Chapter One – The Soldier
Klaxons screeched within the confines of the Torture and Interrogation Headquarters of Konoha. The majority of active and able ninja rushed out into the streets of the village to see where their aid was needed. Those not trained in the ninja arts hurried to gather all important documents and a skeleton force of shinobi escorted detainees to their secure locations. In the distance, sounds of explosions gave people pause. Diligent training paid off as they went about their emergency protocols in a quick and organised fashion.
The door to one of the interrogation rooms opened up as two of the skeleton crew pulled out one detainee. A village traitor by the name of Mizuki, brought out from months of confinement to question about outside contacts. He looked around in panic for some clue of what was going on. The two ninja gripping his cuffed arms began to lead him deeper into the complex. But then another of their associate members appeared before them.
"Nagarai?" frowned one of the ninja. "What is it?"
Nagarai. A reasonably tall man with a shaved head, blue eyes and a somewhat gaunt complexion. He was known among the force as a stoic shinobi of few words. Hard working and without complaint, but an otherwise boring guy. His lack of expression and light step made for a sudden approach that unnerved many of his co-workers. Given now, with the alarms sounding, this was only accentuated further.
"Orders. Morino-san needs you both in the streets. Evacuation routes are being flanked. Immediate support is needed."
The two ninja stiffened. "R-right!" one of them responded. He loosened his grip on Mizuki. At that very moment the detainee attempted to ram the other ninja in order to slip free. However Nagarai's hand darted through the air, grasping the back of his hair in a tight hold. Mizuki grunted and glared. The ninja that loosened his grip flinched guiltily. "Oh. Right. Can you take this one to prisoner evac?"
Nagarai was already moving to take hold of Mizuki's arms. He gave a firm nod. The two ninja thanked him and ran off for the doors, leaving the two semi-alone in the hustle and bustle. Nagarai checked the hallway traffic. Things seemed to be quieting down. He gave Mizuki a shove forward to get him moving.
Members of staff rushed on by, folders clutched to their chests, boxes held tight to their abdomens. They manoeuvred carefully past the two of them, all headed in the same direction. Though the klaxons continued to sound off, all other noise died away as Nagarai pushed Mizuki further towards the back of the building.
"What the hell's going on out there anyway?!" Mizuki growled, glaring over his shoulder. They turned a corner into a quieter still part of the building. Mizuki's ignored question slipped from his mind as he heard the sound of footsteps distancing. He knew he couldn't have been the only one being interrogated at this time. There should be others nearby making their way to the evac point. It lit off a warning signal in his mind.
"I don't know T and I protocol. Maybe this is to keep prisoners apart." it was a possible explanation, but good sense told him not to count on it. He wasn't sure what else there could be, but he didn't want to waste any more time on the thought. Wherever he was headed, he didn't want to get there. This was his first real chance at an escape since he got locked up, and he wasn't going to waste it. His body might have weakened, but he remembered his training.
He let Nagarai lead him on some more, until something presented itself. Something came. A gurney in the hallway, there if the interrogated had a sudden violent mental or physical breakdown. Mizuki focused, listening to Nagarai's movements. He counted the seconds, masked his intention, and when the time came, he sharply stepped back, ramming the back of his head into Nagarai's nose. He felt the connection and swiftly darted forward, jumping to get his feet on the gurney. From there he flipped backwards, and with precision that impressed even him, he slipped his bonds around Nagarai's throat. He bent forward and lifted his warden off the ground, strangling him with the chain of his cuffs.
"Sloppy!" he viciously mocked. "That was your last mista-"
His words cut off short as, shockingly, Nagarai's hands somehow appeared before his face. One arm caught him under the neck while the other tightened the grasp into a sleeper hold. Struggling, Mizuki craned his neck just enough to see out of the corner of his eye what his mistake must have been. What he saw horrified him. Nagarai's neck was turned one hundred and eighty degrees from his torso, his arms bent impossibly to make their hold. His feet, aloft just a second ago, touched the floor.
"What the hell?!" Mizuki cried. Then, just as he thought it was as bad as it was going to get, he caught sight of something from the other corner of his eye. He looked back ahead and froze at the sight of a second Nagarai standing before him. This one without the bizarre physical anatomy. As the blockage of blood to his brain started to take its toll, Mizuki despairingly relented. "Alright! I give-"
Again his words were cut off by a hand shooting at him. The real Nagarai grabbed Mizuki by the jaw, palm completely covering his mouth. Confused and afraid, Mizuki looked Nagarai in the eyes. He saw nothing in them but cold apathy.
