Slowly, Tayuya came to realize that she was, in fact, alive.
"Fuck," she croaked, the metallic, faintly repugnant taste of blood in her mouth.
She must have blacked out for a moment - maybe a little more than a moment, she added in a rare bit of honesty - because neither of her enemies were anywhere nearby. Probably assumed I was dead, she thought to herself. It wasn't a bad assumption to make. She certainly felt like … well, she certainly wasn't going to be going after those two to try and finish the job. Sasuke could get himself to Orochimaru. Or not. Who cared?
She pulled herself into a sitting position and very nearly blacked out again from the sudden fierce pain in her stomach - and the smaller pains everywhere else.
"Damn it," she growled, louder. She might be alive, but she was still bleeding like a stuck pig from that wind… thing the Sand bitch had summoned. Wind rodents? With swords? Sand ninja were fucking weird. Her entire body was a mass of a thousand bleeding cuts. And she hadn't brought any medical supplies, didn't bring them on missions ever since that bastard Kidoumaru had made that crack about her being a cute little nurse. Her pained grimace transformed into a grin for a moment remembering how she'd almost succeeded in feeding him his own kunai for that comment.
Her hand pressed against the biggest slash, a horizontal cut right across her gut, trying vainly to keep from bleeding out, but blood continued to ooze out between her fingers. And that was discounting the uncountable number of smaller gashes, some no larger than a paper cut. She would need to get back to base, or she would die. She wasn't really looking forward to it, though: Kabuto would be quietly smug forever. He spent way too long honing his I-know-things-you-don't grin as it was.
With a determined grimace, she jerked herself to her feet, and began to walk. Each step was agony, but Tayuya was used to pain. These wounds were nothing compared to those torturous days after she had received the cursed seal, when her body was wracked by psychosomatic pain that left no mark but had driven her almost to the brink of madness, torn between two wildly different types of chakra. Those days were forever after her standard by which all other pain was judged.
She picked up the pace to a fast sort of hobble.
She would not allow herself to arrive last. She had her pride. A little weathered after that beating, but hell, she was alive, wasn't she? You know the saying, any ninja battle you walk away from...
- - -
"One foot in front of the other," she coached herself. She'd been walking for at least an hour, and she had no idea how she was still alive, considering how much blood she'd lost. She grinned suddenly, a bloody smile. That proved what she'd always suspected: she was just too mean to die.
She'd remained in her cursed form since waking, longer than she ever had in one stretch before, on the grounds that if she was still alive with a gut wound like she had, it had to be due to the cursed seal. Normal people, even ninja, died when their innards got punctured.
Suddenly, for no reason she cared to think of, she wanted to see her comrades with a sharpness that was like a kunai in her chest. Kidoumaru with his pet spiders and his stupid games. Jiroubou with his dumbass good nature that was so, so out of place in a group of murderous psychopaths like theirs and the misogyny that always drove her nuts. Even Kimimaro and the twins, and she knew there was something wrong with her if she was missing those psychotics.
She throttled the desire. If they ever learned that she had, for a single moment, cared about them, they'd never let her live it down. She'd rather die. No, she'd rather kill them.
She tried to calculate how far she still had to go to the Sound, but she wasn't sure anymore. For all she knew, she might have gotten turned around and was making her slow, stumbling way back to Konoha. She wasn't really the brains of the group. Battle tactics she could do, and do well. Planning ahead? Not so much.
She killed people. She was good at it. That was all you could ask of a Sound ninja, really: they were weapons, each and every one of them, pointed at Orochimaru's enemies.
She cleared a small copse of trees – Birch? Fir? She wasn't sure, at least they weren't those monster trees you found the closer you got to Konoha – and stared, blinking, at the patrol of ninja who were doing the same back at her. There were four of them, all in gray or tan or dark brown, and with forehead protectors engraved with a little rock. It took her an embarrassingly long time to identify their hitae-ite, but she did have the excuse of being a little off her game at the moment. Iwa, the Village Hidden in the Earth. The only thing that came out of her mouth was, "What the fuck are Hidden Rock nin doing out here?" That, apparently, got them thinking again.
"What on earth is that? A demon?" one of them asked stupidly. If she'd been in better health, she would have shown him exactly how much of a demon she was, but considering she was half-dead, she'd just have to let him get away with it. Instead, she was just thanking the gods that Orochimaru-sama didn't make the Sound Four wear those stupid Sound forehead protectors. "It could be a danger," another muttered xenophobically. He was tall, probably over 6 feet, with sharp features and wearing a weird little green hat with nodding peacock plumes trailing down his back. Something about him made Tayuya peg him as the leader of the little band. Aura of command, or maybe he was just that pompous.
