Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ What He Wants ❯ Part 2 ( Chapter 2 )

Part 2

 

 

It's been two days since Iruka last saw Shiko, and he hopes that she's getting the help she needs. Unpleasant as it is to have a stalker, he doesn't harbor any ill will toward her. If she were at all capable of harming him or Kakashi, it might have been a different story, but as it is he can't help pitying her, and wondering what it is about himself that caught her attention in the first place.

 

Come to think of it, he wonders what caught Kakashi's attention in the first place. The only thing notable about Iruka is his friendship with Naruto, and maybe his ability to bellow so loudly that everyone from here to Earth country can hear him. He's a good ninja and an excellent teacher, but that's hardly comparable to being Sharingan Kakashi, Master of a Thousand Jutsu.

 

He tries to let his mind drift back to when he and Kakashi first got together, because it seems like he should know by now what sparked his lover's interest. But trying to think about it causes his persistent headache to throb sickeningly.

 

Iruka sighs, and pulls himself out of his desk chair. He leaves his recently-deserted classroom and heads toward the hospital. He can't put it off any longer; something is obviously wrong with him. As little as he likes the idea of being prodded by medics, he likes the idea of letting something possibly serious fester in his body unchecked even less.

 

The hospital is noisy and there is glistening blood on the floor of reception. Even as he takes note of it, a nurse snaps at someone to clean it up immediately. Iruka steps around the puddle, hoping it wasn't made by anyone he knows, and approaches the desk.

 

“Umino-san, can I help you?” says the nurse at the desk. Her voice is saturated with fatigue, and for some reason it makes Iruka think of an old sheet hanging over a tree branch, being buffeted by the wind.

 

“Um, yes, I hope so. I need to see someone about some headaches I've been having for a couple of weeks now. Bad ones,” he adds, feeling slightly foolish. Shinobi are out in the field being gutted every day, and here he is worrying about some lousy headaches.

 

The nurse just nods and hands him a form to sign, and leaves the desk briefly to fetch his medical chart from the records room for shinobi. Upon her return, she hands him his chart and points to the stairs. “If you'll head to the second floor, there should be a few empty exam rooms. Just stick this in the door and someone will be with you shortly.”

 

Iruka bows politely, but she is already busy with someone else. He heads upstairs, where it is much quieter, and finds an empty room. Sticking his chart in the provided slot, he sits down on the exam table, wishing he'd brought something to read. Judging from the commotion downstairs, it will be a while before someone gets around to seeing him.

 

He is mildly surprised when, only ten minutes later, a medic-nin knocks and enters. He endures the tedium of having his vitals checked while explaining the headaches. The nin nods and scribbles in his chart every so often, then has Iruka lie down while he uses chakra to examine Iruka's head.

 

After several minutes, Iruka notices the medic-nin's brow is furrowed and he looks perplexed. “Is something the matter, doctor?”

 

The nin gives a small shake of his head, more a request not to interrupt him than a negative. Iruka sighs inwardly and waits. He tries not to worry.

 

After what feels like hours but is probably only ten minutes or so, the nin finally steps back. “I'm going to need a Hyuuga,” he says matter-of-factly. “There seem to be slight abnormalities in your chakra pathways, but they're hard to pinpoint. I'm going to have to compare with your chart, but it also seems like there are some slight…aberrations in your brain cells. Not like a growth, but…” He shakes his head. “I'm going to inform Shizune-san and see what she thinks; I think she'd like to examine you herself.”

 

Iruka nods, a little stunned. For all the pain that the headaches caused him, he didn't actually believe that the problem would be all that serious. But if the medic thinks his headaches would interest Shizune-san, this will probably not be easily fixed.

 

He waits for almost an hour before the Hyuuga shows up, a medic-nin whom Iruka has seen a few times around town but never spoken to. Taciturn in the manner of all the Hyuuga, he merely nods before saying, “Byakugan.”

 

Iruka sits quietly while those penetrating, unnerving white eyes bore into his skull.

 

Without warning, the veins around the Hyuuga's eyes relax again and he slips out of the room. Iruka blinks, then gets up and sticks his head out into the hallway. The corridor both ways is deserted.

 

Iruka has had nightmares about being lost in an empty hospital, usually at night when the halls are shadowy and the fluorescent lights snap and crackle and sometimes wink out. The same feelings he has in those nightmares crawl under his skin, ominous and isolating, and he almost calls out.

 

Instead he closes the door and sits back down on the exam table, determined not to let his imagination get the better of him. Especially since it seems like he might have a major real-life problem.

 

It isn't long before he hears approaching footsteps. It sounds like three people, and Iruka figures they're probably not all coming to see him, but he hopes at least one of them is.

 

He wishes he could go home. He thinks longingly of Kakashi, who—if he doesn't have a mission—is probably at Iruka's apartment making dinner. Iruka was surprised that Kakashi was such a good cook at first, until Kakashi told him his secret, which was rather obvious in retrospect. Kakashi copies restaurant chefs with his Sharingan. Enough that he is now an excellent cook in his own right, but in Iruka's mind it's still cheating. Something that other people have to work so hard to accomplish shouldn't be stolen.

