Chapter 33
Kakashi gazed down at Iruka's bag, zipped and waiting at the entry, and hesitated. Iruka seemed to be all right, more or less, to any outside observer. But Kakashi's reports, while thorough, contained only the facts; he wished now that he'd gone further and described his suspicion that there was still a lot of uphill, unpredictable battle ahead in Iruka's psychological recovery. His personal conviction was that, be it due to ego or embarrassment or even lack of self-awareness, no one was being allowed to see the true nature and scope of the struggle still raging behind those quiet, haunted dark eyes. Hell, they'd only had a few weeks, and all during that time they'd been busy working more on rebuilding his mission-worthiness physically while searching for muscle memory triggers; nothing that would pass as any kind of therapy for his emotional damage. No one, including the subject, could be certain that they'd even identified all of those issues yet. Termination of this assignment was premature, at best.
It was too late to change his report now. Tsunade would probably think he was just trying to avoid ending his assignment for personal reasons and refuse to allow it.
The only other angle that might work would be to get Iruka to admit that he wasn't ready. But given his heavy weight of guilt and responsibility where Shiranui was concerned, it would take a lot of talking to even begin to convince him to speak up. There really wasn't enough time to attempt such an important conversation; his argument would have to focus on Iruka's weaknesses and uncertainties, and if he didn't succeed in getting him to agree to be pulled back into supervisory custody, it would just serve to undermine his fledgling confidence and make tackling his assignment that much more difficult.
The ornate mantle clock, so patient and plodding over the last few weeks, had found its second wind. The final minutes of their time together began to pinch painfully between the long and short hands of his father's distinguished heirloom. It wasn't the device's fault that the swing of its shiny pendulum swept away those precious seconds, but Kakashi held it somewhat responsible for this hollow feeling anyway.
"The timing is disappointing. But nothing says you can't come back here when your assignment is complete. You're welcome to stay here anytime."
"Look, I have no right to complain about this assignment. Especially when..." Iruka's head lowered as he grimaced.
Kakashi gripped his upper arm with gentle pressure.
"It isn't your fault. There isn't anything you could have done differently that we know without a doubt would have been better for him. The only thing we know for a fact is that if you hadn't stretched the rules to get him to safety, he would have died on the spot. You saved him, Iruka."
"He doesn't look very saved to me."
"You saved his life. That's all you could have done. There isn't anyone who could have saved him from paying the price for misjudging his opponents. We all take that risk, every mission, every day. Believe me, he knows that. He's a practical man and he's dealing with the fallout as best he knows how."
Iruka gave a guarded shrug and nodded. Kakashi's opinion felt too generous, to quick to set aside his guilt and replace it with rationalization. Despite the sensation of his heart rattling in his chest in near panic, he didn't want coddling or sympathy. He wasn't sure what he wanted; while it hurt deeply to have that warm, firm hand steadying him, knowing that in just minutes it would be out of reach for so long, it was also profoundly comforting at the same time. Leaving was much more conflicting than staying ever had been, and that was saying a lot. He had to clear his mind somehow. His assignment had to take priority now.
"Don't disregard the significance of his request. He asked for you specifically. Having you there is going to be a great comfort for him. I don't know if you realize how much he's always liked you. And you're not deceiving him. He knows as well as I do what put him in this position. It was his slip-up in getting caught after taking down his target. It was the enemy that poisoned and tortured him. The effort he made to escape intensified the toxins. All those things took place before you came on the scene. There's no telling if he'd really have been any better off even if you took him straight back to the village when you found him. So if you're wondering if you should tell him about your involvement despite the gag order – I'd say that telling him would be a mistake in more ways than one."
Iruka nodded, a little more thoughtful than grim now. Kakashi released him with firm, encouraging rub and pat to his slightly less stiff shoulder. Maybe he would be all right. He seemed steady enough.
"I'll do my best," Iruka said, taking a deep breath, far too aware of that parting touch.
"My mission seems pretty cut-and-dried. I'll be back in a few of days, a week at most. You need anything at all when I get back, let me know. I imagine that your job won't be easy. You shouldn't hesitate to ask for help if you need it, or even if you're not sure. You're still recovering. You need to watch out for your own health, too."
"I'll be all right. I'm sure that he has to sleep a lot. I was thinking I would practice those katas you taught me when he's resting. Work on my balance and coordination. Stuff like that," Iruka said, finally shifting his focus successfully to the task ahead.
"Oh..." Kakashi paused, thinking fast, because that was truly a bad idea for reasons he wasn't free to explain. "About that. Hold up."
