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“We found their bodies.”

Iruka was vaguely aware of arms catching him, of Genma calling his name, and voices, many voices, swimming in and out of focus. Kakashi had been gone for five months. He had been missing for two months, and, according to reports, dead for three days by the time ANBU had found them. Officially, his mission had been extended. Unofficially, Kakashi and his team had ignored Tsunade’s orders and followed their own leads. It had gotten them killed.

Somehow, Iruka had made it home. He knew it wasn’t by his own power. One minute he’d been working in the mission room, the crowd parting as a pair of ANBU walked in the room and headed straight for Iruka. He’d thought they’d come to take him for interrogation, that Kakashi was finally being declared Missing-nin. Instead, they’d told him Kakashi was dead. Sometime between then and now, he’d ended up on his couch, a bloody hitae in his hand.

There were other people in the room. They came and left, empty voices that spoke around him, sometimes to him. He had no idea what they said. He never looked up to see who was there. He stared at the hitae, his fingers tracing the symbol etched on the metal, the sign of their village. Every now and then he caught snippets of conversations that he wasn’t meant to hear. There would be a funeral. Their bodies were with the Hokage. Closed casket. Mutilated. Kakashi had been the worst.

Whoever had done this had been after Kakashi. It had been targeted, and he had no doubt that whoever had broken into the records room had killed Kakashi. He wanted to know what Kakashi had found, but it was probably better that he didn’t. If he knew, if he had a target, then nothing would stop him until he killed the bastard who had killed Kakashi. The more likely outcome would be that he got himself killed instead.

He didn’t even know where to start. He had no clue where Kakashi had been, or what the man he’d been tracking looked like. He didn’t even know if the spy was a man. It could be anyone, and the fact that they’d gotten in in the first place, that they’d managed to break into Kakashi’s records, past all the guards, meant there was a high likelihood that they could break in again, despite the heightened guard. That meant, that eventually, they might come after him. Kakashi had known that, which is likely why he hadn’t returned when ordered. He’d died trying to protect Iruka.

Iruka wondered if the person who broke into Kakashi’s record knew about Kakashi’s child. If they did, then they likely knew more about the child than Iruka did. That thought was slightly galling. Iruka didn’t even know if it was a boy or a girl. How old was it now? Maybe a year? A little less? At least now the Council could rest easy knowing that Kakashi’s bloodline was secure. Iruka dropped the hitae and buried his face in his hands. He made no effort to stifle the tears that suddenly overwhelmed him. The voices stopped. The couch dipped next to Iruka and arms wrapped around him. He didn’t know who it was but it didn’t matter. Kakashi was gone.

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