Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Ju-On ❯ Part 1 ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Another KakaIru fic? Man, do they EVER stop? Oh well, I can't help it. I said to myself that it isn't fair that as a lover of Kakashi and Iruka, I've only written ONE story of them. So here's another one! I hope it turns out okay. I can say now that the beginning chapters are going to be a bit slow, so bear with me.

In any case, Ju-On means "Grudge" in Japanese. Yep, this fic was inspired by the Japanese horror flick called Ju-On. But I wouldn't say it comes close to what the movie was about. I just liked the idea of a grudge coming back to haunt someone. So I'm using that idea and then everything from there is from my twisted mind. Also, the doujinshi scanlations done by carcinya/isolde and chibi-risu-chan called WATER, has also played a major insprition factor to me. I think that was the last PUSH that made me write this fic.

Oh well, enjoy!

Oh and a thank you to b4k4_girl who beta-read this for me! She has also completed my Iruka-in-leather-get-up from my fic FAINT. Go check it out in her deviantart account and praise her! ^__^

JU-ON 1

The gray skies wept that afternoon, sending cold splatters of tears onto the sodden earth. The battle had ended three days ago and people were already leaving the field after burying all the dead warriors. He could still smell the tangy metallic stench of blood in the air. A lot of lives were taken away. A lot of anger and sorrow lingered in the air. And still the rain fell, as if the spirits were weeping for the lives they lost in a blink of an eye.

It was not a fair battle. Humans against a demon-king? No, it was not fair at all.

His shoulders trembled as his body was wracked with sobs. He knew the demon was sealed away. He knew that the child was somewhere in the village. He knew that the child was breathing while his parents were dead! He was alone and the child was breathing?

"Damn him! Damn him!" He gritted out, clenching his fists as anger and hatred flared inside his heart. "I hate that bastard!" His nails dug into his palms, tears of anger cascading down his cheeks. He'd like to think he wasn't crying. His father never liked it when he cried. No, he thought, it was the rain. It was just the rain. "I'll kill him! I hate him! I'll kill him!" He swore on his parent's grave that he would. "He'll die! I hate him! I'll kill him! I swear it!"

And then the rain stopped.

XXX

He opened his eyes to find the first few dull rays of sunshine pouring through his curtained window. Cool air brushed against his bare legs and torso, tickling his skin and glazing it with goosebumps. It was the monsoon season in Konoha, and it had been raining the other night. Throwing a hand over his eyes, he pulled the curtain drapes apart a bit and peered up at the sky. It was slightly drizzling, and soon it would stop. The skies were still a dull gray and barely any sunrays poured through.

"That dream again." He whispered, turning to the empty space beside him, the covers twisting around his bare waist.

The pillows were crumpled and in a mess, the sheets stained with white splatters that were the result of their activities the previous night. How many times had it been? Three? Four? They were both tired from work, and he had just returned from a mission. When he arrived through his window as he was towel drying his hair from a shower, it was all fast, needy, hot and lustful. It had always been like that, for as long as he could remember.

It's a common story after all, to warm a cold body in such a way.

Closing his eyes once more, he pulled himself together and sat up, peeling the sheets away. He still had his responsibilities. He still had some of his honor left and he kept reminding himself that. Stretching his limbs, he padded his way to the bathroom, turning the tap on and grabbing his toothbrush. He looked at his reflection and found a man in his mid twenties staring back at him. Well, it should have been mid-twenties, for he swore he looked much, much older. He had bags under his eyes, and his skin was slightly pale, glazed and decorated with several red marks and bruises. There were old marks from before that hadn't healed yet completely, making his body look bruised and beaten. Throw in the new red bruises and it looked even worse. It was like plucking red rose petals and tossing them onto a pool of water that had lavender petals floating on it already.

It's a common image after all, to gain such results after warming a cold body in such a way.

He ran his hand over his neck, wincing at the slightly raw skin before hissing at the reflection and turning the tap on to brush his teeth. He took a shower then dressed, grabbed a packet of biscuits from the kitchen shelf and made his way to the ninja academy, chomping on his breakfast. He tossed the empty biscuit wrapper in to the nearest trash bin before climbing up a drainpipe and using the roof to get to the academy. He was moving at a slow pace since his backside was currently hurting and raw from last night's escapade. He had been slightly rougher than normal. But he didn't complain. He never complained. He couldn't bring himself to complain due to the comfort he felt in being in someone's arms, the feel of his lips on his, and his hands on his body - he needed it. He needed to feel someone close to him.

Whore.

He slipped off the roof he was supposed to land on and fell on the ground on his back with a loud thud. He winced, cringing at the sight of the dark alleyway he found himself currently in and pulled himself together.

"Maybe the roof wasn't a very bright idea." He mumbled, and limped his way to the academy.

Slut.

Iruka paused at the thought and frowned. He was now in front of the academy, staring at the building, a sad look glazing his eyes that were normally filled with happiness.

Prostitute.

