Chapter 6

Isetchi Yoti leaned on the doorframe as he prepared to say goodbye, shaking his head. "It's never easy. Well, hang in there. It isn't your fault, you know. Just let the Adjudicator break it to him. He'll be getting the notice sometime in the next week."

Shibi grimaced. "Did they say what ward he'd be assigned to?"

"He's a little young for it, but they slotted him into the teen ward. He'll still be able to come and go as he pleases there."

"Tell me about it. Other than the high risk kids that I was keeping tabs on, no one's watching them at all. There's just no manpower. I go back on active mission status next week myself."

"Well, it'll be easier to look out for them once they're not all scattered in individual housing. I'm sure that's why they're doing this. And from what I saw he'll be a lot better off. I couldn't find any sign that he'd been living in the house. One of the neighbors told me that one time they saw him sleeping on the ground outside. That just makes no sense at all."

"Things are pretty confusing for him right now. He can definitely use some structure. And they'll have food for him, too, it doesn't seem that he's caring for himself all that well." Shibi sighed. "It's for the best, I guess. But I feel like I should warn him. He's the last of his line, I'm sure they must have heirlooms and such that would need to be stored."

"I don't know if you really want to warn him. But if you do, watch out for his reaction. They'll take him in alone and confine him before they give them the news at the center. There were a few incidents they don't want repeated. These kids are old enough that they need a few precautions in place before you tell them something this heavy. They have a tendency to get stupid when they hear this is not optional. If you tell him, you'd better restrain him first. He's still in rough shape, seems to me."

"He hasn't had nearly enough time to do any real adjusting. It just seems like a pathetic replacement for the home and family life he's lost. We have so little for them there, it's just subsistence."

"But, realistically, what more does he need? He'll have the basics. Food, shelter…safety, too, now that the threat is over. There's nothing to harm him here in the village. The hard truth is that we can't bring his parents back to life for him. He has to face that on his own no matter what. He's not an infant. There's not much more to be done for him; the rest is really up to him."

"Well, I do appreciate the heads-up. I should probably go look in on him. Yoti-kun, I'll see you tomorrow."

"You bet. Look, you've been a big help to these kids, you should feel good about that. And now that they have a safe place to stay, maybe you should try and let it go. You'll have to concentrate on your mission work again anyway. Hopefully we'll be going on one together pretty soon, huh? Just hanging round the village all the time gets old fast. Later, Shibi-kun."

The door shut, leaving the troublesome situation in the bug jounin's care.

Iruka's little mishap had brought his situation to the immediate attention of the administrators and they'd ruled on his status at once. They were claiming the house and furnishings under domain rights, and using an ages old wartime statute to take all of the assets of the dead unless specifically willed to adult beneficiaries in good standing. By the time the administration was through, Iruka would have nothing, and he would be remanded to the teen ward – basically just a room - in the small orphanage that was now growing past capacity.

Shibi stepped into the room and Iruka eyed him cautiously, sitting up in the bed waiting to be allowed to dress and leave. His nagging headache and sore hands kept him awake now and his twenty-four hour watch was over four hours ago, and still he hadn't been allowed to leave. He automatically looked down and past the man, looking for Shino, but the toddler was nowhere to be seen. He stiffened when the door closed and locked, leaving the two of them alone in a way they had not been before. Something was up. The hairs on the back of his neck agreed. When the older man approached, before he even opened his mouth, Iruka grew nervous waiting for the words.

Shibi had made up his mind that he would just give Iruka an option today. Something to fall back on if he chose to when the bad news came. He decided that his friend was right, it might be better to let the officials handle the difficulties of ordering Iruka into the ward. If he handled it badly, or if the information was not entirely correct, he wouldn't be doing the boy any favors by telling him now.

It was unrealistic to think that he would want to stay at the Aburame compound if he didn't have to at this point. But Shibi figured that he would make an open-ended offer anyway. He liked Iruka, always had, from the time he first lurched to his feet and stared drooling up at the poker party. At the time Shibi was younger, and generally unimpressed with little kids. But Iruka was so cute and comical, with his stern looks and tiny voice pointing out potential threats and breaches of conduct. All his dad's friends had developed a great fondness for him over the course of their visits.

Iruka's deadly seriousness about being a shinobi began before the little guy could express it properly in words.

