Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Mission Reports ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

Chapter One

 

`I want to kill myself.'

 

He didn't know where the thought had come from. It was so sudden, so abrupt, such a jolt to his senses that his mind upon thinking those very words had shut down, withdrawn itself into a state of shock. It wasn't that he'd never felt that way, in fact the urge to end his own life came often in the darker hours of Shinobi life, but never had the thought or desire been so strong and clear. It was if - it was as if it were someone else's voice in his head, someone else saying those words strongly to him with such a sense of command. There was no hesitation to the thought, no wondering, just a clear intent without the slightest grain of fear attached. When had he let it get this far? Just when had he allowed himself to think suicide was the answer? Yet the more he pondered those fearful thoughts the more they plagued him, his conscience crying out and clashing with his mind, wondering whether he needed to seek help or just act on his baser instincts and end it all now . . .

 

It was strange how one thought could have his heart pounding in a whole new way to the heat of battle, how the adrenaline through him felt so sedated than what he was used to but still was as potent as ever. His mind had shut down at some point as those words took over him and it'd made his senses all the sharper. That iron-like taste in his mouth now became like blood, the noise of the Chunin in the mission office like a drumming thunder in his ears and his body - his body felt numb, his fingertips cold and his lips dry. It was a new kind of fear. It wasn't a fight for survival or a desire to run, it was simply a heavy acceptance, an acknowledgement that something horrible was coming. There was fear but it was muted for a reason, it was inevitable and this time he couldn't fight it, he'd just have to accept it. He couldn't fight this. He had to die.

 

He'd always imagined the moment one decided to take their life would be all the more poignant than what he felt now. Wasn't there meant to be an immense sense of relief that all one's pain would finally be gone, a sense that all was right in the world now you wouldn't be making it a worse a place to be? So why was it all he felt was numb. That same numb feeling he'd felt so many times in the past. It was the feeling he'd felt realising he'd caused Obito's death, it was the feeling he'd felt knowing nothing he could do would stop Sasuke from leaving, that feeling that overwhelmed him when Itachi had left him comatose for so long all because he'd made a foolish error in judgement . . . It was an empty feeling, knowing something inside him was missing and couldn't be filled. He'd tried of course - of course he'd tried - filling it with rigid rules and order when his own father had died, filled it with an appreciation for life when Obito died, and he'd even tried to fill that void with books and smiles, trying to be that person that everyone could like. He'd tried so many things, became so many people, that he wasn't even sure who he was anymore. Just who was Kakashi Hatake? Was he the lazy, always late teacher who'd rather read than pay attention, the serious and controlled man who could win almost any battle, or that small boy that had died so many years ago when everyone he knew left him in ways he'd rather not remember? Perhaps there was no such man as Kakashi. He felt empty, maybe he was empty, and maybe there simply wasn't anything to him anymore except an empty shell and empty being with empty thoughts.

 

Yet - yet he didn't want to die, not really. There was that glimmer of hope that wouldn't leave, the thoughts of a future that as much as he wanted he knew he'd never have, but knowing - just knowing! - that there was nothing for him just made that despair all the worse. It didn't matter what he wanted because he'd never get it. He'd see more people leave him, watch more suffer, be a tool for the village to use to its disposal, his life would never be anything more than what it was and it was a hard fate to bear. It was like holding the world on one's shoulders and simply praying someone else would help lighten the load, but when he'd lost all those closest to him who could he turn to? There was Gai he supposed, and Tenzo, but how long until they left too? He'd already came to rely on them for so much . . .

 

Perhaps it was time to end it after all.

 

Sighing he looked his mission report over one last time before leaning forward to glance into the mission room, the place seemed slightly more busy than usual and with a few Jounin lounging about too, the desk itself was manned by three people but Kakashi could only recognise two of them. One man to the far left was a low-ranked Shinobi on desk duty pretty much full time, he was always eager to hear the latest information and details on high-ranked missions (which never helped Kakashi's tardiness) and the other man was of course Iruka-sensei.

 

He had to smile at that. Sometimes he wondered if the younger Chunin ever had any free time to himself, he always seemed to be teaching at the school and when he wasn't he seemed permanently attached to the mission desk, and admittedly sometimes the ramen bar. It was admirable that he was so attached to his students and dedicated to his work, he was an excellent Shinobi and it was no wonder so many students looked up to him, but it was nice to think that perhaps he got some time off to relax, he did deserve it after all. However as much as he admired and respected the man there was a slight element of fear there too, not that he'd ever admit that aloud of course, but each time Iruka tried to take control from him - such as when he put forth Team Seven for the exams - he was always forced to put the other in his place so to speak, and all that did was cause the other further dislike for him, and of course there was the matter of nothing that Kakashi did was ever considered right. It was strange how he always both loathed and loved seeing the Chunin; he loved seeing the man he liked so dearly, but hated the fact that said man probably held nothing but distaste for him. It was like a catch twenty-two, but there was nothing he could do to prevent such a matter, after all he couldn't avoid Iruka and had to face him sometimes such as now.

