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Another Perfect Wonder	By : jaded_priceless Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Kakashi/Iruka Views: 10014 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I make no profit from this work of fiction. Full disclaimer inside

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Iruka remained in the safe house a full day to regain his energy and formulate the best plan to infiltrate the Snow and Lighting border. His mother was born in the Lightning country and was one of their best kunoichi before abandoning her country for the Mist nin who would later become Iruka’s father so he was more familiar with the territory and its people than any Konoha shinobi had the right to be.

It was only after leaving the village as a chuunin and passing landmarks that he realized most of his childhood dreams were genjutsu cast by his parents. They were determined to show him their native countries and all their hiding places in between. He was trying to figure out a way to teach seals to his clueless and unmotivated students when he realized that the silly songs about the Chinese zodiac and accompanying finger movements his parents taught him were actually jutsu and seals when he removed the unrelated lyrics and movements.

Iruka smiled and sang the one song his parents always used when he was upset or in trouble before stripping down the lyrics and summoning their personal belongings. He chose his items carefully before dismissing the summons and beginning his journey.

Iruka received curious glances when he plodded into the village where Kakashi should have been based. He had traded his practically new uniform pants for an older and more worn pair whose pockets were secured with safety pins and chipped buttons instead of the more efficient closings used by shinobi.

His open toed sandals had been replaced by a closed in pair of boots that were strapped to snowshoes by sisal fibers. The standard issue turtleneck was folded up to cover the lower half of his face and mostly hidden beneath a faded oversized parka that was a cross between the one Kiba once wore and those worn by the samurai of the Iron Country.

He’d left his chuunin vest and standards weapons at the safe house; a scroll to summon them was hidden inside a pocket sewn into his underwear. His backpack had been turned inside out leaving only the smooth fur inner lining visible.

After a thirteen hour walk through the snow without using chakra, he was tired and physically worn out. Food and lodging were his immediate concerns, so, paying no attention to the shinobi who had been following him for the better part of an hour, he turned down a side street that appeared to lead to a poorer section of town.

Iruka slowly shook the snow from his coat, untied his snowshoes and stomped his feet to remove the grime stuck between the heavily soiled boots then entered a seedy restaurant. He looked around, returning the wary glances of the establishment’s other patrons, before taking a seat at the end of the counter. It didn’t take long for a middle-aged waitress to appear and place a steaming mug before him.

“Hot tea. The first cup is always on the house for anyone traveling in this sort of weather,” the woman explained. “I can bring you a menu, but I recommend the beef donburi. It’s hot and filling and quite frankly you look like you’ve had a hard journey and could use the nutrition.”

“I…um…” Iruka blushed wildly, surprised at the woman’s honest assessment before stammering, “How much is it in inter-village currency?”

“Seven for a small bowl, ten-fifty for a large bowl, both with unlimited refills on tea,” she stated matter-of-factly.

Iruka nodded slowly before reaching into his pocket and removing his wallet. “Excuse me, but where can I find safe lodging for the night and will it be expensive?”

Iruka allowed himself to fidget under the woman’s intense stare. Her steel grey eyes softened for a moment before she asked bluntly, “This is your first time out on your own, isn’t it? What’s a nice kid like you doing so far away from his mama?”

“My presence was putting my family in danger,” Iruka answered softly before chewing on his lower lip, the blush going all the way up to his ears.

“You?” The woman snorted, the action doing nothing to improve her shrewish features and earning her a glare from Iruka. “What kind of place is there in this world where a boy like you causes that sort of problem?”

“Don’t be offended. You look like a good kid – well, nice young man. I haven’t been in business for thirty-five years without being a good judge of character. You seem like the type who would apologize to a rabbit for killing it after you let it eat half of your crops. I can tell by looking at those shoulders you’re used to working hard. Anyone who isn’t responsible would be on their second bowl of hot food and drink without giving a thought to where they would spend the night. Many people would like to keep nice young men like you around. That’s all I’m saying. So,” the woman smiled, “why’s a nice kid who’s obviously concerned about his family roaming around the border days before a snowstorm?”

