damned_institute | Disciplinary Therapy Room 2 [M-U for Kurogane]

Having been sedated the entirety of the day had not left Kurogane's senses in the best of conditions. However, with that time the Ninja had slowly been adjusting to the effects the drugs had on him. He'd become more aware of movement around him, so he had understood when the nurses had returned for him. There hadn't been a fight though, only because he couldn't remember beyond them entering and saying they'd be taking him.

They wanted to take him from Dinner.

As soon as the fog cleared and Kurogane could latch onto that one thought, his eyes finally snapped open, but then snapped shut just as fast. The light was much brighter than when he would wake up from the night, and when he attempted to move, he found it not only difficult, but impossible. He didn't struggle frantically, but tested areas to see which he could move and which, he soon learned, were restrained.

It didn't take much to understand what had happened. He'd been taken. Just like those notes on the board had said, and just as Zabuza had warned. And it had happened without even a shred of resistance! The anger at that thought caused one reaction of violence as Kurogane stressed what restraints he could, lashing out with a roar of frustration.

There was no reaction for a moment, then came the click of footsteps against tile as the doctor moved closer, pausing just outside of the circle of light around the table as he clapped in apparent congratulations. "'Let him roar again, let him roar again'," he observed, with a touch of a wry tone in his voice. "Clearly you've awakened, so it's time to begin, then."

Despite his words the man didn't move from where he stood, only watching his subject for a moment longer as he lifted a hand to adjust his glasses, light glinting briefly off their lenses in a stray reflection as he considered. "I must say I appreciate your timing, though. Your little...expedition last night has provided quite the opportunity for me."

The clapping stopped his sudden outburst cold, and Kurogane's attention turned towards the sound. He couldn't see anything beyond the ray of light, but the sound of the voice alerted him to the presence of the other finally. He'd been too drugged and too angered by the realization of his position to notice before that he was not alone.

"Who the--?!" he snapped, but halted himself before the curse and question were out. Much as he wanted to yell out exactly what he was thinking, he would not let his frustration get the better of him. It was too dangerous to allow that.

Teeth grinding hard, Kurogane eased out of his rage enough to form a better question, one that had a better chance of being answered. "The hell are you going to do?" Granted, the question still reflected his anger at the situation, but he had a right to that emotion at least. First his arm and now this nightmare...!

"Well..." The doctor started to reply but then suddenly paused, with a thoughtful 'hnn'. "I hadn't thought about that before. But dear me, what am I supposed to call you? Certainly not "Aiden Cross." Though you do seem to attract all number of names."

The man sighed and stepped into the light finally, standing with one arm across his chest and the other hand resting against his chin. "And an assortment of nicknames. Should I call you Kurogane? Kuro-puu? Kuro-tan? Mm. No." He began to pace in a slow circle around the table, fingertip tapping against his cheek thoughtfully. "No, no. That will never do."

He paused at the foot of the table and crouched down, out of sight; he grunted softly with apparent effort, and something heavy could be heard sliding across the floor, closer toward the head. "No, let's not go with any pretenses here, shall we?" he asked, as he rose to his feet again, turning away toward the closest instrument tray. "...You-ou."

Kurogane's body was already tense against the restraints, but it became moreso when the man, whoever the hell he was, started listing off nicknames only the magician used. His name, however, was what caught the most attention from the Ninja. This was the first time here that Kurogane had found anything relating the staff with knowledge of who they really were and where they were really from, but that one mention of his name had sealed it.

They knew. These bastards really were just playing with them, and Landel or whatever he really was was behind it all! But he had figured that out a long time ago. Having proof of it only enforced what Kurogane had already deduced, and it made his reasons for wanting to leave all the more important.

Kurogane's eyes followed as the voice moved, refusing to lose track of this person regardless of being unable to actually see him. The calm, yet hard glare remained in place all the way until the last name was mentioned. A flash of shock came and went, covered quickly by a silent rage. "You.... how do you know that name?" he growled low.

The only person who should know was Princess Tomoyo. He'd never told anyone; she wouldn't have either. Unless...

The doctor pretended complete surprise at that, brows lifting as he glanced back toward his patient for the evening. "It's your name, isn't it? Why shouldn't I know it?" He knew everything about this man, after all. More than just a simple name.

He gave a soft chuckle and leaned in, carefully removing the bandaging over Kurogane's lack of a left arm. His brow creased for a moment as he surveyed the wound, then he sighed and turned away, moving away from the table again. "You just stay there for a moment, puppy," he admonished over his shoulder as he went. "Not that...well, you have any choice in the matter."

