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Umino Iruka was a wealthy man. Well, he considered himself wealthy. If you asked other parts of the noble class, they would say he was beyond filthy rich.
The Uminos had always had a flair for business and Iruka was no different, though, if you asked him he'd say he rather wanted his parents alive than inherit a fortune.
As it were, Umino Iruka was orphaned at the tender age of twelve. He could have lived his life in splendour without doing much of anything but after a year or two of reckless behaviour; he stepped up and took responsibility for his own education and future. He took over his father's vast business and in doing so managed to double the already considerable fortune.
Umino Iruka wasn't like most of the ton. He didn't squalor away his riches on grand parties, gambling or lavish homes. No, he invested in his own lands and the duchy he, as a duke, was in charge of. He didn't over tax his peasants or tenants. The village schools were free for all who wished for an education. The same went for the small healing houses, poor houses and orphanages.
He did not just dull out punishments either. He was always willing to listen and he strongly believed in second chances. In return he had some of the most loyal people in all the duchies, who worked hard to make everything as perfect as possible. The produce from the Umino fields and orchards were considered a delicacy, the jewellery was beautiful and intricate and the glass factories created sturdy yet delicate goods.
Despite all this wealth the Umino country manor was considered quite small. It consisted of a three winged castle with an inner court yard that had a simple marble fountain in the centre. Two paths went, from the court yard, around a manmade lake, away from the house and out to the castle park. It was build with white stone in the lower half and red bricks in the upper half. The East wing had a big balcony facing the court yard and lake, the South wing had a tower and the main stairs with rooms designed for the finer guests.
The South wing was where Umino Iruka and his staff spent most of their days, since it was here the kitchen and staff rooms were located. Umino Iruka had chosen one of the larger rooms on the staff corridor instead of the master rooms in the East wing. He did not believe he needed more. The stables were long sleek buildings that shared the castles outer court yard and a long alleyway, with old oak trees on each side, lead down to the estate from the main road.
The park was nurtured but wild. There were no straight lines or forced growth and there were no statues or other forms of decorations beyond the natural beauty and the colour of leaves and flowers. Past a low hill, just before the tree line of the forest, stood a little temple dedicated to the Gods and the Umino ancestors.
Every Sunday of the week, in the warm summer months, Umino Iruka held a picnic for all, who were able to attend. At this day he could walk among his villagers, peasants and tenants. He could listen to their joys and sorrows and it gave, especially the peasants, an informal opportunity to talk about their worries and ideas about the harvest.
Umino Iruka didn't have a big staff. He was, by now, a grown man and was more than capable of donning his own clothes. He had the barest minimum of people required to manage the estate. They were all people he considered his rag tag family and at the end of each day they would all dine together in the kitchen with laughter and good spirits to accompany the simple yet tasteful food.
As of yet they were not affected by the threat of war lurking in the corners of the Land of Fire.
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As any other day, a light knock on the bedroom door woke Iruka up. He sat up as Neji, his valet, opened the door and stepped inside, pushing a cart ahead of him. The silver tray on the cart held a fine porcelain tea pot tinted with Sakura flowers with a matching tea cup and plate. The breakfast was an easy helping of bread and cheese. Three letters was held down by a clear glass sphere paper weight. Neji placed the cart at the bedside so Iruka could reach it.
"Good morning, sir."
"Good morning, Neji." Iruka smiled at Neji, knowing his stoic valet would not return the gesture.
"Will you take a walk in the park this morning or are there other matters to attend?" Neji walked across the room and threw the heavy green curtains aside, letting the morning light in.
"I believe I have time for a walk." Iruka said and began to pour the steaming hot tea into the cup.
"Very well, sir. Your bath will be ready, when you are done with breakfast. Is there anything else?" Neji looked at Iruka with his pale lavender eyes. He was impeccable dressed in black trousers and a black form fitting tail coat with a grey waistcoat underneath. His white shirt was pristine and clashed with the black bowtie.
"No, that is all. Thank you."
Neji made a small bow and swiftly departed the room, leaving Iruka to read his letters in peace. Iruka could not help but laugh a little. Neji was so serious about his job and sometimes Iruka would do all kinds of improper things just to see a hint of an emotion, in a subtle manner, of course.
There were not much importance to the letters and Iruka was soon clothed in black trousers, a silk blue waistcoat, a high collared white shirt with a blue striped Ascot held together with a silver stickpin and a black cutaway coat. He had tied his hair at the nape of his neck with a thin leather string to keep it away from his face.
