Author's Note: I know, I haven't updated since February, and I'm sorry for that. But I just couldn't make the whole thing flow, and it was pissing me off. Then I just kind of redid the whole thing like..six times. Not even kidding. But anyways, here it is. Please review.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, or it's characters. The only character I do own however, is Arisa Oshiro & Tetsuo. BLAH.
"Ibiki-sama.." The voice trailed off almost instantly, as the blonde medic dropped her chart aside. "We need some back up here!" She shouted, before motioning for nurses to follow her in a professional manner. They reached Ibiki in a matter of seconds, instructing for him to continue holding the body in his hands as still as he could, before inspecting it with critical eyes, and muttering incoherently to one another.
Awkwardly, Ibiki did as he was told, and quickly muttered a barely audible word, "Ropes.."
Don't touch the ropes.
"What's her blood type?"
The voice was like a razor in the midst of Ibiki's fatigued mind, releasing a tremor of headaches. But he managed to acknowledge the woman with a simple, 'I don't know', before letting his mind drift somewhere besides the hospital. Unfortunately the subject matter wasn't so different. He found himself once again thinking of Kaori - the abnormally thin kunoichi that (he hated to admit) was getting to him - out of all people.
But maybe that was the point - was this some kind of karma the gods above decided to unleash upon him? To place a teenager under his work, incorporate a tedious amount of stress, and laugh, while he grew frustrated and tried to find the perfect balance between broken, dead, and insane? For Kami's sake, the Chuunin exams were already starting and he refused to have Konoha's downfall in his hands. What he needed as information, and fast.
Which meant more pressure. More blood, more gore, even if he didn't want to have to do it - he was going to cut off a limb or two if needed. But something was pulling him back..hoping that it wouldn't come to that. Apart of him was (dare he say it) scared of what would happen once he removed her arm and she started to laugh. It was completely plausible, considering his last sessions with her, which consisted a bunch of chillingly polite exchange of words, before a smile. At first it was nothing more than a mere annoyance, which irked him, but after a while when things started to get more violent..
Well, let's just say he was more than a bit creeped out. Especially when she laughed. It wasn't that kind of made up laugh that shinobi force out of their mouths to piss the other off.. No, it was different. Empty, mocking - the kind that crept into your head before you knew what was happening. The one that didn't seem to match the body it was coming out of.. and on the brink of sounding like a demon possessed - but not. Ibiki had certainly never heard anything like it before.
It's kind of like she's laughing at herself..
But he had yet to find out what was so humorous about getting stabbed..
Shaking his head, Ibiki couldn't help grind his teeth together, watching the girl's dirty face seem almost serene. Even in her unconscious state, she still managed to frustrate him. Would it really kill her to look scared every once and a while? To show him that this was getting to her, much more than it was getting to him? He didn't understand why she acted the way she did.. Unless..
Unless she was suicidal?
Perhaps. The girl did show an obvious indifference to death - never screaming, hardly flinching.. No struggle, whatsoever. But maybe that wasn't it. Maybe she felt a neutral indifference to how injured her body would get, as long as she didn't die. That was probably why she could remain so..infuriatingly calm. There was only torture on the table, never an actual execution. Not until she told him something anyway.
"She's so pale.." The same blonde woman commented, thrusting him back into his life just in time to watch her inspect the damage, and raise an eyebrow at the tightly bound ropes. "What's wrong with her body? Shinobi are so reckless.."
He knew exactly what she was talking about. The deep slices in her skin from jagged weapons, the unpleasant murky purple for bruises, and the remaining damage from the volts of electricity he had used. It brought back memories from the past as Ibiki could remember what they all felt like, but quickly pushed the thoughts away. Reminiscing was not something he needed to do, especially in a moment like this. He knew that it was crucial that the girl's head be sustained properly, and not receive extensive brain damage. If she died (maybe she had planned it?) then all the vital information would die with her. Then, if something were to attack Konoha, it would be his fault for not stopping it.
So Ibiki quickly sorted out his thoughts, maintaining an impassive face as he watched her be placed on to a stretcher. They maneuvered her carefully, trying to avoid damaging her skull further. "She's a Mist shinobi, a prisoner under interrogation, ordered by Hokage-sama." He informed them briefly, as the blonde nodded in understanding. "Remember to tie her down securely once she's been placed on to a proper bed." He paused thoughtfully, "I would also suggest tying her down when in surgery as well, seeing that she is not something to underestimate."
"Right."
"You have my permission to use a stronger sedative than necessary, as long as it doesn't kill her, or reduce her into a coma-like state." He continued, in a frighteningly robotic tone. "It's most likely for the best if she needs to remain here for a longer period of time."
