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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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A/N: Just a few more murders and Kakashi's late night visit to the cabin.
"Skip the tea … I wanna hear this alleged ‘proof’ about you being in one place while we had two sets of eyes on ya in another place. Go on then, make me believe it.”
“Tetsu!”
“What? Now aint the time to humor him. If he’s cracked in the head, then as his friends we oughta tell him straight--”
“I agree that delusional isn't a good look for him Tetsu, but, there’s a right way to go about everything. He doesn't need condemnation ... we should be supportive--”
"We aint got time to pussyfoot around either. We need a solution to a real problem … like how we're supposed to defend ourselves against goo-gobs of gaki--?”
“I handed over your little cache of weapons, didn’t I?”
“If I was fightin' human opponents that would do me but--”
“That's what I tried to tell you in the carriage, but did you listen?”
"Both of you … shut up,” Iruka snapped as he started undoing the buttons of his night shirt. “I realize there’s no rational explanation for what happened, but before you write me off as crazy, get a load of this.” Suddenly, he pulled back the material and puffed out his chest. "You can apologize at any time."
Izumo and Kotetsu looked him over for a few seconds, straining to see something other than bare skin.
“Well?”
“I'm sorry Ruka, cause all I see are the same six chest hairs you had since I’ve known ya--”
“Then you need glasses. You see it, don’t you Zumo?”
After a weighty silence, he shook his head and breathed, "Iruka ... buddy ... aint diddly squat there--”
"Seriously?" Grabbing at the other man's hand, Iruka guided it over a broad area of his skin. "It's burned into my flesh; surely you feel it?"
“Alrighty then … I sense you guys need some privacy--”
"Take your seat smart ass! Iruka, I can't see or feel anything, so do me a favor … tell me what you see--"
“For cryin' out loud … it’s the exact same herald as the one in Hatake’s foyer! Of course, it’s upside down for me, and a lot smaller but,” he traced the lines in his skin, “right here and here … two grey wolves standing on their hind legs, and right here, their front paws … supporting either side of the letter ‘H;’ they're wearing braided gold crowns, for heaven sake!”
Izumo and Kotetsu looked again, even taking turns running their fingers over the areas Iruka kept pointing to and still, nothing.
“Wait a minute … do you remember drinking or eating anything that tasted like fennel?”
“Haven't eaten anything since lunch yesterday Zumo. And I had one glass of wine before the old lady latched onto me, though it may have been a liqueur; it was sweet with an anise aftertaste--”
“Was it green?”
“Green? No, I’d remember that. It was a pale color, I think. I just gulped it down--”
“First of all, you should never do that and secondly … Absinthe. I saw one of the servants carrying a tray of cloudy drinks … probably intended for the French delegation--”
“And?”
“Tetsu, in those sensitive to its ingredients and especially on an unfed stomach, Absinthe is rumored to cause mild hallucinations--”
“So, he’s not crazy?”
“That’s a debate for another time. Cover yourself Iruka and let me have these packets,” he said when he rose and headed toward the kitchen. “As I don’t trust you near an open flame, I'll make tea and some miso soup for you. You'll be right as rain by morning.”
Kotetsu also stood, reached across the table and lightly rapped Iruka upside the head.
“That was for drinkin’ weird stuff ... amateur.”
Recherché
Shuttled through the kitchens and out the back door, Takara was shoved toward the open bed wagon, her one-way ticket to a holding cell when a mounted patrol officer rode up.
“Inspector wants me to take this one to the outpost,” he said.
She was hefted onto his horse without further conversation, handcuffed, she sat in front of the rider for a quiet bumpy ride through the forests. Fifty yards from the border, the rider halted, releasing her from the cuffs and lowering her to the ground.
“For keeping his prize out of the hands of the constables, my Master is most appreciative. As your reward, he has granted you conditional freedom; but you must cross the border now and never return to Konoha.”
“Lord Hatake is most gracious. Please,” she said with a bow, “thank him for me sir.”
The checkpoint in the distance her only focus, she took off running. At the ten-yard point, near the terminus of the woods, two large grey wolves moved to block her path. She slowed, leaning against a tree, catching her breath, her eyes scanning the surroundings for another exit. At the rustle of leaves behind her, she turns and watches in silent horror as strange and terrifying creatures emerge from the soft loam; inch by inch, the wolves have crept closer, their hackles raised, and teeth bared. While the vegetation swallows up her screams and the cracked earth sucks down splatters of her blood, the mounted patrolman and his horse vanish in a puff of black smoke.
