Note: when I refer to someone as a group member, I mean that they're a member of Whisper Group. I'm half-tempted to call them Groupies XD
CHAPTER 12
The day of the Auction
"This sword doesn't leave my side," Zabuza snarled, crossing his arms and looming over the impassive gangster. The shorter man adjusted his dark shades and sniffed a little, not at all intimidated.
Gato had already gone ahead with another guard, not patient enough to wait for the issue with Zabuza and his sword to be resolved. The hydraulic elevator built inside the well dinged and another crime boss was escorted onto the elevator by a suited Whisper Group member, standing on the elevator alongside the crime boss and his three guards to show how much weight the makeshift elevator could take.
The cold of the outside didn't penetrate the large tent spanning several metres wide, and the people waiting behind Zabuza and Haku were escorted to other lines to be searched for weapons and other contraband, and guided to wait for the sole elevator.
All of the weapons collected from the visitors were kept in separate bins, all labelled with the names of the owners and their bosses.
Whisper Group kept everything moving.
Haku grabbed Zabuza's left elbow and whispered heatedly, "You've thrown your swords hundreds of times. How is this different?"
Zabuza harshly yanked his arm from the boy's grip, saying, "This and that are completely different."
Three more people from the elusive group joined their resolute comrade, straightening their black suits and standing with their hands at their backs, forming a wall that stayed strong underneath Zabuza's intense stare.
The security guard that was attending to Zabuza and Haku shrugged. "Rules are rules; visitors aren't allowed weapons on auction grounds." His face turned to Haku and the effeminate boy's lips tightened into a thin line, sighing wearily and marching to the guard. A female guard behind the first guided Haku a few steps away and motioned for the boy to stand upright with his arms apart. The boy did so without argument, casting a pleading look to Zabuza. The guard speaking to Zabuza hummed. "Well?"
Instead, Zabuza took a full step to the guard and growled in a dark voice, "What if I just kill everyone here, storm your auction, and steal everything? Hm?"
The guard was unmoved, craning his neck a little bit back to look up at the tall swordsman. "I do not doubt that you can easily kill me. Matter of fact, you can kill me before any of my people can react, but after you do that, you'll die in the worst way imaginable." Muttering this, more Whisper Group members steadily gathered around Zabuza, standing either with their hands at their backs or their hands holding their sheathed weapons. The searching and escorting of guests continued as if it were never interrupted. "Then we'd have three Swords of the Mist to auction off."
"So, it's true," Haku blurted, trying to diffuse the tense situation. For an eight-year-old, he was becoming adept at diverting attention to himself. He unloaded his tanto into a bin and busily scribbled his name on the bin. "Your group has Samehada and the Needle Sword…"
"Yes." The guard nodded in confirmation, taking some of the wind out of Zabuza's sails.
Zabuza was an undisputed A-rank ninja, but Kisame and Kushimaru deserved S-rank and A-rank respectively. That meant that Whisper Group had the sheer firepower and skill to kill two powerful ninjas.
Zabuza pushed to come to the auction to confirm the deaths of his former comrades.
"How are we to believe you people didn't just pick those swords from the ground?" Haku pressed, pulling the aggressive attention off Zabuza and onto himself.
"We don't care what you believe," the first guard answered, keeping his shaded eyes on Zabuza. The swordsman had his eyes closed and was pinching the bridge of his nose, staving off the glaze of tears that wanted to film his eyes. "Just know that our boss," he motioned around to the two dozen group members standing ready around Zabuza, "didn't skimp on training us on how to handle Swordsmen of the Mist."
Haku pleaded again, "Zabuza—"
"Fine." Zabuza spat. He reached a hand over his shoulder and carefully popped the long head cleaver off the strong magnetic holster between his shoulders. The group members lowered into fighting stances, some pulling out their blades and holding them at the ready.
"Good decision," the first guard said, holding out his hands.
Zabuza deftly lifted the sword with one hand and brought the flat end down on his other hand. All the while, the first guard didn't so much as tremble, patiently holding out his hands.
Zabuza dropped the sword on the man's hand, satisfied with the slight grunt of effort when the full weight of the legendary blade settled on the guard's hands.
"If there's so much as a scratch, I'm using your blood to fix it," he said in a deep tone, standing over the guard holding his sword.
