When I first arrive here, in a haze of chemical-induced semi-consciousness, I can barely make out the faces of my future tormentors. I can't hold myself up, can't fight them off, but I have enough strength of will to spit in the face of the man in charge. I regret it now; undoubtedly, the cycle of beatings and torture interspersed with starvation and interrogations would have happened regardless, but maybe they wouldn't have gone on so long.

I don't know how long they last. I know they take care of me, afterwards; I'm no good to them crippled or dead. But that just makes it easier for them to schedule the 'sessions' more frequently.

I hold up admirably, I think. Takes me a few days before I start screaming. More than a week before I first beg for the sweet release of death.

I still remember that moment. There were three of them in there, two taking turns with various metal instruments, the third the man in charge, watching with a look of satisfaction on his face, his eyes glinting in pleasure. I feel it as cold metal slices into me, severing tendons and ligaments, twisting nerves, eliciting screams of pain from my tattered vocal chords. There wasn't any point in holding them back; it just made the men try harder.

The man in charge works to hide it from his subordinates, but we Nara are very adept at observation. The minute twitching around His mouth, the slightly glazed look that comes over His eyes. There's something about this torture that excites Him.

So I beg for it all to stop.

He grins in victory.

XXXXX

My first day free from my dungeon cell and its persistent scent of various bodily fluids is like a breath of fresh air. I cower under the eyes of Him as I'm led to a room set aside for bathing, where I'm met by a girl my age. Her hair is black, her skin lightly tanned, eyes a cool grey, her bone structure a close enough resemblence that I recognize her as His daughter.

The girl stands up and introduces herself as Agane. Her smile is tender, her hands warm on my bruised body as she undresses me and guides me into the soothing bath. Only my experiences with Him allow me to see the same almost-hidden smile as her eyes trail over my scars, the glint in her eyes telling me that she enjoys the evidence of my suffering as well.

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

One second she's bathing me, whispering soothing words of comfort in my ear, the next she's strangling me underwater as I struggle weakly against her hold. Just as darkness begins to seep in on the edges of my vision, I'm pulled up into a soothing grasp. My gasps for air turn into hacking coughs as Agane croons in my ear, rubbing my back as if I were a sick child.

My tortures aren't over, it seems.

XXXXX

The next few months are a more subtle effort, but persistent nonetheless. They work to break down whatever sense of self I have and construct a vessel of servitude in its place. The cruelty is more calculated, more designed to mold me into their tool than to destroy me outright.

I spend a few weeks in a cage, not big enough to stand, or long enough to lay down in.

I'm brought to a house on a lake and spend two days in relative comfort, before being awoken in the middle of the night and beaten by several men.

I suffer the effects of genjutsu, showing my village burning, my friends and family dying, over and over until I wonder if I'm stuck once again in the world of Tsukiyomi. They have talented genjutsu users here, ones almost as strong as those I've seen in Konoha.

Finally, it stops.

XXXXX

My room is small, barely eight feet by ten feet, cheaply paneled with cold stone floors and a single bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The furnishings consist of a cot along one wall with rough woolen beddings that itched when I lay down, and nothing else.

That was it; no dresser, no shelves, no books, no scrolls, nothing to draw my attention from the harsh reality that my life has been these past six months. At least, I think it's been six months; I could be off by a bit. It's hard to keep track of time after what I've been through.

I await, anxiously, the entrance of my captors. I hear a few light scuffles that indicate someone in the room outside of mine, my heart thumping in my chest at the thought of someone, anyone, coming in to break the monotony of loneliness that is my existence. A sick desperation for human contact almost overwhelms me, but I fight it down—I still have some pride, and some part of me revolts at the idea of clawing at the door, jibbering in near-insanity.

It's been at least three days since I've seen another person.

The door opens, and in steps a man I've only seen once before. He wears very stately robes, and his chakra shoots through his body like concentrated lightning, stronger than almost anyone I've ever seen before. His skin is tanned and rough, weathered and yet still giving off an air of youth and vitality.

He is the Raikage.

He enters my room as I lay on my cot, with Him moving to flank him on either side. My room is barely large enough for me, so it feels overcrowded with the two of them in it, too.

"Shikako Nara," The Raikage starts, his voice strong and fierce. "I've seen your fuinjutsu myself. I'm very impressed with you," He says, as if he were a teacher praising a particularly creative student.

It's a very concise explanation of the reason for the horrors I've suffered. I don't meet his eyes, simply nodding my head in quick jerks as I stare somewhere over his shoulder.

