Leaves in the Wind

Chapter Twenty-Two: Deception

Morning came in the form of irritatingly bright rays through Iruka's curtains. Kakashi twitched, cracking a glimmering crimson eye to the dawn. The second, grey eye joined it and then they both closed. He shifted, drawing his arm to his side, and that's when his hand brushed across tender, bare skin. The Jounin paused, opening his eyes once more to see another body, Iruka to be exact, curled up with him. The Chuunin's head was curled towards him on the pillow, and his legs were intertwined with Kakashi's.

The Jounin's unusually groggy mind was puzzled by this turn of events. Then, it all came flooding back to him. A hand slowly slipped out from under the sheets and he touched Iruka's tan face, tracing the scar with his index. His fingers slipped through soft brown locks. The Chuunin was sleeping more peacefully than he'd ever seen anyone do before. Kakashi's eyes fell upon deep purple bruises on his own wrist. They had been collected during the fight against a very possessed Iruka last night. However, Kakashi was very satisfied, for there were similar marks adorning Iruka's neck, shoulders, and chest.

Reluctantly, Kakashi untangled his legs from Iruka's, and he sat up slowly, letting the white sheet they shared slide off of his shoulders. The Jounin glanced about the room and found that random articles of clothing had been strewn about. He gathered up what he determined was his, and then slipped out of the room, heading for the shower. Kakashi would spare the Chuunin an awkward moment of waking up next to him. Besides, Iruka would soon rise on his own time. The man had school to teach.

For some nearly warped reason, this thought made Kakashi grin.

Sure enough, he heard a strangled cry seven minutes later followed by heavy footsteps up to the bathroom door. "Damn it, Kakashi, hurry up! I'm going to be late!" Kakashi's low laughter echoed in the shower. He shook water out of his eyes and turned off the rushing water. The Jounin dried down quickly, but pounding on the door meant he would be forced to pull on his clothing in the room. He tightly wrapped the towel around his waist, gathered his belongings, and opened the door.

A shouting and frantic Iruka suddenly stopped dead and stared at Kakashi, jaw suddenly slackening.

The Jounin smiled charmingly and sidestepped him. "All yours." Kakashi watched the red face vanish as the door was promptly slammed shut. He thought he had heard the mutter of 'You did that on purpose', but then again, a ninja's hearing was never too good. The Jounin grinned slyly to himself, eyes flickering to the bathroom door before disappearing into Iruka's room.

That had been rewarding….

---

Iruka's pupils saw nothing unordinary about his soft humming, and the slight limp was so well covered that it went unnoticed by all. The Academy students enjoyed the momentary lack of outbursts, keeping themselves and their peers in line enough to allow this wonderfully passive mood to continue. If they played tricks, they performed toned down versions and then revel in the fact that Iruka would only shake his head with a ghost of a smile and continue to grade their tests.

His mood faded as the school day ended, but the soft humming and a gentle blush in his cheeks remained in tact. Iruka couldn't remember the origin of the song, but a wordless tune was weaving itself around his thoughts, wrapping around his vocal cords. It was the sound of a man content.

However, what his students found normal, his co-workers at the Missions Office found unusual. Iruka was normally polite, smiling slightly as you spoke to him, but he rarely enjoyed his hours in the Office. The courteous smile never used to reach his eyes, whereas, today it did. It was not a smile meant to be polite but one of shy secrecy. His fellow Shinobi were intrigued; that sort of expression demanded interrogation, and yet, none of them were quite willing to risk spoiling the sudden, and probably delicate, change.

They watched him file scrolls and papers, shift through old reports and recent ones. He marked the progress of each Genin team that reported. Hours went by and he was undisturbed, pushing time forward with his gentle melody.

A paper was shoved under his nose.

"Ah, wonderful afternoon, Nakura-chan," he chirped, taking the report in his hands with a light in his eyes.

The woman recoiled, gaze sweeping over the attendant. "Iruka-sensei…" Something was wrong. It was in his gaze and his body; the way he held himself was different.

A presence behind Nakura made her startle and turn around. "Yo." Kakashi offered his ordinary smile and then stepped around her, holding up a folded paper. It landed in Iruka's outstretched hand. It was ripped, dirty, and sloppily written, but for once in his life, it was on time. "Here. Team Seven mission report."

Nakura blatantly stared at Kakashi. The rest of the Missions Deportation Office did the same. On time…

Iruka set the report aside, gracing him with a bright smile. "Thank you very much, Kakashi-san. They did well."

