Chapter Six: Family

May 29-June 10

Thursday, 8:48

"What are you going to do about Michio?" Shikaku asked quietly.

The Third looked up, smiling sadly. "I don't know. I'd like to send him to prison, but he's a powerful ninja, and we're in a war. We need him."

Shikaku hesitated, then stepped forward. "His only child is a Chuunin, now. He can take care of himself. We have S-ranked missions he could go on. He'd be put to use, and he wouldn't be near any of the kids."

The unspoken words, 'and if he dies, better him than a good man,' hung in the air.

The Hokage nodded after a moment. "Do it. And find his son. Get a counsellor to talk to the boy. Make sure Iruka was the only one."

Shikaku nodded and left.

**

Friday, 8:33

He had been excused from that day's mission. Instead, he sat in his bedroom, packing. Packing his clothes, his books, photos, anything he might want.

They said he could come back for anything else, too. That this house was still his. He wasn't sure he believed them.

Iruka felt numb. He'd tried to explain to the Hokage, tried to show him that it was really all right, he knew what he was doing, and Michio was good. The Hokage didn't believe him.

Upon returning home he'd tried to leave again, to seek out Michio and explain. Michio would know what to do.

There was a Jounin at his door. Introduced himself as Genma, and said he was supposed to stay with Iruka through the night.

Keep him safe.

Keep him trapped, was really what they meant.

Iruka even tried to sneak out a window, but Genma was smart. Iruka hadn't even hit the ground before the man grabbed him, hauling him back inside with a pleasant smile.

Michio hadn't come by. Iruka didn't know if he wasn't allowed, or hadn't found out.

Iruka had started crying at midnight. Genma had found him, told him everything would be all right. Iruka hadn't answered. What did that bastard know? He hadn't had his friends betray him, his family killed, the family he'd finally carved out for himself taken away. Even his house was gone, since Iruka wasn't allowed to live there anymore. Nothing was the same, and he didn't want any of these changes.

He felt ten again, hearing that his parents were dead. Powerless and small and alone.

He cried himself into exhaustion, finally falling asleep for a few hours just before dawn. When he woke, his eyes were nearly swollen shut, he felt sick, and Genma was putting his clothes into boxes.

Now, staring around his room, he didn't feel anything.

Someone knocked at the front door, but he didn't move from his bed. A moment later he heard it open, and there were voices. Genma, greeting Raidou's mother.

Iruka didn't even know her name.

A teenager slouched into the room a moment later, looking annoyed, hands shoved in his pockets. "Hey. Mom said we have to help carry boxes . . ."

Iruka stared blankly at him.

The kid fidgeted. After a moment he turned to the hall and shouted, "MOM! What should we take?"

She appeared an instant later, tall and strong, with brown hair pulled back into a braid and a soft look in her eyes. "Anything in boxes, Ichiro," she said, a hand resting on his head for a moment.

He picked up two, stacking them on top of each other, and marched them out of the room.

Akeno ducked inside, was handed two boxes, and also left. Genma hovered in the doorway, cloth tied over his head. "Should I . . ." he trailed off, looking lost for the first time.

"Take some boxes and follow the boys," she said cheerfully.

Genma glanced at Iruka. Iruka looked dully back. Then the older man took four boxes, and headed out.

The bed dipped as Raidou's mother sat down, her hands folded in her lap. "How are you holding up?"

Iruka shrugged, looking at the floor.

"The Hokage has asked me to see that you go to a counsellor."

"I don't need a counsellor," Iruka muttered. He looked up, hopeful, at this woman who seemed so soft and caring. "Could I see Michio?"

"No," she said quietly.

Iruka stared at his feet.

"Do you understand why not?" she asked.

Iruka remained silent.

"What he did wasn't right."

She knew. She knew everything. Shame washed over Iruka, breaking the comfortable numb feeling he'd been wearing. He knuckled at his eyes. "It wasn't his fault," he said, hearing the catch in his own voice. "It was my fault. I--"

"It was not your fault," Raidou's mother said, steel in her voice. "You're a child, Iruka, as much as you like to think you're all grown up. You look to your elders for what's right and wrong, and he warped that."

