The Governess
Ysmirel
Summary:
""What," he finally asked, "is so funny?"
Ibara bit her lower lip to keep the chuckles in, still smiling and making absolutely no effort to get more space between them, seemingly perfectly at ease within reach of a trained shinobi. Her self-control wasn't all that good, as she ended up snorting and was overcame once again by another fit of laughter. "I just- It's just-" She struggled to speak, trying to catch her breath and wiping away tears of mirth with the hand that wasn't still holding onto his vest. Finally, she looked him in the eye and said, with a smile that was all teeth and without a hint of her previous drunken stupor, "and who's going to believe you?"
As he stood there, stunned by her words and change in demeanor, he realized with dawning horror that she was right."
In which Kakashi finds himself at the other end of the troll shtick, and he doesn't appreciate it all that much.
Notes:
Okay so I just need to write something, anything, to make the writing juices flow again, and this is what came out of it. I have to get up, allegedly, in four hours, so if you see a typo tell me? Idk man I just wanted to finish this before going to bed
If Kakashi seems out of character, it's because we're still pretty early in canon (Naruto is like, five?) and he's still shifting his personality from 'stick in the mud' to 'master troll'. Baby boy hasn't even started reading porn in public yet
Anyways, this is the first time I'm going to write romance, so uuuuuh be patient with me? I guess?
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
Chapter 1: "A prude walks into a brothel," starts the joke.
Notes:
Okay so I just need to write something, anything, to make the writing juices flow again, and this is what came out of it. I have to get up, allegedly, in four hours, so if you see a typo tell me? Idk man I just wanted to finish this before going to bed
If Kakashi seems out of character, it's because we're still pretty early in canon (Naruto is like, seven?) and he's still shifting his personality from 'stick in the mud' to 'master troll'. Baby boy hasn't even started reading porn in public yet
Anyways, this is the first time I'm going to write romance, so uuuuuh be patient with me? I guess?
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Yuugen Ibara was as much of an entity as she was a woman. She had manifested in Konoha one day and, the next thing anyone knew, the jinchuriki had started following her around like a duckling. Not a bad comparison, given his bright yellow hair and propensity for orange. In contrast to his brightness, she had ink-black hair and eyes, and usually wore dark colored furisodes. Her clothes were elegant in their simplicity, though they also gave her the appeareance of someone in mourning. Some speculated that she was a widow who had moved to Konoha after her husband's death, and gossiped about why or how she had come to be at the village hidden in the leaves. The wildest theories circulating around had her killing her husband in a convoluted plot to take his money and elope with her ninja lover, only to find her lover already with another woman, or dead on a mission. The rumour mill was always spinning in Konohagakure, and they always found new and interesting stories to feed it.
No one had dared ask her about it, however. She had a strict demeanor; a mix of noblewoman attitude and the disapproval of a specially old-fashioned grandmother, who had judged you and found you disappointing, but whom you still – deep down – wanted the approval of. Her long hair was collected in a low bun so perfect that some thought it to be a genjutsu, and nobody, to this day, had ever seen her smile.
Except for Naruto, who would swear up and down that Ibara-nee was the nicest person ever, followed only by the old man and Ichiraku. Needless to say, nobody actually believed him.
"I think she might be part yuki-onna," Genma, who had been quietly watching her walk by, said. It was hard to tell when he was joking or not, and Raidō had given up at some point during the past six years.
"And you are not saying this because she has completely ignored all of your attempts at flirting, are you?" he drawled, aware that it would, at the very least, annoy Genma a little. The chunin had been deliberately 'encountering' her in the market every time she went grocery shopping, offering to carry her bags and making light conversation. The woman hadn't been displeased by it, but then again, she hadn't looked especially pleased either. Genma only did it out of curiosity, wanting to know more about the mysterious character that had appeared one day in the village and became a fixture of it, but Raidō knew that it still hurt his pride to be incapable of seeing through her veneer of politeness. Raidō himself wasn't sure it was a veneer at all, or if it was just her having the rather bland personality of a civilian housewife paired with a bad case of resting bitch face. It wasn't a crime to like her own privacy, and in his own opinion, if she was indeed mourning, it was her own damn business.
Genma didn't share his opinion at all.
"She keeps deflecting all of my questions! I'm sure there's something she's hiding. How come nobody knows anything about her past?"
Raidō had to acknowledge that, in a ninja village, where everyone and their mother knew each other by hearsay, that was rather odd. However, "Maybe she isn't hiding, maybe she's just a private person, Genma. Not every girl likes being accosted on the market every week. Speaking of which, you should stop before she requests a D-rank to keep you away."
"You hurt my feelings, Raidō," Genma answered in mock hurt, managing to make his voice break towards the end. Raidō wasn't fooled.
"Besides," he continued, as if Genma had never spoken, "not to be mean or anything, but she isn't that pretty. I mean, no offense, it's just a fact." And it was, indeed, the truth. For all that she was imposing in her severity, Yuugen Ibara wasn't pretty or beautiful in the way one would notice walking down the street. She had a subtle kind of beauty, true, the kind you would see only if you took your time to observe her closely. The lines of her neck, the shape of her eyes, the way the light caught on her skin- all subtle things that contributed to make a beautiful picture, the same way a landscape would appear beautiful when one was made aware of all its parts and stopped to take it in as a whole. Still, not the kind of beautiful that attracted looks, and definitely not the kind that attracted Genma. At least, not the playboy image of himself he projected to the world.
Raidō sighed, and both of them watched as the woman bought some fruit from a stall with the jinchuriki in tow like a rambunctious puppy. The elders hadn't been pleased with that. Ibara Yuugen was, in their words, a threat to the village. Not a direct threat like an enemy shinobi would pose – and they had already discarded that possibility, she was most definitely a civilian – but one to their jinchuriki's loyalty. Raidō himself had no doubt that, were the woman to turn against the village, the container of the nine tailed fox would follow suit. She still was under surveillance, in case she had been sent by another village to lure their tailed beast away.
To be honest, if that happened, Raidō wouldn't be too cross with her. The villagers had treated the boy so poorly that it wasn't a surprise that he would latch on to the first person that treated him like a normal kid. He had to admit that the boy did feel a bit unnerving to him, he couldn't feel the fox's chakra, but the ghost of its presence was still fresh in his mind after seven years. He felt a bit guilty for not trying to do more for the fourth's son, besides making sure the civilians didn't get too hostile towards the boy. However, as his therapist had said after a particularly bad mission; he couldn't help other people before he helped himself. He, like many other shinobi, still hadn't gotten over the trauma of the kyuubi attack, and until that ugly wound healed fully, he didn't think that interacting with the kid would do him any good. Selfish, maybe, but his mental and emotional health came before anyone else.
Still, he felt better knowing that someone was taking care of the kid now, and if she was an enemy... well, they would burn that bridge once it had been crossed. He wasn't the only one that thought this way, not all of konoha's shinobi kept an eye on the kid, but those that did, those who had been closer to his parents, were pleased to see him happier.
All except one.
Kakashi Hatake, usually the most laid back jōnin around, was suspicious of her to the point of requesting to do the surveillance himself. The guy was hellbent on discovering her horrible secret, and seemed to expect her to be some sort of child-eating demon. He would most likely have reacted differently to Genma's yuki-onna joke. Kakashi was distrustful bordering on paranoid, and in fact was one of the ones that insisted that she must have been sent from an enemy village. Given his personal collection of tragedies, Raidō couldn't hold his wariness against him. If it had been him, he too would be sure that everyone was out to kill his loved ones in terrible ways.
Oh, it's not that he hated the woman, per se – though he was secretly a bit bitter about how much the kid loved her while he couldn't bring himself past the guilt enough to even introduce himself to the boy – but he clearly didn't like her either. This, more than anything, was very amusing to the ones who knew him and remembered his days at the academy. He had been very driven then, too, and he seemed to have regained some of that determination – or more accurately, stubbornness – back. Though it must have been jarring for the people that had only ever known him as the laid back guy who kept a stash of porn books hidden, to others it had felt nostalgic. Gai had cried tears of youth, seeing his rival so driven to reach a goal, even if he felt conflicted that Kakashi's goal was to shadow a beautiful flower of Konoha, which wasn't very manly, in Gai's opinion. The man felt conflicted about it. Maybe. Raidō wasn't very sure of what went on in Gai's head, to be honest.
The thing was that the woman had caused quite a stirrup, and Raidō was sick of hearing about her all the time. He just wanted to have some time with his partner, dammit.
He vindictively flung an ice cube from his drink into Genma's flack jacket, and managed to throw it right inside the back of his neck. The other ninja let out an undignified yelp as it made its way down his back, shimmying in a very odd dance to get it out.
Genma glared at him, but Raidō just grinned back; he had distracted him enough to lose track of the woman.
Kakashi wasn't tired of following her around. He wasn't getting bored, or anything, even though all she had done for a month now was follow the same routine every week. She must have come from a daimyo's court, he thought, as she kept receiving letters from noble houses that he hadn't yet been able to recognize. That didn't bode well, as that meant that they didn't belong to the Land of Fire. However, he had read through the letters – and had, admittedly, felt a bit stalkerish – and they merely asked for advice on various fields. Love, wealth, politics... Whoever these nobles were, it seemed like she acted as a sort of advisor to them, which explained how she could afford to support herself and Naruto without an apparent job. She received periodical payments in her bank account, all perfectly legal, and they were usually paid about five days later of her sending her answers. From that, he gleamed that it must be to some place five days away from Konoha... which wasn't much to go by.
She also received poems, paintings or even books, sometimes, and though he felt rather uncomfortable reading those, he argued – more for the sake of his conscience than anything else – that they might contain a secret code. So far he had found none.
It wouldn't be far from the truth to state that he was getting a bit frustrated.
The worst part was her little notebook. She spent the mornings writing in it, engrossed in its small pages, and once she was done she would put it back in her obi. It stayed there the whole day, and at night, when she went to sleep, she put it under her pillow. Kakashi had considered trying to get it while she slept, but even if he was stealthy, she would surely notice the pillow under her head being moved.
Once she was done with her little notebook and had answered all her letters, she would do menial chores around the house and, once a week, go to the market to buy groceries. After that, she would cook lunch, read one of her books until around six or so, and take Naruto to the park to play. Not that the kid had many friends, but if he was to look at the silver lining, at least he had made a few. Shikamaru Nara and Choji Akimichi were the two boys with whom Naruto spent most of his time with, sometimes adding Inuzuka Kiba to the mix. Some days, Yamanaka Ino would join them and bring her friend Haruno Sakura with her too, which wold elicit groans from the Nara and Inuzuka, while Naruto was utterly thrilled. The first day he had met them, the girls had shown him how to make flower crowns, and he had been ecstatic when he had received the one they had made as an example to show him as a present. He had worn it the rest of the day, uncaring of the looks he got from the civilians or the snickers coming from other boys his age. His smile had grown even brighter when Yuugen had complimented him for it, and he had gone out again just to gather flowers and make her one. She had looked so stupidly happy with her stupid flower crown – it's not like he would have wanted one from the kid too, he wouldn't have worn it, she looked ridiculous with it anyways.
That was another thing about her: Naruto had been right. Sort of.
