Illusions
Author: NayanRoo
Chapter I
Negative Gemini: Thank you for reviewing. It ain't over yet. :D
Italics: thoughts
(Parenthesis: memory)
Brackets: cut to present time
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Just as, in this body, the Self
Passes through childhood, youth,
And old age, so after death
It passes to another body.
-Bhagavad Gita, 2: 13
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Konoha; Four Weeks After Capture, Six Weeks Before Trial
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Iluzi…illusion…Oro…
"Wake up, Uchiha."
Go away…he's got something more to tell me, I know it…
"Uchiha, get up, or do we force you?"
Sasuke cracked open his eyes unwillingly. Every part of his body felt like it was bruised or bloody somehow; his mouth felt dry, his tongue swollen. One of his eyes was closed from the bruising. It took all his energy to boost himself up into a half-sitting position on the thin mattress in his cell and stare, blearily, at the scarred man outside the bars.
"Ibiki? I've already told everyone what I know."
"Interrogations for the sake of information are over. We are going to collect your testimony. Get up."
Slowly, the Uchiha heir rose off the bed, using the edge to brace himself on. Taking an experimental step, he slowly advanced down the length of the bed, and when his legs didn't collapse from his full weight, he walked stiffly out of the cell, head held high and proud. He was chakra-exhausted, battered, and bound hand and foot, and still he managed an arrogant look.
An Uchiha to the end, Ibiki thought sadly. Always proud and haughty, even when they know they're going to die.
I must make him proud of me, Sasuke thought. I am better than submitting in the manner of a prisoner. He made me better. I do not have to bow my head to anyone.
With Ibiki in front of him and two ANBU behind, Sasuke was led down the passage between cells. Some contained Sound nins caught in the war; some held criminals from Konoha or surrounding villages. He didn't see anyone he cared to enquire about, and he certainly didn't see the reason he was here right now.
"Where is—"
"Quiet. That's not for you to know."
They left the cells behind and turned into a corridor of many doors. All were closed; some were dark, some were lit. Sasuke was escorted into one of these rooms. The walls were a flat white color, and the room was furnished only with a table and two chairs; Sasuke was seated in one of these and secured to it. His back was to what he knew was a two-way mirror. Behind it was probably the Hokage and her attendant, and possibly his old teammates. He didn't have enough chakra to discern their signatures for certain, and even if he had the available chakra, he wouldn't have had the drive to. It simply wasn't worth it to him anymore. Every torment they applied to his body hadn't gotten more than the information they wanted out of him; he hadn't broken yet. He hadn't become as a rag doll because he was a flame-hardened sculpture, delicate but strong. By not caring, but not showing that he cared, he gave them no fuel to for breaking him.
(You'll be captured—Sasuke, stay back!
I won't stand by and let them take you alone just because of your past! We're a team!
…very w—!!)
"Uchiha, stop daydreaming."
"I apologize."
"You are here to tell us, from the beginning, why you and Orochimaru returned to Konoha after being marked as missing-nins, why the both of you asked for quarter…what your moti- oh, fuck it, what the hell your motive was. Why? And why the attack?"
"I told you about the attack already. It wasn't us-"
"Your credibility isn't that high with us right now," Ibiki snarled. "Frankly, I think the both of you should have died the moment you returned to Konoha, miserable traitors that you are."
Sasuke smiled. "You're not very good at maintaining neutrality. If I'm to tell you or motives for anything, you'll have to keep an open mind. It's a pretty damn unbelievable tale even when you're preaching to the choir, and you, Ibiki, are hardly the choir."
"We just want answers, Uchiha. You were a brilliant student—you had a team that rivaled the sannin, one of which you were caught sleeping with, by the way—"
"I gave you—"
"We want the truth of the matter."
Sasuke smirked. "I already know the truth; repeating it is useless."
Ibiki slapped him across the face, producing a horrific throb in Sasuke's head. The young man spat blood. "Don't toy with us, Uchiha," the interrogator spat. "We know everything of value to you."
Sasuke sighed, giving in. "I'll tell you, fine," he said. "I'll have to go back some time before we came back here, though. At least three years prior, perhaps more."
"Fine. Just tell us."
"You're recording this, correct? I don't want to have to tell this more than once." A look of deep pain crossed his face. "It will be hard enough to tell it once as is."
"Of course we're recording. Get on with it."
"I'm going to need my hands, however, and water. It's a long, long story."
"We'll have it brought. Your hands will be unlocked when you need them."
