Chapter Text
If anyone had told Iruka that he would end up here, he would have laughed in their faces. But here he was, lying on what looked like a stage, facing down a contingent of angry-looking nobility with a wide variety of swords stuck in his face. A woman, presumedly a queen if he’d hazard a guess, looked on from her throne with an expression of anger and just a little bit of curiosity, holding onto the sleeve of the silver-haired man beside her to keep him from rushing forward. Probably not the best time to think about how good-looking that man was, but he was likely going to die any minute, so hey, brain, you do you.
“I surrender?” he said sheepishly, hoping that was the two-word combination that would save him from being skewered.
What a miserable day this was turning out to be.
Iruka would be the first one to tell you that he was really nothing special when it came to skill, but he had a prankster streak a mile wide that had engendered an uncanny ability to get out of tight spots more or less unscathed. His favorite pastime was a practice he lovingly referred to as “keeping Konoha’s finest on their toes,” subjecting law enforcement to a series of carefully orchestrated pranks to test their problem-solving skills. It was a public service he provided from the goodness of his heart. It had absolutely nothing to do with the looks on their faces when they discovered that, yes, once again, they had fallen victim to another one of Iruka’s pranks. No sir.
To pay the bills and fund this important public service, he indulged in a series of petty thefts. Nothing too sinister, just a little purse lightening of those who could more than afford it. A pickpocketing here, a break-in there, you know the type. Nothing heavy.
How he got on the radar of someone like Shimura Danzo, he really couldn’t say.
He was relishing his latest prank victory, a glitter bomb cased in a wrapped birthday present on the police chief’s front doorstep. Hey, far be it for anyone to say he didn’t appropriately celebrate his favorite law enforcer’s special day. That man would be finding glitter in places one wouldn’t be able to think could house glitter for many days to come. As he walked away from the scene, suddenly, a bag was thrust on his head, and he was snatched up from the street and shoved in a van that quickly drove away. Not good.
The van stopped after about twenty minutes, and he was once again pulled forward, unseeing, and deposited rather rudely on what felt like a richly carpeted floor. A disgruntled former victi..er…donor, perhaps? The bag finally came off his head, and he beheld an ugly old man with one eye, clipped black hair, and an interesting, crisscrossed scar on his chin. The man radiated danger. Iruka stared back at the man, seemingly unimpressed.
“What do you want?” Iruka asked, affecting a bored tone to disguise the way his pulse jumped. The man scowled back at him before raising his visible eyebrow at what was presumedly a couple of thugs behind him. One of them came forward and smacked him on the back of the head.
“Ow! The hell was that for?” Really, how rude can you get? He was a guest!
The man was completely unfazed. Some people, right?
“Umino Iruka,” he drawled in a lazy voice that at the same time conveyed just how screwed Iruka was right then. “My name is Shimura Danzo. I have a job for you. Should you succeed, you will be handsomely rewarded.”
Iruka’s eyebrows shot up. Rewarded was good. Despite the fact that this was probably a very bad idea, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he was flat broke. Good pranks so rarely pay like they should, after all.
“What’s the job?” he asked cautiously.
“A former associate of mine has stolen something very important to me and I want it back.” One of the thugs shoved an iPad in Iruka’s face, displaying what looked like a small, orange stone with strange markings on it.
“What’s that supposed to be?” Iruka asked.
Danzo smirked. Well, as much as a man like that could smirk, anyway. “That is none of your concern. The item is being held in the lab of my former associate, a scientist named Orochimaru. We parted under a…difference of opinion and he refused to return the item at the conclusion of our business arrangement. You go in, retrieve it, and make a lot of money. Do we have a deal?”
The gun in Iruka’s face was a very effective motivator to say yes.
Iruka spent the next two weeks casing the nondescript building that housed Orochimaru’s lab, monitoring the staff’s comings and goings and digging up blueprints of the building. The security was a bit advanced, but one phone call to his favorite hacker friend Shikamaru and advanced encryptions became a thing of the past. Pranksters stuck together, after all, and Shikamaru owed him a favor after he’d managed to cover the kid’s retreat the one time the law got a little too close to his hideout. He’d gone through quite a few homemade smoke bombs that day, so it was a pretty big favor. Those things aren’t cheap to make.
