Sky on Fire: Slow Burn - Chapter 10 (Part 2)
Title: Slow Burn
Chapter: 10 Misjudged (Part II)
Author/Artist: Skylar Inari
Pairing: Yamanaka Ino/Nara Shikamaru
Theme: 07 - Shrimp
Word Count: 8361
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. AU immediately after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc. Part 10 of ? Unbeta’d.
---
Shikamaru was standing, or rather sitting, and keeping watch while the other shinobi in the room slept. Asuma slipped in after what he’d claimed was a cigarette break, but in reality had been to scout the area for the little mouse that Yuuta had said Kotone would send out if she was able.
As a mouse though, these things took time. Especially since, as far as he knew, none of Kotone’s mice had his scent. It made locating harder, even while he chafed with impatience at not knowing everything there was to know.
There was something else he could do now, and after talking to Chouji, he was disinclined to let it go on for long. What he’d learned from Chouji hadn’t pleased him, and he was in no mood for something like that to fester.
“You,” Asuma said his voice stern but quiet, coming to lean against the wall by the chair Shikamaru was sitting in, “are out of control.”
Shikamaru glanced sideways at him, and let out of a non-committal hum before looking away. Asuma took in the slump of Shikamaru’s body, and the way that his eyes weren’t paying hardly any attention to the area around him.
And the way that his shadow was pooled around his feet in a way that most shadows didn’t.
That didn’t stop Asuma from giving him a sharp rap over the head. No matter how much growth his kids had done in the last year, they were still green, still had so much to learn.
The rap earned him a grunt of pain and Shikamaru glared up at him, even as one hand went to rub at his head. Beneath his feet, his shadow seemed suddenly thicker. “What was that for?”
Asuma glared back at him, the expression so seldom seen on his face that Shikamaru’s hand froze for a moment. Part of him, he had to admit, was relieved that this student of this still had that much common sense. “Do you really need to ask me that?” his voice was low, so low that Chouji who was still talking quietly to one of the ANBU while helping to make the others more comfortable wouldn’t be able to hear at all. If the ANBU heard, well, he was less concerned with that.
He had to take care of his team first. And that was hard enough with one link of their team missing in action, which meant that the other two had to get their act together. Right here, and now. If that meant Shikamaru’s pride took a few blows by being dressed down in front of a few agents who weren’t even paying attention… well, Asuma was willing to pay that cost. There were much higher ones that he could wind up having to pay if he kept up like this.
Even as he thought that, Shikamaru’s face went mulish, stubbornly set, and Asuma had to fight not to sigh. Of course he wouldn’t be easy to get through to. “I just did, didn’t I?”
“You,” Asuma continued, wishing futilely for a cigarette and turning the craving for nicotine into concentration on the matter at hand, “are an idiot.”
Shikamaru stared at him-whatever he’d be expecting, it clearly hadn’t been that.
Good. Maybe that meant he’d listen better. Asuma was willing to hope for that much at least. “I talked to Chouji,” Shikamaru eyes glanced over at his teammate with thinly veiled irritation, before Asuma brought his attention back to him, “no don’t look over at him like that, it’s not his fault he was doing just what he was supposed to and reporting to me what he found worrisome.”
It was that last bit that really brought Shikamaru’s attention back around to him.
“Worrisome?” Shikamaru’s voice was slightly biting; the word didn’t suit him at all. The fact that the tone did though was something that deepened Asuma’s frown.
“You,” Asuma continued on as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “are treading a very thin line here, did you know? That line is called ‘restricted from active duty’ and if you don’t smarten up I will send you back home under disgrace and bound by that order until you’ve got your head back on straight. I realize that, this time, you disobeying orders was something that saved a life-but it doesn’t change the fact that you’ll be written up not once, but twice for insubordination against me.”
“I didn’t-,“ Shikamaru looked out-raged, and he was glad to see that. It meant, at least, that he was listening.
“You did,” Asuma evenly countered. “Not just once, but twice. You went against my orders and left the area you were supposed to patrol, and-this is what gave you your second demerit-you forced a Genin to go along with that.”
Shikamaru’s eyes flashed. “Chouji-“
“Didn’t have to go along with you?” Asuma asked, deceptively soft.
Warily, perhaps sensing the trap, Shikamaru nodded. “He could have just turned and left.”
Just like he’d thought. Teenagers. What had a decade of peace done to them? “Ah, but he couldn’t have. Do you want to know why?”
Slowly, Shikamaru nodded.
“Because you are a Chuunin, and he’s a Genin.” Asuma might not have said the words ‘you stupid boy’ but they were conveyed well enough through his tone anyway. “You out-rank him, so when you’re out in the field, you are the one responsible for his actions. You’re still acting like, on the field, you’re all equal-and you’re not. There is more to being a Chuunin than giving orders in an immediate crisis. Apparently you need to re-listen to all those lectures your family gave you about being Chuunin again, because you didn’t learn them very well at all.”
“That’s not fair,” Shikamaru said, looking irritated as he lowered his hand from his head and clenched it into a fist. “I didn’t ask to be made Chuunin and responsible for them.”
“Then what,” Asuma shot back, “are you doing on active duty? Like it or not, you are a Chuunin and therefore, if I’m not around, you are responsible for them.”
Shikamaru just looked at him helplessly. “What do you want me to say?”
“I’m furious with you,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ino is missing in action, Chouji is livid at your lack of thinking and I’m stuck playing babysitter because I can’t trust you to handle things the way your rank says you ought to be able to.”
“I’m not a little kid,” Shikamaru protested.
“Then stop acting it.” Asuma turned away from him. “You’ve got one more chance-shape up, or go home. We don’t have time to deal with your issues right now, we’ve got to be focused on doing everything we can for Ino and Megumi. I mean it, get your act together starting now.”
He felt Shikamaru staring at his back as he paused for a moment to tell Yuuta he was going out to see if he could find anything-after all, Asuma was the only Jounin they had at the moment who was completely healthy-before leaving without glancing back.
He’d meant what he said. All of it. As he raced through the town, a quick jutsu around him keeping his movements out of casual sight, Asuma was still scowling.
Stupid kids.
--
Yuugao fumed.
It didn’t show on her face, not while it was hidden behind her mask, and it didn’t show in the set of her shoulders, the way she stood, or in her voice. All of that was from training. Her eyes were slightly narrowed, but that was because of the low light and the dark surrounding them, pressing in on the sides. Her team stood on alert as the team from Suna left, the girl with the fan giving them one last long look before chasing after her brothers and their sensei.
The team from Suna had a mission, of course. Their papers had seemed entirely in order. They’d been perfectly open about their purposes. Yuugao still hated it, and wanted to distrust them. She grit her teeth though, it was likely that they were telling the truth.
But it burned, like an ache all along the inside of her head. Not even a full year yet since they’d been enemies and they were to treat them as allies now. Professional was about the best conduct she could manage. Once this mission was over she would have to report the meeting to the Hokage.
“Fall out,” her voice came out crisp and clear in the night, “we’ve got to make up for lost time now-double pace until we’re back on track.”
Utter silence greeted that, but she knew they would follow. None of the agents with her were new, and they had a deadline to race against. They headed out of the clearing, slowly at first, to give their bodies time to adjust to moving again, and then picking up speed so that they were going faster and faster.
She upped the pace, keeping it just under the point where a slow burn would start in her legs, and knowing that the others in the squad would signal her if they needed to slow down. Their cloaks spilled out behind them as the moved, like black clouds with white faces rising from the gloom. If anyone saw them, there would be nothing but the impression of fear-in this light, at this time, if they were spotted, only the most idiotic would dare to engage them.
That, or they were looking for them and in place to move the moment they saw sign of their coming. Yuugao chided herself for not thinking-an ambush was definitely likely if things were as bad as they’d been told of-and as they pushed on, the long branches and tall trees of the forests were being left behind so quickly they barely had the time to notice the details. That was alright, if there had been anything out of the ordinary, one of them would have spotted it.
It was frustrating to know that there was nothing she could do but run, and run, and hope they could be of some use when they got there. She wanted to curse Suna for setting them behind on the already tough pace she’d had them on.
But if she had the time and energy to curse, then she had the time and energy to move faster. Yuugao knew better than to waste her resources on futile hate when she had a more important job to do. There would be time enough when they made it back to Konoha. Time to rage and mourn and then pick up and move on as best she could. It would not be on her head to break the new peace they had.
Yuugao loved Hayate, and that love wouldn’t disappear for as long as she lived. But she loved her village more, they both had, and so it was for both herself and for him that she would refrain from seeking vengeance for as long as they were allies with Suna. She didn’t delude herself into thinking that if an opportunity presented itself that she wouldn't take her due and make it look like it was work of the enemy, but that was a matter to be solved at another time.
And she didn’t even know who had killed him. Not yet, not now, and she was kept too busy-deliberately, Yuugao suspected as they raced ever closer to their destination, long wisps of her hair slowly working their way loose from the tight braid she’d coiled around her head for the run-to have much of a chance to research who might have done it.
Peace between shinobi countries was always a fragile thing. Yuugao had not even decided yet if she would go so far as to look for who it was. She wanted to, more than anything, but doubted her resolve-if she knew who Hayate’s killer was, would she be able to work with them if their paths crossed? Or would she damn the peace that the village needed now more than it had for the last decade, to do what Hayate himself would have condemned?
