Chapter Fifteen: Make Love not Jinchuriki

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
- J. K. Rowling

Two hours into their first session a few months back, Jiraiya silently cursed himself for ever agreeing to mentor the tattooed and sharingan-eyed Umino Iruka, and swore that he would never make the same mistake again.

He did not enjoy teaching even at the best of times: his patience was minimal, his demands high, and his willingness to repeat himself limited. Aware that his manner all too often intimidated and annoyed new students into babbling incompetence, if not outright terror, or put them off because they considered him to be nothing but a outlandish pervert. And yet he had hoped-had deluded himself, rather-that teaching this very odd tattooed person, this Iruka. That he would somehow be different, that their unique and intimate bond (the whole future thing) would have inspired in him more patience or tolerance.

Neither seemed to be the case.

He was just as annoying as anyone else he had trained. More, if not so! He whined like a girl!

Okay, the man didn't truly whine like a girl, but he told him that he did just to shut him up and piss him off. But he did do the cleaning, cooking and his laundry and now looking back on it he really enjoyed the younger man's presence. He was very intelligent, warm, humorous and fun to be around.

But there was something shifty about the man. Jiraiya wasn't an idiot –he'd seen his little warded and sealed trunk that he kept hidden in his closet. He hadn't snooped. He figured everyone deserved their privacy. However, he was curious. The man's 'personal missions' were starting to take longer and become more frequent. The author wasn't a terribly suspicious man by nature but he was starting to question that his student might be up to something nefarious.

He had spent the last night at a whorehouse enjoying the entertainments and various delights that they offered and walked into his place, curious to see what sort of fight, if any Iruka and Kakashi had gotten into.

Iruka was sitting on the couch while Kokoro painted his toenails. The little girl smiled and waved at Jiraiya happily.

"Moshi moshi!" Kokoro said in her childish voice.

"Hey kiddo." Jiraiya waggled his fingers at her.

He inclined his head at Iruka. "Where's Kakashi?"

Iruka snorted. "He left around dawn. I believe he said something about meeting up with his team. He didn't deign share the details with me."

Kokoro shot the Sannin an anxious look.

Jiraiya sighed heavily and sat down. "I thought I told you to make nice, Iruka?"

"We fucked." Iruka said blowing on his fingernails setting the nail polish. "That's something, right?"

"Iruka!" The older man shouted, his eyes bugged out a little. "What!"

"I told him everything, too." Iruka shrugged nonchalantly. "Didn't seem to matter or mean too much to him, though. I can't suppose it would though. It wasn't his fucking life. He isn't the one who died. Fucking cold-hearted bastard."

Jiraiya just stared at him. A vein throbbed in his forehead.

"What in the name of Kami-sama did you expect him to do, Iruka?" He shouted and pointed his finger at the tattooed man.

"What do you mean?" Iruka frowned.

"It's not like he can do anything about the past. He can't take away those memories. You will always have that memory; always have those…feelings of abandonment and hostility about it. There is no answer – no magic solution. You were expecting the impossible." Jiraiya sighed – his anger evaporating. He rubbed his face tiredly. He had been up most of the night entertaining the ladies. Conducting important, vital research, of course.

Iruka turned away from his sensei, looking out the window, at the rushing waters of the river below. "That's where you're wrong, sensei. I don't want anything more from him."

"What!" Jiraiya shouted again, his anger back. "What? I thought you loved him?"

"I don't know what I feel, but I'm not sure if it's love anymore. The love I felt…it was…that Iruka's love. My other life's love. You know?" Iruka shot him a miserable look. "I not that person anymore…" He paused and took a deep breath. "Does that make sense…?"

Jiraiya thought about it and it did make a sort of sense. He nodded and looked at this strange different person sitting in front of him.

Iruka turned towards him, sharingan eyes swirling. "I did achieve my mangekyō sharingan, last night. That's something, right?"

"Iruka…are you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, I'm doing okay." Iruka said lightly. "But would you like to train, sensei? I'm eager to try out the Space–Time Ninjutsu now that I have obtained mangekyō."

Jiraiya looked at the young man and realized he could probably use something to get his mind off things.

"And then I'm going to be gone for a while on some personal missions. I need…some time, I think."

The author nodded and sighed. He couldn't really understand what the younger man was going through exactly, but he wasn't unfamiliar to the emotion of heartache.

