//Uwaaahh!!--- ww-w-aaahhh!!//
A small palm reaches up to grasp at the appendage which points at him, emitting waves of anguish only identifiable by the sound they produce.
///Waaahh!!----Uwahhh!---Uwaaaaaahhh!!!//
None of these sounds could be distinguishable when it came to the comprehension and subconscious translation into the human language; that being that the noise was nothing more than noise. Sound brought forth from the depths of the heart in respects of another perceiving it. The sound was not meant to be understood--- but heard. If only it were heard, than one would come towards the source of its production in regards towards ceasing it.
Once that was placed into action, that individual would make efforts to sleuth their way towards the root of the predicament. Even if it were impossible to comprehend the noise, one could play a form of charades until the problem was solved--- or grasped with a firm grip at least.
//Waaaahh!!//
“Taka?--- What’s wrong, Taka?”
Two earnest palms cuff around the source of audible disturbance, lifting the noise towards it’s warm bosom. The act itself seemed to emit enough radiance to quell the cries of the one in distress--- if not for a bit as it seemed that the problem itself was not addressed, but momentarily avoided.
“Taka~, Careful not to wake your brother. . . You must be mindful of others, Taka, as we family all live together.”
//uwwaa--//
“shhh~”
From being silenced, there was then the sweet melody of a hymn which brought the child back into his slumber. It had but only one word sung at different pitches, using chords which melded into one another like fine machination one would only find in the most intricate of clockworks. Each note fell into another as if destined to be in that position--- and though it only had one word, it was just enough to silence even nature itself.
“Taka~---- . . . Taka. . . Taka~.”
Simple as it was, it was just enough. The metronomic melody rang like a sweet evening bell over and over. . .
-----||-----
“Taka~----. . . Taka. . . Taka~----. . . Taka. . . Taka. . . Taka!---- TAKA!!”
In an instant, blood meshed with flavors of sweat, saliva, and salty, rain-like water within the mouth of the young boy. It could have been the rain, which poured upon his frail body as if it meant to cleanse him of all his sins--- or it might have been the tears which streamed down the sides of his face unendingly. Either or, rain or pain, the liquids were nothing more than a slurry of ridicule once capable of being tasted.
An example of his desperate efforts with the capability of being tasted; savored in their purest form.
“TAKA--- FOCUS!”
It was the only instruction given to him from his father before the fresh taste of blood once again registered within his taste buds. His head recoiled backwards as if it hoped to make amends with his feet, reaching ever further backwards until ending its trek many inches into the dirt. The body, soon following his cranium like the tail hidden between the legs of the whitewashed dog, looked to be in no better condition than the face that could hardly be identified as that of a male.
Blood and dirt caked nails dug into the earth further as it strained to send its will to the rest of the soon-to-be-cadaver body. As if they were roots, they penetrated the wet soil like a plant would to gather energy from the planet--- but he would be little more than a weed in comparison. A parasite, something which thrived to live and yet stole the life from others in return. His cries for survival were something to commend, but weeds were meant to be ripped apart and laid to waste; and in retrospect, he too shared that fate.
“RISE, TAKA!”
His father said from the sidelines as a kick hugged at his stomach like it never wished to say goodbye. Reflexively, his torso bent inwards to relieve itself of some of that pain; though it only made it appear as if his gut too had similar feelings towards this foot. At that time, there were enough feelings--- enough sensations to bring a smile on the face of the young one that gasped in pain. It was all very lovely, but in reality, that smile was actually just a twisted expression of his teeth gritting with enough pressure to crack; gums splitting so as to increase the amount of fluid which ran from the sides of his open mouth.
-----||-----
There was but a year in variance, yet it was not age that made the difference, but talent--- potential. . . destiny. He was one who had eyes which gleamed no matter the darkness which surrounded them--- the rain being little more than refracting source to display the vermilliance which irradiated from his façade. In this dimly lighted environment, it was hard to miss the eyes which seemed to not to penetrate, look down, or gaze through you; but instead they seemed to analyze you piece by piece. Cold fingers reaching so as to take you apart and place each individual part upon a cloth draped table one by one. . .
There were no mistakes in what he did simply due to the fact that he knew all pieces that were fashioned so as to create the mechanism that was you. Every gear and pulley which caused even the slightest motion--- if he broke one, he knew what would follow.
“TAKA--- CAN YOU ATLEAST HIT YOUR BROTHER ONCE?!”
The boy could not.
With a palm full of water-soaked soil--- his fist clenched in disappointment.
-----||-----
Wind carried along the dried earth which had gathered in his hand, drifting off towards lands beyond.
The expression of the male was one of solace, free of pain or trouble--- one of lax and carelessness. With similarities to the wind, Takahiko felt that it was best to take things easy on an occasion so as to keep problems from becoming hindrances. Hindrances were nothing more than burdens, and burdens amounted to little less than taxing weights which served no purpose but to be venomous to whomever had them equipped.
If his life remained problem-free, then he was respectively free from all forms of grief and turbulence.
It was a good life---
“C’mon, Taka. It’s time. . .”
---It was nice while it lasted.
He had been given an order, one that was simple enough in its entirety--- silence the captive. The missing-nin captured was one which had been previously aligned with the Water Country ANBU, and as such, the information he held was something of considerable value. If it were to fall into the wrong hands--- this being all things that he had etched into his cranium, it was mostly trivial so there was no need for him to question any orders given.
