Year 1

Hiruzen assigns Kakashi his first genin team. Kakashi fails his first genin team. It's a promising start to his post-ANBU career.

"Reintegrate into standard shinobi society," Hiruzen had said when asked what to do in the absence of a team, as if Kakashi had ever truly been integrated in the first place.

He does the same as he ever has, except with more grocery shopping, more eating out, and more walking around the place. He doesn't have a team to reintegrate back into, so the only real difference in his routine is that he picks up missions from the desk rather than the hokage and goes home to an apartment instead of the Hatake residence, which he finally sold to the neighboring Nara clan. If nothing else, he can admit that living in a place with no bad memories is freeing.

And, of course, he deals with people calling him a name that doesn't fit. 'Hound' isn't as bad as the name that designates him as a woman, a name that hasn't felt right since he started to figure himself out at fifteen years old.

He isn't happy trying to chat with other shinobi while they refer to him by a name and gender that aren't his, and they aren't happy to talk to someone who's as bloodthirsty and callous as his reputation implies, so he doesn't even try fitting in with anyone he doesn't already know. It isn't worth it.

If he were a stranger, however…

Using the tactics he learned for undercover work, he creates a layered seal to disguise his appearance: One layer to change the tone and timbre of his voice so that it sounds masculine; one to hide his ANBU tattoo and his battle scars; one to transform his hair; and one to alter his chakra signature. He leaves his self-inflicted scars and kunai handling scars in place since they wouldn't seem too odd on a civilian, and frankly, there's enough of them that the seal and transformation would take quite some work to build. Each copy of the seal is imbued with enough chakra to make it last for about twelve hours, with the ability to feed in more chakra to keep it going.

The rest relies on practical effects to bind his chest, wear green contact lenses, and apply purple makeup and stickers to mark his face. Though the scar through his eye is gone with the transformation seal, the markings will cover it up should the seal fail or be rendered inert, and they'll make him memorable as "the guy with the purple markings" more than any other distinguishing feature.

He almost cries the first time he completes the disguise. His long and untamed white hair, which people say makes him "wildly beautiful," is replaced with less eye-catching short brown hair. His frame is clearly that of a man, youth clinging to his cheeks yet his chest flat and sculpted. Some of his worst scars are gone from his sight.

He cannot become Kakashi. He cannot give up the name that his parents gave to him, cannot risk the potential emotional and chakra instability of hormone therapy, and cannot forfeit the role of Hatake kunoichi that his father entrusted to him. Nor can he take on the mantle of Hatake clan head—a patriarchal role—when his father was, and always will be, the last. Kakashi will not disturb his legacy.

But he can be Sukea.

He doesn't do much of anything on his first couple times out as Sukea. He simply explores and eats out, feeling vulnerable with only a couple of hidden weapons and no chain mail, but civilians simply aren't armed and armored to the teeth. A couple of civilians strike up conversations and he tries to keep up, but awkwardly backs out after a few minutes of small talk. He ends up uncertain about whether he even wants to integrate into the community or make friends or whatever it is he should be doing. Maybe it's enough to want to be happy, and to make the choice to become that kind of person when he wears the disguise.

Afterwards, every time he removes the disguise, he stares at the woman in the mirror and the pain of who he has to be hits him hard once more.

He sets aside the disguise for months, taking mission after mission until there's little to think about except getting things done and returning home alive.

His mind buzzes with thoughts of nothing, keeping his eye on the ground in front of him as he takes one step after another. It is a walk with no destination; something that should feel normal, but instead feels like an endless march towards nowhere, forcing his aching feet to move. If he trains further, he will collapse. If he rests, he won't have the will to get up again. He is neither mission-ready nor able to disappear into a dark corner in an ANBU facility.

"Tazu! Join us for dango!" Guy calls from somewhere on his right.

Kakashi doesn't pay him any attention, letting the people around him fade from his awareness as he trudges onward.

As impersonable as Kakashi is, he is not a ghost, particularly not when the Third Hokage puts him on forced leave after too many missions in a row. "Reintegrate," he tells Kakashi sternly while handing him a pamphlet advertising local events, and so Kakashi finds himself taking long walks and rereading his favorite books in odd places, making awkward small talk with the few people who don't go out of their way to avoid him, and using the pamphlet as a list of times and places to avoid.

Half the time he has his book out, he's people-watching rather than actually reading. It makes for good intel and keeps him from getting too bored. It's also interesting to note who spots him and who fails to do so. His white hair, long enough to reach halfway down his back, is hardly discreet when he leaves it down, but he's good at fading into the background.

When a dead-eyed chunin sits on the bench beneath his perch with a heavy sigh, he figures it's time to get in some of that human interaction the hokage wants him to have. "Hey," he calls down, startling Iruka into looking up at where Kakashi's seated on a tree branch. "You know, this is my special seat. I can't concentrate on my reading when someone's making such a loud sigh next to me."

Iruka looks far more chastised than he was going for. "Oh… I'm sorry. I'll move away now," he says, moving to stand.

Kakashi hops down quickly and stands before the bench. "Ah, don't worry about that. I wasn't planning to stay that long, anyway. Hey…" He leans forward, looking at Iruka's nervous face. "You look down. What's wrong?" Iruka shifts his gaze away. It's not an outright rejection. "If you feel like talking, I'll listen."

Iruka closes his eyes and doesn't respond. Kakashi sits beside him, casually crossing one leg over the other, and waits patiently. Iruka's always been so vibrantly emotional—so unlike Kakashi himself—that it's almost alarming to see him like this.

"Tazu-san," Iruka says finally. The name makes Kakashi's skin prickle uncomfortably. "I've been assigned as… you know, that one boy, Naruto… I'm his new homeroom teacher."

Kakashi puts his arm over the back of the bench. "Is that so?"

"I went to ask the Third Hokage to relieve me from that assignment. He wouldn't see me." Iruka folds his hands together and rests his chin atop them, but he doesn't stay there long, hands moving restlessly. "I don't know how to deal with Naruto," he says, his voice rising. "I'm not qualified to teach Naruto!"

Irritation and hot anger rise in Kakashi's chest, but he seals them off as he has learned to do in recent years. Iruka's judgment of Naruto comes from ignorance, not cruelty. "I see. So that's why you look so dead."

Iruka raises his head from his hands. "Huh?"

"Your eyes. They're normally so full of life. When you chose to become a teacher, they were so passionate." That was only a year ago now, when Kakashi had to split ANBU work with standard jonin responsibilities in the wake of the Uchiha massacre. Iruka joined a few of those missions before deciding he wasn't cut out for field work. He turns his head to look straight at Iruka, though he avoids eye contact. "Perhaps you've forgotten a basic rule of teaching: You cannot open the mind of another unless you yourself have an open mind. Or perhaps you're trying to forget."

Iruka curls his hands into fists. "The Kyubi sealed inside of Naruto is responsible for the deaths of my parents. I'm fully aware that Naruto is not to blame. But whenever I see him, I can't stop remembering the Kyubi hiding deep inside of him. I don't think Naruto would be open to someone like me."

"You are the only one who can reach Naruto's heart." The other teachers have given up on the kid, that much Kakashi knows, and it's too late for Kakashi himself to step in and offer help. Iruka has the spark to pass along the Will of Fire, but that was never going to be as easy as it sounds, and Iruka needs to realize that. Kakashi stands and steps away. "That is your personal ordeal. One that the Third Hokage has given to you." He considers his speech and finds it too blunt; people don't normally like that. "Just hang in there a little longer. You'll find your way and rise up to his expectations," he says, putting encouragement and confidence into his tone.

Iruka stays where he is. It's not like they're close or Kakashi is any good at supporting people, and he feels a wall between them, both from Iruka's emotions and the barrier placed between them by the use of Kakashi's given name. It is the name by which Iruka knows him, but every time he hears it from someone's mouth, it feels like they're talking to someone who isn't truly him.

Kakashi gets the feeling that he's overstayed his welcome. "See you," he says, raising a hand and walking off.

It's a tough task the Third Hokage has put before him. Kakashi hopes, for both Iruka and Naruto's sakes, that Iruka can find a way to connect to Naruto and move past his fear of the demon.

Not long after that conversation, Iruka rescues Naruto from enemy ninja, Kakashi steps in to save them both because there's only so much Iruka can handle, and he watches Iruka treat Naruto like the kid that he is instead of a burden. The remnants of the anger he had been holding onto dissipate the moment he first sees Iruka protecting Naruto, and it alleviates Kakashi's worries to know that Naruto is in good hands.

Three days later, in the mission assignment room, is the next time they see each other. "I was wondering when you'd be back," Iruka says, selecting a scroll that must have been set aside as a fit for Kakashi's skills. "Good for an A-rank?"

"As always," Kakashi says, holding out a hand as Iruka passes him the scroll.

"I never did thank you for the other day. You showed up at just the right time, and you really showed your experience. I'm still a bit younger than you, but I'm learning, and…"

Anko snakes an arm around Kakashi's shoulders and grins at Iruka. "So, Tazu and Iruka, huh?"

Iruka's nervous smile worsens and his face turns beet red. "N-No, it's not like that, see, there was this missing-nin…"

"Uh-huh, sure," Anko says, nodding.

Kakashi extracts himself from her arm. Although her attention rubs him the wrong way, it pleases him that Iruka is so warm towards him. Iruka was always too polite on the few missions they ran together, and he's one of the few who have started to seem comfortable around him despite his reputation. "You're becoming a fine teacher," he says. It sounds lackluster and toneless, but he means it. He lifts the mission scroll. "I'll see you around."

The smile on Iruka's face fades. "Yeah. See you. Come back safe."

Now that Kakashi is out of ANBU, Guy is making up for lost time. It isn't unusual for Kakashi's training to be interrupted by a green whirlwind, forcing him to adapt and push himself harder. It makes for excellent training even if it sometimes makes him want to disappear, but at least Guy is good at picking up on when he wants to talk and when he has no capacity for socializing.

At least, most of the time.

This time, Kakashi's frustrated over a mission gone wrong and taking it out on training dummies. He lets himself feel the anger he normally buries: Anger at himself for his oversight, anger at the enemy for getting to them, anger at his teammates for panicking; and then, on top of it all, anger at the hokage, his father, and the village as a whole for all of their faults. The darkness that led him into Root in the first place never left; it needs an outlet.

Guy steps into his space and Kakashi doesn't give him a chance to breathe. He goes all out, sticking with taijutsu because that way he can feel when his fists hit, and he doesn't flinch away from the hits he receives. He's far harsher than he normally is with Guy, but now he's mad at Guy, too, for never giving him a break. He hits hard and it's satisfying.

It doesn't last long before Kakashi's on the ground. He knows he lost because he got stuck in his head, but this is precisely the time for that: When he's training on his own with no one who can get hurt.

Guy sits and looks down at him. "You're getting sloppy, Rival." Kakashi aims for his face, but Guy catches his fist and takes the opportunity to pull down Kakashi's sleeve, eyes narrowing at the red marks beneath. "You're not doing well."

Kakashi yanks back his arm and sits upright. "That's none of your business."

"You've been ignoring me again."

"You're an adult. You can handle it," he snaps.

"You've been ignoring everyone. Tazu, what's going on?" Guy puts a hand on his shoulder.

All this pushing, the physical contact, and the use of that name are too much. In a flash, his teeth are sinking into the back of his own bare wrist, digging deep without breaking skin, hardly dulled by the thin fabric of his mask.

Guy grabs a fistful of hair close to his scalp, grasping tightly in a way that pulls the hair painfully. Kakashi stubbornly clings for a moment longer before letting go, leaving behind dark red indents around an already purpling bruise. Although Kakashi still feels like everything is too much and he may snap again, a sense of relief slowly washes through him, smoothing out the edges of his anger.

"I sat by and watched you bury yourself in ANBU. Allowing you to isolate yourself again would be a disservice to you." Guy releases Kakashi's hair. He keeps his hand to himself, then, not touching Kakashi any further. "If you won't talk, then don't talk, but I will not let you push everyone away."

Kakashi grabs the front of Guy's jumpsuit, bringing his face close and looking just to the side of it. "I hurt people, Guy. I kill my enemies, I hurt my friends, and I hurt myself. It's what I do."

Guy shakes his head sharply. "ANBU may hold their secrets close, but even I know you're a good captain."

"The damage I do isn't always in battle."