"Sure thing, Iruka. We can also go to the whorehouse and find a couple of willing women and…err…men for you, I suppose. That always helped me through hard times." Jiraiya scratched his chest absently.

Iruka looked up at him and smiled crookedly. "That's very sweet in a perverted way, old man. But I've never had any problem getting laid without having to pay for it!"

Jiraiya stared at the younger man for a second before he realized that he was being insulted. "Hey!" He barked angrily, "I don't have to pay for it, I just don't like the hassle of having to deal with women and emotions and all that shit!"

Iruka laughed merrily. "Haven't you ever heard of a fuck buddy, Jiraiya-sensei?"

The older man glared at his student. "Of course…just never found a woman amendable to the concept really. Whores are easy." Jiraiya glanced sideways at the younger man. "Do you have a fuck buddy, Iruka?"

Kokoro giggled and the Sannin looked at her.

"He doesn't but there is someone who wants to be!" Kokoro laughed merrily in her childish voice.

Iruka blushed and stood up, fanning his fingernails in the air. "Oh, hush, you."

"Oh?" Jiraiya waggled his bushy white eyebrows at the girl.

"He's an uncouth, loudmouthed fool but apparently has all the working parts." Kokoro commented.

Iruka snickered as he wandered into the kitchen. "Just because he wants to be doesn't mean he's going to get an invitation, Kokoro dear."

"You should've killed the simpleton, Otousan." Kokoro pouted.

"Tsk, tsk." Iruka chided as he pulled out some cold sushi out of the refrigerator to snack on. "Look underneath the underneath. He is more than the sum of his parts."

"It's his parts that I'm afraid you're looking at." She said pointedly.

Iruka laughed. "I'm not!"

"Who are you talking about?" Jiraiya interrupted, standing in the middle, hands on his hips.

The tattooed man popped a sushi in his mouth and shrugged. "A comrade I ran into the other day. You've never met him."

"What about Weasel?" The author asked, a frown lacing his features.

A piece of sushi halfway to his lips paused. "Oh, Kami, not you, too? Ryuu has you calling poor 'Tachi 'Weasel'…?" Iruka shook his head.

Jiraiya smiled. Ryuu and he did get along quite famously. The dragon had been excellent assistance during production of Icha Icha Jolly Roger Vol. 1. Frankly, the dragon had practically co-wrote it with him late one night while drinking quite heavily. Damn sake.

"Yes, so what about Itachi?" He heard himself prompt. Fuck, he was sounding like a girl. The white-haired author gave a soured look at the younger man who was eating sushi in the kitchen.

Iruka's cheeks bloomed with color. "I…well." He paused. "Who knows what he'll think about me when I'm finally able to return to Konoha." The tattooed man set his food down and looked forlorn. "I'm a very different person from the man who left. He…very well might…" Iruka swallowed hard. "Look down on some of the choices I've made…or decisions I made."

Jiraiya felt instantly guilty for forcing this confession out of the man. He looked so…utterly hopeless standing over there. So alone! Did he not realize how many people he had wanting to stand by his side and help him? Sand beside him and see him succeed? No, he probably didn't. Apparently the conversation with Kakashi last night had only fueled his insecurities. Damn that boy! He scratched his chest and looked down at Kokoro; she looked up at him smiled sadly in her manner. They were both thinking the same thing, it seemed.

"Well, Iruka-kun, I think you've made a lot of good choices." Jiraiya said carefully. "That's just my personal opinion, though. Not sure how much it counts, though. You should give him a chance to make his own choice. But, I'm just an old man who most people have forgotten about." He shrugged and looked out the window at the river. "So, didn't you want to do some training? I'm sick of jawing about our feelings like a bunch of women!"

A few hours later, Iruka and Jiraiya were weaving back and forth on a long stretch of pasture land that was dotted with rolling bales of hay. He had flagged the hay with kunai and panties. Iruka had quirked an eyebrow at why he had various women's undergarments in his pockets but he had just told him it was for 'research'. That was all the young man needed to know.

Iruka stood at one end of the pasture and his sensei way at the other far end. They shouted at each other over the grassland.

"Okay, Iruka, try and perform the jutsu from the red pair of panties, to the pink pair, to the blue pair to the white frilly pair." Jiraiya suggested. So far Iruka's attempts had ended with him tripping on the ground and crumpling in abject failure.

