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The restraints don’t hurt, but Minato knows he’s not getting off of this table without others to help him. The numbness in his hands isn’t as bad at the least. He can feel pinpricks of pain as feeling begins to return to them.
Giving the Yamanaka a small smile, Minato glanced at the needle briefly. “If it’s all the same, I’d rather not have the sedative. I don’t think the fox will play very nice if I’m not there to ease the situation.”
He remembered, oddly, making a sort of truce with the Kyuubi whilst they were trapped together. But at the same time, he remembered the way the fox had tormented him for what felt like centuries as well.
“Just be careful.”
It brings Santa to a halt. He glances between the other interrogator, and they seem to trade questions in complete silence. There really is no other way to interpret the word ‘fox’, and this makes the plans all the more confusing.
Lord Fifth mentioned nothing about a fox.
“That’s going on the report.” Ibiki mutters, folding a few pages over the back of the clipboard to jot that down. Seems like it’s important if there are two Jinchuuriki running around. Was that even possible? Maybe, but Minato hadn’t lied to them about anything yet.
Lips drawn together, Santa sets the syringe down on the counter, drawing his right hand up into a seal.
“Then please do not resist me, Lord Fourth.” It was going to be difficult already, if the Kyuubi truly resided within him.
He isn’t surprised to see Ibiki here. As far as Minato could recall, this man had always been the best within the interrogation department. “I’m not entirely trusting of myself, but even I can tell you that I’m a threat.” It’s a simple fact. Minato could destroy a lot of lives before his own would finally be snuffed out.
Standing willingly, he had promised cooperation at the least, and Minato follows them down, down, blue eyes squinting at the bright light. Even with the cuffs removed, he’s fully aware that he can’t possibly take all of them.
So Minato lays on the table, shoving down the instinct that tells him to fight back. To run, to escape –
He complies instead. Best to get this over with.
Minato’s only answer for the moment is a gruff noise in agreement from Ibiki. Yes, he was a threat, technically. So were the ANBU, if they decided to turn face and sliced him up. So was Ibiki, who had a wealth of information other villages would kill to be able to strip from him. Every shinobi was a threat on some level.
Ibiki’s job was to figure out if someone else could possibly control Minato against them. Nothing on if the man turned traitor completely on his own.
The assistants quickly move in. Minato is strapped securely, and some of the wrappings on his fingers are removed, to allow them to breathe. They’re kept in twos, but allowed to rest.
“I’m Yamanaka Santa.” The orange-haired assistant, a man, greets him, finally.
“It’s an honor working with you, sir.” And an apologetic smile follows, tapping at the tip of a needle in his hands.
“It’s a sedative. I’m going to be digging around in your mind for anything someone could’ve planted.”
As much as he tries, there’s truly very little rest that he gets that night. His hands go numb at some point as the hours pass, unused to being held in one position for long. He settles back, is able to get perhaps a few hours here and there, but nothing that allows him to feel truly rested.
His mind is in too much of a whirlwind for the rest of the night, concerns coming up far too easily for him to properly do anything. Minato wants to know how he was brought back, wants to know why, but he remembers nothing past the day he had died.
Blue eyes flicker up upon seeing the shinobi enter, and he offers a nod to the man. There are visible bags under Minato’s eyes, his clothes are rumpled. But he sits up despite this, holds on to what pride that he can.
“Ibiki-san.” The name comes to mind after only a moment. He’s mentally preparing as best he can for what is to come.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” Minato tries for a smile that probably resembles a grimace more than anything.
“Deducing if you’re a sleeper agent. Or a time bomb. Or both.” Same thing. He wasn’t going to stick around for pleasantries, flicking over the pages to see the routine tests he and Lord Fifth agreed upon. Nostalgic man, wasn’t he? Wanted to go in really gentle. They were shinobi, they could take more. Orders were orders in the end.
“Against all sound logic, you’re back. Guess we have to see if we can keep you.” Didn’t look a damn day older than the day the fox attacked.
At his signal, the ANBU come forward to unlock the cell, surrounding Minato and pulling him up to stand. One hand hooked into each arm, Minato is led outside the cell, and the group follows Ibiki back out.
It’s a bit of a walk. Down, down, down, with twisting stares and a door each thicker than the last. But the room is brightly lit, at least. Minato is led to a tilted metal block.
