Beautiful Dreamer

A/N: Damn…it took FOREVER to get this chapter to the way I wanted it. Still, you guys better not say anything about the lack of smut. The plot just went… “Hello! I’m here!” and I had to let it in. So, we’ve got plot, not smut. At least for now. Oh, and by the way, thanks for the reviews and comments. They are fuel for my inner fangirl.

Chapter 5: Lay In Wait

For some strange reason that Genma didn’t understand, he was sitting across from two of the world’s biggest idiots. “You two have lost your fucking minds.” Kakashi, who was seated to Iruka’s left, shot a glare at the young teacher, as if to say I told you he wouldn’t go for it. The next thing Genma knew, he saw a very relieved look in Kakashi’s eye. Things were getting pretty complicated. Genma rubbed at his temples. This was too much to take at eight in the morning, right when he got up.

Not only did he have to ask Kakashi why his wrists were rubbed raw, and what the hell the pain in his shoulders was all about, but he was hit with the information of what had actually been going on for the past couple of days. That wasn’t too hard to get around, seeing as how he’d been planning on doing that kind of thing to and with Kakashi anyway. But what he could not wrap his head around was why on Earth either of them thought that he would go through with the hair-brained scheme they’d cooked up between them.

“Just out of curiosity, which one of you came up with this bullshit?” Genma’s voice came out only half as testy as he really felt, which he supposed was a good sign. It meant that he wasn’t about to snap and kill the both of them. The instant the question left his mouth, Kakahsi pointed his finger at Iruka, who subsequently gaped at his cohort’s betrayal. Snorting, the Special Jounin grunted, “Okay. That means you’re cooking breakfast, asshole.”

Iruka got jerkily up from his chair to move around the kitchen. Kakashi spoke. “Genma, I know how this sounds. I mean, I was completely against it, to begin with…but Iruka has a point. You’re not leaving the apartment with me here. The only way is to get you out, under somewhat controlled circumstances.” Genma was now goggling at his (apparent…damn it, why couldn’t he remember!?) lover.

“So…this controlled circumstance…what exactly did Iruka plan?” Genma fingered his senbon case, which lay on the table-top. He was not really feeling like chewing on one at the moment, but he was almost there. The temptation to fling one at the man across from him was getting to be rather unbearable.

“Well…you see…” Kakashi was stumbling over his words, which Genma found to be rather unlike him. If he had something to say, he usually just said it whether it meant him getting the crap kicked out of him, or not. It didn’t matter. Iruka said it for him.

The spiky-haired man poked his head out of the kitchen. “I spoke with Anko early this morning. She’s renting out one of the larger buildings on the edge of the warehouse district. There is going to be a rave.”

Genma glared at Iruka and Kakashi in turn. “A rave? Is that what you call controlled? Controlled circumstances means that you’ll be able to dictate the people involved, the time, the ways in and out, and most of all, there has to be security! You idiots! How can you be sure that I won’t just spazz out and start fucking anything and everything within a two-kilometer radius?” He blinked. When had he stood up? The chair he’d been sitting in was toppled, and a few of his senbon had spilled out of the case onto the floor. Kakashi looked worried.

Iruka just came into the room, and said, “Believe me…that won’t be a problem.” When Genma raised an eyebrow, the teacher formed a handseal and muttered, “Henge no jutsu.” When the usual cloud of steam cleared, Genma blinked and rubbed his eyes. Kakashi turned his head, and then did a double-take. Standing where Iruka had been was now a clone of Kakashi, but this clone was not wearing the man’s Jounin uniform. It was instead clad in a pair of leather pants that looked as if they’d take one hell of a shoe horn to get into, a sleeveless black fishnet shirt with a stripe of dark blue velvet across the chest, as well as black leather opera gloves that laced up nearly to his shoulders.

“Wh-What the Hell?” Genma could only choke those few words out, because he was trying not to fall flat onto his ass. Honestly, if there was anything sexier, he didn’t know what it was.

The clone said, “He’ll be borrowing some of my club clothes,” before it was dispelled and became Iruka again. The teacher then walked back into the kitchen, smirking. Kakashi was just blinking. He apparently had never seen Iruka go out. A highly amused voice came from the kitchen. “As if you could look at anyone else if he’s wearing that! I’ll be there, too, just as a precaution, and I’m sure we can find something suitable for you to wear, too, Genma.”

