One never would had ever expected Ryuu Tama of all people to actually be living in the Diamond District, or that they’d even let it happen, but here Toushin was; sitting in what looked like a personal hanger in the swankest place in Sunagakure. He was sitting back in a long metal chair padded with leather cushions. Both of his arms were removed with only the mechanical sockets exposed where his shoulders would be with wires hanging out. His abdomen was pulled held opened by clamps, but guts and gore were pushed aside by machinery that was pumping his body’s natural fluids in oppose to the organs that would normally regulate him; his own flesh that had failed him.
Any normal man, hell, any normal fully trained shinobi would require anesthesia and enough painkillers to knock out a Suna Tiger. Uzu, on the other hand, flat refused them every single time he came to Tama’s home for maintenance; even if the scientist was a raging drunk. He was, after all, the Hybrid’s greatest creation, and not a soul could figure out the madman’s prosthetic; with the manual. Then again, no one else had taken to multiple part replacement like Toushin had, and even though he was an on-going experiment, the assassin continued to pretended he felt no pain.
The truth was, it was the most painful thing he had ever experienced. It took loads of focus and will to simply not go into shock when Tama started cutting him open. That and the Hybrid removing each part one-by-one to repair and clean it was still nothing compared to the pain of having the arms removed. Tama made sure that Toushin wasn’t just walking around with two numb piece of metal stuck to his body, and had found a way to attach nerve endings to make the arms trick the brain into being real. His abdomen had taken enough punishment over his life that he rarely felt pain from it anyways, but Uzu prided himself on the reaction timing of his original fleshy arms. To say that he was happy the scientist had managed to recreate this was an understatement, but the cost was searing pain; 24/7.
Loud, poppy music filtered overhead as the scientist bobbed and swayed his hips to the sounds. In his bloody gloved hands was the part the assassin behind him used to filter poisons in place of his liver; it was filthy.
“Living the high-life there, eh Uzu? I see…ooh, whiskey, red meat, maybe some high-priced STDs?” he finished with a snicker before a wrench flew past Tama’s head and clattered against his work table. At the last second the scientist lifted his glass of red wine as the wrench slid past and onto the floor. Putting the part down, the fae creature reached up to his lips with the bloody exam glove and remove the cigarette that was hanging from them to tap the growing ash off.
“At least twelve upgrades, and you’re still the worst about taking jokes. Maybe we need to update the modular inside of your fucking head too, make you a little more appreciative of my services.”
“And you could stop being such a prissy child, and do what I pay, you for,” Uzu responded, his eyes closed, “The only reason we’re not still doing this in that sorry trailer you used to call a house, is because of my generous funding, and strings,” his eyes half-opened and shot a neutral glance at the sassy genius, “Don’t forget that a single string tug can easily remove all of this as well. I burned a lot of bridges to get you into the Diamond District, I have no problems burning even more to run you out.”
Tama frowned, but said nothing before putting the cigarette out and turning around to get back to work on the part. Uzu was right, on a whole mess of levels. Without the old bastard he would have never been allowed back into the Diamond District…no matter how much money he made from elective surgeries. Toushin, however, walked into the District Council’s office once and came back with a deed in under an hour. They lived next to each other, though on the books Toushin’s deed was under his daughter’s name. It was going to be a surprise gift when he died, or when she got married; whichever came first. Yet he was almost certain that the house given to Tama was next to his own for a reason.
“Is Sousuke still coming?”
“He never said yes or no, just he’d look into it if he had time. No doubt he’s been distracted by both his new granddaughter and the war, if he shows up then he probably has more respect for you than I thought. Not like he can’t make a sword, of all things.”
Yes, of that the assassin had no doubts. If there was one thing he knew the Takahashi had in spades was weapon crafting. He already had a deal with the newest blacksmithing clan that was producing new weapons for Suna’s military, and their craft was amazing. They were also geniuses for being able to adhere to Tama’s exact specifications for modifying the shinobi prosthetics…but Uzu wanted something else to protect his life with. Takahashi Steel was fabled, and it would be easier to hand down to Chiyoko as well. Aside from those two things, Toushin had always wanted a sword crafted from the Takahashi clan. Now that he had plenty of money and actually worked from the Suna government, he hoped it was enough to sway Sousuke’s favor for the man to personally make him a blade to fell their shared enemies with.
