Abumi Zaku (windandsound) wrote in strangergamesrp, @ 2012-08-16 12:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | abumi zaku, closed, event, kamizuki izumo, log |
Past Corpses
Who: Kamizuki Izumo, Abumi Zaku
When: August 8th
Where: The dorms
What: Izumo has bad dreams. Zaku inadvertently comes to the rescue, and for once Gin Charlie is late to the party.
Warnings: Swearing, murder, drugs, Trigger Warnings: abuse, torture, mentions of rape
Open or Closed: Closed
Observable: No
*
Izumo slept, and in sleeping, dreamt.
Something small and dark descended silently in the shadows. It crept up on the bed.
And Izumo’s dreams took of the shapes of fear.
He dreamed of Konoha, the familiar village streets. He dreamed of meeting a familiar face, one much beloved. Mission partner, brother in arms. He moved forward with peace and gladness, eager welcome in his heart and sure knowledge of matching welcome. His joy dropped cold into horror when Kotetsu turned and struck him down across the face instead. Shut up, you waste of skin. You shouldn’t ever have been born. Another blow, thudding home, and Izumo cried out with the shock of it, the bewildered pain and betrayal. You damn worthless bastard! You killed her!
It was no longer Kotetsu, it was his father, eyes blazing in the drunken fury, only he was dead he was dead and had been for years. He was dead and gone and Izumo felt the pain of the blows, the violent resurrection of the fear and the anger that had been so long buried. Hands clawed at his face, at his eyes, and Izumo flung his arms over his face, curling against the pain. Protect his itals, protect his eyes oh gods his mother’s eyes his dead mother’s eyes...
Should have drowned you at birth like a damned cat! The pain of broken bones under the club of a beer bottle, the burn burn burn of alcohol and blood and fresh wounds and Izumo needed to get up run get away his father was going to kill him this time oh gods oh gods. He kicked out blind, shot to his feet, heart hammering in his chest half blind with the agony (oh all the gods he didn’t believe in) and ran out the door, out of the house he’d hated so much (he was dead he was dead!) and straight into the arms of an Iwa nin who smiled and caught him with burning hands. Izumo screamed now, high and wild in the sudden rush of panic - not him never him not again!
The cruel whining laugh and the snakebite strike to the lips, poison and pain and shame and despair. At least you’re a pretty little fuck, a little fun before the work. The unbearable aching agony of broken bones and torn flesh (his fingernails would never grow back the same), violation and the violence. They’d taken turns, one after another, and he’d gone numb under the rape and the shame and the desperation to kill himself except they’d even gagged him so he couldn’t bite his tongue off oh gods oh gods the feel of the hands crawling over him he’d never be rid of it never again they were dead they were dead they were deaddeaddeaddead!
The corpse holding him raised its rotting face and grinned with lips fallen away. Izumo screamed as bared teeth latched into his throat and then had nothing left to scream with and the bitter laughter of Kotetsu dead and rotting and watching and Izumo was burning alive with the poison eating him from the inside out, the dead devouring him the taste of blood and poison and death and death and death.
And then he woke up and the nightmare wasn’t over, the monster on his chest burning him alive as it dragged up his chakra.
Panic broke white over his vision and Izumo screamed and in a violent wild thrash he threw the creature off and across the room to thud into the wall.
The compromise had been thus: sleep outside, or sleep in the same room as an enemy shinobi. After almost four days of falling out of trees and making friends with insomnia, Zaku had sucked it up and crept back inside. So now he slept with all his knives and a wind blast at the ready, but at least he slept a few hours more and had yet to roll out of anymore trees. It wasn’t a good situation, but it was a compromise. He knew the risks.
Until his roommate decided to have a screaming nightmare.
Zaku woke up with a snarl and launched himself across the room, away from the noise and just in time to avoid getting smacked by...
Something.
Something alive and twisting oh what the fuck!
Killing it seemed like the appropriate response.
Zaku brought his hands up and used a wind blast. It smashed through most of the wall in the process.
The neighbors got a rude awakening - the reinforced wall didn’t quite crumble the way it should have but the creature in question got turned into a fine mist of sharp-smelling acid, immediately eating away at the wall and the bed and the floor and everything else it touched.
