Nine

Author: princessgolux
Title: Nine
Fandom: Naruto
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto and I gain no profit from this story.
Chapter Pairings: none
Chapter Rating: PG
Story Rating: NC-17
Chapter Warnings: AU/AR; teeny bit of cussing, woobies!
A/N: Thank you Ryu Earth! I hope this chapter begins to shed some light on some of the mysteries that have been developing. Not all, of course, otherwise there wouldn’t be more story to tell.


Chapter 12: Nine

Konoha City, Konoha
Fire Country
519 A.T.D

Ibiki walked into the office at the top of Hokage Tower and homesickness exploded in his gut. He breathed in a single sharp breath, amazed at the force of the eruption inside him. It was as though the burning feeling had been lurking unfelt and unnoticed, the entire time he’d been gone, only to emerge full force at the sight of sunlight gleaming on the Konoha skyline.

“This was the longest you’ve been out in the field.”

It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, Hokage-sama.” Ibiki said, bowing.

The Sandaime nodded, still looking out at the city. “Your debrief?”

“Satisfactory.”

“Hm.” The Sandaime turned to face him. “You have the scroll?”

“Yes.” Ibiki stepped forward and pulled a scroll out of his pocket, placing it on the desk. The Hokage picked it up and examined it for a moment. He made a few swift seals and a small panel appeared on the surface of the desk. He opened the panel, slid the scroll in, and then sealed it shut.

Silence stretched between them. Ibiki felt he should leave, but something inside him, somethin tangled in the painful and sudden evocation of home, was welling up. He scarcely knew what he was saying before it tumbled from his mouth.

“Pull him out.” He blurted out. He bit his lip in embarrassment, but the Hokage merely pulled his hat down as if to hide his eyes from view. “Hokage-sama!”

“Has Daisuke made so ill an impression?”

“No...it’s just...no...” Ibiki trailed off. Truthfully, he knew what he wanted to say, but faced with the actuality of the conversation it all seemed so selfish.

I’m afraid for him.

He’s the first real friend I’ve made since...

“Ibiki.” The Sandaime skewered him with a direct and penetrating look. “Do you still think of yourself as a monster?”

Yes, of course.

Ibiki opened his mouth.

And closed it.

He thought about the question, digging ruthlessly inside himself for an answer that would encompass his newfound sense of equilibrium.

“Not all the time.” He said quietly. “And less and less since I met him.”

He met the Hokage’s eyes with a certain defiance, and found in them understanding.

“So.” The Hokage turned back to contemplate the city.

“Hokage-sama?”

“I can’t explain to you what’s at stake.” The Sandaime said quietly. “But know this. That man has a rare heart. And that is exactly why he is the only one who can complete the mission that has been entrusted to him.”

“Even if it destroys him?”

“We are shinobi. That is a risk we take.”

Ibiki bowed his head. “Yes, Hokage-sama.”

He turned to leave, but after a moment of agonizing self-doubt he turned back. He knelt down, prostrating himself.

“Hokage-sama. I wish to petition the Council for a Miroku pledge.”

The Sandaime swiftly turned, shock apparent in every line of his body. “What?”

“I would like to petition the Council...”

“Stop.” The Hokage leaned forward, putting his hands on his desk. Ibiki shivered a little at the force of the Hokage’s regard. “My understanding, Ibiki, was that you hated the institution of slavery. Collars, seals, all the means by which one individual is rendered property of another.”

“I do.”

“Yet you intend to petition the Council to...”

Comprehension dawned. He closed his eyes against the knowledge.

“Touji Mizuki.” He stated with certainty.

“Yes.” Ibiki didn’t dare ask how he knew.

“Yare, yare.” The Hokage sat down at his desk, rubbing his face.

“You do understand,” he said delicately, “that at this moment, Konoha does not officially know where he is?”

“I understand.” Ibiki said, still prostrate on the floor. “And I understand that it will be an unspecified amount of time before this even becomes an issue. But by Konoha law, any nuke-nin under sentence of death, who has not been convicted of murder or rape, can have that sentence commuted to life in slavery, provided there is someone willing to stand surety for him or her in the form of a Miroku pledge.”

