Disclaimer: Not mine.
A Day in the Life -1- : Tobitake Tonbo
Chapter 2: It's Never a Normal Day at Work
Habits. Tonbo mused as he entered the Intel building, so much for sensei always saying ninja should avoid falling into them. He sighed as he went down his normal corridor to his normal staircase and made his way down to his normal floor. It was odd to think that while Intel and her 'light' divisions – Cyphers, Forgery, Cryptology and Forensics, among others, took up all the upper levels in the nondescript building, the 'dark' division of T&I was situated well underground. Just as well really. It was a large division, and needed all the extra space that the underground provided.
Two flights down, he stepped out of the stairwell and nearly ran smack dab into Morino Ibiki. The older man looked evilly cranky, and Tonbo checked his internal clock. Ibiki must be on his way for coffee. While never precisely pleasant to most during his normal working hours, Ibiki because more tolerable as you poured coffee into him.
Wordlessly, Tonbo followed the jounin to the coffeemaker and silently accepted the proffered cup. Inhaling deeply, he savored the nutty fragrance, then took a sip. Hmmm… he thought idly as the sip scalded its way down his throat. Ibiki must be on a hazelnut kick again.
"What's today's agenda?" he asked after another sip.
Ibiki didn't answer immediately, instead took a sip of his own coffee. Stepping away from the breakroom's stained and semi-broken counter (it was a ninja's breakroom, after all), he motioned Tonbo to follow. Wordlessly he did so after quickly draining the last of his coffee.
Back to the staircase they went, down another two flights of stairs. Ibiki pulled the heavy door open, releasing the sealing jutsu on it with a gentle touch of his chakra. On this floor the walls were thicker, both soundproofed by conventional means and by jutsu. The long corridor was silent save the the humming of the overhead fluorescent light, which buzzed abnormally loud in the silence. Lined by heavy doors with small, shatter-proof glass windows, this was where Konoha housed her recaptured missing nin, her traitors, and those from elsewhere who tried to do her harm. Like the door at the stairwell, these doors were keyed to very specific chakra signatures, effectively making the entire floor a self-contained prison, virtually escape-proof.
Still silent, Ibiki strode forward into the hall, bypassing several of the cells. The one he did stop in front of was identical to all the other occupied rooms, decipherable from the unoccupied rooms only by the presence of a startling mundane file folder stuck in the pocked on the front of the door.
Ibiki peered through the tiny window, the scrunching motion of his eyes squinting causing his scars to look and move like snake scales. Without looking away, he pulled the file and handed it to his silent companion.
Tonbo knew Ibiki well enough to know he was being baited. Mentally sighing, he decided he would undoubtedly regret this entire conversation sooner rather than later.
"Where's he from?"
Not, 'What did he do?' Not, 'What's his name?' Not, 'Did he break yet?'
Name was irrelevant, as well as if he broke. They all broke eventually. That's what T&I did, after all. Asking where he was from answered what his motives could have been succinctly enough.
"He was from Kuso, before he went missing. Seems he stole a rather important scroll from one of their local daimyos, a relatively powerful one. Something about an accounting of his family's line. He ran into one of our regular patrols a week ago and killed a genin before their jounin realized anything was wrong."
Tonbo's stomach did a slow flop, and he suddenly found himself glad he had stuck to only coffee so fat. Though he himself had grown up in wartime and had seen all the horrors of the battlefield, he hated to see Konoha's children die needlessly.
"Their jounin, one of the Aburame clan, tagged him with a beetle before getting his team clear. ANBU ID'd him in the blackbook with their description, and sent out one of their own Aburames to track the little bastard and bring him down. They did so successfully, and recovered the scroll I mentioned."
At times, Tonbo wished he didn't hide his face. The effect a raised eyebrow could have was so useful.
Ibiki knew his friend well enough to read his body language by this point, though. The crossed arms and the sideways tilt of his head meant he had the chuunin's full attention.
"You know how badly Oto and her attack hurt us." It wasn't a question. Even the pregenin knew how many ninja had been lost in the attack. Twenty-three, his mind told him cruelly, rubbing salt into the open wound. Even the babies in the Academy knew how many civilians the ninja had failed to protect. Two hundred and twelve, the hissing mind-voice jibbed him. And one Hokage. And that wasn't even including the injured.
Tonbo nodded again silently, his fingernails digging tiny bloody crescents into the palms of his hands. He had been ANBU that day, called in to help bolster the ranks for the close of the chuunin exam, and had nearly killed himself with chakra depletion. The attack was a touchy subject for any ANBU, past or present. Yes, they had succeeded in protecting their village and repulsing the attack, but ultimately they had failed. Their villagers had been threatened, and two hundred and twelve souls hadn't been protected by those who had sworn to. Two hundred and twelve, plus the twenty –three teammates that had fallen, that they had been unable to back-up and protect… and the Sandaime Hokage…
Sometimes, especially of late, he thanked Kami for every moment that he wore his bandages. They hid the pain of failure. And he wasn't alone in that sentiment, he knew. Some of the other ANBU supposedly hadn't taken their masks off in the two weeks since the attack.
