Raidou focused on his mission scroll, memorizing details before he set it aside. The water shut off, and shortly afterward Genma appeared, towel around his waist.

"You bleeding?" Raidou asked without looking up.

"Not that I know of," Genma said, glancing down reflexively.

"There's blood on the sheets." Raidou studied Genma, willing the man to tell the truth.

Genma shrugged. "Don't think it's me, but I'll wash 'em. I don't have any missions until tomorrow . . ." he picked the senbon up off the desk, rolling it around on his tongue.

"You sure?"

"I think I'd notice," Genma snorted.

"I thought maybe it was from last night--"

Genma walked away from the desk, fingertips trailing along the wood. "I think I'd notice," he said again.

Raidou frowned and nodded. Of course he'd notice. It was his body. Raidou was worried for nothing, and--

He sat back as Genma slipped in front of him, straddling his lap. "What are you doing?" he asked with a half smile.

"Wooing you."

Raidou snorted. "Didn't we just do this last night?"

Genma slid his tongue along the senbon. "Well, if you don't want to . . . I guess I can always entertain myself . . ." The towel was coming undone.

Raidou swallowed, mouth going dry. "Are you sure you weren't hurt last night?" he asked pleadingly.

Genma's tongue stroked the needle before a hand rose, and he pulled it slowly out of his mouth sucking gently the whole time. "I'm sure," he said, once his mouth was empty.

Raidou's hands landed carefully on the man's hips, fingers sliding under the towel. "That's really goddamned hot."

Genma smiled. "I know."

**

"So, we done?" Hayate asked, rubbing one eye.

Dawn was giving way to full morning, only a few shadows above the trees lingering to remind them of the night before.

Iruka glanced at the boy--his age, with Mizuki two years older at eighteen--then at his squad leader. It was always weird when Mizuki led them. It made Iruka uncomfortable, though he couldn't say why.

"I guess so. Don't forget your paperwork." Mizuki handed a stack of papers to Hayate, and then shuffled through his own.

Iruka looked at Hayate. Hayate looked back, confused. "What about mine?" Iruka asked after a minute.

Mizuki glanced at him, then let his gaze travel slowly down Iruka's body. "I figured you could use some sleep, after the other night." He smiled knowingly.

Iruka looked at Hayate in a near panic. The other boy was staring at him, like he was trying to decide what might have been done the other night, but already had a good idea.

"I just helped him with some forms," Iruka said quickly.

Hayate shrugged with studied nonchalance.

Mizuki was already walking away. Iruka ran to catch up. "Asshole!" he snapped, punching the other boy's shoulder. "What's wrong with you?"

"What's your problem, Iruka? Damn, I give you a break and you punch me--"

"You just made Hayate think I was sleeping with you!" Iruka hissed. He was beyond angry--he was humiliated.

"I didn't say that. Whatever conclusions he came to were because of your reactions," Mizuki said coldly. "Now, buzz off. I don't want you around if you're just going to accuse me of things."

Iruka watched Mizuki leave, confused. Had he totally mis-read Hayate's expression? Had he just made a total and complete fool of himself? It had been a long night, and he wasn't thinking straight--

Shit. Iruka kicked at a stone and turned, hands in his pockets. He knew he had a tendency to overreact about things like that. Like when Ichiro had come into the bathroom while Iruka was changing. He'd accused his foster brother--almost his own age--of all manner of foul things. Ichiro had gone to his mother nearly in tears, who'd straightened Iruka out immediately.

Iruka didn't mean to make the worst of things. It was just--sometimes, he felt like he couldn't trust anyone. Not with his body. Not with anything like that.

He kicked another stone and realized he'd ended up in front of Raidou's house. He paused, glancing at the sky. Close to seven a.m. Raidou should be up.

Iruka fished around in his pocket for his key, given to him shortly after Raidou had moved to this place. This was Iruka's haven, Raidou the older brother he could talk to when he was too embarrassed or ashamed to talk to anyone else. Raidou was always there, and when he wasn't he let Iruka just stay at his place, in the quiet, eating his food and using his bed, gathering strength.

Iruka knocked softly. He could hear something inside, but couldn't make out what. Finally, he unlocked the door and peered in.

He only caught a glimpse of the men before they'd separated, cursing and swearing, diving for clothes or to the floor on the other side of the table.