“When the time comes, I would like to be considered by the Council as a bondsman for Touji Mizuki.”

The Hokage sighed deeply.

“Blessed Jizo, you are unpredictable sometimes.” He muttered. “Fine. When the time comes, I will present your petition to the Council. But!” He raised a hand, forestalling Ibiki’s positive response.

“I would like you to think about this, Ibiki. Think very carefully. This is a dangerous road you’re thinking about starting down. It is long and difficult, and I have grave doubts about whether it will turn out at well as you believe it will.”

“Understood, Hokage-sama. Thank you.” Ibiki said, grateful.

“I’m not sure you should thank me. Not yet.” The Sandaime looked at him critically. “But we’ll see when the time comes.”

He sat back, contemplating Ibiki.

“There is a vacancy in the Torture and Interrogation Squad.” he said finally. “Yoshino was recently appointed jounin and has been taking more solo missions lately.”

“As of now I’m placing you there. You may be ideally suited to understand the movements of the criminal underground right now, particularly as regards to matters relating to Akatsuki. Anything you hear about them should be kept out of the official records, of course, but I would like you to begin compiling a series of shadow documents, records that can be accessed when necessary. Bring them directly to me, for my eyes only.”

“Yes, Hokage-sama.” Ibiki said, rising.

“Ibiki.” The Hokage looked grave. “You understand power better than most. Remember, therefore, that when we take control of someone else’s life, we give them power over our own.”

“I understand, Hokage-sama.” Ibiki said, preparing to leave. Once more he paused.

“He should be starting the job today.” he said quietly.

“Hmm.” The Hokage hummed an acknowledgement.

“If...if something should...happen...to him?”

“I’ll let you know.” The Hokage said gently.

“Thank you, Hokage-sama.” Ibiki bowed once more and left.

The Hokage swiveled in his chair and looked over his city once more, thinking about a man walking into a tiger’s den wearing the face of a dead man.

Be careful today, child.” He thought desperately. Be very, very careful.


Kado City, Steel Country
519 A.T.D

Himawari Daisuke stepped into the cool climate-controlled interior of the nondescript building. He paused as he passed the threshold, giving himself a moment to let his eyes adjust to the dimmer light.

“Right this way, sir.” The automaton that showed him in was flawless, human in apearance and movement, with only the electronic timbre of his voice betraying his robotic nature. Daisuke weighed the likelihood of being able to overpower it and felt pretty sure he’d die fairly quickly.

Goody. Been here twenty seconds and I’m already outclassed.

Good thing I want to stay. Otherwise I’d be totally screwed.

He followed, docile as a lamb, memorizing the layout as he went. They passed a number of bland, uninteresting doors before they came to a rickety, ancient elevator. They creaked up one floor and then the android plugged the tip of his forefinger into a small port and the back wall opened up. They stepped into another elevator, this one sleek and shiny. It plunged down without anything to signify depth, but Daisuke figured he’d descended at least ten floors.

The elevator door opened again and the android gestured with the hand that wasn’t plugged into the wall. “Through that way, sir. You are expected.”

“Thanks.” Daisuke said, nodding, and disembarked.

The elevator door closed and for a brief, disorienting moment, Daisuke was plunged into complete darkness. He drew a calming breath and waited patiently, and was rewarded by the right wall sliding open to reveal Mizuki and another man, standing in tastefully decorated waiting room.

“Himawari-san.” Mizuki greeted him cordially, with only the barest tinge of irritation. Daisuke had to give it to him, the guy was smooth. You’d never guess he was missing an enforcer, or that he suspected (erroneously) that the man he’d been ordered to hire must have killed his right-hand bullyboy.

But he had no way to confirm or deny that suspicion since he couldn’t admit to the plot in the first place without losing a new, more valuable resource.

Thinking of G-chan, happily getting his brains fucked out even now, Daisuke smiled warmly, just to yank his host’s tail.

