damned_institute | Nightshift 40: Greenhouse Yard

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Nightshift 40: Greenhouse Yard

[from here]

Itachi made it out to the yard without being accosted by any vengeance-obsessed brothers, so he could probably continue with his plans without further disruption. Additionally, there didn't seem to be any monsters or other obstacles in this area, either. With the exception of that minor occurrence, the night was proceeding entirely too smoothly. He had been correct in assuming he could get much further on his own.

And yet, something he could not admit to made him hesitate halfway across the yard. He turned, glancing back to the doorway. He could not deny that some part of him almost wished Sasuke would follow him, because he still wanted to see exactly what the boy could do when not drugged. That was unacceptable, however; he could not afford a fight that would waste his time, and he could definitely not afford a fight that exceeded his expectations. Not here, not until they destroyed the Institute and regained their abilities, not until whatever had been done to Sasuke's eyes could be reversed. There was no reason for him to be waiting here, in the eerie stillness of the night, staring at that door. This was not how he wanted to see his brother, and in the unlikely event that Sasuke was significantly stronger than he believed, this was not how he wanted to lose his life. Every logical consideration pointed to the fact that he should be leaving, now.

. . . So why was he still standing here?

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[[one vengeance-obsessed brother coming up, from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/615532.html?thread=51125868#t51125868)]]

The door slammed open and Sasuke burst in expecting to have to chase Itachi wherever he was headed, Sharingan blazing to life to catch his trail -- but, unexpectedly, there he was. Itachi, without a doubt, simply standing there and finally close enough to hear him and see him and fight him.

Aidou and Wolfram were long forgotten. Sasuke let the door slam shut behind him and slowed his movements to a cold, determined stalk.

"Itachi," voice almost more growl than speech. "You won't get away this time."

And without further preamble, Sasuke swung his sword into an offensive hold, pinpointed Itachi's position, and let the Sharingan fade out as he charged -- this time, unlike their first encounter in the Institute, with all his natural speed and agility fully intact.

This is why he should have just left. He should have known his luck would turn out this way, because nothing had gone perfectly right since he had found himself in this place. Of course Sasuke would be there tonight, of course he would see him, of course he would follow him. It would be of no consequence if Sasuke's performance approximated that of the earlier night, however. Some part of him hoped it wouldn't, some part wanted to match Sasuke evenly to whatever end may come. But he could not afford to consider that option, because he would not die like this, and neither would Sasuke if Itachi had any say in the matter.

There was no thought in his mind of running at this point, not in the face of an actual confrontation. The idea did not even occur to him, as ridiculous as it was. Even if he could not afford this fight right now, he would never run from Sasuke. So he had no plan to get away, not until Sasuke was on the ground and could not follow him.

Itachi saw the charge coming before Sasuke even moved, not because he could read his chakra, but because he simply knew his brother. Sasuke was not using Sharingan entirely yet, which could only be a good thing as it would be difficult to dodge a Sharingan-aided attack with his vision as poor as it was. Itachi would have to use that fact, and Sasuke's blindness, to his advantage by moving in a way that was not entirely expected.

Sasuke would probably expect him to sidestep, as he usually moved in the most economical manner, and now that his brother was not drugged he might be clever enough to account for that. Itachi briefly considered dodging upward, but with the constraints on his abilities that might carry more risk than it ordinarily would. He was slowly learning to adapt to the new limitations, to consider those factors before taking an action he would normally be accustomed to. And so, for now, he dodged the strike by dropping down and to the side, sweeping outward with his leg in an attempt to trip Sasuke. The danger with this position, naturally, was that if Sasuke read his intent too quickly he would be vulnerable. But Sasuke did not know he was armed, and so he kept the kunai ready in a defensive position, prepared for a possible downward strike.

There wasn't even a response -- not even the usual dismissal that Sasuke had grown to expect. Had he finally stopped so much as registering as anything of interest to Itachi? Then again, the state that Sasuke had been in the few times he'd encountered Itachi in the Institute had hardly been conducive to making it clear just how much of a threat he was.

That would change.

Without the intermediary of drugs interrupting his ability to sense the environment, Sasuke heard the faint swish of cloth as he neared -- more than that, he'd expected Itachi to dodge in some way. The question was precisely how he was going to move.

Knowing Itachi's normal succinct fighting style, he'd doubtless expected Sasuke to attempt a straight charge and simply stepped aside; that simply meant that Sasuke needed to do something unexpected at the last possible moment, with the assumption that Itachi would shift aside and perhaps counterattack. Either sidestep himself and then attack, try to get behind Itachi, or switch lines of attack.