He was utterly speechless. Though to be completely honest, he wasn’t precisely sure if it was because seeing an image of Kakashi wearing leather, velvet and fishnet gave him an almost-erection…or if it was because this plan had the potential to blow up in their faces. It might be a bit of both, really. Kakashi was looking at him with a strange kind of light in his eyes, and Genma wasn’t at all sure how he felt about it. He hadn’t ever really liked the man. Point of fact, he really kind of hated his guts. When had he started to feel all these fucking mushy things? It was like he was being possessed by a woman or something.

Or, if one wanted to be a little more accurate about it, he was starting to feel like he was being inhabited by a very…possessive woman. Even if Kakashi made him nuts, he still felt an inexplicable attraction to the bastard. And apparently, it was the same the other way around. He supposed that it would just have to take the both of them getting hold of the asshole that dosed him with whatever was lodged in his cranium, beating the antidote out of him or her, then seeing where that left them. Genma wasn’t happy with the situation by far, but there really wasn’t anything he could do about it at the moment.

“Fine.”

After he righted the chair, Genma just stared at the table for a few minutes. He could feel the silver-haired man’s eye on him. It was odd, but it didn’t feel bad. When he looked up, Kakashi wasn’t sitting in his chair anymore. He was kneeling next to him. “Genma, I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

Kakashi looked away, his brow creasing behind his hitai-ate, and Genma was sure that he was frowning behind that mask. When he looked back up at him, Kakshi pushed up the cloth and metal, fixing him with a mismatched gaze. He pulled down his mask. “I should have told you.” Before Genma could say that it was alright…that he would have done the same thing because he would not have known what to do, he found that he wouldn’t have been able to speak anyway.

Large hands took hold of his face, and he felt lips pressing gently against his. They were softer than he’d expected them to be, and warm. The kiss was simple and chaste, but there was something behind it that made it much more intimate than it would have been, otherwise. It was over far too soon for his taste as well. His day was shaping up to be one of the strangest he’d had in his life. So far, he’d realized that he was attracted to a man he used to hate (or did he still hate him?), been shoved into the middle of a scheme that could very well get him screwed in several different ways, and he still didn’t have his breakfast! Right at that moment, though, it just felt nice to be held. “So,” he said quietly as he rested his forehead on Kakashi’s, “You busy tonight?” The other man smiled crookedly.

“Not really. What did you have in mind?”

Genma chuckled lightly, then said, “Not much. Get to sleep early…sleepwalk around town and hopefully not to fuck everyone.” Kakashi’s hand moved to his hair, combing through it gently. “Help me?” As if in answer, Kakashi brought their lips together again. Genma gasped at the ferocity the other man displayed, and felt Kakashi’s tongue slide past his lips. Had he been standing, his knees would have given out. Instead, he tried to turn further toward the other man, but fell out of the chair, landing rather un-gracefully on top of Kakashi. That didn’t stop Kakashi’s exploration of his mouth though. Fingerless gloved hands slid over the bare skin of his back, and Genma made a slight groan.

“Gah! Not again!”

The two men on the floor stopped kissing, and blinked at Iruka, who stood in the doorway to the kitchen, face red and holding a tray laden with food. Genma slowly slid off of Kakashi, stammering, “Er…sorry about that…” while Kakashi was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. They all sat down to a very quiet, very awkward breakfast.

--

In the back-streets of Konoha, there are many unsavory characters that never really have been rooted out. Prostitutes are common, though no self-respecting shinobi needed to hire one unless they were into that particular kind of kink…and those prostitutes had pimps. The pimps ate lunch with a handful of drug and illegal arms dealers. The arms dealers played cards and mahjong with various and sundry rogue nins. And all of these men and women knew one man, who presently sat in a dimly lit room and taking it rather easy.

The Hokage had no power in the back alleys, the gutters, and the darkened rooms of the warehouse district. No upstanding Konoha citizen would be caught dead in that section of town after dark, with or without a ninja to escort them. Hell, even the Jounin steered clear of the place it they could help it.

Sipping at a cup of delicate sake, this man read over a report, chuckling. It seemed that the first test subject was doing splendidly, and the drug was not losing potency. There were photographs in the file that would have made even the great novelist Jiraiya blush. Honestly…if he felt like it, he could have blackmailed the entire treasury out of her. Now the Copy-nin was another story.