"This place you're living in, it's completely unsuitable for someone of your talents. How would you like one bigger? With a window, where you could look outside?" His voice takes on a comforting, almost grandfatherly tone, and I can sense the subtle almost-genjutsu he uses to induce a sense of hope and desire in my mind.

I nod, more sure of myself than I've felt for a long time.

He smiles, and my mouth twitches in response. It's the best I can do.

XXXXX

My new room is in the same building, above ground, up several flights of stairs. It's slightly larger with actual wood floors. The bed is an actual bed, though narrow, with real sheets that actually let me sleep. There's a desk in the corner, not too big, its finishing worn from use over the years but well enough maintained for my purposes. And a window, where the sun actually shines through and I can see trees.

My heart is in my throat. I almost cry in simple joy.

At night, when the sun sets and the only light is from the fixture hanging from the ceiling, I look in the window and see my reflection. It's not perfect, but it lets me see the shadows under my eyes, my sallow skin and limp hair, the scar running up my neck towards my face. It almost looks like a stranger's face, but I can still see hints of the girl I was before.

I turn off the light and go to sleep.

XXXXX

Over the next few weeks, I start working. The Raikage visited me again, and said that if I did more work for him, I'd be rewarded. And if I didn't, well. He'd be disappointed. Very disappointed.

The Man from downstairs is with him. He smiles in anticipation. I shudder and nod, my breath catching in my throat.

The Raikage leaves, and Agane brings in a few scrolls and some ink. She also brings in another chair and whispers in my ear, "If you even think of doing something stupid, I'll take away your toys and we'll bring you back downstairs."

I shudder as her hand runs through my hair. She smiles. I barely keep myself from throwing up.

XXXXX

It takes weeks, but I finish the first of the seals they want me to complete—the chakra storage seal I'd once dreamed of designing. It's twisted and complex, an integrated spiral with complex patterns intertwined. The design is rough, and could use some refinement, but it should definitely work.

Agane's in the room with me when I finish. She smiles. I hesitate and smile a little back. It feels good to get to work again.

The next morning, I'm awoken by two of them as they pull in a teenage boy after them. He's only a few years older than me, his chakra stores marking him as a mid-range genin.

She walks up to me and starts playing with my hair. I suppress the reflexive shudder and listen to what she says.

"Kenichi has volunteered to be the first recipient of your new seal, Shikako," her voice calmly states. I look in his eyes, and there is a little bit of fear and a lot of determination, but no hesitation. I can almost admire that.

He lifts his shirt, and I start applying the seal to his stomach, right above his hara. It takes about fifteen minutes, and when I'm done I nod and place my brush on my desk. A spark of my chakra activates the seal; it glows blue and solidifies into the appearance of a normal tattoo.

The boy looks at me, then at Him. He nods, and the boy channels chakra into the seal. The black ink glows bright blue, then when he stops feeding chakra, the seal becomes encircled by a single ring. About a third of the boy's chakra is missing, sealed away. He looks again to Him, and then releases the seal; the circle vanishes and the chakra floods back into the boy's system. He smiles. Everyone smiles.

I smile.

XXXXX

In the next month, after several rounds of testing, I start applying the seal to Cloud shinobi. Men, women, chuunin, jounin, even their equivalent of ANBU. Hundreds of shinobi, some very high up in the Cloud hierarchy, or so I'm told. I even apply it to Him. He stares at me the whole time, almost leering, as if he's imagining me without any clothes on.

Or without any skin. I can never tell.

I shudder and move on. As the weeks go by, I keep working. I end up placing the seal on thousands of them.

I'm almost done.

One day, Agane's in my room with me, as I work on completing my next seal. She looks over my shoulder once, then lays down on my bed and talks about her own hopes and dreams. How she wants to show her family her true strength. How she wants to make her father and the Raikage proud. How she wants Hidden Cloud to be the undisputed power in the ninja world. And how I'm helping that reality to come to pass.

I smile feebly and she smirks in response.

She gets up and reaches for the door.

The wood splinter in my hand is worn and smooth; not quite the same sort of projectile as Haku's senbon from a lifetime ago, but sufficient for the task at hand. It pierces her neck, between the third and fourth vertebrae. I feel her chakra shudder, her breath gasp from her lungs. Before she can fall to the ground, I catch her, moving with speed and grace they didn't think I still had. I tie her to the chair and get to work.

XXXXX

I know when Agane wakes up by how her chakra stutters in her coils. I look over and see the awareness returning to her eyes, the befuddlement and confusion as her head lolls to the side. She pulls at her arms, but in her weakened state, the torn beddings I've used to secure her are more than up to the challenge, and her chakra won't return to her control for long after it'll matter. Muffled sounds come from her mouth, but the gag I tied around her head keeps them quiet.

