Chapter Text
“I understand you're enthralled, but I do warn you that we’re going to be late...”
“I can’t believe you found it...”
“Of course.”
Iruka couldn’t help but to stare down at a heap of items scattered across their bed. A series of gifts from Kakashi’s most recent mission to the Land of Water, but so much more than that. The items on which his eyes lingered; however, were decorated with his family crest. The Umino Clan symbol he didn’t know existed until now...A simple crest of five waves, all varying shades of blue encapsulated in a white circle.
The beauty and simplicity of it filled Iruka with insurmountable joy, his eyes welling with tears of gratitude and love. Love for his family who had gone before him, and love for Kakashi who was his family now. He felt whole in a way he never had before, one less question needing an answer.
“Why did you wait so long to show me all of this?” he asked, taking the hand Kakashi held out for him.
“I wanted to wait until your birthday, but considering how hard these past few weeks have been for you, I knew you needed something to help lift your spirits,” he explained, kissing Iruka on his forehead while the two embraced. “But here we are, thirty weeks later.”
Iruka bowed his head then, a tear or two escaping his guard. After a tumultuous series of ups and downs, he’d made it thus far. The fear and anguish, the pain and doubt...it had finally taken a backseat to an overwhelming sense of joy and the purest relief. This pregnancy had taken its toll on him in every sense of the word, and he’d fought hard to try and make it this far, but it wouldn’t have been possible without Kakashi. Through it all, the alpha’s presence was a constant even when he didn’t want it to be.
“Come on,” he said, readjusting Iruka’s scarf for him, kissing him softly on the mouth before pulling up his mask. “Let’s go before Tsunade sends someone to hunt us down again.”
Iruka couldn’t help but to chuckle at that. “We don’t want that,” he said, though no true desire to leave filled him.
“No, most definitely not.”
The wonderful cusp of spring was upon them, and Iruka couldn’t help but to look forward to the day Konoha once again flourished with both a wide array of colors and new, blossoming life. Kakashi held a book in one hand and Iruka’s hand in the other. There was no hiding the state of their relationship any longer. From this moment forward, Iruka could no longer hide, period. His everyday life would now be subject to the public eye.
Soon, Kakashi would be Hokage, the figurehead of their village. Iruka made a silent vow to see him through it, to cover any blindspot he might have. Together, they could do it. He knew they could with a little patience and a lot of hard work. He’d have to work on the patience aspect, but he believed he could do it with enough incentive.
Kakashi held the door open for him, and for a fleeting moment, Iruka wondered if he’d fit. The proportions of his body were drastically changing, and it felt near impossible to keep up. His need for control didn’t help matters, but little by little, he became more attuned with every aspect of himself. He carried low and to the front which often upset his balance. Normally, he needed someone around just to make sure he was able to get back up if he happened to sit down.
Unfortunately, when Kakashi was gone, that person was Tenzo. A fact that comforted him little. An uncomfortable truce resided among the three of them. As long as Iruka was pregnant, nothing about the matter was to be discussed. Kakashi and Tenzo abided by this rule, but the tension between the two alphas remained.
So, too, did Tenzo’s inherent longing for him...
“Congratulations, Iruka-sensei,” Shizune said, welcoming Iruka and Kakashi with a resounding smile.
“I’m proud of you,” Tsunade said, appearing much more put together than she had in quite a while. “Both of you.”
“Thank you,” Iruka said, giving Kakashi’s hand a firm squeeze.
“You’re at thirty weeks, just ten more to go,” Tsunade said, checking Iruka’s vitals. “Bedrest is going to be key.”
Iruka couldn't help but to groan at that, knowing full well that she was right. It didn’t mean he had to be happy about it.
“I didn’t think I’d ever make it this far,” he admitted, noticing the way Kakashi tucked his chin down, his chest rising and falling with a deep draw of breath, “and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she gets here safe and sound.”
“Can my visit to Sunagakure not wait until after she’s born?” Kakashi asked, the first and only time Iruka had ever heard him outright question a mission hand-selected for him.
Kakashi was loyal to a fault. To their village, and to Iruka. He imagined that his current predicament must be weighing heavily on his mind. His duty to Konoha and his duty to his mate were in direct conflict with one another. Iruka sometimes wondered if such a balance was truly possible at all.