The other of Lord Hatake's special guests are led down to the vaults where the Yasha, empty of belly wait to feast on them.
Recherché
By 1:15am, the orchestra and their instruments are piled into rickety wagons and headed toward the center of town. In the kitchens, the chefs have offered up congratulations to the victors; exhausted, they too load into ox drawn carts headed toward the inns. Many of the dignitaries are taking their leave, and as he’d done in welcome, so too does he in farewell; a genial host, personally thanking each guest for sharing this magical evening with him, lord Hatake presses a tiny gift into their hands as they step into ornate carriages which will bear them to the inns. On the back lawn, those sixteen men chosen by lottery, mind the dying bonfires. One by one, each man is pulled aside by a comely house maid and enticed into the wooded areas for a special treat. Passions aroused by her ministrations, his body will be torn asunder the moment of la petite mort; his flesh, sustenance for the Yasha, his wagon and supplies, broken down as fuel for the embers of the bonfires, and his horses will become meat and drink for the gaki.
Recherché
Not long after their conversation ends, Kotetsu, Izumo and Iruka trudge off to their rooms; their bellies full and spirits lightened. The flame of his lantern extinguished as Iruka crawls into bed, his father’s dagger beside him on the nightstand, the remaining amulet plucked from the breast pocket of his waistcoat, now secure under his pillow. Yet, as he hunkered down, into that gentle goodnight … he will not go. Visions of grotesque creatures, rotate continuously on a spindle of worrisome thoughts and words left unspoken as he lay staring up at the ceiling.
Recherché
2:00 am: A serenade of howls echoes about him as through the woods and by tiny moonlit streams he walks; his thoughts a shamble, noticing everything, yet seeing nothing. Logic defines not that which drives him, ever onward to the source of his disquiet. And now he stands before the cabin in which his prey fitfully tosses and turns upon his bed.
Flagging conviction, nagging questions cast off,
shrugged aside as through the walls he passes,
that he may stand in the room where answers lie.
One step, two steps, three steps, four…
desire to rise up and slay,
kept under pressure
now froths and seethes;
from their hiding places, do fangs and claws slip, bared for maximum damage.
Five steps, six, seven and nine,
beneath a thin sheet and through the fabric of his nightshirt shines
bright the seal.
A beacon to a mind adrift in the roiling sea of wrath.
The arm drawn back ready to strike,
the hand poised to smother,
stopped by a voice...
“Kakashi, my son … he is key to achieving your goal; he must be spared alive.”
His mind, a conflagration, his insides churning; he turns his back on the target for a moment as articulation escapes him ...
Like a flash, Iruka is upright, the dagger held tightly in his hand. “What are you doing here?”
"The seal … it is intended to draw you to me ...not the other way around." he growled when he turned to face him. "I'm here to find out why."
"Stay back demon!"
"My dear Dr. Umino, you use that appellation as if it were an insult.
I am a demon,"
he said as he drew closer, "a very powerful and vengeful ... demon. I warn you ... test not my patience for though my grace sustains you, that will not be the case forever."
"And I'm warn you Hatake … don't come any closer!" The dagger having shifted, now weighs heavy in his left hand; reaching under the pillow, his eyes remain locked on Kakashi's as he slowly withdraws and holds forth a small red stone.
Without his consent does his hand obey an order unspoken, trembling uncontrollably as the knife slips from it. In a breath, the stone is snatched from his other hand; his eyes wide as it glows white in Hatake's palm.
"So, this is where it was coming from. And what a lovely shade of carnelian," he said running his fingers over the jagged nugget, "like unto the color of flesh."
Iruka pressed his back against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest. "Blessed and anointed by holy men, that stone repels evil," he mumbled, "supposed to be anathema to you!"
"Funny," he rolled it around in his palm, "doesn't seem to be working--"
"How is this possible?"
"Well, if it’s any comfort, the stone is a deterrent to gaki of a lower class--"
"Pfft," Iruka cut his eyes at him, "what comfort should I expect ... clinging to a lie all this time? The old lady ... a Yasha; didn't seem to bother her or your manservant--"
"Neither of them are of the lower classes. So, Tadashi never explained the purpose of the stone or how he came into possession of it?"
Iruka shook his head.
"I see. Then I'll not leave you ignorant. This was a gift from my father to yours; it's a receptacle for a portion of a numen's aura--"
"Sakumo is dead! Whatever power he possessed, disintegrated with him--"
"You have much to learn, Dr. Umino," he said while casually pocketing the amulet. "I reign over the gaki in the territory--"
"I’ll be sure to organize a parade for ya Hatake."