Without being in close enough contact to begin with, there was no precise way to tell how Itachi had moved. In his place, though, Sasuke could imagine the tactics he himself might have used -- so it was that he'd slowed his momentum by the time he'd reached Itachi, centre of gravity shifting back, partially to accommodate the possibility of a rapid change in direction and partially to handle the the chance of a counter.

The counter happened before Sasuke could step away. Itachi's leg did indeed catch against Sasuke's ankle, but instead of tumbling with the loss of balance Sasuke managed to correct enough to catch himself on his right palm (shock of impact travelling up his arm, ignored).

And a knee that he deliberately brought down as quickly as possible, trapping Itachi's leg under his shin as he swung his left leg out for a point of leverage and twisted to drive the sword towards Itachi's back.

Actually, he could use this to his advantage, if he could just keep the fight in such close quarters.

That had backfired. He had underestimated Sasuke after all, which in some ways was rather satisfying, but at this point in time the knowledge was not improving Itachi's mood. Not only had Sasuke not charged as blindly as he usually did (speaking of course in the figurative sense), but he had immediately assessed Itachi's position and used it to his advantage. This could perhaps be an interesting fight after all. But Itachi shouldn't be entertaining any such thoughts, because whatever flicker of detached pride he felt at Sasuke's performance so far paled in comparison to the need to win. There was a time to lose, and this was not it. And Itachi was strong enough to decide when he would win or lose.

Itachi ignored the part of him that was fascinated with being so close to his own brother for only the second time in three years. The third time in eight years. He had still not quite gotten used to the sight of Sasuke being nearly as tall as him, the lines of his face starting to harden into those of an adult, but while that might be regrettable on some level it ranked far lower than other priorities. For example, the priority of focusing so that he could extricate himself from this situation without grievously wounding Sasuke.

This would be the proper time to make use of the fact that Sasuke could not know he was armed. He would surely assume that Itachi had not wasted a week in the Institute without arming himself somehow, but he did not know with what. Neither did he know that Itachi's kunai was already being held in a guarding position before Sasuke struck, so he could not know that it would just take a quick movement for Itachi to reach behind and parry the attack. On the other hand, the angle was not conducive to a perfect block, and the range was entirely too short by the time Itachi realized what Sasuke was doing. If it were not for his reflexes, Itachi might have been skewered, but as it was he managed to deflect the sword so that it simply grazed his side.

Another thing Sasuke did not know was that Itachi had a second weapon. Ignoring the brief flash of pain -- it was only a shallow cut, after all -- he slipped the utility knife out of his pocket, flicked the blade out, and drove it into Sasuke's nearby thigh. It would not cause much damage, especially in that location, but it provided the distraction needed for Itachi to free his leg and open up his position. He used the single second he had to shove at the sword with the kunai, slipping his leg out from under Sasuke's and sliding backward several feet into a crouch.

Sasuke had indeed expected Itachi to have managed to arm himself by now, and he'd certainly expected to learn that firsthand during this spar; so it was that the pain of a blade sinking into his thigh wasn't too much of a surprise. Despite that there was no way to control the instinctive recoil following a blow, not when Sasuke couldn't see to predict the next strike -- he flinched back into a crouch, and in that moment Itachi escaped.

Loudly, though, definitely clearly enough that Sasuke could pinpoint the direction without problem. Sasuke let the Sharingan swirl into his eyes again, tracing the gleam of Itachi's chakra to where it halted and remained low to the ground.

Despite the injury, the initial attack had succeeded where it was most important: Sasuke had been able to sound out how Itachi was armed, between the thin blade in his leg and the distinct clink of metal that had deflected his sword. Both short weapons, and one definitely too flimsy to be a real threat unless Itachi got a clear shot at Sasuke's throat. That only confirmed what Sasuke had expected; this needed to be a close-range fight for as long as possible. He needed to close the distance, but there was no way a simplistic charge like that would work again.

He'd need something more complex, and fast.

Checking again that Itachi was still in the same place, Sasuke let the Sharingan fade at the same time as he pushed off the ground and out of his own crouch, whipping across the ground with his sword held to the side, pointed straight at Itachi: the straight blade made the actual length of the weapon difficult to detect in the best of lights, and unless situations had changed a great deal since Sasuke had been blinded, the lighting was far from ideal at night.

Before he was fully in range, Sasuke moved as if to attack -- thrust the sword forward at Itachi's head, aiming to force him to attempt to block, and then abruptly dropped and swung into a strike for Itachi's lower legs instead.

