JBMcDragon (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} jbmcdragon) wrote,@ 2006-10-21 12:43:00 |
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Title: The Great Bathroom Mirror Escapades, Vol. 3
In Which Raidou Gets A Talking-To About His Sexuality, and Genma is Quite Put Out
Authors: MessyPeaches and JBMcDragon
Status: Complete, epilogue to be posted.
Rating: Er. There's one chapter that's like, hard R/soft NC-17. R overall for language.
Summary: Following in the footsteps of Volume 1 and Volume 2, shit happens. Momo and JB laugh.
Volume 3, Chapter 1
Vol 3, Chapter 2
Vol 3, Chapter 3
Vol 3, Chapter 4
Vol 3, Chapter 5
Vol 3, Chapter 6
Vol 3, Chapter 7
Vol 3, Chapter 8
Vol 3, Chapter 9
JB and Momo
Chapter Ten
She'd washed a few dishes. But only the ones she'd gotten dirty . . . Then she poked around until she found an old newspaper and amused herself with the different horoscopes, and the fact it was apparently fall here.
She'd guessed that yesterday, but still, interesting. She wondered if time just went a little faster in her own world.
When he was two hours late she sighed, gave up, went back to the kitchen and made herself a proper meal. She thought about the best way to apologize for standing Ibiki up . . . That killed ten minutes. Then she thought about the best way to explain *why* it had seemed like a good idea to go back to the dimension where she was potential experiment fodder. The concept of being completely disconnected was strange. After all, virtually no one in this world would miss her.
She stayed a little farther away from the windows after that.
After another hour, she'd pulled the sheets off his bed, wrapped up in a clean blanket, and fallen asleep.
As the sun peeked over the village, Amiri was woken by a rap on the door that, even though it was just a knock, still somehow sounded mellow. The question of whether or not she should open it was answered by a husky, smoke-roughened male voice calling, "Amiri-san? Are you in there? Raidou sent me."
She yawned and stretched, wondered where she was, and in all wasted a whole thirty seconds before her situation reasserted itself in her head. "He *what*?" she half snapped, untangling and walking to the door, trying to smooth her hair down one handed. She debated, then opened the door. If it was a trap, she was screwed anyway. And it probably wasn't, as she'd woken up at all. "Good, morning . . ." She had to pause, look at the sky.
"Yeah, morning," Asuma said, smiling around an unlit cigarette. "You're Amiri-san?"
She nodded. "Are you still Asuma here?" she asked, curiously. The places had changed, but the names remained.
He smiled slightly. "Only when I feel like it." He winked, a slow deliberate gesture that was obviously not meant to be seductive. Then he grinned. "Raidou said you needed an escort back to Kakashi's mirror, and also asked me to apologize for him." He chuckled and bowed. "He is very sorry. He was . . . detained last night." Asuma smirked and stepped aside so Amiri could come out.
She smiled back, and really wished she'd thought to bring a comb with her. "Detained? Did it go that well?" It had better be a damn good reason, she thought, sullenly.
"Ah . . ." Asuma scratched at his beard, thinking. "I got to the Toad and Shuriken about the same time that Raidou did. I didn't hear the whole conversation, but . . . um . . . " he smikred. "I shouldn't be laughing. I really shouldn't. But they started a bar fight and are both in jail. I suppose I *could* have gotten them out, since I have the rank, but I figured . . . if being locked up together for twenty-four hours didn't either solve things or kill them both, nothing would solve their problem." He smiled. "Did you convince Raidou he's gay?"
"I convinced him he was wrong about being straight. I think." Her lips twitched. "And you're probably right. Hopefully Raidou didn't get hit on the head or chicken out." She exhaled. "Tell him I'm vaguely annoyed about being forgotten, will you please?"
"I will. Although, in his defense, he did spend the next several hours being stitched and treated for mild insecticide poisoning. So he couldn't have told me, regardless." Asuma smirked again. Then he glanced at Amiri. "Is he this dense in your world? Mirror world, right? Is everything opposite?"
"I don't think it's . . . opposite. More like, distorted." She waved a hand. "No, no he's not that dense . . . I've *met* people that dense . . . But . . . Usually not shinobi."
Asuma smiled indulgently at his own thoughts. "Hmm. Yeah, Raidou is . . . special." He stopped in front of Kakashi's apartment, knocking twice and then just opening the door. He turned and winked at Amiri again, as if sharing some private joke. "Kakashi! We're coming in!"
Kakashi yanked the door the rest of the way open and stood there, shirt half undone, hitai-ate gone, and mask slightly crooked. "Ahh . . . hello, Asuma."
Asuma gave Amiri another little smirk. "Kashi-kun."
Kakashi twitched.
"I've brought Amiri back. And I'm telling Kurenai about the mirror."
"No one's supposed to know," Kakashi muttered.
"I know. I'm telling Kurenai." Asuma grinned. "Amiri-san, nice to meet you." He inclined his head slightly. "Hope you . . . ah . . . have a good trip."
"Nice to meet you, too." She opted for keeping her eyes down, this time. Kakashi had a clean floor. She leaned on the frame and pulled off her shoes, before putting on socks. She hadn't really wanted to be carried again.
"Thank you," Kakashi said, sounding vaguely disgruntled still. 'Kashi-kun' indeed. "Ibiki's in there, by the way."
Amiri froze slightly, eye flicking up to look at him, "Which one?"
"Oh, ah, sorry. Yours. He hasn't tried to threaten me once, which is nice. I think he'd like to, though," Kakashi said thoughtfully.
Amiri shut her eyes and exhaled. "How long?" She really, really, really hoped he hadn't been there _all_ night.
"Oh, not too long," Kakashi said thoughtfully. "Maybe . . . since nine? Not even twelve hours."
She winced. "All night?" Poor Ibiki. Poor *her* when she got over there and got to deal with the aftermath of what could easily have been half-panicked concern . . .
"Hm. I suppose. I was busy for most of it." He shrugged and opened the bathroom door. Then he paused. "I would offer to chase him off if you're worried, but I'm afraid I don't think he'd take me seriously." Kakashi smiled wryly. "But if you want to wait until he leaves . . . he has to leave sometime . . ."
