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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
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Recherché
"Please, help me."
Into a life of service was he born, no other existence he knew; the overflowing valise, his ticket to a better life. He had the wits to play the role of an eccentric mountebank, but he'd lost the heart. What he needed was time … time to empty his head of the grotesque images left behind on the conservatory floor … time to organize his thoughts, to determine a new identity for himself.
"Please, help me."
Every estate had two parcels of land designated as escape routes, accessible either through underground tunnels or through a maze of timber adjacent the property; one led to the northern border, the other southeast to the sea shores. His course was plotted ere they turned onto the ancient path; they'd weave through the forests, hiding in shadows cast by moon beams filtering through the trees.
"Please, help me."
Broadcast from parts unknown, the discontinuous supplications echoed the cry of his heart; ignore them he must, his survival imperative. Kabuto was a man at ill liberty, one without a home, a purpose and now … without a country. Convinced it was only his mind playing tricks, he spurs the horse onward, faster and faster they fly along well trampled paths; still, the voice outside him grows in its urgency and volume.
"Please, help me."
Ahead in the clearing stands a woman, a reddish mist swirling about her feet. Her clothing suggests she hails from a noble house though she sways undignified, as a common woman bereft, her head and arms lifted to the heavens, shamelessly imploring the gods:
"Please, help me."
Curious, he turns the horse aside when suddenly, the woman fell to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks, her body trembling as if she might break in half.
So beautiful her pain, so exquisite her torture, he cannot look away.
Cautious, he brings the horse to halt not more than twenty paces from where she knelt. Better judgment thrown to the winds, he calls,
"What ails you woman?"
His presence and question the woman does not acknowledge, instead her mournful entreaty continues unabated.
"Please, help me."
He thinks to continue onward, to quit this place at once … again, he cannot. Closer and closer he comes, stopping only when he sees four more women emerge from the woods, each one as beautiful as the first, the same reddish mist swirling about their feet and clad in robes identical; each of them chanting the same refrain.
"Please, help me."
They come together in the clearing, falling to their knees, their voices in unison. The ground beneath his mount rumbles, sinking inward upon itself; twisted roots and whistling vines, spring up through soft loam, rapidly do they wind themselves about his paralytic body. His mount hobbled, they crash to the ground. Anon do the women trap him in their sights as the chorus reaches a crescendo, the lyric altered a whit, the women rise together; sinuously do they inch toward him, their voices blending as one.
"Help us please."
Alas, vigor has forsaken him as he makes a vain attempt at freedom. Helpless, he watches the vines and roots squeeze life and breath from his mount. Panic overtakes him, yet the scream he hears inside his head, never finds its way past his lips. It seems but an instant before the women are upon him as lionesses encircling their prey.
"Help us carry out the will of our Master."
Their cries of pain turn to derisive laughter as they fall upon him; their beautiful faces taking on the appearance of shrunken skulls, their voluptuous bodies melting before his eyes, as the women become corpulent masses of shimmering green, oozing putrid yellow slime. Their eyes, blood red and with fangs bared, they rip and tear into his flesh and that of his mount.
Recherché
And the death toll stands at three.
Between greeting and announcing incoming guests, Kinoe makes time to serve tea to those constables charged with guarding the interior and front lawns of the estate. Maito also busies himself, delivering the same potion laden refreshment to Ibiki's men hidden in the forests. Knowing the potion will do no permanent or traceable harm to the men, Kinoe and Maito smile through their respective amusement and ire. Apart from rendering them incapable of recognizing or preventing Dr. Umino and friends, tomorrow will these men awaken, slightly groggy, their memories partially infarcted.
"How did you know where to find us?"
was the oft asked question of the evening and Maito's response never varied. "I was blessed with a keen sense of smell which my Master harnesses for the amusement of his guests," he said time and again. "Lord Hatake would be honored if you fine officers partook of this, a small token of his gratitude and hospitality."
Recherché
The carriage bearing the banner of house Kokucho finally pulls to the front of the line; it's driver hurriedly alighting his perch.
