I Shall Not Want

A/N: There are a lot of aliases and things in this story; I hope it won't be too confusing. It confuses me a bit sometimes. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, even if it isn't chock full of exciting goings on.

Please review! My review count is pathetic.

What's also pathetic—or rather, nonexistent—is my knowledge of German, so if I've screwed it up, please tell me. I got the lyrics Schuldig sings from a German website, so I assume they're okay—let me know if they aren't the right lyrics to that song!

Beach balls and brownies to the betas, skatervalentine, cjandre and the inestimable bronzetigress.


Part 8: Stench and the City


Iruka's face itches from all the sweat running down it, and his eyes sting with grit and salt. He has a cloth tied over his mouth and a cowl close about his head, but the burning wind still carries fine sand and dust into every crevice imaginable. Whenever he bites down there is an audible crunch from the sand in his mouth. He doesn't want to spit to remove it, because even though in theory they have ample water for the journey, it's not a good idea to waste fluids in the middle of a trackless desert. He's already losing enough moisture through sweating, especially on his back, where his backpack feels like a hot lump of lead against him.

The six of them left Sunagakure in the capable hands of Sabaku no Gaara and Naruto the day before, late in the evening, and traveled all night. They slept in a cave through the morning and the hottest part of the afternoon. At least, theoretically the hottest. It is four p.m. and it's at least 110 degrees Fahrenheit, if Iruka can trust his internal thermometer. If it was hotter than this earlier...Iruka doesn't want to think about it. He longs for trees, shelter, and wind that doesn't feel like convection; it feels like he's walking across a giant, gritty frying pan.

At least the wind is dying off a little. Iruka has been eyeing the horizon, looking for any sign of a sandstorm. He's not entirely sure what he should be looking for. Sai's ink animals will protect them if a storm crops up, but no one wants to lose time huddled in a shelter. Sai would also lose chakra since he would have to constantly reinforce the ink to withstand the ravages of sand and wind, though Nagi's telekinesis might make that unnecessary. In fact, he considers, telekinesis—depending on Nagi's relative strength and how fast his chakra depletes—might even make stopping unnecessary. At any rate, there's no sign of a storm yet. Schuldig has assured Iruka that if the wind isn't blowing enough for saltation, it isn't blowing enough for a storm. Iruka can see the heavy grains of sand occasionally creeping along the ground, but they aren't lifting into the air. He puts his concerns about the wind on the back burner.

He's thankful that Kakashi—out of Jackal mode for the moment, thus freeing Iruka from Dagon as well—is allowing them to travel using chakra to keep from sinking into the sand. Since they are with Jei, even if they encounter guerrillas, stray patrols from the Iwa army or anyone else, they won't be detected through use of chakra. They move much faster than they would slogging through the sand like civilians.

Iruka looks up at Schuldig and Kakashi as they walk side by side in front of him, chatting amiably as if they are strolling along the seaside, instead of navigating a nearly featureless expanse of shallow, boiling-hot dunes. When Kakashi isn't Jackal, he and Schuldig get along famously. Iruka kind of figured they would; they complement each other. They have the same sort of perversity, sexual and otherwise—at least, they do if Schuldig isn't all talk—and where Kakashi has a kind of reserved, lazy, dry wit, Schuldig has a brash, obnoxious sarcasm. Iruka has learned to play off Kakashi's wit with his own, but he's still not as good at it as Schuldig.

Iruka almost wishes that Kakashi and Schuldig could be partners in Kurocha, since that would take some of the pressure off of both him and Kakashi. But, no—Schuldig has to be with Jei. Besides, if Schuldig and Kakashi were partners, that would put Iruka with Jei, and Jei still disconcerts him. Iruka doesn't mind traveling together with him, but he wouldn't want to be alone with him for a protracted length of time.

Iruka flicks his eyes to the side, casting a glance at the figure just behind him on his right. Jei is covered from head to foot with a cowl, scarf, gloves, white robe and boots. Not an inch of skin shows, and Iruka can't even see his bright yellow eye under his cowl. That white skin must be a curse in the desert, he thinks.