"No, he doesn't," she said, dourly staring at the hyper-clean floor. "He's already *in* a bathroom. He's probably got, ration bars in his pockets . . ."
"Hm." Kakashi frowned down at the floor, hands in his pockets. "I could . . . talk to Genma. I'm sure we could make an identity for you if you needed to stay here . . ."
She looked up to see if he was kidding. "Huh? Oh, oh no, it's okay. I'd rather deal with my annoyed Ibiki than yours. But thank you. It's very sweet." She shifted her weight, left to right. Eyes back on her feet.
"Oh, all right," he said, and sounded more than a little relieved. "Well, then . . . ah . . . you're going to be coming back at some point, aren't you? Did you fix Raidou?"
"I don't know. I haven't talked to him again yet. He's apparently in jail right now. For a bar fight." It wasn't anything he wouldn't find out later anyway, she reasoned. "So. Maybe yes, maybe no? I'm a little curious but right now I'd rather just go home."
Kakashi nodded. "That's good. I'm rather tired of him being on the other side of the mirror, I must say." He smiled brightly. "I'll see you again, then!"
She walked to the bathroom without looking up, carefully, and stepped inside and waited. Still staring at the ground.
He was leaning against the wall when she looked up. Arms crossed, and face blank. She sighed. "Is the towel so I can climb out?" she asked, already certain it was. It looked out of place on the counter like that. Though in anyone else's bathroom it'd just mean that someone'd washed their face recently.
He smiled brightly. "Unless you'd rather be lifted again . . ."
She hopped onto it herself, as an answer. On one knee, she stretched a leg out through the glass. It felt . . . different this time. No resistance at all. Still kinda cold. "I'm good. Thank you, though. Oh, do you have any more letters?"
"Not yet." He smiled and scratched the back of his head. "I'll leave them here when I do." He paused, then, looking uncertain, asked, "Should I?"
She nodded. "That'd be perfectl- ah!" A hand gripped her ankle and *yanked*. Apparently Ibiki'd had enough of that. Half through the mirror now. She turned and attempted a glare.
Kakashi grabbed her upper arm and gave Ibiki a bland, bored look. "You sure you're all right?" he asked quietly, jaw not moving at all, making certain Ibiki couldn't read anything off him.
"It's fine." She patted his hand on her arm. "I'll see you later."
He hesitated, and then let go. "All right. Be careful." He gave Ibiki a lazy wave that somehow conveyed, 'I think you're an ass, just on general principle.'
Whatever Amiri said to Ibiki was lost, mostly because it was said outside of Kakashi's line of sight. Ibiki all but scooped her up and disappeared.
Kakashi's eyes narrowed. That Ibiki had *better* be nice. He knew his Ibiki, and wouldn't trust him with the care of another person. Still, if she'd decided to date him . . . he just really hoped that other Ibiki was a halfway decent human.
**
Ibiki walked her all the way back to her house before he started to speak. Not that his mood hadn't been broadcasted by the tense silence.
He was debating. Deeply, deeply debating. Because if he thought it out carefully enough, he could have what he wanted to say scripted out in his head. And he wouldn't just . . . do what he wanted to do.
What he wanted to do was extract a promise form her she'd stay the hell away from the mirror. And Iruka, in the process. Maybe the Iruka part was petty but he wanted to be petty. He wanted to shake her till _sense_ sunk in.
But he wouldn't.
Not like it'd work anyway.
The shake method of getting what he wanted had long been discarded. In favor of other, more subtle, effective methods.
He wasn't going to use those either. Mostly because he was _deeply_ fond of Amiri and would prefer she _stayed_ deeply fond of him.
Even if she'd apparently lost her mind.
Or at least her common sense.
For fuck's sake she'd almost had her brain frazzled with a unidentified tag because of the damn mirror! *Kakashi* thought everyone on the other side of the looking glass was more or less mentally out to tea. *Iruka'd* been lightly tortured! The Raidou they'd had for two weeks had been three seals short of a jutsu!
Ibiki'd been fucking *afraid*, dammit. He knew exactly how he'd deal with a perceived hostile with unknown abilities, and it involved a *lot* of needles and questions and very small rooms and unpleasant things that he knew *she* knew about. The woman spent at least a quarter of her shifts running T&I suicide watch, after all . . .
She opened the door. "Stop counting to ten in your head," she said, half under her breath.
"It's that or we can have this talk when I'm not cooled down," he nearly snapped.
"How long will it take you to cool down?" She sat down on the couch, starting to lean on her knees, defensive, then thinking better of it and sitting upright.
"Longer than I have," he said, tersely. And he meant it. He had work to do, dammit, and being the head of something like T&I meant that, while you got to make your own hours, there were a whole LOT of hours to be made . . . "Did you take a blow to the head, last time you played pole?"
"Nothing wrong with my head."
"Hrmmph. you sure?"
"Want me to go have a physical?" she offered.
"I want you to--" show some sense. Think, god-dammit. "Stay on this side of the mirror."
"I--"
"But you probably won't," he said, grimly. "I don't particularly want to have to find out how to wage a war through a five by five hole."
"I didn't think I'd be that long."
"We don't know who else can go through that thing. We don't even know if anyone else can, if they have anyone who can. We don't know the rules by which that--tear operates." Quantum physics were damn near a myth. He wondered how annoyed he sounded, how much his voice had risen. He exhaled, pulled back a little, sat down. "Going through it is like jumping off a cliff and hoping the wind'll catch you." Calm, collected tone.
"It's just a door," she said, but if she was going to peruse that argument she thought better of it.
Good. Maybe her head wasn't actually carved of marble tonight. "It's a flaw in the universe."
She didn't respond to that. He took the time to try thinking of a follow up that wasn't an attack.
"I don't think you're safe there," he said, finally. And it was only half a lie. He _knew_ she wasn't safe there. Because he knew what he'd do to someone who fell out of the sky for no reason. It involved hot things, cold things, sharp things and blunt things in combination with various mind-altering chemicals. He schooled his face and voice back to impassive because he knew she disliked it when he did. "You've been getting the mail through it?"
