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"Kakashi," the Saindaime says patiently, "no one is saying you have to retire permanently. But you have a responsibility to your family, as I'm sure you are aware. You'd only be out of the field for a year or so."
Kakashi simply pushes up her hitae-ate and looked at him with mismatched eyes.
"Who will train Uchiha Sasuke?" she asks, in calm, measured tones. "Is there someone else able to teach him to use the Sharingan?"
The Hokage shakes his head.
"You know there isn't. But you could give him lessons while he's here, and arrange for his jounin-sensei to report to you when they return from their missions."
"No," Kakashi says, "The kind of training he'll need to use it in combat will be too strenuous." The Hokage winces, and Kakashi knows he recalls her mother's death in childbirth, how even Tsunade-hime's best efforts had not been able to save her, how aware he is that none of their current doctors hold a candle to Tsunade's skill.
"I will not train him under those conditions." She shuts Obito's eye, and slips the hitae-ate back down.
The Hokage closes his eyes, and raises a hand to his temples. "Kakashi," he says patiently, tipping back his hat, "You're twenty-six. Most women your age are retired or retiring."
"I am not most women my age, Hokage-sama." Kakashi folds her arms, and leans back in her chair. She knows she will win this discussion, because she is right: there is no one else to train Uchiha Sasuke, no one who has the Sharingan besides her, Konoha's Copy Nin. That will buy her a year or two, she thinks.
She doesn't think about what pretext she'll have to use after that. Kakashi refuses to resign herself to the prospect of destroying all the work she has put into honing herself into a weapon. The fact that her body must betray her this way, trapping her in Konoha with a baby, makes her shudder.
Finally, the Hokage sighs. "You're right, Kakashi," he admits, "there isn't anyone else to train Sasuke. But there is also no one else who can make sure your family continues, and there will be a limit to how long you can postpone your duties in that arena." This is the firmest he has been on the subject, and she sees her chances of further delaying this duty after Sasuke is trained diminishing, falling away like dew in the sunlight.
"Yes, yes," she says casually, hopping up and heading for the door, already digging for her book. "Pleasure talking with you, Hokage-sama." And she walks out before he can respond, unwilling to wait for any follow-up comments he might have.
* * *
It isn't until well after Akatsuki has shown their hand, Sasuke has left and Tsunade has been installed as the Fifth Hokage that the subject of Kakashi having children comes up again.
"Hokage-sama," Kakashi greets, coming to attention in front of Tsunade's desk.
"Sit: we're talking kids," she says, pointing, and then hands Kakashi a cup of sake, raising her own glass in salute as Kakashi tugs her mask down to drink. It's actually pretty good sake: Kakashi pours another for Tsunade as she takes a seat.
"Have you picked a surrogate yet?" Tsunade asks, and Kakashi blinks, feeling a bit blindsided.
"Um, what?"
"A surrogate mother." Tsunade is looking at her oddly. "You can't possibly think we can afford to have you out of the field right now, Kakashi. And, if the records I've just been reviewing are to be believed," she says wryly, "there's always going to be some reason we can't spare you." She seems to take in Kakashi's pole-axed expression, all the more visible for her mask still being down - Tsunade is one of the few people granted that privilege, these days.
"Don't tell me no one ever mentioned the idea," Tsunade says, incredulous, "did they really expect you to retire?"
"The council seems to have expected that my highest desire ought to be to spend several months increasingly uncomfortable, and then to take care of an infant on my own," Kakashi responds, feeling as if she is dreaming. "I can't imagine why I disagreed."
Tsunade pours Kakashi another drink, and Kakashi returns the favor.
"To idiots," Tsunade says, and the two of them drink.
They speak briefly about the state of Konoha, what kinds of missions Kakashi will be sent on, and what kinds of work needs to be done in village and out. They don't need to mention how worrying the silence from Orochimaru and the Akatsuki is: when Jiraya returns with more information, they can plan: for now, it would be baseless speculation.
