Categories > Anime/Manga > Naruto
Vicious Cycles Make You Laugh
5 reviewsHe wonders if Naruto has discovered what a liar he is. He thinks about Orochimaru's new redblack eyes and wish-it-wasn't-familiar smirk and decides he probably has.
0Unrated
vicious cycles make you laugh
-
-
-
Iruka has never liked the idea that shinobi are tools - things to be used, broken, and thrown away.
He has never liked the idea, but he knows that it is true. He is a teacher, and the people who make a ninja must understand what it is to be ninja the best of all. He knows knows knows, and it is a truth that lodges bitter-tasting - like solid vinegar - in his throat at the sight of every tortured genius who passes through his domain, at every memory of a beaming, ramen-gleaming grin that Naruto offered up to his trusted Iruka-sensei as a child, with every lie about friends and honor and trust that he spouts to a classroom of trusting faces.
Half-guilt, because they are better off not knowing for a while and he is preserving their innocence. Because they should be prepared. Because lying to them only ends up with crushed, cracked souls-not-souls and tired, bitter-like-vinegar eyes, and that is why he cannot tell them. He is to lie - is told to lie - so the product at the end of the factory line will always be the perfectly functioning tool it should be in the hands of the village.
All tools break eventually, and the higher-ups prefer it to be later rather than sooner. The month-year-decade it takes a ninja to soak in the blood of his own fresh, personal tragedy (of course every tragedy is tragic. Even if it's commonplace - because it isn't common knowledge. Iruka does his work so well, and every shinobi with a soul-not-soul falls into the same crude trap. i want them to have innocence. for as long as is possible. HAPPINESS LIKE I BARELY REMEMBER) gives them time. Gives them use and dead targets and money.
Lies and truth - swallowed, of course. He hates the truth and hates himself, and all he can do is sit at Ichiraku's and stare into space while his bowl steams and cools, congealing.
He wonders if Naruto has discovered what a liar he is. He thinks about Orochimaru's new redblack eyes and wish-it-wasn't-familiar smirk and decides he probably has.
He only leaves the ramen stand when the old man starts to clean up and send pointed yet kind looks his way. He does not go home - there is nothing to go home for, not even ungraded papers. He passes silently from rooftop to rooftop and lands silently in his usual clearing. Kunai appear in his hands from out of nowhere, and he throws them at a target with his eyes closed.
Thunk thunk thunk thunk thunk thunk thunk.
He opens his eyes (and his lids do not drag for a split-second - he has no problems with looking at life), already knowing they will all be perfectly on the mark.
They are.
He pulls his hitai-ite over his eyes (and there is not a sort of relief there - a half-thought of -one day my eyes will never see again - one day i will never lie again, or destroy someone mind/body/will on orders-) and starts a kata, smooth as aged sake and just as mind-numbing.
When he finishes, he is sweating and tired, but not tired enough to sleep without conscience. He takes a deep breath and lifts his forehead protector -
there is a flash of swirling redblack eyes and a wish-it-wasn't-familiar-smirk, and -
He is dreaming. It is the sort of dream that makes him think: this is real. this has always been and will always be real.
There is - a bed. He is warm and comfortable and aching pleasantly, and there is a body next to him. It groans as Iruka sits up, and he can't help but laugh as he presses kisses against the back of Kakashi's neck.
"Kakashi."
Another groan.
"Kakashi! Get up! You have a meeting with your squad in half an hour! You aren't going to be late, do you hear me?"
Silence, then -
Laughter rings throughout the bedroom as Kakashi twists and pounces on top of Iruka, pinning him. The teacher finds himself staring into one droopy eye, the Sharingan still closed, as his lover hums sleepily.
"Wha? Don' wanna get up. Wanna stay here. With you. Try out pg 174 of Icha Icha Violence?" Kakashi is suddenly alert and seductive, and Iruka is slightly tempted.
"Kakashi! You have responsibilities as an ANBU captain, you pervert!" But not tempted enough. "Again, you have a meeting in half an hour."
Kakashi peppers his throat with kisses. Iruka can feel the other man's pout against his neck. "But I want yooouuuu. I'm always late, anyway. They're used to it."
