I do not own Naruto.
The sisters, in light of their (or rather, Franky's) obvious, and immediate, protest of Lien's actions, and their (again, Franky's) prompt condemnation of their cousin, are gifted with a cell of their own instead of immediate death.
They do not see this as the mercy it is.
Precious few held within the depths of T&I are ever graced with the presence of a medical nin for the sole purpose of ensuring prolonged health, but that is immediately what happens after the disappearance of Lien, and subsequent alteration of reality. In fact, the Hokage ensures everyone who was in that room receives a full battery of tests.
Franky is in some sort of shock like state immediately after it all, so it is easy to have the masked, bland iryo nin run her through the diagnostics. Theresa remains unconscious for the duration of it, which makes the whole thing simpler as well. There is no doubt that they would have become combative if they were in their right minds, but the events leading to this moment have left them unprepared to fight back in this moment.
Still, Tenzo thinks it is a bit strange. The depth of the examinations aren't shallow, and are even downright invasive at times. Samples are taken, several diagnostics are run, and it seems like they are evaluating the very chemical makeup of the forced visitors.
The reason becomes clear once the results come in a week later. The three natives are in proper form, and cleared for duty.
The two foreigners are what can be considered near dead by this world's standards, and their charts reveal incredible differences at an anatomic level.
According to the reports, their bodies are riddled with drugs and toxins, foreign substances that have no name in this world, but must be common in theirs if the amounts in their system are to be believed. Thier liver, lymphatic systems, and thyroids function at accelerated rates to combat the influx of these compounds, and their respiratory and cardiac systems work nearly double time to keep up.
The chart actually goes beyond his understanding of medicine and anatomy as it continues on, citing peculiarities in the Insular Cortex and Anterior Cingulate Cortex, which he concludes from context are section of their brains. He has little to no idea what it means, other than that Yamanaka are peculiarly ill suited for infiltrating their minds to find information, and they have entirely shifted perceptions compared to native inhabitants.
Which is...well. Inoichi seems upset by this fact, though he also it finds it explains many things.
"It means their sense of identities are malleable, developed different from ours," the interrogator states darkly, his hand fisted around the manilla folders. "It means that they can infect us if we try to go in."
"Infect?"
Inoichi wipes his face of emotion, but there is mourning in his eyes as he looks down the corridor to where he knows his daughter's cell is. He is instructing her every day now, pulling her from the anger and grief she seems to be experiencing, getting her to focus on the training she needs to get out, instead of what she presumes is a loss. It's only been a week, but when he is posted at her cell, he can already see the changes. The little girl can already turn a conversation whatever direction she wants it, and is a natural born manipulator. It's unsurprising, considering the Clan she was born into.
There are moments, however, when she her expression warps, and her whole body stills. She will sit in the tiny bed they provided her with, staring at the corner her supposed friend melted into, and he can never tell is she looks terrified or concerned.
"There are a few minds that we cannot take," Inoichi says simply. "Simply because those minds take back."
Unsettled, Tenzo doesn't comment further. What he does end up doing, however, is confessing his trip to the other world to the Hokage, both of them. To be honest, he still can't convince himself it was real, but he knows that it cannot be fake, so it hangs in some strange paradox in his mind. Both real and fake at the same time.
Which makes explaining it with any sort of clarity very, very hard.
The Hokage, at least, does him the honor of waiting till the end of the report to comment.
"I can see why you might believe this to be the product of outside influence on the psyche, rather than an actual experience," he allows after a very long pause. Sometime during the explanation of the foreigners as wolves, death without dying, and ineffable Dao, he had brought out his pipe. The smoke is uniquely sweet and cloying, drifting lazily up and dispersing through the room, and strangely enough it calms Tenzo. It's a grounding smell, one that he has taken in many times in his life as he has delivered various mission reports, and guarded the Hokage himself. It reminds him of where he is, gives him something real to grasp.