"He loved me," Iruka whispered. His vision blurred, tears falling again. "There's nothing wrong with--"

"There is when a grown man loves a child. There's something wrong with Michio, and he used you."

"No--" Iruka said, shaking his head quickly. "He loved me, and--"

"There are also men who love to rape women," she said, quietly. "Does that make it all right?"

Iruka stopped. Then he closed his eyes, shaking his head as if he could shake the thoughts away. "That's not the same."

Raidou's mother was silent.

After a long time, Iruka murmured, "You're not going to let me see him?"

A hand smoothed his ponytail, straggly and falling down. "No."

Iruka wiped his eyes again. They were sore and raw from tears, still swollen from the night before. "He was nice to me."

The hand on his hair slid around his shoulders, pulling him close, tucking him against a soft side. "I know. I'm sorry."

Iruka held himself stiff for several minutes. But she smelled good, and rubbed his arm in a way that wasn?Äôt uncomfortable, and she was soft and warm. Eventually, he relaxed, head on her shoulder. Tears fell silently. When he couldn't stop crying she shifted around and pulled him closer against her chest, both arms strong around him.

Iruka buried his face in her shirt and tried to keep quiet, but didn't quite manage it. When it was finally over, when he couldn't possibly squeeze another drop from his eyes, Genma was standing in the doorway, looking upset. "Is everything okay?"

Iruka started to pull back, but the arms around him tightened. He buried his face in the woman's neck and tried to pretend like no one else was there. "Fine. We'll be out soon," she said.

Footsteps slipped quietly away.

"I got your shirt all wet," Iruka murmured.

A hand patted his head. "That's all right. Many boys have before, and I'm sure many boys will again."

Iruka sniffed, and nodded, and eventually sat up.

"Shall we go home?" she asked.

Iruka glanced around. "I am home."

Raidou's mother smiled painfully and brushed loose hair away from Iruka's face. "I know. Shall we go to my home?"

**

Saturday, 12:33

Taro excused Iruka from their mission the next day. Iruka had to go see a doctor. A woman, with a sharp face but a ready smile.

Iruka refused to talk to her. She would tell him about how everything was wrong, and how they had his best interests at heart. How could anyone have better interests for him then he did?

He sat and glared at her, and eventually the time was up and he went to the house he was living in.

The room was Raidou's old one. Iruka didn't like it, but there wasn't much he could do. He avoided as many people as possible, managing to meet only Akeno on his way to the back of the house, and locked himself in.

After a long time, footsteps came down the hall. Someone knocked quietly.

Iruka burrowed deeper under the covers and refused to answer.

"Dinner's done, when you're ready," Raidou's mother said. Then she left.

Iruka stayed where he was until it got dark. The sun went down, and the stars winked into life, peering at the world below. When the moon was high, Iruka crept out of his room and past all the other bedrooms, heading toward the main area.

He paused in the kitchen doorway, scowling.

Raidou froze, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. "Hi," he said quietly.

Iruka glared at him. That was the man who had ruined his life.

Raidou smiled slightly. "I just got back from a mission. Didn't mean to wake anyone."

Iruka glared at him.

Raidou held out the bento box of leftovers. "Want some?"

"I hate you," Iruka growled.

Raidou flinched.

Good.

Iruka turned and walked away, ignoring the way his stomach muttered, ignoring the shame and guilt, and especially ignoring the tears that gathered again behind his eyes.

**

Wednesday, 2:41

Things had settled into a routine. In the morning, Iruka went to the counsellor they told him he had to see, and listened to her say that Michio didn't really love him, and what had happened was wrong, and so forth. In the afternoon he joined his team, wherever they were, and helped them either finish their mission, or he trained with them.

In the evenings he ate dinner with Raidou's family--without Raidou--and then he went to bed as soon as possible.

