he can barely feel his body. iruka knows, even if it is distant, that everything must hurt, that he’s in just awful shape, but he can’t quite feel it. the pain medication has left him in a haze, with only a dull ache in his arms and chest and back keeping him from resting peacefully. he feels miles away from his body and, unfortunately, from the man standing watch in the corner of his hospital room. as if they continue to be separated by a force stronger than iruka can bear.

oh, you dramatic idiot.

lu ten’s declaration pulls a smile from his lips, part hiding a laugh for such a ridiculously lovesick sentiment, part charmed by it nonetheless. in these happy years together, iruka is surprised to learn more about the prince with each passing day. safety has finally given them the luxury of honesty, allowed them to share freely with one another what they’ve wanted to for nearly a decade. and he’s surprised ( and delighted! ) to witness what a romantic lu ten can be, especially considering he is the object of the man’s affection.

after such a rigid upbringing, the details of which iruka can only begin to piece together from his memories of highly controlled visits to the palace, he’s astounded that love can still take root. that lu ten has it in him at all. but iruka supposes the same can be said for him - after swallowing those dangerous feelings for years, how is it that he’s found his way to this? how can he even bare to allow warmth to stir in his chest, to speaks his desires and affections aloud? he isn’t sure, but lu ten’s body pressed close, he’s overjoyed they’ve both survived with their hearts intact.

his anxiety has been steadily building with each passing incident. orochimaru’s attack, the hokage’s death, the infiltration by a pair of rogue nin ( he isn’t supposed to know the details of the last, but it’s hard to contain secrets in the leaf once they get out. and, try as the council may, they can’t cover it up this hastily, especially without a leader to keep the village in line ). something is surely off, the way naruto is swiftly swept up and away on a classified mission with jiraiya. he isn’t privy to the information that lu ten is, but iruka has to wonder if it isn’t so much classified as it is a distraction. from what, he isn’t sure, but it leaves him uneasy.

when lu ten greets him at the end of their respective days ( and theirs are long, gruelling work days while the village scrambles to rebuild, to find a suitable replacement for the hokage. he finds solace in the fact that lu ten’s name hasn’t yet been uttered. ), iruka’s uneasiness only grows. he knows the man too well for him to hide concern behind a smile or kind, sympathetic eyes. he can tell before he sits iruka down and takes his hands, before he begins to speak and his words come out clipped and hesitant, that something is truly and deeply wrong. iruka feels ill while he listens, while he waits for the inevitable bad news. and if his hands weren’t being held by lu ten, iruka would be raking nails across their backs, picking at recently agitated wounds.

“they’re tracking jinchuriki.”

oh. oh, no. his mind reels, trying to process what he’s just been told. as he does, dread settles, cold and heavy in his chest. jinchuriki, they’re after - they’re looking for - “oh my god. naruto.” he can’t breathe, suddenly iruka can’t fucking breathe, and his heart is in his throat. it beats so hard it hurts. hands grip lu ten’s wrist tighter, desperate, desperate, desperate to feel something solid. “naruto. where’s - where is -“ words get stuck in his throat, tears pushing their way out, instead.

this is why they sent naruto away. but, how can iruka protect him if he doesn’t know where the boy is? how can he stop the akatsuki from - oh god, oh god, no.

iruka collapses hard into lu ten, crashes against him for dearly needed support. whether the man is ready to hold him or not, it doesn’t matter. iruka can’t hold himself upright, the waves of emotions strong and volatile as they run through him. he’s breathing shallow and quick, body shaking, violent. lu ten speaks to him and his voice is steady, something firm to hold onto. iruka strains to hear it, to focus on the sound above his own racing heart. he nods to acknowledge he’s heard it. you’re okay, we’re okay, we’re-

mizuki kisses him like he’s marking his territory. 

he’s heard the rumours, the murmurs that it was possible, after all, to raise the dead. dangerous, too dangerous for iruka to ever dream of seeking it out, forbidden power no one should ever be able to wield. corrupt, vile, and always requiring a sacrifice. a great human cost. and it’s found it’s way to him without any searching at all. 

“stop. stop it.” iruka is trembling, hands desperately reaching out to steady himself on the table. he can’t catch his breath, too quick, too shallow, as his emotions take control of him yet again. to be offered such a choice is beyond his wildest dreams. and if he closes his eyes, he can imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like. to see them, to hold them, to know if he’s done them proud, after all this time. 

he’s still so much that little boy who’s just lost everything. pretending he’s proud they died heroes. chest aches, cheeks wet ( he can’t tell if that’s merely a memory, or if he’s crying now, too ). he isn’t proud; he doesn’t care that they died to save the village. iruka is frightened and sad and all alone. 

god, he’d do anything to bring them back. anything, anything. even- “no. stop talking.”  

no matter how hard he grips the edge of the table, his hands, his arms, everything shakes. violent and tumultuous. it’s dangerous to think like that, he knows it is. this is exactly how ninjas get in over their heads, how they end up messing with things they should just leave be. but the temptation is still there, and iruka feels sick with guilt. the cost of such a fantasy is insurmountable. he can’t ever do this to lu ten, someone he’s sworn to protect. with his heart, his body, his very life. 

