(no subject)
Title: The Copy Ninja
Author: JBMcDragon
Rating: PG-13 for innuendo and the occasional curse word. The epilogue, which can be avoided without missing any story, is rated NC-17.
Status: Written, will be posted once a week over the next 7.
Genre: Drama, I guess, with a heavy dose of comedy and sarcasm. Mild KakaIru (until the end, when it's no longer mild. *grins*)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, nor am I making any money off of them. They belong to Kishimoto, to my knowledge, or maybe Toykopop or something. Just not me. Used without permission, and not for profit.
Summary:
...you've all seen this by now, right? Awesome. I'll post it up next week with the next chapter. ;)
Chapter Three
There was nothing that could prove he was himself. In fact, it was clear that the other him had already been through the place: Things had been moved. Perhaps, Kakashi thought morbidly, there had been evidence. But as always the other him was one step ahead. A hair smarter than Kakashi. A hair faster on the uptake.
Just like the real version compared to a clone.
It made his stomach turn. His blood chill. What had happened in those unconscious hours? Was that a true injury, or a blackout caused by what should have been clone-death?
"I'm sure it'll be all right." Iruka's voice was a murmur in the tiny apartment.
Kakashi resisted the urge to scream, to rave, to punch Iruka right in his sympathetic face. He was just angry--
Except he wasn't, and he hadn't gotten this far in life lying to himself. He was upset. What if the other-him was right? What if Tsunade's implications were correct? What if he wasn't Kakashi, but just a near-perfect clone? Not quite perfect. Not smart enough to get the one-up on his other self.
What if life ended in another few days? If it was decided that he was the clone--what then? Did they just execute him and hope that with enough physical trauma he'd vanish? If he didn't--would they go so far as to actually kill him? Or if it did work--what happened then? Clones didn't have souls. He'd just disappear off the face of Konoha.
"Kakashi?" Fingertips rested on his sleeve, worried and wary.
He stepped away. "It's fine. I suppose we should go." Turning, he walked out of the apartment, sensing Iruka on his heels. It was barely a thought to reset the seals that locked his door. Hands tucked in his pockets, shoulders rounded, he ambled down the corridor and down the stairs, finally walking back out into the sunshine. There was a briskness in the air that promised fall, soon. Leaves would turn colors and drop off to eddy down the streets, whirl around peoples' ankles.
If he remembered that so clearly, how could it be fake?
"It'll be okay," Iruka said again, like some sort of broken record.
Kakashi slanted him a sideways look out of a half-lidded eye. "When you say that to your students, do they actually believe it?"
The chuunin pulled back, shoulders rocking straight. "When I say it to my students, they're at least adult enough to take it for the consolation it's meant as."
Kakashi pondered the straight-nosed profile, the stiff carriage, and finally bobbed his head once. "Perhaps it's something they learn being in school. I skipped most of mine."
The dark-haired man seemed to accept it for what it was: An olive branch. Iruka relaxed slightly. "Look, Tsunade's not going to go around playing eeny-meeny-miny-moe with you and... you. Purely practically speaking, if she gets the wrong one she loses both. Better to have a half-powered you than no you at all, right? So trust her."
Kakashi refrained from pointing out that he had been, and the maybe-clone had gotten farther because of it.
They walked in silence for a while before Iruka spoke again. "You skipped school entirely?"
He inhaled deeply, letting his ribcage collapse with the exhale. "Mostly. I had sensei when I was still very young for training, and all forms of jutsu came easily, even if taijutsu had to be altered slightly to accommodate a smaller-than-usual body. It's harder to speed up reading and math, so I had tutors between missions."
"Between missions doesn't sound like a lot of schooling time." Iruka paused, thinking. "Did you just learn everything else faster than most people, too? I mean, I know you're supposed to be a genius--"
Kakashi looked at him, eyebrows raised.
Iruka flushed. For a man with dark skin, he certainly turned colors easily. "I did some looking into you when you ended up with Team Seven. Everyone said genius. Does that apply to reading, writing, and arithmetic?"
They wandered past the bakery Iruka had pointed out just that morning. Kakashi stopped, turning to look in the window, then went inside.
It was a full thirty seconds before Iruka caught up, looking annoyed. Kakashi grinned at him. "No. That's why I had tutors." Fighting, ninjutsu, shaping chakra, learning weapons--that had all come as naturally as breathing. Reading, writing and arithmetic, as Iruka had put it, had not only been more difficult, but boring when compared to battle fever and spilling blood. He'd still learned faster than most, as he understood it, but when his frame of reference was the physical arts... mental arts had been more of a hassle than anything.
He looked at the rows upon rows of breads and sweets, many of them showcased behind a glass wall that stretched the length of the building. The smell was overwhelming to a dog-sensitive nose. He pointed to a stack of fancy looking rolls, catching the proprietor's eye and lifting two fingers.
The man smiled broadly and opened the back of the case, loading the breads into a brown bag.
"But tutors between missions... well, I suppose if you didn't have many missions--"
"We were at war," Kakashi said with vast amusement. "Of course I had many missions."