"I would take every blow if it meant that I could stand by your side." Guy places his hand over Kakashi's. "This anger will not control you for long. You're a strong woman." This time, he sees the look in Kakashi's eye and clasps both of Kakashi's wrists, making Kakashi let go of him and preventing Kakashi from doing anything impulsive, his grip strong despite the way Kakashi attempts to pull away. "You will get through this. You always do. But this time, let your friends help."

Kakashi lets out a sound somewhere between a growl and a shout, then slumps as the energy leaves him. He wants to hurt Guy and push him away, even though he has long since trained himself to stifle such severe and contradictory emotions towards his friends. The anger is still there, ready to lash out again, but maintaining it is exhausting. "ANBU gave me an outlet."

"Killing people isn't an outlet. Neither is trying to get yourself killed."

Only once Kakashi relaxes does Guy let go of him. "You don't know what you're talking about." He presses his thumb against the new bruise, earning a disapproving look, but Guy doesn't move to stop him.

"Hang around every now and then. You don't have to say or do anything. Just… Stop drifting around like you haven't found your way back from the war," Guy pleads.

Kakashi stands and walks away, shaking out some of his frustrated energy. "Stop following me around like a lost puppy," he says, unable to put much heat behind the words. He will push Guy away today, maybe tomorrow, and then his anger will dissipate as it always does, leaving him with only regrets in the end.

Asuma flirts with Kakashi.

Kakashi—caught in between anger and sadness, that small window during which he would actually consider taking Guy's words to heart—flirts back.

He isn't very good at it, but Asuma seems charmed despite the awkwardness and they get far closer far more quickly than Kakashi imagined they would.

They're a thing for about two weeks before Kakashi ends up on Asuma's back porch at one in the morning, wearing nothing more than a thin bathrobe and smoking his third cigarette in a row, hair curtaining either side of his face.

"What's going on up here?" Asuma asks, tapping the side of Kakashi's head. Kakashi shifts his head away; the contact is overstimulating. "I'm not all that good at reading you, you know." He lights his own cigarette and leans against the railing, looking out across the village. He's handsome under the moonlight, wearing his own robe and slippers, hair already almost dry after showering.

"This isn't going to work out."

Asuma takes a long drag. "That bad, huh?" He doesn't sound surprised, which is a relief. Kakashi would be disappointed if he dated a guy who couldn't see something so obvious.

"I'd say it's not you, it's me, but that wouldn't be entirely true." The bitter taste in his mouth, along with the desire to press the burning tip to his own arm, remind him why he never smokes. That, and that he'd end up going through more packs than Asuma if he let himself keep this vice. The smell, on the other hand, is comfortingly familiar despite its acridity. "I have too many mental blocks for a relationship. I'm barely out of ANBU and I don't like my body. These things take time."

"I don't suppose anything I say could help you with the latter?"

"It would make things worse," Kakashi says bluntly. Dysphoria has such a tight grip on him that he almost regrets trying this in the first place. He cannot handle intimacy that centers on him being a woman. At least, not for the moment. Someday, maybe, he'll be able to endure it for the parts of dating that he enjoys. "You're still hung up on Kurenai."

"How do you figure that?"

"It's not hard to tell. She likes you, too. You're just shit at asking her out and this is going to make it harder."

"Maybe I realized that I want you more," Asuma says, turning to look at him.

"You're a terrible liar. I've made up my mind, anyway. I'm not prepared for a relationship, especially with a man who keeps trying to look me in the eye." He puts out the cigarette in the ashtray. Instead of lighting up another, he fiddles with his hair, twirling it around a finger for a few seconds before giving into the impulse to chew it.

"It's romantic."

"I don't like it," Kakashi grumbles around a mouthful of hair.

"I've been trying, but it's hard to figure out what works for both of us. I'm sorry, and… maybe you're right, but I don't see you as a replacement or anything like that, you know. I really do like you."

Kakashi shrugs. "I like you, too. But we're better as friends."

Asuma's cigarette burns out and he deposits the end into the ashtray. "You're probably right."

Year 2

Once the academic year is over and he has failed his second genin team, Kakashi picks up his Sukea disguise again, needing to rid himself of the crawling under his skin from the trio of genin who kept calling him by the wrong name. Two of them made misogynistic jokes, which rubs him the wrong way for more than one reason, and he hopes they're suitably chastised and able to shape up once they make it through the remedial year. He buries the concern that his testing is too harsh. Better to fail them now than let them fall in battle.

The disguise doesn't help any more than it did last year. He wanders, eats, and finds himself sitting at a park bench, staring at nothing in particular as the sun sets and casts everything in orange. What's the point if he feels like a ghost in his own village? He may as well be, considering all his friends are either gone or deep inside ANBU save for Guy. There's Kurenai and Asuma too, he supposes, but he's not entirely certain they consider him their friend.

Someone sits at the other end of the bench, making Kakashi's—or Sukea's—skin prickle, but he doesn't react. Iruka, he identifies by scent, accompanied as usual by chalk, wood shavings, and the particular window cleaner the academy favors.

"What a day," Iruka says, sounding exhausted.

"Could be better," Sukea murmurs.

"Do you ever feel like the world has it out for you? Like, you do everything right, but life's not fair, and other people are messing up other things, and you're staring at generations of broken infrastructure where you have to fill the gaps, but you don't have the power or money or hands to do it, and then… I'm not making sense, I know, but I'm so… augh!" Sukea turns his head to see Iruka shaking his hands emphatically before sinking back in defeat. "Are you mad about anything? Because I am so mad."

"Kind of, but I'm trying not to be," Sukea admits after a moment. "This is my designated happy outfit." He plucks at the long sleeve of his dark green shirt, the nice material stiff from disuse after being shoved into a closet for so long. "Which sounds pretty pathetic now that I've said it out loud."

"Did you designate it, or did your parents?"

Sukea looks at him like he's grown a second head. It's a question no one would ask the Copy Ninja and it completely catches him off guard. "What a strange question."

"Sorry, I mean, I just… " Iruka ineffectively pushes his hair out of his face. "I know some parents who do things like that for their autistic kids, or kids who need help with emotional regulation, and I can see you're at least a teenager, but…"

Sukea brings his hands to his face. "At least a teenager?" he asks, voice pitching upward. He touches his cheeks. He looks soft around the edges even in disguise, but surely he doesn't look that young.

"You know what, I'll just shut up and stop putting my foot in my mouth like I have all day."

"I'm twenty-three," Sukea whispers.

"With a designated happy outfit," Iruka points out, then immediately backtracks. "Which is fine, of course! I just… shutting up now. Yeah."

Sukea pulls his hands away. He makes himself lower them into his lap and forces a smile. "Fake it til you make it, right? Unfortunately, I've made the oversight of not having any friends in town. It's been a while since I was here last and I'm not that familiar. I admit that I'm somewhat aimless. Adrift. Is that too honest?"

Iruka sighs slowly, looking at the ground, then he stands, crosses the distance between them, and offers a hand. "What brought you back here?"

He takes the warm hand, covered in callouses and small scars that are all too much like his own, and allows Iruka to pull him up off the bench. He puts his hands in his pockets as they walk. "Do you have any particular calling, Shinobi-san?"

"I'm a teacher. I really like it, but some days, it's rough. Really rough. My name's Iruka, by the way."

"Sukea. I thought I had my calling, but I suppose not, and I'm trying to figure out where to go from here. I don't have a lot of hobbies, and work is… well. I'm interested in neither a desk nor a trade, and that leaves little in between."

"Do you have family in Konoha?"

"I grew up here. I'm on my own now. Where are we going?"

"There's a pond not far from here. Sometimes I go there to calm down. It's normally quiet at this time in the evening," Iruka says.

The pond is in the middle of a park, and while Sukea's been through here countless times, he can't say that he's ever stopped to appreciate it. He follows alongside Iruka as the two of them walk the path, orange lamplight glowing in the dark and bouncing off the placid surface of the water. Despite the stillness of night, insects and frogs are loud enough to cover the sound of their footsteps. "Do you take a lot of walks around the village?" Sukea asks.

"It's home. I might as well appreciate it. I don't often need to calm down, though. Today is just… it's been a day."

Sukea tries to remain present enough not to zone out as he normally does when he wanders. It helps to have Iruka's presence there to keep him alert. He glances up just in time to see a couple of bats fly swiftly in the air, silhouetted against the moon, then down at the water to see a relatively large fish pop its head out as it snaps up an insect, gone a moment later. He turns to look at Iruka on his right, whose smile is a little sad but soft under the glow of the moon and lamplight, and turns further to capture the sight with his Sharingan.

"What is it?" Iruka asks.

"I'd like to be friends," he decides. He doesn't know if most people declare their intent for friendship, but if Guy can succeed with that tactic, surely he can, too. Iruka would like Sukea. One night where he feels down won't offset the perky personality he has planned for this persona, and when they next meet, he'll have much better control over his actions. He smiles, then softens the smile so that it's not too intense. If he wants to come across as normal, he's going to have to practice emoting more smoothly. "Not many people would lend a hand to a stranger."

Iruka smiles back. "We all need someone to help us up every now and then. It's nice meeting you, too. I would've moped on my own otherwise."

"Do you do that often?"

"Just on bad days. But the world's bigger than the worries in my head. There's you, the toads, all the stars in the sky…"

Sukea looks down at the stars in the pond's reflection. "And tomorrow is a new day, so they say."

Three weeks and two missions later, Sukea happens upon Iruka halfway between the academy and Ichiraku. "Iruka-sensei!" he calls as they meet on the path. The students are already long gone; only teachers and pedestrians are around at this time.

"Sukea-san, it's good to see you," Iruka says, smiling. He closes the distance and stops a foot away. "I hope I didn't scare you off the other week."

"Not at all! I had some things to take care of, but I'm glad I've bumped into you again. I wanted to thank you. You could have just walked past, or talked down to me for being odd, but you were so nice. Do you want to grab dinner?" Sukea asks with a charming smile. He's been practicing.

Iruka walks along the street beside him, heading towards the area of town where most restaurants are. "You're not odd, but if you were, it would be fine. Honestly, I wouldn't judge anyone for being autistic or anything like that. We all have our differences."

"Sure," Sukea says, "but the outfit was really just a silly thing to get my mood up. I've settled in better now." Sukea is a civilian with no more trauma than losing his father as a teenager, and his only oddity is the eccentricity and impulsivity that sees him traveling or doing his own thing for weeks at a time. He does not have a favorite soft mask or over-sensitive nose, he's good at regulating his emotions, and he is ultimately a very normal person. "Konoha's a beautiful village at sunset, isn't it?"

"Have you seen it from up high?"

"I've seen people go up the monument, but I haven't yet made the trek myself."

"Maybe I'll show you the path up there sometime. There's so many more places you wouldn't know about from a map; have you gone exploring? Although you might want to be careful how much you explore, considering how many shinobi run around carrying pointy things," Iruka says, ending with a nervous laugh.

Sukea responds with his own laugh. "That has been an adjustment. Thankfully, most seem to behave around the village, no matter how well armed, and I'm familiar enough with shinobi not to be spooked."

"Have you gotten any closer to figuring out your calling?"

He whips a notepad out from his pocket. "I'm trying my hand at writing. Nothing has inspired me yet, so I'm writing what I learn each day. It's not a lot." He shows Iruka the sparse notes from today about places he's visited, a couple people he met, and the behavior of a few animals. "I might travel a bit and try to open my mind."

"You'll get that spark someday," Iruka says with a nod. "Have you eaten at Ichiraku yet? They might well inspire you to become a chef."

"The ramen stand? I can't say I have."

Iruka's smile turns into a grin. "Then allow me to introduce you to the best restaurant in Konoha."

Kakashi reluctantly joins Guy, Asuma, and Kurenai for dango. He does not eat or speak, nor does he reply when spoken to, and he gives Asuma a very long blink when the other man makes a vain effort to include him in conversation.

"My thoughts exactly, Rival!" Guy exclaims, ending the silent standoff.

"But…" Asuma starts. Kurenai kicks him under the table.

Kakashi doesn't hate it.

"I didn't know my calling right away," Iruka says over tea late in the summer. "I wanted to protect the village and fight for our people. Go out on missions. Become as strong and capable as I can so that I can keep innocents from getting hurt."

Sukea watches people walk past the small tea shop. He sees them, but he doesn't really see the people that they are, the ones whom Iruka wants to protect—and whom he protects as well, whether he thinks about it or not. "I take it you didn't lose that passion."

