?
All he needed would be a few seconds, just a blink of the eye.  And he knew he would get at least that.  From that dark look, filled with hatred and rage, that the giant aimed at him, Iruka knew his death would not be a quick one.  No, Takeshi wanted to take his time.  If the monster had any say in it, Iruka would be tortured before he finally met his end.
So be it.
Iruka did not feel fear as he shifted to the balls of his feet, preparing to rush towards Takeshi.  He did not feel ill at the thought of killing another being.  No, all he felt in those moments was regret.
He would never again get to watch in awe as an elite jounin crawled on the floor with his squealing son on his back.  He would never catch a glimpse of the man everyone once thought to be cold and emotionless as he watched their son sleep, his eyes filled with the very emotions others thought him incapable of.  He would never again wake up to those feather-light kisses on his bare skin.  He would never feel the deep rumbling of his husband’s laughter as he laid in those powerful arms.
He would never get to hear Saki’s first full sentence or help him write his first words.  He would never see his child off on his first day at the academy.  He would never get to feel a father’s pride as his son graduated and was promoted through the shinobi ranks.  He would never get to meet the wonderful man his son would one day become.
That thought - the knowledge that he would miss out on everything in his son’s life - was what made anger ignite in his chest, burning away the compassion he had once been known for.  His fists trembled in hatred for the man who had stolen so much from their family.
“Impressive, Iruka.”  Takeshi studied the bloody blade with interest.  “I did not expect so much...fire from you.”
Iruka watched in a mixture of morbid fascination and unease as the man began walking towards him.  Those steps were slow, calculated, but what truly frightened him was how familiar that walk was.  Every move the man made screamed of not the giant, evil creature before him, but someone Iruka knew as well as himself.  Every graceful, languid step, every shift of his hips, the slump of his shoulders, and even the way he held his head - it was as though he was staring at his husband in someone else’s body.
A smile slowly stretched across those scarred lips as he saw the flicker of fearful recognition in Iruka’s eyes.  “Kakashi never told you what village I came from.”  It was not a question, but a statement laced with so much certainty that it made Iruka uneasy.  The familiarity with which Takeshi spoke of him and his husband was more than unsettling.
“W-Where?” Iruka asked, his voice cracking as he shifted, keeping his eyes glued on the tall man as Takeshi slowly walked around him.  The man wore no hitai-ate to suggest his allegiance, nor did his features speak of any particular region.
“It was a small place, only a few hundred of us.  Kagegakure.”  The Hidden Village of Shadow. Iruka furrowed his eyebrows, having never heard of such a shinobi village.  “No one is left except me...your husband and his ANBU teams made sure of that.  First, he killed our leader, my father...others were killed during Kakashi’s capture.  Then, there was the team sent to retrieve his worthless body...an attack I barely escaped.  The rest of my village was not so lucky when they sent several ANBU teams to slaughter every living person within our walls.  Your village feared our abilities...though I doubt even Kakashi was aware of everything we were capable of...”
Iruka unconsciously stepped back as the tall man moved closer to him, close enough for him to now study the changes in his facial features as his eyes hardened in anger in a way that eerily mirrored how Kakashi appeared when furious.  As he continued speaking, Takeshi circled him with that painfully familiar gait.
“From birth, we were trained to live in the shadows.  We were renowned spies...we were treated like gods during the shinobi wars when villages would pay fortunes for any information on their enemies.  When the wars ended, we realized our power.  Why should we simply sit on the sidelines and do as others bid?  So, my father began gathering his most elite.  We trained to be the best in espionage, to become our targets’ very shadows...to live as them, to breathe as them, to hear every word, to see everything.
“Could you imagine the kind of power we would hold, knowing everything the kages knew?  Knowing every detail of their defense, of their plan of attack?  Every village secret...every personal detail of our target’s life.”
“Someone would have sensed you,” Iruka whispered as his heart raced, realizing with each pass, Takeshi’s circling path was getting smaller, moving him ever closer to the chuunin.  He was nearly close enough to reach out and touch Iruka, but the giant took his time, his steps slowing as he made another circuit.  Finally, Takeshi came to stop in front of him, his dark eyes filled with terrifying emotions Iruka could not even begin to name.
“That is where you’re wrong...a blood pact was all we needed to even have our chakra shadow theirs.  I was to be the first to test it out, but we needed someone high-ranking.  We needed a someone who had every security clearance, who was part of every secret meeting...we were not yet ready to test our plan on a kage...but an ANBU captain...that was perfect.”
A frigid cold spread through Iruka’s belly as Takeshi laughed.  Had he had anything in his stomach, he would have brought it up as he thought about the implication of Takeshi’s words.  It was always a trap.  That failed mission...it had been a trap for Kakashi the entire time.
“Y-You...”
“We started rumors of amassing an army.  The perfect bait for an ANBU captain who was said to be very cocky...taking chances no sane person would. My father gave his life for our cause...and it paid off.
“Every time I made him bleed, my bond to him grew stronger...but to complete the blood pact, he had to voluntarily draw my blood.” Iruka’s gaze flickered up to the four marks tearing across his face as Takeshi’s scarred lips twisted into a sadistic smile, revealing a perfect row of sharpened teeth.  “We just had to loosen his bindings one day.  After that, it was almost as easy as breathing to lie in his shadow, watching as he prayed for death.”
Iruka felt sick as he realized the man before him had not just tormented Kakashi for that month of captivity.  No, the familiarity with which Takeshi spoke of Kakashi, the perfect imitation of his husband’s movements...that spoke of years of following the Copy Cat Ninja.
“After he was brought back to Konoha, I heard whispers...my village had been destroyed with everyone in it.  My innocent children were butchered.  No one was left alive...those few who escaped were hunted down like animals and slaughtered.  I was all that was left...”  Hatred contorted his features into a frightening picture as he gave a smile that had no joy or happiness, only vicious revenge.  “That little bastard had cost me the lives of my people, my family...so when no one was around, I would whisper in his ear.  I would remind him of every time I fucked him bloody, every sad attempt he made of escape us, every plea, every moan...I made him remember how weak and pitiful he was.
“I lost count how many times he tried to kill himself...and would have succeeded had it not been for that moron always saving him.  Over time, it got harder and harder to break him...that bubbly idiot of his, making him want to live.”  He spat out that last word as if it left a sour taste in his mouth.
Iruka owed so much to Gai, for everything the man had done for that boy he had once saved.  How could he ever thank Kakashi’s best friend for, at one time, being the only thing that kept Kakashi alive, for bringing him back to sanity?  At least Gai would be there once again for his best friend.  Iruka was now certain he would not be returning home.  Not while Takeshi still drew breath.
“I was about to change my plans and just kill him myself...but one day, he bumped into a kid who made him a complete stammering, blushing idiot.  He started following that brat, trying to figure out why he felt all warm and fuzzy whenever he was near.” The giant sneered before letting out a laugh that made Iruka swallow heavily.  “If only he hadn’t decided on going on his fuck-fest after hearing about his sterility...I would have slaughtered his little love interest and made him watch so he knew...so he knew that he was the reason the boy was dead.  To take away everything he held most dear...that became my revenge.  So I was patient, watching, listening, learning...just waiting for him to finally fall in love so I could destroy him.  So I could take everything away from him like he did to me.”
Iruka gasped as he felt a breeze ruffle though his hair, then a warm touch against his cheek as the giant closed the distance between them in a blink of an eye.  He froze as Takeshi’s thumb brushed against his scar, his touch so similar in movement to Kakashi’s that it left the chuunin feeling sick.  Despite the fear that gripped him, he tilted his head up so that he could see those dark eyes as the tall man studied him.
Takeshi had not only learned information about Kakashi’s life.  He had years to learn to mirror the jounin’s speed and accuracy.  He had nearly a lifetime of training to match his movements so perfectly, Iruka’s body now was having difficulty reminding him that those were not his husband’s fingers on his cheek.
“Imagine my surprise to see that little boy he fell for was all grown up...”  The gentlest of touches ran along his scar.  If Iruka had to put words to the touch, he would have called it sweet had it come from his husband.  Such a caress coming from Takeshi, on the other hand, made Iruka shiver as he started to understand.  All those years ago, he had been the one who had nearly died before Kakashi’s eyes just to cause the jounin pain.
And Kakashi had never once told him about his teenage crush.  He never mentioned that he used to follow Iruka, too afraid and confused to admit his feelings the young academy teacher.  Too tongue-tied to ask him on a date.  Too nervous to even have Iruka see him.  Iruka understood why his husband never mentioned that time.  Kakashi never spoke of those months following his return other than a sentence here and there.  He would have been too embarrassed to tell Iruka that he had once followed him like a lovesick puppy, never working up the courage to approach him.
What hurt even more than his husband’s silence on the matter was the fact Iruka did not remember any of it.  He could not recall bumping into Kakashi as a teenager.  He had no memory of running into a silver-haired jounin and having his heart skip a beat when he looked into his visible eye.  No lingering curiosity over the handsome teen he had met in passing.  He did not remember anything of a chance meeting that had left such a profound impact on the man he would one day fall in love with.
“Not only did he still have feelings for you...but a child.  It was too perfect, too easy.”  Iruka’s stomach turned as he thought of all the times Kakashi slept near their son, never knowing in his shadow lived a monster, just waiting, biding his time.  Takeshi could have killed Saki without ever tripping an alarm or setting off a trap.  His chakra, so perfectly mirrored to Kakashi’s, would have left no one the wiser.  And, after how long would even his scent match the silver-haired shinobi he followed?  No, there would have been no evidence of an intruder.
A sickening knot in his stomach formed as he recalled the one time he feared for Saki’s life.  There had been no unfamiliar scent, no clues left behind, just the terrifying truth that his son had gone missing.  Had Saki truly transported himself or did the beast before him have something to do with his son’s brief absence?  Takeshi answered the unspoken question with a laugh.
“That little brat...it was too easy to take Kakashi’s form and take him.  He did not realize I wasn’t his daddy until I had him halfway to Mist, where I had some business partners who were very interested in a rumor about a child being born of two men.  They were willing to pay me quite a hefty sum for the boy, alive.  If only he hadn’t figured out how to transport himself...”
Iruka felt ill as he stumbled back, jerking his face away from the man’s gentle touch.  He had very nearly lost Saki and would have never known why.  The thought his infant child could transport himself was frightening enough, but Iruka would have preferred the innocent lie to the truth of Sakumo’s disappearance.  It pained him to know now just how close this monster had gotten to destroying his family in the past.
Kakashi had torn his past apart those painful hours when Saki was missing, trying to remember someone - anyone - who would have stolen his son for revenge.  Old lovers, enemies, mercenaries - Iruka had heard the list was endless.  But Kakashi had never once thought of Takeshi.  Why would he have?  The monster was supposed to have been killed years ago.
Kakashi had never considered the possibility Takeshi survived.  If he had, would today have turned out differently?  Would the twins still be alive if Kakashi had thought of Takeshi in calculating the risk of going into hiding for the final months of his pregnancy?  Or would he have instead agreed to bodyguards, remaining in the village where he might have been better protected?
“All these years...I have learned to be patient, biding my time.  Kakashi decided to propose...how much more would it hurt to lose his husband than a boyfriend?  Then the twins?  He was just making it better and better.  But you had to have those two brats move in...if I did anything while they were around, I wouldn’t have escaped.”
Iruka swallowed heavily at those words.  Takeshi wanted to not simply hurt Kakashi, but to destroy him completely.  There would be no healing from losing his children and his husband and knowing their murderer was Takeshi.  Kakashi, no matter what anyone told him, would blame himself for their deaths.
Takeshi would have had his perfect revenge.  He would not have to do anything to Kakashi directly. Iruka knew his stubborn, loyal husband may not survive such a loss.  Iruka’s stomach turned as he wondered if Konoha would have lost one of its greatest shinobi to his own hand or on some impossible mission Kakashi took, knowing he would not be returning home.
At least Takeshi’s plan had partially failed.  He would never harm a hair on Saki’s head.  Not as long as Iruka still had breath in his body.  He would not let the monster escape; he would not give him the opportunity to hurt Iruka’s family one more time.  With Saki alive, Kakashi wouldn’t do something stupid.  Would he?  Iruka had a flicker of uncertainty as he thought on that.  His husband was a genius, but sometimes he was an idiot of epic proportions.  Would he think, by ending his own life, he would be protecting Saki?  Without him alive, did Kakashi believe his old enemies would not come after his only surviving child?  Or would Kakashi remember what it was like to grow up as an orphan?  Would he do anything to save their son that kind of loneliness and pain?
Kakashi was strong, but was he strong enough to live for both of them?
If he survived this, Iruka was going to set some ground rules with his proud, aggravatingly honorable husband.  The first of those was going to be never leaving Saki to grow up alone as long as they had a choice.
“Can you imagine how frustrating it was to see him so deliriously happy?  Married, children...a family?  Everything he took away from me and others in my village, he got to enjoy.  But then my associates in Mist...they contacted me.  Word of Uchiha Keiko had reached them...a child with demonic abilities...who would one day have the Sharingan!  There was no way I could steal her away like they wanted - your little brat was always there, protecting her...he would have been screaming the moment I showed myself.  So my contacts told me about a rumor...a heavily shielded area your brother and his bitch created.  Because of the shields, they were never able to find it...but I could.  Someone just had to show Kakashi where it was.  It was too easy to convince him to go into hiding - a whisper in his ear, a movement out of the corner of his eye.  Kakashi’s always been the skittish one.  My plan was perfect - get you in a place where it would be just you, Kakashi, and your precious little son, too far to easily call for help, too heavily shielded for you to escape.  In return for the information about this place, I just had to lead them here.  I never asked what they wanted, but it must be something to do with the Uchiha considering how much they hate him.  Something about killing off their snake leader; I never really cared about their reasons.”
Iruka’s blood ran cold at those words.  There were still followers of Orochimaru out there.  Sasuke had worked so hard to rid the world of them; Iruka had to let him know that there was still a group of them in Mist!  He had to tell the young man that they were plotting something, planning a revenge against him.  He had to tell them that their daughter was not safe.