There was still a week in the test-trial, and he needed that bastard Hatake out of the way. Otherwise, the testing would not continue. And he just happened to know of the perfect time to do this job.

--

Iruka sat on the couch, tapping his foot and looking at the clock. It was a quarter to ten. What was taking Genma so long? He looked down at himself. Iruka was wearing a pair of soft brown suede pants, and a sleeveless white undershirt that had a small red smiley-face printed on the front. Kakashi was draped over the recliner, looking rather…well, Iruka would rather not think of words that could be euphemisms for what he was really thinking. The outfit he’d chosen was perfect for drawing and holding attention, and Iruka was actually rather proud of that. He hadn’t gone wrong yet. Of course, the man didn’t seem very comfortable with this. Instead of his hitai-ate, he wore a strip of black lace, which was apparently itchy. Physical discomfort was not the issue, however. A little itch was the least of Kakashi’s worries.

Several loud bangs and a string of obscenities later, the door to the bathroom slammed open and Genma stalked out. Iruka’s jaw dropped. Kakashi pulled the lace bit off of his eye to make sure it was not a trick of the light. The first words out of Genma’s mouth were: “No way.”

Iruka stood, pleading. “Come on, Genma…if you’re gonna draw attention to yourself, then this is perfect!”

“Why not just put me in drag, then? I’m sure I’d draw a lot of attention if I wore a dress.”

He was afraid something like this would happen. Gently taking Genma by the arm, he pulled. Leading him back to the bedroom, he put the man in front of the full-length mirror. Leather pants hugged his legs to the knee, and then flared just enough to admit boots. Those pants had straps and chains dangling from them; Iruka had used those for several different purposes in the past, and now perhaps Genma would too. Paired with black leather pants was a dark red shirt that clung to every inch of Genma’s torso. On the front was a silk-screened image of a geisha carrying a blood-stained katana. Fingerless fishnet gloves encased his arms to just above his elbows. “What’s wrong with the way you look?”

“I don’t like it.”

“Why?” Iruka leaned close to Genma’s ear, making sure his breath drifted over the skin of his neck, which produced a shiver.

“I’m…” Genma’s brow furrowed, “…not used to standing out.”

Iruka thought for a long moment. It wasn’t as if Genma was going to be awake…but if he didn’t feel at ease about this to begin with, the herb solution might not take. It only really worked if the person was willing to go to sleep. Willing to relax long enough to let it take effect. Iruka could only think of one way to make him understand. “But,” he moved to stand very close behind Genma, so close he could feel his body heat. “But you look…” Iruka ran his fingers up Genma’s arms, over rough fishnet, then smooth skin, until he came to the man’s clothed shoulders. Dragging his nails downward over the man’s back, he continued, “…so good this way…” That statement was not a lie. It was completely true. “And if you’re going to do this, we have to make it look convincing…”

Genma was breathing a bit more rapidly than he had been. “I-Iruka…what…”

Continuing his little bout of ‘convincing’, Iruka took hold of the leather straps that were attached to the front belt loops of Genma’s pants, pulling him back against his chest. “I think you’ve convinced me, Genma. You look almost good enough to eat.”

“Um…” Genma tried to say something, but it never really came out.

Kakashi’s voice came from the doorway. “He might look good enough to eat, but he sure as Hell isn’t your buffet.” Iruka turned to see the tall man leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. That pose was quite enough to cause a slight hemorrhage in Iruka’s brain. Good God…they’re going to drive me mad. Which could possibly happen. He was going to have to keep an eye out for the bastard who slipped Genma the love potion, while still trying to watch them. And if everything went according to plan, then Iruka might have the proverbial Nosebleed of Death. Sighing, he poked Genma in the ribs.

“You’ll do fine.”

--

Genma looked dubiously at the hulking structure. He was holding the cup that his herbal solution was in, and the three of them were just across the dirty street. This was a very, very bad idea. There were more than a few reasons why Genma didn’t want to do this, and even though he did voice them to both of his companions, he knew that there was really no other way. He just hoped it didn’t blow up in their faces. It was all he could do to just drink down the bitter stuff without flinching. Then, he sat, leaning on Kakashi’s legs. His body started feeling a little heavy, as did his eyelids, and there was an odd numbness that settled over him. Soon thereafter, he was asleep.