 

Running a gloved hand through his dew-soaked hair he gathered all his strength as a Jounin Shinobi and drew in a deep breath, feeling the soft droplets of water moisten his hand and remind him of just how life moved on in the world despite his inner feelings. The cool touch of liquid on skin was refreshing almost, but the way his uniform clung to him like a second-skin - still soaked with rainwater that never seemed to evaporate - only dragged him down further into his despair, making his body cold and reminding him of how cruel the elements could be.

 

With a slow breath he strode into the mission room and headed straight for Iruka's desk. The other two Chunin at the desk were already packing their belongings and heading away, the Jounin left in the room slowly filtering out realising that their temporary shelter was closing down for the night. It looked like the mission desk was closing for the night; sometimes they worked all the way through, which had been what he was hoping for as it would have made avoiding Iruka so much easier, but as it was only the teacher was left finishing a few odd papers and as his report was due in tomorrow morning at the latest . . . it looked like he had no other choice.

 

The windows outside reflected nothing but shimmering, ghostly images of buildings old and young with fleeting whispers of the few Shinobi below not yet home from the day's struggles. On the glass held the image of a thousand stars, the silvery light of the moon breaching the window to shine a incandescent sparkle on Iruka's cheek, and now - with the emptied mission room - all that could be heard was the eerie yet lively music of rain pattering down on the earth below. The room seemed cast in shadow with Kakashi wandering through with such ease he felt at home, as if these shadows on the rain-filled night were the only companions he belonged to, and by the time he reached Iruka it seemed as if he'd broken into the world of the beautiful and living, a world to which he did not belong.

 

“My, my! Is that the time?” Kakashi said with a nervous smile, one he knew wouldn't be seen but hopefully the faded and faked happiness would show nonetheless, “I'm sorry but I didn't realise I was so late, you see I spent my last change buying Naruto-kun ramen and public transport costs so much these days!”

 

“Your excuses get more pathetic each time, Kakashi-san.”

 

“Well, nonetheless I have unfinished business to attend to, could you . . . be quick? Please?”

 

“Kakashi, I am not accepting that report!”

 

With an obvious frown Kakashi cast a disappointed look at the papers in his hand; his right eyes half-lidded with the effort to keep awake and conscious to his goings-on, desperate to close his eyes to the world and hide his pain, but as he looked they seemed fine and considering how the desk was still technically open he didn't see a problem. He'd tried so hard to get it done properly and on time, every last needed detail was there and here he was near enough when he should be, and yet - as usual - something was wrong and he couldn't figure out quite what.

 

He never had a problem on missions. He could kill who needed to be killed, retrieve what was needed, scan areas and gain information and generally do any task required of him with an expertise many envied, and yet when it came to these basic human interactions he failed . . . He knew Iruka was angry, he could tell by that cute little pout and the way his cheeks flushed so adorably, and his chocolate brown eyes were narrowed into a deep glare that furrowed the skin above his nose. The younger man had even stood up tall and after shuffling papers unnecessarily crossed his arms, looking at Kakashi as if he were nothing more than a petulant student or obnoxious Genin. Had he really done something wrong again?

 

“Oh?” Kakashi replied lamely.

 

“No! It's positively soaking wet, I can't possibly accept that - that thing! And what Jounin comes into the mission room dressed like that, it'll take days to clean up all the mud and - and - is that blood? You're supposed to be setting an example for your students, not teaching them that disrespecting the mission room by turning up late with soaked reports and dripping all kinds of grime! I expect better than this Kakashi!”

 

“I didn't have long to write the report,” He replied sadly, “By the time I got back from mission and realised the report was due I had barely ten minutes to write it, I was in such a rush to get it in on time I had to write it out in the rain.”

 

“Excuses. I know you got back this morning around daybreak.”

 

As hard as it was to believe he hadn't given an excuse that time, he'd genuinely told the truth, but given his track record with wild lies and reasoning he hadn't really expected Iruka to believe him, and he certainly wasn't going to reveal the full truth.

 

He had gotten back at daybreak - he wouldn't deny that - but the moment he came back he'd went straight to the memorial stone, the mission had been brutal and his already weak mindset had been weakened further by the process, he'd gone to ask for advice from Minato and apologise to Obito, he'd needed time to meditate for Rin and beg that he'd be strong enough to fight the path of the White Fang. Yet how could he tell Iruka that? He didn't want to appear any weaker than he was and he couldn't let the other feel any less towards him than he already did, but most of all he couldn't open up to one more person only to have it all thrown back at him. He couldn't bring himself to trust another person with something so vitally important to his existence, with the experiences that defined him as a person and whose memories haunted him to this day, and if by hiding that side of him Iruka hated him then maybe that was just the way things were meant to be?