There was another soft chuckle, then the doctor disappeared back into the darkness, out of sight.

The act was not one Kurogane bought. Even if he'd only just arrived here, it would not have been that name they would have gotten. Kurogane was all he used and all those who had traveled with him had ever known. There was only Tomoyo. Had they taken her as well? Brought her to this hell and forced her to talk somehow? It panicked the Ninja to think that she could be involved in this even slightly, but he only let things show through anger and a very pointed growl at the stupid questions given as an "answer".

When Kurogane felt the touch at his shoulder, he struggled again without much of a result, but just the movement made him feel better. Getting caught was pathetic enough that he would not just lie down and take whatever this man was planning to do. "Don't touch me!" he roared, but only silence followed. The voice and the man had gone for the moment, leaving Kurogane to his thoughts.

Dammit! What the hell was this?!

No matter what Kurogane said or at what volume he said it, the doctor didn't really seem to notice, much less care. It wasn't as though the supposed "ninja" would be able to do very much, after all, bound and maimed as he was. Everything was exactly as the doctor wanted it for now.

From the darkness to the side, out of sight behind Kurogane's head, there came the quiet sounds of water running and splashing, assorted clinks of metal and scraping plastic, but there was no other sound nor word spoken. For several long minutes there was no acknowledgement that the "patient" was even still present, allowing him to think his own thoughts and believe what he wished.

"Here we are then," the doctor abruptly observed in a cheerful tone, stepping into the light without this time giving any warning of his approach. He kicked a rolling stool a little closer and leaned against its edge, pulling on a pair of gloves with an entirely unneeded snap and flourish before leaning in again to examine his subject's lack of a left arm. "I wouldn't want to keep you waiting, so let's be on with it, shall we?"

This guy wouldn't say much if questioned. Kurogane already knew that much from his attitude, so any mention of Tomoyo would only cause harm. She could end up in more trouble, if she was here, and additionally he'd show too much of a weakness towards her. If she wasn't involved, Kurogane was not going to give this man anything to work with.

For the moment he was ignored, Kurogane left words out and only focused on testing the restraints again. They were proving more difficult than they would if he'd been at normal strength, and even then he wasn't sure he would have been able to break them completely. That would have been too easy.

When the man returned, Kurogane's attention again went towards the voice and snapping of the gloves. The light was still blinding, but he could actually see the form now. He could tell the man was lean and had glasses, but beyond that... beyond that he had started sounding familiar now that he was closer. Some time before now Kurogane was sure he'd heard it, more than once. The pieces did not take much longer to fall into place as Kurogane fianlly matched his travels with not only the voice, but the form. Now, more than just a flick of shock came to his eyes. "You..."

Ah, there - finally. The doctor had been starting to wonder if the sedative drugs hadn't worn completely off yet, considering the lack of a reaction so far. A resemblance was never that difficult to manufacture, and often worth the way it threw the subjects just that little bit more off-balance. Amusing, really.

And for a procedure as long and tedious as this one would surely be, well, he needed all the amusement he could get.

"Me. Yes. Mmm. Has anyone ever told you that you're a brilliant conversationalist? Because if they did, they were lying." The doctor began prodding at the wound thoughtfully, and not very gently at all, his voice lowering to a near-inaudible muttered commentary as he did. Once finally satisfied with the examination, he gave a faint snort and glanced up again. "Well, you're in luck. This should work, after all."

Without waiting for a response from his patient (since whatever he had to say wouldn't make a difference anyway), the man moved over a step, opening the container sitting on the floor and examining its contents with a satisfied sigh. "It would've been a shame indeed to waste this."

The doctor from Spirit, and then the same person that had appeared again in Piffle, Dr. Kyle. Their group had been on the watch for the man since the race incident had proved the exact same person, and not just the same person with a different soul, could reappear in different worlds. That he was in yet another place once again made sense. He'd been behind things before, working from the shadows towards some unknown goal involving the Princess's feathers. And with what Sakura had told them before, his being here meant that there was one more involved, the one pulling all the strings.

Fei Wong Reed.

His fingers would have dug into the table had he been at full strength, but they instead curled into a fist. That man was behind this. The one who had killed his mother, had caused his father's death, was here. If Kyle had thought allowing Kurogane that information would make him falter, he was dead wrong!

The ninja's expression hardened away from the shock towards contempt, and he jerked again against the restraints. Whatever the doctor was planning, or more, whatever Fei Wong Reed was planning, Kurogane wouldn't allow it. These people had done enough to him already, and he refused to take more!