Honestly, she didn’t know.
The ground slipped away under their feet, ever now and then she allowed them a few minutes to break, to stretch, to keep the exhaustion in their legs from building to the point where they needed to rest longer. The time escaped her, dawn was coming, and Yuugao was glad enough for the distraction of hard work.
However much that she hoped to find things undisturbed, unbroken, and the chit’s team still all unaware of their duty, part of her itched for a fight. Just so long as they were alive, she promised. She wouldn’t wish harm on a Genin team that she’d never met-especially not one from her village.
But if the girl was caught and they had to retrieve her...
Well, Yuugao was fine with that. Her team, spread out behind her in arrow formation, matched her steps, she was their leader in this and she knew that she was not alone in hoping for a fight. The ANBU were used for the dirtiest missions, the hardest missions, the darkest ones.
They seldom had a chance to play at being heroes. It might be nice, for a change, to get to do so this time around.
Yuugao ran and, like dark birds of death, her team followed.
--
It was a blessing that her memory was trained so well, Ino decided, as she felt up the tunnel walls, wincing as fine slivers of rock cut into her hands but didn’t let that stop her as she frowned in frustration at the fact that there were clearly two ways to go and, no doubt, another way to go if she just went straight. The tunnel was cramped, her back was aching, and her knees, Ino was sure were going to be cut to ribbons by the end of it. It was so dark that she couldn’t even see her hands. Sight was mostly useless here, and she was relying more on her sense of smell and touch. Touch was important.
If her memory hadn’t been so used to the exercises that were needed to do Shintenshin no Jutsu, then Ino had no doubt that she’d have been hopelessly lost within moments of having entered the tunnel. And being lost, in a tunnel where she had no real idea of where she was, would have been an awful thing.
She wasn’t lost though, and Ino remained confident in her ability to stay that way. It just meant that she had to be careful, and that wasn’t something she was going to skimp on considering the situation. Eyes steeled with determination and hair that she was glad now was brown-if anyone happened to spot her, if she found… when she found a way out, then brown hair would go unremarked. The dirt too, she hadn’t thought of it before, but underground… if she’d still been blonde, there would have been no hiding that she’d been up to something.
Unnoticed. It was an odd thing for her, who’d always loved being noticed, to hope for the exact opposite. No matter, though, that was the way of things and there was nothing she hoped for more than to be unremarkable and find a way out of this.
Her grasping hands felt around the rock-dirt combination that made up the tunnel, exploring the open ways on either side of her. The right side was too narrow for Megumi-san to get through easily. A further check proved that the left and the path right in front of her were both wide enough for the older shinobi to get through if they used this as their escape route. Ino didn’t know if they would, but she thought that it was best to go forward as if that was, in fact, what was going to happen.
After a few moments of careful deliberation, and weighing her odds, she decided to stick to the path that went straight. The less turns she had to remember in this situation, where all she had to rely on was her memory and her hands, the better. Especially if they wound up having to leave in a rush.
Ino crawled down the tunnel, inch by careful inch, and trying to keep in mind Megumi-san’s broader shoulders and hips. If something was difficult for Ino to get through, then it would likely be all but impossible for Megumi-san to get through.
In any case, it was easier for her to press forward, always moving even as she sought for a way that could lead them out, than to seriously think about what she'd left behind.
Torture was something that was covered in the Academy, of course it was, there wasn't a ninja school in the world that would dare not cover something like that, but there was a vast difference between seeing the broken bodies in pictures and hearing tales from shinobi who, while bearing fearful scars, were still alive and had come out of it, relatively unscathed in the eyes of the children they talked to.
Ino's mind skittered away from the details of what could possibly be happening to Megumi-san right that moment. If she thought too hard about her, her stomach twisted and her concentration wavered. Down here, underground and surrounded by enemies--Ino couldn't afford to lose her concentration.
Another cross, and Ino was starting to think that every fifteen feet there was going to be a new path to choose, and she had to hope that it wouldn't all be like that--if it was, it'd mean there were more chances of her failing, greater odds of her eventually winding up hopelessly confused (was this turn, or this turn the one she needed to make?) and winding up lost.
Even worse was the fact that, eventually, they'd come looking for her if she got lost. And she would be trapped as a rat in here. Ino paused, taking a moment to try to work the kinks out of her back. It didn't work well, her back was far too cramped in here to get a real stretch in.
She went over that thought again, glancing around the dark tunnel out of reflex even though she couldn't see anything. If she was caught down here, either now, or at some other point, Ino realized, she would have the greatest advantage. None of the enemy shinobi she'd seen so far had been women, and only Megumi-san was anywhere near her in size.
And even in that, Ino was suddenly glad that she hadn't hit her growth spurt yet. If she took after her parents in height, one day, this tunnel would be a lot more painful than it was now. She moved on, hands brushing the side of the tunnel, gaining more cuts and scrapes that stung even as they guided her movements.
It’d be okay, she told herself, trying to shake off all of the depressing things that kept coming to mind. She’d be okay, Megumi-san would be okay, Asuma-sensei, Chouji, Shikamaru would all be okay (and now she had to fight with herself not to wonder too much about them, they surely were better off than she was, and she had a job to do), so she just had to keep moving on.
Further and further into the dark.
--
Her throat was raw from screaming, and yet she didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop if she was honest with herself, but honesty and thought were far away at the moment and Megumi couldn’t find it in herself to go after them. Not when everything hurt.
The floor was splashed liberally with flecks of red-her blood, and the drain hadn’t been put to use yet. She didn’t know how long it had been, just that it was going on for longer than she’d thought it would, this was only the first round-
-and the blade, slick with her blood and so sharp that it didn’t hurt until the cut was done, drew another long line in her skin-
Time was fluid, she couldn’t keep track of it, what had she been thinking? Had she had a train of thought? Was there anything other than pain to focus on... a shift from the back of the room caught her eye and she forced herself to pay attention, to focus on the silver hair and cold cruel eyes of Yakushi. Any port in a storm, and she needed to keep herself whole even as her body was broken under his eyes. Megumi didn’t know why, didn’t know why she needed to think, just that she had to, and that he was the only key she had at the moment. It was hard, making herself focus, there was pain, and blood, and more of the same until she could barely even hear herself screaming only knowing that she was from the way her throat contributed to the rest of the pain-
And all of a sudden, she could think again. It burned. Megumi cried, knowing now that no one would even notice to comment on her tears, not at this point, not while she was being tortured. She could cry, at least, and it was alright. She didn’t want to think, didn’t want to be aware, didn’t want to be able to see and understand what was being done to her.
The safe little shell she’d become, the hollowed out non-thinking being, the one who’d been getting hurt while wearing her body was gone and she mourned its loss. But there were things more important than how much it hurt to think and she’d made greater sacrifices for her duty than this.
She could do this. She would do this.
Even as her body continued to scream, and writhe, twitching with the pain of the little burns, the cuts, the bruises, her mind rode over the pain and was clearer with every second. Even this, she thought, gave her information. It wasn’t the first time she’d been tortured, and Megumi knew better than to think it would be the last-there was a difference between confidence and arrogance and while she was confident in her skills Megumi knew there was always someone better-and that she had the ability to manage this much.
Little details could add up, and she focused on those. They weren’t taking their time with the torture, there was hardly any interrogation, and Megumi couldn’t fathom what Yakushi was thinking. All reports said that he was viciously clever, patient, and ruthless-this break from his pattern meant that either the reports had been completely wrong...
Or this too was part of a plan. Did he want her to break, or not? What good would come of it if she didn’t break? There were reports of him healing Hyuuga Hinata just before the Oto invasion, and that too hadn’t added up. It made him human, Ibiki had said, and it made him dangerous. If they couldn’t predict him, then they had little chance at out-thinking him until they got a better grasp on his personality. And yet, here again, she couldn’t understand.
Did it mean they didn’t need her to break? That it didn’t matter if she was a ninja or not, that if she’d really been just a civilian that they would have done the same thing?
She was going around in circles, and there had to be a simpler answer. 'Keep it simple' was a basic tenant of every shinobi teaching. The more complicated a plan the more likely it was to fall apart.
Simple, then. She was missing something obvious. What good would hurting her this badly-and even now her body was being cut into and words that she’d ceased making sense of were being taunted into her ears, they were vile words, of course, and worse with every passing minute-do?
What if-?
Megumi’s eyes widened, even as a deeper cut than most was sliced down her arm, and her mind thought furiously. There was a moment, maybe longer, she couldn’t tell, as the world in front of her eyes went white, then red and everything was too loud in her ears before receding. What if the purpose of this wasn’t to break her, but to break Ino-kun?
Shit. That might even work, Megumi knew that Ino-kun didn’t have even a fifth of the training that she had, and had never seen the results of torture up close and personal. All it would take would be for her to snap enough to try healing some of the wounds and... the game would be up.
And there was nothing at all that Megumi could do about it. That, more than the blood, more than the injuries that would make escaping difficult if not impossible unless they had a distraction-not to mention the fact that they still didn’t have even the faintest plan for a way out-more than the worry that they might torture Ino-kun... that frightened her. She would have to entrust their luck to a green Genin in a situation the girl shouldn’t have been in at all in the first place.
It was a bitter pill to swallow.
