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Recherche	By : Eggburtshamslice Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Kakashi/Iruka Views: 4188 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Chapter List
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Recherché: Wheels in Motion
“When was the last time we shared a quiet breakfast Ibiki?”
“Never,” he said without thinking. “I know you didn’t ask me here just to watch me chew ma'am, so … let’s have it.”
“Promise to hear me out,” she asked, laying aside her chopsticks, “no back answers, alright?” “Fine.”
Tsunade leaned back in her seat, arms draped over the plump bolsters. “Well, after the third murder, I took a meeting with some of our elderly residents … to calm their fears, that sort of thing.”
“Yes ... and?”
“The way they told it, this isn't the first time the Land of Fire was targeted by a killer exhibiting the same characteristics as the one we’re looking for now. The victims, all young women, their bodies drained of blood, abandoned out in the open with no clues left behind. According to them, the murders continued with the rise of every full moon for about a year, and then suddenly … they stopped.”
“News to me. I don’t remember reading accounts of anything like that--”
“A horrendous loss … the Great Tsunami of 1771 destroyed most of the settlement and it’s records. Back then, people lived in the countryside and those who inhabited the town proper were transients here to learn a trade. What is known of that time came from the retelling of tales from those who survived.”
Ibiki pushed away his plate, his eyes riveted to hers.   “Would you have me believe we’re dealing with a copycat killer or are you suggesting our murderer is some decrepit old man?”
“Don’t be ridiculous … oh, you’ve finished already? I’ll take that last onigiri if you don’t mind.”
He watched her eyes light up when she plunked a triangular chunk of rice from the communal plate onto hers. “Lady Tsunade, it’s a waste of time getting riled up over the ravings of the senile or otherwise mentally deficient--”
“That’s what I thought too, at first.” Giving the onigiri captured between her chopsticks a delicate sniff, she popped it into her mouth; immediately, the space between her eyebrows wrinkled with disgust. Frantically seeking a discreet way to dispose of the offending food, she inelegantly spat it into a napkin of ivory linen. “Umeboshi,” she spluttered reaching for a glass of water.   “Yes, well … after that meeting, I tried not to think about what they told me." As she was speaking, her left hand slowly moved upward, her fingers absentmindedly caressing the Manju-netsuke that hung from an exquisite jade necklace. “However, after the fourth murder I realized I needed to conduct my own research. You know, I remember when my grandfather used to tell me stories of bizarre happenings in this land; used to think they were fanciful retellings of folklore to frighten impressionable children.”
Ibiki heard those same stories as he sat on his grandmother’s lap. They were tales of imps and hobgoblins that played tricks on unsuspecting humans, these angry spirits often destroyed crops or made away with livestock.   “Retribution for those who dared defile this land by building factories on sacred ground,” his grandmother used to say. “All we need do is increase the number of patrols during the full moon, Lady Tsunade. I know we can apprehend this fiend--”
“If our killer were a deranged human, then yes, I believe you would have arrested him before now.” Still stroking at the pendant, her eyes took on a hazy appearance. “I found several scrolls chronicling life during my ancestor's time ... they all bore witness to the truth of the elder’s stories.” When she spoke again, her voice sounded as if she were far away. “By the light of a full moon, Senju Hisao and a group of men were hunting in the forest when they happened upon a ‘creature’ in the clearing. This being and seven other ghostly apparitions were engaged in a ritual sacrifice or so it seemed to them.” She bowed her head suddenly, as if whispering a prayer; her hand covered her mouth as if holding back a curse.
He’d never seen her like this before; pale and trembling as if her words had the power to make manifest these beings of antiquity.
“Before they could get closer to the scene, a pack of wolves appeared out of the mist and chased them from the forest. Those wolves,” she whispered, “were taller and broader than full grown men.” Finally breaking free of discomposure, she added, “Strange days are these Ibiki. Konoha stands at a crossroads. Striving for modernity … chained to the past by something older than the land itself. We’ll have to take extraordinary measures to purge the land--”
“So you want the priest and monks to ‘exorcise’ the territory?”
“No ... well, not exactly. I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve sent for an expert ... a 'demon hunter'; practically begged him to come help us.”
“Why would you do that, ma’am? Have you no confidence in me or my constables?”
