Part Two

The next step in their infiltration was to breech the community. The village wasn't large, though due to its connection with the daimyo, it was fairly cosmopolitan for a coastal backwater. Most trades were represented, and there was a local tavern that Kakashi noted immediately; alcohol always made information gathering easier.

It was there at the tavern that they met the locals for the first time. The rustic group of fishermen greeted them, at first, with reserve. One asked, "You the new lot down by the old dock?" He shook his head, which was shaggy with stubble. "Crappy place to settle, if you ask me."

"It's…drafty," Iruka admitted, and Kakashi had to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

However, the deliberate understatement had drawn knowing grins from the small gathering. One of the men even clapped his hand on Iruka's shoulder, saying, "You don't have to lie, boy. Most of us have been in and out of that place in bad weather. Nobody could believe that anyone would be crazy enough to actually settle there."

Then everyone laughed, and the tension of new company began to ease.

"So who are you both?

"Umino Iruka," Iruka said without hesitation, and it was just a little shocking to hear him use his real name.

'But he's not in the Bingo Book,' the elite shinobi reminded himself. 'He's not listed anywhere, and Umino is hardly a name that will sound out of place on the coast.'

So he went with it. "Umino Kakashi," he introduced himself, and felt a flicker of amusement when his partner's shoulders twitched at the moniker.

"Don't know any Umino's." The crowd rumbled agreement, but it wasn't the sound of doubt, just idle speculation. One of the men asked, "You kin by yer daddy or yer mama?"

"Our father," Kakashi said automatically, jumping on the unsolicited opportunity to fill in their back-story.

After that there was a long stream of boring talk about where the good fishing was, the staples they would need and where to find them, as well as a dozen or so introductions. Only one thing stood out about the meeting at all:

"Stay out of Lord Ohidai's way," the village herbalist told them even as she tucked a packet of ginger root into Iruka's hand, casting a knowing look at his ruddy nose. "He can be a harsh man about certain things. You just keep to where you belong, alright?"

Iruka and Kakashi traded looks. "Yes ma'am."

Kakashi scowled down at the fish, which, it must be said, hardly wore a winning expression itself. It was cold and had some sort of secretion sticking to it that made the creature difficult to hold. In fact, it had already slipped in his grip once, and the pad of his finger was streaked with blood from were a fin had dug in.

He looked into the flat, accusing eye and decided it was the most nefarious enemy he had ever engaged. His only satisfaction was that he had drawn first blood and now fully intended to eviscerate its body and eat its flesh.

"Quit staring at the poor thing like it's going to launch a final attack." Iruka looked up critically from where he was packing small fish in salt for their trip to the market. "Just get on with it or we'll never have dinner."

Kakashi looked dubiously between the fish and the long, thin knife he held, the weight of which was unfamiliar and oddly distributed. He placed the tip on the thing's slimy belly and wondered how deep he should plunge it.

He was just about to commit himself when a hand intercepted him with a sigh, drawing the blade free in the same movement. "Perhaps you better let me," Iruka offered. He gave Kakashi's bleeding thumb a disapproving look. "You can pack the fish, but I'd wrap that before you stick your hand in the salt."

Wise advice. Kakashi wiped off his hands, taking care to completely cover the surprisingly deep cut.

"You might have summoned me some company with that," Guruko complained dourly.

"You'd have plenty of company if you took care of those rats."

"Do I look like I have pointed ears to you?"

"Just for that, no dinner for you."

"What!"

"Useless beasts who don't pull their weight are not fed," Kakashi scolded.

Unfazed, said useless beast went over to Iruka and cuddled shamelessly into his side. "Iruka will feed me," he said of the man, who paused in his work long enough to give Guruko a fond scratch. "Won't you, Iruka?"

The chuunin smiled, "I'd hate to contradict your master."

"Ha!"

Iruka frowned at his captain's triumphant laugh. "But it's not as if you've been much help either, Kakashi. And we don't let you go hungry."

