A Kyubi at birth. A slave at six. An experiment at ten. A killer at thirteen. A faunus at fifteen. A Chieftain at seventeen. A student at twenty-one. A killer at twenty-one. A Legend at. . .
Pain.
For him, this word was nothing new. Pain and him were like they were brothers -Always with each other. He basked in the presence of pain. It made him realise that he was still alive, still in the shackles of the living world.
How much time had passed since the starting of this torture? Days? Months? Years? He didn't know. Time had no essence here.
Where was here?
He wasn't really sure.
He considered the large room around him. There was a bathroom in the right, with the main door in the front. In the exact centre of the room, he was strapped to the bed with the syringes extracting his blood and pushing some other substances he didn't recognise.
It was a slow process.
A process that ensured maximum pain was bestowed.
But he wasn't the only one who was undergoing the same torture. There were several others. It wasn't to say there were only faunus, there were some humans in the group. There was no discrimination, which was quite amusing in a twisted sense.
For them, there was no mercy. It wasn't unexpected, however. Because they were just lab rats. Disposable at will one can say.
For him, it was a different matter altogether. He wasn't like them. He was a Kyubi. A nearly extinct race with very high regenerative factor and big aura reserves.
His first few nights came into the mind. He begged, cried, screamed and pleaded someone -anyone- to save him.
His plight went unanswered.
It took him months to ignore the sensations. Ignore it like he had done with the hope. Because he knew there was no reason for him to hope. No would save him anyway. He didn't have any parents or a friend.
At the end of day, he was alone in this place. There was no one he could share his pain with nor anyone to talk.
Even his captors didn't speak with him. Sometimes it felt like he was going ma-
He sighed. He really need to stop his inner monologue. He needed to distract himself. His head felt heavy anyway. Perhaps he could get some sleep. . .
But that wasn't an option. He knew the schedule by now. Every ten hours, the machine would finish its job, the large metallic door in front of him would open, and two-three men dressed in white lab coats and masks would come in and perform their job without uttering a single word.
They would start by restraining him first, then forcing a cloth gag in his mouth followed by an injection which would knock him out
What happen during that period was anyone's guess
And then, when he woke up, he would find himself in fresh clothing, lying on a bed with his arms bandaged up to the shoulders.
At first, he would lash out at them.
But now, it was a routine.
Burst of pains would flare, he would wince and then his body would heal it.
His body always did.
His body didn't let him die. His captors didn't let him live. He had honestly tried killing himself several times. But not one method succeeded.
His captors always saved him.
He chuckled at that.
Maybe, one day. . . he mused as his eyelids began to feel heavy. I will get out of here
The Chieftain
Prologue
"Ozpin have you gone insane?!"
"Looking over my reports from the hospital, I am completely sane Glynda," Ozpin answered, rather calmly. Afterall he expected some retaliation.
A hand slammed on his desk. "Then, pray tell, why have you invited them to the Beacon?"
"Who them?" Ozpin quirked an eyebrow. "I have invited only one person."
"Don't bullshit me." Another eyebrow raised at her choice of words. "Why have you done it?"
Ozpin sipped his coffee. "…for peace."
"For peace?!"
"Ye-"
"You do know that Menagerie is the headquarters of the White Fang, right? Then let me ask you why have you offered to host someone of Menagerie's choice in, let me put it eloquently, 'hopes of improving relationship'?"
Ozpin just stood up and walked to the window in his office. The beautiful sight always calmed him. Taking a sip from his mug, he turned to her and said, "…because we need them, Glynda."
"We don't-"
"Yes, we do." Ozpin interrupted sharply. "This isn't the old Menagerie. Things have changed ever since Ghira Belladonna was killed four years ago. We do not even know who succeeded him, but things have changed. The previous most technologically backward continent is now on third place. But that's not worst thing."
"What is then?" Glynda asked.
Ozpin chuckled, feeling amused. Turning to the window, he said, "We don't know."
Glynda frowned. "What do you mean sir?"
"We don't know anything."
"I don't understand."
"We don't know anything about them," he sighed. "Not a single thing, except their technology is much more advanced than before. Even that single information took seven bullheads, all of them were destroyed, which was for naught as when Atlas Military came to take Menagerie's bullhead, all they found was scraps and metal junks. If this isn't enough, then let me tell you another thing. Qrow couldn't enter Menagerie. Do you know the meaning of this Glynda?"