"Instead of pursuing violence, I turned to nurturing the next generation. I feel a lot more fulfilled this way. It's really good that I had that experience in the field, because I know what I'm talking about when I teach these kids, but it wasn't the right fit for me even though I thought for a long time that my path would be the same as so many other shinobi. Teaching isn't without its own struggles, either. I've got to teach kids about war, loss, and how to stitch up a wound, and there's some kids who don't have anyone else looking out for them. It's a lot of responsibility. I wouldn't have gotten there without giving other things a shot and realizing what I valued." Iruka ducks his head into his cup. "Not that finding your own path has to be that deep. We need those whose passion lies in creativity just as much as we need shinobi and trade workers."

Sukea looks at his own hands cradling the cup of tea. They're covered in blood visible only to him and he itches to scrape and wash it off. "What made you realize you had to change your path?"

"When I got hurt on a mission, it wasn't fatal, but it made me think about what would happen if I were gone, another spark snuffed out. The Will of Fire has kept me going and made me believe in Konoha. I realized what a shame it would be if so many shinobi after me never developed that passion for our village. Between that and being told how soft I was—which was the truth, honestly—it clicked." Iruka looks away, then back at Sukea, and asks, "Were you trained by family, or did you attend the academy?"

Sukea flexes his fingers. There are too many scars from handling kunai and shuriken to pass it off as anything else. "Sharp eye. I attended the academy for a year, so I can handle a few weapons."

"Is that how you got that scar? Training?"

"Which scar?" he asks cautiously. The one across his eye should be invisible.

"The one on the back of your wrist. I probably shouldn't ask, though, scars tend to be personal, I just… Kids bite each other, you know, and when it doesn't heal right, it scars." Iruka laughs nervously and rubs the scar across his face. "I've been told this makes me look like a badass, but I was a kid playing with kunai while my parents were out, and getting caught by one's own blade is kind of the opposite of badass."

Sukea traces the pale brown marks where his teeth once dug into his skin. He turns his hand over and pulls his sleeve back an inch, just long enough for Iruka to see the scars. "I'm not very badass either," he says, fixing his sleeve and picking his tea up for another sip.

"Does the, uh, happy outfit help?" Iruka asks, his expression remaining carefully neutral.

Sukea's wearing a lighter outfit today with pale colors and thin fabrics on account of the heat, but the disguise itself is technically supposed to serve as his happy outfit. "It's a work in progress. I hear that having friends to relax with is good for one's mood," he says with a smile.

Iruka's eyes soften. "If you ever need anything, don't be afraid to come find me."

"You have enough on your plate with those kids."

"Not so much that I can't make room for a friend."

"Iruka-sensei, please. I don't need someone else to help me bear my burdens. I need a friend and a purpose. I'm working on the latter, and as for the former…"

"We're friends," Iruka confirms, "and I still mean what I said. Friends are there for both the good times and the bad."

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. "As long as you don't frown on my behalf. I look forward to your smile, you know."

Iruka chuckles. "Your company's not so bad, either."

"Tazu-san."

Kakashi looks down at Iruka from his perch on the tree branch. The teacher does not look happy with him. "Did you need something? I'm reading."

"Yeah, and this is your special spot or something, I know," Iruka says, crossing his arms. "Your mission report was incomplete."

That would be the one he handed in some hours ago, shortly before lunch. "I know."

"You…" Iruka sighs in frustration. "You know it's incomplete. Okay. Then why the hell did you hand it in without completing it? And with blood on it, at that? Have some consideration!"

"I turned it in, didn't I?"

"You should know better! You're a jonin. You wouldn't even let me look at the report before you dipped. I could've at least taken the missing portion verbally."

"The missing portion was non-essential," Kakashi says boredly.

"I swear, your reports just keep getting worse…"

"Iruka." Kakashi snaps his book shut and tucks it away, folding one hand on top of the other and feeling the soft threads of his gloves, the metal protector warm and familiar against his gloved palm. "The report had to be delivered before another group could act upon the intel. I couldn't delay it, so I prioritized efficiency over handing you a clean and complete report."

"And you couldn't stay for two more minutes to answer the missing portions?"

"The room was loud and crowded."

"I can still hear you over them!" Iruka insists.

"I don't enjoy loud and crowded places," Kakashi says. He had been overwhelmed, but there's a limit to his honesty. It's enough if Iruka merely assumes this to be another of his eccentricities.

"The Copy Ninja can't handle a busy room?" Iruka scoffs and paces in place for a few steps. "You know, I don't get you. It seems like you care, but then you ditch anything that doesn't seem that important to you, specifically. And I get the brunt of it with your mission reports."

"Some of them are fine."

"Some of them are stained with blood!"

"Only a little bit, and only when I fail to notice blood on my sleeve. Not something I usually worry about when I'm on a timer. Really, Iruka, did you track me down just to lecture me about my reports?" Kakashi asks.

Iruka's shoulders slump. "I take my job seriously, you know. Even if it ticks me off, I can usually let the reports slide, but not this," he says quietly. "You're well past the threshold for mandatory counseling, Tazu-san. It's been two years since the last documented appointment, and with the amount of violent missions you've taken…"

"I sign waivers," he says dismissively. There are all sorts of reasons he has no interest in attending counseling, first and foremost being how useless it is.

"Waivers don't keep people alive," Iruka snaps. "I won't presume to know what's going on in your head, but I've seen enough people suffer the consequences of their trauma, whether that's faltering in the field or making irreversible choices at home. If you don't listen to me, fine, but I'll pray that you hold yourself together better than every other ninja who signs those waivers."

"I'll give it some thought."

"Sure, you say that, but you've clearly already made up your mind, and…"

"Iruka-sensei. I said I'll give it some thought."

Iruka looks like he wants to argue, but he holds his tongue and takes a deep, slow breath. "Okay. Do that. You're one of the best damn kunoichi we have in this village, and I'm not gonna let my negligence be the reason you get hurt or hurt yourself."

"Shinobi," Kakashi corrects. It may be respectful to acknowledge kunoichi, but that word has been getting under Kakashi's skin more often lately.

"Hm?"

"Don't bring my gender into it. I'm one of the best damn shinobi we've got."

"Yeah," Iruka says, nodding slowly.

Kakashi hops down from the branch. "In any case, I appreciate that you care, even though you should focus less on me than others."

"Every jonin is going to have to suffer my concern."

"So I'm not special?"

Though Kakashi says it flatly, it seems that Iruka catches the intended tone, his frown relaxing a bit. "You're one of a kind, Tazu-san."

Sukea bumps into Iruka in the Land of Lightning. He senses the teacher right before the other man stops beside him at a market stall, his scent and chakra familiar among the foreign atmosphere. "I didn't expect to find you here," Iruka says warmly.

"I told you I was thinking about traveling," Sukea reminds him. "What are you doing all the way out here? Vacation?"

"Courier mission. I run missions, mostly C-ranks, when school's on break. It's good for me to get out of the village every now and then." Iruka gives him a sheepish look. "I'm a sensor, so I felt your chakra from a couple streets away and thought I'd say hi. I know that can freak out some civilians, but it's not something I can turn on and off, so I apologize if it's a bit weird."

"I'm flattered you noticed me. Civilians have relatively weak chakra signatures, don't they?"

"I still recognize my friends, and your chakra's a little stronger than average. You had enough aptitude to try out the academy, after all. Have your travels yielded any inspiration yet?"

"As a matter of fact, they have." Sukea moves along from the stall to browse the goods in the next one. "I'm going to try out photography. How many marvels of the world, and how many marvelous shinobi, remain unknown because none have seen how they look? What memories can we capture forever that would otherwise fade with time? It will take some practice, no doubt, but I have patience." He makes sure his voice sounds passionate about it even though he personally isn't that interested. Photography will let him get up close to people and gather intel without much difficulty, but it will be a better cover if he has a purpose for it other than pure passion for the art. He's still mulling that over.

"Perhaps you'll share photos of your travels with me someday. If that's not too presumptuous," Iruka says.

Sukea laughs. He's getting better at making it sound natural. "Of course I will! We're friends, after all." He takes one last look around the market—appearing as if he's focused on the goods, not looking for anyone in particular—and determines that the shinobi he's been trying to track down isn't here. Disappointing, but it means he's free to spend time with Iruka, since the presence of a Konoha shinobi won't scare off someone who's not present in the first place. "Have you eaten? There's a great spot not far from here that you have got to try." He grabs Iruka's hand, leading him out of the market. Though Iruka splutters, he doesn't protest.

Year 3

Hiruzen looks down at the records on his desk. "This is three teams in a row that you've failed."

"Yes, sir," Kakashi says, standing casually before him.

"It is rare for a team to fail. What sort of test are you presenting them with?" Hiruzen asks as if he wasn't observing each team from the trees when Kakashi tested them. Perhaps he wants Kakashi to put it into his own words.

Kakashi pulls the pair of bells from his pocket. "They are given the task of retrieving these bells from me. Whether they succeed or fail is irrelevant; they need to demonstrate teamwork. So far, none of the teams have even attempted to work together." He tucks them away again. "With neither the instinct to protect others nor an awareness of their limitations, they'll get someone killed."

"Such things can be trained."

"Failure is a lesson."

"So it is," Hiruzen says with a grin. "I have full faith in your judgment, Tazu. It is the parents and clan heads who have objections. I will handle them." He shuts the folder and pulls out another one, sliding it across the desk. "On another topic, are you familiar with this young man?"

Kakashi opens the folder to find Sukea's shinobi registration form. The photo is recent, one that he took himself shortly after adjusting the disguise to subtly sharpen the too-soft edges of his face. It's standard practice to maintain official documentation for disguises as if they are independent shinobi, so he slipped the form into the records sometime after deciding that this would be a long-term alias. If he were to be captured, Konoha would need to know that he's a shinobi, not a civilian, and that he knows classified information. The clearance level marked on Sukea's form is only one step down from the hokage's own, a level primarily reserved for ANBU captains, select jonin, and record-keepers.

Most people wouldn't see the similarities between Sukea and Kakashi, but the hokage is in a league of his own.

"Sukea-san hasn't been causing any trouble, has he?" Kakashi asks calmly.

"None that I have heard about. I'm sure he's an upstanding young shinobi. However, I'm afraid that his documentation appears… lacking, and there may be details that were overlooked. If, for example, Sukea-san were a current or former member of ANBU, that would need to be marked on his file. And if he were to possess a kekkei genkai, that, too, would be important, even if we were not to record exactly which one it is." Hiruzen clasps his hands together. "Not that I would presume to know anything about Sukea-san, having never met him myself, but if he could stop by the records department at some point, I'm certain we can get everything documented correctly."

"I'll let him know next time I see him," Kakashi says, returning the folder. It's unusual for a shinobi to use a cross-gender alias, but Hiruzen isn't making any comments about that, leaving Kakashi simultaneously stressed and relieved.

"Thank you, Tazu. If you wouldn't mind coming back in a couple of days, I believe I will have a priority mission and a team ready for you."

"Of course, Hokage-sama," Kakashi says with a bow.

"Why don't you pick the snack spot next time? I know you're not fond of sweets," Kurenai says to Kakashi.

Kakashi twirls the stick with his final piece of dango, the savory-sweet glaze shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. "It's okay."

Kurenai looks over at Guy and Asuma, then leans closer. "We can always ditch the boys, if you prefer."

"I didn't think you'd have eyes for me, but if you insist…"

Kurenai's jaw drops and Asuma chokes on his dango. "I didn't—I'm not—Not that you're not gorgeous and all, but—I kind of…"

Kakashi lets his gaze linger on Asuma. "Well, I can't blame you. If nothing else, I suppose he does have a nice—"

Kurenai elbows him at the same time as Guy loudly asks, "So, what's everyone doing this weekend?"

Kakashi rubs the sore spot on his side and smiles.

Sukea lies back on the grass and stares up at the sky as the late summer sun warms his bare arms. Where Kakashi covers up, Sukea does not allow himself to be weighed down by his worries. He does not care if his shirt rides up and exposes part of his belly, smooth without a single battle scar. His smile is too bright to be dampened by the neat lines on his arms. The gentle wind tickles his bare, smooth face, and he does not shy away from the exposure or the scents all around him.

It's easier to care less when he's not himself.

He hears Iruka approach before the man appears above him, shaking a small bag. "Dango?"

Sukea slowly sits upright as Iruka sits on the ground beside him and hands him a stick of colorful dango. "How sweet. How was the mission desk?"

"I swear every genin team must have been in there today. I am completely wiped out. And the genin aren't even the worst of them; it's the jonin. They're total nightmares. Half of them haven't matured past thirteen. Asuma doesn't listen to a word I say, Ebisu's a total prick, Tazu always has her nose in that inappropriate book and absolutely refuses to make eye contact with anyone at the desk… They don't seem to care. I know that they care about the village and the people and they do well at their missions, but still. Wouldn't hurt for them to be nice for once." Iruka sighs and chews on his dango. "Aoba mentioned some weird guy with purple face markings lying in the park."

