With This Ring...ch. 9: A Solid Foundation
Title: With This Ring…
Summery: Iruka reluctantly agrees to an arranged marriage in order to save his adopted family from financial ruin...and is horrified when Hatake Kakashi rises to the offer.
Rating: PG-13, rating my go up
Genre: AU/Canon, Humor, angst, eventual romance.
Notes: Special thanks and dedication goes to Anon for finding my Prompt on kakairu_kink
Additional Link AO3 Mirror Link
The Story from the Beginning
Author's notes: Wheeeeeeew, finally this chapter is done! Two things happened while I was writing this chapter: Firstly the hard drive of my old laptop crashed and died forever (there was many tears involved) and as a result the majority of this chapter was typed on a smartphone (there was much cursing over all those tiny, tiny little buttons and autocorrect) until I could finally afford a new computer to be delivered overseas.
Secondly, is the length of this chapter (twenty pages in 12pt format, what the hell was I thinking...) my dilemma was that I could not find an appropriate break in the middle of the story to leave on a satisfying note, so here's two chapter's worth in one go.
I thank every reader of this story, especially those who have taken the time to comment ^_^ Thank you everyone!
Ch. 10 A Solid Foundation
Iruka had fled to the one place left in the world that he could remotely call his own: the tiny office in the upper floor of the Administration Building. The teleportation smoke cleared to reveal the reassuring familiarity of a room that contained his paperwork-cluttered desk and wooden shelves that bowed under the weight of heavy textbooks. Those walls now seemed to be closing in on him. Iruka sagged limply against the door as the full weight of his actions came crashing down. "Oh no…" he moaned as he slid to the floor. The priceless Haniwa silk whispered in protest against the rough fibers of the wood. "Oh no, no, no!" Iruka buried his face into his hands.
What had possessed him to spectacularly fuck everything up!?
He had attacked Kakashi. He, Umino Iruka, a low-born chuunin school teacher, had knocked the Hatake Kakashi out cold before the jounin's peers and the Fire County elite. It was an unforgivable show of weakness on Kakashi's part, and Iruka had all but publicly declared war on the Hatake clan. The marital contract was beyond broken. Not only had Iruka thwarted the Sarutobi clan's one chance at salvation but he had also single handedly destroyed the credibility of two shinobi houses in one literal blow of a humble sake cask.
A hysterical giggle bubbled in Iruka's throat and he choked it back before it could break him. He felt giddy from the adrenaline quivering throughout his limbs that had no place to go and he absently ran a shaky hand through his hair, his nails digging painfully into his scalp in a vain attempt to control the rising panic. The ivory kanzashi comb plopped to the floor. Iruka's shoulder length hair tumbled loose over his face, a dark curtain that could not shield him from the harsh facts laid before him.
He had thought that his life had been destroyed before, but it was nothing compared to now. The Sarutobi elders would attempt to save face by unanimously voting to publicly disown Iruka before the day was through. Iruka didn't even have his apartment to crawl back to. He would be thrown to the streets with nothing more than a depleted bank account and a cardboard box to his name. Worse than anything else, was the prospect that he could never again meet the Hokage's eyes without shame.
Cocooned as he was inside his despair, it took a moment for Iruka to register the light tap against the door.
"Iruka? May I come in?"
Every muscle in Iruka's body stiffened at the voice and icy dread pooled into the pit of his stomach. Without a word Iruka gathered his nerves and his feet, then reached to slide open the door with a trembling hand.
The Hokage slipped through the small opening between door and wall. Age had stooped the Sandaime to fall a head shorter than Iruka but his mere force of presence more than made up for his frail stature. The shinobi leader of the Fire Country closed the door and spared the cluttered office a single glance before settling on the distraught chuunin. The elderly man radiated authority in his every move as well as a deadly grace that belied his age. The long stemmed pipe was back in place, of which the Sandaime puffed as he waited for a response from his adopted son, his gaze penetrative under the wide brimmed Hokage hat.
"Hokage-sama," Iruka mumbled. He had retreated against the work desk to give his elder more space inside the cramped room. Despite all the years built between them he could never bring himself to address his foster father beyond the respective title. Privately, Iruka had never felt more than an awkward boy around the elder man, and he especially felt so now with hands clasped guiltily behind his back as he obediently awaited punishment.
"You have been avoiding me." The Hokage's statement boomed inside the small room yet managed to remain flavorless of emotion.
Iruka's eyes dropped to the floor. This was a voice that he recognized from delegation meeting when the Hokage addressed an unsavory crowd before voicing a verdict.
"And you are angry, as well." The Hokage's perceptive words caused a new strain of shame to color Iruka's face, and the chuunin braced himself.
"And you have every right to feel so." A sad smile entered the Sandaime's voice when it became apparent that Iruka would not reply. "It was never my intention to invite you into the Sarutobi clan if this was what fate had in store for you."
Iruka could not meet his foster father's gaze. He stared at a fixed point on the floor. An inner voice screamed to grovel before the Hokage and beg for forgiveness, but Iruka had frozen in place. Forgiveness was not an option at this point, anyways.
The Hokage continued. "You have always been one to take the burden of the world upon your shoulders," he said with a dry chuckle. "It is one thing that I admire about you, that tenacity to see a task through with little thought of the consequences to yourself." The Hokage’s expression softened. "Political marriages are a heavy burden to those not born into that expectation, especially among the ruling shinobi houses. No matter what anyone may say or how you may feel, know that there is always a choice for the sake of your own well being, my son. There is no shame to be selfish in a serious matter such as marriage."
The Hokage made sense of the world when it appeared to be spinning out of control, and Iruka could feel himself coming undone by those gentle words that held no trace of reprimand or scorn. The bitter resentment that had festered inside Ituka at the injustice of his situation, of which he had pushed aside under the fast pace of events had evaporated from his foster father's reassurance. Iruka did not deserve to be called his son.
"With all due respect, Hokage-sama," Iruka's words were a leaden weight to hold back the floodgates. "What I did does not excuse my actions. The Hatake clan will demand a public restitution for my offense." It took every ounce of courage to voice his own verdict. "I wholeheartedly accept the consequences that you and the Elders must take to avoid this scandal, but I will save you the trouble by personally withdrawing my name from the Sarutobi family scrolls before the day is through."
The Hokage snorted at the gloomy confession. "You are still young to think this is a public scandal worrisome enough to bring down a clan house. You should try living to my tender age of seventy three, then I guarantee you will witness worse that could ruin a family name." The Hokage sobered. "You should have more faith in Kakashi-san. He is not the type to make such demands, let alone intentionally shame a comrade."
"He's done plenty of that already," Iruka said with venom. "He has made a fool out of me right from the start. I know now that he has no respect for me or this union."
"Iruka--"
"Forgive me Hokage-sama," Iruka spoke in earnest over the elder man. "You took me in when no one else would bother. A family and a clan name was more than I could have ever hoped after my parents died." The floodgates had opened. Iruka lifted his eyes to meet his foster father, his jaw firmly set into a stubborn line. "I will redeem myself by fulfilling the contract to marry Hatake Kakashi. I'll probably have to gag his mouth with a sealing jutsu first--"
"Really, I insist--" The Hokage attempted to interrupt.
Iruka refused to be deterred. "--but I will endure whatever task he may request from me and perform without fail, for the sake of our clans and the village we serve." Iruka felt his jaws clench at the humiliation of Kakashi's last words at the reception "Even if he is a self-centered prick of an asshole that can't see beyond the punch line of a joke."
The Hokage visibly grimaced at those last words. With a wordless shrug he stepped back to slide open the door. "I did try to warn you."
Iruka's jaw dropped.
"Yo." Kakashi greeted with a little wave. The copy-nin was a sight to behold. The exposed flesh around the hitate-ate and mask where the sake cask had found its mark was starting to purple from a spectacular bruise with the visible eye nearly swollen shut. The perfectly sculpted silver mane was bent askew from where his head had hit the floor. By the jounin’s demeanor Iruka had no doubt whatsoever that the copy-nin had overheard every single word. Could this hellish day get any worse?
"Maa, Iruka-sensei, you look as if you have just been given sentence for your own execution."
Apparently it could.
The Sandaime Hokage coughed into his fist to bring attention to himself. "I will return downstairs to distract the guests until you two are ready." The Hokage gave Iruka a last reassuring smile before departing from the room. "Whatever you decide, know that you are still my son and will always have a place in the Sarutobi clan."
The snap of the door sliding shut behind the Hokage resounded like a coffin lid closing over the two men. The quiet ticking of the wall clock was all that could be heard as the awkward minutes stretched with both shinobi studying the small floor space between them.
"How were you able to get here?" Iruka found himself asking as a means to dispel the silence. Kakashi could not have evaded the guests without offering some sort of an explanation.
"I slipped away with a shadow clone taking my place." The jounin replied with a shrug. "It is happily taking a nap on the podium as we speak. Nobody besides the Hokage knows that we're here."
Iruka lifted his gaze to study Kakashi and was taken aback by what he saw. The copy-nin was the picture of dejection; his shoulders slumped and face staring morosely at the floor, and it reminded Iruka of one of his students caught cheating on a test. Such a look did not suit the elite copy-nin. But as an experienced teacher, Iruka was not easily swayed by such a display and made a low challenging growl in his throat. "I'm not sorry for what I said."
"I have no doubt about that," Kakashi agreed. "I haven't been particularly helpful, as you say." He gingerly tapped his swollen eye before adding begrudgingly under his breath "I think I deserved it…for a lot of things."
Iruka worried the bottom of his lip. The wall clock ticked quietly in the background. He brushed aside a loose strand of hair from tickling his nose. “What I did was very unprofessional of me." It was not a true apology but it was the closest that Iruka was willing to give. Nonetheless, Iruka felt obliged to return the jounin's humbleness with a dose of his own. "I've been hearing some 'talk' about you and me," Iruka muttered and avoided Kakashi's gaze by smoothing the wrinkles from his forest green kimono. "Well, about myself mostly." He flushed. "I did not like what was said."
"Ah." For a moment Kakashi was silent as he digested the implication behind the statement. "I've been hearing people 'talk' for as far back as I can remember." His words were deliberate and carefully chosen. "Behind closed doors my family would whisper with contempt that my father had not included me to his grave. Shinobi would openly gossip of the strange boy who feared to show his face. The villagers were the worst, especially during times of peace when there was little else to add color to their boring lives. People will always like to ‘talk,’ and there’s nothing that you or I can do to stop them." His mouth twitched under the mask. "It’s easy for me to forget that words can cut deeply as any wound. I suppose that I've learned to stab back in turn, though my mouth has a habit of running ahead of my brain."
Kakashi took two strides to bridge the gap between them, and to Iruka's surprise Kakashi reached out to clasp the chuunin's hands, abalone white fingers encircling cinnamon brown. "I've cut you deeply, Iruka-sensei. I don't expect forgiveness, but I promise to be more...accommodating of what I say."
Iruka was at a loss for words. For a brief moment suspicion compelled him to search for a hidden trap or a barb. The truth of the matter was he did not know how to react to an amiable Kakashi. Asshole Kakashi Iruka could deal with. Obliging Kakashi was someone entirely new. Iruka swallowed hard before asking with trepidation "You're…not angry that I hit you?"
"Far from it," Kakashi chuckled, a warm sound that filled the room. "Truth be told Iruka-sensei, that little love tap with the sake cask was what had really convinced me to commit." Kakashi made a poor attempt at a wink with his swollen eye. "I like a man that can stand his ground with hackles raised."
Iruka gave the Kakashi an incredulous look. Jounin were fucking crazy. Iruka retrieved his hands and folded them over his chest under the luminous kimono sleeves. He cleared his throat and settled a flat stare upon the other man. "I might give you more than a black eye next time."
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Kakashi grinned "A sake cask can only take so much abuse."
"You're thick headed enough as it is," Iruka bantered with a small smile. The tension inside the room had lessened considerably, though a taut thread remained ready to snap from a careless misstep.
Kakashi fidgeted for want of something to divert the awkward silence before resettle between them. His eye fell upon the ivory kanzashi comb lying forgotten on the hardwood floor. He stooped to pick it up and regarded Iruka's loose hair with a slight inclination of his head. "May I?"
In answer, Iruka turned his back and lowered to his knees, an invitation to build upon the fragile truce budding between them. Kakashi stepped behind and combed his fingers through the Iruka's dark hair, and seemed to relish the feel of silken strands gliding like water over his skin. Those deadly hands gently massaged Iruka's scalp to soothe away some of the tension.