It was more than he wanted. Iruka slammed the door and stood for a moment, trying to sort images while trying not to remember what those images were.

Genma on his hands and knees, and Raidou behind him, and they were--they'd been--

Iruka turned and started walking quickly away. Raidou wasn't like that. Raidou hadn't just been screwing Genma. He hadn't. Only disturbed men did that. Men who'd go after boys and tell them pretty things to make them--

The door to Raidou's house opened. "Iruka, wait!"

Iruka started to walk faster. He couldn't deal with this. Raidou couldn't have done that. His heart pounded against his chest, every muscle in his body telling him to flee.

Someone grabbed his arm and he froze, staring hard at his feet. He couldn't look up.

The image flashed into his mind--Raidou shoving forward, and this look on Genma's face like it was either painfully good or just painful--

"Iruka. Are you all right?"

He nodded stiffly.

"Will you come back to the apartment?"

He hesitated, looking up as far as Raidou's knees. The man was wearing pants, he realized distantly. "I'd rather not." Men who screwed other men were dangerous. He knew that.

"Will you sit on the porch?"

He couldn't tell Raidou no. It was Raidou. Haltingly, Iruka followed him back. He must have looked awful; not once did Raidou let go of him. "Sit," the Jounin said quietly.

Iruka sat on the little bench, scooting as close to the edge as he possibly could.

Raidou liked men. He couldn't be trusted. Men who liked other men were wrong. They did bad things, and--and--and Raidou hadn't told him.

He stared at his hands, tucked between his knees. Raidou wasn't like Michio. He didn't like boys. Except he'd been fucking Genma--

"Iruka, I'm really sorry."

Iruka felt a laugh bubbling up, and quashed it ruthlessly.

"Look, it's just--it's just Genma. Not anyone else. We've worked together for years now, and he watches my back and . . . I trust him, and . . ." Raidou sounded like he was struggling for words.

Iruka spoke softly, hiding the bitterness in his voice. "You love him?"

"I don't know that it's that far . . ." Raidou said dubiously. "But strong like."

"And that makes it okay to put your--your--" Iruka blushed and glared at Raidou, looking up for the first time. "Your thingy up his ass? What's he think about that?" He realized he was shouting, but couldn't bring himself to stop. The world was spinning wildly around him.

Raidou leaned forward, and Iruka jumped up, out of reach. The man wasn't even wearing a shirt. Iruka darted to the porch rail and stopped, turning, holding onto it behind his back. "How could you do--"

The door opened and Genma stepped out, fully dressed, his hair wet.

Iruka dropped his gaze, feeling his cheeks turn red again.

"I thought maybe I should head home," Genma said quietly.

"Genma," Raidou said, sounding pained. "You got evicted."

"Well . . . yeah . . ."

Iruka started to laugh, bit down on it when he heard how high it was, and shook his head to clear it. "I'll go."

"Iruka--"

He flinched, knowing Raidou well enough to know that the man would reach out to him. Raidou liked to touch. "It's fine," he said, still staring at his shoes. "I have to get home. Been out all night. Need sleep." He turned quickly and darted down, off the porch.

"Iruka!" he heard Raidou shout, feet banging down the steps after him.

Iruka turned, half afraid of feeling a big hand land on his shoulder, fingers tight enough to bruise--

Raidou froze. "Come back later?" he asked after a long moment.

Iruka nodded, having no intention of actually doing so. Then he backed up slowly, until he was sure Raidou wasn't going to follow, and turned to run down the street.

**

"And here I was gonna say Iruka reminded me of me at that age," Genma said dryly. "Your mom's okay with it, but your foster brother freaks?" He crossed his arms over his chest, peering down the way Iruka had bolted.

Raidou collapsed onto the bench he'd occupied a moment before, face in his hands. "Iruka was molested."

"What?" Genma said, disbelief and shock warring in his voice.

"When he was twelve." Raidou dropped his hands and looked up. "You remember babysitting him that night, before they moved him to my house?"

Genma nodded slowly. "I just figured he'd pulled too many pranks, and was being put somewhere he could be supervised."

Raidou smiled bitterly. "Remember pulling Michio off him a few days later?"