"Of course…only you would use panties as a teaching tool, old man!" Iruka shook his head.

"Hey, Dolphin, you came to me, remember…?" The white-haired author yelled.

Iruka snorted loudly. "Don't call me that."

Jiraiya did a little dance on the other end of the pasture. "Come over here and make me, Dolphin-chan!"

Iruka's sharingan whirled, he held his hand out and preformed the necessary hand seals in rapid succession, and then he was just suddenly gone.

Jiraiya blinked his eyes a few times and glanced around and looked at the hay bales in front of him and realized that all of the panties were missing.

Then Iruka collapsed in front of him and puked on his sandals.

"Gross, kid!" He backed away and groaned, kicking some of the puke off his shoes. "Those were my favorite pair!"

Iruka sat up and grinned. "I did it, though!" Then he took off his shirt and handed it to his older sensei to wipe his feet off. "And don't call me Dolphin."

Jiraiya stuck his tongue out but took the proffered shirt and sat on the ground and began cleaning his feet. Disgusting. "Summon Ryuu and Kokoro. You should try with moving targets, Iruka." He suggested. "And don't puke on me again." He made a sour face then tossed the ruined shirt and his ruined sandals far away from him.

The younger man summed did as suggested and soon they were both standing in the clearing alongside him.

"Hey, Dolphin!" Ryuu said, a few puffs of smoke emitting from his nostrils. "What's with the panties? Are you a cross-dressing ninja now?"

"Moshi moshi!" Kokoro waved at them cheerfully, her blue pigtails bouncing merrily.

Iruka groaned and shook his fist at Ryuu angrily. Jiraiya smiled.

The older man handed a few pairs of multi-colored panties to both Ryuu and Kokoro and they both started flying around in the air above Iruka.

Iruka activated his sharingan and his tattoos began shimmering to life, the winds in the pasture swirled and he began climbing through the air on chakra and he blinked; gone. After hours of practice like this Iruka was able to go higher and higher into the air, as well as longer distances through the pasture without having to puke or feel ill effect. He was able to use the Space–Time Ninjutsu jutsu to travel all the way back to their apartment in Tanigakure and bring him clean sandals. And himself a clean shirt. With practice there was no telling how far the man could transport himself. Jiraiya was certainly curious to see how far he could go with it. He had enough chakra reserves to go…very far indeed.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

This Harbinger person had been busy. Itachi walked along the darkened streets of Konoha silently, his mind in turmoil. He didn't know what to think about this mysterious figure. Harbinger was becoming a bit of a folk hero amongst the common rabble, and in the towns, the rumors were growing by leaps and bounds. These banners and flyers were not helping things; perhaps that was Harbinger wanted? He had found them plastered all over the village – they had placed them with a simple binding jutsu to various walls in easily seen locations around Konoha. He hadn't taken them all down; that was someone else's job. Just one of each. To put in his report.

Itachi looked down at his hands. The paper was a poor quality; the ink bled in places. The drawings were clumsy but skillfully drawn, primary colors wisely chosen. They were bold line drawings clearly showing what they were intending to do; it was obvious what they were – they were propaganda. He just didn't know for what purpose. Why would this Harbinger need propaganda? He looked them over one last time and committed them to memory with his sharingan as he neared the Hokage's office.

MAKE LOVE NOT JINCHURIKI

FREE THE JINCHURIKI! FREE YOUR MIND!

ALL I WANT IS TO CHANGE THE WORLD.

FREEDOM. PEACE. LOVE. HAPPINESS.

LOVE YOUR FRIENDLY, LOCAL NEIGHBORHOOD JINCHURIKI!

GIVE PEACE A CHANCE!

I AM THE VOICE OF THE VOICELESS.

HARBINGER IS WATCHING!

They were rather clever, actually. Obviously, the man had a message. So 'Harbinger' wanted peace? Not that Itachi was opposed to that goal. Personally, he was a pacifist, despite his profession. Was the man aware that most of the shinobi nations had sent assassins to kill the man? Even Konoha had sent an ANBU team out. Itachi wondered idly if one of them would succeed. It was only percentages. You couldn't avoid every kunai, every poisoned senbon, every knife thrust.

