-Rika's POV-

Blackness so strong and deep covered my eyes and in only a moment's time when the blackness had surfaced did I realize just what was happening to me, just what exactly had become of me. As strong as I was, and as powerful as I had became, if I could not see, I could not fight. It was one of the few rare weaknesses that I had. However, as my sight disappeared, my other senses grew stronger. In the blackness of the nightmare that had plagued me and covered me in a red flash of blood, I suddenly remembered of what had happened. That boy…the one who had attacked me had knocked me unconscious and left me to die. Or did he bring me somewhere? I sniffed the air, and the vague scent of roses and lilies did not drift to me, did not greet me. I was not in the hotel room, where a vase full of lilies would be lying, shattered into pieces after being hit over my head. The water of the lilies would be pouring out onto the white floor that was most likely tainted with my own blood…the blood that had never once been shed in years.

I had to be somewhat amazed and impressed with what the boy had accomplished. I was indeed impressed by what he had done to me. Not just anyone could catch me offguard, avoid them, and knock me unconscious by shattering a glass vase over my head. This was a task not easily accomplished, as many have tried to do me in and kill me, but all have failed. Except this one boy…he was something different. As if he knew how to strike me precisely and disable them before they got to him. I was…if mildly impressed.

A faint sound drove itself into brushing against my ear, and I felt a cold shudder run through me as I instantly recognized the sound. A soft, thumping sound that echoed shrilly through the silent darkness that blinded me. Dub-dub dub-dub. A heartbeat, but so much unlike the other heartbeats I have heard and felt as a moment of death quickly swept over my enemies. This one was slow, calm, relaxed, as if the possessor of this delicious rhythm could not fear me. It was not the boy's, as even as we clashed, his heartbeat raced from fear of quick death that I may give him. This one, though…it was fearless, it had nothing to fear, and through the constant rhythm of it, I could hear the breathing of the one who possessed it. A slow, sinister breath that was drawn only suddenly, and then released only a few moments later. I feared that whoever did not fear me may want to kill me…but I wouldn't let that happen.

Release!

"ARGH!"

My scream may have echoed through the darkness around me, but it did not echo in my mind. Something else did, something strong and horrible. Pain. Horrible, agonizing pain screamed through my head, and it was at once I realized what was happening to me. As the pain soared through my mind, it seemed to have flowed down my veins and into my body, consuming my limbs and torso like a fiery rage. I screamed again as the pain increased, and as soon as I calmed myself down, calming my own heart down, the pain subsided…for only a moment. There was still pain inside me, but not as strong…not as horrible.

"I wouldn't try to use the vectors, if I were you, my dear Rika-hime. The base of impact was at the base of your neck, where your chakra flows through your body and into your central nervous system. When you were hit, your central nervous system and chakra ventricles were paralyzed, preventing you from seeing, moving, and even using your beloved, transparent weapons," came a dark, sinister voice through the darkness. I shuddered as the voice broke through my mind, and I found myself shaking on the ground, even though I couldn't move. That voice…it sounded so familiar to me….

"Who are you?!" I demanded to the darkness, but I was unsure of where the response would come from. In front of me? Beside me? Behind me? Above? I couldn't even move my head to hear the response and determine where that person was.

"I have many names, Rika-hime, one is of being a Sannin, a powerful one of the three legendary shinobi," the dark voice spoke to me. I could hear footsteps approaching, deep, slithering footsteps that trailed on the ground. I winced as a cold, clammy hand slithered upon my face, gently clamping my cheek in its palm, and its fingers stroked my skin. So cold…."But you may call me Orochimaru-sama."

Orochimaru?! "No!" I tried to move away from him, trying to get out of this snake-demon's reach, but the moment I do, the horrible pain returned to my head, and I screamed out of torment, and somehow, I fell back into a solid wall, (or was it the floor?). I have heard of this man many times before, many times of when I was little and would overhear the Barrakage sharing with his beloved daughter and heir, Hotaru, the tale of the three Sannin, the three legendary shinobi that grew and trained in the Konoha village. Orochimaru was one of them, but not just one of them, but also the worst of them. Orochimaru was no man, but a monster who seemed to dedicate his entire life to learning and acquiring different jutsus and abilities. Sure enough, that was the only reason why he had…or needed me.

"Orochimaru, huh? Why is it that a powerful and evil shinobi like yourself is in need of the captivity of one simple kunoichi? Why is it you have to send out a delivery boy to come and knock me unconscious, and then bring me to you? Do I have something that you desire for?" I asked of the demon whose whereabouts remained unknown to me. I heard his laugh through the darkness, and the cold, clammy hand snaked its way back onto my face. He knew I couldn't move away, now. He knew I couldn't take the pain that would engulf me if I did. And here I thought pain didn't register to me.