--

Kakashi felt Genma’s body go completely slack against the side of his leg, and then looked down to see the plastic cup rolling out of the man’s limp hand. “Damn, Iruka…what the hell did you give him?” Whatever it was, it took effect five times faster than it had the night before.

The Chuunin grinned. “Oh, just a different mixture. It won’t kill him.”

“It better not. Remember what I told you?” Kakashi yanked at the side of Iruka’s hair, which was not pulled back. “He gets hurt, so do you.” Iruka’s eyes widened in pain, and Kakashi smirked behind his mask. “What did you give him?”

A hand gently grasped his, untangling it from Iruka’s hair. When he looked, he saw Genma standing between he and Iruka. “Now, now. Play nice, Kakashi.” Hazel eyes locked onto him, and made several trips over his body before Genma’s smile became one of approval. “You look…yummy.” His eyes turned to Iruka. Shrugging offhandedly, he said, “Not bad.” Iruka looked affronted. “So what are we doing all dressed up?”

Iruka pointed at the large warehouse, from which music was still pouring. “We’re going to a party.”

“I like parties.” Genma’s face split in a grin as he took hold of a belt loop on each man’s pants, and began tugging them forward. “There’s music, and dancing…and lots of dark corners for doing…bad things. Right, Kakashi?” They were nearing the door now, where an enormous man stood, an iron box to his right. Kakashi slipped enough money inside to admit the three of them, and the man stamped whatever bit of exposed skin he felt like (Kakashi got stamped on his shoulder, Iruka on the hand, and Genma on his neck).

When they entered the massive space, Kakashi was shocked. Lights of every color shone on hundreds of people who were dancing, but there were also rows of tables at the back, where it looked like there were more drugs being exchanged and used than he’d seen in his entire life. Atop a tall scaffold was a booth where a man was busy with records and sound mixing equipment. Several small stages had performers of various types on them: from cage dancers to contortionists, and Kakashi wasn’t completely sure that there wasn’t some form of sex being had in the far back right corner. He didn’t want to know, really.

He had never been to one of these things. All in all, it looked like a complete…what was it that Hayate used to say? Ah, yes. It looked like a den of iniquity. Kakashi chuckled. That guy had been interesting. But in the present moment, he was more worried about Genma, who was looking like a kid in a candy store. A sign from him made Iruka disappear into the crowd. The plan was simple. Iruka was the lookout, while he and Genma were the bait. If the person who did this to Genma was anywhere near, they would not be able to resist coming forward, or at least showing some sign of their identity.

--

Lights flashed, and the beat pulsed. Dancers everywhere moved in time, and the young girl smiled nervously, though there really was no reason to be so. No one knew what was happening. The target was there. She’d seen the man a moment earlier. There was another man with him.

One of her hands was extended forward, and the other held a tray carrying drinks of various colors and alcohol contents. The girl didn’t know why she was supposed to do it, but she would, because that man was paying her. Wasn’t that reason enough? Approaching the two men was simple enough. The one with the mask was so tall…and he looked strong. It would not be easy. People reached onto her tray, pulling off drinks. They were free, so no one really cared what they were. The tray was empty now.

She reached into her sleeve, and withdrew a slender knife. The men were so busy with each other, they didn’t even see her. For a long moment, she watched their bodies move. It was obvious that they were lovers. Her eyes flickered over to the booth, where the man who’d hired her sat. He was watching. All she had to do was walk by. Walk by and scratch him. The green fluid on the knife would do the rest.

--

From his vantage point, Iruka could see the entire party. It was a frenetic mass of humanity on the dance floor, with men and women moving against and with one another in every way imaginable. He was grateful that he could also keep an eye on the exits. But most of all, he was watching for people who might be watching Genma. So far, he’d spotted three women taking bets. Iruka guessed they were betting as to how long it would take before Genma bent Kakashi over one of the nearby tables. If he had to enter a wager, he’d bet sixty credits that it only took another half hour.

His eyes narrowed as they trained on a waitress. Oh, honey, that’s just sad. He sighed. Something was wrong. There was no reason for a waitress to be carrying an assassin’s kunai. She held it like a five-year-old academy student. That was an easy indication that the girl had never done this kind of work. And she was headed straight for Kakashi. “Goddamnit, Kakashi…” The bastard was absorbed in the way Genma was grinding against him.