The clone that grappled Mizuki burst. Ice cold water poured over his entire body. Mizuki flinched from the surprise. Yet it was nothing compared to what came immediately after it. A spark on Nagarai's hand became a stream of electricity shooting through Mizuki's entire body, conducted by the water that thoroughly soaked him. He screamed into Nagarai's palm, his entire body spasming as every single nerve he possessed violently reacted. The water steamed and hissed. His flesh seared. He had never known agony like this in his life.
Amidst the shriek of lightning, a popping sound could be heard. Nagarai blocked the fluids with his free arm. He relented the lighting and let go of Mizuki. The dead ex-shinobi fell back from the blackened patch on the floor where he stood, empty eyes staring up towards the ceiling. Scorched skin gave off an acrid stench that rose in thin, smoky trails. Nagarai stared down at Mizuki's body, feeling nothing.
"Primary objective complete." he thought to himself, stepping over Mizuki's body to wipe his sleeve on the sheet of the gurney. Now for the next step. Procure the transcripts of Mizuki's interrogations, then hide his actions behind an explosion that will be written off as an enemy attack. Of course Nagarai would have to sufficiently injure himself in order to sell the story, but that would not be a problem.
Danzo trained his operatives to be capable of at least that much.
Looking down both sides of the hallway, he listened for any sound of someone coming his way. The coast sounded clear, but he knew better than to leave the body here for chance to betray him. He grabbed hold of Mizuki's ankles and began dragging the body to a nearby door. He opened it and brought the body inside a janitorial closet. There he opened up his weapon pouch and procured several paper bombs. He stuck them onto the body and either wall of the closet. He stepped out, placed a cement pellet in the notch of the deadbolt, and closed the door. The pellet would burst and seal the door shut, just in case.
He began the next part of his mission. He knew well where the transcripts were kept and had to make haste before one of the civilian staff members took it to safety. On the way he stuck bombs on whatever surface no one would look upon. If the village survived the current attack, it would do fine without this building for a while. If not, it wouldn't matter. Root's cover had to be maintained.
He reached the file room and found to no surprise several workers throwing files into cardboard boxes. A quick scan told him that they had not yet reached the filing cabinet where Mizuki's documents were kept. With no effort at all, Nagarai put on a distressed expression and addressed the people inside the room.
"Forget the documents!" he shouted. "The enemy has placed bombs in the building! Evacuate immediately!"
The terror in the eyes of the men and women assured him they would need no second telling. He stepped back and ushered them to the exit well away from where he had killed Mizuki. Not a single one of them looked back as the room emptied. When the last one was out of sight, Nagarai's expression flattened again. He entered the file room and headed straight for the cabinet he needed.
Several months ago Mizuki betrayed the village by attempting to steal the sacred Scroll of Seals passed down since the birth of Konoha. To the masses, and even Mizuki himself, this was the act of a man with no love for his village looking to make his fortune and retire in obscurity as a missing-nin. There was more to this deed, however. Mizuki did not come up with this plan on his own. He was guided towards it, and the path to the scroll was kept clear to ensure he would succeed. The intent was to create artificial security gaps so that Danzo could further push his agendas upon the Sandaime.
But things became more complicated when Mizuki involved the Kyuubi Jinchuuriki. The matter became much more closely observed, out of concern that Mizuki had also planned to put the Jincuuriki in the hands of Konoha's enemies. The chance of Root's involvement being discovered were low, but Nagarai was ordered to infiltrate the Torture and Interrogation Force nonetheless to watch over the situation and, should the chance emerge, silence Mizuki.
The current chaos seemed like the most apt opportunity, in Nagarai's opinion.
It didn't take him long to find Mizuki's file. He flipped through the pages to confirm before slipping them inside his flak jacket. For a moment he considered looking around for other files of interest. But it was rejected quickly. If Danzo had wanted more from him, he would have ordered it. Stepping outside of the bounds of the mission is unnecessary and presents an unacceptable margin for error.
Nagarai stopped. He heard the sound of the handle to the door turning. He closed the drawer of the cabinet and turned around, keeping the side with his weapon holster away from the view from the door and his hand near it. The door opened slowly, but the one responsible made no bid for stealth. When it stood completely ajar, the light from the file room cast upon the individual. Nagarai was perplexed.
"Yakushi." he spoke, unmoving. "Why are you here?"