When Kakashi finally stands to leave, Tsunade says, "Oh, Kakashi? Do try to pick someone who doesn't leave the village much on missions. We can't really pull anyone very active off the roster, right now." Kakashi nods, and leaves, hopeful but completely baffled.
* * *
So suddenly Kakashi finds herself watching the kunoichi of Konoha and trying to evaluate them for childbearing. She wants someone fairly strong, by shinobi standards, which rules out most of the civilians and even a good number of ninja. She knows broad hips are better than narrow, that someone in good physical shape is ideal, and of course, someone who doesn't hate her is pretty much essential. And that knocks out the one or two women still single in her age group.
Anyone very much older than she is would be at too much risk, so Kakashi starts looking younger: she sets her minimum at chuunin-rank, at least 18. The younger girls, even those a year or two older than Team Seven, seem appallingly frivolous, and she can't imagine having to interact with them for any length of time. And of course anyone with a bloodline limit or family jutsu is impossible. (If not, she thinks, Inuzuka Hana might be a good choice.)
It isn't until Kakashi is reminded of Naruto while walking past Ichiraku Ramen that Iruka-sensei occurs to her. But once she does, Kakashi can't stop thinking about it. Iruka fits all her qualifications, and she's good with kids on top of it. (Kakashi isn't sure when she started thinking this person would be around after the kid is born, but it certainly makes sense: she's not going to be able to take care of a kid by herself when she's gone half the time.)
* * *
Kakashi really wishes she hadn't been quite so cutting when Iruka protested her nomination of Team 7: it was a knee-jerk reaction, and she thinks maybe if she can just get Iruka to see that? But it seems like Iruka's never really been one to do what's expected, so maybe not.
Kakashi could spend ages worrying about this, but she knows waiting won't do any good. So she walks up to Iruka one day when she's eating lunch just outside the Academy, keeping an eye on her kids, who are scattered around the yard, eating and playing, and, in one case, doing very inadvisable things with practice kunai.
"Iruka-sensei," Kakashi says, dropping into a crouch before her.
"Ka-Kakashi-san," Iruka says, obviously a little taken aback, before her expression smoothes out. "Is there something I can do for you, Kakashi-san?" Her tone is flawless, perfectly polite with only the faintest hint of curiosity. So she did get something out of those damn kunoichi lessons, after all, for all she yells after the kids like a banshee, Kakashi thinks, somewhat irrelevantly.
"Well," she says, not entirely certain how to broach the subject. It isn't every day you walk up to someone and ask her to get knocked up in your place. Iruka is looking at her with increasingly visible curiosity. "Yes, there might be." Kakashi's mouth is a little dry, and she says, words tumbling out fast, "can I talktoyouafterschooltoday?"
Iruka looks at her very curiously, and then smiles. "Sure," she says, picking up her lunch again, and absently selecting a rice ball. "Class gets out around four." Kakashi looks at her, and then, in a puff, disappears.
* * *
When class gets out, Kakashi is already waiting for Iruka by the school entrance. Given how often Iruka has heard Naruto complain about Kakashi-sensei's incurable lateness, she's surprised and a little nervous. The only things Kakashi is usually on time to seems to be meetings with the Hokage and missions. And even then, the definition of "on time" sometimes gets stretched a bit.
"Iruka-sensei," Kakashi says, and she sounds a bit strained. "I have a– well, a strange question to ask of you. Will you promise to hear me out?" Iruka nods, and Kakashi takes a breath. They're walking towards the training fields, which ought to be empty this time of day. When they get to the memorial stone, Kakashi looks at it for a moment, then sits, looking out at the field. For lack of something better to do, Iruka sits as well.
"You like children, don't you?" Kakashi asks, and Iruka nods, a little thrown.
"Yeah," she says, smiling slightly. "They can be little bastards sometimes, but I like kids."
"That's good," Kakashi says vaguely, and lapses into silence again. Iruka waits: she's never been very patient, but some things can't be rushed. She gets the feeling that if she pushes too hard Kakashi will bolt, like a startled animal.
