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: R
Story Rating: NC-17
Chapter Warnings: AU/AR; cussin’, mind-fuckery, angst, discussions of slavery and mind/body control. Plus...Emotional!Ibiki!
A/N – Please remember that Ibiki - for that matter, all the characters in this fic – are a good ten years younger than they are in Naruto canon. They are not as hardened, and not as mature. They are older than Naruto is in Shippuden, but only a few years older.



Chapter Six: Collar


Kado City, Steel Country
518 A.T.D


A stately older gentleman made his way leisurely to the grand front doors of the Pearls & Swine Entertainment Palace. He nodded to the doorman on the way in and paused in the foyer, surveying the establishment. The room he was in was as large as a commercial bus terminal, decorated in dark greens and muted golds. Four archways led off in different directions, their entries coyly hidden behind velvet curtains in a deep forest green. Directly across from him, midway between the two inner arches, there was a stately desk with a lovely young woman in green livery behind it.

“Good evening, sir.” She welcomed him with a warmly professional smile. “I see this is your first time here. May I help direct you?”

“I was hoping for a drink, m’dear.” The gentleman smiled back. “Can you tell me which way I go to find one?”

“Certainly! Did you wish to drink in public or in private?”

“Oh, I like atmosphere, m’girl. Public will be just fine.”

“Our bar is located right through this door.” She indicated the archway closer to her on her left. “Would you care for company or would you rather be undisturbed?”

“Never say no to a pretty girl or two.” He winked at her.

She dimpled, her eyes curving into pleased crescents. “Very good, sir.” She stepped out from behind the desk and held the green velvet open. Another door whirred open behind the fall of fabric. “Please go on in. There will be a short hallway and the doors on the other side will automatically open once you arrive. Have a pleasant evening.”

He tipped his hat to her and passed through the door.

Contrary to what the girl said, a door opened not at the end of the short hallway, but in the wall just to the right. The gentleman paused, confused.

“Hello?”

There was no answer.

He peered into the doorway and saw a cozy little room with a small table and two chairs.

“I’m sorry, there’s been a mistake.” He called out. “I wanted the public room, not the private.”

The girl’s voice came over the intercom, cheerful and sweet.

“I’m sorry, sir. There’s been a bit of a technical mix-up. Please take a seat and someone will come straightaway to take you where you need to go.”

“Well, can’t I just come back?”

“I’m terribly sorry, sir, but the computer won’t allow me to re-open this door until the occupant has exited. Please, go in and take a seat. The chair will notify the proper personnel to come and fetch you. It won’t take a minute.”

The man entered the room warily and circled around it, looking for an exit. As soon as he was in the room, the door behind him shut.

“Well.” He said loudly, disgruntled. “This is not the quality of service I expected. I will want words with the manager, make no mistake.”

With a huffed breath he sat down.

Instantly metal straps closed around his arms and legs. He felt a sharp prick in the back of his neck and a cold sensation raced through his veins cutting off his connection to his limbs.

Fuck. he thought as he heard the pop of his henge releasing.

Then he fell into the dark and knew nothing.


***** ***** ***** *****


When Ibiki opened his eyes, he was still restrained but he had been moved to a small office with no windows. Two men with guns stood just behind him, one slightly to his left and one slightly to his right. In front of him was a small, efficient desk and behind the desk sat a woman, all in green, with a dark veil across her face. Just behind her right shoulder stood a tall man with dirty blond hair and cold, narrowed green eyes.

They all looked at each other in silence.

“You have two minutes to explain yourself.” The woman’s voice was coldly conversational. “And then my men will shoot you.”

Ibiki said nothing.

“Now you have one minute, forty five seconds.”

Ibiki said nothing.

“Well, I tried.” The woman stood up. “Shoot him.”

“My Lady.” The man behind her held up a hand. “Please wait.”

“Why?” She said bluntly. “He’s someone’s pet and useless. Better to kill him now.”

“I believe he may still be...a hunter. And therefore still useful.”

Ibiki’s eyes snapped to the man as felt a flicker of chakra, vaguely familiar to him. It disappeared immediately as the woman backhanded her companion, sending him flying against the back wall.

“He had thirty whole seconds, Daisuke. I’m done.”

She turned to the back wall as the blond man – Daisuke – rubbed his jaw and gathered himself up.