Izumo shouted again and flung himself backwards hard enough to knock himself out momentarily. He laid on the bed feeling sick and dizzy, his chest burning, trying to gather himself up enough to get up get up there was something wrong get away! His breath came in erratic sobs as he struggled in uncoordinated jerks, too dazed to really get up.
Acid hissed as it burned, not quite like fire. Zaku applied chakra to his feet and jumped up off the floor; the wall to his back was standing still. No damage done to that, either by the acid or Zaku’s wind attack. Somebody would have heard the noise by now, but Zaku wasn’t worried about that.
He was more concerned with whatever the fuck had been in the room, and possibly attacking his roommate.
Who was currently...
Alive. Probably.
Zaku didn’t lower his guard. “Izumo!”
His name. It cut through the confusion and gave him something to ground with, clawing his way upright, and Izumo managed to sit, heart trying to pound its way out his his chest, eyes casting around the dark room. At last at last his chakra responded in a sharp flare and he bolted away from his bed, socked feet slipping on the floor then catching witch chakra. He skidded up against the wall by the window. His chest ached and burned and he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t breathe.
Danger but a voice with his name someone he recognized he needed to stay with a partner oh gods oh gods he couldn’t breathe.
Izumo was still alive and capable of retreating. Maybe not fighting, with his breathing fucked up and shaky like that. Useless. Konoha’s soldiers were weak, sentimental, they weren’t good enough and that was why they deserved to fall. Orochimaru-sama said so and this was proof.
This was fucking proof.
Not that it mattered right this second, because that...thing, might still be alive.
“If you freak out, I’ll kill you myself!” Zaku hissed, hands raised high and unwavering.
Kid Zaku dorms Ludus oh gods his chest hurt he needed to think nothing was moving but them.
Nothing was moving but them.
Izumo got to his feet again (when had he sat down) and staggered to his closet. He put a hand in, set it right on the syringe, and sat down on the floor in the dark. His hands were shaking almost too hard to grasp the syringe.
Big vein in the elbow, all by feel, the resistance of flesh and pop into the vein, the burn of the sedative. Izumo threw the empty syringe at the lightswitch and clamped his hand over his elbow, shutting his eyes briefly as the light snapped on.
Lights then. Zaku snarled a curse, one hand raised to shield.
Nothing attacked. No enemy - faceless or otherwise - lunged out of the fading shadows.
There was nothing but Izumo staggering down and...
What the hell was he doing, anyway?
Zaku hopped down, landing easily, but didn’t drop his guard. “Izumo. Izumo!”
Pay attention!
Izumo glanced up, muscles snatching tense, chakra sparking erratically. He looked past Zaku, trying to see the wall the damage the nasty green-looking gel spread everywhere oh gods here really had been something on him oh gods oh gods....
He closed his eyes and curled over, forehead to the floor, struggling not to hyperventilate, shaking all over in the long, convulsive shudders of panic.
The sedative would work, he just had to hold on, five more minutes, oh gods his chest hurt.
Panic. Wonderful.
Zaku fought the urge to just stalk over there and hit Izumo until he shaped up. This was no time for panic! An enemy - purpose unknown, everything unknown - had gotten in past both of them, and then it had splattered against the wall and turned to acid.
So no, things were not good and this was not a good time for a freakout. You did those in private, if you did them at all.
Zaku gritted his teeth. “Izumo! Get it fucking together, would you?”
Izumo sat up as Gin Charlie opened the door, and he wobbled to his feet. Gin Charlie had his sword drawn, but as he looked around the room, he sheathed it. “Don’t touch that,” he rumbled, jabbing a finger at the broken wall and the gel. He strode towards them both. “Which one of you was it after?” he asked.
Izumo couldn’t speak just yet, though he could feel his breathing beginning to slow, the first tendrils of drugged numbness creeping in.
Zaku jerked into stance on instinct, but dropped it as Gin Charlie sheathed his sword. The stance but not the tension. That he kept. “Him--what the fuck was it?”
Something dangerous. Obviously.
