The amended reports had come back in record time; the last one had been on her desk earlier that morning, only two days after the meeting she had called. The elite strategists had been coding the files; logging up the references, the suggestions, the repetitions - personal experiences were good, but Tsunade refused to hinder her shinobi further by trusting anything that had not aided at least three separate incidents. What worked for one shinobi could kill another, and Tsunade had grown far more attached to her village than she thought she could.

There had been nothing encroaching on Konoha's borders since the last ANBU squad's return three days ago, and yet something was coming. Tsunade knew it in the same way she knew Naruto would be her successor; the cards had been dealt and her hand sucked.

She had seen the surviving shinobi (just babies back then) of the Third Secret War gathering round in groups to work on these amendments. She had spotted the older shinobi hunched around café tables, exchanging stories of back in the day. She had seen the surviving Hyuugas from those days excluding the world as they dictated their experiences to lesser beings. She had seen the younger ones, Kakashi, Gai, Raidou, and a few others, lounging around the ramen stand, or the training fields, seeming far more relaxed in their reminiscing - which to Tsunade suggested nothing but unhealed scars.

Shizune burst into her office, clutching a familiar looking scroll wrapped around a smaller roll of notes.

"Hatake-san asked me to give this to you, said something about training his dogs to plait hair as a birthday present to Sakura-chan?" Tsunade's ebony haired assistant looked harassed, confused, and the Godaime Hokage took the scrolls from her with a smirk, wondering what Kakashi had put the poor woman through.

Not saying a word, Tsunade gestured to the couch behind her, and Shizune sunk into it gracelessly. Stretching the notes across her desk revealed not just the translation, but a marked map, seemingly hand-drawn and labelled in great detail. Apparently, Kakashi had drawn out the enemy shinobi's plans as well as translated their notes.

"That lazy fuck?"

Tsunade had never understood why her predecessors had been so fond of Hatake Kakashi, or why Jiraiya looked at him as family rather than a soldier. She had appreciated his record and efficiency, but always assumed somehow that dumb luck played an enormous part in what he did in the field. Tsunade adored the boy, but never in quite the same way as those around her.

Maybe she'd need to keep a better eye out.

It was - well. Distracting wasn't even the word for what it was. Was Iruka really overreacting about what taking a friend's jumper implied about the intimacy of their relationship? The older Jounin hadn't even asked! And now his teaching was suffering for it! Nayami-chan, this year's most confident trouble-maker, had escaped from Iruka's classroom at least twice this week.

Wednesday finally rolled around, and as Iruka trudged worriedly home to his apartment -after a very troublesome day - he was both relieved and startled to find none other than Hatake Kakashi leaning casually against his doorframe, waiting for Iruka. 'Hm. Kakashi, waiting for a change? I've cracked. I'm obviously hallucinating!'

That relief soon gave way to fury as three days worth of pent up paranoia suddenly hit - the younger sensei was barely able to growl out an offer of tea in a shambolic attempt to remain calm. Seemingly oblivious to Iruka's tense rage, Kakashi cheerfully accepted, stepping into the apartment and plonking himself down on a chair in the kitchenette, tapping some irritating tune on the table top.

"I thought I'd return your uniform, Iruka-kun," Kakashi grinned delightedly as his friend turned a most interesting shade of burgundy. "And I wanted to apologise for my behaviour last Friday night."

Kakashi's unique system for getting a rise out of Iruka was to alternate between offending the young teacher and pleasing him soon after, until the patient academy teacher could no longer maintain his false politeness and would begin to tease Kakashi back. Unfortunately, Iruka's system for dealing with Kakashi was, wherever possible, to actually listen to what the light-haired shinobi said, while totally ignoring the delivery, well aware of the Copy Nin's natural ability to hide the truth within the truth.

"Wait," Iruka turned on Kakashi, irate and concerned and confused and sick of being toyed with. "You want to apologise? Kakashi you were fucked out of your mind!" Iruka's voice continued to rise in volume. "I don't entirely know what you had to do on that stupid fucking mission, but you could barely walk, let alone be held responsible for -"

"Iruka." Kakashi's voice was deadly quiet in contrast. Cutting through Iruka's ranting speech in a way that made it clear how very much aware the Copy Nin was of eaves-dropping neighbours in the surrounding apartments. A voice that told Iruka to be extremely careful where he trod. "I'd had a lot to drink; I said a lot I shouldn't have. I will not apologise for my actions but I should not have put it all on you."

The potentially sweet apology was ruined by Kakashi's flat, business-like tone, and the emotions Iruka was dealing with were too raw, too new, and could not prevent his hot anger from boiling over.