::You don't know the half of it, Delphin,:: Schuldig sends. ::You can actually see him get red within seconds if he stands bare in the noonday sun, just like tossing a lobster in a pot.::

Iruka has gotten used to Schuldig picking up on stray thoughts and responding to them. He doesn't complain about it; he needs to get acclimated to having someone speaking in his head, anyway. ::Why did he stand bare in the sun if it burns him so badly?::

Schuldig tosses a grin over his shoulder. He's wearing a cowl but his face is uncovered; breathing the blowing sand doesn't seem to bother him. ::I made him. I wanted to see what would happen. He was as curious as I was, I think. We completely roasted him. He was day-glo pink for two weeks, and shit did he get sick.::

::That's sadistic!:: Iruka is horrified at the scenario, but it sounds like something his students might convince another student to do. When he had students, that is. ::I take it that was when you were kids?::

::Nah. 'Bout a year ago.:: He pauses for Iruka to catch up with him, and pokes the grimacing brunet in the side. ::Of course we were kids, Delphin. I may be a sadist, but I don't make my friends deathly ill if I can help it. I didn't know he'd get sick.::

Iruka isn't really appeased. ::He must have been in such intolerable pain.::

::Oh, haven't I mentioned? Berserker can't feel any pain.::

::No pain? None whatsoever?:: Iruka asks, staring at Schuldig's pale blue cowled head. He can't decide whether that sounds like a dream or a nightmare. It's potentially deadly, he knows that much. He's heard of very rare instances of a condition where someone can't feel pain, but never a ninja, since it's invariably accompanied by a host of other systemic problems, from respiratory to neurological, circulatory to digestive. Jei hasn't exhibited any hint that he suffers from a systemic disorder.

::None whatsoever, internally or externally.::

::How does he know when he's injured?::

::Either he sees it, feels it through something other than pain, or someone has to point it out to him. He can feel the pressure from an injury, but the part of his brain that registers pain just doesn't receive any signals, never has. He gets medic check-ups at least weekly when we're not on missions. I look him over when we are; he doesn't do solos. He used to, but that didn't work out so well for a lot of reasons, including this one.::

::How did he survive as a ninja this long?:: Iruka wonders.

::Luck and talent. If you ever get to see him in a fight, you'll know how.::

“Yer talking about me, ain'tcha,” Jei mutters from just behind Iruka's shoulder. Iruka has never once been able to sense the pale man moving. He can generally get a sense of everyone else's position around him, even Kakashi's, but it's as if Jei doesn't even exist until he enters Iruka's direct line of sight, or that warm, gravelly voice runs across his ears. That voice now carries a thicker accent than Iruka remember from their meeting with the Kazekage.

“Mmm, I'm telling him all sorts of filthy, nasty lies,” Schuldig says, lifting his arms and stretching them over his head with a groan.

“He was telling me how he made you burn yourself in the sun--” Iruka begins.

“What, last year?” Jei interjects.

Iruka's head whips around as Schuldig snorts. “Don't listen to him. He knows how my mind works, yeah? We were, like, ten, I think.”

“Yeah, about ten,” Jei agrees.

Iruka grumbles darkly under his breath.

“Then I told him about how you can't feel pain,” Schuldig goes on.

“Aye. Don't feel like you have to go stabbing me in the middle of the night just to prove it to yerself, if you please,” Jei growls.

“I'd never--” Iruka pauses. “Is that something else you did when you were kids, Schuldig?”

“Oh, I still do that, if he pisses me off enough. It's okay, though; he always gets me back.”

“That sounds like a fun game,” Sai says from a little distance behind them. “Perhaps we should all play tonight.”

“Sai, we play that game with enemy nin all the time,” Iruka says, shaking his head in disbelief. He still has a very hard time telling whether Sai is joking about something or not. He's met ninja who enjoy pain, but not getting stabbed in their sleep. “It's called assassination.”

“But it is different if it is your friends,” Sai argues.

Iruka opens his mouth and then pauses, trying to wrap his head around this concept. “How do you draw a parallel between knifing your friends while they're asleep and fun?”