"Mhm." The other man hummed, stepping away and passing the sword onto a larger, burlier group member. The larger man had his jaw wired shut and his black, beady eyes peered intensely at Zabuza until the first guard coughed for his attention. The larger group member easily collected the sword with one hand, taking it and setting it on his shoulder. The first guard turned and said to Zabuza, wearing a half-smile, "It's too big to be placed in a bin, you see."
"Don't mess with me, you lowlife." Zabuza spat, his temper visibly rising, more so when he was being patted down by a male group member for other weapons.
A minute later, Zabuza and Haku, painfully unarmed, were allowed onto the elevator. A group member didn't accompany them as they descended into the auction hall.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
A pair of pink eyes locked on Zabuza and Haku as they entered the auction hall.
A thoughtful frown crossed her face and she wrinkled her nose.
A group member about her height leaned to her and whispered, "What do you think?"
"The others handled it well." Lio wore a sickly-sweet smile and waved when Haku's eyes met hers. The boy's eyes furrowed with deep suspicion. He hesitantly raised his hand at the girl across the room sending him a friendly smile and wave, waving back to her. "Zabuza's less temperamental than Kisame. I'm amazed."
The group member with her sniggered.
"I wonder if we can't just kill him in his sleep and claim his sword…" Naruto's guardian angel wondered aloud, her smiling expression still present and her neon pink eyes alight with false warmth as she refused to take her eyes off Haku. The boy looked away and shuffled after Zabuza to a seat close to Gato of Gato Company.
"The sword is already with us. Why don't we just keep it?" the group member asked.
A third group member brought down a fist on the speaker's head, eliciting an offended yowl and a scowl. The third group member said, "The previous holder needs to be killed by the present holder. The sword's full potential won't be activated otherwise."
The second group member pouted, rubbing his head. "You didn't have to hit me…"
Lio wasn't paying attention to their antics, saying to them, "Master wants that sword." She smiled and slightly dipped her head in a curtsy when a guest passed by, receiving a large, toothy grin in return.
Lio masterfully masked her disgust at the look in the visitor's eyes, and her smile turned into a quiet snarl as the woman was guided to a seat a short distance from them.
Anyone that was anyone was there, populated mostly by criminals of various professions and some corrupt government officials who were tied to the criminal underworld.
Lio spotted Doton Kazahana, Daimyo of Snow Country, sitting close to the front of the hall with a small entourage of officials with him. He and his people were searched thoroughly, like everyone else, and he was disarmed completely. Thankfully for him, the Daimyo didn't make a fuss.
The son of the Fire Daimyo was there with his cousin, the Heiress to the Yukihara fortune, a prominent family that had obtained their wealth through shady deals and crude oil exploration. There were rumours that the Fire Daimyo's son and the Yukihara heiress were betrothed, and had a child out of wedlock, but the families had not confirmed anything.
An infamous human trafficker was mingling in the middle of the hall, wearing a plain white mask with no eye holes. They came alone, and with a heavy suitcase of money that never left their hands.
Lio jammed eyes with the green eyes of Kakuzu of Hidden Waterfall, exchanging slight nods and facing away.
Kakuzu's greed was well-known in the underworld.
On a few occasions, group members had crossed paths with Kakuzu during missions to capture and cash in missing ninjas. These encounters never resulted in fights or bloodshed, rather group members conceded their captured ninjas in exchange for future favours from Kakuzu.
Whisper Group valued favours, almost as much as they valued blackmail.
On cue, the speakers embedded in the walls howled briefly with static, before an eloquent voice spoke over the excited din of the underworld denizens.
"Welcome, dear guests, to this once-in-a-lifetime event! Be reminded of the rules of this esteemed gathering. The Whisper Group intends to have a smooth and successful event, with your support." There was a brief pause, filled with the low hum of static. "Violence of any kind will not be tolerated. Unmedicated drugs are strictly prohibited outside of the confines of your accommodations, and any outburst under the influence will be removed and blacklisted."
The undertones of that last statement were not lost on anybody.
Not only would it be inconvenient to be thrown out of the auction area into the cold, but their name was also going to be tarnished in the continent's criminal underworld.
