Iruka spent the whole morning in the clinic with Hana. When the wild woman was finally finished with the little injured dog, she led the teacher out to another room as Kiba and Akamaru entered to wait for him to wake up. Iruka was miserable, slumping against the wall behind him and sinking to the floor. After quite a while, Hana finally sat beside him and spoke. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine!” he snapped with more vehemence than was really necessary. His face was still buried in his hands, muffling the words, but somehow amplifying the emotion. “I’m not the one in trouble. I’m not the one everyone needs to be worried about.”

“I’m not worried about Kakashi,” Hana said confidently. “He’s able to contact us, to a point. You obviously know all about this mess, so he’s not so bad off he can’t clue you in.”

“Everything I know is from the little things combined. These people have gotten so much right-“

“And if they’d actually broken Kakashi, it would all be right with no hints for you. He’s got enough of a handle on the situation, however bad, that he’s not helpless.”

Iruka nodded miserably, finally looking up. “You can look at this and still have faith-“

“Because it’s Kakashi.”

For a long few minutes, Iruka didn’t respond. Finally, with a shaky breath, he looked at Hana again. “You’re right. It is because it’s Kakashi and not you or Genma or Kurenai. If it were someone else, I would be able to distance myself, and if the worst happened, I would be devastated.” A pause, and Hana could see him struggle to keep his composure. “But if Kakashi doesn’t survive this, neither will I.”

Unsure what to say to that, Hana fell silent again. It had to be hard for him, to be so closely involved with the captured shinobi. To know, vaguely, what was happening – or had happened – and to be helpless to do anything. There had to be a lot of doubt and worry, all suppressed while he struggled with the mission itself.

After a long while of sitting in silence, Iruka pushed himself to his feet. “I need to go set up for class.” But he stayed where he was, nervously playing with the hem of his vest. “You’ll . . . you’ll let me know if Kiba finds out anything, won’t you?”

“Of course, Sensei. Be safe.”

-o-o-o-o-o-

Genma and Raidou were waiting for Iruka when he reached the school. They always helped him set up on Saturdays and the sight of something so normal, familiar, and right almost made Iruka break down again. He had to remind himself twice that these two wouldn’t know anything was wrong. Just like his children, he had to smile and pretend everything was all right.

One of the first to arrive was Sato, who took a seat in one corner where he could watch both the door and the window. Iruka knew that no one would notice unless they already knew about Kakashi, but to the teacher the move was so obvious it was almost painful. The class was fairly small overall, but it went by smoothly, in Iruka’s opinion. He very carefully did not talk about the things to look for when trying to spot spies, it would have been too obvious. He did thoroughly cover chakra concealment, with some demonstrations thanks to Genma, his not-quite-so-willing aide. It was a subject taught to younger shinobi, but usually only on basic terms. Iruka used several painful but not particularly dangerous or damaging jutsus, with Genma kindly providing an example of appearing happy, or scared, or unconscious, at least in terms of his chakra.

The key was clarity of mind and thought, something Iruka was struggling to maintain after the day he’d had yesterday, and the lesson was as much to help him focus as it was to inform his lethal students. More than once he caught Sato nodding approvingly at him. As far as anyone else knew, Iruka was just having fun with his friend and he caught several whispers, speculating about what Genma had done to anger him.

After three hours of this, and turning the shinobi against each other for practice, the class was finally dismissed. The Kakashi-imposter hadn’t shown, but Iruka suspected he would soon, maybe even that he’d been watching the whole time, though with Sato on guard, he doubted that one. The tall ANBU stood, striding confidently towards Iruka as the rest of the men and women filed out the door or transported away in a pointless show of their skills. There was another man beside him, closer to Iruka’s own height, and the teacher could feel his stomach twist in anticipation of something unwanted happening.

The man spoke in hushed tones, only heightening Iruka’s unease. “This is Ken, he’s also ANBU. Iruka, I think it would be best to eliminate you from the equation, let someone with more experience and training in this area deal with our guest.”

Iruka shook his head slightly, trying to be reasonable about this, but unwilling to back down from his point. “No, I need to try and get Kakashi back.”

