The Trick Is Not Minding

Chapter Five

Putting down the phone, Iruka headed back into the bedroom. He needed to figure out what had happened, whoever did this needed to be caught. Running a soothing hand over filthy silver strands the normally gentle teacher modified that thought, whoever did this needs to be killed.

Gently Iruka tried to ease off the blood-soaked t-shirt, but at the first touch Kakashi began to flail once more, so he relented, afraid the copy-nin would damage himself further. In his struggle to remain covered the jounin had worked the shirt loose from the back of his pants and Iruka stared in shock, eyes riveted on the newly exposed strip of skin. He reached out tentative fingers to trace the branded kanji proclaiming him to be the property of Kuroshin Aoshi. In a trembling voice he whispered the question that was now burning inside him “How long has he been doing this to you?” Because while he might be naive, Iruka wasn’t stupid, he knew this brand wasn’t fresh . . . and he knew what that implied.

He hadn’t really expected a response, so he was jolted by the raspy whisper “Fifteen years, since I joined ANBU.” Iruka’s head spun . . . fifteen years, he thought, he was only a teenager when this started. Once again, the chuunin marveled at the strength of the man before him, to have survived so much and still be so strong. He was pulled out of his reverie by a knock on the door. Immediately Kakashi began to panic, trying to lift himself from the bed and flee, brokenly chanting “can’t let him find me, have to hide.”

“You’re safe now, don’t worry, I’ll be right back.” Iruka tried to soothe the panicked jounin as he headed towards the door. Tired of waiting, Ibiki forced the lock and strode in. Grasping the chuunin by the shoulders he spun him around, taking in his defeated and bloody appearance. “What happened? Who hurt you?” The interrogator demanded. Iruka’s answer was cut short by a loud thump from the bedroom. He rushed back inside, Ibiki on his heels, to find the copy-nin cowering under the bed, pressed as far back in the corner as he could squeeze.

“It’s okay ‘kashi-love, it’s just me, please come out, I won’t hurt you.” Iruka crooned. Ibiki raised an eyebrow at the affectionate nickname, but remained silent, not wanting to further spook the injured, and dangerous, copy-nin. After much coaxing Kakashi finally relented, and Ibiki faded into the living room so as not to cause another round of panic. Once safely in Iruka’s arms again the jounin swiftly lost consciousness, blood loss and stress finally taking their toll.

Gently laying him on the bed, Iruka retreated to the living room and an impatiently pacing Ibiki. “Explain.” was all the interrogator said, and Iruka snapped up his head and replied equally curtly “Kuroshin Aoshi, do you know him?” “What does he have to do with this?” Ibiki wanted to know. “He branded him, beat him, I don’t even know what else, I haven’t been able to get him cleaned up, he won’t go to the hospital . . . fifteen years, Ibiki, he said this has been going on for fifteen years . . . why didn’t I see it, why didn’t someone see it . . . I have to stop it.”

The teacher continued to mutter while Ibiki snapped into action. First he called ANBU headquarters. “Summon Kuroshin Aoshi to the tower, and when he gets there . . .hold him for me. Oh, and set up a round the clock guard on Umino Iruka’s house until further notice, no one to go in except the sensei or myself.”

“Iruka, pay attention,” Ibiki growled, “we have to assess his injuries. Since he won’t let you undress him we’re going to have to either restrain him” “No”, Iruka shouted, “he’s had enough of that to last him a lifetime and I will not be a party to making this worse.” “Fine,” Ibiki bit out, “then I will need to sedate him so he stays unconscious long enough for us to treat his injuries.”

Iruka poked his head back in the bedroom. “He’s asleep.” “. . .or unconscious from blood loss.” Ibiki muttered under his breath. “You’re not helping anything,” the chuunin sniped back, uncharacteristically sarcastic as a way of dealing with the stress of the situation, “just do it already.” That said, the interrogator applied pressure to several points on the jounin’s neck. “That should hold him for an hour or so, at least long enough to assess this thoroughly.” “I was expecting an injection” the chuunin muttered. “Too dangerous until we know his condition, I wouldn’t want to put him into a coma.” Ibiki replied.