“The moment I came close to you inside that holding cell, the stone resonated with my power; I felt its pull, but I didn't understand where it was coming from or why. Not that it matters now; the seal in your flesh represents a claim against your soul. It also serves to protect you from envious gaki--"
"Be it understood now, my soul belongs to the god who created it. I don't want your protection Hatake!"
"Ah, yes … but in the coming days you will certainly need it. Mark well, Umino … you will belong to me … body and soul."
"Is that a threat?"
"Think of it as preparation--"
“I've grown weary of your posturing and these words of vanity. You got what you came for … begone!”
A silvery eyebrow raised in amusement. “If you dare issue orders to a god, then the seal needs reinforcement. I'll tend to that next time we meet. For now,” he said extending his arm toward Iruka, “you will take your rest."
Without another word, Iruka felt his body stretching out to its full length, his pillow a puffy cradle for his head, as his eyes fluttered closed and an invisible hand pulled the thin sheet about his shoulders.
Hatake spared his prey a final look before exiting. “Such simple creatures these humans.” Once outside the cabin, his fey smile disappeared as Jiraiya approached.
“My Lord," he said as he knelt, "do with me what you will, but I must warn you of the dangers--"
"Of fraternizing with humans? Years spent in the presence of my father gave me knowledge and from his missteps, have I gained wisdom; you needn't worry."
"I will speak plainly, Lord Kakashi … it is dangerous for you to spend time alone with Umino."
"Danger lies in wait for the human. Every breath he draws infuriates me to the core, yet am I prevented from killing him outright. You've no idea the frustration building inside me, yearning for release--"
"It is not frustration my lord … it is confusion, a conflict which will steadily weaken your resolve."
"I will hear no more of this." He made to walk away as the servant said, "You are your father's son, his strengths and glaring weaknesses made manifest in you." Kakashi stopped in his tracks, turning about slowly as Jiraiya continued, "I know what you've done … ingesting the remains of your mother and grandfather. Such a dichotomy renders judgment deceitful. Having tasted the blood of the sacrifice and of your prey, compassion will surely gain a foothold in your thoughts. The grant of mercy you struggle with is incompatible with your true nature, but I've assembled a remedy--"
“Jiraiya ... faithful servant and confidant to my father, guardian of my life and trusted mentor; do you still not understand? Human emotion is no match for the strength of my ancestors--”
"I understand that even Lord Kama cannot compete with the love of a mother for her child.” As Master sidestepped the kneeling form, Jiraiya grabbed him by the arm. “My Lord, if you are to rule over the Five Nations, it is imperative we crush these … feelings of pity--”
“Though you speak truth, it is as one unacquainted with my true nature …. see,” he said as the bones of his servant’s hand snapped beneath his, “I've given mercy no place, even toward one I've known for an eternity. You do well not to meddle not in the affairs of your Master.”
Recherché
Ensconced in the inner sanctum of his office where wads of crumpled papers litter the floor and desk, and the volume of a shot glass lessens by the half hour, Ibiki vacantly stares at the blank piece of paper before him that will eventually become his report to the Governor. The leather back of the chair sighs along with him as he flops against it.
“Pardon the interruption,” Ryota says as the door creaks open a mite. “While everything was going to hell about us, forgot to give you this.”
“Is it another bottle of whiskey? No? Then I’m not interested.”
Undeterred, Ryota strides toward him. “I think you will be, Ibiki … it’s from London.”
“Gimme and get out.”
Ryota dropped it in the center of the desk with a grin. “You’re welcome.”
When the door drew closed, he lazily leaned forward. Shaky hands grab hold of the envelope and rip it asunder. Bleary eyes skim over diagrams of the crime scene, the Coroner’s report and witness statements until they fell on a single sentence. Once more Ibiki flopped back in the chair, arms clutched around his midsection to hold back the laughter.
And just when I’d given up hope of pinning you down Umino.
By 4:45am, alcohol and sheer exhaustion have pushed the Inspector to the brink. His hands folded in his lap and chin dipping to his chest, the creaking of his office door rouses him from slumber.
“The hell do you want?”
The night commander stood at the corner of the desk, nervously clearing his throat. Finally, he managed, “Sir … we got another victim.”
“What!?”
“Patrol almost tripped over the body… propped up against the Admin Complex front door she was. They carted her off to--”
Ibiki had his overcoat in hand and was striding to the rear exit of the building before the night commander finished speaking. Once again, he made the trip to the hospital’s basement.