"Well, I don't see any of those around, so my company will have to suffice."

Iruka rolls his eyes. "You're a hard man to pin down. It's been two months since I last saw you. You really do travel a lot, huh?"

"I've been staying within the Land of Fire for the most part. I'll show you some of the photos tomorrow. While the traveling has been nice, I haven't had much time to relax, so I'm afraid I may not be the best company." In truth, he's been out of the hospital for two days, avoiding his friends as he typically does when he feels wrung out and oversensitive. He had thought to avoid Iruka, too, but hearing the teacher call him a man and seeing the way he acts so casually makes him feel warm and accepted in a way he doesn't always feel with his friends. It's worth the ache of the binder on his healing ribs and the trouble of discreetly carrying around a camera while out on missions.

"You're decent company regardless."

"Better than those jonin?"

"Absolutely."

"Hmmmmmm." Guy steps into line behind Kakashi and crosses his arms.

Kakashi stands there with his hands casually in his pockets. "Hey, Guy."

"Hmmmmmm."

He considers pulling out his book, but he's too alert right now to pay much attention to it, and it would be as much as admitting defeat in the face of Guy's pressured gaze.

"Hmmmmmm."

Guy will get to it eventually. In the meantime, Kakashi pretends not to feel the stares from everyone else in the mission room. Last night, he made the choice to cut off his long hair, leaving him with an unruly, spiky mess that refuses to be tamed. It was an impulsive decision, but he simply couldn't take it anymore. He's already heard whispers of what a shame it is that his beautiful hair is gone. But when he looked in the mirror this morning, he almost looked like a man. The difference is stark. Were it not for his chest, the soft shape of his face, and his voice, he would be perceived as a man.

Kakashi reaches the front of the line and steps up to the desk. Iruka looks between his paper and Kakashi a couple of times, raising his eyebrows. "Tazu-san, Guy-san." The name almost makes Kakashi flinch. "We have a mission earmarked for a pair like you. Hey, Izumo," Iruka calls down the desk, and then a scroll passes between three pairs of hands to reach him. He hands it to Kakashi. "It's domestic."

"And here I was, looking forward to a vacation." Kakashi flicks open the scroll to scan its contents.

Guy snaps his fingers. "Tazu! Of course! You cannot fool me, Rival, for I would recognize you no matter how you wear your hair! Such a bold, powerful look. It befits a shinobi with your prowess."

Kakashi gives him a long look. "I'm certain you recognized me by my mask. And my headband. And my voice. The color of my hair, on top of that."

"Of course! What kind of shinobi would I be if I didn't?" Guy laughs loudly, the sound far too forced.

Kakashi narrows his eye. Guy may be face-blind, but Kakashi has more than enough obvious cues. Something else must be on his mind. "Three weeks out west," Kakashi says, handing Guy the scroll. "I'm ready if you are."

Guy scans it briefly before tucking it away. "This sounds just right for us. Alright! I'll be at the gate in half an hour! Don't be late, Rival!" he declares, just short of issuing a challenge, and charges off.

"Tazu-san," Iruka says when Kakashi starts to turn away.

Hearing that damn name so often is starting to get to him. "Hatake-san," Kakashi insists.

Iruka pauses, then says, "Never mind."

Kakashi watches him until he determines that Iruka has nothing more to say, then gets out of the crowded room, breathing a sigh of relief once he reaches the quiet hallway.

"What am I to you, Guy?" Kakashi whispers. He stares into the dark forest, lit by a small fire and soft starlight, shoulder-to-shoulder with his dearest friend.

"You are my rival. My woman of destiny. Someone who has pushed me to my limits, kept me motivated and youthful, and stayed with me through thick and thin. Someone who continues to show your strength and beauty with every mission you take. A steady and reliable comrade." Quietly, Guy adds, "Irreplaceable."

For Guy to sound so subdued, Kakashi's anxiety must be showing.

Kakashi takes a few breaths to steady himself, aided by the warm scent of the campfire. Everything Guy said, he knows already, but it sinks in a little further each time he says any one of those things. "Do you think it's too late to change who I am?"

Guy's eyes flick up to Kakashi's hair, then to his mask. An understanding crosses his face. "Rival, if you no longer require a deterrent to keep you from chewing your hair, then I will certainly support your—"

"Ah, no. The mask stays," Kakashi says firmly, "and if anyone should find out why I started wearing it in the first place, I will have no mercy."

Guy chuckles, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "It suits you. As does the hair."

"Not everyone thinks that. Not that I care for their opinions."

"They don't see the true you."

Kakashi's breath hitches. "You think you do?"

Guy turns to him and thumps his fist against Kakashi's chest. "Though your triumphs and burdens may evolve, your heart—and your place within my own—remain unchanged. It is never too late to change things about yourself, but your essence remains the same."

Kakashi stares into the fire. "I cannot be your woman of destiny."

Guy withdraws his hand and stares at the flames alongside him. "Then tell me who you are."

The words sit heavily on his tongue as tension pulls taut under his skin. There is no doubt that Guy will still see him with the same love and respect, and Kakashi has little to worry about from him, but it is the first time he will truly show someone who he really is. Bringing such a thought out from his head is harder than it should be.

Kakashi fidgets with his mask—a soft one, well worn, as he tends to bring on missions—and takes a couple of deep breaths. The way that Guy remains looking away from him relieves some of the pressure. "Kakashi," he says, voicing the name for the first time outside of his own apartment. "Hatake Kakashi."

"Hatake Kakashi," Guy says slowly, trying out the name. He turns his head towards Kakashi with a grin. "How would you feel about being my man of destiny?"

Kakashi lets go of a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "That has a better ring to it."

"Alright! Hatake Kakashi, my eternal rival, my man of destiny… Copy Ninja Kakashi, Kakashi of the Sharingan, son of Konoha's White Fang…"

Heat pricks at Kakashi's eyes. Guy is too good for him. "Guy," he says before he can get choked up. He puts a hand on Guy's gesticulating arm. "This stays between us for now."

Guy gives him a classic thumbs up. "You have my word, Kakashi."

Iruka stares at the mission report, holding the battered scroll open by one corner as the rest sits open on the desk. "What."

Genma, the only other shinobi on staff during the morning lull, chuckles from two seats down. "Wow."

"There's no blood on it," Kakashi says cheerfully.

"Technically," Guy adds.

"Probably not a biohazard."

"Probably."

"It's… probably not piss?" Iruka says, scrunching his nose up. "Why is it still wet?"

"Serum, from the scent," Kakashi says.

Iruka lets go of the corner. That side of the scroll slowly sinks down to the surface of the desk. "Still blood. Wait, why would you know…"

Kakashi taps his foot impatiently. "The report is complete this time."

"It'll dry out," Guy says, nodding in assurance.

Iruka flings a blank report scroll at Kakashi, who manages to catch it despite his hands being shoved in his pockets a moment before. "Rewrite it."

Kakashi glances at the window, planning his escape. "I'm afraid I have to…"

Genma plucks the senbon from his mouth and points it at Kakashi. "This one's pretty bad, you've gotta admit. Are you really gonna make Iruka handle that shit?"

Kakashi opens his mouth, but Guy places a hand on his shoulder. "They are right, Hatake-san. Although this incident was not in any way our fault, we must claim responsibility and complete the report with as much dignity as it deserves."

Unfortunately, he's right and this time it's definitely unfair to place it on Iruka's plate, no matter how fun it is to watch Iruka get mad. Kakashi heaves an exaggerated sigh. "Just this once," he concedes. He can get it done in ten minutes before it starts to get crowded again; the only others in the room are a team debriefing by the windows. Although he momentarily considers shrugging the responsibility off onto Guy, he's not going to be a dick right after Guy accepted him so warmly.

Guy flashes a grin. "Alright! You've got this, Rival!" he declares, smacking Kakashi on the back and jogging out of the room.

Kakashi takes the wet scroll, drags it to the end of the desk—leaving a smear, but there are towels and disinfectants under the desk for cases like this—and begins to copy the text onto the blank scroll, disregarding Iruka's disapproving gaze.

Kakashi sets down two bowls each of miso soup, rice, and quick-pickled vegetables on Guy's kitchen table. "We're going to the hospital after this, you know." He sits across from Guy and pokes at his own food. Having just gotten up a short while ago, the two of them are both still in their underwear—Kakashi in boxer briefs and a masked undershirt, Guy in only vibrant blue boxers—and it's ultimately not as awkward as he thought it would be to have his ninken around this morning despite the way Pakkun slowly looked between Kakashi and Guy right after the pack was summoned. The pack of beef jerky they're currently devouring may have helped diffuse any awkwardness.

"I'll be fine, I have a sling," Guy says, patting his left arm. The elbow is held in place by a vibrant orange sling that Kakashi is certain Guy dyed himself.

"And if the fracture heals wrong?" Kakashi asks, raising his eyebrows. "At least make sure it's set right. Even I don't leave the hospital without getting fractures and breaks checked out."

"I appreciate your concern, Rival, but…"

"You don't even have to tell them how we figured out it was fractured."

Guy sighs in defeat. "I suppose, since you and the pack are going through so much effort to assist me, that I should accept and pursue treatment. However…" He looks over at the ninken in the living room. "They should know."

"We really don't need to know what you're doing with all your youthful energy," Pakkun says.

Kakashi narrows his eye at Guy. "Is this why you asked for their help?"

Guy flutters his eyelashes innocently. "Whatever do you mean? I can only do so much with one arm restrained."

"You sure that's Guy you've got there, boss?"

"Sacrificing his own ego to manipulate me? Absolutely." Kakashi sets down his spoon and turns to the pack, all of whom are now looking at him expectantly. "So…"

"Are you having puppies?" Guruko asks excitedly, tail wagging so fast that his entire body wiggles with it.

Akino nips Guruko's ear. "Don't make assumptions just because boss has a new mate."

"Guy and I are not romantically involved," he clarifies, face turning red, "and no, I'm not pregnant." Just the thought makes him queasy. He runs a hand through his short hair, an action that the dogs' eyes follow. "I've chosen the name Kakashi for myself. It's been a long time since I was a girl, if I ever truly was, and it's about time I let you all know who I really am."

Guruko runs over, nails clacking against the hardwood floor, and runs a circle around Kakashi. "Kakashi!" he shouts before biting the leg of the chair, unable to contain his excitement.

Kakashi pets Guruko's head, resulting in a level of wagging that puts the chair's integrity at risk. "No one outside this room knows and I'd like to keep it that way. I'm not ready for that." He realizes that he's starting to break and his transition may be inevitable, but there are too many worries and clan policies for him to consider. Could it be enough for only his closest friends to know?

Uhei nods agreeably. "Understood, Kakashi." The other ninken nod along with him.

"You got it, boss," Pakkun says. His eyes hold some concern, but it's not enough for him to voice. He probably realizes the same as Kakashi, that hiding won't be all that healthy for him; he's always been the best at reading Kakashi.

Guy gives the pack a thumbs up. "Thank you for your enduring support!"

"Thank you," Kakashi says quietly, looking from the pack towards Guy. He has enough control to keep his body from shaking, but he can feel the adrenaline from his nerves, and he knows if he had tried to do this on his own, he would have delayed it for weeks, if not months, waffling until he couldn't take it anymore. Having nine friends who know… it's a gift.

Sukea finds Iruka at one of the training grounds and observes quietly, watching until Iruka is finished with his routine. The chunin is strong and has excellent control over his body. If he had the heart for field work, he would be invaluable on missions. Konoha needs a skilled man like him to teach the next generation.

"I really don't think I'm a good candidate for photos right now," Iruka says, wiping the sweat off his face. "Or polite company."

Sukea captures a photo right as Iruka glances over his shoulder. "There is beauty in the mundane, Sensei," he says with a sly smile. He's gotten good at smiling. And flirting.

Iruka fixes his hair tie and walks toward him, worn out but in a good mood, and Sukea shows him a couple of the photos. "Not as bad as I thought I'd look."

"I don't think you're capable of looking bad."

Iruka does a double-take, then laughs. "I've had my share of bad hair days. Come on, if we're gonna hang out, I need to swing by my place and change. Might be a good day to stay in, with the weather."

The sky is clear, but Sukea can feel the change in the wind as well as Iruka. They're both keenly attuned to the weather with their respective lightning and water affinities. The rain should start within the next hour. "That's a good call." He starts to pack away his camera, having little need to take any more photos.

