[Author's Note: First of all, thank you to everyone who has been following this mess since the beginning. I know it takes me fucking forever to update, but I have every intention of continuing to do so.

Secondly, if you enjoy reading Heliotrope, you might like another project I'm involved in - A Broken Winter. It's an original graphic novel with both a graphic novel and a novelized component. The first chapter has only just been released, and there's plans for many, many more. It does contain graphic/adult content, and will eventually contain yaoi.

Link: abrokenwinter(dotcom).

- K.N.]

Iruka saw the distance invade Kakashi’s open eye, swallowing everything in a cold shroud – its focus locked on some strange, far-off place he could neither identify nor touch, and for a moment he feared the worst. With the jounin sprawled out naked on top of him, these were not ideal circumstances for a relapse. Iruka raised a hand, reassuring in its intentions, only to have his wrist seized mid-way to its target, pinned roughly to the bed. Having regained Kakashi’s attention, Iruka began to wonder what he’d gotten himself into.

Robbed of pervasive detachment, the jounin’s stare was distinctly amorous, possessed of lustful intentions.

Kakashi’s pale fingers came together promptly in the formation of a seal. Despite a previous resolution not to question the older male other’s objectives (at least for the moment), Iruka promptly retracted the decision, “Now what the hell are you ... Nh!”

A seed of warmth germinating at the base of Iruka’s spine took root, branching outward in electric tendrils, coiling first around the base of his cock, wrapping the hilt of the swollen organ in bands of chakra, then dipping downward to loop around his scrotum. From there the chakra circled around the chuunin’s thighs, easing them upright and back, drawing muscular legs taut against his sides, overlapping his torso in knotted strands. His wrists were last, bound together tightly. Every inch of the ensnaring vines vibrated with an intense electric tingle substantial enough to have Iruka already breathing heavily. The sight caused Kakashi to grin shamelessly, and he wasted no time teasing the younger male unnecessarily, going straight for the length of the other’s erection, fingers grasping their target eagerly. Iruka groaned softly, curling his fingers into his palms as Kakashi licked and stroked, the jounin’s ceaseless caresses causing him to squirm as much as his bonds would allow. When the attention halted suddenly, Iruka nearly rioted in protest.

Glaring down the length of his torso, the chuunin stilled his tongue when he saw what Kakashi was doing. Deeply embroiled in concentration, Kakashi had managed to channel his chakra into a thin rod, the end of which he carefully inserted into the slender slit situated at the crown of Iruka’s arousal. Gently, Kakashi guided the chakra rod into the narrow passageway, then urged it upward again in the form of a light jerk. The friction, tingly and warm, caused Iruka to cry out sharply, his legs shuddering with involuntary spasms as he contended with the constant currents of pleasure, the continuous waves striking him in all the right places, urging him to the edge of climax. Torn between closing his eyes and watching this perverse spectacle, Iruka stared half-lidded at the pale-haired male, the jounin’s expression a mixture of intense concentration and contentment in a job expertly performed, a strange smile lingering at the corner of his damp lips.

“Kakashi,” Iruka groaned, surprised by the level of commitment required to produce coherent speech. “Why did you … When did you … Aah! Fuck it, I’m gonna come …”

Kakashi choked back a laugh, but Iruka thought little of it, forsaking resistance for the inevitable onslaught of emphatic bliss, only to find himself unable to do so. The pleasure was already more than he could normally withstand, but his cock remained rigid and attentive – ejaculation effectively blocked by the throbbing bands of chakra snug at its base. Powerful contractions produced no visible results, only the occasional milky droplet poised for swift removal by the underside of Kakashi’s thumb. The relentless throbbing in his legs, usually a valid warning signal, persisted without waning in intensity, and the flush of arousal staining Iruka’s neck and chest darkened.

Sensing Iruka’s dilemma, Kakashi fixed the dark-haired male with a curious stare, “Something wrong? Iruka-sensei is usually finished making a mess by now.”

