I rember a ti in the before when all I wanted was to sleep. Dad had passed away not long before. Mom didn’t have the ntal bandwidth to worry about all the trouble that followed, her job, the press attention, and the death threats. It was, now that I think about it, closer to how I felt after finding the clones.
No, wait. That example got away from . Point is, for a ti, I just couldn’t care about caring for myself. It took Kimby’s literal bitch slapping into action to leave that funk. Huh, dear chubby Kimberly. I hope that bitch Veronica didn’t ss with my bae too much.
Argh, no, that wasn’t what I wanted to think as well. The real point is, at that ti, I felt like I had no control over myself. I knew what I had to do, I just couldn’t. After our first kiss, Kimby had asked about that ti, and no amount of words was enough to explain how I felt. I think she never had the fra of reference to understand.
But for the last ti, the real point of this strange monologue was, I knew I had to do sothing. And I couldn’t. But this ti, it wasn’t so sort of ntal fugue keeping down. It was just physical abuse.
In the brief monts my consciousness surfaced from that haze, things just turned worse. I learned pretty quickly that moving was a bad idea, circulating chakra was an even worse idea. Trying to look around only earned punishnt.
I rembered bits and pieces. The ambush, getting separated from the team. eting up with Sai, his betrayal. Why?
As far as I could piece together, things took a strange turn. I was a bonafide kunoichi in distress now. Captured and kept under constant physical strain. That one took a while to puzzle out why. A conversation helped understand.
It was one of brief monts when I surfaced, half lucid, and still confused. I tried to lash out, move and get away. The hit to the head left reeling and seeing stars. The comnt after was illuminating.
“Again?” A voice I didn’t recognize asked.
“Third ti today,” another voice answered.
I groaned, which was a mistake. Sothing else hit .
“She’s tenacious.” A third voice said.
“She can regenerate, use jutsu without hand seals, can use shadow clones, and will murder everyone here if she ever wakes up.” An emotionless voice said. It felt familiar, but I couldn’t place a face to the voice.
At the ti I rember thinking that I wouldn’t murder everyone. I wasn’t a murder hobo, after all.
That bit of information got stuck in my head. Each ti I woke up, that conversation kept returning. I think I know why this is happening. Whoever was keeping prisoner was well aware of what I could do. How do you keep captive a shinobi that doesn’t need hand seals, can clone herself and is a regenerator? They went with the brute force approach, I guess. Keep that shinobi on the brink of death.
After understanding that, I tried to fake being hurt. Not that I really need to fake it out. I was hurt. But I was trying to get a few needed monts to center myself, and assess the situation. It didn’t help. Those bastards seed to be on a schedule. Punishnt would co on a tily basis, even if I tried to play the fake card.
There was more conversation I heard, that helped with more context.
“… not sure when we can move…” a voice said.
“…Kirigakure ninjas up in arms…”
“…routes guarded, civil war preventing…”
“…a giant wall of trees blocking the way…”
“…reinforcents sniffing around…”
It was strange that even when not in any condition to do anything, my mind still road. Those tidbits helped co up with a few assumptions. I’m guessing the kidnap attempt ended up going up in flas when Yamato summoned wood to help him escape. That would put the whole of Kiri on alert, not to ntion the reinforcents from Konoha. I wasn’t sure about the civil war one, but maybe it was sothing related to their Kage being a puppet? In the end, my guess was that the kidnappers had no choice but to go underground and wait until the fires died down.
That at least gave so hope that Yamato was still alive. But what about Hayase?
Again, I wasn’t sure how much ti had passed, all of it was a blur. Most of my ntal faculties were busy contending with the pain. There were a few acute points that worried . First and foremost, my head. Even trying to think was agony. It felt like they cracked my skull and scrambled my brain. I didn’t even know brains could hurt, but I swear it did.
Then my arms and hands. I think they were broken. The position I was in, I think sohow I was hanging from my hands.
Two other problems were the injuries from the battle. My sides where that shinobi managed to stab with a kunai was pure fiery agony. The smallest of breaths was like lava spreading from there. The other was the puncture on my thighs. Had these savages removed the embedded shuriken? It didn’t feel like they did, not with how much pain radiated from there. My eyes were swollen and closed shut.
All in all, I was thoroughly fucked. In a real bad way. But I had a plan. I just needed more ti.
