The Silent Blade: Hunter

Author: Carcinya (Isolde1 on fanfiction(dot)net)
Author E-mail: carcinya(at)yahoo(dot)com
Category: Action/Adventure/Romance
Keywords: Naruto Hunter-nin Iruka Kakashi
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Possible up to episode 145
Summary: The way of the ninja is shrouded in shadows and mysteries. But some secrets are not meant to be unveiled, as Kakashi painfully discovers, when he pries into something he probably should not have. Book 1, KakaIru Edited version
Disclaimer: This story is based on situations and characters created and owned by Masashi Kishimoto, various publishers including but not limited to TV Tokyo. No money is being made and no copyright infringement intended.

Now, now, people. If Naruto was mine, do you really think I'd be sitting at my computer, sipping bad coffee, and writing bad fanfiction? Honestly.

Author's notes: I apologize in advance for any spelling or grammar mistake there might be in this story. I am French, and still only learning the beautiful language that is English. Besides, I don't have a beta-reader. Poor me. Any comments are welcome, but obviously flames will be used to roast marshmallows. Yummy.


Glossary

Tentan No Jutsu: Jutsu of Disinterest.
Ken Yuuki No Jutsu: Jutsu of Sword Evocation.
Dairi: Palace.

§§§

Chapter 2: One Step Closer

The cure for boredom is curiosity. There is no cure for curiosity.

-- Dorothy Parker

§§§

After Kurenai had left, Iruka stared at his seventh cup of coffee morosely, trying to digest both his enormous breakfast and his friend's disturbing, if veracious, remarks. Hard as it was to admit, she was right: he had been careless. The last weeks had taken their toll on both his health and his sanity -- leading a double life had never been easy, and especially not when there was so much for him to do, as a teacher as well as a Hunter.

However, that mission had affected him more than he cared to admit. He couldn't shake off the horrid image of the mutilated, blue-eyed Genin from his mind. He didn't know what he would do if something happened to Naruto. To be completely truthful, he didn't want to think about it.

Iruka got up slowly, downed the coffee in one gulp, and dropped the mug carelessly into the sink. Picking up his swords, he also grabbed a dishcloth and a small bottle of oil from the chest, and made his way to the couch. There, he began polish them with an ease born of years of habit. The ritual task, as usual, soothed him, chasing off all thoughts other than the rhythmic motion of his hands.

The Hunter looked in satisfaction at his work. The blades were once again gleaming. His hands, too, were clean. It was in his soul than the blood never really washed off.

He blinked.

Oh, no, you don't, he berated himself sternly. No brooding on a day off.

With a wry smile, the young man sheathed the weapons back in their scabbards. He still had to make his report, he remembered with a long-suffering sigh. Tsunade-sama would be waiting for him. Well, she is going to wait a little more. In the privacy of his mind, Iruka couldn't bring himself to call her Hokage-sama. Only Sandaime deserved that title, as far as he was concerned, and right now he was lying in a cold grave.

He would miss him -- already did -- both as a leader, and as a friend. It had not been an easy decision for sixteenth-year-old Iruka to become Hunter, and the Hokage's support had been invaluable to him. True enough, he had been flattered -- who wouldn't be? But he had also been scared. He still was, in a way. Scared to lose himself into Kurohyou, to see Iruka forgotten... to become a mindless killer, just like the ninjas he was ordered to slay.

Iruka found it increasingly difficult to look at himself in a mirror.

The young man grimaced. There he was, moping and wallowing in self-pity, when there was so much to be done. He shook his head decidedly, and began mapping out his day. First, his report. He suddenly remembered that he would have to wear his uniform, which was rather dirty from yesterday's fight. Ewww. The things I do for Konoha... Then, lunch with Naruto, if he could find him.

He quickly donned the clothes and put on his boots. He considered the swords, still laying on the couch, and hesitated, wondering if he would really need them. Then again, better safe than sorry, as the saying went. Making up his mind, he seized the scabbards and fastened them at their customary place. Tsume hung to his belt on his left hip, secured above the knee by a leather strap, while Kiba sagely rested across his back in its harness -- making them both easier to draw out and less of a hinder during a fight.

Last but not least, he slipped on his porcelain mask, feeling the weight of his responsibilities settle back on his shoulders as he did so.

"Tentan No Jutsu," he breathed, his hands moving faster than the human eye could follow in a quick succession of seals. This move was taught to Hunters and ANBU only. While not technically making the user invisible, the jutsu worked as a sort of "notice-me-not" spell, relying solely on the mind of the people around him. It was its main strength, for it did not waste too much chakra, but also its chief weakness -- trained eyes would see him, unless he used other means of concealment.

Outside, he surveyed the bustling city for a while, wishing he could feel the warm morning sun on his face. Then, in a puff of smoke, he vanished and sped off toward Konoha No Dairi, the Hokage's palace. Built above the former Hokages' carvings, the massive edifice of white stone towered above the village, a striking symbol of the leader protectively watching over the citizens.