The nightmares, where everyone he knew and loved either died or told him he was worthless--

("Disgusting, foul boy, turning perfectly good Jounin into perverts, letting him do those things to you, you should be ashamed--" Taro or his mother or Raidou would snarl, face black while they tied him down and beat him--)

--were new, but becoming customary.

He took to walking at night. Oftentimes, there was a candle burning when he got back, lighting the way in the door and down the hall. He supposed Raidou's mother left them. He didn't ask.

It was on one of those walks that he saw Mizuki, staggering in from a mission, looking tired and worn.

Iruka called and hurried to catch up, feet slapping the stones loudly in the quiet darkness.

Mizuki kept walking.

"Mizuki! Wait!" Iruka said, finally catching up and grabbing the boy's sleeve.

Mizuki yanked out of his grip and shot him a hard look. "Leave me alone. You told them. You're disgusting."

Iruka flinched. "I didn't--"

"Go away, Iruka. You got my dad in trouble. Leave us alone."

Iruka stood, hurt and afraid to try again, watching his only friend walk away.

Eventually, he headed back toward the place they'd put him. He stood outside the house, looking at the dark windows and the single, lonely candle that stood in the doorway.

It wasn't his house. They weren't his family.

He sat down on the porch and hugged his knees.

He wasn't allowed to live in his house anymore. His family was dead. The family he'd adopted had been taken away.

Iruka leaned his forehead on his knees. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't. He wouldn?Äôt.

After a while the door behind him opened. He smelled lemon and mint, and knew it was Raidou's mother. He didn't look up.

She sat down beside him, tucking her bathrobe around her ankles, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. She pulled him close and held him there.

Iruka leaned against her and didn't cry.

"Everything will get better," she said quietly.

Iruka let go of his knees, wrapping his arms around her waist instead. And cried.

**

Friday, 11:21

"Have you spoken to Raidou?"

Iruka stared out the window, chin on his fist, refusing to look at the counsellor. "No."

"He only did what he thought was best."

Iruka didn't respond.

"Have you spoken to anyone about what happened?"

A bird landed on the sill outside. "No."

"Why not?" The woman was persistent, he had to give her that.

The bird flew off again, cheeping as it went.

"What about Mizuki?"

"What about Mizuki?" Iruka returned.

"He's your friend, right? Have you spoken with him?"

"He won't speak to me." He had no friends. Not anymore. It wasn't any fun painting cows when Mizuki wasn't around to laugh about it with.

"Iruka, I'm going to cut our session short today. There's a man here who would like to talk to you."

Iruka flinched.

"His name is Uchiha Masato. He's a police officer with the sexual crimes unit."

Iruka locked his jaw and said nothing.

A moment later the door opened, and a tall, slender man with black hair entered. The counsellor left.

Iruka did his best to pull away, while not actually moving.

"Iruka, I'd like to ask you about your friend. Mizuki."

He stared out the window and pretended like he wasn't listening.

"Iruka. This is serious."

Slowly, he turned to regard the policeman.

"I'd like you to think back, and tell me if you remember Mizuki ever mentioning that his father touched him. Like he touched you."

Iruka scowled. "No. Michio loved me, and it's wrong to love your own children that way." Everyone knew that.

"I know. But I'd like you to try and remember if there was anything that might make you think Mizuki was hurt, too."

Iruka frowned. Mizuki was strong. Mizuki was his best friend. Mizuki was grown up and--

--and Mizuki wouldn't speak to him anymore.

"Iruka? Do you know?"

**

Friday, 7:58

"Mizuki!"

Mizuki kept walking.

Iruka ran faster, trying to catch up. "Mizuki! They made me talk to a cop today!"

Mizuki slowed down, but didn't stop.

Iruka had to, panting, hands on his knees. "They wanted to know if you'd been raped."

Mizuki stopped. "What?" he asked over his shoulder, voice cold.

"They wanted to know," Iruka said between gasps, "if your dad had touched you. If you'd been raped."

Mizuki turned slightly, looking back over his shoulder. "What did you tell them?"

Iruka straightened, taking one final deep breath. "The truth. You'd never said so. That's right, isn't it?" When his friend didn't answer right away, he stepped forward slowly, dread growing in his stomach. "Isn't it?"

