Chapter 27
When the hood was pulled off, the glare blinded Iruka at first. He turned his head far enough to get the large mass to block the light, and he shocked back. The mass in his blurred vision was not an inanimate object. It was moving.
He struggled with the acute urge to flee. Maybe he'd done this at some point but in his available memory he'd never been hooded, much less transported like a prisoner, and in his fragile state it was all he could do to keep a grip on his panic and claustrophobia.
Moreno's sternum stood at eye level and it had moved very, very close, that iron grip catching his arms – to steady or to seize him, it was not yet clear.
"Calm yourself. I realize that it's disruptive to be teleported over such a distance, but it's over now. There's no cause for concern. I'm on your side, remember? This is a debriefing, not an interrogation," he said smoothly, and let that carefully crafted manipulation hit home. The muscles under his hands' control lost some of their panicked tension, and he fed some play into the line, hooking his catch by letting it think it was getting away.
Over time, and now, with this carefully controlled situation, Umino was starting to trust him less conditionally. A mistake, to be sure, but one he had orchestrated masterfully in a very short time, and intended to push even farther.
"I'm sorry. I'm, sorry, I just..." Iruka's breathless voice trailed off.
"No need to apologize. I fully understand. This situation would test any man's composure. I think you're doing very well, considering."
The smaller nin caved a little more. Somewhere, in a purposely ignored part of his gut, Ibiki wished, just the tiniest bit, that he didn't have be deceptive. They really had extracted more performance and sacrifice from this dedicated individual already than most give in a lifetime. He suffered silently as best he could, without all the bellyaching so popular in conversation among the troops these days. Even back when the elite bent him over and beat him down for his low rank and obvious differences, ragging him relentlessly to force him to change to match them or suffer the consequences, he held to his own standards. His way was the more traditional, more correct, more selflessly noble. They would have done well to take a lesson from his pious, humble service instead of indulging themselves in forcing his joyless compliance with their macho, egotistical games.
That was all as irrelevant as hell this day. Dutiful little Umino's warrior side had spent a fair stretch in the sun performing on the same level as the big bad boys who used to beat him down, the equal of any ANBU, and that captive facet held secrets that might pose a threat to the village. Within these walls, by any method necessary, every effort would be made to extract that information. The net worth of this unit of human capital had been credited to the village tenfold already; so the risk of rendering him useless for further service was perfectly acceptable in terms of labor accounting.
The mining would begin with few holds barred. The Hokage had agreed with his assessment, although not unconditionally. Her humanitarian conditions were firm but not set in stone. Her mercy could be swayed without too much difficulty, if need be. He had done so before.
The deep brown eyes met his, hesitant at first, so he smiled, just slightly, believably, and softened his facial expression appropriately. The defenseless, memory-hampered nin took the bait and no longer tried to look away. His relief was almost palpable, and his foolish budding trust wasn't hidden at all.
Ibiki took him by both hands then, as if for a dance, and politely turned him, supporting his uneasy sense of balance and guiding him further into his place of business, smiling genuinely now in anticipation. Tsunade would be here any minute, and their work could begin in earnest.
A buzzing went off in his ear.
"What is it?"
"Visitor."
"Our Hokage, correct?"
"No. Hatake."
He suppressed a snarl. Iruka, inches from his cheek, surely heard that name.
"Sit over here for me, will you?" he said, patience testing his ability to maintain the charade of benevolence. The interruption had broken the spell. The dark eyes had that haunted, worried, suspicious look again, and even though he sat as directed, he was clearly trying to listen. Supremely irritated, Ibiki made his way across the room and cupped a hand over his earpiece. "What does he want?"
"To speak to you."
"I suppose I already know why."
"Likely."
"I'm busy. Send him on his way."
"He would also like to speak to Umino Iruka."
"I'm sure he would. However, that is not going to happen. How did he get here, anyway?"
"Seems that Shiranui-san transported him here at his request. He...doesn't look to be well at all, to be truthful."
"He's a fool. Send word to the infirmary. Have them pick him up. We don't want to be adding time to his recovery. Missions are stacking up since he's been offline."
"One moment!"
Ibiki didn't like the sound of that last transmission. He hesitated before pulling open the door, keeping his subject in full view per his instructions, but stepping out to get a better sense of what was happening in the entry.
Tsunade's voice was ringing out, loud and clear. Ibiki felt a dab of satisfaction. If there ever had been a time when the unruly copy-nin had been caught red-handed, this was it. He'd be on the flash-track straight back to the hospital now.
Iruka cleared his throat abruptly, hoping to get some kind of explanation. He wasn't trying to hide his concern with the situation.
"Everything is fine," Ibiki started to soothe, then dropped it. "Look. Just sit there, be quiet and hold on." There was no point in making small talk until this interruption was resolved, but it would be resolved momentarily, he was sure of it.
Tsunade's voice was the next one in his ear.
"Trade me places. Come talk to him. Make it brief. And go easy on him, Moreno. He's not well."
xxxxxxx
"I understand why you've moved him here. I figured this would happen eventually. I just want to make sure you don't poison him against me while you're spoon-feeding him his past. That's your prejudice. You already told him I'm a liar, when in fact, you're the liar. Either that, or you're ignorant."
He hated to explain it, because he didn't feel that anyone deserved an explanation. If they wanted to think he was a heartless self-indulgent bastard, if they gave him so little credit, then so be it. Fuck their opinions, and to hell with them. He was a pro. He functioned on a dozen levels at once. He may have enjoyed the mission Ibiki gave him unreasonably, but he didn't ace his task in the prison's visitation chamber in that manner just for his own prurient interest. It was the absolute best way to get results and it worked beneath the beneath like a charm. So much so, even this so-called expert in the field failed to see it.