 

Yet Iruka was a good man. He was a kind Shinobi who had infinite patience for those around him and who cared deeply about those closest to him, he wasn't a man to turn his back on those in need no matter who they were, and even if he shouldn't, even if Shinobi should show no emotion, he felt a deep love for this man and felt as though by simply not sharing some part of him he was doing more harm than good. True his life was worthless, he knew he could not be with Iruka, and in fact by simply being near Iruka he was tainting the other and turning him into something rotten with his presence alone, but Iruka gave him some sort of hope, of pleasure, and even if it was selfish he wanted to believe that the other could help him in some way and bring him through this. He wanted to believe he wasn't a bad person for simply being here; here, the mission room, the village, alive . . .

 

“Iruka-sensei -?”

 

“Save it, Kakashi.” Iruka snapped, moving out of the room with such speed Kakashi was left standing stunned and alone at the desk, standing alone in darkness as Iruka turned out the last and only light left, “I don't care if it's late in, I'm not accepting another half-assed report. You'll just have to come in early tomorrow with the actual report, won't you?” Kakashi gazed lazily at the paper, what he was looking at he never knew because he never saw the paper, not really and nor did he see anything else, “I'm sorry Kakashi-san but that's that, I really don't care what else you have to say about the matter. Good night.”

 

Kakashi waited until Iruka had left before releasing a sigh he hadn't even knew he'd been holding. The room was now cast in a blanket of darkness with only the distant light of the moon shining through; he knew many found the moon a comfort, a light always there and always guiding through the tough times, but he found it nothing but menacing, a being that always overlooked the bad times and gloated over you as you suffered. He remembered the way it shone upon his father's blood that night and wondered if it would shine on his own the same way too. He had nothing. He was alone in a mission room with a wet report and only the memories of two Water Ninja dying just the day before, his life was meaningless now Team Seven were off with various new mentors and what had he in general to show for his life? Even Iruka had given up on him and Iruka never gave up on anyone, Iruka was always the constant in everyone's lives, and now Iruka couldn't care less and - to be honest - neither could Kakashi.

 

With one last gaze on his report he gave a soft smile no one would ever see and realised he knew now what he had to do. If he had nothing to live for then there would be no point in living at all, would there? His pupils wouldn't even notice his death, his friends would move on with their lives, his family were all gone and it wasn't as if they had even cared to begin with - all he had were his missions and what good was he for them? He'd been useless these past few years, he should never have fell to Itachi and never have let the Fourth die; he was useless.

 

No, he knew what he had to do and he'd do it, he had to do it for the good of the village, he had no other choice. Carefully he laid down his report upon Iruka's desk and felt for the first time a sense of utmost relief, the weight finally off his shoulders and the burden no longer his to bear, there was now a light at the end of the tunnel and he could see it - finally he could see it! It was true, the moment one realises suicide is the moment one feels finally free, no longer chained to the pain or imprisoned by the past. Perhaps Obito would not forgive him; perhaps he would, but whatever punishment he would suffer in his next life he would be free of this one. It'd be over. It'd finally be over.

 

“Goodnight to you too, Iruka,” He said sadly and softly, “I hope this is in early enough for you . . .”

 

With a final smile he straightened the papers on the desk and left.

 

* * *

 

Raising his hand to the door Iruka paused.

 

He should knock, he knew he should, but for some reason something held him back. No, not `something', he knew exactly what was stopping him from pounding on the door and demanding entrance, he knew exactly why he was hesitating from barging in and giving that Godforsaken Jounin a piece of his mind, and that thing - the only thing stopping him - was that this all seemed a little extreme . . . It wasn't as though he'd just dropped by on the way home to see Kakashi after all . . . He'd had to get the Jounin's address from Tsunade which seemed to be a little stalker-like, march all the way to Kakashi's apartment which was miles from his own which seemed more than a little obsessive, and all in the dead of night for something as stupid as a mission report which seemed incredibly psychotic. Yet it wasn't any of those things at all, no matter what Kakashi would think! He had every right to stop buy and give the older man a good telling off! He'd been gone from the mission room for just ten minutes and when he'd returned for some forgotten marking that pathetic, sodden report was there staring him in he face!

 

True this sort of behaviour wasn't unusual for Kakashi; reports were often late or incomplete, forms were often left unsigned, files were often left unsorted and a few times he'd even received a `report' written in crayon by Naruto which Kakashi had tried to pass off as his own. Jounin level Shinobi as a rule were notorious for flaunting the rules but none to such as an extreme and the Copy-Ninja, and although Iruka had a vast amount of patience this was starting to wear thin on his nerves. He worked hard for a living damn it and he didn't deserve to be constantly disrespected! He shouldn't have to chase after his colleagues for reports the same way he'd chase his students for homework, he shouldn't have to be the one to tell them their responsibilities as sensei which they should have already been familiar with, and most of all he shouldn't have to give up his own free time simply because a Shinobi couldn't be bothered to be on time! He respected that Kakashi was busy, always on missions and worked hard but why couldn't the other see that he had to work just as hard despite being a Chunin? Why didn't the other think that he deserved the same respect, not only as a Shinobi but as a fellow human being too?