"Quickly," he calls to a nearby uniformed officer, "my passengers … something is terribly wrong!"
Running to the carriage, the patrolman finds two men clutched in death's icy throes, their faces purple, lips cyanotic. Commandeering the vehicle, he crazily steers it down the steep driveway, racing toward the now shuttered Coroner's office.
Recherché
And the death toll stands at five.
This early in the evening and the plaza was jammed with people, as were the shorelines. Even the grassy knolls were running out of available space. Vendors didn't seem to mind the press and the shops along the avenues were still doing brisk business at this late hour. Good for them, he thought, but what he didn't see was the usual group of opportunists normally drawn to large gatherings. No need for concern, just trust that my men and their deputies are on their toes tonight.
As he worked his way through the throng of revelers, many of them turned to offer up limp fingered salutes as they stepped out of his way, others oohed and aahed as he passed by. There was no denying he cut an impressive figure … towering over pleasantly tipsy party goers in a dress uniform that pinched a tad round the middle still, they may have been angling away because he reeked of bay rum. Their motives mattered little to Ibiki.
Damn wiseacre tourists, he thought as the crowd bobbled and weaved about him.
He turned a deaf ear to the catcalls and whistles coming from the front door and open windows of the constabulary as he finally made it to the stables. But he could scarcely hold back a chuckle when Mayonaka was lead out; a highly polished saddle, an ornately plaited mane and his silver studded bridle shining like new money. "Now I don't feel so bad," he said, "you look as silly as I do."
Mayonaka shook his head and began walking back toward an open field behind the stable.
"Okay, get back here. Look," he confided as he grabbed the reins, "I didn't wanna get all gussied up either, but like it or not, we've gotta do what we gotta to get the job done. But what say we kill some time first? We could drop by the morgue... see Genma; he always has treats for ya?"
Another shake of Mayonaka's head nixed that idea.
"Alright, how bout we run by the docks, see how the men are faring?" Once again, Mayonaka turned to walk away. "I get it, you don't wanna be seen by your stable mates and I don't wanna hang around here any longer either. I've got another idea, trust me on this one. There's a good man." Sitting tall in the saddle, they eschew the main roads, opting for the circuitous route to Hatake manor. By the time they cross the boundary where the cottages end, and the grasslands begin, the arrest warrant and invitation are burning holes in his pocket. Veering off the path, he pats himself down for something of great import.
Do or die time, and wouldn't you just know it?
Tonight, of all nights, I left home without my flask.
Recherché
With each man considering what lay ahead, the interior of the coach was enveloped in awkward silence for most of the journey. Slumped against the window's ledge, Kotetsu stares out into the darkness, his thumb worrying at a neatly trimmed goatee; at the opposite end of the bench, Izumo sits hunched forward, forearms braced against his thighs, his thumbs twiddling. Iruka occupies the long bench across from them; pressed tightly against the plush backrest, his eyes are closed and his breathing even.
Not wanting to disturb, yet needing to inform, Izumo loudly clears his throat and says, "Iruka? I know you have a few things on your mind right now … but I'm afraid I need to add another."
A weary sigh accompanies the opening of his eyes. "Took you long enough ... go on, you think Sai is off his rocker too, don't you?"
"Course not. The kid's a gifted artist, they're supposed to be a little … different." Straightening all the better to look Iruka in the eyes, he quietly adds, "If only he were the problem." One more deep breath and the words rush out,
"It's me, Iruka … crossed a line I shouldn't have."
"Sounds serious, but trouble not," he said as his eyes slipped closed. "Whatever you've done, I'm sure it's fixable."
"Really, can you unring a bell?"
"Dagnabit," Kotetsu whines, "you're as bad as that Coroner! Say what ya hafta say or shut up, damn!"
The withering "don't rush me" look shot to his left was met with irritated silence. Sustained silence, nonetheless. Slowly he turns to face his bewildered cousin. "The thing is … I felt compelled to seek advice from Lady Tsunade; we ended up in a place I never intended-"
"Well, that explains why you were so long returning this afternoon," Iruka answered with a smirk, "but I know how it goes. Once you get her wound up, she'll go on and on."