"…no sir."
"They have somehow made a barrier."
"It could be a semblance," Glynda offered.
"Semblance that can cover cities?" Her cheeks flushed red. "No. It has to be a barrier as Qrow encircled Menagerie and still couldn't found a way in. We don't know what's going on inside. They could be making a weapon to destroy anyone who came in their path," Ozpin sighed. "I just don't want to deal with them with her over my head. We need to gather allies."
"What about the White Fang?"
Ozpin quirked an eyebrow. "What about them…?"
"You do know what I mean."
"White Fang stopped committing crimes since two years ago."
"They could be planning something big."
Ozpin glanced at her, "They could be."
"Then why?" Glynda asked.
"For one, it could improve the relationship, which in turn could start trade between Vale and Menagerie," Ozpin said, "two, if push comes to shove, we will have a hostage at least."
"But won't they think the same?"
Ozpin smiled. "That's why I offered to host only one first-year student. And who possibly can take a whole Huntsman Academy by themselves?"
...
It had rained continuously the previous night and morning dawned with a virginal freshness. The area was generally quiet with only the occasional purr of a car driving past. The girl was in the shower when she heard the squeak of the gate. It had to be him, she guessed. He had messaged her earlier to say that he would be there in the morning. By the time the doorbell rang, she had slipped into a towelling robe, with a fluffy towel wrapped around her head. She opened the door to see him holding two months' worth of groceries in large shopping bags. She quickly took a few bags from him to lighten his load.
"Why do you have to bring everything all at once? Can't your guards do this? When will you start relying on others?" she chided him.
"Yes, my guards can do this, but I wanted to do this for you. I already hate the fact that I can't be here as much as I want to, so I don't want to feel additionally guilty about you being in a situation where you don't have something you desperately need." He walked in and placed the shopping bags on the dining table.
"You're always here, chieftain," she teased.
He hugged her immediately. It was easy enough to find a person who was one's strength, but to find a person to whom one could reveal one's vulnerabilities, that was something that happened very rarely.
She had lost her husband and had intentionally kept a distance from her relatives who were only good at making her feel bad about herself because of her medical condition. Though that was not the only reason she had surrendered herself to him long before he demanded her submission, and not once had she asked for anything in return. It was as if her surrender was what truly defined her.
She always knew that they would never have a story of their own; nevertheless, she was reconciled to it. He was aware that a deep-rooted conviction was the only pre-requisite for their love. She made him realize that life would eventually wear people out. But if you could find someone who'd accept you with all your flaws and quirks, then you could be saved.
She was that person for him.
He knew she was in love with him, even though he wasn't. That was clear between them. They weren't friends either. Nor were they in a relationship of any kind. And yet they were together.
"You're free to choose to be with whoever you like, whenever you like. Just let me know, and I'll back off," he had said during their first meeting. Their incredible rapport filled the emotional craters that life creates within people. A connection that didn't need to be defined. All that was needed was a healthy mutual respect for each other's inner wounds and an unconditional affinity for the other.
He had met her during the inspection in hospital. At the time, both were battling deep troughs of depression. As her husband was the former chieftain, she was admitted to the armed forces hospital to be treated for agoraphobia that had culminated in attempted suicide. As they both were broken beings on some level, they clicked almost instantly without having to justify themselves to each other. (1)
"I've made my choice, chieftain, and as you know, I'm a very stubborn girl," she had told him.
While she went into the modular kitchen to sort out the groceries, he entered living room to examine her latest sketch of him. This was a thing between them. She made pencil sketches and he would fill in the colour whenever he visited. He had asked her why she invariably drew him wearing the exact same expression.
"It's not the same expression," she protested. "If you look closely, chieftain, I'm trying to capture your mien each time you talk about her. Every drawing, therefore, has a minute change from the last. But I'm yet to get there."
He called out to her from the living room, "Is this it?"
She nodded, smiling over her shoulder.
"I get the feeling you don't really want to capture that specific expression," he said.
"Getting there . . . arriving ruins all the fun of trying to get there, don't you agree? Perhaps I'm all about seeking the complete in the incomplete," she said with a smile.
