"So let me get this straight..." Chushin said. He twirled a shuriken around his middle finger, which he occasionally took delight in tormenting me with. "We're going to sell both of them to get money ... which we could've gotten by killing this one-" he pointed at me "which I really, really want to do." He started pacing around the room, the kitchen/dining room/sitting area of a miniature cabin, situated nicely on the outskirts of Konoha's outlying forest. It was owned by an elderly couple, farmers, who were currently bound in the corner of the quaint home, shaking with terror.
Akaboshi ignored him and continued searching for something, finally deciding on an old pair of scissors in a kitchen cabinet. He stood in front of me and waved the scissors in front of my face. I scowled at him and tested my bindings.
He smirked. "You don't stand a chance," He tapped the scissors against the dreadful piece of metal still wrapped around my neck. "But if you and your pet here behave yourselves, I'll consider letting these old bags live for a few more miserable years."
My scowl became a glare.
His eyes darkened. "Understand?"
"Yes."
He looked at Iruka. The chuunin stopped struggling against Nango and nodded in silent agreement, begrudgingly. The oversized criminal grabbed Iruka's shoulder and pushed him to the ground. The teacher fell to his knees with a grunt, his arms still tied behind his back.
Akaboshi walked behind me, grabbed a fist full of hair, and started cutting. I saw silver locks of hair falling to the ground. I tested my restraints again, but it was useless without my chakra. I might have been able to break the rickety chair I was attached to, but it likely would've only succeeded in getting us killed.
"We don't have time for this," Chushin complained again.
"We'll make time. We need to get out of the Land of Fire, and we need money to do that."
"Then why don't we just kill him? We had a nice deal. Why would it be void just because we aren't in prison anymore?"
"Do you honestly think that greedy old man is going to give us anything except a rope to hang ourselves with? And Akio? He'd kill us for the funof it."
Mr. Hazel Eyes?
"And why can't we kill him and sell him for bounty?"
"Because there's a bounty on our heads too, dumbass," Benten retorted. "If we walk in there, for business or not, they'll have our heads too."
"Then why'd you agree to kill him in the first place?" Chushin demanded. "You were getting my hopes up."
Akaboshi sighed. "Honestly, I thought that son of a bitch would kill me on the spot if I didn't."
"I never thought I'd see the day our fearless leader would be pissing his pants at the thought of some bounty-hunter," the gray-haired sadist scoffed.
Akaboshi's anger must've clouded his focus, because he snipped a chunk of skin out of the back of my head. But he said nothing.
"You better watch your tongue, Chushin," Benten said with a grin.
A moment of silence passed as Akaboshi cut the last of my hair. He set the scissors down. "How does it look?"
"Well... Thank Kami you're not a hair stylist," Benten replied.
Akaboshi smirked. "Would you be able to recognize him like this?"
Benten looked me over. "Not without the mask and sharingan... Do you want me to do that one?" He nodded toward Iruka.
"No. He isn't well known, so I'm not concerned. We'll just need to get them a change of clothes... Chushin?"
"Yeah, yeah..." Chushin replied, going to rummage through the old couple's dressers.
"But I'll need you to conceal this," Akaboshi tapped my arm where the ANBU tattoo was etched into my skin.
Benten quickly placed a concealing jutsu, and the black symbol faded into nothing.
Akaboshi held a small mirror for me to see. "How do you like your new style, darling?"
I gazed into the mirror, and my coal black eyes stared back at me. My sharingan disappeared, denied access to chakra. My maskless face looked thin and weary. Dark circles appeared prominently under my tired eyes. And my once mess of silver hair was now only an inch long. I didn't even recognize myself.
"What? Don't like it? Too bad." He smacked the back of my head. "From now on, your name is Shou. If they find out your real identity, they'll kill you, so it's in your best interest to play along. Understand?"
I nodded. And glared.
Benten released me from the chair and Nango removed Iruka's bindings. I was given an off-white shirt and pants and Iruka was given the same in dark blue. The clothing barely fit me, and I felt a twinge of guilt taking the old man's clothing. Our hands were again secured behind our backs, and we were led away from the quaint, little cabin.