Mizuki gritted his teeth but continued with barely a pause. “I’d like to introduce you to Yashamaru-san. Yashamaru-kun, this is Himawari Daisuke-san.”

Yashamaru was dainty and delicate-looking. He wore soft, clinging clothing and exuded an air of comfort and home. Daisuke read training in his movements, however, and he saw the recognition of his own training in the smaller man’s eyes.

“Yashamaru-san.” He said politely, and bowed. I won’t underestimate you.

“Himawari-san.” Yashamaru replied, bowing in turn. Nor I you.

Mutual boundaries and battle lines firmly established, the two men turned toward their host. Mizuki was watching with a critical eye, but Daisuke wasn’t certain how much of his new employees’ exchange he was able to discern. He tucked that thought away as Mizuki gestured for the two former shinobi to follow him.

They walked down another bland hallway, this one cool and metallic, a direct contrast to the warped plaster and peeling paint upstairs. After several twists and turns the hallway ended in a seeming dead-end. Mizuki turned to them, his irritation eclipsed by poorly concealed excitement.

“Through this door, gentlemen, your new jobs begin. It will be two months before you are allowed outside again, although once the initial bonding time has passed you will be allowed to come and go freely, with only a few precautionary restrictions.” He waved at the wall. “In the viewing chamber it is essential that you maintain absolute silence. The subjects are quite sensitive and alert to the slightest noise.”

Daisuke nodded at the same time as his counterpart, and Mizuki looked satisfied and turned back to the wall. He placed his palm against the surface and a small viewer popped out. He placed his eye to it, and then Daisuke felt a tiny surge of chakra.

Palm print, DNA analyzer, retinal scan, and chakra recognition scanner. The Lady’s lab itself isn’t sewn up this tight.

The wall irised open silently and the three men entered a small room. The iris closed behind them and a heartbeat afterward the far wall shimmered, growing first translucent, and then transparent. It took every ounce of Daisuke’s grueling three years of training to keep his body calm and his chakra silent.

His mission was finally beginning.

Beyond the clear glass barrier two young boys were playing. Both looked to be about four years old, chubby and uncoordinated as children are. One was delicate and pale with wild red hair and soft turquoise eyes. He was playing in box of sand, lumping it into mounds and trickling it through his fingers.

The other was a bit darker complected, his skin looking slightly tanned, as though he’d somehow found a sun in this underground labyrinth. His hair was a bright blond, all jagged peaks standing at electrified attention. He tumbled around the play space, his eyes a brilliant and shining blue, rolling and leaping, clumsily battling imaginary foes with imaginary skills.

Daisuke couldn’t help it. A grin tugged the corner of his mouth up and he had to concentrate hard not to laugh out loud.

Merciful Goddess. I never imagined he’d be so...cute.

They stood there in silence, watching the two boys play. After about five minutes the redhead dropped his handful of sand and turned to walk to his companion.

All the sand in the box followed him, several million faithful pets, heeling behind their owner.

Daisuke felt rather than heard Yashamaru inhale a soft breath. Mizuki turned to glare at him, but the damage was done.

Both boys spun around to face the three viewers. The redhead raised his hands and the obedient sand spun around him in a vortex and solidified into a solid wall, with only a small space left open for the brilliant blue-green eyes to peer out of.

The other boy headed for his sand-bound friend, throwing himself in front of the red-head in a painfully sloppy somersault that turned into an out of control tumble. He passed his quiet and still compatriot, who was assiduously ignoring him, and fetched up hard against the far wall, impacting with an audible splat.

He lay there, looking stunned and angry for a few seconds, and then clambered to his feet, impulsively kicking the wall he’d hit.

Daisuke could actually see the moment the child remembered his original intent. His blue eyes widened as the situation was recalled and he raced back over to the hard shell of sand, placing himself on front of it protectively and glaring defiantly at the men watching.

It was ludicrous. The redhead obviously needed no protection. He was well defended by his sand and his skill.

It was laughable. The blond kid could barely walk, let alone fight. Just from watching him for five minutes it was plain to see that the kid had no sense of balance, no grace, no flexibility, no chakra control, and no talent.

