(3rd Person - Hokage's Office)
Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Sandaime Hokage, was annoyed. An ANBU report sat on his desk, detailing the complete destruction of a Genin Corps training room and the "death" of a chunin instructor. He sighed, tapping the ash from his pipe. Danzō was getting sloppy.
He had seen the reports. He knew Chunin Ito had been looking into the files of washed-out genin. The man was loyal and competent; of course he would grow suspicious of the pattern of sabotage. Sarutobi had expected Danzō's men to intercept Ito, perhaps intimidate him or simply declare the information classified. A standard silencing protocol.
But this... putting a loyal Konoha chunin into a near-death state was brutish. Then planting the mans body as the one the students killed was in his opinion absurdly stupid. All it would take is a little bit of digging and anyone could figure out Ito was dead a weak before hand. But the military police wasn't assigned to the case. Not even the Hokages Anbu. It was filed away by root. It was inefficient. It drew unnecessary attention. It seemed Danzō's patience was wearing thin. As for the two genin Danzō had so clearly manipulated... Sarutobi felt a sliver of pity, but nothing more. They were pieces on the board, and Danzō had just moved his pawns. It was a predictable, if heavy-handed, play.
The Sandaime pushed the report aside. The internal politics of the village were a constant, draining battle. For now, he would let Danzō have his new recruits. The old warhawk's belief that he was operating in the shadows was, in itself, a weapon Sarutobi could use later.
(1st Person - Machi's POV)
The room they took me to was barely lit by a single, flickering bulb. I sat on a cold stone bench, alone, trying to process what had just happened. Judai was gone. Arrested for a murder he didn't commit. Theirs no way that guy died right? He was strong, but yet we were arrested before we could explain. And I... I had just made a deal with the devil to save him.
The masked ANBU who had offered me the "alternative" led me down a series of dark, winding tunnels. The air grew colder, staler. I lost all sense of direction, all sense of time. Finally, we arrived at a heavy iron door. He opened it and shoved me inside.
I didn't know how long I sat there. It could have been minutes or hours. The silence was absolute, broken only by the frantic beating of my own heart.
Finally, the door creaked open. A boy, maybe a few years older than me, with dull gray hair and completely dead eyes stood there. "Exit the room and follow," was all he said, his voice a flat monotone.
I followed him down another series of corridors until we came to a room that looked like a shower, tiled from floor to ceiling.
"Remove all of your clothing and place it on the table," he said, pointing to a steel table against the wall.
My temper flared. "I am not getting naked in front of you, you Crow-Eyed Pervert!" I snarled.
The gray-haired boy didn't even blink. "Failure to comply will result in the immediate termination of the offer made to you. The boy, Judai, will be executed for the murder of Chunin Ito. Remove all of your clothing and place it on the table."
His words hit me like a physical blow. The fight drained out of me, replaced by a cold, numb dread. My hands shaking, I slowly stripped off my clothes, piece by piece, until I stood there in nothing but my panties and a thin camisole.
"All of it, " he commanded, staring blankly at me. But I could see the challenge in them.
He waited in the hallway, his posture unchanging, his silence more unnerving than any threat. I could feel his chakra, if I thought our last instructor was strong, this one felt like a step above. Then after a tense moment that felt like I was being crushed, I cracked. I started to take what felt like my last bit of humanity off. I refused to look at him, staring at a crack in the tile as if my life depended on it.
"Wash yourself," he commanded, gesturing to the showers. "Then return to this spot."
The water was tepid, the pressure weak. I washed mechanically, my mind a blank slate. When I returned, my old clothes were gone. The older teen handed me a towel, a new grey uniform and sandals.
"You will be taken to your sleeping quarters now," he said, his voice the same infuriating monotone.
He led me to a small, windowless cell. It was maybe ten feet by six, with nothing but a thin sleeping mat on the floor and a toilet in the corner. He ushered me inside, and the door was bolted from the outside.
I sank onto the mat, the rough fabric scratching my skin. This was my new reality. A cage. But if this cage was the price for Judai's life, then I would endure it.
I don't know how long I slept. It felt like I had only just closed my eyes when the bolt from the creaky door made me aware the door was open again. The gray-haired boy stood there.
"Follow."
Before I could speak a word, the older boy said, "Talking outside of relaying mission information is prohibited."
He led me to a large, open training area, still underground. "This is where you shall train," he said. "In Root, there is only the mission. Your mission right now is to obey. For your training, I have been given the name 'Shin'. You will wait here."
He left me standing in the middle of the cavernous room. I waited. And waited. My mind raced. Was this another test? Were they just going to leave me here to see if I would break?
After what felt like an eternity, another door opened. Two masked figures escorted someone into the room, shoving him forward before retreating back into the shadows. The figure stumbled, catching himself before he fell. He was wearing the same plain, gray jumpsuit as me. He looked up, and my breath caught in my throat.
It was Judai.
His face was pale, his eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and dawning horror as he saw me.
"Machi?" he whispered.
"Judai? What are you doing here? I thought..."
Shin reappeared as if from nowhere, standing between us. "There is no talking in training. You will spar with each other."
We both stared at him, then at each other. "What?" I breathed.
"When you spar here," Shin said, his voice as dead as his eyes, "you are doing your best to deal damage to your opponent. Do you understand?"