"I would have reported it immediately had I known, sir," Tenzo answers stonily. He expected punishment, honestly. This apparently was highly pertinent information, rather than a lucid dream, and he should have delivered it straight away.
The Hokage nods his head, peering out the window of his office. The sprawling network of secrecy seals etched into the sills are a stark juxtaposition when compared to the sunlight outside, though Tenzo can't quite pinpoint what makes him say so.
"I can submit myself for a mind sweep if necessary for confirmation of loyalty," Tenzo offers, though he is reluctant to do so. It feels a bit violating when other nin invade his mindspace, even with consent. Like a wet finger in his ear, or fluid in his sinuses, but magnified a thousand times, and all psychological.
(He won't admit that Lien doing it had been different.)
"You are a good agent, and impeccably loyal. The fact that you will submit yourself for review is pleasing, and when Inoichi has time, it may be done. However, I understand your plight. Never before have we come across something that can obscure the lines of dreams and reality so much, " the Hokage allows, taking a drag on his pipe. He stares out over the village for a long time before releasing another cloud of smoke.
"Sir...if I may be candid?" Tenzo trails carefully. He may have avoided punishment for not reporting, but this is another matter entirely. He should take his wins and move on.
The Hokage spares him an inquisitive glance. Years of Root training are hard to beat, and rarely does Tenzo take the initiative to speak more than he feels is necessary. He's not quiet, or submissive per say, but rather self contained. He knows this, as does the Professor, which probably makes him more amiable to the idea of a subordinate submitting an unasked for viewpoint.
The elderly leader nods just once, and Tenzo chooses his words carefully.
"It is clear to me that we are dealing with an entirely different culture and system then what we know. Their civilian mannerisms -which would indicate certain deficiencies here- seem to have an entirely different meaning in their world."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that I believe that they seem incredibly educated. The amount of printed literature present in their house, their ability to articulate, and the advanced technology indicate that their culture may place a higher emphasis on academic pursuits. Whether it is because the supposed time their society has had to evolve, or simple core value differences, I cannot say. What I can deduct is though that they may not seem adapted to our idea of advanced combat, or societal patterns-"
"-they have, more likely, developed entirely separate ways of dealing with things, and divergent field of expertise. This is a logical deduction. I am not ignorant to this fact, however, I have yet to discover a way to collect intelligence, as the Yamanaka cannot interrogate them, and it is difficult to know the exact physical limits we can use to extract information, or if such stimulus will even be effective," The Hokage completes, gesturing with his weathered hands. "Yet Danzo and I are troubled by the abilities that one of them put on full display, flouting security with such a petty, mad demeanor."
Thus they come to the crux of the matter. They cannot gather more information, cannot resolve the matter with what little they have, and they have no idea where to even begin. They want to stop Lien from doing whatever it is she is doing, and they want to ensure the safety and security of their Village. All that cannot be done as things stand.
"The young Yamanaka Ino is very loyal to her home, however, she has expressed sympathies to the perpetrator, and is compromised by her influence, and any knowledge she has seems to be muddled. She confirms things, but doesn't tend to volunteer extra details. Whether this is because she swayed, simply deems it difficult to pinpoint them, or finds them extraneous, we do not know," Tenzo adds on carefully.
The Hokage nods to this as well, folding his hands together once more, and taking a puff of his pipe.
"The two prisoners express condemnation for the actions of the third, and a genuine desire to return home," he continues cautiously. "They have been largely compliant, most likely out of fear, but a large portion of their resentment is directed at the third member."
"Tenzo," his leader scolds, urging them to the point.
"Cross reference information between the prisoners and Ino. We may not trust them individually, but we can believe in the girl's loyalty to her village and family, as we can trust in the prisoners anger, and their wish to return home," Tenzo states finally.
The Hokage purses his lips.
