To Be Alive At All Is To Have Scars (Kakashi Hatake x Iruka Umino)

Chapter One

Kakashi Hatake wakes up every morning with an ache in the center of his back.

Today is no different.

Kakashi jolts up in a cold sweat, not because it's the middle of the worst summer Konoha has had in years, but because his mind remains insistent on having him remember a million different versions of all the deaths he's witnessed throughout his life through vivid nightmares every single night. At this point, the memories- the dreams, hallucinations, whatever they are now- hardly phase Kakashi so long as he doesn't take the time to dwell.

The Jonin tosses his legs over the side of the bed and stretches, though it doesn't give the pain that runs through his joints any due relief. Rather, he feels every injury; every broken bone, every stab, every patch of stitched together skin and worn tendon barely kept whole by his willpower due to the past two decades he's spent as a shinobi. Out of all of it, the giant scar on his back hurts the worst. It was no fault of his own, rather a result of his soulmate's self-sacrificial nature.

Hell, Kakashi still remembers the night that Iruka got the damn thing. It all started with Lord Third sending out an emergency alert that Naruto had stolen a sacred scroll full of forbidden jutsu, and it ended with Kakashi panicking while being told by Guy and Aoba that Mizuki had betrayed the village and severely wounded Iruka. Days later, Kakashi had the scar on his back as yet another reminder of his soulmate bond with Iruka, who is still totally unaware of the fact.

Though Kakashi has never been religious, he can't forget how he found himself thanking whatever God might be out there upon hearing that Iruka's condition was stable just days later. And, every time the weather is drastic enough to make the scar or even his whole spine hurt from what happened, he finds himself grateful that Iruka is still alive. The scar is just proof of that.

Kakashi gets up and makes the short trek to his bathroom. In his apartment, everything feels small and safe. Many would argue that the lack of decor and neutral color scheme are soulless, but Kakashi would argue back that they're as soulful as his self-expression gets because unlike the outside world, they're devoid of chaos. Completely within his control. Within these walls, he gets to choose the plain wooden floors that he drags his bare feet across and the square wooden table that he eats his meals at while sitting in a lone matching chair. He gets to choose the grey chair that sits in the middle of his living room, and he gets to choose the black sheets and blankets he uses on his tiny twin-sized mattress.

Dependent on no one else, Kakashi finds the layout of his apartment to be one of the few aspects of his life that doesn't leave him overstimulated and worried about what others will think or feel.

So, Kakashi enjoys it while he can, even if he knows that the day ahead will be stressful. It's still dark outside as he pads into the bathroom and turns the shower on. The water runs ice cold to soothe the cuts on his ankles and keep him from dozing off.

Looking in the mirror, Kakashi sighs. He then runs through his usual routine on autopilot; a shower where he picks apart every scar and every other flaw he hates about himself, layering himself in a ridiculous amount of clothing to hide said scars and flaws from the world, concealer over the vertical scar that slashes over his left eye and over the horizontal scar that slashes across his nose, headband on and tilted down over said eye, bandaids on his ankles to hide the scars that are starting to form there, and shoes on his feet so he can head out the door and meet Naruto and Yamato at the training grounds.

Another twelve hours of training Naruto to make sure that he can control the Ninetails by the time the Akatsuki tries to capture him will prove stressful as it always does. Every day, Kakashi stands there reading Makeout Paradise, trying to pretend that their world isn't on the verge of ending. And, every day, Kakashi wonders if Naruto ever feels the same way or if the boy is truly as self-assured as he seems to be.

Kakashi wishes he could have just an ounce of that confidence.

He bids farewell to his apartment and steps out onto the streets of Konoha with his mask pulled over his face and the summer breeze blowing through his hair. Despite it being so hot outside, the wind offers some relief as he makes his way to the local soup shop for his morning breakfast. He sits at one of the many empty tables and orders a small cup of miso soup, which is quickly served to him.

Seconds later, Kakashi hears footsteps at the doorway. He figures that it's one of the regulars and turns to see which one it is, only to be faced with Iruka walking into the shop. He immediately turns back to the way he was facing before and hopes he goes unnoticed, but alas, he's never that lucky.

"Kakashi, I haven't seen you in a while," Iruka says with a smile upon walking up to Kakashi's table. The scars on his face are the same as Kakashi's; one over his eye, one over his nose, both bare and somehow far more beautiful than they are on Kakashi. Kakashi looks away but offers a smile of his own as well as a nod. "How have you been?"

It's not smalltalk, as Iruka doesn't really do small talk. Unlike most people, when Iruka asks how you're doing or what you've been up to, he doesn't want to hear 'good' or 'nothing much' and be done with it. Iruka wants genuine answers, which Kakashi often struggles to give when people ask him such things.

"Good," Kakashi lies. He glances over to see a glimmer of suspicion flash across Iruka's brown eyes. He knows he's lying through his teeth about how he's doing and he knows that Iruka knows too, but he also knows that they don't have the level of intimacy needed for Iruka pressing about it to be socially acceptable. So, Kakashi continues. "The same as usual... I've got to help Yamato and Naruto with training today, so I was just stopping for breakfast beforehand. How about you?"

Iruka blinks, almost as if he's surprised that someone would ask about him in return.

"I'm well, just busy with missions now that the kids are out of school for the summer. Today's actually the first day I've had off in a couple weeks," Iruka remarks and, much to Kakashi's horror, sits next to him. The thought of Iruka going on missions more often than he usually does also makes Kakashi uncomfortable, but there's not much he can do about that other than grit his teeth and remind himself that Iruka is a perfectly capable shinobi who probably won't die considering that he only does B-Rank and C-Rank missions. Kakashi nervously sips on his soup and tries to pretend that he can't feel Iruka's curious eyes racking over his makeup-covered face as he does. "Miso soup, huh?"

"Yeah. It's hard for me to keep much else down this early in the morning," Kakashi shrugs and stares into his half-empty bowl. Sitting next to Iruka and chatting with him while they eat together is too domestic for him to handle. So, he downs what's left, leaves money on the table for the tab, and stands up to leave with a shitty excuse. "I'd hate to be late, so I've gotta get going."

"We all know that's a lie," Iruka laughs, shaking his head. "But I hope you have a good day, even if you are late to your training. I'll see you later."

"Yeah... See you later," Kakashi waves, then turns and walks out of the building with a nervous sigh.

Surprisingly, while making his way to the training grounds, the last things on his mind are Naruto's progress or the impending doom that comes with the knowledge of what the Akatsuki has been doing. All he can think about instead is the fact that he's been keeping his identity as Iruka's soulmate a secret from the Chunin since they were kids- the fact that he's been avoiding Iruka from years just to keep from accidentally letting it slip

'How much longer can I keep hiding this...?'