He zipped out of the room and reappeared with a small, well-worn book, much smaller than his usual reading material. It would be bad if Danzou's old exercises suddenly decided they would trigger old memories after all; at least, it would be while he was alone with Genma and unsupervised. This would be better. He truly did swear by the collection of routines he was recommending.
"Don't do any of the activities we worked on while you were here. I'm serious. They were very specific to our instructions but they're not the right ones for you to use going forward. Here. Use the routines in this book and I guarantee you'll be a lot happier with the results."
Iruka examined the dark olive cover and nodded. It was similar to old field manuals on dozens of subjects he'd seen in the archive library in the past. His first glimpse of the inside cover caught him by surprise; he blushed when he saw the writing.
"Kakashi, you can't really mean to give me this. Did this really belong to your father?"
"First of all, it's mine; it was passed on to me while he was still alive. My father was all about the fundamentals; he was a true believer in the exercises in that manual. He started me out on the basic section as soon as I could walk. I still do all of the advanced ones regularly. Second, I'm just loaning it to you. I'm not worried that you'll lose it. "
"But what if something does happen to it? I'd feel awful."
"Well, let me take care of that, then."
Kakashi took back the book and made several hand signs over it. He smiled and handed it back.
"Now you have nothing to worry about. I have protected the pages and I've tagged it so that I can find it even if you lose it." He smiled to himself inwardly as well. Not only would he be able to find the book if it was lost, he would be able to find Iruka so long as the book went with him.
The dark-eyed nin smiled with a slightly embarrassed, pink tinge to his cheeks.
"Thank you. This is a very thoughtful gesture. I'm going to miss you and this place. It was a rough start, but I kind of got used to being here."
"Its okay. We'll see each other again soon. And, hey - if we have to be apart for a while, it helps that we're pretty much on the same page now."
"I don't think we've ever been in this good of a place before."
The clock caught their attention at the same time; Kakashi wanted nothing more than to keep talking and make the world move on along without them; but duty called, so he merely nodded in agreement.
"I guess this is it," Iruka said, reaching for his bags and finding the heavier one already in his host's hand.
"I can walk you. I'm sure it would be fine."
"You're supposed to leave as soon as you're ready. If Lady Tsunade gets one look at you making a side trip first she's going to be pissed." He held out his hand, a sting of deja-vu in his eyes. There was a time when this would have been a welcome excuse to escape this man's company; now, he was only stating the unfortunate truth. He would have greatly preferred to extend their time with that walk.
"I guess you're right. I don't want to get her all riled up and then leave you to take the brunt of it." He handed over the bag and watched everything get juggled into the right position for walking. That sort of addressed the question in his head as to what form their physical goodbye should take. Iruka would have a hand free for a shake. But so laden, any further body contact was no longer a reasonable option. It was probably an unconscious decision born of jittery nerves; but it was a decision. There was little else to do but respect it.
"Thanks, Kakashi. I mean it. It was a lot to ask of you. I was a royal pain in the ass half the time. I'll make it up to you."
"Just don't be a stranger."
"Idiot. Like I'd do that."
The older nin chuckled and held out a hand.
With that, it looked like Iruka just realized he'd put himself in the handshake zone and didn't know what he wanted to do about it.
"It's all right, Iruka. Let's concentrate on taking care of business for now. We're just on hold; I'd just as soon not even say goodbye."
"Yeah. I like that better, too."
They shook hands and the clock clucked at them sharply, hitting the hour.
Kakashi held the door open and Iruka made his way out, glancing back over his laden shoulder with a final smile of appreciation.
The door creaked as it fell shut, drowned out by the dutiful clomp of boots making their way across the wooden porch and down the steps leading to the gate.
xxxxxxx
"Finally! We got company." Raidou dodged right and ran straight up into the thickest foliage of the trees; Kakashi split off in the opposite direction and moved parallel, watching the path below.
Three figures grew closer, moving on foot along the well-worn path. Despite the heavy, hooded robes, Kakashi determined instantly that they were all women. They bore a heavy protection jutsu; this close to the township, they probably thought that with help was so near, that sort of safeguard would be sufficient. Clearly, they were not overly concerned.
That was most likely the same error in judgment that resulted in the subject of their mission getting abducted. Kakashi was starting to resent these careless folk. The magistrates might be paying handsomely for Konoha's services, but they had been combing the area and scouring the local hideouts for days upon days without any luck. The two-to-three day mission was going on two weeks now.
Raidou was another problem; maybe even the problem. He was distracted, which was dangerous enough – but he was also struggling with emotional wreckage over Genma's situation, and the very real possibility that he was wasting the opportunity to share some of the last days his friend might have left. He was overtly upset and angry to an unprecedented degree, two things Kakashi had never even seen hints of in the gravely scarred nin's previous job performance.