Iruka closes his eyes, trying not to succumb to the sight of Kakashi's beautiful, naked body. He is pure muscle and scars, and Iruka feels himself giving in. "No," he says weakly. Kakashi works his way down Iruka's body. "...No?"
Kakashi licks him, nibbling, and pulls a kunai out of the sheets with a waggle of his eyebrows. He looks a little ridiculous. Iruka laughs and tells him so.
Kakashi's grin is predatory. He traces the blade down Iruka's chest delicately and licks away the beading blood. Iruka's breath catches. "Mah, Iruka-sensei. You know you like it rough." Iruka opens his mouth to reply, and -
It is dark and he is in a clearing. His hands are pinned above his head, a kunai caught between the bones and holding them to the tree (vicious pain, but Iruka is used to such things; what he is not used to is being hopelessly incapacitated so easily, so quickly) and there is black hair brushing against his brow. He feels the ninja's wish-it-wasn't-familiar smirk against his cheek and hot breath against his ear. Not-Sasuke hisses, "You know you like it rough."
And there is a kunai dragging cutting slicing through the thick muscles of Iruka's chest and down, and he screams -
He moans as Kakashi pulls the cut apart with knowledgeable fingers. "Ka-Kakashi." The other man looks up, and his eyes are searing. Iruka swallows. "You're - you're going to have to do better than that."
Predatory smile again, and why does that make him uneasy? Something is wrong -
and coughs up blood. A lung has been nicked.
"Ah, little teacher. Full of surprises, aren't you? Your ultimate fantasy - the Copy-nin - and you still fight. How unexpectedly interesting." Pale, slim fingers cup his cheek, and Iruka is blind with pain and hatred. "I wonder... are you Hatake's weakness as well?"
And suddenly the pain is a minor afterthought to the idea of Not-Sasuke going after Kakashi-sensei. he can't know - doesn't know, and i can't bear to see him not-care when this too-strong fuck tries to make me part of a genjutsu - and what the fuck kind of genjutsu is this? doesn't matter. can't can't can't - "No!" It is a shallow whisper compared to the scream that he wants to let loose, but he is afraid and about to die and not willing to let his single self-indulgent, never-happened dream be killed. Kakashi can handle himself, but Iruka can't stop the thought of he-won't-care from sliding across his face. He tastes the metallic tang of his own blood on his tongue and wants it to end already.
Not-Sasuke has pulled back, eyeing him like a curator scrutinising a work of art, and he catches it. A delighted look appears in his redblack eyes. "Oh. How very delicious. Let's play a new game, shall we?"
Blood is pouring out of Iruka's wound; the guilty weapon is lying on the ground. Iruka flips it up with his foot and sends it straight at Not-Sasuke. The monster knocks it aside with a finger, of course, and then he leans in, chuckling darkly. "Pathetic, but that's okay. Everyone is, compared to me." He raises the same finger he blocked the kunai with, and it is - it is glowing. Glowing? And then it is pressed against Iruka's right cheekbone.
Iruka smells the acrid, familiar scent of burning flesh, and the world explodes into red before he can -
"Scream, Ruka. I want to hear you scream!" Sweat glistens on Kakashi's collarbone, and his chest expands erratically as he drags the whisper-sharp metal down Iruka's cheekbone.
"Fuck! Kakashi!" He moans, long and hard, and hears the catch in Kakashi's breath. He is desperate for his lover's cock, but he won't -
He can't see out of his right eye, and he wishes he couldn't see out of his left one. All his left one sees is Sasuke's mocking smirk. At least the Sharingan has retreated - back to yellow, and Iruka is glad.
He doesn't ask why me? or what the hell was that? or why haven't you killed me yet?
Orochimaru answers him anyway. "You are the Jinchuuriki's most important person. Tell me where he is."
They both know that he won't let Iruka live even if he does tell, and the only reason Iruka doesn't give in to the perverse desire to spill and get it over with is because he is shinobi - and shinobi don't break until they're broken. Friends and honor and trust are all fanciful dreams, and Iruka knows this. The truth lodges bitter-tasting in his throat. But: DON'T BREAK UNTIL I SAY YOU CAN, his jounin instructor barks, and Iruka is thirteen and bleeding all over and exhausted. YOU DON'T BREAK WITHOUT PERMISSION, GOT IT? So he doesn't break. So he doesn't break.