"You surprise me quite a bit, Rika-hime. The fact you are not one to beat around the bush and to be so direct is quite a surprising benefit. Not to mention you are quite brave, and even now, when your sight, movement, and vectors have been stripped from you, you still show no sign of fear though you are sure to face death. I admire that in a young shinobi," Orochimaru hissed at me, and his laugh echoed once more in my ear. His cold hand moved forward a little, just enough to allow his thumb to cross over the corner of my mouth.

"Why be afraid of something you will eventually meet in the end? Why prolong something and be afraid of it when you can never escape it? Unlike most people who live their lives in fear and terror of death, I welcome it with open arms, awaiting patiently for the moment it takes me," I spoke coldly to him, but what I spoke was the truth. I had faced instances in my life when death was sure enough to be the result of it, but due to the fact I had faced these events so many times in my life, I was no longer afraid of the outcome, nor where I will go in the afterlife. Hell has nothing on what I live through each day….

"Quite a brave and intelligent speech you gave. To not be afraid of the one thing that is sure to come is quite clever, but why be afraid of something that can never come for myself? Don't you see, my dear Rika-hime? I cannot die, for each new jutsu I learn, I become immortal," Orochimaru argued, but the fact was, even though he tried to hide it, even though he seemed to mask it deep beneath his calm and relaxed heartbeat, I could hear the true fear in the deepest tone of his voice, beneath his throat, beneath his beating heart…all the way in the knotting and twisting bowels of his stomach.

"Yet…immortality is just a simple sign of cowardice towards death." I smiled at my own words, yet I could hear Orochimaru's sudden resistance and disagreement. He didn't believe so. He blinded himself to that fact, blinded and convinced himself otherwise. For a powerful and strong Sannin, he sure was foolish….

"Be cautious of your own words, my dear Rika-hime, for what you say can offend someone," his voice was different now. Colder, darker…more sinister. He was having fun. Thing was, though, I didn't seem to be, myself. The darkness seemed to grow deeper and colder with each passing second, and the fact his heartbeat seemed to echo through my mind made it worse. The faint pain was gnawing at the back of my mind, and I couldn't just plainly ignore it.

"Orochimaru, why is it you have to send a delivery boy to bring me here? What is it of me that you desire?" I asked of the snake-demon, getting straight to the point and trying to avoid any small talk that might come up and lead me astray of what I longed to hear.

"Well, you sure are a quick one, my dear Rika-hime. Very well, there is something about you that separates you from a normal shinobi. Strong as you are, and powerful as you may be, you have a weakness. That one thing that makes you so powerful may also make you a target for someone who desires to learn every jutsu there is needed to be known. Just take a wild guess, my dear," his voice hissed once more to me, and I felt a sudden cold brush along my lips.

It all seemed to come at once into me, the sudden realization of the reason why I was here, the sudden fear of why he needed me, why he kept me. If I could, if somehow the pain would subside within me and leave me be, I could show this so-called Sannin the real power that I have within. After all, all Orochimaru searched for was a way to use and acquire new jutsus. And although they were not a jutsu of any kind, they were a part of me, a part of my body, and they were formed by my chakra, and are used for my different jutsus. It was them that he was after.

"You mean...my...?" I couldn't even speak their name now. I was too afraid, as each time I tried and would speak the name that so many people have uttered, horrible images would come to my mind of a time not so long ago, but of a time that stroke fear into the hearts of many...including my own.

"That's correct, Rika-hime. Your vectors. They are weapons that no shinobi could ever imagine or ever obtain unless by pure bloodline of a certain family. The family that you had been born from," Orochimaru hissed a laugh towards me, his cold breath bouncing off my face. My family?! Could this man know of what place or family I came from? Could he honestly know who I really am? "Tell me, Rika-hime. How many are you able to control now? How far can you reach with them? Did they destroy the once innocent and childish lifestyle of a beautiful little girl? The beautiful little girl that you once were, Rika-hime?"