Finally, the day of the heist arrived. Iruka dressed in black cargo pants and a long-sleeved black t-shirt, tying his long brown hair up in its habitual ponytail. He looked in the mirror and grinned.
“Let’s do this,” he told himself.
It was well past midnight, and the area was completely deserted. Shikamaru had informed him that the last building occupant had left for home more than an hour ago. The perfect setting for a bit of mischief. Using the garbage chute, which he decidedly did not recommend as a preferred choice of building entrance, he climbed into the basement. He followed the path he’d memorized from the blueprints and Shikamaru’s hacked camera footage to the main lab area using a small flashlight. Without the electronic security system, the door opened with just a few swipes of a lockpick. A quick glance to make sure he was still alone and he was in the lab. Easy peasy.
The orange stone sat under a glass case next to a pile of equipment, including test tubes, stone-working tools, piles of manuscripts, and what looked like a pretty decent, although unfinished, replica of the original artifact. He briefly wondered why the scientist was going through such obvious trouble to replicate this item, then shrugged. Above his pay grade. He was just the snatch-and-grab guy. Speaking of which…
Checking to ensure there were no security traps around the case, he lifted it off the stone and set it aside. Huh. The stone really didn’t look like much. It was incredibly old, but other than that and the curious markings, it wasn’t anything special. Whatever. Without another thought, he plucked the stone from its base and held it in his hand. It felt warm. Curious. Then the stone began to glow. A bit more curious, that. He brought it to his face to look at the markings, now backlit with a strange glow.
“What the..” he managed to say before the world spun and the lab disappeared.
Which is how he now found himself in a very different place from where he was just a moment ago. You remember. Stage, swords, hot silver-haired guy? Yes, that. Quickly, he pocketed the orange stone and rose up, hands above his head.
“I surrender?” he said for the second time.
Everyone turned to look at the woman seated on the throne for direction. The queen opened her mouth to speak…
“Oh, ho ho! You’ve truly outdone yourself this time, Master Shiranui!” came a loud, jovial voice from the queen’s other side. You know, the one that didn’t have a hot guy staring daggers at him. The older, white-haired man strode forward, clapping his large hands together. He walked to the stage and pulled Iruka up by his shirt, leaning forward.
“Just play along, my boy,” the man whispered before returning to address the crowd. “Take a bow, Master Shiranui and also this fine actor here, for a feat of theatrical genius! We will remember this play among some of your greatest accomplishments.”
A sandy-haired man with a bewildered expression walked to the stage and took a slightly awkward bow in the older man’s direction. The older man forced Iruka into a similar bow. Iruka looked up as best he could from the position. The entire room waited for the queen’s reaction.
With a fleeting shrewd look at the white-haired man, her lips curved into a smile as she put her hands together in a clap. Then another. Then another. The room hastened to follow suit and burst into enthusiastic applause. The silver-haired man did not applaud, however. He continued to stare gravely at Iruka, his eyes narrowed. It made Iruka want to shiver, and not in a good way. Okay, mostly not in a good way.
The queen lifted a hand, and the applause died down. “Worthy thespian,” she said in a no-nonsense voice that screamed authority, “I would that you divulge the secrets of your masterful performance. Sir Jiraiya, please bring him to my receiving room. I shall meet you there.”
The man beside Iruka bowed and pulled Iruka upright on his way back up to standing. “Of course, your majesty,” he purred. “It would be my honor to accompany this worthy actor.”
The queen nodded, then swept out of the room. With a last glance, the silver-haired man followed suit, trailing just behind the queen’s voluminous skirts.
Sensing the spectacle was over, the rest of the nobles filtered out of the room, chatting excitedly about what they’d just witnessed.
The man referred to as Master Shiranui came up to Iruka with a wide grin. “Of all the ways to gain the attention of the court, that has to be one of the greatest!” he said excitedly, grabbing Iruka’s hand and shaking it vigorously. “Next time, give me a head’s up before you add your own artistic license to my play, all right? Although I must say your timing is perfect. I couldn’t have written your entrance better if I’d tried. It really did look like Prospero conjured you from the spirit realm! However did you manage it? You must join the Queen’s Men. If you’re currently in a contract with another troupe, I’ll buy you out.”
