This idea sat around for my head for a long while, but I never really got around to writing it. This is in the same tense and POV as my other oneshot, First Impressions - mainly because I feel it's easier to connect thoughts and actions through present-tense third person. Anyway, please leave constructive criticism, your reaction, suggestions, etc down in the reviews - I'm always looking to improve as a writer. Thank you!
"Dammit."
His voice is weak, but full to the brim with the intended venom of the word. His limbs are numb, tucked away and secured somewhere behind him. He thinks he's in a chair, but he can't feel much past his chest. The room is inexplicably dark, but the boy realizes the metallic tang to the cool air is from prisoners long buried. An empty cavity in his stomach aches in time with the beating of his heart, incessantly reminding him that he is hollow - just a shell of a human being. He has to bite his tongue to keep from crying when it hits him that his opportunities have dissipated into nothing. He only tries to break free of his bindings once, when he fully realizes his chances of a normal life are gone.
A voice interrupts his squirming, loud but full of some warmth he can't quite recognize. It might be his imagination, but a small, almost imperceptible chuckle echoes from the corner of the room.
"Going somewhere?"
The boy knows exactly who it is - Ibiki Morino. Not that he would've expected anybody less, of course. He doesn't trust his voice to speak, especially when so many emotions are rocketing through his skull at once.
The voice is still nonchalant, but the boy detects a slight falsity - Morino is more on edge than he'll let on.
"You came dangerously close to killing the Hokage. Tell me, where are you from? Your headband is blank."
The voice gradually gets closer, and by the last sentence the interrogator is practically breathing down his neck. Goosebumps rise on his shoulders and could he move any part of his body, he'd curl up into a ball and wish it all away.
The boy's voice is still thick with emotion, but he manages to speak without breaking down.
"I'm not sure you want to know."
He can practically hear the smile on Morino's face.
"Humor me."
The boy lets out a long, quiet sigh, closing his eyes, useless in the dark.
"On one condition."
There's a tiny note of curiosity in the interrogator's voice, almost like the children in his village when they saw their first murder.
"What do you want, kid?"
He grinds his teeth together, hard, and then the words tumble out faster than he can control them.
"Kill me when you're done questioning me."
"Oh? Why do you want to die?"
Morino sounds genuinely curious, but for sure this isn't the first time he's dealt with a suicidal prisoner. He was just always looking for more information.
The boy is just a touch angrier now. "Do you accept it or not?"
The man's voice drops all pretenses of empathy.
"Yes. However, we will confirm the facts before we kill you - and if you so much as utter one false word, we will put you on full-time suicide watch for the rest of your miserable life. Is that clear?"
The boy lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and the corners of his mouth curve into a grotesque attempt at a smile. There's nothing left for him in this world; even the people he worked for are out to kill him, since he failed so terribly.
Even from his oldest memory, all the boy wanted was a family - and they dangled the notion in front of his nose, laughing when they yanked it away. There were dozens others his employers did this to, and still more - trained as assassins from birth, they'd never be real kids. All of them deserve a better life.
A single tear leaks out of the prisoner's eye.
"I understand."