Well, it's been a while.
Not much to say but for the fact that we really want to write again and will be putting up those revamped chapters sporadically. No promises of being completely off hiatus, but we'll try! If you guys are still here, prepare for ridiculous amounts of appreciation being sent your way. And also, enjoy!
The figure sat propped against the headrest of the single bed, barely visible in the pre-dawn light. The even rise and fall of his slim chest suggested a state of deep slumber despite the uncomfortable position. This illusion was swiftly broken when a hand smoothly shot out and silenced the clock on his bedside table before the first beep of his alarm had finished sounding.
Being a teacher meant that Umino Iruka was used to the quiet hours of the day that preceded the sunrise. It was a usually at this time, listening the sounds of a city waking from its slumber, that he felt most at peace.
But today was not like other days, he mused, staring at his hands and trying to fight through the fog of sleeplessness in his head.
Today, so much could go wrong.
He slipped out of bed and went through his morning routine with the same, calm precision he'd always done, trying to ignore the bloodshot state of his eyes in the mirror and the way his hands shook when he poured himself his morning cup of coffee (black, no sugar). Steadying breaths kept him calm as he pulled on his uniform, his toneless humming barely wavering as he munched on slightly burnt toast.
Anything to distract himself from what was coming.
It's going to be fine, he mentally chanted, pulling chocolate-brown hair into his signature ponytail and gathering up his files. The sky had lightened to a deep blush by the time he stepped into the morning air, just slightly chilly for August. The fervor of his mantra increased as he got on the bus, swelling to a crescendo until it drowned out all other thoughts.
Twenty minutes later, he found himself standing outside the Kishimoto Shopping Plaza without really knowing how he got there. It loomed over him, seven storeys of colorful panels and flickering screens making it one of the most popular malls in the city, and seeing it so empty at this hour of the day was always mildly disconcerting. Making his way in through the back entrance, he greeted the security guard as he handed over his ID card for check in. The place was already teeming with staff, setting up their respective stores and prepping for the daily throng of customers. Iruka made a beeline for the service elevators, his steps consciously unhurried, nodding good morning at the familiar faces he passed. He threw in the occasional smile too, despite the rush he was in. And, as always, people smiled back.
He waved ahead a couple of electricians who were also waiting for the lift, making a big show of answering his phone as the doors slid open and pressing the button again after they'd gone. It was imperative that he made his journey alone. After stepping in, he punched for the lowest basement floor, and kept the elevator button pressed as he slid his identity card into a barely-noticeable slot below it. There was a minute pause before a deep whirring noise sounded from above and the lift began descending smoothly. When it finally came to a halt what seemed like an age later, the lift doors opened into, not an empty basement parking lot, but a dimly-lit corridor that stretched into distance; a stark contrast from the bright, bustling floor he had just left behind.
Iruka walked on.
The walls of the corridor were a rather off-putting shade of green, with spiderwebs of cracks fanning out from the corners. No one had ever bothered to change the color, or replace the sickly-yellow halogen lamps that hung above, it being the least of their worries. The soundproofing, however, remained top-notch. The even tap-tap-tap of Iruka's shoes was the only noise to cut through the precise silence.
It took forty-six evenly-spaced strides for him to reach a smooth metal doorway with no discernible handle. He juggled a few of the folders he was carrying to free his right hand, before pressing his palm to the steel surface. For a moment, there was no reaction. Then, a small green light over his head flickered to life, and went over his form twice. It changed to red, and the process was repeated. Another four seconds. Iruka waited.
The door gave a sudden, almost unnoticeable hiss, before it slid sideways out of sight allowing Iruka to step through into a tiny room, barely bigger than his cupboard back home. He held his breath as the door behind him shut silently, fighting down mild claustrophobia. The floor was a matte black platform, sunk into the ground by a few centimeters. The moment he stepped onto it, the box flickered to life, neon-blue lights running outwards from the center and up the walls. Strings of the same light criss-crossed above his head, forming a web that slowly descended. It swept over him once, then back up again. A light flashed green and the panel in front of him slid aside in the same manner.