A faint moan parted from Iruka's lips as knot between his temples gave way to a blissful moment of mental release. His eyes snapped open before he could further succumb under that spell. "How in the hell am I supposed to return to the ceremony?" He was mortified to face that crowd downstairs.
"I suppose you can go about it two ways," Kakashi hummed as he smoothed the chuunin's hair. "You can behave as the courtiers expect you to, utterly humbled and cowed with your tail tucked between your legs..." Kakashi gathered the brunet locks up into one fist before fishing for the ivory kanzashi comb tucked inside his obi belt. "Or you can take advantage of this opportunity to assert your dominant status above me."
"Dominence!?" Iruka sputtered. "We're hardly dealing with your ninkin pack here!"
"I've found over the years that the principles of canine hierarchy can easily apply to human behavior," Kakashi said as he fastened the ivory comb. He grinned. "And you did manage to put me in place when I threatened to deflower your honor. I think that would put you on top of the pecking order before all the guests, in terms of pack mentality."
Iruka considered as Kaskashi fluffed the ends of his gathered ponytail as a finishing touch. "So in other words..." Iruka said slowly "I could do what's least expected of me to gain the upper hand."
"It's what I've always done..." Kakashi replied. With Iruka's grooming completed his hands fell to his sides. "That is, until I've met someone who can just as easily unbalance me."
Iruka rose from the floor to face the other man. They were almost of a height and he only had to tilt his gaze to meet the single eye that was nearly hidden under purpling flesh. He was standing so close to the jounin. He tentatively lifted a hand to Kakashi's face, his fingers hovering over the swollen skin, than gave into the impulse to run his fingers through the glued spikes to ruffle his silver hair back into a semblance of its natural state. Iruka stepped back to smile at the perplexed expression on Kakashi's face. "I like you more this way."
There was no denying the faint blush that blossomed under Kakashi's mask. “Well, it’s a good thing that I don't upstage you." He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. "In that kimono getup you look like you’ve just stepped out from a storybook."
Iruka was momentarily stunned by those words that mirrored his own sentiment the day before. He felt a hesitant glow blossom inside his chest from the compliment and averted his eyes before Kakashi could see the blush rising in his cheeks, of which he was aware that was further heightened by his pale scar.
"I'm sorry if that sounded cheesy." Kakashi hastily added, misinterpreting Iruka’s gesture.
“No, it’s fine.” Iruka met Kakashi’s eyes and smiled. “Thank you.”
Kakashi felt the heat intensify under his mask. The chuunin-sensei had never smiled at him in such a way before. A thought occurred to him. "Can I…use my Sharingan?" he asked hesitantly.
Iruka's smile faltered. "What for?"
"I want to remember you--I mean us, as we are right now." Kakashi swallowed "If that’s all right with you."
Iruka strode behind his desk to rummage for a compact mirror. He returned to stand beside Kakashi with the mirror in palm, adjusting the angle for their reflections to meet. Iruka’s features were drawn from the stress and sleepless nights of the past few days, and could not be entirely masked underneath his now impeccable hair and finery of the Haniwa Kimono. Iruka’s bloodshot eyes flickered to study Kakashi with his silvery mane in wild mess and the exposed Sharingan a vivid red contrast to the swollen purple one.
"Don't we make a fine pair" The chuunin chuckled. "I guess we're in this together now, for better or worse."
"We'll make it through somehow." Kakashi said into the mirror. His voice had fallen back to a casual tone as he examined his bruised eye critically. “I think I’ll be wearing this for a few weeks. You sure know how to pack a punch!”
“By the way," Iruka returned the lighthearted tone with a dry quirk of his lips. "I hope that you were not referring to those vulgar Icha Icha books when you made that storybook reference about my kimono."
"I think you are wearing too many layers for Jiraiya-san's tastes, but then again it would depend on what's hiding underneath." Kakashi’s mask stretched over an impish grin. “At least now I can trust that you will give me a black eye over a knife in the back.”
Iruka smiled a little too sweetly. “Don’t push your luck.” His expression made Kakashi look away with a guilty flush to his cheeks and nervously scratch his scar underneath the Sharingan eye.
It was then that Iruka resigned himself to the fact that he would have to start counting to ten to help keep his temper in check. Perhaps he and Kakashi would make it to old age with most of the jounin’s teeth intact, but at least for now they had some sort of a foundation that they could start to build upon.
****
The reception room had turned into a scene of subdued chaos during the last fifteen minutes since Iruka’s dramatic escape. The majority of the bedecked courtiers were standing in outrageous defiance for an explanation from a stoic Saindame Hokage, of whom he and his sister Sarutobi Akemi evaded all questions by quietly smoking on their pipes and wordlessly blowing smoke into the faces of the more short-tempered guests. Akemi would flaunt her heavy battle pipe in a manner that made the nobles stand a good five paces away from the ceremonial podium. A fair number of the courtiers had flocked to the main entrance in the back of the room to demand leave at once. The wife of the Damiyo’s brother had been revived with smelling salts and was sipping cool mint tea as attendants provided a breeze with gilded fans. Her husband glowered with impatience at his delegates, who were unsuccessfully trying to negotiate passage through the masked ANBU guarding the main door. Tenzou Yamato was as impassive as a brick wall, and he was determined not to allow a few courtiers who have had their feathers ruffled decide the fate of his senpai’s wedding day.
In contrast to nobility’s fiery tempers most of the shinobi clansmen had calmly remained in their seats to drain the last of the free sake reserves. Some of the clansmen debated amongst themselves on the subject of the secret wager between bride and groom. It was a hot topic as the monetary pot was currently set at over 500,000 ryo, which was more than what most S Class missions were worth. Inuzuka Tsume and Nara Shikaku were engaged in a fierce debate on whether the pot should be immediately cashed out to the winner or not, of which Shikaku would eloquently argue “It’s not over until the fat lady sings!”
Throughout the hubbub Kakashi’s shadow clone was left mostly forgotten under the presentation table on the podium with Hyuuga Yukari and her son Hizashi stoically standing guard in their hard-won seat of honor next to the Hokage’s family. The Hyuuga clansmen inclined their heads when they heard a small ‘pop’ beneath the table, and Kakashi emerged into view with an audible groan. The copy-nin blinked through his swollen eye at the awaiting crowd as if in a daze. “Am I married yet?” he blearily asked.
“This is an outrage!” One of the bolder courtiers stepped forward with his temper quivering like a boiling tea kettle and a complexion to match. “The Hokage has refused to answer any questions on the whereabouts of your bride.” The red faced courtier spat the word out like a curse. “This farce of a wedding is an insult to us all! We who have traveled far from--”
“He’s missing!?” Kakashi feigned a rather believable expression of disbelief as he looked to his right at the Hyuuga clansmen for answers. Both Yukari and Hizashi returned an imperious glare that silently acknowledged that they had both saw through Kakashi’s shadow-clone ruse with their Byakyugan eyes. Kakashi ignored them and turned back to demand of the sputtering delegate “Why did no one bother wake me?”
Before the courtier could answer there was a commotion at the other end of the room as a tremor of anticipation rippled throughout the crowd and prompted the guests to hurriedly reclaim their seats. The entire room fell silent when Tenzou Yamato stepped aside to open the main doors.
Sarutobi Umino Iruka glided into the reception room with all the detached interest of a prince on his way to partake in afternoon tea. Iruka did not see the bewildered faces of the wedding guests nor heard their dark mutterings as he swept past the tables. Iruka held his head high as he focused at an unfixed point on the podium above Kakashi’s head. He was a swan quietly churning the waters of a pond without rippling the surface, a cool pillar of stoic serenity. When he reached the podium he turned to face the table seated by the highest ranking members of Damiyo nobility, the gradient hues of the Haniwa kimono shimmered through his movements like leaves dancing in the wind. Iruka knelt to perform a deep bow until his bare forehead nearly touched the floor and he addressed the Damiyo’s brother in a gravely formal voice clear enough for the entire room to hear.
“Please forgive this one Sarutobi Umino Iruka, honorable Tajimanaka Ansoebi Fukadoshina Shuie-sama of the Nakayama House, overseer of the Three-Fold Valley and of the blood and voice to our esteemed Damiyo of the Fire Country. I beg for your forgiveness of my intrusion of your time and of upsetting the inner peace of your gentle wife, Lady Eiekawa Katoe Hotaruko Shizuka of the Nakayama-Battoeh House, Keeper of the sacred Eijeh Chalice and of the blood and voice to our esteemed Damiyo of the Fire Country.” Iruka continued after a brief pause for breath. “If I may request, I humbly ask for your gracious permission for this unworthy person such as myself to complete my matrimonial vows to the honorable shinobi Kakashi of the Hatake Clan before your honorable presence.”
Sweat trickled down the small of Iruka’s back as he waited for an answer. With his head bowed he could not have seen the Damiyo’s brother blink in mild surprise at the eloquently delivered speech of himself and his spouse’s full titles. “Quite amusing, this day has become,” the man answered in a light tenor that reminded one of a songbird. “Indeed, I have never encountered such brutish violence at a wedding ceremony before today. Usually the bride would poison the groom with the sake than brutishly bash him over the head with it.” The highborn noble modestly hid an approving smile behind a golden fan when his offhanded remark did not illicit even a twitch from the kneeling shinobi. “Very well, I permit my pardon for the upset of my courtiers and esteemed wife. As for myself, I do believe that I am made of sterner stuff.”
Iruka touched his forehead to the floor. “My deepest thanks, Tajimanaka Ansoebi Fukudo-“
“Yes yes,” the noble cut off the chuunin’s acceptance speech with an impatient wave of his fan. “Indeed, I am interested to see how this ceremony will conclude. Perhaps I shall consider attending more inside Konoha village if they promise to be just as…amusing.”
At the noble’s dismissive tone Iruka rose to deliver a deep bow before the courtiers and another at the wedding party on the ceremonial podium before reclaiming his seat next to Kakashi with solemn grace. The Saindaime Hokage, Sarutobi Akemi and even Hyuuga Yukari acknowledged Iruka with approving nods of how he had placidly handled the courtiers. The Hokage inclined his head to the awaiting Shinto priest in a silent command for the ceremony to begin. The priest was an elderly man in flowing white robes and sported a thin beard that nearly trailed to the ground. The priest waved impatiently for his attendants to remove the presentation table and motioned both Kakashi and Iruka to turn in their seats to face the podium.
Kakashi’s visible eye had taken on a peculiar shade similar to that of an eggplant. The jounin was practically bursting with pride and did not bother to hide the almost maniacal grin under his mask. Iruka blinked at Kakashi’s strange expression and fixed his attention on the Shinto priest who commenced the start of the ceremony by waving a twig harvested from a sacred tree. Long paper streamers trailed from the end of the twig, and the fluttering white streamers engaged the onlookers as the priest began to chant in a deep droning voice that resounded throughout the room like a gong.
A low murmur whispered behind the couple as the guests speculated on the sudden change of Iruka’s demeanor and Kakashi’s apparent nonchalance after being attacked by his bride-to-be. Iruka stiffened as if those voices were needles stabbing into his back. It was much more difficult to ignore his surroundings while idly sitting down with nothing to do but wait. Iruka rested his hands over his lap and his fingers trembled ever-so-slightly, a small crack in his self-imposed serenity. He gripped the fabric of the Haniwa kimono to still them. Kakashi tilted his swollen eye to give Iruka a reassuring smile though it was apparent that he was nervous as well, as evidenced by how the jounin absently drummed his fingers against his knees.
The attendants brought forth a black lacquer tray bearing three shallow saucers of bone-white porcelain of varying sizes, from a small cup that could barely fit inside Iruka’s palm to one that required two hands to properly hold. The cups contained carefully measured portions of purified sakes for the ‘SanSanKudo’, or the ‘Three Sips Equals Nine’ ritual. It was the oldest of traditions dating before the Shinobi Wars and one observed at weddings in all the Shinibi Nations. The attendants carefully placed the tray between the couple and retreated to the foreground. Behind the three cups almost as an afterthought, was a small ornate box containing two matching wedding bands engraved with the symbol of the Leaf.
The priest did not break his monotonous drone as he mentioned for Kakashi to pick up the smallest of the cups. Kakashi tilted his head in a bow before partaking three sips before passing it to Iruka to do the same. Iruka nearly fumbled as his palms were sweaty, and he drained the sake in three hasty sips. Iruka wished that the purified sake wine was stronger. When he finished it felt as if a door was beginning to close shut behind him. There was no turning back now. Once the third sake cup had been drained the marriage pact would be officially sealed. The wedding rings were more of a physical symbol of their union and would be exchanged at the conclusion of the ceremony.
