Title: Former Lives
Author: JBMcDragon
Status: Complete
Rating: R for violence and language

Summary: The sequel to The Kakashi Mission. Things are not perfect in any relationship, but even Kakashi knows something really isn't right in theirs.

Prologue and chapter 1




A/N: Because people asked... the fillers I used for this story with Mizuki start at episode 142. There's . . . five of them? Something like that. But you don't need to watch them to get the story, just know that Mizuki was imprisoned, gained large muscles, escaped, told Iruka they were never friends, tried to kill him, and then died from a jutsu gone wrong (sorta). :)


Chapter Two
Then (just the day after The Talk with Genma)

He woke with a blinding headache and someone pounding on his apartment door. Iruka staggered up, crashing down the hall and yanking on the front knob.

Naruto beamed at him.

"Iruka-sensei!" the child yelled, flinging himself through the air to latch onto Iruka's neck.

Iruka staggered back, trying not to either fall or curse at the human rocket. "Naruto," he said, gathering his wits. "What are you doing here? I thought you and Jiraiya--"

"Pervert-Sannin has something for Tsunade-baa-chan and--" Naruto stopped mid-babble. Big blue eyes narrowed alarmingly. "Hey hey, isn't that Kakashi-sensei's book?"

Iruka followed the pointing finger to a box he'd somehow missed the night before. It was sitting beside the couch, filled with pornography, and right on top was one of the Icha Icha novels. Iruka grabbed his coat and flung it over the whole thing. "Ah, never mind that," he said quickly. "Kakashi must have left it--"

"Left it? Kakashi-pervert was here?" Naruto asked suspiciously.

Iruka's heart sank. How long since Naruto had been home? He was pretty sure he and Kakashi's relationship was going to be news to the boy; the preteen had been gone for months. Iruka wasn't sure he had the energy to explain it, either.

"Hey hey! Is Kakashi-sensei getting you to help him with Sakura?" Naruto asked brightly.

Iruka grabbed at the life raft. "Yes! Yes, I'm helping him with some, ah, things. Like that. With Sakura." Not his most brilliant lie ever, and he felt vaguely guilty for saying it at all, but it was *early.*

"I'm gonna see Sakura later today!" Naruto announced, distracted from the books.

Iruka nodded as if he was actually paying attention and headed for the kitchen. He listened to Naruto's great plans for getting Sakura to go on a date with him, and downed three painkillers.

He glanced at the bottle, then swallowed a fourth. His stomach was going to protest, but his head was *killing* him.

"--An' then I'm gonna remind her that it's my birthday today and so--"

Iruka paused. He glanced at his refrigerator, covered with photos and drawings and newspaper clippings.

Naruto's birthday was today.

The fox would have been sealed within him the next day.

Iruka’s father died fourteen years ago. His mother had followed soon after. He could smell it, suddenly. The old blood scent of the tents they'd put outside to treat the wounded, when the hospitals got too full. The screams of people in pain. The sobbing of a child, standing beside a mutilated corpse. Doctors in mud-spattered white and nurses with pink-stained hands.

His father's glassy eyes staring upward, at nothing.

Iruka swallowed bile.

Naruto was still talking.

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to force back the memories. His head was killing him.

He swallowed a fifth painkiller, put the bottle away, and dug through his cupboards until he found some bread. Something to cushion all the pills he'd just taken.

"Breakfast, Naruto?" he asked, glancing over.

"YEAH!"

Iruka froze, mid-smile. Naruto's eyes glowed red, the marks on his cheeks stretching like bloody scars. Then it was gone, and only Naruto was left, bounding onto the couch.

Iruka rubbed his eyes. Then he turned and put bread into the toaster.

**
Many years before

Someone stumbled over him and he crashed hard against the wall, flattening himself there. A hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Shit. Shit! Someone get this *kid* out of here! You hurt, kid?"

Iruka shook his head, staring down the hall. They'd taken his mother away. He started after her.