"Don't you dare tell me that was the drink!" Iruka's enraged hiss put the Copy Nin on edge. "I've drunk with you before, Kakashi, and I am well aware that three cups in two hours does not make you literally. Unable. To. Stand!"

Kakashi had no answer. He had no idea why Iruka was so angry. He said nothing.

"The last time I saw you, Kakashi, you were passed out on my bed, whimpering because of a draft. Tell me with a straight face that is the healthy behaviour of an elite Jounin?" Iruka paused - hands clenched into tight fists on his hips, unable to prevent the frustrated tears welling in his eyes - making Kakashi feel for all the world like a naughty school boy. His inner pervert couldn't help but smirk.

"You have no idea how worried I've been! You could've at least stopped by on Saturday to just let me know you hadn't thrown yourself from the top of the monument or something -"

'Not funny, Iruka...' Kakashi wasn't sure if he'd said it aloud or not - either way he'd never have managed to squeeze it out loud enough for the Chuunin to hear past the sudden lump in his throat. Despite the Copy Nin's suddenly closed expression, Iruka's tirade continued, louder and wilder by the second. Kakashi's inner pervert finally shut up - Kakashi's inner everything shut up - and he did the only thing he could think of to make the silence complete, without running risk to his physical or mental health.

Kakashi kissed him.

Iruka hadn't even noticed the cloth mask come down, hadn't noticed Kakashi's quick step into personal space, how he'd leant forward, eye half lidded. All he knew was the feel of Kakashi's hard, angry mouth against his, hands that had started cupping his strong jaw dragged fiercely upwards into suddenly loose hair. Iruka didn't think, just yanked at the other man, pulling him closer, clawing back, nipping desperately at that pouting, unresisting bottom lip.

Kakashi broke the kiss, sucking in a stunned breath, before quickly claiming those lips again. Unaware of the effect it had on his dazed partner, Kakashi thrust his tongue past Iruka's lips, not letting the younger man respond, licking the taste right out of his mouth. Something familiar - some recognisable twang - caused Kakashi to tighten his hold, and for a brief heartbeat - and boy, are they coming fast now - Kakashi thought he'd maybe found that humanity he been seeking. The thought terrified him, and Kakashi ended the kiss, stepping as far back as he could while still gripping that soft hair. Iruka slowly came out of his daze, leaning closer to the Copy Nin as he chuckled breathlessly.

"I have to go," Kakashi was staring at Iruka's wet lips, "Only came to...erm...give you back...your thing..." Iruka lapped at Kakashi's mouth, swallowing up his responsive moan. Grinning, Iruka let Kakashi go. Let him leave.

It was more than an hour later that Kakashi found the courage to tell Obito his strange news. It was slightly longer than that before Iruka remembered the tea.

Konohamaru was hiding from his sensei. Ebisu had been running around searching for the troublemaking young Gennin for a full hour, and with the help of Uzumaki Naruto's new ninjutsu, Sandaime's grandson was faring better than ever before.

Holding up the old camouflage cloth from his Pre-Gennin days, Konohamaru masked his chakra as Naruto-neesan had taught him, and bit his lip to prevent a giggle as Ebisu ran past, flustered. His team's self appointed mission was to retrieve a photo album from the Hokage's office - just to see if they could - as they knew she was briefing the ANBU teams today.

They felt no real guilt over this decision, blaming it entirely on their teacher. They had decided that, really, it had been plain foolish of Ebisu-sensei to tell them she was gone from her rooms, and also that retrieving the album itself was entirely doable so long as Ebisu-sensei concentrated on catching Konohamaru, and not his team-mates, as the Jounin was so wont to do.

To ensure this devotion to chasing the correct young shinobi, Konohamaru paved a wave of destruction worthy of his idol, the great Uzumaki Naruto. It was a wave of destruction that caused Umino Iruka to shudder in recollection of his boisterous ex-student, and fill him with a slight warmth at the reminder of his own Gennin days.

Konohamaru, Iruka decided during his lunch break - as he watched Ebisu run by for the third time in half an hour, a look of utmost dismay across his face - made a wonderful distraction. He tried to avoid wondering what the real prank would be, but figured he'd hear about it on the gossip vine, eventually.

"Look, how many ANBU missions have I performed lately? It doesn't make sense to have to keep pulling up the same paperwork every time you need an extra knife in the back." Kakashi didn't even bother to put up his usual lazy barriers, just trained one alert, intense eye on the ANBU Locust, who was beginning to wonder just why he'd agreed to cover for Aoba on an ANBU Desk shift. "Just put me back on file. Make sure it's temporary, though, those bastards aren't dragging me in again, you understand?"