There was something off about the way Yakushi Kabuto stood there. There was nothing deliberate in the way he held himself. No guard or purpose. He looked inadvisably relaxed as a matter of fact. It was a possible feint, of course. Kabuto's role as a Root operative was infiltrator after all. But of course this was different. There was no need to put on an act for a fellow Root member.
Therefore, he likely wasn't here as a member of Root.
The second Nagarai reached this conclusion, Kabuto twitched his wrist and a curved kunai appeared in his grasp. He dashed forward and in a split second was right in front of him. But Nagarai hadn't lowered his guard even at the sight of an associate. He drew his own and guarded against the swipe. By the weight Kabuto put into pressing his kunai into Nagarai's, it seemed he intended to initiate a bladed deadlock. Unfortunately for him, there was a significant difference between the two men. Kabuto infiltrated for the purpose of gathering information.
Nagarai infiltrated for the purpose of assassination.
A fraction of a second after the kunai connected, Nagarai lashed out with a front kick to Kabuto's gut. The impact staggered the younger shinobi backwards. Nagarai threw his kunai at Kabuto, aiming purposefully a little high. Kabuto, surprised by the swiftness of the counter and parry, ducked to avoid the blade. But the moment the kunai left Nagarai's hand, he brought both of them together in a quick pair of seals. He grabbed the filing cabinet beside him and arced lightning chakra through the metal. It jumped between cabinets until it reached the one beside Kabuto. There, a drawer burst out with great force and speed, striking Kabuto in the head. He crumpled to his side immediately.
Nagarai stood over the dazed Kabuto, studying him from above. That was pitifully easy. Too easy for a Root operative. His eyes narrowed as he looked upon Kabuto's face. Something was wrong. The side of the face that was struck by the drawer was misaligned from the rest. Almost like the face itself was artificial.
Sudden movement caught Nagarai's eye right then as two more Kabutos ran in from the doorway. One leapt atop the line of filing cabinets while the other flanked from the side. The twin assaults were much more threatening than the attack of the first. Nagarai was forced to block and evade rather than outright counter. It was trying. He wanted to punish the one on his left for the foolish ascension, but the readied attacks of the one to the right enabled the foolishness and forced Nagarai to defend from his right, his left and above.
"When fighting multiple opponents in close quarters..." As once as a thousand times Nagarai was glad of his spatial awareness. He didn't have the luxury of checking, but he knew that not far behind him one of the lower drawers of he cabinets had been left open by the hurried workers. The two Kabutos pressed their attacks harder as he drew nearer, clearly intending to trip him. Instead at the right moment he stepped up onto the drawer. "never lose sight of your surroundings!"
One Kabuto reached in, in case Nagarai jumped back. The other attacked high, in case he climbed. But it seemed they did not know they had reached the emptier side of the file room. Nagarai's weight was enough to topple the cabinet forward, enabling him to perform a dodge roll around the Kabuto on the floor. He landed low and swiped with his leg at the back of that Kabuto's knees, but there was enough reaction time for that one to flip forward and evade.
The other turned and threw his kunai, which Nagarai was fast enough to catch out of the air. It was a ruse. They expected Nagarai to dodge left or right. The higher up Kabuto leapt to Nagarai's right while the one that flipped threw his kunai too to punish Nagarai if he dodged to the left. Instead Nagarai blocked the second kunai and burst forward, vaulting over the line of cabinets and into the next aisle. The two Kabutos didn't pursue him immediately. Instead they carefully stepped around to the ends of the aisle they occupied. Nagarai was just considering his next action when, unpleasantly, the first Kabuto rose up, pulling his face back into position. As if the situation wasn't difficult enough.
"I need room to form seals." slowly he squatted down, ready to move at a moment if any of the three lunged at him. The one in front and the one on the left procured a pair of those curved kunai each, while the one on the right began to weave his hands together. Nagarai reacted to this and leapt straight up in a single flipping bound to the ceiling, repeating the same two seals he used earlier. "Raiton: Shocking Vein!"
Landing feet first on the ceiling, he grabbed the hot bulb of the light in his hands. He ignored the pain as he jolted a stream of lightning through it and the wires that connected the rest of the bulbs in the room. Each one of them exploded in a shower of glass that cast the room into near darkness. What light was left came from the open doorway, dim though it was. Nagarai threw himself back the instant his jutsu was complete, narrowly dodging a pair of kunai in the process.
