Whew! This chapter was difficult, but it's finally here.
WARNING: MATURE READERS ONLY! Seriously. This chapter is pretty violent, and more than a little gory. You've been warned. And oh yeah- there's a little (lots of) foul language.
Disclaimer reminder: I own nothing; see chapter one.
Shikamaru winced at the sudden punch that connected with his jaw. He had only just closed his eyes when the man startled him with it.
"Pay attention, boy! This is not naptime."
Well damn. And here I thought it was the perfect opportunity.
He opened his eyes with disinterest to see the man's black eyes glaring down at him, looking completely relaxed but in total control.
"You don't look too old…I'm gonna guess you're…what, not even twenty yet?"
He said nothing, and his face stayed as blank as ever.
"I'm also gonna guess that you're a chuunin –stop me if I'm wrong- because genin can't give orders like I saw you doing. And you're too young to be a jonin."
"Maybe I'm ANBU."
The man's laugh was deceptively hearty. "Nice one, kid. Tell me another."
Shikamaru shrugged as much as the wrist-biting rope would allow and glanced casually around the office. Nothing really interesting to look at, but then again, anything would be better than looking at this guy.
The man sat back down in his comfy chair, sighing resignedly. He crossed his left ankle over his right knee. "Look kid. I'm trying to make this as easy as possible on you. Tell me what I want to know, and you're free to run back home to your mama."
The lazy genius rolled his eyes. She'd probably send me on another lame errand on my way back to the battle.
"No? Well, then maybe you'd like to run after that pretty pregnant brunette…" he said it with a sneer in his voice. "I can't imagine that's your kid, being so damn young, but hey, who knows? You seemed awfully interested in her when I saw the three of you talking."
He could feel the man studying him carefully for a reaction. Shikamaru kept his poker face firmly in place, determined not to reveal that Kurenai and her baby were pretty damn high on the list of people he'd die to protect. He hoped the man couldn't hear his heart rate speed up.
"Or maybe that other little girl's the one you're more interested in protecting. She looked about your age…" He stroked his scarred chin. "I see why you'd want to make sure she got away. Those big tits would get her some real attention after the battle if she stayed here." The scarred tattoo on his face twisted into a meaningfully lewd grin.
You have no idea who you're talking about. Hinata may be shy, but she can take care of herself.
"…no?"
Shikamaru maintained his bored silence.
The man sighed dramatically. "I guess you're determined to do this the hard way, aren't you?"
More silence answered him.
"Well, kid, have it your way." The man sunk his fist into Shikamaru's unprotected stomach, and he felt all the air rush painfully out of his body and refuse to come back in.
"Tell me what those three told you."
Shikamaru struggled to catch his breath as he strained against the rope. It'd been a while since he'd taken a hit that hard and that sudden, and it hurt like hell! He fought to make his body accept oxygen again, giving the man a stony scowl.
The man cracked his knuckles slowly and deliberately, and a smirk edged its way onto his scarred face.
"I know that bitch of a hokage gave the scroll to that creepy kid in the white jacket, and I also know it wasn't on him when you talked to him. Where did he hide it?"
"I don't know."
"Oh, now you speak." The man backhanded him across the face. Hard. For a couple of seconds, the room rocked a little like a boat. "Don't lie to me, boy! You're wasting my time!"
Shikamaru pretended to still be feeling woozy from the punch.
I could stay silent, or I could keep pretending not to know. I could give him wrong information…this early in the game, though, he'd know instantly that I was lying if he's any good at all.
He kept his eyes squeezed shut as he answered and it was only partially an act. His head was pounding, even if he wasn't about to pass out. He grit his teeth against the pain.
"I don't. Know."
Another punch, this time in his ribs. Something cracked, and Shikamaru couldn't stop the grunt that escaped from his throat. Dammit!
"If you don't tell me, then one of them will. It's only a matter of time before my men catch up to them and haul their asses back here." The interrogator's voice took on a mockingly sympathetic tone. "Don't you want to spare them some pain and heartache?"
Shikamaru tried to take as deep of a breath as he could before the sharp pain of his broken rib –or ribs?- prevented his chest from expanding any further. He only glared in response to the man's prodding.
"Women break easier, you know."
Shikamaru was still processing the threat when the next punch connected with his ribs, this time on the other side. It definitely cracked at least two ribs. Shikamaru struggled to breathe and calm his racing heart rate.
"Tell me where I can find that scroll."
"I…don't…know."
"Bullshit."
An uppercut this time. The edges of his vision blurred.
