A/N: There's two things in here for DominicShade from Y!gal. Hehe. See? I do requests if they fit in. I could have ended it in this chapter, but I decided to keep it going a little longer.
Chapter 3: Bittersweet Release
It must have been hours. Not only that it felt like hours, which it always did when one's body was subject to so much abuse, but time had certainly passed. Kabuto came to this conclusion when he felt his moods and thoughts begin to stabilize. The effects of the medicine were waning, and the medic finally stopped shuddering in fear at each new method they tried on him. Now he was only tired and in terrible pain–oh so very sore in every which way that a body could be sore. Everything that touched him caressed a new or old lash, bruise, cut, or even burn. Ibiki had held nothing back this time.
Even Kabuto's gorgeous silver hair was tangled and tainted in most places with freshly dried blood. They would have cut it if it had not been such a good handle. Discovering the stubborn medic's distaste for anything sexual, they had used that to their advantage for a while, every which way that they could–without having the guts to actually put anything important of theirs anywhere near his mouth. No amount of threatened pain could have stopped him from taking out the last of his revenge by biting off an offending organ. When it seemed that no amount of humiliation–and pain could force him into submission, they'd perused more by-the-book methods. Each time that Kabuto seemed at his mind's end, they had changed tactic suddenly. Tender words of release and comfort had passed their dry lips, petting him soothingly as they promised him things like forgiveness, and an end to his pain.
"Tell me one secret, and I will kill you now, Kabuto." Ibiki had promised softly at one point. He stroked Kabuto's sweat and blood dampened hair, lips brushing his ear gently. "I'll end it all for you, for just one..." It was these times that were the hardest to resist. He could have told them anything. He could have lied. But no, Ibiki would have known. Wouldn't he? But then, Kabuto would remember all that they had done to him. He'd spit blood into the scarred torture master's face. Blood that the man himself had made run, from a punch that had cut the inside of the medic's lip. You reap what you sow.
You reap what you sow.
Wasn't that true for all of them? Kabuto who was a spy, and they who tried to torture secrets out of him. It was all cause and effect. They were all merely doing what they were supposed to. Living for a purpose, one that they had given themselves or accepted. His identity was that of the servant, and no one could take that away from him, try as they might. The only man that had come close to impressing upon him that he was more than a servant, but a man, had given up hope for him. That naive man. He hadn't learned from his father's mistake. You had to play by the rules, no matter the loss, to be accepted.
Still, secretly... Kabuto thanked any god that would listen, that Kakashi hadn't stayed. If it had been Kakashi to whisper sweet words of promise into his ear, he didn't know what he would have done.
Instead of fear, the medic had conditioned himself to feel hate and anger. It was hard, when he was starring right at the next implement of pain that they had chosen to inflict upon him. So much that he had trembled like a naked, dry leaf in the cold wind, not unlike the cold knot in his stomach that never left him. Each time that he lost consciousness, a cold splash of water brought him back around. And the rare few times that water hadn't been enough, they'd used more potent methods, like ammonium carbonate, which burned his nose and smoldered in his lungs. He was not allowed even a moments reprieve from the seemingly eternal hell that he had been placed in. When finally Kabuto could not even scream, his throat so sore and his body so exhausted, Ibiki had chosen to stop.
- - - - - - - - -
Kabuto's vision was blurry to begin with, but he could barely keep them open by now even if he had wanted to see anything. Even the hands on his upper arms, hauling him up to drag him out of the room were painful. His legs, which were refusing to aid him in walking, they hurt even though it was probably more painful to rest all of his weight onto his arms and shoulders as he was. When the bright light of the hallway hit his sensitive eyes that had become accustomed to the dim light, he winced and closed them tightly.
Voices filtered at the edge of his awareness. Bits and pieces of dialogue that were not directed towards him. Ibiki had stopped to speak to one of the men behind them, something about someone there for him. Kabuto half-opened his eyes, but he couldn't make out any faces in front of him. It was a group, heading towards them. More dark uniforms of the torture masters, and a prisoner between them. A prisoner...
"Kabuto-sensei!" A familiar voice gasped, and confirmed his fears. They were taking Jaetou to his next session. Forced his eyes to focus as they drew closer, and Jaetou's captors were struggling with holding the strong ninja back. Jaetou's voice was pained as he called for Kabuto again, and he wondered why that was. Was he feeling sorry for the medic, horrified at what they had done to him? When they were a mere five feet away, Kabuto's captors stopped. One hand grabbed his hair again, lifting his head.