Kakashi finished the medium sized cup and passed it to Iruka, who was more conscious to be steady with his hands. The jounin was grinning like a loon under his mask. The grace of the Shinto priest’s movements faltered when he caught sight of the strange expression on the copy-nin’s face, and the priest shot furtive glances between the jounin and the bride as if he were afraid Iruka would again violently snap. The elderly priest increased the tempo of his chant to conclude the ceremony in due haste.
Iruka accepted the largest sake cup after Kakashi had finished taking three sips and drained the remaining contents in three hard gulps, and as the last drop passed his lips he felt the door firmly close shut. They were now officially married, except for one last thing...
With trepidation Iruka picked up Kakashi’s ring. He could feel Kakashi intently watching his grim expression as he slid the broad gold band over the jounin’s left ring finger. Kakashi did the same but with more fluidity in his motions, and as the cold metal enveloped his finger Iruka involuntarily twitched with the urge to pull away. The warmth of Kakashi’s pale fingers brushed against the darker shade of the chuunin’s skin in a brief soothing motion, and Iruka’s eye caught the glint of gold from the jounin’s left hand. Their eyes met, and Iruka’s lips quirked at the Kakashi’s poor attempt at a wink through his bruised eye, and he relaxed enough to allow Kakashi to complete sliding on his ring.
They were really and truly married now.
As instructed by Yukari, the pair stood to face the crowd with their ringed hands clasped for all to see. The audience erupted into a loud applause as the newly married couple bowed together before the guests. When they straightened Hatake Kakashi was still grinning that strange smile of his and Hatake Umino Iruka smiled as if the conclusion of the ceremony was his heart’s desire, but really all Iruka wanted was to find something much stronger than the ceremonial sake wine to see the rest of the long day through.
****
Within the hour during the banquet Iruka had received his wish for stronger alcohol. As a result, the remainder of the day blurred together in a long series of events with himself and Kakashi sitting at the podium as every single guest returned to the podium to again deliver their well-wishes and congratulations to the married couple. The proceedings was then followed by a massive banquet where Iruka possessed no appetite other than for a few tiny dishes of pickled vegetables and one steamed bun filled with sweet bean paste. The formal banquet was followed by the bride and groom standing to mingle with the crowd of wedding guests to partake in informal conversation.
The Hokage was the first to approach Iruka. “I am proud of you,” The Sandaome Hokage said with a smile. “You have done a great service to our family.”
Iruka shrugged as if the matter of his marriage was of no great importance. His sake cup was still half full. “Hokage-sama, I had vowed to lay down my life for this village. I would do the same for the Sarutobi clan, whether I was a part of it or not.”
“There’s no need for to be dramatic,” The elder man chuckled, and shot a jaundiced eye at a noble delegate creeping up behind Iruka to intercede on their private conversation. The delegate bounced back to a respectable distance, but more were gathering awaiting the chance to strike an audience with the Hokage. The Sandaime sighed in exasperation and delivered the sum of what he had wanted to say to his son. “I guarantee that Kakashi-san is not as bad as an S-Class mission, though now it might seem so.” The Sandaime reached to pat Iruka’s hands over the sake cup. “I have high hopes that you two would be able to get along, in time. The path to reach it might be rocky but do take time to enjoy the flowers you might find on the way.” The Sandaime released Iruka’s hands and stepped away, and in an instant he was surrounded by the delegates and disappeared from sight.
Iruka was still digesting the Sandaime’s words when Yukari approached with silent Hizashi close behind. “You will have a rocky road ahead with Kakashi,” she warned in her usual no-nonsense tone. “But I do believe you have the constitution to see past his faults and provide some stability to both your clans. To quote the poet Tanaka Hiromu: ‘Flower petals will soften the stones beneath yon traveler’s feet, if there is grace to tread the path lightly.’”
“I hope so…” Iruka was somewhat confident that he was not slurring his words too terribly. He had almost no idea of what Yukari was eluding to. All these talks of flowers and rocks were beginning to blur together. And how many sake flasks did he finish so far…four or five?
“I certainly do not envy you your position,” Yukari said with a dry quirk her lips. She appeared to be mildly amused by Iruka’s condition. “My only advice to you is to remember that marriage is first and foremost a partnership sey on a balanced scale, and is only maintained when both parties willingly share the burden together.” The silver comb atop her bound hair bobbed in agreement to her own words. “There will be times when either of you must carry the entire weight for the sake of the other, but that is what it means to be married. If the balance can be maintained through understanding and a little patience then there is a real possibility for contentment, and even a measure of happiness.” The Hyuuga Matron tapped her mahogany cane against the floor to emphasize her point. “Take my advice from one who had been married to the head of the Hyuuga house for over sixty years, and has inherited those duties as a widow in the last ten.”
Iruka blinked at Yukari. “So…exactly how old are you!?” he demanded in a very obvious slur.
Yukari gave a long suffering sigh. “Dear Iruka-kun, please try to remember that you should feel free to visit me for advice if you need anything that is not related to clan politics.” She turned away with another dry quirk to her lips. “But do keep in mind to be careful of what you say in the future. We are now on an even playing ground and we must take care of what is said outside the tea room. The battleground of politics can be just as cutthroat as any scuffle between shinobi out on the field.”
Iruka stood befuddled as the Hyuuga matron ambled away to rejoin her son. The strange encounter Hyuuga Matron was swiftly forgotten when Kakashi appeared at his side. “Yo,” the jounin muttered under his breath, and what could be seen of his normal eye through swollen flesh glanced down at the sake cup in Iruka’s hand. “Been enjoying yourself?”
“Far from it,” Iruka replied cheerfully. “I can’t wait for this all to be over so I can go home and sleep this day off as if it were a baaaad dream!”
Kakashi took the sake wine from Iruka’s hand and ducked to hide his face as he drained it in a single gulp. “Try to eat something,” Kakashi whispered without returning the cup. “We still have a few hours before we can leave.”
“Oh,” Iruka said right before Kakashi disappeared back into the crowd. He really wished that his husband had not stolen his sake cup. ‘Heh. My ‘husband!’ Iruka thought with real surprise. His giddy bark of a laugh startled two passing nobles to hasten their steps as they practically fled from the bride.
****
More than a few hours later Kakashi experienced a rather enlightening encounter with the younger sister to the Hokage. The elegant Sarutobi Akemi was all smiles and congratulations on the surface, but she made it clear through small gestures with her battle pipe that she would be the first to pay Kakashi a visit if the jounin intended to harm Iruka in any way, and that there were several Sarutobi clansmen at her beck and call to help bolster her threat.
Iruka received a similar encounter from his neighbor-to-be Morino Kaeno, with her hulking battle-scarred son Ibiki standing silent as a shadow behind his plump mother. Kaeno used her favorite pair of chopsticks to colorfully illustrate her point across, of which Iruka’s flushed complexion became increasingly paler as the conversation progressed until Kakashi could interfere to politely steer his husband toward a glowering Akemi, who immediately brightened at the chance to speak with her nephew.
With their places now safely exchanged Kakashi turned to have a private word with his neighbor. He shot a meaningful glance at Ibiki, who took the unspoken hint to step out of earshot. “Was it really necessary to intimidate him?” Kakashi asked.
“Absolutely,” Kaeno grinned. “That boy should be aware that he is not the only one with people to depend on if things turn rough.”
“Why would you think that would be a problem?” Kakashi asked, genuinely curious. His smiling neighbor was a woman who’s motives tended to not to be all that appeared on the surface.
“Because you are a hard man, Kakashi-san,” Kaeno’s ever present smile faded to one of utmost seriousness. “You have been forged by the fires of war and have been tempered by the blood of those you have slain, but even the best metal can shatter from a single crack.” She edged closer, and Kakashi had to stoop to hear what she whispered for his ears alone. “It is the quiet nights that can undo us in the end. It has been forty years since my last mission and the screams of the dead still keep me awake at night.” She withdrew. “I wanted to plant a seed inside that boy’s head that you are not a statue, Kakashi-san, but a living person in need of companionship during those quiet nights.”
Kakashi’s shoulders twitched as if he had been shocked by an electric current. Kaeno’s words had hit a little to close to home behind his true motive to marry. Surviving to his thirtieth birthday had forced Kakashi to confront the real possibility that he might reach retirement from active duty, and with that realization surfaced a deep seeded fear to spend the remainder of his years isolated inside the Hatake manor with only the ghosts of his past to progressively drive him mad or prompt him to suicide. It was not an uncommon fate for lonely retired jounin, and Kakashi already spent too much time at the memorial stone as it is. “Hmph,” Kakashi grunted and he folded his arms across his chest. “I take it that you speak from personal experience?”
“Indeed,” Kaeno agreed. “My husband was a civilian with absolutely no training in the shinobi arts, but I think that it was his strength that helped carry us through during my twilight years.” The smile returned to her face. “Strength can be gained from the most unexpected of forms, be it a simple gesture or a kind smile. I dearly hope that your husband is one that is capable to help shoulder your burdens, and that you are one that is willing to share them.”
Kakashi was not one to visibly display his true emotions but he made a brief exception this one time for the woman that was the closest that he had ever had to a mother. “You are a perceptive,” he said with real affection.
“Don’t I know it!” Kaeno returned Kakashi’s smile with a toothy grin. “Information is in the Morino family’s business, after all…but it also comes with age and experience.” The stout little woman reached on her tip toes to pinch Kakashi’s cheek, mask and all. She took a step back and inclined her head to beckon her son Morino Ibiki to return. “You should have put ice on that eye hours ago,” she reprimanded.
“At least I have the ninkins to lead me around if it swells shut” Kakashi chuckled as he waved farewell to his neighbor, then turned to check on his husband. Sarutobi Akemi was currently engaged along with the Hokage with a tight group of Damiyo diplomats and appeared to be on the verge of closing a deal. Both the Sarutobi siblings had their heads together in quiet discussion before the sour-faced diplomats who seemed to be getting the stick-end of the deal. Iruka was nowhere to be seen. Kakashi moved unhampered by his wide pinstripe hakima trousers, though the loud rustling of the heavy fabrics grated against his ears as he searched through the crowd.
He found Iruka near the back of the room at low table surrounded by Konoha shinobi clansmen. Nara Shikaku and Maito Gai sat on either side of the chuunin. Gai was in the midst of one of a long-winded speech and Shikaku was busy refilling sake into everyone’s cups. Iruka had a new sake cup in hand and swayed as if ready to fall backwards off his seat. Kakashi made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat. ’Patience,’ he reminded himself ’It has been a long day for the both of us.’ Kakashi did not care whether they offended the uppity nobility or not, it was time for them to leave. Iruka had managed to evade complete disaster with the sake cask incident, but sicking-up over the priceless Haniwa kimono was not the best note to conclude their wedding ceremony. Kakashi wasn’t sure if even the Hokage himself could forgive the newly wedded couple for destroying the crown jewel of the Sarutobi clan’s family fortune.
Kakashi made his presence known at the table by loudly clearing his throat. Iruka grinned up at Kakashi, the pale scar stood out like a beacon against flushed skin. “Heeey,” Iruka slurred and handed the jounin his half-filled cup. “Want mine? I think I be drank…drunking…” he blinked as his tongue stumbled for the right word “Drinking too enough!”
“I did recommend that you ate something,” Kakashi chided as he purposely wedged himself between Shikaku and Iruka. Kakashi rapped the tabletop with his knuckles in a specific tattoo to alert the shinobi that there was urgent business at hand. The five jounin immediately put down their cups to listen. Kakashi inclined his head at Iruka and raised one eyebrow, and the clansmen had enough grace to look abashed. “We need to leave,” Kakashi stated. “And not even the Hokage is going to stop us.”
“What will you have us do?” Tsume asked. The Inuzuka clanswoman was the least intoxicated of the bunch and seemed eager for something to do.
Kakashi quickly laid out his plans “A defensive ring around the target and a distraction for escape.”
“Leave the distracting to me!” Maito Gai lustily sprang from his seat and with much fluttering of his lime-green kimono. The Green Beast paused to scratch his broad chin in consideration. “Kakashi-san, I think that it would be best that you thank the Damiyo’s family before you depart.”
“Agreed,” Yamanaka Inoichi nodded, and his blond pontytail swayed at the motion. “You know how stiff-backed these nobles are about etiquette.”
“Tell me about it!” Akimichi Chozo guffawed. “Shikaku, do you remember that time…” The large shinobi’s words were abruptly cut off by the said Nara clansmen elbowing Akimichi sharply in the ribs. “Oof, oh right. It can wait.” The Akamichi clansmen rubbed at his side with chagrin.