 

No, he was not accepting such a shoddy report! Even if this took up his own free time, even if it was obsessive and a wasted use of energy, he wouldn't let himself be pushed over or disrespected! He'd told Kakashi to come back tomorrow and the fact that the elder had yet again pretended that the other didn't even exist angered him, and it hurt him too . . . Drawing in a deep breath he knew he had to put an end to this behaviour now, before it became out of hand or any other of his colleagues followed his example, so that was all there was to it! If that damned man wanted to act like a child then Iruka was happy enough to treat him just like a child!

 

Still . . . He had a great deal of respect for Kakashi. The man could seem almost perfect at times. He had flawless looks that both men and women dreamed about, he had skills and powers that hardly anyone could compete with, friends and pupils who would give their lives for him and a legacy as great as the White Fang, even his personality could draw even the coldest of people to him with his mysterious ways and laid-back outlook on life. It wasn't a surprise he thought so lowly about Iruka, always telling him off or criticising him on his opinions, considering him very much a `mother-hen', but that didn't mean Iruka wanted him to dislike him anymore than he already did . . . He liked Kakashi, in fact it was common knowledge he even had a slight crush on him, blushing when the other would come into the room or pay him a compliment, always asking questions about him like when he'd first found out he'd be mentoring Team Seven. Did he really want Kakashi to think of him as some sort of stick-in-the-mud, workaholic, uptight loser too?

 

Well, it was too late now, he was here and he had principles, he couldn't just let this go and if he backed away at this stage he'd be nothing more than a coward, something that Kakashi would find more off-putting than his original intent . . . With a deep sigh he put on the most furious frown he could muster and went for the door-handle, he didn't trust the rather immature Shinobi to ditch him when he knocked and leave one of those stupid scarecrows in his place, he wouldn't let himself fall victim to another idiotic prank, he was going to confront him once and for all!

 

“Hatake Kakashi-san?”

 

He was surprised that the door had been left unlock, swinging open easily with such ease that it only took the slightest touch to have it wide open and exposing the interior of the small room beyond. For a split-second the room - for it couldn't be called an apartment - had him in complete shock, there was enough room for a bed but that was about it save a desk and a clothes chest, there wasn't even a bathroom attached which would mean Kakashi would have to share a communal one. He hadn't expected such basic living from a man like this, especially considering all the Ninken he'd trained personally would need some place to live . . . He was truly surprised, the apartment was even smaller than Naruto's and he hadn't expected that from such a Jounin, but more importantly was that the small space automatically drew his eyes to the room's sole occupant: Kakashi.

 

Iruka hadn't expected much when he'd decided to barge in, he'd expected to perhaps see the other man training or reading those damn novels he seemed permanently attached to, he hadn't expected to see anything else and he certainly hadn't prepared himself for the worst.

 

Before him, sitting lifelessly on the edge of the bed with knees spread and hand upturned between, was Kakashi - his hands lacked their usual gloves and he'd removed his Jounin vest and sweater so he was simply in that vest that covered his mouth, even his hitai-ite was gone. There was something almost alluring and beautiful about seeing him so bared and exposed compared to usual, without his weapons tied to his trousers or his arms hidden and his eye exposed, but there was no time for awe as in his left hand he gripped his kunai tight, so tight his knuckles were white with pressure. The point of the kunai's blade was resting upon the white skin on his right wrist and then with a slow, steady pressure - as if he had all the time in the world - he began to slice down his forearm towards his elbow.

 

“Kakashi!”

 

Slamming shut the door Iruka literally dived across the room and wrenched the hand holding the kunai away with both his own hands, using the full force of his body to do so. Whether he was stronger than he thought, whether Kakashi was too weak to care or whether he'd simply caught the Jounin by surprise he didn't know, but he managed easily to pull that arm away from the arm and send the wretched kunai flying across the room, it landed with a crash into a far corner out of sight and disappeared from view entirely.

 

Iruka found himself desperately panting for breath as his heart sped erratically with adrenaline; he was on his knees that felt bruised or bloody with the force of how he'd flung his body over to the other, beneath his own hitai-ite his forehead felt sticky with sweat and fear, his hands trembling violently as Kakashi dropped his arm forcefully so that Iruka's own hands were forced down too, his eyes darting over Kakashi to check many things that he couldn't coherently explain. Kakashi had - he'd just tried to -? Panting for breath Iruka licked his dry lips and blinked away tears. When he looked down to the right wrist of the elder Jounin he saw a tiny deep red line that dramatically veered away from the vein as the blade was pulled away, from there he could see a few inches of a very shallow cut that would barely scar, but that tiny part at the beginning - the start - showed clearly intent. Had Kakashi had those few seconds he needed his vein would definitely be split in two, and it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say death would be a strong probability. Luckily Iruka had come in time to stop the act and hardly any damage had been done . . .