 

Not that Iruka doesn't appreciate the results, regularly, even if he does feel a little guilty about it.

 

The door opens, and the Hyuuga steps inside. Iruka is about to snap at him for leaving so abruptly before, but the words falter on the tip of his tongue as the medic is followed by two people Iruka really didn't expect to see: The Godaime Hokage and Morino Ibiki.

 

“Hokage-sama!” Iruka blurts, jumping to his feet and bowing deeply.

 

“At ease, Iruka-san,” Tsunade says, the barest edge of sarcasm in her voice.

 

Iruka stands still and looks nervously at the three of them, feeling icy claws of dread preying on his viscera. The Hyuuga and Ibiki stand slightly behind Tsunade, staring at him, hardly even blinking. Iruka had thought being under the scrutiny of a Hyuuga was disturbing, but it is nothing compared to being stared at by Ibiki. Iruka's bowels feel watery.

 

“Please pardon us, Iruka-san. We're just going to do a short examination, and then we can discuss this,” the Hokage says, and Iruka nods, steeling his expression and his body against showing any traces of his anxiety.

 

Tsunade approaches him and lays her hands on either side of his face, the green glow of her chakra suffusing the edges of his vision, while Ibiki removes a glove and places a hand on the back of Iruka's head. The silence pressing in while they stare intently into Iruka's face makes him want to scream.

 

After several moments, the hands leave his head and his two superiors retreat a few steps, giving him some air.

 

“It's a good thing you came in, Iruka-san. We were going to send for you,” the Hokage begins, her voice light, but her eyes intent. “We've got ourselves a real mess, here.”

 

The ice-claws are working their way up to Iruka's throat. “I'm afraid I don't follow. There's obviously something wrong with my br—“

 

“There's no easy way to tell you this,” Tsunade continues as though he hasn't spoken. “You might want to sit down,” she adds kindly.

 

Iruka sits mutely on the table.

 

“Your memory has been altered, Iruka-san, and there are very small tell-tale signs that indicate it was done via Sharingan.”

 

She pauses while Iruka's whole body freezes. There are only three known Sharingan users left in the entire world, and—though Tsunade just said his memory has been altered—it is extremely unlikely that he ran into Sasuke or Itachi recently. So that only leaves…

 

“Kakashi?” Iruka whispers.

 

Tsunade nods grimly.

 

“But…why would he…”

 

“Are you aware of Hatake's history, Umino-san?” Ibiki's voice is deep and startling in the sterile quiet, as cold and hard as the tile they stand on.

 

“I…know he graduated the Academy at age five, was a chuunin by six and a jounin by thirteen. And that his father killed himself when…when he was still a child.” The recitation helps him gather his thoughts, shove his bewilderment and growing horror to the back of his mind. “He was ANBU for many years.”

 

“So you are aware that he is sometimes dangerously unstable.”

 

“A lot of ninja are,” Iruka says, with a hint of defensiveness.

 

“But not a lot of ninja are as skilled as Hatake, nor were they killing for a living when they were only a couple of years out of diapers.”

 

Iruka shakes his head. “But…why would he have messed with my memories? We…” He trails off as a slightly hopeful thought strikes him. “Maybe I asked him to do it.” He doesn't like the thought, and he can't imagine why he might have asked his lover to mess with his mind, though the idea that he is a willing participant in this is better than the alternative.

 

But Tsunade is shaking her head. “I don't think so, Umino-san. We have evidence and testimony from several sources that indicate otherwise.”

 

“Sources? What sources?”

 

The Hokage sighs. “Let's continue this discussion in my office. Ibiki, Wataridori, do you have what you need?”

 

The Hyuuga—Wataridori, presumably—nods, and Ibiki says, “I'll probably need to ask him some more questions, but I've seen enough for now.”

 

They file out of the room, and as the other two stalk off in one direction, the Hokage motions for Iruka to follow her in the other. He stands, feeling almost as though he is moving underwater. Sounds and objects seem distorted, time is slow, and his stomach is a cold pit while the fires of panic burn just under his skin from his shoulders to the tips of his fingers.

 

The absurdity of Kakashi altering his memories for some unknown and possibly nefarious purpose makes him feel like both laughing and whimpering. If it was anyone other than the Hokage—backed by the head of T&I, no less—suggesting it, he would dismiss the notion out of hand. He is familiar with the Hokage's sense of humor, and to pull a prank like this, especially when Iruka has a real medical problem, does not fall within its scope. Nor does it fall into the scope of the black humor of Morino Ibiki, and as far as Iruka knows, no Hyuuga has a sense of humor. So this is definitely no laughing matter. Since no self-respecting nin would ever curl up in a ball and start weeping in public, at least not while consciously aware of it, Iruka is left with simply following the Hokage to her office, face neutral, and praying that things start to make sense soon.