Title: Former Lives
Author: JBMcDragon
Status: Complete, 9 parts
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. When Iruka tries to poison Naruto, he begins to think something isn't right, period.

Prologue and chapter 1
Chapter 2

Short chapter. Sorry. :P
JBMcDragon




Chapter Three
Now

Iruka followed Kakashi, quiet and ghostlike, out of the cell. He shivered all the way home. The Copy Ninja didn't speak to him again; just led the way silently. Iruka didn't blame him.

His head was pounding.

He'd tried to kill Naruto.

Nothing made sense. The memories were fading, like a vivid dream from several days before.

His head ached.

He watched the lithe, graceful body in front of him. "You're limping," he said once.

Kakashi stopped limping, but didn't offer an explanation.

They went to Iruka's apartment. Iruka cleaned up the ramen bowls and broken glass almost methodically. Kakashi didn't take his mask off. Somehow, it hurt.

"Get your things," Kakashi murmured when Iruka didn't stop cleaning. "We'll go to my place."

Iruka didn't argue. He might have argued with his boyfriend and lover, Kakashi. He wouldn't argue with the Copy Ninja, and that was doubtlessly who this was.

He gathered clothes and bathroom items, stuffed them into his pack, and they left again. He didn’t bother locking the apartment behind him.

Kakashi took the box of porn. It might have made Iruka snort, but his head was pounding. He was far too miserable.

He was still shivering by the time they reached Kakashi's home. Kakashi's single visible eye watched him closely, almost intently, while they removed their shoes. Iruka stood there while Kakashi put the box by the futon, then pulled a neatly folded blanket from a perfectly organized cupboard and wrapped it around Iruka's shoulders.

Iruka didn't protest. He stared at Kakashi's bare feet, at the one that was wrapped sturdily. "You hurt yourself," he murmured.

Kakashi didn't answer. "Sit," the Jounin said, pushing Iruka carefully toward the futon. There was no couch; the apartment was too small.

Iruka sat and stared at his own feet. Kakashi crouched in front of him. "What happened?"

It was like a nightmare. Iruka shivered. "I don't know." Darkness edged around the corners of his sight. The headache grew worse. He shivered. "I didn't mean to. I mean--I suppose I did. I can't--I don't--" He closed his eyes. "I don't know what came over me. They kept screaming and there he was and . . . it was like watching a play. I just--" he stopped. Eyes still closed, Iruka braced his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his hands. He fought with tears, and lost. "Kakashi, I don't know what happened. I didn't mean to hurt him. I didn't mean to."

He heard Kakashi move. Up and away, the rustle of cloth. He didn’t blame the man. He wouldn't have wanted to be around himself, either.

Then the Jounin returned, tugging at one of Iruka's wrists and pressing something into his hand. Iruka looked up, blinking through tears.

A water glass.

"Drink," Kakashi said quietly. "It'll make you sleep."

Iruka hesitated. The jutsu Ibiki had used shuddered through him, forcing bile up his throat. He swallowed convulsively. "I don't think--if I dream--" They wouldn't be good. He deserved no less.

He almost couldn't remember what he'd done. He knew it, of course. He couldn't quite *remember* it, though.

"It'll keep you from dreaming," Kakashi said quietly. "Drink."

Iruka hesitated for another moment. Kakashi tugged the blanket up higher over his shoulders, not meeting his gaze. The movement was still oddly comforting. Iruka drank. It was bitter and thick.

"You're pale," Kakashi said, taking the glass.

Iruka stared at his hands and wondered how long the drug would take. "I have a headache," he admitted.

Kakashi pulled off his hitai-ate and set it aside. The Copy Ninja mask fell away, leaving only Kakashi in black cloth. "The drug will take that away, too," he said quietly.

Iruka felt himself leaning, and realized he was falling. Kakashi caught him as he tilted farther.

"Sleep," Kakashi said quietly.

The fuzziness at the edges of Iruka's vision deepened. The world dropped away.

It was still cold.

**
Six Weeks Earlier

"Mizuki, I brought Shougi and--"

"Fuck off, Iruka," the man snarled, smashing at the prison bars. "Don't you get it, you fucking little hypocrite? We're not friends! We were never friends! I fucking hate you and this fucking village!"

