With apologies for the slow update...still hanging in there? Many thanks! I won't waste your time - which I truly appreciate - with my excuses. Here's the next chapter...

Chapter 12

"Ki?" Iruka called out, carefully opening the door. Mizuki's door was unlocked and slightly ajar. Iruka gnawed his lower lip, nervous about the encounter to come. He felt bad for the older shinobi, but he was just a bit afraid of his reaction. Worry for his friend made him set aside his reluctance and forge ahead.

"What the fuck do you want?" Mizuki growled. The voice came from the kitchen. He heard the clink of a heavy bottle, and figured that meant Mizuki planned to get drunk.

"Ki, I'm…I'm sorry." He hesitantly started toward the kitchen.

"Have a seat. I'm getting us something to drink."

"Uh…no, that's all right. You go ahead, though."

More clinking of glassware, and pouring. After a short pause, Mizuki appeared with two glasses.

"I said I'd rather not."

"Tough shit, you're drinking anyway. With all the crap I've been through, you wouldn't make me drink alone, would you?" He shoved the glass from his right hand into Iruka's.

"No, I guess not," he reluctantly agreed. "I just can't believe you didn't pass. Maybe you should talk to them. I mean..."

"Shut up, Ru. Drink, and shut up. I know I passed the exam. It wasn't all that hard. I knew the answers."

"But, then, that's all the more reason to…"

"I didn't fail the test. They denied me the position. That has to be it."

"Why would they do that? Let me look into it; I'll find out."

"And who are you gonna talk to? That old letch Sarutobi? Forget it. Do as you're told. Drink your drink and shut up."

"No!" It was an instinctive reaction. "Stop taking this out on me. I'm just trying to help."

"Big of you. Big of you to come here and help me by being a noisy, unsympathetic dick. All I'm asking you to do is to sit down, be quiet, and join me in a drink so that I can calm down. Too much to ask?"

"Shit. How do you always turn things around on me?"

"Do I? What are you accusing me of, at a time like this? Why did you even come here?"

"You were upset! I came to help. I care, you know!"

"This is not helping, Iruka. Not helping. Not even close."

"I'm sorry. I didn't come here to fight. It's just that it doesn't make sense. It has to be a mistake. It can't hurt to make sure."

Mizuki shook his head in disgust and tossed down his drink in one quick move. He turned to go for a refill, prompting Iruka to reluctantly follow.

"And, look, if it's for real, maybe you can assist me in my class! That'd be great, right? Working together?"

The look on the platinum-haired shinobi would have melted iron. "Assist you? You think that's funny?"

"No! I'm serious. Just for a while! Just until you can re-test."

"I'll show you serious. This is seriously what I think about that." Mizuki took Iruka by the collar and pulled back the hand with the glass in it, demonstrating his violent intent.

"Don't hit me with that! Let go!"

"Well, boss, why don't you fucking make me? Me, assist you? Let's assist you in seeing who comes out on top."

Their raised voices were just detectable from outside. Two small boys playing nearby exchanged guilty smiles and ran up below the window, crouching down to eavesdrop. They giggled at the silly-sounding argument and made faces at each other to match the half-understood dialogue.

The taller, darker-haired boy scratched his shiny mop of hair and waggled a finger at this companion. The next giggle was abruptly cut off when something slammed against the wall so hard the windows above them rattled as if they would break; the noise of the impact startled them out of their mirth.

The smaller boy started to motion for them to leave when the sound of glass breaking inside and a cry of pain froze them in their tracks. The level of chakra around them soared; instinct told them to get far away. They began backing away, and took off at a dead run. The taller boy looked back over his shoulder and gasped as he saw blood splatter the window they had just been beneath.

Safe in Shino's family compound, they crouched outside and regained their breath.

"We gotta tell."

"We weren't supposed to go that far. I'll get grounded."

"Nuh-uh. They'll be too busy cleanin' up the murder to ground us."

"We don't know it was murder."

"It was. We have to tell!"

"Nope."

"Chicken-bug!"

"Big-mouth bowl-head! Keep your mouth shut!"

"No! We have to do what is right!"

"You don't know nothing!"

"Boys, boys," Shibi stepped out of the greenery, removing the large beetle from his wrist and placing it back in the netted enclosure. "I can't think with all this noise. What's the issue here?"

"Nothing!"