“Didn’t expect ya so soon,” Genma called as he walked into the room. “Just finishing up with the external exam and I think, I may have single handed solved your lady killer case. Wondered why she wasn't with the rest of ‘em--”
“The hell are you on about Genma?”
“Fully dressed and her throat was all tore up like the other ones, but damned if her lady parts aren't a bloody mess. Now I understand why that boy had to kill himself--”
“I don’t follow--”
“Come closer, take a good look at her … it’s one of the Uchiha girls.”
The noise level dipped as Genma’s assistants cleared a path for Ibiki to zigzag through the tables.
“Damned ironic, isn’t it? Suté … the forsaken foundling.”
“Yeah,” Genma sighed. “Anyway, call it a hunch, but I think the brother was raping her when Fugaku walked in on ‘em; that’s why this Itachi fella panicked and decided to eliminate witnesses--”
“What? Itachi died hours ago. This girl was just found. How come nobody noticed before? And who the hell would put her there?”
“Haven’t the foggiest,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Read somewhere that liver temperature renders approximate time of death; it’s worth a try. As to that other business, people say them Uchiha inbreed, you know … incest? And I also heard tell they dabbled in witchcraft. So, I’m thinkin’ he cast a spell to keep the body hid until first light--”
“That sounds ridiculous--”
“Coming from you, yeah it would; coming from me … townsfolk would eat it up.”
"I can't ask you to do that Genma--”
"What ask? Already outta my hands," he whispered as he pulled Ibiki aside. "See these medical students? They’ve been with me all night … in awe, matter of fact; can’t blame ‘em … not every day they’re in the presence of greatness.”
“For god sake man, those chemicals are rotting your brain.”
“You’re just ticked off because I closed the case before you could. When word gets out about the slaughter of an entire clan, guess who folks are gonna ask for all the gory details? Me, naturally, but since I can’t be everywhere at once … these young folks will happily fill in the blanks,” he said with a wink. “Yep, based on my expert opinion since I am the undisputed authority on death and its causes … what I say carries weight. Of course, I’ve cautioned these students not to breathe a word about what they’ve seen and heard tonight. Reckon you owe me one, Inspector.”
Ibiki sucked at his teeth as the light of understanding clicked on behind his eyes. "Yes of course; thank you for your time Mr. Shiranui. I await your complete report."
“Most of ‘em are done already … I tell ya, these kids learn quick. Hope you’ll pardon me for not seeing you to the door, gotta lot to finish, tying up loose ends and all that.”
A beefy hand landed between the stunned Coroner’s shoulder blades, as Ibiki grinned to beat the band.
“Never thought I’d say this to your face Genma, but you’re a genius.”
Notes:
La petite mort (French): “the little death,” an expression meaning the brief loss or weakening of consciousness as when one experiences orgasm.
Conflagration: large, disastrous fire; conflict, war; destructive fire, usually an extensive one.
Articulation: the formation of clear and distinct sounds in speech; the act or process of speaking or expressing in words.
Carnelian: a translucent quartz stone; available in red orange, pink and brown colors. Its name is derived from the Latin words for ‘horn’ and ‘flesh,’ or ‘made of flesh.’ It was used as a talisman to counteract doubt and negative thoughts; it was also said to protect from and drive away evil. Talismans of carnelian were worn to keep the dark forces from influencing the wearer’s mind.
Anathema: in this case it is a damning curse embodied in the stone marked as a holy and consecrated object. To the righteous, it is a blessing … to the damned it is confirmation of their final destination … the pits of hell.
Dichotomy: a division or contrast between two things that are represented as being opposed.
Absinthe is a distilled, highly alcoholic beverage with an anise flavor derived from the flowers and leaves of grand wormwood, green anise, sweet fennel and other medicinal herbs to give it a natural green color. The traditional French preparation involves placing a sugar cube on top of a specially designed slotted spoon, which is placed atop a glass filled with a measure of absinthe. Iced water is poured or dripped over the sugar cube to mix the water into the absinthe. As water dilutes the spirit, those components with poor water solubility, such as the anise, fennel and star anise, come out of solution and cloud the drink. The resulting milky iridescence is called the louche or ladle. The release of these dissolved essences coincides with a perfuming of herbal aromas and flavors that "blossom" or "bloom," to bring out subtleties otherwise muted in the neat spirit. This is the oldest and purest method of preparation, often referred to as the French Method.
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