Post Konoha Crush Interlude Part II: Dosu Kinuta

Dosu had lost track of how many days had passed since he was confined to this bleak cell.

It had all started with Orochimaru's betrayal—a revelation that rendered every sacrifice, every drop of loyalty, utterly meaningless. They were sent to the Chuunin Exams under the pretense of eliminating Sasuke Uchiha, only to discover that their true purpose was far more sinister. Sasuke wasn't a target. He was a chosen one, marked with Orochimaru's Curse Mark, a symbol of the snake's twisted favor and a fragment of his immense power.

At one point, Dosu had desired that mark himself.

That ambition now felt laughable. They weren't there to kill Sasuke but to die by his hands—a test to measure the potential of Orochimaru's latest pet. They were disposable, pawns on a sacrificial altar, and even in that grim role, they had failed. Not because of Sasuke, but because of her.

Her.

The Kunoichi who haunted his nightmares.

Even now, Dosu could recall the icy dread that had gripped him when he first encountered her. She wasn't like the others. Her power, her presence—it was overwhelming, and far more terrifying than Sasuke's burgeoning strength. He remembered Zaku's crude remarks about her, Kin's envious sneers, the petty loathing they all shared as she and her team humiliated them during the first test. The insults she hurled at them then, calling them weaklings from a backwater village, stung more than he cared to admit. Even Dosu had nursed a flicker of hatred, a desire to see her bleed for her arrogance.

The opportunity had come during the second test in the Forest of Death. They cornered her alone. Sasuke and her other teammate were unconscious, their strength drained, leaving her the sole line of defense. Even as she stood against them, refusing to abandon her comrades, Dosu had briefly admired her resolve. She fought without hesitation, equal parts ferocity and precision.

And then, everything went wrong.

She overwhelmed them. Completely.

Dosu shuddered, his throat tightening as the memories surged back. He had felt the searing pain of her blade as it maimed his right arm. He saw Zaku's screams as she severed his arms with a brutal, unflinching strike. Kin's defiance earned her a savage backhand that sent her sprawling into the dirt.

But the worst—the worst was the interrogation.

The river water felt like icy claws against his skin as she shoved his head beneath the surface, her demands echoing in his ears. Every time he gasped for air, she forced him back under. Zaku's cries of agony rang out, her voice cutting through like steel as she tore him apart, piece by piece, belittling him for his weakness, his inability to protect his comrades.

Kin fared no better. Her defiance was met with cold, calculated malice. The kunoichi's poison seeped into their wounds, festered within their bodies, and consumed them from the inside out.

Dosu could still hear their screams.

The agony.

The futility.

He had always believed that Orochimaru was the pinnacle of cruelty, the epitome of a predator. But she... she was different. There was no grandeur, no twisted sense of honor. Her actions were clinical, brutal, and deeply personal. She didn't just kill them. She dismantled them, physically and mentally, piece by agonizing piece.

Even now, in this cell, Dosu couldn't look at a glass of water without feeling like he was drowning again.

But the woman had shown him mercy—or perhaps it was cruel mercy. Tossing him a kunai, she told him in a cold, detached voice that he knew what he needed to do to spare himself the agonizing death his teammates had suffered. Then, just as callously, she told him to leave.

He felt like a coward, but he took the chance. He ran, abandoning the twisted corpses of Zaku and Kin, barely sparing a thought for what would become of their remains. As for his arm?

He glanced at the stump where his right arm had once been. He'd taken her advice on that too.

Not long after, the Konoha-nin found him and threw him into this cell. They weren't cruel jailors—there were no beatings, no torture. He was fed adequate meals, and they seemed content to let him waste away as an armless, broken man.

Sometime after his capture, an interrogator had come to question him about Orochimaru, about Otogakure, and about other matters he had thought irrelevant. The monstrous kunoichi's words echoed in his mind during those sessions—her taunts, her probing questions about the invasion, about Orochimaru's plans to harm her village.

In the end, he told them everything he knew. What else was there to lose? Perhaps he felt a small, vindictive satisfaction in aiding Konoha against Orochimaru, his supposed master. He even mentioned the kunoichi's interest in a particular name: Kabuto Yakushi. Perhaps that detail would help foil Orochimaru's machinations.

But after that, nothing. The days stretched into eternity, and Dosu had only the unyielding walls of his cell for company.

Until today.

The faint creak of the cell door broke the oppressive silence. Squinting against the sudden influx of light, Dosu turned toward the figure stepping inside. It was a man he recognized: the scarred proctor from the first stage of the Chuunin Exams. The head of Konoha's Torture and Interrogation Division.

"Ibiki-sama," Dosu rasped.

"Hello, Kinuta-kun," Ibiki said, his eyes appraising as he crossed his arms. "You're eating well?"

"As well as one can in here," Dosu replied cautiously. "But you didn't come to ask about my diet, did you?"

"You're right." Ibiki grunted, his tone flat. He regarded Dosu in silence, a stillness so heavy it felt suffocating. Unable to bear it, Dosu broke the quiet.

"I've already told you everything I know," he said, his voice rising slightly. "About Orochimaru, Otogakure—everything. I have nothing more to give, so just… let me rot in peace."

Ibiki didn't respond immediately, letting Dosu's words hang in the air before he finally spoke. "There's someone here who wants to see you."

"What?" Dosu blinked. "Who?"

"The Hokage," Ibiki said. "Behave yourself. Remember the clemency our village has extended to you."

The Hokage? What could he possibly want with someone like Dosu?

Nodding wordlessly, Dosu adjusted his posture, sitting straighter. Ibiki stepped back, shutting the cell door behind him. Muffled voices came from outside, but soon the door slid open again.

The light was blinding at first. When Dosu's eyes adjusted, he saw the figure of a man stepping inside. He carried a cane, his body bandaged and scarred. His one exposed eye fixed on Dosu with an intensity that made him feel small.

"Much thanks, Ibiki," the man said in a low, deliberate voice. "I'll take it from here."

"As you wish, Hokage-sama."

"Acting Hokage," the man corrected. "The Hokage is not dead yet."

"Of course," Ibiki replied, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him.

For the first time, light illuminated the confines of Dosu's cell. The man stepped forward, the faint shuffle of his cane marking each step.

"Dosu Kinuta," the man said, his voice steady and calm. "My name is Danzo Shimura, Acting Hokage of Konoha. And today, I offer you a gift."

Dosu blinked, his mind racing. "A gift?"

Danzo's visible eye glimmered, his expression unreadable. "An opportunity," he said, his tone almost fatherly. "An opportunity to make yourself useful. To make something of yourself."