She just nodded.
"How often do you go all the way through?"
"Just twice."
Ibiki's brain growled out a sting of words that, if uttered, would probably have raised one or two old ones and a horde of zombies. He kept them to himself. A flicker of something dark went across his features but that passed quickly.
"The first time I was with either that Raidou, or that Kakashi the whole time."
Dubious bodyguards at best. That Raidou was a chowder-head (name edited to protect our rating) and that Kakashi was about as trustworthy as a paper katana. Had she not heard the torture story? "And the second time?"
She told him.
He wondered if his molars were going to shatter. This much pressure on them couldn't be healthy. Some crack version of Asuma'd had to get her back. Oh. Hell. No. He stood up in one motion and walked to the door.
"Wait--" She started to get up, go after him. Stop him.
"Don't," he said, slowly. "Don't. Block. My. Way."
She stepped back.
"Stay away from the mirror until we've talked about this." *After we've talk about this. In general. Forever.*
"Alright. When?"
In a month when I'm not pissed off. "Tomorrow." Maybe.
After he'd vented on six orderlies, two underlings, three walls and one punching bag in the training room that really hadn't deserved it _that_ badly.
**
They sat in silence, staring at cell walls. Raidou prodded at his swollen lip, felt the blaze of pain, and prodded again.
After stitches and whatnot, he'd managed to find Asuma and--when begging the other Jounin to get him out didn't work--convinced him to go help Amiri home. He hoped she wasn't *too* pissed off at him.
Then he'd landed in a cell for the next 24 hours with Genma.
They didn't speak at first, both nursing hurt feelings and hurt flesh. But Raidou wasn't good at either holding a grudge, or silence.
"I'm sorry I threw you into the mirror behind the bar," he mumbled.
Genma glared at the cell door. "Yeah. Well. I'm sorry I threw poisoned senbon at you."
Raidou rubbed where the tip had caught him, resulting in a few hours of horrific vomiting, diarrhea and a rash that was still spreading--despite the fact it had barely scratched the skin. "You got those from the other Raidou?"
Genma nodded without looking at him.
They fell silent.
"Did you really sleep with him?" Raidou asked, looking sidelong at Genma. "I mean, thinking he was me? You thought you were sleeping with me?"
Genma nearly winced. He put his feet on the cot, wrapping his arms around his knees loosely. He glared between his legs at the mattress, index fingers hooked. "Yeah," he muttered darkly. "So?" he growled, glaring up.
Raidou sighed and sprawled back on the other cot, staring at the ceiling. "You don't have to get all defensive, you know. Fucktard."
"Asshole," Genma muttered.
"Cockbite."
"Goldfish," Genma said, smirking.
Raidou looked at him. "Hey!"
"If the fins fit . . ."
"Very funny." Raidou fell silent. It stretched between them, comfortable now. "You do like me like *that*, don't you?" he asked quietly.
Genma was quiet for a long moment, shifting to rub one eyebrow with his thumb. "Yeah," he muttered at last. He shot a look at Raidou; half suspicious, half accusation. "You gonna bugger off again?"
Raidou scratched at the rash.
"Don't do that," Genma hissed, throwing lint at him and weighing it with chakra so it actually hit. "It'll spread."
Raidou rolled his eyes. "You're such a baby. As if the scar would matter."
"Not the scar, dipshit, you'll itch more!"
Raidou dropped his hand away from the rash. "Oh. I hadn't thought of that."
Genma rolled his eyes. "Like I said. Goldfish."
Raidou shot him a dirty look, but he wasn't looking.
Genma felt it anyway. He rubbed at the back of his neck, glaring between his knees again. "Why do you care if I like you, anyway? You suddenly realize you're madly in love with me?" he asked snidely.
Raidou snorted. "Don't be dumb."
Genma winced internally, but didn't let it show.
"It's just . . . Amiri and I were talking."
Genma mentally rolled his eyes. Amiri again.
"And she said I should think about the things we do, and the things other couples do, and the fact that . . . that I can't seem to find a girl I like but you're always there, and you don't have to be straight to have kids, and I get that twist-in-your-stomach-at-a-glance only not at girls, at guys and you and--" his face was slowly turning red. It went even darker when he realized Genma was staring at him. "Okay, so maybe this only makes sense to *me*--"
"Well, you're *babbling*," Genma said dryly, "but I think I'm getting the gist of it." He really hoped he was getting the gist of it. "You . . . might be interested back?"
Raidou rubbed at his scar, started to scratch the rash, and dropped his hand when Genma threw more lint at him. "I dunno. Maybe. I mean--wait, there was something Amiri told me to say . . ." He screwed his face up, trying to remember.
Genma snorted a laugh and shook his head. "Paraphrase?"
"Oh, but she said it *perfectly* so no one would get hurt . . ."
Genma didn't think that was possible, in his admittedly limited experience of crushes and breakups.
"Damn. Well, it was like, you're my best friend and I'd like to try dating, but it might not work out and I still want you to be my best friend. 'Cause I might not be gay." Raidou looked up hopefully.
Genma smiled. He laughed quietly, scratching the back of his head and rolling another lint ball. "Dating?"
Raidou nodded.
Dating. Now that was a novel concept. "I could try dating," Genma said slowly. Dating *Raidou*.
"I might not be gay," Raidou said again, a warning in his tone. "We're just *trying.*"
Genma nodded quickly. "Yeah. Okay. That's cool." Raidou was gay. He already knew that, and he just really hoped they worked as well as he'd been imagining all this time.
Or half that well.
Even an eighth that well would be phenomenal.
"Okay." Raidou smiled slowly and relaxed back against his cot. "Okay," he said again.
Genma laughed softly and threw a lint ball. It bounced off Raidou's chest, rolled, and settled on his stomach.