“The damn thing that got loose from the fuckin’ labs. It feed on fear and they’re multiplying. Blessed ghosts preserve us. Izumo, take your shirt off and let me see how badly it burnt you.” Gin Charlie crossed the room, giving a glance at the shattered wall. “Whoever broke that is paying for it.”
Izumo’s fingers were shaking so hard he could barely grab his shirt, but his focus was coming back and he could almost catch his breath again. He awkwardly pulled his shirt off. There was a dark burn pattern on his chest, little streaks of tiny handprints and a larger, rounded burn that was already blistering. No wonder his chest hurt.
That...thing fed on fear.
Well that was just great.
Zaku eyed the burns on Izumo’s chest, then turned to scowl at Gin Charlie. “It attacked. What was I supposed to do?”
The wall was an acceptable loss, really.
“Not destroy the place in the fucking process. I’ll get this mess cleaned up, you escort Izumo down to the infirmary.” Gin Charlie nodded.
Izumo fussed with his shirt and got it on again. The shakes were going away, but he was starting to feel vaguely fuzzy. That was...sometimes it happened that way, from panic to drugged instead of clarity inbetween. He could breathe now, though, careful and deep and even. Okay. Gin Charlie was here, the thing was dead, it was okay.
He was very carefully not thinking about the nightmares.
Wait, what? When had this turned into his fault? Zaku made a face. “I’m doing what---fine.”
He might have complained more if it was someone other than Gin Charlie, but there weren’t many options at the moment, and this was something like orders. Zaku popped his knuckles and edged a little closer to Izumo. He cocked his head at the other shinobi, eyes narrowed. “You done yet?”
“Yeah.” Izumo crossed his arms under the burn, hands cupping his elbows. His voice was hoarse, raspy. “I’m...I’m alright.”
Infirmary. Right. He started forward, first step very cautious. Okay, still able to walk without much trouble. maybe they’d get to the infirmary before he got too bad. Okay. He could do this. He glanced at Gin Charlie as he passed, before moving on, not looking at the damage.
Zaku scowled darkly and led the way, forcing himself to slow down when all he wanted to do was march. Or better yet, get the fuck out because this wasn’t supposed to be his problem at all. He kept an eye on Izumo, though; he didn’t feel like getting on Gin Charlie’s bad side tonight.
Izumo kept careful pace with the kid, minding his balance and his not-thinking.
Halfway down the hall, sudden as a popping soap-bubble, Izumo’s henge went in an erratic flicker of a chakra. In an eyeblink his face went from ageless to merely young, the faint edgings of time touching around his lips and the corners of his eyes. He grimaced and kept walking, tilting his head forward to better hide his eye, bangs sliding thickly together.
It wasn’t far to the elevator. Not really. Orochimaru’s labs and hidden bases, those were long and winding and maze-like in the worst possible way. But this place was pretty straightforward, actually. Zaku had gotten confused a few times, but never lost.
Izumo didn’t look too good, shifting between illusions without any discernible pattern.
Monster did a number on him, huh?
Zaku gritted his teeth and rounded the corner into the common room. The elevator was right there. Izumo would make it.
Sure.
Izumo made it and leaned against the wall heavily. He was starting to feel a little wobbly now. He’d probably crash out on the medics. Except he didn’t think he wanted to sleep inside anymore. No, he didn’t think that was a good idea. He grimaced and bit at his lip, pinching himself on the wrist. Stay awake.
“Thanks, kid,” he muttered to Zaku, softly.
Zaku tipped his head back, eyes narrowed tight. This wasn’t a good situation. Zaku’s training hadn’t covered this, really. He could deal with orders and Gin Charlie had given him some, but still...
What was he supposed to do with Izumo, anyway?
Keep him moving, probably.
“Keep it together,” Zaku said, shortly. “C’mon. I’m not carrying you.”
“I know.” Izumo huffed a tired laugh. Keep it together after it was all shattered on the floor. Right. Except he wasn’t thinking about it. So he didn’t. “You’re not burned?”
“No.” Zaku kept his tone short. Businesslike. This was a mission. He’d treat it like one and it would end better. “Come on.”
Talking was not moving.