Kakashi nodded, pocketing his hands. A grey eye swiveled over to the staring Nakura. "Mm?"

"You're punctual," she accused.

This made the Jounin pause and tap his chin with a finger. He looked up as if trying to recall an event that occurred so long ago that it merited time to think. "Ah, well, I suppose I am," came the blatantly sarcastic response.

Nakura turned to Iruka. "What's going on here?"

"Nothing, Nakura-chan." Smile.

She turned to Kakashi.

He shrugged.

The woman huffed, turning on her heel and -as the office watched expectantly- vanished in a puff of smoke. She had deducted they wouldn't say anything more. It would have to be discovered through spying…

Iruka watched a plume of smoke twist lazily in the air. "She was upset." He noted. "She used black smoke."

"She shouldn't be so forward about it," Kakashi mumbled, waving a hand in the air to brush away the cloud. "Oh well. Say, Iruka, how about I treat dinner tonight, ne? Pay you back for Ichiraku. No ramen this time, I've had enough of that."

"Alright." The Chuunin grabbed a scroll from his left. "This is a D rank mission that needs to be completed by this evening. Team seven'll need to track down a missing cat." He paused, grabbing a pen and scrawled a message out on a piece of paper. "That needs to be delivered to Tekki-san. These are the owner's instructions and address along with additional information." Iruka's co-workers began to loose interest at this. "See you around."

"Yup." Kakashi turned on his heels, walking out of the Office. As he opened the door to the outside of the department, Team Seven's shouts at one another exploded in the air. The Jounin's presence made Sakura stop in her strangle hold on Naruto, and she looked up at him, eying the paper in Kakashi's hand. He quickly handed off the scroll to Sakura, "Cat hunt. Go," he said and waved them off. As soon as the Genin left, he pulled out the letter Iruka had given him, knowing full well that it, indeed, was not a note for Tekki.

Kakashi-san,

Thank you for the invitation. You don't have to pay the bill; I'll take care of it. Wait for me outside the Office; I don't have to tell you what time.

And will you be going to Asuma-san's afterward or will you be accompanying me home? You're more than welcome to continue staying for as long as you want.

-Umino Iruka

Kakashi smiled, neatly folding the note and placing it in his vest pocket. It fit perfectly next to the letter Iruka had written for him yesterday.

Perhaps, he should observe his students like he was supposed to.

---

Kakashi and Iruka had chosen to eat at an actual restaurant rather than a stand. After a short, playful battle over who would pay, they finally agreed to split the bill in half. The restaurant was set up in a cubical style, guaranteeing the diners privacy of conversation. It was a popular venue for business partners, families, and couples.

The two shinobi were seated on cushions set up around a low table. It was a smaller set up, naturally for smaller parties ranging two to four. An array of food was before them, all half-eaten at this point. Sushi, vegetables, and rice was the feature. Their conversation flowed easily, interspersed with laughter and side remarks about their fellow co-workers.

"-and she just couldn't believe it. Next thing you know, Asuma-san has a bottle of sake and he's offering it over to Nakura-chan." This made both men laugh. Kakashi popped a sushi roll in his mouth and munched thoughtfully.

Iruka prodded at his rice with his chopsticks. "They remind me of some old friends actually. Only Asuma-san and Nakura-chan's roles were reversed." A sushi roll was selected instead.

"Mm?" Kakashi's eyes lifted from his food to the Chuunin. He playfully held a lone chopstick between his lips, snapping it upwards and letting it fall back into place, then repeating the process. "Who?"

"Nn. They've been dead for years now. It's not important." Brown eyes locked on the chopstick. He felt the urge to confiscate it…

"They ninja?" Kakashi asked, plucking the chopstick from his lips so that he could use it. Normally, the Jounin wouldn't have pried beyond Iruka's primary refusal to divulge the information, but for some reason, Kakashi felt an urge to know.

Iruka scratched at a mark just below his jaw. "Yes. One of them was."

Kakashi instinctively eyed the dark mark the Chuunin was itching at. Upon realizing precisely what it was, how it got there, and how it would be renewed, all within the time frame of .25 seconds, Kakashi dismissed it. "Oh yeah? What level?"

Iruka shifted and gained a posture that was marginally less relaxed than he had been before. Talking about these people seemed to be nearing taboo for Iruka. "Chuunin." With all the speed and accuracy of a fisher bird, Iruka snatched a sushi roll from Kakashi's plate. It was a silent challenge and an attempt to distract.