She nodded again, before making a couple hand gestures for the others to move the girl. The entire time though, her eyes never left his. "What did you do to this girl?" She snapped, barely able to contain the hints of anger in her face. "It looks like she's been injected by some sort of uncommon drug.. Her arms are twitching."
Ibiki's gaze flickered off to the medic-nins, as they disappeared around the corner. Yeah, he had noticed that too.
"The drugs should wear off." He stated curtly, his voice more tight than he'd intended it to be. But only because he soon realized that he was experiencing small smudges of guilt in his consciousness. But before he could interpret it further, Ibiki reached into his pocket and pulled out a small glass tube. "It's exactly the same dose that was injected into her." He explained at her dubious stare.
She didn't waste time snatching it from his hands, before examining it like it was the most vile thing alive, and sent him an accusing glare. It was a perfect reminder why the Hokage had always stressed the interrogation sessions remained hidden (far away from prying eyes) underground.
"Her head..It's bleeding," The medic-nin said it slowly, as it waiting for him to explain himself. But when no response came fast enough before she hissed, "For Kami's sake, Ibiki! We don't know what the hell you do to them, but it doesn't take a genius to know not to aim for someone's skull!"
Ibiki could feel his body numb slightly.
"You're right, I was having an interrogation session with her." He muttered lowly, although it sounded like a confession of sorts. "She knocked herself out by slamming her head against the wall.."
As expected, she was disgusted. But at least she was about to cover it..somewhat well.
"She gave herself a concussion to get away from you?" She concluded in disbelief, before eying the clear tube in her hands once more.
Silence.
Ibiki himself didn't know what to say, which was, well, strange, because he usually knew the perfect words to make somebody shut up. But what puzzled him the most was that he didn't know the answer to her question. Yes, he had been cruel, but the way she had stared at him made it so disturbing that he didn't know the proper words to describe it himself.
Instead, he replied with a controversial, "No..maybe." I don't know.
She didn't have anything else to say to him after that, and quickly walked in the direction of the girl, well aware that his eyes were following her. But everything seemed like it was in some sort of a haze, as he couldn't seem to identify the blurs that surrounded him - only that single memory. Painfully detailed as well, especially the way her eyes had gleamed with such contempt and disgust, reeking of something foul and corpse-like.
It was unlike anything he had ever seen in those underground facilities. Sure, his victims would scream, and scream, just begging him to kill them, and spill whatever it was he needed from them. But that single moment of bipolarity and conflicting emotions seconds after looking so composed, then traumatizing the next and suddenly desperate enough to recklessly injure herself after withstanding so much anguish was all to get away from..what?
For once in his life, Ibiki found himself not want to continue his line of work any longer, even if it was for the safety of Konoha.
--
"How is she, Ibiki?" The Hokage questioned, his right hand containing a wooden pipe, as usual. Ibiki skillfully maintained an stern face.
"Mild concussion, no infected wounds, healing muscle tissues." Pause. "There's no damaging after effects of the new drug, either. The only worse injury she'll have is some scarring." But then again, he wasn't accounting for that psychological part of her. And as he thought more and more into it, there was a thin barrier between her sanity, and losing herself into whatever parallels that existed after that. But he couldn't be entirely sure if she was suicidal, because the girl only lost control for that one moment, and for shinobi, it wasn't completely uncommon. The only thing that separated her from them, of course, was that she was still alive.
Sarutobi Sadaime exhaled slowly, creating rings of smoke to rise into the air. "I see. Has she said anything?"
About the interrogation? No, not really. But Morino Ibiki was determined not to show his frustration.
"No, not even through the time duration underground. She's a capable shinobi to be able to hide information this long. The man twice her age would have at least said something after being in constant interrogation for a week." He stated in a drawl. "It's either that, or she really doesn't know anything about Konoha. At this rate though, she might pretend she does just to end the torture, or continue to live. You can never be sure." Pause. "The only thing we do know is that she is an assassin - or former apprentice of Zabuza. But I don't understand why a Kiri shinobi would be in Konoha, because majority of them are still looking for new clients, especially after Gato's departure."
More smoke filled the air.
"I doubt Kirigakure will plan to attack Konoha anytime soon." The Hokage declared slowly, deep in thought, "Although it's strange that they have been unusually quiet throughout the months."
"It could be possible that there's a new leader," Ibiki replied, "She hasn't said anything of who she's working under though."
"Yes, well.." The raspy voice sighed quietly, "It's unfortunate."
Unfortunate? Ibiki echoed in the back of his mind, while trying to understand what the Hokage was saying. Was he talking about the girl, and how unfortunate it was that she still hadn't said anything of use yet? Or maybe it was unfortunate that she, at such a young age, needed to be under such violent methods?