“Wait.” Ibiki said, taking a chance. “I am a hunter, as it turns out. Perhaps I could negotiate?”

“Make sure his body doesn’t turn up near here.” The woman put her hand on the wall and a retinal scanner slid out.

“And as it happens,” Ibiki continued, as though she hadn’t spoken, “the hunting is good this time of year.”

The woman paused as if weighing his words. Then she looked back over her shoulder.

“Well that’s tough, kid. I prefer hunting in the spring.”

Ibiki’s eyes widened.

Her?

“Fuu,” She said evenly, crossing her arms, “shoot him.”

“Wait, what!” Ibiki yelped, disbelieving his ears even as he heard the shot and felt the burning pain in his neck.

He slid down into darkness again, cursing.

**** **** ***** *****


Ibiki opened his eyes.

He was lying in a bed.

He was unrestrained.

He sat up and his head pounded.

Tranquilizers. He thought. How long have I been unconscious?

He felt his face and his jaw was rough, wiry hairs showing at least a day or two of growth.

He clutched his temples, stifling a groan. He scrutinized his surroundings. On the table next to the bed was a glass of water and a couple of regulation ANBU painkillers.

There was also a note.

Sorry ‘bout the headache, kid. Take your pills and come down to my real office. Yuu will show you the way.

Ibiki thought about breaking his guard’s neck and escaping, but the mission instructions were clear. The woman had provided the correct counter, therefore she was supposed to be his mission leader. And, as much as he would like to, he would be disobeying a direct order from his Hokage if he killed her.

He contemplated that for a moment as he took his pills and waited for his headache to subside.

I’ll wait, for now. Accidents have been known to happen, though.

In the heat of battle, of course.

Yuu, the guard outside, was a different man than the two from the office, but his presence felt similar. Ibiki thought Probably a sibling. He nodded to Ibiki and led him down a maze of dimly lit corridors dressed in the same golds and greens as the foyer above.

So I’m still at the whorehouse.

He followed docilely, not seeing any reason to cause the guard suspicion. He memorized the turns, mapping his escape route just in case. The hallway ended suddenly, dead-ending at a brick wall. A brick slid aside and Yuu peered through it.

“Brought the guest, My Lady.” He stepped back, motioning Ibiki back with a jerk of his chin.

There was a flare of powerful chakra and the wall disappeared, leaving an ordinary wall with a door in it.

Yuu nodded at it. “Through there, sir.”

Ibiki went in, cautiously.

This office looked lived in, the wide desk strewn with papers and sake cups. Behind it sat the same woman as before, her veil still hiding her face. Daisuke leaned casually against the far wall, but his green eyes were sharp, studying Ibiki intently.

“I am reporting for duty, as ordered.” Ibiki said.

“Are you?” The woman’s voice was still harsh. “You have two minutes to explain yourself, kid. And the explanation better be good.”

“My mission was to covertly make my way here and report to you.” Ibiki said warily. “That was all the information I was given.”

“Cut the shit, kid.” The woman roared, slapping the top of her desk as she rose to her feet. “Who else wanted you here? Who else are you working for?”

“I am a Konoha shinobi!” Ibiki said sharply. “I have no other loyalties.”

“Collars are illegal in Fire Country, asshole” Daisuke said harshly from his place against the wall. He sounded belligerent, menace and anger and, oddly, disappointment in his voice. “Try again.”

“Collars?” Ibiki said, confused but still agressive. “What have Collars to do with me?”

Daisuke held up a small remote and pushed a button. The right side of the wall dissolved into a picture. Ibiki saw himself in his old man disguise with a digital readout of all his various weapons scrolling down next to him.

At the top, set off in red, was the word “Collared.”

“That. Is. A. Lie!” Ibiki roared, spinning to face them. “I would never, never consent to be Collared, for anyone! Collars are vile! They go against everything I believe in! How dare you lay false accusations against me!”

The two exchanged a look, but otherwise seemed unmoved.

“I don’t know what your game is, woman.” Ibiki regained a measure of control. “But it ends now..” He drew a kunai and held it in front of him, ready to battle his way out. “This mission has obviously been compromised.”

The woman’s eyes never left him. “Daisuke?”