"Fine." The last survivor of the Uchiha clan settled as comfortably into the chair as he could, swallowed, and began his story. "I was fifteen."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Sound: Four Years Ago; Three Years Prior to Return
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
It all began three years ago; he could even name the day. It had been a beautiful, lovely day in the last flings of summer. The leaves were turning all colors of red and orange; Harvest was upon the Land of Sound and Rice. His teacher had worn a kimono appropriate to the season, red and cream stark against skin paler than alabaster. For his complexion, the women of the nobility would have killed, but for the Snake it was natural.
He and his youngest, brightest student had walked through the village that day, giving their duty to the villagers. The Uchiha—fifteen, young, strong, beautiful—and the Snake, old, powerful, and great and terrible to behold, walking hand in hand as they did in a way that never seemed to hold any affection beyond a student-teacher bond, but at the same time seemed to be the most affectionate thing in the world. Sometimes—often—on these walks, Sasuke would look at wares on sale in the street booths, or walk into a store to more closely examine their goods, and Orochimaru would buy him a small gift, golden eyes full of that vague amused look they always held.
This time they simply strolled through the market. Sasuke did not stop, and Orochimaru did not offer to buy something with a laughing smirk. Neither spoke; both knew. They returned to their horses, and on the way back to the stronghold, Sasuke broke the silence.
"It'll be tonight, won't it."
No response but the creaking of their saddles as the horses cantered through the forest. There was no trail so no invading ninja could find their way to the leader's abode (provided he was there in the first place), and the forest was silent. No response from his teacher either, and his mentor's silence annoyed the student.
"Well, is it?" he pressed.
"Yes." The word hung between them like a string. Sasuke's mind worked, and the string pulled taut.
We'll defeat Itachi.
I'll be his body; I will lose myself.
He'll kill Itachi in my body.
I'm just a tool.
Itachi will be dead, and my hand will be the one guiding the killing blow.
"Then we should hurry."
A pause. Then: "Perhaps we should."
"I fail to see how any of this is important, Uchiha," Ibiki protested.
'Without knowing this, nothing else makes any sense at all, Ibiki," Sasuke replied. "You have probably found out from the documents you captured that Orochimaru's soul eventually corrodes the host body, correct?"
"Yes, and he has to continually find another body. I was supposed to be that body. This you know."
"Yes, that confused us quite a bit. So why are you here today?"
"That's what this part of the story is about."
Sasuke bathed especially carefully that night. It was three years ago to the day that he arrived in Sound. Despite what he knew would happen, he was excited, and his hands trembled as he scrubbed all traces of dirt from his body, cleaning between each toe and washing his hair twice. It had grown heavier and thicker here, but the weight couldn't make it lay down flat except when wet. Kabuto often joked—with a much more malicious intent—that Sasuke looked like a drowned weasel when his hair was wet. The prodigy had learned to control himself and even felt a little proud of not reacting to Kabuto's barbs; the medic was protective of his master, and Sasuke's training had often pushed Orochimaru's current host body beyond its capability, especially of late.
Leaving the bathroom wrapped in a towel, he saw someone had come in and laid out a plain cotton robe and sash on his bed. It was like what he slept in, loose and comfortable. Functional, like everything else used in the compound unless there was some sort of gathering going on. But those were usually held elsewhere, and Sasuke was dressed in fine kimono and treated like a porcelain doll. He sat at his master's knee or on his right hand, eating what was put in front of him and not speaking without permission from Orochimaru. It grated on his nerves, but it was what he was instructed to do. He realized the lessons to be learned from these times, and took them to heart. Patience, calm collection under pressure, concentration—all these he would use in the fight to come.
He dressed and put out his hand to open the door when it slid open. Kabuto waited outside, looking antsy. It was rare to see the silver-haired nin without his usual indifference—there were no doubts any longer. Today was the day he had trained three years for, the day he had endured countless humiliations and violations and inhumane stretches of no sleep, no food, no rest of any kind just to master one jutsu or one kata his master had deemed necessary. It was the last day ticked off on the calendar.
Kabuto led him away from the places of the compound he usually frequented and toward the labs. Sasuke had only been here to have tests run on his body to measure its development. Samples of blood, sweat, saliva, semen, bile, everything had been taken from him and put under the rare and delicate microscope that was the pride of the lab. Orochimaru had obtained it at great cost somewhere; it was a relic of a time gone by and a race long dead. The labs were full of cold, sterile things and reeked of synthesis and alchemy. Sasuke did not like the labs.
Kabuto gestured to an innocuous-looking door that could have been at home anywhere in the stronghold. "It was a pleasure working with you, Sasuke-sama."
"Whatever, Kabuto."
The spy pushed his glasses up and opened the door for Sasuke. "Orochimaru-sama will only be a moment."
