“So, kid,” Asuma called, as he pulled on his chakra. “Tell us about your family. What’re they like?”

The chakra didn’t come -- he hadn’t much expected it to, but the theory had been worth testing. He could feel the energy deep in his coils, moving like normal, supporting his body, but it wouldn’t shape when he directed it. Locked down tight.

“My dad’s a jounin,” Ichiba said a little tentatively, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to say so. His voice warmed. “He does amazing ninjutsu; he’s one of the best in the village. My mom’s a dancer -- she used to be a chuunin, but she retired when me ‘an my sister were born. We’re twins. My sister’s a taijutsu specialist, and she’s awesome.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Asuma agreed, letting his chakra go. “Taijutsu’s my favourite, too. What about you, Katsuko?”

In the dim light, it was just possible to see her eyes narrowing a little. "Mom's a kenshi from Wind Country,” she said slowly. “She mugged Dad on his way to Suna and decided to keep him. Got a little brother about Ichiba's age, civilian. He's apprenticed to a painter right now."

Asuma laughed hoarsely. “Your Mom sounds badass.”

“So’s mine,” Ichiba said stoutly. “She doesn’t let my dad get away with anything.”

“Damn straight,” Asuma said, grinning. “Okay, head down. This is gonna be noisy.”

He kicked the iron-grated door hard, aiming for the outer edge of the lock. It was heavy and built solid, bolted at top and bottom with a keyed lock in the middle, fixed to heavy iron hinges. A dull shimmer suggested thick layers of seals. It rattled. He kicked it again, hitting metal solidly with his bare heel. Then again.

“Hey, bastards! Let’s have some attention here!”

Down the hall, someone howled thinly. Someone else shouted at him to shut up. Ichiba sank into himself, drawing back to the darkest corner of his cell.

“What the fuck are you doing, lunatic?” Katsuko hissed. “Knock it off. The orderlies don’t like being disturbed.”

“Good,” Asuma said cheerfully, and kicked harder.