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Iruka wasn’t sure when it began, but he’d come to love watching humans. Time always seemed to move so slowly for him, even though their lives would come and go in the blink of an eye. He found it fascinating, how they lived, how they loved, the bonds they formed. Back when he was younger, naive and blind to how cruel life could be, Iruka couldn’t help but reach out and befriend them. At first things had been great, and he was no longer so alone in the world, but then, one by one they died, growing old whilst he almost seemed frozen in time, forever young and seemingly immortal. It was then that his Father’s voice sounded in his mind, warning him of the heartache he would surely suffer if he got too close.
Still, he couldn’t help but be drawn to watching them, going about their daily lives, loving without hesitation, their hearts worn so clearly on their sleeves.
Today was no different. At first Iruka kept his distance, watching from the trees as both men and women tended to the fields, pulling out the weeds that tried to grow between the new shoots of corn. As the afternoon wore on, and the humans moved to the other end of the field, Iruka took flight, circling around the field once, twice, three times before settling on his favourite perch.
This was the part of the day Iruka had come to love the most: sitting on the tatty shoulder of a scarecrow, haphazardly put together, and chattering away quietly, so as not to draw attention to himself and chased off. Most of what he would say was just nonsense, ramblings about the people who visited his shrine, but it felt nice to have someone to talk to, even if that person wasn’t real, or even alive to be able to talk back. The thought of his scarecrow friend not being alive made his heart ache and chest tighten, memories of long lost friends filling his mind, but he reminded himself that it was better this way.
Evening crept in fast, the hours flying by in a blur.
The fields were finally empty, the sky was now pitch black, and the sound of crickets chirping was the only sound to be heard. Iruka shifted, the air shimmering a soft gold around him as he changed from raven to tengu, standing tall on two legs, his black feathered wings stretched wide. With a sigh, he tucked his wings back in, plopping himself onto the ground in front of the scarecrow, knees drawn up to his chest. With deft fingers, Iruka untied the leather thong securing his red mask, pulling it away from his face and enjoying the cool spring breeze that blew across his tan skin. He stayed like that, head tipped up towards the night sky as he told the scarecrow tales from his past, about losing his parents and then friends, admitting out loud that he was lonely.
“You deserve a name, even if you’re not real.” Iruka paused for a moment, lips pursed as he contemplated what to name his straw friend. “Kakashi.” He said the name a few times, liking how it rolled off his tongue. “What do you think?”
At that moment, the wind picked up, the chill of the night air finally making itself known. Iruka stretched his wings out, wrapping them around his body much like a cape. If he didn’t know better, he’d have said that the gust of wind was a sign that yes, his new straw friend did indeed like his name, no matter how unoriginal it was.
Laughter bubbled up from deep within his chest, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Iruka felt just a little less lonely.
☆☆☆☆
The late morning sun broke through the trees, soft light dappling over the shrine, long since fallen into ruin and all but overgrown by the forest. Iruka wasn’t sure which kami had once resided there— their statue in the honden was broken and unrecognisable— but they’d been all but forgotten over time. Though, that had recently changed: the Namikaze family had come through the forest one day, back when they’d first moved into the small village nearby, and ever since had been coming by once a week to leave an offering.
The distant sound of voices pulled Iruka from his sleep where he laid on an old futon, tucked into a corner of the haiden. It had felt disrespectful at first, living in a shrine not for him, but he hoped that, whatever kami might be watching, they wouldn’t mind— not when he looked after the place, and did his best to repair the old wooden building, to try and restore it to its former glory.
Slowly, the shoji door to the haiden slid open, revealing Naruto and his parents. They left their shoes outside before stepping in, bowing down to offer up prayers and leaving a gift of fresh fruit. The first few times they had visited, Iruka had panicked before remembering they couldn’t see him, not unless he wanted them to.
The family didn’t stay long, and Iruka stood on the stone steps to watch them leave, feeling loneliness wash over him once more. He sighed— but then, just as they passed through the tori gates, Naruto looked back, directly at him, making a pointing motion with his hand. Iruka looked down, and there on the step below was a small, shiny, red stone.
Iruka looked back up to see Naruto smiling at him oh so very fox like, waving before running to catch up with his parents and disappearing out of view.
A child with the sight? Iruka had heard of humans having such a gift, but in all his years had never met anyone to have been blessed with it.