"We saw mmmph…"

"Shino! Get your hand off his mouth. He bites, remember? Now, Jun…what is it?"

"Just…" Jun gave a petulant look to Shino, small fists clenched in righteousness. "We saw a murder."

"Oh." Shibi nodded indulgently, fighting a smile. He patiently awaited yet another tall tale of imaginary adventure. "That must have been very alarming for the both of you."

"There was blood and yelling and everything!" Jun's voice raised in excitement.

"Wow. Glad they didn't get either one of you!"

"They didn't see us," Shino glared.

"Ah, well. Hiding is a good strategy. That's a skill you'll be using a lot when you become shinobi. You boys ought to go inside and get something to drink. It's pretty warm today."

Shino stuck his tongue out at Jun for being stupid. His dad didn't care, and it had just risked getting them grounded for nothing. He was glad they didn't really hang out together, and that they didn't drop off Jun for his parents to keep an eye on regularly. For the most part, they got aling like oil and water.

"You're lying about the blood anyway," Shino smirked as he kicked off his sandals.

"I saw it! It went all over the window! You were too busy running like a chicken-bug to look back!"

Shibi followed them in to get them all cool drinks, getting a little curious. "What kind of game were you playing?"

"I dunno. Not anything special." Shino sulked. Then his eyes lit up. "Mom!"

"Why is everyone in my kitchen this time of day?" she asked with mock annoyance.

"The boys looked kind of parched. They've been out running around playing."

"We saw blood!" Jun piped in.

Shibi nodded with a wink at his wife's look. She smiled.

"Oh, my. Lot and lots? Whose blood was it?"

"I didn't see any, he's making it up." Shino stepped in between Jun and his mother, putting a possessive hand on her hip.

"Did, too! It was on the window! And all the yelling got real quiet, I bet you didn't notice that either."

"Shows how much you know! That yelling stopped when the big noises hit the wall!" Shino retorted.

"What on earth were you two pretending to be?"

"No! It wasn't pretend." Jun protested.

"First thing you said so far that was truth," Shino sniffed.

"Don't say things like that, boys. It's fine to play your games, but don't try to say it's the truth. Someone could take you seriously and get worried."

"Okay," Shino said, glad to let the subject finally die. Now, if Jun would just go home or away or wherever the annoying kid came from…

Jun pointed an accusing finger. "Don't just say okay. Say it's not a lie!"

"Al right, enough. Tell me what really happened, if something did happen. Where were you? And I'm very serious, boys. I want the truth. If this was just a game, tell me now and we're all done."

Shino glared at Jun. As expected, the big bowl-headed kid spilled the whole thing.

"Show me. Take me there."

The small boys led Shibi to the street in front of the small apartment, where there was no sign of blood or altercation. He would have chalked it up to imagination if he hadn't known who lived there. Now that he saw whose apartment they had been near, he was fairly certain their story was true.

Shibi considered the possibilities. "You two go across the way and stand under the tree. Just stand there, don't come any closer. Alright?"

He knocked. There was no answer. He knocked again, more insistently,

The door opened a crack.

"Yes, Aburami-san, what can I do for you today?"

"Mizuki, hello. Sorry to bother. The boys were playing here in the area earlier and Shino forgot his special sunglasses. You didn't happen to see them and pick them up, did you?"

"No. I didn't see them. But I haven't been outside for a while." Mizuki eyed the bug jounin suspiciously.

"Hm. Thanks anyway, then, sorry to bother you. How are things going at the Academy these days?"

"Ah, look – I would enjoy chatting with you, but I have water running and I don't want it to overflow. Another time, Aburame-san, if you please. Goodbye now." He shut the door firmly.

Shino cast a veiled thread of chakra, surreptitiously searching from the number and condition of apartment's occupants. He had detected traces of blood, the sort of thing that would linger after a hasty clean-up, when Mizuki had opened the door. His senses found pretty much what he expected. Someone else with a familiar chakra was in there with Touji – very much alive, however. He didn't detect any particular distress, indicating that the other person was not being held against their will.

He gathered up the boys and headed back home.

"So, did somebody get dead?"

"No, everyone's fine."

"We didn't lie!"

"I know. They probably just had an argument. Big people do that. All the time. But I'm glad you told an adult about it. That was the right thing to do."

It was Jun's turn to stick out his tongue at Shino.