Iruka was out so fast he nearly stumbled over his own feet. He sheepishly nodded at his colleagues seated in the room beyond – a lobby of sorts, with two desks on either side. It was soothing with its familiarity – the cream walls, the single yucca plant in the corner, a generic painting on the wall. The men sitting at the desks, however, were not.
"Morning," said Iruka, smiling politely at each of them in turn. They looked up and muttered a low, "Good morning, Iruka-san," in unison, before returning to their tried not to cringe at their no-nonsense manner. His mornings usually started out with friendly banter between him, Izumo and Kotetsu, but today the three of them had been assigned mission control duty, leaving these two - Keiji and Gorou, if he wasn't mistaken - to man the desks. It wasn't a very interesting job, not unless you had company.
With a sigh, he strode towards the large double doors embossed with their emblem - a stylized leaf circled by the initials H-L-S-S. Pushing his way through, he was immediately assaulted with the familiar sight of what looked uncannily like a bustling police station.
People in uniform scurried from desk to desk, while others barked orders into their telephones. Like him, most men and women wore the same standard uniform of a navy blue, full-sleeved shirt and dark pressed pants, similar to one worn by the security guards at the mall above them. Above the din, he could hear a familiar voice yelling from behind a set of closed oak doors that stood at the end of the busy hall. Despite the chaos, Iruka instinctually felt himself relaxing. He stood there for a moment, just allowing the routine madness to wash over him and soothe his frayed nerves.
"It's going to be alright," a voice sounded from beside him, and he turned to smile at the short, dark haired woman dressed in the trademark uniform of a medic.
"I hope so, Shizune-san," he sighed, not surprised that she had picked up on the subtle signs of worry in his expression.
She rolled her eyes, and gave an annoyed huff. "Genma kept me up till three in the morning today, going over all possible worst case scenarios. I had to knock him out to get him to sleep."
Iruka laughed. Genma's worry was understandable. The man was the head of security for the HLSS, and even when he wasn't a part of a mission, he could be seen nervously prowling the agency's floor, and occasionally barking orders at his unfortunate underlings. Today, Iruka observed, was no different. Not three tables away, a bandana-wearing, toothpick-chewing brunet could be seen talking to Raido in a low voice. Discussing their mission, by the looks of it.
"Genma-san needs to chill," Iruka assured her with a wry smile before he walked to his desk, aware of the irony of his words. Pot, kettle, black, he chided himself as he made quick work of dumping his files in piles for delegating, itching at the thought of someone else doing his work for him. He considered leaving instructions for his substitute on color-coded sticky-notes, but then dismissed the thought. He was already late to begin with. Giving his familiar cubicle one last look, he head to another elevator.
The missions control room, a level below, was not a flurry of activity like the office. Instead, there was a tangible thrum of nervous energy in the air, hidden by the deceptively calm actions of the officers on duty. Apart from the four of them assigned to today's mission, there were a few other cells at work, busy in their own cubicles, already muttering into their headpieces, while many others clicked away at their desktops.
"Late, Iruka-sensei?" a bored voice drawled, just as he stepped into their designated workspace for the day. Iruka turned to see the slouching figure of Shikamaru, lazily draped onto a swivel chair. His former student smiled at him. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were taking a leaf out of Kakashi-taichou's book."
Iruka gave a sudden, nervous laugh, and vigorously shook his head. "Ah, of course not. Not that book, anyway."
Shikamaru nodded, evidently only half paying attention,and turned back to his desk. He had three separate computers set up, and all of them were on. The first two screens were live-streaming CCTV feed from various street-cams outside a building, and the third had some sort of coding program set up, with letters flashing green. "They're already in position, sensei," he said, not looking back. "You should get to your place."
"Yessir," he said, grinning. He couldn't help the bubble of pride that gurgled in his stomach at watching his ex-student lead the mission. He would have gone through the usual it feels like only yesterday that you were six years old and sitting in my class speech if it weren't for the other two in the room.
