Chapter Text
It was love at first sight.
Minutes earlier, Kakashi had been considering walking straight into traffic instead of joining the local yakuza family.
But then he met his boss for the first time.
With his dark eyes downcast and dark hair tightly tied back, Iruka Umino emanated lazy danger. A prominent scar slid across his brown-skinned cheeks. He wore a sleek suit clearly custom tailored to his body. Holding a lit cigarette between his fingers, fit into fine black leather gloves, Iruka was looking not towards Kakashi nor the newly open door – but instead down at his feet as he stood behind his large mahogany desk. He wasn’t smiling; his entire countenance was of intense disapproval.
Finally, after a few seconds, Iruka noticed the entrance of another individual into his office…
… and his expression shifted so swiftly that Kakashi wished his vision wasn’t so fucked up so he could have fully seen it happen.
Even with his mangled gaze, Kakashi saw the yakuza boss transform from a state of deep displeasure to one of true and genuine interest.
All in an instant.
Looking right at Kakashi, Iruka declared with real warmth in his voice. “Oh, good, my new bodyguard, you’re here.” He smiled like they knew each other, as if they had been childhood friends and were just now meeting again after too many years apart. It was so unsettling that Kakashi questioned for a single sharp moment if he had actually met Iruka before.
But, no, Kakashi had been a policeman for the last seven years, his first and only job since high school graduation, and he had very little interaction with yakuza in or out of uniform.
And, without a doubt, Iruka was yakuza.
He absolutely looked like one, although he seemed a bit young to be running things. Iruka had slicked-back hair and the fine cunning looks of a predator; his sharp suit was so terribly custom-made for him that it looked like he had a beautiful grey-hued skin. He held his cigarette with loose confidence, as if it was a natural extension of his hand.
So very bewilderingly, his expression was pure pleasure at seeing Kakashi in his office.
Smiling directly at him, Iruka gestured with his free hand. “Come in, close the door.”
As Kakashi did so, his movements strangely unsteady, a pained groan came from somewhere behind Iruka’s wooden desk.
Kakashi glanced down and then back up towards the other man; he was unsettled to see the yakuza hadn’t changed his expression whatsoever hearing the sound of agony at his feet.
Instead, Iruka’s smile went a bit wider, and he informed Kakashi with easy serenity, seeming absolutely at peace with himself and his yakuza lifestyle:
“An assassin recently stabbed me in the back, and I’m hoping you can make sure that doesn’t happen again. Do you think you can help me out?”
Iruka sounded so unexpectedly like he was an old friend asking for a simple small favor that Kakashi found himself nodding straightaway, his face going more serious, his body instinctively straightening at the assigned task.
Seeing his immediate affirmative response, Iruka grew even more delighted with Kakashi: he looked like he had just been handed his favorite treat by a schoolyard crush. His eyes crinkled at the edges, his lips went into a pleased cat-like smile. “Wonderful, thank you,” Iruka practically purred, never taking his eyes off of Kakashi.
Then he brought up his leg – and kicked with incredible strength something behind his desk – which Kakashi instantly realized was a barely conscious man sprawled on the floor.
Before Kakashi could step forward, Iruka dropped down into a crouch, staying halfway visible to him. The young yakuza took a short drag of his cigarette, blowing out dark smoke over his shoulder, and then said down to the man with sudden steeliness, “I told you not to sell drugs by the school, and you couldn’t even obey my order for a single week.”
Shaking his head and pursing his lips, Iruka looked like a disappointed father, except that he was radiating absolute murder in his stance. “If you enjoy being hurt, Kato-san, you just need to tell me, and I’ll make you cry all night long, you sweet stupid thing.”
Forcing a blush down and off his face, Kakashi felt himself blink in surprise. He thought for a second that maybe he misheard the yakuza, who currently looked barely restrained in his fury. Surely Iruka Umino had not just propositioned his disobedient subordinate just seconds after kicking him? Was he just being cruel? Homophobic and cruel? Iruka couldn’t be gay, yakuza weren’t gay. They were known for womanizing, for visiting prostitutes, for owning brothels.
So Iruka was being cruel because he knew the man was gay?
Shit, yakuza are merciless.
Iruka shrugged nonchalantly while looking down at what Kakashi imagined was the man’s bloodied face. He continued with tight-voiced calm, “But, seeing as you’re such a mess right now, I think you simply made a mistake, and you truly regret it, and you’re never going to do it again. Am I right?”
The mostly hidden man made a whimpered comment that Kakashi couldn’t make out.
Apparently Iruka couldn’t understand him either, because the yakuza’s face darkened in a flash, and then he was scolding the other man, his tone becoming markedly louder, sounding like a horribly frustrated teacher reprimanding a mouthy kid:
“Kato-san, you either be clear with your apology, or my new bodyguard will spend the night scrubbing your blood off my shoes. Speak up.”
And he instantly got an uncomfortably loud response:
“I apologize, Boss-sama! I BEG YOUR FORGIVENESS!”
After his sudden exclamation, the man fell into a choked fit of crying.
Still crouched over the man, Iruka’s face went warm with relief. “Oh, Kato-san. Please don’t ever disappoint me again. Your mother would be so sad to attend your funeral, even if you are only her third son. She really loves you, you know.” He reached over and apparently patted the man somewhere – maybe on the head? was Iruka actually patting the drug dealer’s hair? the same man who he was threatening, who he had obviously beaten the shit out of?
How terrifying…
Standing up with languid ease, Iruka took another draw of his cigarette and turned to look over at Kakashi again. The unusual childhood-friend-smile instantly returned to his face.
Absolutely fucking terrifying. It’s like he’s on a switch.
Kakashi received his first order in the form of a sweetly-worded request, one that was deceptively suggestive of free will. “Hound-san, can you please escort Kato-san out of the building? Either leave him in the street, or get him a taxi, whatever you think he’s worth.”
