Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ What He Wants ❯ Part 8 ( Chapter 8 )

Part 8

 

 

“How many pictures can this thing take?” Iruka asks, looking at the counter on the back of the camera. It started at zero, going on three hours ago, and now reads `1456'.

 

Pakkun yawns and looks up at him blearily. “Dunno,” he mumbles. “K'kashi once said you could take a picture of every leaf on every tree in Konoha with that camera and still be able to make a record of every woman who entered the hot springs for a month.” The dog cocks his ear as a vein stands out on Iruka's forehead. “Or maybe it was Jiraiya who said that. The boss got the camera from him, you know.”

 

Iruka sighs and shakes his head. “I'm sorry I asked. I'm surprised there wasn't an Icha Icha peeping collection on this already.”

 

“There might've been. The boss would have had those printed up a long time ago, though. Say, are you finished yet?”

 

“Just about.” Iruka flips a page in the last book and snaps a shot of it. These books are really eating up the time. There are only four of them, but they each have a few hundred pages, and Iruka doesn't know what pages are relevant. Everything is in code, as well, from the scrolls to the loose documents to the tomes, which doesn't help. He's a pretty decent code-breaker and knows a lot of the basic Konoha codes by heart, since he has to teach them. However, it seems as though each document is encrypted with a different code, and none of the codes are basic. Some of them look like older, obsolete codes and others look as though they originated outside Fire Country. The rest are unlike anything he's ever seen before. It would take him hours just to decode one of the encryptions enough to make sense of what he was reading.

 

His shoulders slump a little as he snaps shots of the rest of the book. He desperately wants to know what it is that he's photographing. T&I will be able to find that out a hell of a lot faster and easier than he would struggling down here on his own, but of course they're not guaranteed to tell him everything. Hell, they're not guaranteed to tell him anything. T&I's policy has always seemed to Iruka to be `if you don't need to know it, we'll bite our tongues off before we tell you, and your tongue too if we can manage it'. Plus, their definition of `need to know' is notoriously narrow. Most likely the only way he'll get any information is if Tsunade-sama takes pity on him and tells him herself, or if he can get back in here with some code-breaking and encryption resources. Unlikely, considering there will definitely be ANBU stationed here around the clock, for now.

 

Finally he takes the last picture, closes the book and powers down the camera. He glances at the origami dolphin that bears his name, lying innocuously on the table where it landed when he brushed it aside earlier. He means to just leave it there, but suddenly the thought of leaving this stupid little perfectly-folded dolphin down here in the dark, this little piece of processed tree art that Kakashi made for him, is completely unbearable. He thinks it's probably because he doesn't know when—or possibly if—he'll see Kakashi again, but it doesn't really matter why.

 

Now that he's started thinking about this, Iruka can't make himself stop. He's finished what he came here to do, but he doesn't want to leave. This is a place where Kakashi has obviously spent many hours, days, maybe weeks; beneath the coffee and the dust of old paper Iruka can even smell him, the oiled leather and metal scent of shinobi with the tree-bark musk and ozone of his skin. Iruka can almost feel Kakashi's phantom arms sliding around his waist from behind, his chin resting on Iruka's shoulder, his hair tickling Iruka's cheek.

 

Iruka's knees feel weak, and he presses his hands onto the table to steady himself. He wishes fiercely that Kakashi had wiped out Shiko's memory, wiped out her parents' as well, along with anyone who'd known that she and Iruka were together, and that he'd just decided to live with his damn headaches, so that none of this would ever have come to light. It's ridiculous to want something like that; it's completely unfair to himself, Shiko, and everyone except Kakashi, but he wants it anyway. Even if he only feels this way because Kakashi's forced him to, it's intense enough that fighting it makes him feel like he's ripping himself into pieces.

 

“You okay, Sensei?” Pakkun inquires. “You're kinda spacing out, there.”