Iruka landed noiselessly on the edge of the sparkling, golden-tiled roof. He leaped, and, with an elegant twist, slipped through one of the windows. Once inside, he removed the concealing jutsu. He walked down the wooden hallways, noting appreciatively that they were empty, which was not surprising, given the early hour -- eight o'clock had not even struck yet. Not that it bothered him. He liked his peace and quiet -- he blamed it on being an Academy teacher with particularly noisy classes.

"Buuuut, Kakashi-senseiiiii ...!" yelled a nearby voice. "It was Sasuke's fault!"

Wishful thinking, Iruka. His annoyance quickly dissipated, however, as he recognized Naruto's unmistakable whiny timbre. He wondered idly what the boy could have done to be sent to the Hokage at this hour.

As the infamous trio and their accordingly weird teacher came into view, Iruka smiled under his mask. Maybe he could play a little. The three Genins's eyes widened comically when they spotted him. Naruto stopped dead in his rant, Sakura's hand froze mid-punch, and even Sasuke bumped into them. Kakashi barely looked up from his reading.

"Ah, good morning, Kurohyou-sama," he offered, blue eye twinkling. Sakura and Naruto glared at him, irked by his nonchalance. Sasuke, being essentially himself, seemed merely bored.

Iruka nodded in acknowledgment, but stayed silent. He stopped before Naruto, tilted his head as if considering him, then, bowing slightly, said:

"Naruto-san."

As the Hunter turned away, he glimpsed the boy blushing in delight, and beamed even though there was no one to see it. He wondered why he had not done that sooner. Naruto deserved all the encouragement he could get, after all.

He did not notice Kakashi one-eyed, quizzical gaze on his back, following him until he disappeared behind the large oak doors of the Hokage's office.

§§§

Iruka had not been into the Hokage's office since Sandaime's death. Somehow, he had always managed to meet Godaime elsewhere -- on a roof, on the carvings, even at the memorial stone. Anywhere but the Hokage's office. He knew he would have to face reality of his friend's passing one day or another, and all things considered, today was as good as any.

He did not knock, both because he never did, and because he had not bothered to screen his chakra -- which, given his power, plainly amounted to waving a flag "Kurohyou is there!" for any somewhat skilled ninja to see. And Tsunade-sama was not exactly your average shinobi. In more ways than one, he mused wryly.

Unsurprisingly, he felt the presence of Kuma and Yamainu in an adjoining room. The two Hunters were keeping a close guard on Godaime at all time, permanently on the lookout for an attack on her person -- Iruka in all honesty did not envy them. He would rather track a wild beast anytime than watch over one, as far as he was concerned.

The Fifth Hokage sat on her mahogany desk, legs crossed suggestively, her long, ash blonde hair framing her fine-featured face, currently set in a pout. She was a beautiful woman, Iruka admitted, but he couldn't bring himself to appreciate her. He didn't know exactly why.

She looked up as he entered the room, and graced him with a predatory smile. It did not quite reach her amber eyes.

"You don't like me much, do you, Iruka?"

Oh, yes. That was why.

The Hunter sighed wearily, and would have pinched the bridge of his nose if he had been able to reach it. Damn mask.

"Is everybody in this village determined to disclose my secret? Because, if you are, go ahead. It sure would spare me some trouble," retorted Iruka dryly, eluding the question.

She raised an innocent, perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"I heard you got hurt yesterday," she said all of a sudden, changing tactics. The rather abrupt shift in the conversation did not unsettle him, to her slight dismay.

"Nothing a few days' rest won't cure," he assured her curtly, inwardly fuming. Kurenai was going to get a piece of his mind as soon as he could get his paws on her. "As for the report ..."

She eyed him without enthusiasm. "You're no fun, you know that?"

Iruka seemed to consider her remark for a moment. "Probably not," he agreed blandly, before launching in a comprehensive account of their mission. Tsunade watched him out of the corner of her eye, nibbling her lower lip pensively.

When he was finished, he bowed curtly, replaced his concealing jutsu, and headed for the open window. He was about to jump outside when Tsunade soft question stopped him.

"Why do you hate me so much?"

One gloved hand on the window's frame, all his body stiffening, Iruka did not answer immediately. During a few seconds, silence hung thick between them, only broken by the light rustle of the white linen curtains.

"I don't hate you, Tsunade-sama," he said at last. "It's just that ..."

"... I am not Sandaime," she finished with a wan smile.

He turned to her then, a silent, immobile shadow in the sunlight, his black hair billowing eerily in the light breeze. She wasn't looking at goodhearted, easygoing Iruka anymore. Kurohyou stood before her, and she could feel the intensity of his gaze even through the mask. Their eyes locked, dark slits against amber irises, Hokage against Hunter. A shudder crawled up her spine -- not from fear, but a strange emotion she had not felt in a long time.

Anguish.

"No," he confirmed quietly, "You are not."

