Into the Fire

Chapter Eleven

The toad sage slowly climbed the stairs back to the Hokage’s office. It felt odd to knock and wait to be admitted, ever since his sensei had become Hokage he’d had some deeper connection to the person wearing the robes, his teacher, his student, his teammate . . . now a stranger was seated behind the familiar desk and Jiraiya felt the world spinning out of his control.

“I should never have brought her back.” he grumbled angrily, “What do you need me to do?”

“How would you punish her?” Iruka asked curiously as he lifted haggard eyes to meet Jiraiya’s angry ones.

“I don’t know if I could.” the toad sage admitted soberly, “There’s more to the situation than meets the eye . . . Tsunade has a grudge against Kakashi because of something that happened between her and Sakumo long before the brat was in the picture.” he reluctantly continued.

“And that would be?” the teacher prodded.

“You have an interest in ancient history?” Jiraiya asked wryly.

“I have an interest in anything that will help me deal with this situation. For some ungodly reason the clan elders thought I’d be good at dealing with the human side of this job . . . that and the paperwork,” he admitted in defeat as he eyed the teetering stacks, “and this incident was the trigger. It’s important I deal with it quickly and fairly . . . but Kakashi’s been so badly wronged I’m not sure there’s any way to make it up to him.”

“Might as well get comfortable then,” the sage muttered, “this is gonna take a while.” He carefully lifted an untidy stack of papers from a comfortable chair and balanced them tight against yet another stack. “The princess wasn’t much for paperwork, huh?” he chuckled as he sprawled in the now empty seat.

“It goes back to when we were all a lot younger,” Jiraiya began wistfully, “Tsunade, Orochimaru and I were on Sarutobi sensei’s team . . . before he was Hokage, mind you. Anyway, I always had a thing for the princess . . . and she would never give me the time of day, that is, until she met my cousin Sakumo.”

“You’re a Hatake?” Iruka asked, totally derailed by that bit of information.

“Mmhhmm.” the sage hummed noncommitally, “Haven’t used my clan name in years . . . Hatakes always were a touchy bunch.” he rambled.

“What does this have to do with Kakashi?” the Hokage finally demanded.

“Oh . . . right, Tsunade took one look at Sakumo without his mask and she was smitten . . . only problem was he was already in love with the girl who would grow up to be Kakashi’s mother. I kept telling her she was too old for him, that he wasn’t interested, but she just wouldn’t listen. I used to follow her and watch them.” he reluctantly admitted, “She went crazy when she heard he was getting married, that’s when she left the village . . . and she would never have come back if I hadn’t been a fool and dragged her here.” he finished morosely.

“She told Sarutobi-san, didn’t she.” Iruka asked tightly.

“Yeah, I’m sure she did . . . the old man encouraged us to tell him everything, especially after Orochimaru left.” Jiraiya confirmed.

“Did you know this all started with Sakumo? Sandaime started using him as currency after his failed mission . . . it was a request for a father and son duo that triggered his suicide.” the teacher continued angrily, “And as soon as Yondaime was out of the picture he dragged Kakashi into it. The poor man hasn’t even been paid for three years, he had to sell his house and is about to be evicted from his apartment . . . how do you punish someone for that?”

“I don’t know what to tell you Iruka . . . I thought she forgot all that years ago when she met Dan . . . she always said he was the love of her life.” the sage said with a slow shake of his head.

“I still haven’t found the records on the jutsu Sandaime cast on Kakashi to control his chakra . . . you wouldn’t happen to know it, would you?” Iruka said wearily, laying his head on a stack of paper and shutting his eyes.

“Ru, it’s time to call it a night.”, Genma’s voice rang out of the shadows.

“Soon, Gen, I promise.” the Hokage answered, exhaustion obvious in his voice.

“Now Ru, I mean it.” the honey-haired man insisted, “You’ll just have to come back tomorrow Jiraiya-sama.”

“Genma . . . I’m not done yet.” Iruka said in his best teacher’s voice, “I know you mean well, but you can’t interfere with me doing my job. I’ll stop as soon as I can.”

The honey-haired man’s lips thinned and his senbon twitched, but he remained silent and faded back into the shadows. “Well Jiraiya?” the Hokage prodded again.

“I don’t know the jutsu . . . but Kakashi wouldn’t be the first person he used it on, I’m sure he would have at least tried it on Sakumo first.” the sage muttered, “I’ll look through his papers if you’ve found them, I may be able to recognize it.”

