#a part of me wished we had a closer look at ikkaku’s reaction

[cyhyr]

Summer of Whump Day 5: Broken

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: T 

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi & Umino Iruka, potential pre-relationship.

WC: ~1650

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply; kid/teenage whump; referenced abusive relationship; referenced child death

Notes: An AU-ish wherein Kakashi and Iruka were always friendly, if not friends, as kids. It’s implied that Iruka and Mizuki are a thing, but you can read it as platonic. Takes place over Kakashi and Iruka’s teenage years.

A/N: Iruka is my new favorite character to whump. I’m not sorry. He’s so pretty when he breaks; and putting him back together is just as fun.

~

Kakashi knows he’s being distant. Who wouldn’t be, after this? Obito is dead, and it’s his fault, and Rin and Minato-sensei and Gai and the rest of the village could whisper and point and pity him but he knows and accepts it. 

The only one who won’t accept it blindly is Iruka. Kakashi isn’t sure if he’s angry or elated by this. Iruka wasn’t the first to ask what happened, when their team came back without Obito, but he was the first to sit and ask Kakashi, how can I help?

He didn’t have an answer two weeks ago when Iruka asked. He still doesn’t have an answer now, as he’s avoiding Kohari-san’s third invitation to dinner this week. He’s declined them all. Kakashi likes Ikkaku-san’s cooking, and the Umino house is warm and inviting.

But he doesn’t deserve it.

He watches from afar as his friendship with Iruka, once a casual playmate the Umino family had insisted upon and the Sandaime had agreed to, deteriorates into acquaintanceship. Then, further into something closer to strangers. They wave to each other in the village, but no more than that. Besides, Iruka is a good kid and makes friends easily.

Mizuki hangs onto Iruka like a leech, and Kakashi will soon wish he could have paid closer attention to that simile.

~

After the Kyūbi, Kakashi doesn’t spend a lot of time in the village. He’s running missions in ANBU with minimal breaks, often alone. He still wakes up with the furious obsession to wash Rin’s blood off his hand, but it’s not so frequent anymore. Sometimes, he catches himself on track to a panic attack and can stop them before they start.

He’s feeling… well, not great, but not bad. 

It’s helpful to stay busy.

It’s not helpful to slip into the Hokage’s office and see Iruka playing go with the Sandaime in complete silence. Kakashi’s glad for both masks now—Iruka and silence never went together before. He has a leaf headband now, an official shinobi. When did that happen, Kakashi wonders.

“Hound, have you met Iruka?” the Sandaime asks. He knows the answer, of course, but who’s Kakashi to say old Sarutobi doesn’t have a plan up his sleeve.

“I’ve seen him around the village,” Kakashi says, keeping his answer vague.

Iruka doesn’t react. He’s still staring at the board—no, wait.

He’s staring past the board.

What is this… 

“Umino Iruka is a promising young genin,” Sarutobi talks him up, as though Kakashi needs to hear it. “Some of his traps have caught patrolling ANBU unawares. Non-lethal, of course,” the Hokage adds with a smile and a huff, “Iruka has the utmost respect for our fellow shinobi.”

“And yet he sets traps for them?” Kakashi asks, honestly curious. This is a different side of Iruka he hasn’t met yet. He’d like to.

They both turn to Iruka, waiting to see if he’ll respond for himself. He doesn’t.

Sarutobi sighs. “That was a year or so ago,” he says. “We haven’t had any incidents since Iruka graduated. Some of the ANBU are bored.”

Iruka fidgets with the cuffs of his sleeves. 

Kakashi tilts his head curiously, trying to ask the Hokage the question pulsing in his mind now that Iruka is bringing attention to it.

Why is Iruka wearing long sleeves in summer?

“Mizuki says traps are for kids,” Iruka murmurs. He stands up. “Please excuse me, Hokage-sama, Hound-san.”

Sarutobi waves Iruka away, and turns to Kakashi. “I have, unofficially, taken that child under my guidance. But four months ago he stopped confiding in me, and when he speaks it’s to tell me of some new idea this Mizuki friend of his has taught him. Today, I brought up the traps. Other topics Mizuki has poisoned him on include his desire to pursue fūinjutsu as a potential specialty, the effectiveness of their jōnin-sensei, his sense of humor, and his height.”

“His height, sir?” 

