Raidou was like a cat, constantly underfoot and practically tripping Genma. Since learning he was leaving soon for another mission, Raidou's mother hen tendencies surfaced, trying hard not to fret and failing miserably. He'd been at Genma's apartment all night, though Genma found a good way to quiet him for a little while so they could both sleep eventually. But as morning dawned, he was at it again, up and trying to fix breakfast and rouse Genma with that damn cheerful voice of his.
That morning, however, Genma really didn't want to get up. Not just his usual attempt at denying it was morning, not when he felt chilled badly enough to shiver and the back of his throat felt scratchy, and then sore. Raidou got him up anyway, not paying any attention to Genma's muttering and general grumpiness. He suffered through a glass of orange juice, ate half the breakfast in front of him and finally couldn't take anymore of it, snapping at Raidou thoughtlessly.
The older jounin stared at him for a moment, just a hint of hurt on his features and then he masked again, getting up to take their plates to the sink.
Genma sighed, rubbing at one of his temples as if he could will away the headache he felt pounding there. "Raidou, I'm so--"
"It's ok," Raidou interrupted, "I know, I'm being a pain again. I suppose it's because I don't want you to leave, so I annoy the hell out of you in hopes you'll say something dumb to me again and end up sticking around out of some bizarre sense of guilt."
Genma had no idea what to say to that, explained so plainly. It did seem to sum up the relationship he'd had with Raidou from the time they were old enough to discover sexuality together.
"I'm coming back, you know. It's not like the mission is going to last forever."
"I know that," Raidou looked over at him, but the smile on his lips didn't reach his eyes.
Despite his the protest of his aching body, Genma got up from the table anyway, slipping his arms around Raidou's waist and resting his head against the back of the older jounin's shoulder. "I'll come back to you, promise. Have I ever not?"
Raidou's answer came with a sigh, "You never come back to me, Genma, but yes, you've always returned."
Genma tied the head protector on, backwards as he always wore it. It felt odd to be back in the jounin uniform, like slipping into a well worn glove he'd put aside for the summer and re-examined as winter rolled around again. Raidou apologized for his passive-aggressiveness. Genma kissed him in his own way of apology. Sorry he couldn't love the older jounin with any sort of commitment. Sorry he couldn't promise to return, not really. It was dangerous to tempt fate that way.
He locked up the apartment, leaving a key tucked in a hollow space near the door in case Raidou needed or forgot something inside. Halfway down the rickety staircase, he felt the overwhelming urge to cough, grabbing onto the railing and leaning over it with the force of it. Combined with everything else, Genma knew he was coming down with something. He dared not tell anyone of it, though, poor timing to get sick just before a mission, especially one with Ibiki.
"That doesn't sound good, Genma-san."
Genma winced, recognizing Ibiki's voice. The torture and interrogation specialist stood at the bottom of the staircase, arms folded over over his torso and a grim expression on his face. One hand rose slightly from where it rested against his arm, gesturing for the other tokubetsu to come closer. He expected a hand against his forehead, but Ibiki just looked him over briefly, eyes hard as stone and just as unrevealing. "If it's just a cold, you can suffer through it, I'm sure. If you sneeze and give us away, however, I'll have to kill you."
Genma exhaled in relief, a brief chuckle emitted at Ibiki's assessment. "Yeah. I'll be fine."
They gathered their packs with any supplies needed for the trip. Ibiki was as quiet as always, making plans inwardly without informing Genma of them. Surprisingly, Aoba waited for them at the edge of the village, though Genma had no idea he was to tag along with them. A brow lifted at Ibiki and there was no response other than a very slight smile.
It meant a lot of noise along the way. Aoba chattered on about the most meaningless stuff. Ibiki grunted occasionally as if he were actually listening, but Genma knew his mind was elsewhere. The mission ahead of them, the details he would give to his fellow jounin and the details he would keep to himself. So Genma made it his duty to distract Aoba, talking to him occasionally or asking questions to get him off into another tangent. Throughout the day, he felt significantly better. Ibiki set the pace and they all kept up with it, leaving Fire Country for parts unknown.
"So, you gonna tell us what we're up to, Ibiki-san?" Aoba eventually asked. Genma figured he'd distracted him long enough and didn't bother trying again.
"We're heading for Tea Country. There's been a series of murders there, off and on, and another body was found a week ago. They requested the help of Konoha shinobi to investigate and put an end to it."
And that set Aoba off immediately, catching up to walk alongside Ibiki and bombard him with questions. "A murder? Really? How often does this happen? How come you picked me and Genma for this? We're not really investigative types."
Ibiki paused long enough to reply, "Because lately Tsunade can't be picky and choosy on who she sends where, and neither can I."
Aoba fell quiet for a few minutes after that, processing Ibiki's answer. "I think we've been insulted, Genma," he finally said with a touch of a frown.
Genma just chuckled at him, "So we have, Aoba. So we have."