They slowly make their way to Iruka's apartment. Sukea sheds his lightweight green coat along with his shoes at the door, leaving him in a dark blue short-sleeved shirt and gray pants. He catches sight of a battle scar on his arm; it blends in with the rest, but the seal should have caught it. Is he getting sloppy? He needs to check the most recent set of seals he wrote a couple months ago.

"Here's the kitchen and living room, bedroom's that way, and bathroom's to your right. Make yourself at home," Iruka says.

It's the first time Sukea has been here as a welcome guest, rather than Kakashi dropping in to pester Iruka or grab him for a mission. He peruses the bookcase in the living room after setting his bag aside. It holds a fair amount of academic texts alongside one shelf of fiction. The most advanced ones, at the top, include a couple of ninjutsu and chakra theory books amongst a selection of sealing books, most slim. Iruka must either be better than he thought or aspirational. The best sealing experts neither spill all their secrets nor ramble long enough to fill the space, keeping everything cryptic and succinct.

Even the book written by Minato is slim. Sukea plucks it from the shelf and flips through it. Minato only ever published one, its sale restricted within Konoha's walls, and Sukea has one of his own at his apartment. The work is brilliant. He can't execute seals as well as he can ninjutsu, particularly when the components need to be arranged, so it's a challenge that even he can't always achieve.

The pages are annotated, but not in Iruka's handwriting.

"The Third Hokage gave me that one," Iruka says, coming up behind him. The scent of the training ground is drowned out by strawberries and mint.

"I hope I'm not intruding," Sukea says.

"They're there to be read. Although you have picked the most difficult one of the bunch. People call the Fourth Hokage a legend and a genius, but it never truly sank in until I read his work. I'm grateful to hold this much of his legacy. I wish I could have seen him work, even once."

"These aren't for leisure, are they?"

"I'm pretty good at seals," Iruka says, a little bashful.

"Good enough to have the Fourth Hokage's own copy," Sukea observes, showing a heavily annotated page. He takes in Iruka's appearance at the same time: Hair down, wearing a warm gray shirt and dark sweatpants, face clean and the edges of his hair damp after a quick wash. He likes the comfortable look.

"Oh, no, the Third gave it to me, not the Fourth. He wrote down a lot of notes while he was studying, I suppose."

Looking again at the writing, Sukea tries to see the similarity to the Third's penmanship, but he cannot. There's no doubt that it's Minato's, the notes clearly trying to expand on his own work, never satisfied despite his expertise. He's grateful to have his Sharingan open to soak up a few extra nuggets of information left behind by his sensei. "You know, Konoha's library has a section with public handwritten documents, everything from historical letters and cookbooks to original legislation. This handwriting doesn't match the Third's." He closes the book with care and returns it to the shelf. "Are you close to the hokage?"

Iruka looks at the book with a curious expression before looking at Sukea. "He gave me a hand after my parents died during the Kyubi attack; I wasn't even a genin yet, and I didn't have other family in town. He's a mentor to me, I suppose. Have you met him?"

"We've bumped into each other a few times. He even purchased a few of my photos!" Sukea smiles warmly despite his mortification. Ever since Sukea's file was fixed, every other time he goes out in disguise within Konoha, Hiruzen finds him. Most of the time, it's a brief hello. Other times, he genuinely engages with Sukea, keeping up the professional façade while making him feel like a character in a play. It isn't strange for the hokage to interact with civilians, and perhaps it's good practice, but Sukea finds it easier not to slip up when he's around people he doesn't know that well.

Hanging out with Iruka is a risk, particularly with how sharp he is as a sensor, but he doesn't want to let go of this friendship.

"Speaking of which, have you ever had yourself as a subject?"

"I'm not photogenic," Sukea says.

Iruka brings a finger to his lips, thinking, then asks, "Mind if I take a photo of you?" he looks between Sukea and the window. It would be a beautiful setup, to have someone stand there, backed by the strong light before the coming storm as dark clouds sweep in, with a plant or book to round out the portrait.

"I do mind." Sukea crosses his arms and meets Iruka's eyes.

"You're a handsome man…" Iruka starts.

"Don't misunderstand me. This isn't a question of self-esteem. I'm simply not how I wish to be."

"Is this about your scars?" Iruka looks at Sukea's arms, covered in old, even lines, and his gaze lingers too long on the battle scar. "Do you still…?"

"I'm better than I used to be. Don't worry about me, Iruka-sensei."

"Just Iruka is fine." Iruka points towards the box beside the TV. "Pick out a movie and I'll put on some hot chocolate. Unless you've got somewhere to be, that is, but since it's going to rain…"

"Not at all! A movie sounds perfect," Sukea says, once again smiling.

In a reversal of roles, Iruka watches Kakashi at the training grounds shortly after his return from a mission. The winter, though mild, brings a chill that keeps him cool despite the work he's putting in that would otherwise have him sweating profusely. His limbs ache and he can feel every inch of his skin. Every one of his teeth, too, which means he's probably overdone it with the lightning jutsu.

He wraps up his routine, already at the end of his couple-hours-long training. Not as long a session as he needs, but with the way the hokage keeps sending him on missions, he can't overwork himself. "What is it?" he asks calmly, looking over at Iruka, who's leaning against a tree.

"Hatake-san," Iruka says. He keeps his arms crossed and stares at Kakashi's face, clearly attempting to make eye contact, but he does not speak further. Sighing, Kakashi crosses over to him. "You need counseling."

"The mandatory counseling is really just a recommendation."

"No," Iruka says sharply, "you need it. In my personal and professional opinion, it is bullshit that anyone let you go this long without it. I know you're struggling, and I'm not going to let you try to hide behind some kind of excuse and keep taking missions because no one would dare deny the great Hatake Tazu a mission. You need help, and I will drag your sorry ass there myself if I have to."

Iruka is a lot more pissed off than concerned. It all makes Kakashi baffled, on top of stirring his anger from being bossed around. Iruka's been much less friendly to him lately and he's not sure what he did to warrant that. "What in the world are you talking about?"

"Don't pretend you don't know. You may not like me, but if no one else is going to man up and talk to you, then it has to be me," Iruka says sternly.

"You're not doing a very good job at making yourself likeable right now, but I don't dislike you in general."

Iruka snorts. "Yeah, sure you don't."

"I genuinely cannot recall a time I have indicated that I disliked you," Kakashi says.

"For one, you can't wait to get away from me in the mission room."

"I don't like the mission room, Iruka-sensei. That has nothing to do with you."

"So you've said," he says, clearly disbelieving it. "You don't look at me, and that's exactly what you're doing now. What, is this tree more interesting than I am? And then, after years of knowing each other, after years of building a reputation where you don't care for formalities, you ask me to call you Hatake-san. Clearly, I must have done something to tick you off, and I don't know what the hell that is, but I've decided not to apologize for it."

"I don't…" Kakashi starts, but Iruka continues on.

"I've accepted this. What I can't accept is that you're pushing your friends away, too. Even Guy calls you Hatake-san. Guy! The one person you tolerate above the rest! You cut off your hair all of a sudden, you willingly rewrite a report—something I have tried and failed to get you to do so many times—and then you cut your wrists, and you're out here training with dangerous jutsu alone. Do you know what that looks like? And do you know how goddamn frustrating it is to go to the hokage and Guy and hear them both say that you're fine, don't worry, don't do anything about it?"

Putting it all like that, it does look bad, particularly considering he isn't a paragon of mental health. "You're misinterpreting things."

"It's in your eyes, Tazu!" Iruka's voice cracks. "There's something wrong, and I can't stand by while you deal with it yourself. There is a pain there that you cannot handle on your own." He grabs Kakashi's right hand. "And I know I'm not misinterpreting this."

Kakashi lets the use of his given name slide. He slowly pulls back the sleeve on his right arm, showing only an inch of his wrist, thin white lines crossed through by a fresh cut that disappears under his glove towards the meat of his thumb. "You saw this, didn't you?"

"Your sleeve rode up in the mission room. Tazu, I…"

He pulls back his sleeve further, revealing the larger, deeper side of the wound, extending halfway down his forearm and curving around towards the outer side of his arm. It remains dark and stitched up, the edges sore but not inflamed. There should be no mistaking it for anything but a battle wound.

Iruka inhales sharply. "That… looks painful."

"It's not self-inflicted."

"I'm sorry," Iruka says sincerely. "I made an assumption, and I apologize for that."

Kakashi shoves his hands in his pockets. "It's been more than a year since the last time." He ought to leave Iruka to stew and figure things out himself, but he's got a soft spot for him as a sort-of-sometimes friend. He can throw him a bone. "Have you ever considered that I might not make eye contact with anyone, or that I might not stay in any crowded place a moment longer than I need to?"

"You're a jonin. You're capable," Iruka says cautiously.

"I'm capable of withstanding torture. That doesn't make it easy or comfortable," he points out. "You're good at identifying when children have needs or quirks that set them apart from their peers, but you cannot forget that those children grow into adults. If I were a child who walked into your classroom, you would assume I was autistic based on the same traits that you find off-putting as an adult."

"Are you? Autistic, I mean?"

Kakashi shrugs and looks up at the clouds. "It fits."

"Okay," he says slowly, "that makes sense, but it doesn't explain…"

"…why a beautiful woman would cut her hair or stop using her name?"

Iruka opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again with a flash of defiance. "I should have asked before making assumptions, but I won't apologize for the concern. Any unusual behavior from a jonin with a record like yours would make me worried."

"I appreciate that you care. Not a lot of people would step in like that. But I'm okay, Iruka. Really."

When it's clear that there isn't going to be an argument, Iruka relaxes. "Will you do me one favor, Hatake-san?" Kakashi raises his eyebrow, listening. "Attend the counseling. Just once, just a short session." He glances at Kakashi's arm. "You've alleviated most of my worries, but you've still gone through a lot."

"There are two types of counselors: Those who determine if we're fit for duty, and those who help us. At the mission desk, your referral is for the former. I am not a risk to myself or others and I am capable of fulfilling my duty, so it's pointless. As someone who cares, you want me to see the latter, but they don't get me. They see my differences as problems to be fixed, and frankly, they don't know what to do with anyone who's been in ANBU." He puts his hand on Iruka's shoulder. "I'm already taking steps to improve my life and mental health. I don't need a professional to figure that one out. Bear with me for a while, alright?"

Iruka sighs and looks away. "I've really messed this up, haven't I?"

"Well, we got here in the end. Hopefully you can put aside the idea that I dislike you. You're very likeable when you're not lecturing me."

"You don't have to flatter me."

"Could we be friends?"

Iruka blinks at him. "You want to be friends?"

"If you're willing to stop judging me for my differences, that is."

Iruka winces and then takes a deep breath. "Yeah, that… That's fine. I'm—"

"You already apologized."

"—still sorry," Iruka says, "but yeah, I'd like to be friends."

Kakashi claps him on the shoulder. "Then if you don't have any other plans, let's grab dinner."

Year 4

"Am I doing something wrong?" Iruka asks, staring out at the sun setting over the village from atop the Hokage Monument. "This year's teams… half of them failed to make it. They may not be my homeroom, but I still taught some of their classes, so I'm responsible as one of their teachers."

"Did you teach them to throw tantrums when they lose?" Kakashi asks.

Iruka's eyebrows shoot up. "They didn't," he says disbelievingly.

"One of them singed a teammate with a fireball and almost injured the other with an exploding tag. As far as raw power and chakra control go, he's skilled, but none of them are prepared for real missions."

"That's… definitely something he shouldn't have done."

Kakashi sighs. "Teamwork's in the curriculum already. It's a matter of who takes it to heart and who treats it as a mere academic lesson."

"You're getting a reputation, you know. Four years and not a single team got through. D-ranks can build teamwork."

"Not as much as getting stuck doing a remedial year together."

Iruka sighs dramatically. "Don't I know it. Sometimes they band together specifically to make our lives hell. You'll get that joy when you finally have a team of your own. Think next year will the the year?"

"If you give them a group project, you should get a good idea how it will go."

"Who? The teams aren't decided yet."

"I have a Sharingan and I am one of very few shinobi in the village familiar with jinchuuriki seals. I'd be surprised if Sasuke and Naruto weren't both placed on my team. Not that I'll go easy on them." He might give them an extra chance that he hasn't offered the other teams, at least, but he will stand his ground on the matter of requiring some level of teamwork in order to pass.