The brunet shifted, a hasty plan forming in his head.  He couldn’t die here.  He had to warn Sasuke; he had to smack sense into his husband before Kakashi did something stupid.  He had to live to see Sakumo grow up.  His eyes flickered to the weapons pouch strapped to Takeshi’s thigh.  He was a prankster in the past.  He had learned so many slight-of-hand tricks to entertain Naruto with when he was little and for his countless pranks.  He had learned to pick-pocket shinobi without them ever being the wiser until Iruka waved a scroll, their hitai-ate or whatever else he had stolen from them in front of their face.  He just had to distract Takeshi, just for a second.
This time, he would make sure he stabbed that monster in his black heart.
“Don’t forget, Iruka...I’ve known you as long as Kakashi has...I can read you just as well as he can.”  Iruka’s heart plummeted into his stomach as he watched Takeshi take a step back, removing the weapons pack from his leg.  His plans were dashed as he watched the pouch fly into the woods.  It would take a miracle for him to find those blades in the thick carpet of leaves before Takeshi caught up with him.
But he still had to try.  Without warning, Iruka pushed off the forest floor, racing in the direction of the discarded weapons.  He did not make it more than a few feet before he sensed Takeshi behind him.  He could hear the pounding of the giant’s feet as the distance between them lessened.  He wasn’t going to make it.
Suddenly, Takeshi was gone.  So startled, Iruka skidded to a stop and spun around.  Confusion battled with unease as his eyes sought for that dark form, but the giant was nowhere to be found.  Hesitantly, Iruka took a step towards the discarded kunai pouch, but froze when he heard Takeshi’s evil laugh echo around him.
Iruka swallowed heavily as he looked at the forest surrounding him.  It was barely dawn, the sky shifting from black to pinks and oranges as the sun slowly started making its appearance.  Though the sun had yet to rise, its light had begun to shine, creating countless shadows all around him.  “Shadows...” Iruka whispered to himself as he unconsciously took a step back.
Takeshi could have be anywhere, hiding in the shadows the trees cast against the ground.  The Nara clan could control shadows...but to become one?  To be able to hide oneself so completely that not even their energy could be sensed?  Shinobi from Kagegakure would have been able to hide anywhere, infiltrate any compound, listen in on any conversation.  Nothing and no one would have been safe.  Iruka was starting to understand why the Third would have ordered the slaughter of their entire village.
“You’re smarter than I gave you credit for, Iruka.” Though he could not pinpoint where that deep voice came from, Iruka could tell it was coming from somewhere to his left.  The hair at the nape of his neck rose; it was the only hint he had that Takeshi had emerged from the shadows.  Without any other warning, the left side of his face exploded in pain as Iruka was thrown towards the forest floor.  He did not know where he found the energy, but he somehow caught himself before he hit the ground and staggered back to a standing position.  Iruka reflexively twisted, bending backwards just fast enough to dodge a massive fist as it came towards him.  Iruka did not get the chance to breathe as he moved purely out of instinct, dodging limbs as they came flying at him.
He had sparred with his husband before.  He knew those quick punches and even faster kicks.  He had learned to never be on the receiving end if he could help it.  Iruka found he was able to just barely keep out of Takeshi’s reach.  But Takeshi was too fast for him to even attempt to mount an offensive.  Iruka did not know where he found the speed to continue jumping out of path of the man’s deadly fists and feet.  Gasping for air, he pulled on every last reserve he had as he twisted, but he was slowing.  Takeshi’s fist brushed against his side with his last punch.
Kakashi had never attacked him like this.  He had never been this relentless...this ruthless.  Kakashi could tell when Iruka had had enough and would give him the chance to breathe.  He would hit with only a fraction of his strength.  In that moment, Iruka hated his husband for ever going easy on him.  Had he known just how out of his league he was when sparring his husband, he might have been able to come up with ways around his husband’s speed - anything to level the playing field.  Instead, now he fought a man who moved identically to his husband and Iruka knew that if he made a mistake, if he was just a split second off, he would never see his family again.
Suddenly, his legs crumpled from underneath him as his back exploded in pain.  Falling forwards, he could not even find the strength to catch himself, his limbs instantaneously feeling as if they weighed a ton.  His lungs screamed for air as he gasped, unable to even breathe from the pain that now burned through him.
Iruka barely registered the cool, damp leaves against his cheek before he was rolled over.  He gritted his teeth to keep from crying out in agony as weight was put on his back, reminding him of the deep lacerations he had received.  He tried to ignore the searing pain in his chest where he had been stabbed.  What had Takeshi done to him?  Cracking open an eye and seeing a flicker of surprise on his attacker’s face was not what he expected.  Whatever had just hit him, it had not been Takeshi’s doing.
It was then Iruka realized how little chakra he had.  He used almost all of his chakra to heal his husband as best he could, then to transport Kakashi back to Konoha.  He had slowly started replenishing his stores with his husband’s chakra, though it was a slow process.  It would take hours before he would have enough energy to be able to transport himself, but it had been enough energy to start healing, or at the very least easing the pain of his injuries.
Now it was as though his husband’s borrowed energy had been sucked out of him, leaving him completely drained as the full extent of his wounds pinned him to the forest floor.  But that was impossible!  He had had a seemingly endless supply of his husband’s chakra to pull on whenever he needed it for two years now.  Kakashi had refused to reverse the flow or to remove the seal, even when pregnant.  Kakashi had explained time and again that it was such an insignificant drain on him that he barely even noticed it.  Iruka had not fought him on the matter, understanding it made him worry less knowing that Iruka was protected, and the brunet would have done anything to ease his husband’s fears.
That constant slow flow of Kakashi’s chakra into him had become such a part of him, it was painful to have that tie to his husband severed so abruptly.  But it was nothing compared to the agony of understanding why he no longer was connected to the man he loved.  From the state Kakashi had been in when he was transported back to Konoha, he would not have been able to sever their connection by voluntarily dismantling the seal.  Had it been his husband’s reserves ran out, it would have been more gradual.  The flooding of Kakashi’s energy into him would have slowed to a trickle before stopping completely.
There was only one reason his husband’s chakra did not simply stop transferring to him, but vanished completely, leaving him barely able to breathe from his injuries, much less have the strength to move.
Kakashi! No...
His vision wavered even as Iruka shook his head in disbelief.  It couldn’t be.  He had transported Kakashi to the hospital; Tsunade and Sakura would have taken care of him!  But the cold emptiness that slowly filtered through him proved otherwise.  Even as tears began to roll down his cheeks, hatred for the man who killed his husband began to burn in his chest.
“Well, well.”  Iruka focused on the man who spoke with such a lightness in his voice.  “Three down...two to go.”  As he spoke, Takeshi squatted down, his large hand moving to cup the brunet’s cheek.  Iruka could not even muster the energy to pull away from that touch as Takeshi brushed away a tear from his face.  “Too bad...I was looking forward to having a little more time with Kakashi...”
“Y-You bastard...” Iruka snarled between clenched teeth.  If only he could find the strength to lift his arms to choke the smug monster.  Takeshi laughed at his words, amused with his spirit.  “You will never get close to Sakumo...”  Of that, Iruka was certain.  If he did not return to Konoha, he knew Naruto and Sasuke would protect his last child with everything they had. Saki would never be in danger of an attack as long as he was in Konoha and, by the time he would be old enough to take missions and leave the safety of the village, his genius son would be more than able to protect himself.
Takeshi tsked as he shook his head.  “I’ve killed two of your children and your famous husband in one day and yet you still underestimate me, Iruka.  Don’t forget...I’ve had years to plan my revenge.”  Iruka struggled to move, but he could not even manage to lift his arms off of the ground, much less attack the man laughing at his feeble attempts.
In horror, Iruka watched as Takashi brought his hands up to his lips and whispered so softly, the brunet did not hear his words.  The cloud of smoke that, for a brief moment, hid the man from view warned Iruka of what Takeshi had done.  The knowledge his attacker performed a henge, however, did not prepare him for what he saw as the smoke dissipated.
The shock momentarily stole his breath as he found himself staring into a perfect copy of himself.  His double smiled, his chuckle filling Iruka’s ears.  Hearing his own laughter coming from such a monster made him sick.  “Kakashi was not the only one I have been shadowing...” A flicker of fear ran through Iruka as he watched Takeshi blushed, nervously scratching the back of his head, in a perfect imitation of Iruka when he was embarrassed.  Everything, from the smallest hint of a smile to the way he held himself and the inflection in his voice, it was as though Iruka was staring at himself in the mirror or one of his best dopplegangers.  Except this copy was not under his control, and that was what terrified Iruka most of all.
Iruka doubted Naruto could even tell the physical difference.  But Naruto would sense the difference in chakra, wouldn’t he?  His blood ran cold as he recalled Takeshi’s earlier comment about blood pacts and how Kakashi had unknowingly signed that agreement by tearing apart the man’s face all those years ago.  Takeshi had certainly drawn his blood as he opened up Iruka’s back and pierced his lung.  His gaze moved to the shinobi’s chest, where he could see a dark stain spreading across his green shirt.  Takeshi followed his gaze, a tanned hand moving up to touch the dark mark gingerly.  When he pulled his hand back, Iruka could clearly see the red on his fingertips.
Iruka watched as Takeshi smiled.  But this was not a smile that had ever graced Iruka’s face.  No, the grin that twisted his face into a wholly unfamiliar expression was filled with pure evil.  It was a look that made the brunet’s heart race and his hair to stand on end.
“Pity...I should have been more careful not to kill him...I was looking forwards to fucking that tight ass of his.  I bet he would have been so relieved to see his beloved Iruka...so broken up over the twins, he’d do anything I asked.”  Hearing those words, said in his own voice, made Iruka see red.  Bile burned the back of the brunet’s throat at the thought of Takeshi tricking his husband, making Kakashi believe that monster was him.  Offhandedly, his copy added “it’s too bad you never got to fuck him.  You would have loved it.  I never lasted long once he started screaming.”
Takeshi’s words made him sick.  If Kakashi had ever offered such a precious gift to him, Iruka would have showed him something other than the pain and fear his husband had only known before.  He would have waited a lifetime for his husband to ask him, but he would have been perfectly fine if Kakashi never made that request.  As long as he had his husband’s love, he would have been happy.
Iruka felt violated as he thought of all those private, personal moments that monster was privy to.  How could such an evil being exist?  How could he hold onto that hatred for so many years?  He couldn’t let Takeshi escape, not now realizing what his double had planned for his revenge.  If he could imitate Iruka perfectly, no one would worry about the brunet spending time with his son...they would leave him alone with Saki.  They would assume Saki’s odd behavior and cries were because of the death of his father, not that the boy could sense that the brunet who returned was not his father.  No, no one would ever think his son was in danger.  They would never know until it was too late that Iruka had been replaced by a monster.
Iruka’s eyes widened slightly when he saw his kunai in Takeshi’s hand moving towards him.  Slowly, purposefully, Takeshi began drawing an abstract pattern across Iruka’s chest, putting just enough pressure to cut away his shirt, leaving his skin bare.  Then, as he continued speaking, Takeshi began applying more pressure, the blade digging into Iruka’s skin in a seemingly random design, sometimes just enough to scratch, others enough to draw a gasp from the chuunin.  “With Kakashi out of the way...maybe I will let the boy live.  Think of what that little genius could do if raised in the right...environment.  Train him.  Make him hate your precious Konoha as much as I do.”
Rage boiled his blood at the thought of Takeshi being allowed anywhere near Sakumo.  He would never let Takeshi near his beautiful, innocent, and impressionable son.  He just needed that damn blade and a way to somehow muster up enough strength to attack the man leaning over him.
“I just need one little thing to make sure your brother doesn’t get too suspicious...”  Iruka’s gaze flickered from Takeshi’s smile to the blade as it trailed along his left arm, leaving a bloody line in its wake.  “I may look like you, sound like you...move like you.  But I have not followed you for as long as I have with Kakashi...there may be some things I make mistakes on, names or faces I do not know...that brother of yours is perceptive...he’ll eventually wonder.  Our pact will make sure Sasuke will never see through the henge.  They will never figure out my chakra is not yours.  But Naruto will, at some point, check to make sure this is real and not an illusion.”
Iruka did not get the chance to wonder what ‘this’ was.  He did not have the time to register the kunai had lifted off of his palm.  He had only a flash of unease as his heart raced before his hand exploded in pain.  Iruka could not hold back the scream that echoed throughout the otherwise silent forest.  His eyes watered as he gasped for air, finding the strength to turn just enough to look at the source of his pain and the kunai sticking out of the bloody mess that had once been his hand.
“There! Perfect fit!”  That happy statement was said with a chuckle.  Iruka’s vision swam in tears as he looked to his tormentor and the piece of jewelry that he was admiring on his left ring finger.  No longer did that silver band’s diamonds glisten.  No, every crack and crevice was now filled with crimson, giving the ring a grotesque, scarlet sheen.
His vision turned as red as the blood that stained his engagement ring.  All he knew was that there was a blade cutting through his hand and Takeshi was no longer paying attention to him.  Fueled by rage, he found the energy to move.  Before his perfect copy had a chance to register Iruka moving his left hand, Iruka gripped the warm handle, slick with blood, and pulled it from the earth.  The weight of the metal felt good in his hand, momentarily distracting him from the burning pain.  Before Takeshi realized what he had planned, Iruka moved into action.
Iruka despised needless violence; he hated taking a life.  But he felt a momentary rush of pure joy as he buried the sharp kunai in Takeshi’s chest, dragging a surprised gasp out of the monster.  Blinded by emotions he dare not even name, Iruka twisted, flipping his perfect copy onto the ground and pinning him there even as he wrenched the kunai from his chest before plunging it back into his attacker’s frame.  Every wet, thick squelch as he stabbed Takeshi was drowned out by an inhuman scream.
Iruka did not know when the henge had been dropped or when he had stopped screaming, only that he could finally see past the rage and hatred for the man beneath him.  It was then that he heard the sound of laughter, twisted and harsh.  Looking down at the large man he straddled, Iruka saw the red that stained everything beneath him. He watched in a morbid sense of satisfaction as crimson erupted from Takeshi’s chest with each rattling chuckle.