Although he wasn't openly watching the man's reactions, the doctor noted them nonetheless, and his mouth twitched in amusement before he crouched down, disappearing from view for a moment. There came a quiet crinkling of plastic, then he rose to his feet again cradling a half-wrapped object in his hands.

"You see, I'm going to do you a great favor. I'd tell you that you ought to be grateful, but I don't suppose I could expect anything of the sort from you." He turned back toward his patient again, displaying what he held for Kurogane's benefit. It appeared to be a human arm, the skin somewhat darker than Kurogane's own, even pale from cold storage as it was - and as the doctor shifted his hold slightly, some of the wrappings slid to one side, allowing a rather distinctive black tattoo to become visible along its length.

The doctor glanced down at it, then back at Kurogane with a soft chuckle. "I'm going to give you some of the strength you've lost," he observed, sounding quite pleased with himself, as he carefully set his burden down on the table. "Or...perhaps some of what you never managed to attain in the first place."

"You can keep your 'favors'!" Kurogane snapped back, knowing that it would be no favor, whatever the doctor did. So no, he wouldn't be any kind of grateful for something he didn't want.

After his warning, he kept his attention directed up instead of over to what the man held, out of defiance more than anything. He'd already refused to let that man do anything to him, so he would refuse just the same to play along with whatever sick experiment Kyle had concocted. But the doctor would continue regardless of Kurogane's participation, and after some ~~calmer~~ thought on it, Kurogane found that not playing along was not so important as knowing what he was facing. Curiosity also got the better of him, and it caused his to momentarily let his eyes move to the item with the intention of drawing them back. They remained, however, after Kurogane caught sight of the wrappings falling away.

It was not the recognition of a detached limb that caused Kurogane's pause, but of the design engraved there. Just one glimpse of that snaking tattoo and Kurogane's eyes froze, becoming the widest they had all night. Many years had passed since he'd let himself even think of that burning night, but he had never forgotten for a moment. How his mother had been murdered and his father killed. How everything he'd ever cared for had been destroyed. And how he'd been unable to do anything to stop it.

He could see everything with that arm, and yet say nothing to its presence there, the words having been stunned right out of him.

"Ah, so you do recognize this. Excellent. That will save me some explanations, won't it?" The doctor chuckled again, as though he'd made some kind of joke, and returned to fussing with his preparations. This was bound to be a long and tedious process, and the clock was already ticking, but he'd rather not make any mistakes that would end up making it take even longer.

Despite his words, even as he worked he started in on explanations anyway. Perhaps he just wanted to hear himself speak, given that his patient was either prone to be completely silent or roar, with nothing in between. "Now that you've gone and lost your arm, though in a far more foolish and less worthwhile manner than the previous owner of this one, well. Might as well put it to good use?"

There was a soft clink of metal as he reached over to the instrument tray, selecting a scalpel and leaning in closer to his patient. "So you're going to have to hold still for a while, so I can work on attaching this. Unfortunately, there's no time or resources for a good anesthesiologist - so hard to find good help these days, you know? - so you'll just have to bear it. You can handle a little pain, can't you?" And without waiting for an answer, he set to work exposing the flesh where Kurogane's arm had been, in preparation for the attachment.

It was not until the scalpel actually pierced him that Kurogane was able to snap back from the shock of seeing his father's arm. The warning to stay still went ignored, and he jerked on reflex. He could take pain, yes, when he had to, but that didn't mean he would just because someone else expected he could.

But taking pain was the least of Kurogane's concerns then. Things had just stopped making sense. That arm... his father's arm had been eaten! Right before Kurogane's eyes years ago! It couldn't be there. He couldn't have it! Because if he did, it meant Fei Wong Reed had interfered far more than even Sakura had explained. It meant things could have been even more screwed up than they were made to be. It meant... Dammit, Kurogane couldn't even think of how much meaning there could be if the arm was truly from his father!

The doctor tsk'ed softly at the motion and drew back slightly, holding the scalpel poised for a moment. There wasn't too much range of motion allowed to the patient with the way he was secured to the table, but still, with a delicate operation like this one - he couldn't be allowed to twitch so much. "Now, now. None of that, Kuro-pon," he chided, with a completely fabricated air of disappointment. "I'd thought a big strong ninja like you could handle a little cut. Apparently I was wrong."

He pursed his lips a little, as though trying to make a decision, though there was distinct amusement visible in his eyes. "Well, if you're going to continue to cause a fuss, I suppose I could give you a paralytic, but - dear me, that would be such a waste of time, wouldn't it? Of course, having to put you on a ventilator would at least spare me your bellowing."

