Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ What He Wants ❯ Part 3 ( Chapter 3 )

Part 3

 

The Godaime's office on the top floor of the hospital is painted an earthy yellow, accented with sunshine from the window that takes up the majority of the South wall, and cluttered with medical texts and scrolls. It is far more inviting than most of the hospital, and ordinarily it would have set Iruka at ease. But today, sitting in one of the stuffed leather chairs the Hokage waved him into, he is tenser than ever.

 

“Tea?” Tsunade offers.

 

“Yes, please,” he answers, mostly out of politeness and to give himself a little time to settle his nerves. They still aren't settled by the time Tsunade hands him a steaming cup. He sips it, heedless of temperature, to give himself something to do. “Has anyone talked to Kakashi about this…situation?” he asks after a few moments under the Godaime's observation.

 

“Ibiki had him detained this morning. He's still in T&I's custody.” Tsunade's voice is flat and neutral. Iruka doesn't know her terribly well, but is familiar enough with her to know that is not a good sign. He just doesn't know what it's not a good sign of, exactly.

 

Kakashi is in custody. Kakashi is. Kakashi has messed with his memories, tinkered with his brain. Against his will, if Tsunade is to be believed. Iruka can't imagine a reason for the Hokage to make up something like that, but then he can't imagine a reason for Kakashi to alter his memories, either. He can't think straight; nothing is making sense.

 

“You've crossed paths with a woman by the name of Tatsumaki Shiko.”

 

Iruka startles. “Shiko-san? My stalker?”

 

Tsunade raises a brow. “You have a restraining order against her.”

 

“Yes. She's been quite disruptive, though I—what does she have to do with any of this?”

 

“The restraining order is a forgery.”

 

Iruka's mouth falls open, but his mind is a complete blank. “Pardon me?” he eventually manages.

 

Tsunade casually examines her nails. “The restraining order is a forgery. It was never signed by a judge. There was even a forged paper trail, which made the falsification even harder to discover, and that's why when you've contacted the authorities about her before, they took action as though the order were legitimate. It took us several days to puzzle this out; the forger covered his tracks very well. Even now, we wouldn't be completely certain, but Kakashi's admitted to it.” She raises her eyes to Iruka's, and they are not without sympathy.

 

“Admitted to..? Hokage-sama, with all due respect, I remember filing for the order. It—”

 

“We've already established that your memories have been altered.”

 

Iruka gapes for a moment. “For what possible reason would Kakashi do something like that?!” Iruka is getting exasperated. He wishes the Hokage would just explain. He knows he is being rude, but he can't bring himself to care. “There's absolutely no—“ Suddenly the implications of what the Hokage is saying sink in, and he subsides into his chair, feeling as though he's turned to lead. “Are you—do you mean to say…”

 

“Yes, Iruka-san?”

 

“That woman…Shiko-san. She claims that…we…if there's no restraining order…you mean she's not crazy? She never had brain damage?”

 

“Kakashi told you that?”

 

“Yes. After she approached me the…the first time, I told him about it and he said he'd check her out for me. A day or so later he told me she was trapped in a building that collapsed during Orochimaru's attack.” Iruka can feel sweat dripping down his forehead, itching, and he brushes at it irritably.

 

“That much is true. She suffered from a broken arm, cracked ribs, contusions and a mild concussion, but she has no history of any brain tissue damage or mental illness.”

 

Iruka swallows heavily. “She claims that we were…in a relationship together, and one day I started saying I couldn't remember her…I…” A memory flashes through his mind, of himself and Shiko, the first time he can remember meeting her. She had walked up to him with a huge smile on her face and tried to kiss him, and he dodged on reflex. Her smile had faltered, then reappeared as she accused him of teasing her. His explanation of not knowing who she was garnered similar results, until she realized he was serious. His continued assertions that he had never met her before had been received extremely badly. She had gone ballistic, calling him a coward, screaming obscenities foul enough to make a sailor blush. She had stormed away, shaking with rage and badly-concealed hurt, leaving Iruka baffled.

 

Iruka had only had a couple of further confrontations with her before she began to believe he really couldn't remember her. He'd already filed—well, the restraining order had already been created by then. Kakashi had chased her off several times; he supposes it was easy enough for her to come to the conclusion that Kakashi was responsible. He doesn't know whether she knew about their relationship or not, but if she had, it would have made the conclusion even easier to draw.

 

Abruptly, the Hokage begins speaking again. “According to several civilian witnesses you were indeed in a relationship with Tatsumaki Shiko until about a month ago. Her parents are also witnesses to this; they claim you had dinner with them every Sunday for several months. The ninja we've interviewed mentioned you having a girlfriend, but none of them ever saw you with her or knew her name. Several of them who saw you with Kakashi over this past month said they assumed you meant him, and you'd been referring to him as your `girlfriend' because you weren't ready to come out of the closet. Tatsumaki says that the two of you had decided to shield her identity from the ninja community so that she wouldn't be targeted.” Tsunade takes a deep breath, averting her eyes from Iruka's for the first time. “She also says that the two of you had just gotten engaged a few days before your…amnesia started. Tell me something, Iruka-san. What are your memories like for the past year?”