"That's right," Mizuki murmured. "Just tell them that." He turned and began to walk again.

"Mizuki!" Iruka yelled, trotting to catch up. He reached out to grab the teenager, but stopped short. Mizuki stood, still not looking at him. "Your dad didn't do that. He didn't touch you like that. Right?"

Mizuki ran a hand through his silver hair. "Fuck off, Iruka." He started walking again.

Iruka kept pace. "You know all that stuff about sex because--because you've done it. But not with your dad." His voice was almost pleading.

Mizuki shot him a glare and broke into a run.

**

Friday, 9:45

He felt like his world had been turned upside down.

He went back to his house, despite the fact he wasn't supposed to be living there, and pulled clothes onto his parent's bed, snuggling into a nest that smelled like them.

Michio couldn't have done that to Mizuki. That was just wrong. You did that to people you loved, but not to your children.

Mizuki knew a wiener up his butt would hurt. He knew what a rape test was. He knew putting your mouth on someone's weeny might taste bad.

But he was fifteen. That was old enough to have experimented.

Iruka wasn't sure how long he laid there before the front door opened. He half expected Raidou's mother to come walking in, wrap him up in her arms like she had before, and rock him wordlessly.

Instead, when he looked up, Michio was standing in the doorway.

Relief flooded Iruka. He scrambled up and was halfway across the room before he remembered the accusations.

He paused, smile falling slowly off his face.

"They wouldn't let me see you. I'm sorry," Michio said quietly.

"Did you--" he stopped. He couldn't ask Michio. The man would be furious, and rightly so. But he couldn't not ask either.

Iruka took a step away. "Did you have sex with Mizuki?"

Michio's smile vanished. "What? Who said that?"

"Did you?" Iruka took another step away. Panic fluttered in his chest. Michio hadn't come right out to deny it. Iruka wished he would.

Michio couldn't have had sex with Mizuki. He couldn't have. Because if he did that, if he was willing to do something so wrong, then everything they said could also be true.

Maybe Michio didn't love him.

"I love my son," Michio said quietly.

"I know. But did you have sex with him?"

"I love him--"

"Like you love me?"

Michio smiled. "Yes."

Iruka took another step back, felt the bed, and started edging around it. The room was dark. He wasn't sure when it had gotten so dark. "Did you touch him?"

"He makes things sound worse than they are--" Michio started.

"He didn't tell me that. You had sex with him, didn't you? Did you--did you put your--" he waved a hand in Michio's direction. "It in him?"

"Iruka--"

"He's your son! You're not supposed to do that stuff--"

"I love him--" Michio walked forward.

Iruka darted back. "Did you touch him?"

"He liked it!" Michio snarled. "Don't pretend like he was some sort of innocent--"

Iruka shook his head. This wasn't happening. It wasn't. Michio was his friend, and listened to him, and told him he was grown up and brave and--

--and touched Mizuki, all the time, a hand in his hair or a kiss on the lips--but some parents did that, Iruka had seen it--

--and Michio let them stay up late and didn't yell at them or scold them--

--and Mizuki had told Iruka what a blow-job was when Iruka was only eleven and Mizuki only thirteen, but maybe that was normal--

--and Michio didn't scold--

Iruka yelled, drowning out the shouting Michio was still doing, drowning out the voices in his own head. "How could you do that? Everything they've said is true! All of it! You hurt him and you did that to him and--and maybe to me--and--"

"I loved you, Iruka, and you liked it, don't pretend you didn't, I saw you react--" he reached forward. When had he gotten so close?

Iruka ducked and tried to race around, only to be snatched up by the scruff of his neck. He screamed.

"Iruka!" It wasn't Michio's voice.

The window shattered. A body flew in, and someone spat, and Michio was falling. Iruka landed like he'd been taught and rolled, suddenly free, realizing Genma and Raidou were both there, and there was a senbon sticking out of Michio's mouth and he was gagging.

