Pretty Wings

A Kakashi x Iruka fic

by Magnificent Meow

Was the last chapter too confusing? I know it's a bit vague in spots, but it's supposed to be... o.o. Hopefully this chapter will provide some answers. ::coughs:: maybe. Luckily this chapter turned out MUCH longer than I had anticipated.

Many thanks for the reviews :3 I appreciate it and ADORE YOU ALL ---------- :D

Chapter 2: The Scarecrow Speaks

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He lay in the bed like a lazy cat, vaguely aware of his surroundings, but hardly caring. He knew they had stripped him of his weapons and most, if not all, of his wet clothing, leaving him nearly naked with his presumably bandaged wounds. Beyond that, he could feel his muscles twitch with their aches, but for the large part he felt numb, like his body had given up and had become one with the pain.

He could hear voices hovering around him, but he didn't bother himself with what they were saying. None of it was important and none of it concerned him; at least not yet. Perhaps soon...he thought patiently. Perhaps soon they will reveal themselves...

Taking a deep breath now he caught the bland smell of medicinal herbs, an admittedly friendly scent, even in the midst of unknown territory. It was like the soft odor was pulling him into sleep - a sort of psychedelic tonic. It was strangely comfortable and he was tempted to relax in its scent, but, as if he remembered who and where he was, he pulled his mind back into the situation for his own safety.

My mask and forehead protector. They've both been removed...

Disappointed, he paused searching for a line of action in his mind.

I can't let them see me like this...

He wished he could open his eyes, but his head kept telling him to wait for the opportune moment. If they knew he was awake, it could only make things worse, and his eyes were so heavy with sleep. Still, he wanted to see the prison they had encased him in, and to see the faces of those who watched him, eyeing him like he was evil, waiting for him to make a wrong move. But to him, he had already made his mistake, and this was the punishment.

He got caught.

Worse, he got caught doing what he did best.

He wouldn't make another error.

Hoping to prove to himself that he was in fact alive and functional, the man flexed the muscles in his arms and legs, testing his body, cursing silently at the stiffness. From the feel of it, his right leg was in poor shape and thickly bandaged, along with several lesser wounds across his back, and at least one more on his left arm near his shoulder.

With so many injuries escape could be difficult.

But before he could even consider the term 'escape', his thoughts were interrupted by an unwelcome presence, and one that was coming ever too close. Suddenly, he felt vulnerable.

The danger was approaching his face.

He opened his eyes and lashed out with his arm in what was almost an instinctive reflex. "Come near me and I'll rip your fucking arm off," he growled, gripping the wrist of the intruder so firmly that the man, who was apparently only trying to help, couldn't even pull away in his fear.

The two shinobi who had been keeping guard in the hallway peered in to see what was happening as the doctor spoke shakily. "It's for your own good! You need to take this medici --"

The silver haired man forced his strength and slapped the bottle of pills from the hands of his cowardly assailant, watching as the bottle was obliterated into hundreds of tiny shards, spilling its colourful contents onto the floor. "I won't take it," he mumbled.

Fully awake now and a little pissed off, the silver haired ninja pushed himself up and peered around the room. It must have been a hospital or clinic of sorts since the room held medical instruments and other such supplies. The lone window beside the bed was barred off preventing any (easy) escape, but that could be fixed with a little time and effort. He made a point to take note of anything that could be useful in the near future.

Still trailing around the room, ignoring the stares that were so rudely fixated on him, two mismatched orbs caught sight of a familiar pile of fabric draped across the bedside chair. Immediately he started making his way to them, hoisting himself off the bed, biting back the pain that shot through his wounded leg. He stumbled for a moment, almost collapsing to the floor, but he managed to hold himself together enough to reach his goal, brushing away the doctor's plea to stop.

And one pair of eyes disappeared.

Still not caring about his guests, or rather, his hosts, which were now two instead of three, the silver haired ninja grabbed hold of his shirt and precious mask, pulling them on almost immediately despite the random blood stains and unfortunately dampened smell. He was a ninja after all, and would have to make do with what he had. He quickly flipped up the mask so that it covered the lower portion of his face and immediately grabbed his head protector and tied it so that it fell over his curiously red-toned eye.

By the end of it, so much of his face was covered that he became difficult to recognize and difficult to read, but that was the way he liked it. As he reached for his pants which were somewhat torn from the kunai, his senses flared. Now his hosts were seven strong.

So number three went for backup, did he?

He shrugged it off without a second thought. I won't be able to get very far any time soon, anyway.

The silver haired shinobi continued pulling on his clothing, tightly holding back any cries of pain that might fall from his lips, careful not to tear the bandages that wrapped his body. At least his company was kind enough to treat his wounds. Part of him wanted to thank them, but he held back, knowing that the kindness was mandatory in a situation such as this one.

The questions will begin soon, he sighed. I still can't believe I made such a mistake.