"You ready for this, Iruka?" He was clapped on the shoulder hard from behind by his friend, Kotetsu, whose desk was already set up.
"Born ready," Iruka joked weakly, taking his place beside him. The third member of their group nodded at him from Kotetsu's other side, expression tight.
"Izumo's been eating my brains all morning," Kotetsu stage-whispered to Iruka, earning the pair a dirty look from the subject. "Apparently, his gut tells him something's gonna go wrong."
"They call it gut instinct for a reason," their bandana-wearing comrade snapped, folding his arms over his chest. It was clear that he was far more comfortable at their usual position at the entrance. The opportunity to work on this mission, however, was an honour and not something either of them were stupid enough to turn down.
"Alright, guys," Shikamaru called, ruffling his spiky ponytail, "headsets on. We've got a lot of work to do."
Despite being twelve years younger than them, Iruka noted, Izumo and Kotetsu had no qualms about listening to Shikamaru. It was a matter of respect, rather than seniority, and the teenager had certainly earned his place as the top techie of their agency. His genius IQ, combined with razor-sharp intellect and decision-making skills, made him the perfect tactician, and one of their best agents.
"Ah, this is going to be such a drag," Shikamaru muttered. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the boy open a separate Minesweeper window.
If only he wasn't so lazy.
Iruka settled into the desk closest to him and opened his laptop. While the display flickered to life, he slipped on a wireless headset, and tapped the mic. For a moment, there was nothing but static. Then, he heard a voice.
"Iruka?"
"Kurenai-san," he greeted. His computer now showed him the video feed from the nano-cam in her eye lenses. He did a visual check to make sure that everything he needed was up and running, sent a quick text-message from his mobile, and finally turned his full attention back to the woman on the other end of the line. "Ready to go?"
"Just give me the signal, sensei."
He turned and nodded at Kotetsu who cracked his knuckles loudly, then spoke into his mike, "Okay, kid. Make your move."
Kiba didn't know why it was always him who ended up disguised as a janitor, or a plumber, or a trash-collector, or whatever other blue-collarjob their missions called for - not that he minded the work itself, so much as how awful he looked in the jumpsuits. He knew better than to complain, though. Being a part of a team meant they all had their roles to fulfil, after all. And they wouldn't be much of an espionage team if they refused to play a little pretend every now and then.
He glared down at the offending garment, nose twitching as he recalled Shino and Hinata's vastly more dignified (and better fitting) clothes, and then up at the office building across the road. It towered over him, the letters 'MASARU CORP.' stamped obnoxiously across the modern steel and glass façade, stretching up to around fifty storeys.
Forty-eight, his brain automatically supplied the facts Shikamaru had drilled into them before they left.
"Okay, kid. Make your move," Kotetsu's voice sounded through the minute headpiece in his ear. It was so tiny that it was near invisible unless one were to peer right down his ear canal.
"Going in," Kiba replied, before slipping on his newly-crafted identity card. The blue cord felt like a noose around his neck and he found it a little hard to breathe. Infiltration missions were always nerve-wracking, no matter how experienced he was.
"Remember, it's a quick in-and-out mission, Kiba," Shikamaru's lazy drawl crackled in his ear. "If everything goes according to plan, you can be out of there in twenty minutes."
"Yeah, yeah," Kiba muttered. "Get in there, get the Sphere, leave. I remember."
Shaking off his pre-performance jitters, he sauntered in through staff entrance and flashed the middle-aged security guard a blinding smile as he handed over his card.
"Hey, man. Kurosawa Daisuke." He thumbed the name-tag on his jumpsuit. "I'm taking over for Bunya-san for the week. He's down with the measles, poor guy."
Then for good measure, he grimaced.
The bored expression on the security guard's face didn't even flicker as he waved Kiba in through the metal detectors. The teenager stepped between them without hesitation. He had way too much confidence in Shino's inventive skills to worry about any of their tech getting caught in a scan. Not that he'd ever tell him that to his face.