But the nagging, shitty attitude was getting ridiculous. It had already wasted too much of his valuable time. And now he was supposed to sit back, and risk letting them spin his actions to suit their objectives and interfere with an important personal relationship. Enough was enough.
"I followed your fucking orders. If you don't like my style, then I get that, but stop crying about it and get your story straight."
Ibiki stood taller in outrage.
"You're insane. And you are a liar."
"Tell me something. You sent me in with a job to do. To produce a specific result that you wanted. Are you telling me that you didn't get that result?"
Ibiki scowled in response.
"That's the little piece you seem to leave out of this story every time, isn't it?"
"Just because he happened to perform a certain way after your disgusting behavior doesn't mean you can take credit for it."
"Bullshit. He performed because I eliminated his resistance. He still had one foot planted in the outside world, to keep his sanity and to resist total emergence in his role. I took that footing away from him, just like you wanted. That was a pretty shitty assignment to give to somebody's friend. But I'm one fucking hundred percent professional, all the fucking time, when I'm working. I didn't let our personal relationship get in the way. I ripped him clear out of his safety zone and left him ready to do just about anything. And it worked, didn't it? How fucking professional is it that you won't admit that I succeeded in doing exactly what you ordered? Tell me, why were you so disappointed? Did I block you by getting there first? Maybe you were hoping I'd just chat with him, and when that failed, you'd pretend that you had to force yourself to do the very same thing."
"That wasn't any grand scheme or pretending on your part. You took total advantage of the situation!"
"I did exactly what was necessary and I live my roles when I'm on duty. That's basic training. Bottom line, you screwed yourself out your chance by sending me in first. That is not my fault. Enough with the character assassination." So, yeah. It was hot, and he wouldn't have missed it for the world. But he didn't waltz in and do it on a whim. It wasn't anybody's business how he felt about it.
"So how long did you have to sit around rationalizing before you cooked up a way to spin this to make yourself look good, instead of like the filthy pervert that you are?"
"I 'cooked' this up in about 5 minutes, and it was just before I went in and nailed that mission. I'll admit that it was a little half baked until I laid eyes on him and assessed his mental status. The rest was improv and natural talent. Seeing the chakra cuffs clinched it, actually. When I saw he had them on, that was it. I knew I could do everything I had to do in no time, and there'd be no risk of hurting him physically in some kind of struggle. So tell me I'm lying. Tell me he didn't go back fully submissive and let whatever was going to happen happen."
"He didn't submit to anything close to what you perpetrated on him."
"That's not an answer."
Ibiki glared. He wasn't sure why he liked this version even less than the one he believed up until now. It stunk of the truth though, with the exception of his own motives. He wouldn't have done the same thing; instead, if Hatake's visit had done no good, it might have resulted in releasing Iruka back to the Academy for his inability to complete the assignment.
As much of an asshole as Hatake was, he wasn't completely to blame for the way his choice of tactics launched his alleged friend down the long cursed road that lead to this point. The primary responsibility was still squarely on the Intelligence chief's rigid shoulders.
"I didn't think you'd want to admit it. Don't feel too bad. Between the two of us, I'd much rather be the one to take care of that sort of task. I'm a little more talented in that department. And I'm not afraid to get into my work."
"Let me guess. You explained this to Lady Tsunade," Ibiki said tiredly.
"No reason not to."
Ibiki nodded. A jerk, but a jerk with a tad of genius now and then. Tsunade never felt as strongly about the scarecrow's prison antics, and a reasonable explanation would be all that she would need to let it go.
"If you insist, I'll take your version into consideration," he said finally, tired of arguing. "We've wasted too much time on this ridiculous subject as it is. I hope you realize it's not important to anybody but you."
Kakashi let more of his weight shift against Genma, his silent partner but for the occasional sound of teeth on senbon. Even if Ibiki wanted to disregard his statement, Tsunade would be there to keep him honest, and she seemed to understand his version of the incident.
"Yeah, well...good, then."
"Get him the hell out of here, Shiranui, and don't barge in like this again. You're both on report for leaving the infirmary without a release. I'm too busy for this crap. Send a bird with a request for an appointment. Then you wait like a good boy until I give you the word."
Genma hauled on Kakashi's arm, expecting resistance, and nearly pulled them both off-balance. For once, the copy-nin was compliant and more than willing to leave as directed.
"Man, now you got me on his shit list too. Nice work," Genma grumbled as he trudged away, supporting and leading Kakashi with the sense of Moreno's eyes drilling into their backs.
"Sorry. I owe you one. I just hope it makes him put his little pissing contest on hold. It's not right for him to be planting his poison just because he's bent. It's not me he'll be hurting. It'll be better for Iruka if he'll let me help him when this is over. It's not like he has any kind of normal life to return to. "
"No...it's alright. You don't owe me anything. I mean – I kind of feel like I owed Iruka one anyway, so it's all good. I've been pretty bored, hanging around the village to get my treatments. I'm not back on the duty roster until tomorrow. So, it's not like I had somewhere else to be."
"You keep saying that, but I don't see where you owe him anything." Kakashi said cautiously. Iruka/Even's part in Genma's rescue was classified, and it wasn't allowed to reveal those details, not even to such a deeply involved party. As far as Genma knew, Kakashi had run across him while he was being attended to by civilians and had sent for the party that brought him in. He never questioned the decision to leave him to wait on help rather than rush him back. They both had plenty of experience with similar dilemmas; they were close enough that Genma had total faith that Kakashi acted appropriately.