“Yes, Master.” Daisuke pressed the button again. Ibiki tensed, anticipating an attack, but the picture on the wall changed instead. Ibiki was treated to an instant playback of his furious reaction, complete with another readout along the side, this time in all green.

“So.” The woman sat down again, unconcerned with Ibiki’s threats. She steepled her fingers in front of her. “You seem to be telling the truth.”

“And I suggest you learn from my example.” Ibiki said scathingly. He tensed again, preparing to strike.

She ignored him and picked up a small, clear box. “That still doesn’t explain how I took this out of your head.”

Ibiki caught the box as it arced toward him. Inside was a small chip was the size of a shirt button, with wires still stained red trailing out of it in all direction, thin and fine as trapwire. He grimaced with revulsion and threw the box back with some force.

The woman caught it with a startling display of speed.

“You expect me to believe...”

“That Collar was full-fucking service, kiddo. Whoever had that chip wired into you would have owned you from top to bottom.” She called up a new read-out on the wall-projector. “Full control of your limbs, access to all your bodily functions, your pleasure and pain receptors, sight, hearing, taste, smell...everything.”

Ibiki was beginning to feel uneasy.

“The fact that you have that...that...abomination...makes me certain you cannot deserve the trust the Hokage-sama has placed in you. And this story, that you took that out of me? Absurd. Collars can’t be retrieved, even a child knows that.”

“Actually, you’re wrong.” Daisuke said. His voice was gentler now, different. Almost regretful. Ibiki felt that same shadowy sense of familiarity as he had before, too quickly to pin it down. “It can be done, and we have done it.”

“Drop the act.” Ibiki demanded. “There is only one person in the entire world who could perform that operation.”

“Yeah, kid.” The woman removed her hat and veil. “Only one.”

The black hat and veil slipped off of a head of long blond hair. The woman was strong featured, beautiful even, and she was in her mid-twenties. But her blue eyes were old and Ibiki’s own eyes widened as he looked into them.

The kunai slipped from his nerveless fingers.

“Tsunade-hime?”

“That’s right. The one, the only, the original. Go me.”

Tsunade cocked her head to one side and placed her hand on her hip.

“You know, I was expecting the Hatake brat. When you showed up with that Collar, I thought you were another stupid attempt to take over my territory. If Daisuke hadn’t recognized you, you’d’ve never woken up the first time.”

The full impact of his situation came crashing down on Ibiki.

Tsunade-hime...

...The Legendary Sannin...

...that’s why the Hokage-sama...

...oh, gods...

...that thing...

...I...

...I had...

...that thing...

...inside...

...that thing was inside...

He lurched over to a small wastebasket and retched. Dimly he registered the other man, Daisuke, leaving the room, but his body was too busy expelling poisonous shame and betrayal to react. Thin, sour, yellow bile crawled up his esophagus and flooded his mouth with bitter foulness. He spat uncontrollably and his sinuses burned.

He pretended the pain was what made his eyes water.

“That...that thing...” He shuddered. “That horrific thing...was in me?”

“Yeah, kid.” Tsunade said flatly. “It was. Sorry.”

He threw up again, gagging and choking.

She turned to her desk, hitting a button. “Shizune. Bring me some sake.”

Danzou, you bastard! Ibiki felt his gorge rise a third time. He swallowed against the sickness, savagely forcing himself to regain control over his trembling stomach. You will pay for this. I fucking swear it!

She kept her back to him as he composed himself, as he rose to his feet, his features hard and set, granting him a small measure of privacy. But her words were unforgiving.

“How the hell does a Konoha Chuunin end up somebody’s fucking slave without knowing it? The Old Man must be getting more senile than I thought.”

“The Hokage-sama... “ Ibiki paused and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and spat once more, deliberately, as if to dispel the last of his innocence, his youthful stupidity. “The Hokage-sama is not at fault, here.”

“This is the result of my own weakness, Tsunade-sama.” She turned a level look on him once more.

“Lady Dan, kid. Get used to it.”

“My apologies. Lady Dan.” His eyes were black pits, hollow and empty. “I will take care of it when I return to Konoha, My Lady.”

“Count on it.”

Tsunade held his gaze for another long moment, and then shrugged casually.