"He won't go hungry. We have a hovel full of stinking rats." He glared rather sullenly at the smelly wares he was putting away for sale. "Besides, I'm carrying my weight in ways other than just keeping up appearances."

Guruko sniffed, obviously unimpressed. "At least Iruka is keeping us from starving to death."

"He does do that," Kakashi admitted, and, seeing an opening, he commented, "Actually, it's rather like having a wife."

Instead of an angry retort, dark brown eyes merely slitted. "What?" their owner asked, deceptively causal, as though he couldn't imagine Kakashi being impolite and was only inquiring because he was sure he had misheard. Guruko was looking tensely between the two humans, much like one would look between a lightning rod and a storm cloud.

Measuring the vicious, dangerous look that he was receiving, Kakashi decided that discretion was the better part of valor. He did, after all, actually want to eat. So he amended, "On second thought, our situation bears no resemblance whatsoever to traditional domestic roles."

"I thought not." Iruka accompanied his words with a rather vicious plunge of his knife, followed by a graceful twist that neatly gutted the fish. Kakashi watched, admiring the firm, precise twist of his wrist. He tried to imagine it with a kunai and wished that their current assignment didn't make it too risky to put the junior shinobi through his paces. It might have been interesting to see what he was truly capable of.

"Where did you learn to do that, anyway?"

Kakashi himself was proficient in fishing as a survival skill, by which it was meant that he could snatch fish out of a stream with his hand or a bit of chakra wire. (Which he had made very clever use of today, if he did say so himself). However, he preferred ration bars in the field, and so it wasn't a skill he regularly used. Nor did 'catching-the-fish-bare-handed no jutsu' seem to have much application on the ocean.

In comparison, Iruka seemed much more at home, even if the villagers did still make fun of them about their small catch. Kakashi had tried to play it off like they were selling elsewhere, but Iruka had come right out with the truth and everyone had decided that they were the most incompetent fishermen ever.

"It will make us more likable, Kakashi," Iruka had remarked when the older shinobi grumbled darkly about everyone's apparent amusement. "Didn't you notice how easy they were with us today?"

"They laughed at us."

"They're relieved we're not much competition, and since they don't feel threatened, they're prepared to feel sorry for us and be generous."

"You just like being dotted on," Kakashi accused. "I saw the way that girl had her hand on your arm." It would have been hard to miss, as dark as Iruka's face had gone. That, too, had made the local men laugh.

"I was cultivating my persona as an inexperienced youth, caught in the shadow of his older brother's charm and good looks. At least, that was the plan before you refused to be charming."

There was a certain amount of back story it was prudent to have planned in these kinds of situations – everything from name and age to place of birth. The best infiltrators thought their characters through down to the ticks and hang-ups, but Iruka was making it sound more like a story book.

Which was why Kakashi gave Iruka a wry look and said, "Well, pardon me for raining on your fantasy."

"Don't worry about it," Iruka quipped, waving his hand. "I've decided that you have a dark and brooding past that you cope with by being emotionally unavailable and excessively unsociable. I thought it best to stick with your strengths."

In spite of being borderline annoyed, Kakashi was also intrigued. "And you?"

"Why, I'm caught up in a semi-codependent relationship with my traumatized but misanthropic sibling. It's tragic, but don't worry. I love you too much to abandon you. It would help if you were a little more committed, though. You could shove me a little, or snap a bit. But not too much. We want you to be depressing, not unlikable."

"You're serious."

Iruka crossed his eyes. "Absolutely."

"What good will this do?"

"Well, to begin with," Iruka said. "You'll have every unmarried woman in the village drooling behind your back. One scowl and they'll tell you anything. And the best part is that it won't stretch your acting skills. You just have to be disagreeable."

Kakashi felt like scowling now. It didn't sound much different than the situation back in Konoha, and he had never liked simpering females. "I see. And what about my poor beset upon brother?"

"I'll scoop up the rest, of course. The kids and the mommies. I'll also get to trail the younger men, since I'm not a threat to their masculinity or their field of play." He was obviously referring to both the women and the fish. "Together we'll be the most well liked dolts in town."

