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VIII - Sleep
One week had passed since the strange confrontation between brothers. Sasuke once again sat in Mizuki's office, as was becoming routine. He decided not to mention the meeting between he and Itachi. It was on the illegal side of things. Of course, he had his suspicions about Mizuki. It was no accident that she timed their visit to the cafeteria that way.
She glanced up from her paperwork; her eyes were red-rimmed, probably from stress. Her glasses were crooked. "Hello, Sasuke."
"Hm."
"Apologies, once again. Every time I get promoted, a new stack of papers sprouts from my desk...there we go," she muttered. "Now. I think, based on previous encounters...we'll have to get you used to the idea of talking with Itachi."
"What?"
"We're going to do a role-playing exercise."
"...You can't be serious."
"Actually, I am. It's my job to make sure you don't get a glimpse of a pale guy with dark hair and snap. Until you can learn to cope with minimal effort, you'll stay in Konoha." Mizuki's dark eyes reminded him of a hawk. "I would assume you've been training your ass off with your spare time."
"What the hell else am I supposed to do?"
Sasuke glowered at her. She was standing between him and freedom. The woman smiled enigmatically. "Well, then. I don't have to tell you that you've already spoken to Itachi. Security cameras are not affected by genjutsu.
"Furthermore, if you're going to cast a genjutsu on the guards, for God's sake, don't make it a sleeping genjutsu. Then it's painfully obvious you snuck in. You're lucky that you're so important to the village. Otherwise, you'd be in prison."
The Uchiha was silent. Then, with a light smirk, he said, "You know this from...experience?"
"That's not the point." A hesitation. "I used a concealment jutsu."
Sasuke shifted in his seat. Before he could reply, Mizuki started talking again.
"Alright. I want you to pretend that I am somebody important to you. Then, you would tell me, while still pretending, what you would tell them. I can use a transformation jutsu if you think it would help.
"However, there is a risk that you might attack me, or try something that would make us both uncomfortable. I am willing to take that risk."
"This is stupid," Sasuke muttered.
"Do you have any other ideas? Perhaps we could take you to the archives and you can read all the top-secret files pertaining to your case? Waltz into Itachi's room and kill him?"
"You're the therapist. You figure it out," he said flippantly, staring fixedly at his feet. His arms were crossed.
Mizuki frowned and sighed. "Well. We could also, if you are willing, cast a genjutsu on you that would make you believe that you were fighting Itachi or Orochimaru. If I feel that you could hurt yourself or myself, I will release it. It is entirely up to you, though."
"How'd you be able to cast a genjutsu on me?"
"Take a chakra-suppressing drug. The one I have in mind would wear off within six hours. Either way, it's entirely up to you."
"Those are my only options."
"I could come up with something else, but for now, yes. I believe it's time we became more rigorous."
"I'll take the chakra suppressor." Sasuke darted a suspicious glance her way. He seemed to hunch in on himself.
The thought occurred to Mizuki that if he had a very developed sense of his own chakra, he could manage to keep it out of his system. No. He was a fighter. His medical knowledge was enough for first aid in the middle of battle, no more.
"Alright. After I get all that I need, I want you to follow me."
000
They walked to a room ensconced in the back of a waiting room. It was small and dimly lit, furnished with an upholstered chaise, a single end table, and an office chair. Mizuki told Sasuke to sit on the chaise; she handed him a glass of water and a red pill.
At his questioning glance, she said: "It's the chakra-suppressing drug. If I were to use a serum, such as the one used when you were first brought here, the effect would last much longer due to the more concentrated dose."
Sasuke swallowed the pill and gulped the water down. "Now what?"
"It's better if you lay down and relax for a few minutes while it kicks in. I'll have you hooked up to some monitors. Safety precautions."
He hesitantly did as she said. "What sort of genjutsu are you planning on?"