He landed within another aisle. Unfortunately there was no way to mask his descent. Even if the room had been in total darkness, the thin pieces of broken glass crunched underfoot. Judging by the approaching sounds of more broken glass, his position was indeed compromised even in his low stance. Still, he was not without tricks still up his sleeve. Though it wasn't quite the ideal circumstance, he put his hands before his face in the snake seal.
A deafening explosion erupted several hallways back as the paper bombs detonated. Streams of flame rushed down the corridors, filling the file room with a flash of orange light for just a second. The glow of the lights was replaced by the blaze of flame. The three Kabutos unanimously whipped around in shock of the unexpected explosion. They then looked up sharply as the sprinkler system activated, pouring water over them all.
"Burning through a lot of chakra fast. Need to end this quick." Nagarai felt the cascade of water drizzle upon him as he changed his seal from the snake to the tiger. "Hydro Clone Jutsu!"
He reached his chakra into the water touching his body. The streams reached out, absorbing the droplets and taking on bigger, solid forms. In seconds, there were two copies of himself standing in the darkness. They moved without need for command, one darting around the aisle, the other vaulting over. Nagarai took a breath and came around the other aisle, headed straight for the Kabuto that had opted for jutsu in place of kunai.
He recognised the fierce blue light rushing around this Kabuto's hands. The Chakra Scalpel; a surgical technique. The mere sight of it spoke volumes of Kabuto's intentions. Plenty enough information for Nagarai to know how to approach.
With each step he'd taken since forming the clones, he had been pooling his chakra to his feet, pulling what he stepped upon. Another string of seals and a tricky performance of chakra control saw him lashing a kick that was a long shot from connecting. But that wasn't the intention. He surged lightning chakra into the shards of broken glass on the sole of his sandal and shot it out in a sharp hail scattering towards Kabuto. It appeared his trick was unexpected, for Kabuto failed to dodge in time. He could only block as the glass shrapnel penetrated the skin of his arms and tore through his clothes. The technique was by no means fatal, nor even that damaging. But the instinct to guard one's face? That was valuable.
It was proof that this one wasn't expendable.
That wasn't the only benefit. With Kabuto's eyes momentarily blocked, Nagarai charged in low and delivered a punch at his maximum range to Kabuto's gut. Kabuto predicted the attack and jumped back. His hands drew from his eyes just in time to see shuriken flying right at him. His only option was to sway back hard. He dodged the shuriken and rolled backwards. He expected Nagarai's continued assault and slashed out with his chakra scalpel the instant his feet hit the floor again. Nagarai backed off.
"He hasn't relaxed his hands from that position since he performed his jutsu." Kabuto retaliated with a frontal assault, pressing forward while slashing. Nagarai weaved around the attacks. He had to admit he was impressed. No openings. He protected his vulnerable areas very well without trading off on his aggression. The mind of a medic at work, he supposed. "First I need to interrupt his focus on the scalpel."
When Root members acted without need for disguise, they carried their tanto on the back of their hip just like everybody else. But in the Torture and Interrogation Force, it went without saying that carrying open weapons was a safety risk. For this reason Nagarai established the cover of a man that, though dependable, was unsociable. He sat with no one. Therefore no one knew of the tanto he carried on his back.
He feinted high to invite Kabuto to make an attack that would allow him to draw his weapon. To his surprise, Kabuto didn't take it, and instead punished Nagarai with a sweeping kick to the shin. The force buckled him and dropped Nagarai to one knee. Making the most of the opportunity, Kabuto slashed with the chakra scalpel, aiming right for Nagarai's chest. It was dangerous, but Nagarai had no choice. He reached out and grabbed Kabuto's arm to stop the attack. And of course received a swift cut to his own arm for it. He winced in pain as the muscles were severed. Kabuto smirked again as Nagarai lost all control of his hand.
"This is surprising." he mocked. His hand reared back to strike again. "You're nowhere near as strong as I'd heard."
The look of pain dropped from Nagarai's face. "Would you say I'm only around ten percent as strong?"
The odd question caught Kabuto off guard. The smirk disappeared and was replaced with a troubled from. His eyes whipped to the side as he suddenly caught sight of one of the other Nagarai's leaping at him, kunai in hand. "I was fighting a clone!" he realised, turning to meet the coming attack. This Nagarai slashed at him. Kabuto swayed and countered. But against his expectations, his hand cut far too easily through his target. The attacking Nagarai became translucent and hit Kabuto full force, knocking him back. "No! He was bluffing!"