It gave Shibi plenty to consider. He wasn't sure whether to go straight to the Hokage or confront Iruka with it first.

o0o0o0o

Mizuki had healed him, cleaned him up and after the brief interruption at the door, proceeded to maneuver him into a bout of making up that left him in need of healing and clean up again. By the time Iruka left his lover, both of them finally calm and in control, the sun was beginning to rise.

His only salvation was that the Academy was on break. He needed his own bed, with no one else in it. He needed time to think. This thing with Mizuki was getting to be a distraction for him these days.

This was love as he knew it. This was how a relationship went. He never really questioned the elements of it. For the self-indulgent weakness of having to have companionship, he was being controlled, judged, punished, and micromanaged. Like when he was little. Only now, it was far more complicated. He had so many new freedoms and responsibilities to deal with, all while trying to maintain his end of this invasive relationship. He had dirty secrets and filthy desires to juggle, and they were entwined in his relationship as well. He was shamefully eager to use Mizuki as his crutch for dealing with all of that. No wonder the platinum-haired nin lost his temper so completely every now and again. It was entirely understandable.

There was a note folded and stuck to the door of his apartment with a kunai, a jutsu attached so that only Iruka could open it; quite unusual. He pulled it free and frowned as he read it. Aburame-sama wanted to speak with him immediately. He sighed and rested his head against the door. He needed to curl up and be still and alone for a while, to gather himself back up before dealing with anyone else. After a moment's pause, he decided he needed just a few minutes, at least. A change of clothes, a few minutes of solitude and peace, recharging in his very own space.

He no sooner stepped in than a voice over his shoulder startled him.

Shibi had been cloaked in stealth, watching every move and reaction as Iruka took the note and read it. He detected the young man's condition, and his trampled psyche. He wasn't going to turn a blind eye to this now.

"Iruka-kun."

Iruka spun, shaking his head. "Aburame-sama, I will come to see you shortly. Please allow me a moment to refresh myself; I have been away for the night…"

"Don't belittle my intelligence, Iruka. We both know where you were. I have an excellent idea as to what transpired. I'm not going to pretend that I don't know or don't care."

"I see." Iruka looked down, gathering his composure and resigning himself to this impromptu meeting. Short of being rude or fabricating some outlandish story, there was no real way to avoid this. "Would you like to come in?"

"Thank you." Shibi stepped in, glancing around at the somewhat bare living area. Iruka had been living here for at least a couple of years, by his estimate. Odd that he hadn't seemed to have made himself at home. There were no personal items displayed; he had acquired only the barest of necessities. "May I be frank?"

Iruka gestured for his visitor to sit, nodding with no small measure of dread.

"Your situation has come to my attention again, Iruka. Again. I don't know what this thing is between you and Touji. You seem to be a willing participant. But let me give you some advice. People do pay attention, and they do see things, especially when one of the participants is indiscreet. This sort of thing can be damaging to your reputation and your career. I guarantee you, Mizuki knows it. If nothing else, his disregard for your reputation is inexcusable. My concern is that you seem to trust him, Iruka. I ask you, what is your basis for this trust? Because you've obviously trusted him with your integrity, and he's trashing it before your eyes. I just don't know if you see it."

Tired and tenderized by the hours of relentless 'love' following their violent fight, Iruka heard every word as the truth. But still, his loyalty to his ersatz family of one was impossible to cast off. It was not ideal, but it was still a relationship, truly the only enduring one he had. It was a little harmful, sure, but he was tough, and the harmful part was only a part. Kind of like it was the price he had to pay for it.

It left him silent in the face of Shibi's words.

"You know all of this I'm sure, Iruka-kun. So please answer. How do you manage to hold him in any form of respect?"

Iruka cleared his throat. This was different than his prior interactions with Shibi; this time the man was speaking as though they were equals. He felt compelled to explain, but came up short. He couldn't explain the unexplainable.

"I just do, Aburame-sama. We have been there for each other since the Kyuubi attack. We are like family."

"Family." Shibi shook his head. "I want you to understand why I'm here. I wanted to tell you that I'm taking my concerns to the Hokage. Sarutobi-sama will…"

"Don't! I…I don't want to disappoint him. He was so incredibly kind when I was injured. To tell him of my shortcomings now…it would mock his good intentions!"