Itachi caught a flicker of Sharingan in Sasuke's eyes and prepared himself for a more serious onslaught, but the red glistening in the darkness was gone as quickly as it came. So Sasuke was merely confirming Itachi's position. And now. . . the attack. Itachi ignored the stab of disappointment he felt at another straight attack, moving to block the strike with a timing calculated to account for his impaired sight.

Then, the first true surprise of the battle occurred. It had not been a straight attack after all; Sasuke had used some foresight, and Itachi had underestimated him. Underestimated Sasuke and overestimated his own eyesight, once again. If he were at his full mental capacity, he should have a perfectly accurate appreciation of his own limitations. But no, he had assumed he'd be able to catch a change in the trajectory of the sword before it was too late. He had measured his newly lowered strength against the creatures of the Institute, but Sasuke was on a different level. Even if he was not as strong yet as Itachi hoped he would become, he was certainly much faster than a monstrous nurse.

Mentally cursing, Itachi tried to dodge back from the low strike -- too slow. When had he become so slow in comparison to Sasuke? When had he not been able to read his movements in advance? Penance came in the form of steel biting into his right leg. He'd managed to slide back far enough that he wouldn't lose a limb, but the tip of the blade still sliced deep into the outer side of his calf and raked across his shin before swinging wide.

This was unacceptable. Sasuke was more of a challenge than he had suspected, and if he kept underestimating his brother he was going to get killed. Something that could not and would not occur. He would have to take this seriously, and provide a decent offense. Itachi began to consider his options even as his leg crumpled under him and he caught himself on his hands in another defensive crouch. The sword would have to be neutralized, that much was certain, but that could not be effected quite yet. Not when Sasuke was too far away and the range of Itachi's weapons too short.

Sasuke was off balance currently, his momentum still carrying him forward while the sword swung back. Itachi could make use of this to get closer, and to strike preemptively in the process. With this in mind, he lunged forward suddenly. Soon the backswing of the blade would turn into a forward stroke, but for now there was just enough time to grab the back of Sasuke's head and force him face-first into Itachi's uninjured knee. It was not the kind of move Itachi would normally use, not distant enough and a little too vicious, but Sasuke would not be expecting it and that was all that mattered now.

Even if it hadn't connected as thoroughly as Sasuke might have liked, the strike was still successful in that it brought Sasuke in to the range he wanted, and he definitely felt at least some of the blow connect. There was the brief but familiar resistance of flesh against blade, and then the distinct sound of Itachi's knee hitting the ground. If Sasuke could just take advantage of what had to be a moment of pain, he could surprise --

But Itachi was the one who took the surprise instead. Sasuke hadn't expected to feel something as primitive as a grab in his hair, and certainly not after he knew he'd wounded Itachi (but of course Itachi would fight through the pain with barely an indication that it had happened). Despite an instinctive attempt to recoil, his forward momentum was ultimately too much: Sasuke's face smashed into Itachi's knee hard enough that he wasn't sure his nose hadn't broken, stars exploding across the blackness that was normally Sasuke's vision these days.

That was hardly the worst of it, though: his ears were ringing. While that might not have been much of a deal in a normal situation, in Landel's Sasuke couldn't afford to lose even a minute amount of control over his hearing; if Itachi chose to move away now Sasuke would have absolutely no way to track his movements. And to make matters worse, Sasuke registered belatedly that his head was spinning -- without a visual point of reference he barely realised how bad his balance was for a moment.

Even standing firmly might be difficult at this point. That left precious few options; namely, staying low to the ground and not giving Itachi the chance to break physical contact.

With that idea in mind (and thoroughly ignoring the pain), Sasuke kept right on running: tore his head out of Itachi's grip and drove forward into a headbutt with as much force as he could muster.

It lacked finesse, to be sure, but that was hardly first on Sasuke's list of concerns in a fight.

Breath rushed out of Itachi's body, his eyes wide with surprise as he fell back, injured leg folded under him at a painful angle. He hadn't expected Sasuke to do something so impulsive and crude, especially not after his satisfactory performance so far. He could not be positive, but it was possible Sasuke was feeling desperate. Itachi hadn't believed his strikes so far had been damaging enough to drive Sasuke into a corner, though his brother had always allowed anger to rule his actions. Itachi could hardly complain, as he had intentionally fostered that anger himself in order to protect both of them, but he couldn't help wishing Sasuke would channel it in a more controlled manner. Loss of control over one's emotions was the greatest weakness one could have, and Sasuke would never have the fortitude to kill him if he let his strength unravel for such a stupid reason. Itachi knew firsthand how vital it was to harden oneself to be able to do such a thing.

