"Tayuya," I sigh.
I don't know what to say.
Her back faces the cell door, she's staring at the wall, but her eyes are closed – like I'm going to believe she's asleep.
It's a game to her, I guess.
"You'll never get out of here," it's a shame because she's not that bad of a person...
She's a lot like Sasuke. Sure, she chose, but it was situation that changed her, made her think a certain way. Made her think she had no choice.
She could be free too.
"I ain't becomin' a leaf-pussy like you," she'd said.
Leaf-pussy, huh? She's not very creative. She calls me Naruto-pussy, Kakashi, Kakashi-pussy. Shikamaru? Pineapple-face. Why he gets a special name I don't know. (She's not exactly forthcoming).
I take a stool and drag it up to her. The noise wakes her – God she's good at acting.
She's been waking up this way for the last two years. By the same fucking noise.
"Aren't you tired of being a ghost, Tayuya-chan? Aren't you tried of this place yet?"
Silence. Just the sound of dripping water.
"Don't you want to see the sun again? Aren't you sick of doing nothing all day?"
Why did I take this job? Why do I continue to come down here every day? Trying to coax answers out of a person who probably knows absolutely nothing anyway.
She's not even a threat anymore, her muscles and chakra are so atrophied.
I grumble, stand, lean over her bed, lift up her shirt (she raises her arms), inspect her back, her spine, her shoulders, her feet, her ankles–
The shackles have dug into her skin. She's starting to get worrisome sores and blisters on her shoulders and upper-back from lack of hygiene.
I've spoken to Tsunade about it, but she can't help. Politically, it's taboo. There's no way she can wave it off either. What use is she? She won't say anything. Probably doesn't have anything relevant, even if there's something for her to say. It's two-year old information. If we can even trust it.
(I know we could).
"Tayuya... you're falling apart,"
I've seen a lot of prisoners come and go. Shuffling down these halls, people worse and better than Tayuya – the crimes they've committed, the scars they have, the smiles, the breasts, the legs, the lives, the love, the hatred. They're people too. I didn't used to think so, but that's what I've learned. They're people too.
And "better" people than Tayuya have died here. Smarter, stronger, more beautiful, more willed, more hopeful. They've withered too. Withered until they stop moving, they stop sleeping, until they stop eating, then, I get assigned a new cell, a new person to look after.
I've tried Sakura. I've tried. Begged. Pleaded, even. I've... sworn things I shouldn't have, and I'm slightly glad she didn't accept because it would have made living hard.
(All I have is pride anymore.)
Getting any other medic down here would be impossible, since they would lack clearance.
And learning medical techniques? I would kill her. It's not even safe to practice on dead things– they just blow up!
It's fucking stupid.
"Fine. Don't fucking say anything, keep lying there, you fucking idiot. Die. See if I care. No one will care if you die Tayuya. You got that? No one will remember you. It'll be like you didn't exist. In-fact, you don't exist. It almost seems like I'm the only one who even knows you're down here!"
I can't leave yet – I'm expected to stay with my charges for at least fifteen minutes – so I sit back in the stool and I stare.
Breathing raggedly, I stare. Staring through her, through the wall and through the wall behind that wall, into something I can't quite define.
And then I stop staring because I notice that Tayuya's hair (it's grown to reach her lower back) is a mess. It coils, curls and tangles about itself so that it resembles a cat's fur more than it does human hair.
"For fucks sake Tayuya! Aren't girls supposed to be murderously obsessed over their hair?" I'm sick of this, I'm sick of combing the damn stuff. It's disgusting. Sakura-chan didn't even have that much hair when she was a genin.
I'm five seconds from running out of the cell and asking a guard for some scissors before common sense grabs me. A kunai would do – I can get a straight cut with it.
I draw my weapon with fierce bestiality, gripping it so hard my hand starts sweating.
I gather up her hair with my free hand and raise it up, placing it near the blade.
The edge touches the silken oily mass.
And I hesitate.
I fling the kunai into the wall and bite back a laugh. Who the fuck am I kidding? I love her hair. It would be a crime to cut it. I would kill anyone who did. Myself included.
I find the brush under my stool again and start to brush it, but the bunk bed she's in makes it uncomfortable to bend over and work.