Kakashi had his own impatience under control – not that it was easy. He was able to paint on the proper face, but his thoughts did keep straying.
Straying to Iruka's face, so shocked and deeply moved at seeing his father's name in that manual.
There was no time to complete the explanation, and besides, his very genuine intent was to share the book's training techniques as replacement for those potentially toxic Danzou-inspired katas, not to make points and plant a tracking object. It just kind of turned out that way.
And even if something happened to the book, his library still held the exact same title, a version many years older, that his father had given him as a toddler, so that even at that tender age he might take in the line drawings of the positions and learn to imitate and remember. It had been his father's since he was small, and the first childish characters dashed in huge strokes inside that cover were Sakumo's. Over time, newer notes grew into the mature, regimented marks of an adult, until Kakashi's own childish handwriting took over. And the black inked picture of a dog, a sketch he'd done earnestly thinking this was the best place to save it, had been a source of confounding feelings. His father scolded him for doodling in an official book; but he'd also looked at the picture critically, deeming it well-crafted and a very good representation, and calmly discussed what kind of dog-summon he was hoping for.
But later, after his downfall for mission fail, the White Fang snatched away the familiar, time-worn manual, slamming it into the trash and thrusting his current copy into Kakashi's gloved hand. Use this one, he'd said, no light in his eyes. Treat equipment properly and do not deface it. Hide the old one away, let no one else see that it had been spoiled with drawings and unnecessary writing. Follow the rules. Be mindful of your reputation.
Kakashi remember how bad he felt sneaking into the garbage to retrieve his old book, as if he were taking this book away from his father, too. He offered to replaced it with a new one. His father said he no longer had any need of it. The tone of his voice and the look in his eye foreshadowed his impending demise, the decision apparently already made.
As a mere child, Kakashi felt deep regret that he was to blame for that look, coming to the conclusion his shortcomings were the cause of it. He certainly had no clue what his father was planning. He agonized to this day over his blindness; if only he had been more perceptive, asked more questions – his father may have been dropping hints as a subconscious cry for help. Back then, his old man wouldn't have had the benefit of counseling and the rigorous mental health review processes.
Kakashi was certain that Sakumo would have been dissuaded, that his decision was tainted with depression and excessive shame; a clear mind could not logically conclude that death was the sole path to restore his honor and good name, that his life was equitable payment for breaking the rules.
He hadn't even considered it before, but if they had the same process then as now, he was almost certain that the sole parent of a such a young child would never be granted permission for the rites. He couldn't instantly get his mind around that, how his father's life might have gone had Kakashi been the sticking point that prevented him from taking the 'honorable way out'.
It was the newer book he'd loaned to Iruka. It was still his old man's book, still a secondhand possession that had personal history. But it wasn't at all the kind of memento Iruka was thinking it was. It wasn't the very old one he'd salvaged and cleaned and hidden; and then years later wrapped in tissue, sealed in a sturdy box and stored safely up on top of the bookcase.
Just a training manual tossed aside from the hands of a ninja who was essentially dead already. Not even as precious as an inheritance.
He'd have to explain about all that, someday. Maybe. Maybe when he had a better handle on how to explain it to himself.
He shook lose of his musings to concentrate on locking in the direction of travel of his errant teammate.
Raidou was making the same irritating mistakes he'd been making all mission, signaling and moving without waiting, trying to hurry up and end this thing on his own. Kakashi had great sympathy for him but no tolerance nor forgiveness; there was no doubt in his mind that one of them would end up paying a high price if he didn't straighten up. He'd been progressively more direct in correcting and reprimanding him each time; and as lead, his patience was now at its end.
He caught up with the frustrated jounin, who had stopped just shy of revealing his presence to the group in the clearing.
"He's not with them, either. Damn it!"
Kakashi took him by the arm and jerked him back hard, pinning him with a deadly serious glare.
"Last chance. Pull this shit again and I'll write you up for all of it. And you'll spend a month in the lock-up at minimum. I don't think you have that kind of time to waste sitting in confinement."
"Fuck. I'm sorry, all right? I was so sure we finally found them..."
"If you found them that would be even more reason not to break rank. We need to do this right, not just get it out of the way. We've spend too much time on this to blow it in the home stretch." Kakashi didn't see that his words were making any impact on the look in Raidou's eyes. They were bright with a panic that was deep and unrelenting, and he did understand it. All the threats in the world wouldn't be likely to help.