He could still remember that smile on her chapped lips as she chose which drug she wanted in her body next, like it was some kind of treasured candy. It wasn't right, he thought to himself, she was supposed to be smiling over a harmless joke, not this.
So maybe it was unfortunate that she was able to produce such malevolent eyes, that not even someone like him, would be able to produce. Or perhaps it was just unfortunate for him, to be able to do such unspeakable, disgusting things, yet be praised for his actions? Every single restrained gasp, choke, and that brief glimpse of fear in her normally stoic, languid eyes.. he was the cause, yet - they were expecting more, because it wasn't enough. They wanted her to scream louder, to bleed until there was no blood left, and say the right words through clenched teeth..
And when she would speak them, he knew that he would not be able to distinguish truth from lies. After all, this was not the first time he had pushed someone so far that they would crumble, and say the things he wanted them to say, just so they could die peacefully.
He was anything but honorable. Loyal, perhaps, but certainly not worthy of praise. There was nothing to be justified in whatever his actions were in the past, and even now, the present. There was nothing right about it, but he was the one who always did it. Who had to do it.
"Ibiki." Oh, right. He was still with the Hokage. "Where is she now?" He averted his gaze slightly.
"She's back." He grudgingly muttered. Back, in that underground facility where there was no light, no comfort. Where he could commit murder and torture, and there would be no questions asked. "Is that all you need to know, Hokage-sama?"
"Yes, thank you Ibiki. You're dismissed."
Everything was a blur once more, as he felt his legs move on their own, and his hand twist the doorknob without his doing.
Ah yes, Morino Ibiki wasn't going to be able to sleep for weeks.
--
Were they gone? Did they stop?
Arisa listened intently to her consciousness. But there was nothing. No screaming, no unnecessary noises of falling bodies - just complete and utter silence. She took deep breaths, uncertainty filling her body, as she wondered what to make of it. There was something different, something had changed..
She took another deep breath of air, before slowly allowing her two hands to touch one another, hesitation written all over her face. One, two, three.
As predicted, the skin around her wrist had been rubbed raw, and most likely a vibrant rosy color. But she quickly took note of how they dry they were, and more importantly how they no longer covered by that irksome, thick texture of another's dried blood. It had been finally cleaned off of her flesh, and Arisa realized that was why the screaming had halted. Relief flooded her mind, as a sigh escaped her mouth. Alas, she felt utterly pathetic, vulnerable even, but at least it was just her now, even if being her came with large headaches.
Her eyelids fluttered close, though there really was no difference in sight. She could feel her chapped lips quirk upwards into a smile, and her back lean against the uncomfortable wall. Upon contact it had initiated a new level of 'headaches', as she felt the unmistakable bump on the back of her skull. Arisa had been expecting this though, and she knew exactly what that bump was. Bandages. Arisa deducted that in her unconscious state, Ibiki had taken her to the hospital, or maybe called a medic-nin to tend to her.
Yes, it was indeed a strange feeling of not really knowing what was happening to her body. Arisa had been beyond surprised waking up to find bandages wrapped around her arms and legs, as well as her head. But still, she couldn't help but feel grateful to whoever it was that cleaned her, given her a new change of clothes, as well as filling her stomach. It was unfortunate that they would never know what sort of an impact they had made, especially by a simple change of clothes. Arisa could feel herself prefer theirs better, because unlike hers, their fabrics held an aroma of cleanliness, allowing her to cherish the feeling it's loose, comfortable fit on her skin. She vaguely wondered how long it would last, before they were tainted red. She exhaled slowly.
What was it like, to be untainted?
The thoughts were immediately pushed away, after she realized that would always remain unanswered. Instead, she found herself wishing Ibiki had left behind a candle or two.
I had hoped I would be recovering in the hospital. Arisa thought, musing to herself how nice the sunlight would've been on her skin. It would've been worth the trouble of being strapped down on the bed like some lunatic. Plus, she could escape from there with the slightest bit of effort..
But of course, it was merely a dream, too good to be true. Ibiki was not a man who let things slip by him.
So instead of being in a nice, comfortable bed with pillows, Arisa remained stuck in her usual sitting position, contemplating all the ways to make up to her momentary slip of weakness and..insanity? No, not insanity, just a minor flaw in her usual stoic composure. (That was happening too often for comfort nowadays.) But it wasn't like it really mattered, because she was now clean, well fed, and basically in the best condition she had been in ever since she gotten into this hellhole. Though words couldn't accurately describe how she felt, the ones closest to it would be like, 'a new form of adrenaline rush.' Arisa truly felt as if she were invincible; untouchable. She no longer cared what type of drug they injected her with, nor did she care about the new forms of torture they wanted to inflict on her, because after remembering past experiences that she'd rather not, nothing seemed so bad anymore.
