A Place to Belong (Naruto, Kakashi/Iruka)

The forest floor was littered with fallen leaves, scattered by battle. Blood dripped from above. Iruka couldn’t move. He couldn’t see where the blood was coming from or whose it was. It could be his own, dripping from one of the tree limbs he’d crashed into earlier. He didn’t want to think about who else it could belong to but his mind supplied the images anyways – Sakuya missing an arm, hanging upside down from a tree with his face shredded; Mika, mouth frozen open in a scream as a tree limb skewered her from behind. He should be dead like they were. He would be soon.

The noise of battle was like a fly’s nagging buzz, keeping him from slipping into oblivion. They’d been ambushed. He’d heard a child crying. He’d rushed in, sprung the trap. The trees had come alive and attacked them, killing Mika before the enemy nin had a chance to. Sakuya hadn’t been so lucky. Their team leader, Hatake Kakashi, had arrived before the enemy could do the same to Iruka. Small blessings. Infinitesimally small. Kakashi had sent one of his dogs for help, though he didn’t seem to need it.

Iruka had always respected Kakashi. He’d nearly had a heart attack when he’d learned that Kakashi was leading them on this mission, certain that he was going to screw up. He had, but a heart attack wouldn’t be what killed him. Rapid blood loss was the current high contender, followed closely by collateral damage from the ongoing fight. His vision was getting blurry but he thought two more green-clad ninja had joined to fight the ones in black. It was hard to tell. All he could see was Kakashi.

The man was a legend among the village, and Iruka now knew why. He was perfect. Fluid, graceful, powerful, deadly. The enemy didn’t stand a chance. Iruka knew he should be horrified but he couldn’t look away, not even when Kakashi’s hand went through one of the enemy ninja, creating a plate-sized hole in the man’s chest. A drop of blood landed on Iruka’s cheek and rolled down, tracing a path parallel to where his tears had fallen earlier. He was out of tears for now but he could still feel them staining his cheeks, marks of his own weakness.

It was getting harder to see the fight. More figures joined in, occasionally stepping between him and Kakashi, blocking his view. He sensed someone kneel next to him, felt the faint disturbance their chakra made as it came close and attempted to identify friend or foe. He was too drained to get more than a vague sense of presence. Something moved in front of his face – a hand, likely – but he couldn’t blink. His eyes were frozen straight ahead, pointed towards Kakashi.

He wondered if they thought he was dead.