It had surprised him to find that she did, indeed, have a wider range of expressions other than 'disappointed in your performance'. She wasn't overly expressive, though, just a small smile here, a slight furrow of her brows there. You had to look for the changes to see them, but then again, the kid had always been very perceptive, like his parents. He tried not to think too much about it.
He was starting to waver in his conviction that she wasn't what she wanted them to believe. He still didn't know what was in her little notebook, yes, but for all he knew, it might just be a diary. She seemed like a private person, it made sense that she wouldn't leave it just laying around in a ninja village. Not to say that ninja tended to come snooping in civilian houses but, well, you never knew.
Kakashi's hand twitched as he made an aborted movement to get his new book from his pocket. He could be reading it right now – just to see what everyone was talking about, mind you, he was a loyal Icha Icha fan – but no, he was staring through a window like a creepy stalker at a woman that was most definitely a well-meaning civilian. He hadn't been able to take care of his sensei's son, and now he wanted to drive away the only caretaker Naruto had ever known. What was wrong with him?
In the end, he had decided to give it one more week. At the end of the week he would have been keeping an eye on her for exactly one month, and if nothing had happened in that time, then he doubted anything would at this point. Either she was one hell of an infiltrator... or she really was just a widow that had taken Naruto under her care, probably to fill the void of the son she could've had. Well maybe not that, exactly, but someone that wanted to care for Naruto, in any case, and Kakashi couldn't bring himself to sepparate her from the boy just because of his paranoia. He wasn't that cruel.
He was so convinced that he had wasted almost a month watching a civilian, that when she left the house – it was a nice house with one floor and a back garden – he almost missed it. Almost.
Tonight had been the only time she had deviated from her routine. Usually, after Naruto was done playing in the park, they would come back to the house, she would cook dinner – sometimes Naruto helped – and they would eat it together. Finally, she would tuck the boy in and, after doing some night reading, she would fall asleep herself. Tonight though, after tucking him in, she had gone into her room and changed clothes. Kakashi had looked away like he always did, not wanting to feel even creepier, and when he looked back he almost didn't recognize her. It was as if a completely different person had replaced her. She hadn't even changed anything other than her clothes and her hairstyle but as he looked, he realized that her posture was off. This new persona was slouching in comparison to Yuugen's perfectly straight posture from before, one of her hands slung loosely by her side, while the other rested on her waist as she examined herself in the mirror.
She still wore civilian clothes, though these were definitely less modest than her usual furisode. Her pants were loose over her legs, with splits on the sides, but clung tightly past her hips, ending just above her navel and accentuating her waist. The form fitting shirt she had chosen was translucent, and as such, left little to the imagination, even if she wore a small, black top with aspirations to become a real bra one day underneath it. To top it all off, she was now putting on make up. Not too much, just lipstick and eyeliner, and combed her eyelashes with something that Kakashi thought looked like a torture device. Still, given that he had only ever seen her with a clean face, the effect threatened to cross the line into uncanny valley.
Once she was satisfied with the results and had made sure that Naruto was safely sleeping in bed, she stepped out into the street, and Kakashi followed, puzzled. Maybe she had a date? No, he hadn't seen her flirt with anybody. Maybe Genma had finally gotten lucky? No, that couldn't be it; she had been nothing sort of uninterested everytime she had encountered him, which had been very amusing to watch. But then... who?
Perhaps he had been right after all, and she was an infiltrator going to meet with someone to pass on information. But then why would she change her appeareance? It would have been safer for her to look like her normal self, but instead she had gone through the effort to look like the complete opposite. It didn't make any sense at all. He was so busy puzzling over this that he almost lost her in the crowd, which had been growing thicker as she walked. He had panicked for a total of twelve milliseconds, when he finally spotted the back of her head – harder to recognize now that she had let her hair down – going into... into... Oh. Oh, dear.
He had been so lost in his head that he hadn't noticed it when she had walked into the red district, and straight towards the most expensive brothel in it. Oh, dear, indeed.
This was just bizarre. She was Yuugen Ibara, the most boring civilian he'd had the misfortune of following around – nevermind that he had requested the mission personally – and had the same taste for clothes, and the mannerisms, of an old lady. An old lady who belonged to a clan, or a part of nobility, at least. The civilians had dubbed her The Governess because of the way she kept berating people about proper manners, she couldn't just- She couldn't just waltz her way into a brothel.
Should he- should he go... inside too? On one hand, he was supposed to be shadowing her, but on the other... well. That was just too much, it was too much for him. See? This was why he never took these kinds of missions. Being a hunter nin was much better, just beat someone up or get rid of them and congratulations, you were done and you didn't have to watch your target do the sideways sparring match.
He tried getting in, his wish to fullfill his orders temporarily overcoming his inhibitions, but the loud moans coming from everywhere inside the building kept him outside better than any barrier ever could. In the end, he couldn't bring himself to it, so he settled for waiting until she came out, trying to will his face to be less red and failing miserably.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity but had in actuality only been four hours – four whole hours, what the shit – she emerged from the brothel. Her still wet hair and the faint scent of roses that wafted off of her indicated that she had taken a bath, a fact in which Kakashi didn't want to dwell more than necessary.
After that she spent the rest of the night going from one bar to another, and by the end of the night, Kakashi was fuming. How could she leave Naruto alone like that to go and- And- What kind of responsible adult did that? And he had trusted her enough to allow the kid to move in with her without a peep. The Hokage had asked him, him, and he had been okay with it as long as he got to keep an eye on her. Thank the will of fire he had decided to do so, who knew what this woman planned. Obviously, Ibara Yuugen was only a facade, a pretense so she would be trusted with the boy. Why else would she show these two vastly different behaviours then, if one of them wasn't false? By the time they arrived at the house, he had talked himself into such a state of righteous anger on behalf of his sensei's son that he didn't even stop to think before he decided to confront her.
It was late, with not a soul in sight, so he jumped down into the street when she was about to insert the key into the door – that is, if she could, after all he had seen her drink. She tensed at his presence behind her, and Kakashi felt a twinge of vindictive pleasure upon seeing it. Slowly, she turned to look at him... and promptly relaxed when she saw him, letting her shoulders drop with a huff.
"Oh," she slurred, "'s just you."
Just him? What did that even mean? They had never met before, so how could she recognize who he was?
He must have been standing there, confused and silent, for too long, because she fidgeted under his gaze uncomfortably – good – before speaking again. "Ssooo... want somethin'?"
He couldn't help but wonder if her speech was being affected by the alcohol, or if this was just the way her other persona usually spoke. The so-called Governess wouldn't have let herself caught dead speaking like that.
"Maa, maa," he said, forcing a smile. No use in being too hostile early on, that only served to make targets close off, and then you could only get answers with, ah, creative methods. "Can't a jōnin of Konoha worry about its citizens? My, I saw you making a beeline while walking and thought to make sure you got home safe. You shouldn't drink too much, kunoichi-san, you never know when you might need to fight an enemy."
The thinly-veiled threat seemed to zoom right past her head, and she snorted, the action jostling her whole body. "'M not a kunoichi."
Ah, well, it had been worth a try. Not that he had expected someone who hadn't broken character in a month to slip just because of that, but hey, it could have worked. Time to bring out the big guns, then.
Kakashi was aware of many things, things that people usually thought he didn't know about. Like his inability to understand social cues. It wasn't something he had ever been good at, then again, he couldn't be good at everything. He had been blessed with the mind and body of a genius, but he'd had to relinquish something in exchange, and that had been his social awareness, the ability to read people's bodies and expressions to gleam what they were feeling. The sharingan, however, bypassed any lack of social skills to let him know exactly when a person was lying, which was just what he needed right now. It would be chakra consuming, yes, but without it to translate her reactions, as minuscule as they may be, he might as well be blind.
She didn't seem to react when he pulled his hitai-ate up and felt how his eye activated, she just frowned as if confused and, motioning to the right side of her face, said, "you have, uh, somethin' in your eye."
"I'm going to ask you a few questions now," he said conversationally, ignoring her previous comment, "and I want you to answer them truthfully. If you don't, I will know."
He left the implication of what would happen if she lied hanging in the air between them and, when she made no attempt to answer besides the lifting of one eyebrow, he started his improvised interrogation. He should have done this from the beginning, he would have finished the book by now, at least.
"First question." He rose a finger to illustrate his point, not having dropped the friendly act yet and still standing in the middle of the street. "Why did you come to Konoha?"
"Becausse," she drawled, pausing mid sentence as if she actually needed to think about it. "Well, the other ninja villages ssuck. Suna is too sandy, and I. Hate. Sand. Ame is always wet, Kiri too. I mean, I love rain, but not all the time. Then Iwa is like, no, y'know? Kumo seem'd nice, but it was faaar away-"
She ennumerated like that each and every hidden village, complaining about this or that thing that made them unfit for residence, as he listened with the creeping revelation that he might have been, after all, wasting his time interrogating a civilian woman. Albeit a weird one at that. How did she even know about so many hidden villages? She even knew what they looked like, had she been there herself? Was she a traveler?
"Also you have universal healthcare," she finished, very serious despite her slow swaying from side to side. She was drunker than he had thought.
He decided to go on to the next question though, desperately hoping that she wouldn't pick her previous tirade where she left it. "Why did you choose to pose as Yuugen Ibara?"
She was silent for a moment, eyes narrowed and still swaying. "That's m' name, dude," she answered after a few seconds, looking at him like he was making no sense, when she was the one with a double personality. He should have been the one looking at her like that, in any case. He rephrased his question, trying for a more direct approach.
"Why have you been acting, and dressing, like a boring old widow for two months?"
Her face lit up like she had finally understood what he was asking her. At least, he hoped she had, he didn't know if he could stand this mind-numbing interrogation for much longer. "Ooooh, that. Well, gettin' inside the vill'ge after the Kyuubi attack's a bitch, so, yeah. Also, I am a widow, y'know? Kinda."
Kakashi's eye twitched, he would very much like to know how she had learned about the Kyuubi, especially given that it had been a secret kept within the village – an S-class secret, no less. When Kakashi made no move to keep talking, she lifted one shoulder in what he supposed was a lazy shrug. "T'was just easier to get in lookin' like that, and then I liked it?"
"Liked it," he prompted, cocking his head to the side, still fake-smiling. He was actively trying to keep his left eye from twitching.
She made a sound of assentment. "Yeah, 's comfotab- combot- Look it'sss comfy, k'? Pe'ple leave me alone and n'body has tried to grab m' ass yet. 'Sides, they woulda- wouldn've let me take in t'brat like this, right? Iss not- 'S not a 'mom' look."
He sort of understood the logic - besides the fact that she couldn't have possibly kept up the charade forever, of course. Speaking of which. "And why break character now? Why risk being discovered?" He was, at this point, genuinely curious.
Ibara shrugged. She just- shrugged, as if that would convey the entirety of her thought process. Kakashi stared back at her, trying to not glare. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she scratched the back of her neck. "I jus' need'd a break, man."
Kakashi pinched the bridge of his nose, Sage help him, she was- She was so- Okay. It was fine. It was fine. She was just a well-meaning civilian, after all. A dumb, well-meaning civilian that had spent more than a month lying to every shinobi in Konoha successfully. Who apparently liked the red light district more than an Inuzuka liked dogs. Who was currently housing his sensei's son. Well, he couldn't let that stand. She would be a terrible role model, and more importantly, what kind of guardian left a child alone in an empty house?