“Y-You will not s-survive...”
Iruka would have laughed at that statement.  He sat above a man who, even now, soaked the ground with his own blood.  It would not be long until Takeshi bled out.  In comparison, Iruka was badly injured, but he would heal with time - time that he now had.
The realization that he had won - that he had defeated Takeshi and survived - was a bittersweet one.  He would never meet the twins.  Those two beautiful lives were extinguished, gone as though they never even existed at all.  But Iruka would always remember.  He would always recall how the twins battled one another, kicking their poor father until he was breathless.  How he had loved feeling them move against his fingers, as though they recognized his touch.  He had loved them from the moment he knew of their existence and no length of time would decrease that love for the children he had lost.  He would always miss them.  He would always wonder who they would have grown up to be, who they would have become.
And Kakashi.  Tears blurred his vision as he thought of his husband. Even now, the lack of chakra was painfully obvious.  Perhaps he was wrong and Kakashi did inactivate the seal.  If only he was that lucky!  But Iruka knew in his heart the painful reality.  Kakashi would never break their connection, especially when he knew Iruka was battling for his very life.
Purely out of habit, he looked down at left hand.  He had loved wearing his engagement ring, admiring the piece of jewelry that stood as a reminder of everything he and Kakashi had been to each other.  But, instead of the band of diamonds, he only saw a bloody stump where his ring finger had once been.  Understanding how Takeshi had gotten his engagement ring off so easily - and the source of the burning ache in his hand - did not ease the pain of knowing the man who had given him such a precious gift was gone.
Iruka looked down to the man who, even with his dying breaths, continued to laugh.  It was a sound that tore at him.  For all he had lost today, the sound of Takeshi’s laughter was like countless stabs to the heart.  Something dark and terrible overtook him in those moments as he tightened his grip on the bloodied kunai in his hand.  Unable to stand letting Takeshi have one more single moment of enjoyment at his family’s expense, Iruka looked down at the man who had taken so much from him.
With no more than a single thought, he tore the blade through Takeshi’s neck, forever silencing the monster.  Iruka closed his eyes as a spray of warm blood hit his face, filling his senses with the taste and smell of iron.  Even as the wet last gurgles, then complete silence, filled his ears, Iruka felt no satisfaction.  He felt no joy.  He felt only emptiness in his heart for the family he had lost today.
Wiping away the gore splattered across his face, Iruka opened his eyes and looked down.  His stomach turned as he saw the blood that covered Takeshi’s body and stained his own hands a bright crimson.  The smell of death filled his nostrils as he weakly sat back on his heels, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion.  Every ragged, sharp breath he drew from his battered lungs served as a painful reminder that he could not stay here.  He had to get back to Konoha, back to what little family he had left.
Slowly, he shifted, his gaze coming to fall on Takeshi’s left hand where his engagement ring bit into the man’s much larger finger now that the henge had been dispelled.  He refused to leave behind that precious reminder of the husband he had lost.  There was no way he could get his ring over that massive knuckle.  A flicker of disgust hit him even as he tightened his grip around the kunai, knowing what he had to do to get his ring back.  He tried to pretend he was just cutting a piece of meat, but he still tasted bile as the kunai cut through flesh, only meeting a moment of resistance as he cut through the joint before he severed the digit completely.  Swallowing heavily, he fought the urge to vomit as he wrestled to pull his engagement ring off of Takeshi’s unattached finger.  Though the digit was slick with blood, the ring would not budge.
Without warning, the earth beneath him shook, throwing Iruka to the ground and sending the severed finger, along with Iruka’s engagement ring, rolling across the forest floor.  Almost as soon as he scrambled back up to look around for his ring, the sound of an explosion hit his ears.  Iruka spun in the direction of the loud boom.  He did not get the chance to wonder what had happened before a second, then a third explosion shook the forest.
The echoing crack of trees falling to the ground was deafening.  Iruka staggered as the ground continued to rumble with every explosion as they became closer and closer together until he was barely able to keep his balance, much less dodge as the first nearby tree began to fall towards him.  He nearly was flattened as the trunk came down, its bark scraping against his ravaged back as he rolled out of the way.  He continued to move as the crackling of burning wood hit his ears and heat began to surround him.  Iruka fought to regain his footing even as he had to jump back to avoid a fiery branch as it fell to the forest floor.
Somehow, he got his second wind as energy flooded into him, giving him the strength to dodge as another tree came crashing down towards him.  There was no way he could stay here, unless he wanted to be crushed by a tree or burned to death.  Chakra pumped into his limbs as he ran as fast as he could.
Iruka did not spare a thought for the source of the explosions.  His mind was focused on avoiding the forest that was crashing down around him.  His heart pounded, drowning out the sounds of the forest being torn apart.  All he could feel were his lungs screaming as he gasped for air.  His eyes stung as the air around him quickly darkened with smoke that burned his nostrils.  The smoke thickened until he was choking on the air, his throat burning from hot ash.
All that mattered was that he escape.  Somewhere in his mind, he had already run through his options.  The house would provide no safety from the explosions, much less the growing fires.  He had no idea how much of the forest had been rigged to explode or how far he would have to run to get away from the destruction.  An image flickered in his mind of the river that ran through the forest.  Water would provide some protection from the fires and the strong current would move him faster than his own legs.  That was his only chance.
Iruka ran, praying his new-found strength would not run out before he reached the river.  He did not have to wonder where the sudden influx of energy had come from.  After all this time, he recognized Kakashi’s chakra as easily as his own.
He’s alive!
Tear that had nothing to do with the ash blurred his vision as his feet pounded against the forest floor.  Takeshi had not killed him!  Words could not describe the mixture of sheer joy and pain that coursed through him.  He could see Kakashi again, but it would be a bittersweet reunion.  Together, they could mourn the loss of their children.  Perhaps it was selfish of him, but Iruka was grateful beyond words that he did not have to go through such a horror alone.
His mind so focused on his husband, he forgot about the world falling down around him for a split second.  Iruka knew the moment he had miscalculated.  There was no click or snap telling him he set off a trip wire.  There was no sudden burst of chakra warning him an exploding tag was being activated.  There was only a deafening sound to his right, followed by thousands of burning needles ripping through his already abused skin, burning everything they touched as he was torn apart.
Then, there was nothing.
XXX
Kakashi groaned as he slowly came into consciousness.  His head felt like it was splitting in two, nausea stabbed at his belly, and his entire body ached as though he had been run over.  He bravely opened a sore, dry eye open and hissed as he was blinded by light.  Immediately, he shut his eye and groaned, but that did not stop his head from hurting or his stomach from twirling.  He could not recall waking up with such a bad hangover before.  Not even all his escapades years ago could compare to the pounding in his head as he buried his head back into the pillow, shutting out the bright morning light.  His actions, however, did not soften the loud chirping he could hear from outside.  With every happy squawk, he ground his teeth as the high-pitched sounds sent spears of agony through his head, forcing him to bury his head even further into the pillow.
After a few minutes, he worked up the nerve to pull his head out of his pillow before he suffocated himself.  Slowly this time, he cracked open his eye and surveyed the empty room.  Finally, his gaze settled on the nightstand, where a small pill bottle and a glass of water sat waiting for him.  Clumsily, he reached for the bottle of aspirin, his body too weak and sore to do more than tip the bottle over and watch as it rolled off the nightstand and onto the floor.
He was about to curse under his breath, but fell silent when he noticed the white gauze covering his knuckles.  Slowly, as to not aggravate his headache further, he glanced to his other hand and saw a matching bandage.  Clenching his fingers into fists, he could feel the skin of his knuckles pull painfully, a reminder of his violent tirade last night.
Last night.
His cheeks warmed as he recalled how he spent his night.  He had not been so drunk that he had forgotten the ghost of his husband making love to him, then passing out on the floor.  Which begged the question: how did he get into bed?  It only took a moment of thought to realize that one of his ex-students must have been the one to leave him aspirin and to bandage his torn knuckles.  Judging from the neat, professional look to the bandages, Naruto certainly had no hand in it.  So either Sasuke found him on the floor or Kakashi had passed out in the bed, the rest of his night being just a part of the illusion his Sharingan had created.  He did not know which was worse.
As if to torture himself further, Kakashi mustered up the strength to turn and look at his husband’s side of the bed.  It was untouched, not a single wrinkle or crease to suggest anyone had laid there.  He trailed his fingers over Iruka’s pillow, the satin cool against his fingertips.  Last night really was all just a dream.  Why else would Iruka not be there when he woke up like his husband had promised?  Why would there be evidence, in the form of a cold pillow and pristine sheets, that no one had slept next to him?
Though he fully expected it, the proof that last night was just an illusion stabbed at his heart and twisted his stomach into knots.  Kakashi closed his eyes as his vision watered, but a traitorous tear still escaped, quickly soaking into his pillow.  He took a breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob as a spear of pain burned in his chest where his heart had once been.
Iruka truly was gone, and last night was just his Sharingan’s way of helping him find peace.  And, perhaps years from now, it may prove to have helped.  But right now, he hated his transplant for giving him Iruka, then ripping him away.
He gasped for air as he buried his head back into the pillow.  All he wanted was a reprieve from the pain and sorrow.  He wanted to be assured that things would get better, that with time his heart would not ache with each tiny reminder of his husband.  He wanted proof that life would go on.
But how could he when Iruka had been what made his life worth living?  Before ‘Keiko’ had bumped into him in the bar that night, he merely survived to fight another day.  Sometimes, his lonely existence brightened when his friends demand he spend time with them.  He had grown to crave the infrequent invitations to visit with his old genin team. At least with them, he felt alive for a little while.
His life had changed so drastically when he ran into that siren.  He had been an idiot to think he could have just one glorious night with that beautiful brunette.  He craved ‘her’ touch, the sound of ‘her’ voice.  He was stupid to push Iruka away when he came to him, pregnant.  All the time he wasted, stubbornly denying Saki was his son!  Though he could never make it up to his husband, at least he used to have the chance.  What now?  He would bear that regret for as long as he lived.
Damn Iruka for showing him just what he had been missing his entire life: love, a family...someone he trusted wholly and completely. He could not go back to who he had been before he met Iruka.  For a moment, anger burned in his belly towards the man who had given him everything he could have ever asked for, only to rip it away.  In the last two years, Kakashi had changed so much for his family.  Gone was the hard man who could not stand to let anyone close to him, the person who preferred quiet solitude to the company of others.
He all too quickly came to crave his lover’s touch.  He discovered how much he enjoyed having that warm body to sleep next to, even when Iruka stole all the blankets or pushed him to the corner of the bed.  The times his husband cutely snuggled up to him in his sleep made it all worth it.  He learned the simple pleasure of waking up to the smells of breakfast or coming home after a mission to someone who had missed him.  He adored watching Iruka with Saki.  The sound of his voice as he hummed a lullaby, his laughter as they played.
Iruka was not simply a part of his life.  His husband had seeped into every corner of his being.  Kakashi would be hard pressed to find something that did not reminded him of the man he had lost.  How could he go on when Iruka had been his husband, his lover, his best friend, the father to his children...his everything?
He had no idea how long he lay there, trying to find a way to put his life back together as useless tears ran down his cheeks.  Giving up on that, he made an attempt to fall back asleep, but could not so long as his head throbbed with every soft noise that hit his ears.  Eventually the chirping of the birds outside his window softened, allowing his heightened sense of hearing to pick up the melodic patter of falling water.  He cracked an eye open to look outside, fully expecting to see rain tapping against the window.
He was met by the bright rays of a sunny day.
Slowly, he picked his head up, focusing his attention on that faint sound as he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.  What was that noise?  When he finally recognized it for what it was, tears filled his vision.  He could never forget what running water sounded like.  How many times had he been lulled back to sleep that wonderful, soothing noise?  How often did he simply lay there, blown away by the domestic turn his life had taken?  Gone was the hardened shinobi who slept with one eye open, refusing to let anyone close to him, replaced by a man who was content to wake up to the sound of his husband showering.
Hope blossoming in his heart, Kakashi ignored his countless aches and pains as he scrambled out of the bed.  He staggered as he stood up, his sense of balance still affected by his binge drinking.  Silently demanding the room stay still, he somehow made his way across the bedroom, only losing his balance once as he banged his hip into the dresser.  His heart pounded in his chest as he reached the closed door.
He did not remember closing the bathroom door last night.
Could he be so lucky?  Or was his Sharingan just toying with him again?  His heart raced as though it was about to beat out of his chest as he struggled to gasp for air.  His hand shook as he touched the door.  Was he just imaging it or was the wood warm to the touch?  With the gentlest of pressures, he cracked the door open and was immediately hit with a wave of steam.
Iruka always loved his hot showers.
His throat tightened with unnamed emotions as he stepped into the humid room.  His gaze immediately focused on the shower curtain.  He watched as steam rolled over the top of the dark blue fabric.  Damn his Sharingan!  There were far too many times he would walk into the bathroom with his unnatural eye uncovered as he indulged in the simple pleasure of sneaking up on his husband in the shower.  Iruka always squealed, blushing furiously as he modestly tried to cover himself up, as though Kakashi had never before seen every magnificent inch of him and copied that glorious form to memory.
Kakashi’s body took on a mind of its own as he found himself standing before the shower, his trembling hand reaching out to touch the material like he had so many times before.  His heart raced uncontrollably, the blood pounding so loudly in his ears that he could barely hear the sound of the shower running.  Just before he pulled the curtain open, he froze as terror gripped him.  What if this was just another illusion?  Could his heart take it?  He doubted it.  But what if his husband was on the other side?  What if Iruka had somehow survived?  What if he had come back home?  Kakashi did not know when the tears began to fall, only that he tasted saltwater and his vision wavered.
Suddenly, there was a sharp squeak, then the sound of running water was gone.  There were so many emotions running through him that they threatened to strangle him.  Breathless, Kakashi back-pedaled until he hit into the vanity, which he immediately gripped for support before he fell over.  He found the ability to breathe again as a tanned hand reached out from the shower.  Slowly, that achingly familiar hand pulled the curtain back, revealing a sight that would forever be etched in the jounin’s mind.