Crouching down, Iruka picked up the shiny stone, clutching it to his chest and smiling, feeling warmth spread throughout his body. He had so much to tell Kakashi about, and found himself looking forward to seeing his straw friend again.
☆☆☆☆
Iruka didn’t visit Kakashi until a few days later, waiting until the sun had set, his days prior spent in the village, watching the humans up close.
Gracefully, he shifted mid-air, shedding his raven form, his bare feet softly touching down on the soil in front of Kakashi.
“You’ll never guess what I learned the other day,” Iruka said.
“And I suppose you’re going to tell me?”
Iruka jumped, flicking all 4 of his wings out in shock, whirling around to the sound of the voice. His heart hammered wildly in his chest, beating so hard that he could feel thumping against his rib cage.
“Careful, you almost took my eye out with your wings.”
“I… you… h-how?” Iruka stuttered, tripping over his words. He thought that maybe he’d finally gone mad, that he was starting to imagine things in his loneliness. The scarecrow— no, Kakashi— wasn’t talking to him, was he? Despite the doubts over his sanity, he found himself talking back, asking “How are you suddenly alive?”
“I’ve always been alive.”
“But…” Iruka paused, gesturing wildly with his arms. “You are— were— just a scarecrow. Why haven’t you said anything before now?” His heart continued to hammer away, a mix of adrenaline, nerves, and excitement. It left him feeling jittery, his knees weak— but, along with that, came the feeling of hope. That he’d found a new friend, one that wouldn’t leave him.
“I wanted to, but couldn’t. Not until a few nights ago when—”
“When I gave you a name.”
“You catch on quickly, Iruka,” Kakashi said, his tone teasing.
“How—?”
“How do I know your name? Maa, for someone as old as you, shouldn’t you know? I’m Kakashi, but you may know me by another name; Kuebiko. I am the kami of wisdom and agriculture. Surely you’ve heard of me?”
Iruka couldn’t help but puff up at that, the comment quite literally ruffling his feathers. Sure, he’d been around for hundreds of years, but he’d kept to himself, away from humans and other yōkai both. After the heartache of losing his old human friends, he’d all but isolated himself from the world. Kakashi didn’t know that though, and he had spoken playfully, obviously not trying to be deliberately offensive.
“Stop pouting. If the wind changes, your face will get stuck like that.”
He would forever deny it if mentioned, but Iruka squawked at that comment, shocked that a kami could be so… so childish and playful. Although until now he’d never met a kami, Iruka had only ever pictured them to be graceful, well spoken and stoic, not at all like Kakashi who talked to him with such familiarity, like they'd known each other for years.
Before long, they fell into conversation, talking about everything and anything. Mostly, Iruka just sat and listened, content to let Kakashi lead the conversation, listening to all the scarecrow had to say. He talked and talked, seemingly unable to stop himself now that he’d got going. Not that Iruka minded; after such a long time alone, all of the talking was welcome.
“Hey, Kakashi, have you ever heard about humans gifted with the sight?”
“I have, and once met a few during my travels many, many years ago. Why do you ask?”
Iruka pushed himself up to his feet, turning to look out across the field, his gaze resting on the small village. “One of the kids from the village, Naruto, can see me. I’d heard about the sight, but never met anyone with it until now,” he said, reaching inside the fold of his kimono, fingers wrapping around the small cotton pouch containing the carnelian Naruto had given him. A small smile graced his lips as he thought back to the other day at the shrine.
“Ah, that explains why the other kids bully him.”
“Yeah,” Iruka sighed, dejected. “I had always wondered why they called him a freak, and now I know why. Kids can be so cruel and vicious.”
“Humans in general can be cruel.”
There was pain in Kakashi’s voice, something that spoke to first hand experience, so Iruka didn’t push, instead steering the conversation in another direction, telling Kakashi lighthearted stories from when he was a fledgeling. They were deeply personal, but it felt good to share them, to remember the happier times when his parents were still alive and his world was full of laughter.
“Maa Iruka, when flying you’re meant to look where you’re going, not pick a fight with a tree.”
“Oi, I was still learning. You’re annoying, do you know that?”
“I aim to please,” Kakashi said with a lilt to his voice, the words almost sing-song.
“And you talk a lot,” Iruka retorted, turning his head away so Kakashi couldn’t see the smile breaking out across his face as he pretended to still be annoyed with Kakashi poking fun at him.