The Hallway was empty, when he walked out the door. There were lavish paintings of different kinds. Nature scenery and animals hanging frozen in time on the walls and the floor was covered in a thick but worn red carpet. He passed the armour statue on his way down the stairs and gave it a slight pat on the shoulder, as he did every morning, to thank it for protecting them yet another night. He had been afraid of it as a child but then his father had told him that it was there to protect the people in the house and he need not be frightened by it. So they had made the tradition to thank the armour every morning and it had become one of Iruka's most beloved items.
At the bottom of the stairs Neji stood ready with his foot long over coat, top hat and walking cane. He let himself into the coat and then reached out for the black top hat to place it on his head. His valet passed him the walking cane, which was dark brown with a gilded eagle head as handle.
It was the beginning of spring and the daylight was warm with an occasional cool breeze. The birds were already singing joyful tunes and Iruka took in a deep breath and headed for the left path that would take him past the temple about a mile ahead. The gravel stones crunch under Iruka's boots and he moved the cane lazily with every step. There were only High-Level clouds on the sky and the sun hung fat and yellow. It was still a bit too early for the flowers to bloom but their buds were almost bursting letting the petals' colours peek out.
The garden temple was a square structure, where the open front was supported by two round columns that had lotus ornaments at the top. The entablature, resting on the columns, was decorated with foliage of ash leaves and the roof was appealing verdigris. Iruka ascended the three low steps and stopped in front of the wooden temple alter. The white candles were always lit and even in sunlight they glowed inside the stone building.
Iruka took a batch of incense from a hidden compartment and held them, one by one, over a candle flame. The sweet smell of the smoke soon permeated the air and Iruka took a moment to breathe it in and say a short prayer to show respect for his ancestors and his parents. These moments were where Iruka felt most vulnerable and raw.
Instead of returning to the manor, he chose to continue on a path that would lead him into the forest. He treading along the, now soil, path avoiding the puddles from the rain they had the day before. He was in good spirits and smiled to himself as he turned his head up towards the sun. Unfortunately he did have business to attend and when he reached a cross road he turned down the right path that would lead him back to the castle and the obligations he had for the remainder of day.
It was on this beautiful early spring morning that Iruka stumbled upon Hatake Kakashi.
Later, Iruka could not recall what had made him stop up and look into deeper into the forest than usual. He assumed it must have been the reflecting light of the silver buttons that caught his eyes. But whatever it may have been it resulted in Iruka treading through the underbrush, soft mud quickly clinging to his leather boots. He used the walking cane to brush away some of the lower hanging branches and, it was while doing so, he noticed a messy tangle of limbs and shocking silver hair laying beneath an old crooked chestnut tree.
Iruka rushed over and kneeled without a thought to his fine clothes. The man was laying on his front, his face hidden by fallen leaves. His left arm was trapped underneath his body, while the right arm was outstretched with a ragged bandage around the wrist. The clothes were torn in multiple places exposing blood crusted wounds and bruised skin. Iruka grabbed a shoulder and turned the man onto his left side so he may breathe easier.
"Sir?" He shook the stranger carefully but the man didn't even stir. "Sir, please. You must wake up."
Nothing happened and Iruka cursed silently. The man was too heavy for him to carry the trek back to the castle.
"Sir, I have to seek help. I will have to leave you for a little while."
There was no response but Iruka did not feel comfortable with just leaving an unconscious man to fend for himself. He made sure to lock the body in place and got to his feet clumsily. He took a couple of steps towards the path before he turned around abruptly and struggled to get his over coat off and draped it hastily over the man's own ruined clothes.
Iruka sprinted down the path and it wasn't long before he saw the park grounds with its trimmed lawn. He was breathing hard and sweat was already making the shirt stick to his skin. By fate's will he noticed Yamato, the manor's head gardener, working not far further on.
"Yamato!" He shouted, most unseemly, but there was no time for formality. Yamato threw the shovel he had been using and met Iruka halfway.
"My lord, what is the matter?" He looked alarmed and quickly supported the duke, when he almost tumbled to the ground.
"A man..." Iruka heaved, trying to catch his lost breath, "needs assistance. He is not well."
"Where?"
"In the forest. I had not the strength to carry him. We need something to transport him."
"I suggest a wagonette, sir. Let me find Shikamaru and we will drive back here."
"Yes. Please hurry." Iruka gasped.
"We will, sir."
And off he went, running towards the outer court yard and the stables. Iruka could do nothing but wait and hope the stranger in the forest was still alive when they returned.
The room was gloomy with only a single lighted candle standing in a brass holder on the night stand. The curtains were drawn keeping the afternoon sun at bay. The four poster bed was made of sturdy mahogany with heavily brocaded blue fabric fastened to the wood corners. There were sea paintings hanging on the walls and a lavish desk was tucked into a corner together with a fully padded chair. Even in the dark and with a wicked head ache Kakashi saw the wealth.