One he was past, he raised his arms and allowed himself to be frisked thoroughly. A glance over the man's shoulder revealed his fake identity being pulled up on his computer screen. A bar below his name flashed green, indicating the lowest level of security clearance, but Shikamaru had assured him that the card would get him through any door in the facility.
An entire week's worth of memorizing maps made him able to stroll through the service entrance with genuine nonchalance, hands stuffed in the pockets of his ugly jumpsuit. Kiba walked past the other workers, smiling only briefly and making sure not to show his teeth. While Ino had managed to cover up the red tattoos on his face with makeup, his canines couldn't be hidden, and he'd refused her offer to file them down. Sticking to closed-mouth smiles was a much better alternative.
He got out his janitor's trolley. It was about the size of a regular pushcart, with a mop and pail built into it, and holders for various rags and sprays. The first time Kiba had to wheel around one of these things, he'd almost been impressed by how handy it was. With a grunt, he pushed it through the white-hallways and towards the door that would lead to the office floor.
A hand on his shoulder brought him to an abrupt halt, and Kiba looked up to see a tall, balding man staring down at him. He frowned, and snatched up the ID card hanging around his neck.
Kiba held his breath, though the expression on his face was one of barely-concealed annoyance. If there was a problem, Shikamaru would tell him. Or not. The lazy asshole was probably playing Minesweeper.
"Bunya's replacement, huh?" the man said finally, looking up. He seemed suspicious.
Kiba scowled. "Yeah. He's got the measles, and I've got some floors to mop. Got a problem?"
"Kiba," came a warning voice in his ear – whether it was Shikamaru or Kotetsu, he couldn't tell – but he ignored it, and stared down the other man until he dropped the ID.
"Start from the bottom, work your way up," he said gruffly. "Office spaces only, and not between the cubicles. Steer clear of the hallways –Kyuri-san's got those."
Kiba grinned and saluted. "Thanks -"
"Shoyu," Kotetsu supplied.
"- Shoyu-san," Kiba continued, not missing a beat, before wheeling the cart through the doors. It was only when he was in the office space, watching the suits scurry about, that he slumped forward and groaned.
"Ah, I fucking hate housework."
"Language," Kotetsu said, though he sounded more amused than cross. "Alright, kid. Start planting those bugs."
Nestled between Masaru Corp. and another obnoxiously tall office tower was an extravagant apartment block, nearly twenty storeys high. It was home to several people who worked In the area, the location being convenient and rather prestigious. A lithe, black-clad figure stood on its roof, watching through a set of binoculars as Kiba strode into the building. Her position was strategic – thanks to the buildings on either side, long shadows were cast over the comparatively miniscule structure, rendering her presence there almost invisible.
A tiny tinkle sounded from the burner phone in her hand, and she thumbed the message notification.
The words 'Please reconsider' popped up on her screen.
She gritted her teeth and steeled herself against the sudden swell of conflicting emotions in her chest. Snapping to action, the woman walked to where a laptop sat on a metal desk near the fire escape stairs, gravel crunching under her boots. She quickly keyed in a few commands, then proceeded to press a button on her ear piece.
"Akuma. He's in. You've got ten minutes."
"Got it, Senshi."
In the distance, she could hear the faint hum of a helicopter and she felt a jolt of nerves. She quickly switched channels on her headset.
"Yurei?"
"I'm in position. Leave it to me."
Satisfied that her partners would be up to the task, she embarked on her own, her fingers now a blur over the keyboard. Her mouth was a grim slash of determination, though it couldn't be seen through the mask she wore. Only young eyes were visible, and a furrowed brow. The expression soon cleared, and she let that familiar, professional calm overtake her mind.
There was no room for second-thoughts.
Not ten minutes after Kiba entered, a tall, well-dressed man walked through the doors of Masaru Corp., followed closely by a pretty young lady. They were dressed somewhat similarly – him, in a pinstriped navy suit, and her in a slightly darker skirt, paired with a white blouse. He strode purposefully up to the front desk. The receptionist, who was busy clicking away at her laptop, looked up with a smile as he cleared his throat. "Good morning, sir. How may I help you?"