 

But why - why! - had he tried to take his own life? This was Kakashi, the legendary Copy-Ninja, he had everything he could ever want and anything he didn't have he could surely get just as easily. What hurt Iruka though was how selfish this whole act seemed . . . Kakashi had tried to take his own life but what about everyone else who he would have left behind; what about Gai who was both rival and friend and risked his life so many times for him, what about Sasuke or Naruto who'd both put their utmost faith and trust in their mentor and absorbed all he said with keen interest, and what about Iruka who loved him? What had possessed him to do this! Why? Why! Iruka didn't understand. Were there any signs? Maybe he'd missed something, maybe he should have noticed before now, maybe there was something to give it all away, but - but Kakashi had seemed so normal! He hadn't seemed the suicidal sort, or at least not to Iruka. Yet here he was, trying to take his own life . . . Suddenly Iruka was overcome with utter guilt. If only he'd been more patient and tried to understand the Jounin, see past his faults, maybe if he'd invited Kakashi to more of the events they all took part in or invited Kakashi to the ramen bar sometime, maybe if he'd even let the late mission reports slide instead of pestering him - but - but -. This couldn't all be down to just Iruka, so what else had happened, what else had pushed Kakashi to do this? God! If anyone had hurt him - anyone at all! - he'd make sure they'd suffer greatly for all they'd done to his companion and colleague.

 

Swallowing almost audibly he gently held Kakashi's wrist and stood up, lifting the wrist with him so it was eye-level with the elder man who simply sat mute and unmoving, the elevation would help stop the bleeding and make it easier to treat. Removing his own hitai-ite he wrapped it silently around the shallow wound and gave a weak smile, but when a small drop of water fell and stained the navy material he realised he was crying. He was crying. It felt so wrong - Kakashi was in such internal agony he was reduced to taking his own life, Iruka had a life he loved more than anything and yet he was the one crying. It felt - it felt as if he was trivialising what Kakashi felt, but in reality he was both relieved he'd saved the man and devastated that the other could hurt so much, the combination of emotions was so intense and overwhelming he had no choice but to cry. Why did he do this? Why hadn't Iruka seen the signs?

 

“This is just a make-shift bandage to stop the bleeding,” Iruka said weakly, “The deep part is little over a couple of millimetres, the rest is just a shallow wound, it looks like a lot of blood but it needs minimal treatment -.”

 

“I know, Iruka-sensei,” Came the deep voice, eyes still cast upon an imaginary spot on the floor but voice deep and broken as if the whole world had came crashing down upon him, “I'm a Jounin. If I couldn't analyse a basic wound such as this I have no right to call myself a Shinobi.”

 

“Well - well the bleeding will stop in a minute or so with pressure. Don't worry.”

 

He barely had time to tie the hitai-ite in place when Kakashi wrenched his arm away so forcefully Iruka stumbled forward, he fell face first onto the bed right as Kakashi jolted from his spot and crossed the room to the window. Not wanting to stay lying in a rather inappropriate position on the edge of the bed Iruka moved into a sitting position and waited. He watched the other silently as he stared into the blackness of the inky sky outside, the thousands of raindrops hitting the glass so hard it wasn't hard to imagine it could smash any moment. It was a long time before either spoke and when Kakashi did it was with such venom, such malice and contempt that Iruka could do nothing but shudder and tense, waiting for a blow that usually always followed words of such complete pain and anger.

 

“I didn't want the bleeding to stop.” He quickly undid the tie of the hitai-ite and flung it across the room, it landed more or less on top of the kunai, Iruka had to wince at the sight. “I wanted to die, Iruka-sensei. You had no right to take that from me.”

 

“Kakashi, I -”

 

Kakashi turned and looked over across the room, his eyes seemed to scan around but then fall still upon a spot just beyond Iruka by the door, then his anger seemed abated as his eyes softened and his body relaxed. The release of tension wasn't welcomed however, in its place came a terrifying expression of complete defeat and suffering, there was such a lost look Iruka could barely keep his eyes upon the elder. His eyes fell in the corners and glazed over dully, his skin became paler and his hands opened but fingers stayed taut as if unsure of themselves, then came the film of water on those dark eyes of his as he quickly shot his head to look away from that spot behind him. When Iruka looked, curious, he saw behind him the mission papers.

 

“I see.” Kakashi said sadly, “You came to lecture me about proper procedure. Well as you can see there is a time and place for everything, you have no right to come into my private space and interrupt a personal task, I'd like it if you could leave now.”

 

Iruka sat in shock.

 

He wasn't really expected to leave, was he? After what he'd saw and seen how could he possibly just up and go? If he left Kakashi now when he was obviously in need, obviously in pain, he'd never forgive himself and he'd never be able to live with himself. Kakashi meant the world to him, he was everything he'd always envied and always wanted, whereas most people always wanted to be Kakashi he'd simply wanted to be with him. He'd loved the other as much as he was driven crazy by him, even now he'd seen him at his weakest he still felt the same, in fact he probably respected the other more for seeing this human side of him. He wouldn't leave him to rot in his private hell, he wouldn't let him drown in depression, and most of all he wouldn't leave him to do this again! He had to know why. He had to.