After a few minutes, she can pull her head up to look around. I see the recognition flare in her eyes as she takes me in. No longer am I showing the huddled, tortured façade of the victim they tried to make me into. I stand straight, my hands resting at my sides, my gaze strong and unflinching as it meets hers. I see the anger, and a hint of fear in her eyes, and I smile.

"My name is Shikako Nara. I am a shinobi of Konoha. And you are a fool."

My voice rasps from my throat—it's been almost five months since I last spoke a word—but she hears me clearly. I motion to the wall above my desk; it's a complex seal, consisting of zigzagging lines moving outward, with a mix of kanji and indecipherable (to them) English words that this world has no equivalent of in between and around the edges. It looks like a child's stick drawing, like an abstract Picasso, but to me, its purpose is clear as day.

In the very center of the seal is the same chakra storage seal written in blood—my blood, of course. It is MY seal, after all. I watch her face as she takes it in. It's big, reaching from the edge of the desk almost to the ceiling, almost four whole feet wide.

"The seal you had me create is very good, and very efficient," I say, the strength returning to my voice with continued use (and a dash of healing chakra). "It draws the chakra from the body and stores it until the user releases it. Simple and effective. It's the simplest intentions that are often the hardest to express, though, so the comparative complexity of the seal isn't unexpected."

I picked up a copy of the seal I'd drawn out on a scroll and held it up so that Agane can see it. "And, of course, provided the seal isn't disrupted, it works exactly as designed. But, if you stop the flow of chakra here, here, and here," I point to three specific areas on the seal, "You disrupt the designed flow of chakra in the seal and instead force it to flow in a different direction. Sealing is like water, after all—it always seeks the easiest way downhill."

I put down that scroll and pick up another. "This is how the seal looks if you disrupt those three points. Do you recognize anything? Do the new shapes resemble anything familiar…? Ah, good, you DO see it." I smirk at the look of horror on her face. "Yes, the new shape is quite similar—not exactly, of course, but close enough—to an explosive seal."

Her eyes stare at me in shock as I move back to the seal painted on the wall. "So, you might ask yourself, what do I plan to do? Well, it's quite simple—I plan to disrupt the seals I've placed on all of your shinobi all at once. All I have to do is activate this seal. It works through the premise of radio broadcasts, you see." I point to the zigzagging lines radiating out from the center. "These will send a broadcast 'message' out, ordering the storage seal to activate fully. The brilliance of this broadcast is that it will use natural energy as the emitter, and the signal will be carried by waves of natural energy that will spread out wherever there is natural energy. Which is everywhere, of course.

"The seals will activate, drain their hosts of all their chakra, then block those three points, and activate again. Some of those are on ninja with quite a lot of chakra, so those should be some mighty large explosions!"

I grin, and now I see the fear on her face. "You see it now, don't you? You thought you'd broken me and molded me into the perfect tool. But the entire time, through every torture, every indignity, every moment of pain, I was simply biding my time, waiting for this moment." I stepped forward until I was hovering over her. I ran my hand through her hair, just like how she would to me. I felt her shudder.

I stepped behind the chair and leaned down until I was speaking almost directly in her ear. "And I couldn't have accomplished all of this without you. Now, watch as I destroy everything you hold dear—your hopes, your dreams, your family. Just as you once sought to destroy mine." I hissed, reaching my arm out and sending a flare of chakra into the seal on the wall.

It started the middle, glowing blue, spreading along the ink pathways from the center outward. Then, the seal turned white, almost blinding in its intensity, until I could almost feel the thrumming of its activation in my bones. Then, almost like a shockwave, natural energy flared outward, almost bursting in its intensity, flying out to carry my will to every seal I'd made during my captivity.

As the intensity of the activation passed, I realized I could hear pained shrieking from outside my room. "That would be your father, I believe. He's feeling his chakra being sucked away. I wonder if he realizes that he's about to die?"

She's shaking in anguish, her face frozen in a rictus of horror. I hear whimpers from behind her gag and a nasty grin splits my face. "It's time for me to go now," I taunt, as I step up to the window. I place a Touch Blast on the glass and step back to Agane. "Know that your dad will keep screaming until he's dead. And once he stops, about a second later, he'll explode. Should take down the entire building, I think." The window bursts in a blast large enough to clear away the glass.

I run my hands down her hair in a mocking comfort, then wrap them around her neck. Her eyes meet mine, and I see the tortured pain in them one last time. "You really shouldn't have crossed the Shikabane-hime," I hiss.

Then I snap her fucking neck.