This has a happy ending I promise.

Disclaimer: I almost owned Kakashi and Iruka once. I had a contract written up and everything. All I needed was their signatures. Kakashi had a pen in hand and everything. but Iruka insisted on reading the fine print. Long story short Kakashi burnt the crap out of my little contract. No matter, next time I'll get them for sure.

"You have not lived today until you have done something for someone who can never repay you." -John Bunyan

Last Words: Iruka

He curled possessively, clutching the motionless shinobi beside him. The cruel reality of their situation almost crow like as it pecked at the strained eyes of the tenderhearted chunin and threatened to breach the damn of restraint known as shinobi conduct rule 25.

"Don't tell him I cried." He hissed.

"I wont." Replied a somber base voice, too deep for its pug owner.

Head down, Iruka refused to meet the sad eyes of the dog he knew had never really liked him. He was never good enough for the 'boss'. And Iruka had to agree. He was a simple chunin teacher; the other: a prestigious Jounin genius, famous, irreplaceable, lovable, idiotic, aggravating...

He nodded slightly to himself as his eyes burned in memory and memory became a toxic catalyst chewing away his composure.

Kakashi was a real pain in the ass and he shouldn't have been that likable. No doubt, from the moment he became aware of Irukas rambunctious past, it was the manipulative elites full intention to prey on the dormant prankster deep within him. That each irritating stunt that followed was masterfully designed as a siren call to his inner delinquent, to purposefully contort itself into endearments in his mind. That each frustratingly shoddy report the silver haired bastard wrote, every unwanted Icha Icha verse read allowed, were aimed exclusively to roughshod there way into welcome displays of attention. As well as jutsue into an irresistible invitation to play.

Iruka forgot when exactly he noticed that the shouting that inevitably ensued had became heated affection. Nor did he care. Since rather like boiling alcohol, his irritation would evaporate under a poignant simmering gaze. His embarrassment and indignation would burn off quickly and give way to more normal forms of courting. And because the squirrelly jounin could give as well as he could get, they were equally comfortable with the odd arrangement hovering pleasantly between tricks and traps and love and lust.

Reevaluating their relationship, Iruka intensely reviewed every jape, taunt and thrilling tease, each one vying for thorough inspection. But each new reflection only brought him closer to his original assumption. No one could send him into fevered hysterics like Kakashi could. but likewise no one could sooth him quite so deeply, like quenching steel. Somehow Kakashi was both fire and water.

His mind twirled blithely; weaving around a tapestry of memory's, revisiting his favorites both old and new, only to connect back to a seemingly blase vision of something mundane like washing dishes together, both wet and soapy. He almost physical choked on the startling epiphany that it was the irritatingly small menial things, like Kakashis annoyingly strict watering regimen for Mr. Ukki, or how he always forgot to shut the window when he fell asleep. That they were the things he cherished most.

He smiled through unshed tears as he contemplated the jounins obnoxious habits. The little eccentricities that normally drove him batty, now had him sighing in bitter sweet contentment. Till an icy internal voice reminded him, But your going to die.

A deep sense of panic washed over him, drowning him in its promised finality. There was not going to be a next time. Never, had he ever imagined that one day he would find himself wiling to give anything for the privilege of having Kakashi provoke him one last time. But he couldn't even bargain for the chance, since he had nothing of value to offer. His life was all but spent.

Throat tight the little Nin-ken rested a comforting paw on the shivering chunin, drawing him from his musings.

Iruka only nodded, thankful for the simple gesture.

Willing a curtain of resilience to surround and cloak him from his pain, he steadied himself with a fortifying deep breath and sniffed and swallowed back tears.

He knew he had made the right decision, both for Kohanan and himself. He had excepted his fate back when he realized they were both poisoned but only had one ANBU grade antidote. As far as Iruka was concerned the choice and been clear. But Kakashi was selfishly willing to sacrifice himself. Iruka noted the resolute defiance in Kakashi's tired gray eye. But thankfully the sedative paired with the poison had slowed the copy-nins reflexes enough so Iruka could strike. He had acted first, administering a fast acting sedative, just enough to push the elite the rest of the way to sleep. He did it blindly, refusing to allow the echoed look of his lovers shocked betrayal to be what followed him into death.

Iruka numbly recalled a howl of rage as Pakkun charged in all his doggy furry upon witnessing the school teachers treachery. Clinging to the slumped form of the fallen elite he vaguely registered the charge change to a confused canter.

"He would have forced me to take it." He explained listlessly, eyes foggy in a haze of resignation. His dark expression falling as cold and hollow as the chilled cave he mourned in.

Iruka sat for a moment more unwilling to move, too deep set in a thick vat of churning emotions. Then slowly, deliberately, mechanically, under the watchful eye of the loyal summons; he fashioned a tourniquet to the copy-ninjas arm and stiffly withdrew the antidote and syringe. Inserting the needle he drew out the clear substance from its tiny vial. As if mesmerized Iruka paid special attention to the bubbles replacing the liquid in the air tight cylinder. Then tapping the side of the syringe, he made sure all the air was separated from the medicine.

Without preamble he sank the prepared needle into a plump vain and plunged the fluid into the Jounins system. Iruka knew his face was blank as the pug looked him over and he released the tourniquet. He didn't care, all he wanted was to clutch Kakashi tighter. And he did, but it was not tight enough. It never would be.