The life of his best friend was riding on thin hope; he was helpless to do anything to stop it while they were stuck here indefinitely. Genma might have already come to his decision; if things moved quickly in the worst possible direction, these could be the ever dwindling final hours of his life, and the opportunity to see him again was sifting away. It was unbearable to think of those irreplaceable moments disappearing altogether before he could return. But knowing Genma, he might do that on purpose. He might think he was sparing others by rushing ahead and closing the door while everyone was still out.
Kakashi swallowed hard when he considered how well he would be doing in the same situation. If it were Iruka measuring such grave options with someone else by his side back home. If he were poised to disappear without a chance to say goodbye.
Maybe they had all finally reached their limit of pretending that being immersed in death numbed them to it. The lives of precious people mattered; ultimately, it was a lie to soldier on as if ending them was just another aspect of business as usual.
He reached out and touched three fingers to Raidou's left arm, raising the other hand in front of his face to seal his lips against any sound. This action would be quite painful, physically.
"Look there," Kakashi broke the long silence, drawling in a bored whisper. "The enemy must have spotted you. Looks like they hit you with a paralyzing jutsu. That arm will be useless for a couple of days at least. You'd better head back and get that treated."
"You..." Raidou gasped and bowed his head, tearing up from the brief, intense pain, struggling to stop the scant drops from falling before they turned into something more. "I'm going to owe you forever."
"Just check on Iruka, too, okay? That's all I ask. Do that and we're even."
"You're such a fucking alpha male," Raidou managed to joke as the breathlessness from the pain eased a bit.
"Somebody has to be. Now go, hurry, while the path is clear, and stay completely out of sight. I'd hate to find you in bite-sized bits because they caught you with that arm out of commission."
"Be careful. Should I send out a replacement?"
"Somehow, I think this will be easier solo. It should have been a one-man assignment from the get-go. This was as much to get the two of us out of town as it was to fulfill the mission contract."
"I suspected that, too."
Kakashi gave him a shove, turning to head away. He knew Raidou needed no further urging, so he resumed full focus on the mission. Without the added burden of keeping his partner from self-destructing, he had several promising approaches that he was anxious to try. The tension and mistakes were as much to blame as the elusiveness of their target in stretching this out far too long. He had to tamp down a little spark of anger at his fellow jounin. They could have been finished and back home days ago. He probably should have cold-cocked him, finished up the job and gathered him up on the way home instead of reprimanding him the second time.
Or the third.
Or the fourth.
He sure was getting soft these days.
xxxxxxxxxx
Genma was on his knees, panting, trying to collect himself after losing his balance again. He was pushing himself harder, no longer stopping when his efforts hit repeated failure, persisting so long as his stamina held out. He wasn't alone, of course, but he made it clear that he didn't want help until he asked for it.
In the midst of hovering at the ready, sharing in the frustration of yet another painfully futile effort, a surge of inappropriate feelings cut through Iruka like a knife.
Anger and disdain flared up in his chest, paired with a dash of superiority, as if the man bent and struggling below him somehow deserved this fate for making mistakes and being a lesser talent. He wrestled against it in confusion and disbelief, before he tapped the shaking shoulder to signal his retreat and fled to the bathroom, pawing at the light and gaping in the mirror.
His face was fine. Both sides moved without any noticeable difference. But whether it showed physically, the shocking truth was that the strongest pulse of Even's core ever had just reared his long-silent, ugly head.
Was this how his other personality would have felt? How could anyone stand over Genma, in his suffering and humiliation, and dare to even think such a thing!
There was no trace of that feeling now. He was relieved that it passed so quickly; it seemed that he was overreacting. Another little bubble rising to the surface only to break and dissipate. They were extremely rare. And other than his own distress, they had been harmless; too short in duration to influence his actions. The only evidence that anything had happened at all was his reaction.
A crash in the next room sent him dashing back. Gen had toppled a side table trying to rise, because his so-called helper was not there.
He didn't wait for permission this time and lifted the floundering man up, moving him to a futon laid out on the floor, patting him frantically in apology.
"Not...your...fault," Gen managed in a rasping whisper before pounding his fist into the floor.
His own home, long his private sanctuary, the only place he would ever trust to drop the facade of his career and face his demons over the lives he took on a daily basis – this place was no longer familiar. It tripped him, confused him, refused to allow the pattern of the rooms and their contents to develop in his head as he tried to feel his way around. He tried and he tried and he tried to the point of collapse but there didn't seem to be any way to compensate for all that was wrong with him. If he were merely deprived of sight and sound, he was sure he could have coped. But the neurological problems denied his every effort to find ways to make up for the loss. He moved without stability, his sense of touch lied, and the pain blinded him when he tried to concentrate too hard.
So here he was, face down, fallen again, useless again...if not for Iruka's kindly, careful hands, rubbing his back, some how intuitively knowing just the right amount of pressure to use to provide comfort, and ease his muscle stress, without aggravating the intense pain of his condition – he would be falling apart right here on the spot.