Sasuke walked in. The door was shut.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"Orochimaru-sama, he's in. Whenever you like; the monitoring equipment is ready."
When his master's reply came, it sounded distant and quiet. Puzzled, Kabuto fiddled with the feedback knobs before he realized they were normalized. Looking at the screen, he saw his master still sitting in the antechamber, deep in thought.
"The jutsu only needs a minimum of three years…it can be stretched to four…correct?"
"Yes, but Orochimaru-sama, your body—"
"It can handle it. I'll need your skills."
"Orochimaru-sama, I think this is a bad idea. Sasuke-sama is ready to make the transfer, and your body won't last another year."
"You are certain?" The sannin's voice had that distant quality to it again.
"I'm positive. All the results of the tests we ran say that full degeneration of tissues should begin within half a year, and after that it won't matter whether or not the minimum time is three years. You'll need to change bodies. Orochimaru-sama, what are you thinking?"
On the monitor, Orochimaru stood. "Nothing. We'll see." Without another word, the snake sannin pulled the door open and disappeared inside.
Moving quickly now, Kabuto turned off the monitors to that room, switching them to the monitors inside Orochimaru's clothing, monitoring heart rate, respiration, chakra flow.
Chakra flow…normal. Respiration…a little high, still within normal parameters. Heart rate…Kabuto frowned and checked the numbers again. Heart rate abnormally high. 120 beats per minute. Is it just his body wearing out, or is he—
A very crazy, traitorous idea occurred to Kabuto at that moment, and he hoped he was wrong. "Can't be," he muttered, and went back to monitoring the various measurements. On another monitor, it showed Sasuke's numbers: Chakra flow normal. Heart rate and respiration slightly accelerated but within allowable variations. Why was the container normal—
He could just write it off to his inability to actually understand the equipment. Like the microscope, it had been recovered from an ancient race. No one, not even his master, could discern what it measured. Near as they could guess, it measured chakra output—but that wasn't what he had to focus on. They were making a body transfer, and one of the participants was being strange. Kabuto had to be on his guard, because who knew what would happen in this situation?
On the camera feed, it showed Sasuke standing confident and straight-backed; it wasn't hard to discern the set look on his face. An Uchiha to the end. His brother was the same way.
(Even though you failed with Itachi, you still plan to go on with the younger Uchiha?
Are you questioning me, Kabuto?
Not at all, Orochimaru-sama. I'm curious.
You see, Kabuto, it's like this--)
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Sasuke felt the air change when his teacher entered the hall. Orochimaru was one of those men that you felt entering a room, rather than saw. The temperature didn't drop or anything silly like that; but it was as though the power level shot up. The snake's face wore its usual cocky smirk as he approached. "It's been fun, Sasuke-kun."
"Shut up and make the transfer, Orochimaru." It's really happening…Naruto, Sakura, Kakashi, I'm sorry. But Team Seven was no more the moment I decided to leave. He steeled himself.
"So impatient," he heard his teacher chuckle. "Very well."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Kabuto felt a bead of sweat roll down his back. The air was too tense.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Swift white fingers formed the seals. For a moment Sasuke considered using his Sharingan to copy it, just for fun, but realized it wouldn't make any difference in about a minute or so. He could feel Orochimaru's chakra, could almost see it gathering around the sannin; in these last moments, he closed his eyes and waited for it to come.
He'd often asked what it would feel like. Would it be painful? Would I still be conscious of things going on, but have no control? He had never gotten the answers to those questions, he realized. But it didn't matter anymore. He would soon find out.
The chakra drew inwards, then shot toward him in a great mass like a lance. It struck him in the heart—there was the sensation of something, some great and terrible power, laying over him and around him and pressing into the core of him—
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Sasuke/Orochimaru staggered backwards, hands flying up to his head as his eyes rapidly flickered between gold, red and black. It blurred his vision.
Illusionrealrealrealityillusionohgodohgodmakeitstopthisiswrongwrongwrongwrong—
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Kabuto's hands flew across the keyboards, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. "Orochimaru-sama!" He yelled into the mic. "Orochimaru-sama, if you can, tell me what--!"
He watched in horror as the mass of purple chakra that identified itself as Orochimaru writhed and squirmed around its intended host. Occasionally it dove in, only to be pushed out again. Sasuke/Orochimaru screamed—the hands in his hair fisted tighter. "MAKE IT STOP, KABUTO!"
Pushing his glasses up, Kabuto pressed some more switches. This was a total disaster.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
It felt as though he was being torn apart.
Let me in, stupid boy! For the love of the gods!
I'm TRYING! I'm TRYING OKAY?
