"I was fourteen--" Raidou began, then broke off abruptly. He stared at the opposite wall for three long heartbeats. "Well," he said finally. "That's interesting. Your influence thing isn't just a one-trick pony, is it." It wasn't really a question.

He took a deep breath, testing the restriction of the bandage around his chest, and grunted painfully. "It always seemed unfair to me that getting fixed actually hurts more than getting broke. You'd think it'd be the other way around." He dragged his shirt back on, pulling a slight face as soaked cloth dragged jellified clots of blood down his back, and twitched the tight fabric back into place. "But thanks, kid. Nice job."

He crouched to get his armour, rather than bending over and ripping something, and buckled the chest-piece back on. With the solid weight once more over his shoulders, he felt a little more guarded.

Emotional influence, the brief had said. Raidou was starting to think there was a whole lot more to it than that. And he wasn't sure he liked it. The kid could get inside his head.

Or make him say enough that it counted for the same thing.

No wonder ANBU wanted him.

Raidou stood up and pulled his mask back on, finally turning around. In the narrow strip of vision the sliding grate in the door offered, he saw his clone appear, waving a pair of shoes. He smiled slightly. "What say we get out of here, huh?"

"Yeah," Kaito said quietly, trying hard to think about his mother's eyes swirling to silver, and then back to brown. Off. Quit. Halt.

He didn't think it was working. It never had before. He followed the other ninja toward the door, feeling a little ill. He'd already freaked out the guy who'd come to rescue him--that was great. Just peachy.

Stop.

Quit.

Turn it off.

He didn't feel any different.

"Hey--" he faltered and started again. "Hey, man--I--I didn't mean--"

Raidou was acting like nothing had happened, though. Kaito faltered again, looking at an expressionless mask, trying to judge mood from the set of broad shoulders. Ninja were pros at hiding that sort of thing--he didn't manage it.

He should just stop talking. 'You're making it worse,' his step-father used to say. 'Just stop.'

It'd be nice if he could.

That sad feeling was back again, plucking at his chest. Raidou glanced at the bare-foot teenager following him and realized why hugging was such a big deal. It was hard to hold back the instinctive urge to reach out and comfort in the grip of that echo of grief.

Even though he didn't actually know the kid.

Raidou guided the clone into breaking them out of the cell while he thought. The kid was definitely influencing him, but he didn't seem to be dragging emotions out of him. Just throwing his own out. And Raidou was reacting on a gut level, before his brain caught up and kicked in.

Which explained the sudden urge to talk about his scars without incurring significant head trauma. But he'd cut himself off.

So, the kid could get a response, but not one that wasn't genuine. Probably. And he wasn't doing it on purpose. Probably.

And judging by that fumbled not-apology, and the pinch in Raidou's chest, he wasn't feeling good about it.

Probably.

Raidou resisted the urge to rub his temples. The whole thing required a level of meta-thinking that really didn't fit into the fine red mental space of mission-focus. It was distracting, having to second-guess his own reactions. More than distracting; it was dangerous.

So he'd stop and do it later.

"Just as long as I don't get the sudden desire to put on some heels and sing," he said, shouldering the door open. "Or the urge to shave my head. I like my hair. But other than that, you're safe."

He took the shoes from the clone, vanished the creation, and regarded the prostrate form of Taka with a thoughtful gleam. "So quit worrying. And help me think of something fun to write on his majasty's face. I reckon you've got room in this camera for a few more pictures..."

Blackmail came in all shapes and sizes. Raidou figured a little more wouldn't hurt.

Kaito laughed a little nervously. "No, no heels. Unless you have some transsexual kinks you haven't owned up to..." Quit worrying. Right. He could manage that.

He took a breath and blew it out through pursed lips, trying to expel stress along with it. It didn't really work, but it was worth a shot.

Raidou was pulling out a black marker. He was serious. Kaito smirked and took his shoes, flipping one upside down and popping the bottom half of the sole off. He twisted a dial, turning it from video to camera, and glanced to see the other ninja crouching over Taka's fat face. "Dude--dude--write 'my favorite twinkies come from asses.' Can you write that? Is there enough room?" He grinned broadly.

Raidou laughed, careful to keep the sound low, and studied the vast expanse of Taka's face. "Considering we've got three chins to work with, I think we stand a decent chance." He crouched down and scrawled a messy string of kanji over corpulant cheeks. It took him a moment to work out the symbol for 'twinkie', but when he did he gave it an extra flourish, drawing elaborately over Taka's nose. 'Asses' also garnered close attention, and an underline.

Raidou sat back to consider the finished effect. Then, very carefully, he leaned forward and added a tiny, delicate daisy.