“Mizuki hasn’t hit a growth spurt yet,” Sarutobi explains. “Apparently, this means that Iruka needs to slouch so they’re still eye-to-eye.” His frown, if possible, deepens. “You two were close once, weren’t you?”

“It’s been years.”

Sarutobi says nothing more, but he doesn’t need to. Kakashi doesn’t appreciate being manipulated, and wouldn’t put it past the Hokage to have invited Iruka for tea and go when he knew Kakashi would be reporting in. But, there’s a part of him that is relieved that someone is looking out for Iruka. And there’s another part of him that is ready to take over; he seems to have Sarutobi’s silent approval, if nothing else.

~

The work never stops long enough for him to properly get back in touch with Iruka. He watches from the rooftops as Iruka fakes his way through the days, and then goes home to the apartment he shares with the so-called friend Mizuki. And maybe Kakashi isn’t there often enough to see it, or Mizuki knows when they’re being watched, or Iruka had confided in his roommate that the Hokage took an interest in their relationship—but long sleeves in summer never happen again.

That said, the emotional damage the boy leaves Iruka with makes Kakashi wonder if Sarutobi acted too quickly, or not enough, or—

Anyway, the point is, Iruka almost doesn’t survive the chūnin exams, and Kakashi doesn’t know whether to blame himself, Sandaime-sama, or Mizuki. Iruka is gravely injured in the second phase because he put himself between Mizuki and an Iwa genin; Iruka had been buried and had it not been for their third teammate even noticing that Iruka was gone and then unearthing him, he would have suffocated.

Mizuki, by the testimony of the onlooking jōnin, hadn’t tried to save Iruka. He did force the Iwa cell to retreat, though. He’ll make chūnin at the end of this.

At the end of the month, they both make chūnin. Kakashi is surprised, but happy for him. 

Iruka is still slouching, though.

~

They serve together, once, after he’s pulled from ANBU. 

Kakashi can’t reconcile the dull, lifeless, quiet young man with the near-obnoxiously loud boy he knew as a child. Was this Mizuki still in his life? How had Iruka not made better friends by now? As a child he used to be surrounded by friends, forcing Kakashi to play with little kids even if he’d had missions to go on.

He tries everything he can think of to get a reaction out of Iruka. He tells bad jokes, tries reminiscing on their shared childhood, asks questions about Iruka’s life, tells good jokes, cooks bad food, refuses to assist in setting up camp—nothing gets a reaction. 

The mission—the one from the Hokage, not just Kakashi’s self-imposed one—fails spectacularly. Really, Kakashi can’t think of a worse way for it to fuck up.

But there’s a silver lining.

On the way back to Konoha, they stop for the night. No fire, no camp; they rough it in the trees. Kakashi lets one leg hang off the branch he’s sitting on and leans his back against the trunk. Iruka sits a little further out, shoulders hunched forward, both feet dangling off the branch. He kicks his legs back and forth gently. It’s endearing.

“I’m sorry,” Iruka murmurs. It’s the first time in years that Iruka has said something to him unprompted.

“Don’t be,” Kakashi sighs. “You don’t have the kind of experience I do. You can’t have known those kids weren’t innocent.”

He seems to shrink into himself further. It’s odd; Iruka’s not a small man, but at the moment he seems adamant in taking up as little space as possible. “Please don’t excuse my weakness,” Iruka says. “I know I’m not cut out for this. I shouldn’t have—”

“Stop.”

Thank the gods, he does. Kakashi takes a few breaths to collect himself, then continues.

“I signed up to captain a duo team with Umino Iruka,” he says, “not your ‘friend,’ Mizuki.”

Iruka turns to him, confused. “Wha—?”

“Don’t repeat his words back to me,” Kakashi says. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m not. Mizuki is—”

“You’re not weak. You were chosen to be on this mission because of your expertise in fūinjutsu—which you learned behind Mizuki’s back, didn’t you?”

Iruka flushes. Half of his mouth twitches in a ghost of a smile. His shoulders roll back and he straightens, just a bit. “It’s just really fascinating,” he breathes. 

There he is.  

“Yes, the mission failed. Yes, if you had killed the kids when I ordered it the first time, it probably would have been successful,” Kakashi watched Iruka’s face fall again, and moved along the tree branch until he was next to Iruka and able to put a hand on his shoulder. “If you had done it, would it have been you, though?”

