My fingers eased their way along my ankle under the shackle. The metal was starting to leave sores. Prodding them probably didn't help, but it gave me something to do.
I wasn't sure how long I'd been down there, but I guessed from the number of what they called "meals" they'd given us that it had been about twelve days. The other two slaves had been sold and were replaced. Twice. I stopped asking their names. The boy was still alive, though they'd denied him his last few meals. I would offer him half of whatever they gave me, but he always refused.
"I don't want to delay my death," he would say.
It made sense. Why starve to death more slowly than was necessary? I offered anyway. It felt wrong not to.
He told me he wanted it. To die, that is. The incident between him and his master was by design. After three failed suicide attempts, he had the idea to pummel the probably-deserving-man with a plank of wood. Death wish granted.
He remained stoic throughout, his soft gaze fixed on the ground. He spent most of the day semi-conscious. Dark brown hair hung in his face as his head lolled against the support beam.
The next day, in his weakened state, he caught ill. The day after, they came for him. Two mountains of men stood over him, nudging him with their boots. In a sudden moment of clarity, his face contorted as he sobbed and shook his head. But he didn't say anything as they hauled him away. Whether he was too weak or too stubborn, I didn't know. And then he was gone.
...
It was day fourteen by my count, and the food had stopped coming. Not that I wasn't used to being hungry by now. But I had hoped, in vain, that they would allow me the small comfort of dying on a full stomach. At least then I'd be physically able to hold my head high when I finally met Lady Death. With dignity. To die as a slave, naked and chained to a pole. With dignity? I sighed.
"Well aren't you a site for sore eyes…"
I didn't have to look to know the owner of the voice that hasn't yet ceased to haunt my dreams, but I did anyway. Hazel eyes, X-shaped scar. He loomed over me, sitting cross-legged on one of the tattered rugs. He looked bored. The feeling was mutual.
"Why are you here?" I rasped.
He took a drag on his cigarette. The smoke drifted lazily through the air as he sent a devious glare at my cell-mate. The man dropped his head immediately, and Hazel Eyes grinned.
I smacked his knee with about the same force as a soft breeze, but I got his attention.
"What's wrong, Shou, do you not enjoy my company?" He knew my alias? How much else did he know? How long had he been following me?
"As much as I would enjoy the company of any other fucking psychopath." The other slaves' attention was on me now. Oddly, I enjoyed the small semblance of freedom, talking to Hazel Eyes as I did. It almost made me feel human again.
He didn't seem to find it amusing. His gaze hardened. "You ought to mind your manners, slave."
"Why? What are you going to do? Kill me?" I coughed out a laugh. "Or did you just come to watch me die?"
"Stop being so morose." He took another drag on his cigarette. "You're not going to die."
"No?"
"Not if I have anything to do about it."
"You're a terrible assassin."
"I don't want you dead, precious. Not yet." He flashed that devious grin again. Whatever witty retort I had caught in my throat. He continued, "I may require your assistance."
My jaw went slack and I gaped at him. "You? Me? What the fuck am I-"
His hand smacked against my mouth and stifled my rant. "Quiet," said he. "As you may have figured out by now, our little Danzou wasn't working on his own."
"-oo e-ane."
He pulled his hand away. "Come again?"
"Do explain."
His eyes narrowed. "You don't honestly believe Danzou's pathetic group of patsies would have the finesse to do something as beautifully intricate as assassinating the Hokage, do you?"
My mind was swimming. If Danzou had already taken over, what about "My students?"
"What?"
"Are they all right?"
He sneered. "This isn't the time for you to pretend to care about those snot-nosed little fucks, and-"
"Well I do care about those snot-nosed little fucks. And if you want me to go along with your batshit plan, you'll tell me. Please."
He grimaced. "I don't know where they are. A few jounin and other shinobi escaped shortly after Danzou took the throne, your 'students' being among them. Danzou is having his patsies hunt them down, but he'll never find them."
"You seem very sure."
"Well, I'm the president of that club, and, as you can see, I've been busy with other things." He snubbed his cigarette out on the rug and glanced toward gap in the sheets. "Back to business, cupcake. He'll be here soon."
"Who?"
"My lead."
"Lead?"
He nodded. "The man behind the man. He's a part of an exclusive organization. Probably their leader, but it's hard to tell with this lot. I haven't been able to get close to him. That's where you come in." He grinned again as his eyes drifted across my exposed body.