“It's an acquired taste, so to speak,” Jei says, and Schuldig nods solemnly, as though they're discussing a sacred native dish, like lutefisk or gefilte fish.

Iruka narrows his eyes. “You're putting me on.”

“No one will be stabbing anyone else in this group, asleep or otherwise,” Kakashi cuts in. “I don't care if you do it every night for fun, you won't do it on my watch. Got it?” It's obvious from his tone that he's teasing for Iruka's benefit, and the brunet bristles.

“Sir, yes, sir!” Schuldig, Jei and Sai all holler at once, followed by Schuldig and Jei both muttering “Killjoy” in sync.

Kakashi looks back at Iruka, his eye crinkling. “Better?” he asks.

Iruka rolls his eyes. “Don't stop everyone's fun on my account,” he mutters.

Schuldig laughs. “You're so cute, Iruka. You sure you're ANBU?” He raises a hand, fingers poised to pinch Iruka's cheek.

Feeling a demonstration is in order, Iruka strikes like a snake, wrenching Schuldig's hand back so the wrist is on the point of snapping. He meets the redhead's bright blue eyes evenly, neither of them pausing in their stride.

Schuldig is not fazed; Iruka is beginning to think nothing fazes any Suna ANBU. The man just grins and says, “Ah, point taken. But still, you're a little gooey on the inside, yeah?”

“Lay off 'im, Schu,” Jei says. “He's good enough.”

Iruka tosses Schuldig's hand back at him and walks on silently. He hates the way those two make him feel like a rookie, like he's in the middle of a hazing or some sort of initiation ritual. He's had enough initiation.

Kakashi drops back to walk next to him, as Schuldig starts chatting with Sai, and Jei falls back to walk next to the extremely taciturn Nagi. Iruka doesn't think Nagi has said a single word since the meeting with the Kazekage. It doesn't stop Schuldig and Jei from trying to get a rise out of him now and again, but Iruka gets the feeling Nagi is used to them ganging up on him by dint of long association. He remains remarkably unmoved, even when Schuldig gets touchy-feely. The most Iruka has seen the kid do is heave a sigh and jerk his hand slightly to the side, telekinetically knocking the redhead onto his ass. Iruka admires Nagi's fortitude.

Iruka hopes Kakashi's not planning to give him a pep talk, or something. Probably not; Kakashi has said that while on the mission he won't do anything with Iruka that he doesn't do with any of his new ANBU recruits, and he doesn't think that will change if Kakashi's taking a break from Jackal. More likely, he'll tell Iruka to man up and stop his pansy sulking, or something equally drill-sergeant.

Kakashi doesn't say anything, just walks beside him, matching his stride.

After a while—with palpable relief—Iruka stops waiting for him to speak, and relaxes, admiring the heat mirages in the distance. It is enough to know that even while Kakashi is his captain, he's still Iruka's partner.

*-*-*

The first signs of Kurocha, five afternoons later, are the kettles of vultures circling in the sky above the horizon. Iruka can't tell how far away they are, because of the way distance is distorted in the open desert. He doesn't really want to get close enough to see them clearly.

As they get nearer, a few of the birds ride thermals pretty close to where their little group is trudging across the sand. Not close enough for Iruka to see how big they are, but close enough to make him nervous. He wonders if the birds are scouting, waiting for them all to keel over so they can swoop down and gorge on their dead flesh. The ANBU troupe is also close enough now that Iruka can smell the water of the river, underneath a softly undulating scent of baking shit and garbage. He knows that smell is going to be smothering before too much longer, and the combination of the smell and the birds is enough that he's sure his displeasure is evident.

“You look worried, Father Dagon,” Sai says, confirming his belief. “You do not like vultures?”

“What's to like?” Iruka grumbles. He's given up trying to get people to stop giving him nicknames. And if he can't beat them, he might as well join them. “They're hovering up there, waiting for us to die, Mother Hydra.”

“You are mistaken,” Sai says, his eyes curving in his characteristic smile over the tan cloth covering his nose and mouth. “They do not regard anything that moves as food. They have no interest in us at all.”

Iruka smiles back, a little wry. “You've read about them.”