"Fucking bitch, stop gripping the sheets so I can put you in my lap,"
She tenses momentarily but does let go, I guess it's more out of apathy or lack of strength than anything else though.
I drag her limp body off the sweaty and hairy sheets (grimacing as I do so) and put her slimy body in my lap. Her shirt and shorts are paper thin – a "lab assistant green" – it reminds me of Yamanaka's hospital uniform before she goes into surgery. It barely stays on her body and hides nothing I don't already know about.
"Sit up while I brush you, I can't hold you and brush at the same time,"
I've done this for two years now, so I've made it an art form. Perfecting different strokes, different strengths. She used to curse and bite, especially when I messed up. Once, she even yanked out my hair – just so I knew how it 'felt like'. She herself never asked me to cut her hair.
Yeah, I know. It's hair. I used to not care about it too. I still don't groom myself. Just a shave in the morning... but Tayuya, it's different. I've been talking to Jiraiya about it, about her... but he just giggles stupidly and says something veiled and 'mysterious'. It's pointless talking to him about it.
Everybody else? Ino gives me a weird look and changes the subject. Shikamaru says it's 'Troublesome'. Tsunade says I should spend more time drinking with her. Shizune blushes, especially if I go into detail about it.
She relents and lets me brush her. Eventually, the rhythmic motions relax her tense muscles (she always gets tense when anyone touches or holds her) and soon she's a heavy weight in my lap. Half an hour later, I'm finished. The brush matted with crimson hair.
When she's gone... I wonder... will I keep this... if I look at her hair and I'll remember?
No, I'll forget. I have a terrible fucking memory.
I peel back the straps of her shirt and look at her shoulders again... maybe I'm imaging those sores? Maybe they aren't there?
I run my fingers across her back and shoulders, feeling the bumps the bruises... feeling her tense and clench and writhe in pain or pleasure I don't even care.
It's the hair. It's not allowing her to bathe properly. The prisoners don't have much time in the showers for fear of suiton jutsu – with the hair and everything else she doesn't have time to care for it all. It's a common problem.
Maybe if I cut it– maybe if I cut it–
"Tayuya, I'm going to cut your hair. It's too long. One night you're going to roll around too much and you'll strangle yourself."
She doesn't say anything.
But I don't expect her to. I don't even remember her voice.
I grab her hair and ready another kunai from my thigh holster, bringing it up and gently pressing against it–
And I hesitate again.
I can't do it.
"Whatever,"
I toss the stupid tool to the wall again. It clatters with the other I'd just thrown.
It's not safe to leave them, there Naruto! You're practically arming a prisoner! I could cut myself with them too– suicide or resistance at the most obvious options a prisoner has!
You're not a prisoner, you're harmless.
Yeah? Maybe to you.
Me? Of course, I'm invincible!
No one's invincible, baka.
I smile at the memory. Yeah, my memory's not that bad at least.
That was the first time we'd made progress. She wasn't afraid of Orochimaru anymore. He wasn't coming after her, she had finally realized. He wasn't all powerful. He was as vulnerable as me.
For a long time, I sit in the stool with Tayuya – my arms around her waist.
"Tayuya," I sigh, "I'm sick of this."
Sick of what? I imagine her saying, Sick of being an interrogator? Sick of me?
"No, I could never be sick of you. I mean– you're fucking mean most of the time... but you're better company than Sakura-chan. Way better."
You're just saying that because I actually have breasts.
I burst out laughing. So hard, that the stool tumbles over. With us in it.
Still laughing – desperately – I bring Tayuya closer. She's still alive, right? I'm not imagining her? She's still here. I'm not alone. I'm with someone who understands me... if only a little bit. If only for a little while.
"I... I still don't understand what's going on," I'm still giggling, but it's getting painful to laugh now, "But I... don't want you to go away."
The words just slipped out. I was as surprised to hear them coming from my own mouth as she was.
Breathless, "What?"
"I think I said I... want you to say."
"O-Oh, is that it?" her voice is so weak, just a fragment– no, maybe this was her real voice? Without the shell. Soft, unsure.
Convulsing.
"H-Hey! What's going on? Hey!" I get out from under her and try to determine the cause– cardiac arrest? A seizure?
No, tears.