Luck had seldom been kind to Megumi, and depending on it so heavily wasn’t something that thrilled her. Her breathing was ragged, and things were starting to not hurt at all-which was a bad sign, her mind noted wearily, even her thoughts were slowing down.
She would have to just believe that Ino-kun continued to surpass her expectations. Megumi didn’t know if she could afford to hope for that.
But it was all she had. Unconsciousness swallowed her before she even had time to realize it was coming-and the next time she woke up... Megumi would know if she’d been right to hope, or not.
--
“Asuma-sensei talked to me,” Shikamaru muttered, as he and Chouji got back from another food run, and slipped inside the hotel. The desk clerks just waved them on through. Their cover was holding still, and part of him was bemused by that considering everything that was happening in their room.
Chouji glanced sidelong at Shikamaru as they started up the stairs, bags swinging from their arms. “I know,” he said calmly, “he told me that he would.”
And Chouji had believed that Asuma-sensei would do as he’d said. Their sensei was many things, up to and including a liar when it suited him, but he took the team, their team seriously enough and didn’t appreciate it at all when things fell apart.
“He said I was being stupid-"
“You are.”
Shikamaru continued like there hadn’t been an interruption, “-and that everything was being done to help out.”
Chouji sighed. “It’s not like that ought to be a surprise. Asuma-sensei wants to get Ino back too, you know.” So did he. Maybe if she was back then their team would feel more like it used to instead of him being irritated at everything, Shikamaru sulking worse than Ino ever did, and Asuma-sensei hadn’t had a cigarette in nearly twelve hours. He’d been keeping track, and was mildly impressed that their sensei wasn’t showing any signs of withdrawal other than being more focused than ever.
The ANBU agents were sleeping soundly inside the hotel room. Yuuta-san glanced up as they entered the room, having knocked out the proper sequence first. They went to go and put the food out on the counter.
He didn’t get a response to that. A glance over at Shikamaru had Chouji sighing again. “I’m not mad at you.” And he wasn’t, not really, even though he doubted that he’d forget about this for a good long while, Asuma-sensei was right, there were lessons to be learned here too. Chouji had no plans to make the same mistake twice. “But you need to straighten up if we’re going to have any chance to help get Ino back.”
That got Shikamaru looking at him. “I have been paying attention,” his friend said dryly, “and Asuma-sensei was quite clear on that.”
“Then act like it,” he replied. “It’s bad enough already, we don’t need you acting worse than Ino on a bad day to make things worse.”
The snicker that earned him was worth the twinge of guilt he felt at making light of Ino at this time. “I haven’t been that bad,” Shikamaru protested, and his eyes still looked amused, if slightly put out.
“Of course not,” Chouji said, before adding on, “you’ve been worse.”
And through the amusement, he was telling the truth. Even if Ino at her worst was louder than Shikamaru.
“You’re not going to let me forget this, are you?”
It was so carefully neutral that Chouji spent a moment just bustling with the food before answering. “Do you think I should?”
He could feel the weight of Shikamaru’s gaze on his back. “No.”
A smile flitted over Chouji’s face. “Then I won’t. So let’s get to work-Asuma-sensei’s still out on patrol right, Yuuta-san?”
Yuuta didn’t even glance up. “He’s to check back in half an hour.”
“Half an hour,” Shikamaru muttered, as they went to go and sit on the floor against the bare wall. “Not much time to plan anything.”
“You can do it,” Chouji said serenely. “First step is finding out where they are, and what condition they’re in.”
“Asuma-sensei might have that information,” Shikamaru mused, sounding more like himself than he had for awhile as he pulled out a notepad and a pen. “Might. If not we’ll have to add a few other steps, so it’s probably best to plan for more. They were last seen in their rooms, right?”
“From what we've found out so far, that’s right...” They bent their heads together over the notepad, murmuring ideas to give their sensei when he got back.
Unseen by either of them, Yuuta smiled approvingly.
--
It wasn’t anything really obvious at first. Slowly though the fact that the dark-the dark that she’d been crawling through for what felt like forever-was lightening, bit by bit. In the beginning it was just being able to feel that the dark was less full, and as she moved on, hardly daring to hope for fear that it would simply be a lie, the dark slowly grew grey.
The walls of the tunnels became visible, the small rocks that she’d been running her bruised bleeding hands over, and the more painful bumps from the ceiling were no long surprises found out painfully, but she could see them coming and better avoid them.
Quicker then, she crawled, careful still to make sure she remembered every twist, every turn of the path, and made sure that her route would be large enough for Megumi-san. Though, even Ino had to admit, that though she did her best, some of it was going to be likely a tight and painful fit for Megumi-san. The tunnel, this far out was narrowing, and though it was a slow difference, it was a noticeable one.
She was just starting to fear that there was no way that Megumi-san would be able to make it down the tunnel she was in (and debating silently, but heatedly with herself, about the merits of turning back, away from this light, and trying to see if she could re-find it through another, larger tunnel) when there was the unmistakable sound of birds.
Ino froze, pressing her body flat against the cold rock and dirt of the tunnel floor, and focused on suppressing her chakra. Birds could mean freedom, she knew that, but they were also the single most common means of communication between shinobi-bird calls, how to imitate them so well that they sounded like the real thing, was taught in the Academy-and she didn’t dare get caught here.
Her progress now was even slower-inch by inch, so slow that internally she chafed at the pace even while admonishing herself to hold steady and not speed up. What if she took so long that they returned to the cell and found that she was missing? If that happened... Ino knew she was inexperienced as a shinobi compared to Megumi-san, but even she knew that the likelihood of their captors leaving Megumi-san alive were, well, slim to nonexistent.
The dirt was leaving her fingernails filthy, and Ino had made a face at that before she realized, with something almost like shock, that there was actually enough light for her to make out a detail like that.
She crouched, almost curled in on herself just before a bend in the tunnel. Around it was the source of light, and fresh air. Ino could feel the difference on her skin, even as she shivered, it was cold-underground she hadn’t noticed as much, her attention too focused on everything else to note the temperature. Here, though, it cut through her skin, through the thin yukata she’d been wearing back from the baths, and Ino shivered.
Winter in the Fire Country may not have had snow, but it was cold enough if you weren’t properly dressed. Ino inched her way around the corner, the tunnel was angling upwards, but she could see the opening-it was small but the light through it was real, as was the air and sounds.
Ino made herself not rush, even though all she wanted to do was crawl as quickly as she could to it, just so she could get out of the tunnel that felt more and more oppressive with every second longer she was in it.
The hole, when she reached it, was too small for her shoulders to slip through. Ino bit her lip, glancing up through it at the sky. Crouching precariously on the incline, Ino raised her hands carefully to start deliberately widening the hole.
It was difficult-the rocks bit into her hands, making her bite down hard to stifle any sound of pain that wanted to escape, and her eyes watered when the dust from her work got into her eyes. Her arms were aching, her shoulders felt like they were on fire, by the time she had the hole wide enough for, Ino thought, in her best estimation, both her and Megumi-san to slip out through.
Sticking her head up through the opening, Ino took a deep breath of the air, looking around and seeing nothing and no one in the immediate area. It was another thing to be glad for-the number of wooded areas that were to be found in this country. Hoisting herself up, Ino sprawled on the cool grass-it smelled like green, and the slightest hint of frost damped her clothing.
Ino didn’t care. She closed her eyes, cheek pressed against ground, and just breathed for a few minutes before forcing herself up, up to her feet, and staggering-as her knees made their opinion of all the crawling around she’d been doing known-over to a nearby tree to lean against it.
Her hands throbbed, her knees were bloody, and filthy, her face probably looked like a tear-streaked raccoon’s and her back, arms, shoulders all had their own complaints about the abuse she’d been putting them through.
But she was outside. In the clear air.
Ino made herself move despite the pain, she needed to get a read on where she’d come out in relation to everything nearby, and that meant the easiest way was up a tree. None of her body liked that idea, and she was breathing heavily, raggedly, by the time she made it up high enough to see the surrounding area.
She rested there, staring out at Aomori-shi for a long time with dull eyes before shifting to glance back at the way she’d come. Ino couldn’t see the tunnel from her perch in the tree, but she knew it was there. No one would blame her, she thought, if she ran, and ran, and headed right for Asuma-sensei.
She was just a Genin, people would say, of course she’d go for help.
Ino didn’t think she had the time though. If she went for help, then anything that happened to Megumi-san because of her disappearance would be all her fault. Ino stared down at the city, she couldn’t tell from here where the hotel was that the others were staying at.
It didn’t matter, she realized. Even if it was stupid, her choice had been made before she’d even started climbing the tree. It didn’t matter that the odds were high that her disappearance would already have been remarked on and that Megumi-san could already be paying for it... if that was the case, then she’d be better off doing the smart thing and getting herself out and to safety.
Her eyes narrowed, and her jaw firmed. ‘Smart’ wasn’t a word that people tended to apply to her family when it came to their decisions in the field. And for good reason, Ino was discovering, as she made her way painfully down the tree, doing her best to leave no traces of her passing.
Yamanaka in the field, after all, had two major characteristics-sheer dumb luck, of course, and they knew good and well how to take advantage of that when it came up.
But the other characteristic was, well, pure pig-headed stubbornness. They were well-named. Boar.