Whisper Group was still an anomaly, so no one outside of the group could confirm or deny anything concerning their global influence.
"If on the occasion you misplace the access key to your accommodations, quickly locate the nearest group member and the lock on your accommodation will be promptly changed. You are also discouraged from conducting hits on these premises; this is a safe space, and any defaulter will be erased."
A sudden hush flooded the entire area, and they all turned to the speakers, shocked at the bluntness of the announcement.
"Finally, be reminded that purchases below five hundred thousand ryu will be made in cash. For purchases above five hundred thousand, an account will be provided for the funds to be wired into. Transfer receipts and verification of funds will be confirmed before an exchange of products is made. Rest assured, all matters will be settled on or before the end of this momentous, two-week event!" Conversation in the auction gradually began anew, speaking in low drones between themselves; crime bosses chatted about businesses and other denizens of the continent's underworld waited patiently for the auction to begin. "Thank you for listening, and happy bidding!"
Group members in formal white shirts, black pants, white gloves, and black dress shoes walked out from the accommodations area, outside the auction hall, carrying trays of champagne glasses, rice wine, gin, and water. Other waiters deftly and politely threaded the crowd with trays of food and water, walking between chairs and politely excusing themselves into conversations to ask if the guests wanted to request anything.
Lio excused herself from her comrades and walked with fluid steps to Zabuza and Haku, casually arranging her waiter's uniform and pulling her beanie down over her ears.
Haku saw her approach before she arrived, wearing an expression of one that wanted so much to leave his seat for anywhere across the hall. He stayed seated, though, and a visible ripple of goosebumps rippled through him at the sweet smile Lio gave him, her eyes nearly closed as she genially bowed.
"Good morning, sirs. Would you like anything?"
Zabuza grunted, sending a side eye at her. Before Gato could raise his voice and make an order, a different group member rounded on him and waited for the stout man to make his request, diverting Gato from Lio.
Haku, meanwhile, gave Lio a familiar smile. "Water will be fine. Thank you."
"And you, sir?"
Instead, Zabuza looked at Lio with clear irritation. "What are you? Some sort of debt slave?"
Lio's smile became tighter, masking her impatience. "What do you mean, sir?"
"Did your parents sell you to these people to pay off a debt? You're too young to be down here with these low lives."
"The group members are the only family I know," she responded in an eerily light voice, tucking her hands behind her back and letting her edginess roll off her shoulders like air. Her countenance brightened and she regarded Zabuza with contempt. "We're all here on our free will. But are you?" Lio glanced at Haku as she directly asked him that question, ignoring the stone-faced stare Zabuza gave her. She bowed with a friendly smile to Haku. "I'll get you that water, sir. Excuse me."
"Mouthy brat," she heard Zabuza grumble as she left.
Lio pointed at a group member carrying a tray of water and jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, receiving a nod in confirmation afterwards. The group member changed the direction of their walk and went to Zabuza and Haku, leaning down and providing a glass of water to Haku, leaving immediately after before Zabuza could say anything.
Not that the man wanted to speak, or look, at the group member.
Everyone's eyes were drawn to the stage, where a stocky, plain-faced man in a suit walked out from the curtains on the stage and stood behind the podium, setting a heavy book on the podium and adjusting his wire-rimmed glasses. He had to shift the gavel aside a little to make room for the book.
He tapped the microphone, speaking into it, "Testing, testing." He cleared his throat and opened the book. "Welcome again to our esteemed guests. Our Master wishes to extend his apologies for not personally appearing here, but he values his privacy—"
Doton spoke in a loud voice from his seat, wearing a slight grin, "Is he even here? It's very rude to not welcome his guests himself!"
A round of sniggering laughs rippled from Doton's people, but not many people joined. Anyone who did quickly wiped the humour from their expressions and sat up. Rightfully so, since they were firmly on Whisper Group turf, the group possessed mysterious firepower and authority in the continent's black market. They had stolen from six ultra-rich families and bankrupted them completely, all in a week and some days.
Besides, they were here to buy the priceless stolen products from the group.
Laughing could mean poking a sleeping bear.