But Kakashi knew to look underneath the underneath: this was a test, this was his first test.
Iruka stepped aside, clearly letting Kakashi have space to take the drug dealer away, which Kakashi did with an unfamiliar stumble of movement forward. He was relieved that the yakuza was on his right side where he could best see the man, but, as he got his first full look of Kato, he realized that he was entering a truly different field of work than his time on the police force.
Older than Iruka by nearly a decade and dressed far more informally, Kato was actually quite conscious, but his nose was badly broken, tear-streaked blood smeared about his mouth. He was clutching at his ribs where Iruka had kicked him, indicating he had a number of broken bones there as well. Quite appropriately, he was keeping his eyes averted from his displeased boss, but he didn’t look at Kakashi either as he was manhandled up to standing.
Before Kakashi could draw him away from the desk and Iruka, Kato flinched and started to struggle a little against him, but Kakashi found his broken ribs and pressed down hard, making the other man lose his breath and make a high-pitched pained whine. He wasn’t really interested in hurting the man, but he was certainly not about to be embarrassed in front of his potential employer – his new employer? – within the first five minutes of meeting him.
Plus… Kakashi could feel the weight of Iruka’s stare on his body, on his actions, on his choices.
As he dragged Kato out of the yakuza boss’s office, Kakashi had already made up his mind: he passed the few other subordinates lingering around without looking at them, and he was in the street in record time. Even with his bad eye, the taxis stood out in overly bright yellow, and, even though they definitely knew he was with the yakuza, he managed to get one of them to stop.
Shoving Kato in the back of the car, Kakashi took out his wallet, pushed probably too much money into the driver’s hand, and waved them off without turning back around.
He dropped out of his tense policeman training a moment later, walking up the building’s central staircase with deliberately false laziness.
The other yakuza eyed him more clearly on his return, but Kakashi kept his eyes ahead at Iruka’s office, which he went to straight towards without a comment towards the others.
He knocked on Iruka’s door, heard a modest “Come in,” and entered, carefully closing the door behind him.
Still standing behind his desk and smoking the very last of his cigarette, Iruka was giving him a truly impressive smile. It somehow combined both the I’m-pleased-to-see-you-old-friend smile and the I’m-so-happy-you’ll-kill-people-for-me smile that he’d already given Kakashi in the last ten minutes alone.
Iruka’s eyes were noticeably brighter than when Kato was in the room.
Never looking away from Kakashi, Iruka put out his cigarette in a crystal ashtray on his desk. Still smiling, the yakuza remarked in a sly tone, seemingly amused, “You put Kato-san in a taxi. You think he’s worth that kind of care?”
As he worked to keep his stance relaxed and confident, Kakashi gave his answer while returning Iruka’s fond but foreboding stare, “You said his mother loves him.”
Pure danger was taking over Iruka’s stance again. He was like a beautiful panther, and he clearly knew it; he was absolutely ruthless as he walked forward towards Kakashi in an easy, slow stride.
“Maybe she’s worthless, too, though. Did you ever think of that?” Iruka mused, his dark eyes fixed on Kakashi’s face.
“You called him Kato-san,” Kakashi insisted, trying to keep his voice steady.
He could feel his heart in his throat.
Iruka was still closing the distance between them, all while giving him that dreadfully complicated and threatening smile. “Maybe I’m polite when I’m angry,” the yakuza countered, his voice low, his tone cool.
“You gave him a second chance,” Kakashi found himself saying, suddenly becoming quiet. He stared with his mutilated vision directly into Iruka’s dark brown eyes; the yakuza was within inches of him, raising a gloved hand towards Kakashi’s face.
Kakashi killed his every instinct – his trained police reflexes, his inherent human nature – as Iruka slowly swept aside the shock of silver hair covering his scar and mostly destroyed eye. He could have looked away from Iruka, but instead Kakashi stared right at him, their heights nearly the same, the other man only a few inches shorter than him.
The yakuza was looking at his eyes, glancing between them, assessing the damage, taking in Kakashi’s previously hidden reddened left eye.
“You were highly recommended,” Iruka said in a soft, wistful way as he studied Kakashi’s face with barely a few breaths between them.
“A disgraced cop who killed his partner in friendly fire…”
Kakashi felt his heart slowing down in his chest.
“… his dishonorable father dead by suicide decades ago…”
And then it was skipping a beat.
“… a survivor of a knife attack by a drug addict…”
Skipping another beat, slamming into a wall of rage, stopping entirely.
But then Iruka’s gloved hand dropped off Kakashi’s face and caught him by the back of the neck. The yakuza pulled him forward so their faces nearly collided, with only Kakashi’s stability saving them from sheer violence.
Not that Iruka seemed to care. He was smiling his satisfied feline smile, staring deep into both of Kakashi’s eyes, the black one and the badly damaged one as well.
Unlike so many people, Iruka wasn’t avoiding the grotesque sight of Kakashi’s jagged scar through his pale skin, the visible divot into his eyeball, the bright red broken blood vessels, the messy white ghostliness of the once-dark iris.
Instead – so very clearly – Iruka Umino, young yakuza boss, was glorying in being so close to Kakashi, enjoying Kakashi as he truly was in this very moment, in his bloodiest ugliest state of existence.
“I’m going to kiss you, Hound-san,” Iruka warned him, dark eyes lighting up with dangerous interest, even as he brought them even closer together. But the yakuza’s voice was truly soft and pleading as he whispered, never looking away from Kakashi, “Please never leave my side.”
Like he’d lost his very mind, Kakashi found himself nodding in perfect obedience as Iruka pressed his lips against his own, giving him the gentlest kiss he’d ever had in his long terrible life.