“Suna is the closest out of all our allies, Kakashi,” Tsunade said, stern but not unkind. Sympathetic to his situation, but resolute to their cause. “You won’t be gone for more than a week.”
“A lot can happen in a week,” Kakashi continued, civil but noticeably tense.
“That’s why Shizune and I will be within reach of him at all times,” she said, making a point to take one of Kakashi’s hands into her own. “If anything were to happen, you’re to be called home immediately.”
“And what if I don’t make it back in time?”
“Kakashi,” Iruka pleaded, drawing the other man’s full attention. “This is the last village you have to attend to. Gaara is already quite fond of you. This will be the easiest one by far.”
Kakashi sighed, otherwise defeated, but also resolved.
“After this, I want to be left alone,” he said, placing a secure hand along the inside of Iruka’s knee. “You’ll leave me alone as promised, correct?”
“I’m not cruel enough to take a father away from their newborn child if it can be helped,” Tsunade said, and Iruka could see the regret that flitted across her face, brief as it was.
How deep did her sorrows run, he wondered. How many impossible decisions had she been forced to make during her reign as Hokage? Thankfully, in this new time of peace, Kakashi wouldn’t be forced to make as many of those decisions. For him, preserving peace was paramount. And in order to secure and maintain it, he needed to be on good terms with all the other kages.
He had to prove his worth on a whole different stage, and he would do it. Iruka had no doubt about that. He understood what being Hokage meant, and he understood what it would mean for them as a whole.
Gratefully, the grace-period Tsunade was alotting them would give them enough time to make a series of new adjustments. Iruka’s leave from the Academy would also be beneficial to them, even if he didn’t necessarily feel that way about it. Little by little, they would be able to navigate this new world that awaited them.
“Thank you,” Kakashi said, never once taking his eyes off him.
“I heard that Kurenai and little Mirai are coming over for a visit,” Shizune said, aiming to change the tone of their visit.
Iruka’s smile grew at the thought of finally spending some one-on-one time with the both of them. “Yes, she’s coming over in a little while and we’re having them stay for dinner,” he said. “Kurenai’s excited that Mirai will soon have someone her own age to play with.”
“A new generation of Sarutobi and Hatake to wreak havoc,” Tsunade said with a cackle and a shake of her head.
“Excuse me, I’ll have you know I was a very well behaved child,” Kakashi argued, trying his best to look offended with limited success. “It’s the Umino in her that we’re going to have to look out for.”
Tsunade and Shizune laughed outright at that, and while Iruka wanted to argue, he knew he didn’t have a leg to stand on. His youthful antics were too well-known, even to this day. What a pity, he thought.
“Yes, but Umino’s eventually mature,” Tsunade said, checking Iruka’s hands and feet, noting how swollen they were with a frown. “The same can’t be said for Hatake’s.”
“My father happened to be a very mature man,” Kakashi countered.
“Your father was a good man with a good heart,” Tsunade said, turning to look at the other alpha with a knowing gaze. “If he were mature, he would have lost what made him so special. What others couldn’t appreciate in him at the time.”
“We can only hope that she’ll be half as good as her grandfather was,” Iruka said, covering Kakashi’s stunned silence with his own thoughts on the matter.
“Having known you and both of your parents, I’m sure she’ll do just fine in life.”
“Did you mean what you said back there?” Kakashi asked, holding the majority of their groceries in both arms much to Iruka’s dismay.
“Did I mean what?” Iruka asked, his long-term and short-term memory almost nonexistent this late into his pregnancy. He blamed the lack of sleep.
“What you said about my father.”
The breeze felt wonderful on such a sunny afternoon, no bitter cold nipping at their extremities. Iruka felt a sudden sense of déjà vu as they passed the main hub of Konoha’’s marketplace. A variety of sights and smells assailing them all at once.
“You know how much Obito and I admired the White Fang,” he said, bumping Kakashi’s shoulder with his own. “I always viewed him as a hero, and Obito felt the same way, well before we even knew he was your father.”
“If it wasn’t for Obito, I don’t know if I’d ever come to terms with it if not for him, and you.”