Iruka doesn't even have to voice his refusal. Orochimaru reads it in his blank blank blank eyes and in every tight line of agony on his face, and Iruka knows what the Sannin member is about to say. "I'll just have to try the Hatake brat next, won't I?" The Snake Master runs the glowing finger along Iruka's jaw lightly, and he blacks out from the overwhelming pain for a few seconds. "- don't know anyway. He'll be more fun than you, in any case."
And this is where Orochimaru has read Iruka wrong. Iruka stares at the tree across the clearing with those blank blank blank eyes and does not speak. Shinobi are tools, and friends and honor and trust - even lovelustwant - are fanciful, worthless dreams. Naruto's location cannot be disclosed, and all Iruka can hope is that Kakashi gets the upper hand or dies quickly. He wants so badly to simply tell, lovelustwant - no. Desperation and emotion have been mastered. Iruka is a master, after all. Orochimaru's (not Sasuke's) eyebrows raise in surprise, but he pulls the glowing finger back nonchalantly and aims for Iruka's heart. There is a split-second of pain as the finger tears through the muscle and bone, and then there is -
Iruka writhes on top of Kakashi one last time and drops the kunai he has been holding to Kakashi's throat as his world whites out. The blade slides into the sheets and nicks the Copy-nin's shoulder, eliciting a grunt as he comes. Iruka flops down, still seated on his lover. There is silence, then: "...You're late."
Kakashi chuckles hoarsely. "Is that all you have to say?" And then they are kissing, slow and warm and lovely -
And Iruka wakes up to the sight of the crescent moon overhead.
-
-
-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: MitsukoHyuuga asked for this mind-fuck involving Orochimaru, Iruka, and Kakashi ages ago. Again, sorry it took so long! I had parts of it written already - I hope my block didn't ruin it. Tell me the truth. I can take it. I personally don't think it's very mind-fuckish. And talk to me if you're confused - I always reply to my reviews. If the scene changes are too confusing, then tell me and I'll probably add breaks.
-
-
-
Iruka has never liked the idea that shinobi are tools - things to be used, broken, and thrown away.
He has never liked the idea, but he knows that it is true. He is a teacher, and the people who make a ninja must understand what it is to be ninja the best of all. He knows knows knows, and it is a truth that lodges bitter-tasting - like solid vinegar - in his throat at the sight of every tortured genius who passes through his domain, at every memory of a beaming, ramen-gleaming grin that Naruto offered up to his trusted Iruka-sensei as a child, with every lie about friends and honor and trust that he spouts to a classroom of trusting faces.
Half-guilt, because they are better off not knowing for a while and he is preserving their innocence. Because they should be prepared. Because lying to them only ends up with crushed, cracked souls-not-souls and tired, bitter-like-vinegar eyes, and that is why he cannot tell them. He is to lie - is told to lie - so the product at the end of the factory line will always be the perfectly functioning tool it should be in the hands of the village.
All tools break eventually, and the higher-ups prefer it to be later rather than sooner. The month-year-decade it takes a ninja to soak in the blood of his own fresh, personal tragedy (of course every tragedy is tragic. Even if it's commonplace - because it isn't common knowledge. Iruka does his work so well, and every shinobi with a soul-not-soul falls into the same crude trap. i want them to have innocence. for as long as is possible. HAPPINESS LIKE I BARELY REMEMBER) gives them time. Gives them use and dead targets and money.
Lies and truth - swallowed, of course. He hates the truth and hates himself, and all he can do is sit at Ichiraku's and stare into space while his bowl steams and cools, congealing.
He wonders if Naruto has discovered what a liar he is. He thinks about Orochimaru's new redblack eyes and wish-it-wasn't-familiar smirk and decides he probably has.
He only leaves the ramen stand when the old man starts to clean up and send pointed yet kind looks his way. He does not go home - there is nothing to go home for, not even ungraded papers. He passes silently from rooftop to rooftop and lands silently in his usual clearing. Kunai appear in his hands from out of nowhere, and he throws them at a target with his eyes closed.