Hell, Arisa couldn't wait to embrace those drugs and knives with such an optimistic attitude, they'd think she'd gone crazy. When really, she wasn't. Quite far from it, actually, because she, Arisa Oshiro, was completely and utterly sane. And for the sake of her life, she'd continue to be that way.
Another smile crossed her lips, as she waited. She couldn't recall the last time she had felt this excited to see someone. In fact, she could hardly wait to see the first person (mainly Ibiki) to walk through those steel doors of hers, so she could give them a smile, and just continue smiling until they became so uncomfortable, they would feel the need to snap at her. Then she would take that precious opportunity to cut through these ropes and knock them..
No, Arisa decided, she wasn't going to knock them out. She was going to snap their stupid Konoha necks, steal their god damned keys, along with any weapons they possessed and finally, their appearance. She could feel her smile grow even wider, relishing the way the Third's expression would look like, once they figured out that she had freely walked out of their prison. It gave her some sort of sadistic glee just thinking about it, because in a way, it would serve as a 'fuck you' gesture to them all.
Then after I escape, I'll kill this fucking Masashi guy.
Then with her mission completed, and perfect attendance ruined, Arisa would routinely go back to Tetsuo, demanding him not to pay her twice the money, but fucking triple. The odds were in her favor, because Tetsuo would realize that if he didn't give her the money she wanted, Arisa would personally dismember his head.
Tap, tap, tap.
The smile on her face was cleanly wiped off, as anticipation filled her body. But after seconds past, she faltered, realizing that the quiet footsteps were not that of Morino Ibiki. They didn't have a, 'I don't care if you know I'm coming,' kind of attitude.
Arisa wondered who it was. The Hokage?
No, most certainly not. But what other possibilities were left? It wasn't like she knew anyone who cared about her well being...
A loud creak echoed throughout the cold cell, as she heard the unmistakable sound of keys turning, and a door being pushed open. Almost immediately, she noticed the flicker of a soft light cutting through the abyss, quickly clashing with the haunting atmosphere of the cell. It stung her sensitive eyes slightly, and she had to squint to see through it all. But upon realizing who it was, they quickly widened in concealed shock.
"Hatake Kakashi..?" She addressed him slowly, thoughts of giving a slow and painful death disappearing. In replacement, came waves of confusion, as she stared unblinkingly at the shinobi. He seemed relatively the same from the last time she had seen him. Spiky, unruly hair, a slanted hitai-ate slapped over one eye, and the standard Jounin attire.
He smiled lazily at her.
Or what looked like a smile, anyway.
She inspected him further, this time with the critical eyes of a shinobi. He was hunched over, at a subtle angle that didn't seem comfortable at all, and relatively stiff. A result of recovering wounds, she thought with a satisfied feeling. But still considered a threat.
All in all, she concluded that it actually was him. But it only left her with more questions. Why was he here? Was Ibiki that relentless?
Then, as if he were reading her mind, the Jounin locked the door behind him securely, before saying, "I came here myself, not for Ibiki."
Arisa shifted against her restraints, not at all comforted by the statement.
"Not Konoha's either?" She warily asked, idly watching as the shinobi placed the lantern into the wall's cracks. He turned to face shortly after, a simple response escaping his masked lips.
"No."
Her frown deepened, but she didn't care enough to spare him a dirty look. It was just a lie, and she had been lied to many times before.
But at the same time.. he looked like he was telling the truth.
"Then why are you here, copy-nin?" She queried. Kakashi simply shrugged, miraculously able to maintain a laid-back persona despite his wounds. But his actions told her much more than that. Arisa had prominently noticed that he had stripped himself of all weapons, including any types of summoning scrolls. A strange action, considering that he was entering a cell with a potentially dangerous criminal. So either he was arrogant enough to believe that he could defeat her without problems, or that he simply didn't care enough to arm himself. Eyebrows furrowing slightly, she carefully listened for any metallic sound that could signify danger. There was nothing.
"Just wanted to talk, that's all." The Jounin replied pleasantly, choosing to ignore her perplexed expression.
"Nobody ever wants to 'just talk', copy-nin." She murmured coldly, eyes still trying to see past his navy blue mask. But there wasn't the slightest trace of an ulterior motive. Not even in his single, revealed eye. Instead, an abrupt chuckle reached her ears, so unpredicted that she flinched.
"Believe it or not, socialization is common around Konoha." Kakashi stated coolly, not bothering to hide the mocking tone in his voice. In return, Arisa inwardly scoffed, quickly recovering.
"You wanna talk? Alright, fine." She smirked in a non-friendly way. "Talk."
Almost immediately, a deafening silence filled the room. She waited patiently.