Rich bronze skin, pink from the hot shower, filled his vision.  He watched as rivulets of water dripped down a chiseled chest, those trails taking on a red shade as they rolled down his torso.  Kakashi gasped as his eyes were met with the unfamiliar sight of countless wounds marking a once flawless body.  Kakashi clutched the vanity behind him as his heart raced and his breaths became shallow even as his husband’s gaze quickly shifted from the floor up to his face.
“Gah! How many times have I told you not to sneak up on me!”
God, how he had missed that embarrassed squeak!  Damn his Sharingan for torturing him, for making him want to believe all of this was real.  That was Iruka’s voice that filled his ears.  Those were his gentle, loving eyes that seemed to caress his skin with their concerned glances.  That was the smell of Iruka’s favorite soap that tickled his nose, reminding him of the few times he woke up early enough to slip into the shower behind his oblivious husband to touch and tease his brunet until he convinced Iruka to call in sick so Kakashi could show him over and over again just how much he loved his partner.
“I-Iruka?”
A wave of dizziness hit him even as he tried to convince himself that the man before him was not real.  How could he be?  Iruka was gone.  That fact did not stop his heart from nearly stopping when he felt a ginger touch against his arm.  Those warm fingers were no illusion.  They couldn’t be.  They seared his skin, hauntingly familiar, but at the same time unlike anything he had ever felt before.  Never before had Iruka’s touch made his heart ache and his stomach twirl like it did now.  Kakashi could not break his gaze from those gentle chocolate orbs that were filled with the seemingly impossible mixture of happiness and sorrow as the first tears slipped down Iruka’s cheeks.
A lifetime of violence and pain did not prepare him for the emotions that tore through his heart as warm, damp fingers brushed against his cheek in the sweetest caress he had ever experienced.  Agony in case Iruka vanished before him, proving that it was just another illusion crafted by his damned eye.  Hatred for Obito’s gift that would torture him for the rest of his days.  Terror that he had finally snapped; that he would hallucinate his dead husband for the remainder of his life.  But there it was, a tiny flicker of hope that refused to be extinguished.
“What’s wrong Kakashi?”
That single question was what broke him.  It was not the gentle touches on his bare skin, nor the worry in his husband’s eyes.  It was not Iruka’s unique scent or the sound of his voice.  It was the way his lover whispered his name like a prayer.  It was the emotion in those few words.  It was the concern, the sadness and joy, the possessiveness, the fierce desire to protect him from any harm. Most of all, it was the love that Kakashi knew the Sharingan could never replicate this perfectly.
Traitorous tears trekked down his cheeks as he gasped for air.  His heart raced, and his blood pounded in his ears, drowning out all other noise.  His vision wavered and dimmed as he stared into beautiful, compassionate eyes he thought he would never see again.  The world around him spun as he admitted to himself that miracles did exist.  Even as his weak legs gave out and he fell, a smile graced his face as he slipped into unconsciousness.
He’s alive!
XXX
Iruka tightened his grip around Kakashi’s arm in attempts to steady his suddenly trembling frame.  He would have continued asking Kakashi what was wrong, but he could see the blood quickly draining from his husband’s tear-streaked face.  For a moment, his heart seemed to stop as the powerful jounin fainted without further warning.
Even moving with all the speed Konoha’s shinobi were known for, he barely caught his unconscious spouse before he fell to the floor.  He hissed in pain as Kakashi’s dead weight pressed against his ravaged chest.  Awkwardly, he lowered them to the cool porcelain tile.  He held his husband’s head against his chest, for the moment ignoring the pain that the gentle pressure of Kakashi’s cheeks against his skin caused.
Looking down into his husband’s pale features, he winced.  He could only imagine what kind of hell Kakashi had lived through since returning to Konoha.  Kakashi’s naturally light complexion was now colorless, his skin cold and clammy.  As much as he wanted to keep Kakashi in his arms, to protect him from any more harm and to reacquaint himself with every inch of his lover’s body, he did not want to bleed all over him.  Shifting, he reluctantly pulled Kakashi away from his chest, settling his head in his lap.  Though his legs had their fair share of injuries, they were nowhere near as deep or bloody as those to his torso.  Glancing down at his chest, he winced at the physical reminder of what he had somehow survived.
An hour-long hot shower had done little to ease the pain; if anything, his agony had increased a hundredfold as the scalding water reopened his wounds.  Soap had been absolute torture, but at least he had cleaned out most of his injuries.  Studying his torso, he was not surprised to see the crimson rivulets running down his soaked skin.  The blood was not enough to cover up the fact nearly every blister and break in his skin was surrounded by an angry pink, revealing that they were badly infected.
A few days wasn’t enough time to develop such infections.  A week or more, maybe, but best Iruka could figure out, it had only been three or four days.  He had woken up on a river bank with a splitting headache and his body torn apart, burned, and bleeding, but he was alive.  It had taken two days to muster up the energy to heal himself enough to even consider moving.  It was another day before he was able to manage a transportation jutsu, infinitely thankful he was outside his brother’s shields.  He would not have been able to transport himself back home otherwise.
Iruka brushed a finger against his husband’s cheek as he watched color slowly return to Kakashi’s face.  Whatever he had been expecting when he returned home, it had not been his drunk husband demanding to be uke for the first time in their relationship.  Not that he was complaining!  A fierce blush warmed his face as he recalled last night.
After Kakashi had fallen asleep, he had cleaned up and put his slumbering spouse in bed.  He had bandaged his husband’s hands that were torn apart for some reason.  It was not until Iruka went downstairs for something to eat and drink that he understood where those bruised and bloodied knuckles had come from.  It had taken several hours for him to sweep up the broken glass and splinters throughout the house.  He knew Kakashi well enough to understand why every mirror in the house was shattered.  He could only imagine that his husband blamed himself for losing the twins and could not stand to look at his own reflection.  Yet that did not explain the furniture that was decimated.  Though confused, he cleaned it up all the same until the house was nearly empty, having lost almost everything that had once made it into a home.
After the hours of cleaning, he was exhausted, but he could not rest.  Every time he closed his eyes, he was haunted by the monster he had killed.  His vision filled with the last moments of Takeshi’s life, his ears filled with that evil laugh, then the sound of gurgling as Takeshi drowned in his own blood.  He could still feel the blade tearing through his neck, then the splatter of warm liquid as he was showered in blood.  The taste of Takeshi’s blood on his lips and its smell filling his nose were all too real.  No, Iruka had not slept at all.  Instead, he had sat there next to their bed, watching Kakashi sleep, until the first rays of light shone through the window, revealing a new day.  But what kind of day it would be remained to be seen.
He had lost two of his children, but he still had a son and husband to live for.  He did not have to wonder how Kakashi had fared from the loss of the twins.  Seeing Kakashi last night told him just how hard his husband had taken their deaths.  The funeral.  Iruka had not been expecting that.  How could he have missed it?  They had buried them after only a few days?  Why had they not waited until he returned?
Which begged the question: why had no one come looking for him?  Iruka did not expect to wake up back in Konoha, but he had thought someone would have stumbled across him over the past few days.  Wouldn’t Naruto and Kakashi have demanded search parties scour the forest day and night until he was found?
Iruka looked down at his husband’s face, which had changed drastically since he had last seen him.  It was as though Kakashi had aged years in a matter of days, but given the events of the last few days, it was understandable.  He should not have had to go through everything alone.
Slowly, he traced his husband’s features with a delicate touch, trailing his fingers down his jaw to his scarred neck as he watched his husband for any indication he was coming around.  Iruka nearly jerked his hand back when he felt something rough circling Kakashi’s neck.  Though his fingers recognized the warm metallic feel of a chain, it did not register in his mind until he saw the strand of silver.  Kakashi never wore necklaces; with the history he had, it was no surprise he hated having anything tied around his neck.
Iruka’s fingers slipped under the delicate chain, moving along the metal until he felt the small pendant sliding along the necklace.  Furrowing his eyebrows at the unusual shape, Iruka looked away from his husband’s face to the roughly spherical object he held in his fingers.  Though it was a warped, melted mockery of what it had once been, Iruka recognized his engagement ring instantly.
Shocked at the sight of his ring around his husband’s neck, Iruka did not move when he felt a warm touch against his cheek other than to look up into a mismatched pair of eyes.  He watched as those orbs filled with tears.  “Please tell me you’re real...”
Iruka could see the hope, mixed with fear, in his husband’s face.  Bringing his hand up to touch the trembling fingers against his cheek, Iruka could only wonder what Kakashi was talking about.  “Of course I am,” he replied softly as he held his husband’s hand, reveling in the feel of his touch.  In those minutes when he thought Kakashi was dead, the thought of never feeling Kakashi’s hands against his skin made his heart ache.  Imaging a future without his husband’s dual-colored eyes filled with love tore at him.  A lifetime without Kakashi’s gentle, calming voice, his infectious laughter...
When he had dragged himself home last night, it had been out of habit.  Somewhere in his mind, he had the rational thought that his husband, mere days after nearly dying and losing two of their children, would be at the hospital.  But he wanted to go home and it was where his transportation justu landed him, right in front of his broken husband.
“P-Prove it...”
Iruka furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at his husband’s words.  ‘Please tell me you’re real?’ Iruka thought about those words and the sheer emotion behind them.  Whatever he had missed in the last few days had rocked Kakashi to the very core.  Then again, after everything that had happened, it was no wonder his husband was mistrustful.
Bowing his head, he gently kissed his husband’s lips.  He kissed the man who had stolen his heart, who had given him a family and a home.  He kissed the teenager who had a secret crush on him so many years ago, who had all innocence ripped from him, but still had it in his heart to love.  Most of all, he kissed person he had been fully prepared to give his life for with only one regret - that they would not have all those future moments together.
Iruka did not know when Kakashi shifted so that he was straddling him or when his husband’s hand left his face to weave his fingers into Iruka’s hair.  All he knew was that Kakashi deepened their kiss as he rocked his hips, slowly grinding against Iruka’s member.  The brunet whimpered as his husband teased him.  Iruka slid his hands down his husband’s bare back, tracing every familiar hill and valley of his scars, every curve of the powerful muscles that trembled under his touch.  Dropping his hands further, he gripped his husband’s firm backside, guiding those undulating hips as he matched Kakashi’s grinding.  A smile tugged at his lips when his husband groaned into their kiss. Memories of last night flashed through his mind with each seductive movement.  It would be all too easy to bury himself inside his all-too-willing lover.
Any thoughts of moving to the bed where he could properly make love to his husband fled his thoughts when Kakashi’s grip tightened in his hair, sending spears of agony through the left side of his head.  Hissing, he flinched, which only served to tangle his husband’s fingers in his damp hair and accidentally pull, momentarily blinding the chuunin with pain.
“Iruka?” Gingerly, Kakashi unwound his fingers from his husband’s hair and nearly jerked back when he saw the crimson staining his hand.  “Baka!” he cursed as he forced the brunet to turn his head so he could look at the deep cut that was almost completely hidden by hair.  He winced as he carefully brushed away the strands that were not simply damp due to his recent shower.  Revealing the massive gash that stretched from  his temple to behind his ear, he could see that even now, it continued to slowly ooze blood.  With little more than a thought, he held his hand over the wound and healed it.  As soon as the skin - and the bone beneath it - knitted back together, Kakashi fell forwards as a wave of dizziness hit him.  Gasping for air as though he had just raced Gai around the village twenty times, he rested his head against his husband’s shoulder.
“Baka,” Iruka parroted back to his stubborn spouse who was exhausted and chakra depleted even before using a healing jutsu.  Insane, stubborn jounin! Iruka grumbled under his breath as he shifted his husband in his arms and somehow mustered up the energy to stand up and carry his semi-conscious partner back into the bedroom.  Before Kakashi tried to heal the rest of his injuries, Iruka tucked his husband back in bed.  He swooped back into the bathroom to towel off, glad to see that his remaining wounds had stopped bleeding for now, then dressed before his horny spouse got any ideas about continuing their earlier activities.
By the time he sat down on the edge of the bed, the color had once again returned to Kakashi’s face and his husband was eyeing him with mixed emotions.  Curiosity, confusion, unease...and, though his husband tried to hide it, there was love and joy in those mismatched eyes.  “What?” Iruka had to ask as he dropped his gaze to the floor.  Not once did Kakashi’s eyes betray any hint that he blamed Iruka for what happened.  Not for an instant did the brunet feel the same hatred and disgust that he felt towards himself.  It was his fault; he should have never let Kakashi go off alone that night.  He should have been able to protect his husband and children.  Because of his weakness, he had lost two of his children before they even had a chance to live.
Iruka felt the bed dip as his husband shifted.  He did not look up until Kakashi’s gentle but demanding touch forced his head up.  “Last night was...the best night of my life.”  Iruka could not help but smile when he saw the embarrassed flush of his husband’s cheeks.  What seemed like a lifetime ago, he would have loved to tease his normally unflappable spouse.  Instead, Iruka turned his head, brushing his lips against Kakashi’s wrist.  His whiskers scratched at the sensitive, scarred skin and Iruka was rewarded with a sudden gasp of air.  Maybe he should keep the beard a little longer.
Iruka would have continued nuzzling his husband’s wrist, but froze when he caught a glimpse of the dark scar stretching across his husband’s abdomen.  He had winced when he revealed it while removing the blood-soaked bandages last night after Kakashi fell asleep.  But now, in the light of day, it was enough to bring tears to his eyes.  Gingerly, he touched the edge of the scar, wishing he could feel the twins kick just one more time.
How could Kakashi be acting so...normally?  For a moment, it had almost been as though his husband had not buried two of their children yesterday.  Iruka hated himself for even feeling an instant of amusement at Kakashi’s earlier admission.  How could they smile so easily after losing so much?  Was it selfish of him to want a moment of joy to celebrate that his husband was alive, that he himself survived?
