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At The Intersection of Gauche and Obtuse	By : Sushi4Brains Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2102 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters and no profit is made from this work of fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
Gauche: lacking social grace.
He counted himself fortunate as it was almost the time of day that he enjoyed most - when the sun was at its peak, making its rays thump against his back as it kissed the nape of his neck and warmed tired muscles. After weeks of sluicing through stagnant gullies and tramping down muck filled lanes, the noise of firm soil crunching beneath the sole of his boots was a welcome sound.
Soon, he’d be inside the forests of home - the scent of fragrant loam and mosses hitching a ride on his clothing, lingering in the fabric of his mask, the gentle gurgle of runnels as they wound through the trees usually settled his nerves - what a shame they wouldn’t have a chance to do it this time.
They were intently watching him - crouched in anticipation ... impatient for him to step into their snare. These guys are sloppy … tyros, obviously … almost as if they want me to know they’re watching.
Friend or foe … difficult to determine at this point and what the front guard lacked in subtlety, they made up for in intent.
The ones backing them up however, are definitely heavy hitters.
Two things he knew of a certainty; there were far too many of them for him to tackle alone and this wasn’t an army of shadow clones.
As he walked through the boscage, chary eyes bored into his back; from the sounds of their scouting signals which were familiar and predictable, it meant these were friendly forces - announcing his entry into each sector and monitoring his location by the book.
Thankfully, he knew these woods like the back of his hand and if his assessment proved incorrect, he’d have no shame about sprinting toward the nearest ANBU outpost for assistance.
The further he journeyed into the woods, the more visible they became; scores of poorly concealed ninja arrayed on the highest boughs of ancient trees - dozens more lurking behind or blending into dense shrubs. Purposely crushing a pine cone under foot, he heard at least twenty kunai holsters snap open - he sensed nervous hands hovering over their weapons, all of them itching for the chance to make him a pincushion.
So much for my good fortune. Had I but known Academy instructors were running the pre-genin through surveillance exercises, I might have spent another night in that cave.
He was careful not to make any other sudden moves, nor veer from the established footpaths as he wended through the glades; but now as he stood overlooking the village, he let out a sigh of relief.   He was home again...muddied, not bloodied; tired, yet nowhere near chakra exhaustion.
Note to self ... have to mention this next time I see Iruka-sensei, ‘cause if the kids back there are our future defenders, he thought, may the gods have mercy on us all.
Just the idea of the pedantic chunnin flying into a rage was enough to make him laugh as gentle winds nudged him down the sloping hill toward the main gates.
He paid no mind to the rising steam from the lumber mills in the west, neither did he give a second thought to the overabundance of shinobi patrolling the village ramparts. Something in the air made him wrinkle his nose.
Hmm … maybe I should hit the bathhouse before debriefing Lady Tsunade.
Once he passed through the web of checkpoints outside and inside the gates, the rancid smell of panic slapped him in the face.
Fresh hewn timber, its fragrance drifting on the breezes welcomed him inside the village proper; the sound of thundering hooves as teams of oxen hauled lumber laden carts through the streets east of where he stood, the scent of fresh pitch bubbling in metal vats, the cacophony of hammers and axes and the sight of workmen scurrying about, led him to believe what he was witnessing was no ordinary infrastructure upgrade.
It's almost as if the village is in the process of a complete rebuild.
A heightened sense of urgency, like a hostile shadow stood beside every shinobi he met, his questions deflected or blatantly ignored - comrades he’d known and worked with for years, tossed skeptical glances his way as he moved deeper inside the village. The civilians were equally affected; a pronounced sense of caution eclipsed their smiles and even the marketplace teeming with people seemed oddly quiet.
What the hell is going on around here?
Paranoia crawled up his back, whispering in his ear as his thoughts automatically turned to the whereabouts and safety of his team. Last he’d heard they were at the Fire Temple, but that was weeks ago.   He took to the rooftops, hastening toward the Hokage Tower.
I have to believe Tenzou will do or has done everything in his power to keep them safe.
