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Recherche	By : Eggburtshamslice Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Kakashi/Iruka Views: 4188 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto nor do I make any profit from this work of fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 23
- 24
- 25
Through every open window gushes the noise of too many men, with too little on their minds and too much time on their hands; their raucous laughter spews forth like a broken sewer main. This, she thinks, is a good thing. When the last two stanzas of a vulgar limerick tickled at her ears, she couldn’t hold back the half smile if she tried. Up the stone stairs, the click of her heels is silenced by the thundering smack of heavy boots running down the stairs; she slips unnoticed into the entryway. Standing upon the threshold, breathing in their merriment, her shoulder brushes against the doorframe when she neatly tucks her arms beneath her bosom. Could have stayed like this for hours, had it not been for the eagle-eyed captain who spotted her.
“This room will come to order,” he yelled. “ATTEN - SHUN!”
To a man, all activity ceases; papers skip off the edges of desks, a pair of dice clumsily clattered against the far wall and a playing card floats on the breeze as the chair a man once sat in crashes to the floor.
“Mornin’ ma’am,” Ryota said, scarcely lifting his eyes from the reports spread before him. “Inspector’s in his office.”
Now is the soft click of kitten heels almost deafening as she walks past the watch commander’s desk with a nod; wending through a crooked blue line of uniforms and faces knocked for six, she accepts the respectful gaze of the men under her ultimate command. At the mouth of the hallway leading to the Inspector’s office, Ryota’s stern voice momentarily breaks her stride.
“Alright, show’s over … find something to do with yourselves.”
Standing outside his office, she took a breath and smoothed down her hair. Reaching for the doorknob, there was slight resistance before it opened of its own accord to reveal a pleasantly surprised Ibiki.
“I was just on my way to your office,” he said, angling his body to the left. She pushed past him with a smile. “Since you’re here, let me see if I can rustle up some tea for--”
“Heavens no… Shizune brewed up a cup of something she claimed was tea before I left; practically had to cut that stuff with a knife and fork. Thanks to her, I’ll be awake for days.”
Before he could close the door and cross the room, she was already making herself comfortable in the chair that sat in front of his desk. “You’ll never guess who paid me a visit this morning.”
“Let’s see. We weren’t dispatched to break up a fight, so I'm guessing it wasn’t Lords Danzou and Orochimaru--”
“Don’t be silly,” she told him fanning herself with the little card. “I received a personal invite to the Hatake gala. I do hope you’ve something suitable to wear. Wouldn't do for the Governor to show up dressed to the nines on the arm of a bedraggled looking escort.”
“I was thinking of showing up in my regular attire, now I’ll hafta send a dress uniform to the washerwomen.” He plopped down in his seat with a smile, pointing to an identical card laying in the middle of his desk. “Got my own invite.”
“You … willing to attend a party? Okay,” she looked around the room and whispered, “blink once if someone is hiding in the cupboard to club you over the head ... twice if you’re being blackmailed--”
“I’m not that much of an anti-social mope, am I?”
Along with a tight smile as she leaned back, she gave him a look that said, ‘Yeah, you are.’
“Fine, you got me … formal affairs make me break out in hives; normally hafta drag me by the ear, kickin’ and cussin’ to one of these things--”
“So, what happened this time? Wait a minute … Morino Ibiki, are you blushing? That’s rich. I can see it now, the steely Chief Inspector and his dainty, high bred dame, skipping carefree through the meadow lands.”
Ibiki regarded her with a grin. “My face is flushed because you’re turning my stomach. Now, if you’re quite finished, the only reason I’m going is because this party thing is a matter of police business.”
“Naturally. How silly of me; you’re already married to your job.”
Ibiki ignored the jab. “I sent a note with Hatake’s man this morning," he said settling back into his chair and making a bridge of his fingers. "Kinda need his permission to post uniformed men around the estate--”
“Can you beat that? The rumor mill was right for a change. I’d heard government officials from all Four Nations were expected to attend, but don’t those men usually travel with a security detail of their own?”