Genma's consternation turned to a look of horror. "Shit. That asshole." He sat slowly on the bench next to Raidou, eyes distant. "Fuck. No wonder the kid freaked. I guess you can be a little homophobic in cases like that . . ."

Raidou smiled slightly. "I guess." He stared at his hands--big and rough--then looked back up at Genma. "Don't tell anyone. The only people who know are some officials, me, my mom, and Mizuki. My siblings seem to think Michio scared Iruka, and Iruka hasn't corrected them. I don't think I was supposed to tell you."

Genma nodded silently. "Yeah. I can keep my mouth shut."

Raidou sighed. "Thanks." They sat in silence for another moment before the Jounin looked up. "I'm gonna head home. See if I can talk to him before I have to leave."

Genma nodded. "Yeah. Good idea. I'll just--clean up breakfast."

Raidou stood, heading down the steps. He paused and looked back. "Don't forget to eat, huh?" he said with a smile.

Genma snorted. "Yeah, yeah . . ."

**

Iruka stopped running, hands on his knees, head between his legs, breathing. He couldn't go home. Hanayo would ask him what was wrong, and either she didn't know about Raidou and Genma--and Iruka didn't want to be the one to tell her--or she knew and didn't care, and might be upset with him for reacting this way.

He couldn't go home.

He turned and headed toward Mizuki's house instead.

A few minutes later he was standing on the porch, banging on the front door. Mizuki opened it, eyes sleepy and pajamas low on his hips. "Jeez, Iruka. What? Shouldn't you be in bed?" Then he took a good look at Iruka. His face cleared. "Come in. What's wrong?"

Iruka pulled off his shoes, breathing fast, trying not to panic. "Raidou's screwing Genma," he said, voice breaking.

"He is?" Mizuki asked, more curious than anything.

Iruka looked at him.

"Oh. Oh. That's a bad thing," Mizuki said, realization in his voice. "Right. Um. Sorry about that. I--" he stopped and looked closer at Iruka. "Shit, you're really rattled. Hey, sit down. Relax. It's okay."

Iruka collapsed onto the couch, head in his hands. "What am I gonna do?"

"Nothing," Mizuki said, voice fading as he headed into the kitchen. "Iruka, if he wants to fuck other men, there isn't anything you can do about it."

Iruka looked up, watching him through the cutout in the kitchen wall.

Mizuki paused, sake cup in hand, and looked over. "You don't drink, do you?"

Iruka shook his head.

Mizuki sighed and put the sake cup back. "Tea?" he asked after a minute.

Iruka nodded.

A little bit later Mizuki came out, carrying a teacup. "I don't have any loose leaf stuff," he muttered, setting it down.

"Thanks," Iruka said softly. Bagged was better than nothing. He knew Mizuki didn't drink it at all; only kept it around for visitors. The only visitor he got was Iruka.

The couch dipped as Mizuki sat next to him, hands folded between his knees. "This really upsets you, huh?"

Iruka nodded, cradling the cup. "I trusted him. Do you have any idea how many times I've slept over at his place? And all that time--how do I know he wasn't--" He was shaking. Raidou had seen him. Nearly naked. What if the man had looked? How was he supposed to talk about anything with Raidou now?

Tea sloshed in the cup. He tightened his grip, trying to hold it steady. It didn't work.

Mizuki took his teacup carefully and set it down on the side table before it spilled. "He looks at you like a brother. I don't think he was lusting after you," he said with a smile.

Iruka rubbed his arms and nodded. He wasn't sure he believed it, though. How could he be sure? True, Raidou might not have really wanted anything, but every time the man looked at him--he'd trusted Raidou, and now this.

You couldn't trust people. It just wasn't safe.

"It's okay. Relax."

"What if he looks at me?" Iruka said. He realized his eyes were tearing up, and rubbed at them awkwardly. He felt like such a fool. Sixteen, a shinobi, and crying on his best friend's couch.

He missed his parents.

"I'll beat him up for you," Mizuki said with another smile.

Iruka laughed brokenly. "Thanks."

Mizuki's smile softened, and he reached up, tugging once on Iruka's earlobe. "Come on. Feel better."

Iruka sniffed. "I just didn't expect it at all."

"I know." Mizuki sidled closer, until they were shoulder to shoulder. "Does it bother you that I . . . ?"

Iruka shook his head. "You sleep with everything."