Shit, this is bad! It hurts so much…but no amount of pain is going to make me tell him the scroll is in the hokage's desk…
A piece of last night's training came rushing back to him. 'Try to pass out if you can. Otherwise start thinking clinically.'
Right. Don't fight the blackness…unfortunately, he's going to have to hit me harder if that's going to work, and he seems too smart to let me pass out.
"Tell me where the scroll is."
The next blow landed just above his belt, and he found himself too busy trying not to throw up to think about passing out or distancing himself, and when the nausea passed, he was trying not to breathe any harder than his damaged ribs would allow.
"…fuck…you…"
Silence reigned for almost a full minute, save for the sound of flesh connecting solidly with flesh and the occasional grunt or choked groan.
"This isn't working, is it?"
Ah, shit. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and he wasn't sure if it was from the outside of his body or if he'd coughed it up.
"You seem to have a pretty high tolerance for pain." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, and Shikamaru focused on trying to quiet the pain that was screaming through his entire body. "I know." The man's black eyes took on an excited glint. "Maybe it's just for the blunt kind of pain. Shall we find out?"
'Oh yes, let's do!' Shikamaru resisted the urge to roll his eyes, instead opting to mentally separate himself from the incredible amount of pain he figured was going to be piled on top of his already miserable condition. Kakashi hadn't said how to get into that frame of mind…well, no time like the present, right? He knew closing his eyes would just unnecessarily piss off the man, so he found a knot in the wooden bookcase across the room to lock his gaze on.
In order…let's see. Soreness…damn. Don't know enough about how muscles work, or even why the hell I'm so freaking sore! On to the next cut…
Shikamaru's focus shifted to the wound on his thigh while his eyes stayed fixed on the bookshelf. He pictured his thigh as it would normally appear in the mirror, covered by his standard-issue black shinobi pants. Then he pictured a slit running lengthwise down the front of the right thigh, and the wound and the material both covered in dark red liquid. Under the red liquid, there was the skin and underlying flesh, symmetrical on either side. The long muscle cells of his quad muscle would be mostly intact, cut only through the translucent white fascia and maybe a couple of the cells at a slight angle.
He decided to skip the cuts on the top of both shoulders, along his arms and down the center of his chest where his shirts had been cut off.
Metal clinked against metal. Shikamaru ignored the sound.
He pictured how his ribs must look. Probably not too discolored yet, but maybe a little swollen around the breaks. On the inside, between the tough muscle and stiff cartilage that connect ribs to each other, there would be smooth curving rib with a bleeding crack running vertically across the horizontal bone. There might be more than one on that side, and on the other side, there were definitely two at least, and they might have more than just a bleeding line.
The interrogator, determined to interrupt his thoughts, slashed a long, shallow cut across the exposed expanse of Shikamaru's abdomen. He winced and held his gaze on the bookcase knothole across the room.
Those two broken ribs feel looser than the other side. The jagged edges of the bone will be grinding together, where it was attached a moment ago…
"Tell me where to find the scroll."
Do ribs have marrow? If they do, then it's probably getting rubbed onto the ends created by the breaks…
This time the man's blade bit its way slowly and shallowly down the length of his arm in a zigzag pattern. Shikamaru grit his teeth and fought to keep his body from letting any sounds escape.
If they don't have marrow, then it'll be blood pooling around the breaks…and the nerves…ah fuck, the nerves…those are going to be getting caught in between the grinding ends…that's why it hurts so fucking bad…and so damn sharp…Shikamaru's eyebrows involuntarily scrunched closer together against the pick-axe in his chest. He was panting pretty hard, which wasn't helping his hurt ribs.
On the other arm, the man traced the same pattern with whatever blade he was using. The warm blood seeping from his stomach wound was starting to trickle down his skin.
That's not deep. That's the reason it's taking so long to cover me in blood…will it scar? And do I give a damn? No. Clinical. He only slashed the skin. The bigger blood vessels run through muscle.
"Tell me what I want to know, boy!"
Same on my arms. Vessels run deep; nerves run shallow. That's why papercuts hurt so much, and why an interrogator can cause ridiculous amounts of pain without the risk of the…without the risk of me bleeding to death.
Shikamaru's ponytail jerked his head back, and he found the man invading his line of sight and holding his hair. There was a dangerous glint in his eye.
He definitely knew what he was doing.
"Who are you trying to protect, brat?"
It was a good question.
He hadn't really thought about it; the only clear thing was that the scroll did not belong in enemy hands, presumably because they would then be able to do ridiculous amounts of damage using the ice jutsu it reportedly contained. The Hokage herself was fighting hard to protect it, and the enemy had taken great risks in attacking the Hidden Village of the Leaf directly in order to obtain it. Therefore, it must be of immense importance that the enemy should go home empty-handed.