Plus he had the attention span of a tomato.

It was stupid and unnecessary...

...and gallant as all hell.

Daisuke felt his throat get tight again and blinked his eyes to dispel stinging. He kept breathing through the emotions, fighting to keep his cooler-than-thou persona from taking a mortal blow. He could not lose it here. After three years he could quite literally hold the henge in his sleep, but strong emotion always threatened his control.

Gods! Three years of pulling off the most crazy shit Tsunade-sama could come up with and I’m more in danger from a clumsy, earnest toddler than I ever was from hired security and over-zealous would be employers combined.

Mizuki slapped a button and the glass began to tint, regaining its opacity. Another, smaller door opened at the far side of the observation room and Mizuki herded the two men through it, scowling.

“I told you no noise.” he snapped at them. Yashamaru bowed deeply, looking distressed.

“I apologize profusely Touji-dono.” he said, apparently stricken. “It was an unforgivable lapse of concentration. I was just so amazed by...your subjects.” He bowed deeply again. “I am honored beyond measure that you would allow me to be part of this glorious undertaking, and mortified beyond words that I could make such a tremendous mistake. I assure you, it will not happen again.”

He bowed a third time.

Daisuke made no comment, keeping his gaze neutral and non-judgmental. He was pretty sure that the noise had been deliberate, some kind of test on the part of Yashamaru. But he’d enjoyed the result, so it was no skin off his ass.

Mizuki looked mollified by the effusive apology. Daisuke caught glimpse of lust flash across Mizuki’s eyes and disappear. Yashamaru kept his head lowered, but Daisuke felt certain that their boss’ reaction had not gone unnoticed.

In fact, I think he was counting on it.

Daisuke thanked his lucky stars that his role wouldn’t require him to seduce Mizuki.

He’s just as petty and self-centered as he was as a child, but now...

...there is something deeply wrong there. I can practically smell it.

“I’ll overlook it this time,” Mizuki said benevolently, obviously feeling his control to be restored, “but don’t let it happen again.”

“I promise you will have my obedience, Touji-dono, and I thank you for your generosity.” Yashamaru murmured.

Mizuki nodded, pleased at the obeisance.

“Very well, gentlemen. You have now seen the subjects. I will show you to your rooms and then we will have your official introductions. Yashamaru-kun,” he turned to the quiet man, “you will be in charge of One. It’s the red-haired subject with control over sand. It’s proven something of a challenge, so don’t underestimate it.”

“Himawari-san will be in charge of Nine.” Mizuki smirked a little. “You’ll have your work cut out for you, there. It’s a violent and brutal animal with no respect for its betters. I wish you luck with that one. You’ll need it.”

“You will be their tutors, their teachers, their guides through these early stages of learning. You will teach them stealth, jutsu, and the killing arts. Akatsuki feels that you are both appropriate tutors for this stage of their development. Later they will be apprenticed directly to members of Akatsuki’s Council, so be flattered that the Council has seen fit to entrust them to you for the duration of your employment.”

“They both have the capacity to become assassins the likes of which this world has never seen.”

“It goes without saying that you –and they - will be closely monitored at all times, and that any hint of betrayal or attempt at subversion will be swiftly discovered and punished.”

“You have two years, gentlemen. Our Executive Director wishes to see these beasts initially deployed in the field within two years. If they aren’t ready in that time the subjects will be terminated.”

He looked at them each in turn. “If it comes to that, gentlemen, the Executive Director will be most displeased. And he is not an enemy either of you can afford to have.”

“Two years, huh?” Daisuke said, considering. “It’ll be tough. That kid’s got zero talent.”

Mizuki smirked again.

“Still,” Daisuke continued, “he’s got serious guts. It could be doable.”

Mizuki lost his smirk.

“Lead the way, Mizuki-san.” Daisuke said brightly. “The sooner I meet this kid of yours, the sooner you’ll have your chibi assassins, right? And the sooner I start getting paid, the better.”

“So let’s get this party started. Right now.”

Four days later, Daisuke was ready to kill the kid.