His fist tightened around the back of the chair, partly out of anger and partly for support.

If I tell them anything, their options will be limited.

The silence was short lived when, rather impatiently, one of the awaiting voices called out. "Oi! If you're looking for your weapons you won't find them. We --"

"Stop babbling," the masked ninja raised his hand, casually cutting the man off and not once moving to face him. Instead he continued fastening his gear. "I'm just putting my clothes on. It's a perfectly normal thing for a man to do," he paused for a moment in thought, "unless of course you -want- to see me naked."

Without any response, the sly ninja grinned beneath his mask.

Moron.

Satisfied with his getup, the darkly clad ninja casually turned to greet his captors. He was correct in that he had counted seven of them; six with strong chakras, plus the doctor who was likely not unskilled in his own right, but could be easily overpowered if given the chance. The masked shinobi couldn't help but feel this was a waste of his time, but sadly there was no way out.

"It's time we asked you some questions," one rather burly man began. (By the sound of it he had been the one to speak earlier.)

The silver haired ninja cautiously sat down on the chair with his head in his hand, bored on all accounts. "Yare, yare," he mumbled, looking at them with a lazy expression. "Try all you like, but I won't be telling you anything."

- - - - - - - - - -

Iruka rolled to his side and groaned as sunlight poured in through his window. His body ached from head to toe, leaving not an inch of comfortable space on his entire self. Still clothed in the shirt and pants that he regularly wore as his shinobi outfit, the chuunin lay huddled within the soft blankets of his bed, tugging the edges close to his face for ultimate comfort. Upon the sudden interruption-by-sunlight, he proceeded to nuzzle his face into his pillow, effectively shielding it from the sun's 'poisonous' rays. (Sunlight and sleeping are mortal enemies, after all.)

Still lacking the comfort he wanted, the familiar sensei with the uniquely scarred face threw his arm out and draped it over the edge of his bed; a move which proved to be the worst of all, as the sudden jolt of pain forced his eyes open and his voice to cry out.

"Owwwwwwwwwwwww!" he shouted, sitting up suddenly and clutching his shoulder with his left hand. "Bakaaaaaaa!"

As he rose, several stray strands of hair drooped in his face, tickling his cheek as they combed over his skin, a dilemma of sorts for his occupied hands one of which was still holding his shoulder and the other being used for support.

He sighed.

Not good, not good.

Hoping it was just a bad start to his day, Iruka looked at the scene outside of his window, eyes still adjusting to the light. He remembered something about a storm last night. And having to go out. And fighting. Yeah. There was fighting. And Naruto was there and...

Oh shit!

The chuunin stumbled out of bed, tossing his blankets to the floor, only to trip over those blankets and collapse in the fluffy heap. He remembered now why he was in so much pain as the events of the night before flashed inside his head. The memories of the cold, wet evening sent shivers down his spine.

Still unsure that it had all been just a dream, Iruka forced his mind over the thoughts slowly, reciting the last steps of the night.

"I was tending to Naruto's wound..."

He paused to laugh quietly, remembering Naruto's face while he washed the injury. The boy's expressions played out like a drama as Iruka stung him with the treatment, and they were much too priceless for words.

Naruto will hate me for weeks, he grinned. I wish I had a camera.

Of course he made a mental note not to tell Naruto that some of the same expressions crossed HIS face when he had awkwardly tended to his own wound. The grin faded into an amused smile as Iruka pursed his lips and gave a quick nod. That much would have to be a secret.

"That's right," he looked down at his right shoulder. "When Naruto left, I treated myself."

Beneath his clothes, he became aware of the bandages that were wrapped tightly across his chest and shoulder that made him feel like a stiff old man. The sensei shifted his position and lifted his arm slowly, testing his shoulder for its strength, only to find that -everything- hurt and his shoulder was really nothing special.

A sigh fell from his lips. So young and yet so old.

"And," he gestured to his clothing, pulling at the base of his shirt, "After that I was getting ready to go help the others, which explains why I put this back on."

He frowned, still a bit confused.

"I must have fallen asleep."

Disturbed by the lack of inhibition that was supposed to have prevented him from laying down and catnapping in situations like these, Iruka pushed himself up off of the floor, careful not to slip on the blankets again, and looked at his clock.

It was almost nine.

Nine.

I've been asleep for... he calculated the time in his head ... five hours already.

It took a moment for that to register, but as soon as it did he threw his hand up to his head. "FIVE HOURS!!"

Moving quickly, he grabbed the cleanest uniform he could find and ran from his bedroom, simultaneously trying to pull on his gloves and slide into his vest. (Not an easy task!)

Once he had managed to apply his uniform with relative quality and neatness, he mentally decided at that point to forget about the breakfast and head straight for clinic, where they were likely housing that weird ninja fellow.

And hopefully everything's going well.