Dating. *Damn.*
"But Amiri said we should take it slow," Raidou said quickly, lifting head and shoulders off the cot and doing amazing things to his abdomen in the process, things Genma could see even through the thin cloth of his shirt. "Like . . . slow. Not jumping into bed. 'Cause we've neither of us had real relationships."
Slow. Damn. Genma sighed and nodded, though. "Sure. We can go as slow as you want." He'd waited this long, he could wait a little longer for the physical side of things. At least now he had a shot.
Dating. He snorted a laugh. What a week.
**
It took Ibiki five days to calm down. An extra two just to be certain.
Another three when he found out that she'd agreed to water the other Kakashi's plant if he went out on missions.
At day ten he gave up. He was never going to be cool enough for this. No matter how much he trained or sparred or how many hours he spent listening to overly loud opera in forgotten dialects of the north while tying the rigging of a 1/18th scale merchant ship.
Maybe he was just, thinking about all this wrong. There had to be _some_ sort of benefit to a dimensional hole to Konoha2. And if he distanced himself a little . . . and he was good at that . . . what he had was a hole to a potentially hostile shinobi village, and at least three sympathetic inhabitants that'd harbor an operative.
Normally that'd make him happy.
And then, when he was finally ready to again attempt a talk . . .
She wasn't there. At least, not at her house. Or at the hospital. Fuck fuck. *Try not to get mad again.*
She was home the second time he tried. Still in scrubs. She let him in without a word.
"Heard about your plant sitting," he said simply. Big boots by the door. He walked towards the kitchen without a sound.
"You can take your jacket off to yell, you know," she offered.
"I'm not yelling." But he took his jacket off. Backtracked to hang it on the hook. She'd installed a heavy-duty hook after the heavy leather of his coat yanked the first three out. He stared at the wall a second before going to the kitchen.
"You're a very quiet yeller, is what you mean," she said, following.
"No, I meant that I'm not yelling," he said, calmly. Putting a pot on to boil. "Coffee or tea?"
"Coffee."
He got the things out then turned, leaned back on the counter. There was uncomfortable silence for a moment. He let it sit, feeling relaxed. He was good with silence. Uncomfortable silence was really one of his favorites. Easy to create, people behaved fairly predictably in it and-- He sighed and shut off that part of his brain, breaking the silence himself. "I still think it's idiotic."
"It probably is," she agreed.
"Then why?" He wanted to know. It was what he got stuck on.
"It seems like, there aren't many people to talk to over there," she said, finally. "If that makes sense."
It was like she'd found a stray puppy. He almost wished she had. A puppy would be easier to deal with. Even if he preferred cats. Cats were nice. Cats minded their own fucking business. "It doesn't."
"No, it doesn't. Logically." She shrugged a little. "I think I've been helpful there."
"You're much more useful here." More needed, most definitely. And safer. Was it just to much to want her to be safe?
"That Raidou needed someone to talk to. It's my fault he was so, well, extra confused," she said, after a moment. "He's a friend that needed help."
"That doesn't make it safe. Can't Raidou . . . sit on the counter or something?" Ibiki said, sensing defeat. Oh gods why had he gone and let her meet the noodle brained Raidou? Should have just kept her out of it entirely. "Write letters."
"I wasn't planning on going over there again. At least not out of that Kakashi's place."
"Whose plants you water."
"Haven't yet, but I've been asked," she confirmed. The teapot started to shriek from the stovetop and she watched him turn off the flame.
"In spite of the fact he tortured Iruka," he said, pouring scalding water into the coffee press. Lid went on, plunger went down, pinning the grounds.
"He tortured an intruder," she said, in reply, getting cream out of the fridge. "Because he thought his Iruka had been stolen."
He poured her cup first, watched her add cream. "And that's a good enough reason?"
She looked at him, eyebrow starting to arch and remaining level only through what must have been a Herculean feat of self-control. It still ended up a *look*.
Ibiki was well, *well* aware of the hypocrisy in his statement. But he didn't care. "Just because a thing is necessary doesn't make it less unpleasant."
"I don't think they're bad people. Not the ones I talked too." There was an 'except' in there, he could *smell* it. "They told me they'd get me home in alive and in one piece, I believed them."
"Uh-huh," he said, letting obvious doubt fill his voice. He reached over, gave her braid a flick. The tight, glossy black hair was at mid-shoulder blade when it was woven that tight. "One piece, huh?" He filled his cup, took a sip straight before adding some cream as well. "I don't like it."
"It'll grow back," she said, shrugging.
"Not the hair. You hopping through," he clarified automatically before realizing she probably understood the question just fine.
"I'm not planning on renting a house over there, or anything," Amiri said. "But Raidou and Genma, they, at least, are good people. And that Kakashi's not evil. Just disturbed."
In theory he could just . . . order her not to. He thought about that, followed that train of thought to its likely crash site, and decided to avoid it. For now. The idea went on a back burner anyway.
"I'm not going to stop you. We don't know the rules to controlling it," he said, eyes shutting. "How safe do you feel over there?" Operative in potentially hostile camp. Just keep thinking that.
"About as safe as doing suicide watch?" she said, sipping her coffee. "Safe in theory but not entirely certain that the person I'm looking at hasn't discovered a way to resist sedation?"
He nodded and wondered if she'd been working on that analogy. It didn't matter. "I want to know when you go through. I'm not going to make you write out mission reports about it . . ." Yet . . . "But as long as it's operating we might as well gather some intel about that world."
"Want newspapers?"
"Newspapers. Anything you hear about politics, economy. Anything can be useful," he said, pouring more coffee. There wasn't enough left for a cup. He set about boiling more water. "It'll be an unofficial mission."
"All right." She caught his arm, leaned against him. "Took you ten days to think this up?"
"No. It took me one day to think it up, and nine to cool down," he said, looking at her. "We're not at war with them, they aren't allies, and I doubt they have any idea how to fight through a mirror either. So it's more important you keep coming back than you retrieve any sort of important information."
"All right."
"So don't *piss* anyone off stealing newspapers."
"Give me some credit."
"Give me some slack. I'm allowed to worry."
Amiri's lips twitched, and she leaned up and in to kiss his cheek. "Deal."