"No. No, Iruka, you misunderstand his ways. He won't see you as failing his expectations. He'll see this as an opportunity to help you. He's very, very fond of you."

"But, I don't really need help. I guess, like you say, I just need to be more discreet. I can do that, just give me a chance. I just received my acceptance to promote to sensei full-time at the Academy. Please don't do anything to harm that. Compared to that, this isn't important; I don't know why you have to be so concerned with it. It's nothing."

Iruka's hand reached out in a pleading gesture, and Shibi caught it in a gentle grasp.

"Iruka-kun, in all my years, I have met many people. So many, and yet, there is something so unique about you, I wonder sometimes if you are of Leaf at all. I do understand how our Hokage feels, even if you don't. I would be doing him a disloyalty if I held this information from him."

Iruka pulled back. "But…what information? What is it that you think you know?"

"No games, please. We both know you've been healed recently, more than once, at Mizuki's apartment. I know there was blood carelessly spilled. I know it wasn't his blood, not a drop of it."

Iruka's hand clamped over his mouth and he looked down, trying to think of something to say to make it all better. But his mind was on overload and his body was weary from the recent events. The senior jounin was clearly determined to make an issue of this, and nothing he said had helped the man to see it in his perspective. It was just background noise in his life, really. It was no big deal – until someone like Shibi threatened to elevate it.

"You aren't well. Perhaps a trip to the infirmary…"

Iruka shook his head hard.

"I just…just need some rest, is all. I'm fine. With respect, I am being honest when I tell you this is nothing."

The bug jounin reached out, and watched the automatic flinch as his hand came to rest on Iruka's shoulder. "I can stay for a bit. Why don't you lie down and rest, and I'll stay to make sure that you're not disturbed?"

"No, thank you, but no, that's not necessary. No one will bother me." Striving to be polite, he couldn't help being a little defensive. It was mortifying that the jounin was offering to babysit him. Did he really think he was so helpless?

"You seem so certain of all this. Do you realize that this is not within the normal bounds of a relationship?"

Iruka twisted inside with those words. Now that issue was the one he feared to have brought out into the daylight the most – his own strange behaviors in the context of their liaisons. That was where the darkest boundaries were being crossed, and for that he was fully responsible. They were going to see through him, see his sickness, and find him unfit even for teaching. He had to derail this misguided attempt of help.

"My relationship is private, what I do there isn't something everyone is supposed to know. If it's different than what others do, what harm is that to you?"

"It's not a harm to me, Iruka-kun. It's harming you, and you're determined to allow it. That's the problem."

"I'm fine. You can see that. Look at me. The only thing I'm upset about right now is your threat to make a bad report about me to the Sandaime."

"So stubborn! This isn't about bad reports! It's too late to hide this from me, I have already made the discovery. You should know, here and now, that I am not going to remain silent forever. If I see anything more of this, I will not be mollified again!" Frustrated, the bug jounin gave Iruka a very serious look. "And don't think you've fooled me. The facts are clear: he injured you – again – and you're covering up for him. This is the last time. I see this again – I'm taking this forward. You need to rethink your actions, Iruka-kun, and your reasons for this unhealthy co-dependence. There is no value in your role as an enabler for him, either. Things like this escalate. It will end badly if you don't put a stop to it yourself."

Iruka nodded, smart enough to know that any argument would only make things worse. He waited, standing, until his guest finally reached the end of his patience.

"You must take care of yourself now, Iruka-sensei. You are a man, a teacher, a role model. You can't be the lost orphan boy anymore. You can't afford to let your past continue to sabotage your future. Come to me and we can talk this out, any time. My door is always open to you - as a friend."

He walked his guest out to make a formal goodbye. When he closed and sealed the door, he barely made it to the futon before dropping in exhaustion. The older man was overreacting so severely – he must be insulated from the realities of life for Iruka's generation. Violence and infighting between friends and lovers just happened, it happened all the time, on missions, in the bars, hell, he'd seen two of the duty captains beat each other bloody on the sparring grounds near the Academy just last week over some dispute about shift changes. He hadn't given it much notice at all – the men were best friends, before and after. Shibi was just not up to date with the way things were.

But that didn't help Iruka now. If the Aburame was that far out of touch with the current norm, then he could only figure the much older, far more inaccessible and insulated Hokage would have an even worse reaction. And that reaction was one he truly cared about for many reasons, not just for his career and reputation, although he didn't really admit that, even to himself.

