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Hound.
Rumors about an entity that rampaged the land of the living - a flustered God severely angered by the sinful activities of man - leaving only dust and ash in its wake, and destruction. They say he kills without hesitation: Turns without ever looking back. Cruel, inhumane, and for a long time had been used as a legend to keep pesky children in line, or who knows who they’ll find if they wander away from their parents?
They were only half right. It wasn’t always children.
Hound didn’t know when he became desensitized by it all: the bloodshed, the blood curdling screams, dreams of shadowed figures coming at him from all angles asking him the simple question, Why?
Hound never answered: instead flicking his weapon and gutting them like he did back then. Quick and painless.
Hound didn’t always sleep alone. He found an interesting outlet in the form of plenty of woman waiting to be ravished by a man with a hefty salary; however rough or disgusting. Hound wasn’t really into that stuff; he did his business as quickly as he could possible, and moved on before they could wake up, possibly back to his next mission nearby, which would later be news around the village.
Did you hear about that family who was found dead in their home? The papers said it was suicide! The kid had walked in. Hound had no choice.
Hound knew he was already in the deep end; The Sandaime had told him this outright yet never really took drastic action to stop it, not again.
Because Hound was a tool, he was the best of the best, and they needed him there to make sure the success of a mission. He never questioned it. He never fought it. He was, afterall, doing what he did best.
Everything changed after he is assigned as a lead to a mission including three jounin and two relatively new chuunin.
Hound starts the day at the red light district. And is packed relatively quick by sun down. Meets the group thirty minutes late, who only minutes ago had been questioning the anbu’s tardiness, and now none of them said a word.
***
Hound meets Umino Iruka.
Well, that wasn’t quite right. He’s known of him. Not only from the research he did the day he found out about the assigned mission; he wasn’t going to go without knowing the strengths and weaknesses of all his underlings. Hound knew of Iruka long before, a simple child howling up a storm in the hokage’s chambers, more often than not in trouble by his latest prank of destruction that even the hokage was sometimes victim to. Hound never understood this child, despite being a child himself back then. No, that wasn’t right either, Hound hadn’t been a child for a very long time.
Umino Iruka was 18 now. Two years younger than him. He was a tad short with a relatively average build. He looked like the most nervous, jumpy person Hound had ever met, though to be fair not a lot of people were comfortable in his attendance. Iruka would probably even get lost in the street mistaken for a simple civilian, if not for the long scar across his nose.
He was also parentless, like Hound.
There’s an explosion, and the team was separated. Hound knew instantly that it was a man-triggered bomb, which meant they had visitors. He sensed two people in his peripherals. A third right in front of him. He pulls out his katana and kills all three of them.
He doesn’t notice the fourth, until the drastically younger enemy shinobi is right in front of him. Hound is ready to pounce, with a simple flick of his weapon, he’d be able to stop the attack and behead her. Only he’s forced to halt when something gets in the way: the back of a familiar flak jacket. Hound barely misses Iruka’s neck and cuts a few pieces of his ponytail instead.
Umino Iruka is the only casualty.
Settled in the latest camp, Iruka doesn’t join them. No one really notices over the swift conversation that really doesn’t matter to him. And they don’t say anything when the anbu leaves to search for the man who said he was washing up hours ago. The gossip started once again, specifically about the ruthless anbu.
Iruka is staring into the pond, hair cascading just above his shoulders, a light blanket wrapped around him. In place of his headband, was a long strip of bandages.
“I’m sorry,” he tells the presence who approaches him.
“Frankly, I should have known this was going to happen.” Hound’s voice was level, he knew he had screwed up too. Reminded of the words in his bingo book.
Umino’s emotional connection can be perceived as a strength and a weakness to the succession of a mission.
Iruka doesn’t say anything for a moment, then he says, “It’s not your fault.” His voice was quivering, barely there to the naked eye, but Hound was more perceptive to that.
Iruka was so humiliated already, his actions had caused a delay in the mission's completion after being forced to set up camp. He tried to argue that he was fine, that they could move forward, but Hound refused. And everyone listened to Hound.
Iruka could hear the other’s presence approaching and tensed. Hound, for some reason, did not try to hide his presence from him despite having done so for the entire mission. Iruka refused to look at him, not wanting him to see his watery eyes.
Not wanting to see the most emotionless man in the village see his emotions.
He’s going to kill me, thinks the outwardly calm, but terrified chuunin.