“But you don’t?”
Iruka laughed then, unable to keep hold in the joy bubbling up inside. It had been so long since he’d been able to talk to someone, and even longer since his heart had felt so light.
☆☆☆☆
Iruka continued to visit Kakashi most days, perched happily on his shoulder, watching how the landscape changed rapidly; Spring giving way to Summer, and the fields now full of lush, green corn plants. Everything around them was bursting full of colour and vitality, the world welcoming new life, fauna and flora both. It was a sight that Iruka had seen over and over again, and yet it still amazed him to see the forever turning circle of life and death, growth and decay.
Some days they would say nothing, just enjoying the company and the break from loneliness. Other days, Iruka found Kakashi really talkative, as though he was somehow making up for the time he’d been alone, just like Iruka. The scarecrow was full of humour, and his knowledge was vast; although, given that he was Kuebiko, it wasn’t at all surprising. Sometimes Iruka wondered if he’d come into existence with all the knowledge he held, or whether most was learned experience. There was something in Iruka’s gut that told him it was the latter, especially since Kakashi had said something months ago, an accidental slip of the tongue— when he’d asked why Kakashi hadn’t spoken before that told him the scarecrow had once led another life, one where he wasn’t destined to remain rooted to one spot for eternity, his freedom forever gone.
It was a thought that often crept up in Iruka’s mind, wanting to know more about his straw friend, but not wanting to overstep and risk him pulling away.
“Maa, Iruka, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say I was boring you.”
“Never. I just enjoy listening to your voice,” Iruka replied honestly.
“Oh?” The teasing tone in Kakashi’s voice spoke of fondness, and it was at the moment that Iruka realised what he’d said, how he felt. Embarrassment washed over him, and he flapped his wings, puffing up like a fuzzy fledgeling, tucking his beak into his chest feathers in an attempt to hide himself.
“I— I mean it’s just been so long since I’ve had someone to talk to.”
“I know.”
The silence between them should have felt awkward, stilted, but it didn’t. Iruka didn’t have to explain to Kakashi what it was like to be alone, for people to pass on by, never knowing that you exist. Puffing up his feathers again, this time to stave off the cold of the night air, Iruka shuffled further up Kakashi’s shoulder, pressing himself against the scarecrow. As the sun went down, they both took solace in the quiet company of their friendship.
☆☆☆☆
Summer had flown quickly, and they were now in Autumn; Iruka felt like time was moving too fast, the days with Kakashi coming and going in the blink of the eye, but the reality was simply that it was no longer dragging in lonliness.
Over the months they’d become really close, confiding in one another and falling into easy companionship, as though they’d known one another for centuries. The first time Iruka had felt warmth blossom in his chest when thinking of Kakashi, he hadn’t thought anything of it. But then it happened again and again, accompanied by a strange fluttering sensation whenever Iruka saw his straw friend. He tried to tell himself that this was simply how it felt to be alive, to feel like his heart was finally beating again.
Every moment spent with Kakashi only made the feeling grow, spreading, taking root deep within his heart. He slotted into Iruka’s life like the missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle, making him feel whole.
Eventually Iruka could no longer deny his feelings.
He was in love with Kakashi.
☆☆☆☆
“No, no, no, that’s not right either,” Iruka grumbled to himself, flopping back on the bank of the stream. He rubbed his hands over his face, dragging them back down his cheeks before flinging his arms to the side in frustration.
It was already late in the afternoon, and he’d been looking for hours for the perfect shiny pebble, but none of them were quite right, and it had to be right. In all honesty, Iruka wasn't entirely sure what the perfect pebble would look like, only that he’d know once he saw it.
He pushed himself back, leaning back on the palms of his hands and looking out across the stream. The water was crystal clear, the late afternoon sunlight dancing across the top of the water. Just as he was about to give up, something caught his eye on the other side of the stream. Iruka got up onto his feet, hiked his hakama up and waded through the shallow water, enjoying how it lapped against his calves.
“So pretty,” Iruka whispered, bending down to grab the pebble just below the surface. It was jet black, like his own feathers, but had a silvery shine to it. Iruka couldn’t help but be drawn to it, the pebble was so striking, and not at all like one’s he’d seen before. Or maybe he had, but his own standards for his shiny pebble collection was much lower, content to collect anything that caught his eye.