The man's eyes seemed to be boring into her from behind his dark glasses. "My name is Yoshida Hitoshi from Yoshida Medicals." He gestured to the woman behind him. "This is my secretary, Tanaka Ami. I have an appointment with Yamada-san of the Healthcare department."
The secretary's smile never slipped. She was used to these businessmen-sorts with their impassive faces and aloof manners, though this one seemed to be a tad more intense than most. A few clicks at her computer screen brought up Yamada-san's itinerary for today and, true to his word, Mr. Yoshida had an appointment an hour from now.
"It's good of you to come, Yoshida-san," she said, standing up and gesturing to a man that stood a few feet away. He immediately approached them. "You're meeting will take place in Conference Room Four, on the thirty-second floor. Hiro-san -" The man standing nearby nodded his head. "- will escort you. Yamada-san will be with you in an hour."
Yoshida Hitoshi didn't even give a nod of consent to this, but turned to follow their escort to the lift. His secretary, however, turned around and thanked the receptionist with a short bow, her long dark hair briefly forming a curtain around her gentle face, before following her employer.
The trip towards the elevator and into it was a silent one. It was obvious that wherever Hiro went, important people followed, for all the employees of Masaru Corp. scuttled aside to make way for them. Their escort entered the lift first, held it open for the businessman and his secretary, and pressed his ID card to a sensor. There was a green flash of light, and he touched the number 32 on the steel elevator wall. It took ten seconds for them to reach, and another forty to enter the conference hall.
"Yamada-san is in a meeting at the moment but will be here in time for your appointment," said Hiro, smiling genially at the man and woman. "Until then, if there's anything you need, feel free to buzz me."
Once more, the businessman stayed quiet while the secretary voiced her thanks. Hiro spared them one last smile before turning and walking away.
The woman turned her pale grey eyes to her employer as he pulled his laptop out and set it up on the conference table.
A few moments of silence passed, and then -
"The camera is disabled. Go."
There was an immediate flurry of movement. The woman moved forward and shut the door, before pressing a small metal square to the jamb. It was a simple motion detector; one that would give them a warning if anyone came within twenty feet of the room. By the time she turned around, her partner was rapidly typing away at his computer.
"Is Kiba-kun done?" Hinata asked.
"He's scattered a few of the bugs," Shino replied. Their teammate, currently disguised as a janitor ('Why me?' he had groaned, when Tsunade-sama had briefed them), was movingthrough the building, discretely dropping little metal spheres. An invention of Shino's, they unfurled and became tiny steel spiders with micro-cameras for eyes, and scuttled about to their designated vantage points. Shikamaru might have been the agency's best techie, but Shino was one hell of an engineer.
Hacking the entire tower's security feed might have raised alarms, so it was imperative that they got in first and then gave Shikamaru eyes on the inside. After Kiba was done dropping the bugs, he'd head over to the security mainframe and give the HLSS Missions Control team access to all of the security measures in Masaru Corp., instead of the select few that they were able to control at the moment.
Hinata nodded at this, then took up her position beside the door, arms hanging loosely by her side. To a casual passer-by, she may have appeared to be simply waiting for someone, but hidden in the relaxed stance of her limbs was the ability to drop a man with a few well-placed jabs. Her record was sixteen men in under three minutes, something that surprised even the people who knew her well.
Shino watched in satisfaction as tiny red blips popped up on his screen, each a bug Kiba had managed to drop. A couple of keystrokes had them all scurrying to their positions, and Shino pulled up a grid of video feeds from the corridors around the control rooms. Now all that was left to do was to retrieve the Sphere. His role, however, was limited to surveillance and disabling security, while Hinata would guard him until Kurenai-taichou required her as backup.
The steady clicking of Shino's fingers paused as a muffled thump sounded from behind him. The two agents whipped around in alarm, tensing when they saw the top of a head appear at the windows that ran along the wall. Shino immediately turned his laptop to the side, hiding the screen from view.