With Kakashi safely asleep Iruka proceeded to gently cut off his t-shirt, after all it was ruined already and trying to work it over his head could possibly cause even more damage. The teacher gasped when he pulled away the sodden material and got a good look. The copy-nin’s back was a wasteland of seared, flash cauterized tissue, bleeding in hundreds of places where the knife scores had torn open during his flight. With trembling hands he proceeded to do the same to the jounin’s pants, tears running down his cheeks at the evidence of repeated, brutal violation.

Drawing on all his training to maintain some semblance of composure, Iruka began to assess the visible injuries, wanting to treat the most dangerous ones first. Decision made he focused chakra in his hands and began healing the internal injuries; broken ribs, torn organs, and perforated intestine, before moving to the sluggishly bleeding surface of the copy-nin’s back. His eyebrows furrowed as the torn and blistered skin began to knit together, he could only do so much, he wasn’t a medic, after all, and this would leave extensive scarring.

Having done as much as he could for Kakashi’s back, Iruka carefully turned him over to check for more injuries. He was reminded of just how raspy the copy-nin’s voice had sounded when he saw the bruised hand prints ringing his neck like a brutal collar. Once again his chakra flared, and the swollen tissue of the copy-nin’s throat eased and his ragged breathing smoothed out.

Healing completed, Iruka scooped the limp form up in his arms and headed to the bathroom. He’s so light, the chuunin thought, so fragile. He cradled the copy-nin close to his chest as he quickly filled the tub with warm water. He washed and rinsed the matted silver hair, then quickly but gently scrubbed the residue from the pale torso and limbs, heart breaking at the scarring that covered virtually every inch. Once his charge was clean he drained the water and carefully toweled him dry, then moved back into the bedroom.

While Iruka bathed the copy-nin, Ibiki quickly stripped the now bloody bedclothes and remade the bed, calling out to the chuunin for the location of sheets and blankets. Coming in from the bath, Iruka laid Kakashi on the bed, then pulled out some old soft sweat pants and a worn t-shirt which he quickly dressed him in, waking up naked would not help him feel safe, and Iruka desperately wanted that.

The last few hours had turned the teacher’s life upside down. He had found out things about the man he deeply desired that left him feeling he had been enamored of a dream. The reality, however, was turning out to be so much more compelling. As he looked at the broken man, now tenderly tucked into his bed, wearing his clothes, Iruka decided that he would do anything and everything to help him. He would move heaven and earth to see this man smile again . . . and he vowed one day he’d be laying in this same bed laughing.

Shaking his head to clear it and wiping the tears from his eyes, the chuunin rose and went to join Ibiki in the living room. The moment he appeared the interrogator pinned him with his gaze. “Spill, Iruka, now, I’ve been more than patient.” The teacher took a deep breath and lowered his eyes to the floor. “I was walking home from the mission room when I found him collapsed in the street. He wouldn’t go to the hospital so I brought him here. I didn’t know then what had happened, I don’t know now, really, but I can guess. After I called you I tried to get his shirt off so I could treat his back, he fought to keep it and in the process I saw the brand on his back. That arrogant asshole branded his name on his back! I was so shocked, I asked how long this had been going on and he said 15 years, since he joined ANBU. Ibiki,” the chuunin’s voice broke and he had to stop for a moment before he continued “he was only 16 years old, for God’s sake, and there are so many scars, and I have to help him, but I don’t know how.” Iruka took a few deep calming breaths and tried to put himself into mission mode, knowing that time was of the essence and he needed to save his emotional turmoil for another time. “Anyway, thank you so much for coming and helping me, I couldn’t have done this alone . . . and I needed to guard his privacy.” “Your father was my sensei Iruka, I will always be there for you if you need help. This, however, is the sort of thing I’m good at causing, not fixing. The one thing I can do is to keep the two of you safe until we have Aoshi in custody. Go take care of him, I’ll take first watch.”

That said, Ibiki settled his bulk in a comfortable chair, and Iruka headed back in to sit with Kakashi.