Even with all their preparations, one thing they couldn’t prevent was sensing the chakra around. I had a good impression of this hidey-hole layout. It was easy when the whole complex was surrounded by a layer of chakra that felt dangerous. This sa layer also prevented from sensing anything outside the complex. That let know how many people I had to contend with. I also had a fairly good idea how strong they were. There were two I would consider jounin levels of chakra, five that I was thinking of as chunin. There were more chakra signatures around, but those were low ones, genin, probably, and given how they didn’t move, I was inclined to think they were also prisoners.
My plans didn’t involve saving any of them. Yes, that was brutal, and by all accounts of morality, I should help these people. I felt bad that I was following in Orochimaru’s footsteps here and choosing to not burden myself with the traps of morality, at least for this instance. I wanted to live, I was going to live.
Peeking on shinobies through chakra perception let learn a few of their patterns. Every few hours, a three man cell— jounin and two chunin— left. They never stayed away for long. Sotis one hour, sotis less. Sotis, they took so of the imprisoned genin with them; other tis, they brought more. I had my suspicions about things but, back to my plan.
Maybe because my lack of visible resistance lulled the enemies into going easy. Maybe they mistook how much my regeneration was capable of. The more ti passed, the more alert and aware of my surroundings I was. That gave an urgent feeling that I had to get the hell outta of here. The sooner, the better.
It wasn’t going to be easy. Careful probing told a few things: I don’t think I was naked— thank god— but I wasn’t wearing my shinobi gear. My weight seals weren’t on anymore, my bag of supplies was awol. My hands were tied to the walls, maybe ceiling. The feelings from there left thinking about Iron chains, maybe.
No explosions, no kunai, no shinobi gear. Impaired vision, hurt, thirsty and hungry.
Thankfully, it wasn’t the worst-case scenario. If I could release the shackles from my arms and legs, I could puppeteer my body with threads. I was also planning on using them to get a good feel for my surroundings. Made think of a spider spreading her silk.
Timing was going to be of the essence here. I was on a clock. The three-man squad had already left, taking two genin with them. They would be back soon. I already had my chakra prid and ready, a single thought away from creating a beacon nearby. Now I just needed my jailer to piss off for a mont. Perhaps Fate-kun heard my pleas. The jailer left the cell, and the replacent was still a few rooms away.
I pushed my chakra. It burned, most of my reserves tanked. The beacon blossod in my mind.
For the first ti ever, I activated my jutsu. There was this brief mont of confusion. I was hanging by my hands, then I flopped on the ground on top of the wood kunai. My chakra exploded around with countless threads. I couldn’t see, but I didn’t need to see.
I wasn’t confident I could move on my own. Threads wrapped around my limbs. Jerky hand swatted the hardwood kunai, my beacon. I heard voices from the other side of the door, my escape hadn’t been unnoticed. Wood kunai in hand, I flickered forward, appearing behind the chunin that had just left the cell.
He might have been too surprised to react. My hand grabbed his neck. The other pushed the kunai below his chin, up to his brain. The man flailed, I let the body topple.
There was this mont of silence, before the place turned to chaos. The replacent was now rushing my way. The jounin and one other chunin were fast approaching as well. The trapped genin started screaming. So cursed, others yelled for to help them.
With my threads, I forced my swollen eyes open. I was doing my best to ignore the horrendous amount of pain I was in. If I stopped to think about that, I might just pass out, which wouldn’t do. With hazy vision, I noticed the place looked like a dank, dark cellar. There were several small cubicles barred by tal. Inside, children and teenagers yelling and screaming for help.
A flash of red behind one of the cubicle doors caught my attention, but I had other things to do before anything else. I had a few precious monts to assess the situation; a quick scan didn’t reveal anything I could use as a weapon. I doubled over and snatched the tool belt from the dead chunin. Smoke bombs, shuriken, kunai, wire. Useful, but nothing vital.
I was out of ti. The replacent chunin was about to enter the cellar. The door burst open, I threw the hardwood kunai. The kunoichi, a girl this ti, walked in, and I pushed my flying thunder god prototype again. She tried to dodge the kunai, unaware that the real threat was . I teleported in the air near the beacon. I snatched the weapon before it collided with the walls. With my other hand, I stabbed the kunoichi with the kunai I stole from the dead guy. Or I tried. My hand was empty. The kunai hadn’t teleported with . The stab turned into a punch, which gave ti to move my other hand and stab with the beacon.
I felt around with the threads. Yes, my clothes were left behind.
Huh, look at that. That emotionless voice person was right. I was absolutely going to murder the fuck out of everyone. In my birthday suit. Murder-exhibitionist-hobo , I guess.
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