"Do you see this, you Oto bastard? This is what you're looking forward to." Gakyu chuckled darkly. "The snake's bitch is our bitch now, and you will be too." He went on, and Kabuto didn't bother to correct the man. Let them believe that. His eyes were on Jaetou, and his comrade's on his. The larger ninja was not in much better shape than he was, as his first session had not been interrupted as Kabuto's had. And then of course, Kabuto had healed. Jaetou looked tired, and his eyes, they were desperate.
"No..." Kabuto whispered.
"Kabuto-sensei..." The other pleaded in response. Damn it. He couldn't be serious... The medic's eyes watered, and Gakyu laughed. Kabuto couldn't do it, it was impossible! He couldn't do this... and yet he was calling up the chakara even as he thought that. Terrible thoughts of pain and anguish filled his head all over again as he did, and just as Ibiki glanced over, seeming to notice that the groups had stopped, it was too late.
"What are you doing, idiots! Get them away from–!!" He shouted just as Kabuto lunged.
His blue-lined hand struck Jaetou's chest hard, and the other man merely winced. Pulling them apart, each was thrown against the opposite sides of the hallway's wall. The large ninja coughed, and blood spilled over his lips as he sank down against it, his smile nearly delirious.
"Get a medic!" Ibiki shouted, rushing over. Kabuto coughed as well, but his was only blood from his split lips, and lost air from hitting the wall. Kabuto's injuries had been cut to half by the amount of healing that he had been forced to use to pull this off. As the ninja around them scrambled about, he glanced across to Jaetou. The man was smiling, though he coughed violently. Lucky... bastard. As the light faded from his eyes, he mouthed to his comrade, blood covering his chin and running down his neck.
'Thank you.'
/How nice for you, you cruel bastard./ Kabuto thought. /An end to your nightmare, your hell... and in return, I am in even better shape for them, again. You weren't going to talk, Jaetou... I know you. Still... you are welcome./ Though he was dizzy from the use of chakara mixed with so much fatigue, he felt better. Which was unfortunate for him.
"Damn it!" Ibiki shouted, the only time that Kabuto had seen him lose his temper so far. His fist smashed into Gakyu's jaw with a sickening crunch, felling the irritating man. The medic would have smiled, if he had not known which way Ibiki was going to look next. Sure enough, his eyes settled on Kabuto. He did smile then, though by now his mind screamed at him not to. Never before had the ex-spy had trouble smiling at someone. Ibiki grabbed the back of Kabuto's hair, kneeling as he hauled the younger man over his bent knee. Holding him there by use of his hair, Kabuto gasped in shock when he felt the first smack land on the sore flesh of his upturned backside. Whimpering, he squirmed as he received the next few, each smack turning his already pink skin white, and then deepening the color.
What in the world..?! Kabuto had expected retaliation, but he had not expected this! Chastised like an errant child in front of the group of men that had gathered to observe the commotion. His face burned with a flush that was as dark as his ass right now, tears slipping from his eyes as the blows continued. Ten, twenty, twenty five... Some of them men allowed themselves to snicker, and Kabuto heard them all too clearly. Fists clenched as he buried his face into his arms, but he couldn't hide his obvious shame. Each blow did more damage to him, to his pride, than the sting of the lash, the cut from the knife, a burn from an iron, or any number of instruments that they had used to inflict pain on his worn body. Only the physical rape had been this heard to bear, and that was only because of the drug, and Kakashi's presence. When Ibiki did finally stop, Kabuto ached all over again. Both his burning backside, and his abused and tired body from being held in such an awkward position. The older man stood suddenly, and Kabuto fell gracelessly to the floor. He groaned, curling up as much as he could. Ibiki smirked. Perhaps now he was on to something.
"Take that worthless excuse for a ninja to his cell, and let him sit, but secure his hands above his head. And get rid of him." He nodded towards Jaetou. "I have someone waiting for me in my office. I'll be back in a few hours."
- - - - - - - - -
Ibiki was pissed as hell that one prisoner was dead, this much was true, but he was also optimistic about breaking the remaining one. He had gotten close today, he knew it. Perhaps after a few hours rest he would start up again, with a fresh team. Kakashi was wrong, Kabuto would talk. No matter what it took, the torture master was not going to give up on this one. His resolve was almost touching, though. Killing his teammate and healing himself to do so... Even Ibiki admitted that it was admirable. That didn't change the fact that Kabuto was an enemy of his village. In times of war, many valiant hero's had perished at the hands of interrogators. And Kabuto was neither of those things. Just as underhanded as his master, the medic had killed many of his comrades before he left Konoha, and had even come close to killing Kakashi's student, Naruto. Why then, was the naïve Jounin so intent on giving him any help at all? Something about ninja being human as well.