"..Nice weather we're having today, huh?" The meager attempt at a conversation forced a grim smile to her lips. Clearly, the Jounin came here on instinct.
"I can't exactly tell, now can I?" He grimaced. "I suppose I'll have to start the conversation."
Arisa never thought she was going to have a conversation with the very one who killed Haku and Zabuza. But then again, she also thought she'd never see a sharingan in her lifetime. So if she was going to have to talk with the copy-nin, she might as well get some information out of it.
"Tell me how it is you possess the sharingan, when you're not of the Uchiha bloodline?" She nearly slapped her forehead, once she realized that she had spoken her thoughts out loud. It wasn't like her to be that direct, unless it was the right situation. But the harm was already done. "..It's very nice, by the way."
Once again, she would have slapped herself if she was able to. It was ironic how she was the one who made fun of him for talking about the weather. But to her surprise, the silver-haired Jounin merely chuckled once more, not at all offended by her demanding question.
"Why so curious?"
She quickly redeemed herself. "Curiosity is to be expected. It's not everyday you come face to face with a sharingan user."
"That's because not many have it." The copy-nin stated, in a rhetorical manner. There was a bitter edge to his voice that hadn't been there before. Curious, Arisa raised an eyebrow.
"You never answered my question."
He didn't look at her, suddenly fascinated in the yellow glow of the lantern.
Finally, he responded, "A friend." He still refused to look at her, "You could say it was a 'farewell' gift."
"I wish someone would give me a farewell gift like that." She mumbled, absentmindedly, before registering what she had just said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that..It's clear that whoever it was, was very important to you."
That was a bunch of bullshit, but the copy-nin didn't seem to notice. Arisa happily praised herself on being able to lie persuasively, along with making it seem genuine and passionate. Her true motive was to keep Kakashi talking, and giving her answers. That, and also because she would never admit she liked talking to him. But who could really blame her? He was a million times better than Ibiki, and she was temporarily content having some sort of company in the cell.
"Don't worry about it."
She nodded, and pretended to smile, something that was a bit difficult to do.
"Look, I know I shouldn't be making requests.." But you do owe me a favor, you asshole. "But do you think I can see it? Please?"
Suddenly, his attention snapped back to her, his single eye holding the slightest trace of amusement. Her smile wavered a bit.
"I see no harm in it." He replied good-naturedly, before reaching for his hitai-ate. "It's a bit strange, though. People would normally avoid seeing the sharingan."
Arisa laughed, although her voice held no humor. She wasn't exactly normal, now was she?
"I guess--" Her voice was quickly interrupted by a barely audible gasp, eyes straining in the light to focus on the crimson orb. It was beautiful, despite it's deadly color and cruel abilities. She had never wanted it so bad, yet there was the unmistakable sliver of fear inside of her heart. It was telling her to back away, and that the sharingan was evil - but curiosity and longing quickly dulled it's voice, as raw desire took over, along with a vicious hunger for power and control.
What is it like, seeing through the eyes of an Uchiha?
It's demonic appearance latched onto her heart, violently tugging her.
But she knew that she needed to calm down. The Jounin was starting to look curious.
"I don't see why you keep it covered up." She spoke quietly, arching her head to get a better glimpse of it. "The sharingan..you're not ashamed of it, right?"
How could you be ashamed of something like that?
Kakashi's one eye drifted up to look at the ceiling, while the borrowed one kept it's unwavering, penetrating stare on her. But despite that, the Jounin still looked incredibly sad, emotions of guilt and regret filtering through his face. She couldn't help but wonder why. He didn't seem like the type to really give a damn about anything.
"No, it's nothing like that." He replied, exhaling a breath she hadn't noticed he'd been holding. "It's because the sharingan puts a fair amount of stress on the body if you're not an Uchiha."
Arisa absorbed the newly gained information like a sponge, careful to store it somewhere for further use. Maybe someday, she would decide to avenge Haku and Zabuza, and it would be a shame to waste such blood.
"You seem quite curious about their bloodline." It was a statement, not a question. Not to mention, that look in his eyes. He probably thought she infiltrated Konoha to capture the boy - Uchiha Sasuke. She didn't blame him though, it all linked together rather nicely. "How old are you exactly, Kaori?"
She gave him a wry smile. He did come to interrogate her, after all. She didn't expect anything less.
But I must say, this method is much more preferable than Ibiki's. It's seems relatively fair to exchange information. Plus, she wasn't obligated to tell the truth. But since age wasn't something that seemed important to her, Arisa decided that she did owe him at least one answer.
"Fifteen." She responded dully, watching as he gave her that half smile, before..
She frowned. What the hell was that look for?
