No one accustomed to everyday activities in Konoha would have been surprised to see a slightly pale Iruka-sensei, laden down with books and scrolls and papers, entering the academy library at ten forty five on a Saturday morning. It was hardly an uncommon sight, after all. And hopefully those same people would entirely ignore the diminutive blonde kunoichi who left by the same route about five minutes later. The henge was good; Iruka was excellent at the basics, it went hand in hand with being a teacher.
It wasn't however good enough to fool the guards at the Hokage tower. As he stepped through the front door, a large figure materialised in front of him making him jump and yelp in surprise. In his defence, he was horribly, horribly distracted.
"No justu in the tower." How did that manage to sound disapproving with only a mask and a monotone voice to go by?
Iruka dropped the henge so fast it made a whooshing sound. "M-my apologies, ANBU-san," he stuttered, bobbing a small respectful bow as his brain pointed out that he'd better get used to seeing ANBU around if the course of his life took the route it seemed inevitably about to. "It was completely unintentional. It won't happen again." The ANBU was gone by the time he looked up. Iruka glanced around, shivered, and started up the stairs.
The Hokage, of course, was busy. Weekend or not, the Godaime worked when there was work to be done and, since Iruka couldn't demand entrance without explaining why to the aides, he was left kicking his heels outside her door until she could 'squeeze him in.' Finally though, Shizune stuck her head out of the door and gave a brisk nod. Iruka stood up, took a deep breath, and went inside.
"Hokage-sama." He sketched his little bow. Tsunade loathed formality but he couldn't drop the habit entirely. It went against his grain to be so rude.
"Iruka-sensei." The Hokage placed her pen carefully on the table and folded her hands in front of her mouth. Her normally crowded desk was almost clear today. "Everything's all right at the old academy, I trust?"
"Yes, fine." He flicked a glance towards the other desk. Ah, that's where all the paperwork had gone. Teetering piles braced against slumping stacks over spills of half-ravelled scrolls, and just visible above the chaotic mess, several spikes of messy white hair. Hatake Kakashi, having luckily (or unluckily, to hear him tell of it) survived the last war unscathed, had been promoted to unofficial deputy by a Godaime who, according to rumour, 'wasn't going to let the brat get off that easily'. In truth, although still Hokage in the hearts and minds of the shinobi of Konoha, the injuries Tsunade had sustained while going head to head with Uchiha Madara so soon after her near death at the hands of Pein, had taken their toll. Not a voice was raised in protest (except by the victim himself) when Kakashi was manoeuvred, blackmailed or coerced into becoming the heir apparent. The arrangement had become permanent a month ago and, in Iruka's opinion, Tsunade looked all the better for it.
A frown creased Tsunade's brow. "Sensei, what is it you want?"
Iruka flinched at her tone, then straightened. This was it, the path he had laid out for himself, the bed he had made. "I am here to confess, Hokage-sama. As a shinobi of Konoha, I have broken the rules and throw myself upon your mercy."
One elegant eyebrow quirked. "It must be bad. Tell me, Iruka-sensei, before I get Ibiki up here with the manacles, what could you have possibly done that's so bad you felt the need to confess."
Details. Damn it, she wanted details. It was to be expected, Iruka supposed, though a part of him had rather hoped she'd just throw him to T&I and forget about him. Of course his plan for redemption rather relied on her not doing that.
He bowed again, this time much lower, before beginning right at the beginning. "A year ago my application for senior tutor at the new academy was rejected and when I enquired how I could remedy this unfortunate failure, Hisoka-san informed me that, since the pre-genin attending that institution all had special bloodlines and talents, preference was being shown to applicants of tokubetsu jounin rank and above. He suggested that I enter myself in the qualifying exam and offered to find a suitable mentor to address any shortcomings I may have. After due consideration, I accepted his offer and, since traps and seals are my strongest jutsu, I began training with Tekuno-san the following week."
Iruka took a deep breath. Everything had been fine up to that point; he had actually started to believe his ambitions were achievable. Ambitions which, ironically, had nothing to do with becoming a tutor at the new 'elite' academy. The trouble was, appointment to that institution was the most likely route to Senior Head Teacher these days and that was where Iruka's dream lay. Because, as Senior Head Teacher of Konoha, he would have a seat on the village council, could influence educational policy and, most importantly in Iruka's mind, would have the final say on each and every child's graduation. Holding that position, Iruka could ensure that all of them, however talented or connected, had the solid childhood they needed to move on successfully to the next stage of life. No more prodigies pushed forward before their time. No more traumatised misfits slipping through the net. No more Itachis or Sasukes. And maybe no more Mizukis either.
Now that dream was gone. Smashed to pieces under the heels of stupidity and short-sightedness. Eyes fixed on a spot just over the Hokage's left shoulder, Iruka continued, "As any good teacher would, Tekuno-san set many exercises and problems to hone my abilities. Everything was going well until he began to test me under exam conditions. I..." Iruka's breath caught in utter humiliation. "I failed. Horribly." Colour flushed his cheeks. "Apparently if given time to prepare, my sealing techniques are excellent, however under battlefield conditions I," and here he used Tekuno's own belittling words, "'would put my team mates in danger' and would be, 'better off sticking to what I'm good at and not getting in anyone else's way'."