They arrived in Tea Country by nightfall, stopping at the inn long enough to secure a room and drop their packs. Ibiki handed separate files to Genma and Aoba with instructions. "Read through these. It'll give you all the details you need to know about the background. I'm going to meet with Tea Country's current leader to let him know we've arrived. Likely our investigation will begin in the morning."
Genma opened the file as soon as it was given to him, glancing over the notes and photos there without really reading it yet. Ibiki wasn't done with them, either. "Both of you, stay here until I return. No wandering off." Genma could have sworn the torture and interrogation specialist was looking right at him as he said that.
"What, don't trust us?" he said with a grin, and then couldn't help the sudden coughing fit that had him nearly doubled over with the force of it.
"You know, Genma-kun, you're starting to sound like Hayate now," Aoba observed idly. "Wow, you even have those dark smudges under your eyes!"
Ibiki sighed and scrubbed his face with a hand. "Aoba, just read the file. Genma, you wander off anywhere and I'll personally tie your hands to the headboard."
Breathless, grateful just to have finally stopped coughing for a moment, Genma managed to choke out, "Sounds kinky," before Ibiki had cleared the door and closed it.
It began several decades ago. The first murder was discovered by a woman scouring the woods for certain herbs. After that, there had been five others documented. They all died the same kind of death, found in the same position with the same alien markings on them. None of them appeared to be related whatsoever, except that all but one of them had been shinobi from other villages. One from Rain, one from Cloud, two from Mist and one villager from Stone.
Each murder occurred between five and ten years apart. No one had any idea who was committing them, but all Hidden Villages contacted claimed innocence. Murdered shinobi had all been originally pronounced dead by various means. Everything from death during combat to simply having passed away after a lingering illness. There was no explanation how they managed to be murdered when they were already supposed to be dead. Only the first victim, the villager from Stone, had been declared missing and she was found five years later in the forests of Tea country, near the shoreline.
Genma spread the pictures out over the bed to study their details further. Aoba looked at them for a moment, but refused to sit on the edge of the bed, or be anywhere near his fellow jounin. While this didn't particularly bother Genma, who rather liked having his space, it did raise his curiosity, eventually asking what the hell Aoba's problem was.
"I think you caught whatever Hayate had. So I don't want to get it from you," Aoba answered stiffly.
"Hayate died several months ago, Aoba-san. I doubt I could catch anything from him now."
But that didn't deter Aoba. Genma worried about it quietly, knowing enough about incubation periods to realize he very well could have inherited Hayate's sickness of mysterious origin. He seemed to have come down with it just as abruptly, fine one day and coughing up his lungs the next and unable to sleep so much there were permanent bags under his eyes. Genma had worried for him, biting his lip to keep from playing mother hen the way Raidou kept trying to do.
When Hayate was finally forced to quit ANBU, it was apparent that he really did have a problem. Yet none of the medical nin who studied his condition had any way to explain it. He had no infection they could treat. No cancer to be operated on. Nothing apparently wrong with him. Yet he coughed constantly, sounding as if he might very well hack up his lungs at any given moment and had strange and sudden fevers that came and went without reason.
That wasn't what killed him, in the end, Hayate had been murdered. Genma thought it fitting, that he would die serving Konoha rather than from sickness. He only wished they had found his murderer, or had even an inkling of an identity.
He would have sworn revenge, but it seemed so futile to do so when all attempts at investigation lead no where.
Ibiki returned a few hours later, bringing with him cups of hot tea and bento boxes. He even brought back a bag of cough drops for Genma, quietly holding it behind his back while fielding yet more questions from Aoba. Genma squeezed his hand once as he took it in way of thank you. Both for the cough drops and for the discrete method of handing them over. He really didn't want to get Aoba started on his illness again.
Aoba refused to be anywhere near Genma that night. There were only two beds in the room to begin with. While Ibiki started off sleeping next to Aoba, eventually Genma woke to the sensation of the mattress compressing. Ibiki leaned over him, murmuring, "Save me, please," in the most quiet deadpan Genma had ever heard from him. With a quiet chuckle, he rolled over and made room for the interrogation specialist, who could survive being tortured in the most terrifying, cruel and horrific manners known to shinobi and survive it, but was unable to sleep next to Aoba's constant snore and incoherent mutterings.
Shadows they were, unseen in the darkness of a moonless night. They broke the streetlamp with a thought and rested together on the rooftop, eyes on the only window granting egress into the little inn room on the second floor.
"There is movement inside. They are restless," the first said.
"Of course they are," the second replied. "Is it time yet? I grow tired of observing. I want the flesh we've been promised."
"Not yet. The specimen isn't ready for harvesting yet."
"Well when will he be ready? Why does Master need another specimen? He has a new one to play with." The second pouted, lower lip jutting outward.
The first sensed a temper tantrum forming. "Tomorrow, maybe. Master will be upset if he isn't ripe yet. If we move too soon he'll punish us."
The second cringed, a memory triggered at the mention of punishment. A pink tongue darted over his lips, hungry. The first knew he wouldn't be able to hold his twin back for long. "Come. There is other prey here. We will hunt and feast and wait to take the specimen."