Thunk thunk thunk thunk thunk thunk thunk.
He opens his eyes (and his lids do not drag for a split-second - he has no problems with looking at life), already knowing they will all be perfectly on the mark.
They are.
He pulls his hitai-ite over his eyes (and there is not a sort of relief there - a half-thought of -one day my eyes will never see again - one day i will never lie again, or destroy someone mind/body/will on orders-) and starts a kata, smooth as aged sake and just as mind-numbing.
When he finishes, he is sweating and tired, but not tired enough to sleep without conscience. He takes a deep breath and lifts his forehead protector -
there is a flash of swirling redblack eyes and a wish-it-wasn't-familiar-smirk, and -
He is dreaming. It is the sort of dream that makes him think: this is real. this has always been and will always be real.
There is - a bed. He is warm and comfortable and aching pleasantly, and there is a body next to him. It groans as Iruka sits up, and he can't help but laugh as he presses kisses against the back of Kakashi's neck.
"Kakashi."
Another groan.
"Kakashi! Get up! You have a meeting with your squad in half an hour! You aren't going to be late, do you hear me?"
Silence, then -
Laughter rings throughout the bedroom as Kakashi twists and pounces on top of Iruka, pinning him. The teacher finds himself staring into one droopy eye, the Sharingan still closed, as his lover hums sleepily.
"Wha? Don' wanna get up. Wanna stay here. With you. Try out pg 174 of Icha Icha Violence?" Kakashi is suddenly alert and seductive, and Iruka is slightly tempted.
"Kakashi! You have responsibilities as an ANBU captain, you pervert!" But not tempted enough. "Again, you have a meeting in half an hour."
Kakashi peppers his throat with kisses. Iruka can feel the other man's pout against his neck. "But I want yooouuuu. I'm always late, anyway. They're used to it."
Iruka closes his eyes, trying not to succumb to the sight of Kakashi's beautiful, naked body. He is pure muscle and scars, and Iruka feels himself giving in. "No," he says weakly. Kakashi works his way down Iruka's body. "...No?"
Kakashi licks him, nibbling, and pulls a kunai out of the sheets with a waggle of his eyebrows. He looks a little ridiculous. Iruka laughs and tells him so.
Kakashi's grin is predatory. He traces the blade down Iruka's chest delicately and licks away the beading blood. Iruka's breath catches. "Mah, Iruka-sensei. You know you like it rough." Iruka opens his mouth to reply, and -
It is dark and he is in a clearing. His hands are pinned above his head, a kunai caught between the bones and holding them to the tree (vicious pain, but Iruka is used to such things; what he is not used to is being hopelessly incapacitated so easily, so quickly) and there is black hair brushing against his brow. He feels the ninja's wish-it-wasn't-familiar smirk against his cheek and hot breath against his ear. Not-Sasuke hisses, "You know you like it rough."
And there is a kunai dragging cutting slicing through the thick muscles of Iruka's chest and down, and he screams -
He moans as Kakashi pulls the cut apart with knowledgeable fingers. "Ka-Kakashi." The other man looks up, and his eyes are searing. Iruka swallows. "You're - you're going to have to do better than that."
Predatory smile again, and why does that make him uneasy? Something is wrong -
and coughs up blood. A lung has been nicked.
"Ah, little teacher. Full of surprises, aren't you? Your ultimate fantasy - the Copy-nin - and you still fight. How unexpectedly interesting." Pale, slim fingers cup his cheek, and Iruka is blind with pain and hatred. "I wonder... are you Hatake's weakness as well?"
And suddenly the pain is a minor afterthought to the idea of Not-Sasuke going after Kakashi-sensei. he can't know - doesn't know, and i can't bear to see him not-care when this too-strong fuck tries to make me part of a genjutsu - and what the fuck kind of genjutsu is this? doesn't matter. can't can't can't - "No!" It is a shallow whisper compared to the scream that he wants to let loose, but he is afraid and about to die and not willing to let his single self-indulgent, never-happened dream be killed. Kakashi can handle himself, but Iruka can't stop the thought of he-won't-care from sliding across his face. He tastes the metallic tang of his own blood on his tongue and wants it to end already.