"Yes, but when I saw her isn't relevant to the story … it's what I did while I was with her that-"
"Sheesh!" Kotetsu pipes up again, "Never woulda pegged her as your type. I mean … she's old-"
"I did nothing untoward so kindly drag your mind from the gutter. Look, Iruka, I went to see her because I was concerned. Told her about the nightmares and visions you were having-"
"Okay, not sure why that would be any of her business Zumo, but you needn't be on edge. I'm not angry-"
"Not yet. Here's the thing, Lady Tsunade isn't just a government official, she's a practitioner of Kampo. I had hope she'd be able to help you."
At the mention of the ancient therapy, Iruka opens his eyes. "And there we have it," he sneered, "you think I'm the crazy one."
"No, Iruka, I thought you were under stress, not crazy. Bothered me to see you in pain so, I went behind your back and spoke out of turn. Betrayed your trust ... I'm sorry."
Iruka leans forward with a gentle smile to slap Izumo on the wrist. "There ... you've been punished. Zumo, because your heart was in the right place and I'm big enough to forgive your well intentioned blabbermouthery, think no more of it. Hell," he chuckled, "I might have done the same thing if the situation were reversed."
"Whew! That's a load off. Then you won't mind letting her do an evaluation?"
"How's that now?"
"You think me inconsiderate, huh? What the hell are we supposed to do after they lock him up in the nuthouse Zumo?"
"Mind your beeswax," Iruka cautioned, "nobody's getting locked up-"
"I'm not so sure about that," Izumo said, his gaze shifting to the friend on his left. "I think one of us might … especially if Hatake has someone checking the guests for weapons, eh, Tetsu?"
"How did this suddenly turn on me? What makes you think I got weapons?"
"Might have something to do with the clanking noises I heard when you stepped into the carriage. Right then, hand 'em over. Don't make me pat you down."
"Like to see ya try and anyways, how am I supposed to protect myself, huh?"
"Protection is the job of the amulets," Izumo said as he turned in his seat and held out his hand.
"This is one of those times where I really don't like you Zumo."
"I'm heartbroken … now give."
Mumbling curses under his breath, Kotetsu dug deep inside his pockets and sulkily brought out one dagger, two kakute and two sets of knuckledusters. "You're both jackasses. Here, take 'em, and don't come crying to me if you get yourselves killed."
"Honestly, we've been invited to an upper crust, fancy dress gala, not a barroom brawl-"
"Where'd you get those things," Iruka wondered aloud, "and how long have you been hiding them from us?"
"Oh yeah, like we know all your secrets, Ruka. Leave me alone!"
"Enough! Tetsu, stop pouting and listen. I'm gonna put these right here in the compartment under the seat. If you behave yourself tonight, you might get them back when we get home."
"Who are you, my father? Alrighty then, if we're gonna play that game, I demand that you empty your pockets, Zumo."
Naturally, the bickering escalated and show and tell progressed to extremes after that.
While inching unnoticed toward the opposite window, Iruka thought,
If I agree with Tetsu's logic, Zumo will be offended but, if I look exasperated with their antics, neither of them will suspect anything. I'll take that chance. Last thing I wanna do now is explain why I've got an amulet stitched to the inside of my breast pocket and Father's dagger tucked inside my waistband.
Notes:
Mountebank: a person who deceives others, especially to trick them out of money.
Sinuous: of a serpentine or wavy form; marked by strong lithe movements.
Infarct: a small localized area of dead tissue which results from a lack of blood supply.
Partake: receive or have a share or portion.
Kakute: basically, rings with spikes. Usually worn with the spikes hidden in the palm as the kakute's main advantage lay in its grip. One ring would be worn on the middle finger while a second ring might be placed in the thumb. Gaining a firm grip on an opponent was the primary purpose of these weapons.
Knuckledusters: brass knuckles.
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