"Are you sure you are up to this task?"
The dim, wavering light of the torches vaguely illuminates the scene. It throws dark, dancing shadows into the crevices of the intricately carved snakes intertwining themselves on the stone walls. In his slender fingers, the goblet of wine gleams an eerie rust red color, the shade of dried blood. His own angular face is hidden in the gloom as he sits perched in his own elegantly shaped seat.
Tell him you refuse to go, the voice inside me booms urgently. Its frantic plea shatters the silence that hangs over the room, and I find it most irritating.
Shut up, you! I mentally snap. He's never before entrusted me with such an important assignment. Why must you insist on interfering now of all times?
Please Aiko. I have a deep foreboding. This mission—it will end badly for the both of us. I'm certain of it.
I hesitate. This mission—this one assignment—can change everything. I might finally move up in the ranks, perhaps earn a bit of respect from the man before me. I've longed for little else for the past seventeen years.
Yet, that voice. Each time, no matter the situation, it has been proven right. On more than one occasion, ignoring it landed me in a pool of my own crimson essence. Obeying had always ensured a lucky escape.
Before I can make up my mind, a hand grasps my tense shoulder. I snap back to reality and am surprised to see he has moved from his stone throne to tower over me.
"I'm sure Sasuke would be more than willing to take your place," Orochimaru says disappointedly.
Sasuke? The moody Uchiha? No, I refuse to be upstaged by the likes of him.
"I am more than capable of completing this mission." My stern voice echoes back at me, laden with determination.
His hand moves from my shoulder to my hair. I know it glistens an inky black as his does.
As he strokes my locks, he purrs, "Very good, my daughter."
Lifting the goblet to his lips, he swallows a mouthful of red wine. A stray drop dribbles down his chin, and his too long tongue laps up the ruby trail.
Deep inside, my secret half cowers at my father, at the new mission, at the gradually brewing storm I begin to feel as well.
As I cinch my belt around my waist, I hear, "Aren't you ready to go yet?"
"My apologies Kabuto-sempai," I grudgingly say. "This specialized armor, however, takes longer to equip than your clothes."
He huffs, leaning against a wall. "If you were better at controlling your chakra, you wouldn't have to bother with such tedious precautions like that silly armor you wear."
Moving towards the mirrored wall beside Kabuto, I stare at my reflection. My armor is not silly. The tough, form-fitting fabric of the tunic—such a dark purple it almost matches my hair—is dotted with secret compartments for various weapons. Even the vibrant silver sash draped over my shoulder and the matching belt hide a few lightly poisoned kunai. My black trousers tuck into black boots made from the hide of a great horned beast from across the sea. My sleeveless arms are adorned with leather bracers, metal spikes rising slightly on my outer forearms. Matching gloves wrap around the warm flesh of my palms, the sturdy, brown material leaving my fingers bare.
"If you're going to waste so much time and effort, you should at least remember the one essential accessory Lord Orochimaru deigned to give you," Kabuto mutters, exasperation in his voice.
Turning, I see he is holding out a slim pair of goggles. I promptly snatch them out of his hand and, pointedly dismissing his infuriated glare, position them over my eyes. Now, there is no one but Father, Kabuto, and the Uchiha brat alive that knows of the eyes—those serpent-like slits, so reminiscent of my father's—that I bear, and that is how it shall remain as long as these goggles remain, cloaking my only identifying feature.
Please, don't do this, Aiko, whispers the voice inside the deepest recesses of my consciousness.
The memory of his previous warning nags at the back of my mind. It bombards my willpower until I'm certain whatever confidence I had is all but gone.
It's too late to back down now, I weakly protest. They'll be suspicious if I refuse at this stage.
You won't have to refuse if I constrict your flow of chakra.
I feel my shoulders stiffen, my muscles tense.
No, Naoto, I answer, desperation in my thoughts. If you do that they'll run more tests, and…I can't…I can't…
"Well?"
Over my shoulder, I see the medical nin studying me, his mouth drawn in a taut line, his arms crossed.
"What's our destination?" I ask him. Don't even think about it, Naoto.
"Konahagakure," Kabuto answers. "The Hidden Leaf Village."
Aiko, no!
Ignoring the plea, I turn back to the mirror and press my palms against its cool surface. From my hands I provide an outpour of chakra, infusing it into the reflective surface. But, after a moment, it becomes apparent that something is wrong. My chakra flow begins to diminish, and I am forced to redouble my efforts merely to keep the jutsu going.
Naoto, stop it! I cry. You know this jutsu requires every bit of chakra I can spare.
Yes, he replies, I do know. Why do you think I'm doing this?
You won't stop me. With a tremendous effort, I work to overcome Naoto's block, infusing the mirror with a steady flow of chakra. An image of the leaf village entrance flits past my mind's eye. Slowly, that same image appears on the mirror, the bright red gate shimmering into existence.
"Let's go," Kabuto says. He grips my shoulders none too gently, pressing his torso against my small back. "Well, what are you waiting for?"
A bright sheen of sweat begins to gleam on my forehead. The strain of overpowering Naoto's technique begins to wear on me.
"Aiko-kohai?" Kabuto says uncertainly.
With gasping breaths, I send even more of my chakra through the mirror. It is sent out through the various planes and dimensions invisible to the naked eye. Like a thin rope, it connects my fingertips with the location I seek: the gate of the Village Hidden in the Leaves.
"Got it!" I pant.
The threads of chakra become taut, pulling on my skin. Glass transforms into clear liquid, allowing my hand to slowly submerge into its depths. Ripples outstretch from the surface as my arms follow suit. As my face nears the shifting surface, I suck in a huge breath.
Finally, my entire body is engulfed by the portal, depositing Kabuto and I in a peculiar looking tunnel stretching twenty feet towards both the ceiling and floor, filled with what seems like water. Only, it is thicker, more firm than any lake or river I'd encountered. Thankfully, the semi-solid liquid is translucent enough for me to clearly define the pulsing line of pale blue chakra that still drags me along by my fingertips, the nin's nails digging into my shoulders as he clings to me.
Aiko, you don't have enough strength, Naoto protests.
You should have thought about that before you intervened, I retort, my tongue sharp and merciless. I couldn't back down, a fact you knew just as well as I. Now shut up and let me concentrate.
The chakra thread continues to pull us at a steady pace, our breath bubbling out before us. In less than a minute, the red gates appear at the end of the tunnel, looking somewhat distant.
Without warning, the tug of the line lessens dramatically. Its color fades into an almost icy blue, thinning out to barely the size of a horse hair. Kabuto's fingers crush the muscles in my shoulders in alarm or in accusation. I cannot tell which.
Naoto, stop this now, I weakly think, my chakra almost entirely spent. If we are to end up at our destination, I must be able to use all of my energy, not waste it fighting with you.
I am unable to lift such a massive block so quickly. You should know this; it's not the first time it's happened.
Now the chakra thread has almost entirely evanesced, and it no longer moves us in any direction. My passenger pounds his fist on my back in a vain attempt to get moving once again, but all he accomplishes is making me lose what little focus I have.
My energy is all but gone. Black encroaches on my vision, outlining it like a vile frame.
Naoto, why? I cling to this thought as I drift into unconsciousness and my body shoots down further into the depths of the tunnel.