Not-Sasuke has pulled back, eyeing him like a curator scrutinising a work of art, and he catches it. A delighted look appears in his redblack eyes. "Oh. How very delicious. Let's play a new game, shall we?"
Blood is pouring out of Iruka's wound; the guilty weapon is lying on the ground. Iruka flips it up with his foot and sends it straight at Not-Sasuke. The monster knocks it aside with a finger, of course, and then he leans in, chuckling darkly. "Pathetic, but that's okay. Everyone is, compared to me." He raises the same finger he blocked the kunai with, and it is - it is glowing. Glowing? And then it is pressed against Iruka's right cheekbone.
Iruka smells the acrid, familiar scent of burning flesh, and the world explodes into red before he can -
"Scream, Ruka. I want to hear you scream!" Sweat glistens on Kakashi's collarbone, and his chest expands erratically as he drags the whisper-sharp metal down Iruka's cheekbone.
"Fuck! Kakashi!" He moans, long and hard, and hears the catch in Kakashi's breath. He is desperate for his lover's cock, but he won't -
He can't see out of his right eye, and he wishes he couldn't see out of his left one. All his left one sees is Sasuke's mocking smirk. At least the Sharingan has retreated - back to yellow, and Iruka is glad.
He doesn't ask why me? or what the hell was that? or why haven't you killed me yet?
Orochimaru answers him anyway. "You are the Jinchuuriki's most important person. Tell me where he is."
They both know that he won't let Iruka live even if he does tell, and the only reason Iruka doesn't give in to the perverse desire to spill and get it over with is because he is shinobi - and shinobi don't break until they're broken. Friends and honor and trust are all fanciful dreams, and Iruka knows this. The truth lodges bitter-tasting in his throat. But: DON'T BREAK UNTIL I SAY YOU CAN, his jounin instructor barks, and Iruka is thirteen and bleeding all over and exhausted. YOU DON'T BREAK WITHOUT PERMISSION, GOT IT? So he doesn't break. So he doesn't break.
Iruka doesn't even have to voice his refusal. Orochimaru reads it in his blank blank blank eyes and in every tight line of agony on his face, and Iruka knows what the Sannin member is about to say. "I'll just have to try the Hatake brat next, won't I?" The Snake Master runs the glowing finger along Iruka's jaw lightly, and he blacks out from the overwhelming pain for a few seconds. "- don't know anyway. He'll be more fun than you, in any case."
And this is where Orochimaru has read Iruka wrong. Iruka stares at the tree across the clearing with those blank blank blank eyes and does not speak. Shinobi are tools, and friends and honor and trust - even lovelustwant - are fanciful, worthless dreams. Naruto's location cannot be disclosed, and all Iruka can hope is that Kakashi gets the upper hand or dies quickly. He wants so badly to simply tell, lovelustwant - no. Desperation and emotion have been mastered. Iruka is a master, after all. Orochimaru's (not Sasuke's) eyebrows raise in surprise, but he pulls the glowing finger back nonchalantly and aims for Iruka's heart. There is a split-second of pain as the finger tears through the muscle and bone, and then there is -
Iruka writhes on top of Kakashi one last time and drops the kunai he has been holding to Kakashi's throat as his world whites out. The blade slides into the sheets and nicks the Copy-nin's shoulder, eliciting a grunt as he comes. Iruka flops down, still seated on his lover. There is silence, then: "...You're late."
Kakashi chuckles hoarsely. "Is that all you have to say?" And then they are kissing, slow and warm and lovely -
And Iruka wakes up to the sight of the crescent moon overhead.
-
-
-
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: MitsukoHyuuga asked for this mind-fuck involving Orochimaru, Iruka, and Kakashi ages ago. Again, sorry it took so long! I had parts of it written already - I hope my block didn't ruin it. Tell me the truth. I can take it. I personally don't think it's very mind-fuckish. And talk to me if you're confused - I always reply to my reviews. If the scene changes are too confusing, then tell me and I'll probably add breaks.
Sign up to rate and review this story