He heard the rumours since he was twelve about the cruel Hound. He’d expected to be pulled to the side and made an example of in front of all his colleagues, who had warned him to be careful the first day as they waited for the also surprisingly tardy anbu. If only he had listened, if only he hadn't gotten in the way-
His eyes snap open as he feels his chin grabbed and forced to the side, a headband tied over his eyes, and feels a pair of lips over his own, swallowing him down a rabbit hole he’d never expected for himself.
Hound finds a whole new muse of pleasure by fucking the inexperienced chuunin who surprisingly catches on rather quickly, moans and screams muzzled by his gloved hands, and then his own when Hound roams his rest of his body leaving no part of him untouched.
And the next day when they’re forced to act like everything was normal, when just moments before their limbs were mingled in a hefty entanglement in Hound’s empty tents where they’d gone another round. Iruka didn’t talk the whole way, barely even looked at him when everyone gathered.
No one questioned it.
Hound remembers how exhausted the chuunin looked the first time he came, hair curled in his face and around him, breathing normally despite himself. Hound called out his name, “Umino,” and Iruka raised his hand weakly to show that he was fine. It was the first time he cared enough to make sure. And so he continued.
The others don’t notice, but Hound who takes on the rear position sees the slight limp in Umino Iruka’s position, and feels a sense of satisfaction in his actions. A feeling in the deep of his chest, that almost distracted him for a moment before he realizes they’re being watched and quickly takes control of the situation. By the end of it, he walks away without a scratch and dawns his eyes on the shocked company who were waiting for him.
Iruka was looking back at him with feeling.
When they got back to the village, Iruka was quick to blame himself and not the insolence of the anbu squad leader who had moments before taken full responsibility of Iruka's injuries. The sandaime scolds Iruka for the moment, then questions Hound when he dismisses him.
“It is not like you to mess up, Kakashi,” The sandaime tells him when they’re alone, with Ox and Boar the only ones in company, “Do better next time.”
Hound no longer visits the red light district, instead, the extra time is spent following the chuunin around in the neighborhood. Umino is well known, and well-liked in the community. Every interaction is met with a smile that was later in his dreams, during solo missions where he had nothing to do, but think about the way the chuunins hips moved against the thrusts of his own. He dreams of being pulled into a solid hold, sweat intermingling, breaths outspoken. And he’d be crying, “Kakashi, Kakashi, Kakashi!” over and over and over until Hound no longer exists to the world.
The next mission he comes back from, Iruka just passed the entrance exams, and becomes a student instructor at the shinobi academy. Hound is intrigued, but not surprised. It’s a fine profession, for someone as fine as Iruka. It’s perfect. Because he has the will of fire. Because he knows he could do it. Because his existence had the power to change people.
Hound resigns from active duty.
The rumours eventually stop.
Years pass and Kakashi gains a squad that consists of a fiery pink-haired kunoichi, a stoic mess of an emotionless child very similar to himself, and the container of the Kyuubi - someone who Umino Iruka is really close to. And the more Naruto is coaxed to talk about his sensei over free bowls of ramen, the more his obsession grows.
Kakashi is obsessed.
Iruka tells him to go to hell.
He’s angry, upset, face red with fury. His fists balled up like he could punch one of them. “Naruto is nothing like you!” He yells at Kakashi, the only one who challenges his incessant, possibly unhealthy tie to his students, previous students as Kakashi so pointed out.
Iruka is shocked, but eventually finds they are more ready than he initially assumes. He comes back to apologize, but Kakashi doesn’t let him.
Because he saw a side of Iruka he’s never seen before, and for a moment, for that tiny little moment, he stopped breathing.
Iruka has a date when he comes back from his next mission. Over the years Kakashi had successfully been able to ward every pursuer away, but doesn’t expect him to say yes to a rambling idiot whose stories of woe were 100% bulls and his scrawny arms probably unable to reach Iruka the level of pleasure he honestly deserves. Hagara-sensei is undeserving as a man like Umino Iruka, and Kakashi 100% refuses to let it happen under his watch.
Iruka is crushed when he is stood up for the fifth time in a row.
He wonders what he must have done in his life to have someone say they like you one day, then completely ignore your existence the next. Iruka wasn’t the usual person to pursue people, more often than not busy with academy activities and his two other jobs, but he couldn’t lie there were days that were so lonely he couldn’t bare it.
Yet sometimes he felt like someone was watching him, like he was being observed from top to bottom, as if all his actions were being scrutinized or embellished, as if sometimes someone was laughing at him when he tripped or was silently edging him on when he was troubled.
He didn’t know why Kakashi made him feel like that. The rumors surrounding Konoha’s copy ninja, not to mention, unfortunately, Naruto’s teacher. Nights filled with stories of the perverted sensei who read filthy novels in front of students, and whose hair defied all gravity.