My body merely shuddered at his words. Perhaps it was the way he spoke them to me, or the way he seemed to use the one word that no one called upon me. "Rika-hime." How I despise that very name, as it seems to bond me to the family that had long ago forsaken me. The very meaning of it, "Princess Rika," gave me chills of hate and rage, and would force me to imagine ripping apart the very family that took me in. They never cared for me, they never saw me as what I truly was. No, the very man who claimed to "adopt" me, the very man who many had called as my "father," the Sixth Barrakage, was no more of a father to me than Hotaru was as my sister. That man I have hated since I could remember. Most of my memories, locked so safely in the deepest corners of my mind, were full hate, rage, and spite towards that man. He would call upon me into his chambers and speak to me as if I was merely a menace to him, and he would no more wish to see me live than he would wish to see his village destroyed. He saw me nothing more than a tool meant to be used, and everyone else in the village saw me as that. I was a monster to them, a creature born of darkness and raised out of the deepest pits of Hell. They all feared me, none respected me, and all about, people knew of me. I couldn't walk down the street to the nearest shop without people dodging into alleys, buildings, or go into hiding in order to avoid. I couldn't even look someone in the eyes and not see the hidden fear and anger that person would have for me, even when they didn't know me. So as I grew, I learned to pull away from the village, to pull away from my "family," and teach and live only among and for myself. So many times I've tried to distance myself from the Barragakure Village, so many times have I tried to separate and disown this Hellhole that I used to call a "home." Yet, each time I try to pull away, I somehow come back, and as much as I despise the village, I could not leave, for as hard as I tried to deny it, I had a deep-seeded bond there. I don't know what it was, and I honestly could not care what it was, but each time spoke the name, "Rika-hime," it would remind me of a village that I was chained to and would never be able to break free from.

"Well, unfortunately for you, Orochimaru-kun, you cannot obtain them, for they are controlled by both my chakra and my will. You have to have a strong enough will and mind in order to control them, especially if you have as many as my own, and if they reach to such a length," I spoke wisely to him, but the touch of his fingers against my lips made me think of something entirely different. Something he would have access to, for I could not move or see. I was nothing more than a vulnerable hostage to him, a hostage meant to be used like a tool.

Orochimaru laughed once more. Cold, so cold was his voice, dark and sinister, revealing the hidden motive beneath it. Orochimaru knew right away what I was thinking, what was going through my mind, and that was the sickest of all. The very fact he could predict me, the very fact he could know and understand me, and predict my very reaction to this. He didn't care about my safety or sanity, he cared more for them, more for power, than he would care for the survival of I or any others. He truly was a demon.

"As strong as you may be, Rika-hime, I know for a very good fact that you can only control nine vectors at a time, though you have well more than that. The strain on your mind and body is too great for a young woman to sustain, and even if you use two at their maximum length and speed, you would feel that strain and cause more harm to yourself than you would to your enemy," Orochimaru laughed. How was it possible he could know this much about me and them?

"How...how could you know so much about me?" I asked of the man before me, who held me in a tighter clasp of the face. He laughed once more, a darker laugh, and his hand slipped downwards towards my neck. This was the first time I felt how cold his fingers really were, how long and slithering they suddenly seemed.

His fingers snaked their way onto my neck, and firmly grasped me at the base of my neck, behind my throat, buried by my black hair. I winced slightly as his grasp tightened around me, and forced my head back. I knew that if I could see, I would be staring into the deep, lifeless pools of his eyes that revealed nothing but evil sins and thoughts. I could feel his cold, damp breath on my face, and I could sense the sudden hate and rage that had formed within his body. The way he held me...the way he suddenly seemed to have a firm hold on my body...it showed it all. He was getting annoyed, now, temperamental. I had apparently struck a nerve by interrogating and questioning his methods, instead of acting like a good little hostage. He forced my head back even further, and I knew that my throat was now completely revealed to him. If it wasn't for his hand on the back of my neck holding me, I would be in so much pain right now, as this would sure enough break my neck. All of a sudden, though, I could feel his breath on my skin, and my throat yielded to him, his breath gently grazing up to my ear.

"I had been watching you for a very long time, my dear Rika-hime. I know your strengths, your weaknesses, and the very things that make you so strong and the things that bother you so. You can't escape me or my eyes, my dear Rika-hime," Orochimaru laughed in my ear, and I gasped slightly as I felt him lower his face onto my throat. Just as the moment I felt his lips against my skin, an image of fear and horror came to my mind, and I reacted just as the way I should've.

"NO!"

Searing, horrible, agonizing pain succumbed through me as I tried to resist him, as I tried to break free from him. My body moved away from his grasp on pure instinct, but as I moved, the pain of my body returned, and added to it was the pain on the base of my neck as his nails scratched deep against my skin. I fell hard against something solid, the pain in my head increasing as I suddenly felt and heard a deep crack within my mind. I could hear Orochimaru grumbling in the deep darkness, the sound of his voice quickly fading away as I laid there, and felt the warm liquid of my own blood trickle down along my face. He only laughed at my agony, at my suffering, and for a moment, through the darkness, I felt my eyes sting from the pain and tears started to form, but I held them back. I would not allow myself to cry, not after so many years of preventing myself from crying. I would not allow myself to show weakness to an enemy. The law of the shinobi repeated in my mind, echoing harshly like a violent siren.

"The way of the shinobi is to be strong, keep the mission in mind and as the main priority, and don't allow yourself to be misled by your own personal emotions or opinions. No matter what, never shed a single tear."