Iruka shivers. “They were just children,” he whispers.

“And they tried to kill you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first ones.”

“And won’t be the last.”

Iruka leans into him. Kakashi lets him, even braces an arm around his back to keep him close. “I missed this,” Iruka whispers.

“Failing missions? Talking about killing children?”

“Us.”

“You’ve had Mizuki,” Kakashi ventures.

“And he’s great—in, like, small doses.” Iruka doesn’t look up at him, but Kakashi can see him fidget with his shirt cuffs again, just like he had in the Hokage’s office years ago. “It took a long time for me to see that.”

Kakashi looks out into the woods and imagines being here under different circumstances. Maybe in a few more years. “You’re getting better. When we left, I couldn’t get you to look at me with anything other than apathy. Now look at us.”

“It’s nice.” Iruka kicks one of his legs out harder, faster; a nervous tick. “Mizuki… he doesn’t like me having other friends.”

“He can take that up with me,” Kakashi says. “I might have left for a while, but I was here first. And I plan on staying this time.”

Iruka smiles.

Just like before. Just for a second. It’s enough.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump5 #broken #fanfic #umino iruka #hatake kakashi #my writing

[blameitonthebleach]

Well hello there! I would like to request some good ol' Yumichika. I want some fluff where he's pouty because he thinks that you think Ruri'iro Kujaku is more attractive than he is... Thanks in advance! Love your work!

Hello, “anon” you sneaky shit! This prompt is so funny to me, I almost didn’t even know where to start. I hope you enjoy it!

“Yumi… Are you still sulking?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He’d been like this since yesterday, unreasonably upset because you happened to to think his Zanpakuto was quite pretty. After the fiasco with Muramasa concluded, you had simply voiced your opinion on his partner’s appearance (before he’d reverted back to just a blade)–earning Ruri’iro’s gratitude, and a rather nice compliment on your beauty in return–and Yumichika had been grumpy ever since. It wasn’t so bad that he was avoiding you, but there was definitely a chill in the air that could rival Captain Hitsugaya. He refused to make eye contact for long, and the permanent grimace on his face was clue enough that this “argument” needed to be settled. 

“I am not sulking,” Yumichika countered, still not looking at you. 

Most everyone in the Seireitei had a collective “day off” to recover, including the two of you. You had wanted to spend the day together, talk, maybe go look at some shops, but with the way your boyfriend was acting…that wasn’t likely. Ikkaku had long since departed the Eleventh Division compound, stating that he “couldn’t take this awkward atmosphere,” and that it was “stifling,” so you sat, staring at Yumichika’s back as he pouted. 

You’d had enough.

“Oh, really?” you challenged, then gestured between you. “What’s this, then? A new way of wooing me? Because being ignored is such a turn-on.” He shot you a glare over his shoulder, pinning you with beautiful purple eyes as he opened his mouth. 

“You think Fuji Kujaku is prettier than me,” he retorted, swiveling his body just so he wasn’t straining his neck to scowl at you. 

You blinked at him in open astonishment, unsure of even where to begin. For starters, you understood that he used the name “Fuji Kujaku” in battle so as not to be ostracized by his squad for his kido-type Zanpakuto, but now he was just being petty. And was that really what he thought? That you were somehow more attracted to his Zanpakuto’s spirit than your own boyfriend? Bullshit.

“What in hell gave you that impression?” you yelled. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It didn’t seem so ridiculous when you were complimenting him right after the battle,” he argued. “’Wow, you’re really beautiful! How do you get your skin to look like that?’ Wasn’t that what you said?”

“Wha–? Yes? I honestly don’t remember exactly what I said, but what’s wrong with that? Why can’t I give compliments where they’re due?”

“You can, but not to that lousy, no good narcissist who thinks that the world revolves around him!” He was fully facing you now, hands clenched in front of him in frustration, mouth twisted into a deep frown with a furrow between his brows.

This was starting to give you a headache. He should know that one’s Zanpakuto was a compliment to their own soul, and that most of what applied to Ruri’iro Kujaku also applied to himself. After all, Zanpakuto were an extension of oneself, and to ignore that fact was futile. Seeing as this was going nowhere fast, you decided that simmering down was your best course of action. With a long sigh, you settled into a seiza position, hands placed neatly on your lap, and looked Yumichika in the eye, chin held high in slight defiance.