The doctor chuckled again and set back to work despite his rambling, with one hand holding Kurogane's shoulder in place with a firm grip as he quickly and carefully prepared the man's arm for the reattachment despite any more twitches that might come.

"Shut up!" Kurogane roared, turning his rage towards the doctor, "Like hell you're doing anything to me!"

Kurogane was too proud, too stubborn, and too "good at taking pain" to let the doctor do as he pleased. If getting more cuts to his already injured shoulder mean keeping Dr. Kyle from continuing, he'd gladly take them. He continued to jerk even under the pressing of the doctor's hand. That was all the control he had for the moment, either over the experiment or over what he'd discovered.

"Oh, come now. This is just being silly and you know it." If Kurogane wanted to make the cuts more ragged, to injure himself even more? Well, that was no matter. But the doctor's plans involved some rather delicate surgery that simply couldn't be performed if the patient refused to hold still. "If you'd really like," he continued, with a touch of acid entering his tone, "I could just discard this entirely. I'm sure I can find a monster here somewhere willing to devour it, as should have happened."

He sniffed lightly and set the scalpel back down with a soft metallic click, but instead of moving on to the next step in the operation picked up a syringe that he'd rather hoped not to use. "Though I suppose I shouldn't give you any options. I'd not want you to think that any of this is by your choice, after all." The doctor gave a short laugh at that, seeming to find it somehow amusing, then carefully jabbed the syringe into Kurogane's shoulder, just above the exposed flesh.

"You really are such an ill-behaved puppy, Kuro-wan. Tsk. Someone does rather need to housebreak you," the doctor observed, keeping a critical eye on the syringe as he slowly injected the contents. The solution burned at first, painfully so, but it slowly turned to a dull heaviness and growing weakness in the muscles - though no cessation of pain. "There now. This should keep you from flailing quite so much. Though, of course, if I misjudged the dosage and it affects your breathing, or stops your heart...well, be certain to let me know, will you?"

Now he'd lost precious moments that could have been spent working. This would never do. The doctor discarded the empty syringe and set back to work again, carefully positioning the arm into place so he could begin attaching it.

Discard it? No, he wouldn't go through the trouble, not when it must have taken some work to get his father's arm in the first place. Then again, if it was actually a fake, only made to look like the image from his past, Kurogane had no reason to care if the arm was discarded or not. No matter how he looked at things, it was an arm. Not his father, who was gone. Kurogane couldn't let the possibility of losing what amounted to a heap of flesh dictate him. Even... if it really had belonged his father.

"Go ahead if you want. See if I care," he hissed, pausing in his thrashing as the doctor had stopped his work.

The stinging in his shoulder eased once he stopped, but it was still there fresh with the feel of blood - reminder of what Dr. Kyle was attempting. Kurogane had already put the pieces together, just as the doctor was attempting to do, with what this experiment entailed. His missing arm, and his father's own or at least a replica of it... he didn't understand how it was possible, but he knew that somehow, Dr. Kyle was trying to make the arm Kurogane's own. Like he would let that or anything else happen!

At the glint of the syringe though, Kurogane realized just what his resistance had gotten him. No! He couldn't be sedated now! If he was, then he wouldn't be able to resist even slightly! But by then it was too late. He couldn't stop the needle from sliding in, or the drugs from flooding into his system. Hissing at the initial pain it caused, Kurogane made sure to get out a "Bastard..." for Kyle before the drugs took too much of an effect on him.

Was that really the best insult he could manage? Unimpressive, really. But then, the doctor realized he shouldn't expect something profound from this particular subject. "It really is utterly futile to attempt to struggle," he observed, in a conversational tone, as he turned to the instrument tray again, rattling the contents about before coming back with what he needed. "Of course, now you can't, but - that's just because you clearly haven't learned yet. No matter how strong you think you are, it's impossible for you to win."

He chuckled softly again and set to work, first pinning the bone into place. It had to be quite painful indeed, with the metal driving into exposed bone, but given the strength of the drug the man had been given...well, there would be little Kurogane could do about it but wait.

Not that the doctor seemed overly concerned about his patient's comfort in the situation, of course; he idly began whistling through his teeth as he worked, apparently fascinated by the whole thing. It was all just a test of a hypothesis for him, like playing with living tinkertoys.

Wasting words was something Kurogane never did. He didn't care for what Dr. Kyle thought of it either.

Now with the drug in him, speaking had been removed as an option for the Ninja, and struggling even slightly had become an impossibility. All he could do was lie there, unmoving, and take the doctor's experiment in silence.