 

Engaged? He'd been engaged to Shiko? The thought is an alien skittering around his mind, completely unrecognizable. Shouldn't he feel something, if that is true? Shouldn't he feel…a sense of rightness, or…Iruka has to shake his head to dislodge such thoughts. The bottom line is that while he knows the basics of the Sharingan, teaches them to his pre-genin, he has no idea how what he's experiencing now could be caused by it. The only cases that even remotely resemble his, and that only because they involved the manipulation of the mind, are Kakashi and Sasuke's encounters with Uchiha Itachi's Mangekyou Sharingan, his Tsukiyomi. If this is all some kind of advanced genjutsu—

 

“Iruka-san, please answer my question,” Tsunade says, her voice soft but hardening.

 

“My apologies, Hokage-sama,” Iruka says automatically. “This is…a lot to absorb.” He is having a hard enough time just suppressing his emotions and trying not to think about what all this means for himself and Kakashi, for what lies between them.

 

Or doesn't.

 

He shoves the thought away with enough violence to make his hands fist so tight the skin on his knuckles to feel like it's going to split.

 

“I understand, but it's important that you answer my questions. The sooner you do, the sooner we can sort all this out.” Tsunade's voice is soft again, though her eyes are piercing. “Are there memories that you seem to be missing, or that seem strange when put under scrutiny? Are you even able to put your memories under scrutiny?”

 

Iruka clears his throat, straightens, forces his hands to relax, allowing blood-flow to pinken his whitened knuckles. “My memories. I…” He pauses to consider. “Well, now that I think about it, there have been several times when I've tried to think of specific things, things I feel like I should know, like how Kakashi became interested in me, or me in him. When I do, my headaches get really bad, and they don't get better until I get distracted and start thinking of something else. I always blamed the headaches; I never thought to blame the memories themselves. Or the lack of them, since I can't remember ever actually recalling whatever I was trying to recall at the time.” He frowns, trying to think back to the origins of his and Kakashi's relationship again, and feels no pain, but he does notice a strange sort of sloughing sensation in his mind, his self-queries being brushed off and redirected, as much as he tries to focus. “I'm trying to remember something, but I can't focus on it. My head's not hurting, though.” He glances up. “Is that your doing?”

 

“It was both Wataridori-san and I, but it won't last more than a few hours. Your mind should be a little clearer.”

 

“It seems strange that I didn't notice all of this sooner.”

 

“It's not strange at all,” Tsunade contradicts. “I'm not sure if the headaches are a deliberate deterrent or an unfortunate by-product of the process, but the technique itself seems designed to keep you from questioning. It's similar to being halfway in a dream state. Common sense you'd normally have, connections you'd ordinarily be able to make quite easily simply don't occur to you. You just accept whatever the dream throws at you, as long as no one interferes with it.”

 

“Hokage-sama, can you fix this? Can you undo what…what Kakashi did to me?”

 

Tsunade steeples her fingers in front of her lips, tapping the index fingers together idly. Iruka squirms, a sudden sensation of being a stranger to himself making him want to crawl out of his own skin or dash his brains all over Tsunade's cluttered desk so he can sort through them, see what's in there.

 

He really is in a nightmare, he realizes.

 

“Between myself, Ibiki, Shizune, Kurenai, a few of the Hyuuga and possibly Anko,” Godaime begins, “we have enough techniques that we could possibly undo some of what he's done. However, most of those techniques are meant to be used on enemy shinobi, and have more to do with memory eradication than alteration or recovery. You would almost certainly lose more than you would gain. Kurenai is probably our best hope—well,” she amends, “Kakashi is the best hope, but under the circumstances I'll be damned if I let him anywhere near your brain for the foreseeable future.”

 

The words are like a wall falling on Iruka, crushing the breath from his lungs. “Why would he do this to me, Hokage-sama?” he implores, his voice a little strangled. “Why would he violate me like this? I…do I even really love him? Do I know anything about him at all? I can't trust anything I think, anything I remember, not even anything I feel!”

 

Tsunade rises from her desk, rounding it noiselessly to kneel in front of him and clasp his hands in hers. He can feel her unholy strength thrumming just under her skin, and the compassion in the gesture forces tears to his eyes. But though he can cry in front of students, he refuses to cry in front of his Hokage. He bites his tongue until it bleeds.

 

There is a long moment of silence before Tsunade finally whispers, “Kakashi claims to care for you. And he might, that's not for me to judge. But quite honestly, I don't think he understands the difference between wanting to acquire someone and really caring for them. He wanted you, but you were with someone else, so he took what I'm sure he felt were necessary steps to ensure your cooperation. Like a mission. I'm sure he didn't know how to approach it any other way.”