“Let us leave talk of contracts for another time, Genma,” the white-haired man replied before Iruka could think of a response. “I have an audience with the queen to prepare him for at the moment. If you’ll excuse us.”
Genma gave a small bow. “Of course. I do hope our paths cross again soon, young thespian,” he said before disappearing backstage.
“I..um..” Iruka began before Jiraiya raised a finger to his lips. “Not here. These walls have eyes and ears.” Nodding, Iruka let himself be pulled away and down a succession of long hallways and staircases until they reached a suite of rooms atop a round tower. Without another word, Jiraiya pushed Iruka gently inside before entering himself and bolting the door.
“Claret?” the man asked as Iruka sank into a chair, trying to hide his shaking hands.
“Please say that’s another word for strong drink,” Iruka replied.
Jiraiya gave a short laugh. “A man after my own heart.” Replacing the delicate decanter that he’d initially picked up, he instead chose a small jug and began to fill two glasses with its contents. Iruka accepted the proffered glass and took a large gulp. The whiskey was strong. Thank goodness for small favors.
“What is your name, young man?” Jiraiya asked, sipping his own drink.
“Iruka. Umino Iruka,” came the reply.
“You’re not from here, are you Umino Iruka?”
Iruka shook his head. “I don’t even know where here is,” Iruka tried not to whine. Not very successfully, to his chagrin.
“You are in England, Iruka. The year of our lord fifteen hundred and ninety, in the glorious reign of Queen Tsunade,” Jiraiya explained.
Iruka choked. “You’re kidding,” he replied, the words coming out in a horrified whisper. This had to be the worst bad dream he’d ever had. Right up there with the nightmare where he was cut off from eating ramen for life. Terrifying.
“Why my words resemble the offspring of goats, I am not certain, but they are true. Where are you from, Iruka?”
“I’m from Konoha in the year 2023,” he replied miserably, too miserable even to snort at the misplaced reference to goats. Okay, mostly too miserable. He pinched himself to ensure this wasn’t a dream. The only thing he got for his trouble was a sore arm and a good-natured guffaw from his companion.
“I assure you, Iruka, this is no dream.”
“Worth a shot,” Iruka muttered irritably.
“You have come a long way, noble traveler. Might I inquire how?”
Iruka pulled the stone out from his pocket and held it in the palm of his hand. “I’m not exactly sure. I was holding this stone and it started glowing. The next thing I know I’m here in Tsunadeian England of all places.”
“May I see the stone?” Jiraiya inquired as he reached forward.
“You might not want to touch it. It doesn’t look active, but I don’t know what sets it off.” Instead of handing it to the man, he placed it on a table between them. Jiraiya grabbed an odd-looking magnifying glass from a nearby desk and leaned forward to examine the stone’s markings.
“Most curious,” he muttered.
“I must say, you’re very accepting of all this. I don’t think most people would believe me if I told them this story,” Iruka mused as Jiraiya continued to examine the stone.
“Lucky for you, my boy, I’m not most people. I’m Tsunade’s court astrologer and make it my business to dabble in the far-fetched and unbelievable.”
“Feeling so lucky right now,” Iruka quipped sarcastically.
“I think I’ve seen this before,” Jiraiya continued as if he hadn’t heard. Eventually, he sat back up and looked at Iruka. “For now, keep the stone close to you. Somehow it managed to bring you nearly five hundred years into the past, making it very powerful. Something like this should not fall into the wrong hands. Perhaps, with time and study, I will be able to figure out how to use it to send you back to your proper time.”
“Yes please! If you could do that I would do just about anything. I’d owe you big time.”
“You can repay me by telling me of your time. It will be fascinating to learn how our society progresses.”
“I’m no expert on anything, but I’ll tell you what I can,” Iruka replied with a small shrug.
