Disclaimer:
Don't own Naruto, belongs to Kishimoto. Anything else – that we'll have to discuss.
Summary:
A scary insight into the workings of Konoha's interrogation expert and his relationship with a certain Anbu. Ignores after-timeskip plotline.
Warnings:
Certain themes and concepts that might make some people uncomfortable. Ibiki, after all, enjoys his work.
Cat and Mouse
As head of the Information department, he has the luxury of delegating most of the tasks he doesn't like. Like scouring blood from the walls of interrogation rooms. Or checking the credentials of civilians wanting to settle in Konoha. Or going to those boring status meetings with the Hokage, unless the old man specifically asks for him. Sadly though, he can only delegate a small part of his paper work.
Other tasks, he doesn't want to delegate. Like puzzling over the reports of Konoha's spies until a clear picture of the situation in other countries and hidden villages emerges. Or feeding other countries' spies with counter-intelligence. Or giving a few select Anbu their quarter-yearly psychology exam. After the Uchiha incident, he has made it mandatory for all Anbu to undergo such exams regularly to avoid a repeat event.
One of those Anbu he exams personally is the legendary Copy-cat Ninja. Oh, there are less than a dozen people that know that Hatake Kakashi has never really quit Anbu. Even when appointed to a genin team, the Wolf took the occasional one-night mission. Now that his three students have each found their own sannin, the Wolf is back to Anbu full-time.
This makes the Wolf the longest-serving Anbu in Konoha's history. And, with the inevitable psychological damage so many years in Anbu leave, one of the most interesting.
The Wolf's main way of dealing with his work is through countless masks and personas. Ibiki is fascinated with all of them: the Wolf, the Copy-cat Ninja, the Son of the White Fang, the Boy-Genius, the Pervert, and whatever else Hatake comes up with. They make Hatake so adaptable and resilient, letting nothing touch his true core of identity.
On the other hand, they also make him very elusive, hard to pin down and almost impossible to determine his frame of mind. Hatake's mandatory exams are always a monumental battle of wills, a struggle between two men who are forced to act on limited resources. Hatake is limited because he needs a 'pass' to continue his work as Anbu. Ibiki is limited because he isn't allowed to inflict any grave physical or psychological damage.
And they enjoy those moments of pitting their strength against each other.
Over years of their battles, they have begun to understand each other in ways no one else understands them. Perhaps it is because their needs are complementary, a smooth giving and taking that doesn't need words. Perhaps it is because both of them are so perceptive, masters of looking underneath the underneath.
Whatever it is – it has pulled them together until they support each other and push each other to new heights.
Hatake has learned that Ibiki likes it when he gets a tough nut to crack. The harder the better. Sometimes, Hatake takes a week off for his psychology exam to allow Ibiki to use a greater fraction of his skills. Those times, Hatake resists almost as if he were in enemy hands. There is a lot that Anbu medics can heal within a week.
Ibiki has learned that, sometimes, Hatake needs to know he still is a tough nut to crack. Whenever Hatake takes a week off for his psychology exam, the Wolf needs to be reassured that he can still keep Konoha's secrets safe. Those times, Ibiki treats him almost as if he were an enemy. There is not much Ibiki can get out of the Anbu within a week.
But it is their small games in between that Ibiki looks forward to the most. Those games are outside the mandatory quarter-yearly evaluations; those games go far beyond their professional relationship. Those games delve deeper into the rawness of human psyche than anything else Ibiki has ever seen.
It is Hatake's masks where their game of Cat and Mouse begins.
Hatake's masks are a two-edged sword. They are a barrier that keeps most of the world from touching his inner equilibrium. But they also are a barrier that keeps his core from venting the pressure upon it. Every once in a while, something manages to penetrate through those masks, and then it begins to bubble and fester in the darkness of his soul.
Sometimes, when Hatake catches it early enough, he appears on Ibiki's doorstep in the middle of the night, pale and shivering. Without questioning, Ibiki invites him in.
But not always does Hatake come to him first.
Whenever Hatake begins to withdraw and appears even later than his regular one to one and a half hours of delay, it is Ibiki who searches him out. During one of the following nights, he will appear on Hatake's doorstep, and Hatake will at first look surprised, then fearful. But in the end, Hatake will quietly follow him to the sound-proofed room in Ibiki's quarters that has been set aside for exactly this purpose.
When he has Hatake securely under lock and wrap, he begins to determine what the man needs.
Most of the times, Hatake merely needs a taste of pain or pleasure to let him know he is still human inside. That he can still feel. Ibiki understands that every Anbu has their own ways of keeping their balance, and this is Hatake's. Ibiki provides a safe outlet for that urge; he feels honored that Hatake trusts him enough to let him tend to his needs.
But then, there are times when mere pain or pleasure isn't enough to fix the man.
There are times when Hatake needs to be broken. When Hatake needs for his masks to be forcibly peeled back. When he needs somebody to accept him after revealing his innermost core. When he needs the freedom of letting go. Of not having to scheme and hide and pretend.
These are the times Hatake stays silent. He just stares at Ibiki through whatever punishment Ibiki inflicts on him, retreating further and further within himself. As soon as Ibiki realizes that pain alone doesn't work, he backs off and changes his approach to more subtle tactics. He methodically whittles Hatake down until nothing is left except for raw, primal awareness.
But, over time, Ibiki has come to question whether these sessions merely are about keeping Hatake operational. Sometimes, Hatake appears on his doorstep just at the right moment to become a welcome distraction from the stress of Ibiki's daily work. Sometimes, he has the feeling that Hatake deliberately winds himself tighter and tighter and appears later and later until Ibiki has a reason to try out new interrogation techniques.
More than once, Ibiki has wondered whether it is Ibiki satisfying Hatake's needs, or Hatake satisfying Ibiki's. Since both of them are masters of hiding underneath the underneath, he can never be certain just who is leading whom in their game of cat and mouse.
And that is part of its appeal.
Otherwise, their roles are very clear-cut. Ibiki always is the cat. He hunts the mouse, he catches the mouse, and then he feasts upon his prey. To the cat, it isn't important who initiates the hunt. It's important who finishes the hunt.
And so far the cat has always been the victor.
In his heart Ibiki knows this only is because the mouse cooperates, but when the chase begins, Ibiki doesn't really care that anymore. He becomes lost in the thrill of the hunt, of stalking prey. In the fearful eyes when the mouse realizes that there is nowhere left to run.
He has long ago made peace with the knowledge that he likes to inflict pain for no other reason than that he can. He likes the power it gives him over others. He especially likes it when he gradually exposes more and more of their secrets, what makes them tick, their innermost workings.
Most of all, he likes it when he can do it all for his own satisfaction. Not for information. Not for Konoha. For himself.
So once he catches it, he plays with his bony, grey mouse until it lies limp and panting, its mind shredded in agony, not enough will left to resist in any way. In those moments, he pets and strokes his mouse until it purrs, giving it a level of human contact it can't accept anytime else.
Later, when Hatake finds back to himself, Hatake pulls up his masks once again and closes himself off. The final sign that the Wolf is ready for duty is the piece of cloth he hides half his face behind. When it goes up, the cold Anbu returns.
They nod to each other and part in mutual respect. Until the next time Ibiki starts hunting his mouse.
A/N:
I'd love to get some feedback on Ibiki's character, whether he is OOC or not. Kakashi – him I blame on an overdose of fangirlism and submissive fantasies. Nonetheless, I hope that their relationship is at least somewhat plausible with Kakashi being not too much of a pansy. And that I managed to portray this relationship as mutual and consensual, even if the safe and sane characteristics are miles away…
Sakiku