His body was failing him in his effort to just take a moment to regroup and hop back up. Mizuki had gone so very far this time, and the healing was not as complete as it should have been. With little other option, he gave in and focused on calming himself, shifting into a meditative state that would hasten his recovery. Any serious contemplation regarding what would best address this unwanted intervention was going to have to wait until later.

Shibi detected the slight rise in distress levels and waited for the ragged chakra pattern to even out before walking away from the doorstep. Iruka was getting to be too old to be needing this kind of intervention. If he couldn't be reached soon, his future was in serious question.

xxxx

"So, as we have suspected," Sandaime said, sipping his tea reflectively after reading Shibi's confidential note aloud, "this disturbing tendency is rooting, perhaps deeply. Touji is becoming entrenched. You saw this coming, Hayate-kun. I am a little surprised that one such as an Aburame felt moved to report on this, if only informally. If I didn't know better, I'd say we'd become a bunch of gossiping old hens."

"Your Hokageship, with respect, this is beyond the usual who-did-what-with-whom storytelling."

"I know, I know, I'm just making light of a very dark situation. This situation is as delicate as it is troubling. The very best results would come from Iruka's realization that it is not in his best interest to continue to play victim to Mizuki. But he has defended him against any and all accusation."

"It's a question of loyalty for him, I think."

"Well. Then he needs some perspective on the true nature of that very important element of life. Perhaps if he is exposed to it on a larger scale. I have an idea, tell me what you think. I propose a second shift for our stubborn young man. He can man the mission desk after school hours, just a few days a week at first. It will force him into deeper interaction with every type of nin we have, give him more to observe, broaden his social experience. And it will give him that much less free time to be spending with certain unsavory elements."

"Brilliant idea!" Hayate raised his cup in a salute. "I wish I had thought of it."

"We shall see if it's brilliant or not," the old man smiled, nodding in thanks for his confidante's enthusiastic approval. "But for now, we'll try it. Make the adjustments to the mission desk roster and notify Umino. Mind how you schedule him, now. Start him out with the regular men, not with someone doing shifts as punishment. The sooner, the better."

He watched Hayate head out, and turned to gaze out the window, observing the relatively peaceful activity on the streets. This man had been a good choice for his confidential assistant; his appointment to this task had been of great benefit to both of them when Gekko's physical problems had been deemed chronic and incurable. It had redirected the shinobi's potential distress at the loss of mission work into pride and confidence at being trusted with Hokage-level secrets. He had his other duties at the Academy to busy him as well, selected specifically so that he was easily substituted for during his bad spells.

All things considered, it had made for the best thing that could have happened to him, given his bad situation. Hayate was excellent company and flawlessly trustworthy in keeping secrets; the Sandaime found him to be indispensable on many levels.

A Hokage should have great affection for all of his people; the Third's was amplified even more by his sympathy over their loss of the beloved Fourth Hokage far too soon. But a handful just got under his skin, and he shamelessly loved them as much as any of his family members. Despite the great irritation it caused some of his blood relatives, he was not inclined to change that. It had enriched his life far too much, and he didn't think he would be very successful at directing a cold shoulder at those he had an affinity for anyway.

Hayate was one such person, and Iruka was another; he would always hold them in warm regard, and take a little more interest in their well-being. Besides, as the leader of the village, he had the right to play favorites if he pleased.

xxxx

Iruka found himself filling in for Izumo as second chair on the mission desk. He'd been nervous; it was his first time working the desk. The surly elites had been lined up all afternoon, turning in work they impatiently wanted him to just stamp in, while he panicked inwardly trying to verify the documentation quickly and accurately. Kotetsu had been working the other end of the counter almost mechanically. When the lines would thin and they'd have enough of a break to talk, Ko would lament at Zoom's late return, worrying relentlessly.

Ko was up front cleaning off the counter after locking the door. Iruka wandered to the back room with the armload of scrolls from the day to sort and lock up. His attention was within, his mind going over the exchanges during his shift in a critical review of his performance. He wondered how many stupid mistakes he had made in front of the seasoned veterans that he wasn't even aware of; with a shake of his head at the embarrassing possibilities, he started back forward to the counter to ask what Ko had thought of his work and stopped short.

