"Come now Sakura, is this the best you can do?" the silhouette of a man asked her, "You have ten minutes until the toxins completely overwhelm your nervous system, and it would be such a disappointment if we couldn't continue this game."

Sakura propped herself on a numbing elbow and glared in his general direction. He was sitting in a chair fifteen feet away and in the dim light she could see his legs were crossed, his hands were folded in his lap, his fucking smirk, those dead, glassy brown eyes.

The wooden floor was cold. It felt good against her sweating thighs and shins.

She felt like she was going to throw up. She wanted to take a minute to collect herself but time wasn't on her side. He didn't allow her to think, anyway:

"Clock is ticking, puppet. As much as I would adore adding you to my private collection, I'm willing to admit that I enjoy these distractions I've come up with, wouldn't you?"

Sakura gritted her teeth. Shut up.

She wanted to give up. This was the, what, the sixth, seventh (eighth?) time he had deliberately poisoned her and expected her to crawl like a bug across a room to beg him for the antidote?

She didn't want to do this anymore. Forget honor, forget dignity, forget one's duty as a shinobi. This was pure torture and anyone who would dare argue with her on that fact could swallow their own teeth after she knocked them from their roots.

"I am waiting, Sakura and you know how much I hate doing so."

Her arm gave out when she tried to shift forward closer to him and she let out a cry of anguish when she found she was incapable of sliding it out from under her stomach. Turning her head to the side to feel the cool wood against her cheek, she bit her lip in both anger and despair.

No. Fuck you. I'm done. I'll just die. Why did I fight you for so long? At least if and when they find my body it won't be nearly as fucked up than if I were to keep doing this shit over and over and over…

The kunoichi couldn't stop the bile from escaping her lips. Luckily it was only a little bit and the flavor coating her tongue was that of foul water.

Her ears were still working and they picked up the sound of a set of chastising tongue clicks. She wanted to break his jaw.

Soft footsteps. A voice floating far above her head. "Oh well."

He lifted her into his arms as if she were nothing. In that moment, numb and as if floating, she was nothing. Hopefully she was so much nothing that he would deem her useless and kill her. Please.

The monster disguised as a beautiful teenaged boy settled himself down in his armchair with her in his arms. Her head was tucked into her chin and she could see her bruised and scraped legs draped over the opposite arm rest, his hand absentmindedly stroking up the length from her knee to the hem of her torn skirt. His other arm gripped her shoulder tightly, holding him close to her.

Swallowing was becoming more difficult. She couldn't cough. Her chest convulsed as she struggled to expel air. She was suffocating.

"Time's almost up."

I know. I'm glad. Don't you dare interfere. Let me die.

"Luckily for you, I have the antidote right here, so I'll be a good sport and let you pass this one time."

No. No no no no no no.

The sound of a cork being unstopped from a thick jar or vial and Sakura's chin was forcibly raised to meet the frigid lip of the foul-tasting potion.

She couldn't struggle. She couldn't slap it out of his hand and scream at him that she wanted to please, please die. Please.

Her jaw was slack and it was no trouble for him to pour the contents down her throat. As soon as the first drops landed on her tongue she knew she had lost. Won in that she would remain alive. Lost for the very same reason.

It had an acidic tinge to it and irritated Sakura's throat even more.

"I would be lying if I were to say I wasn't disappointed by today's efforts, Sakura." Sakura still retained the ability to blink so she shut her eyes and concentrated on the smell of his cloak. It smelt of cedar and clean laundry.

Anything to distract her from the reality of the situation.

Now she could feel his hand gently caressing her upper arm. If she had enough control to shiver, she would have, freely. Let him know how much he disgusted her, how much she hated him.

She cracked her eye open when she heard a metallic click and realized that he had turned off the light that she was too unhinged to determine the source of.

In the dark his voice was soft and silky and Sakura was lulled by it into a defeated—yet welcome- sleep. His mouth hovered over her ear and his fingers tickled her jaw when they brushed away her hair to better attack her brain with his honeyed words.

"Sweet dreams, puppet. Tomorrow is a new day, after all."