Those who had been close to Iruka, those who had supported and helped him, were his friends Yugao and Jun. They had lost family members in the Kyubi’s assault on Konoha. With time, their group had fractured, but Iruka had always known they would be there for him. Their jokes, their training, their games, their confidences. Iruka had been the most rambunctious and the worst student in their group, but they had been a group, the Explosive Trio… and he had always been able to count on them.

The years had passed, but he had never forgotten. Yugao was a member of the ANBU and an expert in Kenjutsu, but she never snubbed Iruka, a teacher at the Academy, when they crossed paths. She told him the latest rumors, laughed at his jokes, and introduced him to her friends. Iruka and Yugao no longer frequented the same circles, but the kind of bond they had created was not easily broken.

It was Jun that Iruka was closest to, but it was all to the young Uchiha's credit. Iruka and Yugao devoted themselves to their jobs, but Jun spent as much energy maintaining their bonds of friendship as completing missions. Iruka couldn't help but be impressed. His own genin team had slowly dissipated after Madoka Hyuga became chunin. It was the natural order of things…

But Jun had refused to let Madoka disappear from their lives and had stubbornly kept in touch. He had stayed involved, and kept up with her issues, especially with her clan who wanted her to retire to have children. The young Uchiha even recommended her for a position in the new Konoha police.

Jun was dedicated. When people spoke of devotion or loyalty, they often thought of the village. But Iruka believed that Jun only saw a group of people and that for him, those people were "Konoha". Not the Hokage, nor the Hokages' carved faces, nor their History, but the unique group of individuals with whom he had formed personal relationships.

Jun had many connections. His former genin team, other shinobis he knew through his mother, his sister's team, ninjas he had done missions with… The list was long. Sometimes, Iruka was impressed. Jun didn't just know their names or say hello to them on the street. He got involved. If asked for help, he would do what he could to aid the person. That was Jun Uchiha's loyalty: intense, selective, and fierce.

Therefore, Iruka couldn't help but return the favor. He was there for him. It was kind of ridiculous when you thought about it because why would Jun Uchiha need Iruka? He was a jonin. He was terrifying. And now he was a clan leader! He was so much above him in the hierarchy that it was laughable.

Jun might be an impressive figure, but Iruka knew that he was also the same person who had shared his pain after the Kyubi’s rampage, the same person who had bristled like an alley cat for months hearing the disapproving whispers about his mother, the same person who had spontaneously included Iruka in his training because he was his childhood friend. So… He was there for Jun.

The first few weeks after the Uchiha massacre, Iruka didn't see him much. He was constantly at the police building, at the Hokage Office, at Shikaku Nara's house, at the Division building, at a training ground... He was learning what it was like to be a clan leader, but he also had to help reform the police… And lead patrols, as a jonin. Because of course, the whole village was on high alert! Itachi’s threat was still present. And since the Uchiha prodigy had been a high-ranking ANBU, all security systems had to be updated. Moreover, Konoha needed to appear strong after the massacre to deter other villages from attacking.

“I feel like I don't have a minute to myself anymore,” Jun told Iruka one day.

It probably wasn't just an impression, thought Iruka. He now had… how many kids in his care? And he was only sixteen. Genius or not, there are certain burdens that are heavy to bear when one is so young.

They were both sitting on the edge of a roof, their legs dangling, like when they were kids. With the sunlight falling on his face, his feet kicking in a childish gesture, and his disheveled hair, Jun looked like an average teenager.

“How are you holding up? And the rest of your family?”

Iruka wasn't talking about his sudden workload, and Jun knew it. For the whole village, the recent drama was the massacre of the Uchihas, but the tragedy that haunted Jun was more personal.

Iruka hadn't known Hazuki Uchiha very well. He remembered a beautiful woman with a soft face who smiled often, and who looked at her son with tenderness. Izumi and Kazuma had been closer to her than Jun, but the latter had still adored his mother.

“We're managing,” Jun finally sighed. “It's a good thing that there is so much to do, it prevents us from only thinking about that. But it's hard. And the massacre of the clan on top of that…”

Iruka frowned. He would have thought the massacre would have seemed trivial next to his mother's death. Jun saw his expression and grimaced.

“I don’t know how to explain it. They're two completely different heartaches, you see. Mom was… She was my mom, it's like getting stabbed in the heart, and I miss her, and it's terrible. The clan… We had our differences, but I knew some of them. I hated others and, at the same time, I didn't hate them. It's… it's cruel to think it's over. There will be no more reconciliation, no more second chances. I couldn't have saved mom; I was on a mission, but the clan... Maybe I could have done something, you know?”

“You couldn't have acted in time,” Iruka countered hesitantly because he didn't know what else to say.

