She was used to the chains by now. Old and heavy, made from metal that wouldn't rust. A collar just shy of being tight enough to choke. But in the end even stone turned into dust, and time was the only thing she had. So she would wait, for freedom or death, whichever came first.

. . .

A/N:

This is a rewrite of 'Of Men and Monsters'. The main character is an OC, so do not expect Naruto to be the focus of this story. He was the hero in canon and he won't suddenly become some useless little nobody, but it is not him this stories follows. Accordingly you don't necessarily get to read about everything he does or learns.

That being said, I am not immune common pitfalls like making a character too strong or special or what have you. So feel free to point it out if I'm going overboard. I might not always agree, but I will certainly keep any and all criticism in mind and am grateful for it.

. . .

I - To See the Sun Once More

Chikako woke to a familiar pain. Head hanging on her chest because the muscles in her neck were too weak and too stiff to keep it upright. Skin caked in dried blood and old grime. It itched and prickled, and she was half convinced it would come off with the dirt if she scratched at it. Not that that was an option. Her wrists had been chained to the wall above her head for days now. Arms long gone numb, yet somehow still burning and shoulders alternately screaming in pain or just dully throbbing in sync with her heartbeat.

She'd found herself in that position a lot lately, but never this long. When was the last time she'd had food? Water? It seemed like weeks. She couldn't even remember. There were so many things she couldn't remember, didn't want to. Pale face and golden eyes. A friendly smile, twisted in anger, then came the pain, so much pain.

She'd had questions in the beginning. Where's mommy? And daddy? Who are you? Many, many questions. Pain was a good teacher though. Don't ask, don't suffer. Easy. Effective. It was one of his favorite tools. Pleasure was the other, and they worked so well together. When there was nothing but pain, always pain, feeling numb became bliss. He liked drugs too. Here, take a pill and feel alive.

But only good children got to not be in pain and Chikako had never been a very good child. He liked her because she was smart, that was how she'd gotten her name. She didn't remember the real one. The one from before. He'd said it didn't matter. He'd given her a new one, a gift. There weren't many with names. Most just had numbers. Hers had been seven. One of the first. Strong to last this long. A favorite. Sheltered, he'd said.

The others screamed when he stuck them with needles, cut them open or painted lines on their skin. They bleed and begged and cried. Some lived, some didn't. He did it to her too. Once it was safe, once he knew she wouldn't die. She never got to die. Doomed to stay alive and suffer. Because she was his favorite. White snake. Monster among men.

He hid well. Slithered around their rules and beneath their feet. Weak he'd called them. Blind. But he'd been gone for a while now. Days at least. It wasn't right. They were his precious little experiments. His children. And they were screaming. Why were they screaming when he wasn't even here? Someone else was though. That wasn't right either. There had never been anyone else before, just the snake and the children.

Now there were animals with white faces and dark fur. One looked like a dog, but he didn't growl or bark. He just stood there and stared at her with mismatched eyes. One was dark, old and empty like her own. The other was red and spinning slowly. That one belonged to someone else. She could tell. He felt like thick, gray clouds and lightning. The eye though was fire and smoke, burning hot and excited, where the rest of him was like the calm before the storm.

The other children were wild things. She could almost taste their pain and fear in the air. They struggled and screamed. Fought for their lives. She didn't see why. What was the point? All another day would bring was more misery. They should be thankful to be granted death early, even if it was at the hands of more white animals. Her dog seemed nice though. he was still quiet, just watching her as she watched him back.

Her mind was fuzzy, she knew. Not enough food or water, too many drugs. She was burning up from the inside out, yet every breeze that slipped through the half-open door only made her shiver. The colors weren't right either, or rather there were too many, too vibrant. The lights down here were never that bright, but she could see everything. Even the things she usually just felt. Chakra in the air like mist and wrapping around the dog tightly. Then her chains were gone and the world suddenly shifted, sharply to the left and up.

"Bad dog," she tried to say, but it sounded slurred even to her. Chikako could feel acid burning in her throat. Closed her eyes against the vertigo, but it was no use. She retched, spat what little there was left in her stomach out and onto the dogs black fur. He didn't bark then either, but his chakra curled in distaste. She didn't apologize though. It was his fault for not warning her.

. . .