Iruka's gaze turned inward, working something over in his head. "It takes years to teach kids everything they need to know about math, science, mythology, reading, the workings of luck charms, social studies, how to live off foraging, history, politics--not to mention enough seals and military knowledge to graduate with the basics of orders and ranks and whatnot. We can't fit it all in. It's why the jounin sensei are so important, to teach them even more tactical knowledge and codes and how to discern direction--" He stopped, catching Kakashi's amused eye. Iruka waved a dismissive hand. "Well, you know all that. Our Academy students get twice the amount of work the civilian students do, and twice the homework. Half of them fail out before they're nine. You couldn't possibly have fit all that into between-missions tutoring sessions."
Kakashi took the brown bag, handing over several coins, and wandered out of the shop. Not many people put together what Iruka did. But then, not many people were involved in actually getting all that information crammed into little pre-ninja heads.
"Some of that," he said, pulling out a bun and handing it to the man walking beside him, "I learned by doing. You learn social studies by being in a place, how to live off foraging when it's that or starve. Directional readings and good luck charms are passed on by other ninja--especially when there's not much else to do, waiting for the next fight."
Of course, some of it he hadn't learned. They paused at Iruka's building while the chuunin unlocked the doors, and made their slow way up a flight of stairs and into his apartment. Kakashi toed his sandals off, still holding his bun in the brown bag. Iruka was tearing at his, taking small bites and listening. Thinking.
"You must have been really smart," the chuunin muttered at last. There was a line between his brows, a mark of uncertainty. He didn't, Kakashi suspected, believe it was possible to learn everything from between-missions tutors.
He was right. Kakashi found himself speaking again, wanting to smooth away that disgruntled look. "When Minato became my jounin sensei, I was missing some important information, still. I knew enough kanji to puzzle out the key elements of any mission scroll, and not much else. He started me reading porn." Kakashi grinned at the startled look Iruka threw him. "I was in puberty. It was perfect. Got my reading comprehension levels up, and he figured if I could read and I could do things, then I had the ability to look up any other information I might need." He tipped his head, thinking. "Assuming, of course, I had the time to get to a library." Which wasn't a given in his line of work, but it was better than nothing.
Kakashi's attention fell back on Iruka, who was looking more concerned than anything. "I still can't tell you what the chemical-chakra reaction is, exactly," he continued, "that causes an exploding tag to go off. But I know where to place them and what to do for any specific explosion-shrapnel combination you need."
Iruka responded without actually contemplating his words. "The chakra acts as a small incendiary jutsu to--"
"I don't want to know. I think it's boring."
The sensei stopped, had a moment where a bevy of expressions crossed his face--annoyance, distress, some close kin to flabbergasted--and then he looked at Kakashi again. Really looked.
Kakashi pulled his mask down, tearing off a piece of bread and popping it into his mouth. "Funny when you find out the village icons are human, isn't it?" he said with great relish, and flopped down onto the couch.
That brought the quick flash of a smile to Iruka's mouth. He settled on a nearby chair, eating more of his bun. "It is. You icons should know enough to realize that being human is against the rules."
Kakashi chuckled. The air settled with the quiet munching of two men eating, leaving the conversation alone. Leaving Kakashi's thoughts to spin on themselves.
For a genius, he sure had screwed things up. Or maybe he wasn't a genius. Maybe he was just a clone. It was both soothing and unsettling.
"You're looking morbid again."
He jumped and looked up. "I am not."
"You are. All--" Iruka pulled his brows in, the corners of his lips down, and glowered at the table.
Kakashi snorted. "I never look like that."
"Maybe not when you're wearing a mask, but right now..."
He gave the other man an unimpressed look and yanked his mask up. Then pulled it back down to take another bite of his bread, but pulled it up while he chewed.
Iruka laughed. It was a surprisingly pleasing sound, a rumble of good cheer from a deep chest.
"So, I'm forgiven for the other-me's actions?"
Iruka stood, quirking a grin. "Yeah, I suppose so. I guess saying a clone did it is kind of a free pass..."
Kakashi stood as well, following shadow-like into the kitchen. "So chalk up one good point to this doppleganger mess. I can do anything, and get away with it."
"Better than 'my dog ate my homework,'" Iruka agreed. He wiped off already-clean sinks and shuffled canisters into corners.
Kakashi supposed he could step out of the entry and let Iruka back out, where he had the whole room to fidget in, but he rather liked the way the man smelled, and this close it was a constant. He pulled his mask down again and took a deep breath, relaxing and leaning against the counter. No wonder his clone had taken the chuunin up on the offer of drunken sex.
"So what about you?" Kakashi asked, just to ask something. "You're... not a genius."
Iruka snorted. "No. I'm normal."
Kakashi's grin brightened his face, arcing his visible eye. "I wouldn't say that."
The chuunin froze, peering at him as if unsure whether that was a compliment or an insult. Kakashi decided he needed to say such things a lot more often, because that expression was hilarious. He might not belittle people after sex, but he was enough of an ass to confuse them. Cheerfully.
"More normal ninja career. Graduated at twelve, made chuunin at fifteen, got a job teaching at twenty, been there ever since."
The thought of spending day in and day out with students made Kakashi's skin crawl. "Why did you go into teaching?"
Iruka leaned against the corner of the sink, settling comfortably. "I like teaching. I like kids."
This time, he really did shudder. "You're one of those, aren't you?"
"Those?" Iruka laughed.