“I do not think Ruri’iro Kujaku is prettier than you,” you stated.

“Then what–”

“Yumi,”–you held up a hand–”first of all, I’m dating you. Not your Zanpakuto, you. Since the first day we met, I’ve always thought you were strikingly gorgeous–to an unreasonable degree, I might add–and sometimes I find it hard to believe that you give me the time of day.”

Yumichika settled back down, only just, but at least his hands were down at his sides again. His gaze was contemplative, questioning, like he wasn’t quite sure whether or not to believe you, but he didn’t interrupt and let you say your piece.

“Second, your Zanpakuto is a part of you, even if it pains you so. Sorry, but your personalities are incredibly similar. It’s a fact that when people are too similar, they tend to butt heads, but such is the bond of a shinigami and their sword. Therefore, of course I’m going to think he’s attractive. He’s a part of your soul, a soul I love very dearly.”

With that off your chest, you were finding that the wind in your sails was dying down, and your initial zeal had dissipated. There was silence following your confession, the buzz of cicadas the only thing to fill the void, and you averted your gaze, cheeks burning ever so slightly. Blunt confessions of love weren’t really your thing, but you were sure he wouldn’t understand unless you spelled it out for him. He was simultaneously fiercely observant and oblivious, a rather odd combination. Perhaps “stubborn” was a better word.

Peeking up through your lashes to gauge his reaction, you were met with the same steely glare as before, but there was something there that puzzled you. Before you could decipher what it was, he closed his eyes and let out an irritated sigh, flipping his hair in an unconscious gesture.

“Why do you always have to be right?” he quipped, piercing you with those eyes again. They always left you unable to move, one of the few things in this world that really got your heart racing. It didn’t seem like he was completely appeased, but the smirk on his beautiful features promised of reconciliation. 

Quick as a whip, Yumichika had your wrist in an iron grip–proving once again that looks could be deceiving–and was hauling you into his lap. With a yelp, you braced your hands against his chest, eyes wide. Your chin grasped gently between his fingers, he grinned at you with sultry eyes, running a thumb over your pretty pink lips.

“This Zanpakuto of mine and I can agree on one thing, at least,” he purred. Too stunned to do much of anything besides stare, you gulped.

“W-What’s that?” Oh, how the situation had changed.

“After meeting you face to face,” he continued, “we both agree that, regardless of what you think, you’re stunning in your own right.” You could feel your eyelids getting heavier, lidded as your chest filled with warmth.

“…Really?”

“Really. Your character is just as dazzling as your outward appearance, and something I admire. So…” Indulging you for just a moment, he placed a kiss on your waiting lips, grinning all the while, and chuckling when you followed after him when he pulled away. “…How are you going to prove to me that I’m your number one?”

“You’re so unfair…” you mumbled, clutching the fabric of his shihakusho tighter in your delicate hands. “I already told you my feelings, why do you have to be a jerk?”

He thread his fingers through your hair, scrunching his fingers through it as his eyes twinkled with mischief. “You bring out the best in me,” he teased.

“More like worst,” you scoffed, but cupped his face to bring him closer. 

Closing your eyes, you reveled in the feeling of his soft lips on yours, savored the taste of his mouth as your kiss deepened. Promises of reparations flowed between you as you shivered at his caresses. You were so close to pushing him down, intending to make good on his wishes of “proving” he was your number one, when he suddenly stopped. Confused, you pulled back to look at him, noting the look of disgust and annoyance that distorted his face.

“What’s that look for?” you asked, mentally panicking that you’d done something wrong.

“That damn Fuji Kujaku’s trying to pick a fight,” he growled. “I suppose our connection is stronger since being manifested, but he just won’t shut up. How irritating.”

You couldn’t help it, and snorted, devolving into a fit of giggles at the thought of Ruri’iro Kujaku making offhand comments inside Yumichika’s head. Yumichika wasn’t nearly as amused, and scowled at you as you laughed, remarking that he didn’t think it was funny at all, and that it was actually a nuisance. This only made you laugh harder, and your love-proving was put on hold until later that evening.

#anonymous #blameitonthebleach #yumichika ayasegawa #sfw #bleach headcanons #bleach imagines #bleach scenario #this was so much fun #i really hope i did it justice