He carefully leaned back against the headboard. There was pain in every part of his body. His broken wrist was thankfully splintered and secured properly, much better than his own sloppy attempt. He had been stripped of his uniform and dressed in a soft night gown that smelled of fresh air and his own sweat. The black eye patch, that covered his left eye, was replaced by a cotton sash and he felt recently washed. Of course, he had no recollection of when all this had been done. What he last remembered was the throbbing pain in his wrist and the cold forest ground. After that all had been black.
The door was opened suddenly and Kakashi jumped a little in surprise. A petite girl with long pink hair, held back by a broad silk ribbon and a dark red taft dress, entered with a tray clasped in her hands. She paused, when she looked over at the bed but moved forward as soon as the startled look on her face disappeared.
"I apologise. I did not know you were awake." Her voice was a little pitched but otherwise pleasant.
"It's fine. How could you have known?" Kakashi had not spoken for a while and it came out hoarse and painful.
The girl smiled and placed the tray next to the candle on the bedside table. On it were a silver pitcher, a tall glass and some clean bandages amongst other various items. She poured the glass with water and handed it to Kakashi. He took it gratefully and gulped it down. It was cool and fresh and tasted like heaven.
"Thank you." He wheezed.
The girl had taken the desk chair and positioned it beside the bed, while Kakashi was drinking. She sat down and gave him another smile.
"You are welcome." She refilled his glass and opened a small vial from the tray. She emptied the contents down in the water and handed the glass back to Kakashi.
"It will help with the pain. I am Haruno Sakura, by the way." She said and her cheeks turned red with a faint blush.
Kakashi looked a little sceptical at the water but decided to drink it anyhow. He did not have much to lose by showing a little trust. The room, or this place, did not make his senses go haywire so for now he would let himself relax, if only a little.
"Can you maybe tell me where I am?"
The girl started to unwrap his injured wrist, a look of concentration in her green eyes.
"You are on the Umino estate. The lord himself found you out in the forest yesterday morning."
Kakashi frowned. A duke. Of all the places to black out he chose the forest of a duke. T
he girl was efficient and his wrist was soon dressed up tightly and comfortable again. She did not ask any questions or forced Kakashi to listen to mundane chatter. Before she left she put the chair back and let the pitcher and glass stay on the table.
"I was asked to notify the lord, when you awoke. He will call upon you as soon as he is able. Do you need anything? Food perhaps?" She stood with the tray in one hand; dirty bandages bundled up, looking at him expectantly.
"Ah, yes. Food sounds wonderful."
She curtsied and walked out the door with her skirts flowing behind her.
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When the door to Kakashi's room opened again it was forewarned by a knock. This time a man, just slightly shorter than himself, entered. He appeared to be in his late-twenties with broad shoulders and a thin waist. His brown hair was tied at the nape and his skin was a healthy dark colour. He made a striking figure in tight dark trousers, grey woollen waistcoat and a white shirt.
"Good. I was afraid you might have fallen back asleep." He smiled warmly, and then he walked out, leaving the door open. Kakashi straightened up and tried to peer pass the door. He came back in rolling a cart. On it was two silver goblets, two silver dish bells and another silver pitcher.
"I thought you would like some company along with the food. Miss Haruno was of the opinion that you are not fit to be out of bed yet."
Kakashi stared at the cart, while the man gathered the chair at the desk.
"You do like your silver in this place."
A deep chuckle came from the other as he lifted the dish bells and set them down on the carpeted floor.
"It is not as fragile as glass or the fine china. If it is below your standard, I do ask your forgiveness." It was said in humour and Kakashi could do nothing but laugh.
"Before we dine, sir, may I enquire your name?"
The man had been about to settle in the chair but he at Kakashi's question he promptly stretched out his left hand.
"Of course," he said with a blush spreading on his cheeks, "I seem to have forgotten my manners. I am Umino Iruka."
They had already grasped hands, when the name was revealed and Kakashi's eyes widened in disbelief. The duke did not seem to take notice. He sat down in the chair and began to separate the cutlery.
"My lord, it seems I should be the one asking forgiveness. I have trespassed your grounds and I am acting quite informal and taking up your tim..."
"No, no, no!" The duke interrupted Kakashi, "it is all right. You gave us all quite the scare, I must admit and I do not get offended easily. I like to think I am more than a title. So do not worry."
Kakashi nodded, "then I won't. I am Hatake Kakashi."
"I finally have a name on my wounded stranger." Iruka said cheerfully. It was at this moment Kakashi first noticed the scar across the duke's nose. It fascinated him immediately.