"We have no way of properly interrogating the prisoners without physical damage, and we aren't sure how much we can heal, so we don't know what the limits ar-" he begins, but then he pauses, his eyes narrowing as he goes over the introduction to this conversation. Tenzo can see his mind working as incredible speeds as he extrapolates behavior based on a society based on academics and knowledge to such a large extent, and one where a multitude of information outlets would be available to the civilian populace, instead of hoarded by governing factions.
(Or, if Tenzo suspects correctly, one where there was so much information and so many people, it couldn't be hoarded efficiently.)
Suddenly the Hokage laughs, a sound Tenzo hasn't heard since this all began. He doesn't look younger when he does, his face still weathered and wrinkled, but he does appear healthier. Less taxed by the ongoing events.
It doesn't go on for very long before he is forced to stop because his pipe slips out of between his lips. It's a simple for a ninja of his caliber to catch the tumbling object before it touches the ground, but the event signals the end of his mirth. However, his pleased joy still lingers.
"I think you have a point, Cat-san," The Hokage tells him. "We haven't tried asking."
Tenzo bows his head in acceptance of this statement. It seems to him, that if he was reared in a place where information was so vastly shared and spread, he would be instinctively trained to attempt to understand and find answers, see different viewpoints, and work toward common goals. Lien certainly seemed to be doing those things when she told him her theories, and when she gathered a council for advisement on her actions.
The Hokage's face turns ponderous as the silence between them stretches on.
"I suppose this mean Hatake has been contacted as well," he states after a long moment.
Tenzo...Tenzo hadn't really thought of that, actually. They never spoke of it. Rather, Tenzo didn't bring it up, and neither did Senpai.
The Hokage seems to read this from his stillness, and he smiles slyly.
"I suppose we should check, now shouldn't we?"
Theresa is the one awake and on watch when a familiar figure casually strolls into the cell like they own the place. Which, she supposes they actually do.
The sisters set up a shift system as soon as Theresa woke up, mildly concussed and confused to all hell about the cement room, prison furnishings, and bandages on her arm. A shitty palette was digging into her back, and her head was cushioned on warm skin, Franky's usually jovial expression twisted with stress and shock as she watched her sister sleep.
Honestly, for a moment she thought they were ten again, whispering secrets to each other in the shared room they once had.
But it was not so. Franky's face was to angular, not rounded with youth, her brows drawn and lips raw from where she chewed them. She looked like she had seen something that had taken years off her life.
That latter guess was not far from the truth, apparently.
After a long, long time, Franky began to fill Theresa in, her words hushed and stilted. She spoke of the meeting that took place, a child in a chair in some torture dungeon, the man whose body she had taken over a few nights ago, and a familiar masked assassin. She broke it down into pieces, and Theresa could see her sister trying to compartmentalize as she went on. Trying to drain it down to bare facts and words spoken, her sentences sterile enough to be used in a courthouse, or a lab report.
Worse yet, she spoke of Lien. Of Lien's choice.
At first, Theresa had been livid. She felt shocked, betrayed, because Lien could bring them home, but she just left them to rot. She deserved to be struck, and when Theresa saw her again she was going to chew Lien out so hard.
But it as time went on, and the sisters spoke is their quiet tones, unable to tell time in any fashion, they began to wonder if being trapped in dungeons, like brutally dying, had become normalized for their cousin. If her unraveling mental state was exacerbated by the tea, if there had been a single breaking point they could isolate or identify at all.
Because this Lien? This was not the one they knew.
They were frightened. Terrified, actually, but they were also angry and confused. They knew exactly jack shit about this country, other than it was apparently inhabited by magic wielding assassins, was behind their times in terms of weaponry, and was totally cool with leaving prisoners to rot.
...Alright, they were served meals through the slot in the door, and there were some basic facilities, but still. There was no trial, no formal sentencing, not even a hint of some sort of judicial system.