"We weren't real tight...I mean, back in the day, there was his rank, and his job, and all; and then we never really got to hit any missions together once he made jounin...but I always liked him when we did hang out. He's a straight shooter, ya know? Sometimes, I thought, maybe...well, it doesn't matter. It's just that, I had some pretty harsh thoughts about him when he was wearing that mask and avoiding everybody. I just didn't get it. Not until I saw him without it. I never did get a chance to apologize afterward."
Kakashi nodded, frowning, acknowledging the oozing horror that his own failure to protect had created.
"I just thought he was covering up a bad scar or something. Too spoiled, too used to being pretty, like he was, ya know? I was disappointed in him. I though he was being vain."
"I know. I remember hearing how you guys would talk about it."
"Then, what the hell? You knew. Why didn't you say something?"
Kakashi shrugged. "He liked sympathy even less than he liked that kind of bullshit."
"He's sure gonna be wishing for some sympathy now."
Between the Hokage and Moreno, they would flay his soul to get what they wanted.
In response, Kakashi's silence was deafening.
xxxxxx
No, Ibiki groaned inwardly, striding back to the room, trying not to reveal that he was rushing. The headstrong Hokage was having a conversation with their subject, asking him questions. She shouldn't be doing that without his presence, he had to be there to listen and record and interpret the body language as well as each and every word.
"What made you think you had to endure such treatment?"
"It was my parent's way as far back as I can remember, in keeping with the standards that they taught to me. I was aware that they feared I would always be an inferior product; a weak child considering I was born of two elite jounin. The Sandaime confirmed it after they died. He had to take it upon himself to see that I didn't become an embarrassment to my bloodline. I should have mastered these things already, but he graciously called me into his presence many times and gave me reinforcement of the rules without punishment. He taught me so many things: that one does not go against the constructed order; it is cowardice to fail to endure and persevere; to be a ninja one becomes an implement that must live to serve and obey the righteous order of the village. I didn't realize until later, when I began training to teach in the Academy – his words came directly from the Kage's Tomes," he cautiously answered the still unfamiliar woman, though compliant in respect for her title.
"Inferior product? Are you sure that the Third said such a thing to you? You were orphaned and so young, Iruka."
"When my parents passed away I showed weakness, so everyone began to distance themselves from me. In my mortal disobedience, I would go to their memorial in tears to beg for answers. And the Third saw me and stopped me from doing such a disgraceful thing. He said it was painful to lose precious people, and it was okay to have those feelings inside. But he told me to turn away from that place and hold close the shinobi standards instead, to honor their deaths by living without embarrassing them with shameful behavior, as if they were still watching to judge and correct me. I owe him a lot."
Tsunade knew well the notes on this man, left behind by the third. He in no way meant any of those things, at least not in the rather cold and dictatorial way young Iruka had perceived them. Hirusen felt strong compassion for the boy, and had ongoing concerns about his willingness to submit to abuse so long as it came from someone of greater rank, or even just a physically larger comrade. How ironic that it was his attempt to help that had set the object of his sympathy on such a bitter path of self-denial and voluntary subjugation.
"I would like to discuss this with you some more later, but for now, at least I can understand the roots of some of your beliefs."
The sudden death of Iruka's totalitarian, traditionalist parents left him stranded without the ability to give himself permission to grieve or accept comfort. It wasn't too far different from the parenting style of the career-obsessed White Fang - Kakashi's father, who allowed his self-doubt over protocol and public opinion to take priority over the welfare of his own young son. It was whispered that the only consideration he gave to the boy in the end was the decision not to ask him to be his second, instead doing without the traditional backstop of having a trusted man at the ready to lop off his head should his resolve stray, or the pain cause him to cry out too much and rob his end of its dignity. He most certainly intended for his son to find his corpse, and for that, Tsunade could never bring herself to admire the Fang quite so much. The damage to Kakashi had been permanent and pervasive, heaping punishment for another man's sins upon that abandoned child's head. Although Kakashi had gone in a linear path to the station of bloodthirsty elite, Iruka's crazed, convoluted journey had eventually taken him to the same level.
So, she mused further, maybe Kakashi's deep concern about their next step with Iruka had more to do with the risks in returning that quantum change than a need to air out his laundry. He came to make a point, but not just the one he expounded on. He came with Shiranui, and they stood together, to illustrate that Iruka had support among the jounin now. He was no longer an isolated, incidental person of low standing. The highest ranked nin were watching with interest. This act might be playing out behind the veil of T&I secrecy, but in the end, the men would know the result. The loyal soldiers were not in the mood to turn a blind eye to this affair.
She caught Ibiki's irritated glare without flinching. What did he expect? She just wasn't able to resist using Iruka's vulnerable condition to get him to satisfy some of her curiosity about his difficulty in accepting that the Third was dead, among other things. Long before all this mess, his behavior was unusual and puzzling, always contradictory; yet he had a rare and precious sort of vitality and warmth that drew others to him without thinking. There was a lot of that spark in his protege Naruto, too. She was not surprised to learn that much of it seemed to develop from extreme personal suffering and the complete loss of emotional support at a young age.
Morino cleared his throat expectantly.
"Ah, yes, so you're back. Everything all settled?"
"Yes. What have I missed? What are your wishes?"
"We had a little warm-up here, right Iruka? Just some harmless, nostalgic conversation. And that's what we're going to be hoping for from here on out, too. Chatting and some mental exercises designed to ease you back into remembering, a little bit at a time."
Iruka swallowed in the intense glare of two pair of prying, anticipating eyes. He had no illusions that this was going to be some hand-held walk down memory lane.
Ibiki put a hand on his shoulder lightly, maneuvering him as he spoke.