The kid couldn’t throw a shuriken in a straight line if there was a line attached to it, guiding it along the way. He couldn’t perform the most basic of jutsu – his henge and his bunshin were both pretty much non-existent. He couldn’t perform the most basic acrobatics without hitting a wall or the floor, usually with his head.

And he couldn’t even spell the word ‘stealth.’

Nine was without a doubt the worst ninja Daisuke had ever seen.

“Sensei, sensei!” Nine was wobbling atop the tightrope, stretched out three feet above the floor. “Look at me! Look at me!”

But he was also determined and sweet, and so damn earnest it hurt.

Daisuke’s face softened. “Well done, Kyuu-chan.”

Nine looked up, startled, and promptly fell off the tightrope.

Daisuke winced. Yare, yare.

“Kyuu...chan?” Nine’s voice wavered a little. His blue eyes looked stunned.

“Well, Nine seems a bit cold, ne?” Daisuke said warmly. For all his shortcomings in the realm of physical coordination, Nine was a good kid, desperate for attention.

“I’ll tell you what,” Daisuke said, his tone conspiratorial, “If you can complete the obstacle course in under ten minutes, I’ll get you a treat.”

“Really!” Nine yelled. “YOSH!”

He scrambled up and ran for the starting point. Daisuke kept an eye on him as he went to the intercom and told the guard outside what he wanted.

Thirty minutes and four tries later, Nine was lying on the floor gasping for breath, his little chubby face triumphant.

“Didja see, Sensei?” He panted, sweat pouring down his face. “Didja see?”

“Yes, Kyuu-chan.” Daisuke said approvingly. “You did very well, very well indeed.”

“Heh, heh.” Nine chuckled, still breathing hard. He swiveled his head to look at Daisuke. “Treat, Sensei? Do I get a treat?”

Daisuke grinned. “I ordered it before you started.” His voice gentled, became even warmer.

“I had faith in you, you see.”

“Sensei...” Nine’s eyes grew teary.

The intercom buzzed and Daisuke walked over to it. “Send it in.”

Three guards came in, one with a gun and two with large covered bowls. They set the bowls down just inside the entrance to the training room and one pulled out a small bag and set it down next to the food. Daisuke nodded to them and they left.

Daisuke retrieved one of the bowls and brought it over to Nine, who had pulled himself into a sitting position to watch. Daisuke set the bowl down and went back, grabbing the bag and the other bowl. He sat down on the floor across from the wide-eyed child and placed a pair of chopsticks in front of him. Then he pulled the covers off of the bowls and set them aside.

The rich smell of miso and pork wafted out of the dishes, warming the sterile atmosphere.

“This, “ Daisuke said gravely, “is ramen.”

“Ra... men?” Nine looked from the food to his sensei, stunned. Tears began to leak out the corners of his eyes.

Daisuke nodded, pretending not to notice. “Before you eat, you should always say ‘itadakimasu.’ It’s polite.”

He picked up the untouched chopsticks and offered them to the child.

“Itadakimasu, Kyuu-chan.”

Nine scrubbed the back of his hand across his eyes and took the utensils.

“Itadakimasu.” His voice cracked a little, but he began to eat the hot noodles.

“S’good.” He mumbled through his full mouth, sniffing a little.

Daisuke smiled and began to eat as well.

For a while the only sound in the room was slurping and chewing as the two ate the hot ramen. Daisuke was almost halfway done when Nine’s head began to droop and his chopsticks sank to rest against the inside of his bowl.

“We’re going to have to have treats at the end of the day, it seems.” He said, smiling. “You look like you need a nap, kiddo.”

“Nee, Sensei...” Nine mumbled.

“Yes?” Daisuke asked. “What is it Kyuu...” Nine raised his head. “...chan...?” Daisuke finished automatically, his heart rate accelerating.

Nine’s eyes were no longer blue. They were bright red, the crimson stain of arterial blood, and the pupils were elongated and animalistic.