Again he ignored the question in favor of picking at a callous on his index finger.
“I know you Ibiki ... by this time you would’ve already assigned teams and trained them within an inch of their lives. Why would you wait and ask permission so late in the game?”
The line of his jaw tightened when he reached for the invitation. “Protecting the citizens of Konoha ... always been my top priority--”
“You’re full of it! You think Umino is going to sneak in there and try to harm Hatake, don’t you?”
“Umino is psychotic,” he said, running his fingers over the invitation. “He’s a pathological liar too--”
“No he isn’t. All he needs is somebody willing to hear him out, someone who can listen to his cockamamie stories objectively.” Folding exasperated hands in her lap, she lowered her voice. “Look, I’ve been meeting with him for some time now … he’s coming around to thinking as any reasonable man should--”
“All that proves is he’s a good actor.”
The possibility Iruka suckered her into a web of lies made her brow crinkle. Shaking her head, she insists, “He’s a hairsbreadth away from sitting down with me and Lord Hatake; he honestly wants to work through the misunderstandings between--”
“That’s a waste of your time and his breath most assuredly. Umino suffers from delusions … don’t you see that ma’am?”
“What I see is a man trying to find answers. Hell,” she snapped throwing up her hands, “he and his friends have even been getting spiritual counsel from the monks, what more proof do you need that he’s--?”
“Yeah,” Ibiki leaned forward to say, “I know all about your secret meetings and their trips to the temple. It’s a smokescreen. Umino’s anger is too old … it runs too deep, and it chaps my ass that he’s been taking advantage of a soft-hearted woman. “Actions,” his fist slammed to the desk, Lady Tsunade, they tell the true tale of a man. Those three sat in your office and made a long, loud pronouncement about wanting to kill somebody in the presence of the Governor and her top law enforcement official no less. Then they skulked off into the woods under the cover of night, like scoundrels.”
“You’ve got men watching them day and night, it’s not as if you don’t know where they are. Have they done anything suspicious?”
“Not yet, but they’ve been out there plotting god knows what. I’m telling you ma’am ... this party is the perfect opportunity to--”
“Oh for god’s sake Ibiki,” she said scooting toward the edge of her chair, “your eyes are glazing over and you’re practically salivating.   If you ask me, you’re the one looking and sounding like a crazy man!”
His eyes fell on the invitation, it’s glowing characters giving him strength to speak as he looked up into her eyes. “I don’t care what you say. I’m going to do everything in my power to ship that lunatic and his crackpot friends back to Looneyville--”
“Even if that means bending the law?”
“I’ll bend it to the point of snapping it in half if need be. Whatever its gonna take to get him out of the territory, I’ll do gladly.”
Confused and angry, Tsunade slowly rises, her fingers flying for comfort to the netsuke. “Yes,” she said after a beat, “maybe you are right. Whatever it takes.”
Recherché
“The air inside this home was contaminated this morning … made putrid by the stench of a servant from the Hatake household,” he told those assembled in the study. “From henceforth, let this be understood. I’ll have the head of any member of the Uchiha who dares fraternize or even lifts their eyes toward anyone who bears the name Hatake.”
“Why Father?” asked the slight young woman seated by the window.