“Of course,” chirps Sai. “I have also read that while some vultures in other countries have a sense of smell, these do not. I think we will wish we shared that quality in a very short time, Iruka-san.”

“I already wish that.” Iruka's eyes fall on Kakashi. “I can't imagine how Kakashi is going to handle this.”

“With poise, I expect,” Sai rejoins.

“Or how an Inuzuka would handle it,” Iruka adds.

“Just breathe it all in as much as possible,” Kakashi calls over his shoulder. “Don't try to block out the scent. You'll get acclimated to it that much faster. You'll probably never stop smelling it completely, but if you keep breathing it in, by the time we get to the city it shouldn't be enough to bring you to your knees or make you nauseous.”

Sai claps Iruka on the shoulder, looking marvelously unconcerned. “Perhaps our olfactory senses will simply shut down from overstimulation,” he says.

Iruka grits his teeth and inhales deeply, chalking this up to yet more endurance training. He knows he can handle this; it's just repugnant. “I like people,” he sighs, “I really do. But when you get ten million of them together in close proximity, they really do make a mess, don't they?”

“It is hard to believe there are that many people in the world, much less all living together in one city,” Sai muses. “Even in Ame, there were not half that many people.”

“I wonder why the population had such a boom out here.” Iruka realizes after he says it that Sai will probably inundate him with potential reasons, but the conversation is pleasantly distracting, so he decides he doesn't mind.

“Well, for one thing,” Sai begins, “there are hardly any shinobi in Kurocha at all. So, the death rate is much lower than the birth rate. Then there are environmental factors; this area began as a purely agrarian society concentrated around the Kurocha River, which meant that anyone trying to work the land needed a lot of labor, and...”

Iruka listens with half an ear, focusing on the distant horizon, trying to see signs of the skyscrapers that will eventually peer over it. Apparently some of the buildings are higher than the tallest buildings in Ame were, and Iruka must admit he's curious to see the city in person.

Eventually they start passing the occasional dead, sandblasted tree. They pass quite close to one with a vulture perched on a nearly petrified branch, and Iruka is amazed at the size of the bird—it's at least four feet long, from head to tail. At any rate, Sai appears to have been right about the vultures being uninterested; the bird doesn't even deign to look at them as they walk by.

About the time they start seeing the cityscape of Kurocha in the distance, the sand turns into hard, pebbled soil and they begin passing patches of sparse, tough grass. They stop using chakra to walk on the sand about the time Iruka starts hearing the burbling of the Kurocha River in the distance. They're still roughly fifteen miles from the city, according to Sai. The smell of human filth gets stronger and stronger, but Iruka follows his captain's advice and doesn't try to block it out. It slowly fades to a kind of unpleasant background music; something he's constantly aware of on some level, but can ignore.

They find their way onto a dirt road that leads them past drip-irrigated orchards of almond and carob trees, crops of pale grain, fields of date palms, and rows of tall, spiny cacti that Sai informs Iruka grow something called 'cereus apples'. It's early summer, not harvest season for any of the crops, so there are hardly any people in the fields. The few that they see pay them no mind.

No matter how many isolated houses they pass, the city in the distance doesn't really seem to get any closer for the majority of the afternoon. Then—suddenly, it seems—in the hour of twilight, the city begins to loom very large. They pass the night in its shadow with a nomadic caravan, which is shepherding a herd of goats to market, along with wagonloads of copper ore and other gems and minerals to trade.

The nomads are quite friendly to them, sharing out their meal of roasted desert hare, prickly pears and yucca root in exchange for stories about other countries. Schuldig does most of the talking; it seems like he's been everywhere and done everything. Either that, or he's appropriated other people's experiences. From what Iruka knows of the redhead, the latter seems more likely.

Iruka's eye is drawn to Kakashi over and over, since his cowl and mask are off and his haircut is visible. Even though they probably won't run into anyone who would know who Kakashi is, Kakashi decided his hair was too distinctive for an undercover mission, and had it cut. It's only a couple of inches long now, and dyed peroxide-blond. His eyebrows are bleached as well. It looks patently fake, but it's very misdirecting—it doesn't look like his natural color would be silver. As long as he doesn't let his beard grow, anyway.