IGO     IGO     IGO     IGO     IGO
The mission room at the top of the stairs and to his left stood silent; he sensed only two chakra signatures inside the massive space.  A quick peek inside revealed the august Umino Iruka seated at his desk, a genin runner standing beside him.
Perfect! Nobody gave me a straight answer about what’s going on but I know he will.
Never once was there an indication Iruka heard him enter the room even when he let the door slam behind him.
That's weird …he usually lifts his eyes or raises his hand in greeting, no matter how busy he is.
To the lectern he strode where the massive brown ledger lay open - a moment spent scrawling his name and tense seconds wasted flipping through previous pages of the ‘Available for Duty’ roster netted nothing.   Normally whenever shinobi lingered here or dared nose around inside the ledger, it would have garnered a not so polite clearing of the throat from Iruka. Hell, even the runner was ignoring him.
Oh yeah, he thought. Something is terribly wrong.
For a while, only the uninterrupted scratch of a ballpoint pen, punctuated by the occasional frustrated crumples of paper were the only sounds in the room. “Alright, this get this to the front gate as quickly as you can,” he heard him say.
When the door slammed behind the runner Kakashi saw his chance. “Surprised you’re here all by your lonesome, Iruka-sensei.” he said, his attention seemingly still on the ledger. “Shouldn’t you be in class this time of day?”
Another page turned on Iruka’s side of the room. “Hmm? Oh …umm, welcome back, Kakashi-san. For the record, today is Saturday; I have no class … and yes, I do realize what I just said.”
The roster abandoned for the moment, Kakashi sauntered over to where the chunnin sat. He leaned his hip against the desk and made himself comfy; normally, that too would have elicited a growl, but nary a word was spoken.
“Saturday … of course,” Kakashi said, “that explains why it’s so quiet in here.”
Iruka promptly went back to ignoring him.
“Please tone down your enthusiasm over my safe return. Mind telling me what’s going on around here?”
The pen in Iruka’s hand faintly shook. “Akatsuki,” he snarled.   “Patrols spotted two of ‘em near our western border three weeks ago.”
That explains the increased forest patrols, gate guards and the multitude of checkpoints, he idly thought while rearranging the pens and pencils in the cup nearest his hip. As Iruka furiously scribbled, Kakashi lifted his headband for a second to get a better look at the chunnin. His chakra’s disturbed - worried about Naruto no doubt … makes sense.
Iruka kept his head down, angrily transcribing notes from one folder to another, though when he spoke again, his voice was calm and even.
“The ANBU is backing up shinobi assigned to security details; everybody else is stockpiling items for the evacuation centers, or helping repair the damages after the village was attacked by--”
“Akatsuki attacked us? When did this--?”
“Not them … another group of mercenaries … wanted to eliminate the Hokage … institute the Daimyo as supreme leader of the Land of Fire or some such nonsense.” Another half-finished form crumpled under Iruka’s fingers and bounced off the rim of the trash can beside his desk. “Turned a legion of zombies on us … damn near burned the village to the ground.”
“Undead armies … the Akatsuki… why is it nothing exciting happens until I leave the village?” Holding up an unfinished paper clip chain for Iruka’s inspection, he went on to say, “Don't tell me, Tsunade kept you at your desk during all the fun didn't she … that’s why you’re such a sourpuss right now, isn’t it?”
“She didn’t… I was assigned to a security team during the attack. Only reason I’m here today is because I volunteered,” he said, sliding the pen cup away from the obviously bored jounin. “The job of coordinating the hospital’s logistical concerns fell to Shizune so she’s crazy busy getting sites for remote triage stations sorted out and supervising emergency drills with the medics and, oh, for heaven’s sake,” he said, snatching away the lengthy paper clip chain woven by nervous hands. “Do you mind?”
“Well I wasn’t finished with it… but go on,” came the impish reply from the grinning masked man.
“I’m one of the few chunnin available with a . . . give me that please,” he said reaching for the hand stamp Kakashi was currently toying with. “I’m authorized to receive and secure classified mission reports … like the one you should have with you,” he said extending his hand.