Noticing that she was making tea for them, he glanced out through the window and saw that it had started to drizzle. He walked out on to the balcony.
She approached the balcony door and frowned, "I know why you're out there, chieftain. Please come back inside."
"Come here," he coaxed. Last time it took her almost two minutes to step out, and she alone knew the Herculean effort it had been and the toll it had taken.
"If you don't confront your fears, how will they ever go away? I'm still waiting for my tea," he smiled and gestured to her invitingly to step out and admire the view from her balcony.
She took a deep breath. If one thing she had learn over the years then it was that he was more stubborn than her. Once he decided something, nothing or no one could change his mind.
Her hands trembled as she carried out the tea tray, making the teacups rattle. By the time she was on the balcony, she had turned ashen. Raindrops splattered on her neck and arms.
"Chieftain, can I go back inside please?" She pleaded, her eyes squeezed shut.
"Won't you give me my tea?"
This was her agoraphobia. With each and every step it was growing more difficult for her to focus. She felt like she was walking on brittle ice that was beginning to crack under her feet. She wanted to run back screaming into the safety of the house. However, she couldn't disappoint her chieftain, so she shut her eyes and very, very slowly traversed the distance of four metres until she reached him.
The entire exercise had taken her a whole minute. He gently took the teacups from her and set them aside on the little patio table by the wall. She opened her eyes, leapt on him and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.
"Take me inside, now," she commanded imperiously, although her voice still trembled.
He picked up the tray and walked into the living room with her clinging to him. Lowering her into a chair, he handed her a cup. He then sat on the floor by her feet and leaned against her knee, sipping his tea.
"The tea must be cold."
"Don't worry about it," he said.
She ran her fingers through his sun-kissed blond hair. After a few minutes, she asked, "I heard that you were going to beacon."
"I can't refuse the invitation," he avoided her gaze.
"You could have sent anyone. Raven can go," she pointed out.
She felt him shaking his head, "There's a reason for me to go."
"You do know that they offered to host a student, not a chieftain."
"There's a reason for me to go," he repeated.
"And what is it?"
He grimaced, "Can't tell you. Sorry."
"Don't be. I understand."
She truly did. As a chieftain, you can't go spilling secrets to the civilians, wife of former chieftain or not.
"For how much time you will be gone?" She asked in a quite voice.
"I will be back in summer."
"Then what of your position chieftain, who will sit on that chair?"
She felt a smirk. "A certain redhead."
A redhead? As far as she knew, Naruto had met with only two redheads. One of them was dead, and the other was…
"Adam?"
"Yeah."
"He already has his plate full with the White Fang, and now this. Are you sure he will handle the strain and paperwork?"
The blond turned to her and softly said, "I have faith in his abilities. He is like a brother to me."
She said nothing more. There was no need to. Afterall, she fully trusted her chieftain. Not once had he lied to her, then why would he now?
"Now, forget this gloomy thoughts. After three days, I will be off to beacon. And I want to spend as much time as I can with you."
"And how do you plan to spend the time?"
He gave a smirk and started to remove his clothes. "I have an idea."
She unwinded the towel from her wet hair. Her long hair cascaded down her back. She used her scroll, which was lying on the table, to play a voice on a loop; and then she turned the volume up.
"Hurry up. Don't keep me waiting, Chief Naruto. Come to me soon," a woman's husky voice reverberated over the speakers.
He turned to face her and said, "Turn it off, we don't need it now."
She looked at him with wide misty eyes. "N-Naruto."
Naruto reached her and cupped her cheeks. "There is no need, Kali"
Kali dropped her bathrobe and kissed him fiercely, her tears and their saliva melding together.
"Hurry up. Don't keep me waiting, Chief Naruto. Come t-"
Chapter Notes:
1. Agoraphobia: The fear of wide open spaces, crowds, or uncontrolled social conditions. In this fic, Kali has a fear of open space. But it is not severe.
Warning!
This story contains instances and/or mention of assault, psychological torture, regular torture, rape, manipulation, drugs, etc.
Author Notes:
This was prologue. Obviously you won't understand much. All doubts will be cleared as the story would progress.
Review even if you are criticizing.