“It’s still hard to think about the fact that he was alive this whole time, and as angry as I want to be...I can’t. He did the honorable thing in the end, and he’s one of the reasons you’re still here.”
“Did you have a crush on him when we were younger?” Kakashi asked, throwing Iruka off guard as the Hatake estate and its rolling hills of farmland came into view.
“What? Of course not!” Iruka exclaimed, laughing at even the idea of such a thing. “Honestly, Obito was one of the few who didn’t make fun of me for being an absolute crybaby.”
Kakashi fell quiet at that, and Iruka felt terrible for his word choice. True, Kakashi had often provoked him to the point of tears or anger...oftentimes both, but he wasn’t singling him out. He knew Kakashi felt bad about it, though, even now.
Never mind the fact they were grown adults starting a family together...
“I never meant to make you cry, you know?”
“I know that, Kakashi.”
“It’s no wonder Asuma and the Sandaime were less than pleased by my interest in you. Genma, too, for that matter.”
“If they were anything like me, they were probably just confused...”
“Confused? What was there to be confused about?”
“You’re joking, right?” Iruka asked, undoing their wards without a second thought. “You weren’t exactly nice to me growing up, Kakashi. In fact, I remember you telling me that I’d be lucky to make it to chūnin...”
“I know that what I said didn’t always come out right, but I never actively disliked you,” Kakashi argued, putting the groceries in their respective places save for what they planned to make for dinner. “I tried really hard to change your perception of me after Obito died, and then again after Kyūbi attacked the village.”
“Kakashi, you have to understand my position on the matter at the time. You were indifferent to most of those you considered below your skill set, but you were exceptionally grating towards me. You always found it necessary to belittle me, and it didn’t matter who else was around.”
“That’s not true—”
“The only time you went out of your way to help and encourage me during that time was our first and only mission together, and that’s because I presented,” Iruka said, not understanding Kakashi’s being upset by events so long ago. “Which was humiliating in and of itself.”
“I was always there for you.”
“No, you weren’t. Hound was. Obviously, I had no idea you two were one in the same until much later.”
“Did I really treat you that badly?” he asked, settling his full attention on Iruka and nothing else. It made him feel trapped.
Iruka didn’t want to get into this, especially with Kakashi leaving on a mission first thing in the morning. He didn’t understand the point of it. Why wallow in the unpleasantness of their past? Why not focus on their future? What did the past matter when they were here now?
The two were ten weeks away from welcoming their child into the world, for heaven’s sake!
“You simply kept to yourself during that time. You weren’t great socially. That’s all.”
“But I went out of my way to degrade you?”
“It’s obvious that our views on certain things have never aligned, Kakashi.”
“That’s not answering my question—”
“Yes! You did from time-to-time, and why wouldn’t you? A chūnin by six, a jōnin by twelve. You were an exceptional shinobi in every way while I struggled just to be average.”
“You’re not average.”
“Below average then!” Iruka exclaimed with a huff, deciding a nap sounded wonderful right about then. “I know I’m adequate, but I also know I don’t have what it takes to take a life unprompted, Kakashi, and it’s always been that way. I need to lie down for a little bit, my head’s killing me.”
“Iruka, wait!” Kakashi called, taking hold of Iruka’s wrist before he could make his escape from the kitchen. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked, trying to break free of Kakashi’s hold on him.
“For everything,” he muttered, nuzzling Iruka as he scented him. “I never knew what to say to you, and I guess it was easier to dismiss you than to actually try and understand you at first.”
“I’m seven months pregnant with your child, Kakashi. It might have taken us a while, but I think we finally understand each other just fine.”
“Or you just put up with me...”
“I wouldn’t “put up” with you even if someone paid me, Kakashi,” he said, the truth of his words bleeding through his scent. “I love you, and when we’re not arguing it’s because we're too busy laughing.”
“Do we laugh more than we argue?” Kakashi asked, his lips pressing along the side of Iruka’s neck.
“Only when you’re not using arguing as a form of flirting,” Iruka answered, sighing as Kakashi’s teeth skimmed down along the slope of his neck. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
“Are you saying I can’t finish this?”