"Settle down, please," the auctioneer said, ignoring Doton's goading in favour of looking to his left. A curtain lifted and a marble bust was wheeled out on a trolley, set front and centre of the stage. The guests checked under their seats and found their assigned bid cards. The auctioneer looked down at the book on the podium and read from it, "This is the marble bust of the First Raikage, Kota Tsubasa. Recovered and authenticated. Bidding starts at fifty thousand ryu. Can I get fifty-five—"
A card was raised.
The auctioneer pointed at the person, saying, "Fifty-five. Can I get sixty—"
Another card shot up.
"Sixty. Can I get sixty-five?" there was a short lull, and the man fired on. "Going once—" a card was raised close to the end of the hall, and heated murmuring passed around the hall. "Sixty. Sixty-five—" another card. "Sixty-five. Seventy…" The murmuring increased, and the faces of the bidders twisted with indecision. The authenticity of the bust wasn't in question; it was worthless outside of historical fanatics, and the ultra-rich, so no more cards were raised. "Going once. Going twice." Bang! "Sold! To the madam in the fancy hat!"
A round of clapping ensued, and the auctioneer wiped away beads of sweat from his brow, noting down the final bidder's card number in his book and attaching it to the bust, ticking it off as purchased.
The bust was wheeled away and an abstract painting replaced it. The auctioneer said, "Here we have a painting made by a nameless Demon Country royal. Rumoured to bring luck to its owners, we'll start the bidding at one hundred thousand ryu…"
The auction continued, with the auctioneer rapidly firing off bids.
The heaters in the venue worked hard to regulate the temperature, balancing the cold howling outside with the heat inside, making it neither too hot nor too cold.
Group members assigned to be waiters worked diligently.
Those directed to be security guards watched with keen eyes.
In the background, everyone had a role, and they performed their roles to the letter, working in tandem like a well-oiled machine.
Madara Uchiha watched the fluid rotation of group members, all armed to the teeth whether they were waiters or guards, and his lips screwed down into a deep frown, contemplating his next steps.
If the rumours were true, the boss of the group had killed Kisame and the boss's right hand wasn't even human; he needed to go about his plan carefully. He wasn't as young as he used to be and he couldn't verify the firepower of the group members themselves.
And if being careful didn't work, he could just go all out. Subtlety be damned. He wanted so much to throw all caution to the wind and use the second option but stilled himself.
Let's see what you've got, Whisper Group. A secretive grin spread on his face. Make this worth my time.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
In the accommodations area for group members, One was wasting away.
She had not eaten or drank water for the past ten days.
She laid listlessly on the ground of her bedroom, looking blearily at a steaming plate of chicken soup and a cup of water. She licked her lips and shut her eyes, murmuring a prayer under her breath and searching for her faith in the doctrine she grew up believing wholeheartedly.
The food was within reach of her hands, always available for her to eat, but she made no move to pull it to her.
"It doesn't make sense…" she whispered in a scratchy voice, inhaling and exhaling weakly. "Master…could never hate us…"
Naruto knelt close to her. Dried tear tracks marked his cheeks and his red-rimmed eyes glowered at his stubborn sister. He sniffed wetly and wiped his leaky nose with the back of his nose, saddened more so when One's breathing became haggard for a moment.
"You saw how he looked at me." Naruto's hands moved limply, tired from pleading with her. "He wanted me to die."
"I…I can't…believe that…" One murmured, heaving and trying to shake her head, but unable to move. "It…doesn't make sense…"
Naruto gave up convincing her of what she saw herself that night and brought the bowl of food closer to his sister and propped her weak body up against his knees, struggling to wrap an arm around her to keep her upright while stirring the soup with a spoon in his other hand.
He fetched a little soup into the spoon, neatly lifting it to her mouth, only for the girl to screw her lips shut and wearily turn her face away. The soup smudged against her chin. "No…"
Naruto sniffed again, groaning in frustration. Her hunger strike had gotten to his last nerve.
"I want…to go home…"
Naruto sobbed, signing with increasing annoyance. "You need to eat! Please!"
"I'm tired, brother." One sighed. Her shoulders wilted lower and her breathing became less laboured. "I want…us…to go home…please…"
Naruto wanted so much to understand her position; she had grown up, like him, believing in the benevolence and strict love of their master. He had moulded all of CORE into tools of war and conquest, and their sole existence revolved around rebuilding Konoha in Danzo's image. He taught them that they were a single unit—a family—and that they all succeeded and failed as a unit.