She cleared her throat, reminding them she was there. She couldn't believe she'd got turned around bad enough to end up in Earth Country, which meant these guys were, what, an advance scout? Were these Hidden Rock fuckers horning in on their turf? "This is Rice Country. You're out of your territory. So beat it." She'd tried to sound officious, but she wasn't very good at that, either. A third ninja, with a craggy face that reminded her of nothing so much as a boulder brought to life and topped by huge mutton-chop sideburns, said, "We have orders to investigate. Rumor has it a group of missing-nin have taken up an abode in Rice Country. That's the sort of rumor Hidden Rock can't ignore. T'wouldn't be neighborly."
She stared at them for a long moment, before turning around and bolting.
She made it a dozen steps before another one - a woman - rose up out of the ground like something out of a zombie flick, the new arrival's short, straight-bladed ninja'to already in motion. She had enough presence of mind to tuck her legs and leap over the swing, her open-toed sandals just barely clearing razor-sharp steel.
She got a bare second to savor the expression on her attacker's face when she failed to be bisected before she reached out, grabbed the woman's face, and slammed her head into the ground, cracking her skull nicely.
The pain of jarring injuries made her stumble a bit before she got her legs back under her, which was apparently enough for mutton-chop man to grab her shoulder and spin her around with pure arm strength, of which he apparently had in ample supply.
No way he could have known that a Level 2 Curse Seal Tayuya's strength was probably mid-to-high jounin level, so he was surprised as all hell when the girl who barely came up to his shoulders - counting the horns - broke his grip like it was nothing more restraining than paper, and lashed out with a wild punch that - more by chance than design - hit at the right angle to shove the bridge of his nose into his brain, killing him almost instantly.
Wow, lucky, she congratulated herself.
Not so lucky was that peacock-man had figured out it was a bad idea to get into melee range of someone as ridiculously strong as herself and pegged her in the back of the head with a rock from 20 yards away with enough strength to dent even her curse form's hard skull, only her seal-granted toughness preventing it from being a killing blow.
She fell over like an axed tree, and knew only darkness.
- - -
Tayuya's eyes opened with a snap, ruthlessly suppressing a whimper of pain as her instinctive movement jarred half-healed wounds. She wasn't anywhere near 100 percent, but better than she'd been. They must have had a medic-nin drop a half-assed healing jutsu on her, probably so they'd have the option of torturing her themselves without fear of her dying on them unexpectedly, she surmised.
She was in a cell, maybe nine square feet. It was just a square box of metal with sigils carved directly into the smooth, uniform metal of the walls, floor, and ceiling. Some sort of sealing jutsu, she knew. She was no master of the art, but she knew enough to recognize some of the forms. She tried to manifest her chakra, and where there was normally a comfortable flood of power coming from her inner coils, now only the tiniest, barest trickle of chakra came at her call; enough to enhance her senses and maybe manage a little wall-walking, but not enough for any decent jutsu.
So that was what the seals were for, then.
With gritted teeth, she managed to pull herself upright. Sometime between when she had been knocked unconscious and when she'd regained consciousness, she'd been stripped of her weapons and clothing, naked except for a complex series of leather cords binding her fingers and wrists, to keep her from performing hand seals.
It was a standard interrogation technique, she knew, serving the dual purpose of making it harder to commit suicide or escape, and to embarrass and frighten her. Rape was just another way to break a female prisoner. Not that you couldn't rape a guy, too, but it was way more common with kunoichi. She snorted derisively. Orochimaru-sama had overseen that part of her training personally when she'd proven she had the talent needed to rise in his organization, and she very much doubted any interrogation specialist in all of Hidden Rock could hold a candle to his cruelty.
The door swung inward silently on oiled hinges. They must have been waiting for her to regain consciousness before making their grand entrance. "Drama queens," she mumbled. There was no breeze when they entered, so she surmised that they were likely deep underground. This was Iwa, after all. They practically lived underground, like moles. Heh. Mole ninja.
The two Rock nin were as different as night and day. The one on the right was a tall, stringy sort, and between his masked face, long sleeves, and gloves, only his blue eyes were visible. The other was a squatter, burlier man, unmasked to better show off a long, deep scar that turned his lips into a frightening rictus of a grin. Both wore clothing in dark shades from head to foot, probably so that any blood would be less obvious. Or maybe they were just fashion-challenged. Not that Tayuya knew shit about fashion, tending as she did to dress like she'd stolen all her clothes from some poor orphan - a male orphan - but still.
The scarred one looked her over appreciatively. "Nice," was all he said, reaching out a hairy hand towards her. The masked one suddenly barked, "Keep it in your pants, Jiro. We have work to do."
The squat man just leered and told her, "Maybe later, sweet thing." She wondered idly how long they'd practiced that exchange. It was kind of nice that they were trying for psychological torture first, instead of just kicking the shit out of her right from the start. Pussies, she thought to herself, dredging up a superior smirk. As if she'd fold under just that.