“I trust you implicitly--”
“Poppycock! If you trusted me at all you wouldn’t have--”
“Mind your tone, Inspector. I can’t undo what’s been done. Any day now, Dr. Umino Tadashi will arrive in Konoha; I want you to be present when I meet with him. You’ll need to keep an open mind--”
“Umino? Lady Tsunade … he’s dead!”
“What?" She lurched forward in the chair, "Who told you that?”
“He did … I mean, his son did. Umino, such an odd surname around these parts--”
“Son?”
“Yes ma’am.   Umino Iruka was one of the three young men I met with this morning; said his father died in May this year.”
“Impossible! I received Tadashi’s response to my letter in April--”
“Hardly think he’d lie about something like that--”
‘Of all the rotten luck,” she said, sinking back into her seat with a sigh, “here I was, pinning my hopes on his advice and guidance--”
“As I’ve said, we don’t need a ‘demon hunter’--”
Once again, her fingers found and rubbed at the netsuke. “Well if he’s dead now . . . that’s a problem--”
“And I expect, a major inconvenience for him as well. How do you know of these people anyway ma'am?”
“Don’t you remember? Oh … maybe not, you were still in the military back then. Dr. Umino Tadashi … worked at our hospital for years, his wife was a clerk in the old Admin Center.”
“Wouldn't have met ‘em anyway … my mother and grandmother were our family doctors--”
“Right. The Uminos ... small family, two sons, one daughter; the brothers married into the Shimizu clan. Tadashi and ... can't remember his brother's name, right now, but they studied medicine in Water Country then moved here for advanced training; their children were born in Konoha ...”
No wonder I couldn’t pinpoint the dialect, he thought. It's a mishmash of language from Water and Fire countries.
“... Japanese medical students traveled to England to learn new techniques, unfortunately, they didn’t have enough translators for their textbooks or teachers for the classroom, so Koichi, that's his name... the elder brother, accepted a position in London, or was it Cornwall? No matter. Tadashi and his family went to live with Koichi a few years later. My aunt and Tadashi’s wife Amaya, were good friends ... they maintained correspondence for years …”
Explains why his accent was so strong; received the bulk of his education abroad.
“Last time I saw Iruka, he was about five or six years old. Painfully shy, very mannerable little boy with chubby cheeks and a big smile,” she wistfully said. “Shame, he couldn’t follow in his father’s footsteps as a doctor; didn’t have an interest in biology or the stomach for the blood and guts of anatomical dissection. Anyway, Tadashi developed a close friendship with a man named Yamada Kenichi, a teacher of philosophy, student of ancient religions and the supernatural. Tadashi was something of a detective himself, an authority on things that go bump in the night.”
Ibiki rolled his eyes and huffed, “Lady Tsunade, I fail to see how any of this information pertains to our current situation--”
“Part of my research led me to a box filled with my aunt’s old letters, it’s what prompted me to contact Tadashi in the first place.”
Shifting about, Ibiki tried to keep his expression bland, and his eyes open; the combination of a rest broken night, a big breakfast and the Governor’s historical ruminations were easing him into a cozy kef.
“After Mr. Yamada died, Tadashi took up his research, became obsessed with it; some, including his wife, said he’d gone quite mad. He spent the last fifteen years of her life tracking down a killer like the one terrorizing Konoha. The last letter I found informed my aunt of his wife’s passing.”
Ibiki straightened in his seat at that. How could the same murderer be in two places, a continent and an ocean apart at the same time?   "You’ll pardon me but, this talk of the occult is something I can’t stomach.”
“What? Inspector ‘I’ve seen everything and nothing rattles me,’ Morino, jelly-legged about the supernatural? That’s rich.” Toying with the lump of rice hidden inside her napkin, she went on to say, “I understand this is hard for a logical mind like yours to take in and process, but I've a feeling Iruka and the book he has will be quite informative.   If nothing else, we get a good laugh from it. What I need you to do is find out where he’s staying... we’ll set up a meeting and talk things over--”
“There’s nothing to discuss. Be it known right now, I want nothing to do with this foolishness!”
Suddenly, her face flushed and eyes narrowed when she stood. “Doesn’t matter what you want or what you’re comfortable with. We’ve eight murders and no suspect in custody; face it … traditional methods of investigation have failed us. You will do as I’ve asked, and that ends our discussion. Good day,” she said, stiffly nodding her head toward him.
Rising deliberately, he curtly bowed, his eyes icily locked on hers. “Thank you for breakfast . . . ma’am,” he said, turning on his heel.