It was the strangest thing, to be able to know what someone was thinking by the mere sight of their eyes. But sure enough, it was that look. The kind of facial expression that didn't quite resemble that of disgust, anger, or deceiving intentions. No, it was different; a type of penetrating stare that was a mixture between sympathy..and what, regret? Sadness? Arisa's bound hands clenched into fists from behind her; it was a sign of frustration as she tried to pinpoint what exact emotions were radiating off the shinobi.
Maybe it was empathy?
Once again, waves of confusion swarmed her mind, as she continued to stare unblinkingly at the copy-nin. The thought of him actually caring for her well being, or feeling sorry for her..was well, preposterous; so unthinkable that she could have started breaking down in hysterical laughter right there. But instead, she let the feeling of shame encase her, briefly mulling over what her existence had come down to. Months before, she seemed blissfully content (as much as a killer could be, anyway). But now, she felt like an idiot, locked inside of a cell, and hallucinating that the very man who had put her in it actually cared for her.
It was almost pitiful. But dammit, why did he still have that stupid expression on his face?
The rational part of her blamed it on the dim lighting, only to be proven wrong when she saw his muscles twitch behind his mask, clearly forming into a sad smile. Arisa detested it, feeling her mouth threaten to spill profanity into the open, and scream at him to leave her be.
"Fifteen, huh?" Her eyes narrowed. Didn't she just say that? "You're almost ready to be recruited into ANBU." Kakashi sighed quietly, watching as she blatantly scowled at him. The fact that he brought up Konoha's best assassins made her even angrier. There really was no limit to how much she hated them; from their masks, to their overall cocky personality, and to the respect that was literally thrust down on them. Arisa would not tolerate being compared to them. In her mind, she had clearly drawn the line from what they were, and to what she was. Clearly, they were different, because she was not like them.
Yes, Arisa had been called a lot of things in the past. Those being, 'assassin', 'murderer', and basically nothing beyond someone who killed for money. She never contradicted herself with those titles. All it came down to was that she was someone who killed for her own personal gain. That was it.
But ANBU were different. The fuckers did the same thing she did, but it was acceptable, because they did it in the name of Konoha. Right? That alone, should have made up for everything. As long as it was for the people, then they could go kill whoever the hell they wanted, and still become widely respected. 'Justified' wasn't the correct term either, because it was pushed so far that their actions were praised. How was that even possible? But it wasn't enough yet. No - to her disgust, ANBU held an illusion that they were higher than her, believing in their own filthy lies that they were no where near her shameless level. The statement was so hypocritical. The truth was that they were, in fact, lower than her; simply because at least she had the nerve to acknowledge that she killed without any kind of adequate reason.
Years ago, that same reason could have been viewed as a survival method, but she had long ditched that. Now she clung to it because, yes, it was the only thing she really knew how to do, and also because she had become too accustomed to it to really try and break free. (She worked too fucking hard for this - there was no way in hell she would let it go so easily.)
Arisa saw no reason to hide it.
They hid behind their beloved Hokage, following every command with unfaltering steps. Just like the cowards they were.
It seemed only natural that Arisa would hate them. Just like any criminal. But she personally wanted each of them to die painfully, their animalistic masks shredded into minuscule pieces, and bodies mutilated.
"But you're set, I can tell. It would have been a breeze." Kakashi had been watching her very carefully the entire time. She briefly wondered why the hell he was still here. Why, why, why.
"I remember when I was your age." He continued lightly. "We're a bit alike, I suppose."
She scoffed.
"We are nothing alike." Arisa snapped, feeling nostalgic. Haku had said the exact same thing. But compared to that kid - she was nothing.
"Maybe you don't see it, but I do." There was that bitter edge to his voice again. "We're the kind of people who experience things that others will never have to endure their whole lives." Carefully, the copy-nin slid down from the wall he was leaning on, becoming level with her on the grimy floor. "We're the kind of people who get thrust head first into things. Situations where there's not enough time to think, never mind make the right choices."
"There is never enough time." Arisa replied coldly, "There are no right choices either."
He stared at her unblinkingly for that moment. Like he was trying to decipher the meaning behind her words.
"I graduated the academy early." He continued on, as if she hadn't said anything. "I was the usual type of wannabe shinobi - a kid trying to pretend he was a grown up. You've probably seen them before; the skilled - slightly above average kind of kids who gave a bit of attitude and are the most arrogant things you've ever seen. That exactly who I was - everyone thought they knew everything at the age, huh?" Arisa frowned. When she was younger, she knew nothing besides needing to fill her stomach and how to do it. "I advanced quickly, as expected from those who looked down on me." The Jounin continued, "But even then, being ready than anyone twice my age could've been, being recruited into ANBU was something I had completely overlooked."