“Now, think about it, Sensei,” Sato continued, still sounding far too calm about it all. “Ken can henge into you and this man would be none the wiser. He better knows how to extract the information. We don’t want you to be forced into interrogation anyway, if it comes to that.”

Iruka shook his head again, firmer this time. “No! If you move on him, we won’t be able to get to Kakashi in time! He has to be keeping in touch with his people some way.”

“We can move fast. Find out where they’re holding him and send out a team before we find out what he’s after.”

Iruka was ready to pull his hair. They weren’t listening. Ken was silent, but that very silence exuded agreement with his friend. It didn’t matter how good they were, it didn’t matter how fast they moved, if they acted now, Kakashi’s life was forfeit. “I may know what they want,” a voice at Iruka’s shoulder muttered. The teacher turned to see Shikamaru had joined their tiny gathering and was looking evenly up at the taller ANBU. “Iruka-Sensei is in a very unique position in Konoha and since he’s the target, they must be looking to take advantage of that.”

Ken’s eyes narrowed, speaking for the first time. “You’re the target?”

“He has to be,” Shikamaru answered in a lazy drawl, “or this guy would have acted by now and left. But think about it; Iruka-Sensei is a teacher, so he has access to anything in the school, things that non-teacher shinobi can’t even look at. On top of that, he’s the only teacher at the academy with jounin level clearance and he still has mostly free run of the missions’ desk and records room. He’s one of the only shinobi in the whole village that actually volunteers when it’s time to catalog that place, and isn’t one of those coming up fairly soon?”

Iruka was frowning deeply when the chunin beside him finished. It was all true, and obvious when he thought about it. “I don’t take solo missions,” he said slowly, cementing the theory in his mind. “It would be nearly impossible to intercept me outside the village; they would have to come in somehow.”

“All the more reason we should let Ken replace you. For your own safety, Iruka. We need to go to Ibiki, too-“

“No!” Iruka yelled this time, his voice rising instinctively at the mention of the frightening man. If Ibiki got involved there would be holding cells and various sharp and blunt objects and a good deal of blood. He had no doubts the man could get any information he wanted, but not necessarily quickly. “Sato-san, please-“

Iruka cut himself off abruptly as the classroom door slid open. He didn’t have to look to know who it was and his voice confirmed it a minute later. “Oh, is class over all ready? I really was planning to be here for some of it at least, but this pregnant squirrel needed my help stealing nuts from the pigeons.”

Iruka’s mood changed instantly, his lesson of the day clicking into place as he regulated his chakra. Somewhat desperately he looked up at Sato, but the taller man spoke before he could say anything. “I’ll go talk to Ibiki this afternoon.” He smiled softly at the slightly panicked look that passed through Iruka’s eyes. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to help you put together a lesson for next week. Keeping your head during torture would be a nice follow up to this week.”

The teacher’s fists unclenched, relaxing at those words. The other would go to Ibiki, he knew, but this little cover meant that they were going to wait, trust Iruka to figure things out, for a little while longer at least. “Thank you, Sato-san.” He turned to the Kakashi and smiled, waving at the men behind him as he strode over to the man. “Since you’re too late for class, you can just walk me home,” he murmured as they left the room.

Almost at once, the man’s long arm was around Iruka’s shoulders in a loose embrace. “You planning on studying torture techniques?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Iruka nodded slightly and lay his head against the man’s shoulder. “How to get through them and protect yourself and your village, even if you’re captured.”

“Hmm. If you want, I can show you a few things.”

Iruka sighed, letting his gaze fall to the ground and answering in a whisper. “At least if you tortured me, I’d know what exactly you’re trying to get.”

The reaction was immediate as the imposter’s grip turned suddenly steel hard. His fingers dug into Iruka’s shoulder, most likely leaving bruises for later. For his part, Iruka didn’t seem to react, still leaning gently against the man’s side. To anyone else, the two would still look like a happy couple. Neither said anything more until they reached Iruka’s apartment. The teacher calmly deactivated the locks and pushed the door open. The man at his back pushed with sudden force, making Iruka trip on the step up out of the entryway, but he managed to catch himself easily, standing there as if nothing were wrong.