Genma held three more between his fingers, standing like a guardian over the fallen man while Raidou picked Iruka up, checking him quickly.

"What just happened?" Genma growled.

"Nothing," Iruka cried, letting Raidou cradle him, laying his head on the man's shoulder, burying his face in the scarred neck. "Nothing happened. I want to go home."

**

Friday, 10:01

Raidou kicked the door of his old bedroom closed, leaving Genma downstairs to explain to his mom that they'd found Iruka, and they thought he was okay, and everything was fine.

Iruka hadn't spoken since Raidou had picked him up. He was still crying, though silently, obviously trying to pretend like he wasn't.

Voices came down the corridor; his mother's marching, and Genma's trailing behind. A fist pounded on the door.

Raidou stepped away. The door opened. "I've got this," he said, still holding Iruka like the boy was five.

Genma, hovering behind his mother, looked slightly panicked.

"You're sure?" his mother asked.

Raidou nodded. His arms were starting to get tired. Iruka was small for a teenager, but he was still a teenager.

His mother left, closing the door behind her. He sat heavily. "You okay?"

Iruka started crying harder.

Raidou stiffened. "Did he hurt you?" he'd thought they'd gotten there soon enough. He prayed they'd gotten there soon enough.

Iruka nodded.

Raidou pushed the boy back slightly, running eyes and hands over him quickly, as impersonally as he could.

Iruka struggled away and up to his feet, looking horrified. "What are you doing?"

"You said he hurt you--"

Iruka closed his eyes, shaking his head, rubbing at his face. "Not like that."

Raidou relaxed.

Iruka kept backing up, though he didn't look nervous. Almost like he wasn't aware he was doing it. Eventually he hit the wall and leaned there for a long moment before sliding to the floor. He wrapped his arms around his knees, burying his face.

Slowly, Raidou stood and walked over, sitting down beside the boy. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

"Why would he do that?" Iruka said into his pants.

"He's very sick."

Iruka was crying again. "He said he loved me."

Raidou flinched.

"He said--but he didn't, did he? He didn't care about me at all. He just wanted--he wanted--to touch--"

Raidou wrapped an arm around the kid and pulled him close, hugging him so tightly he felt the child's joints compress.

Iruka didn't protest. He leaned into it, sobbing wretchedly. "He wanted to use me and I just let him. He said I liked it, but I didn't. I swear."

"It's okay," Raidou murmured, rocking the little form back and forth. "It's not your fault."

"He touched me and--and I--he said he loved me but--"

Raidou tightened his grip even farther, as if he could squeeze out the pain. He'd seen ninja, tortured and beaten, begging to just be killed because they couldn't be saved. It wasn't as bad as this.

"Oh, please, I didn't mean to," Iruka cried wretchedly. "I let him touch me and--and I hated it but he said he loved me.

"He didn't love me at all."

**

Monday, 3:13

Iruka stepped out of the school, bag slung over his shoulder, and stopped.

Mizuki glanced up at him, and straightened away from the tree. "Hey."

Iruka walked forward slowly. "Hey." He hadn't spoken to the other boy since the Friday before. He'd been afraid to.

"They sent my dad away. S-class mission. He'll be gone for six weeks or something," Mizuki said, shuffling a foot into the dirt. "Told me I should take a few days off and think about things." He eyed Iruka from under his brows. "You didn't tell them . . . anything . . . did you?"

Iruka shook his head. Then he winced, and looked down. "I told them things about me. And your dad. But--not anything else." Iruka paused. "Did he . . . ?" Michio had as much as confirmed it, but it didn't seem real. Iruka wanted to pretend like Michio hadn't done anything to Mizuki. Like everything was all right. Like the man had only meant he loved Mizuki like every father loved their child. Not like he'd loved Iruka.

Mizuki glanced around warily, then shrugged and stuffed both hands into his pockets. "Doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters," Iruka said, distress clear in his voice.

"No, it doesn't," Mizuki snarled. "Just because you don't want to be the only fucked up person around. Don't drag me into this."

