Author's Notes: O_o I can't believe I left this story sitting for a year. I can't promise that the next chapter will be out in a week or even two but it won't be a year from now, I swear!


Senses Chapter Two

Salt and Flowers


Iruka's first thought, when he comes to, is that he's really glad that there's still someone there to do the thinking.

His second thought is that his first thought might not be as accurate as he'd like.

Iruka has been a full time instructor at the ninja Academy from the time Naruto and his classmates started there and any time he doesn't spend in the classroom he spends behind the desk in the mission office. So his own missions have been few and far between for a while now but, despite this, he's still a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf and there are some things carved so deep in the bone that no amount of runny noses or eraser pranks can expunge them. Currently his mind is running through the Ninja's Post-Blackout Check List of: Arms, legs, hands, feet, yes, no, undetermined? And he's coming up empty.

There's no pain, which would be a relief except that there isn't much of anything else either. He feels weight and a vague sense of direction as though he's tipped forward, on the edge of falling. There's no warmth, although he doesn't feel cold either, he can think clearly so he must be breathing but he can't feel his chest expand or the air moving through him. The world is so quiet that he feels as though he should be able to hear his heart beating in his chest, the blood rushing through his ears, only he can't. He can't hear anything at all. His vision is black, not the deep red of dappled light through closed eyelids but black. Deep, inky nothingness. He thinks about opening his eyes but nothing changes and he's not even sure his eyes are there. If it weren't for that feeling of weight he could believe he was just a mind floating in a void. It's very possibly the most disturbing experience he's ever had and Iruka is not at all ashamed of the little prickle of fear that's running through his mind.

Iruka imagines he takes a shaky breath at this point (he can almost trick himself into feeling the rush of air into his lungs), to acknowledge that, in all probability, he's in enemy hands under the influence of some combination of poisons or genjitsu or both and that he is, almost certainly, totally fucked.

He feels better.

Well if it's genjitsu, and the more he considers it the more inclined he is to think that's the case, then his next course of action is clear. A strong pulse of chakra would dispel it instantly but he'd be throwing himself into an unknown situation with any number of variables, few of which were likely to be in his favor. Still, with nothing to work with his best option is to gather more intel and that means breaking the genjitsu. At the very least he needs to know that Naruto and Sakura (and Kakashi too) are okay.

His mind made up, Iruka centers himself and pulls.

At nothing.

There's nothing.

Nothing, nothing, nothing, as he reaches and twists and pulls but there's nothing and the panic rips and screams through his mind as the world tips over.


It could have been a moment, just a moment in that nothingness. It could have been an eternity.

It felt like an eternity.

Or maybe like one instant warped and stretched out until it wrapped him up and smothered him.

The instant breaks and Iruka comes back to himself as two points of pain burst above him, biting into him. He's so relieved he could cry, doesn't care that it's agony because it's chakra and he can feel it. Two more flare to life below him, equally painful. He wonders briefly, as the two points above pulse burning hot and then settle, what's happening to him. Is he being attacked? Healed? Restrained?

Chakra pushes into his core and for a split second he can feel his body again, spread out with his arms pinned up by his head (Restrained then, he thinks), before the feeling shatters into icy needles shredding his chakra pathways like wet paper.

He would give up everything, absolutely everything, in that moment - every happy day, every friendly face, every successful prank he'd ever pulled off, every crayon drawing and half eaten apple left on his desk, every brick in the academy building, every quiet day at the mission desk, every name on the Memorial Stone and every last one of Naruto's smiles - he'd give up absolutely everything if only he could scream.

Salt.

The taste is so intense it overpowers everything else, the burning chakra drains away and Iruka hardly notices because his whole being is salt, salt, salt. Late night ramen and bits of potato chips crushed on the classroom floor and the taste of his own tears as Mizuki's shuriken cleaves into his back. And no, he wouldn't, couldn't, give up even one smile, not ever.

Iruka's mind drifts into black with the taste of salt bursting on his tongue like fireworks.


The next time Iruka wakes up (have I really, he wonders, or am I just dreaming?) he's still in the void, sightless, soundless, with no chakra, and no sense of his body except a dull weight and the persistent and vexing sensation that the world has turned sideways. The taste of salt is gone, replaced by something a little rank but still entirely welcome given the circumstances. And there's something else.

The void is filled with the scent of flowers.

He must have taken a deep breath because the smell becomes overpowering, the perfume of verbena and tulips and irises leaving him almost dizzy. An image floods his mind, and he can see it almost as if it's happening right in-front of his eyes, his first class of kunoichi returning from their very first lesson in Ikebana. Little Ino, bright eyed and bursting with confidence, trailed by shy, shy Sakura clutching her arrangement to her chest and oh so pleased when she's called to the front of the class. They've grown so much since then and he's honestly proud of what they've achieved but he misses those little girls just now, trapped in the void. He misses their simple exuberance and sweet smiles, the way they brought out the best in each other without the posturing or rivalry, back before needless choices were made and their hair grew long.

This is no genjitsu, Iruka decides. Something has been done to him but if the void was an illusion it would have broken completely when the surge of invading chakra had ripped through him, even in the pain he'd still been blind and deaf and lost. At least something useful came out of it, he thinks as he focuses on the scents around him. It's not much to work with but it's more than he had.

Verbena and tulips and irises.

None of those were growing in the field near the ambush - just daisies, wood poppies and pink moss, a riot of color but all very common. He's definitely been moved since the battle then, the question being where? Verbena are generally hearty flowers but tulips and irises are a little more picky. Iruka tries to think of where he's seen them all growing together but other than flower shops and a few gardens nothing comes to mind.

Iruka would really like to frown and huff in irritation but he can't feel his face so he settles for a string of mental cursing instead. He's got an in at Anko's favorite dango stand just waiting for the day she slips up in-front of his students but until then he'll make full use of her extensive vocabulary. Even if it's just silently in his head. He wishes he could make himself breath deeply again but now that he consciously wants to it just won't happen.

Focus, he thinks, just breathe and focus.

Verbena and tulips and irises and something... almost acidic, sharp across his mind. What does it remind him of?

Something like dread and anxiety, sickness and death.

What is it? He can't think clearly anymore.

Iruka struggles briefly then gives in and lets himself fade out.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.