By the time Kabuto realised this, Nagarai had drawn his tanto and lunged. His blade penetrated the pit of Kabuto's arm and reached up, severing several internal organs, including the wind pipe. Kabuto hit the wall. The hydro clone became nothing but water. Blood spurted out from his mouth as he slid down, clutching his throat.
Nagarai glanced across the room. The other two Kabutos twitched before falling into crumpled heaps on the floor. So he returned his attention to the one that most seemed to be the real one. "This is convenient." normally he wouldn't speak at a time like this, but he wanted to try and pry some information from Kabuto before he passed away. "Now I actually have one of Orochimaru's agents to blame the explosion on. I won't need to mutilate myself. Thank you."
Kabuto glared at him, but the anger was fading as he struggled to breathe. There was no glimmer of confusion in his look, but it wasn't enough to say one thing or the other. Sadly it didn't look like Nagarai was going to get anything substantial out of this traitor.
He considered staying to watch Kabuto die, but a crashing sound from outside the room reminded him that the building was currently unsafe. He took a moment to check upon the documents he'd grabbed to make sure they were still with him. Then he stepped over Kabuto's legs and walked out of the room.
A new explosion from the hallway threw him from his feet. He soared backwards, head striking against a cabinet. He was unconscious before he hit the floor.
A distance away, yet too close for comfort, a deep rumbling sound permeated. Nagarai came to when the tremors jostled him from the darkness. A searing migraine in his skull bit away at his thoughts. He tried to move, but his limbs ignored him. The only things he could seem to manage were breathing, and opening his eyes.
A ceiling fan hung static above him. The air was somewhat stuffy. The only source of light was coming in through the blinds of the window to his right, surrounded by photographs and dining room furniture. From what he could see and hear, the battles were taking place somewhere beyond these streets. A rattling sound from his left caught his notice. He turned his head and found... Kabuto. Standing there with his back to him, seemingly alive and well.
"The one I killed was flesh and blood." this Kabuto looked just as drenched as Nagarai himself was. He tried to see if there was a hole in the clothes where he had stabbed, but Kabuto was busying himself with an array of tools on a set of drawers. That said, watching closer he could see that Kabuto's left arm was making much stiffer movements. The dots connected and Nagarai couldn't keep himself from staring at the back of Kabuto's head, as if it too had a face. "He healed himself from that?!"
That was impossible. The kind of cut he'd dealt would have severed several arteries, perhaps pierce a lung and certainly go through the throat. To perform the kind of medical surgery to save oneself while blood poured into the lungs was beyond even what the legendary Tsunade could do, Nagarai believed. The only explanation that made sense was that there was another on hand medic. The real Kabuto? The other Kabutos had been some sort of flesh copies, and crumbled the moment this one was downed. If that had been a ruse in order to make Nagarai lower his guard-
"Actually, I think I'm the one who's due to show you gratitude." Kabuto turned his head and smiled coolly. Nagarai didn't take his eyes off of his captor's, though the spotted in his peripherals the brush with which Kabuto appeared to be inscribing seals unto a scroll. "These past several years have been remarkably straightforward. Everything went off without a hitch. I suppose this made me conceited." delicately he picked up the scroll and brought it over to the table Nagarai lay paralyzed upon. "Thank you for correcting my hubris. That said..."
All delicacy disappeared as Kabuto drove his fist into Nagarai's gut. Air exploded from Nagarai's lungs and his diaphragm seized up, preventing him from drawing more back in. He choked and wheezed for several long lasting seconds while Kabuto sadistically smirked. He leaned in close. "I'm sure you won't begrudge me for that."
While Nagarai continued to gasp and until his muscles relaxed enough for him to regain control, Kabuto went about putting his tools away. Once they were securely returned to his pouch, he returned to Nagarai's side, no less enjoying himself. Despite his training, it was Nagarai's turn to glare up at his attacker.
"You haven't... killed me..." he panted. "But you should know... you can't make me talk."
Kabuto snorted. "Do you really think you have anything you could tell me anyway?"
Nagarai lay perplexed. And perhaps frustrated, if that was the right descriptor for what he was experiencing. True enough he couldn't think of a reason why Kabuto would wish to kill him, but likewise he had no idea what information he could look to pry. As a fellow Root member he knew well enough of the curse seal that restricted them from speaking anything of Root's operations.