It was pathetic to think that he'd allowed himself into this position, that he'd even given them the opportunity to take him in the first place! But that was behind him and wouldn't change now. He'd been taken, he was stuck here, and he had to think of how to get out of it before he let anything else happen.

The only positive result of the whole thing was that the drugs given him made it easier to hold back what expression of pain might have slipped by. They did not, however, do anything to ease the pain, and Kurogane swore up a storm while the experiment continued.

The doctor continued on for some time like that, the silence in the room broken only by his idle whistling and clinks of metal as he dropped used instruments onto the tray and picked up another. It was fiddly business, this, delicate and difficult and something even he needed to concentrate on at certain points.

Still, though, perhaps the silence started to get to even him, as he suddenly spoke up, words shattering the stillness within the room. "I do have to wonder, though, how serious you were earlier." He paused for a moment, tongue sticking out of his mouth a little as he focused on some particularly delicate stitching, then continued, "When you suggested that I could just...throw this out. Perhaps you were just being contrary. Playing the stubborn, stoic ninja. Or is it possible that maybe you've finally realized it? Realized that you're not worthy of it. Nowhere near as strong as your father was, and considering that he still managed to get himself killed and torn limb from limb...well."

He fell silent again then as though considering his own words, then turned away briefly to retrieve something from the tray before he set back to work again. A peculiar, nose-stinging chemical smell arose as he very carefully dispensed drops of fluid from a small syringe, sealing delicate tissues together. For a second he turned his head, screwing up his eyes as though trying to not sneeze, then he just sighed and kept going. "Sorry. This stuff just gets to me sometimes. But it's much faster healing, really. You'll appreciate it later. If you're capable of such things, at least."

Silence for that moment had been fine. Kurogane had decided that, despite his inability, the lack of speaking was better. No more seething under this madman's taunting or responses that got him absolutely nowhere. He'd known it wouldn't last, but he would have liked it to last a bit longer. The doctor's talking only grated on his nerves to where even the pain was a better focus.

The words fell on what seemed like deaf ears, but Kurogane took every one of them in carefully. He still didn't know and couldn't be sure of the arm being his father's, but Dr. Kyle was proving to at least know the history behind things. That made his intentions behind saying such things clear at least. Hearing it, however, forced Kurogane into thinking on things he'd rather let lie.

His father had been a great man and a great warrior. He'd defended Suwa for years and had kept the people safe and happy. That he had died defending what he cared about most of all was an honor.

Kurogane knew that more than anyone, and knew even better that he had yet to reach that kind of strength. If his travels had not proved it before now, then his current position was all the proof needed for the ninja to know that. Too much had happened here, things that even Kurogane could admit he'd been unable to keep from happening, but it was because of them that he knew and understood just how weak he was. He knew it and had somehow come to accept it somewhat.

But weak though he may have been, he would not allow himself or his father to be insulted.

"I'm not..." he forced out, fighting the drugs to make his mouth obey him. I took him a while more before he managed a small, but clearly defiant grin, "... my father." And with that retort, Kurogane caught a whiff of the fluid being used and his nose reflexively scrunched at it.

"Oh, of course you're not," the doctor agreed with false cheer, absently shaking a stray drop of the fluid from his glove as he set the syringe back down on the tray again. "Do you think your father would have been weak enough to be trapped here? Or remain once he had been?" He gave a faint snort of amusement at that and shook his head.

To be honest, he was both rather amused and pleased that Kurogane was fighting so hard to speak. It was like a little caged beast, scrabbling against the bars as though he could somehow break through them: even if he did speak, did force that rather weak smile, it didn't change the situation at all.

Not to mention it gave him something else to distract himself from the pure tedium of the operation. The theory was interesting, yes, with the use of experimental materials, and to see the long-term results of it. But actually piecing together the remnants of Kurogane's arm with the replacement, well.

"At least you'll have a little reminder of him, eventually. Once I'm finished here, you can pretend to some of his strength and ability." He gave a partial shrug, absently wiping his forehead on the back of his sleeve as he considered the next step. "If you're worthy of it, at least. If your body doesn't reject it."

No. His father wouldn't have gotten himself captured - yet another thing Kurogane was certain he knew - but his father also wouldn't have gotten sent away from his world in the first place either. This wasn't a position his father would have ever been in, and that made the comparison one that held absolutely no weight for Kurogane then.

As he'd just said, Kurogane was not his father, and he wouldn't ever be his father.

He sneered despite the scent (or maybe because of it), choosing now to allow the doctor any words this time. Maybe he couldn't stop what was being done to him, but he'd deal with it, whatever it was, in his own way. Not because that's what his father would have done, but because it was what was Kurogane would do.

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