January 30, 2015. You know those crime shows, like CSI, where after a case, everyone goes out to eat or drink or they do some sort of team socializing thing. That plus the coincidence that Iwashi likes buttered corn and Ibiki hates it inspired this. I would also like to clarify that since this is based off the Ibiki I rp, Ibiki and Iruka are merely friends, bordering on an almost sibling like relationship.
It had been an intense case, but with it finally over the department could breathe again. Ibiki had driven them unrelentingly, making them run down every single miniscule lead in the Mizuki case. From reinvestigating the past incident that landed Mizuki off missions, to intense questioning that bordered on interrogations to all of Mizuki's friends, save Iruka, who had only recently gotten out of the hospital. Not to say that Iruka wasn't questioned. He was, by Ibiki himself, but it was nothing more than a report of Iruka's version of events. Some of the newer members found it to be odd, but none of them were suicidal enough to call him out on it. Especially not when he was like a hawk on the hunt, focused sharply on the case. No one had ever seen him get quite that testy about anything. It just wasn't done.
Ibiki had a small place in his cold, black, withered heart for Iruka, right along side the place he had for Konoha. Those who betrayed the village always made his shit list. Loyalty was something he considered essential for any shinobi and those who were not loyal only had one destiny. Death. The only reason he wasn't the one to interrogate Mizuki was because, in his mind, Mizuki was traitor twice over. He didn't trust himself not to wring Mizuki's neck or snap it like a cheap pencil and while that would have been very satisfying for him, Hiruzen and the council would have been... less than happy with him.
It was with much trepidation that Tonbo knocked on Ibiki's door. The lack of response was a little nerve-racking and gave him enough time pull out a pack of cigarettes, tap one out and stick it in his mouth. A muffled, gruff "Come in," was heard before he could light it though. Tonbo sighed, opened the door, and took a step in, leaning against the doorframe.
The cigarette bobbed a bit as he spoke. "It's late and we've all really been working hard lately. We thought it would be nice to go out and get something to eat. Come join us, Boss. We'll even pick up your tab."
Ibiki was not happy at the interruption. He had mountains of paperwork to catch up on. Things he'd pushed aside in favor of going full tilt, legally (mostly), at Mizuki. He was considering, while glaring at his subordinate over the edge of the report he was reading, giving them a break and letting them go for the day. Until the mention of free food. The report was set aside, the coat grabbed off the back of his chair and swiftly put on and he was standing at the door shooing Tonbo out in what was probably record time for getting him out of the office.
They ended up at a nearby barbeque place, one Ibiki frequented, the owners and waiter's eyes lighting up at the sight of him. He always racked up a generous bill, especially when he forgot to eat lunch. It was chaos at first, the waiter pushing together two tables and getting them seated and started on their orders. It smoothed out once everyone was settled, talking with each other about theories on various cases (mostly the last one and what everyone thought the end game for Mizuki would be), teasing each other about odd habits, speculation on Ibiki's relationship with Iruka. The two idiots who started that conversation ducked a little at the one-eyed glare Ibiki gave them, especially since they were trending onto dangerous speculation. Ibiki had little choice but to respond and nip their stupidity in the bud.
He took his time with it though, tapping his finger on the table, drawing it out as if it was some great secret. "Iruka is like an otter with a rock, searching for clams."
Snickering, accompanied by a slap upside the head and a quiet "Ooowww, man," shut Iwashi up, for a short time. He was fortunate Tonbo was sitting beside him and had taken the initiative, otherwise he would have gotten kicked by Ibiki, who was sitting across the table from him.
Ibiki continued. "He looks for clams that don't open easily. Then he bashes his way in repeatedly with the rock, prying until he gets a crack in it. If the clam closes on him, he keeps trying. Eventually the shell cracks and he's able to get into the clam enough to get what he wants. You all know damned well I don't have relationships, friends, or any other of that sort of nonsense. It's too easy to be used against you in this line of work. He is... an acquaintance who has earned enough of my trust to be allowed to take care of my apartment while I'm away on missions. Nothing more, nothing less."
Their food arrived at this point, passed around to appropriate owners, except for the plate of buttered corn that kept circling the table. It landed beside Ibiki and he looked at it as if it offended him.
"Hey, has anyone seen my corn? Don't tell me they didn't bring it!" Iwashi was searching down the table, palms pushing him halfway up out of his seat until the item in question ended up thrust under his nose. A nose that acquired butter on it.
"Oh hey, there it is. Thanks, Boss!"
Ibiki didn't give him any response, too busy (and inwardly, gleefully) tucking into his food.