"Easy, Genma, I'm sorry I ran off. I...had to use the bathroom," Iruka explained, loudly and lamely. "Try to calm down, okay?"
"This is..." Gen groaned and gave up, pressing his forehead to the soft surface. It's just wasting time, putting off the inevitable. The only thing that felt even remotely tolerable this whole time was Iruka's kindly care. The ridiculous shit this poor guy had to tolerate, helping a grown man take care of every damned facet of life; dressing, communicating, eating, bathing, shitting, walking, and everything in between. Yet here he sat on the hard floor, rubbing the back of a hopeless invalid one more time, just to make him feel better.
Iruka was a strange and wonderful guy. Genma vaguely sensed he was having problems of his own, but he had no way to communicate with him about it. He couldn't even express his own thoughts most of the time. He was that useless now.
He stiffened when the sensation of warmth and pressure increased; the embrace was meant to make him feel better, given purely out of caring and sympathy. On the verge of being touched by the heartfelt gesture, he nearly opened up to it, to try and accept the kindness that sought to ease his hopelessness.
When he realized how hellish that comfort truly was, he twisted as hard as he could manage without toppling them both, his body speaking volumes by harshly throwing off the well-meaning hug. If he softened now, if he fell into the offers of comfort and care...he would be trapped in a life of pain and humiliation on the false premise of those moments. Much as he hated to disappoint and upset the people he cared about, existing for the sole purpose of saving them grief was his worst possible option. Over time, it would be far more painful for everyone concerned.
It was time to give up this fruitless effort and go. The demands of the ritualistic act he now opted for seemed so astronomical in his condition, he wasn't sure if he could accomplish it. But it truly was the only goal he could conceive of working towards now, and it was of no consequence if he had to use up the last of his body's few remaining obedient moments trying.
"Help...me..." he managed, and drew in another difficult, painful breath to keep talking. "I've decided...I want...to apply...for the rites."
Iruka gasped and swallowed hard, rebounding from the rejection to resume rubbing Genma's back a little more vigorously, as if that extra effort would somehow change the senbon-nin's mind. His head shook in the negative, and his eyes stung, as the voice in the back of his head flamed him for such weakness, adding a back beat of shame to his regret and sadness.
"I'm sure...'bout this...'ruka...so please...support me."
"All right," Iruka managed, his voice firm, loud and clear and somehow free of the heartbreak he felt. It sounded far more unemotional and composed than it should have been; the impression flashed into his head that it was Even's voice. Simultaneously dismissing the thought as ridiculous and holding his breath at the very idea, he silenced himself, worried that if the voice could take over, the words might be next. He would tear out his tongue before he would allow Even's specter to say anything that would make Genma feel any worse than he already did.
Genma nodded, and the expression on his agonized face changed just a bit, infusing with determination and what seemed to be relief. He waved a hand, to motion Iruka away, to keep the momentum going to make sure that he moved forward to the next step.
Iruka rose, every muscle objecting, to follow through. He could not deny that he did not want to do it. He had to focus and fight down his knee-jerk reactions, the plots and excuses and wild ideas competing to lead him astray from his duty. In the silence of Genma's home, the cacophony of guilt and regret was so overwhelming it seemed as if his head would burst open. But he did as he was asked, out of dedication and respect for his friend's right to make his own decision. Released, the small gray dove sailed swiftly into the sky, carrying the message to Tsunade that Genma had become resolute in taking this path.
The necessary actions would commence when the Hokage received the message. To lessen the cruel struggle, a telepath would be dispatched to confirm and transcribe Genma's wishes, and to assist him in preparing the proposal and the request. Iruka was not sure if that meant he would be dismissed from this duty, or if he would be asked to see it through to the end.
But Iruka included something extra with the winged messenger. As a precaution, because it wouldn't do to put Genma at additional risk no matter how slight the chance, he requested for an examination for himself, admitting to feeling worried about feeling the shadow of the presence within him that they all had decided was lost.
The slip of white paper rolled with the pale peach colored notice of Shiranui's decision caught her eye immediately. There had been no way of knowing how long this decision would be in coming. As difficult as it was to wait, she entertained no notion of hurrying the process or setting any deadline. She wasn't sure if this seemed too soon to her; it was important to be sure that Genma had deliberated to the best of his ability. Perhaps Iruka felt compelled to add some further explanation.
The notice was check-marked with the choice she had been fairly certain he would make; it was disheartening but fully expected. But upon reading the note that came with it, she stiffened up in surprise.