Iruka took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, allowing his fist to clench and unclench with the movement. He’d stick with the standard story. One common enough to be believed, but personal enough no one would ask too many questions and would understand if he were evasive about the details and his full name. “One of the councilmen in our village didn’t think I was good enough for his child. It was leave or else.”

The woman nodded slowly simultaneously motioning to the shinobi who had seated themselves at the table behind Iruka and to a younger waitress. “Bring him a large bowl of donburi and refill his tea.”

“Ma’am, I can’t,” Iruka stammered, wide-eyed.

“Heartbreak special, kid. This one is on me,” the woman said, identifying herself as the owner and wistfully fingering a small gold ring on her necklace before hardening her features and proclaiming, “Romance is for orphans. Love doesn’t exist for those with families.”

Iruka nodded in agreement and lowered his head to gaze at his nearly empty mug of tea, allowing himself to remember what it felt like to be rejected by his former lover’s family. It didn’t take long for his meal to arrive, and when it did, Iruka ate silently. The owner was right; the food was delicious and filling, the perfect meal after such a grueling journey. Now all he needed to do was find a place to sleep.

“Ma’am, are there any rooms in this village less than 40ivc a night?” Iruka asked.

“Not where a decent person would want to stay.” The woman laughed. “The only places that cheap come with occupants of the six legged variety.”

“Or have next door neighbors of the gap-legged variety,” a one-eared shinobi who had moved to counter chimed naughtily.

“Yeah, but most of those gap-legs have six legs crawling between them,” a dark skinned blond shinobi added. “The only other places for that price are the hunting lodges, but no one would be stupid enough to stay in those drafty things in the winter.”

“How much are they?” Iruka asked eagerly. “I’ll only be here one or two nights at the most and then I’m continuing on my journey.”

“Where you headed?” a voice asked casually.

“Giha Village,” Iruka said, removing a fifty year old map and a childhood picture of his mother and great-grandmother. “My mother told me stories of spending her summers in the place where her grandmother found happiness. I hope it will do the same for me.”

“Why are you in such a hurry? There’s a snow storm predicted for this area. Why don’t you at least stay for a few weeks and give it time to pass over?” one of the Snow shinobi, a blond who appeared to be seventeen or eighteen that the others addressed as Shinsuke, suggested.

“That is a good idea,” the restaurant owner, whom Iruka learned was referred to as Mama-san, agreed. “It’s too dangerous to travel in this type of weather, especially using a map that old. The general store will be open tomorrow. Why don’t you purchase a new one? I’m sure the landmarks have changed by now.”

Iruka smirked internally at how the shinobi in this village were reluctant to tell him what he already knew. The village of Giha was destroyed over twenty years ago in the Second Shinobi War. Pictures were all that remained of the town which housed the textile store ran by his fifty-six year old semi-retired kunoichi great-grandmother and the sixty year old merchant she married after an escort mission. Giha was the only village equally distant from her grandchildren in the Village Hidden in the Clouds and his grandchildren in the civilian capital of Lightning.

Iruka’s delight was short lived when one of the Snow ninja offered to escort him to his lodgings if “Mama-san was willing to let such a kind, innocent boy stay in such a drafty cold place”. Iruka caught the hint of suspicion in the man’s voice and the familiarity with which the woman rolled her eyes and declared if she catered to his suspicious nature she, along with everyone else in the area, would quickly go out of business. Border towns simply did not survive by locking themselves away and turning away travelers.

Three bowls of donburi and two cups of tea later a nervous Iruka was escorted through the town and into the forest. Shinsuke was telling Iruka about the local wildlife while his female teammate, a younger teen named Arisa, was asking the tan man about his journey to their village.