He let out a cold chuckle, as if he was laughing at his own stupidity. There was no humor in it. "It was only then I realized that no matter how hard you trained, or how much talent you possess, you can never be fully prepared to just kill somebody." His indolent eyes were intently on her, watching as she shook her head in contradiction.
"You're wrong, copy-nin." She argued, "There's so many techniques, so many weapons.. Of course you will have some sort of preparation."
He looked intrigued by her perspective.
"True, physically you can prepare to kill someone." He corresponded. "But what about being mentally prepared? There is no way you can possibly experience that feeling of murdering someone simply by learning through books, or by someone describing it to you." Was he pitying her? "This is what makes your first experience..stick with you. No matter the countless others you've killed, the very first person will always be remembered."
Arisa suddenly felt angry, like she had just been cheated out of something important. Kind of how one would feel once they've realized they could have won a ton of cash, only to forget to claim it.
She had already killed countless of times, what was the point in telling her now? It certainly would not help her. The damage had already been done, and it was sure as hell, irreversible. Couldn't he see that? Her eyes.. blue, angry, cold..surely he could tell. They were tainted, like her hands, and her limbs, and her entire body.. The strain, the pulled muscles, the scars.. The resentment that was pouring off her body.
First killing experience. What a laugh. He made it seem like one person being killed, not...multiple people being slaughtered. Arisa knew for a fact that what he described wasn't what she had gone through. No..her first experience was so fucked up that it couldn't be remembered - and so painful it needed to be forgotten. Yet there was always a tingle in her hands, serving as a reminder that it would never be truly forgotten. The taste of fear forever remained in her blood, as well as the brain-wracking emotions that was enough for her to succumb to the earth, and snap her own neck.
There was no gradual process. Not like whatever he was referring to - because killing could never be 'eased' into. It was simply done..
And once it happened, it just kept coming. Sloppy attacks from dull blades, but efficient because it got the job done, even if you needed a couple more chops to truly decapitate the enemy..
There were many. All of which were scattered, everywhere..like pieces of meat and trash, not degraded human bodies.. It didn't matter what you were before - in that moment, every body looked so cheap, and so worthless.
Confrontation was the worse of them all. Silent assassination was as clean as it got, but when it was time to face such a mass crowd, in such little time, where everything and everyone was a threat..and you could smell that putrid, foul..
She shuddered, remembering that she had tasted their fear and anticipation, alongside hers.
As fast as the thought had come, Arisa felt her hands begin to tremble, and her head throb. Her nails instantly dug into the palm of her hands, and she exhausted herself, trying to bury the past as quickly as she could, knowing that it would only be dug up later. Until then though, her brain would suppress it, and she would try to never dig it up again.
"Do you know how long people generally stay in ANBU for?"
His voice shook her, making her focus on his eyes once more. She felt hints of relief as she did this, feeling glad that she wasn't alone.
"I'm not a Konoha shinobi, remember?" If he detected any trace of uneasiness, he sure didn't give a damn.
"Two, sometimes three years." Kakashi continued instead, "Even then though, they're not the same as they were before. I'm going to assume you know what ANBU do."
The question seemed rhetorical, so Arisa smiled eerily. If he knew her well, and they really were 'similar to another', he would know that they were the reason she became a murderer. But of course, he didn't. Anybody who did, were dead.
"Two continuous years of that, is enough for the average ANBU." The copy-nin seemed far away now. Like he wasn't actually here anymore. "You don't get breaks, unless you've been hospitalized. But even that is limited, and as soon as you've been discharged, you get another. Everyday, it seems like you're killing another person, wrecking another life, and it's not that far from the truth. In fact, you're probably killing more than five people a day. That, in and out of itself, is enough to tear somebody apart. Perhaps not right away though, because after your first kill in ANBU, you generally get over it fast. But only because there's another mission with your name on it, and another person to kill. There's really not enough time to adjust to your conscience, or understand what you've done, so you feel completely numb. Or maybe it's the opposite, and you do understand what you've done, the amount of lives you've taken away, but you just don't care. You don't care on what's happening to you, how much you're being used, and how much you've changed. It just doesn't..click."
He exhaled slowly, taking the time to briefly regather his thoughts.
"So instead of talking to someone, you drown yourself in alcohol. To a point where you just collapse on the floor in a heap of your own vomit, or the bartender stops giving you drinks in fear that you're going to succumb to alcohol poisoning. Even then though, you don't care if they're trying to help you, and drunk or not, you'll threaten them, and even try to attack them. There's a sense of indifference to consequence, because you know that the casualties will be excused. Plus, there's not a lot of people who are willing to restrain a member of ANBU, shinobi or not.