“Ah, well. Nothing to do with me.” The door opened and a dark-haired woman in a black yukata slipped into the room bearing a tray with sake and cups. She eyed Ibiki suspiciously and hovered next to Tsunade protectively.

“That will be all, Shizune.” Tsunade waved her off, looking irritated.

“Yes, Mistress.” Shizune bowed and left, casting one more warning look at Ibiki.

“Let’s get down to business, then.” Tsunade said, pouring two cups of sake and holding one out to him. When he hesitated she shook her head slightly. “Ah, ah, ah, kiddo. My house, my rules. Drink.”

Ibiki accepted the alcohol obediently. She raised her cup and he copied her, following her lead without question.

“To knowledge.” She said softly.

“My Lady.” He met her hard blue stare and drank without looking away.

She smiled and refilled both cups.

“I think this might just work out after all.” she murmured, to herself more than him, it seemed. She raised her glass to her lips again, contemplating him as he downed his second shot.

“I think this just...might...work.”

Later that evening...


Tsunade, alone in the heart of her domain, put her feet up on her desk and exhaled a huge breath.

After sitting still for long minutes, thinking, she opened a small hidden compartment and took out what looked like a shirt button. Her hands blurred as she formed seals, and when the jutsu took shape the button had transformed itself into a common housefly.

“Got your ticking bomb, Old Man. Gee, thanks.” She said glaring at the insect. “You know, there’s a reason I ran away from home. Fucking hate politics.”

“You were right, by the way. The Bastard had moved to secure his property. Luckily, you know a good doctor. As of twelve hours ago, the kid’s brain is once again metal-free.”

“The only collar that boy’s got on now is the same one we’ve all got, Sarutobi.”

“Yours.”

A few more seals and the fly was a button again. Tsunade put the device in her tray for Shizune and poured herself another drink.

Six, eight months, tops. Then we’ll be moving into the next phase of this grand scheme. Sarutobi’s little pawn had best be prepared. By this time next year, if all goes right, he’ll have been swallowed by the Beast. And if he hopes to get out alive, he’ll need to learn how to sharpen his fangs.

And more importantly, how to bite.


Much later that evening...


Ibiki sat in his new room, blind to the sumptuous decorations. He felt empty, drained. His mind flinched away from touching his emotional wounds, but with nothing else to hold his attention he kept returning to the image of the Collar, the tiny piece of nothing that would have bound him irrevocably to whatever Danzou’s twisted mind dreamed up.

He shuddered and scrubbed his hands over his face.

TV. TV will distract me.

He flicked on the television, flipping channels compulsively. He watched an old Pre-Disaster romance, the quality wavering as the recording crystal played its timeless story, struggling to broadcast through damage acquired over five hundred years ago, when one woman’s anger and grief had nearly destroyed the entire world.

For the first time in his life, he felt sympathy toward her.

If it came down to it, if it was the only way to end that man’s life... Ibiki thought viciously, it might just be worth sending humanity into chaos.

He jumped up and paced around a bit, disturbed at his own thoughts.

Fuck

He settled down again, finally, plowing through a stupid popular comedy and a fairly clever detective story before flipping to the Northern News Channel. NNC was always on in the mission room back home and the familiar noise began to relax him, to lull him to sleep.

He was slipping under the edge of sleep when a breaking news story jolted him awake.

...report of an unsuccessful attempt on the life of Hitsuragi Kyouya-dono, the Daimyou of Fire Country. Details are being withheld until the ANBU of Konoha can complete their investigation, but there are conflicting rumors that the right-wing extremist political leader Danzou-san may or may not be somehow involved.

Danzou-san has released a statement disavowing all knowledge of this atrocity, and, as the investigation in still in it’s early stages, we will all have to wait until the Fire Country Advisory Council releases it’s own statement about this shocking turn of events. We will bring you more as it’s discovered. Back to you, Jin.

Ibiki turned off the news with a convulsive clenching of his fingers. From far, far away he heard the plastic creak and crack and finally shatter. The bits of plastic and metal cut his skin and blood dripped onto his cool green sheets, but he didn’t notice. He didn’t notice his bloodstained hands began to shake, either.

He felt nothing.

He just stared at his reflection in the dark, empty glass.

And felt nothing.

I trust you, Ibiki.


His hands didn’t stop shaking for the rest of the long, long night.