 

Iruka had forgotten about him. He brings himself around, forcing out a shaky smile. “Oh, fine, Pakkun. Just tired, is all.” He grits his teeth and grabs the paper dolphin off the table, shoving it in his pocket. The pug gives him a knowing look, and Iruka turns his back so he can't meet Pakkun's eyes. “I'm done now, so let's go.” He takes a step forward, then pauses and looks down to where Pakkun has just jumped off the table. “Why are you still here, anyway? You could have left already, you know.”

 

“Kakashi asked me to hang around, make sure everything goes smoothly. Plus he wants me to report back to him, and they're not likely to let him summon me again just to find out how you're doing.”

 

“What exactly are you going to report to him?”

 

That must have come out sounding a bit more menacing than Iruka meant it to, because Pakkun backs away a few steps and asks, “Is there something you don't want me to tell the boss, Sensei?”

 

It's a good question, really. “Wouldn't you have to tell him if he ordered you to, whether I want you to or not?”

 

Pakkun bursts out laughing, which startles Iruka into reaching for a weapon. “No, no, it doesn't work like that. Summons aren't enslaved to our summoners, you know; we just work together. If you tell me you don't want me to tell the boss something, I won't.”

 

“Oh. That's good to know.” Iruka is about to say that Pakkun shouldn't tell Kakashi anything except the basic mission debriefing information, but realizes that will just end up making trouble for the dog. He doesn't care about upsetting Kakashi, but he doesn't like it that Pakkun's caught in the middle of this, and Iruka doesn't want to make things harder for him. Anything Pakkun would say Kakashi could probably guess anyway, so after a moment Iruka grinds out, “Just don't tell him I kept his stupid dolphin,” and stomps back to the elevator.

 

Pakkun follows him after a moment, looking a bit nonplussed. “Uh, sure, Sensei. Whatever you say.”

 

***

 

Iruka is lying on his bed listening to the rain pouring down. It's mid-afternoon, but it's as dark as dusk outside. The white noise fills his head, pushing out coherent thoughts as he drifts in and out of a doze. He can't sleep properly, even though he's been awake for almost thirty-eight hours.

 

Ibiki had not been happy when Iruka emerged from the house. The T&I head hadn't been expecting Iruka to take anywhere near that long to finish documenting the scrolls, and was extremely frustrated with their inability to disarm the disintegration trap around the house. They couldn't even locate its source. When Iruka gave Ibiki his debriefing and handed over the camera, Ibiki seemed astounded by the number of documents Kakashi had set aside for Iruka to record. When he looked over the shot previews on the back of the camera so that he could see what kind of codes he was going to be dealing with, after scrolling through about four or five images he looked up at the overcast sky and mumbled, “Maybe I could become a glass-blower. Or tame lions in the circus. Circus people have a fun life, right?”

 

After consulting with a couple of his ANBU, Ibiki had informed him that it would definitely take a lot more time to decode the information than he'd thought, and thus his meeting with Iruka would have to be delayed until they put all the information together.

 

Iruka wonders what would have happened if Kakashi had not told them about the scrolls, and the Hokage and Ibiki had just gone ahead and tried to fix his memories blindly. Is Kakashi trying to make things easier for him, or harder? It hardly seems likely that he'd go through all the trouble of screwing with Iruka's head, and then just hand over the instructions to undo his work. It must be what Pakkun had guessed earlier, that Kakashi isn't worried about anyone being able to undo what he's done, and it doesn't matter if anyone reads through his research or not. That, or Kakashi is just amusing himself and Ibiki is wrong about him not putting Iruka in harm's way. Iruka doesn't know which is more likely, since he has no way of crediting what he thinks he knows about the man.

 

What he remembers hearing from others about Kakashi doesn't make the issue any clearer. He knows Naruto respects Kakashi—loves him, even—despite complaining about his constant lateness and perving over Icha Icha. Sakura has expressed similar feelings, and in particular was touched when Kakashi proclaimed that he'd never let his teammates die. An admirable sentiment, if foolish and dangerous for a shinobi to make. To Kakashi's credit, no teammates of his had been killed since, though Iruka rather suspects that has more to do with their own merits than Kakashi not `letting' them die.