Jei is sitting next to Kakashi, and the two of them look like brothers. Scarred faces, pale skin and hair, and both with a patch over their left eye. The nomads seem wary of them, or perhaps just wary of Jei. Every now and then Jei will look at their shaman with an insidious hunger, fingers of killing intent creeping from his person for just a moment before receding. Iruka doesn't know what that's about, but he sees Schuldig throwing sharp glances Jei's way now and again, and figures that the redhead is keeping him under control. He hopes they can trust the Suna ANBU; he doesn't know if Gaara was able to spare the cream of the crop, or something more like the bottom of the barrel.

As Iruka watches, without even looking at each other Jei and Kakashi both fish a kunai out of their hip pouches and begin spinning them back and forth across their knuckles, perfectly synchronized. Kakashi catches Iruka's eye and smirks at him. Iruka decides that's enough; he's going to sleep.

He spreads his bedroll down near one of the fires, away from the central area where the goats and the majority of people are. As he lies down, he hears someone approaching him, and turns over as Kakashi unrolls his pad right next to him.

Kakashi sits down and lights a hand-rolled cigarette, something that the majority of nomadic men have been smoking all evening. He takes a drag and passes it to Iruka, who takes it and sits back up. Inhaling the smoke, Iruka finds it smooth and pleasant, with a strong herbal flavor he can't place. He and Kakashi pass the cigarette back and forth for a while in silence.

“Tomorrow,” Kakashi finally says, stubbing out the remains of the cigarette. “Schuldig will get us in with the police, and after that we're on our own. You ready?”

“I'm ready,” Iruka affirms. He's feeling very laid-back—not stoned, per se, but a lot more relaxed than he has been the past week or so. He hopes that means he'll sleep well. “I'm glad we finally made it. I hope we get a chance to shower soon.”

Kakashi grunts in acknowledgement. “The station will probably have showers. Schu will find us somewhere.”

“He is definitely useful, just like he said.”

“He's going to spend the morning setting up the team link while we walk,” Kakashi says, stretching his arms out behind him and then in front. “It's too bad he's not truly telepathic anymore.”

“This mission wouldn't be necessary at all, if he was,” Iruka muses.

“It would be like a deus ex machina, I guess. Too good to be true. Plus, from talking to him, I get the idea that back in the day he was entirely self-serving, so he wouldn't have been working for Gaara anyway.”

Iruka pauses. “Do you think we can trust them?”

“I think we can trust Gaara,” Kakashi responds, lying down on his back with his arms behind his head. “I don't think any of his ANBU would jeopardize our mission. Especially not when their Kazekage's life is at stake.”

“Even Jei?” Iruka asks cautiously.

“You don't like him?”

“I get a pretty bloodthirsty vibe from him sometimes.”

“Ah. People have said the same about me, you know. ANBU get that a lot.”

Iruka considers that. “Alright. I'll buy that.” He lies down next to Kakashi and is almost startled when his partner leans over and kisses him, softly, on the mouth.

“Night, baby,” Kakashi whispers, and lies back down.

Iruka doesn't say anything, but he takes one of Kakashi's hands in his own before allowing himself to drift off.

*-*-*

Iruka is beginning to wish he was not a ninja.

He's been trained since he was practically a toddler to have excellent senses—not as exquisite as Kakashi's, naturally, but they're pretty damn good. Usually he's proud of them. But now, those senses seem like a handicap. He's hyper-aware of his surroundings, and it's complete sensory overload. He can understand how a part of Schuldig's mind burned out, if he ever had to deal with something like this.

There are people everywhere. They cover the streets from end to end, chattering, laughing, hollering, or quietly focused, all relentlessly moving to what purpose Iruka can't imagine. He doesn't know what so many people could possibly have to do at ten in the morning. Every inhalation seems composed of a million kinds of incense, pomade, and cologne over skin, sweat, and always the garbage. His skin crawls as the people rush past him in noisy waves.