It was that stubbornness that had her walking over to the tunnel, and dropping down into it. It was that nerve that had her back down on her knees, even as they protested vehemently, as she headed back the way she’d come. The light faded as she moved away from the opening, back into the dark, back to feeling her way by touch and hoping she’d not forgotten anything.
And it was that unwavering determination that let her think she’d make it back in time.
--
It was just past noon when they stopped on the outskirts of Aomori-shi. Nibbling on a rations bar, Yuugao scoped out the place. She hadn’t been here before, never had a mission to this spot in specific even though she’d had passed it more than once.
"How’re we going in?" Shunsuke asked, pushing his mask up long enough to drink from his water flask. "Civilians, or play the just passing through friendly ninja angle? It is within our borders-Konoha ninja can’t be that rare around here."
She mulled over it. "I would rather wait until dusk," Yuugao admitted, "so we could go fully kitted out. As it is though, we don’t have the time to waste. Civilian gear, but make sure you’re fully outfitted under it. The sky is grey-wear your cloaks and do your best to look like we’re just expecting to get caught in the rain." That would give them more leeway in what they wore into the village.
"We know the inn they’re at. Once inside, we split up, one group to scout out their position, one group to track down Yuuta’s team. If this is a false alarm no harm, no foul, keep it quiet and simple. If we’re lucky, then we’re in and out within six hours and heading back home with the all-clear from Yuuta. That’s the best case scenario."
They spent a while longer just resting, no time for sleep right yet, but enough so that they weren’t quite so strung out and tired, before putting the plan, such as it was, into action. No need for a detailed plan of motion when they didn't even know exactly what was going to be needed. The transformation from ANBU agents to civilians simply seeking shelter from the on-coming storm (and Yuugao had to admit that she appreciated the fact that the weather in the winter made it easier to pull off simple deceptions like that--anyone with eyes could see that another storm was coming).
She left her hair down, loose, knowing that even just that aided in their being perceived as harmless, and they approached the gates, getting through easily. No one paid any more attention to them than they did to other travelers.
Splitting into two teams, her and the quiet Touya went to go and inspect the area around the Daimyo’s house and grounds, while Shunsuke and Kouhei went to the hotel. The grounds were all but bustling this time of day, and they didn't even try to slip inside through any of the obvious access points.
Carefully, oh so carefully, they snuck in through the gardens--all Konoha ninja were stronger in the midst of their natural environment, and trees were just about as close as possible to emulating the forests around their home--and were, within short order, inside the compound. Their cloaks had been left high up in a tree where the only thing that was likely to happen to them were birds making messes of them.
Both of them could live with that, and easily.
Then, of course, just as they were moving to go and inspect the compound fully, it was that one of Shunsuke's robins alighted on her shoulder, cheeping urgently.
Yuugao froze, a quick gesture from her had Touya slinking off to guard while she conversed with the small bird. It was too little a summon for full speech, but everyone who worked with Shunsuke knew well enough the basic code that the bird used to communicate.
She listened, relaxing slightly when she realized that it was not there to warn of pending attack, but rather of the fact that Yuuta and the others were at the hotel. Whistling out a quick tune--it was one of the more common ditty's in this area, and she knew good and well that it'd go unnoticed this time of the day--she called Shunsuke back.
They made for the hotel with easy speed and Yuugao couldn't help the slow smile that ghosted across her face.
"You're looking forward to a fight," Touya observed.
No point in denying it. "So what if I am?"
So what, indeed.
--
By the time she reached the cell they were being kept in, Ino was fighting back tears from pain in earnest. She couldn’t heal her knees right now, or her hands, and all she could really do was try not to think too much on just how bad everything hurt.
The human body was not meant to spend hours crawling around in the dark, on hands and knees, where sharp rocks and bumpy ceilings were what the world narrowed down to. She huddled, a pained heap of a girl, just under the opening that lead back into the room and tried to clear her mind enough to listen.
She couldn’t hear anything. Ino didn’t know if that was good or bad but, choosing to believe that it meant her disappearance hadn’t been found out, knew that she couldn’t stay just outside of the room. If Megumi-san hadn’t been returned yet, then surely she would soon. Ino forced herself up on one knee, and then the other, using her arms to lift herself out of the shallow depth that only a few short hours ago she’d jumped down easily.
Once in the room, Ino knew better than to stop moving before as much evidence of her ‘adventure’ was as hidden as she could make it. The most important one, of course, was the hole in the wall. Strangling the whimpers of pain that the slab of rock elicited from her hands Ino forced it back the way it had been before she’d leaned against it. In the near dark of the room-and now she could tell that it wasn’t nearly as dark as the tunnel, though it had seemed to be so before she’d gone out-she thought the panel looked about the same.
It would have to do. Ino scuffed the floor, gathering up the threadbare blankets they had, and wrapping them around her tightly. They would have to do as camouflage for now, and she scrubbed at her face, trying to get rid of the dirt, of the tear tracks, knowing that there was no way she’d be able to get her face as clean as it had been before her trip.
Eventually she gave it up as a lost cause-she couldn’t tell how her face was, just that it felt scraped and there was no way in this dark little room of making it cleaner. Ino buried her face against her knees, huddling up in a little blanketed ball, and making sure it covered her hands in addition to everything else.
She was grateful that her hair was brown. If it had been blonde for this mission the dirt that she could feel, grainy and gross against her skull, would have been obvious just from a glance. In the dark though, Ino wagered her hair had a fair chance at going unnoticed. Making herself breathe deep and even she forced herself to relax slowly, just a little, in the hopes of giving her back and shoulders some relief.
Ino was fast asleep within minutes.
It was later, hours, minutes, days, she didn’t know how much later it was, when the door to the cell slammed open with a crash and she jerked awake, her muscles protesting their sudden use after her folly of falling asleep without properly stretching them out. Ino squinted against the harsh light of the lanterns and huddled further into her blanket as two men in flak jackets and hitae-ite strode into the room with the limp form of a woman between them.
Her heart caught in her throat, there was only one woman that it could be, and Ino couldn’t help the way her breathing sped up as she fought off panic. “Onee-san--!” she made herself tumble off the low, hard bed, hoping it passed inspection of a reaction of someone who’d just woken up, and nothing more suspicious than that as she clutched the blanket tighter around her and over to the trio.
“She’s still alive,” one of them said, in a low gravelly voice. “Be glad she’s unconscious, little one.”
A tiny, tiny part of herself wondered how young she must appear right that moment to earn that. Big eyed, messy hair, tear stains and clinging to a blanket as she let new tears well up and fall over the still form of her sister.
She hovered anxiously, making little noises of distress as the two shinobi put Megumi-san down on the bed she’d just vacated with surprising gentleness. That, she noted with a part of herself that Ino hadn’t even been aware of being able to be so cold before this mission, meant that Megumi-san hadn’t broken, that she’d managed to keep up the charade of them being just siblings with an unfortunate tale.
If she’d broken, no doubt they’d have been a lot rougher.
Ino had a split second, as they set her down, to debate how to further that impression in their minds-it was a useful one, and if they’d kept it up so long then it would be nothing but a waste to give up. And then, as the two shinobi straightened up, Ino burst into tears, that were mostly fake, but at the same time were a relief to be able to cry all at once, and just sobbed into the blanket, wailing something about she wanted to go home and that they hadn’t done anything to deserve this, and her poor Onee-san was dead, dead, dead...
A large hand patted her awkwardly on the shoulder, and Ino, fighting the urge to cringe away, instead made herself lean into it. “She’ll wake up,” the first voice said again, “she not dead.”
That was all the reassurance she got as Junko-chan, as the hand and the shinobi who it belonged to passed by her, as she continued to cry, but hurried to her ‘sister’s’ side, as the men headed for the door.
“Poor fuckers,” the other muttered, as they stepped out of the room, taking their lanterns with them. “Look at them, they’re nothing but-”
The other shushed him with a glance, and Ino gave no sign of having noticed, all her attention outwardly focused on her ‘sister’. Their cell door shut, and the ominous sounds of the locks being slid back into place made her shiver even as her hands-rubbed as clean on the blanket as she could manage-gently reached to inspect Megumi-san’s wounds.
Pain, she realized, with a heavy heart, the injuries had all been inflicted to cause the maximum amount of pain with the least bit of damage being done. Ino wished, again, that she could use her chakra to help smooth out the ache of at least a few of the wounds.
She didn’t dare though, and instead devoted herself to sniffling (for the audience she was sure they had) and doing her best to make Megumi-san as comfortable as possible in the circumstances. At one point water and a meager bit of food was brought by, and Ino used about half the water for cleaning both her knees and hands out, as well as Megumi-san’s injuries.
Hours later, she thought anyway, her sense of time was out of whack, the air changed as Megumi-san woke up.
“Onee-san?” ‘Junko’ quavered, as she lowered her head to touch Megumi-san’s hair, and her cheek, knowing that even as injured as she was, Megumi-san would note the scrapes on her hands.
“Junko-chan,” Megumi-san’s voice was pained, but clear. “What have you been up too?” It was a question on many levels. Ino knew which one she wanted answered most.
She lowered her head further, until her lips were near Megumi-san’s ear-she didn’t know enough sign language to get a message like this across. “Waiting for you to wake up,” she wobbled out, even as she added, in a voice that was scarcely above a whisper-
“I found a way out.”