“Then it’s settled,” Kakashi said as he stood. He bent to help Iruka rise from his seat. Iruka had blinked in confusion throughout the entire discussion and wobbled unsteadily on his feet. “Get ready, we’re going home,” Kakashi whispered to him. “And if you need to throw up, do it on me.”
“Why are you so weird!?” Iruka demanded with a hiccup. He was lost from sight when the four shinobi clansmen closed around him in a tight circle formation, their stances were casual but wore hard expressions to deter anyone that might dare to intercede.
Kakashi made his way to the ceremonial podium with Gai in tow. The Damiyo’s family turned in their seats at the sight of the jounin climbing the podium. Kakashi bowed to the Damiyo nobility before proclaiming in a clear voice to capture the crowd. “On behalf of myself and my husband I thank everyone for attending today.” He swept an arm in a grand gesture to include everyone in the room. “It is a great honor to be attended by so many well-wishers. The Sarutobi and Hatake clans are truly blessed to have so many friends.” Someone in the crowd coughed at that, and Kakashi continued without missing a beat. “Despite my rugged appearance I possess a weak heart and I am feeling rather unwell from the excitement of this joyous day, so much that I fear my heart might explode with contentment. However, my new husband has graciously offered to attend to my welfare and take me home-“
“Are you implying that the wedding is over?” A noble cut in with shrill indignation. “I must meet with the Hoka-“
“Not so!” Maito Gai burst into the scene in a single grand leap to join Kakashi on the podium. “The JUBILATION of this momentous day will continue fueled by the PASSION between the honored couple!” The sparkling metallic kunai and shuriken-print against electric green of Gai’s kimono was bedazzling to the eye and provided the distraction needed for the copy-nin to slip away. “I shall VIGOUROUSLY express their LOVE through interpretive dance whist I recite a small selection of poetry dedicated to such YOUTHFUL feelings!” Gai fished a bulky scroll from his robes with flourish and gustily continued “I will commence with my personal favorite by literary genius Miamoto Nasu’s ‘Love is a Bonfire in the Mist…’” The Green Beast of Konoha twirled about on one toe and performed a backward flip which elicited gasps of amazement from the nobility. “Oh, how may I see your eyes BURN through a morning mist, My feeling for you are FUELED by your passionate kiss…“
“Are you ready to go?” Kakashi asked after he had slipped through the protective circle of jounin surrounding the chuunin. Iruka had sobered somewhat and was fidgeting with agitation and appeared fit to burst with a question. “What is it?” Kakashi whispered, on the verge of impatience.
Iruka’s eyes had the look of a cornered animal. “We’re going to your house, aren’t we?” There was real fear in his eyes. He was trapped by Kakashi inside a blockade of shinobi elite with no chance of escape. “Tonight I can’t…I mean, I-I don’t want…” He ducked his head beneath the sleeves of the Haniwa kimono. “Forgive me, Hatake-san, but I can’t do ‘that’ for you,” his muffled voice sounded utterly miserable beneath the shimmering fabric.
Kakashi’s heart twisted a little. So it was not just the stress of the wedding ceremony that had prompted Iruka to drown himself in his cups. “Hey,” he gently folded back the Haniwa kimono sleeves to reveal the dejected chuunin-sensei. “As long as I don’t have anything to fear from you, then you have nothing to fear from me.” Iruka did not appear entirely convinced, but Kakashi could not afford to lose any more time reassuring his troubled husband. The entrapped nobility could only be distracted by Gai’s bad poetry for so long. Kakashi wrapped an arm around Iruka’s shoulders and readied the teleportation jutsu. “Here we go…”
The floor lurched beneath their feet and smoke filled the world...
****
…To be replaced by utter darkness and silence.
Vertigo hit Iruka like a blow. “Ohh…my head!” He lurched forward against Kakashi to clutch the jounin’s robes to keep from pitching over.
Kakashi caught Iruka by the elbows to steady him. “Are you alright?” Despite of what he had said, he really, really hoped that Iruka did not puke all over his grooms wear.
“I think so,” Iruka groaned. The jounin’s chest was a nice place to rest his forehead…and then he realized what he was doing and sharply pulled away. They were indoors inside a closed room with a single window overlooking what appeared to be a garden bathed by the muted colors of moonlight. “Where are we?” Iruka asked, his eyes had yet to adjust to assess his surroundings.
“In your bedroom,” Kakashi said as he stepped around Iruka and began to tug the elaborate knot of the white obi belt loose. Iruka jerked away with a startled noise. “We really should get you out of that kimono,” Kakashi was quite anxious to remove the priceless garment before it could be unintentionally destroyed. As generous as his coffers were Kakashi would likely have to sell a portion of his family estate to compensate for the Sarutobi clan’s loss of the Haniwa kimono, not to mention the respect of a goodly number of Iruka’s family members as well. “I’m not too sure that I could remove vomit stains from antique silk” the jounin elaborated dryly.
“Oh…right.” There was a long pause followed by feet scuffling guiltily against the woven tatami mats. “Sorry,” Iruka mumbled.
Kakashi shrugged, a sound made by the rustling of his bulky kimono as he resumed loosening the knot of the bridal obi from the small of Iruka’s back. “At least you got us to avoid the closing ceremony. I don’t think I could stand another minute brown-nosing to the Damiyo nobility.” The obi belt fell free and was quickly followed by the Haniwa kimono, which easily slipped free from Iruka’s outstretched arms. Kakashi spread the Haniwa kimono over a prepared futon bed on the floor and knelt to fold it with utmost care so as to not wrinkle the fabric.
Iruka wanted to laugh at how quickly Kakashi had managed to remove his wedding kimono, considering all the hours of preparation it had taken to don it on. Iruka was left standing in the two layers of undergarments the outer of which was designed to add bulk to the decorative outer kimono, a stiff cream-colored nagajuban. The second layer was a thin white linen shift to protect both kimono and nagajuban from contamination of the wearer. Both were cut in the same fashion as a kimono, and hugged against Iruka’s lean frame. The sound of crickets chirping in the garden outside was the only sound to be heard besides Kakashi folding the Haniwa kimono over the futon mattress on the floor.
Iruka realized that he was staring and hastened to remove the nagajuban himself before Kakashi could make an attempt. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to make out a moderately sized room with a large closet and a tall dresser next to what appeared to be sliding wooden doors leading to the rest of the house. A standing mirror placed in one corner of the room reflected the pale moonlight over Kakashi in the final stages of folding the treasured kimono. Iruka draped the nagajuban over one arm and resisted the urge to shiver in his thin linen shift. “Thank you, but I can take care of the rest in the morning,” Iruka said testily. He felt exposed in what was essentially his underwear, and the hasty removal of the nagajuban made him dizzy and his stomach protest.
Without rising from his kneeling position on the floor Kakashi plucked the nagajuban undergarment from the chuunin’s grasp to fold it as well. “In all honesty Iruka-sensei, I think that you have more advantage over me than I do of you.” Kakashi said in a quiet voice that was as unreadable as the shadows blanketing the furnishings about the room. “There’s a pitcher of water and a cup on the dresser. Please help yourself if you are thirsty.”
Iruka had unconsciously folded his arms across his chest. He was unsure of how to interpret the sudden shift of the jounin’s mood and his cryptic statement. What did Kakashi mean that Iruka had the advantage, the advantage of what? “I don’t understand you at all!” Iruka blurted.
Kakashi paused in folding the nagajuban to incline his head. The stark shadows from the reflected moonlight along with his swollen eye made the copy-nin appear exceptionally grim. “Perhaps that will come in time…if we’re both lucky.”
Iruka shifted his feet, even in his inebriated state Kakashi had sounded a little too fatalistic for his taste. “Then what about the bedroom?” Iruka demanded as a means to change the heavy atmosphere. “Why are you giving it to me?” Iruka was relieved to have his own room but had been certain that the jounin would insist that they follow custom of sharing a bed in accordance to their wedding night.
“It was one of the terms of the verbal contract we made at the bar.” Kakashi gathered the folded garments and stood from the floor, his teeth shone in the moonlight from a wide grin. His dour mood seemed to have passed. “Did you forget?”
“No,” Iruka lied, and then he gave a start. When had Kakashi removed his mask?
Iruka’s expression prompted Kakashi to explain “I am in my house, after all.” Kakashi brushed past Iruka as he made for the door. “One must be comfortable in their own home.” The door slid open to a dark hallway. “Pleasant dreams, Iruka-sensei.”
“W-wait,” Iruka said before Kakashi could disappear. He unfolded his arms over his chest to hang loose at his sides. “Thank you, for this room and…and holding to our agreement.” He paused to swallow in an effort to hide his hesitation, but it was only fair that he hold up his end of the contract as well. “Aren’t you going to ask me for that daily kiss?”
Kakashi turned and in two quick strides he was before Iruka with the folded silks tucked under one arm. The copy-nin had given up the use of his swollen eye and had pushed his hitate-ate to reveal the Sharingan for better visibility in the dark. The wide pupil inside the crimson iris was like a vast empty pool, one that enticed the Iruka to step in and be swallowed whole. “I’m retracting that part of our agreement,” Kakashi’s soft voice gently broke the spell “In favor of a new one.”
Iruka flushed and adjusted his gaze to focus on the jagged scar that ran beneath the Sharingan eye. “What do you have in mind?” Iruka asked cautiously.
“You kiss me whenever you are ready to, or never.” Kakashi smiled with a faint quirk of his thin lips. “Either way I won’t try to step over your boundaries unless you say otherwise.”
“That’s…generous of you” Iruka replied uncertainly. It was definitely not what he had expected to hear, and the proposal did not seem to be in character of what Iruka knew of the jounin. Was Kakashi really being sincere?
The corners of Kakashi’s mouth twitched again, this time to betray nervousness. “But before we null that part of our contract could I be permitted this last opportunity, since it is our wedding day?”
Iruka was captivated by how the moonlight caught a faint spider line of a scar running up Kakashi’s chin and over one side of his bottom lip. Iruka wasn’t sure if he could properly speak so he instead nodded his consent. His eyes fluttered shut as he tilted his head, his mouth parting slightly with anticipation. To Iruka’s complete surprise and utter confusion those scarred lips pressed against his bare forehead. His eyes blinked open but the kiss was over before he could blink twice.
Kakashi had swiftly retreated to step behind the open door. The jounin was smiling. It was a genuinely warm expression that made Iruka’s heart skip a beat. “Thank you,” the silver hair dipped in a deeply formal bow. “I hope that you will find happiness inside our home. Goodnight, Iruka.” The door slid shut and Kakashi was gone.
Iruka stumbled backwards. His heel caught the long hem of the linen shift he wore and the dark wooden beams of the ceiling whirled before his eyes as he gracelessly flopped backwards into the plush futon mattress. For a long time Iruka laid unmoving from where he was, contemplating what had just happened as best he could with the room spinning and a bed that seemed to rock as if it were a boat adrift on open water.
This could not be the same jounin Iruka had met three days ago. The Kakashi that had first introduced himself as a potential marriage prospect had been a cocky and self-absorbed asshole that delighted in manipulating the hapless chuunin for his amusement. As far as Iruka could tell this Kakashi was much more considerate…polite even, but he was also more guarded and distant. Maybe Iruka had hit him with the sake flask harder than he had thought.
Iruka gingerly brushed his fingertips over his forehead. He could still feel the warmth of that last kiss and it made his eyebrows knit together with concern. Iruka had been certain that Kakashi had intended for something far less innocent, but apparently the jounin was honorable enough to stand by his original promise to be as ‘chaste as if kissing his grandmother,’…but still…why did it bother him so?
Realization hit Iruka like a bucket of ice water thrown against his face. He, Umino Iruka, felt cheated that Kakashi had not kissed him on the lips on their wedding night. He was disappointed! If Iruka had a mirror he would have seen that his complexion had paled to match the thin linen shift he wore. Iruka buried his face into his hands with a despairing groan. In the brief span of a few days his life had been one tumultuous ride of emotional ups and downs, and discovering that he had wanted to kiss Kakashi-no, Iruka still wanted to kiss him--it was all too much. His already complicated life had just decided to become even more complicated.
That baffling revelation kept Iruka awake and staring at the ceiling for several long minutes until he promptly passed out.
TBC
Next Chapter
Ch. X The Walls Around Us
Previous Chapters
Prologue & Ch. I: A Battle of Wills
Ch. II: The Burden of Duty
Ch. III: Cold Feet
Ch. IV: The Fine Print
Ch. V: A Wager
Ch. VI: A Matter of Convenience
Ch. VII: Accommodations
Ch. VIII: The Happiest Day of our Lives
Summery: Iruka reluctantly agrees to an arranged marriage in order to save his adopted family from financial ruin...and is horrified when Hatake Kakashi rises to the offer.
