Can I clear my conscience
If I'm different from the rest?
Do I have to run and hide? (oh, oh, oh, oh)
I never said that I want this,
This burden came to me,
And it's made its home inside (oh, oh, oh, oh)

-Imagine Dragons, Monster

She was a monster.

No one ever said so directly to her face, but Umiko never really saw how she could be anything besides a monster. And the terror in their eyes as she walked by them in the street, the grimace on her Jonin Sensei's face whenever he had to touch her, it was all just confirmation of the truth she had known since before she could walk.

Umiko Saito was a monster.

She didn't look all that monstrous, but all of the best monsters came in pretty wrappings. With her lithe form and pretty grey eyes. Her clear, unblemished, pale skin and her raven tresses. If she could ever touch something properly, she would have been sent on seduction missions. But, as she couldn't, too much of a demon creature, a freak of nature, to ever be able to feel another living being without causing every single nerve in their body to fire, sending pain signals through their every cell, that whole train of thought was rather irrelevant.

It was supposed to be a gift. When the village council had first discovered that she could manipulate pain, they were overjoyed. She was set up with riches and relics and everything any reasonable person could ever possibly want. For Umiko, orphaned in the Third war, it was heaven. Only, when she was treated like that, it was because they thought that she was going to be able to control it.

She couldn't. It only got worse and worse until even touching her own body with her hands sent that very same pain all through her, causing her to fall on the ground writhing in agony several times a day. Gloves didn't help much, not that it would have mattered even if they did.

She was a monster.

Which was why she took all of the so-called impossible missions. The suicide missions. A-ranks and S-ranked, infiltrating the nations no sane Iwa Nin would ever dream of going. And succeeding. Because, no matter how long or how often you felt the pain she produced, it would never, ever, lessen. It was a nearly invincible bloodline. One that she was glad that she would never have the chance to pass on.

Only now, she had finally been captured. And, even as she sat in the complete silence, and complete deprivation of any senses, with it too dark to see and sound-proofed so she couldn't even hear the sound of her own voice, she didn't really mind it all that bad. Any pain they could possibly inflict on her had already been accidentally caused to her ten times worse by her own hand.

Loneliness was a perpetual state for her. Really, she was already too broken to be much use to them. They would have better luck trying to piece her carefully back together than they would finding anything of use in the ground up glass dust inside her human shell. Their little tricks and games wouldn't work on her, and really, Umiko wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Being so much of a monster that even those souls most regarded as monsters by the outside world couldn't understand what needed to be done to get her to speak. Even when the woman with the purple hair and the snakes (she had been rather thoroughly introduced to several of them, and their specific fang sizes) ran a kunai through her side, promising that if she didn't talk that it would be her face next she simply gave her a cool smile and replied "I'll hold you to it then. Go on, make me bleed."

And the woman, Anko, did. She seemed to enjoy doing so, as Umiko's perfect porcelain doll face was forever stripped of it's glory. It was, most likely, wrong, for her to feel so satisfied by the fact that she looked the part of the monster just a bit more. And, really, if her right eye would no longer work, and she would forever have mobility problems… Well, as all the civilian girls seemed to say "Beauty hurts."

When she eventually left and the silent medic once again partially healed you, enough that she was still in horrible pain but wouldn't bleed to death sitting in her cell. They had long since given up on the sensory deprivation technique, and starvation wasn't working all that well either. Back when she was younger, before her curse was even a possibility and she was just another street rat going entire weeks without food was her normal, and her body had never really forgotten how to cope with the hunger gnawing a hole into her stomach.

The next day, a new man came in. She even recognized him, having been drilled on the important people in enemy villages. Ibiki Morino, the most feared Interrogator alive. She almost felt special, knowing that she warranted his personal attention. That all three of the other interrogators in the several months she's been stuck in this hell failed.

"Aww, you came to see me yourself? I feel so special" she said in a sweet voice. Admittedly, it wasn't that different from her regular voice, all light and airy and oh so deceptively pleasant. Like the sweet scent of a poisonous plant, she was torture in a pretty package.

"Cut the crap. Why, exactly, did Iwa send you to Konoha" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion despite the fact that he was radiating killer intent. She was very nearly impressed, really, at his display in stoicism.

"Well, it's a rather long story" she began, and he lunged for her before she could shield him, her bare skin hitting his arm. To his credit, he didn't scream like even the Tsuchikage had when her hand had brushed on his while she was taking her mission scroll. He didn't fall or writhe, but she could still see him shudder and she knew that he had felt it.

She quickly flinched away, and felt the guilt take over again. She could handle hurting herself, but there was a reason why she hadn't really wanted to be a shinobi. Even sitting here, being interrogated, she apologized for causing him pain.

"I'm sorry" she whimpered, breathing just as heavily as he was. "I'm… You should stay away. Don't you see… I'm poison" she whispered, tears threatening to well up in her eyes. She quickly steeled herself, because even if this wasn't her ideal career path she was a kunoichi and damnit she was going to act like one.

He paid no heed to her little meltdown, and instead asked "how? Your chakra is blocked, none of your jutsus should be able to function."

"It's not a jutsu" she decided to say, because really, her own abilities had nothing to do with the mission. "I can't touch any living creature without every single nerve in their body sending pain signals. Hell, I can't even touch myself. You villages may have your Jinchuuriki, but Iwa doesn't need one of them, we make our own monsters."

He somehow managed to ignore the pain long enough to handcuff her to the table. She sat there, wondering what would come next. How would they try to hurt her now that they knew that she would hit back whether they liked it or not. Whether she herself liked it or not.

To her surprise, he returned with a young boy, around the age of 8 or 9, with blonde hair and whiskers on his cheeks. He ran up to her and gave her a hug, and she was about to do everything she could to stop him and make sure he released without feeling pain, but, to her surprise, he didn't scream. He didn't do anything at all.

"You're not hurt? You… You don't feel pain" she whispered in awe, and he hopped away and nodded eagerly.

"Of course not, why would I? It's just a hug, dattebayo!"

Tears welled up in her eyes again, and Umiko made no move to stop them this time. "You know what, fine. Let me hold him, and I'll tell you everything I know."

For the first time she could remember, she could touch someone. All at once, her heart seemed just a bit less broken.

Loyalty to her village paled in comparison to this gift that had been provided to her.

So, I was reading Naruto fanfictions while watching X-men, and I had the idea of a Rogue-like character discovering someone that she could touch without fear of hurting them, and, well, this was the result. Hope you all enjoyed it, with the characters I don't own (Besides Umiko, but she was inspired by X-men, so, does it really count?).