"My cook made you soup. I do not know when you last ate so that was the safest option. And you only have to use one hand." Iruka's eyes lit up with mirth and he seemed to have trouble containing his amusement.
"Sure, mock the cripple." Kakashi answered crudely and picked up the spoon Iruka had laid beside the steaming hot and delicious smelling bowl of soup.
They ate in silence and although Kakashi had just met this man he already felt a friendship building. It was an unfamiliar territory; since he did not trust new people easily, especially not someone from the Noble class, which was a world so far beyond his own.
Kakashi was a soldier's son and he had continued in his father's footsteps. He had been a natural fighter and had climbed the ranks quickly. Sometimes he was convinced his ladder had been made of human bones and dead flesh from the men and women, he had killed in the name of his country. Yet, if it could keep a person like Duke Umino Iruka safe he would gladly add more steps to his morbid ladder.
"Mr Hatake," Iruka's deep voice brought him out of his impasse, "when you are feeling better I must insist on a conversation as to why, and how, you ended in my forest, as you did."
Kakashi had seen that coming, "of course, my lord."
"I do not need details. But I am not stupid, I know we are close to war and you were wearing a soldier's uniform." Iruka's eyes were deep simmering pieces of coal in the single candlelight.
"I will tell you what I can." Kakashi assured.
"That is all I ask." And like that, the serious mood was gone.
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When Mr Hatake's eye had started to droop Iruka had called it a night. Mr Hatake had protested fervently but as Iruka told the man there was another day tomorrow. They could continue their conversations at a more suitable time. He had wished him a good night and left with the dirty tableware.
Neji, as always, had a keen sense on when he was needed and stood ready to relieve Iruka of the cart.
"Thank you." Iruka said gratefully.
"It is my job, sir." Neji said and gave him a candle holder with a lighted bee wax candle.
"Take the rest of the evening off. Spend some time with Shikamaru."
At the mentioning of Shikamaru's name Neji could not hold a timid smile back. "There are still tasks to be done, my lord."
"It can wait." Iruka quickly replied and gave his valet a firm look.
Neji cleared his throat discreetly. "Very well, sir. I bid you good night then."
He made a quick bow and took the cart with him to the dumbwaiter.
Iruka let a short minute pass by before he turned around and made his way to his own chambers. Mr Hatake had been given a room on the servant hallway above the east wing. The window faced the inner court yard and the park. The room was chosen because of the closeness to the dumbwaiter.
It had been a hassle to get the wounded man up, and down again, from the wagonette. The man, Mr Hatake, had been heavier than his lean frame suggested and carrying him up two flights of stairs without injuring him further did not warrant going well. So they had decided to cram him in the dumbwaiter. Iruka did not have any plans on telling that little titbit to Mr Hatake, as it had been most undignified.
Iruka had not lied, when he told Mr Hatake that he gave them, mostly him to be exact, a good scare. When Miss Haruno had informed him that the stranger had only suffered some heavy bruising and a broken wrist, he was more than relieved. And then he had felt remorseful. It was obvious Mr Hatake had taken a beating and to think that was something to feel relieved about was awful.
So Iruka had decided to dine with Mr Hatake, when he finally woke up after more than a day of unconsciousness. It had been out of kindness and a great deal of curiosity.
Even though Mr Hatake had a sash covering his left eye and black bruises on the jaw and cheek he seemed calm and, oddly enough, beautiful. Iruka had not been prepared to how much the stranger affected him but he had tried to not let it show. A single dark blue eye had fixed on him sharply and behind it were depths knowledge and pain and something savage Iruka would never be able to identify, living the life of the privileged.
The fire place in Iruka's chambers had been lit and the warmth welcomed him, when he walked inside. He went straight through his living room and into the bedroom. For an outsider the rooms were more suitable for a man of mediocre birth than a duke.
The colours were a pale emerald green and gold and the furniture was of rosewood and simply carved. There were books and parchment spread on most surfaces and the walls were devoid of paintings. Except for the space over the fire place where there hung a large painting of the sea. Instead of showing luxury the two rooms showed comfort and life. It that was truly all Iruka needed.
Iruka started preparing for the night. He took off his clothes and left them on a chair for Neji to take in the morning. The leather strap holding his hair was tossed recklessly on the dressing table. The bed had already been prepared for him and he slipped into the covers after blowing out the bee wax candle.
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It took three days before Miss Haruno deemed Kakashi healthy enough to leave his sick bed. By then he was more than ready to get up and get rid of the restless feeling that had taken hold of his body. Kakashi was known by his friends to be kind of lazy and blasé but that was of his own choosing. He did not like when that choice was taken away from him. It made him jitter and uneasy.