Kakashi smiled and his chopsticks lashed out, snatching the roll away just as it was about to enter Iruka's mouth. "What were their names?" he asked, waving the last roll in the air, holding it as hostage before Iruka.

His victim closed his eyes, suppressing silent emotions better left in the past. "Murakami Kasane and Higashiyama Yukio."

"Kasane and Yukio…" Kakashi milled over the names in his mind. He recalled a mention of a 'Yukio' some time ago. It had only been a few weeks in reality. "Don't know them." Kakashi leaned forward and popped the sushi roll in Iruka's mouth as a reward for the information.

Pink tinged Iruka's cheeks. "You wouldn't. They were outsiders." Sushi devoured, he licked his lips, eyeing the veggies. How cute. He was avoiding having to look at the Jounin.

"Oh yeah?" Kakashi asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

"Yes." Iruka dived at a broccoli stalk.

Kakashi snatched the broccoli from under Iruka's sticks, pulling it away from his reach. His eyes were still locked on his prey. "Where they from?" He asked as he sat back. The perfect vegetable now loomed threateningly near his lips.

Iruka retaliated by plucking another stalk and sticking it in his mouth. He gave his vegetable with a look of defined indignation. There was a resounding crunch as he painfully watched Kakashi bite it in half. He snapped. "Yukio-san was from the hidden village of mist. Kasane-chan from a town on the outskirts of sand territory." The Chuunin snatched another stalk, watching Kakashi wearily.

Kakashi's chopsticks popped into Iruka's mouth, leaving the broccoli behind. Iruka had been correct in his assessment. This bit of vegetable was the best piece in the dish. Or… was it because Kakashi- "So what were they doing in Konoha?"

"Kakashi…Can we not just enjoy our food?"

"I'm enjoying it, aren't you?" Kakashi tweaked a chopstick upward, holding it carefully between his teeth. "Why won't you tell me about Yukio-san and Kasane-san?"

"It is in the past and there is no reason for me to bring it up." He replied simply, eyes trained on their food.

"Ok, ok." Kakashi nodded. He plucked a fried noodle and sucked it up.

"I'm sorry…. It's bitterness; the fact that I wasn't able to save them like I wasn't able to help my parents." Iruka carefully set his chopsticks down. "I'm aware that, given my age and skill level, I would have died needlessly but…it doesn't alleviate the regret."

Kakashi's gaze faltered for an instant. "Mm…" His chopsticks grabbed a piece of fish and he stuck it in his mouth. There was thoughtful silence as he chewed and swallowed. "What happened to them, if you don't mind me asking?"

Iruka sighed and looked away from the Jounin, studying what was left on his plate. "Yukio-san was killed on mission. Kasane-chan was murdered." It was all he was willing to part with concerning their deaths.

"I see," he murmured.

A slow, courteous smile took the place of his deepening frown. "So, should we order more sushi or are you finished?"

"Nah, I'm finished." The subject lightened, and with it Kakashi's disposition.

"Dessert?"

The Jounin paused and nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

---

"Sweet, isn't it?" Isamu raised his ramune bottle, staring at the florescent light through the pale green glass. The little red marble clinked as its container was moved. He seemed unconcerned with Yasuo's exhaustion. The boy's bottle of the sweet drink remained untouched on the kitchen table. "This place is remarkably clean." A thin, feminine hand appeared from the daisy print kimono sleeve, sweeping through the air in a grand gesture at Kakashi's living room. Yasuo's bleary eye followed Isamu's long fingernail, indicating a bag propped up against the couch. It was the boy's small cache of belongings. "And that is the only evidence someone uses this place." He laughed. "Are you not going to drink? You must be tired! Hungry? Thirsty?"

"Un uh…" Yasuo closed his eyes, leaning forward and placing his head against the tabletop. The wood felt good against his flushed cheeks. "Just… gimme a minute…." He let out a deep breath, fighting back a dizzying feeling. Hashimoto Yasuo had been sure not to strain himself too much during his training with Isamu, but he still felt pretty sick. The boy had not made any progress with executing the Mirror Mirror Jutsu, though his sensei had claimed he was doing everything perfectly. It was rather irritating, and he couldn't help but feel as though the crazy man was holding back some vital piece of information.