“Wonderful.” the teacher sighed, shoving several thick bound volumes at the clearly startled white maned man, “Start with these . . . come back tomorrow and I’ll give you some more. Where are you staying anyway?”

“The hime usually let me stay here.” Jiraiya mumbled under his breath, studying the clearly exhausted figure swaying gently in front of him. Not the time to ask, he thought, “I haven’t decided yet.” he declared brightly, “I’ll stop by in the morning and check in.”

“Fine.” Iruka muttered before laying his head heavily on the desk.

“That’s it.” Genma barked angrily. “You,” he declared as he jabbed a finger at the toad sage, “Get the hell out, and you,” he continued in a somewhat softer tone as he turned to address the Hokage, “bed now.”

“I’m too tired Gen.” Iruka mumbled as he snuggled into the tumbled paperwork.

The tokubetsu jounin scooped up the slender figure, effortlessly striding across the room and through the doors leading into the Hokage’s private apartment, laying his charge tenderly on the bed before quickly stripping him and tucking him under the covers. He slipped in beside the slumbering man, easily pulling him into his arms and holding him close as he joined the teacher in sleep.

Ibiki’s eyes went wide in shock. He thinks I’m beautiful, his mind kept echoing even as he eagerly returned the copy-nin’s embrace, the jounin’s tongue sweeping boldly into his mouth. “Kakashi . . . wait.” the interrogator gasped when he reluctantly pulled away for air, “Not here.”

“What?” the dazed man mumbled.

“If you still want this when we get home, I certainly won’t complain . . . but I want you to be sure, this feels too much like payment.” the scarred man rumbled hesitantly.

“I don’t have a home.” the jounin whispered sadly.

“What do you mean?” Ibiki said curiously, tilting his head and studying the suddenly nervous copy-nin.

“I had to sell my family’s house a couple years ago . . .” Kakashi trailed off uncertainly before squaring his shoulders and admitting, “and I got an eviction notice from the landlord just before I left so . . . I imagine my stuff is in the street right now. Do you think it would be alright if I stayed in the ANBU barracks?”

“You’ll stay with me.” the interrogator declared possessively, “At least until we get you a place of your own.”

“You don’t have to . .” the copy-nin began before being abruptly cut off.

“I insist.” Ibiki declared sincerely, “Besides, you made me promise to take you to my house . . . don’t you remember?” he said with a smirk.

“No . . . that was so rude of me.” Kakashi groaned as he massaged his temples, “I am so sorry.”

“No apology necessary. How are you feeling? Are you up to traveling yet?” Ibiki questioned, his concern obvious.

“I feel okay . . .” the copy-nin ventured tentatively, standing and stretching before muttering “What the hell?” He pulled the waistband of his sweat pants away from his body, looking down in dismay. “Shit, I’d forgotten about those.” he rasped.

“I didn’t want to try and take them out,” the interrogator hastened to explain, “I was afraid you’d wake up and kill me.”

“I can’t kill you.” the jounin murmured, “I’m chakra blocked . . . remember.”

“Then you’d hate me, that’s no better.” the scarred man retorted.

Kakashi debated whether he should remove the piercings now or not. It wouldn’t be particularly comfortable traveling with them . . . but he also didn’t know how difficult it would be to do. He didn’t want to risk embarrassing himself in front of Ibiki, even if the interrogator was just doing his duty, it was nice not being alone.

“I’m good.” the copy-nin declared brightly, “Let’s go.”

“It’s going to be better ‘kashi . . . I promise.” a deep voice growled in his ear, sending shudders down the jounin’s spine. He turned and peered intently into Ibiki’s unreadable eyes, sharingan spinning slowly as he tried to figure out the enigmatic torture master.

“Do you like what you do?” the copy-nin finally asked tentatively, instantly regretting it at the pained hiss it drew in response.

“I did once.” the scarred man eventually admitted in a nearly inaudible whisper, “I was very angry then . . . now, it’s my duty.” he concluded with a shrug, “You of all people should understand that duty and desire rarely coincide.” He handed Kakashi the discarded bandana, “This will have to do for a mask.” he mumbled.

“Thank you.” the copy-nin said slowly, stuffing it in his waistband for later and taking a large hand in his, “Let’s go home.”