So when Iruka's valet came to his room with clothes and leather boots, he practically leaped out of bed to get dressed. The sun was shining on a clear sky and Kakashi wanted to breathe anything other than the stuffy air inside his room.
The clothes consisted of black wool trousers, a white shirt and a blue waistcoat with white embroidery. The white Ascot was ignored completely and Kakashi let the buttons of the high collar undone.
"Mr Hatake," there was a mild tone of annoyance in the valet's voice, "please, do calm down. Mr Umino would be displeased if you injured yourself further."
Kakashi stopped his scuffle with the boots and looked perturbed at Mr Hyuga. He had met the young man the morning – "Mr Hyuga, sir. Do not refer to me as anything else." - after he had dined with the duke. The valet had served him breakfast on a tray that day and the days that followed.
"I just want to go out and enjoy some fresh air. I have been cooped up in this room for too long. If I see one more minute of the draping above the bed, I'm going to scream like a woman. I can guarantee it will be horrid."
"Indeed it will, sir," was the blank reply from Mr Hyuga. "Mr Umino is waiting for you in the sitting room."
"What? Why?" Kakashi had finally managed to get the boots on and took the black eye patch, his own he recognised, Mr Hyuga held out to him.
"He wishes to see you for breakfast."
"It would be rude to declined, wouldn't it?" Kakashi said and tied the two strings together at the back of his head with an efficiency that spoke of a lengthy habit.
"Yes, sir." Mr Hyuga scoffed.
Kakashi looked longingly at the sky as the valet helped him slip into a black frock coat. He slapped Mr Hyuga's hands away gently when he tried to button the coat, "leave it."
"Follow me."
Mr Hyuga took Kakashi down a small staircase; obviously build for the servants to use. He was then lead through high ceiling drawing rooms, sitting rooms and parlours, all with their own colour schemes and themes. Kakashi had to stop and gape when they reached a great hall. A long table stood down the middle of it with fauteuil styled chairs at the sides.
An extravagant flower centrepiece stood on the middle of the table. The white tablecloth did not have a single crease or fold. The most impressive thing, though, were the two massive chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. The crystals sparkled in the morning sun, reflecting specks of blues, purple and greens on the cream coloured walls.
"This way, Mr Hatake." Mr Hyuga said impatiently and inclined to an open door. It was a sitting room with dark blue wallpaper; the fauteuils in this room were upholstered in unusual black velour. Iruka stood up from where he had been sitting at a set table, when he saw Kakashi. There was a bright smile on his face.
"Good morning." He greeted and bowed.
Kakashi bowed back, "Good morning," and sat down before he was told. An aggravated cough be heard behind him but Iruka just grinned at him and sat back down.
"You take your liberties, Mr Hatake." Iruka said and folded his news paper.
"For three nights you have dined with me in my, well technically your, room while I laid in bed dressed in nothing but a night gown. I think we are beyond formalities by now," Kakashi watched a pretty blush spreading on the duke's cheeks, "and you told me not to worry about formalities."
Iruka's sudden laugh was carefree and loud, and a little bit hoarse. "Yes, I did. I must have been a fool."
Kakashi beamed at him. Iruka had been a fool, indeed, and since that first night Kakashi had seen the duke as the man he was instead of the title he wore.
"It has been a long time anyone dared to call me by my first name, without my permission."
"But you gave me permission. No formality."
"No formality doesn't entail bad manners." Iruka's brown eyes were full of amusement.
"I never said I had manners, Iruka." Kakashi said mischievously.
Iruka laughed again and Kakashi joined in the brief merriment.
"Come now, Mr Hatake. Eat. I know you must be dying to get outside."
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After their first breakfast together, Iruka took Kakashi outside for a walk in the Manor's park. Iruka had made Mr Hatake wear a big scarf around his neck to keep warm from the cold bite of the wind.
Kakashi had declined a hat or gloves and was walking with his hands, improperly, buried in his trouser pockets. Iruka did not mind but he had still dressed up in his top hat and with the walkng cane in one hand.
They walked the paths in comfortable silence for a while. The sunlight was warm and some strong willed flowers were blooming, their bright petals adding a stash of colour to the garden. Iruka broke the silence after they passed the lake.
"I did not want this conversation inside. I trust every one of my staff, for the reason that they are my friends, but you can never be too cautious," He saw Kakashi nod. "Only tell me what you can. I will not interrupt or judge you. You have my word."