"As much as I like to watch you struggle to figure things out, I don't have the luxury of time." the mirth Kabuto had displayed evaporated as he set to his unsettling work. He lifted the scroll he'd just scribed and turned it over above Nagarai's head. Realising his purpose, Nagarai considered resisting what little he could. But he knew it would simply be an act of futility. A delay of the inevitable. Kabuto pressed the scroll upon Nagarai's forehead. He felt the wet ink against his skin. "Just in case there's some shred of you that hasn't been completely indoctrinated, I'll tell you not to be afraid. I'm sure you'll agree afterwards that this is for your benefit."
"Benefit?" Nagarai was no closer to understanding Kabuto's motive when the scroll was peeled away. He could feel the ink still upon him. Kabuto shredded the now useless scroll and discarded it in a nearby waste bin. He then returned to the head of the table, smiling down upon Nagarai.
"What I'm about to perform is a procedure on your brain. I don't know how much you've been able to retain after Danzo's brainwashing, but I doubt it's very much. According to my research you're a special case. You've had some memory alterations implanted alongside the reconditioning. Tell me. What do you remember of your life before Root?"
Another rumble saw the room shake, yet Kabuto remained unconcerned by it, as if he knew the danger would not reach this place. His complete calm and provocative words addled with Nagarai's already aching head. Yet he had presence enough to answer.
"Danzo-sama did no brainwashing. I was a slave to a rebel faction. They manipulated me with deceptions and illusions. Danzo-sama rescued me, helped put my mind back together, and gave me a renewed purpose."
Kabuto snorted derisively. He leaned in again, displaying an inadvisable flair for dramatics. "The funny thing about brainwashing is that at our roots, we've all been affected by it. Any time you've ever resisted doing something because you don't want to upset someone important to you, you've allowed yourself to be manipulated. Those that don't are called mentally ill. Sociopaths mostly. The ones that refuse to let the rules of society inhibit their decisions." he smirked. "This I learned from Danzo."
His perspective was contentious, but it meant little. Philosophical quandaries were of no value to an assassin, and so Nagarai had been taught not to care about such things. Yet for some reason Kabuto seemed to believe he was doing Nagarai a favour right now. Since he couldn't figure out why on his own merit, the only logical conclusion was to press. It seemed that Kabuto was fond of talking anyway.
"Then your goal is undo this brainwashing?"
"... Such inanity." he placed his hands on the table and stared deep into Nagarai's eyes. "Brainwashing isn't something that can just be "undone". It's a process that takes months to properly implement. Anything I could do with fuinjutsu like this would leave holes in your psyche that would eventually lead to a detriment."
"He has plans for me."
"What I'm about to give you is some simple perspective. You've spent a considerable amount of your years living another life. You're feelings towards the life you lived before have diminished over time, strengthening the hold Danzo has over you. This procedure here will remove the marks on your brain that perpetuate the memory alterations that help make you believe the history that's been drilled into you."
"He needs me to rebel against Danzo-sama."
"Following which your brain will want to correct itself. I will aid in the process by having you quickly relive your own memories, up to the moment when Danzo took a hold of you. It's complicated, but all that matters to you is that this is the gist of it. You will relive your early history, and from there you will be free to make your own decisions about how you want to proceed."
"He probably wants to implant memories himself to make me disbelieve." Nagarai glanced quickly to his right. At first his eyes fell upon the clock on the wall. It was ticking normally. Then he looked at the cabinet beneath the window. Carefully he observed the line of sunlight across the panel of wood. Finally he turned his attention back to Kabuto. "How long will this take?"
It seemed Kabuto took Nagarai's words as willing consent. He straightened up and began forming a long, complicated series of seals that Nagarai failed to follow. "Just a few minutes. If you know the workings of the memory alteration technique, it's folly to undo it. And I'm the one responsible for providing Danzo with the methods for which to perform such a thing."
Nagarai resisted the urge to narrow his eyes. Either Kabuto was attempting to reinforce the idea of Danzo possessing memory alteration techniques with a believable lie, or he was confessing to knowing such techniques himself. But Nagarai wasn't totally ignorant to the field of memory alteration. A convenient coincidence of his cover as a member of the Torture and Interrogation Force was that he had witnessed first hand the details of techniques of that nature. Simply put, a few minutes was not enough to implement them.
But he would likely be unconscious for the duration anyway.
As Kabuto finished forming his seals, Nagarai closed his eyes. He felt Kabuto's hands grasp either side of his head. Felt chakra reaching in through his temples. Then, like he expected, he once again slipped into darkness.
He dreamt.