Suddenly, he found Kakashi in his arms, his head resting on Iruka’s shoulder.  Iruka’s eyes watered as he held his husband, gently stroking his back.  He felt a wetness soaking through the thin material of his shirt as his husband’s shoulders shook.  Without warning, his husband pulled away and Iruka was surprised to see a grin on his beautiful face.
“We have to go to the hospital.”  Iruka jerked back at his husband’s abrupt statement, said with more than a little bit of joy.  Blinking away tears, he eyed Kakashi in confusion.  Had Kakashi finally snapped?  If anything could have caused his husband to have a mental breakdown, the loss of two of their children would certainly do it.  Before he got a chance to ask if his husband what the hell was going on, he heard a loud gasp from the behind him.
Iruka turned to the source of the sound and could only raise an eyebrow at the two young men staring at him as though they had just seen a ghost.  He looked at his blonde brother who was far paler than Iruka had ever seen him before, then to the giggling toddler holding Sasuke’s hand as he tottered in on uneasy legs.  Iruka’s chest ached at the sound of his son’s laughter; how he had missed that happy sound!
“PAPAAAAA!!!”  Iruka had no more warning than that before his tiny son was clinging to him as though he was never going to let go and, given the events of the past few days, Iruka was perfectly fine with that.  He did not care that his son’s embrace sent spears of pain throughout his chest; all that mattered was that he was holding his precious son.  Wrapping his arms around his only child, Iruka let out a shaky breath.  He was never going to let Saki out of his sight again.  Holding his little son tighter, he felt tears pricking at his eyes.  He took a deep breath and nearly broke down when the smell of his son’s shampoo filled his nose.
“Y...Y...You’re...” Naruto stammered as the blood drained from his face.  If not for his infant daughter in his arms, Iruka had the feeling the powerful jounin would have passed out already.  Just in case, however, Iruka moved quickly and all but dragged his brother across the room so he could force Naruto to sit on the edge of the bed.
“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!?!!”
Iruka winced at his brother’s scream.  As painful as the high-pitched shriek was to his ears, he had the feeling his hung-over husband who was sitting right next to Naruto had it far worse.  And, from the cringing as Kakashi covered his ears, he had guessed right.
Startled by her father’s booming voice, Keiko let out a whimper before launching into a crying fit.  Sasuke, somehow taking everything in stride, calmly walked over and plucked his offspring out of his fiance’s arms and, with the expertise of a parent who had done this far too many times, calmed his daughter back down.  Then again, Naruto’s loud outbursts were altogether too common, so it was likely a daily occurrence for the two young fathers.
Iruka normally would have snapped back at his brother in kind, but any thoughts of yelling back at his blonde sibling melted away when he saw the tears trekking down Naruto’s cheeks.  Studying his pale brother, he could see Naruto’s face was puffy and his eyes bloodshot, as though he had been crying a great deal recently.  Glancing to Sasuke, he saw similar changes to the silently crying jounin’s face.  What did he miss in the last few days?  Iruka’s gaze flickered back to his husband, who had not said a word.  His husband’s unfocused eyes showed he was deep in thought.
“What happened after you transported me back to the village?” Kakashi asked softly.  Iruka winced at the accusatory tone to his husband’s voice.  He had no idea what he did to deserve this inquisition.  And people called him bipolar! One minute, Kakashi was grinding him and about ready to be screwed on their bathroom floor and now he was looking at him like he was some kind of stranger?!
“We fought...I...I killed him...then explosions started going off.” Iruka did not go into detail, not wanting to remember the bloody mess he had created in his anger and hatred.  Perhaps later he would ask Kakashi if it was normal - to feel absolutely nothing after killing an enemy.  To barely notice the fresh, warm blood on his hands.  To calmly listen to their final breaths.  To be unable to sleep afterwards, terrified of the memories that would haunt him.  “One went off too close to me...it must have thrown me into the river...next thing I remember was waking up on a riverbank several miles away.”
Iruka did not add how he was disoriented and had a splitting headache.  He had the sneaking suspicion his head had been cracked against a rock or two as he was swept downstream.  From the large, painful gash to the side of his head that he discovered only when it reopened in the shower, that was a very real possibility.  “That was three days ago...”
“Three days...”  Kakashi leaned towards him, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek.  Iruka felt his husband’s trembling touch brush against his beard.  He had noticed the stiff bristles last night when he was kissing his husband, but nothing had prepared him for this morning when he got his first look at himself in the mirror.  His facial hair was not just three days’ growth.  In the past, he had bent to his husband’s pleas to go a weekend here and there without shaving.  His face now did not reflect just a few days of growth.
“How long have I been gone?” Iruka asked quietly, starting to understand his husband’s mistrust and his earlier question about Iruka being ‘real.’  Could he have been unconscious for longer than he thought?  What came out of his husband’s mouth, however, was something he had not prepared himself for.
“Ten days...” Kakashi whispered.  He knew he had been unconscious for a while before he came to in the hospital, but it was not until he all but pinned Gai down that his friend admitted just how many days it had been and how long the search teams had been out there, looking for his husband’s body, only to return with his ring.  Three days they had sifted through the ash and charred remains of the forest while Kakashi remained unconscious.
Iruka was stunned into silence.  Could Kakashi be telling the truth?  Could he really have been gone a week and a half?  Perhaps he hit his head harder than he thought and his memories were warped...or could he truly have been unconscious for a week before coming to?  The first option sounded more plausible; it would not be the first time he was hit in the head and his short-term memory temporarily suffered.  Thanks to his little brother, he knew that experience all too well.
Ten days.  That would explain the thickening beard and his infected wounds.  It would also explain why he was so ravenous last night after putting Kakashi to bed.  A jolt of pain hit his chest as he realized it was not just a week of his life he was missing.  It was a week and a half that Kakashi was left to mourn their children.  A week and a half that Kakashi had to try figuring out how to live again.
“Is it really you?” Iruka turned at his brother’s question, that soft, almost childish voice tugging at his heart.  Those wide, blue eyes studied him with an intensity that was more than a little unsettling.  His words, however, were what struck Iruka more.  So much like Kakashi had earlier, his little brother was questioning if he was real or not.
Iruka’s gaze flickered down to his destroyed engagement ring hanging from his husband’s neck.  Kakashi’s earlier line of questioning - if he was real - was starting to make a painful amount of sense, as was his husband’s odd behavior last night.  Then there was his softly sobbing brother and Sasuke’s tears.  His eyes widened as he looked back up into his husband’s strained features.  He had been with Kakashi far too long to not read the glimmer of emotion in his handsome face.  “You thought I was an illusion...” Iruka stated quietly, catching the barely perceivable nod of his husband’s head.
Iruka felt a gentle touch against his forearm that turned into an outright pinch.  If it was not for the tears in those blue eyes, he would have snarled at the blonde.  He was already in enough pain without Naruto adding another bruise to the mix.  He would have wondered what had gotten into his brother and the invasion of his personal space, but he was slowly starting to understand why everyone looked like they had seen a ghost and why his brother had pinched him to make sure he was real.
“But...your ring...”  Naruto’s voice was uncharacteristically soft.  Iruka raised his left hand for his brother to look at Takeshi’s handiwork.  From the sudden intake of air from the three men, not one of them had noticed his hand before. Iruka looked at his hand or, more specifically, the empty space between his third and fifth fingers.  At any given moment, his hand was a source of burning pain, but it was at least no longer bleeding.  When he had come to a few days ago, cauterizing the bloody knuckle had been the first order of business.  That had been, by far, the most painful experience of his life, to the point Iruka was not sure he would ever perform a fire jutsu again as long as he lived.
Iruka was suddenly crushed by a powerful pair of arms and lifted into the air.  It took every ounce of self-control to keep from crying out in pain as Naruto unintentionally tore open his wounds.  He would have demanded to be put back down, but he could feel the shaking of his brother’s shoulders and hear the sobs that filtered into his ears.  Each cry was like a spear to the heart.  He hated when his little brother cried; Naruto did too much of that as a child when faced with the hatred of the villagers.  But these cries were not ones of sorrow.  No, under the sobs was a giddy laughter that was impossible to ignore.
“Don’t you ever scare us like that again!” Naruto whispered into his ear, his voice harsh from emotion.  Iruka would have pointed out he couldn’t breathe due to his brother’s crushing hug, but could not take in enough air to make more than a soft squeak.
“Papa!” Iruka heard his son’s happy giggle from behind him.  He could feel those tiny arms around his neck, revealing that the little genius had moved to hang from his neck like a monkey to avoid his uncle’s crushing hug.  Iruka had missed his energetic, unpredictable son so much!  Tears filled his vision as he thought about the twins.  He could not even picture their faces to remember them by.  Neither their cries nor their laughter.  Not the smell of them after a bath or their soft skin and baby-fine hair.  Everything he treasured about Saki only made it all the more painful when thinking about the twins.
Battling to keep the tears from falling, he glanced back at the toddler hanging on him.  Saki giggled as though nothing was wrong.  Iruka wished he had his son’s ability to accept the last week and a half.  Did Saki even realize he had been missing?  Did he understand the loss of his siblings?
“Iruka?” He pulled his gaze from his son when he heard Sasuke’s soft voice.  He could read the concern in the Uchiha’s dark eyes.
“I miss them...” Iruka whispered softly as he glanced over to his husband, wondering how Kakashi was handling their loss.  When they were alone again, they could talk, but he did not want to bring up his husband’s emotional state in front of Naruto and Sasuke.  The two young jounin were part of their family, but something like this was much more private.
“Go see them,” Sasuke replied with a shrug of his shoulders.  Iruka stared at the Uchiha in disbelief, in that moment hating the jounin for his nonchalance.  If only it was that simple!  Iruka wanted to feel his children in his arms, not stare at their graves!  Hearing his husband cough, he turned to look at the man he loved.  Kakashi slowly moved, standing and walking towards him with all the grace of a predator.  Iruka swallowed heavily, recognizing the possessiveness in his gaze.  If they were alone, Iruka knew his husband would have all of his clothes off and have him on the bed in less than a minute.
“I was getting to that when you two idiots barged in...”
“Idiots?! I brought you breakfast, you ass! See if I try being nice to you again!”
“You don’t have to yell, I’m right in front of you!!”
“Y-You have a hangover!”  Peals of Naruto’s laughter filled the room as Iruka watched the loud exchange between his brother and husband in confusion.  How could they all act like two of his children hadn’t been murdered only a short while ago!?
“Get out...and leave the food!” Kakashi grumbled between growls as he folded his arms across his bare chest.  It was obvious he did not care that he wore not one stitch of clothing as he glowered at the blonde.
“Pissy...” Naruto, ever the immature one of their troupe, stuck his tongue out at his brother-in-law.  And this creature was a father and the future Hokage.  If not for the hole in his heart and the odd turn of events this morning, Iruka might have smacked his brother upside the head.  Instead, he only stared at them, unable to muster any words, as tears trekked down his cheeks.  All of this was too much.
“I-Iruka?”  The concern in Naruto’s voice was enough to get Kakashi to shift his gaze back to Iruka’s face.  In the blink of an eye, Iruka was in his arms as the brunet broke down sobbing.  Iruka did not know where the tears came from - he could have sworn he had run out of tears after all those he had shed over the last few days, but somewhere, he found one last reserve as he cried for the children he would never know.  For the lives they would never lead.  For the futures Sonoe and Naoaki had lost.
“What’s wrong?” Iruka shook his head, refusing to lift it from his husband’s shoulder at those gentle words.  Kakashi’s question went unanswered, but from how Iruka clung to him, he could start understanding.  It was not too long ago that he had felt such pain of loss, how could he not recognize it in his husband?  When he realized what was making Iruka cry, Kakashi brought his hands to his husband’s cheeks, forcing the brunet to look up at him.  Even as his thumbs brushed away tears, he found himself brushing his lips against Iruka’s.  How he had missed the simple pleasure of kissing those soft lips!
“The...twins...” Iruka whimpered quietly between hiccups as he tried to stifle his sobs.  Whatever he had been expecting, it was not the smile that brightened Kakashi’s features.  Nor was it the words that came out of his husband’s mouth that changed his entire world.
“They survived...both of them.”
“W-Whaa...?” Iruka stared, his mouth gaping as those words filtered into his head.  “But...the funeral...” Kakashi said he was at their funeral last night...he said Takeshi had killed them...
“When they only found your ring...we thought...you were gone...” Kakashi struggled to keep his voice even, but his words wavered as he admitted they believed his husband was dead. Even though his beautiful brunet was standing right in front of him now, it was still painful.  His mismatched eyes focused on his husband’s face as he copied the image before him.  Though bruises, burns and cuts marred Iruka’s features, he had never looked more beautiful than right now.  “The funeral...was for you...”
Though he had started realizing his family believed him to be dead, nothing could have prepared him for such an admission.  His funeral.  Kakashi had been at his funeral yesterday.  Iruka could not hold it against Kakashi for drinking to the point he thought he was hallucinating his supposedly dead husband.  His husband had spent a week and a half believing he was a widower.  It was no wonder Kakashi had destroyed almost all the furniture they had picked out together, shattering mirror after mirror, unable to face himself.  Kakashi was unable to stand any reminder of their happy life together.
“But last night...”
Kakashi recalled the previous night in perfect detail thanks to his Sharingan.  He replayed the night from beginning to end, and the memory aroused him to the point, had Naruto and Sasuke not been mere feet away, he would have happily repeated their evening over and over.  But then he thought on the few words they exchanged and put himself in Iruka’s place, assuming their children had been killed.  Was it any wonder Iruka had not realized until now that he was a father to three beautiful children?
As though that realization finally hit his brunet, Iruka gasped and his eyes filled with new tears, not of sorrow, but of joy.  The smile that graced his face was infectious as Kakashi let out a laugh before he swept up his husband in his arms, peppering his face in kisses.
“They’re alive?” Iruka whispered in awe as though not yet able to fully believe such a miracle.  Kakashi set his husband back down when Iruka fell silent, his features filled with so many emotions.  Hope, excitement, joy, but there was also uncertainty, even fear, darkening those chocolate orbs.
