Backslide-Blackkat

Chapter 5

It's been a very long time since Kurama was last able to enjoy a rainstorm without worrying about Sasuke's illness getting worse in the damp, or finding shelter, or keeping vital supplies dry. He smiles as the drops fall, glorying in the simplicity of peace and the ease of a lazy day as he and Kakashi make their way through the village. People smile and wave, accustomed to his face after so many hours spent wandering, and Kurama waves back, almost gleeful that he can.

Sasuke's loss is still an ache, a needle-thin blade lodged deep in his heart, and Kurama is familiar enough with grief to know that it will always be there. He might not remember, from time to time, but he will never forget. Nevertheless, there is tranquility to be had in Konoha, balm for wounds that have been gaping for too long already. That first day, Kurama had thought he would be bombarded with old memories, the reminders of his failures in another life, but...

But instead, he's found peace.

They all fought, back in Kurama's timeline. Everyone who could, right down to the civilians who had the courage to pick up swords and defend their homes even if they'd never wielded anything more dangerous than a hoe before. For the first few years, every death had been a personal failure, something Kurama should have been able to prevent but hadn't. In time, though, while each death still tore at him, ripped at his soul and his mind in equal measure, he'd begun to understand that they had all made their choices. They were all doing what had to be done, taking the only remaining option, and only a fool or a madman would accept all the fault.

Kurama's never been particularly smart when it comes to grief, or loss, but he can respect sacrifice. He can accept a friend's dying gesture, and grow stronger from their memories.

"Kurama-san," an aged voice calls, and Kurama blinks, jolted out of his thoughts. He turns and bows to the Hokage, who is just emerging from a teahouse with a familiar figure in tow.

Seeing Iruka-sensei is like confronting all over again the fact that he's in the past, that he still has time and opportunity to save those he loves so dearly. It takes so very much effort not to beam at the man and pull him into a tight hug.

"Hokage-sama," he answers politely. "How are you today?"

The old man smiles at him, warm and fond, and Kurama wonders, just briefly and with some awe, what he's done to earn such an expression. "A bit damp, but otherwise very well," he says cheerfully. "I apologize for interrupting your plans, but might I speak with you in my office?"

Before Kurama can answer, Iruka has taken a step forward, eyes narrowed, and the redhead almost recoils before he realizes that the expression—a dangerous one, more than capable of cowing Kages and reining in entire hordes of rowdy children armed with sharp, pointy objects—isn't directed at him.

Kakashi beams his bullshit smile and says innocently, "Maa, Iruka-sensei, what's the matter?"

If anything, Iruka's eyes narrow further. "You," he growls, and Kurama takes a discreet step back as the chuunin stalks forward. It's telling that the Sandaime does the same. "Your jounin instructor paperwork is three weeks overdue, Hatake."

There's a long moment of silence where Kakashi simply blinks, and then he reaches up to rub faux-sheepishly at the back of his head. "Oh?" he asks guilelessly. "Really?"

Iruka makes a sound like a cat dumped into a bubble-bath and pounces. Kakashi attempts to evade, springing for the rooftops, but the Academy instructor is hot on his heels and lunges again, knocking him off the roof as he touches down and following him over the far side of the building. The sound of wood breaking and something metal impacting something decidedly not rips through the air, and then there's silence again.