Iruka gritted his teeth, clenching his eyes shut, head tipping back as Kakashi continued to manipulate the chakra rod, augmenting the highly pleasurable sensation by jerking off the chuunin’s cock with his other hand. “Aaah … I’m not – speaking to you – Nnnnh … right now … Mnh!”

“Why not? Iruka-sensei looks like he’s enjoying himself.”

“He would … Aaah, God damnit, Kakashi! Aah … ahh … enjoy himself … a lot more … If you’d … Ngh! Like that, like that … Aaah, yes! If … Mmnnh … aaah! Just shut up and be … mnh … quiet.”

Kakashi laughed lightly, “Quiet, eh? Like you?”

“Nnh … Not funny!”

“Quit playing coy and tell me how badly you want it.”

“Ungh … Want what?”

Withdrawing the chakra rod, Kakashi ran his tongue over the tip of Iruka’s erection, the damp flesh flushed deep purple, licking slowly, tasting the underside of its ridge. “Mmmm … Don’t know. You tell me.”

“I don’t care … what you do,” Iruka groaned, panting harshly now, “Just don’t stop.”

“You like this?” Kakashi teased, taking the crown of Iruka’s cock between his lips, tongue lashing against the throbbing organ as he sucked softly.

“You know I do … Aah … What have I … mn … told you … about asking … Nh! Aaaah, yes … Ah … stupid questions … in bed …”

Taking in more of Iruka’s cock, Kakashi inhaled deeply through his nose, his head bobbing slowly as he increased the voracity of his sucking, one hand lazily tracing the expanse of Iruka’s abdomen, the other working the flesh of his scrotum, fingertips rotating against the heated flesh in a clockwise motion, “Mm … Mmhmn hnn nnhnn hmm.”

Iruka felt momentarily light-headed, tipping his head back further as his muscles shuddered with sheer enjoyment, “Don’t talk … with your mouth … nnh … full.”

Kakashi hummed loudly instead. He kept close watch over Iruka, unsure how far he safely push the other male, beginning to search beneath the mattress for the half-empty tube of lubricant, unearthing it without too much effort. By the time the weekend was over, the tube would be empty again, and he made a mental note to start buying in bulk. Uncapping the tube, Kakashi smeared the viscous gel over his fingers, bringing a lone digit to Iruka’s entrance, working it inside slowly.

Iruka spoke only in increasingly frequent groans of carnal satisfaction.

When more fingers had joined the other, and Iruka was no longer making sense, Kakashi finally took pity on the younger male, squeezing out more lube, thoroughly coating his own cock, positioning himself to gain access to the chuunin’s depths. He eased his hips forward, arching over the younger male’s frame, kissing him hungrily, an eye widening in response as Iruka reciprocated - lashing out ardently with his teeth and tongue – he bit down on Kakashi’s bottom lip and sucked, refusing to relinquish the soft tier. Spending the better part of an hour pleasuring Iruka had Kakashi worked up to the point where the mere sensation of the other’s inner muscles shuddering against his erection was enough to risk setting him off, making him move quickly, enjoying what he could, while he could. Knowing the second he removed the ring of chakra from Iruka’s cock, the chuunin was going to ejaculate, if not explode, Kakashi waited until he was willing to withstand the younger male biting and writhing no longer, then repeated the seal he’d made before, dissipating his chakra.

Arms and legs now free, Iruka grabbed a handful of Kakashi’s hair, pulling roughly at the pale strands, sinking his teeth into the jounin’s shoulder, moaning and trembling as he came, pumping out pearly rivulets of semen – two, three, four … Caught in his own orgiastic haze, Kakashi lost count.

Minutes passed before Iruka had the presence of mind to withdraw his teeth from Kakashi’s shoulder; the mark would last for weeks.

Waking at regular intervals, Iruka turned his head in the direction of the door and listened. The sound of running water confirmed that Kakashi was still outside, tending to the garden, and he’d drift back to sleep for a while, enjoying the warm sun on his bare back.