He set down his cup, slid an arm around her waist. "Deal."
*************************
Next: Epilogue!
In Which Raidou Gets A Talking-To About His Sexuality, and Genma is Quite Put Out
Authors: MessyPeaches and JBMcDragon
Status: Complete, epilogue to be posted.
Rating: Er. There's one chapter that's like, hard R/soft NC-17. R overall for language.
Summary: Following in the footsteps of Volume 1 and Volume 2, shit happens. Momo and JB laugh.
Volume 3, Chapter 1
Vol 3, Chapter 2
Vol 3, Chapter 3
Vol 3, Chapter 4
Vol 3, Chapter 5
Vol 3, Chapter 6
Vol 3, Chapter 7
Vol 3, Chapter 8
Vol 3, Chapter 9
JB and Momo
Chapter Ten
She'd washed a few dishes. But only the ones she'd gotten dirty . . . Then she poked around until she found an old newspaper and amused herself with the different horoscopes, and the fact it was apparently fall here.
She'd guessed that yesterday, but still, interesting. She wondered if time just went a little faster in her own world.
When he was two hours late she sighed, gave up, went back to the kitchen and made herself a proper meal. She thought about the best way to apologize for standing Ibiki up . . . That killed ten minutes. Then she thought about the best way to explain *why* it had seemed like a good idea to go back to the dimension where she was potential experiment fodder. The concept of being completely disconnected was strange. After all, virtually no one in this world would miss her.
She stayed a little farther away from the windows after that.
After another hour, she'd pulled the sheets off his bed, wrapped up in a clean blanket, and fallen asleep.
As the sun peeked over the village, Amiri was woken by a rap on the door that, even though it was just a knock, still somehow sounded mellow. The question of whether or not she should open it was answered by a husky, smoke-roughened male voice calling, "Amiri-san? Are you in there? Raidou sent me."
She yawned and stretched, wondered where she was, and in all wasted a whole thirty seconds before her situation reasserted itself in her head. "He *what*?" she half snapped, untangling and walking to the door, trying to smooth her hair down one handed. She debated, then opened the door. If it was a trap, she was screwed anyway. And it probably wasn't, as she'd woken up at all. "Good, morning . . ." She had to pause, look at the sky.
"Yeah, morning," Asuma said, smiling around an unlit cigarette. "You're Amiri-san?"
She nodded. "Are you still Asuma here?" she asked, curiously. The places had changed, but the names remained.
He smiled slightly. "Only when I feel like it." He winked, a slow deliberate gesture that was obviously not meant to be seductive. Then he grinned. "Raidou said you needed an escort back to Kakashi's mirror, and also asked me to apologize for him." He chuckled and bowed. "He is very sorry. He was . . . detained last night." Asuma smirked and stepped aside so Amiri could come out.
She smiled back, and really wished she'd thought to bring a comb with her. "Detained? Did it go that well?" It had better be a damn good reason, she thought, sullenly.
"Ah . . ." Asuma scratched at his beard, thinking. "I got to the Toad and Shuriken about the same time that Raidou did. I didn't hear the whole conversation, but . . . um . . . " he smikred. "I shouldn't be laughing. I really shouldn't. But they started a bar fight and are both in jail. I suppose I *could* have gotten them out, since I have the rank, but I figured . . . if being locked up together for twenty-four hours didn't either solve things or kill them both, nothing would solve their problem." He smiled. "Did you convince Raidou he's gay?"
"I convinced him he was wrong about being straight. I think." Her lips twitched. "And you're probably right. Hopefully Raidou didn't get hit on the head or chicken out." She exhaled. "Tell him I'm vaguely annoyed about being forgotten, will you please?"
"I will. Although, in his defense, he did spend the next several hours being stitched and treated for mild insecticide poisoning. So he couldn't have told me, regardless." Asuma smirked again. Then he glanced at Amiri. "Is he this dense in your world? Mirror world, right? Is everything opposite?"
"I don't think it's . . . opposite. More like, distorted." She waved a hand. "No, no he's not that dense . . . I've *met* people that dense . . . But . . . Usually not shinobi."
Asuma smiled indulgently at his own thoughts. "Hmm. Yeah, Raidou is . . . special." He stopped in front of Kakashi's apartment, knocking twice and then just opening the door. He turned and winked at Amiri again, as if sharing some private joke. "Kakashi! We're coming in!"
Kakashi yanked the door the rest of the way open and stood there, shirt half undone, hitai-ate gone, and mask slightly crooked. "Ahh . . . hello, Asuma."
Asuma gave Amiri another little smirk. "Kashi-kun."
Kakashi twitched.
"I've brought Amiri back. And I'm telling Kurenai about the mirror."
"No one's supposed to know," Kakashi muttered.
"I know. I'm telling Kurenai." Asuma grinned. "Amiri-san, nice to meet you." He inclined his head slightly. "Hope you . . . ah . . . have a good trip."
"Nice to meet you, too." She opted for keeping her eyes down, this time. Kakashi had a clean floor. She leaned on the frame and pulled off her shoes, before putting on socks. She hadn't really wanted to be carried again.
"Thank you," Kakashi said, sounding vaguely disgruntled still. 'Kashi-kun' indeed. "Ibiki's in there, by the way."
Amiri froze slightly, eye flicking up to look at him, "Which one?"
"Oh, ah, sorry. Yours. He hasn't tried to threaten me once, which is nice. I think he'd like to, though," Kakashi said thoughtfully.
Amiri shut her eyes and exhaled. "How long?" She really, really, really hoped he hadn't been there _all_ night.
"Oh, not too long," Kakashi said thoughtfully. "Maybe . . . since nine? Not even twelve hours."
She winced. "All night?" Poor Ibiki. Poor *her* when she got over there and got to deal with the aftermath of what could easily have been half-panicked concern . . .
"Hm. I suppose. I was busy for most of it." He shrugged and opened the bathroom door. Then he paused. "I would offer to chase him off if you're worried, but I'm afraid I don't think he'd take me seriously." Kakashi smiled wryly. "But if you want to wait until he leaves . . . he has to leave sometime . . ."