The suffering of one was the suffering of all.
That was the only belief system they knew.
It was the CORE way of life.
The boy dropped the spoon in the bowl and clutched his sister in his arms, hugging her tightly and wrenching his eyes shut as he fought against the wave of anguish beating his heart.
He didn't know what to do.
He suddenly pushed her away from him, not caring how she hit the ground, and got to his feet. He stormed to the door and turned around to face his sister, who stared after him with droopy, sleepy eyes.
His face was twisted with anger and sadness, snapping at her. "You want me to die that badly? Fine!"
"Brother…please, no…"
"No! That's what you want, right?!" He signed harshly and stomped two steps to her, but she didn't move, too weak to sit up and only looked up at him with glazed eyes. "You keep denying what you saw with your own eyes, making me think I'm crazy—"
"I don't—"
"I know what I saw!" he jabbed his chest with his pointer finger. His eyes were wild with anger and stormy emotions. He pointed at his listless sister. "You know what you saw! And yet, you insist that I die at his hands! Because of what?!"
She drowsily shook her head, freely crying as her brother exploded on her with all of the pent-up rage and grief building in his chest since the day he fled from ROOT. He released this vitriol on his sister. She hiccupped and mumbled incoherently, pleading to her brother to listen to her.
"Because I have to die at his hands?! His hands?!" spittle hurtled from his voiceless mouth as he sharply and angrily signed, "I gave my everything to him! My blood, my sweat, my soul, and my entire being! I let myself suffer for him! For the good of ROOT and the good of Konoha!" he fervently touched his bandaged throat, hiding the hideous scar he sustained from his unfortunate spar with Kakashi all that time ago. "Remember this? I might still be able to talk if he let the medics heal me, but no! I deserved to have my voice taken from me." He spat with toxic sarcasm. "You were all fine with that!"
"I was never…fine with it…" she breathed, shakily getting her hands under her and pushing. Her limbs trembled as she sat up, sitting back on her heels and looking up at her red-faced brother with a weeping look. "I begged him…. Everyone did."
"And look where we are now," Naruto hissed sardonically. "Sandy bruises his shin after a mission, and the whole base is on red alert. Wheelie has an upset stomach, and the medic bay is shut down only for him." He touched his throat again. "My throat is crushed, and I'm left to suffer…" he motioned flippantly at his sister, his pale eyes eying her with disdain. "And you want me to go back home. You want me to face him…"
"Brother, I'm sorry…" One cried freely, gripping her chest and squeezing her shirt in her hold. Her teeth were gnashed as she sobbed. "None of us wanted this."
Naruto slowly deflated, his face still a deep shade of red and his glazed eyes weeping tears. He only looked down at her with discontent, and this shattered One. Her hands reached out for him, and the boy shut his eyes, releasing a heavy sigh and collapsing onto his knees.
He looked at his bandaged hands, feeling the blips of pain from the burst chakra points in his hands, remembering all he had suffered during his training while his siblings had it easy.
The scars on his hands weren't healed; his siblings were promptly healed after the illegal chakra exercise so they didn't have any scars, but he was left to bear the pain of burst chakra points alone.
His weapons and clothes were old and thirdhand, while his siblings were provided with the newest clothes and sharpest blades.
After spars, medics weren't permitted to heal him of his wounds, leaving Naruto's recuperation in his own hands, while his siblings were treated for even the littlest nicks. He had to learn to return with little to no injuries.
He was never given thirty minutes of break after a daunting mission, but rather was quickly shipped back out onto the field, suffering from acute chakra exhaustion but still made to perform at optimal levels on the field. Meanwhile, his siblings were allowed two days to cool down in between missions.
He was forced to learn a risky fighting style that prioritised counterattacks and strikes, allowing himself to get hit with a myriad of hard blows and not knowing how to block them, while his siblings were given a more well-rounded taijutsu training. It was only by his intuition during missions that Naruto forced himself to alter his fighting style, at risk of receiving a blow in the future that he would not be able to recover from.
A tear fell on his hands.
And even at that and everything he suffered; he served Danzo loyally.
He loved his siblings with his whole heart and his whole mind.