“A-Are they okay?” he asked hesitantly.  The jounin did not have to be a mind reader to understand his husband’s thoughts.  Iruka was worried about the twins.  After all the times Tsunade told them that Naoaki and Sonoe, like any other set of twins, were at a higher risk of being born a few weeks prematurely, Iruka and Kakashi had been prepared for that possibility.  But there was a large difference between a week or two and over a month and a half.  Iruka did not know if he could take the heartbreak of watching them struggle for life.  He would not survive if the unthinkable happened and he got to meet his children only to have one or both of them cruelly ripped away from him.
Words could never describe what Kakashi felt every time he held his children, trying to imagine what his life would have been like had Tsunade been unable to bring them back.  Kakashi did not know when he would work up the nerve to tell Iruka just how close his husband had been to losing the three of them.  Iruka had been through enough of an emotional roller coaster for one day.  Iruka glanced at him, tears filling his eyes and threatening to fall down his cheeks.
Kakashi had spent the last week and a half in a fog of uncertainty, but there was at least one thing he knew to be true: he had three beautiful children that he could watch grow up with Iruka by his side.  Kakashi only had to nod his head in response to get his husband to begin flooding him with questions.  “Where are they?  What are they like?  Who do they look like?  Who was born first?”
Kakashi could only chuckle at his husband’s excitement as that joy quickly overrode any negative emotions.  “They are at the hospital...Sonoe was born first...and, just let me go get a shower, then we can go so you can meet them.”  From the barely contained energy exuding from his husband, Kakashi had the feeling he was not going to get his shower or the breakfast Naruto had brought him.
XXX
The trip to the hospital was a blur as Iruka asked question after question about the twins.  But all of that energy disappeared the moment he realized they were at the hospital and standing right in front of the nursery.  He froze in the doorway, all of his excitement sucked out of him the instant he caught a glimpse of the quiet room.  It was as though an invisible wall stood in front of him, keeping him from meeting the two children that, until recently, he had been so certain he had lost.  For a brief period of time, they had been dead.  He had known it in his heart.  He had felt it the instant the flickers of their unique chakra had gone out.  Though it destroyed him at the time, he had admitted the painful truth: Takeshi had killed them.  It had been that realization that gave him the strength to fight Takeshi off and race back towards his husband to get him to safety.
Even now, with his powerful lover next to him and his children mere feet away, those horrifying moments replayed in his head.  The realization that he could not sense Sonoe or Naoaki as he raced towards Kakashi.  The sight of blood pouring out of his spouse, soaking into the ground beneath him.  The sound of Kakashi’s weakening voice and his gasps for air.  The barely palpable pulse beneath his fingertips as he desperately healed what he could so his lover and best friend did not bleed out in his arms.
Pain did not begin to describe what he felt in those moments when he knew that, because of his inability to protect his family, he had lost two of his children and very likely would lose his husband as well.  Self-hatred, disgust, anger, sorrow - so many emotions had run through him in those seconds that seemed to last an eternity.  Perhaps he had just missed their faint chakra signatures in the heat of battle.  But, with a hand to his husband’s belly, he knew then he could not believe that lie.  Even that close to Kakashi, he could not sense them anymore.  Gone were the fluttering movements he had loved feeling every time he put a hand to his husband’s growing belly.
He did not have to ask Kakashi to know Tsunade and Sakura had somehow revived them and saved their lives, for which he would forever be in their debt.  He could never repay the two medics for everything they had done.  And though he knew he could take a few steps and meet the children Sakura and Tsunade had miraculously brought back to life, that temporary loss still ate away at his heart.
“Iruka?”
Torn from those painful memories at the sound of his husband’s voice, he blinked until his watery gaze focused on the tall jounin holding a hand out to him, beckoning him to enter the room.  In the quick walk to the hospital, some color had come back to Kakashi’s cheeks.  Life had begun to return to his almost skeletal features.  Warmth and love filled his eyes.  Though it would take time for Kakashi to get back into shape, to regain the strength he had lost, it was obvious he would survive.  But what about the twins?
What about the two tiny children that had been born far too early?  What would happen to the babies whose lives had so violently ended, but were then somehow brought back to life?  Would they survive?  Would they grow up normally?  Would they survive past infancy?  Or would he have to lose them again?  Would he have to watch them slowly fade away?  Would he get to know them only to have them ripped from his arms just as he started to get to know them, to dream of the futures they should have had?  He did not think his heart could take such pain a second time.
His feet remained firmly planted outside the nursery.
Suddenly, there was a warm touch on his cheek, reminding him that he was not alone.  Kakashi’s mismatched eyes studied him, understanding in those intelligent orbs.  “I was terrified the first time I met them,” his husband admitted quietly, his voice cracking with emotion, as he stepped back into the room, this time gently tugging Iruka by the hand so that the chuunin stepped through the doorway.
Kakashi looked down at Iruka’s left hand in his.  It was his husband, his beautiful, loving, compassionate partner next to him.  It was Iruka’s gentle smile and adorable blush that made his heart soar.  But at the same time, the differences were painfully obvious.  It felt so different holding his husband’s hand, the missing ring finger an unfamiliar space on a hand he once knew as well as his own.  It would just take time to get used to, time they now had.
Kakashi gently pulled his husband into the nursery as he brought Iruka’s hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss against the back of his hand, careful to not put any pressure on the raw burn where his finger had once been.  All that mattered was that the love of his life was alive and their three children were right in front of them.  Kakashi did not know what he did to deserve such happiness, but he was eternally grateful for it.
“Gai told me Sonoe was just like you.  I thought, one day, I might hate her because of how much she would remind me of you...that every time I looked at her, I would remember how I failed you...that it was my fault you were gone...”
“It wasn’t your fau-”  Iruka’s words were cut off by a gentle pressure against his lips.  Kakashi did not give him the chance to take the blame.  Instead, the sweetest kiss brushed his lips, reminding him that he had not lost the twins or his husband that day.  Miraculously, they had survived and, mere feet away, were two of his children that he had never met before.
It was then Kakashi’s words fully hit him.  Sonoe took after him.  Tears pricked his eyes at that thought.  The entire walk to the hospital, Kakashi only warned him that they were small, that Naoaki was tinier and weaker than his twin.  Other than that, his husband told him nothing about them.  Iruka understood his husband’s refusal to describe them.  Kakashi wanted him to meet them without any preconceived notions; he wanted their meeting to be a surprise, just as it was the first time Kakashi saw them.
Did that mean Sonoe had the same chestnut-colored hair?  Did she have his nose or his ears?  Were her eyes the same brown as his or did she take after Kakashi and have dark blue eyes?  Did she have his temper or was she easy-going like Kakashi and Saki?
What of Naoaki?  Kakashi told him a little bit about their youngest child’s prematurity.  His voice choked with emotion and the memory of those first few days of his son’s life, Kakashi had haltingly spoke of how Sakura and their friends sacrificed all of their energy so that he had a fighting chance.  Kakashi forewarned him of their son’s difficulty breathing, of his delicate skin and even more sensitive eyes.  But Kakashi had not even hinted at what their son was like?  Who did he look like?  Who did he take after?  Iruka could not help but imagine a silver-haired little boy who would one day have that same mischievous smile Kakashi had whenever he knew he was in trouble.
Those thoughts and ones like them filled his mind, distracting him to the point he did not realize Kakashi had maneuvered him across the room and into a chair until he heard a soft mewl that tore him from his thoughts.  Softer and higher-pitched than Saki’s cries ever had been, it was still a sound he recognized and it tugged at his heart.  Instantly, his gaze shot up to his husband and the tiny bundle of pink blankets in his arms.
Iruka’s eyes filled with tears even before Kakashi bent down to carefully place their whimpering daughter in his arms.  His heart ached as her almost negligible weight settled in the crook of his arm.  The only indications he held something other than the blankets that surrounded her were her soft cries and gentle kicking of her tiny feet.  How had he ever thought Saki was small?!  Sonoe had to be half her brother’s size when he was born.
Blinking rapidly so that he could get a clear first glimpse of his baby girl, Iruka let out a soft gasp as her features filled his vision.  A crown of chestnut curls framed a tiny, perfect face that was nearly identical to his own.  Her little nose scrunched up as she let out another, louder cry that ended in a pitiful hiccup as she opened her eyes to stare up into his face with a beautiful pair of brown eyes filled with surprise.
He did not know when he began sobbing as he traced her rounded cheek with a trembling finger.  “S-She’s looks like me,” he whispered, his voice cracking with countless emotions.  Unable to look away from her precious face, he watched as she turned her head towards his touch, searching for food.  A chuckle erupted from his throat at the adorable, reflexive motion.  It seemed like an eternity since he held Saki as a newborn.
Hearing another soft, almost inaudible, whimper, Iruka somehow tore his gaze from his daughter’s beautiful face.  He looked to the source of the sound, and his heart broke as he watched his husband sit down next to him, their youngest in his arms.  Kakashi had said Naoaki was small; he did not say their son was almost small enough to fit in one of the jounin’s hands.  He warned him about Naoaki’s eyes, but that did not prepare him for the pain that speared his chest when he saw the thick bandages protecting his eyes from the dim lighting of the room.  He had mentioned that Naoaki needed a great deal of medical attention, but the sight of the tubes and wires connecting his son to equipment still tore at his heart.
Kakashi had said nothing about the few silvery-white hairs that grew from a head that seemed too large for such a tiny, thin body.  Nor did he say a word about their son’s colorless skin that matched his own pale complexion.  But he had told Iruka about their son’s strength and fighting spirit, which was clear for all to see as Naoaki’s small hand gripped his father’s finger and let out an airy cry.
“Nao.”  If he had not been staring at the two pale-haired males so intently and caught a glimpse of Kakashi’s lips move, Iruka would have never known his husband was talking to their son.  Though that single syllable was so quiet Iruka could barely pick up on them, Naoaki obviously heard his father’s voice perfectly fine as his head turned towards him.
Kakashi, oblivious to the fact he had an audience, continued whispering to his son in a quiet, soothing tone Iruka had never heard come from the powerful jounin before.  “I was wrong, Papa isn’t gone.  He came back and he wants to meet you.”  Glancing up to his husband at that admission, Kakashi blushed when he realized Iruka had been watching him.
“H-He likes the sound of my voice,” he admitted quietly as embarrassment burned his cheeks.  No one knew how much time he spent every day simply talking to his tiny son, reveling in Nao’s subtle responses.  From quieting his soft cries to tightening his grip around Kakashi’s finger, it was obvious his child heard him and, in his own way, wanted Kakashi to continue talking to him.  Perhaps Nao recognized the same tone Kakashi had used when he was still pregnant with the twins, telling them stories, of his hopes and dreams for them, or simply how much he loved them whenever he had been alone.
“Can I...hold him?” Iruka asked as hot tears ran down his cheeks.  Even before he felt Kakashi shift and place something impossibly light in his free arm, he let out a sob filled with emotion.  Happiness to hold his son for the first time, pain that stabbed at him as he realized just how small Naoaki was, terror for the possibility his son would not survive.  But most of all, he cried because of the love he felt the instant he looked down into his son’s covered face and watched as Naoaki nuzzled against his arm.
“S-So you’re the one who kept kicking me in my sleep?” Iruka’s watery question was met with an adorable snuffle.  He felt his son’s tiny legs kick from within their blanketed cocoon, a reminder of the fluttering feeling he would feel against his side while Kakashi slept curled up next to him, oblivious of his son’s energetic nightly battles against his other father.
Words could not begin to describe what he felt as he glanced between the two children he had been so certain he had lost, then to his husband.  He did not need to speak to let his husband know just how grateful and awestruck he was to be sitting there with the twins in his arms.  From the watery look of his mismatched eyes, his lover understood all too well the emotions running through him.  Kakashi scooted closer to him until he could rest his chin on Iruka’s shoulder, peering over to watch the twins as they drifted back to sleep.
XXX
Kakashi leaned against the door frame, ignoring his growling stomach, as he watched his husband cradle their tiny son in his arms.  Even after the twins woke up, Iruka had refused to let go of either of them until Kakashi made the good point Sonoe had to eat.  So Iruka had reluctantly let go of his hungry daughter so he could continue to hold Naoaki, gently touching his pale face.  Nao, still too weak and tiny to drink from a bottle, was fed by a tube.  Though it was not what he had wished for his son, Kakashi could clearly see how much Nao was improving with all the medical aid that left him hooked up to machines left and right.
It had only been a day since he had last seen the twins, but Kakashi swore Naoaki was looking better.  His skin looked less translucent, his movements seemed more energetic.  But most telling of all were the soft cries that told him his son was breathing easier.  The jounin was ecstatic to see his son growing stronger, but his heart still ached every time he saw Naoaki’s face, half covered to shield his eyes.  Tsunade and Sakura could not tell him if his son would ever see, but he was willing to accept that if it meant his son was otherwise happy and healthy.
“He looks just like you,” Iruka whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.  Kakashi raised an eyebrow at his husband’s words.  Yes, out of their three offspring, Naoaki was the closest to him in coloring.  The few fine hairs that had started to grow on his son’s scalp were nearly white.  His skin did not match his siblings’ in the rich tan they inherited from their other father either; he was even paler than Kakashi.
Kakashi pushed off of the door and moved to sit down next to his husband.  Looking closely at the baby quietly resting in his father’s arms, he could see more of Iruka in their youngest than himself, not that he was complaining.  His son, no matter how small, was perfect.
Hearing his other son’s bubbly giggle, Kakashi glanced over to the boy hovering over his sister as she slept in her crib.  Though he trusted the toddler with many things, having him hold his five pound sister was not among them...not yet.  Saki somehow understood how delicate his siblings were, so he was content to just watch them and, when he thought his fathers weren’t paying attention, he would sneak his hand into the glass encasement and let the tiny brunette hold his finger.  Her hands were so little, they could barely even wrap around one digit, but she held on with a surprising amount of strength for one so small.
Looking back to his husband and Naoaki, a smile pulled at his lips.  Words could not describe how grateful he was to have his husband back, but that was nothing in comparison to the powerful surge of emotions he felt as he glanced between his three children.  And now, he had a lifetime to watch them grow up with Iruka at his side.