Iruka pulled the cotton pouch from inside his kimono, placing the pebble inside before safely tucking it away. The sun was already starting to set, and, as if he weighed nothing at all, he leapt up into the air, his black feathered wings spread wide, powerful as they beat in the air, taking him up high up into the sky. It felt good, the wind in his hair and beneath his wings, soaring across the sky so colourful; pinks and oranges mixing with blue as the sun gave way to early evening.
It didn’t take long for him to arrive at the corn fields, and he could already feel Kakashi’s gaze on him. Tucking his wings in, Iruka barrelled through the air, twisting and turning, his raven behaviour bleeding through, screaming at him to: impress, impress, look at me!
He made one last twist in the air before gliding down to the ground, not so much as disturbing the dirt with his wings.
“Show off.”
Iruka blushed, rubbing nervously over the scar that cut across his face, his gaze on his feet as he said “ahhhh, sorry. It’s a lovely evening and I got a bit carried away.”
“You’re beautiful when you’re flying,” Kakashi said, and Iruka preened at that, wanting Kakashi to look at him, always.
Reaching into his kimono, Iruka opened the pouch, dipping his fingers inside to grab the shiny, black pebble. He palmed it, turning it over in his hands a few time to admire it. It was simple in its beauty, but still precious all the same. Just like Kakashi, Iruka thought.
“This is for you.” Iruka held the stone out so Kakashi could see, and felt anxiety sweep over him, the mere moments waiting for a response almost feeling like an eternity. He could see Kakashi was puzzled, could see that he didn’t understand the significance behind Iruka’s gesture. But that was fine, because then Kakashi smiled. The movement was minor, given the way the material Kakashi was made from restricted him, but it was enough to convey emotion, the months they’d spent together allowing Iruka to decipher even the smallest movement in his friend’s face.
He placed the pebble on the ground, against the wooden post staked into the dirt, holding Kakashi up.
“You shouldn’t have,” Kakashi said, and Iruka was sure if he were made of flesh and bone, that Kakashi would be blushing.
“I wanted to. You… you’re important to me,” Iruka admitted.
“Iruka, I—” Kakashi began, pausing, his expression darkening for a moment before he laughed, smiling and said, “ah it’s nothing, don’t worry.”
Awkward tension filled the space between them, and not for the first time Iruka found himself worried, wanting to know what it was that Kakashi wasn’t telling him, but knowing not to push. Although they’d opened up to one another over the months, there were still things that he knew Kakashi wasn’t saying— not that he blamed him, there were still things that even Iruka himself hadn’t told his friend, painful memories, ones filled with blood and betrayal.
He hoped that one day Kakashi would open up to him, but until that time, he would continue to be a supportive presence.
☆☆☆☆
“Iruka, I think you’re going to bury me in pebbles.”
Blood rushed to his cheeks when he sat back on his heels and looked at the sheer volume of pebbles stacked at the base of Kakashi’s wooden post.
He hadn’t meant to, but Iruka had got carried away with gifting Kakashi shiny pebbles. It had just started off with a couple here and there, but turned into something much more, his panic over his feelings for Kakashi causing him to go overboard with his courting. Not that his friend knew what the gesture meant; as far as Kakashi was concerned, Iruka was just another tengu with an obsession for collecting shiny things, and was expressing his platonic feelings through his gifts.
Although, why he continued to collect and gift the pebbles, despite the fact Iruka knew his friend didn’t understand the real reason behind his behaviour, he wasn’t sure. At this point it had almost become an obsession, the bird brain in him whispering that maybe, just maybe, if he found the perfect shiny pebble, that Kakashi would be impressed, that maybe he would see the unspoken gesture for what it truly was.
“I’m just teasing you Iruka, no need to get your feathers all ruffled. They’re lovely, thank you.”
Ducking his head to hide his blush, Iruka replied, “you’re welcome,” and then stood from where he had been crouched, brushing the dust off his clothing. “I see Naruto has been to see you again.” Up until now Kakashi had been dressed in old tattered trousers and a white tunic, their threads barely holding together. Now he was dressed in light grey hakama and a charcoal kimono, and an old rice hat atop his head. They weren’t new, in the sense that they’d been purchased from a seamstress, but they were newly made, the amatuer stitching obvious.