As Itachi walked up to the Hokage's office, he spied both of the ANBU guards that watched in front of the office doors out cold in front of the door. He could hear muffled voices in the room, one of them the Third's so he knew the man was still alive. He dropped the papers, pulled a kunai out of his pocket and transported himself into the Hokage's office, ready to attack. When he lunged at the man dressed in black he felt himself being stopped and propelled backwards and flung against the wall.

"Oh, shit, it's you." A voice said with an easy laugh to it. "Of course it would be you! Everything else has gone wrong tonight. Why not this?"

"Hn." Itachi said with a frown.

He looked at the figure that stood in front of him. He was trying to take in the scene. Trying to place the voice. It sounded familiar but…he couldn't quite place it. The Hokage was watching them.

It was obviously Harbinger. He must have come to speak to the Hokage after planting his propaganda around Konoha. The figure was wearing a black haori over matching black silk hakama that hugged his muscular body with a black mask. It was the garb that was described in all the reports they had of the man. Itachi could also see bits and pieces of tattoos along his neck and on his arms. However, as he continued to study the man, it was when he saw a very specific wakizashi blade sitting on his hip that his breath caught in his throat.

"Iruka?" Itachi asked, hating how breathless he sounded. He frowned.

Harbinger sighed and pulled his mask off, then shook his head. Long, dark brown hair cascaded around the man's shoulders. It had grown a lot since he'd been gone. Irrationally Itachi wanted to know if it felt the same, smelled the same.

"Hello 'Tachi." Iruka tossed the hair behind his back as he smiled at him flirtatiously. "Miss me?"

Itachi stood up abruptly angry and brushed the dust of his hands. He ignored Iruka despite the fluttering in his belly. The man had left, had turned his back on Konoha, on him! For what? To become some sort of…hero of the people? What was the point of this? The man had probably never thought about him. Probably laughed about his silly little crush. He took a deep breath and refused to allow any of his emotions to show externally. He plucked a bit of lint off the jounin uniform he was wearing and tried to achieve an impression that he looked utterly bored.

"Iruka, what is the meaning of this?" The Hokage asked. "Please start at the beginning."

The tanned man sighed. "Oh, Sandaime, I hate starting at the beginning…it takes so long to get to the good parts! And I really wasn't planning on telling Itachi this stuff in this manner…" Iruka looked sideways at him. "Maybe I could tell him privately…later?" He looked hopefully at the Hokage.

"You are treading on my last nerve, Umino Iruka. Did you know that you are a wanted man by at least four of the five major shinobi nations? That you have assassins after you? Do you know how much you're worth in the bingo book? What game are you playing at? What is the point of all this, Iruka? Please explain this to me because I just don't see it." The Third dumped a pile of propaganda on his desk and tossed it in Iruka's direction. The papers skittered in a haphazard mess and Iruka stared at them for a moment.

The Hokage continued: "Harbinger? What exactly are you signaling the arrival of, Iruka? Please explain these riddles. It is late and I am old and these bones are weary." He sat down tiredly and dumped his hat on the desk and scratched his head. "And no, you may not tell Itachi later. Both of you sit down. I have a feeling this involves you both in some way."

Iruka nodded slowly. "Do you have some sake, Sarutobi-sama? This is a very long story and I will get thirsty."

"I'm sorry, Iruka, I only have tea." The Hokage shrugged.

"Damn. I really would like some sake…" Iruka frowned then perked up. "Hey, I'll be right back." He turned and looked at Itachi in the eye, and then winked. The nerve of that man! "Promise." Then he was just gone.

Itachi looked at the space where Iruka was just standing – it was empty! He turned around and looked around the room. He hadn't used transportation jutsu…!

"Where'd he go?" Itachi asked and looked over at the Hokage in shock who was chuckling! "Hokage-sama?"

"He figured it out…" Sandaime was saying almost to himself.

Then Iruka was back, blinking into existence, sitting in the chair, clutching a bottle of hot sake and three glasses. He smiled gleefully and set them on the Hokage's desk and lined them up in a row and poured some for everyone.

"What jutsu was that?" Itachi asked, squinting his eyes at him suspiciously.

Iruka picked up one the sake glasses and took a sip.

"My own, really. Didn't have anyone to teach me how to do it properly so had to adapt what I knew. Combination of Minato's Flying Thunder God Technique and Madara's Space–Time Migration. I'm still working on it. Trying to go longer distances. I've gotten much better. Jiraiya's been fantastic." Iruka said in a rush, smiling at the Hokage.