"Alrighty," he said, his fake cheerfulness sounding more forced by the second. "You have two options, either you can have Naruto pack up tomorrow and send him back and I'll let this slide... or I'll have to report this to the Hokage and, as innocuous as your white lie has been, Naruto will be taken away and-"
His spiel was interrupted, and therefore, he was saved from feeling even more like an asshole – making Naruto go back to the orphanage would be very cruel, but at the same time, he couldn't let him live with someone that lied to everyone and then proceeded to hit every stop of the red light district. Which... sounded a bit familiar, but this was not the time to be dwelling on that, because the woman in question was currently laughing her ass off, uncaring of who might hear her.
She had thrown her head back , the elegant lines of her neck and shoulders more prominent now that they were exposed. It was a mean laugh, like she was laughing at him, rather than about something funny he had said. In her drunkenness she ended up losing her equilibrium, and he was forced to dash to her side and grab her by the shoulders in an effort to keep her steady. Yuugen, on her part, seemed to still be finding something about the situation very funny, because she wouldn't stop laughing. Shoulders still shaking, she grabbed the front of his vest and leaned her head against his chest, out of breath. When she finally calmed enough to look up at him, there were tears at the corners of her eyes and she was smiling like the ninbyō that ate the crow.
"What," he finally asked, "is so funny?"
Yuugen bit her lower lip to keep the chuckles in, still smiling and making absolutely no effort to get more space between them, seemingly perfectly at ease within reach of a trained shinobi. Her self-control wasn't all that good, as she ended up snorting and was overcame, once again, by another fit of laughter. "I just- It's just-" She struggled to speak, trying to catch her breath and wiping away tears of mirth with the hand that wasn't still holding onto his vest. Finally, she looked him in the eye and said, with a smile that was all teeth and without a hint of her previous drunken stupor, "And who's going to believe you?"
As he stood there, stunned by her words and change in demeanor, he realized with dawning horror that she was right. She had been here for months now, building her reputation as a respectable woman, albeit with a mysterious – and probably sad – backstory, while he had been making no effort to disguise his wariness of her. Additionally, he might not have been in the best of places after his sensei's death, and his public image was still recovering from it. As things were now, if he tried telling the Hokage about her, trusted jōnin of Konoha or not, it would seem like he was making it up because he didn't trust her but couldn't find conclusive evidence either. All it would take for her to make him the villain of the story, was to shed a few tears in front of the Hokage to fool him – and she could, he knew, looking down at her, his hands still on her shoulders, that she could – and make Kakashi seem like a paranoid asshole who wanted to separate a poor widow from the lonely orphan in which she had found a family.
His expression must have been a work of art, because she collapsed against him when another wave of uncontrollable laughter hit her, and he was too numb to do anything else other than stand there, watching her laugh at him. When she looked up again, still too close for his comfort, she had the same smile as before, the one that had been a mimicry of an animal snarling. "You can't take him from me," she'd said, and pried herself from him to open the door to the house she shared with his sensei's son.
"I'd invite you in for a coffee," she offered conversationally, once she was inside, "but I don't do that in the first date."
And with that, she closed the door in his face.
Notes:
No, I didn't make a mistake when I wrote that Genma was a chūnin, he'll be a jōnin later in the story dw
Yes, from the next chapter on you're mostly going to be reading from Ibara's POV
Anyways, I'm going to bed, I'll fix this tomorrow, ciao 3
Finally edited this thing. I can't believe I changed from past tense to present tense for a while and didn't even realize...
EDITED (yet again): changed Naruto's age from five to seven.
Chapter 2: No, thanks
Summary:
In which we learn some things of Ibara's past, Kakashi is a persistent ass with an uncooperative brain and the Hokage is too stressed to give a rat's ass.
Notes:
As always, no beta in sight, so, uh... I did my best?
Btw I edited last chapter to change Naruto's age from five to seven, because yes.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Oh, no. Oh no no no no.
This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening.
Ibara had been woken up the next morning by a stray ray of sun, having forgotten to close the blinds yesterday and- Oh God, what had she done.
For once, she wished she had blacked out drunk, because remembering her conversation with Kakashi last night was giving her anxiety, and she already had a surplus of that, thank you very much.
She had known that Kakashi didn't like her, she hadn't needed to be a genius or chakra sensitive to figure that one out. She had never met the guy, but rumours in Konoha spread like wildfire and, more importantly, they were hardly ever wrong. The thing was that Kakashi didn't like her, and that was okay with her (it stung a little, but it was fine). She had understood his distrust, after all, she just came out of nowhere and swooped the only reminder of Minato he had from under his nose.
The fact that he had been one of her favourite characters - being a goof and pretty cool to boot - didn't mean she couldn't get absolutely pissed at him if necessary though. She wasn't one of those people that coddled their faves and, more importantly, now that the world of Naruto was her new reality... She'd been too occupied trying to carve a place for herself in Tetsu no Kuni to enjoy it.
She had been born to a noble family and, thankfully, her parents had seen it fit for her to learn to write and read. Then she had fought tooth and nail to make her father take her seriously as his advisor, only succeeding thanks to the socioeconomics degree she had from her past life and her knowledge of the future. She hadn't told a soul about the second thing, but the Yuugen family had flourished economically and, after her father had bragged about his talented daughter at a party, other nobles had approached her for advice in different endeavours. It wasn't hard to tell them what to invest in or who to be friendly with when you had previous knowledge of the world and you kept a close ear to the ins and outs of the daimyo's court. It was expensive to keep spies there, but thankfully her family could now afford them. It's not like she had the same kind of spy network as Jiraiya, and she didn't use it the same way either, but gossip was valuable nonetheless, and if you happened to know when to invest in what and with which partners... Well, you could get pretty rich pretty fast.
Her parents had been displeased when she had announced her intentions of traveling and seeing the world (she hadn't told them that she wanted to go to Konoha, specifically), but she had reassured them that she would keep correspondence with them weekly and, as long as she continued answering their letters, she was free to roam anywhere she liked. Ibara liked to think that she had earned their trust by being an exemplar daughter, but the truth was that she had been a menace. The manners of a good lady had been drilled into her since she had been a child, but she had found that she had no patience for the rampaging sexism that still plagued the nobility in Iron. After a particular incident in which a noble had told her that ''pretty ladies like you should be seen and not heard" and he had seen her fist up close... well she hadn't lost clients, but her parents had been reluctant to let her loose on a party unsupervised ever since.
Besides that, the recent incident regarding the Koudou family had left them all with a bitter afteraste, and she couldn't stand being there any longer.
All in all, this agreement suited everyone better. She could be where she really wanted to be, and her parents could still brag about their genius daughter without anyone having to actually meet her or her fists of death (small but compact!). In essence: she could do her job at a distance and be herself without embarrassing anybody.
Except- she hadn't been herself ever since she came to Konoha, either.
She had been so used of pretending to have good manners that by the time she had already asserted her presence in the village, she had realized that she had kept up her persona the whole time, and now she couldn't just start acting like herself without drawing too much unwanted attention. Besides, Naruto had changed it all.
She had met the boy after a week of moving in. It had been easier than she thought, moving in, that is, she hadn't exactly been looking for him. Yet. Thankfully, commissioning a genin team to move her belongings from the caravan she had rented - she had traveled here with a group of merchants, despite her parents insisting that she should have at least one of the family's samurai traveling with her - had been cheaper than she had thought, and after a day of work they were already finished. They had even insisted in fetching the furniture she had bought that morning and putting it in place for her, which had been a bonus that they had been rewarded for in the form of snacks. She had already planned on giving them something to munch on after their hard work anyways, and they had been very grateful for the cookies and tea. Apparently not many people thought to offer them something to eat after a day of hard work.
It had been the next week that she had found Naruto, or rather, that Naruto had practically tackled her while running away from two shinobi from the Uchiha Police Force. They had both fell down, her poor recently-bought fruits spreading everywhere. The Uchiha had made the boy bow deeply and apologize to her, and then had been so kind as to help her put all her stray fruit - or at least the undamaged ones - back into her bag. The kid had been miffed at first, immobilized by the hand of one of the shinobi gripping the back of his shirt like he was a misbehaving kitten, but this had turned to confusion when she had ruffled his hair. It had been an afterthought, really, she was just saying goodbye to the shinobi, and telling the kid to be more careful. She'd had a little brother back in Iron, and she had used to ruffle his hair all of the time, it had been habit that had moved her hand.
Naruto had flinched, and the Uchihas had tensed up, and then before she had even registered the situation, she had finished the motion and Naruto was staring at her in awe.
Only after they had parted ways had she realized that both the shinobi and Naruto had probably expected her to hit him. She had been sad, and angry, but most of all a bit terrified. If she had looked a bit more hostile, the hidden ANBU that always trailed after the boy would have probably intervened, and she wouldn't have gotten out of it unscathed, even if all she had wanted to do was ruffle the kid's hair.
This was one of the things that had kept her from ending her act, the other being... Well.
Naruto had started following her around after that. All the time. Everywhere. She didn't mind, not really, but she had ended up getting attached to the boy, and her initial plan to try to keep her distance while keeping an eye on the events yet to unfold - information was good for business, and Konoha would become the center of the future changes very soon - had been flung off the window in favour of adopting the boy. Hell, she had never even wanted children, and here she was with a seven year old trailing behind her and talking her ears off.
After deciding that she wanted the boy in her life, she hadn't been able to drop her by now cemented persona. Her being a poor, sad - if filthy rich - widow, worked on her favour. She was unassuming enough to not be a threat, and she didn't have any affiliation with a shinobi clan, so letting her adopt the child wouldn't be seen as favouring any of them and, therefore, wouldn't result in political tensions. All in all, she was the perfect candidate to adopt Naruto, and the fact that she didn't know about his jinchuriki status was just a nice bonus.
It hadn't taken too much convincing - though a bit of money had passed some hands here and there, nothing to worry about - before she had a very happy Naruto in her home, with new furniture for his own room and all. Orange, of course.
And Kakashi had wanted to take him away from her.
Admittedly, leaving the kid alone had been irresponsible, but in her defense - she had been about to snap. She had been playing a part her whole life, ever since she was born to the Yuugen family, she had worn her mask as best as she could, and it had started to feel like giving it up hadn't been a choice anymore. Like she could never take it off after all that time. She had felt constricted under her own skin, itching to just- get out. Just for one night she had wanted to be free again, to act against everything that had shaped her in this second life, and then everything had gotten out of control and Kakashi had seen her.
She hadn't even managed to be worried about that, as drunk as she was, and even when she could tell that he was angry, she had only enjoyed pushing him further. Why had she done that? That guy could kill her with a snap of his fingers. True, he probably wouldn't but... The truth was that Kakashi, as much of a goof as he seemed, had been an assassin for quite a long time. He was probably still in ANBU, if her memory served her right, though Kishimoto had done a good job making the timeline as confusing as possible.
And he hated her now. Great.
