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There were many things Kakashi expected when he was summoned to the Hokage himself. Solo missions from the Hokage — whether it had been Minato or now Sarutobi-sama — were the most dangerous and confidential he had ever received. There were many a jobs that had rendered him useless for days following or riddled him with shaking, sweat filled evenings that relived the days he tried to forget. A mission from the Hokage was special, though almost exclusively some of the most dangerous one could be given. That didn't matter to him, of course. It was his duty to help the village, and if he was one of the few who could be trusted with such he would take it with pride. It was nothing more than he should expect.
He never would have considered that the meeting would be for his dismissal.
As his mask was tossed to the wind, Kakashi did not feel at rest. There was a tension in his gut that made him ill as he entered the door of his apartment, and a rage seated in his chest that caused his jaw to tremble.
He had served the village well for sixteen years. He had been a part of mission after mission during the war with the Fourth Hokage, the man trained by one of the three Sannin. He had climbed the ranks of shinobi faster and younger than any of his peers. The only boy who had come close was Itachi, and now… well, Kakashi was in a far better position with the village. He was one of the youngest to be appointed to the Anbu and served them for ten years — a captain for the majority of it! His place was to serve the village at the highest level he was able, to take on the missions that so many could never stomach.
But now? Now he was tossed to wind alongside his mask. Alongside the identity he had held close for so long. And for what? Nearly all of his missions were successful, and even those that weren't he returned with valuable information even at the cost of his own sanity. He had continued his work after countless captures and near-fatal wounds and jutsus that drained him beyond what he thought was possible.
Kakashi was far from weak; any other shinobi in the village and quite frankly most of the other villages could attest to that. And yet he was cast aside so easily as if he could no longer take it. Because the 'darkness' in his heart had grown too wide. What was that even supposed to mean? He was useful. Did that mean nothing?
He wasn't aware he was sprawled on the floor until a knock came from his door that startled him into being painfully aware of his body once more. He was hardly in a presentable condition. He had turned in his Anbu uniform as instructed, and only wore his usual dark pants and mask-tank. Even the bandages that often wound around various parts of his limbs where nowhere. Though he certainly could use them after the wounds.
He didn't plan to open the door, both because he didn't particularly like being seen in such disarray and because he frankly wasn't interested in a conversation. But looking through the small pinhole, he saw it was Iruka and thought it better to at least humor him with an appearance.
Kakashi met Iruka when he was still just a scared, trouble making boy. He still remembered bounding footsteps and a knock that felt painfully loud to the migraine building behind his eyes. He remembered the shock and quite possibly horror on the boy's face when he answered before he steeled his face and introduced himself with a crooked smile as his neighbor just two doors down. They became more acquainted than intended when Kakashi wandered into the barely fifteen year old's door instead of his own after a particularly taxing mission. He had been there since, and he couldn't help but notice the conveniently placed rug where he had fallen, covered in blood both his and others.
Gave the poor kid a heart attack.
He looked a bit startled when the door opened. His eyes raked across his disheveled state for a moment longer than seemed appropriate. "You look like death." He said plainly.
Kakashi shrugged, allowing a hint of a smirk. "You've seen me at worse."
Iruka shook his head. "I heard you fall. Just happened to be passing by, I got back from a mission a few hours ago."
"…Fall?" He didn't remember falling.
His face scrunched with concern. "Yeah… sounded like it. I was walking by and heard what sounded suspiciously like a body hitting the floor."
He supposed he had found himself on the floor. "Right. Fall." He blinked. "I'm fine."
He raised an eyebrow. He wasn't convinced. "Did you have a mission?"
"Got back a day ago." He said. "I'm quite alright, really, Iruka. I appreciate you checking, but I rea-"
Iruka's hand stopped the door before he could close it. "I thought you might like to come over for a meal."
Kakashi groaned, because he couldn't exactly say no, and he knew exactly why he asked. It had become a somewhat common occurrence. Kakashi struggled, Iruka noticed, and he made some small attempt to keep an eye on him for at least a few hours. He appreciated it, of course, though he couldn't help but feel like a liability at every offered meal or spare cup of tea.
He snickered. "Am I that bad?"
"No." He said quickly. "No, not at all. I'll… that sounds lovely."
He was motioned to take a seat at the small wooden table while Iruka pulled some ingredients from cabinets. He moved the chair to be closer to the prep space, so it wouldn't be such an awkward distance. They talked idly for several minutes before anything came of it.
"I guess you'll be off on another mission soon, huh?"
It was only an attempt at small talk, but it still stung to know the answer. "No, I don't think so. I'm afraid it will probably be quite some time."
He hummed. "I suppose you couldn't tell me why, Anbu and all."
Kakashi attempted a laugh, but the way it was forced out of his throat was obvious. "No, it's nothing like that. I was… discharged today, actually. Sarutobi-sama wants me to be a jōnin sensei."
Whatever utensil he used clattered to the floor. It was horrible, to see someone he'd become so closely acquainted with be so aware of what was believed to be his own weakness. Perhaps it was.
"Well, that's… Kakashi, that's great." He didn't face him as he spoke. "You can pass on your skills, the workforce will grow incredibly in ability with your guidance. You'd be a wonderful-" His face well when he turned around to see Kakashi's unenthusiastic stare. "Well, then. You're not happy about it."