There were also rumors he was former anbu.
Anbu. Like Hound.
He remembered that day like it was yesterday.
Perhaps it was his inexperience with being that close to another body than he had ever had before, or maybe it was the taste of those soft lips to his own, uncharacteristic of the childhood rumors he heard about the cold child killer. And the great care he took in making sure Iruka felt good. Iruka remembered a lot about that anbu, the smell of pine as his nose was so deep within his neck, the bump of his chest across the grove of his back as he held him close - the feel of his-
“-Iruka-sensei.”
Iruka woke up again, looking over at the presence which joined him at his table. Despite not hiding his presence, Iruka hadn’t realized Kakashi had been standing there for about two minutes.
“Kakashi-sensei,” he quickly stood up, “Is everything alright?”
“Maa, I should be asking you that.” Kakashi waved him off, “Can I sit down?”
“Huh… oh, of course! Take a seat!” He was quick to wave the seat in front of him and plopped back down when the jounin did so, “I don’t really intend to stay long though…” He watched the jounin as he reached for the menu and glanced back at him through his one eye.
“Neither do I~” Something in his tone was suggestive.
Iruka didn’t think it was possible.
His whole body warmed up, but Kakashi seemed positively ignorant to the academy teacher's current dilemma. At least he looked like he wasn’t anyway.
“Meeting someone, sensei?”
“Um, no,” Iruka said hesitantly, not knowing how upfront he could be with the jounin, “Actually I had a date.” He decided to be honest instead, wondering if Kakashi had ever been in such a position (but given how he looked under his mask which Iruka got a short glance of when the man took a sip of water, it was most probably the other way around.) “But he didn’t show up.”
“Oh?” Kakashi asked, his tone unregisterable, “That sucks.”
Iruka was starting to regret saying anything. He puffed up in embarrassment.
“How many relationships have you had, sensei?” Iruka was surprised at his next question but felt that he already overshared.
“You first….”
Iruka was smart, Kakashi didn’t doubt that.
“None,” Kakashi replied, putting down the menu that he really didn’t care for and folding his hands together under his chin. Iruka looked shocked, and didn’t believe him, “I mean no relationships, nothing more that spanned more than a couple of hours.”
The jounin was bragging, Iruka thought to himself.
“Your turn sensei.”
Iruka went red, again embarrassed by his lack of inexperience, “Two…” he mumbled under his breath, “But one of them doesn’t count.”
“Two…” Kakashi was actually surprised, and maybe a little jealous. He’d been on missions long enough for the sensei to probably even have his own love child without him knowing, “Do tell.”
“Sorry, I don’t really feel comfortable talking about this here.”
“Care to change the venue then, sensei?” Iruka wondered why he was so curious about his life, he also wondered why he stood and followed the jounin out without saying anything.
***
“And then he told me he had a fiancé,” Iruka finished, grimacing while telling the story, “Let me tell you, I’ve never wanted to strangle a man more than I did that day.”
“What an idiot,” Kakashi echoed, and meant his words. If he’d known such a man previously, he would have definitely went missing by accident.
“I know right?” Iruka was slightly huffy, pressing the tea cup over his lips, the warmth enveloping him, “You know you’re the first one I told about this. I couldn’t ever talk about it with anyone.”
“I mean you could have ruined his life with a story like that.”
“I could have but… I was humiliated,” he gripped his cup a little tighter to himself, “And truth be told, I’m not really one for messing with people’s livelihood like that. Mizuki was happy and that’s what mattered.”
“Glad you’re not a home wrecker, sensei.”
Iruka flushes once again, and drinks the tea he made.
Kakashi waited for another moment, enjoying his own hot beverage, though not really concentrated on the taste, “And your second?”
Iruka had paused at that.
As more time went on, Kakashi didn’t know if Iruka was going to talk. Perhaps he was pressuring the sensei a little more than he should, he’d already gathered a lot of information that he never knew before. The sensei was both simple and also an enigma all by himself.
“Would you believe me if I said I was in love with an anbu?”
Before Iruka could say anything else, his lips were taken as he was pressed back against the couch. Shocked, it took a few moments before registering the shockingly familiar presence.
Iruka cried his name like perfection before quickly catching on to his own desires; kissing back just as sloppy and furiously as he did back then as the inexperienced chuunin who caught the terrifying, electrifying attention of such a ruthless, emotionless, child-killing, egotistical, obsessed, frustrating, desirable, attractive, gentle, caring man.
That was, Kakashi Hatake.