Well, ninjas could be human all they wanted to, away from Ibiki and this village. The boy was an enemy.
Opening the door to his office, Ibiki was not prepared to duck properly from the object that came flying his way. His arm came up to let the book hit his arm and fall heavily to the floor. He met the dark eyes glaring back at him, confused. "Iruka, what..?"
"Tell me where in that book of yours does it say that sexually assaulting another person while in a stable relationship is not cheating!" The shorter one, currently sitting on his desk with his legs crossed, fumed.
"Cheat...Wait, what? Did Kakashi talk to you?"
"You bet he did, you bastard! I can't believe you would actually do something like that! I mean, not only is that a terrible, awful thing to do to someone, but it was cheating Ibiki!" Iruka ranted, both of his hands behind him on the desk, his face flushed he was so angry. Ibiki bent down to pick up his book, approaching the desk slowly.
"Iruka, I've told you, this is work..." He led off then the younger ninja hopped off of the desk, stalking over to his much taller lover. He pointed his finger, waving it dangerously close to Ibiki's face.
"If you say that one more time, I'm going to track down some of my better students and do a little 'checking up'!" Iruka said, one hand on his hip. "Sex has no place in anything professional, Ibiki! I would expect you to know that!"
"Psychologically, it leads—."
"Physically, you have a lover! Oh, I'm sorry. You had a lover."
"You don't mean that." Ibiki sighed, setting his book down on the desk as he walked around it. Iruka flushed even darker that his threat was not taken seriously.
"Oh, I do. Until you understand the difference between work and personal lessons, I mean it." He said firmly, crossing his arms. Ibiki frowned, setting his hands out on the desk and leaning on them.
"Iruka, he was sleeping with he enemy."
"Was. And as far as I've checked, he hasn't exactally masterminded an escape for that boy yet. Kakashi is more loyal to Konoha than half of the ninja that I can count off on both hands! What he does in private and what he does in his work are two different things. You had no right to take a hand in teaching him anything!"
"Now you're taking his side?"
"His side, Ibiki? Well yes, I am taking his side, when the other "side" is the man that just raped a boy ten years his junior to teach someone he knows very well would never jeopardize his village for sex! Unlike a certain someone I know who was willing to jeopardize his relationship for a personal lesson!" The younger man turned away, heading for the door. Ibiki was silent for once, struck by his lover's words. He couldn't really argue, could he? He hadn't thought about anyone else when he had taken it upon himself to teach his fellow Jounin a lesson. It was a worthwhile lesson, no doubt, and proved to be an effective method of torture... but what had he lost? Probably Kakashi's friendship, and possibly Iruka's affection. Sighing, the torture master hung his head in his hands. This was a mess... he was supposed to choose between personal life and his work? It had never been an issue before this. He almost wished that the silver-haired devil of a medic had not gotten himself caught in the first place.
He had foiled two other interrogations already by killing the other prisoners—Ibiki made a mental note to get Gakyu taken off of the torture squad, and he was still resisting their every tactic. While the younger man looked fragile, he was anything but. Looking at Ibiki, one could see very well that he would be good under torture. He hadn't expected it from the slender medic brought to him dazed and defiant. Then again, right now he could very well imagine someone like Iruka standing up just as well under such things. Loyalty was an amazing thing, and in his own blind desire to see it broken, Ibiki had forgotten to be loyal to those around him.
- - - - - - - - -
The endless darkness was no comfort to the weary and the wounded that night. It hadn't been all too long since he had been brought back to his cell, chained above his head to the cold stone wall that irritated his sensitive and lash-marked back each time he but breathed in the stale, damp air into his lungs. The air, the floor, and the wall were cold, chilling his now clammy skin even more, and even the goose pimples that rose up were painful to him. No matter how he shifted he could not become comfortable, sitting on his punished backside. That much had been done after what healing had taken place, fresh and painful, though the only hot place on his body. The medic tried to will himself to sleep, but it jut wasn't possible in his awkward position, and he was not yet tired enough to pass out.