::Hang in there, Delphin,:: Schuldig sends. ::You'll get used to it.::

::I hope not,:: Iruka sends back, glad for the distraction. He never thought having a conversation with someone in his head would be comforting, but it is; it feels so private and isolated in this ocean of bodies. ::Did you finish the link?::

::I did. Try it out.::

Iruka hesitates, slipping around a pack of doe-eyed children with their hands outstretched. They have seen far too many such children since they entered the city. He looks ahead, putting them out of his mind, following in Kakashi's footsteps as well as he can. It's hard to fight the urge to grab on to his captain's hand or shirt so he doesn't lose him. If they have a telepathic link, though, even if they do get separated it should be okay.

::Captain?:: Iruka queries, feeling a little silly, even though he's gotten used to talking to Schuldig like this.

::Testing,:: he hears. It's Sai's voice. He wonders it's actually Kakashi, if it's possible to think in someone else's voice.

::You can,:: Schuldig answers, ::but don't. It's confusing enough at first.::

::Can I send to more than one person at a time?::

::Yeah, but it'll get harder when you're farther away from me. Just concentrate on one-to-one communication for now. Remember, I'll be able to pick up on anything you send to anyone.::

Iruka takes a quick look around, wishing Sai and Nagi hadn't left for parts unknown already. Nagi could keep people from constantly jostling them, for one thing. And Sai...Iruka's really come to appreciate Sai over the past week. Sai is like a pretty, sardonic encyclopedia, and he's always calm and pleasant. Iruka knows that's because Sai's emotionally stunted, but can't help enjoying the lack of drama.

::I still don't think we should rely on this method of communicating too much,:: Iruka hears, and that's definitely Kakashi.

::I know you don't trust it, Captain, but it's useful, yeah? You don't have to use it for anything but updates, if you don't want to,:: Schuldig responds.

::Right. Is it working the way it's supposed to? Iruka?::

::Yes, I hear you,:: Iruka sends.

::Sai?:: Kakashi again.

::Affirmative, Captain,:: Sai sends, and it doesn't surprise Iruka at all that Kakashi's already got the hang of sending to multiple people, some of whom aren't anywhere near Schuldig.

::Nagi?::

::Yes.:: The word is almost inaudible, but clear.

::I'm receiving you, too, Captain,:: Jei sends. ::I've located a station in the district you wanted. Seems there's been a pretty high turnover in this area, officers getting transferred left and right. Schuldig'll hardly have to do anything.::

::How far away are you?:: Kakashi asks.

::Right over your heads, Captain,:: Jei responds, and then he's suddenly in front of Iruka, slightly crooked teeth bared in a smile. Iruka's not surprised at how long and pointed his canines are; it almost seems amusing. Clichéd, even. ::Let's go.::

Iruka looks up to the sky, and then back down again. He's not given to vertigo, and he's never heard of getting dizzy from looking up, but in the midst of these towering buildings that's just what keeps happening to him. Some of these towers are a hundred stories high. He's used to traveling on rooftops, but this will be an entirely new experience.

Kakashi has turned to face them, and Iruka can read displeasure on his bared face.

“Captain Vogelscheuche, I promise no one will notice a thing,” Schuldig insists. “Come on, do you really want to slog through this sea of humanity all morning? We won't get there until sunset.”

“I don't really care how long it takes to get there, if it means the difference between being detected and being overlooked,” Kakashi says. “But if you can keep anyone from noticing us, I have no complaints about using the roofs.”

“Non-detection is our specialty, Captain,” Schuldig assures him with a bow.

“Let's go, then.”

They spring up the side of the nearest building, all staying carefully within Jei's range. Once on the roof, Iruka looks down experimentally, and finds that he doesn't have the vertigo looking down that he did looking up, even as high as they are. He is also profoundly relieved to be away from the constant press of bodies, enough to wish the four of them could stay together for this mission so that they could always travel this way.

Jei leads their tight-knit group out across the city blocks. Rooftop travel here is considerably more difficult than Iruka is accustomed to, because the buildings all seem to be different heights, and he has to expend a lot more chakra than he's used to just to get from one place to the next. But it doesn't take long before they're descending to street level again, in front of a run-down twelve-story building. It looks like a converted tenement building; the only indications of the station's actual function are the uniformed officers coming and going.