- - - - - - - - - -

As the chuunin walked down the halls of the small clinic he could hear the sound of voices, a little too energetic, and perhaps a bit overbearing. The shouts echoed off of the bland, pasty walls, likely disrupting more than just the patients. And was that a new crack in the plaster he saw? Asuma sure knew how to get the job done when he needed to.

Upon reaching his destination (just by following the sounds), the chuunin stood at the open door, hesitant to announce his presence and disturb the, er, 'ceremony'. Instead he watched quietly as the events unfolded in front of him, much like a pathetic play.

"I don't CARE!!" the bearded man shouted. "If you're gonna keep your fucking mouth shut then we're going to have to do some very -nasty- things to you," he growled.

Iruka struggled to see the man Asuma was speaking to since the others were crowded in the room, circling like vultures around the prey trapped in the corner. The sensei considered pushing his way through, but as he caught a better glimpse of the silver hair and mask he remembered the fear that had crossed his mind the night before and decided it was best that he waited where he stood.

"Oh?" The scarecrow-like figure sitting in the corner purred. "This from the man who wanted to see me naked, hm? I can only imagine what sort of -nasty- things YOU would like to do to me," his voice rolled towards the bearded man, lusty and deep.

Asuma's eyes shot open as several muffled giggles filled the room.

I think I've missed a lot, Iruka thought to himself, scratching his head. However, not even he could hide a smirk as he caught another glimpse of a rather satisfied looking masked shinobi in the corner. Watching quietly from his near-hiding spot Iruka stared at the lazy eyed ninja with a hesitant awe. The man was surprisingly confident for a captive.

He continued to watch silently as several moments passed, eyes stuck upon the mysterious figure. With a quirky smile still drawn upon his lips, Iruka felt impressed by the young man, whom he assumed couldn't be much older than himself, if not younger. He did his best not to stare, but it was only when a certain eye drifted towards him, piercing his entire being, that Iruka realized he was still smiling and turned away, thankful that the strange man had made no other efforts to acknowledge his presence.

Unfortunately, another did.

"Iruka-sensei!"

Iruka turned his head towards the hallway to see who was calling and jumped nervously when he realized who it was. "H..Hokage-sama!!" he stuttered, bowing profusely, "I didn't see you. I'm sorry."

Amused, the Hokage waved his hand as if to pardon the younger man. "It's all right, Iruka. How is your injury?"

An arm quickly flung behind Iruka's head, scratching innocently. "It's just fine," he grinned. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, so it will heal quickly."

As if not entirely pleased by the news, the Hokage gave an odd smile before looking past the chuunin into the room. "And how are the developments here?" he asked.

"Um," Iruka began, "I don't really know, I've only been here for a few minutes, myself."

The elderly man let out a sigh as he looked into the room, voices and actions halting as he took a step inside. All eyes were on the man in robes, curious as to what he would do, wondering what his tactic was, if there was any at all.

Sandaime ignored the crowd as he walked to the centre of the small place, his own worn out orbs locked on his target. Many pairs of eyes followed him with worried looks, but no one moved or said a word, confused about the Hokage's presence. When the elderly man reached his desired spot, he spoke bluntly.

"Everyone, I would like you to leave. I need to speak with this man alone," he said, nodding towards the masked man.

And for a moment there was nothing.

But then, as if the permission for chaos had been granted, the members of the room stuttered miserably over the old man's actions. "H.Hokage sama! This man, he might --"

A raised arm.

"I am aware of your concerns, and I acknowledge that they have a good basis. However, I feel no danger. Please... leave."

Chaos pausing, a whispering quiet filled the room.

"That is, all except for you, Iruka-sensei." He turned to the man still waiting at the door. "I have a favour to ask of you."

The others pushed out of the room, eyeing the chuunin-sensei as if he was in on the whole twisted plot. As they passed, Iruka gave them all innocent glances, trying to maintain his calm demeanor, but he too was concerned, not just for the Hokage, but for himself. What did the old man want from him?

Iruka watched his fellow shinobi leave down the hallway before closing the door behind them.

This... could be a very bad day, he thought to himself.

The Hokage also waited for the presence of his village ninjas to disappear before he made his move. When he was certain that the room and it's general area held only his own self, Iruka and the enemy, the old man spoke to the shinobi seated in the corner with a firm, authoritative voice.

"I do not like men who disrupt the peace of this village..." the Hokage began.

"And so logically, nor do I like you, Hatake Kakashi."

Confused, Iruka blinked twice, rolling over the name in his mind.

Hatake...Kakashi?

TBC

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Well, obviously Kakashi's gonna be a little (or a lot) OOC since he's got a bit of a different background in this story. We'll have to see what happens to him :3.

And poor Iruka, falling out of bed like that...

Please let me know what you think. I was actually tempted to cut this chapter off earlier so it was shorter, but.. I decided against it. I hope that was the right decision X3