"Do you want them?" Kakashi asks, finally, "I mean, kids of your own. Do you want them?" Iruka feels winded. Most of her friends don't bring this up anymore.
"What?" she demands, "Why --" Iruka calms herself with an effort: she's promised to hear Kakashi out. She takes a deep breath and counts backwards from ten.
"Yes," she admits, finally. "Yes, very much." It almost hurts, admitting it. Iruka is twenty-five and definitely single; many of the women she knows are already married with children; most are at least seeing someone. Somewhere along the line, she fell out of step with things - or maybe she never was in step in the first place. She winces, hearing the raw longing in her voice.
"Even with everything you'd have to give up?" Kakashi asks, curiosity clear. "All the changes? You'd have to-"
"I'd only have to get a substitute to teach my classes for a few weeks, Kakashi-san," Iruka says plainly. "And take fewer shifts at the desk for a little while, I suppose."
"Hm."
"I imagine it would be more complicated than that if I were going on missions regularly," Iruka says into the silence. She doesn't know why Kakashi has pulled her out like this: surely Kakashi has friends better suited to this conversation than Iruka, who is practically a stranger.
"Yes," Kakashi says, "very much so." She takes a deep breath. "Which is why Tsunade suggested I consider a surrogate. Well," she amends, looking down at her hands, "ordered, really." She stops, and if Iruka didn't know better, she'd think Kakashi was anxious.
"Oh," Iruka says, a little lamely, "that makes a lot of sense." They sit quietly for another moment, and Kakashi watches her face from the corner of her eye. It looks like she's expecting some kind of answer, and Iruka is confused, before she finally puts all the pieces together. Her head spins.
"Wait." she says. "Kakashi-san," and she tries to phrase this carefully, "are you asking me to be your surrogate?"
"Well," Kakashi says, scratching at the back of her head awkwardly, "yes, I suppose I am."
Iruka stares.
"But!" Iruka says, finally, "you hardly know me!"
"Well, Naruto talks about you a lot." Kakashi says, "And I know you've got guts, Iruka-sensei: you do what you think is right, and damn the consequences. Your students like you; their parents like you, Tsunade trusts you, or you wouldn't be on the desk, and the third Hokage trusted you." Iruka thinks she should probably say something here, but she's stunned. "And, well, I don't give much credence to the gossip mill, in case you were wondering," Kakashi finishes.
"Oh," Iruka says faintly. That's a far cry from thinking her incompetent and over-emotional, to say the least. "Um. That's kind of a big question." If this is a genjutsu, Iruka thinks absently, she hasn't much of a hope of getting out of it on her own: Kakashi is too good, and it's never been one of her strengths.
Kakashi doesn't slump, exactly, but some of the expectation goes out of the set of her shoulders.
"I don't-" Iruka says, quickly, "I'm not saying no, I'm just. It's a big question." Kakashi breathes out in what Iruka's pretty sure is relief.
"But you'll -- I mean, will you think about it?" Kakashi asks, and Iruka can hear the thread of hope beneath those words. She wonders how many other women have turned Kakashi down before she asked Iruka, whether any of them were cruel about it.
* * *
Iruka invites Kakashi over for dinner the next weekend, almost ten days after Kakashi first asked her. Iruka knows she's not a great cook -- Mizuki was always better at that (she shakes her head, trying to rid herself of that ever-persistent echo, Mizuki, Mizuki, Mizuki) -- but she can put together a balanced meal, and does well enough for herself. By the look in Kakashi's eyes when she walks in and smiles, she might even have done a good job tonight.
They talk for a little while over dinner, about students they've had in common -- Naruto could probably have furnished them with an entire night's conversation, were either of them so inclined -- and Iruka finds that Kakashi is a good conversationalist, and more widely read than she'd expected. She'll certainly never top Kakashi's knowledge of military history, though when Iruka asks where Kakashi learned about a maneuver Iruka has only seen referred to, not described in so much detail, Kakashi's eyes darken, and she says only "something I heard when I was a child" and abruptly changes the subject.
After Iruka brings out tea and some sliced fruit for dessert she sits and wipes her hands nervously on her pant legs.