She had just been so angry. How dare he try and get Naruto away from her? Yeah, she had been irresponsible for one night, but if things had gone on like in canon, Naruto would have been left alone in an apartment and Kakashi wouldn't have done anything about it. Was leaving the poor kid alone in an empty house preferable to having her take care of him? Kakashi had renounced his right to have a say in his upbringing when he had refused to take him in as a baby. He could have raised Naruto himself, and instead had decided to leave him in an orphanage, and she was the bad one?
She wasn't even going to think about Jiraiya, that good for nothing pervert-
She wasn't.
Still, what now? What would Kakashi do now that he had seen her break character? Would he tell the Hokage? Would an ANBU team come to take her baby boy away?
No, that wasn't going to happen. If anything, it should have happened yesterday night, and nobody had showed up...
Had they?
Ibara leapt out of the bed, tangling her legs in the sheets and almost tumbling down, but she managed to keep upright and rush out of the room. Naruto's room was right beside hers, and it didn't take long for her to reach the door. She stopped right outside, it was half open, but she couldn't see the bed. Steeling herself, she carefully opened it and heaved a sigh of relief, leaning on the doorframe.
Naruto was sleeping curled up, hugging a frog plushie to his chest.
She let herself slid down until she was sitting on the ground, feeling a wave of relief wash through her. She tried to will herself to move, to get up and make breakfast like every morning, but she found herself unable to do it. Her eyes were glued to the small lump under the blankets, and she feared that if she took her eyes off of him, even for one second, someone would take him away and she would never see him again.
Finally, Naruto stirred and fixed one sleepy eye on her slumped form, still sitting at the entrance of his room.
"Iba-nee? Why're you sitting there?" he asked, confused. "The floor is cold."
"Ah, I just had a nightmare, is all."
Naruto nodded sagely, nightmares were very scary. "Next time you should stay in bed with me, nee-san. You always let me sleep with you when I have nightmares, and they never bother me again, so you should do that too."
Ibara smiled weakly, she really didn't deserve this kid, did she? But he deserved all the love in the world, and it seemed that she was the only one up to the task, so she would persevere.
"Yeah," she said, quietly. "Yeah you're right, Naruto, next time I'll do that."
He beamed at her like clouds parting to reveal the sun, and she found that she couldn't afford to feel scared anymore.
Kakashi had a nebulous understanding of the benefits of having a good reputation. He had never bothered having one, mind you, but as socially inept as he was, he could still tell that people treated you differently when they had a better image of you. Nevermind that they probably hadn't had even one conversation with the real you, what mattered was the version they had created in their heads, and that was it.
Ibara was a master of creating those, he had realized. She had made a mask so perfect that insinuating that she was anything like the woman he had witnessed entering a brothel would be like insisting that the Nara were naturally dumb people.
He was impressed. And also really fucking annoyed.
She hadn't come up with the perfect story, one that left no room to poke holes in, no, but she hadn't needed to. Instead, she had woven a story that people wanted to believe. It is one thing to be presented with a logical argument and find it irrefutable, and another one altogether when you want to believe in this argument, as imposible as it might sound. And the truth was that, after the war, after the attack of the Kyuubi, people needed to believe that the world was good. That good things would happen to people who had suffered, because that meant that they would happen to them too. As such, the story of a young widow, who had found her happiness again in the form of a little orphan, was one that the people of Konoha ate up like starving dogs.
He, on the other hand, was known as friend-killer Kakashi, and that said enough about his position in the public eye. So not only would the Hokage not believe him if he came at him with his concerns about Ibara, but his hands would be tied even if he did. There was no way to extrincate Naruto from the claws of the woman without causing public outrage. Under the care of the woman, Naruto, so hated before, had grown to be one of the most polite kids in the village. One wouldn't think that such a thing mattered, but the lack of pranks, which had been perceived as hostility from the fox's vessel, had worked wonders for the general perception of their resident jinchuriki. It wasn't that the people loved him now, but they seemed to think that she had managed to tame the demon fox with 'a mother's love', or some utter stupidity like that. Civilians.
Nevertheless, trying to sepparate the woman from Naruto wouldn't be so easy as he had hoped.
…Did he even want to, anyways? True, her behaviour that night had been- lacking, but that had been a week ago, and as far as he knew, she hadn't done it again. He honestly wouldn't have had a problem with it if she had left him with a babysitter… (Who would want to be the babysitter of the demon fox. though?) Nevermind that, the heart of the matter was that he still hadn't managed to figure her out. There was something odd about her, though he couldn't put a finger on what, exactly that was. He couldn't explain it, she just felt other, like she didn't quite belong. And to top it all off, she seemed to have information that she shouldn't have. He didn't know what her intentions were, and until then, he wouldn't be able to relax knowing that his sensei's son was with her. How did she know so much about other hidden villages? They weren't exactly a vacation spot. And how had she known about the kyuubi attack? What else did she know?
The fact that he didn't know wether she was a very strange civilian or a spy frustrated him to no end, and he had found himself thinking about her too much as of lately. He had never been good leaving things he couldn't understand alone, though that focus had usually been reserved to the academy books when he was younger, and his work at ANBU later. Never a person, before. He supposed it was because she was an outsider. He knew almost every jōnin and chūnin in the village, and could probably answer any questions about them. He had shared his childhood and experiences growing up with most of them, but whatever had shaped Ibara Yuugen was a mystery to him. He knew she had come from Tetsu no Kuni, that was practically public knowledge, as she'd had to fill some forms before settling in the village. The fact that she was a widow was also true, if one were to believe what she had written. Furthermore, they always made thorough checks on the people that came to live in Konoha, and she had passed them without a hitch. Aside from the suspicions of a few, of course, but that was normal. Ninjas were a distrustful sort.
But still, he was certain that there was something more that she was hiding, even if all her paperwork checked out.
Kakashi sighed, sprawled on his sofa after a week long mission, and opened his Icha Icha book to read one of his favourite parts again. He had been assigned a new mission after a month of reporting his target having the same routine every day. Nevermind that that had been the case all days except for one; he'd had to leave that out or otherwise he would risk sounding like a paranoid lunatic. He would report it once he had tangible proof, and no sooner than that.
If he got tangible proof. It woud get harder, now that he wasn't tasked with shadowing her, and harder still considering that, as an ANBU captain, he would have to take missions out of Konoha more often than not. Being one of the Hokage's personal ANBU was out of the question though, he would have to follow him around everywhere and then he would be right where he started, with no time to keep an eye on Yuugen. Not to mention that his standing as a shinobi wasn't quite stable enough for that as of lately.
Kakashi sighed yet again and turned his attention back towards the book, overthinking would do him no good, and the problematic woman would still be there when he was finished. The scene was mild enough, considering the book it was in. Okami was an ANBU agent that pushed everyone away in fear of hurting them, but his efforts were useless in the face of Amai, a kind young woman that worked as an attendant for the Lord he had been tasked to protect. The book had its fair share of political intruigue, but if you asked Kakashi, the best part was the love triangle between Okami, Amai and the Lord. On this scene in particular, Okami had been injured while investigating an assasination atempt on the Lord, and disoriented by the blood loss, had stumbled into Amai's room. The young woman had immediately fallen to her knees beside him, overcame with worry, not to mention that she had just taken a bath, and Jiraiya described – in great detail, and for more paragraphs that was probably necessary – her suggestive state of undress, wearing only a towel around her 'generous curves'. Kakashi himself was more into the whole hurt/comfort thing, but he had to admit that the gratuitous descriptions of wet heaving bossoms weren't unwelcome.
He had been reading a very interesting description of how Amai had helped Okami limp to the bed, only to fall on top of him when she managed to get him to lay down, when it happened. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he projected himself on the protagonist. Everyone did that. He had, however, never tried to imagine someone specific as Amai. She had always changed faces everytime he read the book. Sometimes she looked like that one pretty girl he had seen that morning, sometimes that other one he had crossed paths with on his way to the Hokage Tower, and sometimes nobody in particular, but she had never looked like anyone he knew personally. This time, as he had been picturing the scene in his head, the image of Amai had morped. Brown straight hair had turned into wild black locks that curled playfully down her shoulders and into the dip of her breasts, her tanned skin had become paler, with a single mole over the right breast substituting all her previous freckles. And her soft face – surprised at falling on top of Okami – had morphed into one he knew all too well. He caught himself before he, as Okami, could flip positions and pin the conjured image of Yuugen Ibara against the bed.
Kakashi sat on his couch, eyes lost at some point in the distance, and snapped his book shut.
Well. That was- a thing. That had happened.
It probably had been due to the exhaustion of coming back from a mission. He hadn't slept yet, after all. And he had been thinking an awful lot about her lately – not in a romantic way, of course. Just- in a target kind of way – so it was normal that his brain would drift there naturally.
Or maybe he was going insane.
Huh. Now that was a thought. How many times had the Hokage insisted on him 'taking time to heal his mind'? After the death of his team, Sarutobi-sama had been the first one to suggest that he took some time off for himself, and Minato had thought it had been a fantastic idea. Kakashi had been offended then, and later, after Minato's death, he had only stared dispassionately at the Hokage when he had suggested it yet again. The thought of having all that time, with nothing but his thoughts to fight, had been less than pleasant. But now... Now he had a project- No, a mission. Even if everyone else refused to see the truth behind Yuugen Ibara, he would.
Sarutobi Hiruzen wasn't a fool. This was a fact that people around him tended to forget, as his days of being the God of shinobi blended into the background, but he was still a ninja nonetheless.
So, of course, when Hatake had come to him asking for an excused absence to finally let himself heal after all the trauma, Sarutobi knew that he was full of bullshit. Hatake Kakashi had never given even the slightless of shits for his health, much less if it wasn't an actual tangible wound, and he wasn't going to start now.
However.
The fact that Hatake was willing to stay in the village, doing absolutely nothing, for an extended period of time, was nothing short of a miracle, and he would be a fool to pass up this kind of opportunity. He could actually try to find out what was going on inside the boy's head but, in all honestly, who had the time for that? Hiruzen didn't, that's for sure. What he had in spades was a handful of displeased clan heads to juggle after letting a civilian – and a foreign one at that – adopt the container of the nine tails. The civilian council had been delighted by this turn of events, thinking that the woman had been a good influence on the boy, the shinobi one... not so much.
He had killed two birds with one stone by assigning Hatake to shadow her. On one hand, Hatake's protectiveness of the boy, bordering on an unhealthy obsession, would be assuaged. Hiruzen had even included him in the decision – out of respect for Minato, and because that way he would avoid future disagreements – and he had been pleasantly surprised when Hatake hadn't vetoed the adoption - though with the condition of keeping the woman under surveillance himself, which had gone along with Hiruzen's plans quite well.
On the other hand, by putting her under constant observation, he would reassure the clan heads that they had nothing to fear from the woman. Hatake's reports, always thorough, if brief, had worked wonders for that, though there were still some shinobi that thought that putting Konoha's most dangerous weapon in the hands of a civilian woman would soften it.
And by 'some shinobi' he meant Danzō.
His old friend was being, even though Hiruzen was loathe to admit it, a pain in his wrinkly ass. Therefore, when Hatake came to him – not 'was dragged to him' or 'reluctantly walked into his office', no, willingly came to him – asking for an undefined excused absence, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Whatever it was that had made the boy change his opinion was a blessing, and Hiruzen would forever be grateful. Now that he didn't have to worry about Hatake getting his whole team killed – not that the kid wasn't a professional, but he was mentally unstable – he could direct that energy into something more productive, maybe even spend more time with his friends and family. He had been neglecting them, and seeing Naruto finally find a family of his own, and Hatake giving himself a much needed break, had made him sentimental.