"No! I'm not going to fight him!" I yelled.
Shin turned his head to look at me, a flicker of something almost like amusement in his eyes. "Refusal to train is a failure to obey. Failure has consequences. For both of you."
He didn't have to say anything more. The threat was clear. If I didn't fight, they would kill Judai. If Judai didn't fight, they would kill me.
Judai looked at me, his blue eyes filled with a terrible understanding. He slowly raised his fists into a ready stance. I grit my teeth, my heart feeling like it was being squeezed in a vise, and did the same.
"Begin," Shin commanded.
Judai charged. He came at me full force, just like Shin had ordered. I brought my arms up to block, and his fist slammed into my guard, the impact sending a jarring shock through my entire body. He was strong. Stronger than in the classroom.
Shin's voice echoed in the cavern. "Only by fighting at your hardest will a person learn to defend properly. If they cannot defend themselves, they will be dead weight on a mission. By getting rid of the dead weight, we make Konoha stronger. Again."
I looked at Judai's face, at the pain and conflict in his eyes, and I knew. This was our new life. A descent into darkness. And the only way to survive it was to fight. To fight each other. To get stronger, no matter the cost.
(1st Person - Machi's POV)
His taunt worked. Judai growled, a low, guttural sound, and charged. He was faster this time, his movements fueled by a raw, desperate anger. I met him head-on.
Our fists and feet became a blur. It wasn't the clean, precise taijutsu of the Academy. This was a brawl, a dirty, ugly fight for survival born from months in the Genin Corps. I ducked under a wide, swinging hook and drove my knuckles into his side. He grunted, absorbing the blow, and countered with a knee aimed at my stomach. I twisted, taking the hit on my hip instead, and used the momentum to spin into a backfist that caught him on the jaw.
We were a whirlwind of gray jumpsuits and grunts of pain. I could feel the bruises forming, the sting of scraped knuckles, the dull ache in my ribs. But I pushed through it. Every blow I landed was a protest. Every hit I took was a price I was willing to pay. We were in this together, and if we had to beat the hell out of each other to survive, then so be it.
Judai was strong, his stamina fueled by those ridiculous chakra reserves of his. But I was more refined. The Genin Corps had hammered my brawling instincts into something sharp and efficient. I saw an opening, a slight over-extension as he threw a right cross.
I dropped low, letting the punch sail over my head, and drove my shoulder hard into his stomach. The air rushed out of him in a pained whoosh. As he doubled over, I brought my knee up, connecting solidly with his chin. His head snapped back, and he staggered away, his eyes glazed over.
I didn't give him a chance to recover. I followed up with a rapid three-punch combination—two to the body to draw his guard down, and a final, powerful right hook that crashed into the side of his head.
He went down. He hit the cold stone floor with a heavy thud and didn't move.
I stood over him, panting, my entire body screaming in protest. My knuckles were bleeding, my lip was split, and I was pretty sure he'd cracked one of my ribs. But I had won.
I knelt down, ready to help him up, to tell him I was sorry.
"He is not defeated. Only knocked down."
Shin's voice cut through the air, cold and sharp as a shard of ice. I looked over at him. He stood there, his arms crossed, his face a blank mask of indifference.
"He can no longer fight," I said, my voice shaking with a mixture of exhaustion and rage. "The spar is over."
"The spar is over when I say it is over," Shin replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Or when one of you is unable to continue. He is still breathing. He is still conscious. He can continue."
I stared at him, my mind refusing to accept the brutal logic. This wasn't training. This was torture.
"Attack," Shin commanded.
I looked down at Judai. He was pushing himself up onto his elbows, his body trembling with the effort. Blood trickled from his nose and the corner of his mouth. He looked up at me, his blue eyes filled with pain, but also with a familiar, stubborn defiance.
"Do it, Machi," he coughed, spitting out a glob of blood. "Don't... don't hesitate."
"No," I whispered.
"Attack," Shin repeated, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.
"I said no, you inoshishi!" I screamed, spinning to face him. "He's down! It's over!"
Shin didn't move. He simply tilted his head. "Insubordination has consequences. You know the terms of the arrangement. Perhaps the boy Judai would be more motivated to continue if he knew what would happen to him if you refuse to obey."
The threat hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. My defiance withered, replaced by a cold, sickening wave of helplessness. He was right. We were trapped. Our only way out was through each other.
I turned back to Judai. He was on one knee now, trying to stand. Tears of rage and frustration blurred my vision. I hated this. I hated this place, I hated Shin, and most of all, I hated myself for what I was about to do.
I took a deep breath, wiped the tears from my eyes, and walked toward my friend, my fists raised once more.
His blue eyes met mine, and in them, I saw no fear, no anger—just a weary resignation. He knew I had to do this.
I stopped in front of him, my fists raised, my knuckles screaming in protest. The air was thick with the coppery smell of our shared blood.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking.
"Don't be," he rasped, forcing a weak, bloody grin. "Just... make it quick."
I closed my eyes, took a shuddering breath, and swung. My fist connected with the side of his head. It wasn't a powerful blow, more of a push, but it was enough. He slumped sideways, his body finally giving out, and collapsed onto the cold stone floor, unconscious.
Silence.