They could come at any moment for another session... Kabuto was wearing thin under them, though he swore he would lose his mind before he let them loosen his tongue. They could drug him, beat him, cut him, burn him, or fuck him into oblivion. If not out of loyalty, by now out of sheer spite towards his captors, he would not speak a word. He did not expect anyone to save him. It was not his master's style to go out of his way for someone else. Kabuto may have been valuable to him, but right now he as nothing but a burden. Still, things could have been worse... He could have let his master go to take care of the warded lab, and had him injured in the resulting blast. This is what he was for, the life of a servant. From childhood he had served and served, without any real loyalty or home to call his own. Orochimaru had given him more than he ever could have asked for. A master who did not sell him out or abandon him. A home, though it traveled. Responsibility, and the means to conduct his own experiments and jutsus.
How could he betray such a person, even if he was as power-driven and selfish as he was?
Kakashi had been a nice side-game. The older man was passionate, strong, and terribly naïve. What was that line he had said to him once? 'We may be ninja...but we are also men.' It went against every code that had been drilled into him from the time he had learned to walk. Ninja only fought for their goal, the goal of their master or client. Any ninja that fell wounded or behind were to be killed, least they become a burden or be captured. Kakashi went against this concept, like the great White Fang of Konoha, his father before him. Kabuto had always thought it interesting, how the Jounin seemed now. His face masked, even to his closest friends, just like his true personality. All of his pain was hidden behind that calm, lazy exterior.
He had given Kabuto a rare glimpse into that true self, which in a lot of ways was just as happy as he seemed. It was also very sad. So much that even the dispassionate medic had felt shiver of melancholy when he caught the white-haired Jounin staring out of a window, unmasked and unguarded. Why the man had chosen to dally with him, and why Kabuto had allowed it, this was still the unanswered question.
Kabuto had heard form his master many times about the well-known Copynin. In fact, Kabuto had heard stories about most of Konoha's Jounin when they were young. Though Kakashi in himself was a mystery to him, because the Sannin had left before the young Kakashi had gotten his Sharingan. It was one thing that Kabuto had never brought himself to ask him about, though he had brought himself to place his lips tenderly over the scar once. Getting to know the mysterious, lazy Jounin, Kabuto came to learn that that scar symbolized everything that the older ninja was... and he had no idea as to why.
Feeling his head begin to get heavier at last, Kabuto welcomed sleep as it came. By his guess, which was very vague at this point, it had been just over a day since he had set foot in Konoha. That made it a few days since he had gone missing. His master would have heard of what happened by now. Would he be disappointed? Dare he hope, for an instant, that his master would be sad? It was possible... He had been with the Sannin for years, and seen almost every side of the powerful, and slightly delusional man. And right now, in his most painful, hopeless moment... he missed him. Orochimaru was unreachable to him in terms of strength and power, and so Kabuto had come to rely on him just as much as the Sannin relied on him, in terms of power. He was...safe with the legendary ninja above him, hiding under his wing, if it came to it.
Darkness came like a black, runny ink, covering the medic's tired and worn out mind in a tight grip. He wished he would never open his eyes.
- - - - - - - - -
The sun was dying over the horizon of rooftops, and the sky was a pale orange pink, fading into purple at the seam. Dozens of families were settling down for the evening, getting together for dinner, mothers calling their children in for the night, the children dirty and scratched up from playing ninja all day.
This was the world that Kakashi sought to protect. This single village was his world, the one that he had fought for and protected ever since he was but a child. From the window of his bedroom, high over the other rooftops around him, he watched this world getting ready to sleep, and remembered just what he was protecting. It wasn't as if he had ever forgotten, just that he had to remember that every person made a difference, and that the medic that he had been playing with was, in the end, a threat to this peace and quiet. If not on his own, then because of his master. And he as loyal to the man, one of Konoha most dangerous enemies. Why then, had he ever let Kakashi touch him? It wasn't a matter of why the Jounin had done it.
He had wanted to. The part of Kakashi that was not fake was his love of all things sexual. Gender didn't matter to him, and he'd had quite enough of both worlds, but people quickly tired of a man who was so devoted to his work, and was hesitant to remove his mask—even for a lover. Perhaps he had decided to sleep with the medic simply for the need to have no ties to begin with. Nothing was expected, and nothing was given except for the expected exchange of pleasure and the rare, whispered words. Maybe, at one time he had wanted more. Maybe he had wished they had never been together at all. Thus was the case now. Sliding from the ledge, Kakashi left his apartment.