Something cold and slick pressed against the back of his neck. He startled and his eyes opened as he turned his head. Yasuo found Isamu standing behind him with his bottle resting against his skin. His eye twitched.

"You'll feel better if you drink," Isamu declared.

The boy sat up and pushed the bottle away. A trail of condensation was left in its place. "I should probably have water," Yasuo murmured, staring at the wet streak on the tabletop. He stood, using the chair for support.

Isamu's bright golden eyes vanished behind eyelids in a facial grin. "Tea?"

Yasuo sighed and plopped back down in the chair. "Ok, that works."

"Do clean up. The water will take a few minutes to boil." Isamu chuckled, swaying through the kitchen. He said no more but a meaningful glance was shot back once, then twice as he shifted around.

Hashimoto Yasuo eyed the man wearily, but then gave in. "I'll be quick," he murmured and left for the restroom.

He froze when he heard Isamu's distressed cry. "Yasuo-kuuuun! Kakashi-san has no tea!" A slim figure nearly collided with him in the hall and the former Jounin sprang backwards then forward, grabbing hold of a black sleeve. "Come, come! We'll depart to my apartment!"

Isamu's pupil didn't have the will nor the strength to argue.

---

Yasuo looked around the apartment cautiously. The cool night air had perked up his mind, but the walk -or closer to frantic dash- had worsened his physical condition. He sat down on the living room sofa and stared at the tea table in front of him. He never understood what it was about tea that made some of these older people freak out. It seemed to be particularly true for his current sensei, as strange of a quirk that was. Of course, the obsession did not top the cross-dressing fetish…. He blinked heavily, lifting his eyes around the comfortable apartment. It was a nice place, decorated with floral print and the occasional weapon on the wall.

"I've got this lovely blend of green with ginseng," Isamu had already whipped out a porcelain pot, filled it with water and now, it sat on the stove. "It helps soothe the nerves." After a moment he added. "Yes, do clean before the tea is ready."

This made the boy groan. Really, he wasn't that bad, and the thought of showering at Isamu's place was rather disturbing. However, with a single glare from the sensei, he stood up quickly. "Ok, ok, I'm going." He muttered reluctantly. "Uh, which way is the-"

Isamu pointed in a direction before returning to tea preparation.

"Ah… thanks." The boy trudged off. The shower had been very, very brief. It wasn't that the water was cold, or the bathroom was a mess, it was that he felt nervous in Isamu's domain. This discomfort made him realize that, in actuality, he didn't really know the guy too well. The epiphany was disturbing. The boy considered talking to Isamu about it, but he knew too well that that wasn't the way ninja worked. As he pulled his shirt over his head and tied the hitae-ate in place, he determined he would have to find out shinobi style.

Yasuo left the water running in the shower and peered out the bathroom door. He could hear Isamu's busy humming and shifting in the kitchen. That would mean that he would have a good three minutes to conduct his research and return to the bathroom without notice. The boy slipped down the hallway undetected and opened up the bedroom door.

It was a simplistic array with a bed against the wall, black curtained window above it, a desk against the opposite wall littered with miniature paper cranes. There was nothing particularly unusual. On the walls were old, stained or broken shuriken and various other weapons of assassination. An occasional paper fan mingled with the weapons. As Yasuo drifted toward the desk, he spied a small photograph among the sea of colored paper birds. An older man and woman stood side by side in a tall grass field, a little girl inset between them. He blinked once, studying the picture closely. The little girl was actually Isamu, he was sure of it. He'd never seen anyone else with golden eyes like that sans Matsuhara Tekki, his claimed cousin. The adults beside him were, presumably, his parents.

The desk drawer was unlocked when he tried to open it, and he carefully prodded at its contents. A few nondescript papers were here but otherwise-

Yasuo's fingers brushed against cloth.

The boy lifted a sheet of paper and his eyes landed on a black strip of fabric. When he picked it up, he found it was a hitae-ate, but the symbol was one he didn't recognize. His fingertips traced over the black bird, wings spread wide and proud. After determining it was not a symbol he recognized, his mind quickly ran over the surrounding countries. Waterfall, Rice Field, and Lightning country were all to the north. In the east there was Wave, Water, Nagi Island, and O'uzu Island. To the south was Tea, Swamp, and Sea Country. And finally to the west was River, Wind, Earth, Rain, Grass and-

Bird Country. Yes, Isamu had once told him that he'd spent his earliest years outside of Fire Country. He hadn't asked where that had been. This was the Land's symbol, not a specific hidden village. Of course, Bird was never known for its ninja.