Mask's voice was utterly impersonal: a professional. At least they were taking her seriously, she thought with some small amusement. "We're looking for any information you have on the Rice Country ninja, as well as the whys and hows of your demonic appearance when our scouts first found you. Comply, and we may release you. Withhold this information, and we will torture your body and break your mind, so that you will eventually tell us all that we desire anyway."
Tayuya responded with a stream of invective. She didn't merely swear at them: Tayuya elevated cursing into an artform of vitriol. She cursed his ancestors, derided his personal hygiene and affectations, cast aspersions on the sexual preferences of him and his extended family down to their distant cousins, and generally did her best to tear his ego to pieces. The masked man listened politely as she insulted his family line back to its founding members, which she hypothesized involved nin-goats at some point in the not-so-distant past.
"Impressive vocabulary," was all he said. He knew who was in charge, here. "I will begin now."
His hand was suddenly holding a pointy implement that looked a bit like a crescent moon on a stick. She remembered seeing firsthand what one of those could do, even if she had no idea what it was called. Shit, this is going to hurt, she thought, resigned.
- - -
"We'll be back in a little while, sweet thing," the disgusting man blew her a kiss as they left. His rather apparent hard-on told her that he enjoyed his job a little too much. Probably why he'd been chosen for the job in the first place; ninja villages believed in finding the right psycho for the job. The other man had already left through the door as soon as he was done. Apparently, he was bored. Maybe she should feel insulted. Moslty, though, she was pretty happy that was over with for now.
The door clanged shut, metal on metal. There was only the thinnest line at the bottom to show that there had been a door at all.
"Fuck, ow." She whispered, her throat raw and painful. His torture technique had been workman-like, not particularly inspired - she could name five Sound nin off the top of her head who were more creative and excessive in the art - but they'd gotten her to scream more than once. It was pretty much unavoidable. Kimimaro might have been able to partition his mind and retreat back into himself if he were in her boots, but she'd honestly never figured out the trick to it, and he'd never offered to teach her. And he was enough of a creepy, psychotic bastard - and coming from her, that was saying something - that she'd never felt like asking him.
She needed to escape, and soon. The longer they managed to keep her, the more likely it was that they would wear her down into betraying Orochimaru. One session was not debilitating. Nothing she hadn't felt before - training to resist torture inevitably involved being tortured, after all. But weeks, or months? She'd crack eventually, just so they wouldn't hurt her anymore.
It was good that Tayuya's store of unusual ninja techniques included a provision in case of just such a situation.
She wet her lips, and placed her fingertips on the cold metal floor. She fed the tiny amount of chakra she could still call to bear, and runes spider-webbed out from her fingers, forming a portal through which her adaptation of the Kuchiyose no Jutsu technique could function. With a barely audible 'pop' and a tiny puff of smoke, a demon appeared.
It was no more than 6 inches tall, similar in shape to the Doki she summoned in battle. It seemed to be made almost entirely of bandages and lank black hair, with only a single, glaring eye visible. Without her flute, and with the chakra inhibitor in place, this pitiful thing was all she could manage. But it would do.
She pursed her lips and began to whistle, and her little demon puppet began moving jerkily in time to her tune. She felt a thrill of joy run through her. Then she settled down to wait.
She couldn't wait to see the look on the face of the next person to come through that door.
- - -
"Hello again," the scarred man had come back, and alone this time. How very... considerate of him. He grinned lecherously, not realizing the situation he was in. She was huddled towards the back of the cell, doing her best to appear meek and frightened. Tayuya didn't pull off meek and frightened very well, but it was the thought that counted. The man kept talking. "It's my turn. Kubo has no stomach for this, so we're going to have some fun, just the two of us."
She began to whistle the notes to the Makyo no Ran, the March of Evil Men, as the man stepped closer. He reached down and grabbed her hair. "What're you -" Before he could get any farther, she could see the little demon open its mouth, and the usual white, ethereal cloud emerge, rimmed with hungry mouths. It wasted no time in burrowing into the shinobi's back and devouring his chakra, not to mention slicing up his back rather nicely.
The man roared with pain as he felt it tear into his spirit. She'd never felt it herself, but she'd been told that the feeling was extremely painful, like being eaten from the inside. His hand went for his weapons pouch, but Tayuya kicked it away as the thing she had summoned burrowed deeper. The man gave one wild look around, searching for the source of his hurt, before wheeling around and sprinting for the door. He was either going for reinforcements or merely trying to escape, but she couldn't allow either to happen if she was to stand a chance of getting out of here, and threw herself at him.