Any normal man, hell, any normal fully trained shinobi would require anesthesia and enough painkillers to knock out a Suna Tiger. Uzu, on the other hand, flat refused them every single time he came to Tama’s home for maintenance; even if the scientist was a raging drunk. He was, after all, the Hybrid’s greatest creation, and not a soul could figure out the madman’s prosthetic; with the manual. Then again, no one else had taken to multiple part replacement like Toushin had, and even though he was an on-going experiment, the assassin continued to pretended he felt no pain.
The truth was, it was the most painful thing he had ever experienced. It took loads of focus and will to simply not go into shock when Tama started cutting him open. That and the Hybrid removing each part one-by-one to repair and clean it was still nothing compared to the pain of having the arms removed. Tama made sure that Toushin wasn’t just walking around with two numb piece of metal stuck to his body, and had found a way to attach nerve endings to make the arms trick the brain into being real. His abdomen had taken enough punishment over his life that he rarely felt pain from it anyways, but Uzu prided himself on the reaction timing of his original fleshy arms. To say that he was happy the scientist had managed to recreate this was an understatement, but the cost was searing pain; 24/7.
Loud, poppy music filtered overhead as the scientist bobbed and swayed his hips to the sounds. In his bloody gloved hands was the part the assassin behind him used to filter poisons in place of his liver; it was filthy.
“Living the high-life there, eh Uzu? I see…ooh, whiskey, red meat, maybe some high-priced STDs?” he finished with a snicker before a wrench flew past Tama’s head and clattered against his work table. At the last second the scientist lifted his glass of red wine as the wrench slid past and onto the floor. Putting the part down, the fae creature reached up to his lips with the bloody exam glove and remove the cigarette that was hanging from them to tap the growing ash off.
“At least twelve upgrades, and you’re still the worst about taking jokes. Maybe we need to update the modular inside of your fucking head too, make you a little more appreciative of my services.”
“And you could stop being such a prissy child, and do what I pay, you for,” Uzu responded, his eyes closed, “The only reason we’re not still doing this in that sorry trailer you used to call a house, is because of my generous funding, and strings,” his eyes half-opened and shot a neutral glance at the sassy genius, “Don’t forget that a single string tug can easily remove all of this as well. I burned a lot of bridges to get you into the Diamond District, I have no problems burning even more to run you out.”
Tama frowned, but said nothing before putting the cigarette out and turning around to get back to work on the part. Uzu was right, on a whole mess of levels. Without the old bastard he would have never been allowed back into the Diamond District…no matter how much money he made from elective surgeries. Toushin, however, walked into the District Council’s office once and came back with a deed in under an hour. They lived next to each other, though on the books Toushin’s deed was under his daughter’s name. It was going to be a surprise gift when he died, or when she got married; whichever came first. Yet he was almost certain that the house given to Tama was next to his own for a reason.
“Is Sousuke still coming?”
“He never said yes or no, just he’d look into it if he had time. No doubt he’s been distracted by both his new granddaughter and the war, if he shows up then he probably has more respect for you than I thought. Not like he can’t make a sword, of all things.”
Yes, of that the assassin had no doubts. If there was one thing he knew the Takahashi had in spades was weapon crafting. He already had a deal with the newest blacksmithing clan that was producing new weapons for Suna’s military, and their craft was amazing. They were also geniuses for being able to adhere to Tama’s exact specifications for modifying the shinobi prosthetics…but Uzu wanted something else to protect his life with. Takahashi Steel was fabled, and it would be easier to hand down to Chiyoko as well. Aside from those two things, Toushin had always wanted a sword crafted from the Takahashi clan. Now that he had plenty of money and actually worked from the Suna government, he hoped it was enough to sway Sousuke’s favor for the man to personally make him a blade to fell their shared enemies with.