"You're still recovering. Your sense of balance is entirely unreliable. It's best if you take your place here, just to be on the safe side. You still tire easily, so we want to make sure that you'll be in a position that is restful. You'll be secured, so that you can't accidentally tumble off and get hurt."
He sat on the strange bed, and through the many layers, his thighs detected the solid, unyielding surface beneath the padding. He shocked stiffly upright with a jolt of understanding.
Steel. Polished, sterile, icy cold steel.
"Is something wrong?" Tsunade asked, stepping back, letting Ibiki handle the physical end of things.
"Ah..." Iruka's eyes began to water, and the mysterious sensation of sitting naked on bare metal faded. He rubbed his palms forcefully on his khaki-covered thighs, assuring that the material was really there.
"Take your time."
"No, I'm sorry, it's nothing. It's...is this metal underneath? Have I been here before?"
Ibiki frowned. Iruka had been healed on this table, when he was injured during his time in prison. It was done here to make him uncomfortable, and to impress upon him his need to attend to his duty without regard for his own comfort.
"Yes. What do you remember?"
"It's steel. Polished and shiny, like a mirror. Hard and cold and..."
"What else? Not about the table. Describe what was happening."
"Nothing. I don't know. I feel like...I mean, I felt like...when I'm on the table...I shouldn't be talking. At all."
Ibiki's brow creased in concentration. While treating Iruka for his injuries, he had been demanding explanation, asking questions, expecting answers...why would he feel the opposite?
It hit him. Iruka's flash of memory was of Danzou's very similar piece of equipment.
That wasn't good. The sort of things Iruka was able to tolerate under Danzou's training were made possible by the many months of jounin-level training, suffering and sacrifice that led up to that assignment. Plus the experience of his mutilation, and the aftermath, and his rebirth into missions coupled with a highly developed, grim self-denial. It all served to harden him to the point of being able to adapt and tolerate such sadistic training methods.
The present Iruka was not tough enough by half to bear it; and the granite-hard 'Even' side who experienced birth on that frigid slab of metal would likely take advantage of that, and act to recapture his domain if things went too far too fast. Even had to be fished out in tiny bits, slowly, not allowed to gain any momentum or seize control. Enough had to be coaxed out to locate and isolate all of the seals and curse-marks in Even's loyalist memory, and remove them before any embedded attack or self-destruct orders could be triggered.
Only then would they have their answers. Not until it was determined that all the information was valid and no more could be had, would the focus be allowed to change. Mission complete, it was acceptable to risk cleansing and reassembling Umino's remaining bits for the purpose of seeing how much functional man would survive – and if that man could be a trustworthy citizen once more.
xxxxxx
Tsunade wiped her hands, inspecting the two nails broken off below the quick before taking a moment to heal them back into normal shape. He partner was not sweating, but he sat heavily, with the beginnings of doubt written on his dour face.
"I'm beginning to have my doubts. Is this really going to work?"
"Not easily. You said you'd thought of another angle. I hope it's a good one."
"Yamanaka Inoichi."
She considered it for a moment. He was a member of the T&I team, off and on, so he shouldn't be difficult to bring up to speed, nor would they have to be concerned about a wagging tongue. "But why? What more can he do here? Are you just looking for a second opinion?"
"He has a slightly different approach to mind exploration. We've had good results working together. Many times, where traditional torture methods weren't possible, for one reason or another, his skills have come through. You remember the plan of the Branch Mist, I'm sure. He mined that information in one go. Took less than an hour."
Slightly bruised ego or not, her mining was getting them, if not nowhere, somewhere far too slowly. The man Ibiki suggested was indeed a specialist. She set her stubborn pride aside.
"He'll have to be careful. Danzou's no stranger their clan. His might have traps created specifically for a probe such as his."
"I won't waste any more time singing his praises. Your Ladyship already knows well his abilities and his experience. So I leave it to you to decide if the idea has sufficient merit."
"If it were your call?"
"I'd bring him in. Frankly, there's no risk, because he'll let us know if this is not within his abilities. You can be sure that he will not blunder ahead if there's any doubt. His actions are always carefully conceived and razor-sharp in execution."
"I was under the impression that you though him a bit weak."
"Not weak, exactly. He is sometimes hampered a bit more by his moral code than I would prefer."
"So he doesn't value the sound of screaming?" she asked archly.
"No. Not particularly."'
"Well. I'm surprised you have such high regard for him, then. No matter. Is he standing by?"
"I did mention I might have some work for him. Just to see if he was amenable, with his schedule being so erratic of late."
"I can't be helped; the men sensing the borders do a much better job when they know he might be dropping in at any time. They have respect for him, without reserve, and it keeps them on their toes. I assume he offered his services."
Ibiki nodded. "It's up to you. We turn up the heat and get rougher; and this early in the game, I don't know where that leaves us to go later; or we bring in someone to try something less confrontational."
"Pitching it as a softer approach? Irrelevant, at this point, don't you think?"
"I'm good either way you decide," Ibiki said, weary of the conversation. She was going to agree. He was sure of it all along. Her Q and A was getting tiresome.
"Send him in, then. Let's get his estimate. If nothing else, it will be one more possibility put to rest."
xxxx
Kakashi set the book aside, again, troubled and fed up with recuperation. The book was not serving its usual purpose very well; rather, it reminded him sharply of its deceased creator, and the lively writing within was starting to make his brain itch. Instead of painting heated pictures in his mind, the words echoed, spoken aloud in Jiraiya's husky, measured voice. He missed their conversations, his quick wit, and his warm, fatherly smile; it had him sad, angry and bitter that they had lost such a remarkable man and superior shinobi before his time.