Yes, perhaps it was time to pay more attention to the people important to him. These were times of peace, after all, and he should enjoy it while it lasted.
The week after what she had called the 'so, hey, I'm terrible' incident or 'shit' for short, had been nerve wracking. She had spent it in a constant state of paranoia, thinking that everyone she crossed in the street knew her secret and was pretending not to know for some horrible reason, or that everytime someone had a whispered conversation near her it was about her escapade the other night. Her levels of anxiety had reached new and exciting heights, and hiding it all from Naruto so that he wouldn't worry, and from the public eye so that no one thought she was acting suspicious, had left her so exhausted that she hadn't even been able to muster enough energy to have nightmares.
All in all, this sucked, and if she ever had the opportunity, she was going to punch Kakashi in the dick.
Thankfully, she had seen hide nor hair of the copy nin the whole week, and that had allowed her to push the panic into a tiny little corner of her mind and leave it there to hopefully die a slow and painful death. Meanwhile, as she waited for this to happen, she busied herself cooking and overanalyzing the socioeconomical state of every country that sparked her interest. Her notes on future events and how they would shape the economy had become so extensive that she had managed to fill an entire notebook, which she had stashed in a safe hidden place, and had to start on the second. No one could say that she couldn't make paranoid be productive.
"What are you cooking?" A pause, followed by a tiny, hopeful, gasp. "Ramen?!"
Ibara almost felt bad for saying no. Almost. He couldn't survive only on ramen, little boys needed a balanced diet. "We're having tempura and grilled mackerel today."
"Awwww, but I don't like tempura. The squash ones are yucky..."
Hearing Naruto fall silent mid-sentence, Ibara turned around and waited, still peeling a carrot. Naruto's eyes had glazed over, and he was staring at the table with a dopey vacant expression. It had been scary the first time it had happened, but by now it was such a common ocurrence that she had gotten used to it. Finally, Naruto came back to himself and pouted, still looking at the table.
"Kurama wants to know if there'll be red pepper, he likes it because it's sorta sweet," he said, looking up. Ibara laughed, picking up one of the vegetables from the paper bag to show it to the boy and, by extension, Kurama. It was odd to not be able to talk directly to the third occupant of the house, even if he didn't communicate often, but they managed.
It had taken some time to coax the fox to acknowledge Naruto, much less give him his name, but the boy was nothing but stubborn and, in the end, the fox had lost that battle. She was happy to see that, even if she couldn't help in the fights that loomed over Naruto's future, she still could lend a hand somehow. Knowing that she had the power to at least keep the loneliness at bay for him and Kurama a little sooner made her feel useful in a way that being, by all intents and purposes, an information broker, didn't.
The sound of three, evenly distanced, knocks pulled her from her thoughts, and she cleaned her hands on her apron as she went to see who it could be. It wasn't so late in the evening that visiting someone without previously letting them know would be too impolite, but it was odd for her to recieve visits. For all her 'popularity', people's fear of the demon fox was still too present for them to try and get close, even if most people had stopped being openly hostile towards Naruto.
She hadn't known what to expect, but certainly seeing Kakashi at the other side of the door, hand poised as if to knock again, wasn't it. "No, thanks," she said, as he lowered his arm and blinked lazily at her, and for the second time, she closed the door on his face.
Notes:
Sometimes, when destiny comes knocking on your door, it's better to say 'no, thanks', and nope the hell out.
Comments keep the writing fire going, just sayin'... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Chapter 3: Mistakes were made
Summary:
In which Kakashi is so stupid that I'm honestly impressed at how he's still breathing, all things considered.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Kakashi had never been one to drink, but he found himself mourning Hound, as odd as that sounded.
It wasn't healthy, the way he had been hiding under the mask, shedding everything that was 'Kakashi' and putting on Hound's skin. When he was in ANBU garb, he wasn't himself anymore, and Hound had no teammates to mourn, no father to miss, only a mission and an objective. He moved forward like a vector, unburdened by a past that he didn't have, unbothered by the future.
And now he was dead.
Well, he wasn't. Not exactly, and Kakashi might be being a little dramatic – he could go back to ANBU whenever he wished, and his mask would be waiting for him. The thought of once again being Kakashi though, with everything that it entailed, made an unwelcome pressure build on his chest. It was the same feeling you have when you fall unexpectedly, except the moment, that pull, was stretching far longer than it should. It wasn't accompanied by trepidation, or fear, only wariness and a feeling of exhaustion that seeped deep into his bones.
So he drank, and the alcohol helped numb everything into a pleasant buzz in the back of his mind.
It was in this state of stupor that he started thinking about his next course of action. He had been rash in his decision, following a half-assed plan. Like a dog might chase a stick that you pretended to throw but kept hidden behind your back. What was he going to do now? He had time to continue deciphering Ibara Yuugen, but how was he going to do that? He had been following her day and night for a month, and he barely had anything. He couldn't just wait for her to slip again, she would be wary from now on. Even if he hadn't even hinted at her being watched, she would have put two and two together after that conversation, and she wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
No, he would need a more direct approach, passively waiting for the information to fall on his lap wouldn't do.
Then again, he was out of ideas. Dealing with the targets had never been his forte when gathering information, in fact, the less he interacted with them, the better, and that strategy had proven to be useful until now.
Kakashi sighed yet again, and took another sip of the bottle, feeling the way the burning liquid traveled down his throat and into his stomach. He had never liked the sensation, neither that or the way the alcohol dulled his senses and made his thoughts sluggish. He was more of a coffee lover, which Obito had endlessly despised, all the while drinking that terrible leaf water that he called tea.
Hmmm... What would Obito do?
Kakashi found himself snorting, a sound half-way between derision and fondness. Simple, Obito would befriend the woman, and she would just pour her life story unto him like one poured sake into a cup. He would make it look easy, too, like forging relationships with total strangers wasn't painstakingly hard. For him, it probably hadn't been.
What did people usually do to get closer to other people, anyways?
He suppressed a shiver as he remembered Gai's many attempts and vowed to do absolutely none of that. It had worked, sort of. He suppossed Gai's perseverance had won in the end, but Kakashi had been an apathetic, if slightly prone to righteous anger, kid. Not a woman in her twenties. If he continuously appeared out of nowhere to challenge her to rock, paper, scissors she would end up asking for a restraining order against him, which would be terribly embarrassing. Not to mention that it would destroy any credibility he had left.
No, that was out of the question.
He had a vague memory of visiting distant relatives with his father, once. Sakumo had had a disagreement with one of his aunts, and he'd gone to her house in an effort to make amends. 'We don't have much family left', he had said by way of an explanation when Kakashi had asked, annoyed, why was he the one apologizing and not the other way around. He'd had no idea what they had argued about, but in his mind, his father had always been right. Until he wasn't.
Nevermind that, now. What matters is that, as a show of goodwill, Sakumo had taken a present with him. Kakashi couldn't remembered what it was - something boring that his great aunt would have found appropiate, a potted plant, probably. A new expensive teacup.
Maybe he could do the same? Just- show up there and what? Be nice? Apologize?
What had Obito done to get people to like him? He had smiled a lot, but other than that, it was a mystery to Kakashi.
He went to take another swig of the bottle and found, disappointed, that it was empty. Where had all his sake gone? Oh well, he should just- Yeah he should buy her something nice and like- go visit. People did that all of the time; visit each other. That was a thing.
He woke up the next day with a killer headache and Pakkun sitting on his chest, judging him.
"You look like shit, kid."
Ah, Pakkun, he had the tact of a politician. "Thanks," Kakashi tried to say. It came out as a groan. When had he summoned Pakkun, anyways? He didn't remember calling the pug.
As if reading his mind, Pakkun let out a huff of laughter that resembled a bark more than anything else. "You summoned me yesterday, drunk out of your mind, to – and I quote – 'discuss the plan'."
Kakashi closed his eyes. Perhaps, if he pretended to be dead, Pakkun would leave him alone with his bad choices. At least, he thought, he hadn't decided to carry out the 'plan'. That would have gone well, just appear out of nowhere with a potted plant, drunk as hell, and say 'hey can we be friends, if you say yes I'll give you this ficus and we can share our secrets, you start'. Small mercies.
"You should do it."
"What." Kakashi was pulled out of his thoughts by Pakkun's terrible suggestion. Surely, he had heard wrong.
The pug shrugged, still sitting on his chest like Kakashi was his new personal cushion. "It wasn't that bad of a plan."
Kakashi narrowed his eyes. 'Bad' didn't even come close to describe it. It was terrible, it was a disgrace. It was the bastard baby of a bottle of sake and his chronic inability to comprehend human nature, and if he had anything to say in he matter, it would never see the light.
Kakashi knocked again, slightly annoyed, he sincerely hoped she wouldn't make a habit out of this.
She opened the door a smidgeon, peeking through the crack with a narrowed eye.
"What," she bit out, "do you want?"
Kakashi lifted the fruit basket so she could see it. "I've got a fruit basket?" He stated the obvious, hoping it would work somehow. He couldn't believe Pakkun had talked him into this. How had that even happened? The ninken liked to say that the best way to learn was to make mistakes, but the truth of the matter was that he was equal parts a sadistic ass and an enabler, and that made for a disastrous cocktail. Kakashi bet he was laughing right now, telling the rest of the pack what Kakashi had agreed to do.
"I can see that," Yuugen said, sounding defensive. Her voice had the slightest tinge of confusion.
"Can I... come in?"
The eye behind the door narrowed further and a little crease formed between her perfectly plucked eyebrows. "No."
Fair enough. He couldn't leave now though, he had already made an idiot out of himself, he might as well see it through. Also, he knew for a fact that she wouldn't want to have this conversation in public, which worked on his favour.
At least something did.
He forced a goofy smile on his face. She couldn't see it with his mask in place, but he hoped it was a good impression of the apologetic smile Obito had always had when he arrived late and Rin berated him. "Ah, I was hoping we could talk." He made a show of looking at both sides of the street, making sure nobody was listening, before leaning in to whisper, "about the other nigh-?"
He hadn't managed to finish the sentence when a hand shot out from behind the door and grabbed the collar of his flack jacket, pulling him in. Before he knew what had happened, he found himself inside the house, being glared at by the short woman. The satisfaction that her falling for his simple ploy had brought lasted too little, as he was soon the victim of an accusing finger forcefully impacting against his sternum.
"If you," Yuugen emphatized this by rising her finger and then bringing it back down with a vengeance, "think for a moment, that I'm just going to cower like- like some ignorant farmer girl-" She cut herself off and her glare became even more heated. She had leaned forward, whether it was because she had instinctively adopted a threatening stance, or because she was whispering and wanted him to hear her better, was yet to be seen. Kakashi didn't feel threatened, in any case. Amused, maybe. Offended that she would think that he would come to threaten her in a place where there could be witnesses, definitely.
"-I know my rights!" she finished her tirade, unaware that Kakashi's thoughts had drifted off a while ago. Her voice had rised in volume without her noticing, and it had drawn the attention of a surprise guest.