I would like to request an examination. I have just experienced some sort of flashback or disturbance that I cannot easily explain. I am concerned that it may interfere with my ability to safely care for Shiranui-san.
Tsunade frowned in concentration. The pressure, perhaps. Or beyond that, she had wondered whether housing Umino with Kakashi might have resulted in subduing his Even side because of the emotional involvement the two of them had. Emotions would not likely draw forth the Root persona, and if they had actually been oppressing, the timing here might make sense. She noted Iruka's distress and unsteadiness when he first started on this task; but the last time she made a welfare check on the two of them, despite Genma's lack of improvement, Iruka seemed much more solid and focused. Getting a firm hold on his emotions might well create the environment, finally, that would coax the last of Even out to face them.
Well. It had been a slow day. Good thing she hadn't given in to temptation and slipped away for a sake break.
With that revelation, Tsunade sent a scribe with telepathic ability and a psychiatric technician to start on Genma's request; as for Iruka, she ordered him removed at once, to be returned to his home under restriction with the ANBU stationed nearby. Raidou, fervent volunteer, had been on standby healing from injury and anxiously awaiting his turn to stay with his life-long mission partner. She was certain he would respond to her call and join Genma to take over his care immediately, so all the bases could be covered contiguously.
It wouldn't take but a moment for Iruka to be removed, she mused, noting that Ibiki always had one or two men observing him and still went to oversee the setup himself from time to time. Kakashi would likely be annoyed that all this took place without his knowledge or involvement after he spent those weeks being so good and doing just as he was told. She had kind of implied that he was going to be involved ongoing.
Ah, well. It was always good for Kakashi to get out and feed his need. He might get too soft, hanging about mooning over fallen comrades. He was weeks overdue. She'd meant for the mission to run long, but not this long. The last message from him indicated that he finally had success and would be back in a day or so anyway. That would probably put him here in just a few hours.
She grabbed up her bag and set out to snag Ibiki and Inoichi. They had house calls to make.
xxxx
Iruka stood at the stone, taking in the familiar quiet and the eternal ache this place evoked in his heart. He placed one hand on the cold marble, and let the other press hard over his chest, just as he had always done since the Third's rebuke to stop mourning here so selfishly.
It felt just the same. He kind of hoped that, with all of the other changes, some subtle, some startling, since his old Academy days, this would be one of them. That he would have more strength and less vulnerability over something so far in the past it should have been nearly forgotten.
But, no. The pressure of his hand on his chest, reminding him firmly that he could not cry or allow an expression of equal sorrow in its place, was still a necessary reminder to insure his proper behavior. So, as he had since his youth, he stood motionless and waited, paying his respects with a solemn expression and the weight of his sadness, letting the length of the visit be determined by the severity of the pain. When it began to dull, only then would he feel it was all right to straighten up and move on. As always, his attempt to bring his current problems to share with his departed family went nowhere. The feeling here was never welcoming or forgiving. The pain of guilt and abandonment served as his penance, and he would never be able to pay enough of it for the atmosphere at the memorial to be otherwise.
The stress of returning to his own home had been far greater than he would have imagined. The weight of Genma's decision was heavy and painful; his role in it still sent him up and down, stunning him with poignant moments he would never forget, slashing him with regrets where he could have done better, should done something else, or just flat screwed up. Confined in solitude, there were hours upon hours to hash and re-hash every little aspect of his actions. It was impossible to know how much responsibility he bore for this tragic resolution. The only sure thing was that on a day in the near future yet to be determined, there would be a new name here, transferred from his list of friends to his list of the forever lost.
Being on what was essentially house arrest didn't help matters any. It was difficult to settle in; it felt cold and strange instead of like the warm and familiar sanctuary it once was after a long day of teaching, grading papers and assigning missions. Kakashi's presence used to occupy the space like a living being, haunting every room with memories both good and bad; but the triggers for those memories had been disarmed somehow, as if that part of his past had packed up and left him.
Moving through the village proper alone was similarly unsettling. Once upon a time, he could barely get his errands finished due to the constant interruption of friendly acquaintances who wanted to catch his ear for a minute or two; he knew everyone, and it seemed that everyone he knew couldn't resist starting up a conversation once they caught sight of him. His years working at the Academy were all like that.
After Jeninki inflicted his fateful injury, the shock and heartache were amplified by the fact that these very same people were the ones who shunned him the quickest.