 

“I don't understand why he eliminated all my memories of Shiko, but didn't take away her memories of me,” Iruka says, glad something has occurred to him to shift the topic. “If he'd done that, he might not have ever been discovered—well, until I came in for these headaches, but he could have made up some justification, I'm sure. He could have wiped her brain and dropped her off in the desert. It would even make more sense to me if he'd just killed her. Why go through the trouble of faking a restraining order?”

 

The Hokage lets go of Iruka's hands and stands up, sighing. She walks over to the windowsill, staring out of it, through which he can see that sunset is just beginning to spread a pink veil over the Hokage Mountain. “I don't have those answers yet, Iruka-san. This investigation has only just begun.” She turns to him, demeanor businesslike and stern. “You've been compromised, Iruka-san, even if it was by one of our own. Until we gain a better understanding of what we're dealing with, I'm afraid I have no choice but to put you on suspension from duty. That means all duties, Iruka-san. No missions, no teaching, no missions desk, until further notice.”

 

Which means Iruka will have lots and lots of time to himself, battling with memories that don't belong and headaches that sometimes make him vomit. Maybe he can start training with Guy-san; that should eat up a lot of hours every day. He smothers a bark of hysterical laughter before it can escape. He focuses on the pain in his tongue, where he bit it. “I understand, Hokage-sama. What…will happen to Kakashi?” he asks reluctantly. Even if he doesn't know whether it's real, he still feels very strongly about Kakashi. He's never been good at turning his feelings off.

 

Tsunade looks back outside, face half-turned from him. “I don't know yet. We're trying to keep this under wraps, Iruka-san. If the council gets wind of this, Kakashi could be charged with treason.”

 

“Treason?!”

 

“In their minds, his tampering with your mind would be on par with sabotage. Since you are a nin, a defender of Konoha, sabotaging you is undermining Konoha's defenses. Thus, it's treasonous.”

 

Iruka bolts to his feet, hands clenched, fingernails digging into his palms. “Treasonous—that's absurd! I can still defend Konoha! I haven't been stripped of all my faculties, damn it!”

 

Tsunade pinches the bridge of her nose. “Iruka-san, calm down. This is hypothetical, and is only likely if the council gets wind of it, which they won't if I have anything to say about it. And unless we have another invasion, you won't be defending Konoha anytime soon. We don't know exactly what you have and haven't been stripped of, and neither do you.”

 

Iruka's teeth grind as he tries to get his heart rate back under control. Not every traitor is imprisoned, like Mizuki; some are quite brutally executed. The reasons for capital punishment throughout Konoha's history are always political, and the current council has been known to be both unreasonable and unfathomable. Iruka has no doubt they could put a monstrous spin on what Kakashi's done, for whatever reason, that they could cause him to be reviled by those who've always respected him, no matter that he's dedicated his life to Konoha. The thought makes Iruka feel like smashing Tsunade's desk into kindling, but he controls himself. “Forgive my outburst, Hokage-sama,” he says finally, bowing.

 

The sunset fills the office with ruddy light, bathing Tsunade in a healthy glow that makes her look even younger than her usual artifice does, but she still manages to convey a sense of age greater than her own. “Forgiven and forgotten, Iruka-san. I don't think it would do any good to keep you here under observation, so go home and get some rest now. Or go out and get so drunk you don't care about any of this. After all, you're off-duty now.”

 

Iruka chuckles half-heartedly. “I should probably save my money, if I'm going to be out of work for who knows how long.”

 

Tsunade makes a dismissive gesture. “I'm writing it up as paid leave. If the treasury wants to make a fuss about the budget, I'll just tell them to use what we won't be paying Hatake. So go have some fun. Not too much, though; I want you in Ibiki's office at T&I first thing in the morning, so we can begin discussing options.”

 

“Yes, Hokage-sama.”

 

Tsunade grants him a warm smile. “Now get out of here so I can drink—I mean, do my paperwork in peace.”

 

He knows the slip is intentional, and forces himself to grin. “Of course. Good evening, Hokage-sama.”

 

Iruka slips out into the quiet corridor and begins descending the stairwell. His footsteps are echoing, a sure sign that he is distracted, and when he realizes it he silences them instantly. But the silence allows too many thoughts to begin gathering in his mind. Before he knows it, he is running. Down the stairs, through the lobby—only moderately active now—along the street, up to the rooftops. He is on his way to the forest when he spots the lights and noise of a local bar. He notices Genma and Asuma sharing a pitcher of dark beer at a table by the curb, looking relaxed and content, listening to a band that is playing inside. The bar looks like it would be far more distracting than either the quiet of the forest or his empty apartment.

 

Without further ado, he jumps down to the street and joins the two jounin at their table.