"One of those breeding people who wants a passel of nose miners."
"Children, and no." Iruka grinned, obviously amused at Kakashi's horror. "I just like kids. I wouldn't mind one of my own some day, but right now I deal with other people's brats all day. And at the end, I can send them home. One of the perks of teaching."
Something relaxed in Kakashi's shoulders. That was a relief. He wasn't sure why, exactly--what Iruka did and didn't want shouldn't affect him--but there it was. "Do you have siblings?"
Iruka shook his head. His ponytail swung behind him. "No family."
Kakashi nodded. Some days, he thought there were more orphans than those with parents in all of Konoha. Maybe all of Fire Country. "At least they aren't pressuring you for grandkids."
The smile that twisted the man's mouth was wry. "And no family jutsu to pass on. You, though... the Hatake clan is pretty well known. You ever think about it dying out?"
Just when had this turned serious? He shifted uncomfortably, mind skipping through what would happen if his name vanished with him. Nothing, really. The dogs would be released from their summons, but aside from a penchant for being good ninja, nothing would be lost. He wasn't sure, though, that he wanted to discuss it. He smiled instead, and quipped, "I plan on making a host of clones and living forever through them."
"Good plan! You could have a Kakashi-harem."
"Exactly. You know, people pay good money to get sexually serviced by multiples. If all of those multiples had my stunning good looks and chakra technique, why--"
"Konoha wouldn't need to take any missions that are dangerous ever again! We could all relax and let you do the work for us."
Kakashi draped one hand across his chest, lifting his gaze skyward. "It would be a sacrifice, but nothing is too much for my village."
Iruka broke first, laughing and shaking his head. "Do you ever take anything seriously?"
Other than this shadow-clone problem, which he couldn't do anything about... "I try not to."
Iruka opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was cut off with the abrupt arrival of a hawk. It settled with deathly silence in the window. They both stared at it for a moment before Kakashi moved, striding across the room and taking the tiny scroll affixed to its leg. The bird spread glossy brown wings and leaped, a single down stroke taking it into the air, and another wheeling it away over the village.
Hawks were only used by those in high power. People like the hokage herself, and those with hawk-summons. Carefully, he unwrapped the scroll and scanned it.
If Minato hadn't taught him to read, one part of his mind reflected idly, he would have had to ask Iruka to translate. And he didn't want Iruka reading this.
He took a breath and called up a sunny smile. The energy to make it reach his eye, though, was lacking. "The Hokage wants me."
The grin didn't seem to fool Iruka. He nodded silently, solemnly, black eyes searching Kakashi's face as if he might find a clue, there, to what the paper said. Just in case, Kakashi rolled it back up and tucked it into a pocket.
Hatake Kakashi, it had read, we may have found a way to banish the clone without physical damage. Please pack a bag and report to T&I. Do not leave the village. Come immediately.
Scare tactics. Still trying to make one of them run, throwing around the Torture and Interrogation devision of ANBU. He wouldn't run, because he was the real thing. Whatever they did couldn't be worse than this.
**
Two ANBU fell into flanking position with them as he and Iruka raced over rooftops, heading toward the main building. He tried not to let it bother him, tried to remember it was another scare tactic, and tried not to think about ways to destroy a clone.
Pain, of course. Death was an obvious one. Pain hadn't worked. At least, not the minor pain Tsunade had inflicted, and major pain would damage the real Kakashi as well.
T&I were masters of genjutsu.
He dropped down from the rooftops as they neared the building, electing to go in through the doors. Iruka, who'd been silent most of the way, dropped with him. To the chuunin's credit he didn't jump when the faceless ANBU landed as well, seemingly materializing out of the shadows. Whether Iruka had noticed them already, expected it, or just had nerves of steel was anyone's guess.
They all held the silence as they filed into the building and down the stairs. The light was artificial, and the walls gray stone shimmered with seals. Seals you couldn't see, only sense, seals that couldn't be broken or destroyed. Seals to keep high level prisoners.
One of the men in bone and white stepped forward, opening a door. Kakashi went in, followed by Iruka, followed by the other ANBU. A quick glance back showed the chuunin seemingly as calm as if he was being escorted to the mission office. His scent, however, was filled with the sour tartness of crab apples. Stress.
Kakashi guessed that if anyone had had a sensitive enough nose, they'd have said the same about him.
They walked into yet another room, this one guarded by two more ANBU and furnished with two simple fold-away chairs. Anko sat in one. She stood, gaze flicking anxiously between Kakashi and Iruka. "You got the summons, too?" Her eyes landed on the Copy Ninja finally, face tipped up.
He nodded once. "Hatake here?"
"Inside."
Before anyone could say anything more, one of the ANBU stepped between them and politely--and silently--gestured toward the only other door in the room.
Two could play that game. Kakashi silently and politely inclined his head and wandered where directed, feeling the ninja follow him. He glanced back as he opened the door. The other ANBU that had escorted them stood beside Iruka, who watched with alarm.
"Sit down, Sensei," Anko murmured. "We might be here a while."
The hunter following Kakashi stepped into his line of sight, and gestured through the door again.
Kakashi turned and walked through.
**
There were few things in the world more alarming than being told to lay on a cot because you probably wouldn't be able to stand afterward.