"I was stationed in the Land of Rivers at the border of the Land of Wind. This is where the conflicts are. The threat of a full blown has only just arisen but I am afraid that if it is not acted upon, accordingly, it will come to pass." Kakashi's voice could barely be heard over the gravel stones crunching under their boots.
"I cannot tell you much about what happened. It is not because I do not want to but because of you safety, and my own."
Iruka lead them to a stone platform where you could overlook the Manor fields. Kakashi sat down on the white painted iron bench. The silver tips of his silver hair were blowing softly in the breeze. His looked troubled at he stared at his folded hands. Iruka remained standing, giving Kakashi space to breathe.
"I, and some of my men, discovered that we have traitors amongst us. Powerful people, who only wish to see the Land of Fire fall but we were found out before we could gather enough evidence against them," Kakashi suddenly gazed up at Iruka. His dark blue eye glistened with unshed tears and his brow was furrowed.
"We were tricked and most of my men, my friends, were killed. The few of us, who survived, were framed, blamed for the murder of a highly respected Archduke in the Land of Rivers. I alone managed to escape on our supposed way back to Konohagakure. I do not believe the rest of my men to be alive." Kakashi took a shaky breath and Iruka could see the effort it took him to pull himself back together.
"I believe you, Kakashi." Iruka said quietly. Kakashi did not reply
Iruka hesitated but still dared to reach out and grasp Kakashi's uninjured hand. The hand was dry and rough skinned but warm. It was a bold move but Kakashi tightened the grip, on the verge of being painful, around Iruka's own hand. They were both lost to their own thoughts yet still grounded by their linked fingers.
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The mood was sombre a couple of days after the talk, with Iruka, in the gardens. It helped a little to finally meet all the staff of the manor, at the kitchen dinner table, in the evenings. The ones he had not met but only heard Iruka mentioning were Nara Shikamaru, who was keeper of the stable, Yamato, the head gardener – the only gardener from what Kakashi could understand but, apparently, Yamato liked the fancy title – and Sarutobi Asuma, who was in charge of the kitchen and the security of the manor. Kakashi had thought that strange but soon found out Asuma had been in the army.
The dinner services were joyful occasions and a lot of chatter got passed around the table along with the vegetables, meat and wine. Mr Hyuga was still appalled by Kakashi's lack of propriety towards Iruka so Kakashi did everything he could to use Iruka's first name and talk crudely. By the delight in Iruka's eyes he knew full well what Kakashi was doing.
What nagged Kakashi was how close Mr Hyuga sat to Shikamaru. No one else was deterred by their proximity and the way they could predict what the other needed without uttering a word. Asuma gruffly told him, after dinner, that the two young men were, indeed, married. Iruka was unhelpfully sniggering in the background.
Kakashi tried to spend as much time in Iruka's company as possible. The duke used the big library in the South wing as an office and Kakashi would commandeer an armchair by the windows overlooking the terrace. He would pretend to read while he, in reality, was watching Iruka work.
Kakashi had been fascinated by the man from the beginning but after living in the Umino Manor the duke had become an exotic mystery. There was no doubt that Iruka cared. He cared deeply about people but on the other side he still maintained a professional sternness that demanded that you do your part, to the utmost of your abilities. It was allowed to fail but then it was expected that you learned from your mistakes.
It was while Kakashi sat watching Iruka, a book open and forgotten in his lap that Neji burst through the library door. The scratching sound of a quill tip on paper stopped abruptly and Iruka looked up, startled.
"Neji, what on earth is the matter?"
"There is a carriage and ten horsemen coming down the alley road, sir."
"Oh," Iruka blinked in quick succession, "I have not received a letter there would be a visit."
"Pardon me, my lord, but I do not think they are here for a visit." Neji looked pointedly at Kakashi with his creepy eyes.
Iruka looked at Kakashi, then Mr Hyuga and then back to Kakashi, again, before he suddenly rushed up from his chair, knocking it backwards. It hit the carpeted floor with a muffled thunk.
"By the Gods, Neji. I forget how annoyingly intelligent you are."
"Thank you, sir."
"It was not a compliment." Iruka growled. Kakashi contained the roaring laughter bobbling in his chest by the stricken look on Mr Hyuga's face.
"Right now it is to your advantage, Mr Umino. We have time to stuff the stray in the dumbwaiter again." The retort was forced through clenched teeth and Kakashi was sure the 'Mr Umino' was Mr Hyuga's way of calling Iruka an imbecile. Kakashi did chuckle at this point until it struck him...
"Wait a minute... What do you mean by 'again'?
"Not now, Mr Hatake." Iruka grunted as both he and Mr Hyuga took him by the upper arms and hastily guided him towards the kitchen.