The ANBU felt his charge's mood peak again and leaned in to give him a full-face look from the doorway before resuming his post, back turned to the untrustworthy occupant, guarding against any more co-conspirators that might help him disobey orders.
"In my day," the copy-nin said dryly, "we left babysitting to the genin."
The straight shoulders shrugged. Kakashi accepted that as a decent reply. More usual than not, they behaved as if they were guarding some inanimate object. Few would interact with him at all except to correct his misbehavior. So this guy was okay. Probably someone he'd worked with before. Although he did not recognize the mask, a former close alumni would likely wear a temporary to remain anonymous while standing guard over him. That made sense. If they had any notion that he might try to escape, they would want his opponent's skills to be unknown.
His thoughts turned back to his situation. Short of going missing-nin, he knew that he would have been forced to give them Iruka eventually. He couldn't hide him in his home with any hope of protecting him from this big of a mess. He'd tried like hell to give him time to decide to come in on his own, though, and he really hadn't given him up willingly, hadn't gone back on his word. He lost consciousness and Iruka was stolen away. It wasn't his choice, nor his fault.
He had to wonder, after everything Iruka would remember, if he would believe that. It might depend on how his interrogators painted him into the picture. He was glad that he made the effort to explain himself after all. But not for Moreno's sake; no way.
"I had to see for myself," a cheerful voice rang out. "It's true! You do, indeed, look like half-baked hell."
"Thanks for the compliment."
Guy nodded to the ANBU as he passed.
"Chaperoned, as well, I see."
"Good to see you, Guy."
"I won't bother you for long. I'm sure you still tire easily."
"I'm tired all the damned time. Man, I'm so sick of being here."
"Patience, my fallen rival. Patience. I want you to rest and heal up properly, so you have no excuses when I mop the floor with you in our next challenge." Guy grinned and thrust a hand, thumbs up, over Kakashi's blanketed chest.
"Hn."
Guy glanced behind him, and his eyes met the ANBU's, glittering deep in the mask. No question whether they were being closely monitored.
"That's quite an impressive level of security."
"If you're susceptible to being easily impressed, then...yeah...I guess so."
"I hadn't heard you'd been naughty. So is it because you're in danger, my friend?"
"I might have been...a little naughty."
"Is that so?" Guy beamed brightly. "None of my business, then, isn't that right? Just wanted to see for myself that you're on the road to recovery. And I have a couple of other stops to make. For one, I heard that Iruka is here, and..."
"Sorry, Guy, your intel is a little outdated. They relocated him last week. No visitors, believe me, I made the mistake of..."
The ANBU's hand slapped down over the copy-nin's mask, silencing the room. Guy was impressed. He barely saw the man move, but it was not teleportation – just swift, stealthy movement.
"This is not a subject you will discuss until further notice."
Guy raised his hands and shook his head, shrugging, showing that he had no idea the subject of Iruka was off-limits, but now that he did, he would do as directed.
Kakashi's lone uncovered eye glared up. He refused to mime an answer.
The hand lifted from his face.
"You made your point. But, hey - that scent on your hand? You know better than that. You're lucky your boss is back in his office."
The ANBU paused, towering over the patient, silently raising the hand he'd covered Kakashi's mouth with and flashing it with a subtle jutsu. With a nod, he was suddenly back in the hall, facing away from the room.
"They forget I was in the biz myself."
"One of the few credentials you have that I do not."
"Sorry you ended up here just to see me after all. I'm not very entertaining."
"Oh, well, that's not quite true. Did you not hear? Genma's in a bad way. He had another sudden relapse. The neurosarcoidosis."
"No way. He said he thought he was finally getting past all that. We even..." he glanced up to see the ANBU standing inside the doorway, facing him. Better to say less than more. "I saw him last week, and he seemed to be just fine."
"Yes, that must have been the case, because they cleared him to go out on a team mission. But he was not as well as they thought. He was sent out to the field too soon."
Kakashi blushed immediately, flooded with guilt and worry. His duty had called for it, but by leaving Genma with the civilians, his care had been well-meaning but inadequate. The barbs had been removed before the poison had been neutralized, causing it to spread effectively like the booby-trap that it was intended to be. Having no experience, they failed to recognize that his rapid deterioration was being caused by toxins and no antidotes were administered until hours later when the Leaf team arrived. A chronic inflammatory neurological illness now preyed upon his health, with no known cure; opportunistic, it would lie dormant in between attacks, and each time it rallied it dashed the hope that the affliction was losing strength. Twice before he had started on a mission in perfectly good health and spirits, only to have his nervous system go haywire under mission stress. He was no longer certified for solo duty, a crushing blow to an assassinations expert.
"Was he injured?" Kakashi barely dared to ask.
"His team aborted on the trip out. They rushed him back when he started having difficulty seeing and hearing. Raidou said he was having convulsions and couldn't respond to questions by the time they got to the gate. They were fortunate in a way, though. He was truthful with everyone as soon as he felt something off, instead of merely trying to persevere. This time they were able to turn back before any of the targets knew they were there."
"Sounds like it was just the travel and the prep that got him this time."
"That's what it sounded like to me, too."
"He's all right now, though, isn't he? Now that he's here. How long?"
"They brought him back yesterday. I got Raidou's version at the mission desk. He came by to ask for the variances on the mission reports right after they got back in. No one's heard anything official, so I thought I'd check in on him and let everyone know how he's doing."
"When you see him...tell him I said to hurry up and get better, all right? And, Guy...do you think you'd have time to let me know how he is before you leave?"
"Well, of course! I've got a little more time on my hands these days, since you've dropped out of our competitions!"
"Hn," Kakashi agreed.
"I'm certain that everyone is getting the care they need. Don't fret. I'm glad I came by to see you. There are more than a few asking about you, too, you know."