Now, back among them after so very much water had gone under the bridge, they were as uncomfortable and uncertain as he was. Some looked like they might approach him eventually; he figured they were adopting a wait-and-see policy. Others flat turned away, pretending they hadn't noticed him, just as they had when he wore the mask. He made a point of breaking the ice, making small talk when he exchanged money with the shopkeepers; it was a small thing, but better than nothing, to start getting the ball rolling. He tried to see it as a positive. Somehow, he didn't feel the vulnerability that he had before; it took more than this to hurt him much. Didn't that mean that he was a bigger man than he was back then? Didn't it imply that he had grown tougher and stronger emotionally? He had only been getting out for a few days, and already he could detect tiny increments of progress; it was better to concentrate on that, and avoid focusing on the landslide of setbacks.
If only he could stop his heart from pounding out of his chest when he got near the path that lead out from the bustling market in the direction of Danzou's place. Gazing at the dark, polished stone, he conceded that it would probably be a long time before he had all this back under control.
Kakashi lurked, high in a tree, watching after bending the rules to follow his former charge to this place. He was supposed to steer clear and avoid contact; they said he could make an appointment to have a supervised meeting at Iruka's apartment, and he did intend to do that, soon, even though he didn't like it. They'd met by chance at the Hokage tower, and once again when he'd been allowed to return the few forgotten personal effects left behind at his estate. But always with the prying eyes, and the interruptions, and then that awful, awkward silence, because what was there to say that was so urgent that they had to talk about it under supervision? The pathetic bit of small talk they managed to exchange was painfully frustrating. They needed privacy and time and patience. Until then, as much as he wanted to see Iruka, he just couldn't muster the energy to go have another awkward, unrewarding encounter.
Spying on him here was awkward and unrewarding in many ways as well. He had shadowed this trip hundreds of times, back in the day, simply for the satisfaction of keeping tabs on his object of interest. But now, having seen into Iruka's mind, this ritual was far sadder to witness, and it was not something he wanted to linger over and scrutinize to the end anymore. This was Iruka 101 anyway, basic behavior, with a tried and true predictable pattern. When the man decided that he was ready, he would avoid talking to anyone and return directly to his home, to rest a bit in a closed, darkened room, as was his usual practice in his past life.
The copy-nin moved on, heading back to his own home, not pleased but not worried, either. Iruka was still behaving in all his normal ways, despite the reports of the inner voices that were still popping up from time to time. Old patterns from pre-Root days were positive indicators as far as Kakashi was concerned.
The ANBU must not be shadowing him constantly, because Kakashi checked and found no trace of them nearby. Good; although today was a bust, Kakashi could 'coincidentally' show up again during one of the next one-hour periods when Iruka was permitted to leave his residence to get his own supplies and move freely within the village boundaries. They'd be able to touch base without all the intrusive supervision. For now he would respect the personal nature of the time at the stone. These fledgling moments of long-lost autonomy and privacy probably prompted him to make this trip; Kakashi did not want to intrude, detected or not.
xxxx
The rustle of leaves under lightly treading feet alerted Iruka and pulled him out of his statue-like trance.
"Oh, sorry. I hate to interrupt," the young man said, continuing his approach. "But I noticed you here and I've been wanting to see how you're doing."
Iruka nodded vaguely, then shook his head, searching the shifting sand of his memory for this face. He looked a little on the young side to be a contemporary; perhaps a former student?
"I don't seem to remember you, but...I've been a little under the weather lately. You do sound familiar."
The young man's smile brightened, with a smile so incredibly handsome and compelling that Iruka felt a touch of shame that he did not recall ever seeing it before. Those eyes sparkled with youthful energy.
"We had a mission together, a few years ago! You don't remember me at all? Senpai, you were my lead!"
Iruka gave a cringing smile, confused and embarrassed, not thinking very quickly at all.
"I'm afraid I don't..."
"We worked together, and our teamwork went so well! The mission was tough but we pulled it off. We traveled a very long way, just us two!"
"You'll have to excuse me. I've had some problems with my memory, and I really don't have any idea what you're talking about."
"Oh. That's really sad, senpai. I've thought of you a lot since that mission. I even asked to partner with you again, but right after we returned they took your name off the roster for teams. Said you went solo, no exceptions. I guess I should just be thankful that I managed to have that one chance to see you in action. Then you kind of... disappeared."
Iruka swallowed, feeling bad for disappointing this young man both in the past and in the present, so he changed the subject.
"Are you here to pay your respects?"
"No, actually, I was looking for some help when I realized it was you." He had to think fast, because up until now, it was easy to trick the confused man. Now Jeninki had to cook up a way to get Iruka to follow him without getting suspicious.
"Help? With what?" Iruka asked brightly, leaning towards helping this friendly, pleasant fellow as a way to make up for his embarrassing lack of memory.
Fuck it, Jeninki thought, and spun up the Uzingan fast and hard to stun his prey into silent obedience.
"Come with me. Now!"