Itachi's eyes bugged out a little. He wasn't sure from which part. All of it, probably. He reached forward and took one of the sake cups and downed it all in a large gulp. It burned going down. Kami, it burned!

The Hokage reached over and took the last sake cup and accepted it. He sipped it slowly. "Good sake."

Iruka shrugged. "Should be. I just paid 85 Ryō for it at the Rusty Kunai."

"So…Jiraiya's been training you?" Sandaime asked with a small smile, hold the small sake cup in his hand.

"Yes. I couldn't think of anyone else to ask, really. I needed someone I could trust with my secrets. Someone who would never betray Konoha. Someone who loved Konoha as much as I do." Iruka said as he refilled both his sake glass and Itachi's.

Itachi turned his head sharply to stare at Iruka. He still loved the village? But why had he left? Maybe it was just him that he hadn't loved. He sipped the second cup of sake. It didn't burn so bad the second time down.

"And that's Jiraiya? He hasn't been to Konoha in a long time…" The Hokage said.

"That's bullshit and you know it, Sandaime." Iruka pointed a finger at the older man. "Jiraiya-sensei may be a perverted old windbag but he loves this village and would die to protect it. In fact, he does."

"What?" The Hokage shouted suddenly.

Iruka waved his hand dismissively. "Many, many years from now, in a future that may or may not even happen, Sarutobi-sama. You know how it goes."

The Hokage nodded knowingly, but Itachi couldn't believe his ears. He sat down his sake glass; maybe he hadn't heard correctly. He did not usually imbibe spirits.

"Did you say…a future that may or may not happen, Iruka?" Itachi said, unable to restrain the note of anger and bewilderment from entering his voice.

Iruka turned and looked at him and said in a calm voice, as if he was being utterly serious. "I'm from the future, 'Tachi."

He narrowed his eyes at the older man. "Hn. If that were true, why didn't you tell me before?" He looked around the room as if expecting Sauske to jump out and laugh at him. This had to be some sort of joke.

"The future is a funny thing, Itachi. We're different people there. We have different lives and just because we…lead a different path in that life doesn't mean it must define this life." Iruka was looking intently at Itachi. "Knowledge of the future can be a burdensome thing, a tiresome thing, like a yoke around my neck at times. But that life of mine was not in vain. If this knowledge is power, then I shall wield it like a fearsome tool, indeed."

Iruka turned back to the Hokage and finished his sake. "I was a simple chuunin, which was all I wanted to be. I lived, breathed and died for Konoha. Harbinger is signaling the coming war."

Itachi was floored – Iruka began coldly reciting facts like he was listing items off a checklist. He calmly explained that he had lived another life – some whole other life! As some other person who had lived, breathed and died! It was like so many things made sense and yet it also seemed so far-fetched. He didn't know what to believe. Itachi wasn't a genius for nothing. He knew this was how Iruka knew so many things about Kakashi and why the other man didn't seem to know him. This would explain the chidori. It was like everything clicked into place. His heart squeezed painfully, irrationally, stupidly. He berated himself. But then he realized the man was speaking again.

"Kisame tortured me for almost a month and then Itachi killed me." Iruka was reaching over and tried to take his hand but Itachi stood and snatched his hand away.

"What!" Itachi shouted, staring at Iruka in horror. "What!"

He remembered the night of the ANBU trials when Iruka had taken his mask off – the look of horror on his face. He had seen an expression on his face – It was fear and hatred. Itachi remembered it all too well. He also remembered their conversation on the beach about when Iruka had been tortured – Itachi's ardent wish that he could've saved Iruka. He was such a fool. Iruka must have been laughing at him on the inside! Emotions rolled through him, it was taking everything he could keep his face as expressionless as he could, he was not sure if he succeeded. His mind was reeling.

"It wasn't you, 'Tachi." Iruka said in a soothing voice, his brown eyes looking at him with concern. "I'm totally over it. It was that other Itachi, besides; he was pretty nice about it actually. I mean, Kisame was the total jerk about it and he got what he deserved. You just killed me nice and neat. You even apologized."

"Don't thank me!" Itachi found himself shouting. "I don't know…I can hardly believe any of this!"

"I can show you if you'd rather…" Iruka offered.

"What?" Itachi said.

"Give me your hands." Iruka stood beside him and ordered.

"Why?" Itachi demanded.