He turned the headband over in his hands, feeling the old, worn down cloth. His eyes lifted to the picture of Isamu's parents and he smiled gently. This must have been one of theirs. Yasuo looked down at the desk to find yet another. Both of his parents had been ninja. He almost felt a pang of envy. Isamu had had so much more opportunity than himself.

He touched the picture, fingers drawing down the father figure. The man was smiling, hand placed proudly on their little boy's head. His own father had done that before, before his mother had died… He bit his bottom lip.

"Yasuo-kun! Yasuo-kun!"

He gasped and expertly slipped the hitae-ate back where he found it and slid the drawer shut. He whirled around.

Isamu stood in the doorway with his hands tucked away in the large sleeves. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "You really shouldn't let shinobi habits dominate your behavior." The man paused and then shook his head. "Oh, wait, I suppose that's incorrect. We are ninja, aren't we? Ahh, I forget sometimes." He tilted his head in the general direction of the kitchen. "The tea is ready, and we can't let it get cold!"

Yasuo nodded quickly, darting past Isamu out the door as if the sooner he left, the less guilty he would be of snooping. He stopped in the bathroom, shutting off the water and then walked into the kitchen, sitting down at the table heavily. So, tea calmed the nerves right? He lifted the glass to his lips, taking a long gulp. Oh yeah, that helped.

"Curious about the world?" Yasuo watched Isamu pour his own tea before sitting down in the chair opposite him. "I imagine you got as far as the desk."

Yasuo choked, setting the cup down quickly, eyes snapping up to the man. "Um…" There was no use in denying something so blatantly obvious. "Yeah… Isamu-sensei, was the country you were born in Umi no Kuni?"

"Yes. I'm no native to Fire country." A dazzling smile accompanied this. "Umi no Kuni was my home for five years. After a small feudal dispute erupted in our village, we were forced to leave."

"I see." Yasuo nodded. "And those people in the picture with you, they're your parents, right?"

"The man, yes. The woman was his current lover." Isamu turned his tea cup, setting it down. The man turned a thoughtful gaze to his ceiling.

Yasuo's eyes flickered to the ceiling out of pure nervous habit. There wasn't anything to be seen there, but then again he couldn't be too sure. "Were you her son, or was she unrelated?"

He laughed lightly, golden bird-like eyes falling back to his student. "Completely unrelated. I never knew true my mother. Father traveled a lot and had many women."

This made Yasuo blush. "Oh, I see…" He paused, eying his tea cup. He never quite liked tea, but that was not something he would bring up to Isamu. "Any siblings?"

"Perhaps. I don't personally know them but I must have plenty of half brothers and sisters littered along the way from bird country to Konoha."

"Ah…" The thought of twenty Isamu look-alikes somehow disturbed him. His fingers traced over a knot in the wooden surface. "Did you learn genjutsu from him? I imagine you were probably too young…" The last line was a murmur more to himself.

Isamu shut his eyes tightly. "I wouldn't say 'learn'. It was more like 'discovering'. But that's nothing important."

And when a shinobi said something wasn't important, it was either just that -not important- or just the opposite -very important. Yasuo decided not to dwell. The entire situation probably explained why Isamu was so…demented, twisted, something along the line that bordered insanity and probably crossed it on occasion. He shook his head quickly, snapping out of thought. "What's Umi no Kuni like? Is it really as green and flat as they say it is?"

"No. It's golden and it has many hills. And…I suppose it can be green and flat. And some mountains. I believe there are some mountainous areas." Isamu gathered a skeptical look from his student. Then he abruptly asked, "Do you believe I am insane?" One gold eye was fixated on Yasuo's face. It was an unnerving, avian gaze.

"Oh, no way," Yasuo shook his head quickly. "Of course I don't. You're just a little…" he fumbled for the right word, "eccentric."

Both eyes came to fasten upon Yasuo, gleaming through ebony bangs. "You and the entirety of Konoha have failed!" He suddenly exclaimed as he slammed a manicured hand on the table, making the boy jump. "What if this crazed transvestite you see before you is a front? Have you tried to discern my actions? Perhaps analyze my behaviorisms to see deceit?" Isamu lowered both thin brows.

Yasuo stiffened. Of course, the answer to all of those questions was 'yes' but he had been startled into silence. The boy shifted uneasily, turning things over in his mind. "Uh… Well…" The glare he was receiving was bordering on dangerous.