They didn't say as much, but assuming you're alive was heavy in the air.
The room was white. White walls, white floor, white ceiling. There were a few chairs and two beds, one of which was occupied by Hatake, the other of which was occupied by Kakashi. Tsunade was there, and Eisuke, the torture specialist Kakashi had had the displeasure to meet once before. There was a doctor, and the requisite two ANBU. They flanked the only door like stone and cloth gargoyles, masks bright and smiling with black holes for eyes.
"With luck," Tsunade said, pacing back and forth at the foot of the beds, "this will be over quickly. If pain destroys a clone, then it might just take more extreme pain to destroy a jutsu-twisted clone." She stopped, facing them. "I'm sorry. We haven't been able to unlock that jutsu. This will not be pleasant, but physically you'll remain unharmed and you'll be mission-fit again--well, as soon as your other injuries heal."
Kakashi had mostly tuned her words out. He tried to find a center in the midst of emotional chaos, a calm point to focus on. He wasn't entirely successful.
"Try not to fight this," Eisuke said, leaning over. His eyes were bright red, hallmark of his clan, and his fingers twisted gracefully.
Then the world fell away.
**
"I don't like it."
Ibiki stepped out of the shadows, pulling his bone-white mask off, keeping the black cloak draped around his shoulders. "None of us like it."
On the bed, one of the Kakashi's twitched. Both Sharingan whirled.
"Eisuke seems to like it," Tsunade muttered.
Eisuke looked up quickly, wide lips flashing in a quick smile. "It's my job. I'm just pleased with a job well done, Tsunade-sama."
Tsunade said nothing, and the man turned back to his charges.
Kakashi's fingers curled, and relaxed again.
"Keep the genjustu to a minimum," Tsunade snapped.
Ibiki laid one gnarled hand on her shoulder. "If neither of them have banished yet, it is at a minimum."
She shrugged away from him, returning to pacing. When she got closer she stopped, hissing in his ear. "How are our ninja supposed to trust us if we can't even tell which is real?"
Ibiki didn't answer. He didn't think he was supposed to. After a moment, she turned and walked away.
**
It was a basic genjutsu. Some part of his mind was aware of that, cataloging things, even as he writhed in pain and screamed from a throat gone broken.
It was a basic genjutsu, but even a basic one could turn a man into a vegetable, make him weep with agony, beg to be released.
It seemed like every few minutes, it ramped up. Got worse. Which meant--both Kakashis were still there. Still alive.
His skin peeled away from muscle, dull knives twining under ligaments and stretching them out because the blade was too blunt to cut. He watched his fingers curl involuntarily as the tendons in his wrist--white and slick with blood--pulled and pulled and finally tore free with a sucking noise. And the pain didn't subside.
But his hand wisped into smoke.
**
"What do you think they're doing in there?" It was a stupid question. He knew what they were doing in there. Or he suspected, which was almost as bad.
"Sit down, Sensei," Anko said, attention fixed on her knitting. Knitting! He turned to look at her, at what was apparently a sock for a mutant freak, and went back to pacing.
"They've been in there for twenty minutes."
"And they'll be in there for twenty more, most likely. Sit down. You're making our ANBU friends twitchy."
He turned to regard the one at the door that led out, and the other at the door that led in. "He's one of you, you know. And they're--what? Torturing him? Because he did his job and got the jutsu the village wanted."
Knitting needles click-clicked. The masks seemed not to acknowledge him at all.
Iruka turned and sat down, shoulder to shoulder with Anko in the middle of the room. "What do you think they're doing in there?"
Anko didn't look up and gave him the same answer she'd given before. "We probably don't want to know."
**
Fire sliding inside his body, curling under his skin where he couldn't put it out, and more of him wisped into nothingness. His hand, his arm, his feet were going--
He screamed, and no one heard him, and he'd be damned if he was going to die after all this time, vanishing into smoke. He dragged a breath--genjutsu breath wasn't really air, some broken part of his mind giggled--and focused. The tiny drifts of mist halted, swirling back together, forming around his arm and hand and foot--
Becoming solid again.
He was not going to vanish into nothing.
**
"End it."
Eisuke glanced up, surprise on his dusky face. "But neither of them have--"
"End it."
Ibiki leaned close, pulling his white mask down over his expression again. "We won't know which is real."
"It won't matter if they're insane or braindead because of pain." Tsnuade's face was drawn in tight lines, the muscle in her jaw flexing. Perfectly manicured nails appeared and vanished as she clenched her hands. With a deep breath, she forced herself to relax and settle back on her heels. "It won't do us any good if we have the real one, and he's useless."
Ibiki nodded his agreement, melting back into the shadows.
Eisuke's eyes were closed, his face beatific as he unwound his chakra from their minds, pulling it slowly away.
One of the Kakashis--Hatake--shuddered and gulped a half-sob before he relaxed and slipped into unconsciousness. The other didn't so much as twitch before he went under.
For a moment, all was silent in the room except for the ragged breathing of two bodies recovering from strain. "Get them to the infirmary," Tsunade said quietly.
She'd tortured two of her own people. And they were no closer to a solution.