Iruka pulled back as if struck. "But if he hurt you--"

"He's my dad, and I love him," Mizuki snapped. "Besides, he's the only family I have. You have Raidou's family and--and the fucking Hokage looking after you, but I only have him. What if I did go tell them he'd screwed me, huh? Then what? Then I wouldn?Äôt have him, because he'd be angry, and then no one would like me, because I'd be this fucking little perv--"

"It's not like that--" Iruka tried to say, but Mizuki just ran right over him.

"--and he'd fucking kill me anyway if I told them that, so you'd just better shut up about it, Iruka!"

Iruka pulled away at the last, when Mizuki's voice rose and he stepped forward threateningly, one hand in a fist.

"I won't tell," Iruka said softly. "If you don't want me to, I won't. But I think you should."

Mizuki kicked a tuft of grass. "I'm fine."

They stood in silence for a long time. Iruka shifted his bag from one shoulder to the other, muscles sore.

"I didn't come here to yell at you," Mizuki said finally. "I--I wanted to know . . . you're okay?"

Iruka started to nod, then stopped. "Well, no, but . . . but . . . I've been having nightmares," he said quietly.

Mizuki nodded, staring at the ground. "Me, too."

"Bad?" Iruka murmured.

Mizuki nodded. "But they start to go away," he said, glancing up briefly. "After a while."

"What are yours about?"

Mizuki shrugged. Then he looked up, smiling cautiously. "You want to go paint a big face on the Uchiha fan?"

Iruka hesitated. He didn't, really. But Mizuki looked so hopeful, and that was his best friend asking. A friend he'd thought he'd lost. So he nodded. "Sure."

"Cool." Mizuki grinned.

**

Tuesday, 1:15 a.m.

Iruka grabbed the blanket off his bed and pulled it haphazardly around his shoulders, stumbling out into the hall.

He couldn't sleep after the last nightmare. He was getting tired of staring at his ceiling. So he wandered into the living area, and from there into the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, blinking at the light.

Raidou froze, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. He lowered them slowly. "Hey."

Iruka eyed the man, then looked down at his feet, ashamed. After he'd stopped speaking to Raidou, and then sobbed on his shoulder, the man had gone on a mission. Apparently, he'd gotten back.

He smelled like sweat and soot.

Cautiously, Raidou held out the bento box. "Want some?"

"Don?Äôt you have your own home to go to?" Iruka asked crossly.

Raidou shrugged. "It's nicer here. And my food always spoils."

"Isn't there a staffed Jounin kitchen, just because of that?" Iruka said, knowing full well what the answer was.

Raidou shrugged again and smiled halfheartedly. His hand was still out, bento box resting between them.

Iruka looked back at the dark hall, and his empty bedroom. He pulled his blanket tighter around him, contemplating the warm kitchen. The warm kitchen that Raidou, who'd betrayed him and hurt him and saved him and seen him cry, currently occupied.

Slowly, Iruka inched farther in. He pulled a pair of chopsticks out of a drawer, and, not looking at Raidou, dug a bit of cold chicken out of the noodles.

Raidou sighed softly, and shifted to the tiny kitchen table, sitting the bento box in the middle. After a minute, Iruka followed.

"You settling in okay?" Raidou asked softly.

Iruka shrugged, then tossed out like a challenge, "I'm going to take down the posters in my room."

Raidou shrugged. "Don't throw my old ones away, okay?"

"They're dumb."

"When I was your age, they were cool."

"What, when the First still was alive?"

Raidou smiled and pointed his chopsticks at Iruka. "Punk."

Iruka tried hard to look unimpressed, but he could feel a smile trying to break free.

"How's your training going?"

He hesitated. "I don't think I'm going to make the Chuunin exams."

Raidou dug through noodles, twisted up a mouthful, and paused. "We could start working together again. It might help," he suggested casually.

Iruka ate a peanut. "Let me think about it," he said after a while. He had a lot to think about, these days.

Raidou nodded. "Sure. Take your time. Let me know when you're ready. I'll be here."

Iruka poked a bit of broccoli. "Thanks. I will."

--End