With his injured body and pride, he was not inclined to express himself now, either. He did not make any explanation or excuse when the invitation to stay on indefinitely was presented; in his experience with dealing with adults, the less said the better. If he gave reasons they would be disputed; if he explained his feelings they would be dismissed. So he simply shook his head no and took his clothing quietly, his actions politely declining the offer while his only words thanked the elder Aburame for his kindness and asked that he be allowed to return home.

o0o0o0o0o

Mizuki had done a little asking around, and he'd caught sight of the red-haired disarming specialist working around the Umino property alone. He'd pieced together enough of the story that he wasn't offended or worried when Iruka didn't make their meeting. But he was fairly certain that Iruka would be back to see him at his spot some day after that. It threw him that it had been a couple of days and still no sign of the little twit.

His hopes rose every time he approached the clearing by the stream, in spite of the fact he tried to convince himself he didn't care one way or the other if the kid ever came back. He checked after his shift, later in the evening, on the way to his post in the morning, and even during one of his lunch breaks. It blacked his mood to find the area deserted, and no indication that anyone had been there.

Today it was finally different. He sensed Iruka before he saw him, but it wouldn't have taken any great ninja skills to find him. He was sitting by the water, rocking back and forth inconsolably. A pillowcase sat next to him on the ground, and he was hardly silent, choking on the effort to cry quietly.

It was a welcome sight. Mizuki knew this was coming. Not only had he predicted it, now word of the roundup of the scattering of loose kids was the latest hot topic. Konoha's shame, the councilman had called it in the speech broadcast from the administrator's forum, leaving the orphaned shinobi youth to fend for themselves on the street, as if there were hundreds of starving waifs hiding in dumpsters around the city. In truth, it was a relatively small number that had been left with no relatives nor directives for their care and disposition. Adding kids to the current undersized facility would still result in overcrowding – but these kids were special indeed. They had been left behind by shinobi parents, who were more likely than most to have savings and property let behind unattended as well. It seemed abundantly clear to Mizuki that he had decoded the village's hidden agenda. This followed his theories flawlessly.

"Hey, kid, better dry it up in case somebody comes along and sees you." Mizuki folded down onto his knees, putting a hand on the shaking shoulder. Iruka gaped, startled. "Just kidding, man, don't have a heart attack. You're so easy. Like anyone's going to see you here. What's up?"

"You were right. They're taking everything. They set me up. They sent me for a re-check at the infirmary and while I was there they pinned me down and told me I had to move. They even went in my house and took my clothes to the orphan's ward right then while I was gone. They're keeping everything else. Everything. I barely got back in and made it away with these things while they were sealing the house." His red-rimmed eyes, full of humiliation and bitterness, cast up at the larger boy.

Mizuki peered into the pillowcase. Some framed photos were on top. He nodded. "You want me to put these someplace for you?"

Iruka nodded, fresh tears spilling in spite of his effort to hold them back. He looked down, embarrassed to be so weak and exposed. "I don't have anywhere to keep anything. I hear that anything you take with you to the orphanage just makes you a target for the older guys. No one keeps anything there but their clothes and their kunai."

"Man, don't let 'em see you blubbering like that. They'll take you out back and make you their bitch," grinned Mizuki. He rubbed Iruka's shoulder as it stiffened in alarm from his words, relishing the contact.

"I'm trying not to."

"Thought you were going to be a big, bad shinobi. I think being able to stop crying is pretty much a prerequisite for that." His hand was sliding up and down Iruka's back, exploring the youthful body, taking in the way it was taut without being very muscular yet. Firm yet soft. He reached around and squeezed the smaller waist, pulling them together side-by-side. Iruka was so distraught he leaned into the uninvited attentions, taking comfort that Mizuki was still willing to sit here with him while he was in such a disgraceful state.

Iruka had covered his face, his tears, and his shame with both hands, trying fruitlessly to get a grip on himself before his self-pity chased his new and desperately needed friend away. The large hands that took his and pulled them down were firm and moved without regard to his half-hearted resistance. Mizuki took his chin and pulled gently, then harder. He didn't want to look up yet, he wasn't presentable this way.

"Face me." Another pull and Iruka submitted to his will, owing him for not leaving.

His eyes were closed, but the rest of that face was wide open, a mask of pain and tragedy. A thrill ran through the older boy's chest, the excitement filled him until he thought he might burst. They'd done an excellent job, Iruka was stripped of everything and torn wide open, his worldly ties and possessions lost, taking with them his self-esteem and self-confidence. He was practically fetal at this point. He was beautiful and unresisting and momentarily shattered to the point of total submissiveness. He was perfect beyond Mizuki's wildest dreams.