**********
Hey, guys! I haven't had time to respond to comments, for which I apologize mightily. But I read them all, and they make me VERY happy. Thank you. :D
J
www.jbmcdonald.com
Author: JBMcDragon
Rating: PG-13 for innuendo and the occasional curse word. The epilogue, which can be avoided without missing any story, is rated NC-17.
Status: Written, will be posted once a week over the next 7.
Genre: Drama, I guess, with a heavy dose of comedy and sarcasm. Mild KakaIru (until the end, when it's no longer mild. *grins*)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters, nor am I making any money off of them. They belong to Kishimoto, to my knowledge, or maybe Toykopop or something. Just not me. Used without permission, and not for profit.
Summary:
...you've all seen this by now, right? Awesome. I'll post it up next week with the next chapter. ;)
Chapter Three
There was nothing that could prove he was himself. In fact, it was clear that the other him had already been through the place: Things had been moved. Perhaps, Kakashi thought morbidly, there had been evidence. But as always the other him was one step ahead. A hair smarter than Kakashi. A hair faster on the uptake.
Just like the real version compared to a clone.
It made his stomach turn. His blood chill. What had happened in those unconscious hours? Was that a true injury, or a blackout caused by what should have been clone-death?
"I'm sure it'll be all right." Iruka's voice was a murmur in the tiny apartment.
Kakashi resisted the urge to scream, to rave, to punch Iruka right in his sympathetic face. He was just angry--
Except he wasn't, and he hadn't gotten this far in life lying to himself. He was upset. What if the other-him was right? What if Tsunade's implications were correct? What if he wasn't Kakashi, but just a near-perfect clone? Not quite perfect. Not smart enough to get the one-up on his other self.
What if life ended in another few days? If it was decided that he was the clone--what then? Did they just execute him and hope that with enough physical trauma he'd vanish? If he didn't--would they go so far as to actually kill him? Or if it did work--what happened then? Clones didn't have souls. He'd just disappear off the face of Konoha.
"Kakashi?" Fingertips rested on his sleeve, worried and wary.
He stepped away. "It's fine. I suppose we should go." Turning, he walked out of the apartment, sensing Iruka on his heels. It was barely a thought to reset the seals that locked his door. Hands tucked in his pockets, shoulders rounded, he ambled down the corridor and down the stairs, finally walking back out into the sunshine. There was a briskness in the air that promised fall, soon. Leaves would turn colors and drop off to eddy down the streets, whirl around peoples' ankles.
If he remembered that so clearly, how could it be fake?
"It'll be okay," Iruka said again, like some sort of broken record.
Kakashi slanted him a sideways look out of a half-lidded eye. "When you say that to your students, do they actually believe it?"
The chuunin pulled back, shoulders rocking straight. "When I say it to my students, they're at least adult enough to take it for the consolation it's meant as."
Kakashi pondered the straight-nosed profile, the stiff carriage, and finally bobbed his head once. "Perhaps it's something they learn being in school. I skipped most of mine."
The dark-haired man seemed to accept it for what it was: An olive branch. Iruka relaxed slightly. "Look, Tsunade's not going to go around playing eeny-meeny-miny-moe with you and... you. Purely practically speaking, if she gets the wrong one she loses both. Better to have a half-powered you than no you at all, right? So trust her."
Kakashi refrained from pointing out that he had been, and the maybe-clone had gotten farther because of it.
They walked in silence for a while before Iruka spoke again. "You skipped school entirely?"
He inhaled deeply, letting his ribcage collapse with the exhale. "Mostly. I had sensei when I was still very young for training, and all forms of jutsu came easily, even if taijutsu had to be altered slightly to accommodate a smaller-than-usual body. It's harder to speed up reading and math, so I had tutors between missions."
"Between missions doesn't sound like a lot of schooling time." Iruka paused, thinking. "Did you just learn everything else faster than most people, too? I mean, I know you're supposed to be a genius--"
Kakashi looked at him, eyebrows raised.
Iruka flushed. For a man with dark skin, he certainly turned colors easily. "I did some looking into you when you ended up with Team Seven. Everyone said genius. Does that apply to reading, writing, and arithmetic?"
They wandered past the bakery Iruka had pointed out just that morning. Kakashi stopped, turning to look in the window, then went inside.
It was a full thirty seconds before Iruka caught up, looking annoyed. Kakashi grinned at him. "No. That's why I had tutors." Fighting, ninjutsu, shaping chakra, learning weapons--that had all come as naturally as breathing. Reading, writing and arithmetic, as Iruka had put it, had not only been more difficult, but boring when compared to battle fever and spilling blood. He'd still learned faster than most, as he understood it, but when his frame of reference was the physical arts... mental arts had been more of a hassle than anything.
He looked at the rows upon rows of breads and sweets, many of them showcased behind a glass wall that stretched the length of the building. The smell was overwhelming to a dog-sensitive nose. He pointed to a stack of fancy looking rolls, catching the proprietor's eye and lifting two fingers.
The man smiled broadly and opened the back of the case, loading the breads into a brown bag.
"But tutors between missions... well, I suppose if you didn't have many missions--"
"We were at war," Kakashi said with vast amusement. "Of course I had many missions."