Rating: PG-13, rating my go up
Genre: AU/Canon, Humor, angst, eventual romance.
Notes: Special thanks and dedication goes to Anon for finding my Prompt on kakairu_kink
Additional Link AO3 Mirror Link
The Story from the Beginning
Author's notes: Wheeeeeeew, finally this chapter is done! Two things happened while I was writing this chapter: Firstly the hard drive of my old laptop crashed and died forever (there was many tears involved) and as a result the majority of this chapter was typed on a smartphone (there was much cursing over all those tiny, tiny little buttons and autocorrect) until I could finally afford a new computer to be delivered overseas.
Secondly, is the length of this chapter (twenty pages in 12pt format, what the hell was I thinking...) my dilemma was that I could not find an appropriate break in the middle of the story to leave on a satisfying note, so here's two chapter's worth in one go.
I thank every reader of this story, especially those who have taken the time to comment ^_^ Thank you everyone!
Ch. 10 A Solid Foundation
Iruka had fled to the one place left in the world that he could remotely call his own: the tiny office in the upper floor of the Administration Building. The teleportation smoke cleared to reveal the reassuring familiarity of a room that contained his paperwork-cluttered desk and wooden shelves that bowed under the weight of heavy textbooks. Those walls now seemed to be closing in on him. Iruka sagged limply against the door as the full weight of his actions came crashing down. "Oh no…" he moaned as he slid to the floor. The priceless Haniwa silk whispered in protest against the rough fibers of the wood. "Oh no, no, no!" Iruka buried his face into his hands.
What had possessed him to spectacularly fuck everything up!?
He had attacked Kakashi. He, Umino Iruka, a low-born chuunin school teacher, had knocked the Hatake Kakashi out cold before the jounin's peers and the Fire County elite. It was an unforgivable show of weakness on Kakashi's part, and Iruka had all but publicly declared war on the Hatake clan. The marital contract was beyond broken. Not only had Iruka thwarted the Sarutobi clan's one chance at salvation but he had also single handedly destroyed the credibility of two shinobi houses in one literal blow of a humble sake cask.
A hysterical giggle bubbled in Iruka's throat and he choked it back before it could break him. He felt giddy from the adrenaline quivering throughout his limbs that had no place to go and he absently ran a shaky hand through his hair, his nails digging painfully into his scalp in a vain attempt to control the rising panic. The ivory kanzashi comb plopped to the floor. Iruka's shoulder length hair tumbled loose over his face, a dark curtain that could not shield him from the harsh facts laid before him.
He had thought that his life had been destroyed before, but it was nothing compared to now. The Sarutobi elders would attempt to save face by unanimously voting to publicly disown Iruka before the day was through. Iruka didn't even have his apartment to crawl back to. He would be thrown to the streets with nothing more than a depleted bank account and a cardboard box to his name. Worse than anything else, was the prospect that he could never again meet the Hokage's eyes without shame.
Cocooned as he was inside his despair, it took a moment for Iruka to register the light tap against the door.
"Iruka? May I come in?"
Every muscle in Iruka's body stiffened at the voice and icy dread pooled into the pit of his stomach. Without a word Iruka gathered his nerves and his feet, then reached to slide open the door with a trembling hand.
The Hokage slipped through the small opening between door and wall. Age had stooped the Sandaime to fall a head shorter than Iruka but his mere force of presence more than made up for his frail stature. The shinobi leader of the Fire Country closed the door and spared the cluttered office a single glance before settling on the distraught chuunin. The elderly man radiated authority in his every move as well as a deadly grace that belied his age. The long stemmed pipe was back in place, of which the Sandaime puffed as he waited for a response from his adopted son, his gaze penetrative under the wide brimmed Hokage hat.
"Hokage-sama," Iruka mumbled. He had retreated against the work desk to give his elder more space inside the cramped room. Despite all the years built between them he could never bring himself to address his foster father beyond the respective title. Privately, Iruka had never felt more than an awkward boy around the elder man, and he especially felt so now with hands clasped guiltily behind his back as he obediently awaited punishment.
"You have been avoiding me." The Hokage's statement boomed inside the small room yet managed to remain flavorless of emotion.
Iruka's eyes dropped to the floor. This was a voice that he recognized from delegation meeting when the Hokage addressed an unsavory crowd before voicing a verdict.
"And you are angry, as well." The Hokage's perceptive words caused a new strain of shame to color Iruka's face, and the chuunin braced himself.
"And you have every right to feel so." A sad smile entered the Sandaime's voice when it became apparent that Iruka would not reply. "It was never my intention to invite you into the Sarutobi clan if this was what fate had in store for you."
Iruka could not meet his foster father's gaze. He stared at a fixed point on the floor. An inner voice screamed to grovel before the Hokage and beg for forgiveness, but Iruka had frozen in place. Forgiveness was not an option at this point, anyways.
The Hokage continued. "You have always been one to take the burden of the world upon your shoulders," he said with a dry chuckle. "It is one thing that I admire about you, that tenacity to see a task through with little thought of the consequences to yourself." The Hokage’s expression softened. "Political marriages are a heavy burden to those not born into that expectation, especially among the ruling shinobi houses. No matter what anyone may say or how you may feel, know that there is always a choice for the sake of your own well being, my son. There is no shame to be selfish in a serious matter such as marriage."
The Hokage made sense of the world when it appeared to be spinning out of control, and Iruka could feel himself coming undone by those gentle words that held no trace of reprimand or scorn. The bitter resentment that had festered inside Ituka at the injustice of his situation, of which he had pushed aside under the fast pace of events had evaporated from his foster father's reassurance. Iruka did not deserve to be called his son.
"With all due respect, Hokage-sama," Iruka's words were a leaden weight to hold back the floodgates. "What I did does not excuse my actions. The Hatake clan will demand a public restitution for my offense." It took every ounce of courage to voice his own verdict. "I wholeheartedly accept the consequences that you and the Elders must take to avoid this scandal, but I will save you the trouble by personally withdrawing my name from the Sarutobi family scrolls before the day is through."
The Hokage snorted at the gloomy confession. "You are still young to think this is a public scandal worrisome enough to bring down a clan house. You should try living to my tender age of seventy three, then I guarantee you will witness worse that could ruin a family name." The Hokage sobered. "You should have more faith in Kakashi-san. He is not the type to make such demands, let alone intentionally shame a comrade."
"He's done plenty of that already," Iruka said with venom. "He has made a fool out of me right from the start. I know now that he has no respect for me or this union."
"Iruka--"
"Forgive me Hokage-sama," Iruka spoke in earnest over the elder man. "You took me in when no one else would bother. A family and a clan name was more than I could have ever hoped after my parents died." The floodgates had opened. Iruka lifted his eyes to meet his foster father, his jaw firmly set into a stubborn line. "I will redeem myself by fulfilling the contract to marry Hatake Kakashi. I'll probably have to gag his mouth with a sealing jutsu first--"
"Really, I insist--" The Hokage attempted to interrupt.
Iruka refused to be deterred. "--but I will endure whatever task he may request from me and perform without fail, for the sake of our clans and the village we serve." Iruka felt his jaws clench at the humiliation of Kakashi's last words at the reception "Even if he is a self-centered prick of an asshole that can't see beyond the punch line of a joke."
The Hokage visibly grimaced at those last words. With a wordless shrug he stepped back to slide open the door. "I did try to warn you."
Iruka's jaw dropped.
"Yo." Kakashi greeted with a little wave. The copy-nin was a sight to behold. The exposed flesh around the hitate-ate and mask where the sake cask had found its mark was starting to purple from a spectacular bruise with the visible eye nearly swollen shut. The perfectly sculpted silver mane was bent askew from where his head had hit the floor. By the jounin’s demeanor Iruka had no doubt whatsoever that the copy-nin had overheard every single word. Could this hellish day get any worse?
"Maa, Iruka-sensei, you look as if you have just been given sentence for your own execution."
Apparently it could.
The Sandaime Hokage coughed into his fist to bring attention to himself. "I will return downstairs to distract the guests until you two are ready." The Hokage gave Iruka a last reassuring smile before departing from the room. "Whatever you decide, know that you are still my son and will always have a place in the Sarutobi clan."
The snap of the door sliding shut behind the Hokage resounded like a coffin lid closing over the two men. The quiet ticking of the wall clock was all that could be heard as the awkward minutes stretched with both shinobi studying the small floor space between them.
"How were you able to get here?" Iruka found himself asking as a means to dispel the silence. Kakashi could not have evaded the guests without offering some sort of an explanation.
"I slipped away with a shadow clone taking my place." The jounin replied with a shrug. "It is happily taking a nap on the podium as we speak. Nobody besides the Hokage knows that we're here."
Iruka lifted his gaze to study Kakashi and was taken aback by what he saw. The copy-nin was the picture of dejection; his shoulders slumped and face staring morosely at the floor, and it reminded Iruka of one of his students caught cheating on a test. Such a look did not suit the elite copy-nin. But as an experienced teacher, Iruka was not easily swayed by such a display and made a low challenging growl in his throat. "I'm not sorry for what I said."
"I have no doubt about that," Kakashi agreed. "I haven't been particularly helpful, as you say." He gingerly tapped his swollen eye before adding begrudgingly under his breath "I think I deserved it…for a lot of things."
Iruka worried the bottom of his lip. The wall clock ticked quietly in the background. He brushed aside a loose strand of hair from tickling his nose. “What I did was very unprofessional of me." It was not a true apology but it was the closest that Iruka was willing to give. Nonetheless, Iruka felt obliged to return the jounin's humbleness with a dose of his own. "I've been hearing some 'talk' about you and me," Iruka muttered and avoided Kakashi's gaze by smoothing the wrinkles from his forest green kimono. "Well, about myself mostly." He flushed. "I did not like what was said."
"Ah." For a moment Kakashi was silent as he digested the implication behind the statement. "I've been hearing people 'talk' for as far back as I can remember." His words were deliberate and carefully chosen. "Behind closed doors my family would whisper with contempt that my father had not included me to his grave. Shinobi would openly gossip of the strange boy who feared to show his face. The villagers were the worst, especially during times of peace when there was little else to add color to their boring lives. People will always like to ‘talk,’ and there’s nothing that you or I can do to stop them." His mouth twitched under the mask. "It’s easy for me to forget that words can cut deeply as any wound. I suppose that I've learned to stab back in turn, though my mouth has a habit of running ahead of my brain."
Kakashi took two strides to bridge the gap between them, and to Iruka's surprise Kakashi reached out to clasp the chuunin's hands, abalone white fingers encircling cinnamon brown. "I've cut you deeply, Iruka-sensei. I don't expect forgiveness, but I promise to be more...accommodating of what I say."
Iruka was at a loss for words. For a brief moment suspicion compelled him to search for a hidden trap or a barb. The truth of the matter was he did not know how to react to an amiable Kakashi. Asshole Kakashi Iruka could deal with. Obliging Kakashi was someone entirely new. Iruka swallowed hard before asking with trepidation "You're…not angry that I hit you?"
"Far from it," Kakashi chuckled, a warm sound that filled the room. "Truth be told Iruka-sensei, that little love tap with the sake cask was what had really convinced me to commit." Kakashi made a poor attempt at a wink with his swollen eye. "I like a man that can stand his ground with hackles raised."
Iruka gave the Kakashi an incredulous look. Jounin were fucking crazy. Iruka retrieved his hands and folded them over his chest under the luminous kimono sleeves. He cleared his throat and settled a flat stare upon the other man. "I might give you more than a black eye next time."
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind." Kakashi grinned "A sake cask can only take so much abuse."
"You're thick headed enough as it is," Iruka bantered with a small smile. The tension inside the room had lessened considerably, though a taut thread remained ready to snap from a careless misstep.
Kakashi fidgeted for want of something to divert the awkward silence before resettle between them. His eye fell upon the ivory kanzashi comb lying forgotten on the hardwood floor. He stooped to pick it up and regarded Iruka's loose hair with a slight inclination of his head. "May I?"
In answer, Iruka turned his back and lowered to his knees, an invitation to build upon the fragile truce budding between them. Kakashi stepped behind and combed his fingers through the Iruka's dark hair, and seemed to relish the feel of silken strands gliding like water over his skin. Those deadly hands gently massaged Iruka's scalp to soothe away some of the tension.
