Chapter 10

As with most protected places, getting out of Konoha proved easier than getting in. Even with an intensely reluctant party, they managed to pass outside the wall where the forest was deepest. Carefully, they made their way until the soft whiney of a horse reached Shouda's ear, followed by a distant hoof-beat on the leaf-strewn forest floor.

Almost feverishly, Shouda smiled. Home, as he'd planned. Home, with the teacher they needed. Home, with the shepherd.

His gaze raked over the man upon whom all his hopes rested, seeing the lines of resistance throughout his unwilling body. Ri-Tou had already had to be tough with him, had already had to leave marks on him. And he would attempt to escape if he could, might even try to kill himself. Maybe.

The captain pressed his lips together. It didn't matter. He forced images to the front of his mind, of the way Iruka's face would transform when he stepped through the grass of his homeland and was escorted among the dwellings, overflowing with people. They'd touch his face, and the children would crowd his knees and he'd realize that what Shouda was doing was right. He'd stop struggling then.

All Shouda had to do was make sure Iruka got there. Everything else, he convinced himself, would come with time.

They'd reached the clearing where they'd moved the horses. There was a fretful putter as one of the animals blew through its lips, tugging at its reigns. "Easy," Keno reached to stroke the mount, though his own expression remained anxious. He turned, waiting silently on his captain's instructions.

Shouda stepped up to Iruka's back and leaned forward so that his soft words would not carry through the branches bearing down over their heads, densely viridian. "One day," he promised. "You will thank me for this."

The teacher's clinched teeth distorted his reply. "Abductor. Liar," he hissed, and his fierce brown eyes darted to anchor on Shouda's. "But never a savior. You should remember that."

The man looked down on his captive impassively. It didn't matter what he said. He didn't know anything.

"He'll ride with you, Ri-Tou," he ordered, and the restraining hand over Iruka's shoulder tightened. They mounted swiftly and turned their heads to the west. Then the forest swallowed them up as though it was glad to see them go.

Genma and Kakashi were still together when they were accosted by a man wearing a leather jerkin and smelling of sawdust. His arms were full of a red-faced toddler, still wetting his father's shoulder with a streaked, sticky face. He grasped Kakashi's shirt sleeve as they passed on the street, drawing them to a halt.

"Yes?" Kakashi asked, a little archly. His eye ghosted the civilian garb, flicking over but not settling on the strong, clinched jaw and the baby tucked firmly under it.

"You're Hatake," the man said uncertainly. His eyes were on the copy-nin's hair, sliding over his shielded eye, his cowled face. Shifting his son's weight, and asked urgently, "Iruka-sensei – you're his Hatake?"

Slightly taken aback by the association, uncertain how to meet such a description, Kakashi nonetheless found himself answering; "You know Iruka?"

The man nodded affirmative. "Iruka-sensei teaches my boy. He always feeds Kouichi lunch since I can't get away from work, but today when I got home, my son was alone." He balked then, his forehead furrowed. "Hatake-san, he says he was with Iruka-sensei when they were approached by those foreigners."

The child hiccupped, stammering, "Bad guys. Ruuu-u-ka."

A thrill of fear electrified Kakashi, drawing him completely from his slouch. Without full comprehension of what he was doing, he lurched to grip the little boy, demanding, "What did you say?"

Genma interceded immediately, sweeping the agitated copy-nin away from the stricken pair. Beneath his breath, he growled, "Kakashi, get control of yourself!" Then, flashing an earnest, placating look into the father's flushed face, he drew the senbon from his mouth. "Kouichi? I'm sorry that he frightened you like that. He won't do it again, will you, shinobi-san?" he hissed over his shoulder.

It took all of Kakashi's concentration to tuck his chin in some simulation of agreement.

The Tokubetsu Jounin peered earnestly into the child's face. "We need to know what happened. Can you take a deep breath, for Iruka-sensei?" And when the child had taken a shuddering, snotty inhale, he continued, "What happened?"

"Bad guys. Scary." He curled tighter into the cusp of his father's neck. "Ruka says, 'go inside.'"

"Did they have a ninja plate? With zigzags?" Genma demonstrated with a finger.

The baby nodded, nose scrunched. He confirmed, "Three bad men."