 

“I won't leave you, Kakashi-san.”

 

“I asked you to leave,” He snapped, turning with eyes brimming with unshed tears, “You didn't even want to be here and as you can see I'm in no mood for lectures right now. Just go, Iruka-sensei.”

 

He shook his head and smiled sadly. “No. I'm not going to leave you, not like this. I don't understand, Kakashi! Why? Why did you try and - and -? You always seemed so content, I didn't think for a minute you'd do something like this! If I'd had any idea I swear I would have done everything I could to have helped you! I thought you were just - you know . . . being awkward. You always seemed so confident that I never thought you'd be hiding something like this . . .”

 

“Oh? So you're staying out of pity? How kind.”

 

“No! I'm staying because I care, Kakashi!” Iruka snapped, his face red with frustration and pain, his eyes streaming with tears, “I love you and I won't see you hurt! Do you have any idea what you mean to this village? To the people in it? If you died so many people would suffer and not just because of your skills as a Shinobi, but because of what you mean to them as a person.”

 

“What a fascinating cliché. I'm sure I read that in `Icha Icha Violence.'”

 

“This isn't a joke, Kakashi!” Iruka screamed before clamping a hand over his mouth and forcing himself to calm down, in a complex like this the likelihood was walls would be thin and he doubted the other Ninja wanted his business known to the world. “You mean a lot to everyone. Did you ever think just how the Toad Sage would be able to break the news to Naruto, how Sasuke would feel if he ever came back to the village, what effects it would have on Gai who worships you? Did you ever think what it'd mean to me? You -. Why Kakashi? Why try something like this?”

 

Silence. He hadn't expected the other to say anything straight away but the silence was killing him, to be forced to wait for so long for such an important response had him literally on the edge of his seat, his heart beating a million beats a minute with adrenaline he couldn't contain. He thought of all explanations and all seemed as wild and unrealistic as the last! Perhaps Kakashi was suffering some sort of addiction, maybe he banged his head on a mission, maybe he'd been abused recently, or what if it was his fault that Orichimaru invaded the village? But Kakashi was a good person though! He'd done nothing wrong in his life and installed important values and morals in his students, inspired fellow Ninja and saved the lives of so many! What reason could Kakashi have to try and - and - and commit suicide? Whatever it was had to be so bad, so horrible, that even Iruka's mind couldn't hope to comprehend it, and in that case did he even want to know? Could he even bring himself to hear such an awful revelation?

 

He watched as Kakashi sat at the far end of the bed. Upon the windowsill were several books, most those damn `Icha Icha' ones that were so damned popular among the perverted Shinobi of higher rank. Iruka had never read them himself but he heard they were easy to relate to as they were semi-autobiographical, meaning that the Ninja who read them could see themselves as the characters who they liked the most. In fact they were meant to be as much plot as porn and it was inspiring in that respect, to see characters face hopeless battles and come out on top. It revealed more of Kakashi's personality than he'd originally thought. Alongside the books was a large plant - half-alive - with the oddest name written upon it, and two small photographs in plain frames. There was one of Team Seven with Kakashi looking as if he was forcing an awkward, exasperated smile (surely a sign that Iruka should have spotted?) and a photo of the Fourth with what looked like a young Kakashi, very cute but pouting in such a way that rivalled Sasuke. It was the second photograph, of a Kakashi so long ago, that he seemed to be staring so intently at, his whole mind preoccupied with that photo as if it held all the answers in the world.

 

Carefully Iruka lifted himself up from his seat at the end of the bed and stood. He had two choices right now; he could up and leave and let Kakashi alone with some dignity and self-reflection, or he could stay and comfort the man despite clearly not being wanted. It wasn't much of a choice really, was it? It wasn't even that he cared about answers anymore, it was more that he had an obligation to be by Kakashi's side and help him through this, after all wouldn't he want the same if he felt like suicide was the only option? Besides . . . he loved Kakashi, didn't he? Slowly he walked around the bed and sat down besides the other, feeling the bed dip as he did so and seeing the slight glare in those eyes at the fact he chose not to leave. Ignoring Kakashi's glare he placed a hand reassuringly upon his shoulder and gave a smile, all it did was cause the other to sigh but at the same time obviously relax and shed some tension.

 

“Kakashi-san?” He whispered, holding firm and tight upon the other's shoulder. “Please, why did you do it? Why did you try and hurt yourself?”

 

“I hate myself . . .”