"If there is a god, his majesty'll think some rabid flower terrorist organization decided to indulge in a bit of living graffitti." He grinned. As justice went, it wasn't exactly swift and bloody, but he had every faith it was going to hit Taka where it hurt. You didn't have to look hard in a politician to find his pride. "S'just a shame we can't sign it: 'from Konoha, bitch'."

Five minutes and the teenager was already rubbing off on him.

Raidou rose to his feet and tossed Kaito the marker. "Want to add anything? I reckon we've got at least thirty seconds before anyone comes to see what's happened to the boss. More if there weren't any more shinobi up there. But don't count on it."

Kaito tossed the shoe to Raidou, catching the marker. "He had at least one more," he murmured, trying not to think about the big man who'd taken such pleasure in hurting him. Kaito was, in an odd way, indebted to Taka. The politician had kept him from getting really tortured.

He showed his gratitude by drawing a well-practiced cartoon of a man mooning them on Taka's chins. He added a mole with a few hairs, just for effect, then took his camera-shoe back, snapped a few photos, and turned it off.

Platform shoes. Ugh. He slipped them on anyway--ugly stupid shoes were better than none--and handed Raidou his marker back. "Okay. All set?" The noise was lessening. He wasn't sure what that meant.

Raidou glanced sharply upwards as his last clone vanished out of existance, dragging a bite of his chakra with it. The ceiling told him nothing, but it didn't need to. None of his clones had killed a shinobi. Which meant they had a minor problem.

"Yeah," he said, putting his hands together. "Let's get gone--wait." He looked at the man on the floor, then at Kaito, and had to stop from smacking a hand over his face. "Quickly, did they find out who you are?"

'And where you're from,' didn't need to be said.

Even though he knew the answer, he still had to pause and think. And even while he was doing that, he shook his head. "Not from me," he said at last. "I don't think so. They asked, but Taka didn't want them to press, so..."

So, he still had all his limbs and no broken bones, even if he was turning ugly shades of purple and blue. Things could have gone much, much worse.

Now was not the time to think about that.

Raidou flicked a look over the teenager, ignoring the way his own emotions kept jumping, and concentrated on body language. No twitches, no glance away; the kid wasn't looking left--an indicator that he was creating, rather than remembering--and he'd answered quick without being too quick...

That and the fact that he wasn't a bleeding, blubbering wreck supported his story.

Raidou nodded once. "Good. Great, in fact. Now take a breath." He gathered his chakra into a quick, hard knot, shaped his fingers through a flickering set of seals--

At the end of the hallway a door blew in. A man charged through the smoke, low light glinting on drawn steel. "Shinobi!"

"Easter bunny!" Raidou yelled back, and grabbed Kaito's shoulders.

Energy lashed out. They both vanished.

Kaito wasn't sure if Raidou's shout was horrifying or hilarious as they reappeared in the darkened forest. His chakra yanked sideways and he dropped, laughing, catching himself with arms that were weak from the transportation. He could feel his energy trying to re-center, being slowly successful, and sat down on the forest loam. "Did you seriously say easter bunny? I mean--easter bunny?"

He glanced up at the stars through the leaves, trying to get his bearings. There was the North Star, which pointed to the tail end of the Shoge...

Finding his stashed clothes by constellation wasn't going to be possible. Damn.

"Bringing presents to all the good boys and girls..." Raidou picked himself up just enough to sit and brace against a tree, chuckling roughly as he caught his breath. He wasn't sure if he was laughing just because the kid was laughing, or because it was funny--but he'd decided to think about that later.

He ran a gloved hand through sweaty hair, weighing his chakra as he gathered it back. He'd jumped them past the whole damn city; not exactly the most energy-friendly exercise, especially with the kid tagging along. He decided to give himself a minute until the lightheadedness went away.

Or maybe that was the blood loss...

Probably not, he hadn't been bleeding that long.

"So," he said, pulling his attention back to more important things. "I see trees. Reckon your clothes are close?"

Kaito snorted, relaxing as freedom sunk in. He was hurting and sore in areas he didn't want to think about, but he was dressed and no longer cuffed to a wall. Things were looking up.

"Oh, yeah. 'Cause it's not like the forest is big or anything." He shifted, trying to find a more comfortable spot, and glanced around. "Where are we in relation to the city?"

Raidou glanced up the sky, then looked right. With a very faint grin, he spotted a broad X written in black marker on a nearby tree. It was incongruous in the forest, but might have been left by someone who needed to memorize a jump spot in case he needed it later...