“How quickly you’ve forgotten our history with the loathsome scions of that house, my child.” With his hands clasped behind his back, he paced along the runner opposite his large family. “Vermin, that’s what they are. Smooth talking thieves!” The veins bulged from his temples as he faced their horrified stares. “Scum … they attempted dishonor upon our name by stealing the virtue of one of our women already promised in marriage. They humbled her,” his lip curled into a sneer as he bit off the words, “polluted the purity of our bloodline, planting their filthy seed in a virgin womb. Forced us to put to death one of our own. We had none other choice … a mother and innocent babe, their lives taken to cleanse ourselves. We would not stand by in silence as the wheels of supposed justice slowly turned. Two brothers of that despicable family dulled the edges of our blades--”
“Please Father, I beg you … speak no more. It was almost two hundred years ago when this took place,” she said above the audible gasps and whispers of her kin. “See now what their folly has wrought? Their family has dwindled down to a sole survivor, while ours continues to flourish. What political advantages might have been achieved through marriage are now ours by divine right--”
“Ah, my nebbish elder daughter, just returned from receiving an education abroad,” Fugaku smiled sweetly as he walked toward her. “Come to me, Suté,” he said with outstretched arms. She was less than five steps away from his embrace when he drew his arm across his body and delivered a backhanded slap. His eyes lit up with glee as she staggered into the waiting arms of a sibling. “Spawn of a wife detested, let that serve as a history lesson for a foolish girl and as a reminder to us all. No matter how we wish it so … the passage of time can never blunt fine honed hatred.” Smoothing a hand through stick straight hair of ebony, he composed himself and continued, “You’d do well to learn from the brother who cradles you. Itachi, my son of a wife beloved, he dealt with this agent of iniquity correctly. I watched him hold a knife to the throat of that man’s servant and I heard the servant flee in fear of his life. Violence … it’s the only language the Hatake speak and comprehend. Now, tell us my son, what did Hatake want?”
“He invited me to the upcoming soiree. I summarily refused.”
Fugaku drew himself up proudly, cutting his eyes at the young man. “The hell is wrong with your face? Have that seen to immediately … it’s unsightly.”
Itachi cast his eyes to the crown of his sniffling sister’s head; patting her back gently he whispered, “As you wish … Father.”
Recherché
Having done the master's bidding, he heads northwest, along the twisting paths, through the brambles which hope to ensnare him, toward a dilapidated shack leaning against an ancient sugi tree. A withered old man dressed in ragged brown robes lifts his cane in greeting as Maito approached.
“Knew you’d come,” he grinned. “The animals told me. They sense your presence better than I can these days … frightens them it does.”
“My Master seeks a report. What news shall I take back to him?”
“Come,” the old man beckoned, “I’ve prepared a special treat--”
“My Lord charged me to take nothing away from this place save your words--”
“Very well, but you must come inside … the trees have ears.”
Maito closely followed behind him, up the weather-beaten stairs, carefully turning his body sideways to navigate broad, moss covered steps which lead downward into the surprisingly vast belly of the hovel where the shaman dwelt. Sunlight blinds him as it beams through cracks in the lean-to shed walls, though it didn’t prevent him from seeing the moderately sized chemist’s workshop, a fully functional kitchen and the facilities for bathing as he descends the stairs. He perches on a smooth tree stump situated before a massive table hewn from stone.
“Before I speak,” the old man husked, “one favor I ask, that mine eyes might behold your beauty.”
It was always this way; the price for information, the shaman desiring to bask in the powerful aura of his beastly form. Maito shook himself, enjoying the freedom which came by throwing off the prison of his human flesh. How good it felt when sharp incisors slickly punctured through his gums, when his hands became paws and when the growls from his lips were interpreted as words without having to formulate a language foreign in his own ears.
“Ah … you look exactly like your father. How I miss him.”
The beast gestured for the old man to take a seat across the table from him.
“Been almost a century since it happened last,” the shaman began. “The entrails prophesied its certain return.” From a fold in his garment, came a tattered celestial scroll. Smoothing it over with his hand, milky eyes search for a particular image. “There … three nights from now … the dispersed light from all the earth’s sunrises and sunsets will fall across the face of the moon, bathing it in the color of blood. You understand what this means, don’t you?”
Maito nodded.
“The power of your master will increase tenfold each night as it draws near. Each night this month, the spirits of the Hatake have torn me from my rest … they call to me.   Inside ossuary chests of ivory, the bones of the Hatake quake and rattle, crying out to their only living descendant for swift redress. I beg of you Maito … prevent him from veering off the path, for with great power, there is great vulnerability. There is one who lurks in the thickets, a snake, seeking to attenuate the wolf--”
“Though it may bruise the great silver wolf’s paw, the head of the snake will be crushed under foot.”