Nagarai's eyes fluttered open. Vaguely he felt a warmth on either side of his head leave. Somewhat he saw a ceiling fan above his head. To a certain extent, he could hear noises in the distance. The details took their time swimming slowly together into something coherent. When the time came that he was able to act with any sense of clarity, he found Kabuto over by the window, leaning against the cabinet.
"So tell me." dark clouds had gathered outside. Much of Kabuto's face was cast in shadow. "How do you feel?"
Nagarai hesitated with his answer. He glanced again at the clock on the wall, found the albeit dimmer line of light on the cabinet. The clock would be an easy alteration, but unless Kabuto had predicted well and implemented a genjutsu, only a few minutes had passed according to the distance the sunlight had travelled. Either an elaborate lie, or the truth.
Kabuto waited silently for an answer. Nagarai searched his mind for one to give. "Nothing of my memories seem to have changed. You must have failed."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Nagarai gave pause. Why did he admit to that? It was uncharacteristic. What he should have done was pretend that Kabuto's procedure had been successful in order to learn more about what his captor's plans and expectations were. It was only the most logical conclusion.
Kabuto's head dipped a touch lower. "I asked you what you felt, not what you think." he made a circling motion around his stomach. "Do you feel any sensations in your gut right now?"
Nagarai opened his mouth to respond, but held it back. Now that the question was put to him, he did notice some strange sensations going around inside of him. They were hard to explain. Unfamiliar... and yet at the same time reminiscent. "Nausea."
"Hmph. That my friend is what we call "unease"." Kabuto straightened up and approached the side of the room at the foot of the table, where Nagarai could not clearly see. "I supplemented the procedure with some light drugging. Nothing serious. The mind is a fragile thing and the last thing we need is you having an emotional breakdown in the middle of the street. You'll feel sedated for a while, but it will wear off soon."
Unease? Another impossible thing. Unease was for the inexperienced. A reprehensible emotion that serves no purpose to one worthy of serving as an active member of Root. And yet, for some reason, the expression resonated with Nagarai. He was in a situation of which he understood little and had no control. If he was to feel anything at the moment, unease would certainly be the most appropriate emotion he could think of.
Rustling drew his attention to his feet. He tried to crane his neck and to his surprise found himself to a degree capable. Again Kabuto had his back to him while dealing with something. A bag. Kabuto began to pull out what appeared to be clothes. Jet black slacks, white tee, slate jacket, faded blue muffler and dark grey sandals.
"I left a cadaver copy of you and an anonymous Oto ninja in the file room." Kabuto piled the clothes up neatly and brought them over to the table. "I'm sure you'll understand before too long that it's for the best if Danzo believes you died fighting an enemy." he put down the clothes and procured a syringe from his medical pouch. "I'm going to inject a harmless venom into your skin that will cause some swelling to make you difficult to recognise. I don't need to remind you of the precautionary measures your fellow Root members will take given the present circumstances, do I?"
It was quite unpleasant to admit, but Nagarai had to give a shake of the head. In the eyes of any fellow Root member he would be unquestionably compromised and would require immediate termination for security. His training taught him that misfortune was an unavoidable aspect of the shinobi life, and that death should not be feared. Yet right now, at this moment, he could not help but find the prospect to be extremely undesirable.
These atypical thoughts were troubling.
Good sense told him not to resist as Kabuto pierced his skin with the needle and injected the venom. The sensation sent a shiver down his spine and he felt an unwelcome heat growing in his cheek, his lower lip and his brow with each respective dose. Heat turned into a burning pain, but nothing that Nagarai couldn't endure while maintaining his usual cold expressionlessness. After the third injection, Kabuto put the syringe away and began forming more seals.
"Now I'm going to heal the incisions I made on your muscles so you can have a limited degree of movement." his palms lit up in the green glow of healing chakra that he set upon the invisible injuries he must have earlier put upon Nagarai's unconscious body. "You won't be able to do much on your own, so I wouldn't get any ideas. Believe it or not this is just the middle of my day."
While Kabuto went to what looked like simple work, Nagarai observed him just to be sure. His hair was still wet, but it was drying out. His clothes were still sodden looking. From here he could see the bloodstains on the shirt. The small area perplexed Nagarai more on Kabuto's present condition. He must have healed his body without relieving pressure from the wound. Given its location, that was yet another impossible thing from what Nagarai understood. But by now he no longer labelled these things as such. He merely accepted that Yakushi Kabuto was exceptional beyond his comprehension. For now anyway.