The hunting lodges were in sight when the cell leader Manzô, a man with sharp beady green eyes who appeared to be in his late thirties, surprised both his subordinates by pulling a kunai from his pouch and advancing on the Konoha chuunin. Iruka hastily grabbed the girl’s arm and threw her into her teammate, sending both of them falling to the ground, before running towards the village as fast as his tired legs could carry him. He scarcely made it thirty feet before the three Snow ninjas surrounded him.

“Get away from me, you damned ninja!” Iruka screamed, picking up a snow covered stick to use as a weapon. “Stay back!” Iruka waved the stick at his would-be assailants as he slowly backed himself to the base of a large oak.

“What are you so afraid of?” Manzô smiled. “I thought Konoha ninja were better than that. Aren’t you at least going to put up a fight? Make it look good before we drag you back and force you to tell us all of your village’s secrets.”

“Ninja? What are you talking about?” Iruka looked wildly about, giving all imitations of dropping his guard. “Did that bastard tell you to do this to draw suspicion away from him?”

“Drop the act, Konoha dog! We know you came to rescue your friend!” Arisa snarled, glancing at the older man who nodded approvingly.

“Friend? What friend?” Iruka asked, making no effort to mask the confusion spreading across his face, before coming to a realization. “Shishi? You have Shishi? Where is Shishi? What have you done with Shishi? I don’t care if you kill me but just don’t harm Shishi!”

“Is he really from Konoha?” Shinsuke whispered rather loudly to his companions. “He doesn’t even know how to walk.”

Iruka stood there trembling as the three ninja looked at the footprints he’d made. They were deep and sloppy; the type of prints expected from a civilian who was unaccustomed to traveling in snow or using chakra to mask his presence and move effortlessly above the snow. They eyed his pack which he’d tossed in his haste to escape.

“But he has chakra, I feel it.” Arisa loudly whispered back in a manner that reminded Iruka of a ten-year-old Naruto.

It was true the man hadn’t used any jutsu so far, and when countered, he’d cowered like a civilian. No real ninja would ever throw away his pack.

“Grab him,” Manzô ordered, picking up Iruka’s backpack and making his way towards the nearest cabin.

“Let go, you damn thugs!” Iruka struggled as the younger ninja grabbed his arms, allowing himself to be half-dragged, half-carried into the building where the older shinobi had already lit a fire and was rifling through his belongings.

“What are you doing with my bag? That’s mine. Be careful with it!” Iruka yelled as the man lifted a kunai modified to look like a fishing knife.

“What is this and where did you get it?” the man asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“It’s a fishing knife. My father made it for me,” Iruka responded.

“When?” .

“When I was younger.”

“How young?”

“About eight or nine.”

The man appeared to consider his response before continuing, “Where did you live as a child?”

“Why do you want to know?” Iruka growled defiantly.

“Answer me damn it!” Manzô yelled, pulling Iruka by the hair. “Where did you live?”

“Several places. We moved around a lot to escape the war.”

Manzô used the age Iruka had given the bar owner to determine that the tan stranger was born during the Second Great Ninja War, and the knife was made during the Third Great Ninja war. Arisa was right; the man did give off chakra, more than a civilian but not the precise waves or tell tale absence of a ninja trying to hide his chakra.

“Shinsuke, hold his arms. Arisa, you keep his legs still.” Iruka could feel the two younger nin trembling on either side of him as they repositioned him to follow the older man’s orders.

Iruka began kicking when the man unlaced his boots, loosened his leg wrappings and removed his socks. He began screaming when he felt a more powerful chakra source enter the room

Author’s Note: The character Mifune in the later chapters of Naruto Shippuuden is based on one of my favorite actors – Toshiro Mifune. Many of the characters he portrayed were samurai in movies directed and written by the absolute genius filmmaker Akira Kurosawa. I am following in Kishimoto-sensei’s footsteps and using some of those characters.
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Another Perfect Wonder