The yakuza gangsters dragged Iruka into an alley smelling strongly of urine and alcohol. A hand tightened painfully around his wrist and the chunin suppressed the instinct to fight back or escape. Hiroshi had no proof that he was a ninja. He had no proof there were ninja here at all.
The moment shinobi presence could be proven, they lost all chance of infiltrating the upper ranks in the yakuza hierarchy. If he didn't want to destroy all the progress made on his mission, Iruka had to keep this game going.
The men shoved him backwards, causing his head to hit the brick wall with a dull thud.
"Please, Boss, I didn't do anything, I swear!" Iruka cried out, bringing his arms in front of him protectively. "I-if this is about the money missing from the register…I'm sorry! I didn't think it was such a big deal. I'll pay it back. Double! Please…"
"You know exactly what this is about, ninja," Hiroshi hissed, not taking the bait. He nodded at a guard who proceeded to grab a fistful of Iruka's hair.
"Ninja?" Iruka repeated incredulously. "Wait… You think I'm a ninja? You've got to be kidding me."
Hiroshi stared at the bartender with an unreadable expression before turning to his men. "Search him."
"We are fighting dreamers…" Genma sang, not missing a beat even as his heart sank.
Over his own wailing and bandmate's playing, Genma couldn't hear the tavern owner and his three of his thugs confronting Iruka, but it was safe to say the clipped conversation didn't exude friendliness.
"…Oli oli oli oh, Just go my way!" He cast an eye toward Anko, tracking her progress with her new interrogation.
Unfortunately, Anko's mind wasn't on her target. The kunoichi flirtatiously tossed her hair back- not to lull in her prey, but to angle her head just enough to watch Iruka. When the boss led Iruka out through a side exit, Genma just knew she was trying to invent an excuse to abandon her target and follow after the chunin.
He wouldn't have minded her instinct to protect a teammate, except that Anko couldn't see the strategically located guards, watching and waiting to flush out undercover operatives. From Genma's elevated vantage point on stage, he watched them taking careful note of exits, observing who may be going to aid the captive bartender. If Anko left now, her cover would be all but blown.
He had to get her attention, to stop her somehow.
Well, nothing distracted quite like loud, annoying fangirls.
Genma swayed his hips gratuitously while reaching up to untie his bandana. The giddy shrieks confirmed that he had the ladies' attention as the jounin flung his bandana out into the crowd.
Anko was approaching the exit when a stampede of women blocked her intended path. In front of her, a gaggle of females fought over a bandana. Genma's bandana.
The kunoichi glared up in annoyance, just in time to see the squad leader briefly flash the Konoha hand sign for "Stand Down."
Why would he stop her from following Iruka?
Before she could reflect further, her target- the man she'd ditched just moments ago- approached. "Hey, babe, what's the hurry? Why don't you stay awhile, let me buy you a drink."
Anko inwardly sighed. Back to work it was, then. This newest target was the most promising source of information they'd found thus far. Iruka would just have to wait.
She cast one last glance at the stage before following the target to the bar. Genma had better know what he was doing.
Iruka found himself pinned to the wall by the red-haired Taiyo while the other two guards rifled through his clothing and pockets. Cash from his tips, an alcohol flask, and the compact bags of drugs he sold were confiscated as they searched for incriminating evidence.
A guard with tattoos sprawled along the length of his muscular arms discovered the deep inside pocket of Iruka's tailored black sports jacket. Pulling out Iruka's hair comb- the one with poison tipped senbon hidden in its hollow spine- Shou tossed it aside disinterestedly.
A scraggly-bearded guard pulled up Iruka's pant leg, uncovering the four-inch blade he'd kept strapped to his calf. "Ha! What do we have here?" He announced triumphantly, waving it under the captive's nose.
"It's a knife, genius," Iruka bit back, "Like there's anyone in this side of town who doesn't carry one."
The sarcastic retort earned him a swift blow to the face. As his cheek began swelling, Iruka prayed that none of the make-up covering his scar had come off on the man's hand. It was supposed to be completely smudge-proof and waterproof, but he really wasn't interested in testing its durability.
The tattooed guard withdrew a pen and thin notebook in another jacket pocket. He would have dismissed this as well, but Hiroshi reached out and snatched it from the guard's hand.
"Now, let's see what you've been writing about me." The pen dropped to the ground as Hiroshi flipped the pages of the notebook.
"It's just a memo book for reminders- things I need to buy, appointments I need to keep- stuff like that," Iruka offered. "I swear, Boss, I would never turn on you. You gave me a job when I was down on my luck. If it weren't for you, I'd be out on the streets. I'd never sell you out, to ninja or anyone else!"
This emotional avowal of loyalty did not faze the man. The owner ignored him, carefully scouring through pages and examining the scarce amount of writing it contained.
Iruka wondered if the guards knew enough about chakra to realize that the paper in his notebook could easily be used for bombs tags. For an instant weapon, he need only rip a page from that notebook and inscribe the proper characters with the chakra-conducting-ink pen that was lying ignored at the boss's feet.
But such subtleties were beyond them at the moment. The bearded guard sighed impatiently, grabbing a liquor flask they'd confiscated from Iruka- the one containing truth serum- and throwing his head back for a gulp.
"Don't!" Taiyo hissed, snatching the flask away at the last second. "What if that isn't alcohol?"
"What else would you put in a liquor flask?" The bearded man grumbled.