 

The words were half-whispered and half-unsaid, something so soft in the air it was almost as if they hadn't been uttered at all, something unsure and almost ethereal that revealed deep into the other's soul. Just three words but they said so much, told such a story and revealed so much pain and understanding that Iruka could feel his eyes brimming with tears all over again. That quiet tone had been laced with such venom the hatred was clear, but beneath it was a longing sound of a desperate desire to have something more, to overcome that self-loathing. He couldn't understand how Kakashi could hate himself - he had the perfect life! - and yet here he was driven to suicide because he couldn't bear to simply be who he was. Iruka didn't understand, perhaps he couldn't or wasn't meant to, but he knew the pain the other felt, human suffering was universal after all and so he knew he had to do everything he could to help, to bring a sense of peace to the elder Shinobi whether he understood or not. Kakashi didn't deserve to suffer after all, why he did was a mystery but regardless Iruka swore he'd do everything in his power to help.

 

“I don't expect you to understand,” Kakashi continued sadly.

 

“Try me.”

 

“Iruka . . . Why do you care so much?”

 

“Kakashi,” Iruka said softly, keeping his hand upon the shoulder to show his support and his determination not to let go. He just felt that the physical contact grounded them both right now and to let go would feel like letting go emotionally. “I - I can't say I know what it's like to want to take your own life, I've never really had the urge, I mean I've thought about it, I think we all have at some point, but I never really wanted to do it. I do know what it's like to hurt though . . . When my parents died I blamed myself and I thought it was all my fault, no one liked me much at school unless I was playing pranks or acting the fool so I ended up hating the real me, the me that no one got to see. Then Mizuki betrayed me and Naruto left to become a Genin and - and I guess what I'm trying to say is I know what it's like to doubt yourself, to feel bad about things. Not that I'm trying to trivialise what you feel at all!” Iruka gave a nervous laugh and stared up at the ceiling as he scratched his neck nervously, “It's just, I thought you might feel better knowing you're not alone, and - and I don't want you to feel as bad as I did or worse, because it's not a nice feeling, you know?”

 

“A Shinobi isn't meant to feel. He is a tool to be used for his village, nothing more. A true Shinobi doesn't show his feelings . . .”

 

With a twitch of his eyebrow Iruka let go of Kakashi's shoulders to hit him on the back of his head, it wasn't a truly hard hit but powerful enough to shock the moping Jounin into turning his head to make eye-contact with the Chunin, giving a wide-eyed look of fright as he did so. Iruka bit his lip and tried to remain looking firm, granted hitting a suicidal man in most cases could only make things worse but this was Kakashi, he had a feeling that a small blow would do more good in getting him to listen than kind words - or at least he hoped so.

 

“We're Shinobi, that's true,” Iruka said with a slight blush on his cheeks, “But we're also men! We feel pain when our comrades die just the same as anyone else, we feel happy when a mission goes well and angry when Naruto dupes us into paying for what seems like a truckload of ramen. You're entitled to feel upset, to hate yourself, to fell anything! Just don't feel guilty because you do feel. Feeling just proves you're alive, human! I don't want to hear you saying that sort of thing again.”

 

When Iruka could feel his blushing cheeks cool down he turned his gaze back to Kakashi. It seemed he was now stuck between a sad smile and a light frown, his mouth clearly perked up at the corners despite being masked by that navy vest and his eyes dropping despite seemingly content, it was the oddest mixture of happy and sad Iruka had ever seen, as if he wasn't sure what to feel. There was still that unbroken film of water on his eyes, still that furrowing of his eyebrows as he had the look of a lost puppy, and still the way his hair came forward slightly to block the front of his face and shade his expression into a darker sorrow. Perhaps Iruka was looking to deeply but there seemed to be a spark of humanity that wasn't there before, a sense that Kakashi - although vulnerable and exposed - had that feeling of life once more, that he wasn't completely dead to his surroundings. It caused Iruka to sigh and sag in relief but remembering where he was he draped an arm over Kakashi's shoulders and waited, the other was taking his time and absorbing what had been said but that was okay, Iruka had all the time in the world.

 

“Do you know why I wear this mask, Iruka?”

 

The question was so sudden it completely took him by surprise. It was as if it had came out of thin air, a sentence so random and unrelated to the topic at hand that it had no place being asked, yet Iruka knew better than to question it. The pain Kakashi was going through was so agonising and deep that it was impossible to expect the man to outright say what was troubling him, his trust and faith in others would be low right now and more importantly his faith in himself was non-existent, to confess his deepest emotional state would open that wound in him and expose him completely. It would take time to reveal what was going on in his mind, it would take patience to coax that information from him in a way that would be non-judgemental and reassuring, and most of all it would take time for his pain to heal and to go away, if it ever would go away completely that is . . .

 

“No, I don't know,” He replied keeping his arm around the other.

 

“People always used to think it was because I looked like him,” Kakashi said softly, sadly, “The White Fang. I wore the mask when he was alive just the same as I did when he was dead. When he was alive people always thought I tried to distance myself from him, tried to be seen as my own person by forcing my own identity, if I didn't look like him then I couldn't be compared to him. When he died people more-or-less assumed the same thing. Who would want to look like the man who had disgraced his village, been forced to take his own life? Who would want to go around wearing the face of a coward? So the rumours began that I wore the mask to become someone else, so I wouldn't be compared to him . . .”