They approach the rickety front desk, where a bored dispatcher is reading an artillery magazine in a language Iruka doesn't recognize. Schuldig steps forward and sticks a hand in front of the man's face, as though showing him an invisible piece of paper. The dispatcher takes the nonexistent paper, sets it on his desk and stamps it—the ink glistens on the wood of the desk—and goes through the motions of stuffing it in a file cabinet. He waves them off to the weapons and uniform dispensaries, and goes back to his magazine.

And that's it; they're in. The simplicity is shocking, and Iruka wonders if the other shoe will drop after Schuldig leaves.

::But don't we need some kind of backstory? Information about where we've transferred from, or--::

::No one will ask you, Delphin, and you shouldn't offer. If you think someone's suspicious, let me know and I'll tell you what to say, but no one will be suspicious. I know my job.::

::But I don't even know what you've said my name is,:: Iruka thinks incredulously.

::I haven't. You should pick it out before I go.:: Schuldig's thoughts are lazy, unconcerned.

::Is that fake form really all we need?:: Kakashi cuts in. ::They'll issue us weapons just like that?::

::It's all you need, Captain. I know my job.:: Schuldig is beginning to sound a little petulant, and Iruka gets the feeling he abhors having to explain exactly how his jutsu work. Iruka wonders if he has been entirely truthful about not being able to manipulate minds from the inside, because Iruka can't see how they can pull this off otherwise.

::Just act like you know what's going on and you're exactly where you're supposed to be,:: Jei sends. ::You'll find everything else will fall into place. Schuldig's already scripted your acceptance here.::

::Scripted?:: Iruka asks.

::It's quite easy for him. People don't generally expect their thoughts to belong to anyone else, and as long as they don't fall outside the scope of normal experience, people's thoughts are simple for Schuldig to lead and manipulate, even if he can't alter them forcibly. It's as easy for him as breathing; you have nothing to worry over.::

Those thoughts turn Iruka's spine to ice. He really can't wait until he and Kakashi are on their own, and Schuldig and Jei are far away, concentrating on other things.

Kakashi and he pick up uniforms and weapons, which consist of dual tonfa, a taser and a few canisters of mace, tear, and pepper gas. After consulting Schuldig, Iruka signs out his arsenal with the name 'Ravi Morimoto', while Kakashi chooses 'Janak Ieyasu'. Too many names, Iruka thinks. He's been on undercover missions before, but he's never had an ANBU codename and a mission alter ego to deal with at the same time.

To Iruka's profound relief, they quickly locate a locker room with showers, and all four of them take the time to wash off the sand and road grime. Finally clean, Iruka pulls on his new uniform, itchy with starch, to try the fit. It's not anywhere near as snug as his ninja uniform; it feels like he could hide enough weaponry in it to sink an elephant. He's not sure if that makes him more or less secure.

Deciding now is not the time to ponder such things, he pulls his sand-colored uniform off and dresses in the only semi-clean outfit he has left in his pack, which happens to be the blacks from his ANBU uniform. They fit like a second skin; even a single secreted shuriken would be easy to spot.

As he puts his police gear away in his new personal locker, surreptitiously infusing the door and the lock with chakra in true ninja-paranoid style, he notices one of his fellow officers openly checking out his ass from across the room. Sighing, he reaches behind himself and snaps his fingers in front of the focus of the officer's attention.

The eyes jerk up to his, and he smiles sweetly. “Exit only,” he says, and turns away before his new comrade can become properly indignant. He hears a blustery, grumbling denial, and hopes he hasn't just made an enemy.

The police station really is a converted tenement building, and it sits in the middle of other tenements in a district far too shabby to have ever been considered bourgeois, but not shabby enough to be a slum by this city's standards. Iruka and Kakashi find a somewhat-furnished apartment that has an acceptable level of rat and roach inhabitation without too much trouble, and lease it for six months with a wad of imaginary Schuldig-cash that Iruka can't believe no one's ever going to notice isn't actually in the coffers. Schuldig assures him that he'll follow up on it well enough that even if the actual cash isn't there, the numbers will be in the proper bank accounts, so it's as though they've actually paid, and everyone will be happy.