"No, he doesn't," she said, dourly staring at the hyper-clean floor. "He's already *in* a bathroom. He's probably got, ration bars in his pockets . . ."
"Hm." Kakashi frowned down at the floor, hands in his pockets. "I could . . . talk to Genma. I'm sure we could make an identity for you if you needed to stay here . . ."
She looked up to see if he was kidding. "Huh? Oh, oh no, it's okay. I'd rather deal with my annoyed Ibiki than yours. But thank you. It's very sweet." She shifted her weight, left to right. Eyes back on her feet.
"Oh, all right," he said, and sounded more than a little relieved. "Well, then . . . ah . . . you're going to be coming back at some point, aren't you? Did you fix Raidou?"
"I don't know. I haven't talked to him again yet. He's apparently in jail right now. For a bar fight." It wasn't anything he wouldn't find out later anyway, she reasoned. "So. Maybe yes, maybe no? I'm a little curious but right now I'd rather just go home."
Kakashi nodded. "That's good. I'm rather tired of him being on the other side of the mirror, I must say." He smiled brightly. "I'll see you again, then!"
She walked to the bathroom without looking up, carefully, and stepped inside and waited. Still staring at the ground.
He was leaning against the wall when she looked up. Arms crossed, and face blank. She sighed. "Is the towel so I can climb out?" she asked, already certain it was. It looked out of place on the counter like that. Though in anyone else's bathroom it'd just mean that someone'd washed their face recently.
He smiled brightly. "Unless you'd rather be lifted again . . ."
She hopped onto it herself, as an answer. On one knee, she stretched a leg out through the glass. It felt . . . different this time. No resistance at all. Still kinda cold. "I'm good. Thank you, though. Oh, do you have any more letters?"
"Not yet." He smiled and scratched the back of his head. "I'll leave them here when I do." He paused, then, looking uncertain, asked, "Should I?"
She nodded. "That'd be perfectl- ah!" A hand gripped her ankle and *yanked*. Apparently Ibiki'd had enough of that. Half through the mirror now. She turned and attempted a glare.
Kakashi grabbed her upper arm and gave Ibiki a bland, bored look. "You sure you're all right?" he asked quietly, jaw not moving at all, making certain Ibiki couldn't read anything off him.
"It's fine." She patted his hand on her arm. "I'll see you later."
He hesitated, and then let go. "All right. Be careful." He gave Ibiki a lazy wave that somehow conveyed, 'I think you're an ass, just on general principle.'
Whatever Amiri said to Ibiki was lost, mostly because it was said outside of Kakashi's line of sight. Ibiki all but scooped her up and disappeared.
Kakashi's eyes narrowed. That Ibiki had *better* be nice. He knew his Ibiki, and wouldn't trust him with the care of another person. Still, if she'd decided to date him . . . he just really hoped that other Ibiki was a halfway decent human.
**
Ibiki walked her all the way back to her house before he started to speak. Not that his mood hadn't been broadcasted by the tense silence.
He was debating. Deeply, deeply debating. Because if he thought it out carefully enough, he could have what he wanted to say scripted out in his head. And he wouldn't just . . . do what he wanted to do.
What he wanted to do was extract a promise form her she'd stay the hell away from the mirror. And Iruka, in the process. Maybe the Iruka part was petty but he wanted to be petty. He wanted to shake her till _sense_ sunk in.
But he wouldn't.
Not like it'd work anyway.
The shake method of getting what he wanted had long been discarded. In favor of other, more subtle, effective methods.
He wasn't going to use those either. Mostly because he was _deeply_ fond of Amiri and would prefer she _stayed_ deeply fond of him.
Even if she'd apparently lost her mind.
Or at least her common sense.
For fuck's sake she'd almost had her brain frazzled with a unidentified tag because of the damn mirror! *Kakashi* thought everyone on the other side of the looking glass was more or less mentally out to tea. *Iruka'd* been lightly tortured! The Raidou they'd had for two weeks had been three seals short of a jutsu!
Ibiki'd been fucking *afraid*, dammit. He knew exactly how he'd deal with a perceived hostile with unknown abilities, and it involved a *lot* of needles and questions and very small rooms and unpleasant things that he knew *she* knew about. The woman spent at least a quarter of her shifts running T&I suicide watch, after all . . .
She opened the door. "Stop counting to ten in your head," she said, half under her breath.
"It's that or we can have this talk when I'm not cooled down," he nearly snapped.
"How long will it take you to cool down?" She sat down on the couch, starting to lean on her knees, defensive, then thinking better of it and sitting upright.
"Longer than I have," he said, tersely. And he meant it. He had work to do, dammit, and being the head of something like T&I meant that, while you got to make your own hours, there were a whole LOT of hours to be made . . . "Did you take a blow to the head, last time you played pole?"
"Nothing wrong with my head."
"Hrmmph. you sure?"
"Want me to go have a physical?" she offered.
"I want you to--" show some sense. Think, god-dammit. "Stay on this side of the mirror."
"I--"
"But you probably won't," he said, grimly. "I don't particularly want to have to find out how to wage a war through a five by five hole."
"I didn't think I'd be that long."
"We don't know who else can go through that thing. We don't even know if anyone else can, if they have anyone who can. We don't know the rules by which that--tear operates." Quantum physics were damn near a myth. He wondered how annoyed he sounded, how much his voice had risen. He exhaled, pulled back a little, sat down. "Going through it is like jumping off a cliff and hoping the wind'll catch you." Calm, collected tone.
"It's just a door," she said, but if she was going to peruse that argument she thought better of it.
Good. Maybe her head wasn't actually carved of marble tonight. "It's a flaw in the universe."
She didn't respond to that. He took the time to try thinking of a follow up that wasn't an attack.
"I don't think you're safe there," he said, finally. And it was only half a lie. He _knew_ she wasn't safe there. Because he knew what he'd do to someone who fell out of the sky for no reason. It involved hot things, cold things, sharp things and blunt things in combination with various mind-altering chemicals. He schooled his face and voice back to impassive because he knew she disliked it when he did. "You've been getting the mail through it?"
