Chapter Text
Timestamp situated before the start of the Hikaru mission
It was obvious from the moment they tried to implement it that this whole 'Hikaru' plan was a flop. Kaku was disappointed to see this chance of getting Skullbone slip away. Or rather, he was going to be disappointed as soon he got through feeling so bloody relieved. As a CP9 agent, his own likes or dislikes were irrelevant, but that hadn't stopped him from disliking this plan. He'd taken to keeping a silent list of all the ways this could blow up in their faces with various disastrous consequences that would make the Water 7 debacle look like a blue ribbon scheme in comparison; he'd reached number fifteen that morning, and had added two more by the time it was obvious that Jango did not have what it would take to make it happen anyway.
What a stupid oversight on their part. He and Lucci - and Kalifa, Blueno and the rest of CP9 - had concentrated on setting up a full-blown foolproof infiltration mission in record time; they'd not stopped to consider that the whole thing revolved around hypnosis, and that the fundamental axiom of mesmerism was that that strength of mind of the hypnotist should be greater than that of the subject. Lucci had willpower that could punch holes through steel and Jango had the willpower of milk curd. There really was no contest.
But since Lucci hadn't pulled the plug on the plan yet, Kaku did his part without comment. It hadn't been discussed, yet it was obvious to both team members that Lucci would not be left alone with this Jango while possibly under the latter's influence, so Kaku was there, arms crossed as he lounged back against the wall behind Lucci's chair, idly tallying the minutes, and then the hour, as it became more and more evident that this was just not going to work.
On the first attempt, Jango had somehow managed to hypnotize himself, saying 'Oh, hello, my name's Hikaru, how do you do-' before falling fast asleep mid-sentence. His wakeup call from the desk followed shortly; it lacked somewhat in the courtesy department.
The second attempt faltered because Jango got nervous of the way Lucci was staring at him.
Lucci toned down his aura and set his expression to dead neutral for the third attempt, which went on for eighteen minutes before Jango, shaking like a leaf, said he needed a glass of water, and possibly the bathroom p-please.
Kaku shifted, to shove away from the wall and get Jango a glass of water, or preferably a large bucket to drown him in-
Lucci glanced over his shoulder, an odd gesture; as if he needed to be absolutely sure Kaku was still there. Then he faced front again and closed his eyes.
Kaku stayed where he was, frowning. Looked like Lucci was going to pull out all the stops to make this work. Kaku knew his partner's dedication to the mission was something that had to be seen to be believed, but to go this far...
Jango opened his mouth, puzzled. Kaku shushed him with a gesture halfway between peremptory and threatening. Jango shut up.
The silence was potent, it gathered like pools of ocean water slowly seeping into the room...
After five minutes, Lucci's eyes opened. They weren't quite focused.
The basics of Rokushiki was absolute self-control, taking the user beyond pain, beyond his physical limits, beyond human abilities. It made for the absolute weapon, for a perfect defense. Lucci had used the willpower this entailed to leave himself wide open instead.
'Now', Kaku signaled curtly behind Lucci's back. Jango jumped and gave Kaku and Lucci an uncertain look. When Kaku gestured again, a little threateningly this time, Jango lifted his chakram.
"Um, listen to my voice. When I say One Two Jango, you will fall asleep. When you wake up, you will remember that your name is Hikaru, that you're a shipwright, and that you've been in an accident."
Jango's voice droned on, slowly picking up in assurance and persuasive force, which meant that this time he thought it was working. Kaku caught himself hoping the Marine private was wrong.
That voice, rhythmic, controlled, removed layers of Lucci like an animal being flayed. It took ten minutes to go over the various characteristics being suppressed, then another five to implant the seeds of a new personality, each important point being repeated several times. The amnesia angle felt hokey to Kaku, but it was the easiest way of setting up a background without spending hours elaborating a false history and personality that 'Hikaru' himself might question and punch holes into, and wouldn't that leave them in a pickle if he did...Tabula Rasa, the only way. It'd be up to Kaku to fill in the blanks with their prepared cover story, adapting it on the fly as required. Lucky him.
Jango's face was dripping with sweat, but he'd covered all the salient points, and hammered them in to boot. Then he told Lucci in elaborate detail of the dream 'Hikaru' would have every night which would reinforce the conditioning until he met Skullbone.
"Now, you are going to fall deeply asleep, and you'll wake up in half an hour...One...Two...Jango!"
Kaku's heart thudded once, twice- knew it, it's not going to work, nothing's happening-
Lucci began to list to one side.
Kaku caught him before he could fall from the chair. Lucci was dead weight in his arms - for a gut-twisting moment Kaku thought his partner was comatose, or truly dead, because normally Lucci looked just as menacing asleep as he did awake, and right now he looked- he looked- Kaku reminded himself that this wasn't 'normally'; not by a long shot.
Oh boy. Here we go.
Jango had slumped back in his chair, limp with utter exhaustion. Kaku ignored him. The private would have until tomorrow to recover, then he'd do Kalifa, assuming 'Hikaru' was taking properly in Lucci's mind. Kaku lifted Lucci up in his arms and headed towards the next room.
The doctor was the real deal, so was the nurse, but they usually practiced on board a Marines Grand Line war galleon rather than in a small clinic. They cleared the way so Kaku could lay Lucci down on the hospital bed, and then they set about attaching the monitors and prepping the room and their 'patient' as they would for someone recovering from head trauma.
Kaku let them work, and went to stand by the window. They were in a tiny village on a small island along the Grand Line. Too many pirate attacks and a round of typhoid fever had left it a ghost town. Now, every person he could see from the clinic's window, the shopkeeper sweeping his stoop, the mother and her two children, the sailor sauntering down the street, were Cipher Pol agents or their families. The whole village was a sham, a backdrop, there to fool just one person; the man lying in the bed, or rather, the man he would be when he woke up, when he would no longer be a CP9 agent and one of the orchestrators of this illusion. Kaku and Lucci - no, Hikaru, it was Hikaru from now on - would leave in a few days, and then the village would be a ghost town once more, and no rumor of odd occurrences or abnormal government activity would follow the pair as they carried the lie with them on the ocean liner to Turtle Bay.
I really don’t like this mission, Kaku thought, but then he put that away in the same place he put all his other feelings when the game was afoot. Focus on the mission. Emotions became tools to be deployed as part of his mask, the face that would fool everybody he would meet from now on, including what was left of his partner.
A flicker of surprise crossed the doctor's dour face as Kaku turned from the window and walked back towards the bed. She had noticed a change, though she might not be able to pin down what was different about the agent. It was everything; body language, facial expression, mental make-up, thought process, everything.
Kaku hovered over his brother with unveiled concern. Still not awake. Nearly three weeks since Hikaru had been struck by that beam during the bombardment. The skull fracture was mended, so were the cuts, yet he was still unconscious. Thank god the doctor had said she'd seen signs of improvement today; rapid progress that would indicate he might wake up any minute now.
Kaku took the limp hand in his own and waited.