“I love you,” Kakashi said softly as he leaned towards his husband, brushing his lips against the brunet’s cheek.  He tasted the saltiness of tears he doubted Iruka realized he was still shedding, which only made him love his gentle, compassionate partner all the more.
“I love you too,” Iruka whispered as he returned the gentle nuzzle, for the first time in over an hour tearing his gaze away from their son to look at him.  Kakashi smiled as Iruka’s eyes widened, his brown eyes staring at his bare face.  It was times like these that he found his husband’s obliviousness to the world around himself adorable.  They had been at the hospital for hours now and this was the first time Iruka realized he was unmasked in public.  Though he had grown accustomed to leaving the mask off at home or whenever he was with just family and close friends, today was another matter entirely.
They had walked through the village to the hospital, which served to let the entire village of gossip whores know that Iruka was alive and fine.  Over the last few hours, every one of their friends had come by the hospital to see if the rumors were true.  Everyone was so astounded to see the chuunin back from the dead that no one seemed to notice or care about Kakashi’s bare face.  Not even Tsunade or Sakura made mention of Kakashi’s lack of a mask yet.
Kakashi had not forgotten to put his mask on when they left this morning; it was very much a conscious decision on his part.  After the past week and a half of hell, filled with regret for all the things he and Iruka had missed out on and the things he would have done differently if given another chance, Kakashi was a changed man.  He no longer cared if people stared at him in lust, amusement, or awe.  He did not want to have that air of mystery he had worked so hard to cultivate in order to keep everyone at a distance.  He did not want people to think him cold and unfeeling.  He just wanted to be able to be himself, and for the first time in his life, he was comfortable with who that person was.  He was a shinobi, yes, but that was not his most important role.  He was first and foremost a father and a husband.  He was someone who loved his family with his entire being and would celebrate every day he had with them, having now known what it would feel like to lose them.
Seeing the blush on his husband’s cheeks and that beautiful smile filled with pride, Kakashi had the feeling he might never wear one of those damn masks again.
Unable to help himself, he leaned forwards and captured those lips in a gentle kiss filled with all the love he felt for the magnificent man he had been lucky enough to find.  With a groan, he deepened the kiss.  God, he had missed him!  The unfamiliar, but wholly addictive, feel of his husband’s beard scratching his skin was the most arousing thing he had ever known.  If it was not for the fact they were in the hospital and Iruka was holding their delicate son, Kakashi would have picked up where they had left off this morning.  Even now, his cock twitched at the thought of his husband inside him.
Whatever expectations he had had of his husband being dominant had been blown away by the reality of it.  Just the memory of Iruka thrusting into him, stretching him to his very limits, was almost enough to make him come.  Before he excited himself too much, he broke the kiss and trailed gentle kisses along his husband’s neck.
“I missed you,” he whispered breathlessly as he fought the urge to grope the panting chuunin and failing miserably.  Iruka squeaked as Kakashi’s hand dropped lower, cupping him.  The jounin smirked against his husband’s neck as he felt his husband’s pulse race beneath his lips.
“K-Kakashi!” Iruka’s whimpered protest was little more than a squeak as he involuntarily tilted his head back, giving his husband more access to his sensitive neck.  The jounin nipped that tanned flesh, trailing his tongue along every inch of exposed skin.  The rough texture of Iruka’s beard against his tongue and lips and the addictive taste of his skin was a heady mixture.  Unable to help himself, he tightened his grip on his husband’s cock, wrestling a gasp out of his panting lover.
“Ahem...”  Kakashi froze mid-lick when he heard a cough from behind them.  His cheeks burned as he recalled where exactly they were.  Any thoughts of teasing his husband further flew from his mind as he quickly sat back in his chair, giving one last stroke to his husband’s growing erection before pulling his hand away.  “I’m sure you two have some catching up to do, but would you mind not doing it in my hospital?”
Kakashi glanced up and his blush only deepened when he saw Tsunade staring at them with a raised eyebrow.  How long had she been there?  From the trickle of blood coming from her nose, she had been there long enough.  And people called him a pervert!
“Now that I have your attention...” Tsunade shot Kakashi a glower before she turned her attention back to the mortified brunet as Iruka sank down into his seat, as though that would hide him and make the Hokage forget that she had just caught him and his husband making out like a pair of horny teenagers.  And with his newborn son in his arms!
Iruka glanced down at his youngest offspring and saw that Naoaki was unfazed by his fathers’ outrageous behavior.  The little boy just kept breathing evenly, occasionally letting out an adorable snuffle as he shifted in his cocoon of blankets.  A quick look over to Saki and Sonoe revealed that his eldest was more interested in playing with his little sister than what his fathers were up to.
Damn Kakashi and his ability to kiss him senseless!  Before he met his aggravatingly sexy husband, he was actually a respected member of society, always polite and proper.  If someone told him a few years ago that he would one day be caught making out in public by the Hokage, he would have blushed furiously and thought them crazy.  Then again, he would have thought them off their rocker if they said he would one day marry the man who had lowered his morals so much.  Now, all he wanted was for the woman to leave so they could pick up where they left off.  Kakashi was such a tease!
“Iruka...Iruka!”  Refocusing his attention on the Hokage, Iruka flushed.  “Have you heard a single thing I said?” she asked slowly, as though addressing a simpleton.  With a sigh, she shook her head.  “Kakashi is rubbing off on you.”  Her words only made Iruka sink further into his chair; his husband certainly had been rubbing him.  That tiny shift in his chair was enough to cause friction, teasing his aching erection that had yet to go away.  Damn Kakashi...he was going to get back at his horny husband later!
“I was saying that you need to let me take a look at you,” she said as she gestured to the few gashes on Iruka’s face that were obviously infected and likely quite painful.  She did not have to have the brunet strip down to know that the rest of his body was similarly torn apart.  Whether or not Iruka realized it, he was sitting too stiffly, too still, for a normal person.  Though he did not show it on his face, he was in obvious pain, but ignored it so that he could be with his children.  He cared much more about meeting his two new children than the wounds that must be agonizing.
“I’m fine,” Iruka replied softly as he glanced down at the baby cradled in his arms.  He did not want to let go of his precious child until hell froze over.  Tsunade sighed.  And she had once thought Kakashi was the most stubborn shinobi she had ever met.  At least Iruka was still professional enough to never question a direct order...unlike his husband.
“You will be in my office in five minutes so that I can debrief you and take a look at those injuries,” she stated in a tone that left no room for argument.  Iruka grumbled, but nodded his head.  Knowing he would be there in exactly five minutes, Tsunade left the two parents to spend some more time with their children.
As soon as Tsunade left the room, Kakashi turned back to his husband, for the first time looking at him, not through the eyes of a husband infinitely happy to have his spouse back home alive, but those of a shinobi.  Almost immediately, he winced when he saw how rigidly his husband was sitting.  He realized just how pale Iruka’s face was, how tight his lips were.  Recalling this morning and the glimpse he had gotten of Iruka’s ravaged body when his husband stepped out of the shower, he all but snarled.  Iruka had not complained once since they got into the hospital that he was in pain; Kakashi had naively assumed his husband’s injuries were no longer bothering him.
“Baka! Why didn’t you say you were still in pain?!” he growled as he plucked Naoaki out of Iruka’s arms.  Putting their son back in his heated crib, he turned back to his husband.  Though Iruka glared at him for taking Naoaki away, Kakashi could see the flicker of relief in his eyes as he stiffly lowered his arms into his lap.  If not for the fact he knew Iruka as well as he knew himself, he would have missed the momentary display of agony in his eyes.
“I’m fine...” Iruka said softly as he moved to stand.  The gasp of pain barely had time to register in Kakashi’s mind before he was in front of his husband, helping him up.  Though he barely put any pressure against his husband’s chest as he lifted from underneath his armpits, Kakashi could feel the unnatural give of Iruka’s ribs as his husband weakly cried out.
“You are not fine!” Once Iruka was steady on his feet, Kakashi gingerly touched the right side of his husband’s rib cage.  He felt along the arches of bone, counting the breaks even as he cursed under his breath.  Had he known Iruka was in such pain, he would have demanded he get looked at before they went to the nursery!
“It’s just a few broken ribs,” Iruka whispered, trying to sound nonchalant, but the tightness to his voice was all too obvious now.  If not for the fact he would pass out if he tried to heal his aggravatingly stubborn husband, Kakashi would have done just that.  Instead, he could only step back, not even trusting himself to carry Iruka. The last week had taken its toll on him as well.  Kakashi had the feeling it would be weeks if not months before he felt back to his normal self again.
Kakashi watched his husband as Iruka slowly began shuffling towards the Hokage’s office.  Ever thankful that Tsunade primarily worked out of her temporary office only a few doors down from the nursery ever since the twins were born, Kakashi moved to walk beside his husband.  He glanced back at their son, who could care less his fathers were leaving the room.  Saki just kept giggling as Sonoe tugged on his finger.  His genius offspring would be fine for a few minutes.  Even as they stepped out of the room, Sakura was there, ready to watch over the three Umino children.  Out of all the medics in Konoha, including Tsunade, Sakura spent the most time with the twins.  Perhaps it was because of how hard she had fought for Naoaki’s life, or maybe because Kakashi and Iruka were her beloved teachers and had pushed her to become the great kunoichi she was.  Whatever the reason, she had a soft spot for the twins and had been happy to keep an eye on Kakashi’s children over the last week of hell whenever he had passed out from exhaustion.
Falling in step with his husband, he winced.  Now knowing his husband was hurting, it was all too obvious.  “Last night...” Kakashi replayed their night over in his head.  Yes, Iruka had been in pain when he touched the countless cuts to his torso, but he had never hinted that he was in absolute agony.  Kakashi could not help but flush in shame, wondering if, had he known just how much pain his husband was in, would he have even cared in his selfish desire to have Iruka?
“It wasn’t that bad...I was just so happy to see you...” Iruka said softly as he turned to look at his husband.  The adrenaline that rushed through him last night when he saw Kakashi, hearing his husband beg for him.  The sounds of pleasure as he made love to Kakashi was better than any painkiller.  “It only started back up a little while ago...I took some pills early this morning that wore off after a few hours and the shower didn’t help,” he admitted, not willing to admit just how excruciating the hot water on his skin had been at first.  Not to mention Kakashi would probably smack him if he told him about his cleaning spree while the jounin slept.  The only thing that made it possible for him to sweep up the mess was the handful of narcotics he had taken.
“I...I didn’t hurt you last night, did I?” Kakashi asked softly as he wove his fingers into Iruka’s right hand, squeezing gently, but never letting go.  Iruka glanced back over to him and shook his head.  Kakashi had held him tightly and reopened several wounds, but the physical pain was worth it in comparison to the boundless joy he felt having Kakashi back in his arms.  He would have hurt more had he not touched every inch of his husband, assuring himself that Kakashi was alive and safe.  It would have been torture if he did not get the chance to feel Kakashi’s heart beat against his own.
“I was so happy...I thought I’d never see you again,” Iruka whispered as he broke his gaze, looking down at the floor as his eyes welled up with tears.  “I...I felt...at one point...you were gone...”  The memory of the sudden loss of Kakashi’s warm, comforting presence in the form of a constant influx of his husband’s chakra even now forced a sob from his lips.  Iruka had not been prepared for that kind of heartache, knowing Kakashi had died.  “I thought you had died...”
“I-I did...”  That quiet admission made Iruka freeze as his head snapped up, his eyes wide as he stared at his husband.  In a way, Kakashi was glad he was unconscious by the time he was transported to the hospital.  He did not know if he could have handled watching Tsunade and Sakura trying to revive the twins.  “The twins...were gone, but Tsunade and Sakura were able to bring them back...I...I lost so much blood and went into shock...my heart stopped.  Stubborn woman wouldn’t let me die...” Kakashi said with a shrug of his shoulders, as though it was an everyday occurrence for him to be brought back from the dead.
“A-Are you okay?” Iruka rested his left hand on his husband’s chest, feeling the strong, reassuring beat of Kakashi’s heart under his fingertips.  Kakashi brought his free hand up to cradle Iruka’s against his chest, making sure not to hold on too tightly as to cause his husband’s injured hand any more pain than it was already in.  Looking down at the palm resting against his chest, he winced.  He had not taken a really close look at Iruka’s hand before.  Now he could see the angry red burns covering what little was left of his ring finger.  Kakashi clenched his teeth, recognizing those marks as a field cauterization.  How many times had he been on a mission where he needed to heat a blade and lay the fiery red metal against his skin so that he could stop the bleeding?  He hated the searing pain as he burned away flesh until all that was left was charred marks.  Worse than the pain was the smell.  But his injuries were superficial in comparison to cauterizing an amputation.  He had never had to hold that glowing-hot blade against bone, for which he was infinitely grateful.
“I’m still weak, but nothing that a few months of vacation won’t take care of.  Tsunade has taken me off missions until I want to go back...she wouldn’t let me retire.  When I thought...you were gone...I-I knew I couldn’t take missions that might leave Saki, Naoaki and Sonoe orphans...” Kakashi stated softly as he lifted his husband’s hand off his chest so he could gingerly brush his lips against his husband’s palm, avoiding the large burn that would only hurt worse if he put any pressure on it.
“Good...you work too hard,” Iruka said with a smile as he stepped closer to his husband so that he could kiss those pouting lips before Kakashi tried arguing with him.  It took all of his self-control to keep their kiss innocent.  Part of him was very thankful Tsunade was going to heal him.  His mind was already filling with ideas for tonight after they put Saki to bed.
With that, he walked the last few steps to Tsunade’s office, where the Hokage was already waiting for them.  She gestured for Iruka to sit on the other side of her desk.  Kakashi closed the door behind them before taking a seat next to his husband.  The jounin had told Tsunade what he knew about that day, but beyond being attacked by Takeshi, he knew very little.
“Start from the beginning, Iruka,” Tsunade said softly as she took a seat behind her desk, ruffling through her drawers until she pulled out a sake bottle and several cups.  Iruka tried to refuse the cup she poured for him, but she would not take no for an answer, so he found himself holding the porcelain cup, staring at the clear liquid as he let out a sigh.