That had hurt. Sure, Iruka knew he was no genius, but he wasn't a useless shinobi either. In truth, thanks to being shuffled into teaching at a fairly young age, he had never really had a chance to run up against the boundaries of his abilities. In his heart of hearts, he had always believed there was nothing he couldn't do if he studied hard enough for long enough, a belief that he passed on to his students and had seen fulfilled time after time. To discover that he simply was not, and never would be, capable of the kind of quick complex work expected of a fuuinjutsu expert on the battlefield was devastating.
"I refused to believe him. We argued and he finally allowed me to enter the exam anyway, even though he was certain I would fail. During our argument, Tekuno-san let slip that Ebisu-sensei would be the main examiner and it was then that I had the idea." Stupid, stupid idea. Even if it had worked. "The day before the practical element of the exam, I used sexy-no-jutsu to lure Ebisu-sensei out of his office and sent a clone in to search his desk. I found the question papers and was able to copy them before he returned."
"I'm not seeing-" the Hokage began.
Iruka bowed again and spoke over her. "Please allow me to continue, Hokage-sama." She waved a hand at him, the other covering a poorly concealed smirk That would be gone soon enough, Iruka thought. "Thanks to this insight, I was able to take and pass the practical element of the exam and gain promotion to tokubetsu jounin." One of the happiest days of his life. The party that night had been attended by half of Konoha, it felt like, and he'd been so proud. Idiot. How stupid he'd been.
"Everyone cheats, Iru-"
"But not everyone gets caught."
He heard the Hokage catch her breath, then, "Who? Tekuno-"
"Would have reported me, yes, Hokage-sama. But it was not Tekuno-san who caught me. Frankly I wish it had been. Demotion would be preferable to what is actually happening."
And here came the crux of it. "Truthfully I still don't know precisely who caught me, nor how. However, when I was passed over for promotion again last week, in favour of a Hyuuga who had never stood in a classroom in her life, I made it known that I thought the system was unfair and biased." At the top of his voice. To anyone who would listen. In retrospect it was a more humiliating and unforgivable episode than his outburst at the chuunin exams all those years ago. "Then yesterday evening I was approached by a shinobi who had heard about my tirade and wondered just how deep my feelings of disaffection ran. I protested my loyalty to Konoha, at which point he cited my misdeeds as evidence of criminal behaviour, and suggested that, in return for some small task, both his silence and an appointment to the new academy could be bought. In short, Hokage-sama, there is a traitor in Konoha and I believe he attempted to recruit me."
The Hokage's smile had become a fiercely unhappy frown. Iruka was just grateful she hadn't thrown the desk at him. "So where is this traitor, Iruka?" she asked slowly. "You know the penalties for trying to blackmail a shinobi as well as I do. Why didn't you bring him in?"
"Because he'd put something in my drink and I passed out before I could, Hokage-sama." Was that a snicker from behind the pile of paperwork? Iruka glared briefly in that direction. "When I came to, it occurred to me that this could be a unique opportunity to infiltrate and collect intelligence."
"Except any traitor worth their salt would be having you watched and running straight to the Hokage just outed you as tattle-tale."
"Except that I came here in disguise, Hatake-san," Iruka snapped in the direction of the pile of paperwork. "I may be a cheat but I'm not stupid."
"No, just foolish enough to get caught."
Iruka clenched his fists and bit back a retort. Having a stand up row with Kakashi would not help the situation, plus the infuriating man was right. He had been foolish enough to get caught. "The fact remains, I disguised myself with a henge before coming to the tower. And thanks to the clone I left in my place, anyone watching will still be under the impression that I am working in the library." He permitted himself a small tight smile in Kakashi's direction.
"Maa, Sensei, any jounin level shinobi can distinguish a clone from the real thing."
He was not going to respond! He wasn't! Iruka gritted his teeth and hissed, "It's a shadow clone. I repeat, I am not stupid and I would appreciate it if-"
"Enough!" The bellow and fists slamming into the table hard enough for the wood to let out an ominous crack, silenced the pair of them. Iruka gulped and turned his attention back to the Hokage, suspecting Kakashi had done the same – though probably without the nervous swallow. "Iruka, what exactly did this traitor ask you to do?"
"He didn't say, Hokage-sama. Nor did he leave me the means to contact him. I assume they'll come back to me, which is why I came to you as soon as I was able to do so discretely."
She nodded, once slowly, then again quite briskly and Iruka knew her decision had been made. He tried not to hold his breath as he waited for sentence to be passed. "You realise we will have to obtain an accurate picture of this traitor," she pointed out before calling for Shizune, who stuck her head through the door so quickly that Iruka suspected she'd been eavesdropping. "Tell whoever's on call at Intel that I need them to work on someone downstairs," Tsunade said without looking at her, face stony as she continued to stare at Iruka. He flushed and glanced down at the floor, hearing her sigh of disappointment in the silence after Shizune left. "Can I trust you to go down there alone?"
"O-of course, Hokage-sama!" Iruka stammered, lifting his head in surprise. "I have accepted that I'm at fault and promise to do nothing to avoid punishment."
"Good." She picked up her pen and moved some papers around her desk, still frowning. "At least that's settled. Tell Inoichi everything you can remember first and then let him check. He's good enough not to hurt you if you don't fight it."
"Yes, Hokage-sama." Iruka bowed deeply, turned and left, still with the sword of Damocles over his head, but thankful for having survived at all.