"Someone get him out of here!" the man bellowed again, hand tightening in Iruka's shirt. Iruka tried to pull away. His shirt tore.

They'd taken his mother down the hall. Only people who were near death were allowed into the hospital. Everyone else was being treated outside. She was bleeding. She was dying. He'd seen her. He needed to go--

"Come on, boy," a new voice said, and an arm around his middle picked him up and carried him toward the hospital doors. "Out with you. We're trying to help people, and you’re in the way. You don't want to be in the way, do you?"

Air hit him, cool and smoke-filled. It washed the scent of antiseptic out of his hair, leaving behind the stink of blood. "No," Iruka said softly. He didn't want to be in the way.

His mother was in there.

"Here. Take this to that nurse," the man said, pushing a box into Iruka's hands.

Iruka stared at the hospital doors.

"Go!" the man yelled.

Iruka jumped and turned away, running through the make-shift camp where those not dying were being treated. He fled toward a nurse in the far corner, trying not to think.

His mother was inside.

**
Then (Just after Naruto's return)

Iruka stood in front of the monument, staring at names unseeingly. So many dead.

Naruto had turned fourteen the day before.

Someone screamed, and Iruka let it wash over him, knowing it was only in his memory.

Funny, all the things that could happen in a single year. The year before this had been hard, but not this hard. He hadn't known Naruto. Not personally.

He hadn't watched an exuberant blond celebrate his birthday with ramen and cheer, and known that it heralded the death of so many others.

Not that Naruto being born had killed them, of course. Iruka supposed Naruto's birth had saved the rest of the village. It had given the Fourth a place to put the Kyuubi.

His mind knew that. His emotions didn't seem to care.

The year before, he'd been able to hate Naruto and to grieve for his parents.

This year, he had to wish Naruto a happy birthday. He had to watch the whiskered face grin, and be reminded of rows of fox teeth ripping through delicate flesh.

Iruka rubbed his face with both hands, and turned away from the monument. Things were just *hard* right now. It would be better. He just needed to sleep.

Sleep without dreaming of fire and smoke and blood, like he had the night before. Sleep without hearing people sob and his parents scream. Sleep without waking in a cold sweat, crying wretchedly into his pillow.

He missed Kakashi, and he was glad the man wasn't there to witness his midnight breakdown. He felt guilty enough for breaking. He'd lost his parents. So many others had lost so much more.

"Iruka-sensei!" Naruto crowed, barreling through the trees and coming to a screeching halt, hopping from one foot to the other. "Iruka-sensei, Jiraiya-pervert says we have to leave this afternoon, so I wanted--"

"Lunch? Ramen?" Iruka suggested, the words a knee-jerk reflex to the beaming face.

"YEAH! But I was gonna say to tell Kakashi ‘hi’ and Sakura still wouldn't go out with me last night, even though it was my birthday." Naruto sighed heavily.

Iruka remembered hot breath, steaming through black nostrils. He shook the thought away. His temples throbbed. "I'll tell him, and I'm sorry about Sakura," he said, starting back toward his apartment. "Why don't we eat at my house, and then you can leave from there to meet up with Jiraiya?"

Iruka suspected the Sannin was trying to get Naruto away before too many people realized he was there. At the apartment, fewer would see the boy.

"COOL!" Naruto said, leaping sideways along the path. "Hey hey! Iruka-sensei, I have this great new technique--"

**

It seemed unreal. All of it. Ramen heating--take-out from Ichiraku--next to the refrigerator, where he had pinned pictures of his dead parents. The creature that had killed them bounded around the main room, asking if their food was ready.

"Almost," Iruka said, moving as though in a haze. Too tired, he thought. He just needed more sleep.

Someone was screaming. It was only in his mind, he knew that. But someone was still screaming.

Crying.

Whispering.