“We need to keep your identity a secret. Only the queen should know who you really are,” Jiraiya continued, rising to pace the room, deep in thought. “The thespian cover should work well, but we should also give you a minor title to explain your ability to move around freely. You’re a foreign knight and actor drawn to the English court to join Genma’s troupe. Genma is discreet in addition to being a brilliant playwright. You’ll be in good hands there. Keep your head down and don’t arouse suspicion. Now, you’ve been summoned to a public audience, so we need to get you dressed. I’m sure my manservant Kotetsu has a doublet that would fit you nicely.” Jiraiya rose to pull a cord attached to a wall, some sort of call signal, Iruka supposed.
“Erm, Jiraiya?” Iruka asked.
“Yes?” Jiraiya replied.
“The man standing next to the queen earlier. Who was he?” Iruka tried to make his question as innocent-seeming as possible. He was just gathering important information about his surroundings. Absolutely no other motives involved at all.
Jiraiya smirked, completely not fooled. “You mean Lord Kakashi?” he asked. “He’s difficult to miss, isn’t he? Kakashi is Tsunade’s right hand and heir. Probably best if you avoid interacting with him. He’s not exactly known for his warm and friendly nature. He’s often away from court on diplomatic missions, so he shouldn’t be a problem.”
Iruka suppressed the urge to sigh. It figures that hot guy would be completely out of his league. He mentally slapped himself. It’s not like it mattered. He’d be getting the hell out of the freaking Renaissance as soon as humanly possible, after all. He didn’t belong here. He belonged in a world with air conditioning and flushing toilets, for crying out loud. No hot guy could compete with indoor plumbing. Nope.
A knock at the door pulled Iruka out of his reverie. A man with wild black hair entered at Jiraiya’s signal with a small bow.
“How may I serve you, milord?” the man asked.
“Ah Kotetsu,” Jiraiya addressed the man with a smile. “This is ah.. Sir Iruka of Konoha. Would you do us a favor and allow our new guest to borrow a few clothes? He has just arrived from afar and an unfortunate mishap with his ship caused him to lose all of his belongings. Please contact the tailor to have new clothes made for him, but in the meantime, he has an audience with the queen and is woefully underdressed. Also, please set up his accommodations in one of my tower’s guest chambers. We will be working on a project of great importance to the queen.”
Kotetsu bowed. “I will make the necessary arrangements at once, milord,” he replied. In a few minutes, the man returned to shepherd Iruka to a small room near Sir Jiraiya’s chambers. A collection of clothing was laid out carefully on the bed.
“The tailor will arrive on the morrow to take your measurements, but we are of similar build so these items should fit for the time being,” the man said.
“Thank you. I’m Iruka, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”
Kotetsu smiled warmly. “It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Sir Iruka. I hope you will enjoy your stay as Sir Jiraiya’s guest. Please do let me know if there is anything you need.”
Iruka smiled and gave a jerky bow, not quite knowing how to respond. Kotetsu tried to hide a laugh behind his hand. Iruka tried not to be insulted.
“Perhaps a quick lesson in court etiquette is also needed, hmm?” Kotetsu replied.
“I think that would be wise,” Iruka responded glumly. “Things are quite different, where I’m from.” That’s putting it mildly, his brain added.
In the course of twenty minutes, “Sir” Iruka had a passable knowledge of how to bow to a queen, a member of the peerage, and a senior knight like Jiraiya. He also learned that he probably should not bow to servants like Kotetsu, no matter how polite he wanted to appear. Iruka took the information in stride, hoping he wouldn’t screw something up. He could do this. It was just like playing Tybalt in his high school production of Romeo and Juliet. He’d nailed that role, and he could nail this. Probably.
After Kotetsu left, Iruka stared at the pile of clothing on the bed. Cursing the person who thought wearing hose was a sound fashion choice for any gender, he pulled everything on and placed his feet in the buckled, heeled shoes to finish the effect. Here we go, he thought as a knock sounded on the door, and Jiraiya entered.
“Much better,” he said appraisingly. “Got the stone?” Iruka nodded and pulled out a small velvet bag Jiraiya had given him before leaving his study earlier, the perfect size for the small orange stone. He tucked the bag into an interior pocket of his doublet, keeping his ticket home close to his chest.
Jiraiya nodded and clapped his hands once. “Then let’s go meet the queen!”
Iruka gulped. Showtime.