He bit his lower lip. "No. I'm not." He said with confidence, but that was what he'd been reminding himself. What honor was there in being treated like some sort of whore? Was he some form of entertainment? He had asked himself those questions several times since the beginning, and as ugly and black as the truth was, his thoughts were right. "But I -" He whispered, and cast his eyes down. "I love him."

And he began walking towards the academy, the rain falling from the sky.

XXX

"I'm done, Iruka-sensei." Toki held up his scroll for Iruka to examine.

Iruka took the scroll without saying a word, picked up his red pen and began to correct the answers to the exercise he gave the class. He wrote the grade at the top and handed the scroll back to Toki. "Very good. You may leave, Toki."

He was not in a good mood. The class had been noisy and as punishment, he gave them a ten-page exercise sheet to finish or else they couldn't go home. The rain was coming down very hard outside. The children were supposed to have genjutsu practice, but because of their misbehavior, they were stuck with paperwork.

Finally, a good hour later, the last child departed and Iruka was left in the classroom all alone. He picked up the chalkboard eraser and began to erase the board. He heard the classroom door shut and turned around to find that the classroom was empty, nor was there any shadows indicating that the person who closed the door was walking away. Frowning, he shrugged and continued to erase the board. The door slammed again and Iruka whirled sharply to find the classroom empty. He felt something heavy settle upon his chest and turned and collided with a chest, a loud shout escaping his mouth.

"Oh geez!" He hissed and placed a hand on his chest. "You startled me, Kakashi!"

Kakashi merely stared at him with a bored look in his eye. Iruka frowned as he felt a chill run down his spine. Kakashi was in front of him, waiting for him to pack up and set for home, and yet, he could feel eyes boring into his back. Frowning, he looked behind him and found nothing but an empty space and wall with some of the children's work tacked onto the rubber board. His frown deepened as he continued to study the room.

"Iruka? Something the matter?" Kakashi asked, puzzled as to what the chuunin was looking for.

"No." Iruka said, shaking his head and gathering his things. As he left the classroom with Kakashi, he could have sworn he felt someone. "Kakashi, could you wait for a second?" He turned back and threw his classroom door open and found it dark and empty. Sighing, he shook his head. "I must be really stressed out."

He left the academy with Kakashi and headed back for his apartment.

XXX

Hot lips met his immediately as soon as he locked his door and set his things down. He grabbed the silky silver hair in his hands and kissed the Jounin back hungrily. A tongue licked his chin and trailed down his neck where a pair of lips began to nip on his neck. He arched his neck back, fingers trailing down the jounin's back and fingers hooking on the waistband of his trousers. The Jounin pulled him towards the sofa and pulled off his shirt, his fingers undoing Iruka's pants as he sank himself onto the sofa and pulled Iruka on his lap.

Minutes later, after an intense orgasm, Iruka was lying on the couch, Kakashi sprawled beside him, both naked, the cool air hitting their bodies. Iruka turned his gaze to Kakashi and thought of what just happened. The sex was good, no doubt about that. But, was there anything else beyond the sex?

Whore.

Iruka shut his eyes and stood up, picking up his clothes and padded for the bathroom. Kakashi merely watched him as he disappeared behind the bathroom door. He never locked the door, because Kakashi would always follow him. And when he did, Iruka asked, as he was lathering his hair with shampoo.

"Kakashi?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you happy?" He asked, squeezing more shampoo out of the container and lathering more in his hair. Kakashi was leaning against the bathroom sink, waiting for his turn.

"The sex is good." Kakashi answered.

Iruka stopped in mid-lather and stared at the silver tap in front of him. "Just the sex?"

A visible frown crossed Kakashi's features. He was a handsome man underneath the mask, and Iruka had fallen for him hard when he first set sights upon the mask-less face. He had an angular face, with a sharp nose and finely defined chin and cheekbones. The scar down his red eye only accentuated his mismatched eyes, and gave his face a rare look of beauty that was found scarcely in men.

"What are you implying?" Kakashi asked.

Iruka continued lathering his hair and then rinsed it, along with the soap on his body. Once clean, he pulled the shower curtain back and stared at Kakashi with hurt in his eyes. "I mean, are we -"

"What is it you want?" Kakashi asked.

Slut.

"I want there to be an us." Iruka said, wrapping the towel around his waist and stepping out of the bathtub, while Kakashi stepped in.

"You don't like what we have now?" Kakashi asked, turning on the tap. "Love is what you want, right?"

Iruka felt his words like a slap on his face.

"I don't mean anything to you. I'm just your whore." Iruka whispered and walked out the bathroom, with Kakashi staring at his back until he entered his bedroom.

Prostitute.

Iruka sat on his bed and brought his hands to his face. He felt used. Forced. A recipient of empty pleasure. Like he was taken over. He felt like crying, but he didn't have any tears to shed. He rubbed the back of his head with his hands and swallowed his pride, or rather, what was left of it. Kakashi emerged from the shower, and then he was on top of him, kissing him and touching him.

And he couldn't say anything.

Whore.

TBC