Iruka's gaze turned inward, working something over in his head. "It takes years to teach kids everything they need to know about math, science, mythology, reading, the workings of luck charms, social studies, how to live off foraging, history, politics--not to mention enough seals and military knowledge to graduate with the basics of orders and ranks and whatnot. We can't fit it all in. It's why the jounin sensei are so important, to teach them even more tactical knowledge and codes and how to discern direction--" He stopped, catching Kakashi's amused eye. Iruka waved a dismissive hand. "Well, you know all that. Our Academy students get twice the amount of work the civilian students do, and twice the homework. Half of them fail out before they're nine. You couldn't possibly have fit all that into between-missions tutoring sessions."
Kakashi took the brown bag, handing over several coins, and wandered out of the shop. Not many people put together what Iruka did. But then, not many people were involved in actually getting all that information crammed into little pre-ninja heads.
"Some of that," he said, pulling out a bun and handing it to the man walking beside him, "I learned by doing. You learn social studies by being in a place, how to live off foraging when it's that or starve. Directional readings and good luck charms are passed on by other ninja--especially when there's not much else to do, waiting for the next fight."
Of course, some of it he hadn't learned. They paused at Iruka's building while the chuunin unlocked the doors, and made their slow way up a flight of stairs and into his apartment. Kakashi toed his sandals off, still holding his bun in the brown bag. Iruka was tearing at his, taking small bites and listening. Thinking.
"You must have been really smart," the chuunin muttered at last. There was a line between his brows, a mark of uncertainty. He didn't, Kakashi suspected, believe it was possible to learn everything from between-missions tutors.
He was right. Kakashi found himself speaking again, wanting to smooth away that disgruntled look. "When Minato became my jounin sensei, I was missing some important information, still. I knew enough kanji to puzzle out the key elements of any mission scroll, and not much else. He started me reading porn." Kakashi grinned at the startled look Iruka threw him. "I was in puberty. It was perfect. Got my reading comprehension levels up, and he figured if I could read and I could do things, then I had the ability to look up any other information I might need." He tipped his head, thinking. "Assuming, of course, I had the time to get to a library." Which wasn't a given in his line of work, but it was better than nothing.
Kakashi's attention fell back on Iruka, who was looking more concerned than anything. "I still can't tell you what the chemical-chakra reaction is, exactly," he continued, "that causes an exploding tag to go off. But I know where to place them and what to do for any specific explosion-shrapnel combination you need."
Iruka responded without actually contemplating his words. "The chakra acts as a small incendiary jutsu to--"
"I don't want to know. I think it's boring."
The sensei stopped, had a moment where a bevy of expressions crossed his face--annoyance, distress, some close kin to flabbergasted--and then he looked at Kakashi again. Really looked.
Kakashi pulled his mask down, tearing off a piece of bread and popping it into his mouth. "Funny when you find out the village icons are human, isn't it?" he said with great relish, and flopped down onto the couch.
That brought the quick flash of a smile to Iruka's mouth. He settled on a nearby chair, eating more of his bun. "It is. You icons should know enough to realize that being human is against the rules."
Kakashi chuckled. The air settled with the quiet munching of two men eating, leaving the conversation alone. Leaving Kakashi's thoughts to spin on themselves.
For a genius, he sure had screwed things up. Or maybe he wasn't a genius. Maybe he was just a clone. It was both soothing and unsettling.
"You're looking morbid again."
He jumped and looked up. "I am not."
"You are. All--" Iruka pulled his brows in, the corners of his lips down, and glowered at the table.
Kakashi snorted. "I never look like that."
"Maybe not when you're wearing a mask, but right now..."
He gave the other man an unimpressed look and yanked his mask up. Then pulled it back down to take another bite of his bread, but pulled it up while he chewed.
Iruka laughed. It was a surprisingly pleasing sound, a rumble of good cheer from a deep chest.
"So, I'm forgiven for the other-me's actions?"
Iruka stood, quirking a grin. "Yeah, I suppose so. I guess saying a clone did it is kind of a free pass..."
Kakashi stood as well, following shadow-like into the kitchen. "So chalk up one good point to this doppleganger mess. I can do anything, and get away with it."
"Better than 'my dog ate my homework,'" Iruka agreed. He wiped off already-clean sinks and shuffled canisters into corners.
Kakashi supposed he could step out of the entry and let Iruka back out, where he had the whole room to fidget in, but he rather liked the way the man smelled, and this close it was a constant. He pulled his mask down again and took a deep breath, relaxing and leaning against the counter. No wonder his clone had taken the chuunin up on the offer of drunken sex.
"So what about you?" Kakashi asked, just to ask something. "You're... not a genius."
Iruka snorted. "No. I'm normal."
Kakashi's grin brightened his face, arcing his visible eye. "I wouldn't say that."
The chuunin froze, peering at him as if unsure whether that was a compliment or an insult. Kakashi decided he needed to say such things a lot more often, because that expression was hilarious. He might not belittle people after sex, but he was enough of an ass to confuse them. Cheerfully.
"More normal ninja career. Graduated at twelve, made chuunin at fifteen, got a job teaching at twenty, been there ever since."
The thought of spending day in and day out with students made Kakashi's skin crawl. "Why did you go into teaching?"
Iruka leaned against the corner of the sink, settling comfortably. "I like teaching. I like kids."
This time, he really did shudder. "You're one of those, aren't you?"
"Those?" Iruka laughed.