"I'll have to get the Elite to agree..."

"They'll agree. You think I haven't spoken to them already? They'll agree."

Ibiki really didn't want to do it. He really didn't want to be the one to countersign the form that would send Kakashi back into the ranks that had nearly destroyed him. He could see his friend's slightly shaking hands, knew the Copy Nin was only offering because of the oncoming war. Because the ANBU would be the front line, and they'd need all the experienced hands they could get. Kakashi was doing himself a favour, really, and the bastard probably knew it - offering his services on his terms before the ANBU Elite could present a far less appealing offer the other way round.

Ibiki tapped something into the screen in front of him before printing off the necessary documentation. Stamping and signing his own parts, he asked Kakashi to read them through carefully.

"Sign here; here; date here. Temps need two 'touch stones' rather than the usual one, new rules. Neither can be 'Squad.'" Ibiki didn't bother to dumb down his words, speaking in a respectful blend of ANBU 'click' terminology and normal speech to the man who had probably been there at the invention of half of it. It was difficult sometimes to think that Kakashi was so young - his own age - and yet infinitely more experienced. "You'll be expected to inform them both yourself, before your first mission."

Kakashi automatically scrawled Jiraiya's name and rank in the first box and, after some quick deliberation, added 'Umino Iruka, Chuunin' to the second. He would need someone, after all, to keep him human.

They hadn't seen each other for a full week, and all Naruto could talk about was last Saturday's lesson, where he had not only beaten Sasuke and Sakura at stalking practise (Iruka had given up trying to convince Naruto to called it reconnaissance after the blonde haired boy had explained how the photographic evidence had been a major part in his win) but also been given an amazing desert as a prize. Iruka couldn't help but appreciate Kakashi's teaching methods - to reward the blonde bottomless pit with food at least meant he understood the boy.

Naruto also mentioned some interesting things about the state of their teacher - how he'd been unwilling to teach a practical lesson, favouring instead to go through reconnaissance strategies and ways to improve. He had sat them down in the centre of the cafe's outside tables, getting them to work into the conversation things they had noticed about the patrons and staff. The three students had seemed to enjoy creating wild codes and information gathering, and Kakashi had apparently seemed pleased with their understanding of the day's lesson.

There was apparently more, but amidst the blonde's angered ranting about Kakashi's ability to drink tea through his mask (an over-exaggeration, surely, thought Iruka, That would stain) there was very little information - about what seemed to be an interesting teaching tool - left to be gained.

The subject drifted to Naruto's team, and Iruka asked how Sasuke had been doing, fully aware of the sneers and torments the formerly adored Uchiha heir had been exposed to since his return to Konoha. Iruka also needed to know how Naruto was coping with his rival back home, worried that either boy could be consumed by hate so soon after the last time.

"Sasuke-bastard will get over it. I did, so he'll have to if he's gonna prove he's better than me!" Naruto's response was so typical, and yet somehow made a large amount of sense.

"You think he's as strong as you are, though? Naruto, Sasuke-kun has never had to deal with the villagers' prejudice before now..."

"Then it's lucky he got me on his side." Naruto's voice was much stronger than it had ever been as a child, and Iruka could see, even if Naruto himself could not, the Copy Nin's proud sense of team unity in the way his spoke about his friend, and Iruka's own compassion. It was gratifying, the young teacher thought, to see the best parts of two people reflecting from a well-loved student. "Iruka-sensei, the village can think what it likes about us all! I can't see why anyone thinks it's their business!"

Iruka smiled at that, Naruto's defiance giving everything away. "Didn't you hate him though? Even a little? This village latches on to the rumours it hears..."

"And don't I know it! A lot of the people here still hate me, but I forget sometimes, you know? What with you and Kakashi-lazy-bastard-sensei, Sakura-chan and Sasuke-bastard... If any of you pick on me, it's for a better reason than something I had no say in. But you're right, in a way. About Sasuke. It's a horrible thing, to be hated by this village."

"Well," Iruka was warm with pride, he'd helped teach this boy, he'd helped raise him. He was also more than interested in the quick defence of his 'lazy-bastard-sensei,' but decided that could wait for another day. "Look at the bright side. At least Sasuke is in the same position as you now - if the village doesn't worship him anymore, you can be true rivals!"

Naruto laughed with him, and Iruka finally realised how much the boy had grown.

x

"I've rejoined the ANBU. I've got a mission this weekend." Kakashi's voice had been as cold as his words, and Iruka should have be worried that he was starting to equate the pained, foreboding tone with Kakashi's 'business-voice.'

"...Why are you telling me?"