The cuffs are removed, guards keeping a perfect triangle three steps back.
“Make this easy on us and lay down. You’ll be strapped in.”
All the while, Minato holds still, already accepting of whatever they chose to do with him. He nods to Itachi, giving the current Hokage a small smile. “Thank you.” He knows that this is protocol, and so when the ANBU take a hold of him, Minato doesn’t fight it.
He follows them out of the room, offering no resistance as he’s lead from the office and, after a while, into a holding cell. His wrists are bound, one in front, the other behind his back. Fingers separated as Itachi had ordered, seals applied, and then he’s sat down in a chair. Just a precaution, Minato keeps telling himself as he closes his eyes.
It was just a precaution.
“Rest well, Lord Fourth.” The final ANBU to leave the room tells him. A woman’s voice. Her hand lingers on the door for a moment, but she too eventually slips out.
Itachi finally returns to his desk. He will work without his robes for the rest of the day, leaning them over his chair so they can be washed when he returns home. The work has piled up in those few critical hours, but he’s always been good at getting what he needs to, done, and by the time the sun is setting, his desk is clear.
Mother notices something is off, immediately, when Itachi returns home. She visits daily, to make sure Itachi is getting properly fed, as well as giving him updates on Naruto, who flits inbetween the home his parents chose, and Itachi’s small abode.
But Itachi is also not at leisure to simply tell her about it, and she’ll trust in her son– her eldest, who achieved a position most Uchiha thought impossible, to get through it. She’s here, for anything. Even if just blind support.
When the sky is truly dark, she leaves him for the night, Naruto nestled up in her arms, deep asleep. Itachi cleans up the plates, and readies himself for bed. In the morning, it is the same routine he’s followed, minus chasing a blond around for fifteen minutes to get him to put pants on.
Ibiki makes a visit to his office at 9:10AM. They discuss what is to be done to Minato, and the lines they are not allowed to cross, unless it can be proven without the shadow of a doubt that Minato was being used as a sleeper agent.
Itachi will not attend.
At 9:45 AM, the padded door at the end of the cells opens, heavy footfalls coming closer. It is Ibiki, followed closely by five other ninja. Two of his interrogators, three ANBU. A different rotation than yesterday.
“Lord Fourth.” He greets, with a respectful nod, glancing down at his clipboard.
Itachi gives Minato a soft nod. Gives him chakra gently, unsure of what the seals do, exactly, but willing to help. Itachi trusts his judgement in others a fair bit, and doesn’t at all believe that Minato is as dangerous as he’s telling him. Perhaps that’s a mistake, but usually he’s been right. He’ll take that chance.
When Minato is through with his ritual, Itachi takes a hold of the other’s wrists, helping him up slowly.
“One hand in front, the other in the back.” Keeping his tone soft. It’s a request between two friends, not a demand made from a village leader to a threat. Once more Itachi nods, but this time, it is to allow his ANBU guards to open the door and re-enter the office.
He wants it to be crystal clear this isn’t done to humiliate Minato. This is simply precaution, that Minato himself said was necessary.
“I will have interrogation see you at it’s earliest convenience. Please wait until then.”
Separating the hands meant seals could not be formed. For most shinobi, anyways.
That bit of chakra imbued inside of the seals feels like a blessing to the man. He visibly relaxes as the ink settles, can feel each and every sense dampening to a more manageable level, something that doesn’t make him want to tear at his flesh in order to focus on something other than too much.
He’s grateful that Itachi had trusted him, even though there’s a part of Minato that wishes the toher had questioned him about the seals.
Minato stands, feeling like a weight had lifted from his chest, gaze briefly flickering to the ANBU that enter the office. Complying, one hand going behind his back, the other still in front of him, he gives Itachi’s wrist a gentle squeeze before releasing it.
“I can still do seals with only one hand.” He may as well warn him. Precautions were necessary in this case.
The ANBU, three of them– glance between each other. Itachi doesn’t have to be a mind reader to know what they’re thinking. In cases like this, fingers are usually broken pre-emptively or outright cut off for more dangerous people. But Itachi doesn’t want to go that far, even if a skilled medic could heal the wounds later on.
“Please separate his fingers by twos, and curl the index and middle into each other. Keep the thumb flat against the side.” He reaches in to demonstrate, even as the officers visibly tense. “With sturdy bandages and an additional seal.” He adds.
UchihaSavior 