"About half a mile straight out from the North-East corner," he said, and pointed. "The river's roughly a hundred feet that way." Useful things, rivers. Especially for getting your bearings. "And home is about... six hours that way."

Which Kaito would already know, but Raidou wanted to say it anyway.

He started to get up, felt his knees shake, and decided to sit for just a minute longer. That shinobi couldn't translocate after them unless he knew exactly where they were. And Raidou had left him in a lonely hallway with his fallen boss... If the man had any kind of loyalty--and they had any kind of luck--he'd be focusing on other things.

Which meant Raidou could afford a damn minute.

"So," he said cheerfully, studying his new charge through the black-lined eye holes of his mask, "besides your genjutsu trick and wearing very shiny shirts, what can you do?"

He hadn't missed the aborted move to get up, and the consequent relaxing back. Translocating yourself this far wasn't easy--much less with a passenger. He settled in, changed his mind, and crouched instead of sitting.

He thought about where they were, and figured out a basic idea of where he'd find his clothes. Not far, really. That was nice.

"I dunno," he said with a shrug. "Normal chuunin stuff, I guess. I mean--nothing extra fancy." He picked at the hem of his shiny shirt. "I'm pretty good at wearing shiny pants, too." Offering a small smile, he stood. "And I'm great at getting my stuff. Gimme two seconds, okay? It's not far."

And then he could change without someone looking over his shoulder. Even better.

So much for a minute.

Raidou reached up, grabbed a blessedly low branch, and hauled himself to his feet. His internal balance lurched nastily, then settled. He took one quick breath and stepped away from the tree, relieved when the world stayed under his feet.

Ha. Take that, blood loss!

"Sorry, kid," he said, catching the flicker of moonlit disappointment on Kaito's face. "But I just found you. Got no plans to lose you again."

Raidou had worked plenty of missions playing back up to seduction experts--Genma not included. It wasn't a gig he minded, which was good, seeing as Intel liked to put him on it. But it was one that came with its own unique little quirks. People were often at their most raw when they'd just had to lie down for Hogake and Village.

Which was why Raidou paired clothes with Kaito's expression and took a well-judged guess.

"Course, I don't mind doing a little stargazing while you get yourself sorted out. You never know when the heavens are going to catch fire."

It wasn't, of course, that he was embarrassed to be naked or changing or anything like that in front of the other ANBU. He just--didn't want to. He'd spent half his night naked in front of people--that had to be enough, right? Besides, what if his stupid not-a-genjutsu thing kept going? Sure, most people just started offering free food or random help or tried to hug him, but occasionally it sharpened that ugly predator-sense in people and Raidou hadn't done that yet, but--

But he really just didn't want to change with the guy standing right there. Not for any particular reason. He just didn't.

"It's not like you're losing me," he tried. "I mean, I'm within like, chakra-flare range. Just that way." He pointed. "And you look like you could use the break, anyway. I mean--not that you look bad. Just, you got stabbed an' all. And besides, it's not like my clothes are a threat or anything. They can't catch me." He offered a smile torn somewhere between hopeful and pleading. "Y'know?"

It was hard for a guy who spent most of his time listening to his emotions--admittedly tempered with logic; most of the time--to suddenly one-eighty into ignoring them completely. The kid was doing that pinch thing again, and this time it was stronger.

Raidou held up one hand as an idea occured--one that should've been obvious, really. "Don't take this wrong way." He shaped a quick seal and muttered, "Kai."

It stopped the influence cold, which was great.

And it made Kaito scream, which was not so much.

It felt like a pickaxe in both head and heart, snapping off re-routed chakra and cracking it back into his pathways, making the pain sizzle for a brief moment everywhere.

He caught his breath and realized both hands were clutching his chest, as if he could keep everything contained just there. "Warn a guy," he gasped out, and leaned against a tree. "That--that's not cool." He realized he was sounding like a kid, and winced again. "I mean--well, that's just not cool." Even if it was childlike, it was still accurate.

Well, at least this time Raidou was pretty sure the bad feeling was all his own.

"Damn, sorry," he said, rubbing the back of his head. "Didn't even occur to me that would hurt." Of course, considering he'd apparently just slammed a shut-down on the kid's bloodline, that wasn't a big mental leap.

Well done, rescue king, he thought, and resisted the urge to whack his head against a branch.

Instead, on the basis that it would be more useful, he shoved his mask to one side and stepped carefully closer, eyeing Kaito's sweaty, pain-pinched face. "You okay? Hang on, I've got some water..." He dug out a canteen and offered it.

Kaito took it a little weakly, wondering why people always offered water no matter what was wrong. It didn't have any magical properties that he knew of, and it didn't really make him feel any better.