--
Previous Chapter // Chapter List // Next Chapter
Chapter: 10 Misjudged (Part II)
Author/Artist: Skylar Inari
Pairing: Yamanaka Ino/Nara Shikamaru
Theme: 07 - Shrimp
Word Count: 8361
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me. It's Kishimoto's and I just play with it. AU immediately after the Sasuke Retrieval Arc. Part 10 of ? Unbeta’d.
---
Shikamaru was standing, or rather sitting, and keeping watch while the other shinobi in the room slept. Asuma slipped in after what he’d claimed was a cigarette break, but in reality had been to scout the area for the little mouse that Yuuta had said Kotone would send out if she was able.
As a mouse though, these things took time. Especially since, as far as he knew, none of Kotone’s mice had his scent. It made locating harder, even while he chafed with impatience at not knowing everything there was to know.
There was something else he could do now, and after talking to Chouji, he was disinclined to let it go on for long. What he’d learned from Chouji hadn’t pleased him, and he was in no mood for something like that to fester.
“You,” Asuma said his voice stern but quiet, coming to lean against the wall by the chair Shikamaru was sitting in, “are out of control.”
Shikamaru glanced sideways at him, and let out of a non-committal hum before looking away. Asuma took in the slump of Shikamaru’s body, and the way that his eyes weren’t paying hardly any attention to the area around him.
And the way that his shadow was pooled around his feet in a way that most shadows didn’t.
That didn’t stop Asuma from giving him a sharp rap over the head. No matter how much growth his kids had done in the last year, they were still green, still had so much to learn.
The rap earned him a grunt of pain and Shikamaru glared up at him, even as one hand went to rub at his head. Beneath his feet, his shadow seemed suddenly thicker. “What was that for?”
Asuma glared back at him, the expression so seldom seen on his face that Shikamaru’s hand froze for a moment. Part of him, he had to admit, was relieved that this student of this still had that much common sense. “Do you really need to ask me that?” his voice was low, so low that Chouji who was still talking quietly to one of the ANBU while helping to make the others more comfortable wouldn’t be able to hear at all. If the ANBU heard, well, he was less concerned with that.
He had to take care of his team first. And that was hard enough with one link of their team missing in action, which meant that the other two had to get their act together. Right here, and now. If that meant Shikamaru’s pride took a few blows by being dressed down in front of a few agents who weren’t even paying attention… well, Asuma was willing to pay that cost. There were much higher ones that he could wind up having to pay if he kept up like this.
Even as he thought that, Shikamaru’s face went mulish, stubbornly set, and Asuma had to fight not to sigh. Of course he wouldn’t be easy to get through to. “I just did, didn’t I?”
“You,” Asuma continued, wishing futilely for a cigarette and turning the craving for nicotine into concentration on the matter at hand, “are an idiot.”
Shikamaru stared at him-whatever he’d be expecting, it clearly hadn’t been that.
Good. Maybe that meant he’d listen better. Asuma was willing to hope for that much at least. “I talked to Chouji,” Shikamaru eyes glanced over at his teammate with thinly veiled irritation, before Asuma brought his attention back to him, “no don’t look over at him like that, it’s not his fault he was doing just what he was supposed to and reporting to me what he found worrisome.”
It was that last bit that really brought Shikamaru’s attention back around to him.
“Worrisome?” Shikamaru’s voice was slightly biting; the word didn’t suit him at all. The fact that the tone did though was something that deepened Asuma’s frown.
“You,” Asuma continued on as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “are treading a very thin line here, did you know? That line is called ‘restricted from active duty’ and if you don’t smarten up I will send you back home under disgrace and bound by that order until you’ve got your head back on straight. I realize that, this time, you disobeying orders was something that saved a life-but it doesn’t change the fact that you’ll be written up not once, but twice for insubordination against me.”
“I didn’t-,“ Shikamaru looked out-raged, and he was glad to see that. It meant, at least, that he was listening.
“You did,” Asuma evenly countered. “Not just once, but twice. You went against my orders and left the area you were supposed to patrol, and-this is what gave you your second demerit-you forced a Genin to go along with that.”
Shikamaru’s eyes flashed. “Chouji-“
“Didn’t have to go along with you?” Asuma asked, deceptively soft.
Warily, perhaps sensing the trap, Shikamaru nodded. “He could have just turned and left.”
Just like he’d thought. Teenagers. What had a decade of peace done to them? “Ah, but he couldn’t have. Do you want to know why?”
Slowly, Shikamaru nodded.
“Because you are a Chuunin, and he’s a Genin.” Asuma might not have said the words ‘you stupid boy’ but they were conveyed well enough through his tone anyway. “You out-rank him, so when you’re out in the field, you are the one responsible for his actions. You’re still acting like, on the field, you’re all equal-and you’re not. There is more to being a Chuunin than giving orders in an immediate crisis. Apparently you need to re-listen to all those lectures your family gave you about being Chuunin again, because you didn’t learn them very well at all.”
“That’s not fair,” Shikamaru said, looking irritated as he lowered his hand from his head and clenched it into a fist. “I didn’t ask to be made Chuunin and responsible for them.”
“Then what,” Asuma shot back, “are you doing on active duty? Like it or not, you are a Chuunin and therefore, if I’m not around, you are responsible for them.”
Shikamaru just looked at him helplessly. “What do you want me to say?”
“I’m furious with you,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Ino is missing in action, Chouji is livid at your lack of thinking and I’m stuck playing babysitter because I can’t trust you to handle things the way your rank says you ought to be able to.”
“I’m not a little kid,” Shikamaru protested.
“Then stop acting it.” Asuma turned away from him. “You’ve got one more chance-shape up, or go home. We don’t have time to deal with your issues right now, we’ve got to be focused on doing everything we can for Ino and Megumi. I mean it, get your act together starting now.”
He felt Shikamaru staring at his back as he paused for a moment to tell Yuuta he was going out to see if he could find anything-after all, Asuma was the only Jounin they had at the moment who was completely healthy-before leaving without glancing back.
He’d meant what he said. All of it. As he raced through the town, a quick jutsu around him keeping his movements out of casual sight, Asuma was still scowling.
Stupid kids.
--
Yuugao fumed.
It didn’t show on her face, not while it was hidden behind her mask, and it didn’t show in the set of her shoulders, the way she stood, or in her voice. All of that was from training. Her eyes were slightly narrowed, but that was because of the low light and the dark surrounding them, pressing in on the sides. Her team stood on alert as the team from Suna left, the girl with the fan giving them one last long look before chasing after her brothers and their sensei.
The team from Suna had a mission, of course. Their papers had seemed entirely in order. They’d been perfectly open about their purposes. Yuugao still hated it, and wanted to distrust them. She grit her teeth though, it was likely that they were telling the truth.
But it burned, like an ache all along the inside of her head. Not even a full year yet since they’d been enemies and they were to treat them as allies now. Professional was about the best conduct she could manage. Once this mission was over she would have to report the meeting to the Hokage.
“Fall out,” her voice came out crisp and clear in the night, “we’ve got to make up for lost time now-double pace until we’re back on track.”
Utter silence greeted that, but she knew they would follow. None of the agents with her were new, and they had a deadline to race against. They headed out of the clearing, slowly at first, to give their bodies time to adjust to moving again, and then picking up speed so that they were going faster and faster.
She upped the pace, keeping it just under the point where a slow burn would start in her legs, and knowing that the others in the squad would signal her if they needed to slow down. Their cloaks spilled out behind them as the moved, like black clouds with white faces rising from the gloom. If anyone saw them, there would be nothing but the impression of fear-in this light, at this time, if they were spotted, only the most idiotic would dare to engage them.
That, or they were looking for them and in place to move the moment they saw sign of their coming. Yuugao chided herself for not thinking-an ambush was definitely likely if things were as bad as they’d been told of-and as they pushed on, the long branches and tall trees of the forests were being left behind so quickly they barely had the time to notice the details. That was alright, if there had been anything out of the ordinary, one of them would have spotted it.
It was frustrating to know that there was nothing she could do but run, and run, and hope they could be of some use when they got there. She wanted to curse Suna for setting them behind on the already tough pace she’d had them on.
But if she had the time and energy to curse, then she had the time and energy to move faster. Yuugao knew better than to waste her resources on futile hate when she had a more important job to do. There would be time enough when they made it back to Konoha. Time to rage and mourn and then pick up and move on as best she could. It would not be on her head to break the new peace they had.
Yuugao loved Hayate, and that love wouldn’t disappear for as long as she lived. But she loved her village more, they both had, and so it was for both herself and for him that she would refrain from seeking vengeance for as long as they were allies with Suna. She didn’t delude herself into thinking that if an opportunity presented itself that she wouldn't take her due and make it look like it was work of the enemy, but that was a matter to be solved at another time.
And she didn’t even know who had killed him. Not yet, not now, and she was kept too busy-deliberately, Yuugao suspected as they raced ever closer to their destination, long wisps of her hair slowly working their way loose from the tight braid she’d coiled around her head for the run-to have much of a chance to research who might have done it.
Peace between shinobi countries was always a fragile thing. Yuugao had not even decided yet if she would go so far as to look for who it was. She wanted to, more than anything, but doubted her resolve-if she knew who Hayate’s killer was, would she be able to work with them if their paths crossed? Or would she damn the peace that the village needed now more than it had for the last decade, to do what Hayate himself would have condemned?