Kakashi held his thumb over the hose, causing the water to spray in a dense mist, giving the contents of the vegetable garden a good long soak. Soreya stood at his side, tail wagging slowly, awaiting the moment when Kakashi would again drop the hose on the grass and the water would rush out in a constant stream, unguarded and open to attack. Smiling at the dog, the jounin let the hose go. Soreya pounced, jaws closing around the cold water in an attempt to trap it, succeeding only in getting wet. The canine leapt around in excitement, as energetic as a dog less than half his age, charging at Kakashi. Stomping a foot forward, the jounin caused the animal to retreat hastily - only to run frantic circles around the backyard and come barreling back at him. Leaping forward, Kakashi caught the dog around the mid-section, wrestling him on the wet grass, stroking his muzzle gently before releasing him. Kakashi laid there, water pooling at his toes, gazing skyward.

Despite having made significant progress over the past year, there was still a lot on his mind – unanswered questions well adept at the art of incessant nagging. He thought frequently of the circumstances surrounding his capture, always hoping to discover something new, something glaringly obvious which had failed to materialize in the past, but it was always the same thing, recycled anew, spat out in the same incomplete shape it went in as. What did they want him for? He still didn’t know, at least with any degree of confidence. The facts, as he knew them and believed to be true, were few in number. The search for a nameless human being - Him. A little girl who happened to be a little boy, something his captors obviously hadn’t known, judging by the way that bitch Kijo had screamed – the way a dying animal might scream, or someone confronted by the brutal honesty of failure to accomplish the necessary … failure to obtain something transcendental. Not a simple treasure, but something of much greater worth. Yet the child was a stranger to him, identifiable only by a remote sense of familiarity he couldn’t place. How funny it seemed to think that the thing they tried to beat out of him was within reach all along, if that was even the case. After all this time, it was the only thing that made sense.

The water covered his ankles. Kakashi got up and turned the hose off. He dried his feet and carefully wiped Soreya’s paws before making his way back inside, heading straight for the bedroom. Quietly opening the door, he peered inside, spotting Iruka stretched out naked on the bed. He invited himself in.

Kakashi sauntered over to the bed, promptly depositing himself atop the younger male, causing Iruka to flail in displeasure.

“Get off!” the chuunin wailed, lifting his head as he glared at his lover. “You smell like a wet dog! Go take a shower.”

Kakashi crept off Iruka reluctantly, a dark eye narrowing accusingly at Soreya. “He says you stink. Come on.” Snagging the dog by the scruff, he guided the canine in the direction of the bathroom, adjusting the temperature of the shower before stripping down and coaxing the canine into the water. He rigorously worked up a soapy lather, shampooing his hair, then the dog. When they were both rinsed clean Kakashi turned the water off. Soreya stepped out of the shower, shaking the water from his hair, and Kakashi did the same. Streaking down the hall, the jounin re-entered the bedroom, throwing himself at Iruka. In mid-protest, Iruka felt the damp plain of Kakashi’s palm smack hard against his ass.

“Kakashi!”

“Hmn?” A deceptively innocent stare matched with a poignant glare.

His wet hair dripping on Iruka’s back, Kakashi fought to wedge a hand between Iruka’s stubbornly clenched legs.

“Turn over. You’re squishing Iruka-sama,” Kakashi declared, pelting the swell of the chuunin’s backside with beads of water, the liquid rolling off him.

“Iruka-sama is fine!”

“He needs some fresh air.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“He does.”

“Hatake Kakashi. You can’t go around telling other people what their penis does or does not need.”

“He wants out! I can hear him!” Kakashi put his ear to the bed, fingertips tracing small circles over the small of Iruka’s back, “What’s that, Iruka-sama? He’s been neglecting you again? How long has it been? Is that right? He did that to you at his desk?”

Iruka reached over, punching Kakashi squarely in the shoulder, “Stop that!”

Linking an arm around the chuunin, Kakashi laughed lightly against the warm curve of his neck, lips grazing the hollow of his throat, “Iruka-sama has such dirty secrets.”

“Don’t talk about him like that. It’s undignified.”