Naruto poked his head out of the door to what Kakashi assumed was the house proper. They were currently standing on the entrance, a pair of small discarded shoes on the floor next to another, properly positioned, and one other pair of guest slippers to their right. There was a difference in floor levels, a lower space, made of stone and level with the door that lead outside, was where kakashi supposed people left their shoes. Then there were two wooden steps that led to a slightly higher floor, this one made of wood. On this level and to the left, was the door Naruto was peeking through, the sunrays illuminating him from behind.
Ibara followed his gaze and froze still as a statue. Kakashi could see her trying to keep her breathing even, no doubt because she didn't want Naruto to notice anything wrong. He turned towards the boy, the odd sensation from yesterday night returning to his chest – he looked so much like Minato – but a hand grabbed his forearm with a vice-like grip. He looked at Yuugen out of the corner of his eye. She had turned a bit so her back would be facing Naruto, but Kakashi could still see her face. Her pupils were small dots on her dark eyes. Kakashi had seen those eyes before behind ANBU masks, when they were wild with fear and desperation. He had seen an ANBU with those eyes tear a man's throat off with their bare hands after being stabbed in a lung. He had seen them in a wolf trapped in a snare, chewing its own leg off to escape.
"Don't," she said. The word was quiet, but it was heard perfectly in the silence. It could have been either a plea or a threat, Kakashi wasn't sure, but he was certain that he didn't want to find out.
With a calmness he didn't feel, he gently eased her fingers from his forearm and let her hand go. Her manicured nails left five crescent moons on his skin. It fell limp at her side, but her shoulders tensed even further. The boy's gaze shifted uncomfortably from Yuugen to Kakashi to Yuugen's hand, before finally landing back on Kakashi with a frown, his tiny hand tightening on the doorframe.
"Yo," Kakashi saluted, with fake cheer. His eye crinkled with his smile, but it never quite left Yuugen's tense frame. Naruto didn't answer, instead turning his head just so, like he was listening to somebody else talking. Kakashi fidgeted. "I brought a fruit basket," he tried, pitifully.
Naruto's attention finally returned to Kakashi, and the boy scrunched up his nose. "Ewww."
Not the reaction Kakashi had hoped for, if he was to be honest. Didn't children like sweet things? Fruits were sweet and healthy, not to mention that this basket in particular had been quite expensive. It had fruits imported from various other countries, even.
Nevermind the stupid fruit basket, he needed to deescalate the situation, and fast. It wasn't like either Yuugen or Naruto posed a threat to him, but he would rather avoid a confrontation when it was unnecesary, and he didn't want to leave a bad impression on the kid. But then again, she probably thought he had come for the boy, which wasn't at all what he wanted her to think right now. He should have thought about that. Why didn't he think about that? It had been a week since they talked, true, but it would still be fresh on her mind, even if she had been drunk at the time.
Would it be better if he suggested talking alone with her? Or would she think it was a distraction so another shinobi would get Naruto out of the house? Would approaching Naruto help? Sage, he was shit at this socialising thing. No wonder he has never been assigned that many infiltration missions that had to do with interacting with civilians. He could infiltrate an organization alright but this was out of his depth.
"It's rude to stare at people, you know? Iba-nee always says so."
Naruto still had his nose scrunched up and his mouth was contorted in a pout. Shit, had he been staring? How long had he been thinking? Shit, shit. He shouldn't have come here, it was a stupid idea. This was the last time he let Pakkun talk him into anything.
"Ah, maybe I should just-" Kakashi had started to back away towards the door when he heard a tired sigh and the fruit basket was taken from his hands.
"Well?" said Yuugen, walking up the steps with the basket in hand. "Are you going to stay there all day? Naruto, go fech our guest a pair of slippers his size, would you? They should be in the guest room."
Yuugen left them, ruffling Naruto's hair as she passed beside him, and the boy himself stood still for a few more seconds, eyeing Kakashi suspiciously. Kakashi found himself getting nervous for some reason. He shoved his sweaty hands in his pockets, gave the boy a close-eyed smile, and tried not to think about how much his expression right now reminded him of Kushina when she was deciding whether to scold him or not. There hadn't been that many things to scold him about, when he had been a kid, but he had admittedly forgotten to eat a few times, dirstracted as he was with his training, and she had always hated that. It had worried her, but Kakashi hadn't tried to change his bad habits. It was nice to have someone that worried.
Naruto finally seemed to have filled his glaring quota, leaving through the door Yuugen had exited before with a brief nod towards Kakashi. He waited only for a few minutes, and then the boy was back with a pair of fuzzy, heart-patterned slippers. They were hot pink, and the red hearts clashed horribly against the background. Kakashi eyed the pair of guest slippers he had seen before, they were too small for him to wear. Who did they belong to, anyways? As far as he knew, there wasn't anyone that visited so often that it would garner leaving a pair of guest slippers there, waiting. Well, this wasn't the moment to analyze that, he would have to wear the horrendous slippers.
Kakashi sighed in defeat, and Naruto handed them to him with a smug look. He had no doubt that Yuugen had had something to do with this, and she was passive-aggressively making sure he knew she was still displeased with him.
The interior of the house was spacious and well illuminated. It felt odd to see it from this perspective, when he had spent a month watching it from the outside. The warm, golden light of the setting sun bathed everything in sight, coming from the panel doors to the garden, which were wide open to let a slight breeze flow through the house. It smelled like jasmin, and something sweet and citrusy. Oranges?
He was led by Naruto to a low table, where they both sat to wait as Yuugen puttered around the kitchen. The open space allowed them to see exactly what she was doing, which helped Kakashi relax, if only marginally. It wasn't that he believed she would poison him, but he couldn't help but be wary by force of habit. Soon after they sat, the smell of tea wafted in. It was rich, but somehow thicker than he expected. It didn't smell like the green tea Kakashi was used to.
Naruto was quick to get up to help Yuugen carry back the tray with tea cups and a couple of small jugs, and another with snacks. She combed his hair with her fingers, a soft, fond smile blooming on her face, and Kakash felt like he was intruding on an important moment. He averted his eyes.
The tea, as it turned out, wasn't green, or any blend Kakashi had ever seen before. "It's a speciality from Tetsu no Kuni, it's called black tea," she explained as she poured it. The curiosoty must have been apparent on his face. Kakashi had heard of the red tea they had in Tsuchi no Kuni, but he had to admit that he had never heard of this one. He observed as Yuugen poured it into two cups – they were made of white porcelain, with an odd shape and a small handle on the side. They looked expensive – and looked at him before pouring the third one.
"Are you going to want any milk?"
Milk? Was that what the small jug they had brought had? He had assumed it was cold water, in case the tea turned out to be too hot. He wasn't sure he wanted tea. Did people have their tea with milk? Was that a normal thing to do in Tetsu no Kuni? He had never heard of it. Then again, he had never had black tea before. "Sure," he finally answered. If that was the correct way to drink this particular blend, who was he to judge?
Yuugen nodded to herself and filled the third cup halfway like the others, then she poured the milk too, and the dark liquid turned a creamy brown. After that, she lifted the lid of a small container, revealing an assortment of white cubes.
"One or two?" she asked once more. At kakashi's blank stare, she elaborated. "They're sugar cubes."
Oh. Well, then. "Just the one, please."
As he watched her add the sugar – one cube for him and two for her and Naruto – Kakashi couldn't help but feel uneasy. Compared to her attitude from moments before, she was being very civil. Too civil, perhaps. He stared into his cup, holding the delicate, white handle between his fingers. It couldn't be poisoned. It would make no sense to poison him when she was trying to pass as a normal civilian. Besides, he had seen her prepare everything, and she had poured the tea and the milk from the same recipients that theirs had come from. Had she developed an immunity by ingesting low doses of the poison and then proceeded to add those same doses to naruto's food over the course of the last month so that he would be immune too? Was te poison in the sugar cubes? But then, how would she differentiate the poisoned ones from the rest?
In his small panic, Kakashi realized belatedly that Yuugen had left the table and was currently cutting some of the fruits he had brought into slices, and that Naruto was looking at him. His stare was intense. Kakashi drank the tea.
It was entirely too sweet for his liking, permeating his mouth in a way that told him he wouldn't be getting rid of the taste any time soon. Despite this, he forced a smile and gave an appreciative hum, which Naruto deemed satisfactory, if his answering grin was anyhting to go by. Yuugen, on the other hand, shot him a discreet look that told him exactly how much she believed him.
All in all, he thought everything was going well enough- until it wasn't. This, apparently, was the moment Mitarashi Anko stepped through the garden doors in all her obnoxious glory.
Right this moment.
There wasn't any other sage-damned time in the whole day. She had to come to this place, for some reason Kakashi couldn't fathom, while he was here, working on his self-assigned mission.
Why.
Mitarashi waltzed in like she owned the place – which wasn't all that different from how she behaved anywhere alse – and proceeded to ignore Kakashi's presence as she ruffled Naruto's hair, making him giggle, and then sauntered towards Yuugen. "My love, my darling, I'm home! How is my beloved wife doing on this fantastic, wonderful day?"
"I'm not your wife," Yuugen answered, with the practiced patience of someone that had had this same conversation many times before. "And you don't have to act like that every time you want to stay for dinner."
Mitarashi merely pouted, muttering something about a yuki-onna, before her gaze came to rest on Kakashi. "My, my, and what have we here? We have a visitor!"
"No," Yuugen corrected, still cutting fruit, "I have a visitor, and you are going to go put on your slippers before you track any more dirt on my floor."
Kakashi's mind burned with questions, but he knew that asking right now wouldn't give him any answers, so he chose to take another sip of his too-sweet drink and wait to see if he could gather some information by observing their interactions. He should have known that it wasn't meant to be.
"So, tell me, Hatake, what are you doing here on this fine evening?" Mitarashi asked as soon as she was back. At least that told him who the slippers belonged to.
In hindsight, expecting Mitarashi Anko to ignore him in favour of Yuugen had been rather stupid. In his defense, though, Mitarashi was known for latching onto whatever picked her interest like a dog with a bone, and it was clear who the proverbial bone was here. Then again, Kakashi hadn't kept his distrust towards Yuugen a secret, so finding him here, drinking tea of all things, must look rather out of place.
"I was merely visiting," Kakashi stated. It was the truth, after all. She had asked him what he was doing here, not why.
Out of the corner of his eye, Kakashi saw Naruto leave the table to go and help Yuugen in the kitchen. It seemed like she had decided to leave her guests to their own devices in favour of preparing dinner. Mitarashi followed his line of sight and her smug smile widened like dough being stretched. "Oh? Since when are you two that close?"
Kakashi risked another glance at Yuugen to see if she would answer, but it seemed that she was rather stubborn in her decision of being completely unhelpful. He refrained from huffing in annoyance. Fine, let's see what she did, then, when his answers grew too close to the truth for comfort. "I had the pleasure of getting to know her better about a week ago."
The rythmic sound of the knife stuttered for a second, almost imperceptible, before resuming its movements. "It was rather nice of him to drop by and introduce himself," Yuugen said. Her smile, when she directed it at him, was sharp enough to cut the air between them.