He drank it anyway and handed it back. "Thanks," he muttered, giving his chest one final rub before straightening up. "I'm gonna get my clothes." He slunk off toward where he thought they were.

If it hadn't been a mission, Raidou would have respected the unspoken plea for him to stay away. But it was, so he couldn't. And with his luck, the kid would probably walk into a bear trap or something.

Raidou sighed once, stowed his canteen back into a hip pouch, and followed.

"Oh, come on!" Kaito cried, wheeling around when he heard the crunch of footsteps behind him. "Why can't you just stay here? You can hear if something goes wrong!" This was entirely unfair. He hadn't signed up in ANBU for this, he hadn't realized half how bad it was going to be, he'd gotten caught and pummeled and nearly sold into slavery--he really didn't want to strip down in front of someone now, too!

Raidou paused mid-step, hesitating. Be nice or be the ANBU hard-ass?

Without really thinking about it, he reached over his chest and rubbed a hand over his tattoo--or tried to; the bandage still covered it. He picked the knot and pulled the sweat-soaked strip of linen off.

"Look, kid, I know you're having a bad day..." He wadded up the strip and shoved it into his pocket. "But you're just going to have to do what we all do: Suck it up and deal. Because I'm responsible for you, and I'm not risking your life on the fact that I might not move fast enough when I hear you scream."

There. Hard-ass ANBU who took the time to explain.

Yay me, thought Raidou wearily. I'm a compromise.

Kaito flushed red, shoulders hunching. "'M not gonna get attacked out here," he mumbled, but he didn't have the guts to keep arguing. He just turned and stalked off into the forest, entertaining delightful images of Raidou getting eaten by--

Hmmm. Maybe a swarm of ants.

Or bees.

Torn apart by dogs. Definitely that last one, and he'd shout for help but Kaito would just laugh at him.

The distraction lasted all the way to his chosen tree, where it finally was overwhelmed by the sick feeling in his gut. He pulled his clothes out without looking at Raidou--he hadn't looked at him since that little speech--and glared at the bundle of cloth and sandals. He swallowed hard. Bad enough he had to strip down again, but he was sure his limit was raging. How long did a kai last? Raidou hadn't hugged him or anything, but suddenly Kaito wished he had. At least that would be a certainty that the other ninja was more likely to smother him with kindness than attack when he was stressed.

He shoved his clothes into the hole again, turning to lean against the tree and untie his stupid platform camera-shoes. Those, at least, were easy. He dropped them on the ground and stood, barefoot, feeling dead leaves and hard sticks poke his soles. His bruises throbbed and other, more disturbing, injuries beat a tattoo of pain into him with every heartbeat.

Raidou, true to his word, wasn't looking.

Kaito fingered the bottom buttons on his stupid-ass shirt and didn't start to take it off. "Did--did the kai work?"

Hearing the note of strain in his voice, he lifted his chin and looked as belligerent as he possibly could.

Raidou flicked a glance at the kid, clocked the 'you can't make me do anything' stare, and was suddenly, forcibly reminded of his brothers. And several friends. And most of the rookies he'd ever met.

Bad-tempered determination was something of a ninja thing. Good for hiding fear.

He scratched the back of his head, a little itchy now sweat was drying in the cool night air, and said simply, "Yup." Which was a damn relief. If Kaito's bloodline worked like any other bloodline Raidou had heard of, and he sure hoped it did, it would activate mostly when the kid was stressed. And he obviously couldn't control it enough to shut it off. But if the kai kept it shut down for any length of time...

Raidou considered that and scrapped it. He didn't plan on hurting the kid unless he absolutely had to, and kai-ing him was clearly a bit like poking an Uchiha in the eyes; or shoving garlic up Tsume's nose.

So that was out. Raidou would just have to concentrate on keeping himself in check, instead.

He eyed Kaito again, taking in the very unsubtle tension wracking the kid like a drawn bowstring, and re-considered that last line of thought.

Then he sat abruptly down. "Look, brat, as cute as you are, teenage boys really aren't my thing. Now, if you were older and had a few more curves to your name--" and lost the hunted deer expression, "--than maybe. But that's a loose maybe. Besides, I don't know if anyone's told you this, but the higher-ups really take exception to teammates hurting each other. We're talking jail time and maybe a blade located somewhere terminal."

He left his mask pushed to one side, askew enough that the kid could see which way his eyes were looking, and leaned back against a tree, tilting his head up to study the stars. "So what I'm saying is, you'd have to be a lot prettier for me to risk my career over. And we're talking on a level where beer-flavoured nipples come as a freebie."

And with any luck, that'd be a good enough speech to last all the way home.