They couldn't agree if the system was autocratic, or something styled similar to a South American Junta. They had no idea what the basis for the cultural system was, though judging by all the men folk, it seemed outwardly patriarchal in appearance. Then again, they hadn't seen the society itself, and their experiences were too small to accurately say anything at all, really. Which made deductions harder still, and all they could agree on was being stupidly cautious with anyone who eventually came. If they would imprison a little girl, then two adults could be in for some real pain.
The only reason they held on, that they pulled through, is because they had each other. Thankfully, blessedly, they were together in this ass backwards shithole their cousin had condemned them to.
Oh, time had brought understanding to some extent, and there was concern, definitely, but they were still furious to be left rotting in this cage alone.
Well, alone until now.
The wizard assassin entering the cell is familiar, wearing the same feline mask that he has been adorned with since they met him. His gait is still eerily silent, his body still covered in armor and outdated weapons. It should not be relieving to see him, but Theresa is glad that they did not send in a stranger.
Then again, he is still mostly a stranger. There have never been any proper introductions, and she doesn't even know his name.
She shakes doesn't take her eyes off off him as she moves to shake her sister awake, and he does them the courtesy of allowing Franky to get her grounding before anything starts. It's not much, considering, but she does note the action. They are not the ones in control, but the illusion of courtesy is nice.
With both sisters up, and silence filling the cell, the atmosphere becomes a bit strained. It's just them, staring at each other from across the room awkwardly. Theresa is content to let it happen, because though she is angry, she's also not stupid enough to push what appears to be their warden. She gets the feeling that a lack of trial is just the tip of the iceberg in this world.
"I cooked you breakfast," Franky states in a betrayed voice, breaking the silence.
Theresa closes her eyes. She had thought Franky was on the same page as her. Obviously, she was wrong.
The masked figure has the good grace to shuffle his feet, as if caught in some small social faux paus instead anything morally wrong.
"I understand that procedure here may be… odd to you," the figure states apologetically. "But I can say that so far, as unknown intruders to the village found within a restricted area, your treatment has been very lenient."
"What? You gonna tie me up in a big torture chair like you did with that tiny little girl?" Frank asks, and Theresa elbows her sister in the side in an effort to shut her up. She had thought the agreed to keep their shit on lock down, not egg on their jailers.
"That little girl is the heiress to a large clan, and she is in here because Lien dropped an unknown amount of information directly into her psyche, after merging with her for a short period of time," the man informs them placidly, his voice flat.
Franky opens her mouth to protest again, but the man holds up his hand to halt her.
"No physical damage has been done to her. She was previously restrained because Lien manifested a dangerous energy around her, and we had no idea what she intended to do with it. Since that time, she has been recuperating with the help of her father, not that it is any business of yours," he concludes. "I informed you simply because I believe you misinterpreted the situation, and gathered a false viewpoint on how the village handles children."
Franky closes her mouth.
"Clan?" Theresa hedges carefully, seeing an opening. "Does this world….does this village respect clan structure?"
The man seems to consider this notion for a moment before nodding his head ever so slightly.
"Does your vil-...world?"
Theresa twists her features into an unsure face, one that Franky mirrors with a shrug.
"A lot of countries do, but I'm not sure what the exact structure is out of all one hundred and ninety six of them," she allows. "But our family has something like the old clan structure."
The man is suspiciously quiet for a long moment.
"I'm sorry, did you say one hundred and ninety six countries?" he asks in a noticeably duller voice.
Theresa nods, because yes, she did. She's pretty sure she's right about that as well. However, judging by his reaction, they probably think that's weird.
"Do you… do you know how many people are in each?" he asks.
"In each? No way. However, it's pretty common knowledge that there's around seven point four billion in total or so," Franky answers before Theresa can stop her.
That really seems to shake the man, because he goes stone still. For another short while, he does nothing at all, but he eventually moves again, smoothly gliding forward towards the two women.
"I think I'm not hearing you right," he admits, a little breathless as he approaches. "How many of you?"