 

Even Sasuke—poor misguided, manipulated, desperate Sasuke—had looked up to Kakashi, as much as the kid would allow himself to look up to anyone. Maybe it should be unclear whether that said something good or bad about Kakashi, but Iruka can't help thinking that Kakashi had been almost as good for Sasuke as Naruto had been. If a few of the variables had been just a little different—if Sasuke hadn't found out Itachi was going after Naruto, if the Sound Four hadn't arrived the same day Naruto and Sasuke fought on the roof of the hospital, if Sakura had alerted them that Sasuke was going to try to leave the village that night instead of going after him by herself…

 

If, if, if. Iruka is getting off track.

 

He abruptly remembers what Kakashi had said at their infamous pre-Chuunin exam confrontation, about how ruining his students would be interesting. He'd claimed it was a joke, but Iruka remembers how his blood had run cold at the look in Kakashi's eye when he'd said it. Even if that look and that statement had been just for Iruka's benefit and didn't have anything to do with Kakashi's `subordinates', it is difficult to tell what that reveals.

 

Iruka sighs and shakes his head. That memory doesn't prove anything except that Kakashi is a manipulative son of a bitch with a weird sense of humor, which isn't news to any ninja above genin. At least it is a memory Iruka is confident is real. His head doesn't hurt too much when he thinks about it, and he can't start doubting memories that happened that long ago or he'll go mad.

 

There is a knock on his door. Iruka considers just letting it go—if it's important, the person won't stop with just knocking on the door unless it's Shiko, and he doesn't want to see her again today—but decides he really needs the distraction.

 

He shuffles into his little foyer, still muzzy with the sound of rain, but his head clears when he opens the door and almost gets his eye poked out by Genma's senbon. “Genma-san?”

 

The special jounin grins widely. “Hey, Sensei! Heard you weren't in class today, and someone said your mission shifts are being covered, too. You sick?”

 

Genma's posture is casual, otiose, but just by being here he gives himself away. He's never come to Iruka's house, probably didn't even know where he lives before today, and though Iruka is devoted to his work he has been sick or injured before. He's pretty sure if he mentions that, Genma's response will be that he feels a bit responsible for him not feeling well since he bought Iruka so many drinks last night. Which would be a complete lie, and Iruka doesn't want to hear it. What is far more likely is that there are rumors going around about himself and Kakashi, since Kakashi was detained yesterday and today Iruka is off-duty indefinitely. Probably some very unsavory rumors, at that, or Genma wouldn't have bothered going out of his way to find Iruka at home. He doesn't flatter himself that Genma has much interest in his well-being; the man probably couldn't get access to Kakashi and is working the next-best angle. He won't insult Genma by assuming it's just idle curiosity—ninja need to know who they can trust and how far, especially their comrades.

 

Trust is very important to a ninja. Shinobi who can't trust anyone usually either become useless, or become missing-nin.

 

“Sensei?” Genma's eyes lose a little of their feigned indifference.

 

Iruka sighs internally. He's spacing out entirely too much. “What've you heard, Genma-san?” he asks, slouching against the doorframe and crossing his arms across his chest.

 

Thankfully, Genma doesn't insult him by playing dumb. “We shouldn't talk out here,” he says crisply.

 

Iruka nods and backs up into his flat. Genma follows, quickly shedding his shoes.

 

“Tea?” Iruka asks, hoping his visitor will cut to the chase.

 

He isn't disappointed. “I'm sure you've figured out this isn't a social call, Iruka-sensei.” There is a very hard edge to his voice that makes Iruka curious as to what sort of rumors are going around. “You probably can't tell me any details, but I want you to tell me whatever you can.”

 

Iruka raises a brow. Tell you whatever I can about what, exactly? “Um…why don't you tell me what you're thinking, first?”

 

“I don't know what to think. That's the problem. First Kakashi gets taken in by Ibiki, and then this morning you're running around with Pakkun, and then I find out you've been taken off all duties. No one can get in to see Kakashi, and no one can get any sort of info on why he's being held to begin with. It's obvious you have some kind of connection with this, but no one can find anything out about that, either.”