And so here he was. Clawing at the last vestiges of rule 25, stubbornly holding to his shinobi training. He felt deserted and abandoned in the face of the harsh uselessness of only being able to bare his soul to a ninken who always despised him and an unconscious body. He wasn't even afforded the decency of being able to say goodbye to the lover in his own arms. And that pervasive thought coiled around him and through him, with all the harsh unforgiving suffocation of a sand coffin. He was going to die alone next to the one he loved. To be forced to endure the agonizing silence as tho Kakashi where sealed behind glass, somewhere he could not reach.

Fighting his fears he continued to grasp at scattered thoughts, forgotten wishes and duty and memories of missions... small insignificant things that sum up a persons life. All the chances he had but never took, all the choices he made and consequences he had to live with. And as his avoidance driven thoughts pranced happily through his mind he realized, with the honest sincerity of a dying man, he had lived a good life.

"My paper work is caught up." He said randomly, tho a twinge of bitterness intertwined a note of toneless black humor in his voice. The pug hummed in response. "And my classes are over for the year. So perhaps this really is the best time for me..." He had every intention of admitting his fate, but the words built a spontaneous blockade and got lost in his throat.

His lips trembled as a foreign iron taste crept into his mouth aside a disorienting sluggishness that seeped into his senses. Its presence marking the first symptom of the insatiable glutenous fog of death, relentlessly marching onward, intent on enveloping him like the nightmare it was.

Recapturing his own attention Iruka struggled to focus. Breathing slow he fought the encroaching fatigue. There was something he had yet to do.

"Tell Naruto I think he has grown into an amazing shinobi. And that I am very proud of who he has become."

"I will Iruka Sensei." The dog said reverently.

"And tell him, I know he will become a great Hokage someday." Iruka managed a strained smile, vaguely pleased, despite the growing lump in his throat he had not let emotion slip. But he doubted he'd be so lucky next time. He looked back to the sleeping Jounin.

"Tell him..." As if by the slamming of a door his mind drew blank. Seizing up tight under the fierce weight of realization this was the end; and the vast myriad of things unsaid came crashing to the forefront. So many things he never would say and now he never could.

Emotionally collapsing on himself, Iruka constricted his attention to admiring silver hair. He reflect dimly on how damaged the man was after the loss of his genning team and sensei. How isolated, how lonely, how desolate. He contemplated Kakashi's future compared against his past and twirling white bangs between tanned fingers he steeled himself, knowing that what Kakashi really needed to here was the last thing he wanted to say. Taking a shuttered breath he prepared to brake his own heart admitting the truth of his next words.

"Tell him I don't want to be another ghost... That I refuse to haunt him." He huffed out in irregular gasps, rule 25 shattering with tormented tears. "... my last wish is for him to forget me." Anguish slashing through him. Its pure corrosive rippling pain spreading like chidori, attacking every nerve ending in his body. He ground his teeth, fighting back the brutal emotion that stung as sure as any physical blow. "I want him to be happy. I need him to be happy and he needs to do it without me. Tell him-" He tore open his glistening eyes desperately needing to see Kakashi for as long as he could. "... Just take care of him Pakkun." He convulsed unrepentantly as his voice broke around his pleaded whisper.

Inching closer the nin-ken rested his head on the teachers leg, whimper softly, but said nothing. He didn't need to. They both knew he would.

Leaning down, Iruka trembled as he gently kissed cloth covered lips. At his touch, a surge of confliction swept through him mimicking the poison in his system. He desperately wished he could reclaim that last action. Some powerful, unbidden emotion, began to swell within him. Rising to the surface like a large bird thrusting out its wings, preparing for flight.

No. This was not enough. This was not good enough. This was not the end.

He needed to see Kakashi, to have him open his eyes, to feel him... to pore his soul into one last kiss.

He needed the chance to say... goodbye.

And suddenly a dam broke. Like bursting from a genjustue, an emotional barrier released resulting in a cascading failure as all Irukas defenses came thundering down. His world tumbling apart around him leaving the teacher to gasp hopelessly, helplessly alone. Regret, shame, panic and fear mingled together to violently squeeze out a choked cry of primal grief.

Flooded and drowning in unbidden feelings, the defeated chunin allowed himself to be engulfed by emotions; all to eager to play a role in his destruction. His body convulsed, and he unconsciously coiled around the Jounin.

'thaat was their last kiss?'

"I don't want to leave." He railed suddenly in a heated furry. Anger rising like an old friend in his time of need. His rapid almost psychotic turn startling the Nin-ken. "Its not that I am afraid to die. I just... don't want to leave him." His voice rose in pitch to a frantic breathy tone as he strained ever closer to the jounin. "That's my greatest regret Pakkun." He growled through his failing voice, taking his hand to wipe his face. "It's unfair. I am Happy. Truly deeply happy..." Another sob racked his body supported by a shallow steady breath.

Wrapping himself around the Jounin he let his tears fall soaking both uniforms. His anger draining from him like blood loss drains life.

By the time a dull illness calmed him he knew he was out of time and these were his last words. What would they be? He muddled it over in his sluggish mind before settling on an obvious truth.

"I love you." He whispered tiredly. His grip on the Jounin vest slackened even as he clutched it tighter. Yes, those were the words he wanted to die with on his lips. Then again he could do one better. The perfect last word.

"I love you, Kakashi."

And as he drifted off into final darkness he never heard the small moan of the jounin. Soft, like a gently waking infant.

I had every intention of leaving this a tragic one shot but after I wrote Iruka say "It's unfair. I am Happy. Truly deeply happy" I knew I had to make a chapter two.