Touching him made his hands hungry for more. He used his hands to wipe away tears, feeling the slightly raw path they'd made on the tender young face.

"Don't be so rude. Open your eyes."

Iruka's wet lashes fluttered open reluctantly, and the glistening brown eyes projected with crystal clarity every pain the younger boy felt. Mizuki's heart seemed to stop beating. He was seeing everything, looking straight into unprotected soul. Nothing stood between them, and it was a high far beyond soldier pills, executions, orgasm, or drunkenness, thrilling to the point of near madness. The older boy locked in to the moment, hands tightening their grip on that trembling chin. The urge rose up to do something to make this permanent, something irrevocable. If he could kill them both right now, together, without moving he would; this was a moment he could exist in for eternity.

This was his other half, a part of him running free instead of being tucked inside where it belonged. How it had escaped in the first place, he had no idea. That didn't matter now. He'd found it, and he wasn't going to let it get away again. It belonged to him on a cosmic level and now it was going to belong to him on a physical plane. If this half died it might rejoin him in spirit but of that there was no guarantee. When it began to move his mind reignited. With the goal set, there was naught to do but act accordingly.

"P-please, I know you're trying to help, but let me go."

That would never happen. He let his hands relax, trying to fondle the red fingerprints marking the beckoning flesh.

But Iruka turned away quickly as soon as that painful grip released. His tears had stopped, a touch of self-preservation distracting him from his sorrow.

Mizuki gave him a sly smile. "Sorry if that was rough, but it did help you to get control of yourself. Better now?" He held his breath when the eyes met his again. He was swimming in them, absorbing their messages. Iruka admired him. Felt gratitude towards him. Was already beginning to need him. Was slightly afraid of losing him already. The sly smile widened into a grin.

"Yeah, thanks." Iruka's voice was rough and unsteady, still tight with the effort of restraining himself. The urge to cry would pass now if he held on long enough and hard enough. He was getting better at it. He hiccupped unexpectedly, and it made his empty stomach growl and ache even more.

"You haven't been eating bait again, have you?" Mizuki laughed.

Iruka bit the inside of his lip. I must be doing a good job of hiding my feelings, he thought. Mizuki was treating him like he was perfectly fine now. It eased his embarrassment and the pressure of trying to get a grip on his emotions.

"No."

"If you wait here I'll go get you some food from home. You'll have to stay here; my old man is there, I don't want him asking if I beat you up or something."

"You…you don't have to!"

Iruka's reaction made Mizuki beam proudly. He was obviously devastated to hear Mizuki was leaving him alone, even for a little while. Looking closely, he could even see the battle against the tears begin to renew. All because they would be apart for just a few minutes! The smaller hand was clutching the pillowcase like a security blanket.

It was just too tempting to take that last shred of security as his hostage.

"Give me that and I'll stow it for you at home for now. That way it'll be safe."

Iruka nodded automatically; it was what he had come here to ask for, after all. But his hands began to shake perceptibly and he was embarrassed again. His instincts warned him sharply against letting this relative stranger take the last of his earthly possessions.

But what other choice was there? Mizuki had already taken his silence for agreement; he could see the blue-gray eyes watching his expression as the cloth bag was taken from his side. He sat as stoically as he could, biting the inside of his lip again and sucking on the blood. Be calm, he told himself, and nodded again at the older boy's questioning look. He resisted the urge to flinch when the platinum blond gave his shoulder a rough, reassuring squeeze.

The mixed feelings at hearing the disappearing footsteps were the final straw, exhausting the last of his ability to cope and think. Iruka went up the nearest pine tree and hid in the tallest section that still had sufficient foliage to support and conceal him. His head was beginning to ache, like it always did after he had a hard cry, and the intensity was aggravated by his recent concussion. Securing himself with a 'nap strap', he made the handsigns sadly, reminded as always of the pride on his mother's face when he'd mastered this chunin-level concealment jutsu when he was only nine.

It took chakra to establish and maintain, and it almost took more energy than he had left. He let consciousness go, cruel master that it was, and sank into oblivion.

o0o0o0o0o0o

Mizuki returned to find Iruka gone from his place by the water. He calmly went to the spot and concentrated his chakra to pick up the trail. There was no sense of urgency or uncertainty. Iruka was a person with nowhere to hide.