“I think I’ll take that up with Iruka-sama.” Kakashi eased a hand between Iruka’s thighs, spreading his legs. This time he met no resistance.

It had been a week since Iruka last saw Kakashi. The jounin was working fairly consistently, often leaving the village for extended periods of time on a mission, with neither of them knowing when he might show up again. Iruka didn’t mind – between volunteering his services where they were needed and instructing at the academy, he always kept busy. He found the time spent apart agreeable, granting him renewed appreciation for Kakashi in general and a healthy appetite for accommodating his partner’s lechery. After weeks of separation, sometimes Iruka would return home to find Kakashi asleep in his bed, or cooking something to eat. On this occasion he found the jounin lounging on his couch, sprawled out languidly, the cover of Ichaicha Tactics splayed across his masked face, Soreya resting at his side. Lying on his back, the dog had Kakashi’s hand on its underbelly; gentle strokes applied to scarred flesh.

Seeing Iruka, Soreya began to wag his tail, but made no attempt to move. Iruka admired the overall physical condition of the former stray – once gnarled and matter fur had grown lustrous under a regime of daily grooming. Where bones had hugged the surface of the skin, the dog had filled out and healed up, leaving only scars to record a past of pain and discomfort.

Kneeling at the edge of the couch, Iruka ran a hand over the animal’s snout, smiling softly, “I see you have your friend back.” Soreya’s tail wagged in a steady thump, beating against Kakashi’s leg. The jounin grunted faintly beneath his book, fingertips caressing a tuft of hair on the dog’s chest, “Stop hittin’ me.”

When Kakashi was gone, Soreya stayed with Iruka, either holding down the fort or spending his day roaming through town, indulging in the occasional nostalgic bout of riffling through the trash. Iruka thought little of it when the dog left with him, expecting the canine to wander off long before he reached the academy. This time, however, the dog remained close, accompanying Iruka all the way to school.

“I don’t need a bodyguard,” the chuunin declared, crouching outside the entrance to pet the dog indulgently. “Why don’t you go home?” He opened the door part-way, and Soreya wedged himself inside the narrow crack, taking a seat in the hall. Breathing a light sigh, Iruka passed a hand over the back of his head and proceeded to the staff room. He’s scarcely had time for a first cup of coffee when one of his co-workers looked over and inquired, “Is that one of Kakashi’s mutts?”

At the mention of Kakashi’s name, Soreya stood up and looked around. Iruka swallowed the dry lump in his throat, fingers curling tighter around the handle of his coffee mug. “No, he’s …”

The bell rang. Turning to him with a smile and a shrug, the other instructor excused himself, “Well, what can you do? Another day, another way to use my forehead as target practice …”

Iruka peered into the empty cup.

Ours.

Curious onlookers shifted in their seats for a better look. The question was inevitable.

“Is that your dog, Iruka-sensei?”

“I’m looking after him today.” It was neither a lie, nor the truth as a whole, confining his response to the limbo occupied by questionable replies. Soreya was uncomfortable with the noise and the attention, wearily sitting himself next to Iruka, chin on his pale white paws. Iruka offered him a reassuring smile, and the dog’s tail flopped against the floor.

A student stood urgently, waving a hand, “Iruka-sensei! I need to go to the bathroom!” The outburst had Soreya on his feet, hackles bristling, ears pinned back as he barked sharply. The kid sat down.

Everyone was quiet until lunch.

Iruka sat on the edge of the picnic table, watching the children as they played. Soreya too was a careful observer – ears twitching and flicking, staring at the kids in silence. He looked back at Iruka regularly, dragging his tail slowly across the dirt when the gaze was returned.

Currently focused on a group of kids chasing a lone student, Iruka was waiting for the situation to escalate.

“Can’t you run any faster, stupid? What’s the matter – are your legs broken?”

