Inspired by/Based off: Rockapella's song of the same name.
Timeline: Shortly after the news in Chapter 489 Though no obvious spoilers.
Summery: He hated it But it had to be done. No matter how much it hurt the two of them. After his visit Kakashi had no idea who his actions hurt more.Edited 9-2-11:
Many thanks to my wonderful new beta denilmo
Iruka's home was silent; the only sound, if one listened carefully, was that of his pen scratching against the paper of the worksheets laid out over his desk. A sudden soft knock on the door pulled him from his work; he checked over one more answer before getting up to answer, following the second knock. He opened the door and his expression instantly turned sour, his arms crossing defensively over his chest, "Good evening, Kakashi-san."
Hearing that voice call him like that made Kakashi's heart sink, the gravity suddenly feeling stronger and pulling his whole form down. The sight he walked into wasn't going to make this any easier. The chunin his black undershirt that outlined every well trained muscle and a pair of loose pants that showed his obvious fondness of them by the wear on them. His hair was down, just as he adored it. He remembered when Iruka would do his work on the living room floor leaning against the couch. Kakashi would sit behind him on the couch with his legs on either side of him, tenderly running his fingers though that beautiful curtain of brown as he read. He could remember doing that barely two months ago.
He realized he had been silent for too long when Iruka greeted him. There was a reason he had come here. He had heard Iruka wasn't his usual self lately; he did his duty as a teacher and what he had to in the mission room, but beyond that he was nowhere to be seen. Even if someone had seen him out on the street when he went shopping he still didn't seem to be all there. Kakashi knew he was the reason for it and felt he should be the one to check on him. He had even gone to some lengths to stop Anko from being the one here. "Iruka... I just wanted to see how you were doing..." He said, almost timid.
There was a hint of a sickened chuckle when Iruka shook his head. "You don't have a clue of how you've blown my life apart. You've just got no idea..."
Three quarters of their lives they had known each other and nearly half of it they spent together. Their lives had become one long ago; to have it suddenly pulled apart like that couldn't be done cleanly. But Kakashi was quite aware; both had their loved ones stolen in their early lives. Both, in their own way, refused to let the same thing happen to them again, only then to find each other, to slowly allow one another close. They had promised to deny even death from pulling them apart and as sincere they had been, as sure that they would hold true to it, it was still a foolish act. Such a forever was apparently short lived.
"I know how you must be fee-"
"NO! I don't wanna hear it, Kakashi!" Iruka barked, cutting him off, his vision blurring with the threat of tears.
The silver haired man stood silent, the pain of watching the man he once held as a lover looking at him with fury and his own pain that made him want to throttle him yet throw himself against him and believe this all to be a dream.
"Don't tell me that you cry in your sleep each night; don't say you spend each hour wondering 'what wasn't right.' Do you stare into the mirror thinking what is it you should change?" Unable to hold them at bay, the tears began in a small trickle that went for the moment ignored. "Thinking it all through, clawing your way through what had been to find out where things went wrong."
He was anything but proud; he was sickened with himself, physically ill that this was what happened to him. Kakashi actually winced at his words. No, that's not what he did; it had been trained out of him, and he was ashamed. Rather he beat himself up over it.
Obviously the wound was still painfully fresh and he had come too soon. But he couldn't help it. He did still, in fact, love him. Kakashi took a step forward. "Iru, please listen to me. I feel absolutely...." He couldn't even fathom a word to describe it. He felt it pained him to wake up each morning, reaching over to find there was no Iruka and he wasn't coming back. He knew very well how it felt.
The teacher scoffed, pushing down the slight warmth of hearing the fond nickname brought. "I guess you thought that this little visit could wipe away the guilt you're feeling. I have to say you are asking for too much, too soon. Whatever you do, please don't ask me to say everything's okay," he paused biting his lip, closing his eyes and looking away. "‘Cause honestly, it's not."
Iruka looked up with the smallest hint of a smile, as his chest tightened and burned while the hand clenched against it in a knuckle whitening fist. Kakashi could see it and his own hands tightened with the restraint not to wrap his arms around his chunin, well not his anymore, to kiss away the tears and whisper away the pain.
"Ask me if I still love you. Surely I do and I can tell you that won't change. I couldn't suddenly stop after so long."
Neither could I, Kakashi mentally told him.
How? Kakashi asked the same question he asked himself for months before among others: How could he do this? How was he able to do it? How would he cope?
He had his reasons and he told himself that it had to be done before it was too late. Death would over power and he knew that. Yet, he still found himself believing that they could win, though not alone.
"Just tell me... where do I go from here?" Kakashi quietly pleaded. He had dealt with death many a time in his life and by now he had grown used to it, but this pain of the living he would have to say is much, much worse. To stand back and watch, to know he was within reach, that with time and words he would have them back, to have all this before him, but still have them farther than ever was not something he was used to. None of his training could prepare him for something that wasn't even of the touchable world to cause the pain capable of a massive solid weapon.
Iruka gently shook his head, he was now crying without restraint. Given up (unless for style, I’d say either add a semicolon and say ‘he had given up’ or just put He before ‘given up’ to make it complete). "I don't know..." he answered solemnly, barely above a whisper.
A shaky hand reached for the door handle. They both knew the conversation was over. "G-Good night," he stated, and was answered by the slightest nod, that lone darkened eye covered by what was normally vibrant and lively spiked silver.
The door was closed before him and with a burst of smoke Kakashi was just beyond the area, his legs swiftly carrying him out to a training clearing. With nothing less than a roar, a gloved fist slammed into the ground; the force sent a rippling wave as it caved beneath him. He didn't even notice the tears till he felt a spreading wetness on his mask.
On the other side of that door was a crumbled mass of black and brown, a suppressed sob causing his body to quake. Had he seen his last words? Did he read his lips of what he hoped would be his remembrance?
"I'll miss you."