When she woke again she was greeted by white. Ceiling, walls, floor, even the blanket that covered her. Everything was white. And then there was the dog of course. Still there, waiting next to her bed. Her mind was a little hazy, but she could tell now that he wasn't really a dog. His face was a mask, his dark fur a black cloak.

"Dog," she rasped out, forced the word past dry lips.

"Hound," he corrected and held a glass of water to her mouth. She wanted to drink all of it at once, but he didn't let her. He was right of course. It would only make her choke or hurl it up again, but she tried anyway. He took the glass away when she wouldn't stop struggling. Stared at her with hard eyes until she heaved a sigh and gave up.

. . .

A man barged into the room, black coat billowing out behind him as if caught by a breeze. There were scars on his face, the top of his head covered by dark cloth and more of the white animals behind him. Men, she thought. They were men, not animals. That was important. Animals just did what they needed to to survive, but men did what they wanted. Men could be monsters.

"Bring her to room 6C," the one without mask instructed and the others obeyed. Was he the worst of them then? The others didn't seem afraid though. Their actions weren't hastened by the fear of someone expecting punishment if they didn't move fast enough. Maybe they were numb too.

Sometimes the snake got tired of punishing her because she didn't scream anymore. But why should she? It never helped anyway. He had seemed to like the sound, the song created by pain. Not screaming had become her own little rebellion. There wasn't much else she could do to defy him.

So when these people picked her up she didn't scream either. Nothing but a huff escaped her as her bruised ribs were jostled. The dog noticed though. No, Hound, he'd said. He took her from the one with a cat mask. Not gently, but mindful of her wounds. The cat didn't bristle and Hound didn't growl, so their odd little procession moved in silence. Out of the white room and into gray hallways.

These were a lot more like what she was used to. They were cleaner and the biting smell of chemicals didn't cling to the air, but they seemed familiar all the same. It was comforting somehow, even as echos of old pain flashed through her mind.

Hound placed her on a wooden chair at some point. The room it was in square and empty but for a table and another chair. The maskless man sat down on that one. Hound moved to stand in one of the corners behind her, but the other two left without being told to. They knew this game then. Chikako wondered if someone would explain the rules to her or if she had to figure them out for herself. She needn't have worried.

"I will ask questions, and you will answer truthfully and to the best of your ability," the maskless man instructed. He stared at her with hard eyes and it took her a moment to guess why. He was waiting for confirmation. She blinked, then nodded. That earned her a tiny smile and the killing intent she hadn't even noticed before lessened. How odd. The snake had always just expected that his orders were understood and followed. What he said was law, no discussions, no arguments. Would this man allow her to ask questions? What an intriguing thought.

Chikako decided she would play his game, and play it well. When he asked if she knew the name Orochimaru she didn't just say yes. She told him everything she had ever learned about the white snake and what he did. It was fascinating to watch the man's expression. He didn't wear a literal mask, but his face was one all the same. The muscles barely ever moving, so at odds with the way his chakra simmered in quiet anger. Behind her Hound's was a veritable storm, but she didn't turn around. This game was about information and she couldn't give hers away for free. So when she was done talking she asked a question of her own, and when the maskless man refused to answer she did the same.

He was smart enough not to threaten her with pain. It wouldn't have worked. Instead he tried a different tactic. Offering answers as payment before she could come up with questions herself. The trades weren't fair, but he was in the stronger position and she didn't want to risk ending the game by testing the rules too much.

"My name is Ibiki Morino," he told her and then waited expectantly.

"Chikako," she told him. "It's not the real one, I don't remember that."

It was good enough apparently, so they continued playing. For hours and hours he would share little things and get little things in return. He was the head of Torture and Interrogation, T&I for short. She had been the most important experiment, the favorite child. T&I belonged to the Intelligence Division. Orochimaru had been trying to change chakra somehow. Hound was part of the Special Assassination and Tactical Squad, ANBU. Chikako was eight years old and her number had been seven before she got a name.

"The village you are in is called Konohagakure," he offered.

"What an insight," she scoffed. "I know that, I was born here. Your offers are getting cheap."

"They are indeed," he admitted, standing up slowly. She flinched back, expecting to be struck and toppling her chair in her haste to get away. Ibiki stopped dead in his tracks, watching, waiting. Hound's chakra had surged at the sudden movement, but he hadn't left his corner.