His tolerance for bullying low, Iruka stood up, but before he could dispel the mob, the object of their scorn tripped and face-planted, invoking riotous laughter, leaving the chuunin to help him to his feet, brushing the dirt from his knees. “Don’t worry about them,” Iruka stated softly, “Someday you’ll be faster than all of them.” Sniffling softly against a sleeve, the kid trailed Iruka back to the picnic bench, sitting near to him on the ground. He removed a rubber ball from the pocket of his coat, throwing it up in the air and catching it. The repeated movement caught Soreya’s eye and the dog observed the routine tossing with a predatory stare. When the kid noticed he was being watched he clasped his hands over the ball, looking down shyly before rolling it to the canine. Soreya crept forward, sniffling the ball tentatively, tasting it with a brief lick before finally cementing it in his jaws. He carried the ball back to its owner, depositing it in his lap, uncertainly looking to the boy for approval.

Iruka was about to warn the boy against getting too close, when the kid threw his arms around Soreya’s neck, emitting a quivering sob, hugging tightly. On his feet again, Iruka half-expected the worst – gnashing teeth, torn limbs. Oh, God – the phone calls from enraged parents. He’d never be able to teach again. But Soreya sat with a patience the chuunin had not known him to exhibit, remaining still as a strange kid slobbered all over his coat. He sat back down, smiling.

Looks like you made a new friend.

When he heard Kakashi enter the room, Iruka shifted and glanced at the clock – even with the numbers blurred with lingering traces of sleep, he could tell that it was late. Kakashi halted immediately, sheepishly acknowledging that he’d woken the younger male up.

“S’all right,” Iruka murmured, “C’mere.”

“Gotta take a shower,” Kakashi responded, his sleeves crusty with dried blood. Iruka could tell how tired the jounin was by the sound of his voice, and that a shower was probably the last thing on a short list of things he wanted to do at the moment. He also suspected that if he hadn’t fallen asleep in Kakashi’s bed (without meaning to) that the jounin would have flopped right in, pulled up the covers, and gone to sleep. Kakashi didn’t seem to mind washing blood stains out of his sheets, especially when it wasn’t even his own blood.

Iruka reached for the other male, attempting to draw him down on the bed, but Kakashi brought two of his pale fingertips to his masked lips, pressing the digits to Iruka’s forehead, and escaped into the bathroom.

Unable to fall back asleep, Iruka waited impatiently for his lover to return, and when he did the chuunin successfully managed to pull Kakashi into bed without granting him the opportunity to put some clothes on, only a towel wrapped around his thin hips.

“Missed me?” the jounin inquired, amusement as evident as his curiosity.

“Shut up,” Iruka muttered, effectively driving a gasp from the depths of Kakashi’s throat as his fingers fought with the jounin’s towel, yanking it off. Iruka barely realised what he was doing until Kakashi was inside him, their hips rocking together in greeting – slowly at first, then with strict intention of ending what they’d started.

When Kakashi collapsed on top of him with a satisfied groan, Iruka reached out to stroke the length of the jounin’s damp spine, kissing the line of his jaw. The clock ticked faintly in the background, counting off the minutes, and half-teasing/half-serious, Iruka declared, “Kakashi, you can get off me now.”

It wasn’t until confronted by the jounin’s persistent silence that Iruka realised Kakashi was asleep.

In the morning Kakashi was perpetually apologetic, going as far as to make breakfast for Iruka in an attempt to redeem himself, but considering he bore a large portion of the blame for getting the tired male so worked up in the first place, Iruka simply enjoyed the attention.

It was an established fact that Iruka’s couch was in slightly better shape than Kakashi’s. It had endured less abuse in recent months – something which secretly annoyed Iruka, triggering silent vows for a balancing of statistics. Embolden by his covert mission, Iruka seized the first opportunity to present himself. He took it slow, playing out the scenario exactly the way it had gone over in his head, beginning with the relatively innocent act of taking a seat on the couch and placing a hand on Kakashi’s leg. He avoided the jounin’s feet, knowing them to be alarmingly ticklish. To touch them was generally an exclusive invitation for a kick in the face – Iruka had found that out the hard way. Stretched out on the couch, engrossed in the familiar text of a beloved book, Kakashi thought little of the action at first, neither explicitly ignoring Iruka nor acknowledging the weight of his hand. Iruka pivoted on the couch, sliding his frame slowly between the jounin’s legs, forcing Kakashi to take notice; fixing the dark-haired male with an intent stare over the brightly-coloured cover of his book.