Iruka stared carefully at the Shougi board. Slowly, he set it out, putting the pieces in their spots. "I'm sorry you feel that way," he said quietly. "But--"

Mizuki reached through the bars and slapped the wood. Bits went flying. "I swear to everything you hold dear, I'm going to kill you if I ever get out of here," Mizuki hissed.

Iruka took a deep breath. "I've been seeing someone."

"You have sex with her yet? 'Course not--or you wouldn't be seeing her anymore."

Iruka winced, but tried to hide it. "Yes, we have. He said I was a fool for coming to visit you." Iruka looked up. Mizuki didn't look like himself. He never looked like himself, anymore. "Is it making things worse? Should I stop?"

Mizuki pressed himself close to the bars, eyes narrowed. "Stop. And when I get out of here, I'm still going to kill you."

**
Now

Kakashi sat on the floor against the wall, staring at the open pages of Icha Icha Paradise, not really seeing the words.

Ibiki had told him what jutsu they'd used on Iruka. Kakashi couldn't decide if he should just get more of the drug for the next few weeks to let the Chuunin sleep dreamlessly, or if the dreams were a part of the sentence.

He couldn't believe Iruka had tried to kill Naruto. Not even after hearing it from Iruka himself.

He'd get the drug.

"Are you unhappy with your sex life?"

Kakashi startled at the words in the silent room, though he was too good a ninja to let it show. He looked up from his book. Impossibly, Iruka was awake. Kakashi stared for a moment with both eyes, his hitai-ate on the nightstand.

Iruka looked at him expectantly, leaning on one elbow, face sleep-pink. Kakashi had to think back to the question.

Iruka never asked about sex. "Ah," he said, stalling for time. He knew Iruka's temper, and he certainly wasn't going to answer honestly. "That's rather abrupt. What brought this on?"

Iruka pushed aside the blanket and sat up. His skin was pale, his eyes dark pools. His movements were steady. Kakashi frowned slightly. Could the drug go bad? Get less potent? He didn't think so.

"You're always suggesting things," Iruka murmured, "and the only answer you get is 'no no no.' Must get tiring."

Kakashi watched the Chuunin closely. The Sharingan was giving him double images of Iruka's chakra system; one sitting there, and one too faint to really make out. It was a little unsettling.

Maybe he was more tired than he'd thought.

"I'm bored with my sex life," Iruka said, head tilting. He smiled a very tiny, humorless smile. "Ask me now."

Kakashi stared blankly. This wasn't the same man who'd been so heartbroken earlier. This one was . . . predatory.

Iruka stood, pacing across the room, all his usual exuberance gone. "Ask."

Kakashi didn't move. Iruka walked right up to him, straddled his lap, and sat slowly. His hands linked behind Kakashi's neck. Iruka leaned in, so close Kakashi could feel chakra prickling over his skin. It felt wrong. The drug, of course. "Ask," the Chuunin purred.

Kakashi reached up and took the man's wrists. They were cold in his hands. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said softly. Shock? Had to be. Shock, drug, jutsu . . . He pulled the man's hands away, then reached up to feel Iruka's tanned neck.

Freezing. Alarm shot through him.

"Iruka--"

Iruka tugged at his hands, but they were held firmly in one of Kakashi's. He stopped and smiled slowly. "You could tie me up. I'd say yes to that."

Kakashi went very still. The hair on the nape of his neck stood on end. Iruka moved, shifting against him slowly, almost languidly. Half-lidded eyes watched him with more intent than Iruka ever showed. Something was frighteningly wrong. Kakashi spoke, keeping his tone casual, trying not to let his anxiety show. It would only upset Iruka, and in his present state Kakashi wasn't sure what might happen. "What brought this on?"

Had he been like this when he'd poisoned Naruto? It made more sense. Psychotic break, Shizune had said. Maybe it wasn't over.

Iruka shrugged. Slinky, like a cat. Something large and powerful that should be ungainly, but somehow wasn't.

Only Iruka wasn't large. He wasn't powerful. He never looked ungainly. He just looked like himself.

Iruka rubbed against him again. "C'mon, Kakashi. I could get off from you hitting me. There must be a leather belt around here somewhere . . ."