Kakashi grinned, staring down into the outstretched palm near his elbow. Having arranged the writing implements and paperclips Iruka hadn't snatched away into bawdy stick figures, he smiled saying, “You know … next to my favorite novels, nothing gives me as much pleasure as watching you clench your jaw -- like you're doing right now.”
Iruka gave him the side eye while he relaxed his jaw. “Your report, Kakashi-san … please.”
“I’d almost forgotten how much I like it when you spit and hiss at me.” Capturing the tips of Iruka’s fingers, he said, “Let’s not be so hasty, Umino-san.”
Unfazed, Iruka slid his fingers from the crushing grip. “As usual, Kakashi-san, I'm appalled and puzzled by the things you find entertaining …I have no time for your games --”
"Don’t sell yourself short, you know I don't amuse myself with just anyone, Iruka,” he said standing to his feet. “You should be honored. Seriously though, I need to deliver this information to the Hokage --"
“Fine, just hand over your report and--”
“Sorry, I must insist on debriefing Lady Tsunade face-to-face. As for this written report,” he told him, patting one of the pockets of his flak vest, “it’s intended for her eyes only.”
Iruka reached for another folder. “Lots of luck tracking her down. Ever since this mess with the Akatsuki started, her days are consumed in meetings with Ibiki, the Council and running back and forth to the hospital. When she isn’t doing that,” he frowned, briskly filling out another blank form, “she shuts herself off somewhere to read through the stacks of hourly dispatches from neighboring villages.”
Kakashi bent down, slowly reaching out both of his hands to cover the file before Iruka. “I’m willing to bet you know exactly where I can find her. After all, you have access to highly classified information like that. Or should I assume you’d like me to hang around and keep you company until she pops back into her office?”
"Give me a break,” he said, slowly prying those slender fingers from away from the folder. “Of course, I know where she is, but like me, she’s trying to get some work done. Might I suggest you stop by the bathhouse first as the Hokage should be back in her office in about ninety minutes … come back then.”
“I have a better idea,” he said, ratcheting the pen from Iruka’s hand. “You tell me where I can find the Hokage right now and I’ll let you get back to your ‘happy place,’ you know, the stamping and sorting of papers.”
Iruka reached for another pen.
“Not only will you get me out of your hair, I might even consider erasing the lewd sketch that I left of you in the duty roster over there.”
Iruka’s eyes followed the gloved hand that had crept back onto the folder, up the mud-spattered sleeve, to the face partially concealed by a spotless blue mask and then beyond, to the clock over the front door.
“Try the hospital, third floor nurse’s station,” he said, removing Kakashi’s hand and straightening the edges of the crumpled pages. “It’s time for rounds … she and the head nurses are probably sitting around a fresh pot of coffee, going over patient status reports.”
Feigning disappointment, Kakashi rose slowly. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? My goodness, Iruka-sensei, whatever happened to prompt, courteous customer service?”
“The demise of prompt, courteous customers,” was the snide remark Iruka directed toward his now disarrayed desk. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
Kakashi was halfway to the exit, chuckling to himself when Iruka called out:
“One more thing, Kakashi-san.”
He turned to see the chunnin snappishly reordering his workspace.
“Should you accidently ‘forget’ to erase that drawing, please know that I will hunt you down and curb stomp you."
“Such violent words, Iruka-sensei … always knew you were a man after my own heart. Although, you really should brush up on your flirting skills.”
He ducked in time to avoid the flying cup, yet couldn’t escape the shards of ceramic and shower of pens that rained down just to the right of where he stood seconds earlier.
That’s more like it, he thought as he slammed the door behind him.
NOTES:
Tyro: a beginner in learning anything; a novice.
Boscage: a mass of trees or shrubs; a wood, grove or thicket.
Chary: cautious or careful; wary.
August: venerable, eminent.
Pedantic: overly concerned with minute details or formalisms.
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At The Intersection of Gauche and Obtuse