“Going to put the book down?” Iruka asked, sliding a hand up the front of Kakashi’s chest, tanned fingers raking invisible lines down its surface.

“Depends,” Kakashi replied, a hint of colour overtaking the visible portions of his cheeks.

“On what?”

“On you, Iruka-sensei.”

“In that case …” Thankful for the cup of sake he’d had the hindsight to drain earlier, Iruka hooked his fingers around the band of Kakashi’s pants, urging the dark fabric downward. His tongue lashed out to lick the crown of the jounin’s cock. Kakashi set the book down.

This was something Iruka had never done before, but he’d watched Kakashi do it enough times to develop a reasonably firm grasp on both the tactile and the aesthetic aspects of the act. His main concern was that if Kakashi complained he might experience the compulsion to bite him. Fortunately, any reservations were unfounded, as Kakashi took immediate pleasure in what Iruka was doing, and wasn’t afraid to show it. The harder he sucked, the more the jounin’s hips began to buck, and Iruka felt the throbbing length of Kakashi’s cock twitching in his mouth when the front door was thrown open.

“Iruka-sensei!” It was Naruto. Naruto who had been told to come over whenever he wanted. Naruto who never bothered to knock.

His heart at the bottom of his stomach, which had sunk to somewhere around the vicinity of his ankles, Iruka released Kakashi’s arousal and poked his head up over the edge of the couch. His hair was in a state of chaos, robbed from its ponytail, hanging free to enable Kakashi to toy with it, sticking out in ways typically associated with someone with the misfortune of being struck by lightning. His cheeks were flushed mortified tones of crimson. Iruka parted his lips to defend his condition, but the words came out strangled and incomplete.

Naruto stared at the dark-haired male in confusion. “Oi. Were you taking a nap?”

“Yeah … Guess I fell asleep …” Getting up slowly, Iruka seized his ponytail holder from the table, combing his fingers with his hair and attempting to bring some degree of order back to the wayward strands, tying them up. “Want the rest of your ramen?” It was the only thing he could think to say, all the while deliberately avoiding Kakashi’s stare, afraid that doing otherwise at this point might entail turning into stone.

“You bet!”

Kakashi took a minute to just lie there, then sat up after tugging his pants back on.

“Huh?” Naruto stared at the jounin, blue eyes squinting in a combination of suspicion and bewilderment. Reaching out, he elbowed Iruka lightly in the side, leaning over to whisper in the chuunin’s ear, “What’s he doing here?”

“We were just …” Iruka managed to start a sentence, though it wasn’t long before he realised he had no idea how to finish it. He didn’t want to lie to Naruto, but at the same time this was never the way he’d intended to break the news. Not now. Not like this.

“Going over some figures for Tsunade-sama.” Kakashi lied for him.

“That would put anyone to sleep, dattebayou.” Crossing his arms, Naruto nodded sagely. This revelation rationalized everything, leaving him content with the explanation. Content, and oblivious. “Mmhmm.”

“Yes, well …” Iruka was still having considerable difficulty formulating a constructive sentence. He shut up and withdrew the ramen from the fridge to warm on the stove.

With Iruka temporarily occupied, Naruto turned his attention to Kakashi, gazing at him intently.

“Hnh?” Kakashi inquired, returning the stare with a hint of annoyance.

“Kakai-sensei looks much better now than he did before.” More nodding. “Uh huh, uh huh.”

Prying himself off the couch, Kakashi smiled faintly. “Thanks.” He walked up to Naruto, briefly placing a hand on his shoulder, then moved to stand near Iruka, leaning against the counter. Iruka glanced at the jounin out of the corner of his eye, watching him wearily. Kakashi stared at him in feigned innocence. Sighing softly, Iruka lowered his head, ignoring the boiling ramen in favour of fixing his focus on the floor. Reaching over, Kakashi placed a hand on Iruka’s chin, tilting his head up, offering a reassuring smile. Iruka held the older male’s gaze, returning the smile.

