Stacks of papers stirred slightly as the breeze from the ceiling fan buffeted the room. The circulation of air did little to relieve the sultry heat of the summer afternoon. Heavy thoughts are worst on hot days. The mind, so much like one's vision, takes on a certain haze in hot temperatures, thinking becomes laborious and the mind wanders far too easily.
Ibiki had long taken off the scarf covering his scarred head, but it did not help cool him and the sweat freely falling from his bald scalp rolled down his neck to the collar of his unbuttoned shirt. As bad as the days were, somehow the night felt worse, especially these last few nights. Tempers had a way of raising temperature and nobody in all of Konoha had a bigger one than his wife Tayuya's. That would have been bad enough but then the surveillance teams brought him this.
Photographs, time charts, Anbu guards found away from their posts and with no recollection of the night before. The photos were poor quality but they reflected a certain pattern. Late night rendezvous with young men of Konoha. Hyuuga Neji, Inuzuka Kiba, Akimichi Chouji, Aburame Shino, even young Sarutobi Konohamaru. He paused on one photograph which showed Shikamaru and Tayuya sneaking into a building. For some reason his eye caught on a cigarette in the boy's hand. The nights were so hot, how could one stand smoking on nights like these?
It didn't add up, but in his line of work things rarely made sense. That's why people had to be helped to find the truth. Nobody ever had enough pieces to see the whole picture, but each puzzle must begin with a construction of the border. Without a proper frame of reference you can see the patterns, but not the context.
A bottle of sake sat on the window sill, best drunk hot it was most likely at the proper temperature to enjoy, but a drink was unlikely to cut through the shadows creeping through his thoughts like vines up a wall.
Was she unhappy? Was she working on something secret? Their conversations had grown distant of late, the last cold he had felt was the shoulder she turned to him. He remembered coming home drunk that one night, the morning after was the first in so many years he had woken up alone. As good as he was at asking questions in an interrogation, she simply smiled her smile that hid so much and said nothing had happened. Yet her newly applied makeup made him suspect a different story.
He looked at his hands and remembered more than one bar fight when he was younger and impulsive. Nobody had suspected the usually quiet man to go into unprovicated rage while intoxicated. Had she seen something that night? Something that made her…
"This is ridiculous." He finally said aloud to himself. Grabbing the bottle he put it in a locked drawer in his desk and shut it up. "Violent drunk maybe, but I'm no green-tights wearing boy." Rubbing his jaw he smiled at the times when, shinobi or not, bartenders would beat him in a fight when he got out of line. "Even if I did go out of control, the way she is I doubt I even laid a finger on her."
Doubt remained, but he pushed it aside. Finishing his work for the day, he took the folder and pictures with him to ask his wife about that night. His father was a stern man, but mother adored him. He never gave a lot of fatherly advice, but he always remembered. "Son, if you ever bring work home; bring some flowers too as an apology."
All that greeted him and his flowers at home was a note on the fridge saying she was not going to be home until early morning. The note joined the flowers and folder on the table; he didn't bother to close the door all the way behind him.
The first one he found was Akimichi Chouji, eating a bag of chips while sitting on the bag of an unconscious Anbu. No, it was really Inuzuka Kiba dressed as an Anbu. There was something fishy about all this. If they were really on look out, Kiba's sense of smell would have picked him up.
An old textile factory was tonight's favored spot. Linen bandages for field dressings were made here, but this one was shut down after the last war and was used primarily for storage now.
The direct approach was the best one. Sneaking in through a side window might not seem the direct approach to any other jealous husband, but for a shinobi it was a classic method. Silently he found the one room with lights and opened the door to find a sight he had not expected.
She stood, wearing a black leather suit, whip in hand and circled the younger Sarutobi stripped to nothing but a blindfold and his boxers and tied to a chair. A small table to the side held scrolls and several odd things he was most unfamiliar with. One looked like a bell.
"Well then, are you going to give me what I want, or are you going to make this hard?" That smirk that crossed her lips, a sneer that showed her twisted satisfaction. His heart raced and his blood burned at the sight of her.
She placed her hand against Konohamaru's chest and leaned in close to his ear, whispering softly and softly gliding her tongue along his lobe. Pursing her lips she blew into his ear, causing him to gasp and cry out. Standing up she walked over to the table and whipped something on the table which sent out a clear sound. A bell?
"Now I'm only going to ask you this once. What's your secret, little man?" Her hands pinched his ears and pulled them lightly.
The young man spoke in a state of shock, his jaw set and the pulse in his neck dropped from a high rate to low in an instant. Hypnosis? The tone of voice confirmed the suspicion, flat and unwavering. "Code word: Hegemony." Letting go of his ears, his state returned to normal and she took the blindfold off.
"Well that's as uncreative a secret word as I ever heard? Who is picking these for you? Neji? Let Shino pick the next one, he seems more the type for cryptic ciphers." Walking to the table she threw a bundle at the younger man, the suspicious package once opened revealed his… clothes.
"Okay, I guess the games for tonight are over. Get dressed and clean up in here, and on your way out be sure to hit Chouji and Kiba for being idiots." Her vision clearly passed over the darkness where Ibiki was standing. "You can come out now, oh sneaky husband of mine." Konohamaru yelped at the sight of Ibiki emerging from the shadows. Quickly buckling his pants he bowed out and ran from the room. "Aww, he's nervous. Isn't that cute?"
"Care to explain yourself wife?"
"Care to have a seat?" She motioned to the chair that looked damp from the boy's sweat. His unmoving expression gave her the hint she needed. "Very well. You caught me, so I suppose I should start. The truth is that you are the one to blame for all this."
"I'm the one to blame?"
"Of course. Weren't you the one who encouraged me to find the way to fit into this little town? Find something I was good at?"
"This is what you think your calling is?"
"I suppose you could call it the family business." Ibiki was unsure how to take that comment. Her tone was serious, but hinted of… innuendo?
"What are you talking about?" No longer in the mood to play her game, he looked past her sneer and into her eyes.
"Oh my… you thought that? Ha ha ha…" Her laughter was clearer than the sound of the bell moments ago. "You sweet jealous man you." Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt she pulled him towards her and he spun as he fell back onto the table with her on top of him. "Your business silly." Picking a chart at random showed detailed lists of chakra points and notes commenting on sensory stimulation.
"The theory of sensory manipulation in the art of interrogation?"
"I've been working with experts on the senses. Akimichi taste buds, Inuzuka's mastery of scents, sight, touch and sound and so on. These 'boys' are helping me form my thesis for presentation to the Hokages at the upcoming Shinobi exhibition."
"So I'm just…"
"Being a paranoid husband? Yes. Thought it's flattering of you to think that I was cheating on you with all these young men." Letting the papers fall to the floor she leaned forward and kissed him deeply, intertwining her hands with his. Ibiki figured the makeup and outfit were all part of sight manipulation, if nothing else the look of her in makeup and tight leather got a reaction from him.
Where their hands went after that was a matter of their own concern, a moment best kept secret between two lovers.