She just nodded.
"How often do you go all the way through?"
"Just twice."
Ibiki's brain growled out a sting of words that, if uttered, would probably have raised one or two old ones and a horde of zombies. He kept them to himself. A flicker of something dark went across his features but that passed quickly.
"The first time I was with either that Raidou, or that Kakashi the whole time."
Dubious bodyguards at best. That Raidou was a chowder-head (name edited to protect our rating) and that Kakashi was about as trustworthy as a paper katana. Had she not heard the torture story? "And the second time?"
She told him.
He wondered if his molars were going to shatter. This much pressure on them couldn't be healthy. Some crack version of Asuma'd had to get her back. Oh. Hell. No. He stood up in one motion and walked to the door.
"Wait--" She started to get up, go after him. Stop him.
"Don't," he said, slowly. "Don't. Block. My. Way."
She stepped back.
"Stay away from the mirror until we've talked about this." *After we've talk about this. In general. Forever.*
"Alright. When?"
In a month when I'm not pissed off. "Tomorrow." Maybe.
After he'd vented on six orderlies, two underlings, three walls and one punching bag in the training room that really hadn't deserved it _that_ badly.
**
They sat in silence, staring at cell walls. Raidou prodded at his swollen lip, felt the blaze of pain, and prodded again.
After stitches and whatnot, he'd managed to find Asuma and--when begging the other Jounin to get him out didn't work--convinced him to go help Amiri home. He hoped she wasn't *too* pissed off at him.
Then he'd landed in a cell for the next 24 hours with Genma.
They didn't speak at first, both nursing hurt feelings and hurt flesh. But Raidou wasn't good at either holding a grudge, or silence.
"I'm sorry I threw you into the mirror behind the bar," he mumbled.
Genma glared at the cell door. "Yeah. Well. I'm sorry I threw poisoned senbon at you."
Raidou rubbed where the tip had caught him, resulting in a few hours of horrific vomiting, diarrhea and a rash that was still spreading--despite the fact it had barely scratched the skin. "You got those from the other Raidou?"
Genma nodded without looking at him.
They fell silent.
"Did you really sleep with him?" Raidou asked, looking sidelong at Genma. "I mean, thinking he was me? You thought you were sleeping with me?"
Genma nearly winced. He put his feet on the cot, wrapping his arms around his knees loosely. He glared between his legs at the mattress, index fingers hooked. "Yeah," he muttered darkly. "So?" he growled, glaring up.
Raidou sighed and sprawled back on the other cot, staring at the ceiling. "You don't have to get all defensive, you know. Fucktard."
"Asshole," Genma muttered.
"Cockbite."
"Goldfish," Genma said, smirking.
Raidou looked at him. "Hey!"
"If the fins fit . . ."
"Very funny." Raidou fell silent. It stretched between them, comfortable now. "You do like me like *that*, don't you?" he asked quietly.
Genma was quiet for a long moment, shifting to rub one eyebrow with his thumb. "Yeah," he muttered at last. He shot a look at Raidou; half suspicious, half accusation. "You gonna bugger off again?"
Raidou scratched at the rash.
"Don't do that," Genma hissed, throwing lint at him and weighing it with chakra so it actually hit. "It'll spread."
Raidou rolled his eyes. "You're such a baby. As if the scar would matter."
"Not the scar, dipshit, you'll itch more!"
Raidou dropped his hand away from the rash. "Oh. I hadn't thought of that."
Genma rolled his eyes. "Like I said. Goldfish."
Raidou shot him a dirty look, but he wasn't looking.
Genma felt it anyway. He rubbed at the back of his neck, glaring between his knees again. "Why do you care if I like you, anyway? You suddenly realize you're madly in love with me?" he asked snidely.
Raidou snorted. "Don't be dumb."
Genma winced internally, but didn't let it show.
"It's just . . . Amiri and I were talking."
Genma mentally rolled his eyes. Amiri again.
"And she said I should think about the things we do, and the things other couples do, and the fact that . . . that I can't seem to find a girl I like but you're always there, and you don't have to be straight to have kids, and I get that twist-in-your-stomach-at-a-glance only not at girls, at guys and you and--" his face was slowly turning red. It went even darker when he realized Genma was staring at him. "Okay, so maybe this only makes sense to *me*--"
"Well, you're *babbling*," Genma said dryly, "but I think I'm getting the gist of it." He really hoped he was getting the gist of it. "You . . . might be interested back?"
Raidou rubbed at his scar, started to scratch the rash, and dropped his hand when Genma threw more lint at him. "I dunno. Maybe. I mean--wait, there was something Amiri told me to say . . ." He screwed his face up, trying to remember.
Genma snorted a laugh and shook his head. "Paraphrase?"
"Oh, but she said it *perfectly* so no one would get hurt . . ."
Genma didn't think that was possible, in his admittedly limited experience of crushes and breakups.
"Damn. Well, it was like, you're my best friend and I'd like to try dating, but it might not work out and I still want you to be my best friend. 'Cause I might not be gay." Raidou looked up hopefully.
Genma smiled. He laughed quietly, scratching the back of his head and rolling another lint ball. "Dating?"
Raidou nodded.
Dating. Now that was a novel concept. "I could try dating," Genma said slowly. Dating *Raidou*.
"I might not be gay," Raidou said again, a warning in his tone. "We're just *trying.*"
Genma nodded quickly. "Yeah. Okay. That's cool." Raidou was gay. He already knew that, and he just really hoped they worked as well as he'd been imagining all this time.
Or half that well.
Even an eighth that well would be phenomenal.
"Okay." Raidou smiled slowly and relaxed back against his cot. "Okay," he said again.
Genma laughed softly and threw a lint ball. It bounced off Raidou's chest, rolled, and settled on his stomach.
Dating. *Damn.*
"But Amiri said we should take it slow," Raidou said quickly, lifting head and shoulders off the cot and doing amazing things to his abdomen in the process, things Genma could see even through the thin cloth of his shirt. "Like . . . slow. Not jumping into bed. 'Cause we've neither of us had real relationships."