Naruto looked on blankly, “Huh?”

Kakashi leaned in, grazing the chuunin’s cheek with the side of his hand.

Naruto began waving his arms dramatically in protest, his horror compounding. “Oi! Iruka-sensei! You’re burning the ramen!”

Drawing back quickly, Iruka turned the temperature down. “Ah! Sorry, sorry, Naruto.”

Looking much relieved, Naruto put his head down on the table, cheeks puffing outward, “Don’t scare me like that, dattebayou!”

It was nearly a year since the incidence of his capture and only recently had Kakashi begun to feel comfortable again in Tsunade’s presence, finally relieved of the fear that she might lecture him unnecessarily. She was briefing him on his next assignment, keeping it short and to-the-point. “It’s nothing out of the ordinary. An elderly man wants an escort to a family shrine near the Suna border. There have been numerous reports of bandit activity in the region and he fears for his safety. He requested you specifically – said it would serve to substantially alleviate his fears. He doesn’t look like someone who can afford to get too worked up, and on that basis I’ve felt it necessary to grant his request. You know the area well enough.” She paused momentarily. “He’s waiting for you by the gate.”

“Easy enough.” Kakashi replied, turning to leave.

“Kakashi.”

He turned to look back at her, pocketing his hands.

Tsunade looked down at her desk. “Be careful.”

Tilting his head, Kakashi wondered if the blonde Hokage had somehow renewed reservations about relinquishing him to the field. “Always, Hokage-sama.”

When he left Tsunade opened her desk drawer, removing the morning’s paper, staring uneasily at her winning lottery numbers.

The old man was standing by the village entrance. Kakashi raised a hand in greeting, triggering his client to break into a wide, toothless grin. “Hatake Kakashi. A pleasure to meet you,” He bowed low – so low that his long white beard touched the ground. “Thank you for escorting me. I’m old, and my senses are not what they used to be.” He stood upright with a low, audible snap of the back. “I have little time left.”

“We’ll get you there in one piece. Leave everything to me.”

Progress was slow. The poor health of Kakashi’s client guaranteed frequent stops and extended periods of silence, interrupted only by the sound of the old man working the phlegm free from the back of his throat, coughing harshly. Kakashi caught the old man studying him often, but when he did the man would smile, making the wrinkles at the corners of his mouth stand out, then look away. Neither of them bothered to initiate conversation and their journey was initially undisturbed.

After travelling for several days the old man became visibly anxious, “We’re getting close now.” He grew increasingly agitated with his own lack of progress, pushing himself harder and further. Toward mid-afternoon he began to stumble on occasion, nearly falling – had Kakashi not been there to catch him, he would have. Kakashi noticed him rubbing his chest and his temples, having difficulty walking in a straight line. There were brief instances where he seemed disoriented and confused, but these moments only inspired him to walk faster.

“Perhaps you should rest,” Kakashi advised, looking apprehensively at the older male. Having a client drop dead on you was not usually something that looked good in your files, whether or not it was directly your fault.

Shaking his head repeatedly, the old man insisted on continuing, “I’ll be all right. Let’s continue.”

A little further on, a flock of birds scattered in the distance, causing the old man to grip Kakashi’s arm, bony fingers digging sharply into his bare skin. “Hurry,” he said, clutching his chest, leaning against a tree for support. Wheezing softly, the man looked to Kakashi in panic and dread.

“Wait a minute. You’re in no condition to –”

“It’s not – what you think …” Withdrawing a gourd from his backpack, the man swallowed a mouthful of water, then attempted to repeat the process – spilling the liquid, getting little in his mouth.

“What is this?” Client or not, Kakashi was beginning to regard the man with an element of suspicion. This was no ordinary trip to a family shrine.