Shikamaru finally broke his disinterested expression in favor of a more defiant one, but still he said nothing.
The man's hand moved behind his back, and the sound of a weapon being sheathed whispered through the room. When the man brought his hand back into Shikamaru's line of vision, there were several slips of rectangular paper in it. A particularly gruesome grin spread across the interrogator's face and a shudder worked its way down the lazy chuunin's spine. It settled in his stomach, and a dryness settled in his mouth despite all the blood he could taste.
Oh…shit.
He fought to keep his expression defiant.
"You know what these are. I can see it in your eyes."
"Fuck off." It didn't come out nearly as assertive as he meant for it to. Something about incredible pain always drained Shikamaru of what little vehemence he had, and he was slowly resigning himself to the fact that this man would probably end up torturing him to death if he didn't tell him what he wanted to know. Unfortunately, it was still too soon to give him false information.
"Where would you like the first one?"
There had been a chapter regarding these tags during the last year at the academy, but it had only been a quick glossing-over of the topic. These were Torture Tags.
Each tag had an elaborate jutsu written on it, and in the middle there was a circle. All those years ago, Iruka-sensei had forced a light smile as he told the class that the circle was for the victim's blood. He hadn't told the class what they did; only that they were very unpleasant and to avoid them.
There was no avoiding them today.
The interrogator seemed to reach a decision. He pulled a paintbrush from one of his many hidden pockets and swished it lightly through the trail of blood on Shikamaru's abdomen, making him flinch in surprise. With painstaking care, he then set one of the tags down on the desk and painted the blood into the center of the written jutsu.
After a few seconds, he held his artwork up so that Shikamaru could see. He'd painted the blood in the familiar swirl of the Konoha symbol.
"Did I get it right?"
Shikamaru still didn't answer, but something about the man's depravity tied his stomach in a tighter knot. The man crossed the small space between the desk and the chair to slap the tag onto the back of Shikamaru's shoulder.
Why doesn't it hurt yet?
"Tell me what I want to know."
"Fuck you."
The man formed a seal and planted it on the tag, and almost instantly the younger ninja was seeing stars. He couldn't bite back the scream that tore itself from his throat as every single nerve in that particular muscle tied itself in tiny little knots and stretched and writhed and kinked, causing Shikamaru some of the most intense physical agony he'd ever experienced. A kunai through the bicep was a slap on the wrist compared to this.
He was vaguely aware of a presence beside his ear, telling him that the pain would stop if he would just give up the scroll. He ignored it.
He felt another tag being slapped onto his back, this time under his shoulder blade. He felt his screams get louder more than he heard them, and there was nothing he could do to hold them back. The first tag didn't stop its torment, and the second one matched them.
With what little coherent thought he could summon, he searched for something completely benign to think about. Not Kurenai, not the scroll, not the battle or the dead ninja already littering the streets of Konoha. No.
Koi. The koi pond he wanted to build. Someday, when he moved out of his parents' house, he would get an apartment and put a koi pond on the balcony.
A third tag joined the first two, and this one was on the opposite shoulder from the first one. He could feel tears stinging his eyes, and he no longer gave a damn about trying to stop his screams.
Koi. And clouds. Clouds shaped like koi.
After he'd lost all sense of time, he was vaguely aware that the first tag had stopped causing him so much pain.
Then, the others…
"Tell me where the scroll is!"
"Fuck you!" Shikamaru didn't care that his voice was ragged from the abuse and intensity of the screams. He was well beyond feigning indifference now, and he didn't give a rat's ass who heard his voice crack under the strain of more volume.
The second tag's agony was starting to fade, leaving an acute ripping sensation in its wake to match the first but nowhere near the intensity of the still-active third tag.
The man attached one more tag, this time on the right side of his chest. His pectoral muscle screamed in terror and agony at him, but he focused on the pain itself to keep from thinking about anything else.
Finally, after what seemed like years but was really only about six minutes, the fourth tag also died. Shikamaru sat panting hard, not caring that his face was wet with tears and his lip was bleeding heavily from where he must have bitten it.
There was a sickeningly cheery smile on the interrogator's face.
"Agony is a good look on you, kid. I like it." He paused, tilting his head slightly to the side and crossing his arms. "Ready to talk yet?"
If glares could kill, the interrogator would have turned to ash in about one tenth of a second. Shikamaru sucked up the metallic-tasting red syrup gathering in his mouth and spit it out on the floor. He didn't break eye contact with the interrogator, and he couldn't tell that expelling the blood had made any difference in the quantity still in his mouth, but at least it made him feel a little better.