“Kyuubi.” Daisuke breathed. His mind raced. After days of working with Nine, there had been no sign of the ancient being inside this child. Akatsuki hadn’t even admitted the kids were Jinchuuriki, hosts for tailed beasts. According to Mizuki, they were genetic experiments.

Daisuke had known that was a lie, but since he wasn’t supposed to know about the Kyuubi, the nine-tailed demon fox, he had taken it for granted that the beast had never manifested, never given Akatsuki any reason to believe it would.

Therefore he hadn’t expected to come face to face with the demon.

“Who are you?” The voice that rumbled out of the tiny chest was not the cheerful and impassioned four-year-old’s, but dark and knowledgeable, even cruel.

“I’m Himawari Daisuke.” Daisuke said evenly. “I have been hired by Akatsuki...”

“That’s a lie.”

Daisuke sat very still. “I am Himawari Daisuke...”

“That’s a lie, Sensei.”

“I am...”

“Don’t lie again.” The Kyuubi’s voice sounded amused, but not at all patient. “I have control of the cameras right now. They only see what I want them to see. But I can’t hold them for long. So tell me, sensei, truthfully. Who. Are. You?”

Daisuke was silent.

Nine cocked his head to the side. “All right.”

He leaned forward. “I’ll make you a bargain. I’ll tell you how best to train this child, tell you why he’s so clumsy.”

“Why would you do that?” Daisuke said neutrally.

“Because he is my host.” The Kyuubi sounded irritated. “Akatsuki has no idea how to train him.”

“Why would you want him trained?” Daisuke said coolly. “If he dies, you’re free, correct?”

“No.” The Kyuubi snapped. “If this contract ends I go back to the demon plane. It’s boring there. There’s no one good to eat.”

Daisuke blinked.

“Here at least things are interesting.” The Kyuubi continued, sounding more like a petulant child than Daisuke would have imagined. “Even if the nature of this contract currently keeps me from eating anyone, at least it’s not boring.”

He fixed his red eyes on Daisuke.

“So. Tell me. Tell me and I can help you.” His tone turned menacing. “Or don’t tell me and I will make sure the cameras see through your disguise. You’d be killed awfully quickly then, sensei, wouldn’t you?”

Daisuke ground his teeth. “All right.”

He took a deep breath and allowed the personality of Himawari Daisuke to recede, keeping only his appearance.

“My real name is Umino Iruka. I’m here to rescue this child and take him back to Konoha.”

The Kyuubi laughed. “How are you going to do that?”

Iruka shrugged. “I don’t know yet. But knowing how to train him will help.”

“True.” The Kyuubi considered this. “All right. Stop trying to teach him techniques.”

“What?” Iruka said, frowning.

“Through me he has the buried memories of more assassination skills than you will ever learn in your pitifully short life.” The Kyuubi said. “But his body can’t perform them. Work on building his body, on building his muscles to the point where they can handle what he already innately knows. Work on building his chakra system to be able to encompass my energy. The rest will come.”

“I only have two years before they will kill him if he doesn’t improve.”

“Then,” the Kyuubi said, darkly amused, “you’d better figure out how to get him out of here before then. Right, Sensei?”

His head dropped again.

Iruka stared at the top of Nine’s head, mind working furiously.

Two years.

Two years.

I’ve got to find a way out of here.

I’ve got to make him stronger.

Two years...

“Sensei?” Bright blue eyes peered anxiously at him. “This is really good. Can we have ramen every day?”

Iruka swallowed. The cameras were back on.

“No, kiddo.” He said, pulling Himawari Daisuke’s personality back around him like a sweater. “Treats are special.”

Nine’s face fell.

“But,” Iruka said, considering, “if you work really hard every day, I’ll reward you at the end of every week. Is that a deal?”

“YES!” Nine crowed, grinning wildly. “Whoo-hoo! Ramen!”

Iruka smiled at him.

He really is something, Sandaime. I think you will be pleased.

I swear I will get him out of here, away from Akatsuki.

I swear I will bring him back to Konoha, somehow.

I don’t know how, yet, but I have two years to figure it out, and I will save him, I promise you that.

I swear it.

I will bring him home.