One's hands unsteadily found his, and the boy reflexively curled their hands together, swallowing thickly and clenching his eyes shut as the memories bombarded him.
All this time, he didn't allow himself to dwell on the injustices he suffered in ROOT, pushing onwards with building Whisper Group and being a reliable friend to Lio. He wanted answers so badly that he nearly failed to see how bad his life was compared to his siblings.
Slowly, One pulled him into a hug. Holding together the pieces of his heart that were falling apart.
The boy soaked in her warmth, his hands still held out and frozen by his mind.
Naruto's face then twisted with renewed anger, and he shoved his sister away. Her shocked eyes locked on his resolute, spiteful stare. He got up and signed to her, "I need some air."
"Nine-Nine, wait…"
But he walked out of the room and slammed the door shut.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Room 12
Konoha's Psychiatric Facility
The clock ticked in the background of the session, breaking the thoughtful silence with its rhythmic ticks.
Inoichi sat in his chair, facing the other chair intently. His writing pad was in his left hand and his pencil jotted down words on the pad, occasionally flicking his eyes up from his writing to look at Kakashi.
The boy leaned heavily to the right, looking past Inoichi at a particular spot on the wall. His lips were a little bit open and his hands regularly gripped the arms of his chair, twitching his feet every so often but unable to move them properly. His orange mask was tied around his neck, and not covering his lower face.
"The drugs…" Kakashi slurred under his breath, breathing in and out. He blinked his eyes closed and slowly corrected himself, "Medication…" he scoffed, releasing a light breath from his mouth and shaking his head. "It doesn't turn off my thoughts…. It doesn't reduce the noise in my head. Not even a little bit." Inoichi frowned and paused his writing, attentively staring at his patient. He didn't find any amusement in Kakashi's confession, but the boy did. His shoulders jerked twice in a breathy, chuckling exhale. "More like…it slows down my mind, so I can hear every voice clearer. Every…single…voice." Kakashi's lethargic expression didn't change, even as he released another brief, wheezing laugh. "It clarifies my hate, fills the cracks in my heart with burning tar and acid."
A chill ran up Inoichi's spine at the words spoken by the thirteen-year-old. Kakashi was an avid reader; his vocabulary could be from the extensive books he had studied. Inoichi's hand stilled. "And, who do you hate, Kakashi?"
Kakashi scoffed, swaying to the other side and shaking his head. "My brother."
Inoichi's eyes furrowed, confused. "You don't have a brother…"
The boy shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah…. I forgot. Sorry." His sluggish, distinct thoughts sloshed a wave of letters into his lips, spilling from his mouth as he said, "It's complicated."
"We have time."
"Not nearly enough," Kakashi said, scoffing and slowly turning his eyes to Inoichi. "Besides, I don't feel like talking anymore."
With that, Kakashi's silver stare moved from Inoichi and fixed back on that single spot on the wall behind the man.
Inoichi frowned and sat back, disappointed at how quickly Kakashi had withdrawn back into himself. The medication was only supposed to keep him docile, not turn him into a mumbling zombie, and the boy still maintained his prodigious mind despite his docility.
Inoichi recalled that his search into Kakashi's past was fruitless; large chunks of Kakashi's past were gone, either redacted from public records or erased, specifically between the time Kakashi's father committed suicide to when Kakashi became a genin at eight years old.
There were also no records of Kakashi having a sibling.
"Your mind needs an outlet," Inoichi said out loud, assuming that Kakashi's brother was a figment of the boy's imagination. He turned to his side and picked up a notebook from the table near him. He tucked his pencil into the notebook and got up, putting the book into Kakashi's hands, and helping the boy curl his fingers around the notebook. "We'll continue in the evening."
Inoichi walked to the door and Kakashi's eyes slowly dipped to the book.
His numb fingers fumbled, feeling the book and wincing minutely at the sharpness of the edge of each page. The book flipped open to the last page, and in big, bold letters were written the words:
YOUR PAST IS A LIE
SEEK THE TRUTH
LOCATE THE ROOT ARCHIVES
Kakashi snapped the notebook shut and was promptly hoisted onto his feet by two orderlies.
Authors note
That's it for this chapter.
See you when I see you.
Foy.