Jun shrugged.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But hey, I didn't. I have…some regrets. It acts like an echo of my mother's loss. I feel like the two are amplified, and… Yeah, I'm glad there's work to be done. I don't want to think about it. I want it to pass.”

Iruka wanted to tell him it would pass, but he knew the grief never really goes away. Jun was aware of it as well. The Nine-Tails’ attack had taken place a little over seven years ago, but they had both lost their innocence that day, and it was still fresh in their minds as if it had happened yesterday.

Hazuki had been dead for three months already. It seemed to have passed so quickly. Neji had returned to the Academy the next day, pushed by his clan who didn't see why he had to stay at home to mourn a stranger. The instructor, who took care of his class, said that he had been obnoxious for a few weeks, wallowing in silence or attacking furiously at the slightest provocation.

Karin had returned to the Academy three days later, puffy-eyed and quieter than before. She and the young Hyuga had reformed their inseparable duo, but they were now so hostile to the rest of their peers that their instructor was seriously worried about how their genin team would be formed. Iruka hoped time would make things better for them.

Izumi was working hard in the hospital. Iruka had heard about it. And little Kazuma, now that there was no one to take care of him at home, was more or less on his own. Jun took him on board whenever he could. It was usually whenever he helped the police or learned clan management with Shikaku Nara. But he couldn't keep an eye on him all the time.

This wasn't normally a problem. All children of ninjas were very independent, and Kazuma was no exception. But Jun had always been protective of his little brother, and Kazuma had always been… pampered, nurtured. So instead of hanging out in the park like most kids with orphans or busy parents, Kazuma ended up with an acquaintance of his brother, Genma, Kotetsu, or Izumo.

But there was also another kid who depended on Jun. A kid who had returned to the Academy six weeks after the fact, but who probably didn't even know Hazuki Uchiha's name. And Iruka didn't really know how to bring up the subject, but he had to, because… Sasuke Uchiha was in his class, after all. He was morose, silent, and angry. He had been the lonely type before, but that had more to do with his shyness than anything else. Now… It was different.

“About Sasuke Uchiha,” Iruka began hesitantly.

Immediately Jun sighed resignedly. Iruka felt a little guilty and tried to temper his remarks.

“He's isolated, but I know he comes home every evening with Neji and Karin… So maybe it's not that bad.”

Jun clenched his jaw. Iruka rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment:

“I know you wish he wasn't your problem…”

“Exactly,” he growled. “I wish he wasn't my problem, but he is, isn't he?”

Iruka had known him long enough to know that his frustration was directed at himself, not at the boy.

“I imagine it's complicated,” he said weakly.

Complicated. It was the least we could say. Jun had had problems with the Uchiha clan. The police had killed his mother. To him, it was as if the Uchiha clan had killed his mother. Then, they were all massacred by Itachi. Itachi had exterminated the clan that had killed Jun's mother. He had left his little brother alive, and now it was Jun’s responsibility to raise him.

Just thinking about it made a confused mixture of horror, disbelief, bitterness, and regret roll in Iruka's stomach, so he didn't even want to imagine what it was like for Jun.

“I know you're doing your best with him,” he tried. “You're doing more than a lot of people in your situation would be able to, in fact. You... You treat him well, you don't ignore him, you let him live in your house like Karin…”

It was Izumi who told him… or rather who told Genma, who told Izumo, who told Iruka. In reality, Iruka would have preferred to have this information directly from Sasuke, but to extract from him an answer which was not monosyllabic was a feat. Iruka would settle for Izumi's info. Sasuke had an entourage. A family, with children of his age. He was included, he ate with them, he had help with his homework, and he had an adult in his life who cared about him. That was good.

“Really?” Jun said with a sneer as if he had followed his thoughts. “And you think that's going to make him forget the fact that his clan is dead? Do you think this will make us forget the fact that his clan killed my mother?”

Jun shook his head furiously.

“He doesn't even know. For all I know, he thinks my mom was killed by Itachi. He knows nothing. He's grieving by himself, and yes, I know, it's normal, but damn it! We also grieve, but we grieve two completely different things. We don't care about each other's grief compared to our own grief, and we can't console each other. It's so unfair! It makes me furious!”

He stopped to catch his breath. Silence returned. After a while, the tension that almost made Jun's shoulders tremble eased, and he sagged slightly as if his verbal outburst had drained his energy.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

He wasn't sure he even knew what he was apologizing for. Iruka shook his head.

“You're doing well,” he whispered. “And if you need help… I'm here.”

Because Jun was the most loyal, dedicated person he knew. And Iruka was his friend. He owed him the same kind of loyalty in return.