Once outside the complex, he retrieved his cigar and bit down hard on its tip. Has everyone except me lost their damn mind? Demon hunters . . . exorcists . . . the writings of crazy old men taking precedence over reason and sound police work!
The hell’s this world coming to?
When he strode toward his office, the people parted before him again, this time in fear; he looked as if he’d snap the neck of the next person who dared speak or even look his way. Veering toward the stables behind the constabulary, stung by what he perceived as betrayal, he snapped in the direction of the hapless stable master who’d come to greet him. “Saddle up my mount! I want him outside the front door of the Constabulary and ready to go in five minutes,” he said gruffly, flinging a chit toward the man. Thankfully, the squad room was somewhat empty, save for a few patrols handing in their reports; they had the good sense to lower their voices and step away from him as he approached the watch commander’s desk.
“Ryota, where were those bones found this morning?”
"Guess I don’t need to ask how your meeting with the Governor went." A side drawer squeaked open and before Ibiki could draw in the first puff of a fresh cigar, Ryota was spreading a map of the town across his desk. “Here,” he said pointing to an area of the forest west of the lumber mill. “The bones were delivered to Genma’s office about ten minutes ago.”
“Those three young men that were in here earlier," he ground out, "find out where they’re staying. Governor wants to meet with them as soon as possible.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem, the inns are relatively empty since the Tsukimi Festival was a bust. I’ll get that information to Miss Shizune personally,” he said refolding the map.
When next he looked up, Ibiki, the map and his matchbox were gone; the sound of horseshoes clattering over cobblestones in the town square was all he could hear.
Recherché
After a brief meeting with the Governor’s assistant, Iruka returned to the inn. Bolting the door, he covered the room in less than ten paces.   From its hiding place beneath the bead, he retrieved the valise. He knelt in silence, letting disappointment subside as the familiar aroma of pipe tobacco rose from deep inside the case. He found himself rubbing his hand across the smooth cool leather, fortifying the connection to his father’s spirit. When he was able, he plopped down on the bed, separating the upper compartment of the valise from its lower half, revealing a small cache of weapons. Knives and ancient talismans lay beside vials of water and holy oils blessed by the priests in England; they’d offered prayers on his behalf, believing as he did, that demons walked among the living. Next to them were notebooks written in his father’s cramped handwriting; the old man’s eyes, dimmed by sickness, his mind, inflamed with fever when he penned these notes. At the center of the valise was a scroll bound with leather straps – it contained Umino Tadashi’s final instructions and precautions for using the weaponry and the other tools of the trade.
By now was Iruka’s vision distorted by tears which refused to fall; his hands trembling with rage as he unsheathed one of the knives.
“Father, I swore to avenge you," His left hand swept over the talismans, "today, I reaffirm that promise. As I come one step closer to fulfilling my purpose in this life, may your spirit guide me. I vowed on your grave to carve out the heart of his seed in tribute to you for the suffering experienced at his father's hands.”
This very knife his father used to strike down two members of the same family line Iruka was determined to bring to its end. The weight of the blade, comforting in his right hand.
“As predicted, he's returned to the land of his origin. Across foreign soil and one continent, I’ve tracked him down. Here in Konoha he intends take a bride and spawn legion of demons more powerful than he. I’ll not allow that Father.”
At this point was his breathing labored, he feared the same madness which brought his father to ruin, was staking its claim on him as well. The knife’s blade dug into his palm, the pain serving to strengthen his determination.
“The life of your only son depends on it … grant me wisdom and cunning.”
A twist of the wrist, the face reflected in the shining blade stunned him; eyes wide and wild as he brought the cutting edge to his lips. The kiss of cold steel, a trickle of warm blood filled his mouth as he spoke these words against the two-edged blade:
“I will not fail Father.”
NOTES:
Manju-netsuke: Netsuke, miniature sculptures invented in 17^th century Japan to serve a practical purpose; it was a carved button-like toggle used to prevent the contents of a pouch from spilling out. A Manju-netsuke was thick and flat, with the carvings usually done in relief; they were sometimes composed of two ivory halves.
Umeboshi: pickled plums, very sour and salty.
Tadashi: “correct, loyal, righteous.”
Kenichi: “strong, healthy, first son.”
Yamada: “mountain rice field.”
Kef: a state of drowsy contentment.
April 12, 1771, the Great Yaeyama Tsunami was triggered by an earthquake.
Koichi: “light/shining first child.”
Amaya: “night rain.”
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