“I’m saying don’t forget we have company coming over soon,” Iruka said, trying to keep his voice even as Kakashi’s lips and hands began to wander.
“That sounds like a challenge, sensei,” Kakashi mused, guiding Iruka back down the hall towards their bedroom, “and you know how much I love a good challenge.”
By the time Kurenai arrived with little Mirai in tow, the two were freshly bathed and clothed. If Iruka’s hair was still a touch wet, Kurenai blissfully ignored it in lieu of caressing his protruding stomach. Unlike most, however, she asked permission before doing so.
“Your belly’s so cute!” she exclaimed with a laugh, causing Iruka to blush madly.
“If by cute you mean a giant hindrance, then yes.”
“Oh, she kicked!” Kurenai said, watching as Mirai tried to mimic her actions.
“She’s so beautiful,” Iruka couldn’t help but mention, absorbed by the baby who attempted to climb him like a jungle gym.
“She’s a handful,” Kurenai said, a teasing smile on her lips as she took a sip of her tea.
“If she’s anything like Asuma, I can only imagine...”
“Doggy!” the little girl cried, spotting Mochi from across the room.
Kakashi chuckled at that, watching her from a safe distance. Iruka knew that children tended to make the other man nervous, but it didn’t mean Kakashi didn’t like them. He appeared enthralled by how clumsy she was, her fine-motor skills still lacking.
“Sorry, she thinks all animals are some variation of dogs.”
“I wonder if that might have anything to do with a certain Inuzuka,” Iruka said with a tsk, studying Mirai’s face as she squished his cheeks in between her tiny hands. He made it a point to stick his tongue out at her, amused by the way she bounced up and down on his lap in joy, a peel of laughter filling the living room.
“Most definitely.”
“She has his nose,” Iruka murmured out loud, piecing together Asuma’s likeness. She favored her mother most strongly, but fragments of her father still resided there.
“I know, I miss him too,” she said, rubbing Iruka’s shoulder.
“It’s not fair that he can’t be here to raise her. It’s not.”
“No, it’s not fair,” Kakashi agreed, taking a seat beside Iruka, motioning for him to hand Mirai over to him, “but we’ll always be there for her, won’t we?”
“Of course,” he answered, wiping the tears that gathered at the corners of his eyes.
“Shikamaru will ensure she receives her father’s chakra blades,” Kakashi added, taking count of Mirai’s fingers and toes with much fascination on his part. “She’ll always have access to him through our collective memories.”
“I’m sure he’d be thrilled to learn that you’re expecting,” Kurenai mentioned, watching Kakashi and Mirai with rapt attention. “After Mizuki’s attack, he worried more than ever.”
“It hasn’t been easy, but I think a lot of the stress will subside when she’s actually here,” Iruka said, nervously grazing his facial scar with his fingertips.
“I know it’s been much harder on your body than it was on mine,” she said, setting her empty teacup back down on the tray. “I’m ready and willing to help in any way I can after she arrives.”
“Thank you for that, Kurenai. Really, it means a lot. I’m worried about what’s going to happen when Kakashi becomes Hokage and I have to return to the Academy full-time.”
“The Academy has a daycare, correct?”
“It does, thankfully.”
“That way we’ll all be in one place, even if it’s separate parts of the building,” Kakashi said, tickling Mirai’s feet as she shrieked in amusem*nt.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t try to sneak her into the Hokage’s office,” Kurenai said with a laugh.
“I’m not willing to subject my own child to those old crones.”
“Kakashi, don’t talk about the council that way,” Iruka said, chastising the alpha with no real heat behind his words.
“He’s not wrong, Iruka,” Kurenai reasoned.
“I won’t abide anyone who tries to speak ill of you, not even them.”
“Are they still trying to match you with Mitokado’s niece?”
“Her name’s Fumiko, and yes, yes they are,” Iruka said, the name alone enough to sour his mood.
“There’s no need to mention that woman’s name in the sanctity of our home,” Kakashi announced, handing Mirai back over to Kurenai as he made to leave. “I should get started on dinner.”
“Do you need help?” Iruka asked, trying to sit-up on his own.
“Nonsense,” Kakashi muttered, pressing a cloth-covered kiss on Iruka’s forehead before disappearing into the kitchen.