"It shouldn't last three days - I put you down as a 'touch stone.' If anything should happen, you'll know the truth of it..."

"But why? Why are you telling me?" Iruka's insistence finally dragged out an unwilling response from the Copy Nin, and Iruka felt there was some scab there, that wasn't ready to be picked.

"You're the closest friend I have, Iruka." Kakashi didn't sound right confessing. His voice wasn't suited to being lost, although Iruka knew some amount of his friend's grief. "You're the only really human friend I have."

"You mean besides Mr. Ukki?" A small huff of laughter was the only acknowledgement Iruka received, but joke hadn't been very funny. Just a desperate attempt to rid the room of this chill, this heavy atmosphere.

"They're all perfect shinobi robots, dead men. You're different, somehow."

"Kakashi..." Iruka had been touched, struck, moved to pity, before becoming aware suddenly; of what Kakashi's expressive hands had been trying to hide. "Your hands are shaking!" Iruka grabbed at Kakashi's hands, pulled them into his, held them against his chest.

"I'm just cold. I feel cold." The rush of déjà vu at the familiar, blatant lie made Iruka gasp in sudden fear. He pulled the masked Jounin into a strong embrace, feeling faintly ridiculous for hugging the other man. Kakashi stiffened for a moment before relaxing affectedly, and it occurred to Iruka how starved for affection this man must've been - even Iruka knew how to shrug off an unwanted hug.

For a long time they simply stood there, Iruka grasping his friend's strong back, taking the weight of him. Eventually, Kakashi spoke, a mumbled vibration against Iruka's neck - the mask and his collar muffling the childish words: "I have to go."

"Don't you always?" Iruka let him leave, but it took a lot longer to part that time.

x

Late into that Friday night and Naruto was still eating. Iruka found himself drifting from the conversation, unable to stop thinking of Hatake Kakashi. Naruto, torn between raving at or about his tardy sensei, was not helping to distract Iruka as much as he'd originally hoped.

"He has another mission!" Naruto finally exclaimed around a mouthful of ramen, unaware how unsurprising this news was. "Kurenai-sensei hasn't gone on anything alone for months, and Asuma-sensei doesn't even get this many - I asked Kiba-kun and Shikamaru-baka!"

Iruka smiled in amusement as the ageing owner shot the young blonde an exasperated look. Naruto may have grown so much in the three years he'd spent with Jiraiya, but at the end of the day he was still Naruto.

"Kakashi-sensei has a very strong base of skills. It's natural that the Hokage would want to make the most of such an experienced shinobi. He was very young when he first became a ninja." Iruka could stop the tremble in his voice. He could. If he tried.

He supposed that this was what his life would be like from now on, wondered if knowing about Kakashi's missions would be any easier than not knowing. He also wondered if being close to Kakashi would be any easier than keeping his distance, even as he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep any sense of distance now that Kakashi had basically offered the academy teacher a slice of himself. Touch stone indeed. Of all the shinobi he could've trusted to do that!

Naruto seemed to consider his response over his bowl of ramen. Or perhaps, Iruka thought, he was trying to figure out the ramen's response. "You mean, because sensei's a genius? Like Sasuke?"

"No. Genius qualities are usually specific to certain fields, so while Sasuke, for instance, is a genius at ninjutsu, he had to train hard to become as skilled at genjutsu and taijutsu. After he'd activated the Sharingan, I understand he advanced far more quickly in these fields." At Naruto's nod he continued. "Neji-san is a genius at the Gentle Fist Style, but he isn't quite as sufficient in other areas, you see?"

"What's Kakashi-sensei a genius in then, Iruka-sensei?"

'Irritation techniques. It's a field all of his own.' Iruka bit down the thought. "Kakashi-sensei may be a genius at ninjutsu - especially with the Sharingan - but he has a strong knowledge of taijutsu and genjutsu. He mastered the Sharingan blood limit, remember. That must've taken a lot of hard work." Iruka was beginning to think he'd never convince Naruto of his teacher's respectability, but then, most of the time he had trouble convincing himself. Iruka was a teacher, not a miracle worker!

"Heh." Naruto was thoughtful for a moment. "So that whole eternal rivalry thing, that Gai-sensei insists on... the 'Genius Vs Hard Work! - 52 to 48!'" If the impression had been less accurate, Iruka would've scolded the boy, but the chop-stick aided Nice Guy pose was too perfect to not find amusing.

"... It's all basically a crock of shit?" Iruka wasn't the only one to choke on his noodles with laughter.

Naruto's exclamation had been loud enough for every shinobi in the busy ramen stand to overhear, and with the current gossip revolving around the Copy Nin, every shinobi in there had begun to drop their eaves as soon as they'd entered. Iruka didn't mind. He'd probably have done the same.