A grim exchange passed between the shinobi. Kakashi was physically vibrating with rage. "They said other villages might be coming. He told me…" Subterfuge and lies. The captain had wanted him to think the threat would come from somewhere else, and he had swallowed it, as sure as a drug in his drink.

The civilian father brushed the bristles on his chin, a fretful gesture. "Has something happened to Iruka-sensei?"

Genma did not choose to answer him. Cursorily, he remarked, "Thank you for bringing this to our attention. We'll take care of it now."

His dismissive response caused something hard to seep into the man's stormy eyes. His child still sitting squarely on his hip, he said, "With all due respect, shinobi-san, he isn't only your concern."

The two jounin stared at him, but finally Kakashi said, "I don't know what may have happened yet, but I swear to you that if he's in danger, I will do everything in my power to help him."

His answer seemed to pass muster, though the man's mouth was still a grim line as he strode away. Once he had gone, Genma muttered, "This doesn't bode well, Kakashi. What would they want with him? Surely they wouldn't dare to leave the village."

"They would." Kakashi was suddenly sure of it. His teeth ground together. "That clever bastard. I'm going after them."

"No," his friend's fingers bore into his arm. "We have to report this to the Hokage. If they've breeched their contract here, then it's an act of war. She needs to know."

But all that the copy-nin could think of was the teacher's pale face under a sky of scattered stars. Of promises and absolution, and all of that crumbling to pieces as miles and miles of forest were put between them while he did nothing. He grunted, "No."

However, Genma was resolute. "Kakashi, we don't even know what's happened yet, but if they have left and you go after them alone, unsanctioned by your leader, outnumbered, unsupported… It would be unspeakably foolish. You wouldn't get him back, but you might drive them to kill their hostage." His weapon clicked in the cusp of his gritted teeth. "Or you might force Iruka to watch you die right in front of him."

Damn him, but he was right. Kakashi broke the restraining grip, but made no attempt to leave. "Alright," he acquiesced. "I'll meet you at the tower."

"Kakashi –"

"I'll be along, I swear it, Genma," he repeated, and waited until the glowering jounin finally acceded. Kakashi watched until he was well out of sight before moving into a crevice between two sheltering buildings. His blood drew thick lines, and then his primary summon appeared, glaring dourly. But whatever sarcastic groan the animal intended died over his open jowls when he saw the flint in his master's visible eye.

"Boss?" he muttered instead, clearly concerned. As well he should be.

"Could you find Naruto?" Urgency was thrumming through him as though it was laced with his blood.

The pug cocked his head, clearly unsettled by the man's brusque demeanor, his rigorous concentration. He must also have been confused by the backdrop of their city, indicating that this was no true mission. "What do you need that puppy for?" he asked, but when Kakashi's gaze only intensified, the dog's name tersely on his lips – Pakkun – he lowered his head and snuffled. "Yeah, I can find him. Why?"

"Bring him here as quickly as you can," Kakashi ordered. His mind was already meditating darkly on the audience ahead. He foresaw difficulty, obstacles that might be surmounted if only the boy was present. "Tell him that it's about Iruka."

Dark canine eyes rounded among the folds of skin, and a low whine made its way out of his mouth. "Kakashi –" he began.

"Now," the jounin cut him off. He fought the twitch that jerked his muscles toward the wall, toward the west, but Genma was right. He couldn't do this alone. "Bring him to the Hokage's tower," he said again, sanctioning no argument or call for explanation. "And, Pakkun – hurry."

Next Chapter: Tsunade does not tell Kakashi what he wants to hear, and Naruto shows up.

Author's Note: A brief word of explanation. "Mythos of a Shepherd" was originally a nine chaptered story which ended just as the Kusanin passed Konoha's walls. However, some readers left plaintive inquiries about the sad, needy children of Kusagakure, and their words warped my brain until forty more pages of story found their way into expression. I still blame them.

Dedication: To Ally Plz and xDelta-Ha-chanx. Without your innocent comments, Iruka would be curled up in his apartment eating ramen by now. Instead, he will be dragged by the scalp into a foreign land where he shall suffer injury, harsh treatment, and degradation with very little hope of rescue. I hope you are quite happy with yourselves.