He had to see him again. He had to find some kind of resolution, or he would go insane. The man who was willing to lose his life for anyone in this village was attached to an enemy, and this could not happen. He had to choose between them—but then he already had, and he felt the need to justify himself. Even if the medic had never expected anything from him, he owed him an apology. He had had contact with Kabuto, drawn him closer than was good for either of them, and now he so coldly pushed him away. Though it was perfectly understandable due to the circumstances. Really, both of them had simply been unwise in choosing a partner to satisfy their cravings. But then maybe it was because it was so forbidden that it had been so damn good in the first place.
It was almost fully dark by the time he neared the dreaded building that held all of Konoha's most dangerous and valuable criminals within the village. He was told that Ibiki was gone already, which was just fine for him. The older man probably had his hands full with his lover by now anyway. The ninja inside let him pass, but they watched him closely, probably on Ibiki's orders. That bastard still didn't trust him? He wondered if it had gotten to Tsunade yet, about his affair with an enemy. She was really going to chew him out if it had... But then again, she might not. Tsunade was a sensible woman, and a woman in general. She might better understand unexplained wantings better than a man, since women were so much more emotional.
The cell was only guarded by one man when he came to it. Of course, the medic wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. His tired dark eye merely stared into the shorter guards, and the man hesitated only a moment before he opened the cell with his key. Kakashi nodded his thanks, stepping into the room. The light from the crack of the door seemed to light only the corner that the sleeping one resided in, and the rest was so pitch that it seemed he would be swallowed up as soon as it was closed again. Kabuto was sleeping, like that...? He stepped closer to the body, his eye raking over the still form. His arms showed deep blue-black, purple, and even more healing yellow bruises on his once flawless skin, worst around his wrists then anywhere. His chest was a mottled mix of burns, lashes, and various bruises as well. One in particular on the side of his ribs, leading Kakashi to well believe one or more had been broken with that blow, probably from a foot. His legs, which had been drawn up close to his chest, it seemed, had slid down to a more comfortable position in his likely troubled sleep, were covered mostly with various bruises and lashes as well, though Kakashi could see that the backs were worse than the front of them. He didn't even want to see his back. The guard spoke from behind him,
"He killed the other prisoner, in the hall. Gakyu-san stopped to taunt him, and that one there, I guess he healed or something, and he hit him in the chest with his bare hand."
"This... is healed?" The masked Jounin asked, his eyebrow lifting as his visible eye widened, never taking it off of the medic's slowly raising and falling chest.
"...He couldn't walk when they brought him out. I haven't seen one that bad in a while... Usually Ibiki-taichou jumps to cutting off fingers and melting off skin. I guess he really wanted to break this one differently, for some reason...Ibiki-taichou did give him a good thrashing when he killed that other one though. Pulled him right over his knee. I don't think I've ever seen him do that before."
"..." Kakashi noted the still red-hot skin on the tops of the medic's thighs, and what he could see of his ass. "Could you leave me for a moment, please?"
"Ibiki-taichou said..."
"Leave the door open then." Kakashi snapped, and the guard winced. He left slowly, standing just outside the door. He didn't dare to keep watching though. The Jounin lifted his headband, looking with both eyes at the silver-haired teen. His legs that were so abused, he could still remember them wrapped around his waist, soft and warm and strong. The curve of his hips, slender and easy to hold, while still angular like any man's. That once pale, unmarked chest so ready to receive whatever kisses and caress' he could give it, and his back, that Kakashi did not risk waking him to see, a beautiful and flawless canvas of soft, smooth skin. His slender neck, which always seemed to easy to grip, if he had wanted to, was bruised with angry marks instead of love-bites and passion bred hickeys. His silky hair was tangled and tainted with blood where the water to wake him had not washed it away, and his face...
He knelt down, reaching out to press him thumb gently to a bruise at the corner of Kabuto's pale pink lips, running over it and his lower lip. He remembered the feel of those lips on his, kiss-swollen and moist, not dry and cracked as they were now. What was he doing here...? This was madness. Kakashi had been through a war, he had been through being betrayed and hurt by those around him, but never before had be been foolish enough to become involved with someone that he knew would betray him. He didn't love Kabuto. Love was something that was mutual, and shouldn't be this painful. Besides that, the stubborn, cat-like ninja only had eyes for his master—whether it was to serve him, or out of hopeless love. He leaned forward, pressing his lip softly to the younger man's. His voice was low and soft as he whispered, "...I'm sorry."
He stood slowly, hands in his pockets as he left the cell. There was nothing he could do. He had chosen to sleep with an enemy, and that enemy had been caught. He didn't need Ibiki to teach him anything, he already knew well enough. The knowledge was bitter, like salt in an open wound. The price of loyalty was harsh.