"Basically, yes!" Iruka grinned widely.

"Then why keep it going?" Naruto seemed dumbfounded at Iruka's shrug. "My lazy-arse teacher knows the meaning of Hard Work?" Naruto's grin was distinctly fox-like. "Oh, he's never living this one down!"

"Naruto..." Iruka was immensely glad that Naruto was no longer his student, eternally grateful that he had never got on the wrong side of the boy. "...Go easy on him, okay?"

Naruto's fox grin widened.

The ability to live an ordinary life, protect ordinary people, fight for one's village - all after murdering people, often without reason or brief -was not an easy thing to do. This was the reason the ANBU were so particular in their recruitment - rank and ability were not enough, and often barely taken into consideration. The real skill the ANBU sought was something its members jokingly referred to as 'flexible stability,' meaning that mental responses could be switched off or maintained as needed.

The influx of ANBU members during the last stages of the Third Secret War had been great, but not startling. The young generations, growing up in that environment, used to death and destruction and decay, were ideally suited for the insane pressures of the highest classes of mission.

All ANBU were encouraged to break down and relieve themselves of guilt as soon as a sensible opportunity presented itself, and so all ANBU assassins developed systems early on in their careers by which to allow themselves to break. Some cried like children, sobbing helplessly until they fell into blissful unconsciousness. Some trained to exhaustion, until their skinless knuckles bled too much to keep their grip on the defenceless object they were pummelling. Some held elaborate rituals for those they had killed, kneeling on bare wooden floors, respectfully pouring ashes and petals into containers to set free into the wind after several days of consecration and prayer. Some went home to their oblivious partners to gentle touches and brief, stray tears, while still others masturbated ferociously in the rank, beer-stained back alleys of Konoha's shadier streets.

This is why, as Kakashi propped himself up against his locker in the ANBU changing room, half-heartedly fighting the dreamy doze threatening his aching body after his three days on the field, he pointedly pretended he couldn't see the poor bastard in the shower. Curled up, foetal, sobbing and retching underneath the steaming water, not even flinching as it pelted a rain of harsh red dots upon his heaving back. They all had their ways of coping, just another skeleton in each man's closet. Kakashi was no different.

The Copy Nin's method of breaking was really what defined him as an ANBU. In a sense, it made him the perfect shinobi robot. Kakashi's ability to separate himself from his emotions had been honed from an early age. Had started on the day he'd walked into his living room to find his father had gutted himself upon the wooden floor. 'Don't think it. Don't go there.' It had become his mantra.

Almost methodically, he would clean his wounds, heal his body, eat, sleep, train; Kakashi would continue to live his life as he always did; live his own odd version of absolute normality for as long as he possibly could. Then, when he could stand no more and his actions and missions and pain and insanity and guilt crept upon him until he thought he would go mad with the utter enormity of it all - Kakashi would bury himself in a cocoon of blankets, encircled by his dogs in the dark. And he would stay like that, safe and surrounded, until the weight in his chest and the lump in his throat and the gripping fear had sedated. Was bearable again.

As a child he would hide in his teacher's cupboard, a testament to how young he'd really been, but when he'd first joined the ANBU there had been no-one who could pick a lock like he could. No-one else who could fit into those tiny little spaces to hide and spy and retrieved and destroy. So he'd performed a lot of missions back then, because there was no-one else alive to do it.

Sometimes, Kakashi could go for years without breaking. Sometimes it was a matter of days. He could feel it coming, though, and at times like this would normally avoid any high-class missions, anything that took him away from Konoha for too long. Kakashi had never truly snapped on the field, but he had never run the risk of it anyway.

But despite the warning signs, now was not the time to break. Now was the time to visit Iruka, and tease his Team, and bicker with the Hokage. Lately, though, Kakashi could not stop his hands from shaking, the memories of a year and a half's worth of missions and murders and trauma would just hit him suddenly, refusing to be ignored. But what could he do besides shove those shaking hands more deeply into his pockets?

He had never slouched as a child, never dared to leave his hands confined within his pockets before his first experience with ANBU level post traumatic shock Since then it had become second nature - 'just in case, Kakashi, your hands won't shake if no-one sees them' - just another strange habit that defined him, and Kakashi considered himself lucky that the shinobi he knew now were all his own age - because the comrades he'd had back then had all been too old and wise - suspicious and paranoid - to believe his masks were anything more than masks. Kakashi considered himself lucky about a lot of things, these days. If he didn't, he was certain he would scream.

Sometimes, though, there was nothing underneath.

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