He supposed it was for the girl’s own good. Though, he didn’t want to call attention to himself…so, he just performed one of the jutsu that Genma had recently taught him. In an instant, he was standing between Kakashi and the waitress, the girl’s wrist gripped firmly in his left hand. Tightening his hand made hers drop the kunai she held. “I think you should leave.” He said this very clearly, and the girl all but squeaked as she shook free of him and bolted toward the exit. He bent down and carefully picked up the knife.

There was something green and viscous on the tip. Poison? Iruka frowned. This was getting to be more dangerous than strained muscles and being oversexed. For the time being, he would let things continue. But if anything else happened in the next half hour, he would abort the entire operation. After quickly returning to his post, he watched the crowd again. He really didn’t see anything suspicious, but then again, he could be under-analyzing the entire situation.

--

He could feel the thumping of the music in his body, and it didn’t take long before his heart-beat and breathing came faster to keep up. The room had begun heating up not long after they’d arrived, and it only got hotter when Genma began dancing against him. Kakashi wasn’t much of a dancer, really. But then again, what he and Genma were doing was more like sex. Leather slid against leather as he pulled the shorter man against his chest. They moved together, skin, leather and cloth meshing together so tightly that it was difficult to tell where he ended and Genma began.

Hands immediately found their way under the mesh of the shirt he wore, bare fingertips and mesh-covered palms running over his heated skin. The moans he made were lost in the cacophony of the room. The chaos of light, heat, sound and writhing bodies created a haze in and of itself, and Kakashi could not help but be lost in it. Short nails scraped over the skin of his sides, over his ribs, and his eyes closed for a long moment. Genma’s hands left his torso, sliding back and around to graze over the skin just above the waistband of his pants at the base of his spine.

Pressing their bodies together, Kakashi tangled his hands in the leather straps of Genma’s pants. As they moved, Genma wound his left leg around Kakashi’s right, pressing his right hip hard into the taller man’s groin. Behind his mask, Kakashi’s lips parted, a groan escaping. Taking two handfuls of silver hair in a tight grip, Genma brought his face closer, and growled in his ear, “Time to play,” before pulling away, Kakashi’s hands unwinding from the leather that held them. Laying hands on his chest, the shorter man pushed him until he was pressed against a cement pillar. He soon found that he was sandwiched between the cold, hard surface of the pillar and Genma’s softer, warm body. Feeling his nerves begin flaming with sensation, Kakashi reached out. Again pulling at the straps of the other man’s pants, he attempted to gain more friction.

Genma took his arm, pulling him again, this time toward a dark alcove. The light did not penetrate very far into this small space, making it perfect for whatever it was that the shorter man had planned. On the very edge of the light, Genma pushed him face first into the wall, a floor-to ceiling mirror. “Now you’ll be able to see,” hot breaths ghosted against his ear, “everything I do to you.” Kakashi’s hands pushed against the cold glass, his visible eye fixing on the image of himself and the man behind him. As he watched, Genma’s hands came around from behind him and ran up under his shirt once more, pushing the thing up to expose his torso up to his chest.

Nimble fingers teased at the skin around his nipples, never touching, but coming ever nearer until they were hardened from anticipation alone. Though his eye wished to close, he fought to keep it trained on the way Genma’s mouth breathed so close to his ear. “Do you see,” came the growling tone as lips grazed his ear and fingers pulled at his mask, revealing the trembling of Kakashi’s mouth, “do you? Do you see what you do to me?” The mouth that had been at his ear then found his neck, gentle where before it had been vicious.

Awash in sensation, he stood pressing his back against Genma’s clothed chest. “I can see what you do to me,” he answered as one mesh covered hand strayed downward, causing him to draw in a hissing breath as it smoothed over his arousal, which itself strained against the leather of his borrowed pants. Groaning, he tried to turn his head to take the other man’s lips with his own, only to be thwarted by a hand pulling back on his hair, forcing him to stare into the mirror.

Genma’s face flinched in annoyance. Kakashi wasn’t sure what the man wanted. He could see the way those hazel eyes had gone nearly black, their pupils dilated almost completely. And he found himself noticing how the hand not twined in his hair shook as it glided over the muscles of his stomach. These things he could see. But he did not understand what Genma wanted of him. “Look at me,” the other man’s voice came darkly in his ear as nails scraped over his skin again, “do you see how I have to hold myself back, Kakashi?”