Kakashi's eyebrows rose. "Not my thing."

"Put welts on my skin," Iruka purred. He tugged at his hands again. Kakashi didn't let go. "Put scars on my skin. It needs some," Iruka whispered. Teeth clicked shut abruptly; Kakashi pull back fast enough to keep his nose from getting bitten.

Iruka chuckled. "Come on. It could be fun."

"I don't think so," he said.

"Wouldn't you like to see me writhe?" Iruka murmured. He arched back, giving little mock-gasps. "Yeah, there--" He glanced at Kakashi and smiled.

"I can think of other ways to make that happen," Kakashi said calmly, burying his distress.

Iruka's head fell back, exposing his neck. He squirmed, slow and methodical, an obvious seduction. "I would like you to beat me. I could make you come from that."

"Not likely," Kakashi said. His voice was bland; distaste didn't leak through. He'd seen someone beaten and raped once. He didn't care to play at anything remotely like that.

Iruka pouted. “But I’m not happy with my sex life. I’m sure you’re not happy with yours.”

"Why don't I get you some tea?" Kakashi said, pushing gently until Iruka slid back and stood. "You're cold."

'Cold' wasn't right. Frozen was closer. He'd never felt a living body so chilled.

Iruka's eyes were on him as he headed into the kitchen. He felt them while he got out the teapot and filled it with leaves and water.

Iruka should still be sleeping. The drug wouldn't wear off for a while yet. Calmly, Kakashi selected leaves from unmarked tins and dropped them into the water.

"I almost raped him, you know," Iruka said, leaning through the tiny window in the wall that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment.

Kakashi went still. He glanced at the dark haired Chuunin, saw nearly black eyes watching him steadily, a small smile playing over his lips. "Iruka?" Kakashi asked slowly, hoping he hadn't heard right.

"Mizuki." Iruka paused, then smiled. "I almost raped him."

Kakashi turned the fire on. "I see. I suppose he deserved it." He waited for steam to come from the spout and tried not to think. Iruka didn't rape people. Not even people like Mizuki.

"Fucking tease," Iruka muttered. "I didn't rape him, though. He never realized how close he came." He grinned, a smile full of teeth. "I told him he was a terrible lay. I never knew how much he took that to heart." Iruka started to laugh. "He's carried that around for-fucking-ever!"

The kettle began to whistle, shrill, building slowly louder. Kakashi grabbed it off the stove and poured it into two cups. "Drink this," he said, offering one through the window. "It'll warm you up."

Iruka was still laughing. Too high, too excited. Not like himself.

Kakashi repeated that, tamping down on his alarm. There was something wrong. He just had to find out what. Don't think of it as Iruka; think of it as a mission.

Iruka took the cup and folded, vanishing to the floor. Kakashi listened to giggling. He heard Iruka blow on the tea, then a quiet sip. There were several more.

The teacup thumped to the carpet. The body followed it.

Kakashi set his down, untouched, on the counter and casually walked around into the main room.

Iruka lay curled on his side in a puddle of wet rug. Holding tight to his calm, Kakashi lifted the man and put him back on his bed. Then he tied the Chuunin in place.

Kakashi sat back, closed his normal eye, and peered at Iruka out of the Sharingan.

The image was stronger. Two of them, two sets of chakra patterns; both now sleeping.

Kakashi glanced at the teacup, at the spreading stain, and with great willpower left it. He could clean it up later.

He grabbed his vest and hitae-ate and raced out of his apartment.

**
Years earlier

“I don’t get it,” Iruka whispered loudly.

His mother hushed him, and continued to light candles. “We honor the dead because it’s the right thing to do,” she said softly. “So they can be happy, and go on to the next life. We don’t want them lingering here.”

Iruka thought about that for a long time. “What if they were bad?” he whispered.

His mother’s movements hesitated. “Well, I’m not sure. Some say they wander the world, making trouble. Others say they’re reincarnated to try again.”

Iruka thought about that for a long time. “If I met a spirit, I’d beat them up.”

His mother smiled and ruffled his hair. “If they had bodies, I’m sure you could. But if you *really* meet a spirit, you should just go away. That’s important. All right?”

Iruka nodded. But he really knew he could still beat one up.

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