Still, if Sasuke had lost control now, Itachi could use that to his own gain. He somehow didn't believe desperation lay behind Sasuke's actions, however; they were far too deliberate. It would be too much of a gamble to risk underestimating him again. He would simply have to make the best of this new position. He was more vulnerable than ever, Sasuke was close enough to read his movements without wasting use of the Sharingan, and the sword was still too far back for Itachi to completely neutralize it. There was also the factor that a blow to Itachi's solar plexus had paralyzed him for a moment, because no matter how much one mastered one's reactions to pain, a strike there would serve as a temporary incapacitation. It was biologically inevitable. But Itachi had never let forces such as biological constraints stop him.

Sasuke had broken his grip and ducked his head under Itachi's hands, meaning the weapons Itachi still clung to were hovering over Sasuke's back. A mistake -- Sasuke was just as vulnerable as him, now. Perhaps he really hadn't been thinking. Lightning fast, awareness of that sword sharpened by the shock of pain and the distant possibility of defeat, Itachi brought the kunai down to rip into the muscles that joined the back of Sasuke's shoulder to his torso. He had been hoping not to inflict any long-lasting damage on his brother, but if he did not take this challenge seriously he could very well meet his death tonight. Besides, wounds healed more quickly than usual in the Institute.

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/615532.html?view=51405420#t51405420)]

There were only two patients in the greenhouse yard, but they were sword-fighting--and it didn't look like a practice match, even to Meche's untrained eyes. Suddenly she realized how much safer they'd been in the more crowded main hallway. Kira at least was armed, but she wasn't sure he could fight off two attackers if they decided to turn on the intruders. As for her own weapons, the best she could probably do would be to cut their hair.

She ran ahead to try the greenhouse door. No dice. "It's locked," she hissed back to Kira as loudly as she dared. "How do you want to handle it?" She could probably break it open if she had to, but not quickly and not quietly. Hopefully Mr. Death God had a better plan.

Kira stepped into the greenhouse yard and watched the two swordfighters critically. Meche rushed to the doors of the Greenhouse, but apparently nobody had gotten in there yet. they were going to break the door open on their own. He didn't respond just yet, focused on the battle that was going on not far away. If it was a patient versus one of the brainwashed patients, then they should intervene ... but no, even when he focused to try and see if there was anything different, nothing obvious came up. The fight didn't seem particularly one-sided, either.

And they had their orders. Kira watched the fight a moment longer before approaching the greenhouse door himself to test its strength for himself. If he could still use his kidou ...

"We'll have to break it." The glass was likely to shatter, but if they were careful they could avoid being cut. He shifted his grip on the sword so the hilt was forward and eyed the lock. Would it be better to break the glass around it? "Stand back - I don't know how strong this lock is."

Meche wasn't a particularly big believer in the idea of standing back and letting a guy do all the heavy lifting. If you were going to be on the team, she felt, you'd better be contributing to it somehow. Right now, though, she figured the most important contribution she could make to the team would be not doing anything stupid.

Manny was the one who had to turn everything into a competition, she thought--for her, coming back in one piece with what they'd been send to find would be plenty of heroism for one night. Meche moved quickly back to stand well behind Kira, giving him room for whatever he was about to do next.

Kira tried the door one more time before stepping back again and bringing the hilt of the sword down hard where the lock and handle were. The crash reverberated up his arm, the door jerking with the effort of it. Another few hits - it couldn't take that long before the lock would give way, or the glass would shatter and allow him to reach through and get the door from the other side.

Finally, he pulled the sword away and hit the door with his shoulder, building up as much force behind it as he could muster. The door shuddered and cracked - but it gave way, as well, and Kira nearly fell straight into the greenhouse. The humidity hit him suddenly, and he moved back out of the doorway, still holding onto his sword.

Tonight, their chances of getting away unscathed couldn't be as good as the last time.

Kira glanced over at Meche, to check and see if anything had hit her, but she seemed fine. Slowly, his sword at the ready, he stepped beyond the door into the heat that seemed almost ... oppressive.

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/615532.html?thread=51416940#t51416940)]

Outside there looked to be the beginning of another fight, and the Claymore rolled her eyes, hoping that Tsubaki would ignore this as well. She had her eyes set on the eastern wall, which didn't look all that impossible to tackle, even with her reduced human strength and agility. "I take it you'll help to boost me up, and I'll pull you from above, correct?" she asked Tsubaki as they approached the wall, though it seemed more of a statement than a question.

When one was used to the outdoors, simple moonlight--even the kind cast by a strange, foreign moon--could illuminate a lot, and that made the confrontation happening in the greenhouse yard that much more noticeable.