Iruka leaped through the window without another word, feeling suddenly very old, and very cold.

§§§

Four hours later, Iruka in his regular Chuunin uniform walked down the streets of Konoha. He felt oddly naked without his faithful swords, which was quite absurd, since he could summon them at a moment's notice using the Ken Yuuki No Jutsu. Of course, that would rather blow his cover away, Tsume and Kiba having a reputation of their own.

Maybe he should just retire, he thought, and become a Jounin. Iruka wondered, with a sardonic smile, what it revealed about him that he should find a Jounin's life restful. He had often been sorely tempted to do it, but never did. He was acutely aware of his responsibilities to the village -- making his failure during the last attack all the more painful. Besides, he liked his job at the Academy. Small children were mostly innocent and uncomplicated, and he never felt better than with them.

Iruka tried his best to be there for them all, just like he would have wanted his parents to be when he was younger. Sandaime had, in a way, but it had not been the same -- the Hokage had to take care of everyone in the village. Konohamaru especially was going to need him, and he fully intended to support him through the trials of grief and loss.

How could he abandon them?

The answer was simple, and had never wavered since he took up the mask of Kurohyou: he could not.

And would not.

That last thought brought sincere joy, and a small measure of peace, to his heart, for the first time since Sandaime's death. He was needed. That was what kept him going, day after day, night after night. And sometimes, when he just felt like ending it all for good, his children's smile reminded him there were things in this world, amidst all the pain and the horror, that were worth living and fighting for.

He had left open his flak jacket, as the weather was surprisingly warmer than was usual in Konoha. The sun was high, almost at its zenith, with no clouds to be seen, and all in all, it looked like the day would be particularly radiant. As far as Iruka was concerned, it would be if he managed to find a certain orange-clad, spiky-haired hellion. Which shouldn't be too hard, given Iruka's tracking skills and Naruto's tendency to eat naught but ramen. Though the Hunter knew better than to expect anything of him...

As he neared Ichiraku, the strong scent of hot ramen made his mouth water, even though he wasn't really hungry. As expected, Naruto was wolfing down bowl after bowl of ramen. He also noticed, to his slight irritation, that Kakashi was there too. He hadn't been on the best of terms with the man since the Chuunin exam incident, and after the attack, they obviously didn't have any time to talk it out. Sakura spotted him first, and waved happily at him. He greeted her with genuine affection as he plopped down next the oblivious Naruto. Sasuke did not so much as glance at him, but Iruka saluted him anyway.

At last, he turned to Kakashi, who seemed to be rather engrossed in his reading.

"Good afternoon, Kakashi-sensei," Iruka said politely. The Jounin waved at him distractedly, not bothering to look up.

The Hunter grimaced, then shrugged philosophically and ordered some ramen for him and Naruto -- eliciting squeals of delight from the hyperactive Genin. He listened patiently as the boy related his "exploits" and basically everything that had happened to him since they had last seen each other --including the disastrous mission of that morning, when he had accidentally set fire to a old man's wig.

Iruka almost felt sorry for Tsunade-sama.

Unbeknownst to the young man, Kakashi was watching him intently. The Jounin was a curious man by nature, and the young teacher intrigued him. During the few months since their first 'meeting', he had made a point of putting all his ninja's skills into observing him, cataloguing every little detail he could glean in his considerable memory.

Iruka wasn't exactly handsome, Kakashi estimated. He wasn't masculine enough for that -- not very tall, with a lithe, willowy frame, narrow shoulders and hips. Yet he was an attractive man, by anyone's standards: he had a firm, lean body taut with flat wiry muscles, a shock of dark sleek hair tied up in a ponytail, stray locks framing his face, high cheekbones and fine features -- though of a different character than was usual amongst the Konoha villagers. The scar crossing his nose only added to his air of exoticism.

There was freedom in his step, an unconscious confidence that he could not smother, no more than his easy smile and quick laugh. He had the silent walk of an experienced shinobi, unexpected in a Chuunin, and yet some of his reactions to Kakashi's teasing -- such as his surprising tendency to blush at every little remark -- were downright childish, if endearing. Iruka didn't wear his emotions on his sleeve, but in his eyes. They were what Kakashi liked the most in him, chocolate brown eyes, alight with a strange glee -- almost as if he knew something they didn't.

But they could also blaze with a disturbing intensity -- Kakashi knew that well, having been on the receiving end of Iruka's wrath more than once. He remembered especially that one time, before the Chuunin exam, when he had nominated his students against the younger man's judgment. There had been fire in his eyes then, a burning desire to protect someone he held dear -- namely Naruto, a boy he had more than enough reason to hate, and yet didn't. His fierceness had angered Kakashi, because it had stirred something in him he hadn't cared to admit -- envy. Not for Iruka, but for Naruto, paradoxically. A deep, abiding craving to be that important to someone.

All in all, the young Chuunin was still a veritable mystery to him -- and one Kakashi was quite determined to uncover.


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