“It makes me happy to see you two so happy,” Kurenai said, handing Mirai a stuffed animal in the shape of a dog. It kind of looked like Pakkun. “I know Asuma had a hard time accepting Kakashi as a potential mate for you, but I could see how much he cared about you even then.”
“That makes one of us, then.”
“It’s true. Kakashi went out of his way to avoid interacting with others, but when it came to you, he would do whatever it took to get your attention.”
“He was awful to me,” Iruka said with a wrinkle of his nose.
“I said he wanted your attention, Iruka. I never said he was good at it.”
The two laughed readily at that, but Iruka could sense there was something weighing on her mind. He didn’t know how to broach the subject, but he knew he needed to try. Before he could; however, Kurenai stood, extending her hand to him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern flaring inside him.
“I need to talk to you about something, but I can’t bring myself to do it here,” she said, propping Mirai up on her hip. “Care to join me outside for a bit, Iruka?”
“Of course, just let me tell Kakashi we’ll be out in the garden.”
“I don’t know how to tell you this...I don’t even know where to start,” Kurenai said, readjusting Mirai’s blanket so that she was warm enough.
The two sat on the veranda overlooking the koi pond Kakashi had dedicated an entire week to rebuilding. Slowly but surely, the Hatake Compound was being restored to its former glory.
“Start wherever you're most comfortable,” he said, holding a cup of tea in between his hands, enjoying its warmth.
“I know that Tenzo’s your fated pair, but there’s something you need to know,” she finally said, her anguish and hesitance apparent in her scent, taking candy apples and threatening to turn them sour.
“How do you know that?” Iruka asked, his heart lodged in his throat.
“Just listen to me, okay? I can only say this once,” Kurenai said, taking a deep draw of breath.
“Okay...”
“Asuma, Tenzo and I have a long history together,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Asuma and I were fated, but it took us a long time to sort out our issues.”
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me here...”
“Tenzo loved Asuma, and Asuma loved him,” Kurenai stated outright, meeting Iruka’s startled gaze with her own resolute one. “I guess you could say we were in an open relationship, and it worked out great for a time...”
“What changed?” Iruka asked, his mind desperately trying to process the information being handed to him.
“I got pregnant with Mirai, and Tenzo didn’t feel like he had a place in that,” she admitted, wiping a stray tear that had spilled over her flushed cheek. “I thought he would understand that it included all three of us, but he didn’t.”
“What did Asuma do?”
“He tried to convince Tenzo to come back with us, but he didn’t, and then Asuma died not too long after that.”
The last conversation Iruka had with Yamato before Kakashi took off to Kirigakure came ricocheting back into his mind, and it made much more sense now. The fact that Yamato felt abandoned resulted from Asuma’s relationship with Kurenai. The misery and heartache he felt on Yamato’s behalf struck a chord deep within him.
“They never made up, and the harder I try to mend our relationship, the more he pulls away from me. If I can even reach him at all...”
“Do you love him?”
“Of course I do,” Kurenai said without hesitation. “I loved them both.”
“Why do you think he’s pulling away from you?”
“Guilt,” she said, running her fingers through Mirai’s dark hair as she slept peacefully in her mother’s arms, having tired herself out. “He never made things right with Asuma, and Mirai is a constant reminder that he’ll never get the chance to do so in this lifetime, but I want him to be a part of our lives, I really do.”
“I would have never guessed,” Iruka said, peering down into his cup as though it held all the answers in the world. “Did Kakashi know about this?”
“Yes, all three of them were in Anbu together, though you didn’t hear that from me...”
“Yamato knows that I plan to stay with Kakashi, he does. After the baby’s born, and I’m fully recovered, our plan is to become official mates. The only reason we’ve put it off is because of the pregnancy. I know Yamato’s my fated pair, but I don’t love him in that way...”
“I know you don’t, Iruka, and I don’t think he does either, but it’s easier to turn his attention to someone he’s supposedly destined for than risk the uncertainty that comes with me...”
“When’s the last time you two have talked?”