"The stove's still on."
His eyes lingered on his face a moment before he turned to take the rice off of the stove. The room was silent as he scooped some into bowls and cracked two eggs into a pan. "You know I care for your wellbeing." He said as he set the bowls on the table and gestured for him to move the chair back. "I'd love to lend an ear, but I can't do much besides offer a meal or sit beside you in your fits if you're not willing to talk."
Kakashi pursed his lips together. He was right, yes, that there wasn't much anyone could do if he wouldn't tell them, but he wasn't the kind of person to tell people much of anything. Gai might catch him in a moment where he couldn't handle the visions that danced across his eyes or he could curse about something vague enough that it would remain confidential, and God knows what Yugao and Tenzo had witnessed from him.
"I've been in the Anbu for ten years." He managed. "I've been a shinobi for sixteen. You'd think that would be enough to prove my worth."
"That's ridiculous. You've proven your worth hundreds of times, Kakashi."
He shrugged. "And yet…" He gestured vaguely to his lack of uniform. "I am discarded at the mere age of twenty-three. The decades I could have still to be useful-"
"You're not being discarded." Iruka interrupted. "I mean, honestly, you're spouting nonsense."
"Anbu is the best place I can serve the village." He insisted. "There are few who do, and if I'm no longer good enough for that how can I expect to serve meaningfully? I become a waste."
Iruka stared at him with a confused shock on his face. He studied him, like he was looking for something, before sighing heavily. "Look," he spoke calmly, but there was a threatening firmness laced within, "you're not gonna want to hear this. But that is some of the most idiotic thinking I've heard in a long time." Kakashi stared, eyes wide with the confusion of such harshness. "What, you would say I'm a waste because I'm not jōnin or Anbu?"
"What? No, of course not."
"I perform my missions just as anyone else here." He continued. "Why would that be any different for you? Regardless of what missions you take on."
"Iruka, for ten years I've-"
"For ten years — sixteen years — you've served us to the best of your ability. But, honestly, Kakashi, you have to admit the limits that- that you and every other jōnin or Anbu have been pushed to for years is- it's fucked up, okay?" His voice pleaded something he didn't understand. "You were a kid, Kakashi. I mean- how old were you when you were in the war?"
He opened his mouth, but… he wasn't sure. "I- seven? I don't know, Iruka, that's really not-"
"Seven." He repeated it like he was trying to make sure Kakashi was the one who knew. As if he wasn't the one who had just told him. "You were a kid. You shouldn't have been in that war, you shouldn't have been placed in Anbu, and you shouldn't have been going on back-to-back missions that left you- you know how it left you. I know how it left you." Kakashi was struck with the vivid memory of feeling like he was hacking up his own organs with the blood he spit out as sixteen year old Iruka broke the seals and picked the lock on his door. "Look, I'm proud of this village, I am. I'm proud of this village and I'm proud of the Will of Fire we stand for. But you have to admit that all of us sit in compliance to some terrible things. Things that you and so many other adults and kids alike have been victim to."
His jaw tightened. "I'm no victim. It's standard practice. I graduated when I was ready. I moved up when I was ready."
"You weren't-"
"I was!" The insistence that he was some kind of weak victim was starting to piss him off. "I was at the skill level. I showed what needed to be shown to know that I had what was necessary to work in the field. They deemed me ready."
"They deemed many ready who should not have been." He bit back. It stung to hear, to imply that Kakashi did not deserve the positions he'd been given. "I know that there are people I may never know of that are far younger than they ever should have been, and I know there are people I do. Itachi was-"
"Itachi committed genocide." He hissed. "If I had the clearance I would-"
"And you think being put to so much at so young had nothing to do with it?"
"I was where I was meant to be." His voice was far more desperate than he could stand, but the words came out anyway. "If now I'm too- too weak to serve where I'm meant to…"
When Iruka stood and advanced as quickly as he did, he nearly expected him to pull out a weapon. The fire in his eyes was often intimidating, but it seemed especially so as he stood above him. No weapon was drawn, however, and no blow was struck. He stared from above him for a long moment with a fury that threatened to rid itself from him. He crouched, taking his hands. They were rough, callouses pressed against the pads of his fingers.
"Kakashi." He wasn't sure if the firm gentility or his own heightened emotions were what made his heart race. "No one thinks you're weak. I'm not- he changed you because it was unfair, not because you are weak. And… as a sensei! Think of all the knowledge you can pass to them." When it didn't get to him, he tried again. "It's not my duty to judge the systems we abide by. Maybe you were ready but I need- I beg you to at least understand that it was not fair."
Iruka's nails digging into his fingers grounded him somehow. He didn't believe it. He wasn't sure he could ever believe it was unfair. Nothing had been done to him he had simply done it. But Iruka… there was something he needed to hear. He didn't think he could say it, but he could at least nod.
Iruka released his hands but still stayed crouched for a moment. Kakashi laughed, awkward but lighthearted. "Maa, you're too young for this Iruka. You should be off with- with girls or-"
He snorted, taking a seat across from him once more. "You're hardly older than me, Kakashi-san."
He couldn't help his amusement. "And yet you still find the need for honorifics after all these years."
"You're impossible."
"I try."