It took Chikako several minutes to calm down again. She could endure pain, but that didn't mean she liked it. She nodded at Ibiki when she was convinced they were still playing the game. Just words, no violence. Questions and answers, those were the rules.

. . .

They kept playing for several weeks, months even. Hound wasn't always the one watching from a corner in the back of the room. There were a cat and weasel, hare and ox, even a boar one time. Some of them were calmer than Hound, some younger, come older. The cat might be a woman. But regardless of who they were, none of them ever left that spot in the corner for the hours Ibiki and Chikako played their game.

She had been given her own room for the time in-between sessions. Or cell, considering it was locked and a guard posted outside. Still, it was nicer than any place she remembered living in before. She had an actual bed with a soft mattress. A thick blanket and fluffy pillows to ward off the chill that never quite left these halls. Ibiki had taken to trading books for her more interesting answers. He even let her choose, always bringing at least three different ones. She also got a shelf to store her treasures.

The first book she picked was called 'The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi'. When Ibiki warned her that this one had sold poorly she told him she didn't care. She wanted that one because she recognized the author's name. Jiraiya was one of the Sannin. Orochimaru had ranted about him sometimes, forgetting that his little experiments were in fact children, able to listen and understand. The snake hadn't said it in so many words, but Chikako knew that he cared for his teammates. It was, after all, the losses all of them had suffered during the war that drove him to despise human fragility, to test the limits to which the body could be modified.

Chikako thought he might be searching for a way to become immortal. He was fascinated with her extraordinary sensing abilities, but the thing he really cared for was how fast she healed. How much abuse her body could take before it threatened to break down. How many days without sustenance it could endure before it started to consume itself.

The tale Jiraiya had written was about a ninja named Naruto. From what she knew about shinobi he wasn't a very good one. He was loud, flashy and obnoxious. His every action was colored and driven by emotions. And yet, he never gave up and somehow managed to actually prevail in the end.

The next book Chikako chose was barely more than a booklet. It listed the Shinobi Rules. Apparently they were taught to children in the Academy, a place were one learned how to be a ninja. She used it to better evaluate Naruto's behavior in The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi, but that only made him seem like an even worse ninja. Rule four stated that 'a shinobi must always put the mission first' and rule twenty-five 'a shinobi must never show their tears'.

Only, Naruto broke those frequently. He would cry for the lost and dead or even out of joy, and he would ignore his orders in order to do 'the right thing'. Chikako didn't know how he decided what was right. He just seemed to know and people agreed with him, even when what he had done was against the rules.

She asked Ibiki about it, and while he was willing enough to answer, it wasn't very helpful. On one hand he insisted that the rules existed for a reason. That they were important and should be obeyed. On the other though, he explained that blind obedience could be just as bad, if not worse, than disregarding the rules. In the end he advised her to try and understand the reasoning behind them, to act according to the spirit of a law instead of it's letter he called it.

It took a while before Ibiki offered her books that contained obviously practical knowledge, like how to use chakra. He said she could read it and keep it in her room, but she was not to try any of the exercises on her own. It was fascinating. Orochimaru had never taught her anything more than she strictly needed to know. Just enough to describe what she could sense to him, or which of her organs was in pain after he administered some new concoction.

She obeyed Ibiki, not willing to risk losing any of her printed treasures. Her reward were more practical books and after a while the freedom to visit the public library with one of the silent ANBU as her guard. The first time Chikako had been so excited, she completely forgot that there would be other people. The busy street with all of it's noise and buzzing chakra had completely overwhelmed her and the guard, it had been Hound that day, had to carry her shivering form back to her room.

Two days later Weasel offered to take her to the library at night, when the streets would be empty. He actually had to coax her into agreeing, but she was glad that he cared enough to bother. In the dark only a few shinobi jumped from building to building, the Roof Paths, Weasel called it. None of them paid them any mind though.

. . .

One day another man without a mask was there when Hound let her to the interrogation room she and Ibiki played their game in. He was very old, with a few darker spots on the leathery skin of his face. There were deep wrinkles around his eyes and mouth that made it seem like he laughed at lot.