“He visited this morning, yelling about how badly dressed I was and that it was such a crime for me to be in rags. Something about how I needed to be dressed for the weather, and that he’d had help from his Mother to sew me some new clothes. You know Naruto; loud, unpredictable.” The fond tone in his voice belied the faux annoyance of his words, and his bored expression.
“Hmm, well, he’s right, it is getting colder now. I wonder if he knows about you, too. Whenever he visits the shrine with his family, he waves goodbye to me. He even started leaving onigiri on the steps for me when his parents aren’t looking. The kid has a heart of gold,” Iruka trailed off, smiling when he thought of the boy who, despite being bullied, always remained kind.
“The world needs more people like him,” Kakashi agreed. “So, do I Iook more dashing in these new clothes?”
“You did before.” The words were out of Iruka’s mouth before his brain caught up, but then Kakashi was laughing, a low rumbling sound that made the hairs on Iruka’s arms stand up and a shiver run down his spine.
“Such the flatterer. If you’re not careful, my head might explode.”
Jabbing a finger into Kakashi’s chest, Iruka scolded him, “Do not joke about that, Kakashi! I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.” His voice wavered, tears threatening to fall. Just the thought of losing Kakashi made Iruka feel sick to his stomach. No, he wouldn’t let that happen. Once the last of the corn was harvested, he would bring Kakashi back to the shrine, and they could live there together, safe in a sacred haven.
“I’m sorry.”
“So you should be, baka.”
Yet again, time flew by, the sun starting to rise over the horizon. Iruka didn’t usually stay this long, but there was something in him that wanted to stay. “Watch the sunrise with me?” he asked, a soft glow enveloping his body as he shifted into his raven form and hopped up onto Kakashi’s shoulder.
“Of course,” Kakashi answered, his voice soft, full of an emotion Iruka couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Just then, the wind picked up and Iruka didn’t hear the whispered, “one last time.”
☆☆☆☆
Iruka couldn’t believe what he was seeing; he closed his eyes, counting back from ten, because what he'd seen just couldn't be real. Taking a steadying breath, he opened his eyes only to feel like someone had just knocked the breath from his lungs.
His stomach twisted, bile rising up, its taste bitter on his tongue. Kakashi was—
There was straw everywhere.
The sheer shock had Iruka rooted to the spot. He knew that he should be moving, doing something, anything. But his body felt heavy, and no matter how much he tried to tell it to move, it wouldn't. Instead his knees buckled, giving out and hitting the dirt with a sickening crack.
Kakashi was—
He was in pieces.
“Don’t cry. It’s alright.”
The tears fall then, flowing freely as he takes in the scene before him. “What happened?” Iruka manages to choke out, shaking himself out his daze, crawling on his hands and knees to collect the straw that was strewn all over the dirt.
“The kids at the village,” Kakashi said, his expression grim. “It seems they didn’t like the payback Naruto gave them for picking on a little kid the other day, and well, they’ve seen him up here, giving me new clothes and-”
“They realised hurting you is the same as hurting Naruto.” Iruka was furious, feeling the anger roiling through his veins because how dare they. Even through his fury, tears continued to fall, fat and hot, rolling down his cheeks.
He finished collecting the straw, and the stuffed arm that was just laying on the ground. There was no blood, but it felt gruesome, straw strewn around like innards, and a torn arm just discarded, as though the person it had been attached to didn’t warrant a second thought.
“Iruka, I— I have something I need to tell you.”
He didn’t hear Kakashi, though, because he’d switched to autopilot, only one thought looping in his mind over and over: put him back together.
Carefully Iruka started stuffing the straw back into Kakasi’s body, murmuring quiet apologies as he did so, completely forgetting that his friend cannot feel any pain. His world narrowed down to this one task, and it wasn’t until Kakashi raised his voice that Iruka stopped, looking up at his face and the sad expression his friend was wearing.
“Iruka, stop, there’s no point.” The words are said softly, as though it pained Kakashi to speak them. “There’s a ritual tonight. I thought you knew back when we first met, but when I realised you didn’t… I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what? I don’t understand?”
“The ritual of burning the scarecrow, to release me back into the realm between life and death, until they call upon me again. I wanted to tell you—” Kakashi paused, a second passing, then two, then three, before continuing, his voice wavering as though he might have been crying, if he were flesh and blood. “But I couldn’t bring myself to tell you, because—” he looked at Iruka with a sad smile on his face, and said, “because I fell in love with you.”
