Warlord

Chapter Fifty-Six

“Sleeping on the job, eh pup?” the loud voice boomed, startling both men from their doze.

“Ah, Jiraiya, ever the silver tongued bastard.” Kakashi remarked drily.

“You look like shit boy.” he remarked absently, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Aaaaa.” the warlord replied, “There’s lots of things I shouldn’t have to do . . . like waste time bantering with you. What happened at muster?”

“Apparently Uchiha believes he’s the best man for your job.” Jiraiya said conversationally, “He plans on grabbing control tomorrow, he seems to feel he has the support.”

“Well, isn’t that interesting.” Kakashi mused, “Any idea who’s thrown in with him?”

“Didn’t ask and don’t really want to know. Politics isn’t my cup of tea, pup.” the older man replied, “Now can I go . . . I have things to attend to.”

“Yeah, get out of here.” the warlord muttered, “Selfish bastard. I expect to see you at muster, I need to publically thank you for taking over.”

“That’s okay.” Jiraiya said, shaking his head and waving his arms, “Thanks anyway.”

“You will be there.” Kakashi said firmly, “Gai too.”

“Yeah, yeah.” the older man muttered, “I liked your father better.”

“Don’t talk to him like that.” Iruka protested, “What a horrible thing to say.”

“It’s okay ‘ruka.” the warlord remarked absently, “He has his reasons.”

“I don’t care.” the scribe said petulantly, lower lip sticking out in a pout, “I’m not going to let him talk to you that way.”

“And how did you intend on stopping me runt?” the older man asked aggressively, taking a step towards the scribe.

“Touch him and I take your hand.” Kakashi said coldly, freezing both men in place. “Get out of here Jiji . . . before I change my mind.” he growled, sending the white maned man scurrying out of the tent, leaving the scribe to gape at his lover.

“What was that all about?” he demanded, hands on his hips.

“No one will ever lay a hand on you in my presence . . . it’s my duty to protect you.” the warlord said stubbornly.

“I’m not some china doll you have to wrap in cotton wool ‘kashi.” the scribe stubbornly retorted, “I was a slave for most of my life . . . I was abused and beaten, I’ve been raped and drugged . . . and I survived all of it. Don’t worry so much.” he concluded, wrapping his arms around the tall man and giving him a chaste kiss.

“I care about you ‘ruka.” Kakashi said softly, “I don’t want you to be hurt ever again.” The two sat in silence for a long moment before the scribe finally asked “Who’s this Uchiha?”

“Uchiha Itachi . . . his family has always been influential. He’s a lot like me, an orphan who thrives on battle . . .the difference is he doesn’t care about anything but his own desires. He’d drive his troops into the ground if it suited him. If he was in power it would be a disaster, he’d be a tyrant. It’s crucial he doesn’t assume command.” The warlord explained, voice rising with his anger.

“Calm down ‘kashi.” the scribe soothed, “There’s no point getting upset over it now . . . you’re here and everything will be okay. Right now what you need is sleep.” he urged, worried about the warlord’s physical and emotional state, “In the morning everything will look clearer.”

Kakashi grumbled and tried to protest, but soon gave in to Iruka’s pleas and laid down on the bed, eyes wide open and staring sightlessly at the ceiling. “It won’t do any good if you just lay there and fret.” the scribe reminded him, “What do I need to do to get you to relax?”

“I can think of a few things.” the warlord replied, although the pain etched across his face belied the suggestive tone.

“Why don’t you turn over and I’ll rub your back.” the scribe suggested, “It will ease your muscles and make you more comfortable, at least.” He carefully helped the lanky figure roll onto his stomach before leaning over and pulling some oil out of his pack. He warmed some in his palms before placing both hand on tense shoulders and slowly beginning to stroke and press, adding oil as he needed to keep the motion frictionless.

Ever so slowly Kakashi began to relax, nimble fingers seeking out and carefully working every knot, moving carefully down long legs to tense feet, and along the pale arms to ease tight fingers until he lay limp and motionless. The scribe wiped his hands on a towel and moved his attentions to the shaggy mop of hair, rubbing soothing circles on the scalp until the warlord finally gave in and slipped into sleep.

I should go find Genma and see what else I can find out, Iruka thought as he quietly slipped out of bed. He pulled his clothes on and checked the warlord again, glad to see he was sleeping peacefully. He slipped silently out of the tent and headed toward the mess, hoping he’d find the courier there and not have to return to Aoshi’s, the last thing he wanted to do was interrupt them. Although, that might give Raidou a chance, he mused.

“Psssttt, Iruka . . . over here.” The scribe was startled out of his thoughts by a whispered call of his name. He looked around and saw a hand beckoning from between two tents.

“Kabuto . . . I thought you were dead.” Iruka’s mind was whirling, he didn’t want Yakushi to figure out he was on Kakashi’s side . . . if he hadn’t already. Hopefully his lie would be believed.

“My lover will be in charge after tomorrow . . . throw in with us and reap the benefits.” the grey haired man entreated.

“Your lover . . . Shimata Jun?” Iruka asked, finally remembering the name of the man he had met with who was so enthralled with Kabuto.

“No, Uchiha Itachi is my lover.” was the proud reply. “He’s stronger than even Hatake is . . . and with the old fool in charge it will be easy for him to seize control. Once he has it they won’t be able to take it back.”

“When is this supposed to happen?” the scribe asked anxiously.

“At muster.” Kabuto replied, mistaking Iruka’s anxiety for impatience. “So, we’ll see you there then?”

“Yes, at muster.” the scribe replied distractedly, “Good night.” He hurried towards the mess, needing to speak with Genma more than ever.