"There's this feeling of negative feelings that always surrounds you - that need to blame everything. Everybody is at fault. Friends, family, the village.. it doesn't matter. You don't care what people try to say, and eventually, people give up on you. The Hokage stops trying to give you holidays, and just lets you continue your work. It's..It's a never ending cycle of assassinations, and that's the only thing in your life - the only thing you look forward to. A life has no value; it's about as worthless as the pile of cash you get.
"Unconsciously though..you're trying to make yourself believe that the people you kill deserve to die. It's never your fault, so who's the blame? The people who train you to kill, that's who, as well as the people who tell you to kill. You're just a tool. People use you, so you can't help it if they use you to kill someone you don't want to kill. It's just the way it goes..and it's the only way you can try and live with yourself."
There was a pained look in his eyes, and Arisa could only watch, intrigued. Her face was distorted into a disturbed expression. His words.. They sounded so familiar.
Like I've said them myself?
"In the end, you're just trying to deny that it's your own fault. You're abusing your power, because you're no longer using it to protect and survive. You're using your skills, and the power you possess in being a shinobi, to murder people just because your ordered to. In exchange for some cold-earned cash. Is that all there is to a life? A bunch of money?"
Kakashi stared, eyes downcast, to the floor.
"The moment you realize the truth, you get out. No more repetitive killing. You quit ANBU, despite the fact that the moment you do, your body is no longer numbing itself. The guilt is far beyond anything that could ever be physically inflicted on your body. That is the only time you understand why ANBU is so different from the rest of the ranks. In being a Jounin, Chuunin, or Genin, you're merely killing because you need to defend yourself. Assassination missions are rarely assigned, because people know you won't be able to stand it."
Then, he looked up and focused on her. Like he was waiting for her to say something.
She remained quiet.
"My first assassination mission," He said, continuing after a long silence, "was a 'piece of cake'. There really wasn't anything to worry about, because the victims weren't even ninja. It was only a business affair." The copy-nin looked grim. "I traveled with my two other teammates. As expected, they were a bit nervous, but it didn't matter, because the Hokage said we were ready, and the last thing we all wanted was for him to think any less of us.
"Anyway, the mission turned out to be a young couple who were suddenly earning a fair bit of money through trading and whatnot. The husband was constantly traveling, and the wife stayed at home. It wasn't like they were doing anything wrong, we all knew that their profits were strictly legal. But our client didn't like it, seeing it as a potential threat in the future. He wanted them, along with their small business, destroyed and done for. So we waited outside their house. Just until the sun was down and their lights were off."
Kakashi was no longer looking at her, and his voice had gotten quieter. Like he was ashamed.
"I will never forget how I felt when we entered their home. It was like all my senses were on fire, especially since I knew that the mission was going to be a success. We were going to be the most efficient, newly made ANBU team if we came back soon enough - and it was only sheer luck that the husband was home that day.
"I remember killing them with a kunai, straight to the throat like one would do to a common practice target. There wasn't enough time for them to react, so I suppose they died in no excruciating pain. After that, I left the room, leaving my teammates to look for traces of Konoha involvement. I should have helped, because the slightest trace of evidence of us killing them would have dire consequences. But I couldn't..I felt nauseous in comparison to their jittery faces.
"Instead, I roamed their house. It wasn't that big, but there were a couple other rooms. I went into every single one of them, and observed all the photographs. That was when I realized that.." He struggled for a moment, "..That there was a little girl in one of their photos. They had a kid."
Arisa remained motionless, even when he gave her a meaningful look.
"She was probably around the age of six." Wasn't that around the time I.. Arisa grew confused. Was there a reason he was telling her this? Did she really look like some kind of therapist? "I remember how fast I turned, a kunai gripped in hand when I heard something behind me. Especially how terrified I had become, realizing that it wasn't some deadly opponent ready to kill me, but that little girl."
Why does this sound so familiar?
Her eyes widened. No..
"I should have hid, or I should have thrown that kunai and let it move it's natural course. It wouldn't of been hard, I've trained countless times, repeating that motion.. In fact, I was going to, but then I saw that face. Those big blue eyes, staring up at me, confused and scared."
Her dark eyes stared up at the mask. It had a cold, expressionless surface, resembling that of an animal. Merely a facade to conceal murderous intentions.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the dim glint of a blade. It was creeping closer and closer to her small figure, but she did nothing. Instead her mind, a child's mind at that, was trying to understand. What was happening? Why did this person kill her parents? She wanted to ask the stranger just that, but couldn't seem to open her mouth. There was so little time left, the blade was close..
It couldn't be..
The copy-nin stared her dead in the eye, looking distressed in his affliction.
"Your name isn't Kaori." He said. "It's Oshiro Arisa."