*Kill the fox. It killed us.*

He pulled two bowls out of the cupboard and spooned soup into them. Hot water splashed up on his hand, and somehow it simply didn't burn. He watched it, watched his skin turn an angry red. He picked up the rag and wiped up the few drops that had landed on the counter.

His mother screamed. She sobbed. His father, a hundred yards away, was torn in two by claws. He choked and gurgled in pain.

It hadn't happened that way.

They wouldn't stop screaming.

He rubbed his forehead, hoping to lessen the headache. It didn’t work.

*Kill the fox.*

If they would just stop *screaming.*

Naruto kept talking, loud and brash.

Iruka put the rag back in the sink. Then he pulled bleach out from a cupboard and poured it into one of the bowls. Two spoons, one for each, and some chopsticks, and he smiled and handed a bowl to Naruto.

Naruto grinned and chattered and practically inhaled his food. He laughed cheerfully, full of life and love and so excited to be eating at Iruka-sensei's house, where he'd only been a few times before and Iruka-sensei was the *greatest* 'cause no one else gave him ramen.

And bleach.

The haze cleared.

"Naruto!" Iruka yelled, panicked, as the boy's face grew suddenly pinched and he coughed, looking vaguely surprised.

Iruka stared.

Naruto coughed again. He started to gag and stopped, wrist over his mouth. "Uh, Iruka-sensei, I think that food was bad."

Iruka froze. He couldn't have. He couldn't have just--

He whipped around, staring at the sink. The bleach sat there, uncapped. He'd just poisoned Naruto.

His skin went cold.

Naruto was his student. Naruto was practically family. He loved Naruto, cared deeply for him, felt he knew the boy--

He'd just poisoned him.

"Iruka-sensei," Naruto said quietly. "I don't feel . . . I don't . . ."

Iruka grabbed him by the back of his jacket, hauling him into the kitchen. He snatched a glass from a cupboard and filled it with water, nearly bending Naruto backward and pouring it into the boy's mouth.

Naruto gasped, swallowing, then began to cough again. His mouth was blistering.

"Iruka-sensei--I--breathe--"

How much had he had? Too much. But it couldn't have had much time--if he made the boy vomit--no, no, that was bad with bleach. Water. Milk.

Iruka filled the glass again and tried to pour it into Naruto.

Naruto was gasping.

Iruka slung the boy up onto his back and raced out of the apartment.

Across the rooftops.

He'd poisoned Naruto.

The hospital wasn't far. Iruka knew all the shortcuts. He ran in through the emergency doors, smelling vomit on his vest as Naruto threw up.

"Help!" he bellowed, though it wasn't really necessary. They'd seen him and were running. Someone took Naruto, someone else got a gurney. They were wheeling him away almost instantly, and a nurse was firing questions at Iruka.

"Bleach," Iruka said, watching the little body vanish down a hall. "He had--I don't know--maybe half a cup of bleach?"

He'd poisoned Naruto.

"I gave him water, he only ate it a few minutes ago--"

"How do you know this, Sensei?" the nurse asked.

Iruka froze. "I poisoned Naruto." He couldn't breathe. He looked at her for the first time. "I--I didn't--"

She backed away from him slightly. "All right. Just sit down. We'll take care of it."

He didn't know if she meant Naruto or him. Either way, he wasn't about to run. He melted down into a chair and waited.

Waited to hear about Naruto.

Waited for the police.

He'd poisoned Naruto.

**

He sat, handcuffed in a chair in the cells, and waited.

Ibiki was there. So was Hiashi.

"I don't see any jutsu," Hiashi said after a long silence.

Iruka stared at his feet, shivering slightly. The headache was gone.

"Iruka-sensei," Ibiki said quietly, "do you feel different?"

They'd been studying him for nearly twenty minutes. Looking for jutsu, for anything about him that might say he wasn't in his right mind.

He was, though. "I feel like myself," Iruka said through numb lips.

Hiashi left. Ibiki pulled up a chair and sat down, crossing one ankle over the other knee. "Tell me what happened."