“The entrails also shew forth something most fearful. Glowing stones, hidden in hollowed trees, snares ripe to spring, bound and shining in the brooks … stumbling blocks--”
“These snares … you will direct me to them--”
“No my son … I cannot. They represent profound harm to beings such as yourself and the Master. But a mortal I will surely guide.”
“Then shall I dispatch one to destroy them.” Maito abruptly stood, his human form and clothing reappearing as he walked toward the hovel’s stairs. Catching hold of a bloody burlap sack, he flung it over his shoulder.   “Your fee squirms.”
Out into the sunlight, once more he heads deeper into the woods to collect other of the Master’s invited guests.
Recherché
The smell of his pipe tobacco walked in before he did. “Top of the morning to ya Ryota.”
“You’re obnoxiously chipper Genma … that can only mean you gotta houseful of the dearly departed--”
“Nah, dead around my place … get it?”
“I’m doubled over with laughter on the inside. State your business please.”
“Well, just got in a shipment from England; fresh off the boat … latest medical journals and other science stuff, you wouldn’t understand.”
“Alright, now that you’ve insulted my intelligence, what else can I do for ya?”
Genma rubbed at his neck when he leaned down. “Might need a little help with this stuff.”
“Longshoremen open crates, constables do not. So, unless your shipment contains the report Ibiki’s been looking for, feel free to move along.”
“Sure thing. That slicked up lieutenant, you know … mounted patrolman, brown hair, big smile … he workin’ today?”
Ryota scooted his chair back to flip through the duty roster behind his desk. “He should be coming in from patrol shortly. You need him why?”
“My parcel from London is filled with twenty bottles of brand new embalming compounds; ordered ‘em over a month ago” he grinned. “Damned if they didn't print the instructions in English.”
“Yes, damn them.   I’ll send the lieutenant round after he checks in. Oh, and Genma, I’m warning you. Wait until he arrives before you go mucking about with those things. That’s all I need today, some impatient jackass blowing up something.”
“Heh, you only make that mistake once, am I right? Shame though … aint got nary a body to test the effectiveness of--”
“Don’t look at me when you say that undertaker--”
“Oh … heya Inspector!”
“Coroner Shiranui, I’ve no time for idle chitchat,” he snapped.
Oblivious to Ibiki’s temperament, Genma proceeded to blather on. “Just tellin’ Ryota about a package from England. Make my job a lot easier providing I figure out how to use the stuff. You’re lookin’ a little peaked Inspector; eating well, getting enough rest? You should be, I mean, been awful quiet round here lately, envoys behaving themselves, no drunken brawls, no violent crimes--”
“It's almost been too quiet … makes me very nervous.” Suddenly Ibiki was standing inches from the stunned Coroner. Looking down at him, Ibiki whispered, “I promise, you won’t like me very much when I get nervous, Genma.”
“Yeah … um, right,” he said taking a step backward, “gotcha. Think I’ll just uh, wait in my shop for your man--”
“Good idea. Ryota … a word,” Ibiki said as he turned away from them. “Now, damn it!”
He rounded the corner of his desk quickly, pushing the stunned mortician toward the door, but by then, the Inspector was halfway across the room. He had to assume a light jog to catch up with his boss. “Whoa … slow down, will ya?"   Ibiki stepped to the side as the other man wheezed. “Not as young as I used to be ... what’s your hurry?”
“Two things. I’m heading to the magistrate’s office now and then ... to Hatake manor. While I’m gone, you’re going to assemble three teams of ten men each. Ten from mounted patrol and ten from foot patrol. Aoba and Raidou will lead a team of eight.”
“What’s the job, when do they report and to whom?”
“Twenty will monitor the grounds of Hatake’s estate, the others will work undercover inside the house on the night of the soiree. Have them report to me here, at four o’clock this afternoon.”
“Alrighty, anything else they should know?”
“You’ll provide the teams with descriptions of Umino and his friends. I want those three arrested on sight. Should they be stupid enough to resist, I’m authorizing the use of force.”