The sound of crunching stone and horse hooves became very real through the kitchen's open windows.
"Neji, go out and tell them I will be there shortly." Iruka whispered.
The valet let Kakashi go and hurried out to the arriving party. Asuma watched their interactions with bemusement, a stogie dangling from his lips. Kakashi gave him a salute and a cocky smile as he was, literally, stuffed inside the cramped dumbwaiter.
"I am going to suspend it between floors. If you cannot keep yourself quiet pretend you are a rat or another type of vermin."
"I don't think they'd fall for the giant rat strategy, Iruka."
"Shut up, Kakashi." Was the intelligent reply he got from Iruka.
At least he was kind enough to shove some hurriedly scrounged food into Kakashi's arms before he was hoisted up to spend, gods knew how many, uncomfortable hours in a dumbwaiter chute.
It seemed vaguely familiar.
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Iruka cursed all the way to the archway, which ran through the East wing. It had deliberately been designed to keep carriages from driving into the inner court yard since Iruka's great grandfather had decided that guests should arrive through one of the side doors in the archway. There had not been a reason to change it back after he died since it was easier to keep the inner court yard free from horse dung.
When Iruka actually saw who was waiting impatiently, it appeared, he broke out in a cold sweat. This... this was not good, in any way.
"Mr Orochimaru, if I had known of your..."
"Yes yes, Mr Umino," the name was spat out with an ugly sneer, "I will not stay long in this hovel you call a manor."
Iruka clenched his fists in concealed anger. "What is your purpose, then, for this surprised visit?"
Iruka had never cared for duke Orochimaru. The tall sickly pale man with long tar black hair, high cheekbones and uncanny eyes, which resembled those of a snake, was haughty, cruel and obnoxiously arrogant. He had a duchy further up North and from what Iruka had gathered at the annual royal parties he treated everyone, he thought beneath him, like slaves. He had started to have trouble in maintaining his luxurious life style and instead of finding blame in his own management he sought it elsewhere, mainly on the ones, who fared much better than he. Unfortunately Iruka was one of those persons.
"A convict and traitor escaped my army a few days ago. He may be the catalyst in starting a war so I volunteered to bring him before the King. You are not ignorant of the troubles at the border, are you?"
Orochimaru looked down his fine boned nose at Iruka.
"No, Mr Orochimaru. I am well aware."
"Then my men are allowed to search your grounds." It was said quickly and broke no argument. Iruka did not reply and watched attached as Orochimaru's men fanned out.
"Mr Umino. Tell me you at least have a decent parlour we can retreat to. And where is your stable boy? Does your servant have no discipline?"
Iruka glanced at Neji. He knew his valet and to everyone else he was unfazed by the events but Iruka knew he was seething inside. Neji had one sore spot and that was Shikamaru.
"He is on his way, I assure you. If you will follow my valet he will bring us to the parlour."
Orochimaru snorted and strode after Neji. He was followed closely by his personal spectacled valet.
Iruka dreaded the hours ahead of him and would rather sit beside Kakashi, in the dumbwaiter, and pretend to be a giant rat. At least that would be some kind of fun.
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"For a man death bent on stopping a war, he sure was quick to suggest I started thinking about a larger production of weapons and recruitment of soldiers, beyond the numbers I am acquired to have available."
Kakashi watched Iruka pace the library. He was absolutely livid.
"Did the weapon production involve a partnership with him?" Kakashi asked.
"Yes!" Iruka almost yelled. "I knew he was a slimy snake but this is insufferable."
"You said he's losing money. Iruka, war makes money."
Iruka stopped his pacing and sat down beside Kakashi on the fauteuil love seat.
"I know," he said tiredly, "I know."
"I have to leave."
Iruka shook his head repeatedly before saying, "no, you are safe here. I can keep you safe."
Kakashi sighed and took the liberty to grasp Iruka's hand.
"I know you can keep me safe. You've already kept me safe... but I need to figure out how to stop this war or at least try to clear my name."
Iruka had started rubbing his thumb tenderly on the back of Kakashi's hand. It was such a small touch and still it surged right to Kakashi's heart.
"I can help you. I have money and connections. The King is a good friend of mine. We can write to him and ask for an audience."
"No."
Iruka sprang up from the couch and turned on Kakashi. His eyes were blazing with a sudden outrage and hurt. "No? What do you mean by no? What do you expect to accomplish as one man?"
"You would be surprised at what one man is able to do if he has the strength and the will. And that is exactly why I must go alone. You have too much to lose."
Kakashi rose from the couch as well. He walked up to Iruka, who let him take both of his hands this time.
"I do not care about my wealth."
Kakashi nodded. He had come to figure that out.