Iruka took a deep breath and looked up. "I took him home for ramen. I was . . . I was heating it, and . . ." he'd tried to kill Naruto. Iruka closed his eyes. He was shaking. "My parents wouldn't stop screaming," he heard himself whisper. "And there was Naruto, laughing and smiling . . . and I poured bleach into his ramen." Naruto was probably dead.

"Revenge?" Ibiki asked quietly.

Iruka shook his head. "No. Not that I meant . . . I suppose it was. I don't know what happened. I didn't even realize what I'd done until . . . until . . ."

"Bleach has fumes," Ibiki said. "How'd you get him to eat it?"

Iruka shrugged slightly. "I think he ate it before the fumes even registered. He eats . . . quickly. And he trusted me."

He'd eaten the whole bowl in under three seconds.

Iruka could still smell vomit on his shirt.

"Is he alive?" Iruka whispered. "Please tell me if he's all right." His vision blurred.

"I don’t know," Ibiki answered mildly. "Iruka-sensei, do you realize what the penalty is for attempting to murder a ninja?"

Iruka shuddered. "Yes." Death, sometimes. Life imprisonment, others.

Ibiki was silent. "You didn't try to escape," he said after a while.

"No," Iruka murmured.

There was a long pause. "Shit," Ibiki muttered. The chair scraped across wood as he stood. His footsteps echoed. The door closed behind him.

Iruka stared at the floor in the dark. He'd tried to kill Naruto. The memories were already starting to blur.

Amid the screams that still wouldn’t stop, the ones he remembered too well, the ones that had never happened, he thought he heard someone laugh.

**

"Umino Iruka," Ibiki said, hours later, standing outside Iruka's cell, "after reviewing your testimony, you are hereby sentenced to fifteen minutes of illusory jutsu, type still to be determined."

Iruka stood against the back wall and stared at his feet. Even without looking though, he could feel the man's mask fall, the walls come down, turning him from effective and ruthless interrogator to near-human.

"Do you have anything further to say?" Ibiki asked softly. "Any reason?"

Iruka shook his head.

"If you did have something to say, if you think you weren't in your right mind, we'll listen."

Iruka shook his head again. He could remember doing it. It was fuzzy now, and seemed alien, but he could remember it.

He missed Kakashi.

"All right," Ibiki said quietly. "We'll come for you tonight."

"Why aren't you executing me?" Iruka asked before he could stop. Silence stretched, and he looked up.

Ibiki's face was pale, drawn. "Shizune thinks that you had a--a break with reality. It's a reason not to . . ." Ibiki scowled at his shoes. "A reason not to do anything permanent."

Iruka nodded slowly. He felt like he ought to be executed. Imprisoned. Something. A psychotic break was almost worse than planned revenge; it meant it could happen again.

He shivered. "Naruto--?"

"In the hospital still. Alive," Ibiki said.

Iruka nodded, relieved. Ibiki stood there, not looking at him but waiting for any other questions. They weren't really treating him like a criminal. Iruka stared at his feet. "How bad will the jutsu be?" he asked finally, voice no more than a whisper.

Ibiki was very quiet. "Bad," he said at last. Then he left.

**

Kakashi wandered back into the village slowly, nursing a twisted ankle and trying NOT to look like he was nursing a twisted ankle. If he did, they'd doubtlessly throw him back toward the hospital, and he really didn't feel like sneaking out at the moment.

This would heal on its own. No reason to worry.

He went to his apartment, sitting carefully on the futon and pulling off his sandal. He set it to one side, rolled up his pants, and eyed the injury.

Slightly swollen, but not dangerously so. He limped to the bathroom, gathered supplies, and headed back to the futon. He wrapped it carefully; under the arch of his foot, up over the top, around the ankle and back again. He taped the bandage in place, tested the tightness with one finger, and stood.

It would hold.