"Kami, you've gotten bratty." Iruka groused and reached for his hands anyways. "How old are you now, anyways?"

"Why?" Itachi asked in a hostile way, glaring at the man. Then he abruptly remembered their last conversation, about how he'd been 'too young' and he wondered if that was why Iruka was asking. It probably wasn't but he couldn't help the blush that snuck up over his cheeks. He hoped the older man just assumed it was from the alcohol. "I'm sixteen. And I'm not a brat. But you should explain yourself rather than just ordering me around."

"Fine, I was going to do this Taichou." Iruka said, peering into his eyes fixedly.

Itachi looked at Iruka's eyes. That's funny; the tomoe looked exactly like his. Wait – exactly, identically to his sharingan eyes. Wait, how did Iruka even have sharingan eyes at all? Just how many secrets did this man have? And he was going argue that he wasn't his Taichou anymore, but then he was sucked into the man's memories.

Iruka was in a dungeon. He had been badly beaten; his entire body was covered in bruises, cuts, lash marks, open sores – blood. His nose was broken and bleeding. One eye blackened and unable to open. He was curled in a fetal position and breathing heavily. He was shirtless but still wearing regulation chuunin pants and a ragged looking kunai pouch on his left leg. He was barefoot and most of his toenails were bloody. There were screams from other rooms nearby.

Iruka sat up against the wall weakly. Someone else had entered the room. His hand clutched at the wall for support.

A man's shadow loomed over Iruka but he didn't flinch. A long katana appeared.

Iruka nodded, as if expecting it, almost greedily wanting it.

"Never…betray Konoha…" Iruka whispered.

"Oh, Kami, finish him off already, Itachi…!" Kisame urged, impatiently. "He just keeps repeating that. Fucking broken record. If I have to hear it one more time I'm going to explode!"

"Then leave the room, Kisame." Itachi said quietly.

The blue man grunted and then there was a sound of the door closing.

The shadow moved closer. Iruka's hand clutched at the wall tighter.

"Never…betray Konoha…!" Iruka said thickly. He was missing a few teeth, he reached up and rubbed his mouth the with back of his hand.

Uchiha Itachi stalked closer to the weakened prisoner, and placed the tip of his long blade against his throat. He started to slice his throat but a coughing fit seized him as he did so. He coughed up blood, looking down at the tanned man underneath his blade. A few drops of his blood splattered down on his face.

"I'm sorry, Umino Iruka." Uchiha Itachi said.

Iruka stared at the man in surprise, why was he sorry? He looked…actually sorry! But Iruka was already reaching down into his kunai pouch and pulling out the time travel scroll, pouring his life chakra into the thing and for better or worse making this decision, he wouldn't – he couldn't take the time to decipher the apologies of a clan murderer – nay, his murderer at this time. He was dying, he could feel his body falling to the floor, he could feel the pull of darkness, but he was staring up and all he could see was Itachi's disturbingly beautiful charcoal eyes watching him with the saddest expression. Then darkness.

It was a funny thing, watching these memories again. Iruka remembered that his old body had been filled with loss and the love of Kakashi – sadness and bitterness that he had not been saved. But he personally couldn't get past that look of sadness in Itachi's eyes. Why did he look like that? Curious. Alas, life would be unbearably boring if we had answers to all our questions, ne?

Iruka pulled them out of the memories and Itachi pushed himself away from him abruptly.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Kokoro was glaring behind her eyelashes from across the room where she was flirting with some human boy. Ryuu snorted. Well, two could play at that game, he thought. He pulled a tavern wench that was passing by into his lap and tweaked her nipples and then looked fiercely over at Kokoro to see if she was watching. She was. The serving girl simpered up at him and pretended to complain, but she was wrapping her arms around his neck and grinding her hips against his henged body. Ryuu sighed and kept up the charade. He glanced over and internally cackled with glee at the annoyed look on Kokoro's face.

"We can take this upstairs?" The wench sucked on his earlobe. "I would fuck you for free."

Ryuu grinned and grabbed the wench's ass, peering over at Kokoro. God she looked hot tonight. Her blue hair was piled up messily into two long pigtails, and she was wearing this skimpy, clingy pink outfit. Always with the pink! If he squinted hard enough he could see her damn nipples. Damn demon! She was driving him crazy! He knew she was doing it on purpose. He wasn't as stupid as he looked. Wait, did he just insult himself in his own thoughts? Damnit!