His eyes darted over the living room before coming to rest on the hallway as a fairly young woman slipped out of the shadows. By the door, Kakashi’s voice sounded surprised. “What happened to you?”

The woman scowled, wiping at the blood that was slowly tingeing the shoulder of her tunic a vibrant red. “Bastard has this place wired. I thought you were supposed to take care of that!”

The silver haired man only shrugged, apparently unconcerned. “Well he kicked me out last night. If we weren’t rushed, I’d have found everything by next week, but the plan changed, didn’t it?”

Mentally, Iruka tallied the time; a week would bring them within days of the cataloging. Iruka couldn’t help an arrogant snort at the other man. “You honestly thought you could keep this up for a week? You were barely able to fool me for a day.”

This earned him a cruel smile and the man took a menacing step towards him. “And it’s because of that the plan changed. I should thank you for speeding things up, I know now we’ll need more time to get the information from you anyway.”

Iruka didn’t back away, staring at the man with his ‘you are in such shit’ gaze, something he’d developed for Naruto and perfected on Konohamaru. It was a look that even made Ibiki and the real Kakashi hesitate to cross him. “Where’s Kakashi?”

The man took another step forward. “If I were you, he’s not the one I would be concerned about, Iru-chan.”

Iruka scowled, upgrading his glare consciously. “You know far too little about me to think you can pull this off. The very second you walk in front of my kids, you may as well announce yourself to the Hokage.”

The woman, still across the room, smiled at the teacher. “Yes, but your class is over, Sensei. And you have nowhere to be until Monday morning.” Punctuating her words, the Kakashi-imposter suddenly struck out, one hand jabbing Iruka just under the ribcage, the other going to his neck and pinching off his windpipe as his breath whooshed out.

Iruka gasped on pure instinct, one hand gripping his attacker’s when he got no air. The man leaned close to the teacher, forcing him against the wall. “If you tell us what we need to know, you’ll find we can make it worth your while. He’s still alive. We can take you to him.” He loosened his hold, letting Iruka breathe again, and continued in a shaking voice. Kakashi’s shaking voice. “I-Iru-chan. Ah, p-please.”

Iruka shivered, shutting his eyes firmly as the man groaned as if in pain. The sound of his lover suffering so, even though he knew it wasn’t Kakashi, was difficult to ignore. Before he had a chance to recover, the man laughed, low and malicious, in a voice that definitely did not belong to Kakashi. It made Iruka cringe.

Suddenly the woman was beside him again, a small syringe in one hand. Iruka’s eyes widened when he saw it before he could try and contain the reaction. “Hold his arm, this’ll keep him awake.”

The man leaned against Iruka, pinning his body to the wall while his hands held the teacher’s arm steady. Iruka tried to pull away, but he was at a disadvantage in terms of strength and leverage. Quickly the teacher reevaluated his situation, upgrading it from ‘possibly dangerous to me’ to ‘Konoha in serious trouble’. If he got out of this alive, Ibiki was going to kill him. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pinch of the needle and began running through everything he actually knew about withstanding an interrogation.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Kakashi woke slowly, feeling surprisingly refreshed for the first time in . . . a week? Longer? No, he couldn’t have been here that long yet . . . he hoped. He’d spent so much time unconscious, it was possible he’d lost a day or two, but he certainly hoped not. Kakashi was careful not to reveal that he was awake, doing a quick check of his situation. He’d been out for quite some time and it had given his chakra a chance to rebuild significantly and for his body to adjust to its injuries.

They’d dislocated his shoulder. Kakashi’s whole left arm was vaguely numb from the disturbed connection. His fingers no longer hurt though; they’d stiffened up badly, but he could form a loose fist with almost no pain. His body had adapted; he could fight effectively if he needed to. His legs were still unharmed, too, though his entire torso was numb from pain, more than one rib bruised at the very least. It would be awkward, and more than a little painful, but he’d be able to run once he got the chance.

His own body tallied, Kakashi turned his attention outward. He kept his chakra back, low and even as if still asleep, and just used his senses for a long while. He smelled blood, mostly, and he knew it was all his own. Beyond that, though, he could smell the lingering scents of his captors. There was incense burning nearby, too, meant to confuse a shinobi’s sense of smell. With anyone else it may have worked, but Kakashi was practically an Inuzuka and his nose was very nearly as sharp as men from that clan and their dogs. He’d grown accustomed to gauging smell through his mask, and with that gone it made everything that much clearer.