I pick her up and almost consider calling for a guard– no. I can handle this.
"What's wrong? Are you hurt? When we fell? Where does it hurt?"
She hesitates before dragging her hands across her chest.
"Where? Show me? What's wrong Tayuya-chan? Speak up!"
Is she bleeding? I need to know–
The shirt comes off. It doesn't survive intact.
"Where does it hurt, show me?"
"Y-you fuck-ing idiot..." still crying, she puts her hand over her breast, "Itai..."
"What are you covering– what's... wrong..."
A whisper, "It's my heart, you fucking idiot."
"Your heart! Shit– calm down Tayuya-chan I'll go get a medic-nin–"
Still crying, "No– don't you understand pussy-brain? I– you don't get it! You always do the stupidest shittiest things! You won't leave me alone. You won't let me die. You just keep coming down here, wasting your life. It fucking hurts, you fucking douchebag."
"I– I don't understand."
"You're so fucking stupid! Don't you get anything? Doesn't anyone tell you? I'm a prisoner. I won't ever get out of her. If you don't stop... you'll... no one will ever want to associate with you."
I had never told her about the Kyuubi, or that I was hated. I tended to focus on her. I never thought such details would matter. But maybe... maybe they did.
Some things were starting to make sense now.
"So the reason why you've been pouting for the last month?"
"Is because you won't get the picture!" she pauses, "And I wasn't pouting!"
"What's the picture, Tayuya-chan?"
The question startles her, "What do you mean?"
"What's the picture? Why am I not getting? I don't get it. What am I missing?"
"Are you kidding me? You seriously don't know?"
"I think I understand... you don't want someone caring about you. You don't want the responsibility of what happens to me."
"The responsibility?"
"Yeah. I mean, I think I understand... you're afraid I'm wasting my life down here, but that isn't the case. This is my job. I'm getting paid to do this. I'm expected to be down here."
"...that's not it at all, you fucking moron!"
I blink, scratch my head, and shrug, "Then what is it?"
"Do I have to spell it out for you?"
"I don't think I'll ever understand what you're thinking, otherwise,"
A momentous pause. She wipes the tears from her face and sits up in the bunk bed.
And hits her head.
"Ttch!" she hisses.
I wince at the bit of blood that runs down her forehead. It splits and runs like a river down her cheek.
"Let me see that,"
I lean over and look at the cut– it's not too bad, though it could use cleaning or it could get infected.
"Hmm. You're a mess anyway. Let's get you to the showers."
I start to pull her up but I actually feel her resist. Something's weighing her down.
I look back at her. I can barely see her facial expression in the darkness.
"What?"
Determination, "...Yeah. Let's go to the showers,"
Passing the guards, they don't give us a glance.
"We're here to use the showers."
The masked nin nods and opens the door.
I take the lead and choose the second stall. We're early, so no one's here.
I unlock the door and open it.
I try to smile for her, the awkwardness of that last bizarre conversation not gone from us (but I was expertly ignoring it).
I bear a grin, "I'll be outside if you need anything,"
She smiles back– something different before, but I like it. She has a timid, unexpected kind of smile. Not the shit-eating grin Shikamaru swears she has.
"Of course," she hesitates, "But... ah, I could use some help... washing my back."
I blink. Twice. Three times.
I've probably offered a hundred thousand times– offered help if she ever needed it. I would be her doctor, lawyer, and servant– all I could do within my power.
It was the same with all my 'patients' whether I was looking for information or not, I would do my best to be kind and accepting. I don't have a good track record for getting intel (which confuses me still – why do I still have this job if it doesn't seem like I'm suited for it?), but I usually get a lot of the trickier prisoners. The ones who need a lot of attention and patience.
But Tayuya never asks for help. With anything. Ever. She has as much pride as me – maybe more? Yeah, way more.
So I'm suspicious... she's up to something. What is she thinking?
Maybe... she found her answer in our conversation. Whatever the hell we were talking about, I felt a change taking place in her. Like she was angry at me, but she really wasn't angry. Maybe she wants to live? I don't know. Girls are ridiculous.
I can't refuse. Can I? I mean... I can trust Tayuya, but what is she thinking?
*Disgusting. I can't believe I wrote this. Forgive me. This was smut until it got away from me! I swear. |