"So," she starts, "Kakashi-san, how would surrogacy work, exactly?" Kakashi nearly drops the slice of melon she's raising to her mouth. Iruka grins. "Sorry," she says, "I didn't mean to catch you - well." She kicks herself. Surely Kakashi will hear her stumbling over her tongue and change her mind?
"Well," Kakashi begins, settling back to the floor, "a lot of that would depend on you." Iruka nods. "This hasn't really been done before," Kakashi says, "or, at least, not in Konoha, and not for my particular reasons. So there's a lot of flexibility."
Iruka braces herself, but Kakashi is watching her. She takes a breath and then launches in with her biggest concern.
"I would want to be able to see the child. Or children," she says, "after they're born. At least sometimes?" Kakashi doesn't disagree, and Iruka continues, looking down at her hands, balled into fists in her lap. She knows this is impossible, but finds she's unable to stop herself from saying "I mean, what I'd really like is to be there all the time, but-"
"Oh, thank god," Kakashi says, relief plain and obvious in her voice, and Iruka looks up from her hands. "Iruka-sensei, of course you'd be involved after - why do you think I care that you're good with children in the first place? I can't be in Konoha all the time."
Iruka looks down again, trying not to let herself feel disappointment -- this is better than she'd hoped, after all, and even if she's sort of a glorified babysitter, well, Kakashi is gone an awful lot, so she'll get to be involved until they're old enough to go to school, at least. And then maybe they'll (and when did she start thinking of this as more than one child?) be in her class. She feels hands on her cheeks, tipping her face up to look at Kakashi, who has pulled her mask down all the way - she really is beautiful, Iruka thinks, even with the scar.
"Iruka-sensei," Kakashi says softly, keeping eye contact, "I think I've been unclear." Iruka blinks, and Kakashi continues, "I'm not really asking you just to be my surrogate," she says, fingers warm on Iruka's face, "I'm asking if you're willing to be a mother."
Iruka stares. Without really even thinking about it, she brings her hands up to her chest, makes the sign to break genjutsu. Nothing changes. Kakashi, who startled when Iruka brought her hands into position, smiles feebly.
"That bad?" she asks, and Iruka shakes her head.
"No," she says, "no, I -- why me?" she asks, helplessly. "There must be someone --" She looks down at her hands again, "I'm a good Academy teacher," she says, "a very good Academy teacher, even. And I like kids, but ... isn't there someone else?"
Kakashi looks at her oddly.
"If you don't want to," she says, sitting back, and letting go of Iruka's face (the air feels cool after Kakashi’s palms) "that's all right. I know it's a lot to ask."
"No," Iruka says hastily, "no, it's not that." She stops. "But, why me?" Kakashi looks at her for a moment, and something seems to occur to her.
"Well," she begins, "you're strong enough. You're sensible, you're in good health, your family doesn't have any recorded medical conditions. You don't have a bloodline limit or family tradition to pass along, as far as I know." Kakashi ticks points off on her fingers as she speaks. Iruka shakes her head, and Kakashi continues.
"You're good with children, you're younger than me, but not too much, you don't have a partner who would object, you probably don't hate me, and unlike a lot of the women I know, I don't dislike your company," Kakashi says, holding up both her hands, "and," she pauses awkwardly for a moment, "that all sounded better in my head," she admits, flushing a little bit and scratching the back of her head.
Iruka feels a sudden rush of affection for Kakashi at that, as she sits across Iruka's table and looks every bit as awkward as Iruka has felt time and again: it makes her seem human in a way she hasn't really before.
"All right," Iruka says, before she can talk herself out of it, before she can remind herself again of all the differences between herself and Kakashi, all the reasons it can't possibly work. "All right, yes."
Kakashi's smile is wide and honest and relieved.
* * *
The ten days before Iruka agrees feel like some of the longest of Kakashi’s life.
When Kakashi tells Tsunade, the Hokage seems to approve and it feels like the matter is maybe settled. But that only lasts for a moment: then Tsunade tells her to pick a father, and Kakashi goes through the same thing all over again, only it's not just the men older than her who are largely ruled out: it's most of them.