"Seven billion plus," Franky repeats, delighted by the show. Even Theresa is taking a bit of vindictive pleasure out of shocking him, she must admit.
"That can't be right," he says a little helplessly.
"As far as we know, it's fairly accurate. Our world has a bit of a population problem, but if it helps, our clan is only in around nine of those countries, and only numbers in the triple digits or so," Theresa says, attempting sound apologetic. She's playing it up though, because if he thinks their population is astronomic, they probably have a much smaller one, and a clan in the hundreds would be a considerable force. More than enough to broker better treatment.
(She doesn't even think she's lying, either. She'd have to check the books, but she's pretty sure if she includes both her father's and mother's extended families, it's up there.)
However, her acting must not be up to his standards, because he turns to look at her. She notices his eyes beneath the mask, disbelieving and unamused. It's a strangely human trait that makes the whole situation a little less threatening.
...Probably human. She'd like to do some testing to confirm it, actually.
"Why does it even matter?" Franky chimes in, a little less gleeful now that he's closer. "Unless you're planning to make a solid connection with our world, the statistics won't help you."
Here he seem to gather himself up again, probably reminding himself of his purpose.
"It has been concluded that we do not have enough information to deal with the current situation," he informs them, somehow heaving some sort of wizard assassin professionalism out of his ass.
"And yet we are locked in a cement cell, meaning you have enough information to continue to restrain us," Franky rebukes in return. "In return for the considerable hospitality we displayed."
He doesn't answer.
Theresa taps her finger against her palms, considering what it is she can get out of this situation. What she wants is to go home, but until Lien returns, she doesn't think that's possible. Logically speaking, they are at a disadvantage, and the governmental system in place seems to be totalitarian in nature, meaning they can do anything they want without consequence, or damn near that. She isn't deluded enough to think that Franky and her can just walk free, or even escape if they try. For now they are bound, and until they learn more about the structure binding them, they are limited in actions.
"I think that the dilemma you face is mutual," Theresa allows. "You need to learn more about us to know any strengths we might have, the threat we may pose, and ultimately mitigate any damage we might do, or utilize us properly as assets. We need to know more about you so we can try and understand the same, but more so we can go home."
The masked man nods carefully, as if to let her know he's following her logic.
"I also understand that you have protocols to follow, even though they are affronting and barbaric to me. In light of this understanding, I would like to volunteer any assistance I can give, and considering I have fourteen years of various schooling under my belt, this is no small offer."
The man jolts a little in surprise at the number of years she has spent in academia, but he otherwise still doesn't speak.
"This is, of course, contingent on a few things," Franky chimes in, seeing where her sister is taking this. "We will be honest and upfront with our assistance as long as we remain together, without physical coercion. We will attempt to deliver a satisfactory service, and will cover a broad range of topics, but we do not know everything about our world, let alone yours, so accuracy will be variable."
"And we won't fight, or otherwise attempt any sabotage, espionage, or subterfuge during our stay," Theresa finishes.
The man seems to consider them for a moment, and Theresa stares defiantly back. This moment has weight. Meaning. This is the first civil attempt at diplomacy between interdimensional beings, in order to collaborate together for a common cause. This shit should go down in history books like the moon landing.
"I will take this offer to those with the power to accept it," The man returns solemnly, giving his rank away. Not a leader of the people then, but neither is Theresa, or Franky for that matter.
"Before you do, can we get a name? Or is that rude here?" Franky interjects.
The masked man hesitates.
"Come on, you know ours. I can't keep calling you 'that one guy' in my head," she weedles.
"If I receive permission, I will tell you," he says after a moment.
They get their answer eventually.
Tenzo. The Heavenly Creation.
AN:So, thanks again to Siartha on tumblr, for cleaning up the mess that my grammar can be, and also making sure the bio stuff was at least sorta passable. I also wanna say thank you to those who have consistently shown interest/support. #bless