Slow. Damn. Genma sighed and nodded, though. "Sure. We can go as slow as you want." He'd waited this long, he could wait a little longer for the physical side of things. At least now he had a shot.
Dating. He snorted a laugh. What a week.
**
It took Ibiki five days to calm down. An extra two just to be certain.
Another three when he found out that she'd agreed to water the other Kakashi's plant if he went out on missions.
At day ten he gave up. He was never going to be cool enough for this. No matter how much he trained or sparred or how many hours he spent listening to overly loud opera in forgotten dialects of the north while tying the rigging of a 1/18th scale merchant ship.
Maybe he was just, thinking about all this wrong. There had to be _some_ sort of benefit to a dimensional hole to Konoha2. And if he distanced himself a little . . . and he was good at that . . . what he had was a hole to a potentially hostile shinobi village, and at least three sympathetic inhabitants that'd harbor an operative.
Normally that'd make him happy.
And then, when he was finally ready to again attempt a talk . . .
She wasn't there. At least, not at her house. Or at the hospital. Fuck fuck. *Try not to get mad again.*
She was home the second time he tried. Still in scrubs. She let him in without a word.
"Heard about your plant sitting," he said simply. Big boots by the door. He walked towards the kitchen without a sound.
"You can take your jacket off to yell, you know," she offered.
"I'm not yelling." But he took his jacket off. Backtracked to hang it on the hook. She'd installed a heavy-duty hook after the heavy leather of his coat yanked the first three out. He stared at the wall a second before going to the kitchen.
"You're a very quiet yeller, is what you mean," she said, following.
"No, I meant that I'm not yelling," he said, calmly. Putting a pot on to boil. "Coffee or tea?"
"Coffee."
He got the things out then turned, leaned back on the counter. There was uncomfortable silence for a moment. He let it sit, feeling relaxed. He was good with silence. Uncomfortable silence was really one of his favorites. Easy to create, people behaved fairly predictably in it and-- He sighed and shut off that part of his brain, breaking the silence himself. "I still think it's idiotic."
"It probably is," she agreed.
"Then why?" He wanted to know. It was what he got stuck on.
"It seems like, there aren't many people to talk to over there," she said, finally. "If that makes sense."
It was like she'd found a stray puppy. He almost wished she had. A puppy would be easier to deal with. Even if he preferred cats. Cats were nice. Cats minded their own fucking business. "It doesn't."
"No, it doesn't. Logically." She shrugged a little. "I think I've been helpful there."
"You're much more useful here." More needed, most definitely. And safer. Was it just to much to want her to be safe?
"That Raidou needed someone to talk to. It's my fault he was so, well, extra confused," she said, after a moment. "He's a friend that needed help."
"That doesn't make it safe. Can't Raidou . . . sit on the counter or something?" Ibiki said, sensing defeat. Oh gods why had he gone and let her meet the noodle brained Raidou? Should have just kept her out of it entirely. "Write letters."
"I wasn't planning on going over there again. At least not out of that Kakashi's place."
"Whose plants you water."
"Haven't yet, but I've been asked," she confirmed. The teapot started to shriek from the stovetop and she watched him turn off the flame.
"In spite of the fact he tortured Iruka," he said, pouring scalding water into the coffee press. Lid went on, plunger went down, pinning the grounds.
"He tortured an intruder," she said, in reply, getting cream out of the fridge. "Because he thought his Iruka had been stolen."
He poured her cup first, watched her add cream. "And that's a good enough reason?"
She looked at him, eyebrow starting to arch and remaining level only through what must have been a Herculean feat of self-control. It still ended up a *look*.
Ibiki was well, *well* aware of the hypocrisy in his statement. But he didn't care. "Just because a thing is necessary doesn't make it less unpleasant."
"I don't think they're bad people. Not the ones I talked too." There was an 'except' in there, he could *smell* it. "They told me they'd get me home in alive and in one piece, I believed them."
"Uh-huh," he said, letting obvious doubt fill his voice. He reached over, gave her braid a flick. The tight, glossy black hair was at mid-shoulder blade when it was woven that tight. "One piece, huh?" He filled his cup, took a sip straight before adding some cream as well. "I don't like it."
"It'll grow back," she said, shrugging.
"Not the hair. You hopping through," he clarified automatically before realizing she probably understood the question just fine.
"I'm not planning on renting a house over there, or anything," Amiri said. "But Raidou and Genma, they, at least, are good people. And that Kakashi's not evil. Just disturbed."
In theory he could just . . . order her not to. He thought about that, followed that train of thought to its likely crash site, and decided to avoid it. For now. The idea went on a back burner anyway.
"I'm not going to stop you. We don't know the rules to controlling it," he said, eyes shutting. "How safe do you feel over there?" Operative in potentially hostile camp. Just keep thinking that.
"About as safe as doing suicide watch?" she said, sipping her coffee. "Safe in theory but not entirely certain that the person I'm looking at hasn't discovered a way to resist sedation?"
He nodded and wondered if she'd been working on that analogy. It didn't matter. "I want to know when you go through. I'm not going to make you write out mission reports about it . . ." Yet . . . "But as long as it's operating we might as well gather some intel about that world."
"Want newspapers?"
"Newspapers. Anything you hear about politics, economy. Anything can be useful," he said, pouring more coffee. There wasn't enough left for a cup. He set about boiling more water. "It'll be an unofficial mission."
"All right." She caught his arm, leaned against him. "Took you ten days to think this up?"
"No. It took me one day to think it up, and nine to cool down," he said, looking at her. "We're not at war with them, they aren't allies, and I doubt they have any idea how to fight through a mirror either. So it's more important you keep coming back than you retrieve any sort of important information."
"All right."
"So don't *piss* anyone off stealing newspapers."
"Give me some credit."
"Give me some slack. I'm allowed to worry."
Amiri's lips twitched, and she leaned up and in to kiss his cheek. "Deal."
He set down his cup, slid an arm around her waist. "Deal."
*************************
Next: Epilogue!