Tsubaki came to a halt by the door, registering the clash of metal on metal. Weapons. Two dark-haired figures with weapons this time, both seemingly focussed on their fight, if not acting with the same amount of aggression. What was happening? What this how it really was each night? She’d seen more fights in this one night than she had her whole stay. It was one thing to read about the sorts of attacks one could expect at night here, but another to witness the reality.

Strange surroundings, strange people, strange enemies… had Landel’s been a battleground where she knew its features and its members, she would’ve had a clearer direction to take, but it wasn’t and she didn’t. She didn’t know who they were, or why they were fighting, too, or if brainwashing was involved… But neither gave off the air of backing down, like the other two in the hallway she and Ophelia had passed through. That was the important part, what swayed a decision to get involved or not.

However incredible the circumstances, interfering in other’s battles without due reason could be disrespectful. Unnecessary.

She wanted to help the people she came across, but considering this was the second fight that might not even have anything to do with the hospital… Tsubaki looked the other way, turning her face away for a moment. Ophelia’s words sat wrong with her. She couldn’t call the woman callous, though. Pressing her lips together in a quick, hard line that vanished as quickly as it had come on, the girl looked back, a more pronounced firmness to her tone.

“All right, let’s do it.”

A boost probably wasn’t needed on her part, but it was on Ophelia’s, and so Tsubaki moved towards the wall without looking back, kneeling with her hands cupped in a makeshift step.

Ophelia was fairly confident that a boost wasn't needed hucherself, but she had been burned too many times during her time in the institute by underestimating the new limits on her abilities to risk another such incident. Better to lose a little bit of face by asking for help than losing a lot of face by falling flat on top it.

Thankfully, her assumption had been right, and the boost was barely necessary. As Tsubaki helped to push her up, Ophelia jumped and grabbed onto the top of the wall. She then pulled herself up with a surprising amount of satisfaction and reached out a hand for Tsubaki just in case she needed it.

Keeping her attention on the fight only so much as to ready herself to protect their position, Tsubaki linked her fingers tightly under Ophelia’s foot, lifting her as high as she needed. Although not quite as tall as Tsubaki herself, Ophelia was a full grown woman with muscle--managing her weight wouldn’t be an easy task for everyone. When Ophelia’s weight left Tsubaki entirely, though, she knew the woman had found the lip.

Then it was her turn.

Exposing herself even for a short time put her at risk, and Tsubaki was ready to climb the moment Ophelia had turned around. Foot and hand holds revealed themselves to her just like they had the last time she’d scaled the wall; she reached up with her right foot, found a position, then in the same movement jumped further up with her left, making it a simple thing to grab Ophelia’s hand and swing herself up with her momentum. “Thank you,“ she said automatically. Her boots made the task less difficult than slippers, that was for sure.

The wall was cold under her hands when she crouched, one knee drawn up under her. Before jumping down to the rocky ground on the other side, she took one last look at the greenhouse yard, then pitched herself forward to let the darkness swallow her.

_{[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/613253.html?thread=51482245#t51482245)]}

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/615532.html?thread=51508844#t51508844)]

Well, now at least they were outside. There was a fight going on, between two patients again--at least Ken assumed they were two patients, though really he should know better--but it wasn't any of his business.

A week earlier and he might have tried to step in. He just didn't care anymore.

Time to go up and over the wall. He assumed Crawford wouldn't need any help up, even if he did Ken wasn't likely to want to give it. He scaled the wall quickly enough, pausing for a moment before jumping down to the other side.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/610351.html)]

[Flying! (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/610351.html?thread=51543855#t51543855) No thanks to his claw.]

Ken hit the ground like a ton of bricks, flat on his back--his head whacked the earth last, stunning him. He could feel his awareness slipping--he knew that he should struggle to keep conscious, but he was too dazed to really care.

Ow.

For a long moment there was no sign the mimic had chosen to pursue, even though its prey was incapacitated. And then there came the sound of something hitting the ground nearby, and after another pause, soft footfalls approaching with careful deliberation.

"You make it far too easy," the mimic observed, crouching beside Ken and resting a hand lightly on the man's injured shoulder. "Not very fun at all." Its words came out in an almost mocking chuckle, smug and self-satisfied.

The light touch suddenly turned to a tight grip for a moment, squeezing the reopened wound as the creature leaned in again. Too-sharp teeth closed on the soft flesh of the man's throat, the tips dimpling skin but not quite piercing for an agonizingly long instant before they finally broke through.

It was not by much, though, just enough that blood beaded on the surface; whereupon the mimic latched on, sucking at the wound to draw more forth, the tips of its fangs lightly grazing against Ken's skin as it did. Let him feel that, as he drifted into unconsciousness once more, and remember what could have happened.

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Nightshift 40: Greenhouse Yard

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