Chapter 10
In the dark of the night, Iruka waited.
He'd swept the room earlier, but there was nothing of interest—nothing hidden, no secrets. Just an ordinary, quite high-end apartment. So, he waited in silence. Blending with the shadows of the room.
It took longer than he expected for the target to arrive.
Still hidden, Iruka watched as the man stumbled through the door, half-drunk. He barely crossed the threshold before reaching for the shelves of liquor. A glass fell and shattered as he fumbled, but he didn't react. He simply grabbed another, poured himself a drink, and collapsed into the sofa with a satisfied grunt.
He no longer looked like a shinobi. Fat, dull-eyed, unaware. He didn't even notice Iruka until the cold edge of a kunai touched the soft fold beneath his chin.
That got his attention.
"Who are you?" the man slurred, surprised but not afraid.
"I'll be the one asking questions," Iruka replied, voice flat. "If you don't mind."
"I've got nothing. No important information."
"Let me be the judge of that."
When the man made no move to resist—likely couldn't even if he tried—Iruka lowered his kunai and circled to sit opposite him. They faced each other in silence for a long beat. Iruka stared at him, trying to read him. The man did the same. But the longer he looked at Iruka, the more he started to sweat.
"Do you know why I'm here?"
"Did the Hokage send you?"
"Why would he?"
"Don't play with me, boy. I knew what I was doing when I made those deals. And if you're here, you know, too. So, make it quick. I've got nothing else to say."
Iruka narrowed his eyes at that. He heard something he didn't expect. No matter how lazy of a teacher he was, that wouldn't be enough of a reason for the Hokage to dispose of him. And the Third Hokage was known for his kindness and forgiveness. So, why would the former teacher say something like that?
"How long has it been?"
Iruka decided to test him. See how long he could keep up the act and how much he could find out without revealing his true intentions. And the man didn't seem to want to hold anything back either.
"Does it matter?" He sneered. "And for the record, it wasn't a hard decision. Why should I care about those ungrateful brats? They can all die for all I care."
"They're the future of the village."
"Pah." He spat at Iruka's feet. "The future of the village has always been the clans. The rest? They're tools—servants. Sure, one or two prodigies pop up now and then, but the rest? Just bodies for the meat grinder."
Iruka narrowed his eyes. He'd come to rattle the man and ask a few questions about the principal—see if they were in it together. But now...
"Were they your only employer?"
"They paid the most. It was already risky, so yeah, I stuck only with them."
"Anyone else involved?"
"Go fuck yourself." Another glob of spit, this time at Iruka's boots. "Tell that to the Hokage. He lets the clans run this place, and now he keeps that monster around like a pet. Even forced me to teach him, like he didn't already kill hundreds of people. He really thought I'd roll over and play nice when he shoved that murderer into my class?"
Iruka blinked. He'd expected laziness, maybe greed. But this... was something else. The hatred in the man's voice wasn't petty—it was personal. And deep. His eyes were way too similar to Iruka's.
"I need names. And details," Iruka said coldly. "You know what happens if you lie."
"It's already too late." The man shrugged and kept drinking. "Always too late with this damn village. What do you want to know? Iwakagure didn't even pay that much. I would've told them everything for less."
"Why?"
"Why not? Easy money." He grinned with yellowed teeth. "What's it matter if they know a few things about the kids? The clans will protect their own. The rest? They'll die, or they'll do the dirty work the clans can't be bothered with. Everybody's happy. The orphans get a 'purpose'. The civilian parents can sleep easy, and I get my drinking money."
"I'll ask again. Why?"
"Because fuck them all!" he exploded. "I cared once. I tried. I did, and that is the truth. I tried my best."
A kunai stuck into the man's thigh, while Iruka's hand covered his mouth to muffle the screams. It would do no good for the neighbors to hear any of his. It has classified information, so the fewer people who knew, the better it was.
"What changed then? And I will be one to decide what is the truth and what isn't."
"The years passed, and I realized none of it mattered," The traitor continued after the pain passed. "Then came Itachi Uchiha. A kid who was barely in the class for a few months, and already better than any of us. What the hell could I teach him? He had everything. Resources. Techniques. A damn clan backing him. And me? Nothing. We're nothing to them."
"So that's it?" Iruka asked. "You were jealous?"
"You're not clan-born, are you? Then you know how little we matter. Look at the power structure. The clans take the top spots. The strongest jutsu? Theirs. They decide who lives and who dies. So, what if I sold some info on their brats? Nothing ever happens to them anyway. If it does, someone saves them. But us? We're left behind. Left to die."
"They're just children," Iruka said sharply, twisting his kunai. "Innocent. And you made them targets—for money?"
The man only chuckled through the pain. His eyes never left Iruka's. And Iruka realized that there was no humanity left in those eyes. Only emptiness and hatred. So damn similar to his.