He followed the traces, secure in the fact that a pre-genin wouldn't have the capability of covering his chakra traces even if he'd thought of it. It wasn't a slight on Iruka's abilities, however. Iruka left a clear chakra trail. To have that much after such a long period of stress and poor maintenance was pretty good for a kid his age.

He hiked the small pack over his shoulder to tromp up the side of the tree. Now he was beginning to frown, black thoughts clouding his former euphoria. Was Iruka hiding from him? Did he think that was going to be allowed?

He lost the traces near the treetop. Sending out a sweeping search, it didn't reappear in his perceptual range. Short of flying, Iruka couldn't have gone anywhere else. He examined the tree for jutsu, false branches or light bending. The bare edge of the concealment finally came into view, and only because he was right on top of it.

"Kai!" he barked, glaring as the image reassembled into reality. His hand was right by the silent head. A rough shake got no reaction. He unhooked the strap securing the limp figure to the tree and hauled him by the neck of his vest into the air, considering the possibilities.

He allowed Iruka the benefit of the doubt. He likely came up here because he was too tired and needed to sleep. It was merely a wise, cautious practice to secure and protect himself before catching some z's.

As he worked them both back down to the ground, Mizuki's mind began to play with the situation. Pausing on the last tier of thick cover, he pulled the unconscious face to his and stuck his tongue in the open mouth, looking around covertly as he invaded to make sure he couldn't be seen.

It was riveting. The taste, the total control, the stealth. Even the face he was plunging his tongue into had no way of knowing what he was doing. The erotic impulses electrified his entire body, his feet were so hot in his boots it was almost unbearable. This was as controlled and private as masturbation but as pornographic as a brothel full of willing ass. All pleasure. No responsibility or self-respect required. It was already more exciting than he had imagined, and this was just from using the boy from the neck up.

He almost couldn't stop himself in time. Iruka was waking up. The beads of sweat forming on his forehead threatened to drip into the open mouth he had just vacated.

He gave the pallid face a slap to cover up his awkwardness.

"Hey, wake up! Wake up, you're having a nightmare!" It was hard to suppress the giddy feeling; he was still stimulated and it was playing hell with his ability to act like nothing had changed.

Iruka's hand went to his eyes, rubbing clumsily. He blinked up blearily as Mizuki touched the handprint from the slap.

"Are you all right, Iruka?" he asked.

When Iruka opened his mouth slightly in a hitching, half-suppressed yawn, Mizuki had to turn away.

"How did I get here, Mizuki-san?" Iruka groaned. His hands rubbed fiercely.

"I don't know, I found you here. You were having a nightmare, maybe you were sleepwalking?" He dropped to the forest floor and gently set Iruka down.

"I'm sorry, I never had that happen before. I was up high resting."

"Don't strain your brain. Here, check this out." He slipped the pack off his shoulder and handed it to the slumped boy. It took a few beats before the tanned hands moved to take the pack. Mizuki dropped down to his knees and took it back impatiently, dumping out the contents.

"Come on, eat something, you're a mess." Mizuki picked up a bag of trail mix and ripped it open, shoving it into Iruka's hands. "I got you stuff that wouldn't go bad. Granola, nuts, crackers…the old man buys this shit in bulk and gets it delivered. He hates grocery shopping. There's so much of it nobody's gonna notice if I share it with you."

Iruka took some and began to eat, chewing dazedly. He was barely getting anything down. Mizuki watched, phasing out of the moment, his mind focusing as intently as his eyes on the motions of those lips chewing and opening to take in more food. The idea formed that if he chewed the food himself and passed it into Iruka's mouth, he could get more in him. He would chew big mouthfuls of food, and seal his lips over Irukas, and press the food out with his tongue in several movements. His hands would be on that lithe throat, feeling for the swallow to better time the thrusts of masticated nourishment. That position would make the smaller boy completely vulnerable, and the activity would hide the pleasure so that he could enjoy it without the other ever knowing. It would be inevitable that he would be moving in some way, touching, tasting each other as well…

"What…is there something on my face?" Iruka asked, wiping at his mouth with this hand.

It broke the daydream, jarring the older boy back into reality.

It was insane to be here in the middle of nowhere with no witnesses and still have to control his behavior. Well, not no witnesses. Isn't a victim a witness?

Technically, yes…but only if he survives.

He smiled and shook his head in the negative, reassuring Iruka that there was nothing on his face that didn't belong there.