A kunoichi isn't supposed to steal the thunder: she's supposed to be quiet, helpful, to stay in the background. Even Tsunade-hime often stood back while her teammates did the heavy hitting, even though she could very well have done it herself. Kakashi has never done this. She's pretty sure she wouldn't have done so even if her team had been her and two boys: as it was, she was always the front line for Obito and Rin, higher-ranked and stronger and more experienced.
Kakashi wants someone who is strong, of course: her family didn't survive as a clan by picking partners thoughtlessly. And she wants someone who isn't a jackass, and isn't going to try to take over, or drive her completely insane before the baby is even born, or disappear entirely once the kid shows up. And she’s pretty sure asking someone who’s married (or as good as, like Asuma is) would only end badly. When it really comes down to it, there's really only one person Kakashi wants to ask who's still alive.
She looks forward to the look on Tenzo's face when she brings it up: he's had a puppy crush on her for almost ten years.
* * *
Kakashi drops in on Tenzo while he's training.
He's pulling up wooden structures in a variety of shapes, and then hitting smaller and smaller targets farther and farther away with what could almost be called arrows, much narrower than his usual attacks, detached, rather than his customary single-growth pieces. She could walk up in full sight and announce her presence, but that's no fun. Instead, she drops down just behind him, blocking the three blows he tosses her direction and tossing kunai toward the two clones that jump her, dispelling them. Then he drops out of sight, and she looks around, wary.
With another person with an earth affinity, she'd take to the trees to avoid an earth jutsu. With Tenzo, that would be as good as suicide. So she extends her senses, and when he tries to pop up and catch her in a headhunter jutsu, she tries out something she saw a little while ago, hands flying through seals to turn the ground beneath her molten with a modified fire jutsu. With someone else she might hold back -- not actually risk frying him -- but Tenzo can just wrap himself up in water or earth or even wood underground - she knows how effective his walls can be.
When he still manages to pull her about halfway underground, she is impressed: also very uncomfortable, until she manages to pull herself back up out of the earth.
"Kakashi-sempai," Tenzo greets her. He seems absolutely unsurprised to have been jumped more-or-less out of thin air.
"Tenzo," she replies, dusting off her pants. "Not bad."
She lets him draw her into a sparring match -- an intentional one, this time. By the time they stop, both of them are breathing heavily and a little scorched: Kakashi needs to practice that new jutsu a little more before she'll be willing to use it in a real fight.
"So," she says, flopping down on the ground, "you know the Sandaime was after me to have kids." Tenzo stills, then sits carefully to her right, well within reach and eyeshot.
"Yes," he replies, a little guarded, "and I know you hated the idea, Kakashi-sempai." He sounds confused, and a little like he expects her to pull something out of thin air to ambush him with. The funny part is, he's not actually wrong.
"Well," Kakashi continues, lying back, hands folded between her head (she's not sure she can get this out if she's actually looking at him). "Tsunade suggested a surrogate mother, to keep me in the field."
He nods in her peripheral vision.
"I'd still need to find a father," she continues, watching the clouds overhead very intently. Maybe she'll ask Shikamaru what that little fiddly wispy kind is called, Kakashi thinks, listening carefully for Tenzo's response. When he says nothing for several minutes, she closes her eye.
"This is where you say yes or no, kohai," she says, very quietly. "You don't have to. But-"
Tenzo leans over, his shadow falling cool over her face; she opens her eye to see him looking down at her, eyes as fathomless as ever.
"Yes," he says, "of course, yes." He pauses and then bends down almost hesitantly to brush a kiss across her lips: she doesn't move, surprised. He sits back up, and they rest in silence for a few minutes.
A few minutes later, he asks about the details, who the surrogate will be -- he seems unsurprised by her choice of Iruka-sensei, which she takes as a good sign.
"Come on," she says finally, "we can talk about the rest of it over dinner." And when he offers her a hand up, she smiles, and takes it.