Mitarashi laughed, an arm slung over the back of the chair as she leaned back to see Yuugen better, Kakashi forgotten for the time being. "No way, are we talking about the same guy? Kakashi? Nice? I don't think I've ever heard those words together in the same phrase."
"Oh, but he was. And so polite too. He even brought me this fruit basket today." She motioned towards the basket with the knife, her wrist loose and comfortable.
Mitarashi looked at it in wonder, then back at him as if he had grown a second head. Kakashi shrugged in an attempt to feel less awkward. "I thought I'd drop by to say hi after I got back from my last mission."
Another half-truth, he hoped Mitarashi wouldn't bother to read too much into it, though, by the looks of it, she had another thing in mind. Her smile came back with a vengeance, this time sly and knowing. "Ooh, ho, ho. I see," she said, looking back and forth between him and Yuugen. Kakashi didn't like what her expression was implying. She wiggled her eyebrows at him, regardless of his displeasure. "I do have to admit that she has this quality to herself that just keeps you coming."
"Back," Yuugen added, almost admonishing. "You meant coming back."
"Sure." Mitarashi shrugged, but her grin never wavered, and her eyes never left Kakashi's face, which had turned red at the innuendo despite his best efforts.
"That is not what-" he started, only to be interrupted by Yuugen. He wouldn't deny that he was grateful for it, it was taking a lot of effort not to stutter, and Mitarashi would pound on that show of weakness like a hungry hound.
"Kakashi has been a perfect gentleman," she said, though when he looked at her he saw, much to his dismay, that she was wearing a bashful expression on her face. What was that for? She couldn't be feeling flustered; he had seen her spend a whole night in the red-light district wearing a rather revealing outfit. It was impossible that Mitarashi's comment had affected her like that. "He merely, ah, expressed his concern. At the prospect of me rising Naruto on my own, that is."
At that last statement, Mitarashi's face lit up like an exploding tag. "Oh? Kakashi, is it? Not Hatake? You sly fox," she said, turning towards Kakashi, and her next comment finally made him realize what Yuugen's game was. "Making your move after only a week! And who knew you would be a sucker for the old-fashioned ways?"
Oh. Oh. That little- So this was what she had been aiming for. It was brilliant, he had to admit. If she made everyone believe that Kakashi had started courting her proper – courting, of all things, he shuddered to even think about it – that would explain his sudden interest in her as something other than suspicion, and it would prevent other shinobi from deciding that perhaps there was something worth investigating. Furthermore, if she rejected his perceived 'advances' she would have a perfect excuse to avoid him, and it would provide an explanation as to why she could feel uneasy in his presence. And if he kept insisting in investigating her and was seen around her too much after that, it would be seen as him not being able to take a 'no' for an answer and it would damage his reputation even further.
It was clever, he had to give credit where credit was due.
However... two could play the same game, and she just gave him the perfect excuse to keep investigating her without rising suspicions. As long as he played the part of the polite, love-struck idiot, nobody would really bother to look into it deeper. Besides, as famous as she was for her love of proper manners, she wouldn't be able to reject him without a valid reason without making a sizeable dent in her well-constructed mask. It was considered rude to reject a suitor within the first three months of courting, after all, and he doubted that it would take longer than that for him to crack her open like an egg.
All in all, it was the idoneous excuse to keep a close eye on her, and she had handed it to him wrapped and with a ribbon on top.
"What can I say," he answered, leaning his cheek on his hand as he looked at Yuugen with what he hoped was a dreamy expression. "Everyone has their weaknesses."
Mitarashi threw her head back as she laughed. Knowing her, the whole village would know by tomorrow.
Notes:
Look this is crack what did you expect.
He's young, he's stupid, he's ugly, he's going to give me 200 bucks.
Chapter 4: Just gals being pals, literally
Summary:
What time is it? Anko loving hours, all the time, every day
Anyways, she has the vernacular of a sailor so, yeah, swear words (but not in front of Naruto, don't worry, he's baby)
Notes:
Thanks to this chapter I have realized that if I were to suddenly appear in the world of Naruto, and I met Anko, my gay brain would malfunction and I would die immediately
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Admittedly, the social life of a shinobi wasn't always a priority. It was always encouraged, of course, to be close to your team, that much was true, but the fact was that it was rare to form a friendship outside of your teammates. In some cases, where the shinobi in question worked for something like, say, ANBU or T&I, the creation of such bonds was especially difficult. Add to this being shunned because your old shishō turned out to be a traitor and fled the village and, well...
In short, Mitarashi Anko had no friends, and it fucking sucked.
Not that she wanted them, she liked to think that she was smarter than to trust somebody else, knowing what that brought. But that didn't change the fact that not having anyone to talk to was mind-numbingly boring.
This all changed, of course, when she met Manjushage.
It was a pseudonym, obviously, but that didn't matter, because they were the most interesting thing that had happened in ages.
"Investigate them, and report everything you learn to me directly," her commander officer, Morino Ibiki, had said. It was, quite possibly, the first time she had been assigned something mildly important since Orochimaru left, which was exciting in on itself. Apparently, some of their shinobi had noticed the growth of a new web of spies. Nothing worrying, as of yet, but it wouldn't hurt to know all the players in the game, as small as they may be.
This newcomer to the chess board acted under the name Manjushage, and their identity remained a very frustrating secret. In one of the margins of the report Morino had given her, there was a written addition. 'Agents seem to avoid mine,' it read. Anko recognized the terrible handwriting as Jiraiya's.
The investigation, as promising as it had been at first, turned out to be full of dead ends and false herrings. Whoever Manjushage was, they knew how to cover their tracks pretty well. The messages passed through an impressive number of people, sometimes circling back to the same person, before Anko could no longer track them. It was frustrating, to say the least. And then, one day, a letter arrived.
It was in a format she had never seen before, folded like an accordion instead of rolled in a scroll, like she was used to. The rectangular paper that contained it was sealed with transparent wax and, preserved under it, a simplified version of a spider lily had been drawn in red ink. It had been given to her by a bartender after one of her missions outside Konoha, when her team was distracted, and she had pocketed it without thinking before any of them could notice. She stayed and drank with them for the rest of the night, celebrating the completion of their mission and acting as if nothing had happened. The letter burned where it was tucked away, waiting to be opened.
She didn't add this tiny detail to the report of the mission. If pressed for an answer, she would say that she was curious, but if she were to be truly honest, she didn't really know why she did what she did. Maybe it was because of her isolation. Maybe it was because nobody had really reached out to her, personally, before. Everyone had been interested in Orochimaru's genius, back then, and had overlooked her as if she wasn't even there. Then, after that, she had stood out enough to be noticed, although for all the wrong reasons.
The letter, though, it was hers. And whatever the reasons she'd had to keep it, the fact stood that there was no going back now.
She opened it as soon as she was safe in the privacy of her home. Her tiny, one-room apartment had been covered in privacy seals, so much so that there was barely any wall visible under the dark ink. Anko groaned when she realized that its contents were encrypted, but started the arduous process of deciphering it nonetheless.
I am devastated to inform you that I am already taken, but I do appreciate the interest.
The sole line made her let out a bark of laughter, much to her annoyance. She had spent three days agonizing over this letter, and an additional evening cracking its code, for this? She got rid of the evidence, angry at herself for thinking that it would be anything important. Of course it was a mockery, Manjushage had been toying with her for almost half a year now, and she was no closer to getting any information about them.
She tried to forget about it, pouring herself into her work. Then, a month later, the second letter arrived.
Are you aware that this mission is basically useless? It's almost like they're trying to keep you busy looking for me so you won't cause trouble.
Her blood boiled. Then, it dawned on her that Manjushage was right; this mission was just to make her feel like she was finally starting to be trusted, which was why every other mission she had been assigned was so inane in comparison. A part of her had known this, of course, but that didn't mean that it hurt any less.
Anko screamed in frustration, knowing the sound would not escape her apartment.
I don't understand why the Icha Icha books are so popular. This is the worst smut I've ever read in my life. Why would anyone think that 'buoyant boobs' is something acceptable to write? Does he even know what 'buoyant' means?
Anko stared down at the new note in her hands, uncomprehending. Well, not exactly. She understood what they meant, that book was an abomination and the protagonist had the sex appeal of a long-cold corpse, but she couldn't understand why Manjushage would rant about it to her.
More letters kept coming after that, though, not a mention of Anko's mission within them. They were usually very mundane, either about a tea shop that they liked – with a frustrating lack of details – or about this cute dog they had seen the other day. Finally, Anko succumbed. She gave her answering letter – written in the same code as the others – to one of their spies as she passed near them during a mission, and hoped that she had been discreet enough. She didn't want anyone thinking that she was giving secret information to her old mentor.
The message was simple. 'It looks like you're the interested one, Manju-tan,' it said. The cutesy nickname had been a last addition made out of spite, but when the new answer arrived, the spider lily had been replaced by a brown-inked drawing of a pair of manju.
Busted , it said. And I thought I was being subtle. For shame.
The sarcasm practically dripped out of it, but she was surprised to find that it had earned a smile from her nonetheless. On Anko's next answer, she had crudely drawn a dango stick by way of a signature.
We should write one ourselves.
It had been a passing comment, a part of a longer letter, but Anko decided that it wasn't such a bad idea after all. They had both been talking extensively about the many things they would improve if they had written the Icha Icha series, so why not co-write a book of their own?
You're right , she answered, we should.
This had been, ultimately, how 'Whispering Lilies' had been born, co-written by the upcoming authors Manju-tan and Dango-chi. They hadn't exactly been planning on publishing it while writing it but... it would have been a crime to keep it to themselves.
I am in Konoha. Meet me at Hanazakari tonight?
It had been years since Anko started exchanging letters with Manjushage, but this was the first time they had given her any sort of personal information, much less their whereabouts.
Hanazakari was the most expensive brothel in all Konoha, and probably also the one that would offer the most privacy. The letter didn't expand on what, exactly, Manjushage wanted to do there, but the place kind of spoke for itself. Except- Anko liked to think that she had come to know Manjushage's preferences pretty well these past years, even if she didn't know where they were or what they looked like, and she honestly doubted that they were inviting her over for a hot tryst in a brothel.
So, had something happened? Did they need Anko's help?
...was it a trap?
Well, she wouldn't know unless she went there, and it wasn't like she had much time to think about it. The irony of her finally meeting the person she had been supposed to find years ago right when the mission had finally been put on-hold wasn't lost on her. Perhaps Manjushage knew, it was a very real possibility.
She took a shower and changed into civilian clothes, feeling odd in something not interlaced with mesh for protection. The fabric seemed too light, like a gust of wind could blow her away, and she didn't feel comfortable being so unprotected. Then again, she told herself, she was inside the village, and if she went to Hanazakari in shinobi clothing she would draw too much attention to her liking. Not that there were no shinobi in the red-light district, but Hanazakari tried to enforce a policy of 'leaving your work and worries outside' – their words, not Anko's – and this included work clothes.
It was only when she had already been walking through the door, that Anko realized that she didn't know whose name Manjushage had used to make the reservation. Then, because she knew them better than she would like, she came to the conclusion that she knew exactly which name they had chosen.
"Ah, yes, here it is!" the receptionist, a beautiful woman with strawberry blonde hair and a perfect manicure, tapped one of her nails on the list. "It's right here, a reservation under 'dangocchi'. Oh my, and for the whole night!"