It didn't take long for Kabuto to return to Nagarai some motor control. True to his word his range of motion was limited. His left arm, his torso, his waist and right leg. The choices were obvious. Kabuto intended to assist Nagarai in limping out of here. No doubt after watching Nagarai strip down, change into those clothes and be without a single weapon or tool upon him. Whatever he may have hidden that was. He could tell by simple sensation he had already been removed of his open gear.
When done, Kabuto confirmed Nagarai's expectation with a jerk of the head. He backed off to the window again and allowed Nagarai to struggle up to a seated position. It wasn't a great feat to change out of his ninja gear with one arm, though slipping on the tee shirt and jacket took time. During the effort his senses dulled and his focus hardened on the clothing. He found himself growing forceful, until he realised it. He recognised the symptoms of his actions as frustration. An extremely criticised emotion.
"What happened during the procedure?"
Eventually though he was fully dressed. The clothes fit him well, though by now he had come to expect as much. He looked to Kabuto. The medic looked back at him, condescending smirk exchanged for a more serious stare. "Before we go any further, I have a message to pass onto you. From Orochimaru-sama. 'If there's anything you'd like to discuss, feel free to come and find me.'."
Nagarai remained silent. He fumbled with the zipper of his jacket and pulled it up to his collar. That message implied that Kabuto had no intention of dragging Nagurai along anywhere. Which made the motivation for all of this all the harder to figure out. Whatever it was, it all came down to whatever Kabuto did to him. Instinctively he touched his forehead. He felt nothing there. No ink residue on his fingers either.
In any case, he was growing tired of delaying whatever was to come. "Let's get moving then."
It appeared Kabuto appreciated his forwardness, for he shrugged and put his hands together in a seal. A distracting cloud of smoke burst out from him, and when it dispersed his face and clothes changed into that of a plain looking civilian. Nagarai didn't question it as Kabuto collected Nagarai's old clothes and put them in the bag the new clothes had been carried in. Then he helped Nagarai to his feet and walked him out the door.
The state of the streets were worse than they appeared from the apartment. Fleeing civilians could be heard in every which way while ninja loudly and urgently tried to guide them to safety. The wind carried fine debris from somewhere deeper in the village, coating everything in a layer of mess. Smartly Kabuto led Nagarai into the empty alleys, leading him deeper towards the conflict. When they emerged, they were just a hundred yards away from an emergency station.
"Please!" Kabuto feigned distress as they grew near the station. Someone there, a chunin kunoichi in her early twenties by the look of her, hurried over to help. "I think he has a concussion! He can't move on his own!"
"Right this way!" the kunoichi took Nagarai's other arm and guided him to the station. Around the corner there was a tall stack of folded up wheelchairs. There for anyone that needed to be moved quickly but carefully. A shinobi that saw them come near hurriedly prepared one for Nagarai, who was seated in it. The kunoichi turned to Kabuto. "Get yourself to Yamaeda Street for evac! We'll take care of him!"
Kabuto nodded hastily. He gave one more look to Nagarai. Concern filled to the other two, but Nagarai recognised the smugness. He ran off back the way he came, leaving Nagarai to be pushed in another direction by the kunoichi. For the first time Nagarai was able to get a look at what was happening in the village. He was stunned at the sight of a colossal serpent battling a great toad. Legend and prestige told him that those were the signature summons of Orochimaru and Jiraiya. He was already aware of the former's presence, but knowing the latter was here was a great relief.
… Jiraiya?
"Excuse me!" the kunoichi spoke with greater volume than was necessary, perhaps due to the supposed concussion. "I'll need your name. For registration. Can you remember it?"
Nagarai tore his eyes away from the distant battle for a second to look at the kunoichi. Then, remembering that he was supposed to be incognito, he turned away. "Yes. It's-"
He froze. All sounds around him faded away as if his ears were blocked by wax. All sensation outside the beating of his own heart and the faint shaking of the wheelchair as it bumped over stones was gone from him. He saw nothing that was here in the present and the now. And his stomach felt like it held a ton of bricks.
"Sir?"
He blinked. "... Tenma. My name is Mistuba Tenma."
During his training to become a Root operative, he lived without a name. He, like everyone else, had no formal designation. When he completed the trials that saw him graduate, he was given the moniker Nagarai by Danzo. It wasn't really his name. Neither was the one he had just given the kunoichi. No, he remembered his real name.
It was Yahiko.