Izumo shoved away from the wall and only wobbled a little. Okay, he could do this. Elevator, then infirmary. Then out. He shivered just once and walked to the elevator.
That was better. That was progress.
Zaku dodged around Izumo and jabbed the button that would take them to the infirmary. Once the medics got their claws into Izumo, he could disappear. Somewhere. And stay gone until things cleared over, or someone shared more information about the...
Thing. That had attacked Izumo.
Either way, Zaku doubted he’d be sleeping again for a while. After something like this, it wasn’t smart.
Izumo openly clutched at the railing and swayed when the elevator started. Ugh. He hated this thing. “Godsdamn death trap,” he muttered under his breath.
Well, yeah. Zaku scowled and hunched down lower. “Thanks for the reminder,” he snapped.
Stupid metal box. It didn’t move fast enough.
“Don’t take it out on me,” Izumo returned, but his retort didn’t have enough bite in it. Yeah, drugs were working. Things were going hazy and distant now.
Zaku shifted just enough to glare at Izumo instead of the world at large. “Make me.”
The door clicked open before anything could come of that.
“When I’m not drugged to the gills, I will,” Izumo answered, and swayed when he started walking. Oh the wobbly knees yes so much fun. He could make it, and he would, but damn he was starting to go under fast. Too much too soon and then the drugs to sweep it all way. He staggered and nearly went down, chakra flickering erratically but he couldn’t control it to catch himself.
Yeah, right. Zaku snorted, and stepped back to watch the mess. Konoha was an enemy village. All of the Leaf shinobi were on the opposing side and were threats to Orochimaru’s ends. They needed to be treated as such.
Besides, agreeing not to kill each other wasn’t the same as a promise to play nice.
Zaku folded his arms across his chest and made no move whatsoever to help Izumo.
Izumo made it to a cot, and sagged onto it. He eyed Zaku. “Get a medic, kid,” he muttered, bracing his arms against the cot to steady himself.
Medic. Right.
Zaku narrowed his eyes, but did what he was told. Later he’d figure something out, either a different place to sleep or a better way to deal with Izumo. But for now he just trotted off and flagged down the first person he saw in a lab coat. Zaku didn’t like them at all, but they knew what they were doing. Most medics did.
He jerked his head back towards Izumo. “He’s burned. Hurry up.”
The medic swore lightly. “I’ll bring the cream. What about you?”
Oh, no way. Zaku backed up immediately. “I’m fine. Fix him.”
And don’t come any closer, thanks.
The man nodded and went to get the cream, heading off at a brisk walk.
Okay. That was easy.
Zaku eyed the medic suspiciously, then followed him back to Izumo. Carefully. At a safe distance.
It paid to know what was going on. And if Izumo really was in bad shape? Well, that was worth knowing too.
Izumo was still upright, if just barely. He looked up, hazily, and tensed before he realized it was the medic. He started pulling his shirt off, working it over his head. His bangs went everywhere, and as he straightened up he caught a glimpse of a familiar teenage face peering past the curtain.
The impression was there and gone again as the medic clucked over the blistered burns and started smoothing the salve over his chest.
All Oto-nin had a relationship with medics. Not always a good one. Zaku hung back, watching but standing just out of striking distance. Medics could help but they could hurt. Sometimes at the same time, for the same purpose.
It was important to understand. For strategic reasons.
Zaku folded his arms across his chest and watched.
The medic daubed on the ointment. “This is pretty big. I’ll go get some gauze to tape over it.” He turned and left, brushing past Zaku on his way out.
Izumo waited a beat, listening very hard to footsteps. Then he reached out and picked up his shirt. Then the bottle of ointment. He sat a moment, thinking, before he levered himself up, pushing against the bed. He wobbled but stayed upright. Okay. Now go, before the medic came back and made him stay. It was not safe in here. He was going.
He thumped a shoulder into the doorframe as he passed it.
Huh. Somebody was making a break for it. Zaku tipped his head back, wondering what the best course of action would be. If Izumo had been an Oto-nin, then maybe Zaku would have helped him. Usually if you were capable of standing, you were capable of dealing with whatever shit the world threw at you. Lying around wasn’t productive, and if you weren’t productive you didn’t eat.