Kurenai let out a bitter sounding chuckle at that. “We don’t talk, Iruka,” she said, rocking Mirai back and forth in her arms. “He buys food and clothing and toys for Mirai, and then he flees before I can even sense his presence.”
“How do you know it’s him?”
“His scent,” she mused, her eyes slipping shut as the smell of candied apples filled the air around them, heavy and soft all at the same time. “I always knew his scent was stronger than the average betas. Asuma loved it, too.”
“I’m sure it complimented the smoky undertones of Asuma’s scent well.”
“It did.”
“I’m not really sure what else to say, Kurenai...”
“You don’t have to say anything, Iruka. I just wanted you to understand Tenzo a little better, is all. Maybe one day he’ll understand that my love for him didn’t die just because Asuma did.”
The door slid open behind them as Kakashi popped his head out. “Supper's ready,” he announced with a wave of his hand before disappearing once more.
Kakashi and Iruka sent Kurenai home with enough leftovers to last a week. Iruka wouldn’t be able to eat it all by himself anyway. He proposed that he should be the one to wash the dishes, but Kakashi refused.
In the end, Kakashi washed them while Iruka dried them.
“Have you finished packing yet?” he asked, taking a seat on their bed as Kakashi took inventory of his weapons.
“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” Kakashi murmured, joining Iruka as he began his nightly routine of massaging Iruka’s hands and feet.
“Did you remember to pack sunscreen?” Iruka asked, Kakashi’s hands working their magic on his swollen feet and ankles.
“I don’t need sunscreen,” Kakashi argued, his cheeks tinged pink much to Iruka’s delight.
“You’re too pale to stand under Suna’s sun without sunscreen,” he countered, extending his leg further out as Kakashi rubbed up along his calf. “You do remember what happened to you the last time, correct? If not for Sakura-chan, you would have gotten sun poisoning.”
“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing she’ll be coming along on this mission too.”
“Don’t you dare make that poor girl waste her chakra on you!”
Kakashi sighed at that, defeated as he took hold of one of Iruka’s hands, massaging each finger individually with much care and devotion. “Fine, fine,” he muttered. “I’ll make sure to pack sunscreen, never mind the fact I’m ninety percent covered as is.”
“You’re only about fifty percent covered right now,” Iruka said, his lips curving into a sly smile.
“Hmm, that’s only because you’re special,” Kakashi hummed, securing Iruka’s lips for himself.
“Am I special enough that you’ll bring me back some of that desert tea they have there?” he asked, tilting his head to one side as Kakashi chased ever elusive lips.
“I’ll bring you back whatever you want as long as you keep kissing me, sensei,” Kakashi replied, casting everything that wasn’t Iruka aside for the moment.
“You’re lucky that I love you as much as I do,” Iruka teased, enjoying the way Kakashi’s hands explored every curve and crevice of his body.
“You’ll call me home if anything happens, right?” he asked, suddenly quite serious.
“Of course, Kakashi,” he answered, his thumb trailing down along Kakashi’s most prominent scar. “This is the last mission you’ll have to go on before she’s born. I’ll be just fine until you get back.”
Kakashi kissed him again, threading his fingers through the dark tresses of Iruka’s hair. “Promise me, Iruka,” he urged, meeting Iruka’s gaze.
“I promise.”
“Thank you.”
When all was said and done, neither of them got much rest that night. Iruka could tell that Kakashi was awake behind him, his hand caressing his rounded belly almost absentmindedly. He knew that Kakashi couldn't help but to worry, but it was ultimately out of their hands in the end.
Kakashi would leave, and then he would return home to him like he always did.
“Have you thought of a name for her?” Kakashi asked, his voice so faint that it was almost drowned out by the wind chimes that danced outside well into the night.
“It hasn’t revealed itself to me yet, but hopefully by the time you’re home I’ll have one ready for her.”
Kakashi chuckled at that, the vibration of it lulling Iruka to sleep. Once again, he found himself running through the wet red clay of blossoming orange groves. A soft, cool rain drizzled overhead, dampening some of the heat as he chased footprints left behind by tiny feet. He could hear Kakashi’s voice calling after them, but they were far too busy having fun. A head full of silver curls turned to look back at him, and for the first time, Iruka had a name to put with such an angelic face.
“Kojika!”