"Answer, Yasuo-kun!"

"Y-yes, I-I've thought through it but-"

"Exactly! And I know you have. Any good Shinobi would have done that in the beginning. However-!" The sensei stood, pushing out his chair. "However!" he repeated for dramatic effect. "Shinobi also know well the art of deceit. If you show even the slightest deviation from a guise you create, you risk death. Therefore, is it not possible that I, being trained in genjutsu and knowing well the minds of others, have devised a personality fool-proof enough to beguile anyone I come across?"

"Ah…" His hands started to nervously fiddle under the table. Yasuo resorted to Startled Academy Student Response #1, "Maybe?"

"I'm afraid you've failed again." He pointed at the boy. "'Maybe' is not an answer. However, the correct response is 'yes'. It is entirely possible." Isamu straightened his kimono before his hands slipped around to his back. The large bow tied around him started to rustle. "Is it possible to trick fellow Jounin, Yasuo-kun?"

"Yes."

"Good. I knew you were intelligent." Yasuo's eyes widened as Isamu's bow fell to the ground. The man, for what reason only the gods would know, was currently undoing his kimono. "How does one tell when a man is lying and when he is not when he cannot see any visible signs nor hear verbal cues?"

"Uh…" The boy was currently distracted by his sensei's actions.

"Advanced interrogation techniques!" he proclaimed, pausing in undressing to place a finger in the air. "Certain genjutsu, perhaps. And genjutsu it is! Or, perhaps, it seems as such." Isamu stuffed a hand in one of his sleeves, apparently searching for something. "You read their eyes. You read the environment around them and how it reacts to their presence. And, dearest Yasuo-kun," his voice lowered, "you must read the people they associate with." He withdrew a small comb carved in the shape of a wing. "You must learn to read before I teach you what I know."

"…Ok?"

Isamu pointed at him; Yasuo hadn't noticed before, but the man had painted his fingernails crimson red. "And now, I ask you again; is all of this a front?"

Yasuo fidgeted, wilting under the accusatory finger. "Probably?"

He heard tsking in response. "Yes or no, Yasuo-kun."

Yasuo's brows furrowed and his umber eyes lifted to stare at Isamu. He determined the safest answer was, "Yes."

The kimono rolled off of Isamu's shoulders and landed around his feet in a heap of fabric. Yasuo flinched and looked away. Cautiously, he opened one eye to look over, and found, to his shock and relief, that Isamu wore a shinobi uniform without the vest. "Perhaps," Isamu began, "you've found an answer. I seem like a normal shinobi now, do I not?" The delighted glint was gone from Isamu's beautiful eyes. His face was sterner, harsher in expression.

Yasuo blinked, slowly perking up straight like a curious puppy. It was still Isamu standing before him, but it most certainly wasn't the Isamu that he knew. "Awesome," he smiled for the first time as he began to realize the point of Isamu's random yet bold lecture. The art of disguise and deception through acting. Now this was something that Yasuo felt he could accomplish with a bit of practice.

Isamu marched over, glaring down at him. "Yasuo-kun…" The corners of Isamu's mouth twitched upward into a rather scary, sardonic half-grin. "What if this personality is the one under which I hide, and the lunatic sensei you know is actually me in my entirety?"

The boy simply shook his head slowly, unable to decipher the façade.

"And that, student, is your first assignment. You must read me." For the second time during their tea, Isamu paused. "No, wait, I suppose that would be too difficult. Ah, but then…" His face lit up as he collected his kimono, reverting back to his usual self as he tied it on. "I think a greater challenge would be to observe the minds of those who are hidden from themselves."

Yasuo's temporary relief suddenly vanished. "Hidden from themselves?" The boy instinctively knew that this assignment was going in a direction he would dread.

"Yes." The man grinned. "We'll start with Matsuhara-kun."

---

"'We'll start with Matsuhara-kun'." Yasuo's voice was nasal and mocking. He tilted his head in an irritating way -very similar to Isamu's style. The boy stared down at his copy of Icha Icha Paradise, turning the page slowly. "Matsuhara-san?" he ranted to himself. "Why did it have to be him of all the people on this planet?"