Ibiki strategically noted his falter and chose not to comment, instead continuing. "The Council has decided that, since the scroll has no obvious value besides the intrinsic sentimentality attached to it for the daimyo, we might as well return in, especially since they've graciously agreed to pay Konoha well for it's safe return."
Ibiki and Tonbo knew, better than most, what was implied by those words. The attack had hurt her ninja corps badly, and, as a village, they could not afford to a)make Kuso any more hostile towards Konoha than she already was, b)throw away money that Konoha desperately needed to rebuild, and c)appear weak to the other ninja nations.
Tonbo was rather puzzled though. "So where do I come in?" He nudge Ibiki aside and peered for himself into the cell.
It wasn't exactly dank, but it certainly was no daimyo's summer retreat, either. Spartan was an excellent adjective for it.
A stool. A cot. A combination sink and toilet. A tiny writing desk with a shelf above it, housing a few books. And, of course, the prisoner himself. Apparently still asleep, the young man's arm was draped over his eyes, revealing the chakra-draining cuff on his wrist. His black hair was unruly at best and hid most of the prisoner's other features.
All this he read through the swirls of chakra, the cuff around the prisoner's wrist glowing like a supernova in his mind's eye. He looked back to Ibiki.
The tokubetsu jounin bit back a sound of exasperation. He had no idea how Tonbo could convey the expectancy of a puppy as well as he did, but damn was he good at it.
"We need someone to deliver the scroll, and since the mission duty-roster is so shorthanded, I nominated you."
"Why?"
Ibiki now smirked, his scars again crinkling. He looked like an evil gargoyle. "Because you need to get out more often."
"Be serious, Morino." There was no threat in the words, and both knew it.
"I am." The older man stepped away, and waited until Tonbo had matched his pace to continue. "We're too shorthanded. Just about everyone not essential to Operations has been pulled for sentry patrols. They even have the pregenin doing some of them now, calling them field excercises. All the physically able jounin and chuunin are pulling missions, or pulling double and triple shifts." He held a hand up to forestall any protests. "Yes, I know we are too. I know very well you've been pulling ANBU duty more nights than not. If you slept fifteen hours total last week, that was a lot."
Tonbo chose not to wonder about how Ibiki knew that. It must have been a secret Ibiki-no-jutsu or something.
Ibiki continued. "What I'm trying to say, and my apologies for being so roundabout, is that the Council wants an ANBU to do the handoff, and I want someone I can trust to keep their eyes open. You make everyone happy."
The younger man did have to concede to Ibiki's logic, however ruthless it might be. It was a valid point he had, a very valid point.
The wheels were already turning in Tonbo's head regardless, slowly building momentum. His kit bag was already packed. His armor was newly replaced; his old set had been nothing but destroyed after the attempted invasion. His katana was on his weapons rack by the door, newly sharpened. "When would I be leaving?" He pushed the door at the end of the hall open after tapping it gently with his chakra, then held it open for Ibiki.
Ibiki stepped through it with feline grace, belying his stature. "As soon as you're ready. Stop by the Mission Desk to pick up the actual scroll, as well as the actual mission scroll. The rendezvous point where you'll meet with the daimyo's representative is about three hours to the east, ANBU-paced. Best case, you're back in the village tonight."
Worse case went unmentioned. Shinobi did not dwell on what might happen on their missions. It was bad luck, and shinobi, especially ANBU, tended to be a very superstitious group.
They lift the stairwell at ground level, Tonbo unconsciously turning his face to the sun, reveling in its warmth. He could feel the brightness.
Ibiki extended his right hand, and the chuunin accepted it wordlessly, as was their custom before either rman left for a mission. Their simple, silent handshake said everything their words could not, but that their thoughts shouted at one another.
You'd better come back. I'm due a week of vacation, and I can't leave Izumo in charge again. That putz almost blew the building up.
Water my plants or feel my wrath, Morino.
Screw this one up and I'll make you pay Tobitake. You know the Council doesn't particularly like people outside the norm. I went to bat for you on this one.
You let my cat scratch my sofa to shreds again, I'm stealing yours.
All this and more translated for both into the simple unspoken words: Don't die.
Stepping apart, Tonbo quickly put his hands together into a teleportation jutsu and was gone. Ibiki shielded his eyes from the blue-gray chakra smoke and just stood for a moment, letting the sun warm his own weary countenance.