"You're the Hokage aren't you?" She asked him and he nodded, smiling. Many of the library books mentioned him. Hiruzen Sarutobi the Sandaime. He had also been Orochimaru's and Jiraiya's sensei at some point.

"Would you like to leave this place? Maybe become a shinobi of Konoha?" He offered. She could feel Hound's chakra curl in on itself. There was a tension to it and mild anger. He hadn't known this - whatever it was - was going to happen and it worried him. She glanced in Ibiki's direction, but he was perfectly calm, at ease even. This was the kind of question that had a wrong answer then and he either didn't care or thought she would get it right.

She'd read many a book about Konohagakure, her shinobi and values, in order to better understand Naruto's tale. They wanted loyalty and honesty, trust in their leader. Valued strength in order to protect those that could not protect themselves.

"I will serve," she told him. Will, not want. Very careful not to lie to this man, who had earned the title God of Shinobi on the battlefield. If serving gave her the freedom to learn, to become stronger, so that she might protect herself, then that was what she would do.

. . .

She was given a small apartment of her own. Right next door to Ibiki, who frequently left interesting books on her doorstep. Sometimes he'd invite her over for lunch, because he knew she couldn't cook to save her life he claimed. She knew better. It was to continue playing their little game of ask and answer. The questions were different now, more concerned with her progress and how she liked Konoha, and less with what had happened to her in Orochimaru's care.

Chikako didn't quite understand that Ibiki was actually concerned for her wellbeing until Weasel took the time to explain it to her. After three months he also told her that he no longer had official orders to watch her and wouldn't be able to visit as often. It made her sadder than she could reasonably explain. Weasel was one of the few guards that bothered talking to her at all. Most, like Hound, had perfected the art of using the least amount of words necessary to give instructions and generally kept at a distance, and some, like Cat, never made a sound at all.

Weasel though would sit at a table and read books with her. He'd discuss the theory and explain what she didn't understand, so that she might catch up to the Academy kids her age faster. She wouldn't actually be allowed to go to school with them, but the Hokage had promised she could take the graduation exam at the same time. Her exam wouldn't be the same because she would have to demonstrate all the things the other children got tested in over the years as well, but if she managed she would receive a hitai-ate like everyone else.

Learning with Weasel was very helpful. He knew a lot of tricks the books never even mentioned. For example, when one was pretending to be a civilian it was important not to completely suppress one's chakra. That would make other shinobi suspicious because even people without training had a certain amount of chakra. Weasel was usually polite and friendly, sometimes he would even joke around or laugh with her, but under all that he hid a deep sadness. Chikako had asked about it once, but he'd told her not to worry. Apparently the information was classified, so he wasn't allowed to tell her, but it would be fine in the end.

She trusted him, he'd never been wrong before. So when one day - about three months before her ninth birthday - a note appeared on her desk that said to become strong enough to keep herself safe, she promised the empty room she would do whatever it took. It was the last time she heard from Itachi Uchiha.

The paper called it a tragedy. The Uchiha Massacre. The sad tale of a young prodigy who had snapped under the expectations of his clan, who couldn't handle the pressure and rebelled in the only way he knew how. Chikako had snorted derisively at that particular phrase. Murdering a whole clan was not something a rebellious teenager just did to cope with life. Especially not Itachi who hated nothing more than violence.

It was a little as if the journalists couldn't quite decide whether to mourn the loss of one of the founding clans at the hands of it's brilliant heir or whether to pity the boy himself. Apparently the Uchiha had been blamed, only in whispers of course, for the attack on Konoha and the death of the Yondaime Hokage a little over eight years ago. Chikako hadn't even been a year old at the time, so she didn't know what had actually happened and records on the matter were few and far between. Whatever the Uchiha did or didn't do to deserve their death, it was buried deep beneath a mountain of classified files.

One day, Chikako promised herself and Weasel, she'd be high enough in the ranks to uncover all the hidden truths. For now however she had to learn enough to become a genin.

. . .

Both Hound and Cat, as if in silent agreement, began visiting Chikako the day after Itachi was officially declared a nukenin. Cat, as was her habit, never said a word. Sometimes she'd nod in greeting when she passed Chikako and other times the ANBU would escort her home after a long day in the library. The visits were short and occurred in irregular intervals. The time in between lengthening over the course of a year until they stopped completely.