"If you're a ninja…poison, flesh eating acid…just about anything" the red head retorted. "Be more careful, Giichi."
"Well then, why don't we test it out on Akio here and find out?" Shou suggested with a smug grin.
Drinking truth serum was definitely going to complicate the situation. Impaired judgment, lower inhibitions, increased talkativeness… no, he did not need that.
"This ninja thing isn't funny anymore, guys," Iruka complained, trying to wave down the proffered flask. "It's just saké, and I've had enough today. Really. That's gonna get me completely wasted."
"Afraid of your own medicine?" Taiyo smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Well then, let's make a deal. We know that ninja work in teams. Tell us who your partners are, and we won't make you drink."
"But I'm not a ninja!"
"If that's how you want to play it," The redhead narrowed his eyes. "Go ahead, Giichi."
Prying open his jaw, the bearded guard emptied the contents down Iruka's throat, forcing him to drink. The chunin felt a buzz almost immediately as the drug overwhelmed his system.
The chunin carried a particularly potent brew of truth serum. Only one ounce of it was required to bring out a victim's secrets. Iruka had just swallowed eight.
It was tearing Genma apart. On one hand, he trusted that Iruka was capable of sticking to his story, however they may try to force a confession. The man had endured torture resistance training with Ibiki himself.
However, was he- as the team captain- willing to allow his comrade to suffer through that process?
Probably.
Genma recognized that Iruka, like any good shinobi, would be willing to put up with a bit of forceful interrogation for the sake of exposing and ultimately eradicating one of the most dangerous gangs in Fire Country.
Then again, Hiroshi could decide to kill the chunin, evidence or no evidence. This was, in fact, a distinct possibility. In the world of ninja and yakuza, there was no such thing as innocent until proven guilty.
Was Genma willing to forfeit Iruka's life for the success of the mission?
Probably not.
But the jounin didn't know for certain if they would resort to killing him. Acting hastily could destroy the mission for naught. It all boiled down to choosing which was the greater risk- blowing the mission unnecessarily, or gambling with his comrade's life?
In the end, he supposed there never really was a choice.
The lead guitarist frowned at their recently hired singer when his words began slurring too thickly. His eyes widened and he hurried to Genma's side when he started swaying dangerously.
The blond-haired guitarist caught him before he could fall. "Hey, Light-weight," he tsked, "Didn't Akio warn you about too much whiskey?"
Genma offered a nauseated groan in reply.
"Don't even think about barfing all over me!" the blond protested, "Come on, let's get you to the bathroom."
The tokubetsu jounin allowed himself to be dragged to the restroom, where he stumbled into the closest stall and forced himself to retch. He could hear the door shut as his bandmate left him to his misery.
His hands flowed through seals, and a clone appeared at his side.
"Stay here," Genma instructed the clone sternly. "Pretend to be sick. Stall as long as you can."
"I know, already," the clone complained, waving him off. "The guards are chakra-sensitive. If they realize I'm a bunshin, then it's over for the mission andIruka."
"Smart man," Genma smirked, as he began to squeeze himself through the tiny bathroom window. "Keep your distance from the guards. I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Well, he's still alive," Taiyo noted.
"'Course I'm alive. Told you it's not poison," Iruka countered, his words slurring slightly. He was well under the influence already. Despite his unsteady swaying, the chunin felt strangely confident- indestructible, even- and reckless.
Even knowing he that he was trying to preserve vital secrets while under the influence of a powerful truth serum, he couldn't find it in him to feel worried.
"Yeah, he definitely doesn't look dead," the tattooed guard sighed. "Too bad."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better," the chunin slurred "I'm gonna feel like crap in the morning." Somehow, the thought made him giggle to himself. "The kids are going to be hell to deal with while I'm hungover."
"What kids?" Taiyo asked sharply.
"The…kids," Iruka responded slowly, blinking his drug-glazed eyes as a vague, muffled instinct warned him that this fell under the "Not Supposed to Talk About" category. "My kids." He chuckled again, unable to restrain himself from elaborating. "Not baby goats, mind you. When I say 'kids,' I mean children, though that's really not the proper term for them. Isn't it funny how people use such odd expressions without…"
Giichi cursed and slammed him backward into the wall. "Do you think we give a damn?" he menaced, "Who are the other undercover ninja? Tell us now!"
"Ow…" the chunin complained. "That hurt, you jackass. You know, if you keep knocking my head around like that, I could get a concussion. "
Holding a knife under his throat, Giichi growled "Trust me, you'll get worse than that if you don't cooperate. Tell us who you're working with!"
"Who I'm working with…? Well, Naomi's pretty good at helping me at the bar…"
The blade touched the skin of his neck. "Who are your partners, ninja? Answer the question!"
Iruka frowned disapprovingly. "That is a very personal question. But if you must know…I don't have a partner right now. I haven't dated in several months. You see, the last girl I was with, she left me for someone else. I tell my friends I'm over her- hell, I tell myself I'm over her- but the truth is, I'm not." Tears stung his eyes and he reached up to wipe them away, heedless of the weapon at his throat. "Maybe I'm just a sap, but I keep waiting, hoping she'll come back…and… Kami, this is depressing…can we change the subject?"
"It's no good; he's too drunk," Shou declared in disgust.
"An emotional drunk," Giichi added as Iruka continued to wipe his teary eyes and ramble about lost love.