Wind brushed through the trees, dancing on an afternoon sunlight. The sound of chirping birds and the occasional 'pruk' of a raven was calming to Yasuo, for he truly admired the freedom birds expressed. Still, the boy stubbornly held his irritation. Isamu had absolutely refused to associate with Yasuo until he could bring him some decent information on his target. Yasuo had done information gathering before, that was for sure. Primarily, it had been for some missions and personal business, but it hadn't been information on a specific person. Yasuo's genre of gathering was closer to events, timelines, locations of secret items.

Genjutsu was all about deception, and where he perfectly understood this, it still sucked. The boy let out a long, depressed sigh, turning another page. He'd taken to sitting at the Hero Stone today. No one ever came there unless they were seeking to get away from the busy streets of Konoha. Yasuo wondered what Iruka-sensei would say about his procrastination. The boy shifted, laying down on the fresh grass and holding the book up in front of him.

The boy's ears pricked as the sound of soft humming carried with the wind. The tune was sweet, complemented by a chorus of a chirping flock that passed overhead. A familiar presence entered into the clearing. Apparently, Iruka had another day off, and he had decided to show up here of all places he could be. It was unusual for the sensei to come here, Yasuo knew that much, so the boy assumed he was looking for something or someone.

Yasuo closed his eyes in irritation, lowering the book to his chest. He took in a deep breath and then sat up, staring at the approaching sensei. He was tired of teachers. They were loud and bossy and irritating and they gave you impossible assignments. The boy was flustered, but he couldn't help but smile at his favorite sensei. "Yo. Beat you to the spot, I guess." He folded Icha Icha Paradise shut and set it in his lap.

"Yasuo-kun!" Iruka returned the favor, offering him a congenial grin. Which, as was expected, faded as soon as the man caught sight of a familiar poppy-red book. "Yasuo-kun…"

"Mm?" The boy asked, casually slipping the small book into his back pouch. The motion oddly mimicked Kakashi's attempts to hide things from Iruka.

An eye twitched. "I don't think you've turned eighteen yet, have you?"

"Ah, well, actually I will be in two weeks…" That response had no affect on the bubbling irritation. "Actually," he tried to save himself, "A week and a half now, I'm counting down the time. Ten days!" He stood up slowly, brushing grass off of his Chuunin uniform. "You know, I think I'll head back to-"

"Hashimoto Yasuo! You can wait a few days to corrupt yourself! How did you get that?! Makoto-san would have-"

"Isamu-san! It was all him! I swear!" He stepped back defensively. "Come on, Iruka-sensei, it's getting really good. You can't take it away from me! It's- It's- you just don't do that to Icha Icha Paradise."

Yasuo's behavior was very nearly beginning to bother him. The fact that he acted so similar to Kakashi might have attributed to it. It was settled, the boy had been spending too much time with the Jounin. "But you're still reading it!" Iruka snapped. "And yes, I have taken it away from someone and I will do it again."

"You can't! I'll never let it go." He shook his head quickly. "Nuh uh. I'm too far into it at this point."

A polite smile returned to Iruka's face. "Sorry, Yasuo-kun." Iruka's image blurred.

The boy jumped forward as a hand swiped for his belt pouch. He turned around quickly, finding no one there. A hand plunged into the pouch, snagged the book, and quickly retreated. Yasuo whirled around, staring Iruka face to face. He tried to snatch it, but the older Chuunin jerked his hand away. "Hey! Come on, Iruka-senseiiii! Gimme!"

"No. This is confiscated material." Iruka shook his head. "I'll return it on your birthday."

"Come on, please? Pretty please with sugar on top?"

"No." The man repeated, pocketing the vile book in his own pouch. "You could read actual literature, Yasuo-kun. It wouldn't kill you." He held up a hand to fend off the inevitable response of 'yes it will' that always followed.

Yasuo's face suddenly set with determination. He raised his hand as well. "That is literature," he claimed.

"It's porn!" Iruka countered, whirling around. "Goodbye, Yasuo-kun. I need to find someone."

And oddly, Iruka could see out of the corner of his eye that Yasuo had turned at the same time as him. The Chuunin Sensei was remotely disturbed by the sudden rise in chakara. The boy formed quick seals and both paused in anticipation. Iruka made to leave, but his feet were suddenly, firmly glued to the ground. He tried to lift his hands, but he was paralyzed by his disobedient body.

It had been the first time Yasuo made an attempt to perform the Mirror Mirror Jutsu on anyone other than Isamu-sensei. He couldn't help but feel guilt and mischievous excitement at the same time. Something was different about this execution of the genjutsu. Instead of the stern, pushing against his force, he had felt it easily click. "Did I get you?" Yasuo asked cautiously, almost afraid to see what he'd done.