With Hound it was the opposite. He was silent and reserved at first. Never acknowledging that he was even aware of her presence. He just happened to be there whenever she got lost exploring the village or ran into people of dubious reputation. She knew better of course, was familiar enough with his chakra signature to notice it trailing her without even trying.

She made a game out of slipping the tail and then attempting to surprise him. The first worked often enough. Itachi's tips and her ability to sense and manipulate chakra made it quite easy. The second though was harder. It turned out Hound had some actual hounds and hiding scent when sneaking up on someone was a lot more difficult than getting lost in a crowd at the market.

The first time Chikako couldn't sense Hound for a whole month she'd been afraid he had grown tired of the game and decided to move on like Cat, but then one of his ninken had found her. A grumpy little pug - Pakkun was his name - let her know that Hound had been on a mission that landed him in the hospital. He'd also snuck out, which was apparently a common occurrence. The pug asked her to deliver some food because the dogs could only help so much and Hound was being a stubborn idiot. That was how she learned Hound's real name was Kakashi Hatake and that he could play dead quite convincingly.

Pakkun helped her break into the flat without killing herself by setting off any traps. He also explained that suffering from chakra exhaustion wasn't a rare thing for Kakashi, but that it usually wasn't quite as bad either. She lived in his flat for a week, getting food and keeping watch until he was strong enough to take care of himself again.

He never thanked her, just claimed he was an adult and could look after himself. He did, however, come to her flat instead of crawling into his own when he escaped the hospital the next time. One of his dogs also just happened to run into her whenever Kakashi would be gone for more than a handful of days.

Curiously enough, Hound, or any of the ANBU really, was one of the few topics Ibiki never brought up when they had lunch together. It was possible he didn't know how long they had been around, or in Hound's case still were, she supposed. Chikako had never been under the illusion that her flat being right next to Ibiki's was a coincidence. He had clearly been under orders to keep an eye on her as well, but those orders had only lasted for three months according to Itachi. Now when Ibiki asked how she was or if she needed anything it was because he wanted to know, not because it was his job.

The head of T&I wasn't as good a teacher as Itachi had been, but they managed. The first thing he made her learn was Konoha Standard. A simple encryption that wasn't classified. It could be used in many ways, for example tapped out as an audible code or written down as encoded messages. Ibiki insisted the best way to learn codes was to use them, so sometimes they would have whole discussions without saying a single word.

Kakashi thought it was too annoying when there was no actual information that had to be kept secret. His ninken indulged her though. The ones that couldn't speak the human language were more than happy to in fact.

. . .

On the nineteenth of January, the year after Chikako's twelfth birthday, it was finally time to take her graduation exam. Between the tips Itachi had given her and the lessons she managed to annoy out of Ibiki and Kakashi over the years it was surprisingly easy.

First they had her fill out a written exam and then prove her physical abilities. For the latter Chikako had to complete an obstacle course that involved anything from swimming, to running, with a little bit of climbing and using chakra to walk up walls sprinkled in. Judging by the face of the teacher who oversaw that test, she hadn't actually been expected to be able to do that last one.

Next was ninjutsu. For that she had to demonstrate hand seals as they were called out. Then she had to watch increasingly longer sequences, memorize them and repeat them back. At some point the teacher started using seals she had never seen before and the sequences got so long that she couldn't remember the end, that was when they moved on to the next test. Namely demonstrating Transformation and Clone techniques. Those were especially hard. Not because she didn't know how, but because wrestling her chakra into them always felt wrong. As if she was trying to force a somewhat oval ball through a round hole that was just a little too narrow. It worked in the end, but if she did it too fast or too often it would hurt. Nothing major in the beginning, just slight cell damage caused by chakra burn. It healed fast enough, but she knew from experience that it would get exponentially worse if she didn't rest long enough in-between using jutsu.

After ninjutsu came genjutsu. First she had to tell when she was and wasn't being influence by one. Or at least that had been the plan. In reality her own chakra reacted rather violently to foreign chakra in her system. Which meant that minor genjutsu, like the one she was supposed to spot, were dispelled almost before they took hold. If she didn't pay attention she couldn't even tell that someone had tried to put her under one. Stronger genjutsu she had to actively dispel herself, but because her chakra reacted to those as well she didn't miss a single one. The teacher gave up after a while and told her to perform a genjutsu instead. She had a feeling that was another one of those things he didn't expect her to be able to do.