 

Iruka's head has begun to throb once again. He considers sitting down, but doesn't want to since Genma is still standing. Settling for leaning against the wall, he says, “And what made you think I'd tell you anything you didn't already know?”

 

Genma takes the senbon out of his mouth and twirls it in his fingers. “Have you been ordered not to say anything?”

 

“I don't have to be. You know that.”

 

“I've heard rumors among some of the chuunin that I never gave any credit to before today,” Genma continues. “They said you and Kakashi had been seen together several times these past few weeks. There was some speculation about whether you two were an item.”

 

Iruka really wishes he'd just left the door unanswered, though that would just have postponed this conversation instead of avoiding it altogether. Genma can be a persistent little shit. Iruka doesn't want to talk to him about any of this, but he doesn't want to make an enemy, either.

 

“Ordinarily,” Genma goes on, “I would say that there's no way Kakashi would waste his time with an ordinary chuunin for anything other than a joke or a one night stand, but you're not exactly an ordinary chuunin.”

 

Iruka is perplexed by that statement. Of course he's an ordinary chuunin; what the hell does Genma mean by that? And, `wasting time'? What's Genma got against chuunin? Special jounin's only a rank above them. Iruka never realized Genma was such a snob.

 

“In this case,” the jounin concludes, sticking his senbon back between his teeth, “I have to ask, if the rumors have any truth to them, what you are doing wasting your time with someone like Kakashi?” Genma's voice is laced with scorn, and it doesn't seem to be directed at Iruka.

 

“What do you mean, someone like Kakashi?” Iruka snaps, bristling. “What the hell are you getting at?”

 

Genma's eyes widen. “Fuck,” he breathes. “So it's true.”

 

Iruka nearly slaps his forehead. He's just been so easily played, it's embarrassing.

 

Well, after this loss of face, there's no point in keeping up the pretense of a struggle for the dominant position in the room. Iruka ambles over to his couch and flops down on it, rubbing his temples. “It's not nearly as simple as it sounds,” he mutters.

 

He hears Genma cross the room, feels his weight settle on the couch next to him. “Nothing involving that guy is ever simple,” Genma responds, and Iruka is glad to note that all the harshness has left his voice. “The two of you are in trouble?”

 

Iruka shakes his head, waving the question away. Genma's a shinobi; he'll understand Iruka's refusal to discuss the matter openly, though it might not dissuade him from trying to gain information through subterfuge or other means. “What was that shit about `ordinary chuunin', huh?” he asks, to change the subject.

 

“Heh.” The special jounin scratches at his nose, a little abashed. “I didn't mean anything by it, Iruka-sensei. Both your humility and your pride are too easy to manipulate.”

 

“Hmph. You got me on a bad day, is all,” Iruka mutters.

 

“Sensei, I know we've never been really close, but I do consider us friends,” Genma says solemnly. “You and Kakashi both. I hope you know me well enough to know that I'll do whatever I can to help you, if you need it.”

 

Iruka would like to believe Genma is being completely sincere and altruistic, but he can't. He likes Genma well enough, but he's been on a few recon missions with him and knows that when Genma wants information, he can turn into whoever he needs to be to get it.

 

Before he can think of a suitably courteous yet evasive reply, there is another knock on his door. It's the Morse code for ANBU, so there is no question of whether to answer it or not. “I seem to be wildly popular today,” Iruka sighs as he hauls himself off the couch and shuffles to the door.

 

An ANBU in a mask that resembles a turtle is standing at the door. “The Hokage requests your presence, Umino Iruka.”

 

“Be right there,” Iruka replies. He turns to Genma, who has already risen and is pulling on his shoes. “Thanks for stopping by, Genma.”

 

“Sure, sure.” Genma crosses his arms, eyeing the ANBU in the doorway. “I'll be keeping an eye out for you, Sensei. Let me know if things get out of hand.”

 

With that, he teleports away.

 

Iruka steps outside and locks his door, then begins the hand seals to teleport to the Hokage's tower, but the ANBU holds out a hand. “Please allow me.”

 

Shrugging, Iruka drops his hands and waits, allowing the ANBU to transport them directly into the Hokage's office.