The interrogator seemed unfazed by his defiant attitude and just stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Well sweetheart, you might break if we did that long enough, but…I'm in a bit of a hurry. We'll try something a little more…permanent." He grinned, and Shikamaru didn't even bother to wonder what might be next. He really didn't want to find out.
The man reached behind him to retrieve the weapon he'd been using earlier, and Shikamaru's eyes widened against his will when he saw one of Asuma's chakra blades in the man's hand. "That's right, I'm using your own weapons." He held it up and inspected it with nonchalance. "Unusual piece, but elegant. I like it." He flicked his gaze from the blade in his hand to Shikamaru's face. "Sentimental value, right?"
Shikamaru didn't answer, and the man laughed.
"Whatever, kid. Go on and pretend that I can't read you like a book, if that's what makes you feel better."
He walked over to stand in front of Shikamaru, weapon in hand. He reached his free hand back around to grab the lazy genius's pony tail, yanking his head back.
"You strike me as the listening type." The tip of the blade dragged from his collarbone up to his chin, and Shikamaru regretted sharpening it to such a perfect point. "I think your ears will be first."
The next thing he knew, there was a searing bite into his earlobe. He strained against the ropes and grit his teeth against the scream in his throat, but he only succeeded in muffling it a little. He could feel something warm and sticky –blood- flowing down the side of his neck.
The man held up the bloody chunk of flesh he'd just cut for Shikamaru to see. His small black hoop earring was still in it, and he clenched his eyes tightly shut.
That may have been a mistake, he realized a second later when he felt the same bite cut into the top of the same ear. A moment later, a triangle of skin-covered cartilage joined the chunk of earlobe in the man's hand.
"That doesn't grow back, you know." The man's voice was light and conversational.
When I get out of here, you're going to die.
"You seem like an understanding kind of guy. I've been wanting to make an artistic tribute to all my informants –I think you'd like it. It's going to be a very realistic piece, made from pieces of them." He held up the two chunks of Shikamaru's ear. "After these, I'm only missing one thing…well, actually, two."
Oh shit. His knees tried to draw toward each other, but the ropes prevented it. The man laughed heartily.
"Nice guess, kid, but I doubt you're old enough to have a set of those even if I had been talking about that." He leaned down to speak in a lower voice. "What makes you think I'd want your balls, Beautiful? Now, your tight little ass, on the other hand…if you keep me here much longer, I'm going to need to relieve some stress."
Shikamaru's eyes widened in realization and his heart dropped almost to the floor, it felt like. Fuuuuck. That's what Kakashi-sensei was talking about…the sub-category of pride…he wasn't just talking about castration…he was talking about…rape.
He tried his best to keep the fear out of his eyes and his breathing normal. Which was damn hard considering all the pain he was still feeling.
"Actually, kid, the two things my collection is missing are eyebrows."
Shikamaru felt the edge of the chakra blade against his temple and swallowed. He briefly wondered how badly it would sting to get blood in his eyes, but he tried not to show any weakness.
"Tell me what I want to know."
"Fuck. You."
The blade had just bitten into his skin when the door opened, and in the next instant the chakra blade was reverberating in the wood of the doorframe, only inches from a foreign chuunin's head.
"What!" The interrogator shouted, extremely displeased to be interrupted. Shikamaru opened his eyes to find the interrupter's eyes locked on him, and his young innocent face registering shock. He recovered quickly and bowed deeply, answering in the too-fast voice of a nervous underling.
"Sorry sir, but we've captured the ones you sent us after."
The interrogator's rage melted from his face to be replaced by a large grin. Shikamaru fought the urge to vomit. As much as it hurt him to admit it, he'd rather take the rape himself than see any of them abused –especially the two kunoichi.
"Good job. Bring in the girl and the freak."
"H-Hai." Then the boy was gone.
The interrogator turned back to Shikamaru, grin still firmly in place.
"Now we get to see how strong your friends are, or if they're as stubborn as you. Unless you want to spare them…Tell me where they hid the scroll."
For a couple of seconds, Shikamaru considered it. He didn't want to see Hinata or Shino in the kind of pain he'd already experienced, and Kurenai and her baby…
No. He may be bluffing. And if he's not, then…maybe when they get in here we can find a way to escape. And kami only knows how many lives are on the line if he gets his hands on that scroll…Why can't I remember the fucking training from last night?!
"I. Don't. Know."
The man punched him again in the stomach and more blood spattered from his mouth to stain his pants when he strained forward against the ropes.