Those were the words Iruka had been longing to hear, had been hoping and praying to any kami who might listen, that Kakashi would return his feelings. He should have been elated, but at that moment he didn’t feel anything but crushing pain, as though someone had wrapped a hand around his heart, squeezing the very life out of him. Iruka’s vision started to blur, and his legs wobbled, threatening to give out on him, his grip on Kakashi’s kimono the only thing keeping him upright.
Is this really goodbye? Am I really going to be all alone again?
“You don’t get to say that and then leave me!” Iruka all but screamed, pulling on the magic that sung within his blood, red threads spidering across Kakashi’s body, slowly stitching him back together.
“Iruka, I can’t stay, the ritual is tonight.”
“So you’ll just continue to live your life like this? Coming and going between realms, unable to move or… or to talk to anyone?”
“Such is my punishment for not being able to keep a promise to a friend. Please, don’t waste your tears on me.”
“Baka,” Iruka whispered, reaching into his kimono for the pouch containing the carnelian that Naruto had gifted him all those months ago. He reached up, cupping Kakashi’s face tenderly before holding the gemstone to where one of his button eyes once were, before it had been torn away. Gently, he pushed his magic into the carnelian, the gemstone fusing in place. “Don’t you know that I love you?”
The air around them shifted, the gentle breeze suddenly replaced by something much fiercer. It whipped around them, faster and faster. It was as though they were inside the eye of a hurricane, the calm inside such a contrast to the near violent winds whirling around them.
Any semblance of control Iruka had over his magic slipped away, like grains of sand flowing through his fingers. It became wild, the spidery, red threads of his magic striking out like lightning in all directions, tangling together and then striking again.
An almost unbearable warmth started to build up deep inside his body, ever expanding until Iruka felt like he was tearing at the seams. It built up, higher and higher until, suddenly, all of his red threads of magic, bright and brilliant, wove together into a perfect single red thread, striking out at both him and Kakashi like an angry snake.
It tied them both together, pulsing away like an artery full of life blood, all of the warmth rushing out of Iruka and into Kakashi. The red thread started to glown, dim at first, but with the last rush of warmth that left Iruka’s body, it became blinding before fading away with the wind.
Iruka rubbed at his eyes, unable to comprehend just what, no, who was standing in front of him, very much alive and on his own two legs.
Kakashi.
He was... he was no longer a scarecrow.
“Maa, Iruka, if you keep staring at me like that you’ll make me nervous,” Kakashi said, laughing and mouth pulled into a crooked grin, his eyes crinkled at the corners.
“Kakashi?” Iruka asked tentatively. His emotions were all over the place, cycling through disbelief, shock, and then joy. He felt the sparks of hope be rekindled, burning brighter than they ever had before.
Without bothering to hide it, Iruka raked his eyes up and down Kakashi’s body, taking in every single detail; hair that was grey and wild, sticking up in every direction, and skin that was almost paper white, a stark contrast to the charcoal and grey of his clothing. In place of the carnelian was a blood red eye, bisected by what at first looked like a scar, but upon closer inspection Iruka could see that it was one of his magic threads, glowing dimly just beneath the surface of Kakashi’s skin.
“How is this possible?”
“Can’t you feel it? The soul bond tying us together?” Kakashi asked, placing his palm against Iruka’s chest.
Sure enough Iruka could feel it; a sensation that couldn’t be described by any words. All he knew was that their souls had been tied together, bonded to become one, their lives irrevocably changed forever.
“Yes, I can feel it. I can feel you, in here,” Iruka said, placing his own hand on top of Kakashi’s, enjoying the feel of his soft skin, warm and very much alive.
The smile that spread across Kakashi’s face was bright, so full of happiness. “Can I kiss you?”
Iruka answered by wrapping both of his arms around Kakashi’s waist, pulling them even closer, their lips almost touching. “Yes.”
The kiss was gentle, unhurried, full of love and other unspoken emotions. There were no words needed between them to express how they felt, only the soft press of lips and a tender embrace.
All of Iruka’s sadness and fear washed away, leaving only an overwhelming feeling of happiness and a sense of feeling complete, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally slotting into place.
“Let’s go home,” Iruka whispered when they finally broke the kiss, taking both of Kakashi’s hands in his and tugging him towards the forest.
“I’m already home.”