“We must reach the shrine, before …” A distinct explosion sounded, followed by the crumbling of rock. Wide-eyed, the man took hold of the tree, nearly blacking out. He shook his head as if to clear away the pain, and a second explosion detonated. “Stay to the south. The ruins …” Bringing a hand to his mouth, he hacked against the cold flesh of his palm, spraying blood.

Kakashi frowned deeply. “Hold on. My primary objective is to keep you out of danger, to go charging in there …”

Regarding Kakashi pleadingly, the man reached for his hand, grabbing it and squeezing tightly. The chill of his fingers caused Kakashi to cringe inwardly, “I’m not the only one in danger. Please, Hatake-sama.”

Sighing heavily, Kakashi passed a hand along the back of his own neck, taking a moment to think. “This is going to get me into trouble.” Helping the man onto his back, Kakashi ran in the direction of the decrepit ruins – old buildings which clearly hadn't been used for hundreds of years. It looked as if a small village had once stood in this spot, but now there was little to indicate any presence of life. The old man guided him inside a building with the roof half-collapsed on one side, and once inside the man quickly formed a sequence of seals, illuminating a small trapdoor at the back of the dwelling.

Kakashi threw the door open and stepped inside.

Why the hell am I doing this?

They followed a long staircase, descending deep underground, the walls lined with clumps of phosphorescent moss, giving off an ethereal glow. Footsteps and shouting were heard overhead, their words too muffled to discern. Coming to a fork in the passage, the dying man wheezed directions, at times struggling to remember the way, “Left. Right. Right. No, left.”

When they reached a dead end, the man performed another sequence of seals. They entered a brightly-lit room, with a large black rock in the centre, its surface polished shiny and metallic.

“Put me down. Give me your hand.” For all the pain he was in, the old man actually seemed excited. He grabbed Kakashi’s hand, pressing it to the flat surface of the stone. The chakra flared over Kakashi’s hand, and there was a momentary pause, followed by a low rumbling and the gradual shifting of the rock, sliding backward to reveal a hidden compartment beneath it. Reaching into the hole, the man seized its contents – a glass vile, containing tiny particles of what looked like grains of red and purple sand. He placed it in Kakash’s hand, closing the jounin’s fingers around it. Staring up at the light-haired male, he erupted into a gurgling, high-pitched laugh, and leaned in to whisper in a conspiratorial fashion. “They don’t know about this. No, not at all.”

“What is it?” Kakashi asked, swallowing the lump at the back of his dry throat.

“Butterflies … are not meant to rule kingdoms.”

Butterflies … Where have I …

“What the hell does that mean?” Kakashi sounded a little harsher than he would have liked, but the statement had struck a nerve.

“You’ll see. Quickly, the door …” Shakily, the old man pointed to a door at the other end of the room, his finger wavering in the air. The door opened automatically when they approached it, then slid shut behind them. Heaving a sigh of relief, the old man pressed his back to the wall, gripping his chest as he panted, wrinkled eyes closing, “It’s up to you now.” For a moment he forced his eyes open again, smiling warmly at Kakashi, reaching out to once again take his hand, but his arm dropped half-way to the target, his frail body slumping to the side, sliding along the wall until it hit the floor. Something moved in the centre of the room, and Kakashi pulled out his kunai, moving with his back against the wall as he neared the source of disruption. Gripping the kunai so tight that the bones of his knuckles stood out, stark and creamy white, he approached a low podium, ready to stab anything that moved. A dark bundle of fabric appeared to be the only possible source of life, and he ran through a mental list of options, hoping to provide some distraction from the fear plaguing his movements. This was all too familiar, and not in a good way.

Great, it’s either reanimated body parts, or a nest of killer bees, a diseased animal that’s going to infect …

A small fist rose from the mess of fabric, and Kakashi quickly lashed out, peeled back the cloth. Bundled within was a baby boy. The baby looked at him, dark eyes narrowing as he stared in an almost alarmingly critical way, seeming to search for something, then began to smile.

An exploding tag detonated in the distance.