Apparently, Izumo had returned, and Kotetsu had let him in. Letting him file his report after hours as a favor, Iruka supposed from the glimpse he got before turning back to do as he had been told. He returned to his task of separating and securing the reports, concentrating to remember the single lesson he'd had on the procedure earlier. Things fell into place as he progressed, and he gained a bit of confidence, it seemed that he was getting this right on the first try. The faint conversation between the two men was drifting in and out of his awareness, background noise he politely avoided tuning in to.

When he placed the last scroll in the proper casing and locked the cabinet, Iruka heard something odd. Izumo and Kotetsu had been arguing about something earlier, and it had given Iruka a queasy feeling. But their voices had then grown quieter now, and in Iruka's experience, that meant all was well.

When he stepped forward, he was shocked, and drew back before inching forward to peer from the alcove.

Izumo was nearly nude. That, alone, was not all that shocking – because he was having his wounds treated. He had a long, red welt down his back, and several obviously new, roughly-healed kunai-type injuries.

But it was the manner in which Kotetsu was treating them that seemed to freeze and shatter something in Iruka's brain.

Gentle hands were healing, massaging, roaming in obviously welcome molestation. Ko was taking as much time to pleasure the wounded man as he was to heal him. His words were surreal. Iruka had to shake his head to take them in properly. All the while, he was using such a comforting tone of voice, telling Izumo how worried he had been, and how well he was going to take care of him. He forced him to wait until all of the healing was done before allowing any reciprocation. He took away his pain. And then he gave only pleasure and comfort, and received much the same in return. They made love in the midst of it, in the same manner. There was no blood, no force. Like some pervert, Iruka had applied a concealment to himself to make sure he could witness this strange phenomenon, every bit of it. Where had they learned this? They were as kind to one another as one would be if indulging a child.

When they were lying close together afterward, Ko was nuzzling and fondling Izumo, blissful in relief that his overdue mission hadn't turned out worse. The mission desk counter was never going to look the same to him again, Iruka had decided. He was dazed and unable to understand how they managed to have picked and chosen just the 'nice' parts for this encounter. There were no sores, no marks, no bleeding or bitten tongues.

It brought back a memory of Mizuki being kind and caring, when they were just friends, spending the night by the river...and a cold chill in his chest that he had to shake off. As soon as it formed in his mind he swept it away again, in order to pay attention.

There had been no healing necessary after their union at all. In fact, the very act seemed to have a healing quality of its own.

It flew in the face of everything he knew to be true; it contradicted things he never thought of before, because they just were the way they were, like any fact of life.

"Iruka never left," Ko said suddenly. He jumped to a very bad conclusion, and flared out his chakra hard, uncovering their peeping tom in his tracks.

"Iruka?" Izumo asked. Kotetsu threw his shirt over his partner and stood in front of him, as if to protect him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Ko demanded. He stepped toward Iruka with clenched fists. But when he caught sight of the scarred face, it set him aback. This wasn't the expression of some guilty voyeur or aroused lecher. The look was more stunned and ill. Ko rethought his assumptions. He had disregarded Iruka's presence in his relief at having Zoom back in one piece, and then got caught up in being distraught that he had been injured. Iruka had been faced with their indiscretion, and he obviously hadn't stuck around because he enjoyed it.

"It…I was in the back. Then…I just was waiting for you to go so I could leave."

Izumo had rolled off the counter and clumsily pulled on his pants, nodding for Kotetsu to do the same. If Iruka was truly upset, he might complain and get them some annoying lecture from the Hokage. They were the ones who had broken the rules, although it was just a minor infraction.

And he did look truly upset, almost ridiculously so.

"Hey, Iruka," Izumo said with a hopeful smile. "Sorry man. We just get a little carried away. No big. Right?"

Iruka was kneading his hands, shaking his head slightly.

Kotetsu put an arm around Izumo to make sure he was steady on his feet.

"No blood?" Iruka breathed to himself, seeing that the area was free of any sign of it.

"What? Are you feeling all right?" Izumo asked.

"Fine! I'm sorry, I didn't remind you I was here."

"No, no problem, don't worry about it. Just our little secret, right? No need to take this up with anyone else."

"Yeah. No need."

"Go on, then, man, we've already locked up."

Iruka staggered off into the dark, a stunning lesson for his first day on the desk under his belt, a folder of homework to correct under his arm, an early start at the Academy looming in the morning…and regrets to express to Mizuki, because they would not be getting together tonight after all.