A faint moan parted from Iruka's lips as knot between his temples gave way to a blissful moment of mental release. His eyes snapped open before he could further succumb under that spell. "How in the hell am I supposed to return to the ceremony?" He was mortified to face that crowd downstairs.
"I suppose you can go about it two ways," Kakashi hummed as he smoothed the chuunin's hair. "You can behave as the courtiers expect you to, utterly humbled and cowed with your tail tucked between your legs..." Kakashi gathered the brunet locks up into one fist before fishing for the ivory kanzashi comb tucked inside his obi belt. "Or you can take advantage of this opportunity to assert your dominant status above me."
"Dominence!?" Iruka sputtered. "We're hardly dealing with your ninkin pack here!"
"I've found over the years that the principles of canine hierarchy can easily apply to human behavior," Kakashi said as he fastened the ivory comb. He grinned. "And you did manage to put me in place when I threatened to deflower your honor. I think that would put you on top of the pecking order before all the guests, in terms of pack mentality."
Iruka considered as Kaskashi fluffed the ends of his gathered ponytail as a finishing touch. "So in other words..." Iruka said slowly "I could do what's least expected of me to gain the upper hand."
"It's what I've always done..." Kakashi replied. With Iruka's grooming completed his hands fell to his sides. "That is, until I've met someone who can just as easily unbalance me."
Iruka rose from the floor to face the other man. They were almost of a height and he only had to tilt his gaze to meet the single eye that was nearly hidden under purpling flesh. He was standing so close to the jounin. He tentatively lifted a hand to Kakashi's face, his fingers hovering over the swollen skin, than gave into the impulse to run his fingers through the glued spikes to ruffle his silver hair back into a semblance of its natural state. Iruka stepped back to smile at the perplexed expression on Kakashi's face. "I like you more this way."
There was no denying the faint blush that blossomed under Kakashi's mask. “Well, it’s a good thing that I don't upstage you." He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. "In that kimono getup you look like you’ve just stepped out from a storybook."
Iruka was momentarily stunned by those words that mirrored his own sentiment the day before. He felt a hesitant glow blossom inside his chest from the compliment and averted his eyes before Kakashi could see the blush rising in his cheeks, of which he was aware that was further heightened by his pale scar.
"I'm sorry if that sounded cheesy." Kakashi hastily added, misinterpreting Iruka’s gesture.
“No, it’s fine.” Iruka met Kakashi’s eyes and smiled. “Thank you.”
Kakashi felt the heat intensify under his mask. The chuunin-sensei had never smiled at him in such a way before. A thought occurred to him. "Can I…use my Sharingan?" he asked hesitantly.
Iruka's smile faltered. "What for?"
"I want to remember you--I mean us, as we are right now." Kakashi swallowed "If that’s all right with you."
Iruka strode behind his desk to rummage for a compact mirror. He returned to stand beside Kakashi with the mirror in palm, adjusting the angle for their reflections to meet. Iruka’s features were drawn from the stress and sleepless nights of the past few days, and could not be entirely masked underneath his now impeccable hair and finery of the Haniwa Kimono. Iruka’s bloodshot eyes flickered to study Kakashi with his silvery mane in wild mess and the exposed Sharingan a vivid red contrast to the swollen purple one.
"Don't we make a fine pair" The chuunin chuckled. "I guess we're in this together now, for better or worse."
"We'll make it through somehow." Kakashi said into the mirror. His voice had fallen back to a casual tone as he examined his bruised eye critically. “I think I’ll be wearing this for a few weeks. You sure know how to pack a punch!”
“By the way," Iruka returned the lighthearted tone with a dry quirk of his lips. "I hope that you were not referring to those vulgar Icha Icha books when you made that storybook reference about my kimono."
"I think you are wearing too many layers for Jiraiya-san's tastes, but then again it would depend on what's hiding underneath." Kakashi’s mask stretched over an impish grin. “At least now I can trust that you will give me a black eye over a knife in the back.”
Iruka smiled a little too sweetly. “Don’t push your luck.” His expression made Kakashi look away with a guilty flush to his cheeks and nervously scratch his scar underneath the Sharingan eye.
It was then that Iruka resigned himself to the fact that he would have to start counting to ten to help keep his temper in check. Perhaps he and Kakashi would make it to old age with most of the jounin’s teeth intact, but at least for now they had some sort of a foundation that they could start to build upon.
****
The reception room had turned into a scene of subdued chaos during the last fifteen minutes since Iruka’s dramatic escape. The majority of the bedecked courtiers were standing in outrageous defiance for an explanation from a stoic Saindame Hokage, of whom he and his sister Sarutobi Akemi evaded all questions by quietly smoking on their pipes and wordlessly blowing smoke into the faces of the more short-tempered guests. Akemi would flaunt her heavy battle pipe in a manner that made the nobles stand a good five paces away from the ceremonial podium. A fair number of the courtiers had flocked to the main entrance in the back of the room to demand leave at once. The wife of the Damiyo’s brother had been revived with smelling salts and was sipping cool mint tea as attendants provided a breeze with gilded fans. Her husband glowered with impatience at his delegates, who were unsuccessfully trying to negotiate passage through the masked ANBU guarding the main door. Tenzou Yamato was as impassive as a brick wall, and he was determined not to allow a few courtiers who have had their feathers ruffled decide the fate of his senpai’s wedding day.
In contrast to nobility’s fiery tempers most of the shinobi clansmen had calmly remained in their seats to drain the last of the free sake reserves. Some of the clansmen debated amongst themselves on the subject of the secret wager between bride and groom. It was a hot topic as the monetary pot was currently set at over 500,000 ryo, which was more than what most S Class missions were worth. Inuzuka Tsume and Nara Shikaku were engaged in a fierce debate on whether the pot should be immediately cashed out to the winner or not, of which Shikaku would eloquently argue “It’s not over until the fat lady sings!”
Throughout the hubbub Kakashi’s shadow clone was left mostly forgotten under the presentation table on the podium with Hyuuga Yukari and her son Hizashi stoically standing guard in their hard-won seat of honor next to the Hokage’s family. The Hyuuga clansmen inclined their heads when they heard a small ‘pop’ beneath the table, and Kakashi emerged into view with an audible groan. The copy-nin blinked through his swollen eye at the awaiting crowd as if in a daze. “Am I married yet?” he blearily asked.
“This is an outrage!” One of the bolder courtiers stepped forward with his temper quivering like a boiling tea kettle and a complexion to match. “The Hokage has refused to answer any questions on the whereabouts of your bride.” The red faced courtier spat the word out like a curse. “This farce of a wedding is an insult to us all! We who have traveled far from--”
“He’s missing!?” Kakashi feigned a rather believable expression of disbelief as he looked to his right at the Hyuuga clansmen for answers. Both Yukari and Hizashi returned an imperious glare that silently acknowledged that they had both saw through Kakashi’s shadow-clone ruse with their Byakyugan eyes. Kakashi ignored them and turned back to demand of the sputtering delegate “Why did no one bother wake me?”
Before the courtier could answer there was a commotion at the other end of the room as a tremor of anticipation rippled throughout the crowd and prompted the guests to hurriedly reclaim their seats. The entire room fell silent when Tenzou Yamato stepped aside to open the main doors.
Sarutobi Umino Iruka glided into the reception room with all the detached interest of a prince on his way to partake in afternoon tea. Iruka did not see the bewildered faces of the wedding guests nor heard their dark mutterings as he swept past the tables. Iruka held his head high as he focused at an unfixed point on the podium above Kakashi’s head. He was a swan quietly churning the waters of a pond without rippling the surface, a cool pillar of stoic serenity. When he reached the podium he turned to face the table seated by the highest ranking members of Damiyo nobility, the gradient hues of the Haniwa kimono shimmered through his movements like leaves dancing in the wind. Iruka knelt to perform a deep bow until his bare forehead nearly touched the floor and he addressed the Damiyo’s brother in a gravely formal voice clear enough for the entire room to hear.
“Please forgive this one Sarutobi Umino Iruka, honorable Tajimanaka Ansoebi Fukadoshina Shuie-sama of the Nakayama House, overseer of the Three-Fold Valley and of the blood and voice to our esteemed Damiyo of the Fire Country. I beg for your forgiveness of my intrusion of your time and of upsetting the inner peace of your gentle wife, Lady Eiekawa Katoe Hotaruko Shizuka of the Nakayama-Battoeh House, Keeper of the sacred Eijeh Chalice and of the blood and voice to our esteemed Damiyo of the Fire Country.” Iruka continued after a brief pause for breath. “If I may request, I humbly ask for your gracious permission for this unworthy person such as myself to complete my matrimonial vows to the honorable shinobi Kakashi of the Hatake Clan before your honorable presence.”
Sweat trickled down the small of Iruka’s back as he waited for an answer. With his head bowed he could not have seen the Damiyo’s brother blink in mild surprise at the eloquently delivered speech of himself and his spouse’s full titles. “Quite amusing, this day has become,” the man answered in a light tenor that reminded one of a songbird. “Indeed, I have never encountered such brutish violence at a wedding ceremony before today. Usually the bride would poison the groom with the sake than brutishly bash him over the head with it.” The highborn noble modestly hid an approving smile behind a golden fan when his offhanded remark did not illicit even a twitch from the kneeling shinobi. “Very well, I permit my pardon for the upset of my courtiers and esteemed wife. As for myself, I do believe that I am made of sterner stuff.”
Iruka touched his forehead to the floor. “My deepest thanks, Tajimanaka Ansoebi Fukudo-“
“Yes yes,” the noble cut off the chuunin’s acceptance speech with an impatient wave of his fan. “Indeed, I am interested to see how this ceremony will conclude. Perhaps I shall consider attending more inside Konoha village if they promise to be just as…amusing.”
At the noble’s dismissive tone Iruka rose to deliver a deep bow before the courtiers and another at the wedding party on the ceremonial podium before reclaiming his seat next to Kakashi with solemn grace. The Saindaime Hokage, Sarutobi Akemi and even Hyuuga Yukari acknowledged Iruka with approving nods of how he had placidly handled the courtiers. The Hokage inclined his head to the awaiting Shinto priest in a silent command for the ceremony to begin. The priest was an elderly man in flowing white robes and sported a thin beard that nearly trailed to the ground. The priest waved impatiently for his attendants to remove the presentation table and motioned both Kakashi and Iruka to turn in their seats to face the podium.
Kakashi’s visible eye had taken on a peculiar shade similar to that of an eggplant. The jounin was practically bursting with pride and did not bother to hide the almost maniacal grin under his mask. Iruka blinked at Kakashi’s strange expression and fixed his attention on the Shinto priest who commenced the start of the ceremony by waving a twig harvested from a sacred tree. Long paper streamers trailed from the end of the twig, and the fluttering white streamers engaged the onlookers as the priest began to chant in a deep droning voice that resounded throughout the room like a gong.
A low murmur whispered behind the couple as the guests speculated on the sudden change of Iruka’s demeanor and Kakashi’s apparent nonchalance after being attacked by his bride-to-be. Iruka stiffened as if those voices were needles stabbing into his back. It was much more difficult to ignore his surroundings while idly sitting down with nothing to do but wait. Iruka rested his hands over his lap and his fingers trembled ever-so-slightly, a small crack in his self-imposed serenity. He gripped the fabric of the Haniwa kimono to still them. Kakashi tilted his swollen eye to give Iruka a reassuring smile though it was apparent that he was nervous as well, as evidenced by how the jounin absently drummed his fingers against his knees.
The attendants brought forth a black lacquer tray bearing three shallow saucers of bone-white porcelain of varying sizes, from a small cup that could barely fit inside Iruka’s palm to one that required two hands to properly hold. The cups contained carefully measured portions of purified sakes for the ‘SanSanKudo’, or the ‘Three Sips Equals Nine’ ritual. It was the oldest of traditions dating before the Shinobi Wars and one observed at weddings in all the Shinibi Nations. The attendants carefully placed the tray between the couple and retreated to the foreground. Behind the three cups almost as an afterthought, was a small ornate box containing two matching wedding bands engraved with the symbol of the Leaf.
The priest did not break his monotonous drone as he mentioned for Kakashi to pick up the smallest of the cups. Kakashi tilted his head in a bow before partaking three sips before passing it to Iruka to do the same. Iruka nearly fumbled as his palms were sweaty, and he drained the sake in three hasty sips. Iruka wished that the purified sake wine was stronger. When he finished it felt as if a door was beginning to close shut behind him. There was no turning back now. Once the third sake cup had been drained the marriage pact would be officially sealed. The wedding rings were more of a physical symbol of their union and would be exchanged at the conclusion of the ceremony.