“Kakashi left the house; he wanted some time alone.  I followed behind a little ways, just enough that if he needed anything, I would be nearby. Then I heard a scream.  I ran as fast as I could...but it was too late...” Iruka looked up from the sake cup to his husband.  The moment he had seen Kakashi, impaled on the katana, he could not breathe.  He could see the bloody blade sticking out his husband’s back, but it took what seemed like a lifetime to register the horror before him.  He remembered screaming as he raced towards the dark figure holding the other side of that blade, tearing him away from Kakashi.
“I...I fought Takeshi off, then came back for Kakashi...he had lost so much blood...the twins...they were gone...”  Though he knew his children were a few rooms away, the pain of losing them once was something he would never forget.  “I healed Kakashi as best I could, then transported him back to Konoha.”  Iruka looked to his husband, whose eyes were clouded over, lost in his own thoughts.
“Takeshi...he told me about his village...” Iruka swallowed heavily, not sure if Kakashi had figured out how Takeshi had survived all those years ago and how he had discovered them in a place that was so heavily shielded.  From the tightness around his husband’s eyes, Kakashi was still uncertain.  “Kagegakure...they trained to manipulate shadows...to live in them.  They had a plan to place spies in the Hidden Villages...hiding in the kages’ shadows...but they wanted to test it out first.”  Iruka watched his husband’s face as Kakashi’s jaw tensed, preparing him for the truth.  “They spread rumors about an army...they wanted to lure you...so Takeshi could become your shadow...”
Though he was a genius and, as soon as Iruka mentioned Takeshi’s village, Kakashi could start piecing things together, the truth still hit him with a force that brought tears to his eyes.  It was not the realization that Takeshi had tricked him all those years ago, that he had played right into their trap, that made him wish he could revive the bastard and kill him all over again with his own two hands.  The knowledge Takeshi was so close all this time made him see red.
“He was following you for years...he blamed you for the destruction of his village, the deaths of his children.  He wanted to hurt you...make you suffer.  He wanted to kill everyone you loved...” Iruka took a deep breath.  Knowing the pain of loss when it came to his own offspring, a tiny part of him felt sorry for the man who had lost his children.  But that did not absolve him of the crimes he committed against Kakashi and their family.  He had tortured Kakashi for years, trying to make him take his own life.  He had threatened the lives of all three of their children.
“When Saki disappeared...h-he had kidnapped him...but Saki figured out how to transport himself back to Konoha.”
Kakashi felt ill at those words.  Biting his tongue to keep from interrupting his husband, he instead tightened his hands into fists.  More than once, Takeshi had placed the lives of his children in danger.  If he had still been alive, Kakashi would have scoured the earth for the bastard so he could rip him apart piece by tiny piece with his bare hands.
“He had friends in Mist...followers of Orochimaru...they knew about Naruto and Sasuke’s hiding place.  They wanted something that was there, to get back at Sasuke.”  Iruka looked up from his hands.  From the dark look on Tsunade’s face, there was no question in his mind that she would be sending ANBU teams out to track down those evil creatures and destroy them.  Iruka had yet to speak to Sasuke, but from the anger in the Hokage’s features, she was going to tell the ANBU captain herself.  At least the entire cabin - and whatever those monsters wanted there - had been destroyed in the explosion, so there was one less thing for Sasuke to worry about.
“They told Takeshi about it, in return, he had to show them where it was when Naruto brought us there.  He...he knew just how to make you paranoid...” Iruka whispered those words to his husband and, from the tightness in his husband’s jaw, Kakashi was recalling all the times in the past few weeks he saw something in his peripheral vision, felt something touch him when no one was there, heard Takeshi’s voice in his ear.  How could he keep such a thing to himself and never once let Iruka know what kind of hell he was going through?  How did Kakashi handle such torments and keep his sanity?  How did he live with Takeshi haunting him for years?
“How did you defeat him?” Tsunade asked, bringing Iruka back to the conversation at hand.  The brunet looked back to the Hokage and gave a tired sigh as his shoulders sagged.  He had killed in the past; it was part of being a shinobi.  But he had never enjoyed the act of taking a life.  All other deaths would be ones he would regret, replaying those fights in search for a way he could have avoided killing his opponent.  His battle with Takeshi, on the other hand, was the only one in which he would not change a thing if it meant saving the bastard’s life.  Even when he tore Takeshi’s throat apart, he did not feel a single instant of regret.
“Takeshi planned to return to Konoha, impersonating me.  He could perfectly mimic my chakra...no one would have been able to tell he wasn’t me.  He took my engagement ring to make sure no one could find out it was all just an illusion.” Iruka held up his left hand for the Hokage to see just how Takeshi had stolen his ring and the medic hissed sharply at the sight of his injury.
“He was distracted...I stabbed him a-and killed him...” Iruka did not want to tell the woman that he had snapped and slit the bastard’s throat.  “Then explosives started going off.  My only chance to escape was to get to the river...I...I remember an explosion going off right next to me.  Next thing I remember was waking up on the river bank with a splitting headache.  It took me a few days to get enough chakra to start healing myself and transport back here.”
Kakashi sat silently as he considered his husband’s words.  It was a miracle his husband had not been ripped apart by the explosion; it was pure luck he did not drown while unconscious as he was swept down the river.  Iruka had likely been in that cold water for quite some time.  It was then he remembered the only time he reactivated his seal since he came to a week ago.  He had felt cold enveloping him and assumed it was because his husband was dead.  What if all he was feeling was Iruka’s body in the frigid water?  Had he considered that as a possibility, they would have found his husband quickly, having to only follow the river.  Tears pricked his vision as he wished he had not given up on his husband so easily.
“You were very lucky,” Tsunade whispered quietly before draining her sake cup and pouring herself another.  “Now, let me take care of those.”  She gestured to the brunet’s face, where the gash on his left temple had started bleeding.  Though it was only a bead of scarlet, it was enough to make the medic wish she could smack the stubborn man.  Iruka should have come to the hospital the moment he returned, not the next day.  He certainly should not have spent the last few hours ignoring his injures so he could be with the twins.  Then again, Tsunade was not blind.  The joy in Iruka’s eyes when he held his children was well worth the physical discomfort he must have been in.  She could not imagine what the last week and a half had been like for the brunet, living under the assumption the twins were dead.  To hold those two miracles in his arms...Tsunade was willing to sit back and let the brunet have some time with his family before demanding he take a few minutes for himself.
Though she had an idea of how badly injured Iruka was, nothing could have prepared her for the truth as Iruka stood and slowly peeled off his shirt.  Even as he wrestled to pull the thin shirt up off his torso, he revealed just how lucky he was to be alive.  Scratches, cuts and bruises covered almost every inch of his bronze skin, but those were the least of her worries.  What made the medic nin in her wince were the burns.  Some were small blisters that, though painful, would heal on their own.  The dark red and black burns, though few in number, were the ones that worried her.  They were ones that would scar badly, marking his tanned skin and proving just what kind of hell he had survived.  There was one in particular, stretching across Iruka’s left breast, that she could tell from a few feet away would leave a deep, ugly scar that would forever disfigure the chuunin.
“Iruka!”  The pain and anger in his husband’s voice was enough to even make Tsunade wince.  She had heard from Naruto that Iruka returned last night, so she had assumed Kakashi must have seen at least some part of his husband’s body before now.  The pervert in her could only hope that the two shinobi had a heated, down and dirty, sex-filled reunion that they would remember for the rest of their lives.  From the sound of his voice, however, Kakashi was just as surprised as she was by Iruka’s injuries.  A quick glance at one of her best jounin - and the red flush to his amazingly bare, handsome cheeks - screamed that he had done more than just slept next to his fully clothed husband last night.  Then how the hell had Kakashi missed Iruka’s injuries?
Thankful she had the last week and a half to recover from reviving Kakashi and the twins, it took little more than a gentle touch against Iruka’s chest to heal the lacerations and countless burns that covered his upper body.  The charred remains of the left side of his chest took the most energy to heal, not simply from its size, but its depth and severity as well.  Gone was his nipple and what definition that side of his chest once had.  As she poured energy into the dead, blackened skin, it took on a brilliant pearly white color that was indented compared to the surrounding unmarred flesh.  The scar stretched across his entire left breast and crept up his neck in a twisted knot of tissue.  Though disfiguring, she knew neither male cared about the mark.
Next, she looked to his rib cage that was visibly deformed.  Her eye twitched as she fought the urge to yell at Iruka for his stubbornness.  Trailing her fingers along the dark bruising of the right side of his chest, she healed each broken rib as she came in contact with it.  It took a little more focus to heal the organs beneath that had suffered almost as much damage as the bones.
Her hand then drifted down his left arm, knitting together skin that had obviously been cut by a blade from the thin red line that drew an abstract design down his limb.  Coming to rest her touch on his left hand, she healed the cauterized remains of his ring finger until there was just a shocking white scar against the tan of the rest of his hand.  Thankfully, Iruka was right-handed.
Surprisingly, his face was nearly untouched.  She could see the nick to his temple as well as several smaller cuts to his cheeks and throat that, as she healed each reddened, infected mark in turn, left a minimal scar that only served to give Iruka’s wholesome, innocent features a touch of mystery and daring.  From the sudden darkening of his husband’s gaze in appreciation, she knew the jounin was anything but complaining about the change.
No, even though Iruka was a little worse for wear, he had survived.  He was beyond lucky that all he had to show from his battle with such a monster were some new scars and a missing finger.  It was not every day someone returned from the dead.  As far as Tsunade knew, his was the only name that was incorrectly engraved onto the Memorial.  But that did not matter now.  There would be time later to figure out what they should do about that little mistake.  For now, she watched with a small smile on her face as Kakashi slowly stood up from his chair and, moving with predatory grace, pulled his husband into his arms.
It did not take a psychic to know exactly what was going through the jounin’s mind as he all but threw his husband against her desk and took his mouth in a bruising kiss.  Quickly, before the first moans hit her ears, she slipped out of the room to give the two men some much needed time alone.  She had the feeling, now with three children to fill their time, such private moments were going to be few and far between.
She could not help but smile as she slipped into the nursery.  Her gaze immediately focused on the giggling brunet boy hovering over Sakura’s shoulder as he watched his sister sleeping in the kunoichi’s arms. Her eyes softened as Sakumo recognized her and let out a squeal.  Instantly, the toddler was in her arms, giggling.   Tsunade shifted the boy to her hip as she walked over to the crib holding his little brother.
Brushing her finger against the youngest Umino’s cheek, she could not help but smile at the thought of that stupid bet she and Jiraiya had made.  If not for the bet, she would have never gone to Iruka and all but tricked him into using his now famous jutsu.  Iruka would have never seduced Kakashi or fallen for the emotionally scarred jounin who knew nothing of love.  He would not now be married to his lover and best friend.  Sakumo, Naoaki, Sonoe, and Keiko would never have existed.
Despite popular belief, their actual bet was much different than the now infamous men versus women debate.  It had started out with Jiraiya being certain Kakashi would never find love even if it smacked him in the face.  The famed romance novelist had thought Kakashi incapable of true, enduring love.  Tsunade swore she knew just the person for him, but that he was too shy and afraid to approach the legendary jounin as he was.  So they had made a little bet.  If Tsunade could find someone for Kakashi, Jiraiya would eat one of his own books.  The day of Kakashi and Iruka’s wedding was one she would never forget; she picked out the thickest volume the pervert had ever written and watched gleefully as he gnawed on the smutty pages for nearly an hour until she was pulled away by a frantic soon-to-be father.  Though she did not deliver Keiko given her inebriated state, she had still been at the hospital in case her protege needed her assistance.   She had yet to forgive Naruto and Sasuke for taking away her from such a delightful event.
Then again, perhaps it was a little sneaky on her part to get Iruka to use his jutsu so that the two dense men would finally get together.  She had watched for years as Kakashi toyed around with the idea of dating Iruka, even going as far as to flirt with the chuunin in ridiculous manners.  As oblivious as Kakashi was, Iruka was even more so, not realizing that the jounin did not tease others.  He certainly did not draw raunchy cartoons and create horribly written prose on his mission reports for years with anyone else.  Even if Iruka had realized Kakashi was singling him out, the poor brunet would have been overwhelmed and probably scared off at the thought of dating such a famous shinobi.
So what better way to play matchmaker than to give her ever-professional Iruka a mission that she didn’t give him the chance to refuse?  She just needed a way to get Iruka to pretend to be someone else, if just for one night, to give Kakashi a chance.  Naruto had unknowingly given her the answer to that conundrum one night when she got him drunk in order to pump him for information on his older brother.
Having learned of Iruka’s Sexy no Jutsu, a plan started forming in her head.  Tsunade had the sneaking suspicion that Iruka would go after Kakashi, not simply because the man was one of the few openly bisexual people Iruka knew, but that Iruka had feelings for him as well.  The brunet certainly did not admit to his attraction; Tsunade doubted Iruka had even realized it himself.  She just had the benefit of cameras in the Mission Office and, when she was bored, she would watch all kinds of drama evolve in that small room.  Most interesting of all was the way Iruka would blush whenever Kakashi came in or how the jounin could stir Iruka into an angry frenzy like no one else.  She went to Jiraiya with her plan, and though he thought her crazy, he agreed to start spreading the rumor of their ‘bet’ so that Iruka couldn’t back out once it hit him that he, Umino Iruka, not a character he created, would have to approach Kakashi as well in order to complete his ridiculous mission.
Now, years later, Tsunade knew she had been right in pairing the two men together.  Once, Iruka had admitted to her that the person who got the most pleasure out of sex was the one in love.  It was the one who had given their heart to another.  It was the person who trusted their partner enough to be vulnerable around.  It was the one who knew their partner’s hopes and dreams, their fears and regrets.  It was the person who shared in every triumph and tragedy.  Most of all, it was the one who could look into their partner’s eyes and see a future together, filled with love and laughter.
Whatever else, at least two people won that bet.
- 42
- 43
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

All For the Sake of Pleasure