The head continued to ascend, offering a view of a pale face obscured by a white dust mask and tinted cleaning goggles. He had a dark bandana tied around his head under a regulation helmet and Hinata huffed a nervous laugh when a blue jumpsuit and harness came into view. The bosun's chair he sat on swayed a bit as he pulled it level with their window and braced himself with his feet. The bucket of soapy water hanging from it bumped against the building façade, and the paunchy man leant down to adjust it with agloved hand.
"Who is that?" Izumo asked sharply.
"Just a window cleaner," Shino answered, eyes still on the man who hadn't even looked at them.
"Okay, let him do his work, and you do yours. He won't be able to see you through that glass. It's reflective."
Shino nodded, an continued his monitoring his laptop screen, but Hinata couldn't seem to look away. Reflective glass aside, it almost looked like he was staring right at her as he hung there, wiping the windows lazily. There was something about this situation that felt strangely off, but she couldn't seem to put her finger on it. Shaking her head, she turned her attention to her teammate. His silent determination fueled her own. Team 8 was often considered the support squad – used for extracting wounded comrades and backup. Yes, they were incredibly important for the smooth functioning of the Leaf-9 as a seamless unit, but it was nice to be sent on a solo mission for a change. Screwing it up was not an option.
"Izumo-san," she said, knowing he could hear her, "is Kurenai-taichou in place?"
"She's already inside. Get ready, Hinata-chan, you'll be up soon."
The security guard patrolling the corridor stopped in his tracks as a dapper young man he didn't recognize walked up to him. That floor happened to be a restricted one, considering it housed the main security control-room and several other service systems, and any breach was to be reported immediately. The man had barely lifted the walkie-talkie to his mouth when a fist hit him in the face hard enough to knock him out.
"Akuma. I gave you those tranquilizer pins for a reason."
"Sorry, Senshi," he muttered, sounding mildly contrite. "He went for the radio and I just figured it was faster."
A resigned sigh crackled through his earpiece. "You're lucky I jammed the cams on this floor. For God's sake, stay low key from now on, okay?"
Akuma grunted an affirmative as he grabbed the fallen man by his shoulders and heaved him into a janitor's closet to the side. Dusting his hands, he continued his journey towards the security mainframe.
Kurenai stood in the doorway of the helicopter as it approached the target building. The roof was clear of any security, something that Shikamaru had calculated and accounted for, but her eyes were drawn to a slight figure suspended by the side of the building by a frail harness. It swung as he scrubbed at the windows a few floors below the roof, and despite all her training, Kurenai couldn't suppress a shiver.
God, she hated heights.
"There's a window cleaner hanging there," she muttered into her mic, watching as he hoisted himself up higher.
"Yes, we've noted him," Iruka's voice issued in her ear, sounding vaguely uneasy. "You reach the roof approximately eleven minutes before him. Don't delay, just get the Sphere. If you happen to encounter him on your way out... Um, well, it shouldn't be any trouble to subdue him."
Kurenai nodded, and swallowed as she stepped over the door and paused with one foot on the skids. The chopper kept moving, flying as low as it could without causing alarm. The building would be under them in three, two -
Kurenai jumped.
To her credit, despite her acrophobia, she landed perfectly and rolled to her feet in one smooth motion. There had been barely a sound, and she already knew that if things had gone as planned, Shikamaru would have the security cameras and any additional sensors on the roof disabled. A creak of wire snapped her attention to where the window-cleaner's seat was anchored, and she resisted the strong urge to go check how close he was to the top before she turned and hurried into the fire-escape stairwell.
As she descended, she lifted a hand to her headset. "I'm on the roof. Report positions."
"Floor Twenty-eight. Most bugs in position. I'll hit the mainframe in five. Wait for Shino's signal."
"Floor Thirty-two. I'll head up as soon as Kiba-kun finishes," Hinata's soft lilt followed.
"Standing by," Kurenai replied. "Initiate Phase Three: Extraction of the Sphere."
A/N: As before, we're very excited to be having a go at this again, despite the long break and our respective hectic schedules, and we hope you enjoy the ride. As always, read and review!