Honestly, she didn’t know.
The ground slipped away under their feet, ever now and then she allowed them a few minutes to break, to stretch, to keep the exhaustion in their legs from building to the point where they needed to rest longer. The time escaped her, dawn was coming, and Yuugao was glad enough for the distraction of hard work.
However much that she hoped to find things undisturbed, unbroken, and the chit’s team still all unaware of their duty, part of her itched for a fight. Just so long as they were alive, she promised. She wouldn’t wish harm on a Genin team that she’d never met-especially not one from her village.
But if the girl was caught and they had to retrieve her...
Well, Yuugao was fine with that. Her team, spread out behind her in arrow formation, matched her steps, she was their leader in this and she knew that she was not alone in hoping for a fight. The ANBU were used for the dirtiest missions, the hardest missions, the darkest ones.
They seldom had a chance to play at being heroes. It might be nice, for a change, to get to do so this time around.
Yuugao ran and, like dark birds of death, her team followed.
--
It was a blessing that her memory was trained so well, Ino decided, as she felt up the tunnel walls, wincing as fine slivers of rock cut into her hands but didn’t let that stop her as she frowned in frustration at the fact that there were clearly two ways to go and, no doubt, another way to go if she just went straight. The tunnel was cramped, her back was aching, and her knees, Ino was sure were going to be cut to ribbons by the end of it. It was so dark that she couldn’t even see her hands. Sight was mostly useless here, and she was relying more on her sense of smell and touch. Touch was important.
If her memory hadn’t been so used to the exercises that were needed to do Shintenshin no Jutsu, then Ino had no doubt that she’d have been hopelessly lost within moments of having entered the tunnel. And being lost, in a tunnel where she had no real idea of where she was, would have been an awful thing.
She wasn’t lost though, and Ino remained confident in her ability to stay that way. It just meant that she had to be careful, and that wasn’t something she was going to skimp on considering the situation. Eyes steeled with determination and hair that she was glad now was brown-if anyone happened to spot her, if she found… when she found a way out, then brown hair would go unremarked. The dirt too, she hadn’t thought of it before, but underground… if she’d still been blonde, there would have been no hiding that she’d been up to something.
Unnoticed. It was an odd thing for her, who’d always loved being noticed, to hope for the exact opposite. No matter, though, that was the way of things and there was nothing she hoped for more than to be unremarkable and find a way out of this.
Her grasping hands felt around the rock-dirt combination that made up the tunnel, exploring the open ways on either side of her. The right side was too narrow for Megumi-san to get through easily. A further check proved that the left and the path right in front of her were both wide enough for the older shinobi to get through if they used this as their escape route. Ino didn’t know if they would, but she thought that it was best to go forward as if that was, in fact, what was going to happen.
After a few moments of careful deliberation, and weighing her odds, she decided to stick to the path that went straight. The less turns she had to remember in this situation, where all she had to rely on was her memory and her hands, the better. Especially if they wound up having to leave in a rush.
Ino crawled down the tunnel, inch by careful inch, and trying to keep in mind Megumi-san’s broader shoulders and hips. If something was difficult for Ino to get through, then it would likely be all but impossible for Megumi-san to get through.
In any case, it was easier for her to press forward, always moving even as she sought for a way that could lead them out, than to seriously think about what she'd left behind.
Torture was something that was covered in the Academy, of course it was, there wasn't a ninja school in the world that would dare not cover something like that, but there was a vast difference between seeing the broken bodies in pictures and hearing tales from shinobi who, while bearing fearful scars, were still alive and had come out of it, relatively unscathed in the eyes of the children they talked to.
Ino's mind skittered away from the details of what could possibly be happening to Megumi-san right that moment. If she thought too hard about her, her stomach twisted and her concentration wavered. Down here, underground and surrounded by enemies--Ino couldn't afford to lose her concentration.
Another cross, and Ino was starting to think that every fifteen feet there was going to be a new path to choose, and she had to hope that it wouldn't all be like that--if it was, it'd mean there were more chances of her failing, greater odds of her eventually winding up hopelessly confused (was this turn, or this turn the one she needed to make?) and winding up lost.
Even worse was the fact that, eventually, they'd come looking for her if she got lost. And she would be trapped as a rat in here. Ino paused, taking a moment to try to work the kinks out of her back. It didn't work well, her back was far too cramped in here to get a real stretch in.
She went over that thought again, glancing around the dark tunnel out of reflex even though she couldn't see anything. If she was caught down here, either now, or at some other point, Ino realized, she would have the greatest advantage. None of the enemy shinobi she'd seen so far had been women, and only Megumi-san was anywhere near her in size.
And even in that, Ino was suddenly glad that she hadn't hit her growth spurt yet. If she took after her parents in height, one day, this tunnel would be a lot more painful than it was now. She moved on, hands brushing the side of the tunnel, gaining more cuts and scrapes that stung even as they guided her movements.
It’d be okay, she told herself, trying to shake off all of the depressing things that kept coming to mind. She’d be okay, Megumi-san would be okay, Asuma-sensei, Chouji, Shikamaru would all be okay (and now she had to fight with herself not to wonder too much about them, they surely were better off than she was, and she had a job to do), so she just had to keep moving on.
Further and further into the dark.
--
Her throat was raw from screaming, and yet she didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop if she was honest with herself, but honesty and thought were far away at the moment and Megumi couldn’t find it in herself to go after them. Not when everything hurt.
The floor was splashed liberally with flecks of red-her blood, and the drain hadn’t been put to use yet. She didn’t know how long it had been, just that it was going on for longer than she’d thought it would, this was only the first round-
-and the blade, slick with her blood and so sharp that it didn’t hurt until the cut was done, drew another long line in her skin-
Time was fluid, she couldn’t keep track of it, what had she been thinking? Had she had a train of thought? Was there anything other than pain to focus on... a shift from the back of the room caught her eye and she forced herself to pay attention, to focus on the silver hair and cold cruel eyes of Yakushi. Any port in a storm, and she needed to keep herself whole even as her body was broken under his eyes. Megumi didn’t know why, didn’t know why she needed to think, just that she had to, and that he was the only key she had at the moment. It was hard, making herself focus, there was pain, and blood, and more of the same until she could barely even hear herself screaming only knowing that she was from the way her throat contributed to the rest of the pain-
And all of a sudden, she could think again. It burned. Megumi cried, knowing now that no one would even notice to comment on her tears, not at this point, not while she was being tortured. She could cry, at least, and it was alright. She didn’t want to think, didn’t want to be aware, didn’t want to be able to see and understand what was being done to her.
The safe little shell she’d become, the hollowed out non-thinking being, the one who’d been getting hurt while wearing her body was gone and she mourned its loss. But there were things more important than how much it hurt to think and she’d made greater sacrifices for her duty than this.
She could do this. She would do this.
Even as her body continued to scream, and writhe, twitching with the pain of the little burns, the cuts, the bruises, her mind rode over the pain and was clearer with every second. Even this, she thought, gave her information. It wasn’t the first time she’d been tortured, and Megumi knew better than to think it would be the last-there was a difference between confidence and arrogance and while she was confident in her skills Megumi knew there was always someone better-and that she had the ability to manage this much.
Little details could add up, and she focused on those. They weren’t taking their time with the torture, there was hardly any interrogation, and Megumi couldn’t fathom what Yakushi was thinking. All reports said that he was viciously clever, patient, and ruthless-this break from his pattern meant that either the reports had been completely wrong...
Or this too was part of a plan. Did he want her to break, or not? What good would come of it if she didn’t break? There were reports of him healing Hyuuga Hinata just before the Oto invasion, and that too hadn’t added up. It made him human, Ibiki had said, and it made him dangerous. If they couldn’t predict him, then they had little chance at out-thinking him until they got a better grasp on his personality. And yet, here again, she couldn’t understand.
Did it mean they didn’t need her to break? That it didn’t matter if she was a ninja or not, that if she’d really been just a civilian that they would have done the same thing?
She was going around in circles, and there had to be a simpler answer. 'Keep it simple' was a basic tenant of every shinobi teaching. The more complicated a plan the more likely it was to fall apart.
Simple, then. She was missing something obvious. What good would hurting her this badly-and even now her body was being cut into and words that she’d ceased making sense of were being taunted into her ears, they were vile words, of course, and worse with every passing minute-do?
What if-?
Megumi’s eyes widened, even as a deeper cut than most was sliced down her arm, and her mind thought furiously. There was a moment, maybe longer, she couldn’t tell, as the world in front of her eyes went white, then red and everything was too loud in her ears before receding. What if the purpose of this wasn’t to break her, but to break Ino-kun?
Shit. That might even work, Megumi knew that Ino-kun didn’t have even a fifth of the training that she had, and had never seen the results of torture up close and personal. All it would take would be for her to snap enough to try healing some of the wounds and... the game would be up.
And there was nothing at all that Megumi could do about it. That, more than the blood, more than the injuries that would make escaping difficult if not impossible unless they had a distraction-not to mention the fact that they still didn’t have even the faintest plan for a way out-more than the worry that they might torture Ino-kun... that frightened her. She would have to entrust their luck to a green Genin in a situation the girl shouldn’t have been in at all in the first place.
It was a bitter pill to swallow.