The objective was to enter the room where the captive was being held, then commence subdual or any form of incapacitation which would allow for the retrieval of the captive without further casualties. Due to the captive’s capabilities, all who entered left in either a near-critical condition or without injuries--- not even realizing that they had.
Speculation was that things would be different this time around.
-----||-----
“Hmm. . .”
The white haired male hummed aimlessly to himself as he watched Takahiko open the door in an attempt to make his way inside the closed space. The way his red eyes seemed to gleam at the boy, it sent a shiver of familiarity down his spine.
“---You go by?”
Takahiko could only answer with the name he was given; his Alias.
“Hmm---“
The male seemed to be comtemplating something, but what, he had not a clue. It seemed to be little more than luck itself that he managed to stay within the room of the captive for this long already; as many people didn’t last but a few seconds before returning in a state one couldn’t exactly describe for better or worse. Sometimes, it was more of there being a lack of a word needed.
“So you know who I am?”
It was obvious who he was, unless this was a question which didn’t pertain the knowledge he had already been given prior to making contact. Under normal circumstances, one would view the initial inference as the most viable, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to make this as easy as it could have been. It was why he asked the question which followed up on the curiosity of the male’s identity, though he knew most of what was already known.
It wasn’t as if he would learn anything shocking anyways, but curiosity killed the ca---
“I’m your older brother, Taka.”
Well, in retrospect, it made sense to use the sibling of the fugitive in order to psychologically lower his guard; which had seemed to take place. If it were a potentially viable situation unto which it could have been performed, the tactic had been utilized an innumerable amount of occasions; accounting for little to no risk with the highest variable of return. On a subconscious level, those who shared the same blood were more vulnerable towards one another when it came to empathetic verdicts or assessments--- that fact mostly holding accreditation due to an individual’s increase in inclination towards the contemporary beliefs of kinship . . . or something of that nature. In laymen’s terms, one grew softer once family was involved.
---However, there wasn’t much evidence to support the alleged claim of the white-haired male, who might or might not be of reciprocal relation.
From his current knowledge, he did not have a second eldest brother within his lineage--- unless of course you factored this individual so as to allow only two brothers; Taku and Taro. Takumi was only but a year older than himself, so it wouldn’t be impossible for there to be someone of a greater age range; however, his eldest brother, Taro was easily a decade wiser than himself.
Logically speaking, this man would have had to be from two to nine years older than Takahiko, meaning that his relationship towards the eldest brother was of either a younger and lesser experienced brother--- or somewhat of an outcast.
Either that, or this man was older than Taro himself; meaning that he, instead was the first born child and could then be ruled in as someone who faded from the history of the family due to situations or circumstances of complexity.
-----||-----
The latter would have seemed more probable in regards to why he knew nothing about the male, though his appearance itself seemed to play coy on the inference. The white haired captive did not look a day over twenty two, giving those who observed him an uncomfortable feeling due to his expression, nature, and the impression given off by his crimsonite eyes.
“You question my existence, correct?”
The captive asked with a face devoid of structural importance. If one had to explain what had been said previously, it was not that he held not a smile or frown, showing likeness to those of the stoic category, but rather that his face seemed to hold no physical qualities; save for one knowing that it was indeed a face. Whether it was the lighting which casted shadows upon him, subsequently masking his expression altogether--- or even if it were from an alien source. . . what Takahiko currently experienced was something which he attempted to purge from his memory.
It was not normal for one to see nothing but crimson hues, the eyes themselves so perfectly depictable in all features and qualities despite the face serving no purpose but to hold shape to the head which accompanied the red globes. From that point on, the room felt as if it were gradually shriveling down into abysmal states--- or was it more accurate to say that it felt as if the eyes themselves were engulfing the room; sucking in vacant space to further intensify the focus placed upon them. Vibration rattled the senses, making it hard for Takahiko to inhale as he clutched at his shirt.
He had been caught within a genjutsu, but it had been due to his own mistakes.
Thinking critically, how was it possible for the male to know who he was when he was shrouded within the drabs of the Special task force. Let alone that, his face was covered with a mask which hid all facial features, unlike the captive. Though his tremendously long braid stood alone in its conquest for attention, it surely couldn’t have been enough information to identify Takahiko; even if this person happened to be related to him or not. It would have been more accurate to say that his hair shouldn’t have served as any factor at all due to the fact that it rested behind him; out of view.
Takahiko had used his alias, his title; and yet the male had said his forename as if he knew if for ages--- that alone being enough to stagger his perceptions enough to be caught like a moth to the flame. Following up with the allegations of kinship, and his mind had been shattered within its own realm of investigative inference. As he had said before, people tend to lower their guard when faced against their own--- even if it could be falsehood.
He had no one to blame for this mistake but himself--- and yet he then caught wind to why so many before him were left defeated.
It was an ingenious system to utilize.
“I see you understand---“
The captive said, almost as if he could read Takahiko’s mind. He nodded in confirmation.
-----||-----
“Now you will listen, brother . . . and you will listen well. What happens next is that I tell you a secret, and then you release me. Is that clear?”
Though he couldn’t understand the motives of the male, such as why he continued with the façade of consanguineous relation, there was little he could do save for the nodding of his head. Takahiko was no longer in control of his body, his will much too miniscule to compete against the might which stood before him.
There was the tilting of a head as an ear leaned towards the lips of the one who whispered softly--- then there was silence.
The dull, granite colored pupils of the male with no strength of his own to resist had then flushed with red; as if dyed in the blood of his hopeless efforts.