"Revenge. That's the truth of it. I remember when the demon fox attacked. They saved the clan kids. But my daughter?" He laughed bitterly. "No one came for her. She died, and nobody cared. Just another faceless corpse. So yeah—I sold them out. Let their blood pay for hers."
"You're a coward," Iruka said quietly.
And then he knocked him out with a punch. It was the only way to stop himself from cutting the man into pieces. There was nothing Iruka wanted more than to see blood at that moment, but years of training in control, he knew he couldn't do it. Not right now, at least.
The man was heavier than he looked, but Iruka slung him over his shoulder and walked out the door. He will let the Intelligence Division deal with the rest. It was their job after all, and Iruka had already done more than he came for.
He hadn't expected to find a fucking traitor today. All he could hope now was that this was the only one. Because if it wasn't...
He'd have to go back to being a shinobi. The old him. The one with the mask.
And the mask was always ready.
…
He needed a drink. That was his first thought after he reported to the Hokage. He didn't even remember what he said, as his head was in pain and begging for it to be killed.
After handing the traitor over to the Intelligence Division and telling what he knew, he went straight to his favorite bar. And from then on the drinks kept coming, but they didn't do a damn thing to calm his fury. He fucking hated traitors.
Cowards, he could understand. Being a shinobi took courage that most didn't have. But betrayal? That was the lowest a person could go. He'd trained himself for years to control his emotions, but the rage that betrayal ignited never truly faded. And he knew it never would.
He could've done the interrogation himself. Should have. But he knew better. He couldn't be trusted to keep the man alive. He wasn't looking for answers—he was looking for blood. And he didn't want to return to his old self. That life should be left behind for the stronger ones.
He would only make more mistakes. Once a failure was always a failure. He knew he should let the ones who would come after him take on that role. Because only they could change anything. And he would only be in their way.
"What the hell, Iruka?" Anko found him fast. "I know I said things were too quiet lately, but I didn't need you stirring up a shitstorm. And I was enjoying my sleep, too."
"You should've checked up on the guy."
"He was a retired instructor, nothing more." She grabbed his bottle and emptied it. "Now we've got to launch a full investigation into every fucking official in the village. It's going to take months. Sleepless moths."
"And?"
"It's just fucked up." She dropped her head onto the table. "Sometimes I really hate my job."
"Tell me about it."
"Oh, shut up. You're a goddamn chaos magnet. Trouble either follows you or you find it. Anyway, you gonna ask me or just sulk there?"
Iruka sighed. "What did you find out?"
"He worked alone. Only gave up info on exceptional students. He's been doing it for years. Says it was Iwa, but I'm not so sure."
"Why not?"
"Just a hunch. Iwa wouldn't be that sloppy. Captain thinks so too. Might've been someone pretending to be Iwa. But there's no way to prove it now."
That wouldn't surprise Iruka. He doubted the traitor even cared who he sold his soul to. Anyone would want intel on Konoha's rising stars.
It was a tale as long as the shinobi system itself. Information always came first. People would kill or pay a fortune for it. In the world of shinobi, the truth was rarely on the surface. It was buried under layers of lies, half-truths, and secrets. And sometimes, digging it up wasn't worth what you'd find at the end of it all.
"It's not my problem," Iruka muttered, finishing his drink.
"Are you sure?" Anko asked quietly. The same words that were part of him, buried deep inside, were saying for a while now.
"I will be. Once I'm drunk enough."
But no amount of alcohol would stop him. He knew it. So did Anko.
If it had been any other matter, maybe he could've let it go. Left it to others. But this was the Academy. And soon, his sensei's only son would attend that school. What if someone sold the boy's information to the countless enemies the village had?
If anything happened to him, Iruka wouldn't be able to face his sensei in the afterlife.
The thought made him sick. And it made him reach for his mask.
Though he still hesitated, because he knew once he put it on, there was no turning back. He would not rest until he finished the work, just like he was trained to do. Fast and efficiently. Leaving no loose ends. Leaving no one who is part of it alive. Or die. There was nothing in between.
And it only made it worse that he knew where he should start from. And to tell the truth, the truth he tried to hide so deep inside himself. He wanted to do it. He wanted to put on the mask once again and kill them all. Every single one who would pose a danger to the village. And most importantly, he wanted to kill Danzo.
A.N. Sorry for not posting last week. I just got unlucky, and the consequences of my stupidity caught up to me quickly and in a very painful way. Remember, kids, but put sunscreen on yourself. You probably guessed it now, I got a very bad sunburn. Peeling skin and all. For days, nothing could touch my back, and even now, one and a half weeks later, my back is itchy as hell at all times, making it hard to sleep. Anyway, the moral of the story I hate the summer.
A.N. As always, thanks for reading and supporting me, so I can continue writing without any concerns, and if you want more, up to seven more chapters, you can support me on pa treon. com \ ironwolf852.