Iruka nods. "I guess it makes sense. Sasuke, I figured that one already. Naruto… He's got it hard, but you see him. You made me see him. And he's…" Iruka pats the stone beneath them.

"Yeah," Kakashi says. "There's something I should tell you, Iruka."

"Is it about the students?"

"I've started taking a new medication. It may impact my voice and appearance. I want you to know that it's nothing to worry about and I'm doing okay," Kakashi says. It's easy to get testosterone as a jonin as long as he submits to a blood test; when it comes to non-lethal medications, rank carries a lot of weight, and many take far more questionable medications than he does. He realized he had to make the choice when he started considering a voice modification seal full-time. Whatever it does to his chakra or emotional stability, he will have to accept, and he's already apologized at his father's grave many times for steering so far away from being a clan kunoichi.

"I'm more concerned about why you have to take a medication with such side effects," Iruka says.

"I'm afraid that's too personal to share, but I can assure you that it isn't that bad."

Iruka frowns, but nods in acceptance. "Alright. Thanks for telling me, Hatake-san. And for coming up here with me. It always gets to me when the kids don't make it, even when I know it's for the better."

"That's what makes you a good teacher."

"And then there were three," Kurenai says over tea and dango.

"As if we could shake Guy for long. We'll face his enthusiasm again the second he catches a break," Asuma says. "How are you doing, Hatake-san?"

Kakashi shrugs. "I beat up a kid who burnt his teammates and called me a bitch. It was kind of satisfying."

Asuma groans. "That is not gonna help your reputation."

"Since when have I cared about that?"

"We care."

"We were kind of hoping you'd have a team by now," Kurenai says.

"You were kind of hoping I'd have a team three years ago," Kakashi says.

"Well, yeah, that was your first go at it, so…" Asuma says.

"Mm, don't play coy. You thought a team would fix me, and when that fell through, you thought a relationship would fix me. I can't believe I fell for that, by the way."

"I didn't mean to…" Asuma starts apologetically.

"It was the shirt," Kurenai says, nodding solemnly.

Asuma squints at her. "The shirt?"

"The shirt," Kakashi says with a wistful sigh. Asuma owns exactly one shirt that is sinfully tight, and Kakashi is not immune. Kurenai probably got him to wear it before he asked Kakashi out. He takes pity on Asuma and says, "The relationship was a fun diversion. It just wasn't what I needed."

"You're doing a lot better than you used to," Kurenai says. "Did you figure out what you needed?"

"Enough to pick myself up," Kakashi says. He raises his cup. "Which is much easier with the help of friends."

Kurenai and Asuma tap their cups against his with matching smiles.

Iruka splits a popsicle, handing one half to Sukea as they walk down the street. "So you visit this village often?"

"I usually stop for the night when traveling through the area. It's so much more civilian than Konoha, not at all what I'm used to," Sukea says. He really does enjoy this small village's atmosphere and the way it seems so free from the troubles of the shinobi world despite being only half a day away from Konoha. In the warm sun, with a nearby lake visible from the village entrance, it feels like the perfect quiet summer destination. "Do you ever get that feeling? That these places are so quaint and vulnerable?"

"They feel safer, sometimes. Every now and then I see something at home that reminds me of the Kyubi's destruction, like old damage that was painted over or never truly repaired, but places like this don't hold those memories."

There are too many houses in Konoha that hold ghosts. "Is that something you think of often?"

"Not as much as I used to, thankfully. It's easy for me to see the good in the village these days," Iruka says, smiling.

Sukea smiles back, then looks out past the village gates towards the shining lake. "We should go for a swim."

Iruka pats his flak jacket, a contrast to Sukea's bright and flowy long-sleeved shirt. "Unfortunately, I don't have that much time since I'm here on business. I don't have my swimsuit, anyway."

"Neither do I," Sukea says with a wink as he licks his popsicle.

That draws a laugh from Iruka. "I've got enough time for a walk down there, but I'd rather not get caught running back to Konoha after dark."

"You could stay and take a break for once."

"And give everyone else at the mission desk a reason to pick on me? No, thank you." Iruka looks around at the pleasant scenery outside of the village, more grassy fields than woods. "Where are you headed, anyway? Or were you on your way back to Konoha?"

"I'm returning from a short vacation at the onsen the next town over. One of my friends recently picked up more responsibilities, so I've found myself with more time on my hands for things like this." His mandatory breaks after strenuous missions are more boring now that Guy has a genin team (all of whom find it strange and suspicious when Kakashi lurks to observe). His outings as Sukea have become more frequent as well. Sukea never receives the stares, or the murmurs wondering whether he's a man or a woman, and it's easy for him to get along with people.

"I'd offer to return with you, but we might not run at the same pace."

"You could always carry me."

"No, no, you enjoy your travels without getting hauled around by a shinobi," Iruka says. "Not that I'd dislike it—I mean, it's you, and you're, well…"

Sukea slowly raises his eyebrows, licking the melting remains of his popsicle.

Iruka's eyes follow his tongue. "…easy to get along with."

"Is that all?" Sukea knows he's playing with fire. There's no way this continues any further than teasing—he won't let it, not when in disguise with a friend—and flirting alone could make their relationship outside of disguise much more awkward. But it's fun and he really likes the way Iruka's watching him.

"Handsome, as well," Iruka admits after a pause. He leans towards Sukea. "And I think that, maybe…"

Iruka grabs the front of Sukea's shirt and drags him down, barely avoiding the pair of shuriken above their heads. Iruka immediately steps in front of him protectively with a kunai in his hand, staring at the aggressor.

The man is tall, wearing a black jacket with chain mail beneath. His Konoha headband, which holds back his scruffy black hair, bears a gash through the emblem. Sukea recognizes him right away: Okukita Kori, Konoha's ANBU Swan. Five years ago, he went missing after a mission and was presumed dead.

"What do you want?" Iruka shouts, holding a steady stance. Years of working as a teacher haven't dulled his confidence in a real conflict.

"I need cash. You've got a bounty." Kori points a kunai towards Iruka. "Why don't you come along with me nicely and I'll leave the civilian alone? I'll keep you alive. Bounty's bigger that way."

"If you want to get out of here alive, I suggest you leave now," Iruka says coldly.

"He's dangerous," Sukea whispers. ANBU Swan is in various bingo books as an A-rank or S-rank target. The way that he snuck up on a sensor and a jonin is evidence of that.

"I've got you," Iruka responds quietly.

"I'm not opposed to doing this the hard way." Kori shunshins towards them, his kunai clashing against Iruka's. The two of them exchange blows, Iruka making sure to keep himself between Kori and Sukea, and Iruka does an impressive job of holding him off.

What Iruka doesn't see is the lightning-fast, single-handed seals that Kori works through, summoning an orb of white-hot fire to his hand.

Sukea dives in and yanks Iruka off to the side as hard as he can. It throws Kori off balance and the fire fizzles out. He continues to drag Iruka out of point blank range, then stands in front of Iruka and raises his own kunai. Even in disguise, he's never entirely unarmed. "I won't let you hurt him."

Iruka moves out from behind him, standing at his side instead. "Sukea," he says, voice hard and low, "he's out of your league."

"What do you know of my league?"

Kori takes the opportunity to rebalance and reconsider, flexing his hands and pacing before them. "I guess your civilian's got a death wish."

Quietly, without taking his eyes off of Kori, Iruka says, "You're utilizing seals to hold a transformation. You alter your chakra signature and conceal it by making it seem low, something that gets exponentially harder the more chakra you have. An experienced shinobi would be able to maintain a transformation without seals, and all but the best would struggle to hide their typically larger chakra reserves. You haven't developed a large chakra pool, and whoever writes your seals is good, but sometimes misses details."

Kori charges. He aims for Sukea, but Iruka defends him, leading them to spar again. Sukea holds his own when Kori shifts his attention, but neither of them are prepared when Kori performs another one-handed jutsu—just out of Sukea's sight—and sends flaming bullets towards both of them.

Sukea moves to counter with a water jutsu, but Iruka tackles him, covering him as they both land on the ground. Iruka winces, but quickly pulls him up and the two of them retreat a few yards. Smoke rises from Iruka's back. Thankfully, most of it hit his flak jacket, but there may be a couple nasty burns under Iruka's clothes. "You're a genin," Iruka concludes, "and this guy outclasses both of us. If you run, I can hold him off and ensure that at least you will get out of here alive."

"I've got a better idea: Back me up." Sukea throws his kunai at the ground, point first, and runs towards Kori, strafing to the left and forming hand signs. Kori's already prepared with a fireball jutsu, and when the fire races towards him, Iruka shouts for him. Sukea drops to the ground and executes his earth jutsu, spikes of hard earth jutting out of the ground straight towards Kori.

A flash of fire catches Sukea's left arm, burning part of his sleeve and the skin beneath. Kori doesn't escape unscathed either, one sharp point catching his thigh, but not enough to hinder his mobility. "So he's got something to him!" Kori says with a laugh. He doesn't allow Sukea any time to rest, moving right into another, more complex fire jutsu: fire senbon.

Lying flat on the ground is a really bad spot to be in. He rolls onto his back, runs through the hand signs for a water umbrella—a fountain that falls into a thick curtain of water—and launches the jutsu just in time and with just enough force to halt the projectiles. The moment he has a chance, he shoves a kunai in the ground, gets up, and runs through the resulting steam a few feet away from Kori.

A second Kori emerges from the ground right behind him and stabs between his ribs.

Sukea shoves a kunai over his shoulder, stabbing the clone in the face and dispelling it, but the damage is done. Pain sears through him despite the adrenaline and he feels the dampness of blood against his skin, soaking his shirt and binder. If only he had worn his chain mail…

He staggers and throws his kunai tip-first into the ground, then starts forming hand signs.

The real Kori pushes Iruka back with a threatening fire jutsu, then looks back at Sukea. "Can't even hold a kunai. Pity. He's got some impressive jutsu." Kori throws two shuriken towards him, which will surely hit him if he stays in place. Iruka watches in horror and sprints forward.

The shuriken sizzle as they hit the electric barrier and fall to the ground.

Sukea holds his breath, grateful to have completed his jutsu in time. Half a second longer and those shuriken would have reached him.

The three kunai that he placed on the ground form a wide triangle around Kori, acting as anchors for the barrier. While standard kunai conductivity is very poor compared to chakra blades, it's not impossible as long as one has a fair amount of chakra and extremely precise control. The purple lightning barrier hums steadily, its pyramid shape preventing Kori from exiting without severe damage. Even an earth jutsu wouldn't save him; an inverted pyramid lies beneath the ground. He's trapped unless he can disturb Sukea's focus or forcefully dislodge the kunai.

Kori stares at the barrier, then at Sukea, likely reevaluating the threat he poses. "Barrier or not, I can still kill you." He starts forming hand signs, glancing between Sukea and Iruka, working as fast as he can on what must be a powerful jutsu.

Iruka slows his pace, pulls a scroll from one of the pockets on his jacket, and gives Sukea a meaningful look before turning his head to look at Kori. He bites his thumb and smears blood on the scroll. When Iruka's two seconds away from the barrier, Sukea shouts, "Summoning!" to grab Kori's attention—which works, thank goodness—and releases the barrier.

Kori backs up a few paces and Iruka slams the scroll against Kori's cheek. The seal transfers, writing itself onto skin, and Kakashi tracks the quick-moving details with his Sharingan. A chakra suppression seal: a true one, not one like he uses to merely hide his chakra, but one that will prevent its use.

Kori finishes his hand seals and blows air from his mouth, but his eyes widen and he chokes on his own fire jutsu. Trying to use that much chakra while it's suppressed hurts like hell. It doesn't do much to stop him, however, as Kori unsheathes a tanto and slices across Iruka's chest. The chunin has just enough reaction time to stumble backwards, the blade slicing his jacket but not his flesh.

Sukea moves, catching Kori's attention, and makes eye contact with him. Seconds later, Kori falls limp.

Iruka, breathing heavily, tries to catch his breath as he stares at Kori. "What…?"

"Genjutsu," Sukea says, leaning with his hands on his knees. "He should be out for however long your seal lasts. He won't be able to disrupt…" His knees buckle and he grunts as he lands on the ground, kneeling. "Okukita Kori. The hokage will want him alive."

"The hokage will want you alive." Iruka rushes over and kneels beside him, moving up the end of his shirt to see what's beneath. "Oh, that's… That's really not good. I can't tell all that well with your undershirt, but it's… no, that's not good. We have to get you to a hospital."

"This place only has one doctor. Just wrap it."

"Just—Sukea, this is bad."

"Then help me cauterize it."

