"Who needs a Yamanaka when you've got an Uzumaki!" Naruto proclaimed triumphantly as he finished up his last few brush-strokes.
"Um, what?" Kouta asked.
"A clan of mind-walkers," Naruto succinctly explained. "They can use their powers to enter the minds of others to extract information they might otherwise not want to share."
"Oh." Kouta said dumbly. "Are they hanyou too?"
"No, they're human." Naruto said as he sat next to the horned girl, who was still sitting up on the bed. "I'm using fuuinjutsu to create a similar effect. It seems to me that this girl's mind is buried – probably due to her head trauma. I'm going to bring it back to the surface."
"Fuuinjutsu?" Yuka inquired.
"Long story," Naruto replied. "But I can do lots of things by directing my chakra through special patterns of ink. That's the gist of it anyway."
"Chakra?" Kouta inquired.
"Basically its life-energy. Talented humans can control it, and use it to perform what you'd probably consider to be magic; like those Yamanakas I mentioned."
Naruto carefully placed two slips of paper on each of the girl's temples, and two corresponding pieces on his own temples. He turned to Kouta and Yuka.
"Our minds might be connected for awhile; I don't know how hard it will be to draw out her consciousness. Don't worry, we'll come to eventually."
With that, he took the girl's hands, and made contact with her bright eyes, full of innocence and curiosity. The squiggly lines on the paper glowed blue, and they both fell backward, their eyes closed. Soft blue light seemed to connect their temples.
Lucy found herself in a dark corridor, lined with endless doors on both sides. It was so long, she couldn't see the end of it in front of her or behind her. She narrowed her eyes. She was aware while her alternate personality was in control, so she knew what was going on. This must be some sort of representation of their minds. But what to do now? It was probably smartest to just wait for the blond to show up. After all, his goal was to help her regain control of her body.
Then... Kouta. He was right there, right in the same room as she was. She would prostrate herself and apologize. Then... then what? For so long her only goal had been to see him again – to say she was sorry. Once that was done, she had no real reason to want to stay alive. Perhaps she'd turn herself back in to Kurama. This time she'd be obedient, and suffer willingly as some small atonement.
Mind made up, she sat down cross-legged and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Huffing in irritation, she stood back up. It felt like she'd been sitting here for an eternity. She'd look for the blond hanyou then. She threw open the door right in front of her, stepped in without looking, and shrieked as she found herself falling out of the sky. After five terrifying seconds, she hit the ground, but somehow it didn't hurt. As she got up, she quickly took stock of herself and her surroundings.
She was standing on a narrow, cobbled street between two buildings. It was dark out; nighttime and overcast - the only light came from what shined through various sets of curtains. Suddenly, a voice screamed in terror. A child's voice. She turned sharply just in time to see a kid race past her, fast as his small legs could carry him. Several dark blurs pursued him.
Lucy blinked, and all of a sudden she was watching from another perspective as the boy tore past her again, making a sharp turn to scramble down an alley. It followed in this vein for the next several minutes: Lucy would watch the blurs, which she soon determined were men, chase the boy through the village she'd found herself in. As soon as they passed her, she found herself just ahead of them with no idea how she'd moved.
Finally, the boy rounded one last corner and yelped as he crashed into a man. Before he could scramble away, the man brought a fist down on the boy's head. The world went dark as the boy lost consciousness.
When the world brightened again Lucy found herself in what she assumed was a warehouse - if the musty scent and stacked crates were anything to go by. She was facing the boy from before, who was lying on top of some pallets. With a start, she realized he was bound. She walked up to him, and noticed the marks on his cheeks.
This was the same blond who was trying to fix her head up, but he was younger.
"Am I... am I witnessing a memory?" she murmured. She extended her hand, and it passed right through the body of the small boy like she wasn't even there.
"Looks like he's coming to," a gruff voice sounded. Sure enough, his small eyes opened as he groaned in pain. They widened in fear as he saw what was behind Lucy. Lucy turned to see... a mob. Not a huge one, but there were more than thirty people gathered in this warehouse.
"Wait! please!" the boy screamed desperately as several of the men approached his small frame. He began to wriggle desperately, but couldn't even make it to the edge of the pallet with his hands and feet bound.
Lucy watched with quivering eyes as they pummeled the child. He was a bloody and broken mess by the time they were through - taking shallow, labored breaths with his limbs bent at odd angles. Then, another man came up, carrying a pungent-smelling jerry can. As the man doused the boy in gasoline, he managed to gurgle out, "Please... why?"
"Justice you little shitstain," the man snapped.
The crowd closed in, ready to watch the main event as the man lit a match.
The boy's eyes widened as he saw the flame, and he began to wriggle desperately, but only managed to worsen his already severe wounds.
"No!" He screamed hoarsely. "Please don't do it!" Lucy saw the pure panic and desperation in his eyes. She saw the utter terror. She knew that look.
"You deserve this." the man's voice was cold as ice as he dropped the match. Instantly the boy began to wail in agony as his flesh blackened and peeled off. Blood ran like water. Lucy could only watch in muted horror. It wasn't the carnage itself that horrified her – she was plenty used to that. It was the boy's eyes. She had those same eyes. They festered with hate fueled by fear.
Her eyes widened when she saw that the boy wasn't dying. New flesh grew back to replace what fell off, and somehow he always had more blood to bleed. He burned and burned and burned, fresh flesh growing back just as fast as the old could blacken. He wailed and screamed in agony without end. Lucy wasn't sure how long she stood there, but it was easily hours.
"God, won't it ever die?!" cried a man in frustration.
Eventually, his screams died down to moans; he didn't have the energy to scream anymore.
"Please... just let me die," she heard his raspy voice croak above the crackle of the flames - flames that were still eating away at his ever-regrowing flesh. The ashes of his body piled up beneath him. She realized silent tears were streaming from her eyes.
"Let me die."
All of a sudden, Lucy was back in the hallway, her hand grasping the handle that had led her into that nightmare. She took a shaky step back, and bumped into a body. Whirling around, she came face-to-face with Naruto.
"I'm very sorry you had to see that," he said solemnly. "I never intended for you to end up here."