She caught him in the back with a shoulder tackle - a move she'd picked up from Jiroubou, though her slight weight didn't pull off the move nearly as well as the fatass did. She didn't weigh very much compared to a grown man, but with her one-hundred-twenty-odd pounds on his back, the scarred torturer couldn't quite manage to escape, struggle though he did, thrashing and flailing wildly. It was clear to her that he wasn't a combat-oriented ninja, despite his muscled physique. And still her conjured monster fed its insatiable appetite.
She could feel him groping at his chakra, trying to gather enough for a shunshin or kawarimi to escape her grasp, but the cell drained chakra even too low for those simple techniques. Apparently, he'd never realized that voluntarily walking into a chakra-sealed room wasn't always the smartest thing for a ninja to do.
It took several agonizing minutes for the man to die and she watched the entire thing with a vengeful smile on her lips. When he finally stopped moving, she used the knife that had been in his boot to cut through her bonds - only nicking herself once - and then efficiently stripped him of his clothes and weapons. The head-to-toe black outfit was loose and baggy, but better than trying to escape what was probably the headquarters of the Iwa torture and interrogation squad in the nude.
She dismissed her demon and left her prison cell at something just short of a run, eager to be gone. It was past time to leave.
In the hallway, she looked around. The passageway seemed oddly organic, as if the Rock shinobi had simply tunnelled into the earth and hewed their headquarters out of the stone. Weirdoes. She forced herself to slow to a purposeful walk when she really wanted to run, and tried to bring the cursed seal under control. She honestly didn't know much about it - it worked as advertised, it made her strong, that was enough - but sometimes it seemed more like a barely-sentient thing, an animalistic beast that delighted in pain, than a mere tattoo. Whenever she was in a fight, sometimes even if she merely saw blood being shed, the cursed thing would want to come out and play.
Unfortunately, she was supposed to be incognito, when something as noticeable as a black tattoo all over her body would draw attention. But the nervous energy and adrenalin rushing through her system was telling the cursed seal that there was killing to be done, and it would not be denied, skin stained in black blobs of concentrated evil. Fuck it, then. Maybe they'll think it's a fashion statement. She picked a direction adopted the walk of someone who had something very important to do and shouldn't be bothered. It was one of Kabuto's suggestions: pretend you have somewhere to be, and people will assume you do. The guy was odd and an annoying know-it-all, but he knew his stuff. He wasn't Orochimaru's spymaster and second-in-command for nothing.
I'm going to be so pissed if this is the wrong way, she thought to herself. The air was utterly still, no way to tell which way outside lay, and the Iwa weren't courteous enough to leave a map of the layout of their headquarters lying around. She spotted a similarly-garbed ninja approach, and just brazened her way past. He didn't even glance at her. I still can't believe this is fucking working, she all but crowed internally, giddy. Twice more she was passed by Stone nin as the tunnel wound and twisted, and except for one appreciative "Nice tats," from a guy who was literally covered from head to toe in tribal marking tattoos, they ignored her.
So she wandered around the twisting corridors for a while, looking properly officious and pompous, before eventually catching a faint feeling of moving air and following it. A breeze had to be coming from somewhere above-ground, by her thinking.
Eventually, it led her to a surprisingly well-kept reception area. Smooth sandstone floors, wood paneling, well-lit interior. The lovely, long-haired secretary-looking woman behind the handsome oak desk. Obviously, the dark, dank, rough-hewn tunnels below - complete with single, flickering light bulbs - were more of an affectation than anything else, to set the mood.
She moseyed over to the secretary, forcefully, determinedly casual. She spotted an open book, detailing a list of people who entered and left. She smirked as she signed the name under the departing column of 'Jiro' - the torturer who had, in all fairness, already departed.
She gave a backwards wave to the secretary and headed for the door that promised freedom - only for a wave of malleable rock to come slamming down, blocking it off.
She glanced over her shoulder, to see the secretary gracing her with a little smile - her fingertips on an inked seal, channeling chakra into it to perform the feat.
So fucking close, she mourned.
She whipped a stolen kunai at the secretary - obviously a ninja herself, since she was able to move quickly enough that Tayuya's pointy bit of metal only got her arm instead of her heart - and lunged for the rock wall where the door had been.
After all, even if she was one of the weakest of the Sound Four physically, shit like ranking strengths was all relative. Even at Level One, her cursed chakra reinforced her to the point that she was stronger by far than any normal ninja. She hit the rock wall hard enough that she put her foot through it - as well as the door behind it - and cracks spider webbed throughout the wall.
Some instinct warned her to get the fuck out of the way - even Tayuya's instincts were foul-mouthed - and she did so with surprising alacrity, just in time for a rock fist the size of her torso courtesy of the amazing ninja secretary to fly past and strike the weakened wall, neatly destroying it for her. She gave an appreciative, mocking nod to the fuming woman, turned, and ran hell-for-leather out into the open sunlight.