Iruka takes a few deep breaths. He checks Sukea's front, then has him lean forward while sitting. "There's no exit wound. If no major organs were hit, we can get you home." His hands are shaky as he works, lifting up Sukea's shirt, then getting something from his pack. When cool metal meets the skin of his back at the end of his binder, Sukea grimaces.

Iruka cuts the fabric.

Treating the wound is a priority. Although he knows this, his stomach sinks as the tightness around his chest relaxes. "Iruka…"

"I'm sorry, Sukea, but whoever you are, whatever secrets you hide, I don't care. Right now, I'm keeping you alive." He pulls off the remains of the binder, then pulls out some materials, likely from a first aid kit.

Sukea lifts a hand to the base of his neck, then just beneath, where the seal sits on his skin. "Remove the second layer." Iruka's an expert; he'll see that it's the one hiding Sukea's battle scars, and he'll be able to do the delicate work of removing that part of the seal.

Iruka moves Sukea's hand away, taking a look on his own. He presses three fingers against Sukea's skin, chakra burning at their tips as they dig into him, and ten seconds later, the pressure is gone. All of his scars are visible now, which will avoid complicating things when he gets to the hospital. Iruka presses against another part of the seal and Sukea makes a strained sound. "Let me focus," Iruka says, and Sukea stills himself, bracing for more of his transformation to fall away.

The change is like a fizz across the surface of his skin. The depth of his chakra is no longer hidden. Admittedly, that's best for medical work, but it's the same part of the seal that cloaks exactly what his chakra feels like.

He blinks slowly. His chakra still feels like Sukea. "How'd you do that?"

"Like I said, I'm good at seals." Iruka presses fingers to either side of his wound, and that hurts, but then it feels like he's physically pulling the wound closed, and that's ten times worse. Sukea manages to tamp down most of his pain response. "This is a seal that will break once chakra is applied to the wound. It's like a butterfly bandage, but stronger. Quicker than stitches." The pain eases when Iruka moves his fingers away. He applies gauze to the wound, then wraps it tightly, doing his best not to touch Sukea's chest as he does so. "Are you on a mission?"

"Off duty." Sukea's voice is starting to slur.

"Have you left anything critical or confidential in town?"

Sukea shakes his head. It feels heavy. He can come back for his stuff later.

"I'm going to send a message ahead so someone can bring this guy in. Stay with me, alright, Sukea?"

"Not going anywhere," he reassures Iruka as his eyes fall closed.

Sukea wakes to the sterile smell of the hospital.

He wrinkles his nose, realizes his face is uncovered, and moves the sheet to cover his face. Or tries to, at least. His heavy hand doesn't cooperate, smacking himself in the chest and then the nose without moving the sheet at all.

"Are you awake, Sukea-san?" asks a familiar nurse's voice.

Blearily, he blinks open his right eye to see the harsh white of a hospital room. His head feels like cotton. "Fuya-san," he mumbles. She's fifteen years older than him and they became far more closely acquainted than he would like while he was in ANBU, considering how much he would prefer to avoid the hospital.

"Awake and cognizant. That's a good sign. Do you know where you are?"

He furrows his eyebrows. "Did I have a mission? Did I fail?"

She tuts. "You're a civilian, Sukea-san. You don't take missions, alright?"

"Mm." That's right; he was on leave for a week and spent it on his own. That is, until Iruka showed up, and he flirted with Iruka until… "Oh. I got stabbed."

"Do you know where you are, Sukea-san?"

Someone must have put him in Fuya's care after seeing his tattoo. "Konoha Hospital." He clumsily touches his hair, shoving some of it in front of his face. It's brown, so his disguise is still in effect, although he belatedly realizes that he could have recognized that much from the way his chakra feels and the sound of his voice. "Sukea. Civilian. Yeah." He lets his hand drop. "How long?"

"You've only been here for a couple of hours. Iruka-sensei kept you alive and brought you here, so I don't know how long that took, but he got you here with more than enough time to spare. Long story short, we fixed you up, but you need to take it easy as your body does the rest of the work."

"He okay?"

She chuckles. "Yeah, he's fine. Do you want him to come and see you?"

"Want to go home," he says. It sounds pathetic, particularly with the pain medication making everything fuzzy. "Yes. Iruka."

"Alright, darling. We'll bring him back in a couple minutes." Fuya gives him a once-over and takes a few notes, then steps out of the room.

Despite the heaviness from the painkillers, Sukea opens both of his eyes, knowing what a red flag it will be if he keeps the left one closed. After what seems like only half a minute, Fuya returns, letting Iruka into the room and giving them a moment. "You're okay," Iruka says, a relieved smile on his face beneath his red eyes, as he stops beside the hospital bed.

Sukea waves a hand dismissively. It doesn't quite follow his instructions, but it's good enough. "I've had worse."

"That really isn't reassuring."

Sukea chuckles. "A genin."

It takes Iruka a moment to figure out what he means. "Yeah, well, the options were genin with a bit of help or exceptionally skilled jonin, and there was a much higher chance of one than the other, but I failed to account for the eccentricity of jonin." He brushes his hair back in a motion that looks like he's done it a hundred times in the past hour. "At least, I assume you're a jonin. I've never met anyone below that level who could easily use three elements, but I also don't know how much ANBU cares about those ranks, so..."

Sukea takes stock of himself, his brain still slowly waking up and foggy with medication. He's only wearing a hospital gown, and while that has short sleeves, he recalls his left sleeve getting burnt off and Iruka removing parts of his seal. The tattoo on his left shoulder would have been obvious even before he got to the hospital. He glances at the clock; it's almost midnight. "My disguise won't hold much longer," he says quietly.

Iruka reaches out to the base of Sukea's neck, a gesture which feels very intimate, and presses a hand to the seal, gently infusing it with a lot more chakra than he needs to. "This should give it another twelve hours or so. They said you can be discharged tomorrow as long as you have someone to look out for you. Is there anyone I can notify who can help you out?"

Sukea would normally smile and say that of course, he has plenty of friends, but he's tired and in pain, and it would be a lie. Guy is busy with his new team, Asuma and Kurenai are on missions, and the only person who would really have the availability to help him out is Iruka. He shakes his head slowly. "There's only you."

"Then I'll help."

Sukea continues shaking his head. "I can stay here."

"Is that code for you're going to sneak out the window and try to handle things yourself? I've known a few jonin and not a single one would sit still if they could walk," Iruka says. "We're friends. Unless the hokage himself calls on me for a life-or-death situation, I'll be there to help you, and I'll keep up your seals for as long as you need."

"But I'm not really Sukea," he mumbles.

"Like I said, I don't care. I figured it out a while back. That Sukea was a disguise, I mean, not whatever your true identity is. The best undercover identities are well established, so I didn't say anything in case it would blow your cover. It might not be entirely you, but not everything about Sukea is a lie, is it?"

It's the knowledge that Iruka would do the same for Kakashi out of disguise that leads him to relent. "Sukea's a normal guy. An ideal. For the most part." He lifts his wrist a couple of inches, turning it to show Iruka the scars. "But like this, I can't keep the disguise going for long."

Iruka takes his hand and squeezes it comfortingly. "Then don't."

Late the next morning, they slowly make their way up to the top floor of Kakashi's apartment complex. Kakashi—still disguised as Sukea—picks the lock to his own apartment because his keys are in his bag half a day away, then pulses chakra through the alarm wards to temporarily disable them. His apartment is bare enough that it doesn't show any identifying features, but it's clearly lived in with the books, notes, gear kits, and trinkets scattered about.

"Help yourself to anything, but I only have tea and protein bars. I'm going to change," he declares, ambling over to the bedroom and shutting the door behind him. His back aches badly after climbing up so many flights of stairs despite the painkillers and he feels about ready to collapse, but the white shirt the hospital provided him has scratchy stitching along the collar and his contacts are irritating his eyes, and he needs them all off. He's at his limit and needs comfort before he can rest—and he definitely needs rest after a nearly sleepless night on an awful hospital bed.

Once the contacts are out, his makeup is washed from his face, he's wearing his softest undershirt, and his left eye is closed, he finally feels like he can breathe. The shirt does no favors for his chest, but he can't comfortably wear a binder and a bra would just make him feel worse, so he resigns himself to feeling underdressed. It's his own home and he just got stabbed, he reminds himself. Iruka doesn't expect him to look presentable.

Kakashi emerges from the bedroom and sits on the couch, leaning forward with his arms on his knees to relieve the pressure on his back, facing away from the kitchen. He leaves down the mask, feeling exposed in his own apartment since someone else is here, but Iruka has seen his face unmasked plenty of times now and the windows are tinted with a seal that obscures what's inside.

"Does anyone else live here?" Iruka asks from the kitchen.

"Just me."

"Alright, well, your fridge has way more than tea and protein bars, and some of this stuff was definitely bought this morning. You must have a friend who found out you were in the hospital. I assume some people know your alias?"

"Is there a lime soda in the fridge?"

"Yeah, do you want it?"

"No, leave it." Inevitably, Guy will invite himself to Kakashi's place, then act delightedly surprised that his rival stocked his favorite drink, especially since Kakashi himself never drinks soda. Kakashi has restocked Guy's place plenty of times in turn, slinking in to offer company while Guy recovers and claiming the can of iced coffee that's always in the fridge door.

It's not a surprise that Guy figured out that Sukea is Kakashi, but he has no idea when that happened.

"I'll cook lunch. I'm sure you're starving. Any preferences?"

"Could you break the rest of the seal?" Kakashi asks.

Iruka pauses and sets something down onto the counter. "That would break your disguise."

"There's not much point in maintaining a disguise in my own home."

Iruka walks over, standing behind the couch and placing his hand on the back of Kakashi's neck. "The choice is yours."

The choice has always been in his hands. He's just never been brave enough to take it. "Do it."

Iruka digs into the seal once more. It's uncomfortable, but it would be difficult for Kakashi to do on his own, between the seal already having been tampered with and the medication that he's on. It releases a soft snap of energy as it breaks, and he can feel the change in his chakra and the weight of his hair. Sukea is entirely gone.

"Oh," Iruka says softly.

Kakashi pulls his mask up to cover his face, deciding he would like to have its comfort even though he trusts Iruka. "If you change your mind…" he starts. His voice is not as masculine as Sukea's, but the timbre has changed in the past couple of months of testosterone therapy and it's starting to feel like his own.

"Not a chance, Hatake-san. I'm staying."

Kakashi finally turns to look at him. "Call me Kakashi."

"Kakashi." Iruka's expression turns thoughtful. "So you are a man?"

"The longer I keep hiding it, the more I wonder what good that does. I feel so much more free when I can live as a man. Would it be so bad to just be myself?" He sighs. " I hope you can forgive me for leading you to think that I was two separate individuals."

"I'm honored to have earned your friendship twice over."

Kakashi's eye widens. "I… don't know how to respond to that."

Iruka smiles softly. "Don't," he says. "Just let me make lunch for the man who saved my life."

A deep ache in Kakashi's back wakes him in the evening. He shifts, turning onto his front and wrapping his arms and legs around the covers for leverage, relieving some of the pressure. It won't last long; if he doesn't take pain medication in the next few minutes, he's going to regret it.

"You're awake?" his bedsheets ask groggily.

Maybe he's not awake and everything that happened yesterday up until now was all a dream. "No," he decides, keeping his eyes closed.

"Mkay. You in pain?"

"I'm not thinking about it," he mumbles.

"Let me get your medication."

He holds on tighter to the warm sheets. "No," he says, voice muffled by fabric.

"As cozy as this is, you need your medication."

Kakashi cracks an eye open to see Iruka's face peeking out from the covers, mere inches from his own. "You're in my bed."

"So I am."

"I invited you," Kakashi recalls, though the memory is vague. Iruka still looks exhausted and Kakashi wonders if he slept in the hospital, too, after dragging his ass all the way to Konoha. He pulls his mask up, which causes Iruka to frown. "The mask is soft," he explains.

Realization crosses Iruka's face. "Is that why you wear it?"

"Now, Sensei, I didn't expect you to question the fact that I wear clothes. If you'd rather I didn't…"

"I am trying to understand you better," Iruka huffs, more amused than frustrated. He untangles himself from Kakashi's limbs and the covers, half-stumbling out of bed before righting himself. His hair is a total disaster and his clothes—a spare shirt and flannel pants from Kakashi's closet—are wrinkled and askew.

Kakashi runs his fingers across the rumpled bedding. Even through the mask, his bed smells of Iruka. "I'm not entirely certain that I understand myself all that well."