It was the first of many nights he would have to stand Mizuki up for his new workload.

o0o0o0o0o0o

Iruka leaned on the counter and pointed with a regretful shake of his head. He felt the chakra rising, but he was sure of himself on this one.

"Listen, Iruka-kun, I have been doing this for a very long time. I don't think one so wet behind the ears should be making any suggestions about the content of my report." Chouza growled, slamming a beefy hand down on his paperwork.

"But you didn't give the quantity. I heard you telling one of the jounin that you brought in twice the weaponry you were tasked with on the scroll."

"I never quantify! It's not required! It's not an error, how dare you…" the huge shinobi roared.

"Please, wait! Hear me out! I am not calling it an error. But just marking the retrieval a success will lead to a lesser payment for the village, and a lower ranking for the mission than it deserves. If you include the numbers to show that you secured double the items, the contractor will be forced either to pay more, or only take that which he has paid for, and Konoha will retain the extra for their arsenal; and exceeding the goal by so much will result in a mission rating of superior performance. This is to benefit you and the village, Akimichi-sama, I must humbly insist that you reconsider." Iruka looked the enraged senior jounin in the eyes without flinching and did not back down. He knew he was correct. And it was his job to see to it that the mission reports were accurate, legible, and in some cases, properly documented with pertinent details.

The large, reddened face paused, and the narrowed eyes dropped a little. His missions went well enough, but he had been running a little side bet with a couple of his contemporaries, and while their numbers were quite close, he was just slightly behind. A superior rating, with extra profit, would boost him into the lead. No one had pointed out this aspect of the report writing to him before.

"So, in the case of exceeding specifications, quantifying in the report can increase Konoha's profit?" he asked, reluctantly seeing the sense of it.

"Yes, yes, I have assisted with the ledger before, there is no doubt."

"You are still impertinent, but I do see your point. Ai, now I must rewrite so much! This will take too long!"

"No, no, your report is fully complete, that would not be necessary. Unless, you'd prefer to put it in the body of your mission outline; I can understand if you would prefer to."

"I have better things to do that re-write fully written mission reports!"

"Then if you would just add the details below in the inventory…"

Chouza frowned even more, because he, like so many of the jounin, rarely filled out the inventory of the take, but instead wrote "as per assigned" or left it blank. He felt a little annoyed that the obvious answer had to be pointed out to him in this way.

"All right. Just to stop you from being a noisy brat." He snatched the pen and completed the form with a few easy strokes. He looked at it for a moment, and then sighed hard. "They certainly gave you the right job, didn't they? Here."

Iruka took the report scroll with a polite bow of thanks, stamped it in, signed off, and placed it in the completed bin.

"Don't lose that one now," the large nin scolded as he rumbled out of the room.

Iruka took the next report, from a chunin from his old class, and checked it over, having them date it in the spots they'd missed, but otherwise finding it to be fine. When he placed it in the bin, there was a lull in the incoming traffic.

Izumo laughed at him quietly. Watching Iruka settle into the mission desk job over the last few weeks had been fascinating, and it still was.

"You're not on commission here, Iruka. You just about paid for that little inventory correction with your butt."

He waved a hand in dismissal. "He was just a little annoyed. But he's serious about his work. I knew he would want his mission to be reported correctly."

"You're brave or dumb, and I do not want to know which. Not many would stand there so calmly and look an angry Akimichi right in the face, and just keep right on talking."

Iruka puzzled at that. He almost said something, but silenced himself. He had seen much angrier looks on Mizuki; he knew from hard experience when someone was just angry, and when they were about to lose control, and the jounin had simply been angry. If seeing anger upset him so much, he would have had one heck of a time maintaining their relationship.

His mind wandered a little. Those enraged exchanges with Mizuki did make it difficult at times. Others would not find it tolerable? They were shinobi, men with strong opinions and fiery temperaments; what sort of wimp would make that an important factor between two people?

Izumo, for one, apparently. From what he'd seen, Izumo and Kotetsu were considerate of each other, and he guessed further that they were most of the time. They were in the process of trying to get permanent duty as the gatekeeping team. That further confounded Iruka. They would be together all the time if they did that. As a team, maybe…but as a couple? When would they be able to get away from one another when…when…

When what? If they were so good together, why would they need to get away?