Kakashi finished the medium sized cup and passed it to Iruka, who was more conscious to be steady with his hands. The jounin was grinning like a loon under his mask. The grace of the Shinto priest’s movements faltered when he caught sight of the strange expression on the copy-nin’s face, and the priest shot furtive glances between the jounin and the bride as if he were afraid Iruka would again violently snap. The elderly priest increased the tempo of his chant to conclude the ceremony in due haste.
Iruka accepted the largest sake cup after Kakashi had finished taking three sips and drained the remaining contents in three hard gulps, and as the last drop passed his lips he felt the door firmly close shut. They were now officially married, except for one last thing...
With trepidation Iruka picked up Kakashi’s ring. He could feel Kakashi intently watching his grim expression as he slid the broad gold band over the jounin’s left ring finger. Kakashi did the same but with more fluidity in his motions, and as the cold metal enveloped his finger Iruka involuntarily twitched with the urge to pull away. The warmth of Kakashi’s pale fingers brushed against the darker shade of the chuunin’s skin in a brief soothing motion, and Iruka’s eye caught the glint of gold from the jounin’s left hand. Their eyes met, and Iruka’s lips quirked at the Kakashi’s poor attempt at a wink through his bruised eye, and he relaxed enough to allow Kakashi to complete sliding on his ring.
They were really and truly married now.
As instructed by Yukari, the pair stood to face the crowd with their ringed hands clasped for all to see. The audience erupted into a loud applause as the newly married couple bowed together before the guests. When they straightened Hatake Kakashi was still grinning that strange smile of his and Hatake Umino Iruka smiled as if the conclusion of the ceremony was his heart’s desire, but really all Iruka wanted was to find something much stronger than the ceremonial sake wine to see the rest of the long day through.
****
Within the hour during the banquet Iruka had received his wish for stronger alcohol. As a result, the remainder of the day blurred together in a long series of events with himself and Kakashi sitting at the podium as every single guest returned to the podium to again deliver their well-wishes and congratulations to the married couple. The proceedings was then followed by a massive banquet where Iruka possessed no appetite other than for a few tiny dishes of pickled vegetables and one steamed bun filled with sweet bean paste. The formal banquet was followed by the bride and groom standing to mingle with the crowd of wedding guests to partake in informal conversation.
The Hokage was the first to approach Iruka. “I am proud of you,” The Sandaome Hokage said with a smile. “You have done a great service to our family.”
Iruka shrugged as if the matter of his marriage was of no great importance. His sake cup was still half full. “Hokage-sama, I had vowed to lay down my life for this village. I would do the same for the Sarutobi clan, whether I was a part of it or not.”
“There’s no need for to be dramatic,” The elder man chuckled, and shot a jaundiced eye at a noble delegate creeping up behind Iruka to intercede on their private conversation. The delegate bounced back to a respectable distance, but more were gathering awaiting the chance to strike an audience with the Hokage. The Sandaime sighed in exasperation and delivered the sum of what he had wanted to say to his son. “I guarantee that Kakashi-san is not as bad as an S-Class mission, though now it might seem so.” The Sandaime reached to pat Iruka’s hands over the sake cup. “I have high hopes that you two would be able to get along, in time. The path to reach it might be rocky but do take time to enjoy the flowers you might find on the way.” The Sandaime released Iruka’s hands and stepped away, and in an instant he was surrounded by the delegates and disappeared from sight.
Iruka was still digesting the Sandaime’s words when Yukari approached with silent Hizashi close behind. “You will have a rocky road ahead with Kakashi,” she warned in her usual no-nonsense tone. “But I do believe you have the constitution to see past his faults and provide some stability to both your clans. To quote the poet Tanaka Hiromu: ‘Flower petals will soften the stones beneath yon traveler’s feet, if there is grace to tread the path lightly.’”
“I hope so…” Iruka was somewhat confident that he was not slurring his words too terribly. He had almost no idea of what Yukari was eluding to. All these talks of flowers and rocks were beginning to blur together. And how many sake flasks did he finish so far…four or five?
“I certainly do not envy you your position,” Yukari said with a dry quirk her lips. She appeared to be mildly amused by Iruka’s condition. “My only advice to you is to remember that marriage is first and foremost a partnership sey on a balanced scale, and is only maintained when both parties willingly share the burden together.” The silver comb atop her bound hair bobbed in agreement to her own words. “There will be times when either of you must carry the entire weight for the sake of the other, but that is what it means to be married. If the balance can be maintained through understanding and a little patience then there is a real possibility for contentment, and even a measure of happiness.” The Hyuuga Matron tapped her mahogany cane against the floor to emphasize her point. “Take my advice from one who had been married to the head of the Hyuuga house for over sixty years, and has inherited those duties as a widow in the last ten.”
Iruka blinked at Yukari. “So…exactly how old are you!?” he demanded in a very obvious slur.
Yukari gave a long suffering sigh. “Dear Iruka-kun, please try to remember that you should feel free to visit me for advice if you need anything that is not related to clan politics.” She turned away with another dry quirk to her lips. “But do keep in mind to be careful of what you say in the future. We are now on an even playing ground and we must take care of what is said outside the tea room. The battleground of politics can be just as cutthroat as any scuffle between shinobi out on the field.”
Iruka stood befuddled as the Hyuuga matron ambled away to rejoin her son. The strange encounter Hyuuga Matron was swiftly forgotten when Kakashi appeared at his side. “Yo,” the jounin muttered under his breath, and what could be seen of his normal eye through swollen flesh glanced down at the sake cup in Iruka’s hand. “Been enjoying yourself?”
“Far from it,” Iruka replied cheerfully. “I can’t wait for this all to be over so I can go home and sleep this day off as if it were a baaaad dream!”
Kakashi took the sake wine from Iruka’s hand and ducked to hide his face as he drained it in a single gulp. “Try to eat something,” Kakashi whispered without returning the cup. “We still have a few hours before we can leave.”
“Oh,” Iruka said right before Kakashi disappeared back into the crowd. He really wished that his husband had not stolen his sake cup. ‘Heh. My ‘husband!’ Iruka thought with real surprise. His giddy bark of a laugh startled two passing nobles to hasten their steps as they practically fled from the bride.
****
More than a few hours later Kakashi experienced a rather enlightening encounter with the younger sister to the Hokage. The elegant Sarutobi Akemi was all smiles and congratulations on the surface, but she made it clear through small gestures with her battle pipe that she would be the first to pay Kakashi a visit if the jounin intended to harm Iruka in any way, and that there were several Sarutobi clansmen at her beck and call to help bolster her threat.
Iruka received a similar encounter from his neighbor-to-be Morino Kaeno, with her hulking battle-scarred son Ibiki standing silent as a shadow behind his plump mother. Kaeno used her favorite pair of chopsticks to colorfully illustrate her point across, of which Iruka’s flushed complexion became increasingly paler as the conversation progressed until Kakashi could interfere to politely steer his husband toward a glowering Akemi, who immediately brightened at the chance to speak with her nephew.
With their places now safely exchanged Kakashi turned to have a private word with his neighbor. He shot a meaningful glance at Ibiki, who took the unspoken hint to step out of earshot. “Was it really necessary to intimidate him?” Kakashi asked.
“Absolutely,” Kaeno grinned. “That boy should be aware that he is not the only one with people to depend on if things turn rough.”
“Why would you think that would be a problem?” Kakashi asked, genuinely curious. His smiling neighbor was a woman who’s motives tended to not to be all that appeared on the surface.
“Because you are a hard man, Kakashi-san,” Kaeno’s ever present smile faded to one of utmost seriousness. “You have been forged by the fires of war and have been tempered by the blood of those you have slain, but even the best metal can shatter from a single crack.” She edged closer, and Kakashi had to stoop to hear what she whispered for his ears alone. “It is the quiet nights that can undo us in the end. It has been forty years since my last mission and the screams of the dead still keep me awake at night.” She withdrew. “I wanted to plant a seed inside that boy’s head that you are not a statue, Kakashi-san, but a living person in need of companionship during those quiet nights.”
Kakashi’s shoulders twitched as if he had been shocked by an electric current. Kaeno’s words had hit a little to close to home behind his true motive to marry. Surviving to his thirtieth birthday had forced Kakashi to confront the real possibility that he might reach retirement from active duty, and with that realization surfaced a deep seeded fear to spend the remainder of his years isolated inside the Hatake manor with only the ghosts of his past to progressively drive him mad or prompt him to suicide. It was not an uncommon fate for lonely retired jounin, and Kakashi already spent too much time at the memorial stone as it is. “Hmph,” Kakashi grunted and he folded his arms across his chest. “I take it that you speak from personal experience?”
“Indeed,” Kaeno agreed. “My husband was a civilian with absolutely no training in the shinobi arts, but I think that it was his strength that helped carry us through during my twilight years.” The smile returned to her face. “Strength can be gained from the most unexpected of forms, be it a simple gesture or a kind smile. I dearly hope that your husband is one that is capable to help shoulder your burdens, and that you are one that is willing to share them.”
Kakashi was not one to visibly display his true emotions but he made a brief exception this one time for the woman that was the closest that he had ever had to a mother. “You are a perceptive,” he said with real affection.
“Don’t I know it!” Kaeno returned Kakashi’s smile with a toothy grin. “Information is in the Morino family’s business, after all…but it also comes with age and experience.” The stout little woman reached on her tip toes to pinch Kakashi’s cheek, mask and all. She took a step back and inclined her head to beckon her son Morino Ibiki to return. “You should have put ice on that eye hours ago,” she reprimanded.
“At least I have the ninkins to lead me around if it swells shut” Kakashi chuckled as he waved farewell to his neighbor, then turned to check on his husband. Sarutobi Akemi was currently engaged along with the Hokage with a tight group of Damiyo diplomats and appeared to be on the verge of closing a deal. Both the Sarutobi siblings had their heads together in quiet discussion before the sour-faced diplomats who seemed to be getting the stick-end of the deal. Iruka was nowhere to be seen. Kakashi moved unhampered by his wide pinstripe hakima trousers, though the loud rustling of the heavy fabrics grated against his ears as he searched through the crowd.
He found Iruka near the back of the room at low table surrounded by Konoha shinobi clansmen. Nara Shikaku and Maito Gai sat on either side of the chuunin. Gai was in the midst of one of a long-winded speech and Shikaku was busy refilling sake into everyone’s cups. Iruka had a new sake cup in hand and swayed as if ready to fall backwards off his seat. Kakashi made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat. ’Patience,’ he reminded himself ’It has been a long day for the both of us.’ Kakashi did not care whether they offended the uppity nobility or not, it was time for them to leave. Iruka had managed to evade complete disaster with the sake cask incident, but sicking-up over the priceless Haniwa kimono was not the best note to conclude their wedding ceremony. Kakashi wasn’t sure if even the Hokage himself could forgive the newly wedded couple for destroying the crown jewel of the Sarutobi clan’s family fortune.
Kakashi made his presence known at the table by loudly clearing his throat. Iruka grinned up at Kakashi, the pale scar stood out like a beacon against flushed skin. “Heeey,” Iruka slurred and handed the jounin his half-filled cup. “Want mine? I think I be drank…drunking…” he blinked as his tongue stumbled for the right word “Drinking too enough!”
“I did recommend that you ate something,” Kakashi chided as he purposely wedged himself between Shikaku and Iruka. Kakashi rapped the tabletop with his knuckles in a specific tattoo to alert the shinobi that there was urgent business at hand. The five jounin immediately put down their cups to listen. Kakashi inclined his head at Iruka and raised one eyebrow, and the clansmen had enough grace to look abashed. “We need to leave,” Kakashi stated. “And not even the Hokage is going to stop us.”
“What will you have us do?” Tsume asked. The Inuzuka clanswoman was the least intoxicated of the bunch and seemed eager for something to do.
Kakashi quickly laid out his plans “A defensive ring around the target and a distraction for escape.”
“Leave the distracting to me!” Maito Gai lustily sprang from his seat and with much fluttering of his lime-green kimono. The Green Beast paused to scratch his broad chin in consideration. “Kakashi-san, I think that it would be best that you thank the Damiyo’s family before you depart.”
“Agreed,” Yamanaka Inoichi nodded, and his blond pontytail swayed at the motion. “You know how stiff-backed these nobles are about etiquette.”
“Tell me about it!” Akimichi Chozo guffawed. “Shikaku, do you remember that time…” The large shinobi’s words were abruptly cut off by the said Nara clansmen elbowing Akimichi sharply in the ribs. “Oof, oh right. It can wait.” The Akamichi clansmen rubbed at his side with chagrin.