Luck had seldom been kind to Megumi, and depending on it so heavily wasn’t something that thrilled her. Her breathing was ragged, and things were starting to not hurt at all-which was a bad sign, her mind noted wearily, even her thoughts were slowing down.
She would have to just believe that Ino-kun continued to surpass her expectations. Megumi didn’t know if she could afford to hope for that.
But it was all she had. Unconsciousness swallowed her before she even had time to realize it was coming-and the next time she woke up... Megumi would know if she’d been right to hope, or not.
--
“Asuma-sensei talked to me,” Shikamaru muttered, as he and Chouji got back from another food run, and slipped inside the hotel. The desk clerks just waved them on through. Their cover was holding still, and part of him was bemused by that considering everything that was happening in their room.
Chouji glanced sidelong at Shikamaru as they started up the stairs, bags swinging from their arms. “I know,” he said calmly, “he told me that he would.”
And Chouji had believed that Asuma-sensei would do as he’d said. Their sensei was many things, up to and including a liar when it suited him, but he took the team, their team seriously enough and didn’t appreciate it at all when things fell apart.
“He said I was being stupid-"
“You are.”
Shikamaru continued like there hadn’t been an interruption, “-and that everything was being done to help out.”
Chouji sighed. “It’s not like that ought to be a surprise. Asuma-sensei wants to get Ino back too, you know.” So did he. Maybe if she was back then their team would feel more like it used to instead of him being irritated at everything, Shikamaru sulking worse than Ino ever did, and Asuma-sensei hadn’t had a cigarette in nearly twelve hours. He’d been keeping track, and was mildly impressed that their sensei wasn’t showing any signs of withdrawal other than being more focused than ever.
The ANBU agents were sleeping soundly inside the hotel room. Yuuta-san glanced up as they entered the room, having knocked out the proper sequence first. They went to go and put the food out on the counter.
He didn’t get a response to that. A glance over at Shikamaru had Chouji sighing again. “I’m not mad at you.” And he wasn’t, not really, even though he doubted that he’d forget about this for a good long while, Asuma-sensei was right, there were lessons to be learned here too. Chouji had no plans to make the same mistake twice. “But you need to straighten up if we’re going to have any chance to help get Ino back.”
That got Shikamaru looking at him. “I have been paying attention,” his friend said dryly, “and Asuma-sensei was quite clear on that.”
“Then act like it,” he replied. “It’s bad enough already, we don’t need you acting worse than Ino on a bad day to make things worse.”
The snicker that earned him was worth the twinge of guilt he felt at making light of Ino at this time. “I haven’t been that bad,” Shikamaru protested, and his eyes still looked amused, if slightly put out.
“Of course not,” Chouji said, before adding on, “you’ve been worse.”
And through the amusement, he was telling the truth. Even if Ino at her worst was louder than Shikamaru.
“You’re not going to let me forget this, are you?”
It was so carefully neutral that Chouji spent a moment just bustling with the food before answering. “Do you think I should?”
He could feel the weight of Shikamaru’s gaze on his back. “No.”
A smile flitted over Chouji’s face. “Then I won’t. So let’s get to work-Asuma-sensei’s still out on patrol right, Yuuta-san?”
Yuuta didn’t even glance up. “He’s to check back in half an hour.”
“Half an hour,” Shikamaru muttered, as they went to go and sit on the floor against the bare wall. “Not much time to plan anything.”
“You can do it,” Chouji said serenely. “First step is finding out where they are, and what condition they’re in.”
“Asuma-sensei might have that information,” Shikamaru mused, sounding more like himself than he had for awhile as he pulled out a notepad and a pen. “Might. If not we’ll have to add a few other steps, so it’s probably best to plan for more. They were last seen in their rooms, right?”
“From what we've found out so far, that’s right...” They bent their heads together over the notepad, murmuring ideas to give their sensei when he got back.
Unseen by either of them, Yuuta smiled approvingly.
--
It wasn’t anything really obvious at first. Slowly though the fact that the dark-the dark that she’d been crawling through for what felt like forever-was lightening, bit by bit. In the beginning it was just being able to feel that the dark was less full, and as she moved on, hardly daring to hope for fear that it would simply be a lie, the dark slowly grew grey.
The walls of the tunnels became visible, the small rocks that she’d been running her bruised bleeding hands over, and the more painful bumps from the ceiling were no long surprises found out painfully, but she could see them coming and better avoid them.
Quicker then, she crawled, careful still to make sure she remembered every twist, every turn of the path, and made sure that her route would be large enough for Megumi-san. Though, even Ino had to admit, that though she did her best, some of it was going to be likely a tight and painful fit for Megumi-san. The tunnel, this far out was narrowing, and though it was a slow difference, it was a noticeable one.
She was just starting to fear that there was no way that Megumi-san would be able to make it down the tunnel she was in (and debating silently, but heatedly with herself, about the merits of turning back, away from this light, and trying to see if she could re-find it through another, larger tunnel) when there was the unmistakable sound of birds.
Ino froze, pressing her body flat against the cold rock and dirt of the tunnel floor, and focused on suppressing her chakra. Birds could mean freedom, she knew that, but they were also the single most common means of communication between shinobi-bird calls, how to imitate them so well that they sounded like the real thing, was taught in the Academy-and she didn’t dare get caught here.
Her progress now was even slower-inch by inch, so slow that internally she chafed at the pace even while admonishing herself to hold steady and not speed up. What if she took so long that they returned to the cell and found that she was missing? If that happened... Ino knew she was inexperienced as a shinobi compared to Megumi-san, but even she knew that the likelihood of their captors leaving Megumi-san alive were, well, slim to nonexistent.
The dirt was leaving her fingernails filthy, and Ino had made a face at that before she realized, with something almost like shock, that there was actually enough light for her to make out a detail like that.
She crouched, almost curled in on herself just before a bend in the tunnel. Around it was the source of light, and fresh air. Ino could feel the difference on her skin, even as she shivered, it was cold-underground she hadn’t noticed as much, her attention too focused on everything else to note the temperature. Here, though, it cut through her skin, through the thin yukata she’d been wearing back from the baths, and Ino shivered.
Winter in the Fire Country may not have had snow, but it was cold enough if you weren’t properly dressed. Ino inched her way around the corner, the tunnel was angling upwards, but she could see the opening-it was small but the light through it was real, as was the air and sounds.
Ino made herself not rush, even though all she wanted to do was crawl as quickly as she could to it, just so she could get out of the tunnel that felt more and more oppressive with every second longer she was in it.
The hole, when she reached it, was too small for her shoulders to slip through. Ino bit her lip, glancing up through it at the sky. Crouching precariously on the incline, Ino raised her hands carefully to start deliberately widening the hole.
It was difficult-the rocks bit into her hands, making her bite down hard to stifle any sound of pain that wanted to escape, and her eyes watered when the dust from her work got into her eyes. Her arms were aching, her shoulders felt like they were on fire, by the time she had the hole wide enough for, Ino thought, in her best estimation, both her and Megumi-san to slip out through.
Sticking her head up through the opening, Ino took a deep breath of the air, looking around and seeing nothing and no one in the immediate area. It was another thing to be glad for-the number of wooded areas that were to be found in this country. Hoisting herself up, Ino sprawled on the cool grass-it smelled like green, and the slightest hint of frost damped her clothing.
Ino didn’t care. She closed her eyes, cheek pressed against ground, and just breathed for a few minutes before forcing herself up, up to her feet, and staggering-as her knees made their opinion of all the crawling around she’d been doing known-over to a nearby tree to lean against it.
Her hands throbbed, her knees were bloody, and filthy, her face probably looked like a tear-streaked raccoon’s and her back, arms, shoulders all had their own complaints about the abuse she’d been putting them through.
But she was outside. In the clear air.
Ino made herself move despite the pain, she needed to get a read on where she’d come out in relation to everything nearby, and that meant the easiest way was up a tree. None of her body liked that idea, and she was breathing heavily, raggedly, by the time she made it up high enough to see the surrounding area.
She rested there, staring out at Aomori-shi for a long time with dull eyes before shifting to glance back at the way she’d come. Ino couldn’t see the tunnel from her perch in the tree, but she knew it was there. No one would blame her, she thought, if she ran, and ran, and headed right for Asuma-sensei.
She was just a Genin, people would say, of course she’d go for help.
Ino didn’t think she had the time though. If she went for help, then anything that happened to Megumi-san because of her disappearance would be all her fault. Ino stared down at the city, she couldn’t tell from here where the hotel was that the others were staying at.
It didn’t matter, she realized. Even if it was stupid, her choice had been made before she’d even started climbing the tree. It didn’t matter that the odds were high that her disappearance would already have been remarked on and that Megumi-san could already be paying for it... if that was the case, then she’d be better off doing the smart thing and getting herself out and to safety.
Her eyes narrowed, and her jaw firmed. ‘Smart’ wasn’t a word that people tended to apply to her family when it came to their decisions in the field. And for good reason, Ino was discovering, as she made her way painfully down the tree, doing her best to leave no traces of her passing.
Yamanaka in the field, after all, had two major characteristics-sheer dumb luck, of course, and they knew good and well how to take advantage of that when it came up.
But the other characteristic was, well, pure pig-headed stubbornness. They were well-named. Boar.