"One of those breeding people who wants a passel of nose miners."
"Children, and no." Iruka grinned, obviously amused at Kakashi's horror. "I just like kids. I wouldn't mind one of my own some day, but right now I deal with other people's brats all day. And at the end, I can send them home. One of the perks of teaching."
Something relaxed in Kakashi's shoulders. That was a relief. He wasn't sure why, exactly--what Iruka did and didn't want shouldn't affect him--but there it was. "Do you have siblings?"
Iruka shook his head. His ponytail swung behind him. "No family."
Kakashi nodded. Some days, he thought there were more orphans than those with parents in all of Konoha. Maybe all of Fire Country. "At least they aren't pressuring you for grandkids."
The smile that twisted the man's mouth was wry. "And no family jutsu to pass on. You, though... the Hatake clan is pretty well known. You ever think about it dying out?"
Just when had this turned serious? He shifted uncomfortably, mind skipping through what would happen if his name vanished with him. Nothing, really. The dogs would be released from their summons, but aside from a penchant for being good ninja, nothing would be lost. He wasn't sure, though, that he wanted to discuss it. He smiled instead, and quipped, "I plan on making a host of clones and living forever through them."
"Good plan! You could have a Kakashi-harem."
"Exactly. You know, people pay good money to get sexually serviced by multiples. If all of those multiples had my stunning good looks and chakra technique, why--"
"Konoha wouldn't need to take any missions that are dangerous ever again! We could all relax and let you do the work for us."
Kakashi draped one hand across his chest, lifting his gaze skyward. "It would be a sacrifice, but nothing is too much for my village."
Iruka broke first, laughing and shaking his head. "Do you ever take anything seriously?"
Other than this shadow-clone problem, which he couldn't do anything about... "I try not to."
Iruka opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was cut off with the abrupt arrival of a hawk. It settled with deathly silence in the window. They both stared at it for a moment before Kakashi moved, striding across the room and taking the tiny scroll affixed to its leg. The bird spread glossy brown wings and leaped, a single down stroke taking it into the air, and another wheeling it away over the village.
Hawks were only used by those in high power. People like the hokage herself, and those with hawk-summons. Carefully, he unwrapped the scroll and scanned it.
If Minato hadn't taught him to read, one part of his mind reflected idly, he would have had to ask Iruka to translate. And he didn't want Iruka reading this.
He took a breath and called up a sunny smile. The energy to make it reach his eye, though, was lacking. "The Hokage wants me."
The grin didn't seem to fool Iruka. He nodded silently, solemnly, black eyes searching Kakashi's face as if he might find a clue, there, to what the paper said. Just in case, Kakashi rolled it back up and tucked it into a pocket.
Hatake Kakashi, it had read, we may have found a way to banish the clone without physical damage. Please pack a bag and report to T&I. Do not leave the village. Come immediately.
Scare tactics. Still trying to make one of them run, throwing around the Torture and Interrogation devision of ANBU. He wouldn't run, because he was the real thing. Whatever they did couldn't be worse than this.
**
Two ANBU fell into flanking position with them as he and Iruka raced over rooftops, heading toward the main building. He tried not to let it bother him, tried to remember it was another scare tactic, and tried not to think about ways to destroy a clone.
Pain, of course. Death was an obvious one. Pain hadn't worked. At least, not the minor pain Tsunade had inflicted, and major pain would damage the real Kakashi as well.
T&I were masters of genjutsu.
He dropped down from the rooftops as they neared the building, electing to go in through the doors. Iruka, who'd been silent most of the way, dropped with him. To the chuunin's credit he didn't jump when the faceless ANBU landed as well, seemingly materializing out of the shadows. Whether Iruka had noticed them already, expected it, or just had nerves of steel was anyone's guess.
They all held the silence as they filed into the building and down the stairs. The light was artificial, and the walls gray stone shimmered with seals. Seals you couldn't see, only sense, seals that couldn't be broken or destroyed. Seals to keep high level prisoners.
One of the men in bone and white stepped forward, opening a door. Kakashi went in, followed by Iruka, followed by the other ANBU. A quick glance back showed the chuunin seemingly as calm as if he was being escorted to the mission office. His scent, however, was filled with the sour tartness of crab apples. Stress.
Kakashi guessed that if anyone had had a sensitive enough nose, they'd have said the same about him.
They walked into yet another room, this one guarded by two more ANBU and furnished with two simple fold-away chairs. Anko sat in one. She stood, gaze flicking anxiously between Kakashi and Iruka. "You got the summons, too?" Her eyes landed on the Copy Ninja finally, face tipped up.
He nodded once. "Hatake here?"
"Inside."
Before anyone could say anything more, one of the ANBU stepped between them and politely--and silently--gestured toward the only other door in the room.
Two could play that game. Kakashi silently and politely inclined his head and wandered where directed, feeling the ninja follow him. He glanced back as he opened the door. The other ANBU that had escorted them stood beside Iruka, who watched with alarm.
"Sit down, Sensei," Anko murmured. "We might be here a while."
The hunter following Kakashi stepped into his line of sight, and gestured through the door again.
Kakashi turned and walked through.
**
There were few things in the world more alarming than being told to lay on a cot because you probably wouldn't be able to stand afterward.
They didn't say as much, but assuming you're alive was heavy in the air.