TRY HARDER! Ah, the pain—
WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON, OROCHIMARU?
I don't—ugh—
WHAT THE HELL IS THIS—
A mutual scream of pain ripped out of Sasuke/Orochimaru's vocal cords and made Kabuto, in the observation deck up above, cringe with the clarity of it. Pure pain rippled through his shoulders and spine, making him shiver.
Curling his/their arms around him/them, the figure on the ground raised confused eyes to the figure that had collapsed across from him/them, and again the lance of purple chakra that contained and shielded the soul of a soulless man shot across the room and enveloped the body. It jolted, shuddered and lay still again.
Disoriented red eyes watched as bolts of electricity shot through the limbs; it was being remotely stimulated by someone, probably Kabuto up above. Pain still coursed through his body, focusing in his tenketsu, and he moaned and scrubbed at them with his hands. Everything hurt.
Orochimaru felt his body—the body of the man he had previously occupied before this failed attempt—slowly coming back on line. He felt the decay of the tissues start again, and ground his teeth. Why had this failed?
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
In the booth above, Kabuto sat back and wiped his brow. He had brought the other body back to life through the application of electricity to the heart; and for another six months at least, this body would serve. But the three years of training and careful grooming of the Uchiha had just shown themselves to be a total waste of energy. The compatibility tests that they had ran and that Kabuto had developed himself had just shown themselves to be completely worthless.
His master would not be happy.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
A medic team came in without a word and put both the snake and the youth on stretchers for transport to their respective rooms. Sasuke curled up on the bed, the painkillers he'd been fed not yet taking effect.
Gone. It's all gone.
I'll never be able to kill Itachi.
My dream is worthless.
What am I still doing with my own breath?
He slept.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"Why?"
"I told you, Orochimaru-sama, I don't—"
"I want ANSWERS!"
Orochimaru lay in his bed, half-crazed with various forms of painkiller and a preservant that Kabuto had said would slow the tissue decay. It was a temporary fix to a long-term problem. And if the older nin kept up his drugged tirade, nothing would matter much. Kabuto had seen Orochimaru splinter a table to dust and kill indiscriminately and violently when he was in this state, doing the same amount of harm to himself when the kunai or the Kusanagi slipped and slashed some part of him—but of course, the painkillers deadened the sting and he wouldn't notice until he cut a tendon and collapsed. Putting on such a spectacle with a traumatized Uchiha only a few rooms down would be a terrible blunder almost as bad as the one that had just occured.
"I will have them for you, Orochimaru-sama, calm yourself and rest from this—"
"Kabuto-kun, have you forgot I do not like to be comforted?"
"Not at all, Orochimaru-sama," the medic-nin said calmly. "I will not sleep until I discern the reason behind this. You must rest now, however; your body and mind have gone through great trauma today, and in order for the jutsus and the medicines I have placed in you to work, you need to sleep."
The sannin gave him a look that clearly said I don't want to, but I'll humor you for now. Without another word, he laid his head back against the pillows and closed his eyes. Kabuto quietly shut the door behind him, considered locking it, and decided against it. If Orochimaru woke and found he'd been locked into his own room, he'd merely blow the door to bits and come for Kabuto with murder in his eyes.
Sighing as he went back into the lab and sat down with his notes and the video of the failed transfer. It was going to be a very, very long night.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Ibiki tipped his head back, thoughtfully stroking his chin with a gloved hand. Sasuke merely gazed at him, lost in memory still. "Those were dark times," he said quietly. "Very dark."
"I can imagine," Ibiki said slowly. "That it would be."
Sasuke laughed hollowly. "You have no idea," he said quietly. "Your spies were closing around us. He was already stressed, already moving at the breaking point between laying plans and keeping up with my training. Of course, as the date neared he'd dropped off on it, but I kept on without a thought to it until that day." The Uchiha smiled slowly. "That day is part of why none of your torture techniques could break me. Having another personality laid over yours…attempting to invade and push your own down, under, out—that's nothing compared to your methods. Being subjugated in that way is pain in its purest state."
"So how did the technique fail?"
Sasuke wet his lips, tongue still healthy and pink-looking even though he'd been surviving on minimal food and water for weeks now. "It took Kabuto some time to figure that out, and when he did, it came as a shock to us."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"Are you familiar with hypnosis and susceptibility to hypnosis?"
Orochimaru looked up from the scroll he'd been studying, held delicately in gloved hands. It was an old, old scoll of seals from Iwagakure—valuable, and undoubtedly containing information he had never encountered before. "Hypnosis? Not as well-versed as I should be. Why?"
"I think I've found out why we failed."