He blinked rapidly at that thought. Genma leaned into him, a white-knuckled grip on his hair while his other hand did things to Kakashi’s body that should have been illegal…and then there were his eyes. Genma’s eyes fixed on him, burning at him and making his heart pound harder in his chest. “It’s so hard…not to just…gods, you have no idea, do you?” Consternation came over that tanned face just then, and he said, “Fuck.” Kakashi blinked in surprise when the heat of Genma’s body left his.

“Genma?” he asked, unsure what exactly was going on.

The shorter man said nothing, only started unbuckling straps and chains from his pants. After two straps and one chain had been removed, he handed them to Kakashi. Looking down at them, he was confused, which obviously showed on his face. Genma motioned to the straps. “Restrain me.”

“Excuse me?” Kakashi’s voice came out sounding not even half as incredulous as he felt. He soon found his back pressed against the mirror wall, with Genma pressed against him. The familiarly intoxicating feeling of the other man’s lips on his own assaulted him, and he gave a surprised moan when a tongue forced its way into his mouth. Heat built in his stomach as Genma’s tongue wound around his, coaxing and teasing until he felt he might go mad. And then it was gone.

Genma’s breathless voice panted against his mouth. “I want you to restrain me, Kakashi. Take those straps and tie me up…use the chain to hang me from that hook in the other wall.” When he tried to protest, he was silenced with a searing kiss, and when Genma’s hips moved against his, he heard a moan escape those talented lips. “You have to understand…” another kiss, “…how I feel.” A hand fingering the zipper on his pants made him groan loudly, “And I know you want this. You want to feel me…” the zipper came down and a hand entered his pants, taking hold of him and giving a firm squeeze, “…all around you. Don’t you…Kakashi?”

--

Iruka sighed. He was going to die if those two didn’t stop. At least now he had something to do other than watch them as they…he shook himself, well aware that he was going to need another long shower before bed. The throng on the floor below seemed to undulate as one, a writhing mass of sweat and humanity, but none of them paid any attention to the private debauchery going on in that dark alcove.

He had seen a few of his fellow ninjas here, though. It wasn’t a surprise to see Anko. She was the one that told him about this party. And it also was not a surprise to see her in the lap of a man twice her age, who looked like he was enjoying her taste in clothing—or lack thereof—very much, indeed. Iruka’s nose wrinkled. That was so not what he wanted to see. Kotetsu and Izumo were hitting on girls at the bar, all the while getting rather drunk themselves. It never ceased to amaze him that those two had more sex than he did. Well, it wasn’t for lack of him trying, but really…they’d sleep with anything that moved. Unless you count Anko. They had enough sense not to go there. What was a surprise was that one of the older, very married ninjas was in attendance, as well.

Nara Shikaku sat with his back against the wall, calmly sipping a large glass of something green, eyeing the crowd. Not certain what to make of it, Iruka decided his presence was slightly more suspicious than any of the others he’d seen, with the exception of the waitress. The shadow-manipulating ninja scanned the crowd repeatedly, as if looking for someone. He looked bored, to say the least. Perhaps he was waiting for someone? After a long five minute wait, Iruka watched a long-legged woman approach the dark-haired man, sidling up to him and whispering something in his ear. A smirk spread over the Nara’s lips as her painted nails played over his bearded chin. Then, Iruka’s breath caught in his throat. Black eyes turned from the dance floor to look straight at his hiding place. The barest twitch of an elegantly shaped eyebrow showed that the man knew exactly where he was, and Iruka swallowed hard.

“Shit.” He had the sudden urge to abort the entire operation, and he would have, had he been able to move. His eyes looked down, since his head was paralyzed in its current position. A black line ran over the floor below, winding from shadow to shadow, ever-changing as the dancers moved. The amount of concentration that sort of thing took sent his mind into a dizzying spiral of confusion. As he watched, the leggy woman disappeared into the crowd again, and Shikaku started walking in the direction of his little aerial cranny.

Having seen the technique Shikamaru had used during the chuunin exams, he was surprised to see that the man was using a different seal, and that he used only one hand. No…he used both. They simply were working independently of one another. When the man disappeared into the crowd, Iruka began to struggle against the jutsu. He didn’t know what was going on, but he surely didn’t want to be right here when Shikaku made it to where he was.

He began sweating profusely as he fought the paralyzing shadows he was in. But it was no use. Finally, he felt a finger of panic run down his spine at the voice in his ear. “Why, Umino-san…how lovely to see you…”