"You do, however, care about your people. Whether you want it or not, you have power. And Orochimaru and, whoever he's associated with, are aware of that. If there is just the slightest opportunity to take that from you, they will pounce and tear you apart like a starving wolf pack. Then there will be no one to stand between them and the people, who depend on you."
"What about your broken wrist?"
"It will heal on the journey."
Iruka twisted his hands out of Kakashi's, turned around and walked briskly out of the library.
Kakashi was left standing with a feeling that maybe he had just lost something he never really dared believe had been his to begin with.
-x-
Kakashi was packing a brown leather satchel meticulously, making sure to take every advantage of the restricted space as he could. Every item, he packed into the bag, were things given to him by Iruka. When he was found he had had nothing but the green and black tattered uniform. Miss Haruno said they had burned it, it was that filthy.
Mr Hyuga had given him a warm foot long coat, gloves, a knit cap and the leather satchel so he could pack the things he had been allowed to keep. Kakashi had an inkling that it had not been Mr Hyuga own idea to bring him these things and it had ignited a little sparkle of hope that Kakashi did not have to leave the manor without saying goodbye to Iruka.
He had decided to leave at dawn and leaving as many miles between him and the manor, as he could, in the daylight. Any plans beyond that were to keep out of sight and stay alive, while he tried to find some of the few people he knew he could still trust.
"Mr Hatake?" Iruka stood hesitantly in the doorway, shuffling a little from foot to foot. He was dressed as casually as the first time Kakashi saw him
"Kakashi."
Iruka stepped into the room, "Kakashi," he repeated softly and smiled, "I am very sorry for my behaviour. What you said was right and I must fight the battles I fear are drawing closer to my home."
Kakashi swallowed the lump in his throat, when two fat tears rolled down Iruka's cheeks and got caught in the puckered scar.
They were at a standstill, neither of them having the courage to move closer. Kakashi didn't know what to say or what to do. In the end it was Iruka, who where brave enough to speak.
"I want you to stay here, with me."
"Iruka, don't."
And suddenly he had his arms full of a trembling duke. Kakashi embraced him and held on tight.
"I know you must go," Iruka whispered into Kakashi's neck, making a shiver run down his spine. "So you have to promise to come back."
Kakashi closed his eye and inhale the clean smell of Iruka. There was a place for him here and it would be beside Iruka, supporting him. Loving him.
"Will you make an honest man out of me if I do?"
There came a sort of sobbed laugh from Iruka and he squeezed Kakashi tight and answered fiercely, "yes!"
"Good," Kakashi said, a bit relieved, and undid the strap from Iruka's hair so he could run his fingers through the brown locks, "because I will miss this splendid manor, especially all the silver."
Iruka snorted rather undignified.
-x-
When Iruka finally tried to untangle himself, Kakashi held fast.
"Stay with me tonight."
"Kakashi."
His name was said breathlessly and Kakashi did not give Iruka any choice. There were no guarantees in his safe return so if he should be killed or captured, he would have this, if only for tonight.
Kakashi pushed Iruka to the bed, watching his flushed red cheeks and dark eyes. There was nothing romantic or sweet about their first kiss. It was rough and tinged with desperate need, their teeth clashing painfully but neither of them cared. They were too busy digging after soft flesh and warm skin in the layers of clothes. Their lovemaking was fast forceful. Iruka whimpering when Kakashi slid down his cock, unprepared and only with spit to ease the way.
It was how Kakashi wanted it. He wanted to feel Iruka in the morning and not doubt that maybe it had all been a wishful dream. At cold nights this was the Iruka he would remember best. The brown skin than shimmered with sweat in the candlelight, his cheeks flushed with arousal and his lips that were plump and ripe from Kakashi's kisses.
It did not take long for them to reach completion and when their heartbeats had calmed and they had settled under the covers Kakashi fell asleep wrapped in Iruka's arms, allowing him to keep Kakashi safe for the last hours of the night.
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Iruka woke up alone. Kakashi's side of the bed was still warm, when he let a hand slide over the sheets. Iruka hid his face in the pillows trying to trace Kakashi's lingering smell.
There had been no goodbye but Iruka would like to believe that the tender kisses on his scar were not an imagination.
The alley road was muddy from the fallen dew, dampening the footsteps of Kakashi's leather boots. He forced himself not to look back at the place where his life had been like Heaven for such a short time. He moved forward with stubborn determination and a soul in love.
Kakashi had a tough road ahead of him but, he knew, that no matter how broken it would get or how bloody, he would find that single path that would lead him back to Iruka. Because he had left his heart behind and he very well couldn't live without it.
The End