Mizuki laughed ruefully. "Yeah, well . . ."

Iruka snorted, still staring down at his hands. He wasn't shaking so much. The shock was wearing off. Maybe he could drink tea.

He felt Mizuki shift, and then lips on his cheek. "Mizuki!" Iruka yelled, bringing an arm back quickly and elbowing the older boy. "Cut it out!"

"Ow! Hey! Sorry! Jeez. I was just trying to make you feel better," Mizuki muttered, shuffling away.

"Coming on to me isn't going to make me feel better!"

Mizuki ducked his head. "Dad always said love made things better," he mumbled.

"Your dad was a pedophile," Iruka snapped. "I don't think his judgment was the best."

Mizuki glared at him sidelong. "Don't say nasty things about my dad."

Iruka ignored the statement, burying his head in his hands.

A moment later, Mizuki sighed. "Sorry."

"This mess is all your fault, anyway!" Iruka yelled, head whipping up so he could glare at his friend.

"What?! I didn't tell Raidou to go fuck Genma!"

"No, but if you hadn't been an ass earlier I wouldn't have gone looking for Raidou, and I wouldn't have seen what I saw!"

Mizuki's eyes widened. "You actually saw them fucking? Oh, man. Was it hot?"

"Mizuki!" Iruka shouted.

"Okay, okay," Mizuki laughed.

"Oh, crap. I can't go home after this," the words were a groan as the boy dropped his head back into his hands. "Can I stay here?" he mumbled through his fingers.

"Of course. I think I even have extra PJs, if you want."

Iruka sighed and turned his head, looking at Mizuki through his fingers. Mizuki was eighteen, taller than Iruka by several inches, but not much wider. "Yeah," he said after a minute. "Thanks."

Mizuki just nodded and stood, heading to his bedroom. "You know where the blankets are."

Iruka nodded silently, even though Mizuki couldn't see, and got up to get bedding.

**

Raidou walked into his mother's house, dropping his shoes by the door and looking around. "Iruka?" he yelled.

"Don't shout," his mother hollered from a room to one side.

Raidou smiled slightly and followed the sound of her voice. He found her in her sewing room, mending a pair of pants. "Have you seen Iruka?"

"No--I assumed he was at your place," Hanayo said, glancing up.

Raidou shook his head, then cringed. "Well, he was. He left." He stared at the floor for a moment, then looked up at his mother. "He knows about Genma and me."

Hanayo's eyebrows rose. "How did he find out?" she asked slowly.

Raidou cringed. "He saw . . . uh . . . "

His mother closed her eyes, obviously counted to ten, and opened them. "You didn't tell him."

Raidou shook his head.

"What were you thinking? You knew he'd take it badly."

"That's why I didn't tell him!" Raidou yelped.

"You just thought you could keep it from him forever?"

Raidou cringed. "I--I don't know . . ." He shoved his hands in his pockets miserably. "I fucked up."

"Yes." His mother jabbed the needle into material and left it there, dropping the pants on her little table. "If he's not here, and he's not with you, then he's probably at Mizuki's."

"Should I go--?"

"No," she said, glaring up at him. "Let him sleep. They've been out on a mission all night."

"I have to leave this afternoon," Raidou said hesitantly. He didn't want to leave things like this.

"Let me talk to him. Just make sure you come back."

Raidou nodded glumly. "I will."

**

When Iruka got home later that evening, Hanayo was up. He hesitated while pulling off his shoes, then steeled himself and finished, walking into the main part of the house.

"Hello," he said quietly.

She was mending Iruka's old pants by lantern light, sitting in her favorite chair. She looked up, smiled, and put them aside. "Sit, Iruka."

He did, fumbling himself into another chair and folding his hands properly in his lap. "Those for Akeno?" he asked. Iruka had outgrown them the year before, but Akeno--even though he was only twelve--was already tall enough to wear them.

Hanayo smiled and patted the cloth. "They are. I can't seem to keep that boy dressed . . . "

Iruka laughed uncomfortably.

"Raidou was by earlier today."

Iruka winced. "Oh, yeah?" he asked. His voice was thready, even to his own ears.

"Hmm. He said that you'd walked in on him and Genma having sex."

Iruka curled farther back into the chair and stared at his hands. "I should've knocked . . ."

"He thought you seemed rather upset by it."