Of course, Izumo was not an Oto-nin. He fought for Konoha’s side,
This wasn’t complicated, really. It was just a thing.
Zaku popped his knuckles and decided to follow.
Just in case. Something interesting might happen.
Izumo did not notice as such - it was a background noise, Zaku’s footsteps. He kept walking, moving along. The elevator was....there, and he staggered twice before he made it. He hit the button and slipped in the moment the doors opened. He poked the right buttons and leaned against the wall.
Elevators were death traps, but Oto-nin weren’t supposed to be afraid of dying. Zaku was a good soldier. He’d survived this long, hadn’t he? Hadn’t even gotten killed yet at the Games and almost everyone he knew had died at least once. Died and been brought back to fight again. It went in circles.
Zaku had taken the arena. He could take a metal box.
Even if it had Izumo in it.
Zaku did a quick-step, chakra on his feet, and slipped in before the doors closed.
Izumo flinched and his hand moved automatically in a reach for senbon, but he didn’t have any on him. He blinked at Zaku, then his eyes narrowed. “What?” he asked, voice slurred and thick.
Zaku scowled at him, hands twitching. Even so, he didn’t move into stance. The elevator was small. It might as well have been a kill-box. One jutsu and they’d both be splattered across the floor. Another mess for Gin Charlie to clean up. “Nothing.”
Izumo wasn’t sure he believed that but he’d let it slide. For now. He was too tired to do anything about it. He swayed when the elevator stopped and gathered himself up again, before moving. It was hard to walk - his legs kept wanting to fold up, and he was so very sleepy. But it was not safe here. He had to get someplace safe to sleep.
Konoha was safe, but Konoha was not here.
Trees were the next best thing.
Izumo headed for the glass doors of the lobby.
No fighting so far, so that was good. Zaku let the distance widen, then began following Izumo again. Trailing another shinobi wasn’t easy, but it became a little more so when drugs were involved. Especially sedatives.
Nobody moved as well when they were under.
A few people were up and about, but not many, and no one stopped them.
Okay, door were tricky. Damn tricky. “Oh fuck it,” Izumo whined, pushing at the door again. He staggered and hit his knees when it finally gave, and swore again in a blistering lash. He hated doors. Definitely, and now his knees were bloody. He lumbered to his feet and edged out onto the patio, letting the door swing shut behind him.
….huh.
Zaku cocked his head and watched Izumo fuss at the door. Drugs fucked with everything. Pain you could deal with. Pain could be ignored or even used if you tried hard enough. But sedatives? Those weren’t good at all. Zaku avoided them whenever he could.
Pain was more reliable than a drug fog.
The door gave him no trouble at all.
Hahaa. Score one for him! Zaku allowed himself a moment of petty victory, then went back to following Izumo.
Which really was not that hard, at all.
Must have been strong drugs, then.
Izumo got into the trees, then turned around and glared at Zaku. “The fuck ya want, bastard?” he demanded, words slurred but tone sharp, annoyed.
Up in the tree, huh? Zaku scowled up at Izumo and made no move to follow. “None of your business.”
Just observation, really. Figuring out how the enemy functioned, because eventually Izumo would try to kill him.
“Well fuck off, guttersnipe,” Izumo declared, over his shoulder, as he climbed another branch higher. Climbing was easier than walking, just a moment’s scramble then a rest. He leaned against the rough bole of the tree and scowled down at Zaku again. Somewhere in the haze he’d lost the polite forms of speech and reverted to a rough slum accent.
How nice. Zaku bared his teeth in a sneer. Izumo’s accent had shifted into something rougher, a little harder to follow. Konoha shinobi had a funny accent anyway - just enough to notice, but not usually to stumble over - but now? Now it was getting thick.
Zaku applied chakra to his feet and hopped up in the branches. Izumo didn’t get to tell him what to do. “No. I can be here.”
He could. The trees didn’t belong to anybody, and Izumo wasn’t in the shape to fight for them.
“Damn punk.” Izumo looked around, grabbed a green acorn, and bounced it off the top of Zaku’s head. Hah! That’d show him. “Get yer own fuckin’ tree.”