Iruka sent them out for undercover recognizance; the dragon knew he was damn invaluable this kind of work. He literally could not become intoxicated. He had four stomachs – apparently something to do with some ability to metabolize the alcohol. Not only could he pretend to be drunk and not actually be drunk, but he was likable and amicable. He was the perfect undercover agent for recon work. Additionally, Kokoro was a surprisingly good actress and a great piece of tail. They were great at subtlety cajoling, teasing, or flat out starting rumors regarding Harbinger. They also frequently found his targets this way.

The man across the room was starting to get a little too grabby with Kokoro. Ryuu abruptly stood up and nearly dropped the wench who he had forgotten was in his lap. He set her aside and walked across the room to shove aside the man who had dared to try and to shove his hand down Kokoro's kimono.

Ryuu picked the guy up; he was scrawny and mortal. He smelled like sake and stale sweat. He shook him a few times. "You dared touch her perfection?" He rasped, not realizing that smoke rings were escaping his henged face. If he realized that it might seem odd that a human man with blond hair might have smoke rings billowing from his nostrils, he didn't mention it.

"I'm sorry, man! She-she was asking for it!" The crude man stuttered; the mortals face was a mask of pain and fear. Ryuu liked it because he was choking him.

"Ryuu, please stop. We're drawing…unwarranted attention." Kokoro put her hand on his arm, her voice strained.

He glanced over at her anxious, beautiful face and sighed. He let go of the man and dropped him to the floor. They both transported out of the bar and returned in the living room Tanigakure. Ryuu was glad the apartment was empty for once. He slumped in the black leather couch and folded his arms behind his head, hoping she would let the whole matter drop.

After a few moments Kokoro walked silently over to him, back in her typical form and he growled. It was so wrong of him. She was a demon! She was technically older than him. She was smarter than him. She never let him have the remote. She always took too long in the bathroom. She always wore pink. Who has blue hair? Why on earth did she choose this ridiculous form? Oh Kami she was climbing on his lap, her neon blue pigtails waving to and fro.

"Now, Ryuu…what was it that you were saying about perfection earlier…?" She purred in his ear.

In her own way, Kokoro more perverted than he was. Kami, she was perfection. Not that he was going to tell her that.

"I don't know what you're talking about, demon." His voice rumbled low in his chest. He refused to move his hands. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. They had been dancing around this for months and she was going to have to make the first move.

"No?" She whispered in seductive voice.

"No, I was merely protecting a comrade during a time of crisis." He shrugged and licked his lips nervously. Of course he knew she could take care of herself and certainly didn't need him helping. He hoped she didn't get angry at him. Although she could get pretty cute when she was angry and worked up. She would start pointing her finger at him and using big words and threatening to tell Iruka, and he could get pretty worked up watching her pigtails bounce back and forth. No stop staring. You're just going to look stupid, Ryuu. More so than usual!

"Is that so, Ryuu?" She smiled wickedly up at him and actually grinded a little in his lap. He shifted uncomfortably in his henged form. "I'm so lucky that you were there to protect me from that scrawny, little mortal man!" She laughed and looked at him closely.

Ryuu blushed damnit. Damn her demon hide! She thinks she can manipulate him, trick him into being the one to make the first move but he wasn't going to budge. He was over five hundred years old. There were war scrolls written about him! Battle poems written in his honor! Mortals trembled at his mere presence! Mountains quaked at his fire! Clouds pared before his flames! And this blue haired damn demon was sitting his lap making him blush like…he couldn't remember ever.

"You know, I can henge into a dragon form if you'd prefer…" She whispered lightly in his ear.

Maybe if I don't blink, my eyes won't tear up, Ryuu thought wildly. But he did and he blurted out, "I love you."

A/N: Hey, wow, that was a lot of ground to cover in that chapter…kind of all over the place, right? Jiraiya, Space–Time Ninjutsu training, Harbinger propaganda, Itachi learns the truth, Ryuu and Kokoro flirting – wow - ! I really opened up a lot of cans of worms but didn't end or explain a whole lot of anything, huh? Sometimes chapters are like that. AND a huge thanks to everyone who has left wonderful reviews and sent me lovely PM's and tweets…! Super glad to hear everyone is loving the story. Really hope you like this chapter-!

Please Review: ^_^

-Nevis