There was a sense of the surreal surrounding Iruka as he disassembled the minds and motivations of the village people. His tone was light, even facetious, but Kakashi could find nothing faulty in his reasoning. The cover story was sound.

"Okay," he agreed.

Iruka cocked an eyebrow, apparently not expecting such a matter-of-fact response. "Just 'okay'?"

Kakashi was ready to engage in some mockery of his own. "I don't mind playing the ruggedly handsome senior bullying his weak-hearted tag-along. I almost feel practiced."

"Hm. Is that so? Well, I hate to tell you this, but you're not 'ruggedly handsome.' If you didn't bathe for a while, you might be able to pull off an elegant sort of swarthy. But really, you're more…well, fair."

Fair? What the hell did that mean?

"I suppose I could do worse," Kakashi decided, his tone very pointed.

As expected, Iruka took the bait. Annoyed already, he clipped out, "Oh?"

"I could be comely."

"WHAT?"

Kakashi fell back into the present to watch Iruka finish deboning their supper. "I often went fishing with my father as a boy," Iruka answered the question Kakashi had asked about his experience. "In theory, preparing these aren't so different."

"You say, 'in theory' because…"

"I haven't seen the ocean since I was four-years-old. I'm making this stuff up as I go. It's a good thing you're a genius; that trick with the chakra wire…" Iruka shook his head admiringly.

"I still prefer my night job."

"You hitting the tavern again tonight?"

"Maybe. What about you?"

"I'm teaching, actually," the younger man admitted, a touch bashfully. "Some of the adults are illiterate. They saw me playing a word game with the children and asked if I would help. And since at least two of them work in the manor…"

Kakashi nodded. It was a good opportunity. Still, he warned, "Watch yourself."

"Hai, Taicho."

"You drool," Kakashi said one night.

Iruka did not even turn over, instead burying his face more firmly in the pillow they shared. "You live with a pack of dogs," he muttered. "I know you're used to it."

One evening, Kakashi came home to Iruka mending clothes. His jacket had been torn, and without immediate care, it was likely to fall apart.

"I'm just not sure this is salvageable," Iruka muttered, turning over the harshly used material. It was one of their oiled ones, which were easily the most valuable items they owned. Without them, the damp went right through to the skin.

Kakashi grunted to show he heard. He was actually in a decent mood; it had been another tavern night for him, and though he had been as careful as always, the alcohol left him feeling warm for once. He could almost ignore the rattle of the wind.

"Maybe a lead today. The other men are complaining Ohidai is tightening up restrictions on the most distant fishing lanes. Apparently, one of the boats went out too far yesterday and a patrol towed them all the way back to dock and confiscated their catch. Said next time someone was caught over the line, there'd be a public flogging."

Iruka's brow furrowed as he considered the information. The material he was tending was still bunched in his hands. "That's a very defensive escalation. I've never heard anything about patrol boats before."

"Yeah," the jounin agreed, his gaze straying to the bolted shutters, through which he could see peeks of the rolling sea. "They talked as though they've never known him to be so unyielding about it. There's something going on out there he doesn't want anyone to see." He went over to the stove to examine what had been left for him. There were a few dried strips of – surprise, surprise – fish. "How was your day?"

The younger man hummed, having taken up his task again. "I might be able to get into the manor next week if we can get our hands on some crab. They're not in season here, but apparently Ohidai loves them."

Kakashi looked over at his hound, who was curled up lazily in front of the stove, his head resting on Iruka's foot. "You up for a bit of fetch?"

Guroko growled sleepily. "That had better be a metaphor."

There was a simmering sound coming from a kettle and Kakashi lifted it carefully. "This done?"

Iruka spared a glance at the thick steam. "Should be. Toss another piece of wood on the stove?"

Kakashi did so without comment, pouring boiling water over a bed of coffee. He offered a mug to Iruka who took the hot tin with gratitude. They spent the rest of the evening in the companionable quiet of a warm stove and intermittent conversation.

"Get your hand off that persimmon. I just sliced it."