After an exceedingly long time, Kakashi decided he was alone in the room. He couldn’t hear anyone breathing, and the smells were all fading. Cautiously he cracked his normal eye open and glanced around: the tiny room was empty. That determined, Kakashi lowered his head again and shut his eye, assuming unconsciousness again. Slowly he shifted his arms, gaining a sense of the bindings he was in now.

The first movement made his shoulder burn suddenly and vibrantly. Kakashi ignored it as best he could, mainly moving his right hand to minimize the sensation. His wrists were bound together behind his back, hooked around a pole of some sort. Shifting a bit more, Kakashi felt a rope tighten around his throat and remembered the choking sensation from earlier. Gingerly he moved his head forward, trying to figure out what they’d done without being able to see it.

The length of rope at his neck was also attached to the pole, keeping his head back. And from the way it moved as he struggled, it had to be connected to his hands as well. It was meant to discourage struggles and escape attempts, but it seemed rather Rube Goldbergian to the copy nin. Still, it was fairly effective, and eliminated several possible techniques he could have used. With sinking hopes, Kakashi realized what options he was left with.

Well, at the very least, he could keep his injuries to a single arm. He shifted to grip his left wrist with his right hand and took a deep calming breath. Then with sudden force and a fierce twist, he dislocated the joint. For several moments he didn’t move, using his hand as a brace while he fought off the urge to scream. It would only get more painful he knew, and he knew he could not wait for his body to adjust to this particular pain.

Gritting his teeth, he manipulated the limb until he had slid it out of the ropes. That task completed, he had enough room to throw the ropes from his right hand and did so as quickly as he could. Numb fingers went immediately to the rope around his neck, loosening it until he could slip out of that as well.

Kakashi took a moment to look around his cell again. It truly was empty and had only one door. With a sigh, Kakashi went to one wall and grit his teeth again. He had to work fast or risk his efforts being for nothing. He lined up the angle as best he could and rammed his shoulder into the hard stone. The feel of bone scraping together nearly dragged a scream out of his throat and it was all the more difficult to keep quiet because it hadn’t worked and he knew he had to try again. Three more times, in fact, before the bone popped back into its socket well enough that Kakashi could move the arm almost normally.

He sank to the ground slowly, dizzy from both the effort and the pain. Rather than take the break, he lifted his left hand again, repeating the bone manipulation until his wrist, too, was relocated at least well enough to work with. His head was beginning to ache again, from the odd stress of keeping one eye closed while the other was wide instead of the chakra pull of the sharingan itself this time. He needed to do something about that or he wouldn’t make it more than twenty feet out the door.

He had to wait for a victim.

Kakashi forced himself up slightly, and back to the pole he’d been tied to. It was actually a support beam, it looked like, left bare but clearly holding the weight of the ceiling. He looked at the rope and quickly went to work rearranging it. He looped a section around his neck, but free of the beam so he could move and breathe freely. With his back to the piece of wood once more, he twisted the rest of the rope around his wrists, reconstructing the look of the knot by feel and hoping it would appear the same. If it were Iruka, the teacher could have done it in half the time. Distantly Kakashi felt himself smile thinking of the brunette. His skills with rope had improved considerably in the year they’d been together, but he was still not even a distant rival. If it was Iruka here instead of him, the bindings may as well have been made of mist.

Thinking of Iruka made Kakashi’s chest tighten after a moment. He wondered what the teacher was going through, what he’d figured out. These people were from White, he was pretty sure. The village was abandoned, or supposed to be, but everyone knew there was a group that still lived there, training and building strength. No one knew why they hid in the ruins of a defunct ninja village, but they were known to value information and blackmail rather than fighting to gain status. It was ambitious to target a village as prestigious as Konoha, but they were clearly after something specific and it explained their skill with information as well. Please be safe, Iruka. With one last thought to his lover, Kaksahi shut his eyes again, adopting the look of unconsciousness and waiting for his chance to move.

-o-o-o-o-o-