He grabbed Iruka's unresisting hand and yanked him away at a dead run into the heavily forested area beyond the memorial.
Once under cover and out of sight, he wrapped both hands around the slim waist and transported them away.
The were standing in Danzou's training room before he realized this move was not only inexcusably impulsive, it was also somewhat foolish. He pulled Iruka's protector over his eyes and sat him on the table, trying to decide how best to go forward before releasing him from suspended animation.
The door banged open, and Danzou's crouching, battle-ready figure paused as he identified the intruders before rising up to full furious height at the sight before him.
"It's...you can't be serious! What the hell are you thinking?"
"Wait. Wait..."
"Wait? For what? You didn't do this without some plan. Did you?"
"Just wait. I'm thinking. I..."
"You idiot! This has got to be the most-watched individual in the village right now! The scarecrow is his shadow day and night, and the ANBU keep tabs on him constantly, and that's just for starters!"
"Just shut up! I couldn't get close to him before, and I had this opportunity, I couldn't let it get away! I need his decision, Danzou!"
"There isn't any decision any more, you lunatic! I told you, he's been re-assimilated. He won't go with either one of us now, given a choice. Trust me! Don't even ask him for his decision, use the Uzingan and go in and look for yourself. Then delete those memories and dump him off a cliff or something! Pick up his soul on the first bounce and get your ass out of here before you take us both down!"
"Calm down, okay?"
"You're going insane again, aren't you? That has to be it. There's something wrong with your new body. You're losing it, you've got to be, to do something so foolish and risk everything for this!"
"I said calm down! Okay, I admit, this was a bad impulse, and I shouldn't have given in to it...but it'll be all right."
"Get out and take him with you now!"
"Just...I will, in a minute. I need to finish this first."
"No! Get..."
"Shut up! I'll handle it! Just make sure your barrier is still blocking our presence!"
"My barrier is working fine. My barrier is not the problem. You'd better come up with a damned good plan, and fast."
All the arguing made it difficult to think creatively. The Root leader's tirade loomed so big in his mind that it was fruitless to try and set it aside. Jeninki gave in to the pressure of time; it would be a huge mistake to have the village go on alert before he moved Iruka out of Danzou's chamber.
He lifted the hitai-ate and stared into Iruka's blank brown orbs, spinning up his technique again to follow Danzou's heavy-handed suggestion. He was an artist at gentle invasion, shaping thoughts and creating moods with subtle stimulation, massaging mindsets and tickling abstract loyalties and affections until they swelled into shape and grew firm, until they were primed and longing to give whatever he would ask if only he would take them. It was fun. It was challenging. It kind of spurred his licentious interest. In contrast, he greatly disliked the cold, thuggish breaking-and-entering skills this sort of snap inspection required.
His first impression matched what he had witnessed at the Memorial. The recovery was remarkable. Iruka was whole again for the most part. His pain and loneliness were sweetly familiar; but the rage and rebellious streak seemed to be all but gone. He had become accepting of his place here, bearing it with maturity and a sobering acknowledgment of his imperfect reality. He was still healing; there were dark patches of damage that could not be looked into, but there was no denying how much he had grown.
Iruka was making the effort to try and become comfortable with his people again, but most remarkably, he had found someone he was determined to relate to and rely upon. Someone who had risked his own life on Iruka's behalf, on more than one occasion.
If Iruka had held that sort of bond when Jeninki first met him, it would have been difficult if not impossible to sway him into joining him and leaving the village, short of total genjutsu-enforced brainwashing.
This revelation changed everything, and not in the way Danzou implied. Perhaps he had misjudged the potential for this vile little village to produce more than one quality individual.
It seemed that he needed to spend just a little more time observing them. He was curious, now, too, about the tremendous guilt and sadness that Iruka felt for the comrade he had been trying to help. Now that he had more details, it seemed that he was also to blame for that unfortunate turn of events, since it was this body Iruka was hunting for when the incident occurred.
Well, some things were within his power to fix, and some weren't. At least he was beginning to grasp that concept, though it irritated his ego fiercely.
He backed out, erasing the memory of his invasion, and of Iruka's interaction with his henge as a young shinobi, and maintained the suspended animation to prevent him seeing or hearing anything he shouldn't until he was released from it.
"So?"
"It is as you said."
"What will you do with him?"
"I'll render him unconscious and drop him in the rough near the memorial. There's no point in keeping him. It seems he's finally managed to find his place here."
"So you admit that I was right."
Jeninki nodded, gathering up his lost prize for what might be the last time, and flashing away.
"Why doesn't he ever fucking believe me to begin with? I'm always right," Danzou said to the empty room, hands flung in the air, shaking his head with an aggravated sigh.