"What?"

"Kakashi –"

"Hm?"

"Kakashi, so help me, I said –"

"Mmnom."

"KAKASHI."

"Your people are kind of violent, aren't they?" The visiting cur had raised his head, ear cocked toward the shack where a very distinct crashing sound could be heard, followed by more furious scolding.

Guruko did not bother to open his eyes, too busy lolling in a rare interval of sunshine. "This is actually pretty mild for them. But I guess you can't choose your family, can you?" He smirked as he said it, one incisor sticking out.

The irony went completely over the other canine's head. "Ah, littermates, are they? I'd never have guessed from looking. Though –" He paused, wincing as there was a particularly loud crunch of something breaking. "Now that you mention it, it seems obvious."

It was strange slicing through something without a kunai. Kakashi held onto the slippery tubers carefully, peeling off the excess skin. Beside him, Iruka was dressing an impressively large catch of the day, humming to himself absently and utterly off tune.

At his feet, Guruko lolled heavily against his leg, tongue flopped out as he looked up adoringly into Iruka's face. "Ruuuka," he made a pitiful sound, pawing at the man's thigh. The chuunin smiled and flipped him a bit of fish.

"You're spoiling him," Kakashi grumbled.

"You're just jealous because he loves me more," Iruka retorted.

The village herbalist was a friendly sort. She had developed a soft spot for Iruka and frequently stopped him whenever he drifted through the market to foist some more of her cold remedy on him. As he'd been plagued with a dripping nose since they'd arrived, he was usually grateful. The woman also often had some useful tidbit of information he could take back to his captain.

Today it was about the forbidden fishing routes again. "Ain't right," she said, shaking her head slowly. "Those lines aren't nearly far enough out for him to kick up such a fuss. My man's brought back only half as big a haul lately."

Another lady, a young mother with a baby on her hip, patted Iruka's arm. "Are you and that handsome brother of yours having a hard time too?"

Iruka flashed a self-depreciating grimace. "You mean more than usual? Sometimes it's a wonder we eat, much less bring anything in." And, seeing that he had their sympathy, he dropped his voice an octave and shared quietly, "It's not what we expected when we came here. Kakashi and I aren't much good at shallow-water fishing."

The mother rocked as her infant fussed, giving him a knowing look, but she sounded troubled when she said, "I hope you two won't think about leaving right in the middle of winter. I know that house of yours isn't in good condition, but come spring we'll all help you get it back in shape."

Her honest sentiment touched Iruka, who felt a twinge of conscious, and he wished he didn't have to use a ruse with such good-hearted people. At the very least, he was glad that all indications pointed to the local people having nothing to do with their daimyo's scheming.

So he grinned at the women and told them that the two brothers had no plans to leave at the moment, and then headed out of town, stopping only to purchase a rare treat. However, as he was turning to be on his way, he almost ran straight into a little boy.

"Whoa!" Iruka said, chuckling as he lost his balance and just barely sidestepped the child. "I need to watch were I'm going, eh? I keep running into people recently."

The child blinked at him, tongue poking out. Iruka caught his eyes on the powdered white mochi balls in his hand and immediately offered one. The youngster snatched it up, shyness evaporating, and flashed Iruka a partially toothless smile.

For some reason, his face stayed with Iruka for a long time afterwards.

"What's wrong with you?" Kakashi asked later that night as they lay in bed. He was curled on his side, Guruko under his chin like a furry hot water bottle. Iruka lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling and shivering. He wasn't sure he could describe his feeling of melancholy or explain why a child had caused it.

"Did you ever wonder if you were meant to be doing something else?" he finally asked.

There was a long, pregnant moment of silence, and then the mattress dipped with a creak, rolling Iruka nearer his companions. His fingers sunk into warm fur. "Go to sleep," Kakashi said. "You're waking up the damn bed bugs."

Obediently, he buried his face in Guruko's back. The other man shifted, causing their hands to slide together as they settled, and Iruka closed his eyes on the feeling of discontent. After all, it was hard to feel lonely when others were so very close.