"I'm a little worn out," Kakashi said, closing his eyes, wishing for Guy to leave – not to be alone, but to hurry him along to see Genma, and report back on his condition. Sakura was well aware that he partnered with the senbon nin quite a bit; they'd been laid up here together getting patched up by her team several times. So she should have known to tell him. He shouldn't be having to get it through rumor and third party.
But Sakura was also aware of his role in Genma's difficult recovery from that ill-fated mission. He wondered whether she, and possibly Genma himself, felt strongly that he was to blame for Gen's complications; or worse, that he was in such bad shape that she didn't want to say anything.
"I'll let you rest. Be back soon."
"Shiranui-san is in intensive care. Authorized personnel only," the ANBU interrupted flatly as Guy started for the open door. "And visitation for Hatake-san is restricted due to his condition. You may return 24 hours from now, if you wish, but no sooner."
"Shit," Kakashi muttered from the bed, leaving his eyes closed, throwing an arm over his face and letting the tubes dangle where they may.
xxxx
"Your description was very accurate," Inoichi said. "This is a bloody, tangled mess, indeed."
"What can you do here?"
"I..." he shook his head, lower lip clenched over his top teeth. "I have to say, I don't know for certain. I can try...and I would definitely like to. But I don't know how much I can accomplish. Not until I go in active."
"Were you able to identify many traps?"
"Well, that is one thing. I actually disabled two of them. They were so obvious I thought at first they might be decoys, but they were real. His speech center was the target of the first one. The second was coronary. Someone rummaging around hard enough with no caution at all could trigger them I guess, but they weren't very volatile to that sort of contact. I removed them easily enough. I think, more to the point, they could be triggered but not disabled or removed by the subject. They may have been placed there as his self-defense, an option to help him preserve his intel in dire circumstances. And they would serve double duty as threats and controls by the caster. Iruka was actively aware on an organic level of the ease with which he could be rendered permanently mute or instantly dead of an apparent heart attack. He couldn't reveal this to me himself, of course. To do so without permission would be the same as setting it off."
Tsunade had to hand it to Inoichi. She had been groping around for days, clawing somewhat blindly as she searched in this abnormal mental configuration, but she never saw those traps. He clearly had a better method of penetrating the mess.
"That's excellent work. Far more progress than I hoped for in a preliminary. So, with the traps disabled, are we clear to begin mining in earnest?"
Inoichi shook his head slowly.
"This is just on the surface. And it's on the exposed side, where the fairer emotions are attempting to survive. There are pitfalls and dangerous cloaked areas that lack distinction still, and they abound on the grimmer secluded side. This isn't something that can both be expedited and have a good result. What is the time frame? Why the urgency?"
"The information he's housing is time-sensitive. We can't be certain of the fate of the Uzingan without corroboration of some kind. The research program is poised to make certain experimental advances, and they aren't without risk. If we find sufficient evidence that the technique is lost, we can stand down. If there's the slightest chance that the eyes have been revived, or made to withstand protracted storage, we must go forward and pursue them straight away. In any case, it's vital that we discover just what has happened to them." She eyed him critically. He seemed less enthusiastic than before his initial venture. "What is your assessment?"
"I can do what I can until I reach a hard block. Then I may require significant assistance. Support would be prudent to have on standby, in any case."
"Any progress is welcome, the swifter the better. Please do whatever is necessary, as soon as possible."
Inoichi simply nodded his assent and sat down, placing two fingers across his right brow, just to the side of the metal plate on his forehead protector.
"He's preparing. We should step out," Ibiki said quietly. "For something this complex, it may take upwards of half an hour."
The sandy-haired telepathic expert set his troubled mind to concentrating. The view into Umino's condition was as deeply disturbing as any he had seen.
It was harder to absorb in part because of his history with this man, his daughter's well-admired sensei. The rumors of the academy instructor's easy availability for night games with the jounin had prompted him to seriously review Iruka-sensei's psychological profile years ago, back when he personally screened everyone twice that had any interaction with his family members.
Iruka's profile revealed his strong moral compass, extreme diligence, a tendency towards submissiveness, and a rich history of personal tragedy. It reflected his suitability for missions as fair to good. And at that time, the last editor for the file had been the Third himself, and his overall assessment had been very positive. Inoichi had no reason to question the file's veracity. Having confirmed his young daughter's glowing assessment of her sweet, if occasionally demanding, loud and strict, teacher, and finding that he presented no hidden peril, he never gave it further thought.
The complex nin unfolding beneath his invasive probe was so much more than he ever conceived from what he thought had been a thorough and thoughtful screening.
Xxxx
The tall, handsome young carpenter scratched at the rough cloth rubbing his neck, feigning a pitiful, almost begging expression while waiting for his answer.
"It's not like I have anything that really needs to be fixed. But you've got a good idea there. Sounds as if it would be nice to look at."
"So, so, give me the job, shinobi-sama. I'll make it look very nice for you."
"And the materials?"
"You buy, or you pay me and I buy, it's all the same to me."
"Right. Well. I'm willing to give you a chance. I'll get the materials. Come back by this time next week and I should have them...Kei, was it?"
"Yes. Thank you so much."
"Well, sorry to hear you've had such a difficult time of it. But keep working hard, and you'll bounce back. Do a good job here and a lot of people will see your work. Word gets out, you could be very comfortable in your new trade."
"Thank you. Thank you, shinobi-sama, so very, very much. I can start clearing the way and preparing the ground tomorrow so there is no delay." Kei bowed low.
"There's no hurry, but if that's what you'd like to do, that's fine. Please be mindful of the property line. I'll leave the rest to you."