Within moments of leaving, I could hear the crackling of burning wood. Smoke began to fill the air. I knew what had been done, and I knew it was too late. I still turned in shock nonetheless. The cabin was already up in flames, the victims still trapped in its hellish blaze. Chushin threw the last torch onto the remaining wall and walked away, all smiles.
"You sick fuck! You promised you'd-"
Akaboshi drilled a fist into my stomach. "I said I would consider it." He dragged me to my feet and we started walking again, this time to the off-key harmony of screams and pleas for help. I should've done something, and I felt the guilt burrow in what was left of my soul. I spent the rest of the walk using every ounce of willpower I had to not stomp on my captor's Achilles tendon or strangle him with my own bindings. I wanted nothing more than to kill him. All of them. But I'd never make it alive in my condition.
We came into a clearing where a number of small buildings awaited. They looked relatively normal at first glance, as if they were a small community. But beneath the facade, they hid a portion of a booming criminal enterprise. Akaboshi grabbed my shoulder and pushed me ahead of him, using me as a human shield, should it have been necessary. He tapped lightly on a hidden door, which was concealed in the wall. It fell to the ground, and he pushed me forward and down the stairs to a seedy basement. His eyes darted cautiously around the room.
Three men, who had previously been playing a card game on a small table in the too dark room, were now standing at the ready with kunai drawn.
Akaboshi held his arms up as a gesture of peace. "I'm here to make an exchange."
The three men looked at each other and nodded in silent agreement. They lowered their weapons, but held them at their side. A bald man with a long scar down his right eye walked forward. "I don't usually accept living merchandise."
"You're bounty exchange?" Akaboshi asked, a sudden unease in his voice.
The man nodded. "That a problem?"
The Magaki leader shook his head, playing it cool. "I understand you're in the human trafficking business as well?"
"I'm not in that skin business, but you've come to the right place. Osamu might be interested," he said, nodding toward one of his comrades.
The man, Osamu, walked toward me and Iruka. "I'm not a trader," he said dismissively.
"Then keep them for yourself," Akaboshi insisted.
"You could always train them and turn a profit reselling them," the bald man suggested.
Osamu continued to inspect us, looking us over as if we were cattle. "I haven't trained in years."
"We only need a few thousand ryou. You can't get them at a better price," Akaboshi said, a sense of desperation in his voice.
"I'll take them, in that case," said the third party, an average looking brunette in his late thirties. "Could always use an extra set of hands... especially for so little cost."
Osamu held up his hand, and the man was immediately quiet save a nervous gulp. Osamu's dark eyes focused on me. "... I'll take this one. You can have the other."
Osamu and the brunette grabbed their betting money off the table and paid … for us. I watched as they passed the slips of paper to Akaboshi, and the whole thing seemed surreal. I was someone's property. My stomach rolled at the thought, but I never let it show.
"What's his name?" Osamu asked while cutting my bindings.
"Shou," Akaboshi said before I could respond.
"And this one?" the brunette asked.
"Yuuto."
Iruka sent me a quick, pleading look as if asking what to do. I simply shook my head. I could see in his clenched jaw and sorrowful eyes that he got the message. I'd already calculated the odds of getting out of there alive, and the chance was dismal in every scenario I could imagine. As much as I didn't want them to separate us, we had to bide our time.
Osamu led me out of the building and along a beaten path, even further toward the edge of the Land of Fire. He walked a few steps ahead of me, a sign of dominance on his part. But it gave me the opportunity to observe him in the light. He was tall and seemed well-built under his simple kimono. He was pale, with hair nearly as dark as his eyes. But something as simple as his gait troubled me the most. Each step was silent and sure, indicating agility. Indicating strength and training. Indicating shinobi.
I recalculated my chances of escape... Shit.
Thank you all so kindly for reviewing. :) I'm glad you enjoy it. Just a heads up... The next part is a bit dark, as it's the "hurt" part of the story. But your mileage may vary.
Constructive criticism is welcome.