He was almost right. Chikako knew just one genjutsu and even that only because Kakashi had used it on her a few dozen times, not because he had actually been trying to teach it. It was called the Hell Viewing Technique and made someone see their greatest fear. The jutsu only worked over short distances and wasn't particularly convincing because the fear just suddenly appeared, but it would do. Kakashi had used it on her to test her innate defense against genjutsu and to make sure she wouldn't suddenly go into shock or become violent if she saw something that reminded her of life as one of Orochimaru's experiments. The teacher overseeing the graduation exam - his name was Iruka Umino - didn't seem quite sure whether he should be happy or sad that she passed that test as well.

It confused Chikako a little. He'd wished her luck before they had started. That had been genuine as far as she could tell. Yet during the actual exam, whenever she did a little better than he expected, it made him uncomfortable.

Her last test was a sparring match, taijutsu only, against a different teacher. He didn't give a name, only said he specialized in training other ninja. The fight didn't go very well for her. It started out slow, but whenever Chikako landed a blow or dodged one of his he would speed it up a little. She had never been very strong, even with the help of chakra to augment her muscles, so the ninken had focused on making her fast instead. She could run with them for hours at a time, but this man was always a little faster than her. In the end she had to concede defeat.

They made her wait outside for an hour, presumably to look over her written exam. It was well worth it though. When Iruka opened the door again he handed her a hitai-ate - her very own! - and made her officially a shinobi of the Leaf.

. . .

Three days later Chikako found herself in an Academy classroom for the first time. There were twenty-nine other children, half of which gave her odd looks. They probably all knew each other, whereas she was an outsider. The new girl to join the class on the last day of school. She wasn't the only one being stared at though. There was a loud, blond boy in the room who had apparently failed the exam and then managed to graduate anyway. And after a while she noticed some people whispering about another boy at the back of the room. He was very pale and the smile on his face seemed oddly frozen in place. There was quite a bit of space around him and he seemed to be new as well.

"Do you mind?" Chako asked, pointing to the empty seat on his left. She wasn't about to make herself a nuisance if he preferred to sit alone, but there weren't that many free places to sit and most of the other children weren't nearly as calm as him.

"Mind what?"

At first she thought he was mocking her, but he looked genuinely confused, as if he really didn't understand the question, so she explained it to him. It was a little bit of a struggle. Apparently he took phrases quite literally and had never even heard of idioms. The boy, Sai, did know a lot about the rules and regulations though. Chikako appreciated the distraction, even if his behavior was a little odd. They were in the middle of a discussion about when braking a rule might be appropriate - never, according to him - when Iruka entered the room.

The teacher gave a little speech about what it meant for them to officially enter the shinobi force. He explained that they would be divided into three man teams and assigned to a jonin sensei. Some of the children looked surprised by that announcement, which was really weird considering in how many books Chikako had read about this policy. Konoha was practically famous for her focus on teamwork. Iruka didn't pay any attention to the reactions, instead he simply began to list the members of each team.

There were some big names among the graduates. Team 8 and Team 10 were actually entirely comprised of clan heirs. Both of Sai's teammates on the other hand had last names that didn't mean anything to Chikako. One was a boy with mousy brown hair that seemed completely unremarkable. The other was a girl who wore a red dress that clashed horribly with her petal pink hair. She - and most of the other girls really - had protested rather loudly when Chikako was assigned to Team 7 with one Sasuke Uchiha. They had calmed down a little at the announcement that the other member of Team 7 would be Naruto Uzumaki though. Not that Chikako had cared, she was way too horrified by the fact that Kakashi would be their sensei.

She liked Kakashi. Really. He was pack. He was the one who taught her about pack. But he was also a horrible teacher, who ascribed to a figure-it-out-yourself philosophy. Chikako had probably gotten more actual lessons from Pakkun than from Kakashi, and that pug was one cranky little dog.

. . .

A/N:

To those who are new here: welcome and thank you for reading.

And to those that have already read my first attempt at this story: welcome back, I hope you enjoy this version as well. As you might have noticed I have tried to change both the way I'm writing and a few things about the story itself.