Kei/Jeninki's smile was genuine. A week diddling around, pretending to do a little construction work, in close proximity and partial view of the T&I property. Yes, he understood, far better than any transient civilian would have, how important it was to respect that particular property line.
He would watch, explore, and learn, enough to find the weaknesses in the T&I facility's external security. If it didn't have any before he got there, it soon would. His unique sensing abilities would slowly pick up all of the safeguards, and it would be leagues easier to accomplish while standing comfortably in plain sight than trying to do it while lurking around cloaked.
Hold on, Iruka-kun, I'm here. Just hold on until your back-up arrives.
xxxxxx
"What the hell? I went left. I told you to go right and you didn't!"
"My beast scroll technique requires that I have sufficient room to unfurl the paper, create my art and release the drawing. That is unnecessarily difficult standing in a thicket. I gave you the hand sign advising you of my change in direction. You waved, acknowledging my message!"
Naruto grumbled, rubbing his hip. The inky wolf smacked him so hard on release he nearly missed his cue to produce the clones on time. He'd waved away Sai's motions in order to concentrate. He hadn't really interpreted it at all.
"Your sign wasn't clear!"
"It's was simple miscommunication, then. Your anger is not appropriate. It is never my intention to sabotage a mission."
"Not lately, anyway," Naruto snapped, then caught himself. That wasn't fair. They'd worked this out, more or less, already, and Sai was supposedly no longer Danzou's subordinate.
But he wasn't dumb enough not to notice that Sai seemed to have done some backsliding lately. For a while there, it seemed like he was starting to loosen up just a tiny bit, and trying to act more like a normal guy. Those memories of his brother had made him smile, and more than once he mentioned that they shared a dream, although he never elaborated as to what the dream of a pair of deadly lifelong ROOT agents might be. This regression back to cold fish seemed to have started when he went to formally receive his dismissal from Danzou's service. Whatever the process was for getting released, it took a full day and Sai came back as shaken and lacking in concentration as Naruto had ever seen him.
Since then, he would not respond to any attempt to draw him into conversation about his brother, and the fake smile was the only expression he made if expression he made at all.
Sai stared back, shaking his head, before picking up his brush from the dirt.
"So. Tell me something. What about that Danzou guy? What's his deal?"
"Master Danzou is a noble supporter of the village and he is a revered elder in the house of commissioners," Sai replied, re-shaping the bristles with great care before storing his weapon properly.
"That sounds like something you memorized. Tell me for real. He did a bunch of weird shit to you, didn't he?"
"To me?" Sai looked around, as if checking for enemies. "Master Danzou gave me position and honor."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But what about his training? I know he thinks he's all bad-ass using those stupid Mist methods. But I've heard a lot of other creepy rumors about the rest of his training."
Sai opened his mouth to speak and choked, coughing until he gagged. Naruto stepped up to give his back a good pounding, but the art scroll equipment was in the way, and Sai staggered away from him, arm out as if to ward him off.
It took a few minutes to get his breath; Naruto put his face right up to his pale teammate's.
"What is that glow? What are you up to, anyway?"
Sai shook his head, and tried to turn away.
"Open up. Open your damned mouth!"
He opened his mouth with a pained expression and revealed the source of the light. A curse mark glowed in activation. Sai's mouth snapped back shut.
"Danzou's mark? He didn't remove it? Is that..?"
"Master Danzou is a noble supporter of the village and he is a revered elder in the house of commissioners."
"That's no answer."
"Master Danzou gave me position and honor."
"Yeah, but..."
"Master Danzou gave me position and honor."
"You don't make any sense. Who the hell does that guy think he is, to treat his own people like that, anyway?"
"Master Danzou is a noble supporter of the village and he is a revered elder in the house of commissioners. Master Danzou gave me position and honor."
"Jeeze, what's wrong with you?" Naruto looked closer, suspicious. Sai was trying to look cool, but he was experiencing something really unpleasant. It finally made its way through his thick skull.
"Master Danzou's position as noble supporter is without question and no further explanation is necessary."
"Don't you mean no further explanation is allowed, instead of necessary?" Naruto frowned. "You can't say anything else when I ask about him. Can you?"
Sai stared, fighting to stop those preloaded statements from leaving his mouth again. In a torture situation, the broken record response effectively communicated his sealed state to any intelligence operative of talent. In a situation with friendlies, it was a little absurd, and the pain and pressure from trying to suppress it made it difficult to behave as though nothing was wrong.
That was yet another reason why ROOT shinobi only associated with other ROOT except for rare cross-functional missions.
And why Sai still experienced a constant discomfort, as close to the feeling of abandonment and rejection as someone with castrated emotions could feel, at being sent away from ROOT to live as a standard shinobi of the Leaf.
He hadn't done anything wrong. He had complied with all orders, produced nearly flawless mission results, and submitted to unspeakable, secret acts at his patron's whim without complaint or unbidden reaction. Yet it seemed he did not have sufficient value for Lord Danzou, his owner in lieu of guardian, to keep him in his private forces.
Naruto examined the pale face very closely. A little sweat was forming.
"My past is not something I can talk about," he said finally, swallowing hard against his tongue's painful, swollen seal.
"But I need to know! Iruka-sensei is still stuck in the mess that guy made!"
"I understand your request, but I cannot tell you anything."
"Man. Do you think Iruka-sensei has one of those seals? I should go look."
Sai opened his mouth to comment, and the curse shut it for him. He swallowed and wiped the prior conversation from his head to restore his control.
"The second leg of this mission will be much more difficult if we delay any longer. The sun will set before we reach the clearing. It will be at a disadvantage in explaining our presence."
"Yeah. You're right. Let's move out. Did you get all the stuff you dropped?"