The woman giggled, acting like this was a juicy bit of gossip and Anko was just one of her regulars, even though they both knew that, were she to share any of this information, she would lose her job, and the brothel would lose a great amount of clients. Discretion was very important in places like these.
Anko was then guided by another woman to one of their private rooms, at the heart of the building. She had never been here before, not one to spend too much money on these things. Not to say that she didn't, only that she preferred to forego the luxury and focus on what she had actually paid for. The room itself was provided with a bed – of course – a pair of couches situated near a coffee table and a steaming bath with rose petals.
"Everything is already paid for," the woman then said with a coy smile, "so if there is something you want, you just have to ask."
She left with a last wink in Anko's direction, making her snort at the blatant flirtation. She wasn't exactly ugly, so she was used to it, but she wasn't in the mood for that right now.
What did Manjushage want? Why had they summoned her here?
...what will they look like?
After a bit of waiting, it turned out that the answer was: like Ibara Yuugen if she pulled the stick out of her ass. Which was hilarious, because Manjushage had been living right under their noses for a while now, but also a bit... upsetting. Why hadn't she told Anko sooner? Maybe they had never seen each other, but they were friends. More or less.
"Hey..." said Manjushage-Yuugen by way of greeting, her voice steady but uncertain.
"That top makes your boobs look amazing," answered Anko. Because, as much as she wanted to deny it, she was nervous and it wasn't like she had much experience actually talking to people without trying to rile them up or interrogate them, and because it just felt really weird to see Yuugen showing any skin at all, and one had to admit that the cleavage was distracting.
Manjushage-Yuugen – should she call her Ibara? – looked down like she was just as surprised to find them there. "Thanks," she said, looking up with a rised eyebrow, "I grew them myself."
Anko burst out laughing.
It was hard not to cackle, every time she remembered it. To think that The Governess herself was actually an undercover spymaster that had adopted their jinchuriki on nothing more than a whim.
They had talked for hours, after their initial meeting, taking their time to soak and relax in the rose petal bath. It had been surprising to know that Ibara had only wanted to meet her in person, instead of discussing anything work-related like Anko had thought. It made her happy, to finally meet her friend – not that she would tell anyone, for various reasons that ranged from 'fraternizing with a possible enemy of Konoha' to 'it's just embarrassing to admit that I care for someone so I will take this information with me to the grave, thanks'.
They still wouldn't meet in public, at least not until their closeness was plausible enough, but she did have a permanent invitation to visit her and the kyuubi-brat whenever she liked.
The day Ibara introduced them, the kid had stared at Anko in silence for a full minute before nodding to himself and declaring her 'auntie Anko', for which he was instantly promoted from 'kyuubi-brat' to 'brat'.
It was a process.
"What can I say," Hatake had said, in a surprisingly very good impression of a love-struck idiot. "Everyone has their weaknesses."
Anko couldn't help but laugh, there was a story behind this, and she couldn't wait for Hatake to leave so she could pry it out of Ibara as soon as Naruto was in bed. Ibara's left eye, when Anko had looked at her to see her reaction, momentarily twitched. This hilarious reaction was shadowed by the fact that she had turned scarlet red, and was doing a very poor job of preparing dinner, a fact that Naruto had also noticed.
Speaking of which.
"No way! You can't marry Iba-nee!" The brat had jumped onto the kitchen counter, pointing dramatically at Hatake with a tiny, accusing finger. Never a dull moment with these two, was there?
Hatake's lone eye blinked, visibly taken aback by Naruto's reaction, but before he could say anything, Iba-chan's voice cut in. "Kakashi-san, I thought we had agreed that I would talk with Naruto and explain it to him before making any sort of public announcement. He is, after all, the one who will be most affected, were I to accept your proposition," she chastised.
"What?! No! Iba-nee you're not going to say yes to his popro- poto- You can't leave me to date that weirdo!"
Anko rested her chin on her hand as she observed the conversation, not noticing the way she had started frowning. She had never seen the kid so upset before. Granted, she had only known him for a week but, well. Her annoyance towards Hatake only grew as she watched the kid run out of the room, followed by a distressed Ibara. She forced herself to smile. "Way to go, man," she said as she slapped Hatake on the back. A friendly gesture, if it wasn't for the force she had put behind it. Hatake merely winced, still eyeing the hall where the occupants of the house had disappeared.
"You should probably go for now, and visit another time. I don't think they will come back any time soon," she continued. Even though it had been funny at first, right now she was rather displeased at him, and she wanted him to leave as soon as possible so she could talk to her friend. It was obvious that there was something going on, and Ibara didn't seem to be amused by it in the slightest. An image of the blushing mess from before flitted through her mind briefly, but she pushed it away. They could discuss things once they were alone, but for now...
"I'll accompany you to the door," she said, already standing up, and practically kicked Hatake out of the house.
He seemed oddly used to it.
"Anko, about what we talked about the other day..."
"Don't change the subject." Anko's expression turned sour, although Ibara couldn't see it, as she was sitting, with her back to her, on the floor of the engawa1 leading to the back garden. Anko herself was still sitting inside, nursing a drink. They had moved to the living room, where, as Naruto had explained gleefully, they would put the kotatsu when the cold finally reached Konoha. It wouldn't take long for autumn to spread its icy fingers through the streets, turning the leaves an assortment of reds, browns, and yellows, but for now the summer breeze still ruffled the plants in the garden, filling the house with their scent.
Ibara sighed, her shoulders sagging. "I've already told you, I'm not going to call off the- The thing ."
"Why not? You can't even say 'courting' out loud without stuttering." It was quite funny, actually, Anko had never seen her so red. Then again, a week prior she had never seen her, period.
"Because then he wins!" Ibara turned to look at her, clearly frustrated, but her determined expression told Anko that she wasn't going to budge on this. "No, I'm going to let him keep digging his stupid hole, and then I'm going to shove him inside."
With a short bark of laughter, Anko finished her cup of sake, and walked to sit beside Ibara, leaning her back against one of the wooden poles and letting one of her legs dangle idly off the side. It was a nice summer night, a handful of fireflies flitted about the stream running through the garden in a mirror image of the clear sky and its many stars. Beyond the garden, a small forest stretched out, dark beyond the lights of the house. There were many forests strewn around Konoha, and Ibara's house was near the Uchiha compound, which meant, mostly, that she had very uptight neighbours and that it was at the outskirts of the village. Now that Anko thought about it, she might have picked this place because of its location. The Uchiha may think they were better than anyone else, but they had never been particularly hostile towards Naruto. Furthermore, being near the police station meant that the other neighbours would be deterred from picking on the boy, and being at the outskirts of the village took Naruto away from a toxic environment.
In fact, Anko was now sure that Ibara had picked this place because of that, and not because it had a nice back garden. She had been able to pick Manjushage's brain while they were writing their novel together, and the spymaster had always been aware of many angles and details that Anko had never even thought about. It was a pity that she hadn't been born in Konoha, she would have made for an amazing kunoichi. A genius, even. Though then, maybe it was for the best that Ibara wasn't one, the only shinobi that Anko had met with a similar thought process to her had turned out quite rotten.
Anko groaned, and lightly kicked at Ibara's foot with her dangling one. "Fine, but we'll tell everyone that he's impotent."
A beat of silence, then, "A proper lady wouldn't know that the first week of being courted. However..." Her grin, when she turned to look at Anko, stretched wide and mischievous. "Say that, in a month or so, I dropped some hints to a friend of mine, or a neighbour, just some off-hand comments- In confidence, of course..."
"Of course." Anko matched her grin with one of her own.
"Off-hand comments that might or might not have been misinterpreted," Ibara continued. "Then... I suppose that it wouldn't really be my fault if an unsavory rumour like that spread around..."
Finally, Ibara's mood seemed to lift from the gloom that had attached itself to her moments ago. Anko liked this Ibara the best. She was fun, and clever, and probably the only person that laughed at her crude jokes and matched her banter word for word. She didn't like seeing her down, as much as she had tried to never get too close to anyone else – once stabbed, twice shy – she had to admit that she cared about the idiot.
She was going to make Hatake miserable for this. Just a little. Just a tiny little bit.
They sat there, watching the dancing fireflies, the flowing stream, the leaves swaying in the breeze. It was late, and Anko had begun to ponder drowsily on whether to leave now or stay the night in the guest room – it wouldn't be the first time, nor the second, despite having only known who Ibara was for a week – when Ibara spoke again.
"You're also avoiding the subject, you know."
Anko's eyes had drifted closed a while ago, maybe if she pretended to have fallen asleep-
"I know you're awake, Anko."
Drat. "What do you want me to say? That it changes things? That I'm- happy? Relieved? It doesn't, and I'm not." Her tone might have been more sharp than she had intended for it to be, and she regretted it almost instantly, but at the sime time, she thought that she was allowed to be a little bitter.
"No, I just- I just thought you deserved to know, more than anyone else. He was your jōnin-sensei, and I might not fully understand what that means, but I know enough." A hesitant pause, then, "I would help you track him down, if you asked."
Anko shifted, uncomfortable. "And do what? Even if- Even if I went after him, he is a Sannin, and I could never land a hit on him back then. Fuck, let's say that I behave like a good little leaf of Konoha and share the info, then what? T&I will ask me where I got it, and we'll both be fucked. No, I don't want to know where he is, and even if he wasn't the one experimenting with kids and shit, he still kept secrets from Konoha. He still scurried away like a rat."
When Ibara spoke, her words were quiet, reluctance seeping into them. It was obvious that she thought it would make her angry. "I think he left the snake scroll behind on purpose. For you."
"I don't want to talk about it." It was hard to keep her air of nonchalance. Ibara had been right in her assesment, she was angry.
"Alright," came the dejected answer.
Anko had always been mercurial, quick to anger, but she couldn't stay angry for long while knowing that Ibara didn't have any ill intentions. She had been there for her for ages, and she was the only one that gave her any updates on that bastard. The rest of the shinobi in Konoha, while not as suspicious as before, still walked on eggshells around her when it came to Orochimaru. Even Ibiki, that asshole, kept any information on the Snake Sannin well away from Anko, as if she was just going to leave in search for him the moment she heard his name. She wasn't some abandoned dog that couldn't understand that had been left behind and kept waiting for a master that wouldn't come. Frankly, it was humiliating.
To the night sky, she murmured, so low it could barely be heard under the chirping sounds of the crickets. "Thanks though, nerd."
1It's a japanese-style veranda, but I don't feel like describing it, I already suffered through describing a genkan last chapter. You know what I mean, you can picture it, you're reading a Naruto fanfic, I know that you know.
Notes:
I'm taking Orochimaru's character and deconstructing it like an expensive chef does to a normal, decent dishe, only to shake him up and dump really small portions of him in a big ass plate and say it's high cuisine, and there's nothing you can do to stop me
Notes:
No, I didn't make a mistake when I wrote that Genma was a chuunin, he'll be a jōnin later in the story dw
Yes, from the next chapter on you're mostly going to be reading from Ibara's POV
Anyways, I'm going to bed, I'll fix this tomorrow, ciao 3
Finally edited this thing. I can't believe I changed from past tense to present tense for a while and didn't even realize...