Both turned around simultaneously, slow and shaky at first, but the former student quickly gained confidence when he saw Iruka's shocked and irritated expression. The boy twitched his hand, raising his arm in the air. Iruka followed as though he were a puppet. "I did it…" Yasuo's eyes widened. "I actually did it! Mirror Mirror Jutsu is mine!" He laughed triumphantly and clenched his hands in the air. Birds squawked from the trees as if they were laughing with him. It only aided in Yasuo's pride.

"Now, Iruka-sensei!" His attention snapped back to the teacher. He could already feel his maneuver wavering in strength. "I want my book back." He reached backwards, feigning a grabbing motion near his pocket, and then held his empty hand in front of him. Iruka had the book in plain sight. Yasuo made a tossing motion, and his former sensei watched in horror as the book flew from his grasp. The boy caught, pocketed, and turned quickly, dashing off as fast as he could. The jutsu quickly dissipated on its own will.

Iruka's shout reverberated throughout all of Konoha's forest. "Hirsoshi Yasuo-kun!"

Naturally, the younger Chuunin did not return.

Iruka was left alone in the clearing feeling slightly violated. He understood full well that he was the first victim of Yasuo's new jutsu. Iruka should have felt proud of his student, learning a complicated genjutsu move within days, possibly a week. However, it only served to make him feel used. He'd have to confront Isamu about it. Oh, he'd bring up the subject of the 'sensei' buying Yasuo pornographic material, but he couldn't help but acknowledge that a small part of him wanted to know more about what Yasuo was learning. If only for the sake of knowledge. It was utterly-

Prrrrruuuukk.

He froze.

Prrruuuukk. Rustling in the trees above him signified the approach of the avian species. They were hopping forward through the branches, edging ever closer…

Very slowly, Iruka glanced toward the source of the noise, spying an enormous, fat, beady-eyed raven perched on a branch in a tree to his right. It spread its wings and immediately leapt into the air, circling over head before landing on the slick marble Hero Stone. Its head tilted as though it were expecting something.

Adrenaline surged through Iruka's veins and his heart rate skyrocketed. He quickly turned around and walked away.

Prrruuuukk.

He flinched. Iruka struggled to keep himself at a steady, quick pace. His limbs were tense, his mind screamed at him to run, his head grew light with oxygen, but he remained collected.

PRRRUUUK! The loud flapping of wings made him jump. The creature soared towards him. Iruka whirled around with wide eyes, chucking a shuriken at it. The bird dodged, suddenly folded back its wings, making a suicidal dive over his head. Iruka gasped, stumbling backwards and knocking into a tree. It smacked into the ground with a sickening crunch.

His hand clamped down on his chest, struggling to steady the pounding heart hidden behind his sternum. It hurt. Brown eyes locked on the dead bird before him. Feathers lay strewn about its body and its wings and neck had been contorted into odd positions by the powerful, deadly impact. A bone had been jammed through the skin of its neck and blood began to pool around the limp body.

None of its companions were coming in to avenge it. It seemed like it was alone for the most part, or at the very least, a loner in the flock. Iruka should have never come to the Hero Stone to try to find Kakashi. He would have turned back to the streets if he hadn't sensed Yasuo-kun's presence. Perhaps it was a good thing he showed up. If Yasuo had been left alone for much longer…if the boy had fallen asleep…then there was a chance that Iruka wouldn't have been the intended victim. Yasuo and Iruka were close; the message would have gotten across either way.

Cautiously, he shuffled over to the corpse, leaning over to examine it. Its lifeless eyes were staring at him with something close to accusation. Iruka gently tipped it over with a sandaled foot.

"Falling."

Iruka's foot snapped back and he squeaked. No, no he should leave it well alone. Let wild dogs play with the corpse, but he should not. Underbrush quivered when he passed through, and the carcass lie where it had fallen, ready to rot for whatever purpose its master commanded.

With the departure of human kind, a squirrel skittered out from its place in the shadows of a bush. Cruel talons swooped downward from a clear sky above, and raked its back. In an instant, the rodent's spine was snapped. The flacon screeched, beating its wings to lift to a higher draft in the air, feet clenching hold of its prey. Its head tilted as if to look down upon the fallen raven. With another thrust of wings, it was gone.