“i won’t let you hurt him.” it’s not a choice, it’s not an answer. iruka struggles to put the words together, voice nagging at the back of his mind. this is what you’ve always wanted. lu ten would want this too. for you. it’s his family’s fault they’re gone. they died protecting his stupid village. no. no. this isn’t right. he loves you. you love him. stop. stop. 

footsteps are quick and deadly quiet as iruka rounds the corner towards lu ten’s cell. for someone out of practice, he’s done well slipping past the rogue nin that called this base their home, and makes quick work of the one guarding the holding cells. he keeps his eyes on the hallway ahead of him, tries not to think about the body he’s left behind. there’s something more important than guilt on his mind.

he’s a strategist more than fighter; a rescue mission is just iruka’s forte, though this particular mission wasn’t assigned to him. he can still hear lady tsunade outright forbidding him from going after lu ten when the hostage’s note arrived. but he’s here now. he’ll ask her forgiveness later, when he has lu ten back, safe and alive and well. iruka knows she can’t argue with a job well done.

he stops before the only occupied cell. in the dark, iruka can make out a figure slumped against the wall, but not much else. there is no movement, even with all the noise his footfall has surely made as controlled movements became more desperate. even with his ragged breathing. iruka’s heart slams against his chest, so fast he can feel it in his throat, choking him, making his voice come out strangled and thin. “lu ten?”

no response, and iruka feels a surge of panic. hands are unsteady as iruka unlocks the door, takes a knee at his lover’s side. and there’s a moment when he thinks the man is dead, that he’s already too late. unresponsive, unmoving ( even as iruka places a trembling hand against his cheek, there is nothing ). iruka can’t help but let his eyes linger on the bruising on his face, the dry blood crested on the side of his head, the agitated wounds on his arms that desperately need to be tended to. he tamps down the anger as it rises in the back of his throat, pushes away thoughts of finding whoever’s hand is responsible for this and breaking it. it’s unhelpful. he needs to focus. but - no, he’s breathing, iruka can see it now. the gentle rise and fall of lu ten’s shoulders. oh, thank god, he’s breathing.

iruka forces himself to keep focus. he can feel lu ten’s familiar chakra ( he’s been desperate for it, missing from the bed next to him for more than a week ), but it’s muted and restrained. like someone’s turned down the temperature. he looks for other signs to confirm his suspicion, finds lu ten’s eyes are glassy and faraway, that he looks right through iruka in front of him. it’s genjutsu. it makes sense: he can’t imagine lu ten is an easy prisoner. his captors must’ve grown tired of his constant fighting, his burning up of their bindings. best to place him in a dream to keep him docile. the way lu ten doesn’t stir, even when touched, doesn’t seem to fight to the surface, iruka has to assume its a nice one. it brings him relief to know that, at least in this moment, lu ten isn’t suffering.

bringing lu ten back to reality surely won’t be as sweet as the tricks his mind is playing. iruka places on hand on his shoulder to steady him, his other forming the sign to release the genjutsu. with the amount of time he’s been held here, it’s likely to take a little while for lu ten’s awareness to fully return, but iruka intends to ease him into it with soft, coaxing words. with a surge of chakra, the genjutsu is dispelled and, slowly, slowly, lu ten’s gaze focuses on iruka before him.

iruka is measured. he watches the battle from his perch in the upper branches of a tree. crouched, defensive, the weapon strapped to his back is a mere formality ( he shouldn’t need it, not with the team he’d been assigned ). eyes flick back and forth between the figures below him, search tirelessly for any sign of distress; a falter in their step, a yelp, a sudden flash of red. so far, he’s found nothing, so each time his gaze crosses lu ten, he lets it linger. lets himself admire the way his lover’s body moves when he fights, if only for stolen a moment. skillful, so carefully controlled, each strike alight with the potential for lethality. iruka should shift his gaze, should make sure the others aren’t in immediate danger, but he’s selfish. this is a rare delight; lu ten moves like poetry in motion, something strange and beautiful, and -

a blade jammed between two of lu ten’s ribs. no. if he were a sensory-type, iruka would have been quicker, would have smelled the blood on impact, but with all his years of training, his eyes are very nearly that fast. and his temper rising, hot and uncontrollable in the back of his throat like bile, feels instantaneous. don’t fucking touch him. a sword is unsheathed and drawn before he even hits the ground. he can’t remember jumping off from the tree, but he lands in front of lu ten with a definitive thud. i’m going to kill you for this, I swear.

the blade feels light in his hands, like it’s barely there, an extension of his form in all it’s anger and agony. iruka is an uzumaki with a temper like any other, a fury as though the ninetails itself lives within his chest. he knows this sensation well, and he doesn’t fight it, not like he’s so inclined to do when it rears its ugly head. not when you’ve hurt something precious to me. his body acts on it’s own and he lets it, gives himself over to his emotions. iruka lunges, teeth barred and breathing ragged, and runs his enemy through without hesitation. he retracts his blade to strike again. he can only see red. and again. rage or blood? he can’t tell; he doesn’t care. and again. he can feel his insides burning alive. and again.

iruka is speaking ( screaming? ). he doesn’t mean for the words to tear out of him, but he can’t keep them down once they begin. cussing out the crumbled nin at his feet. “you bastard. don’t you dare touch him. don’t you fucking dare. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you.” he abandons his weapon, lets it clatter to the ground nearby, and he launches himself atop his enemy, laying into them with fists and nails and claws. they’ve stopped moving beneath him, but iruka can’t.