“Then it’s settled,” Kakashi said as he stood. He bent to help Iruka rise from his seat. Iruka had blinked in confusion throughout the entire discussion and wobbled unsteadily on his feet. “Get ready, we’re going home,” Kakashi whispered to him. “And if you need to throw up, do it on me.”
“Why are you so weird!?” Iruka demanded with a hiccup. He was lost from sight when the four shinobi clansmen closed around him in a tight circle formation, their stances were casual but wore hard expressions to deter anyone that might dare to intercede.
Kakashi made his way to the ceremonial podium with Gai in tow. The Damiyo’s family turned in their seats at the sight of the jounin climbing the podium. Kakashi bowed to the Damiyo nobility before proclaiming in a clear voice to capture the crowd. “On behalf of myself and my husband I thank everyone for attending today.” He swept an arm in a grand gesture to include everyone in the room. “It is a great honor to be attended by so many well-wishers. The Sarutobi and Hatake clans are truly blessed to have so many friends.” Someone in the crowd coughed at that, and Kakashi continued without missing a beat. “Despite my rugged appearance I possess a weak heart and I am feeling rather unwell from the excitement of this joyous day, so much that I fear my heart might explode with contentment. However, my new husband has graciously offered to attend to my welfare and take me home-“
“Are you implying that the wedding is over?” A noble cut in with shrill indignation. “I must meet with the Hoka-“
“Not so!” Maito Gai burst into the scene in a single grand leap to join Kakashi on the podium. “The JUBILATION of this momentous day will continue fueled by the PASSION between the honored couple!” The sparkling metallic kunai and shuriken-print against electric green of Gai’s kimono was bedazzling to the eye and provided the distraction needed for the copy-nin to slip away. “I shall VIGOUROUSLY express their LOVE through interpretive dance whist I recite a small selection of poetry dedicated to such YOUTHFUL feelings!” Gai fished a bulky scroll from his robes with flourish and gustily continued “I will commence with my personal favorite by literary genius Miamoto Nasu’s ‘Love is a Bonfire in the Mist…’” The Green Beast of Konoha twirled about on one toe and performed a backward flip which elicited gasps of amazement from the nobility. “Oh, how may I see your eyes BURN through a morning mist, My feeling for you are FUELED by your passionate kiss…“
“Are you ready to go?” Kakashi asked after he had slipped through the protective circle of jounin surrounding the chuunin. Iruka had sobered somewhat and was fidgeting with agitation and appeared fit to burst with a question. “What is it?” Kakashi whispered, on the verge of impatience.
Iruka’s eyes had the look of a cornered animal. “We’re going to your house, aren’t we?” There was real fear in his eyes. He was trapped by Kakashi inside a blockade of shinobi elite with no chance of escape. “Tonight I can’t…I mean, I-I don’t want…” He ducked his head beneath the sleeves of the Haniwa kimono. “Forgive me, Hatake-san, but I can’t do ‘that’ for you,” his muffled voice sounded utterly miserable beneath the shimmering fabric.
Kakashi’s heart twisted a little. So it was not just the stress of the wedding ceremony that had prompted Iruka to drown himself in his cups. “Hey,” he gently folded back the Haniwa kimono sleeves to reveal the dejected chuunin-sensei. “As long as I don’t have anything to fear from you, then you have nothing to fear from me.” Iruka did not appear entirely convinced, but Kakashi could not afford to lose any more time reassuring his troubled husband. The entrapped nobility could only be distracted by Gai’s bad poetry for so long. Kakashi wrapped an arm around Iruka’s shoulders and readied the teleportation jutsu. “Here we go…”
The floor lurched beneath their feet and smoke filled the world...
****
…To be replaced by utter darkness and silence.
Vertigo hit Iruka like a blow. “Ohh…my head!” He lurched forward against Kakashi to clutch the jounin’s robes to keep from pitching over.
Kakashi caught Iruka by the elbows to steady him. “Are you alright?” Despite of what he had said, he really, really hoped that Iruka did not puke all over his grooms wear.
“I think so,” Iruka groaned. The jounin’s chest was a nice place to rest his forehead…and then he realized what he was doing and sharply pulled away. They were indoors inside a closed room with a single window overlooking what appeared to be a garden bathed by the muted colors of moonlight. “Where are we?” Iruka asked, his eyes had yet to adjust to assess his surroundings.
“In your bedroom,” Kakashi said as he stepped around Iruka and began to tug the elaborate knot of the white obi belt loose. Iruka jerked away with a startled noise. “We really should get you out of that kimono,” Kakashi was quite anxious to remove the priceless garment before it could be unintentionally destroyed. As generous as his coffers were Kakashi would likely have to sell a portion of his family estate to compensate for the Sarutobi clan’s loss of the Haniwa kimono, not to mention the respect of a goodly number of Iruka’s family members as well. “I’m not too sure that I could remove vomit stains from antique silk” the jounin elaborated dryly.
“Oh…right.” There was a long pause followed by feet scuffling guiltily against the woven tatami mats. “Sorry,” Iruka mumbled.
Kakashi shrugged, a sound made by the rustling of his bulky kimono as he resumed loosening the knot of the bridal obi from the small of Iruka’s back. “At least you got us to avoid the closing ceremony. I don’t think I could stand another minute brown-nosing to the Damiyo nobility.” The obi belt fell free and was quickly followed by the Haniwa kimono, which easily slipped free from Iruka’s outstretched arms. Kakashi spread the Haniwa kimono over a prepared futon bed on the floor and knelt to fold it with utmost care so as to not wrinkle the fabric.
Iruka wanted to laugh at how quickly Kakashi had managed to remove his wedding kimono, considering all the hours of preparation it had taken to don it on. Iruka was left standing in the two layers of undergarments the outer of which was designed to add bulk to the decorative outer kimono, a stiff cream-colored nagajuban. The second layer was a thin white linen shift to protect both kimono and nagajuban from contamination of the wearer. Both were cut in the same fashion as a kimono, and hugged against Iruka’s lean frame. The sound of crickets chirping in the garden outside was the only sound to be heard besides Kakashi folding the Haniwa kimono over the futon mattress on the floor.
Iruka realized that he was staring and hastened to remove the nagajuban himself before Kakashi could make an attempt. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to make out a moderately sized room with a large closet and a tall dresser next to what appeared to be sliding wooden doors leading to the rest of the house. A standing mirror placed in one corner of the room reflected the pale moonlight over Kakashi in the final stages of folding the treasured kimono. Iruka draped the nagajuban over one arm and resisted the urge to shiver in his thin linen shift. “Thank you, but I can take care of the rest in the morning,” Iruka said testily. He felt exposed in what was essentially his underwear, and the hasty removal of the nagajuban made him dizzy and his stomach protest.
Without rising from his kneeling position on the floor Kakashi plucked the nagajuban undergarment from the chuunin’s grasp to fold it as well. “In all honesty Iruka-sensei, I think that you have more advantage over me than I do of you.” Kakashi said in a quiet voice that was as unreadable as the shadows blanketing the furnishings about the room. “There’s a pitcher of water and a cup on the dresser. Please help yourself if you are thirsty.”
Iruka had unconsciously folded his arms across his chest. He was unsure of how to interpret the sudden shift of the jounin’s mood and his cryptic statement. What did Kakashi mean that Iruka had the advantage, the advantage of what? “I don’t understand you at all!” Iruka blurted.
Kakashi paused in folding the nagajuban to incline his head. The stark shadows from the reflected moonlight along with his swollen eye made the copy-nin appear exceptionally grim. “Perhaps that will come in time…if we’re both lucky.”
Iruka shifted his feet, even in his inebriated state Kakashi had sounded a little too fatalistic for his taste. “Then what about the bedroom?” Iruka demanded as a means to change the heavy atmosphere. “Why are you giving it to me?” Iruka was relieved to have his own room but had been certain that the jounin would insist that they follow custom of sharing a bed in accordance to their wedding night.
“It was one of the terms of the verbal contract we made at the bar.” Kakashi gathered the folded garments and stood from the floor, his teeth shone in the moonlight from a wide grin. His dour mood seemed to have passed. “Did you forget?”
“No,” Iruka lied, and then he gave a start. When had Kakashi removed his mask?
Iruka’s expression prompted Kakashi to explain “I am in my house, after all.” Kakashi brushed past Iruka as he made for the door. “One must be comfortable in their own home.” The door slid open to a dark hallway. “Pleasant dreams, Iruka-sensei.”
“W-wait,” Iruka said before Kakashi could disappear. He unfolded his arms over his chest to hang loose at his sides. “Thank you, for this room and…and holding to our agreement.” He paused to swallow in an effort to hide his hesitation, but it was only fair that he hold up his end of the contract as well. “Aren’t you going to ask me for that daily kiss?”
Kakashi turned and in two quick strides he was before Iruka with the folded silks tucked under one arm. The copy-nin had given up the use of his swollen eye and had pushed his hitate-ate to reveal the Sharingan for better visibility in the dark. The wide pupil inside the crimson iris was like a vast empty pool, one that enticed the Iruka to step in and be swallowed whole. “I’m retracting that part of our agreement,” Kakashi’s soft voice gently broke the spell “In favor of a new one.”
Iruka flushed and adjusted his gaze to focus on the jagged scar that ran beneath the Sharingan eye. “What do you have in mind?” Iruka asked cautiously.
“You kiss me whenever you are ready to, or never.” Kakashi smiled with a faint quirk of his thin lips. “Either way I won’t try to step over your boundaries unless you say otherwise.”
“That’s…generous of you” Iruka replied uncertainly. It was definitely not what he had expected to hear, and the proposal did not seem to be in character of what Iruka knew of the jounin. Was Kakashi really being sincere?
The corners of Kakashi’s mouth twitched again, this time to betray nervousness. “But before we null that part of our contract could I be permitted this last opportunity, since it is our wedding day?”
Iruka was captivated by how the moonlight caught a faint spider line of a scar running up Kakashi’s chin and over one side of his bottom lip. Iruka wasn’t sure if he could properly speak so he instead nodded his consent. His eyes fluttered shut as he tilted his head, his mouth parting slightly with anticipation. To Iruka’s complete surprise and utter confusion those scarred lips pressed against his bare forehead. His eyes blinked open but the kiss was over before he could blink twice.
Kakashi had swiftly retreated to step behind the open door. The jounin was smiling. It was a genuinely warm expression that made Iruka’s heart skip a beat. “Thank you,” the silver hair dipped in a deeply formal bow. “I hope that you will find happiness inside our home. Goodnight, Iruka.” The door slid shut and Kakashi was gone.
Iruka stumbled backwards. His heel caught the long hem of the linen shift he wore and the dark wooden beams of the ceiling whirled before his eyes as he gracelessly flopped backwards into the plush futon mattress. For a long time Iruka laid unmoving from where he was, contemplating what had just happened as best he could with the room spinning and a bed that seemed to rock as if it were a boat adrift on open water.
This could not be the same jounin Iruka had met three days ago. The Kakashi that had first introduced himself as a potential marriage prospect had been a cocky and self-absorbed asshole that delighted in manipulating the hapless chuunin for his amusement. As far as Iruka could tell this Kakashi was much more considerate…polite even, but he was also more guarded and distant. Maybe Iruka had hit him with the sake flask harder than he had thought.
Iruka gingerly brushed his fingertips over his forehead. He could still feel the warmth of that last kiss and it made his eyebrows knit together with concern. Iruka had been certain that Kakashi had intended for something far less innocent, but apparently the jounin was honorable enough to stand by his original promise to be as ‘chaste as if kissing his grandmother,’…but still…why did it bother him so?
Realization hit Iruka like a bucket of ice water thrown against his face. He, Umino Iruka, felt cheated that Kakashi had not kissed him on the lips on their wedding night. He was disappointed! If Iruka had a mirror he would have seen that his complexion had paled to match the thin linen shift he wore. Iruka buried his face into his hands with a despairing groan. In the brief span of a few days his life had been one tumultuous ride of emotional ups and downs, and discovering that he had wanted to kiss Kakashi-no, Iruka still wanted to kiss him--it was all too much. His already complicated life had just decided to become even more complicated.
That baffling revelation kept Iruka awake and staring at the ceiling for several long minutes until he promptly passed out.
TBC
Next Chapter
Ch. X The Walls Around Us
Previous Chapters
Prologue & Ch. I: A Battle of Wills
Ch. II: The Burden of Duty
Ch. III: Cold Feet
Ch. IV: The Fine Print
Ch. V: A Wager
Ch. VI: A Matter of Convenience
Ch. VII: Accommodations
Ch. VIII: The Happiest Day of our Lives