It was that stubbornness that had her walking over to the tunnel, and dropping down into it. It was that nerve that had her back down on her knees, even as they protested vehemently, as she headed back the way she’d come. The light faded as she moved away from the opening, back into the dark, back to feeling her way by touch and hoping she’d not forgotten anything.
And it was that unwavering determination that let her think she’d make it back in time.
--
It was just past noon when they stopped on the outskirts of Aomori-shi. Nibbling on a rations bar, Yuugao scoped out the place. She hadn’t been here before, never had a mission to this spot in specific even though she’d had passed it more than once.
"How’re we going in?" Shunsuke asked, pushing his mask up long enough to drink from his water flask. "Civilians, or play the just passing through friendly ninja angle? It is within our borders-Konoha ninja can’t be that rare around here."
She mulled over it. "I would rather wait until dusk," Yuugao admitted, "so we could go fully kitted out. As it is though, we don’t have the time to waste. Civilian gear, but make sure you’re fully outfitted under it. The sky is grey-wear your cloaks and do your best to look like we’re just expecting to get caught in the rain." That would give them more leeway in what they wore into the village.
"We know the inn they’re at. Once inside, we split up, one group to scout out their position, one group to track down Yuuta’s team. If this is a false alarm no harm, no foul, keep it quiet and simple. If we’re lucky, then we’re in and out within six hours and heading back home with the all-clear from Yuuta. That’s the best case scenario."
They spent a while longer just resting, no time for sleep right yet, but enough so that they weren’t quite so strung out and tired, before putting the plan, such as it was, into action. No need for a detailed plan of motion when they didn't even know exactly what was going to be needed. The transformation from ANBU agents to civilians simply seeking shelter from the on-coming storm (and Yuugao had to admit that she appreciated the fact that the weather in the winter made it easier to pull off simple deceptions like that--anyone with eyes could see that another storm was coming).
She left her hair down, loose, knowing that even just that aided in their being perceived as harmless, and they approached the gates, getting through easily. No one paid any more attention to them than they did to other travelers.
Splitting into two teams, her and the quiet Touya went to go and inspect the area around the Daimyo’s house and grounds, while Shunsuke and Kouhei went to the hotel. The grounds were all but bustling this time of day, and they didn't even try to slip inside through any of the obvious access points.
Carefully, oh so carefully, they snuck in through the gardens--all Konoha ninja were stronger in the midst of their natural environment, and trees were just about as close as possible to emulating the forests around their home--and were, within short order, inside the compound. Their cloaks had been left high up in a tree where the only thing that was likely to happen to them were birds making messes of them.
Both of them could live with that, and easily.
Then, of course, just as they were moving to go and inspect the compound fully, it was that one of Shunsuke's robins alighted on her shoulder, cheeping urgently.
Yuugao froze, a quick gesture from her had Touya slinking off to guard while she conversed with the small bird. It was too little a summon for full speech, but everyone who worked with Shunsuke knew well enough the basic code that the bird used to communicate.
She listened, relaxing slightly when she realized that it was not there to warn of pending attack, but rather of the fact that Yuuta and the others were at the hotel. Whistling out a quick tune--it was one of the more common ditty's in this area, and she knew good and well that it'd go unnoticed this time of the day--she called Shunsuke back.
They made for the hotel with easy speed and Yuugao couldn't help the slow smile that ghosted across her face.
"You're looking forward to a fight," Touya observed.
No point in denying it. "So what if I am?"
So what, indeed.
--
By the time she reached the cell they were being kept in, Ino was fighting back tears from pain in earnest. She couldn’t heal her knees right now, or her hands, and all she could really do was try not to think too much on just how bad everything hurt.
The human body was not meant to spend hours crawling around in the dark, on hands and knees, where sharp rocks and bumpy ceilings were what the world narrowed down to. She huddled, a pained heap of a girl, just under the opening that lead back into the room and tried to clear her mind enough to listen.
She couldn’t hear anything. Ino didn’t know if that was good or bad but, choosing to believe that it meant her disappearance hadn’t been found out, knew that she couldn’t stay just outside of the room. If Megumi-san hadn’t been returned yet, then surely she would soon. Ino forced herself up on one knee, and then the other, using her arms to lift herself out of the shallow depth that only a few short hours ago she’d jumped down easily.
Once in the room, Ino knew better than to stop moving before as much evidence of her ‘adventure’ was as hidden as she could make it. The most important one, of course, was the hole in the wall. Strangling the whimpers of pain that the slab of rock elicited from her hands Ino forced it back the way it had been before she’d leaned against it. In the near dark of the room-and now she could tell that it wasn’t nearly as dark as the tunnel, though it had seemed to be so before she’d gone out-she thought the panel looked about the same.
It would have to do. Ino scuffed the floor, gathering up the threadbare blankets they had, and wrapping them around her tightly. They would have to do as camouflage for now, and she scrubbed at her face, trying to get rid of the dirt, of the tear tracks, knowing that there was no way she’d be able to get her face as clean as it had been before her trip.
Eventually she gave it up as a lost cause-she couldn’t tell how her face was, just that it felt scraped and there was no way in this dark little room of making it cleaner. Ino buried her face against her knees, huddling up in a little blanketed ball, and making sure it covered her hands in addition to everything else.
She was grateful that her hair was brown. If it had been blonde for this mission the dirt that she could feel, grainy and gross against her skull, would have been obvious just from a glance. In the dark though, Ino wagered her hair had a fair chance at going unnoticed. Making herself breathe deep and even she forced herself to relax slowly, just a little, in the hopes of giving her back and shoulders some relief.
Ino was fast asleep within minutes.
It was later, hours, minutes, days, she didn’t know how much later it was, when the door to the cell slammed open with a crash and she jerked awake, her muscles protesting their sudden use after her folly of falling asleep without properly stretching them out. Ino squinted against the harsh light of the lanterns and huddled further into her blanket as two men in flak jackets and hitae-ite strode into the room with the limp form of a woman between them.
Her heart caught in her throat, there was only one woman that it could be, and Ino couldn’t help the way her breathing sped up as she fought off panic. “Onee-san--!” she made herself tumble off the low, hard bed, hoping it passed inspection of a reaction of someone who’d just woken up, and nothing more suspicious than that as she clutched the blanket tighter around her and over to the trio.
“She’s still alive,” one of them said, in a low gravelly voice. “Be glad she’s unconscious, little one.”
A tiny, tiny part of herself wondered how young she must appear right that moment to earn that. Big eyed, messy hair, tear stains and clinging to a blanket as she let new tears well up and fall over the still form of her sister.
She hovered anxiously, making little noises of distress as the two shinobi put Megumi-san down on the bed she’d just vacated with surprising gentleness. That, she noted with a part of herself that Ino hadn’t even been aware of being able to be so cold before this mission, meant that Megumi-san hadn’t broken, that she’d managed to keep up the charade of them being just siblings with an unfortunate tale.
If she’d broken, no doubt they’d have been a lot rougher.
Ino had a split second, as they set her down, to debate how to further that impression in their minds-it was a useful one, and if they’d kept it up so long then it would be nothing but a waste to give up. And then, as the two shinobi straightened up, Ino burst into tears, that were mostly fake, but at the same time were a relief to be able to cry all at once, and just sobbed into the blanket, wailing something about she wanted to go home and that they hadn’t done anything to deserve this, and her poor Onee-san was dead, dead, dead...
A large hand patted her awkwardly on the shoulder, and Ino, fighting the urge to cringe away, instead made herself lean into it. “She’ll wake up,” the first voice said again, “she not dead.”
That was all the reassurance she got as Junko-chan, as the hand and the shinobi who it belonged to passed by her, as she continued to cry, but hurried to her ‘sister’s’ side, as the men headed for the door.
“Poor fuckers,” the other muttered, as they stepped out of the room, taking their lanterns with them. “Look at them, they’re nothing but-”
The other shushed him with a glance, and Ino gave no sign of having noticed, all her attention outwardly focused on her ‘sister’. Their cell door shut, and the ominous sounds of the locks being slid back into place made her shiver even as her hands-rubbed as clean on the blanket as she could manage-gently reached to inspect Megumi-san’s wounds.
Pain, she realized, with a heavy heart, the injuries had all been inflicted to cause the maximum amount of pain with the least bit of damage being done. Ino wished, again, that she could use her chakra to help smooth out the ache of at least a few of the wounds.
She didn’t dare though, and instead devoted herself to sniffling (for the audience she was sure they had) and doing her best to make Megumi-san as comfortable as possible in the circumstances. At one point water and a meager bit of food was brought by, and Ino used about half the water for cleaning both her knees and hands out, as well as Megumi-san’s injuries.
Hours later, she thought anyway, her sense of time was out of whack, the air changed as Megumi-san woke up.
“Onee-san?” ‘Junko’ quavered, as she lowered her head to touch Megumi-san’s hair, and her cheek, knowing that even as injured as she was, Megumi-san would note the scrapes on her hands.
“Junko-chan,” Megumi-san’s voice was pained, but clear. “What have you been up too?” It was a question on many levels. Ino knew which one she wanted answered most.
She lowered her head further, until her lips were near Megumi-san’s ear-she didn’t know enough sign language to get a message like this across. “Waiting for you to wake up,” she wobbled out, even as she added, in a voice that was scarcely above a whisper-
“I found a way out.”
--
Previous Chapter // Chapter List // Next Chapter