“What we gonna charge ‘em with?”
“That’s what me and the magistrate are gonna figure out.”
Cold, dead eyes bored into his when he gripped Ibiki by wrist. “You serious? Those young men haven’t done anything to merit arrest--”
“Hands off Watch Commander Takenaka! If you think it too much trouble to execute a direct order, I’ll hafta find somebody else for your position!”
Ryota and those assembled, stood dumbfounded as Ibiki stormed toward his office; not long after, the station house cleared out in the snap of two fingers. Still, Ryota stood in place, betrayed and bewildered when the Inspector brushed past him the second time. Only when the door to the constabulary slammed closed did he come to his senses. And as he walked back to his desk, he thought,
This is the Governor’s dirty work ... it's the only reasonable explanation. Why would she make him do something like this?
Recherché
As the morning sun climbed higher, there came the rap of a cane against the front door of Kokucho manor. “Greetings, lord Danzou; my master is expecting you. He’s in the conservatory … shall I accompany you, sir?”
"Won't be necessary, Kabuto. I know the way."
Danzou took his time as thoughts of betrayal and grievances long past, flooded his mind with each step as he drew closer to music room. This corridor ... it's like an oven. Must be coming down with something. Yes, that's it ... a fever. I'll ask after some ginger tea once I get there.
The strains of a violin, its chords melancholy wrap around his body as he played. Halted mid tune, Orochimaru stills the bow, laying the instrument down upon its resting place, he walked toward the bay windows overlooking the garden. For the better part of twenty years have I known him, yet this very morning, he is as a stranger to me. Each time his cane strikes the floor anger seethes in my bones. What hell is this? “Impressively late for our weekly game of Shogi, lord Danzou,” he said turning at the sound of the door opening. “Savor these moments while you can, for today is your defeat certain.”
“Hah! Chance of that would be a fine thing. Nevertheless, you’ll find I am as always, a gracious victor. Why, I’ve already decided to let you tag along with me to the most ostentatious social event of the season.”
“Did you now?” Orochimaru said as he strode over the gaming table. “Your generosity knows no bounds, yet,” he picked up the card Kinoe delivered, “I won’t need your charity in this instance either.”
“You’ve received an invitation as well. Splendid. I was just thinking … this gathering may prove itself worth our time. It behooves us to strike an alliance with Hatake and those from the Four Nations; we stand to make an extortionate amount of money from them and the West.”
“Careful lord Danzou, greed is rearing its ugly head; always admired that about you,” he laughed as his friend sat opposite him. “Our interests in the silk and wool trade alone will certainly allow one of us to buy our way into the seat of power over the territory. And if we can force that Senju woman to levy higher taxes on Konoha’s exported goods, we will have more money than the gods--”
“Did I hear you correctly? I thought you said, ‘allow one of us to buy our way into the seat of power’; whom did you mean?”
“Why should such a thing matter between two old friends? That Senju woman will have to nominate one of us as her successor at some point, the other will serve as his executive consultant. Either way, we win.”
“Yes … how I do enjoy winning.” But before I let you assume a position meant for me, he thought, your blood, and that of your prissy little manservant, will drip from my sword and taint the earth.
“Tea?”
“Please … it smells enchanting.”
“A new blend … Kabuto insisted on ordering from London. Now, then the board is set. I’ll even let you move first this time.” With a crooked smile did Orochimaru watch the other man drag his pawn one space. ‘Executive consultant’, yes, comfort yourself into the grave with that idea, he thought. As if I’d ever bow my knee to you. I’ll have your head stuffed and mounted above my desk as a warning to any who’d dare cross the new head of the territory. “To victory,” he said raising his cup and saluting his soon to be deceased friend.
“Yes,” said Danzou, “here’s to us and a long, profitable future.”
Recherché
“Iruka … what are you doing?”
“Taking notes … what it’s look like I’m doing?”
“Hmm,” he mumbled holding back a laugh, “you seem a little … distracted.”
“Far as I can tell, you’re the only distraction in the room.”