Ow! Zaku slapped at the acorn too late, ducking under a branch with a scowl. “Make me.”
Izumo was drugged. The fuck was he gonna do about it?
Izumo’s reply generously insulted Zaku’s parents, his hobbies, and his personal anatomy in fine detail with great creativity. He grabbed another green acorn and popped Zaku on the knee with it. Damn, he’d been aiming for his toes.
Insults were nothing new. Zaku had started more than a few fights over them in Otogakure, even a few here. Izumo’s were a bit sharper than most. More creative. Zaku narrowed his eyes and snatched the acorn before it could fall. “Yeah, well you’re fucking crazy, so what’re you gonna do?”
Then he aimed the acorn at the spot between Izumo’s eyes, and threw as hard as he could.
Izumo ducked and nearly fell off his branch. Okay bad idea. “Fuck you with a rusty kunai.”
How about not? Zaku bared his teeth. “Like you’d even get close enough to try.”
Because that wouldn’t be happening tonight. Not with coordination that fucked up.
Izumo thought about it, and eyed Zaku.
He swung a leg over and dropped from his branch to the one right above Zaku’s head, hands catching at the rough bark, shirt and salve left up in the tree.
Zaku tensed, shifting into a lower stance automatically. He could make himself a small target; there had never been much to him. Izumo was much closer now, enough to make a proper threat of it. But there wasn’t much point in killing him.
Yet.
He stared up at Izumo with narrowed eyes and waited.
“Boo,” said Izumo.
Point made, he climbed back up to a wider branch.
….
What the fuck?
Zaku straightened immediately, glaring after Izumo. “What?”
“I can too get that fuckin’ close,” Izumo retorted, beginning to settle himself down for sleep, settling his legs and wedging himself more securely in a narrow space between two branches. He padded the left side with his shirt and shoved the ointment into a pocket.
Uh-huh. Right.
Zaku scowled at Izumo, as darkly as he could. “You weren’t a threat.”
Obviously.
“You shut up.” Izumo leaned his head against the tree, eyelids drooping. He was tired and he was safe now. Zaku’s irritation was a long way off, and Izumo yawned largely.
“Make me,” Zaku shot back, settling against the tree. The branch was sturdy enough to hold him, no problem. He’d followed Izumo this far; there really wasn’t much of a reason to leave yet. Nothing interesting had happened yet. Or at least nothing useful.
“Go suck yourself, little fucker,” Izumo retorted, sleepily, with a long sigh. He was beginning to drift, relaxing back against the tree. Trees were good. Trees were safe. Little annoying brat hadn’t killed him so far.
Hmph. That was disgusting. Zaku glared, though it was probably lost on Izumo. A lot of things would be now, from the looks of it. “Fuck you.”
There wasn’t really a tactical reason to kill him, was there?
“You ain’t old ‘nough.” Izumo yawned again. He let his head drop and felt the long rolling slide into sleep, then wakefulness again. Bleah, he didn’t like that much. Got too worked up....
That was just an insult. It didn’t mean anything real. Or at least not to Zaku. He kept on glaring and held very still. Something interesting might happen. Besides, he’d already learned that Izumo had bad nightmares, and some sort of freakout afterwards. The kind that took sedatives to power through. So that was useful. Zaku wasn’t exactly sure how, but he could work on that. He had time.
There was lots of time here.
For the moment, he just watched. And glared. The glaring was important. It kept this from becoming friendly, which was dangerous.
Izumo went under in a long slow drag, and slept at last, his breathing deep and slow and regular. Wedged between branches and balanced against the trunk he slept without fear of falling; with the sedatives in his blood he slept heavily. Very little would wake him up now.
Zaku blinked. Was that it?
….
Well that was boring.
Zaku wondered what he was supposed to do now. Avoid Gin Charlie. Avoid the monster-thing that burned people in their sleep. Train. Or possibly go back to sleep himself.
Yeah, that wouldn’t happen anytime soon.
He’d learned a little about Izumo, though. Maybe enough to use. Zaku popped his knuckles, then hopped down from the tree.
Now seemed like a good time to train. Wasn’t like he had anything better to do.