"Is it because of your gender? Not that I doubt your confidence in your gender," Iruka adds hastily, "but it can be hard to figure out how you fit in when you're queer."

"Something you have experience with?"

"I'm gay. I had a hard time of it for a while. Sit up; I'll be right back." Iruka exits the room.

Kakashi agonizingly pushes himself to sit up. While the worst of the injury was healed through medical ninjutsu, much of it has been left for his body to recover naturally and he's going to be sore for at least a couple of weeks. It throbs with pain, although it lacks the fiery bite of an infection.

Iruka returns with a glass of water, handing that to Kakashi along with two pills. He looks at Kakashi pitifully. "You look a lot rougher sitting up."

Kakashi takes the pills and drinks the whole glass, not bothering with his usual tricks to hide his face, then sets the glass beside the bed and ignoring the twinge as he does so. It will take a little while for the medication to kick in. "I know who I am when I'm Sukea, or Tazu, or wearing the ANBU mask, for the most part. Every one of them is an act put on for others to perceive. When I strip those away, what is left behind? Who am I when I'm not twisting myself into a shape that others want to see?"

Iruka sits beside him on the bed. Kakashi leans on him, which alleviates some of the pain. "I'm not sure I understand. You're just Kakashi. You are who you are, and you can be who you want to be."

"It isn't that easy," Kakashi says, "but if you want to understand me, then I want you to try."

"What are friends for?"

"My best point of reference is Guy, so…"

"Who provides his unconditional acceptance and support, right?"

"If you start issuing challenges…"

Iruka snorts. "I'm not in a hurry to have my ass handed to me."

"If you wanted my hand on your ass, why didn't you say so sooner?"

That gets a laugh out of Iruka. "You are terrible."

"Am I wrong?"

"You're crude! Inviting me to go skinny dipping, that thing with the popsicle…"

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about," Kakashi says. "I do, however, recall you calling me handsome, which was very direct of you, Sensei."

"It got me into bed with you."

Kakashi looks directly at Iruka's face, keeping his gaze just beneath his eyes. "Fully clothed," he says disapprovingly, plucking at Iruka's shirt.

To his disbelief, Iruka removes his shirt in one fluid motion and flicks it off the bed. The movement doesn't even disturb Kakashi leaning on him, which is rather impressive. "I suppose this is more comfortable," Iruka says nonchalantly.

Kakashi drops his gaze and stares. "Hey, Iruka?"

"Yeah?" Iruka asks, nervousness edging away his confidence.

"Kiss me."

Iruka breathes a sigh of relief and smiles giddily. He leans in, adjusting his angle so that Kakashi doesn't have to move at all, and presses his lips against Kakashi's for a gentle kiss. Kakashi pulls down his mask to feel Iruka's lips directly against his. They're soft and slightly chapped, a little sweet, and it's the nicest, gentlest kiss Kakashi has ever had.

Iruka keeps his forehead against Kakashi's when they part. The closeness is precious. "Kakashi," he says quietly, "are you alright?" He swipes his thumb across Kakashi's left cheek and Kakashi realizes he's crying from his closed left eye.

"I'm happy," he whispers. He's smiling a natural smile, not like the ones Sukea does. "I'm not very good at facial expressions."

"I don't mind. I've gotten pretty good at reading you." Iruka kisses him again. "Do you need anything before I make dinner?"

Kakashi licks his lips. "There's an apron in the drawer with the kitchen towels."

"I should wear one of those, shouldn't I?"

Kakashi puts a hand on Iruka's waist. "If you prefer, you don't even have to wear…"

Iruka presses a finger against Kakashi's lips before he can finish. "How about you focus on getting yourself out of bed?"

Kakashi pouts. That's one expression he is good at. "If I must." Iruka kisses his forehead and climbs out of bed. Before he can leave the room, Kakashi says, "Thank you for saving my life and for acting so normal about this."

"I've got your back, Kakashi. Always," Iruka says, smiling brightly.

Kakashi reads his book while standing in line in the mission room. While he hoped to arrive early enough to beat the crowd, that's not the case; every other jonin and chunin seems to be here as well. At least they're relatively quiet with the early hour. Few look at him, which is just as well, considering how exposed he feels wearing a binder out in public for the first time as himself.

"I see you are in fine spirits today, Rival!" Guy says, crossing the room to stand by his side. It would technically be considered cutting in line, but anyone capable of handling A-ranks never gets shit for it as long as they're picking up a high-rank mission. The ones who poach easy B-ranks don't get off so easily. "Back on your feet so soon—I would expect nothing less!"

"I can't lie around forever," Kakashi says. He glances at the desk, where Iruka is speaking with another shinobi who's turning in their mission. Iruka looks happier than he did last time Kakashi saw him working the desk.

"What happened, anyway, Hatake-san?" Asuma asks from the next line over. "Rumor has it you got stabbed."

"No need to be so formal, Asuma. Just Kakashi is fine," Kakashi says, as if he isn't the one who insisted that everyone call him Hatake-san in the first place.

Asuma blinks at him. "Kakashi?"

Standing beside Asuma, Kurenai's eyes widen. "Kakashi," she murmurs.

"That is his name, of course," Guy says, crossing his arms and nodding. He flashes Kakashi a grin, no doubt pleased that he's finally coming out.

"His name?" Asuma asks slowly.

"Are you hearing everything alright, Asuma?" Kakashi asks, not looking up from his book.

"Just fine… Kakashi," Asuma says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Did you, though? Get stabbed?"

"It's quite intimate to ask about what other men put into my body. And a few years too late for you to care, I'm afraid."

Asuma reaches for the cigarette box in his pocket, then thinks better of it when Kurenai gives him a look. "I didn't even hear about you getting hospitalized, but I suppose you'd say something about me asking what beds you've been in, or something like that. You are unbelievable."

"You came up with that one yourself." Kakashi shuts his book just in time to hear Iruka calling his name. "The better question would be, who's been sleeping in my—"

"Kakashi!" Iruka repeats, face turning red. He waves a mission scroll in the air.

Kakashi looks at Asuma and Kurenai and shrugs, bringing his hands up as part of the gesture, as if to ask, "What did I do wrong?" then saunters over to the desk.

Iruka hands him a C-rank.

"Iruka, this is…"

"Even if the Third Hokage will turn a blind eye and let you pick up missions, you haven't been cleared by the hospital. This is the compromise."

Kakashi looks at the higher-rank mission scrolls. There aren't enough to warrant much complaint from him. He reviews the C-rank details, and admittedly, it's not the sort that will leave him completely bored. He snaps it closed. "Guess I'll see you in a few days, then."

"Take care, Kakashi," Iruka says with a fond smile.

"You're a lot like your father," Shikaku says an hour into drinking. A disorganized assortment of cups and bottles decorates the top of the low table, shared between him, Choza, Inoichi, and Kakashi, the last ones remaining after everyone else has gone home, still in their clan formalwear. They're all well relaxed by now and Kakashi has even given up on his mask; the three of them, as teenagers, babysat him before he ever started wearing one. He probably ran around this house at least once as a toddler, the main Nara clan residence almost as familiar as the house he once had.

Amongst a gathering of shinobi who had known his father, this is the first time anyone has mentioned him in an informal manner all day. It doesn't hurt to think about him as much as he feared it would. "I hardly remember him," Kakashi admits. "I've been wondering for so long what he would think, afraid to change anything about the clan for fear that it would tarnish his legacy, because I know so little about him and what he thought. Even if it's just me…" He shakes his head. "Whether he would approve or not, I have to do what I feel is right."

Choza pats him on the back. "That's exactly what makes you your father's son!"

"He would be proud of you for following your heart," Inoichi adds.

"Even if you didn't get the chance to talk philosophy or understand his tactical mind, you knew him as a son knows his father. He loved you and instilled in you his strength and values. That's a side of him that the rest of us could never know as well as you did," Shikaku says. "From the side of him that we did see? Sakumo would have done everything in his power to make sure you were happy and safe, and he'd be damn proud of you for stepping into the role of clan head. He understood the importance of letting the next generation guide our path to the future."

Choza nods sagely. "He would have done the same in your shoes."

"How are you feeling now that it's official?" Inoichi asks.

Kakashi wipes away the moisture from his tired eyes. It's been a long day. He will take their words and ruminate on them later, when he's better prepared to mourn what could have been had his father not killed himself. "Grateful to have reached the end of the paperwork, that's for sure."

All three of them let out an 'ooo.' "Quarterly clan head gatherings mean more paperwork," Shikaku points out.

"Only if I care enough to file the forms."

"You'll care," Shikaku promises.

Inoichi nods in agreement, crossing his arms. "The clans influence the course of the village in a different way than jonin do. You're too invested to sit them out."

"And passionate," Choza says.

Kakashi raises an eyebrow. "That's not a word most would use to describe me."

Choza chuckles. "They underestimate you."

"Kakashi," Shikaku says, the humor fading from his voice. "You see it, don't you? This path that you're walking—it may be one of your own making, but the more you step up, the more that people will notice."

"I'm not the only one, then." Kakashi has been turning over the thought in his head that he could have the potential to become hokage. His time in ANBU developed his shinobi skills to an exceptional level, he has leadership expertise, he's very familiar with most of the surrounding countries from his extensive mission history, and Hiruzen is going to keep handing him genin teams until he succeeds. It isn't a position he ever wants to take, but between his career and the fact that he has few obligations or attachments away from work, he could someday become favored for the position. He sighs and shrugs. "As long as we don't go to war…"

Chances of Konoha remaining at peace for the entire time he would be a viable candidate are laughable. The older men don't have to remind him of that.

Shikaku gives him a wry smile. "May such misfortune be a long time away."

Choza pours a round of sake and raises his cup. "To peace," he says, "and to Clan Hatake."

The rest of them raise their cups and clink them together.

"To Kakashi's bright future," Inoichi says.

"To Sakumo's memory," Shikaku says.

"To Konoha," Kakashi says, then knocks back his drink.

Kakashi savors the mornings that Iruka spends in his bed. The other man rests so peacefully, the stress his face usually holds—something so common he had never noticed it before—completely gone as he rests easily in the soft covers, surrounded by the ninken that join them on the bed and lit by the soft morning light through the curtains. Bisuke snuggles up between them, the dubious spot being his favorite despite (or because of) the risk of being snuggled and smothered as everyone sleeps. Kakashi remains relaxed, enjoying the comfort of the sheets and his family, Bull's heavy weight atop him a soothing presence.

The best part is the way Iruka slowly wakes up, eyes fluttering open to look at Bisuke with delight and then Kakashi with warm fondness. Iruka takes in his bare face, then leans in for a kiss to Kakashi's lips, slow and soft, before parting and giving Bisuke a kiss on the head.

This morning, Iruka touches Kakashi's face and rubs his finger across the prickly surface. "You know one of my favorite things about being a teacher?" he asks. "I get to watch people change and grow."

"I feel less like I'm growing and more like I'm stumbling from one thing into the next." Kakashi's voice is low and rough this early in the morning.

Iruka laughs quietly. "One of this days, you'll wake up and realize how much you've changed over the past few years, and it won't just be the stubble in the mirror. You'll have an answer for exactly who Kakashi is and what you want your future to look like."

Kakashi pets Bisuke, who basks in the attention. "I don't think it works that way for me. I get lost when I'm not relying on someone else to guide me and trying to be who they expect me to be, but it's easier now that I'm not trying to be someone else and my emotions are more stable." Between the testosterone and dating Iruka, for the first time he can remember, he doesn't feel like he's always on the edge of splitting. "And I know at least one thing I want in my future." In the absence of a mask, he pulls the sheet up to hide his face. The action doesn't dim Iruka's smile one bit.

"Is it a genin team? I bet it's a genin team."

"It is absolutely not a genin team," Kakashi insists. His serious tone is undercut by the way his voice cracks in the middle, squeaking embarrassingly on the word "absolutely," and he sighs. "But 'Kakashi-sensei' has a nice ring to it."

"You'll do great."

"If they pass."

"Have some faith in them. The graduating class is a strong group of kids," Iruka says, smiling fondly.

"Believe it or not, I've got a good feeling about this." Iruka makes it easy to feel hope and optimism, and knowing that he's nurturing the future generations reassures Kakashi. The chunin has truly grown into his own as a teacher since coming to terms with having Naruto in his class. "Iruka…"

"Yeah?"

Kakashi pulls down the sheet and smiles at him, a little stronger than his natural smile but nowhere near the ones he plasters on as Sukea. It's the kind of smile that feels right to him. "Thanks for having faith in me, too."