"You know, Tetsu isn’t going to stay angry with you forever … he’ll be back.”
“I know Zumo.”
“Not distracted, huh?” He reached over and rattled the pen against Iruka’s tea cup. “You’ve been trying to write with your spoon for the last few minutes--"
“Damn it,” he muttered fishing his pen from the cup, “that’s the second one this week.” Pushing the books aside, Iruka stretched his arms above his head letting them collapse at his sides. “Been thinking about this the past few days … Father’s notes. What if can’t kill Hatake … would that be such a bad thing?”
“I’m thinking the answer to that is … yes?”
“All this time, my focus was on avenging Father’s death and now … I don’t know how I feel.”
“This is your first attempted murder after all … hesitancy is to be expected--”
“Don’t do that, I’m serious.” He leaned forward, elbows on the table, entwined fingers supporting his chin. “What if everything I thought I knew is wrong? I mean, what if the ramblings of a deranged mind lead me to kill an innocent man?”
“Innocent? Hatake? The hell Iruka? You were standing right there the night Sakumo died, the same night that creature jumped through the study window. You saw it!”
“I know I did, but … it’s just--”
“The idea of killing someone or something, doesn’t sit right with you. Trust me, I understand. I’m not comfortable with it either, so I try not to dwell on it. Still, we both know if we don’t do it, that thing is going to keep on killing--”
“Zumo," he whispered cradling his head in his hands. “I’m … afraid. Keep having nightmares about facing Hatake and not being able to do him in. What if it’s true … what if I really can’t?”
“And what if a frog had wings, he wouldn’t bump his butt when he jumps, would he? But the frog has learned not to bump his butt.”
“What?”
Izumo patted him on the shoulder, “For a minute, don’t listen to me as a relative or even as a friend; listen to me as a doctor. You haven’t slept well since we got here, that affects your ability to think clearly. You refuse to eat properly and you haven’t been maintaining an adequate fluid level per day; even moderate dehydration, slows judgment, makes you second guess yourself or fret about things that haven’t happened. We’ve been going through all this stuff, meeting with the monks, gathering information and you've been trying to keep your stories straight. You’ve got eleventy million things weighing on your shoulders, that makes you anxious and ill tempered.”
“You trying to say I’m a basket case?”
“I’m sayin’ if you if you maintain this pace, you will be. So, here’s what we’re gonna do. First, box up these notes and get them out of our sight … just for today. We’re gonna get out of this cabin, take a little exercise and get some sun. I’ll gather some herbs for a sleeping draught while we’re out in the woods and tonight you’re going to eat well even if I that means I hafta cram the food down your throat. Later, after dinner and a few glasses of wine, you’re gonna take a warm bath and get a good night’s sleep. Sound like a plan?”
Iruka pushed away from the table clapping Izumo on the shoulder when he stood. “Some friend you are. How long were you going to sit there laughing at me while I tried to take notes with a teaspoon?”
“I'm a wonderful friend, thank you and you have to admit ... it was pretty funny."
"Now I'm your laughingstock … wonderful."
"Be grateful, buddy; I haven’t prepared the bill for my services yet. And while you're shopping at the indebted store, thank your lucky stars I’m not as devious as you; if I ever told Tetsu about this … you’d never live it down.”
Notes:
Psychotic: a person who has lost touch with reality.
Nebbish: a pitifully ineffectual, luckless and timid person.
Attenuate: to lessen the force or magnitude of.
Suté: “forsaken foundling.” This name remained common until the end of the 19th century. It was granted via an old custom. If a family had several children die in succession shortly after birth, the next child born (a girl, preferably) had to be exposed. The babe was carried by a servant to a lonely place in the fields and left there. Then a peasant, or other person, hired for the occasion appears and pretends to find the babe; the hired person carries the babe back to the parental home. It was desirable that the one who ‘finds’ the babe be no kin to the family. The child is then received and named "Suté." It was supposed that this method of recovery would thwart the unseen influences which caused the deaths of the other children.
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