He eyed the foot for a long moment, not really seeing it. He'd left without talking to Iruka. It had been a few days; hopefully the Chuunin wouldn't still be upset. If he wasn't mad, then they could talk now.

They wouldn't talk about sex, Kakashi thought bitterly. Iruka never did. Kakashi glanced at the empty spot where his box of books and a good deal of porn usually sat, but it was gone. He'd left it at Iruka's, hoping the man might look. If that *was* the difference between them, then it might help.

If it wasn't the difference, Kakashi was at a loss.

Still, it had been long enough that Iruka at least would have calmed down.

Kakashi headed to the Chuunin's place.

It was empty when he got there. Something niggled at the back of his mind.

Two ramen bowls, one full of soggy noodles, the other empty. The place smelled like bleach. He glanced around, saw the container uncapped on the counter, and shifted closer to put it away. When he went around the low wall separating kitchen and main room, he saw the shattered glass.

By the sink. Broken into tiny pieces. No one had bothered to pick it up.

He bolted for the hospital.

**

Tsunade sat in her office, the Copy Ninja before her looking casually dangerous. Raidou had waylaid him on the way to the hospital and dragged him here--not without a fight, from the look on Raidou's scarred face.

"Is Iruka--"

"Fine," Tsunade interrupted. Then she thought about his mental state and winced. "Safe," she corrected. "Kakashi, sit."

"I'd rather stand," he said, too calmly.

Tsunade's hands tightened. Still, she took a deep breath and relaxed again. There had to be a way to break this news to Kakashi without just saying it.

No matter how much Tsunade had thought about it, though, she still hadn't come up with one. Eventually, she dove right in. "Iruka fed Naruto bleach."

Kakashi went stiff without moving.

"Naruto's fine. Jiraiya's taking him out of the village in a few hours. The Kyuubi . . ." she shook her head. She'd treated the boy herself; even with the fox, he'd nearly died.

Twenty-four hours later, and he was perfectly healthy. He wanted to know if Iruka-sensei had gotten food poisoning, too. They hadn't told him the truth.

"Did the Kyuubi--" Kakashi began, voice faster for once than his normal drawl.

"Naruto didn't do anything," Tsunade said. It was the question she got most often, even from those who liked Naruto. Iruka was well-known as good with children, safe. Naruto had the fox. It frustrated Tsunade, and yet she understood it. "Naruto didn't do anything," she repeated, quieter. Tsunade folded her hands on her desk and stared at them. "Iruka said his parents kept screaming."

Kakashi grew very still. It settled through the room like storm pressure. Like lightning a hair's breadth from cracking.

"Shizune thinks he had a psychotic break," Tsunade continued. "Given the situation, we gave him the lightest sentence we could. Ibiki tried to get Iruka to defend himself, to clear the charges, but Iruka . . ." she shook her head. Ibiki had been beyond frustrated. "Iruka said he was in his right mind. He was aware of what he was doing. He remembers doing it."

"That doesn’t make sense," Kakashi said softly. "Iruka loves Naruto."

Tsunade shrugged. "He seems to be in his normal mind. After Naruto leaves the village, I'm releasing Iruka under ANBU guard. You."

Kakashi nodded once.

"You are to report any unusual behavior. Anything out of character or even remotely strange. We've called in a substitute teacher for his classes. He's to go nowhere near the school."

"You think he's a danger to everyone?" Kakashi asked, and Tsunade could hear the snide tone in his too-casual voice.

"I think they're children, and it's safest to be careful," Tsunade snapped. "Don’t take your anger out on me, kid."

Kakashi's single visible eye shifted, staring out the window behind her. "Of course not."

Tsunade glared at him for another moment. "Ibiki used jutsu on Iruka," she said at last. "No physical damage. He's probably rattled." Probably a lot more than rattled, but they both knew that. "You have two hours before Jiraiya takes Naruto away. I suggest you go prepare yourself."

Kakashi bowed stiffly and left.

**************