That cold dread seeped into me. And for a second, death seemed better. "How are you going to convince anyone to buy me?" I tugged at the red fabric on my arm.
"Leave it to me." He ruffled my hair. "And, Shou, while your arse is being worked over, don't forget our deal. I'll keep in touch." He disappeared through the wall of multi-colored sheets.
...
It wasn't long before I could hear his voice once again grating my nerves. I wanted to kill him. Or torture him. Or make a slave of his pompous ass. Maybe, if I survived this fresh hell he was putting me through.
He strolled into my cell, this time with the slave trader and another man. Hazel Eyes' lead? Whoever he was, he appeared odd, but I imagined anyone who bought another human being couldn't be an ordinary, upstanding citizen. He was dressed in clothing all black and slightly baggy which covered even his hands and neck. An orange mask adorned his face. The color swirled around one small hole over his right eye.
Swirls knelt next to me and immediately started prodding every inch of my skin with his gloved hands. I was well practiced in suppressing my initial urges to pull away or strike. So I lay there, quiet and still and submissive, trying to block it out.
Swirls grabbed my arm and ran his thumb along the red cloth. "What did he do?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious.
"I don't ask for details," the trader said dismissively.
"He tackled me," Hazel Eyes interrupted. The trader glanced at him warily, but he didn't say anything. "He was still new at the time."
"How has he been since?" Swirls asked.
Hazel smiled at me and took a drag of a new cigarette. "Don't worry. I fixed him."
...
I was sprawled out on the table again, freshly washed and fed, one of the few benefits of this unfortunate situation. Hazel left me to my fate as soon as he was sure he had sealed it. Swirls, who the trader had called "Tobi", continued with a more thorough examination. But it wasn't until his bare, wet fingers eased their way into me did my purpose become very clear.
"I think the boss will like him." So Tobi wasn't my master? I tried not to let my imagination run wild with "worst case scenarios". I tried not to think about Haru's hollow eyes and the sound of bedsprings and moans, but Osamu's image burned indelibly in my mind.
Tobi finally removed his fingers with a wet 'pop'. The trader handed me a clean set of clothes and told me to change while he and Tobi discussed my price. Tobi got a good deal. Potentially dangerous or problematic slaves are sold at a discount, like damaged merchandise.
The trader handed Tobi a scroll, and we left. Another slave greeted Tobi just outside. His clothes were similar to mine, and I guessed that Tobi just bought him as well. We walked in silence, keeping a step behind Tobi, who seemed blissfully indifferent to our presence. It was a small relief, and I took the time to enjoy the quiet walk before the inevitable cage.
...
We arrived in Amegakure later the next morning. We walked all through the night, and I was about asleep on my feet when we finally reached our destination. Tobi led us to the top floor of the tallest tower in the cold metal city. The décor was simple and modern, much less ostentatious than the bizarre buildings and webs of power lines just outside. Like Osamu's desolate chambers, the rooms lacked any semblance of warmth. There were hardly any decorations at all, let alone family photographs or memorabilia. Though, much to my relief, I had yet to find bawdy paintings of torture or any other indication that my new master was a violent sadist.
Tobi led us into a spacious bathroom. I expected the "this is my bathroom; stay out of it" speech. What I got was a basket full of lotions and soaps. He pulled a bottle out and showed it to the other slave. "I want you to prepare him." He nodded toward me, and then pointed at my crotch. "He needs to be hairless. Read the directions and don't leave it on for too long."
The other slave took the bottle and looked at me tentatively. I wasn't sure why he was nervous. After all, he wasn't the one having a stranger rub chemicals on his penis.
"After that, I want both of you showered," Tobi continued. "I'll be back in a few hours."
Before Slave 2 could form a sensible thought, I grabbed the bottle from him. "I can do this myself."
"He said he wanted me to do it," he retorted with surprising vehemence, though he was still fidgeting nervously. "It's not like I want to do it. But-"
"How's he going to know?"
"I don't want to get in trouble on the first day. Just … Please?" He held out his hand.
Osamu's tricks sprung to mind. Tobi's odd command probably was a test, and I wouldn't be surprised if he was watching us even now. I reluctantly handed him the bottle. He glanced at me carefully again, needing me to strip, but lacking the courage to ask. I dropped my clothes before he had to, and he seemed grateful.
Sitting on the floor, I leaned back against the tile wall near the shower. If my dick started burning, I wanted to be near a water source. He pulled on a pair of latex gloves from the basket and began to coat my soft, white hair with the creamy lotion. After only a few minutes, it started to sting.