Ah, such a strange relationship concept made his head throb. It was getting late, and before long Ko would be wandering in to help them finish up so they could close the desk on time. He didn't have to, but when he wasn't on another assignment he did it as a favor. At first, Iruka had thought it was a subtle way of controlling Izumo, to hurry him along, to give him no other option than to come immediately with Ko when his shift was over.

But it wasn't that way at all; He'd seen Ko finish Izumo's shift for him so that he could go pay a visit to a friend in the infirmary. They did helpful things for one another that did not always have an immediate pay-off for the one who extended the favor.

He had made that assumption, because if Mizuki had been coming to help close up the mission room, it would have been a control issue. Iruka had no doubt. And when he really thought about it…he kind of resented it. Which, he told himself, was completely unfair: the platinum-haired shinobi hadn't even visited the mission desk during his assigned time. He was resenting Mizuki for things he'd only imagined that he would do.

But the little seed of resentment at the feeling of being controlled had already been planted. It lingered in the edge of his awareness now whenever he saw the future gatekeepers synch so well together.

o0o0o0o

Iruka was not alone when it came to resentment; in fact he was running a poor second to his other half.

Mizuki had been effectively cut off from spending time with Iruka; they saw one another briefly at the Academy, but Mizuki declined to socialize there anymore. Rumors began to surface that the two were no longer an item within days.

The gossip actually pleased the platinum-haired shinobi. His reconsideration for sensei was up for vote again, and he strongly suspected the Third had been deciding against him in order drive a wedge between him and Iruka. He'd managed, for once, to go three entire months without a reprimand or negative review. It was put up or shut up time for the old man. They would have to go public with the fact that they had been blackballing him, or they'd have to promote him this time.

It didn't take another week before his approval came through. He was to be in a probationary period due to the prior rejection, but other than that, he was once again on equal footing with Iruka. They'd given him several extracurricular programs to work at, and he suspected rightly that it was meant to keep him busy and isolated from certain people. That was all right. A little absence, and abstinence, would make the heart grow fonder on both sides.

And besides – he had a lot of work to do himself. Things he could only do alone.

On the rare free afternoon, he set out on a hike beyond the village walls, out beyond the borders of Konoha, clear to the very edge of Fire Country. There he found the cave again, just as he had left it. He spent a few hours tidying it up, adding the contents of his stuffed rucksack to the array of stolen lab equipment already set up in an impressive display.

It would take many more visits and a lot more work to get this place up to speed. He hoped to establish reasonable living quarters here, as well as a fortress to protect them while he did his research.

If Iruka was otherwise occupied with his tasks, then so be it. He would come along when the time was right. For now, Mizuki decide to continue to keep this place secret, even from Iruka. It just couldn't be helped.

With Iruka so dedicated to teaching children, Mizuki was strongly considering an action to address that. A child or two might come in handy when they needed to go unchallenged into inhabited areas, and in obligating Iruka to stay close and behave. They would have to be natural offspring; Iruka would never stand for an abduction. The mother could be an asset, in the beginning anyway.

He already had a female in mind. A kunoichi named Tsubaki had been sniffing around him and while he was not interested in her in romantically, the potential for her use sent his mind spinning. She could bear those children later; for now, she would bring him income, and create an excellent diversion to draw the public eye away from his true romantic obsession. With proper handling, her value could be incredible.

He saw no reason why he couldn't have them both.

When he returned from working on his secret project, he came back to the village early enough to seek out Tsubaki and take her out for a drink.

He turned on the charm and watched in warm confidence as she drank it up, big dark eyes nearly as vulnerable as his true love's. His plans were inching forward, growing much like the affection he saw softening her smile as she moved closer and let him steal a chaste kiss.

He laughed with her as she confessed that she had been worried, since rumor had it he was taken. He reassured her and let the evening end there at the bar with one last hug and kiss, feigning the need to take care of some task. It left her hanging, as he knew it would, when he walked away instead of pushing for something more. He let the momentum swing his way, feeling her eyes on his back as he headed for the door to go home.

Iruka had been apologizing a lot lately for being unavailable. Mizuki relished the idea of making him truly sorry for neglecting him. All in the game, he thought, letting himself into his quiet apartment. If anyone thought he wasn't playing it to win, they were sadly mistaken.

tbc