Night 52: Bus Unloading Area
[from here]As they stepped outside, Kratos took a deep breath, taking a moment to savor the feeling of fresh air, even though it was still tainted with the silent evil that surrounded the institute. Then, moment finished, he returned to the task at hand
( Read more... )
"If you can stop it, you had better not decide it's too much work." Though her tone was harsh, Temari trusted Shikamaru's ability in this instance. He had been good enough to outthink her, three years before the age he was now, and presumably had only gotten better since. She trusted him to help them win whatever fight they were about to face now for those reasons.
Yet maybe there was more they could hope for, and Temari grinned with greater confidence as she saw what Gaara was doing. "So you can use your chakra? That's good." One less worry for Temari: her brother wouldn't be completely helpless.
Reply
"Wait," he repeated. It didn't take much effort to feel the shadows changing, growing stronger and shifting into something beyond his control. What then? A flash of fire crackled behind his eyes but he tried to ignore it, let it pass. What then, if the institute unleashed its full power? The other two were helpless, unprepared. When he felt Temari's fingers loosen, he gripped her wrist before she could let her hand drop.
At the distant edge of his consciousness, whatever faculty he had for long-term planning told him that if the three of them survived the night, he'd be lucky to survive breakfast.
"Only at night," he said in response to the conversation. Then, quickly turning his full attention to Gaara, "If you try to use it during the day, they'll confiscate it." In spite of everything, it was reassuring to know that the young Sand-nin (don't think Kazekage, can't think Kazekage, need to keep the timelines straight) had some defense. At a later time, he'd need to test the latent power that normally protected the boy, but not now. Not when danger attached itself everywhere their bodies touched the ground.
On a conscious level, Shikamaru knew that Landel's abilities seemed to have no limit, but this was the first time he truly felt what all of them were up against. Shadows were his domain, what he could control when he could control nothing else, but even shadow wasn't cast without Landel's permission. How could a person out-think the thing that thought up their world?
"Back inside," he said to them both, pulling Temari's arm with enough force to convey urgency but hopefully not challenge. There wasn't time to deal with her brand of pride. "Both of you. Go into the first room, close the door, and break the lightbulbs. No light means no shadows. Got it?" Though Gaara was the more powerful of the two, Shikamaru spoke to Temari. The headache forced him to streamline his thoughts, and he didn't feel like dealing with that bothersome timeline thing. "I'll be there in a second," he added.
In the real world, he could manipulate connected shadow without forcing the caster to mirror his actions. If the three of them acted before the shadows were completely beyond his power, he might be able to sever their ties. Shikamaru released Temari, needing both hands to call on any remaining chakra.
The plan should be simple, as long as they obeyed him. He'd even included the failsafe of a blackened room. But what if it didn't work?
They'll both die, something within him but not him replied.
More loss of control. It didn't feel as if something more powerful was taking over--he'd felt that before, training with his father. This was different, like grasping at wind. Like grasping at malevolent wind. "Hurry," he said.
Why bother trying when you're just going to get them killed?
Reply
Still, his focus remained on the ground, even as the Konoha-nin ordered them back inside. Molecules shifted beneath him, and gradually the sand he had sent into the earth returned--doubled--to arc around him lazily as the last bit trickled from the ground. His chest rose and fell; again, uncharacteristically drained from the brief effort. And for only that amount. He remained on the ground as he directed the sand back into the cloth, content to follow his sister's lead at the moment.
His eyes were not for them, however. They were directed into the dark, to the faintly darker outline of his own shadow. One couldn't be sure, in this dim, so he told himself. Because while he was crouched, it looked like it was standing. Gaara stood cautiously, and the shade shifted its weight, arms crossed. The Suna-nin's eyes narrowed.
Reply
That's right. Back down, because you know you can't protect him.
The voice came from no discernable place, and Temari moved her eyes quickly to try and find its source. Yet there was nothing but the three, and their shadows that seemed to stretch and grow in ways that only Shikamaru had managed before. Then, Temari looked to Gaara, and the figure standing before him whose presence alone signified that it was too late.