"How long do I have to keep this on?" I shifted awkwardly.
"Um … Just ten minutes." He glanced at the clock, at the bottle, back at the clock. His hands were trembling.
"Are you new to this?"
He nodded. "I had to borrow some money from someone I ... I couldn't pay it off." He drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. "How long have you …" His cheeks flushed.
"I don't know. About half a year, I think." I shifted again and looked at the clock. The lotion was starting to burn.
"Is it … Is it bad?"
He wanted me to tell him that everything would be all right and that he would be free someday. All I had for him was more uncertainty. Or lies. "It depends on your master. Just try to follow orders."
His face drained of any life it had. "I think it's been ten minutes."
I braced myself against the wall and hobbled into the shower. My body tensed for the freezing water, but the unexpected warmth immediately made me relax and lean into the flow longingly. It'd been too long since I could enjoy this. I washed the grime off my aching limbs and torso and listlessly watched my hair spiral around the drain.
...
"Are you okay?"
My head snapped forward and light flooded into consciousness. Had I dozed off? Passed out? My fingers rubbed the impression the tile had made in my forehead. At least I was still standing.
"I'm fine," I said as I turned the knob and stepped out of the shower. The kid handed me a towel and I nodded in thanks. He took his turn in the shower, and I spent the rest of the hour with my head between my knees trying to make sure I didn't pass out again. Hazel Eyes, as much as I hated him, had given me a second chance. I wasn't going to ruin it by letting Tobi think I was too damaged to be a decent slave.
The door began to open, and, before I could stop myself, I was on my hands and knees in a deep bow. The kid, clean and dressed again, followed suit.
"Up," Tobi said, making gestures with his arms impatiently. As soon as I was on my feet, Tobi tossed my towel to the ground and began inspecting the kid's work more thoroughly than he probably needed to. "Good enough," he muttered. He pulled a scroll from his pocket and quickly read it. He grabbed my arm. A knife in his hand glinted in the light.
Don't move.
His grip tightened as I tried to pull away.
I told you not to move. Trust me.
The blade slid along my wrist and he made the hand seals. The next part was inevitable. Pain coursed through me like fire, and then quickly died out. But the black mark was still there like a damned curse taunting me.
Like you would be able to escape even without it.
Tobi repeated the process for the kid, inspecting and branding him. Tobi tucked the scroll away, one of the same I saw in Osamu's study. The sadistic bastard was in another land, but he still managed to keep me … obedient.
He led us to another room in another part of the suit. A bedroom. It was spacious and modern, much like the rest of the building. The only noteworthy differences were the much darker color scheme - the whole room was bathed in black and red - the lone armchair in the middle of the room and the black ropes lying on it.
Tobi grabbed the ropes and instructed me to sit. The soft fabric brushed against my skin. It was such an odd sensation that it was hard to sit still. He took a piece of rope, made a knot, and slid it around my wrists. The rope tightened, and he secured it above my head. He grabbed each of my legs, draped them over the armrests, and secured my ankles to the legs of the chair.
He had me presented like a cheap, wanton whore for whoever wanted to walk into the room. Which could be anyone. Which could be several people. I pulled at the ropes. When they failed to give, I could hear my heart pounding in my ears to the frantic chorus of "escape, escape" running through my head.
"Calm down." Tobi ordered. "Are you not used to being tied up?" he asked, sounding more jovial than he should in such circumstances.
I shook my head.
"You'll get used to it."
I grimaced.
"Last thing." He held up a strip of cloth – black satin – and tied it around my eyes. "It'll be awhile until Pein-sama comes-"
Pain? Did he just refer to my master as pain? You must be hearing things.
"-an hour or so. What's your name again?"
"… Shou, Sir."
Tobi pressed a piece of paper against my chest and pushed a needle through it. The wound was shallow, and I guessed it was a thumbtack. It wasn't comfortable, but it was bearable.
"Um … Stay there." He laughed. I heard the door shut, and I was alone. My head rested against my arm. There wasn't a chance in hell I'd be able to sleep, but I could at least rest a little. And wait. Wait for pain?
Author's note: The Tobi reveal happened 4 weeks ago? Sweet Jashin, I'm out of touch with the Naruto reality...
Thank you all very much! I'm glad you enjoy it, and I'll do my best to get the rest of the story up soon.