 

“That wasn't the reason?”

 

“No. The reason is that each time I look in the mirror I hate what I see, and if I can't even bear to look at me how can I expect anyone else to?” It was then a silver tear cascaded down Kakashi's cheek, it was the last thing Iruka had expected and the sight of the Jounin shedding his pain in such a way caused his own heart to ache, it was all he could do not to cry himself as he tried to hold on and listen all he could. “I was the one who found his body. The White Fang dead on the floor, so much blood that the tatami mats are stained to this day, I should replace them but I can't bring myself to even so much as visit that house . . . Even my dogs won't go near that room. I could never understand, why he would leave me, I understand his disgrace and his pain but I was his son, his child . . . Isn't a parent meant to love a child no matter what, and yet he left me, he would rather die than live a life with his son. What could I have done that could revolt him so much that he preferred death to me? I tried to change after that. I thought if I was no longer the boy he knew perhaps that would make me a better person, someone people could love, and someone who wasn't so detestable.

 

“It didn't work. I became the perfect ninja, I followed all rules effortlessly and completed all missions as asked, yet no matter how rigidly I obeyed the rules and changed my personality I still led them to their deaths. . . I still killed them. Obito died because of me. He died because of my mistakes! First I caused the death of my father and then my teammate. What does that make me, Iruka? What does that make me? I - I failed as a Jounin and let him go off alone and it led to his death, his final gift to me was the Sharingan but I don't deserve it. Rin was driven insane shortly after. Minato died protecting our village. Is it right I'm the only one of the team left alive? I couldn't stop the Hokage from dying, I couldn't stop Itachi from defeating me in battle, and I couldn't stop Sasuke from leaving. Where is my worth? I am a Shinobi first and foremost! If I fail as a Shinobi I fail as a man. I have no meaning to my life if I have no meaning as a Ninja . . .

 

“I'm alone but it's no one's fault but my own. It's because of me that those I love leave me or die, I drive them to it one way or another, it's a wonder I haven't driven that kunai into my heart long ago.”

 

Unable to stand anymore Iruka threw his other arm around them man and pulled him down into a powerful yet gentle hug, holding him as tight as he could without hurting the Jounin. He could feel Kakashi tense under him, his whole body hard like rock and unmoving like stone, his forehead lay against Iruka's shoulder so that the smell of scented shampoo floated from Kakashi's hair to tickle his nose, and with the other so unmoving and resisting Iruka felt as though he'd perhaps crossed a line and made the other feel more uncomfortable than before. It was then he felt large, muscular arms encircling and felt an almost nuzzling sensation at his neck, it seemed his hug was being returned after all - almost as if it was the first time Kakashi had ever felt anyone hold him in such a way - and it caused Iruka's heart to melt and hold onto him all the more.

 

How had he missed this? Kakashi had been holding this pain inside him for so long, years upon years! He'd blamed himself for the deaths of people who he couldn't possibly have saved, his blamed himself for events that were completely beyond his control, he despised himself and hated himself and hid his face for the fact he hated his own reflection so desperately. Surely all this pain should have revealed itself at some point? Surely there were hints or clues that this man may try to take his own life? Now Iruka looked back there were so many clues he was shocked he'd missed them, shocked he'd been unable to do anything about them, and the guilt was eating at him in such a way it was like a gnawing at his own soul. He wasn't sure what to do now either. He couldn't report this to Tsunade else Kakashi would lose his job as a Shinobi, and by what he'd heard that was how Kakashi defined himself and his purpose for living, without being a Shinobi then he'd have no reason at all to live, nothing to define `Kakashi' and nothing to keep him fighting onwards. So what did that mean? He couldn't be left alone, clearly, and Iruka wasn't a trained counsellor, could he even help bring Kakashi's mind back to full health, what if he made things worse? If Kakashi couldn't be left alone then where would he stay, evidently he refused to go back to the home his father owned and that he himself now owned, but this apartment was little more than a large box and Iruka certainly couldn't live here! What would Kakashi do on missions or when Iruka was teaching? Would he be okay even for that long?

 

There was only one thing that Iruka was certain of though and that was that he would never, never leave Kakashi. He owed the other so much and he loved him more than life itself, he would not betray him and leave him in his hour of need, he'd find a way to bring him out of this if it was the last thing he did, he simply had to! Stroking the Jounin's hair he drew in a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling with a look of hope and fear . . .

 

“You're not alone anymore, Kakashi,” He said sweetly, “I won't leave you.”

 

He could feel the other's chest heave beneath him with silent laughter, “That's what they all say.”

 

Iruka pouted as he tried his hardest not to frown, “Well in that case let me be the first to prove it, let me show you that I mean it. I'm not going to leave you. I'm going to help you through this.”

 

The only answer he received was a heavy silence, the chest beneath him still heaved heavily but this time Iruka was unsure whether it was still that cynical laughter or heart-wrenching sobs . . .

 

All he knew was that he couldn't leave.

 

Not now . . .