"Do you think it will still work?" Temari had been willing to go along with Shikamaru's plan, still was, if there was hope of it succeeding. But if they'd hesitated too long, then they'd need a new strategy--some way to defend themselves against whatever attacks these shadows would bring.
And you're going to rely on someone else for that too, aren't you?
Temari clenched her jaw tight, once again searching for the source of that voice. Yet even as her eyes darted, searching the darkness, she recognized it as her own. Just what the hell was going on here?
Reply
You know it won't work.
Was it the implant? That was the only logical explanation, but it seemed clumsy of Landel. Shikamaru was not an insecure person; if anything, most of his mistakes stemmed from overconfidence.
But when Gaara's shadow began to take shape and he saw Temari glance around in a way that suggested she was looking for something she expected but could not see, he understood that it wasn't the implant. Landel's fingers had dug into their minds and were now puppeting something, some kind of individual torture.
He could only hope that this wasn't going to be a physical fight, especially not with Gaara.
Shikamaru made a quick attempt to direct his chakra at the dark form before the boy, but once again shadow was strange: he could feel the usual shapes, the gradients created by overlapping shadows cast by multiple points of light, but all connection with this creature had been severed. Something of Temari's darkness was pulling away too, and the separation of his own carried with it an emotion he hadn't expected: anger, rather than the previous sense of anxious concentration. That was his. Landel had no right to rip it away.
"No." he said, correcting his first answer. No, none of the plans would work.
Focus. Don't provoke them. Be ready, but don't provoke them. His own duplicate seemed the least threatening of the three: sitting casually, weight on its palms, relaxed. "Maybe if you'd thought of something sooner," it said. Its voice was disinterested but carried a malicious edge, something just subtle enough not to be implausible.
Ignore it.
Shikamaru stepped forward, one hand hovering beside his kunai as he reached out to touch it. His fingers passed through the being's shoulder as if it were empty air. Slightly cold. It had no shadow of its own.
One of those games. Fantastic. And he couldn't be with better people: at his age, Gaara was a total nutjob with more issues than grains of sand in Suna, and Temari was...well, he was sure there was something wrong with her too.
"I think they're supposed to mess with our heads," Shikamaru said. "He likes to do that. I don't think they can physically hurt us."
"Or maybe I just don't feel like it right now," the being said with a shrug.
Another possibility. Shikamaru bit back a curse. Did he ever have an intelligent thought before speaking anymore? If Gaara and Temari's shadow selves had more motivation than his own, they might have a problem.
Reply
The thought was logical, but even in that, Gaara doubted the truthfulness of it.
There was a low sound past him, something that revealed itself as quiet laughter. “Trying to think things out? Why bother? Weapons aren’t created to think for themselves. A sword isn’t meant to consider its target, is it?“
The only tell was Gaara’s eyes widening. Was it an educated guess, or did the things know exactly what they spoke about? If it was the latter….
“And why remain with the others? Why don’t you kill them? What’s the point in having them around? They’re weak, aren’t they? You know they are. They can serve some purpose if you kill them.“ It moved closer, too near, and he took a step back without thinking. “Then life is wonderful.“
There was something altogether shaking in this. Shadows of a past that were painstakingly being worked through--the general nuances of a belief structure he had lived by for nine years being generalized and thrown back at him in terms he had used. Nothing it said was temptation. Everything it said existed as needles driven under his skin. He felt the absence of his sand then; felt naked without its protection and its power. The cloth dropped open, the thin trickle of sand rose in tandem with his emotions, but the shadow only laughed. “Kill me?“ It wondered, amused. “Or are you so willing to kill yourself? Now you can, you know. The sand won’t stop you here.“
Thought became disallowed. Reactions became unnecessary. How long that would last, however... If it truly knew details, there was more it could call on. And if they couldn't harm the shades, if they were really only shadows.... Gaara backed a step more, eyes locked on the form before him. "We need to leave. Where?" A question in the form of a command, directed at Shikamaru.
Reply
Leave a comment