The room was white. White walls, white floor, white ceiling. There were a few chairs and two beds, one of which was occupied by Hatake, the other of which was occupied by Kakashi. Tsunade was there, and Eisuke, the torture specialist Kakashi had had the displeasure to meet once before. There was a doctor, and the requisite two ANBU. They flanked the only door like stone and cloth gargoyles, masks bright and smiling with black holes for eyes.
"With luck," Tsunade said, pacing back and forth at the foot of the beds, "this will be over quickly. If pain destroys a clone, then it might just take more extreme pain to destroy a jutsu-twisted clone." She stopped, facing them. "I'm sorry. We haven't been able to unlock that jutsu. This will not be pleasant, but physically you'll remain unharmed and you'll be mission-fit again--well, as soon as your other injuries heal."
Kakashi had mostly tuned her words out. He tried to find a center in the midst of emotional chaos, a calm point to focus on. He wasn't entirely successful.
"Try not to fight this," Eisuke said, leaning over. His eyes were bright red, hallmark of his clan, and his fingers twisted gracefully.
Then the world fell away.
**
"I don't like it."
Ibiki stepped out of the shadows, pulling his bone-white mask off, keeping the black cloak draped around his shoulders. "None of us like it."
On the bed, one of the Kakashi's twitched. Both Sharingan whirled.
"Eisuke seems to like it," Tsunade muttered.
Eisuke looked up quickly, wide lips flashing in a quick smile. "It's my job. I'm just pleased with a job well done, Tsunade-sama."
Tsunade said nothing, and the man turned back to his charges.
Kakashi's fingers curled, and relaxed again.
"Keep the genjustu to a minimum," Tsunade snapped.
Ibiki laid one gnarled hand on her shoulder. "If neither of them have banished yet, it is at a minimum."
She shrugged away from him, returning to pacing. When she got closer she stopped, hissing in his ear. "How are our ninja supposed to trust us if we can't even tell which is real?"
Ibiki didn't answer. He didn't think he was supposed to. After a moment, she turned and walked away.
**
It was a basic genjutsu. Some part of his mind was aware of that, cataloging things, even as he writhed in pain and screamed from a throat gone broken.
It was a basic genjutsu, but even a basic one could turn a man into a vegetable, make him weep with agony, beg to be released.
It seemed like every few minutes, it ramped up. Got worse. Which meant--both Kakashis were still there. Still alive.
His skin peeled away from muscle, dull knives twining under ligaments and stretching them out because the blade was too blunt to cut. He watched his fingers curl involuntarily as the tendons in his wrist--white and slick with blood--pulled and pulled and finally tore free with a sucking noise. And the pain didn't subside.
But his hand wisped into smoke.
**
"What do you think they're doing in there?" It was a stupid question. He knew what they were doing in there. Or he suspected, which was almost as bad.
"Sit down, Sensei," Anko said, attention fixed on her knitting. Knitting! He turned to look at her, at what was apparently a sock for a mutant freak, and went back to pacing.
"They've been in there for twenty minutes."
"And they'll be in there for twenty more, most likely. Sit down. You're making our ANBU friends twitchy."
He turned to regard the one at the door that led out, and the other at the door that led in. "He's one of you, you know. And they're--what? Torturing him? Because he did his job and got the jutsu the village wanted."
Knitting needles click-clicked. The masks seemed not to acknowledge him at all.
Iruka turned and sat down, shoulder to shoulder with Anko in the middle of the room. "What do you think they're doing in there?"
Anko didn't look up and gave him the same answer she'd given before. "We probably don't want to know."
**
Fire sliding inside his body, curling under his skin where he couldn't put it out, and more of him wisped into nothingness. His hand, his arm, his feet were going--
He screamed, and no one heard him, and he'd be damned if he was going to die after all this time, vanishing into smoke. He dragged a breath--genjutsu breath wasn't really air, some broken part of his mind giggled--and focused. The tiny drifts of mist halted, swirling back together, forming around his arm and hand and foot--
Becoming solid again.
He was not going to vanish into nothing.
**
"End it."
Eisuke glanced up, surprise on his dusky face. "But neither of them have--"
"End it."
Ibiki leaned close, pulling his white mask down over his expression again. "We won't know which is real."
"It won't matter if they're insane or braindead because of pain." Tsnuade's face was drawn in tight lines, the muscle in her jaw flexing. Perfectly manicured nails appeared and vanished as she clenched her hands. With a deep breath, she forced herself to relax and settle back on her heels. "It won't do us any good if we have the real one, and he's useless."
Ibiki nodded his agreement, melting back into the shadows.
Eisuke's eyes were closed, his face beatific as he unwound his chakra from their minds, pulling it slowly away.
One of the Kakashis--Hatake--shuddered and gulped a half-sob before he relaxed and slipped into unconsciousness. The other didn't so much as twitch before he went under.
For a moment, all was silent in the room except for the ragged breathing of two bodies recovering from strain. "Get them to the infirmary," Tsunade said quietly.
She'd tortured two of her own people. And they were no closer to a solution.
**********
Hey, guys! I haven't had time to respond to comments, for which I apologize mightily. But I read them all, and they make me VERY happy. Thank you. :D
J
www.jbmcdonald.com