As she took his blood pressure and placed the various adherent pads that attached to her monitoring equipment, she talked. "I was about to ask you what you were comfortable with, but on the other hand, I believe we could start with Orochimaru. We haven't touched base on him as much as we should have." She wrote something down on a notepad. "Or would you rather see your mother?"
"Do what you want. It's only a genjutsu," Sasuke snapped.
"I want you to have a say in it." A hesitation. "I would like to apologize for the incident in the cafeteria again. That was not very kind of me."
"Just do it."
Mizuki sighed. "Once I cast it, it could be very difficult for me to control it, which is why I've got the monitors. Be warned: I'm no Yamanaka. If I could have gotten even Ino, that would have been a great help." She fell silent and began to slowly, deliberately form an intricate set of hand seals.
And then he was no longer in the room.
000
Itachi squinted up at the clock on the wall. It seemed that his vision was getting worse. Perhaps it was all the chemicals coursing through his circulatory system. He once read that if a person was on a chakra-suppressor for more than a few days, then they would suffer from severe fatigue, vertigo, nausea—typical symptoms of prolonged lack of chakra; on the flip side, there was also a small chance of blood clots, the inability to utilize one's chakra, and muscular atrophy, among other things. It had been almost two months.
Perhaps the drugs had changed since his teens. That was likely. He glanced at the monitor with its soft beeping in time with his heart beat. Would he hold out long enough for Sasuke?
"Maybe," he whispered to himself.
With sudden disgust he threw the sheet off himself. It might be too late before Sasuke figures it out. Painful, congested coughing burst forth from his quick movement. Less blood than before; the notion ran afoul of his plan. He needed to die. Konoha would probably execute him anyway, but they had a few reasons to keep him alive.
He could easily be bait for Akatsuki, a trap to fall into. Barring that, a master of mind-related ninjutsu could place a seal and make him obedient, and he would be a weapon again, a sort of misguided form of karma.
His thoughts turned back to Sasuke. The hate, he had expected, bred into the boy. Sasuke's hesitation was also expected. Sasuke would always hesitate, would always look for an alternative. But the glint of shock in his eyes did not fit the rest of the picture. Whatever Sasuke saw had also caused him to deactivate the Sharingan.
Itachi regretted neglecting his health. It had made him sluggish, reckless. Tsunade had been correct to reduce the dosages. His vague, sudden plan was salvageable now; he doubted that Kisame would try to enact a search. The Akatsuki would not be able to turn up any official records of his remaining alive. It was falling into place.
000
Mizuki carefully monitored Sasuke's vital signs. His heart rate was nearing one hundred; blood pressure high. His eyes fluttered open and shut a few times, something normal when she used this method. Abruptly, he sat up. That was her cue to dispel it.
He blinked. "What the hell was that?"
"I created a basic setting and your mind filled in the blanks. The results are generally more dramatic than simple henge-based role playing. You probably feel a bit disoriented right now. It'll pass."
After a few seconds, Sasuke leaned back, using his arms to support his weight. His eyes were half-closed, lips parted slightly.
"That was not what I expected," he managed to mutter.
Mizuki flipped open her notepad. "I need to know what you expected to happen. Then tell me what happened."
"I figured it would be similar to guided imagery, with the genjutsu being the platform for me to kill Orochimaru."
"It's similar, but not quite guided imagery. Is that all?"
"Yeah."
"What sort of differences did you notice between your expectation and what happened?"
"Well? I don't know. Similar, but ... " Sasuke's eyebrows drew together and he stared at the whitewashed wall. "Shit. It's not supposed to be sexual."
"Why would it be sexual?"
"I don't fucking know. You tell me."
"How was it sexual, then?"
The younger Uchiha hesitated. He seemed to be struggling with some fundamental part of the whole ordeal. He finally muttered something about snakes and touching. Mizuki jotted down a note about sexual overtones, and closed her notebook.
"Alright. We'll discuss this next time around." She removed all the monitoring equipment from his body. "You reacted more favorably than I hoped."
Without so much as a wave, Sasuke stormed from the room.