Iruka supposes that logic isn't any more preposterous than the 'invisible hand' of economics. ::You know your job, I guess,:: he sends wryly.

::I do indeed, Sonnenschein,:: Schuldig sends back cheerily.

Iruka closes his eyes. ::And what the hell is that you're calling me, now?::

::Well, Ravi means 'sun', you know.::

::I didn't.:: Iruka sighs, walking to his bedroom and throwing his bag down on his new bed, which is a bare mattress on the water-stained wooden floor. ::Just stick with 'Delphin', would you? It's hard enough for me to remember who I'm supposed to be without you tossing in all these nicknames in some language I've never heard.::

The look on the redhead's face makes Iruka think he's actually hurt his feelings for a second, but he doesn't trust the inclination to apologize, so he just meets Schuldig's eyes evenly.

After a moment Schuldig gives him a toothy smile. “Sie sind mein Sonnenschein, mein nur Sonnenschein,” he sings, his nasally voice remarkably off-key and screechy. “Sie bilden mich glücklich, wenn Himmel grau siiiiind...”

Jei suddenly races into the room, throwing both arms around Schuldig's neck and clasping both hands over his mouth. His bright yellow eye is wild. “Don't let him sing,” he spits vehemently at Iruka. “I can't abide it. I'll end up slaughterin' everyone in this district, and there'll be so much paperwork...” He shudders.

Above the scarred marble hands, Schuldig's eyes are laughing. He gently pulls the hands from his face. “I'll stop; I'll stop. Only keeping you on your toes, yeah?” He winks at Iruka as Jei grumbles and retreats to the living room, twitching and scratching furtively at the back of his head.

The majority of that exchange has gone right over Iruka's head. “Um...was he serious?” he ventures.

Schuldig waves a hand. “Ah, don't worry about it, Dagon. I know how far I can push him and still keep the bureaucracy to a minimum, yeah?”

Iruka's certain that Schuldig's missing his point on purpose. “I don't care about doing paperwork, but if he's so unstable that he'll start killing civilians because you can't carry a tune--”

“Ach, everybody's a critic,” Schuldig grumbles. “You let me worry about Berserker, okay? We might screw around a bit, but we won't screw up a mission. Especially not one where Gaara-sama's life might depend on the outcome.” Like everything that comes out of Schuldig's mouth, that's said just a touch too flippantly for Iruka to be able to tell if it's meant sincerely or not.

Iruka shrugs, deciding that it's really best if he focuses on his own part in the mission and leaves his mysterious teammates to their own devices. “Gaara-sama said you two work well together, so I'll leave you to it.”

“Speaking of leaving, I think you and the Captain are settled in as well as can be,” Schuldig announces, clapping his hands together. He turns and walks back to the living room, and Iruka follows him. Jei is already hovering by the front door, carrying both his and Schuldig's packs. “It's time we were off, yeah?” The redhead taps his temple. “Call if you need us.”

“Report when you've settled wherever you're going to settle,” Kakashi says, slouching comfortably against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yes, Captain,” Schuldig says, and with a wink and a jaunty salute he leaves the apartment, Jei like a ghost on his heels.

Iruka and Kakashi both stare at the door for a few moments after the Suna ANBU depart. Iruka feels slightly uncomfortable; he's not sure how he's supposed to act now. It's the first time he's been alone with Kakashi as his ANBU subordinate, and since they probably won't be doing any recon until tomorrow, he's not sure if he should be Dagon or Iruka.

“We should get food,” Kakashi says, dragging him from his thoughts.

The idea of venturing out into the semi-darkness full of people doesn't appeal to Iruka at all, even if he is hungry. “We have ration bars left.”

“We need to familiarize ourselves with the area.” Kakashi's tone is flat, inflectionless. The Jackal is back.

Dagon quickly crushes Iruka's disappointment, his vague hope that they could have spent one last night together before this mission was fully underway. “Yes, Captain.”

Jackal nods and walks briskly through the front door, and Dagon follows without a tender thought or a backward glance.