If the ground had opened up and swallowed him whole, it would only have been a good thing. He couldn't decide which was worse: having seen Raidou and Genma doing that, or feeling so ashamed about it. He didn't even know why he felt ashamed.

"Why did it bother you?" Hanayo asked quietly.

Iruka felt tears prickle the back of his eyes, and blinked them away quickly. "I don't know."

"How did it make you feel?"

"It's stupid," he muttered.

"Feelings don't follow logic, Iruka."

He rubbed at his face and didn't look up at her. Hanayo had taken classes in counseling two years before, when Iruka's nightmares and outbursts of temper suddenly got worse. They'd gotten through it--barely. He remembered that feeling, like drowning in anger and not knowing why. He remembered talks with her that went on for half the night, while they tried to figure out, together, what was going on. He remembered her saying that. A lot.

"Betrayed," Iruka muttered at last, into his hands.

"Why?" Hanayo asked quietly.

Iruka dropped his hands, staring down at the floor. The house settled, creaking and whispering. He followed the emotion back, tracing it to some sort of source; something that felt right.

"I thought he was safe," Iruka murmured. He rubbed his eyes again, feeling them start to water. "I thought he was safe, but he's not."

"He's still Raidou," Hanayo said. "He's just as safe as he was before."

"But it doesn't feel that way," Iruka said, making an effort to keep his voice down. Somewhere in the house, Ichiro and Akeno slept. "Emotions don't follow logic," he said bitterly, throwing the words back like a challenge.

He looked up to see Hanayo smile slightly. "No, you're right. They don't."

"He didn't even tell me himself," Iruka continued, the dam broken and words flooding out.

"He was hoping to spare you."

"Spare me what? He could have told me and then--" then he didn't know what would have happened. "Then I wouldn't feel lied to!" he snapped. "I feel so--so--dirty again," Iruka said, standing. Too much energy to remain sitting. He couldn't do it. "I slept over at his house! If I had known I could at least have worn bigger clothes!" He paced to the dining room and back, shaking. "I hugged him! A lot! We trained and--and grappled! I let him touch me because I thought he was safe, and he's not! He lied!" Iruka froze, anger washing away suddenly. He burst into tears.

That seemed to be Hanayo's cue. She stood, wrapped strong arms around him, and squeezed.

Iruka hugged her back, leaning his head on her shoulder. She was still taller than he was, though not by much. All the Namiashis were tall.

He clung to her solid frame and cried brokenly, years of hurt pouring out. His mind leapt, striking from one painful memory to another, as if Raidou had had a hand in everything. He knew that wasn't the case, that painful memories just cued other painful memories, but it didn't seem to matter.

He was never going to get out from under this shadow. He knew it, suddenly. Michio would hound him for the rest of his life, affecting everything he did, polluting everything he touched.

He mourned.

Eventually, though, even the painful memories had to subside. He leaned against his foster mother, hands holding onto the back of her dress, arms too tired to keep squeezing. He sniffled.

The bouts of emotions--be they anger, grief, or disgust--were getting shorter, some clinical part of his brain noted. That was good.

He was just tired.

"Feel better?" Hanayo asked, petting his hair.

Iruka nodded. He still felt hurt, but not like he was going to throw up at any moment. He pulled away slowly, wiping off his face with the palm of his hand, embarrassed. Sixteen-year-old ninja weren't supposed to cry.

"Are you going to be okay?" Hanayo asked.

Iruka nodded again. He felt mostly empty, like all the painful emotions had been lanced. It wouldn't stay that way, he knew from experience. Still, it did seem to be getting better little by little. He smiled weakly. "I just think maybe I'll avoid Raidou for a little while, okay?"

Hanayo nodded and reached out, smoothing away a tear with her thumb. "He's on a mission. You have a few days."

Which was her way of letting him know that he wasn't allowed to just avoid the man forever. Iruka ducked his head, already starting to dread seeing his foster brother again. What was he supposed to say?

"Why don't you go to bed," Hanayo said, stepping up beside him, arm on his shoulders, leading him toward the hallway. "I'll check on you later."

Iruka nodded again. She would, too, and that made him feel better. Even if he had nightmares, she wouldn't let them carry him away.

Her hand dropped off, and he walked down the hall toward his bedroom.

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