Sai pasted on his obligatory smile and nodded.
"That's just creepy. If you can't smile for real, you should just have, you know, your normal look."
Sai nodded without changing expression, purposely, sure that it would irritate the fiery demon vessel with very little effort. He would never sabotage a mission. But despite his emotionless state, he had preferences, and he strongly preferred they they find him unsuitable for this sort of teamwork, so that he might return to his proper position in ROOT, the only place he'd ever called "home'. With Danzou and his constant, severe, aggressive attention, on the welcome sterility of the rigid, reliable table, where his master enjoyed testing and taunting him by night and by day. Without the massive, all-invasive pressure of Danzou's leadership, the world was a cold and empty waiting room; waiting for what, he did not know.
What a pathetic guy, Naruto thought, shaking his head and leading the way. The thought of how Iruka-sensei might have worn that mechanical smile on his disfigured face while working for Danzou turned his stomach, and he chased it out of his head right away. Sensei's face was healed and his smile was so perfect the last time he saw him. Not that he smiled much, but the little bit that he did, it was totally warm and genuine, even as frightening and confusing as his situation must be.
Sai sensed Naruto's sadness and followed in puzzled silence, wondering why his attempt at aggravation fell so flat. It seemed he might never understand how emotions worked, no matter how hard he tried.
xxxx
"I don't think it's reasonable to assume that this will go smoothly and work right off the bat. We must be ready to retreat en masse if any one of us makes that call, at any time. Considering the traps and seals, the potential for sudden interruption is high. I suppose that our tactics might as well change accordingly. We'll concentrate less on preservation, and more on the extraction. That should free you up to use more of your usual methods, Moreno. We should go in hard, do things faster and with more force; I think that's the best approach to make sure we can come away with something this time. If the empathic methods fall short, it's likely that we won't be able to avoid causing serious damage anyway. If we set off a fail-safe and have to bail out, we'll at least have whatever we've managed to get up to that point."
Ibiki looked her in those lovely, cool eyes. She must have been unbeatable in her prime sannin days, he thought, admiring the cold steel in her will of fire. No one would expect this voluptuous woman of such power and unswerving determination. He chalked up some of it to her lack of offspring. In his opinion, while it was necessary to carry on talented bloodlines, parenting weakened the resolve by increasing the tendency to feel empathy, thereby increasing the amount of effort one had to expend to keep it submerged.
The Lady was a master at suppressing her affections. She was always very fond of Iruka-sensei, as were so many people, back before his life changed. Back when that very fondness moved Ibiki to disgust, a lack of self-control that he blamed for the development of his unfortunate blind spot when Iruka's talents were concerned.
Water under the bridge. He nodded, and snuffed any regret over the sentence they were pronouncing. The damage had been done by Danzou already; they were merely picking through the rubble for anything of value that might be gleaned.
It was just a bit disturbing that, but for the next step, Iruka looked and behaved remarkably like someone who would be all right, if perhaps a little emotionally unstabile, if they would just leave well enough alone.
"And if we end up with a damaged Even, and not a damaged Iruka?" Inoichi pressed, greatly dissatisfied.
Tsunade shook her head.
"Let's not beg trouble. I don't want to think of the harm to morale if it were to become known that he might be confined in the high-security prison or mental institution for life."
"In that scenario...maybe the preservation efforts would not be the best use of our limited abilities," Ibiki said pointedly.
For the first time, it seemed he had out-done her lofty rationality. She seemed genuinely startled that he would suggest it.
"You mean, terminate him?"
"That's...not how I would put it. These are extreme measures we're exercising. Delicate, and difficult. If it's Even we're left with...what is actually there to salvage? Once we've lost Iruka without releasing Danzou's influence – and I'm not saying we will, but if we do lose him – our man is essentially terminated anyway. I'm merely saying that if we find ourselves at that point, it wouldn't make sense to continue to spend energy on preservation. Simply focus on extracting the information. Yes, it's likely that without the life support, he will not survive it – but it's not the same as taking what we want and then chopping his head off. As I see it, Lady, if we fail, it's no greater sin to fail and release him from this world, than it is to pick him apart by inches and leave his tortured soul to rot for years in prison."
"I take exception to this whole line of thought. Even is also Iruka. He did not spawn from thin air. And if we are left with something that is more Even that Iruka, that person still may live and experience some of the benefits of life despite the situation. People change. I wouldn't just warehouse him and call it good. We would of course attempt rehabilitation, albeit in prison or the psych ward if need be. So, no. I don't plan to completely abandon preservation at any point. Just reduce the emphasis of it. So far, we've been blocking our own efforts by being too cautious. We'll have to be willing to accept damage where it is unavoidable. But that's not the same as giving up on coming out of this with a living, breathing person. We will do all that we can to avoid setting off a fail-safe, accepting that in the end, it could happen anyway."
Ibiki stared back, without insolence. By pushing her, he now had a much better idea of the boundaries she wanted him to follow. He also cemented his reputation, again, as the cruelest man on the side of law and justice in the village.
And he didn't have to reveal that he was satisfied with her answer, far more that he would have been had she agreed.
Inoichi held up a finger, shaking his head. They behaved as if he were not there. He wasn't finished and they were too impatient to listen. But this was a critical time for listening.
"There's no need to go to such extremes yet. I still need your full support in this phase first."
"But no point in waiting to contemplate all of the variables," Ibiki responded, hoping his test of Tsunade hadn't thrown their best player off his game. "Given the odds here."
"It's all well and good to be prepared," Inoichi said. "But I think for now, we need concentrate on the action before us."
The time for talk was over. A team of three, they moved in solemn silence to surround their objective.