A/N: muwahahahaha. 'tis finally finito!
enjoy.
:)
"Can you remember anything?"
"No."
"Can you try?"
"…My mother. She died."
"How old were you?"
"…I was…seven."
"Very good. How did she die?"
"…I…Something…killed her."
"Do you remember what?"
"………no."
"Let's try some basic questions. What is your name?"
"Takara Ohiko."
"How old are you?"
"Twelve."
"Where is your father?"
"Here. The Leaf Village."
"Okay. Are you getting along with your father's new wife?"
"My stepmom? Sure. We get along fine."
"That's good. Do you remember anything before coming to the village?"
"I just know my mother died. And my…brother…?"
"You sound unsure."
"I can barely remember. His name was…Hisoka."
"When was he killed?"
"Same night as Mother."
"I'm sorry for your loss, Takara."
"You don't mean it, so don't say it."
"…Alright, Takara. Are you sure you don't remember anything else?"
"Yes. I'm sure."
----------------
Takara opened her eyes slowly. She was moving. She looked around and her eyes widened. Correction. She was being carried.
"Itachi?!"
"Hello, Takara."
Takara stared at the Uchiha. He was carrying her in his arms, trees whizzing past them as he ran at incredible speeds.
"What the hell are you doing?"
He frowned. "That's not the thank you I pictured."
"I—you—huh?" she sputtered. "You—Did you—?"
"Yes, I saved you from Orochimaru's."
"But…How did you know where to find me?"
"I'll explain that later. Takara, we need to talk."
"Okay." Suddenly, she felt extremely awkward. "What do you want to talk about?"
"Us."
Her face turned red. "Us?"
"We shouldn't anymore, Takara."
"Shouldn't what?" Her heart began to sink. "What are you talking about, Itachi?"
He didn't look at her when he said, "It was fun, but we should end it now before it becomes anything serious."
"Fun?" she hissed, her heart thudding in her chest. "Fun?"
"That's all it was, Takara." Now, he smirked. "Just a bit of fun. Something to do. Missions get so boring, don't you think?"
Her mind raced. So it was true. Her suspicions had been correct. Itachi never cared for her. She was entertainment for him. Thank God she hadn't slept with him. Thank you God. What the hell had she been thinking? Why did she let herself fall for him?
She whispered something. He looked down at her in surprise. "Hm?"
"Put me down," she said a little louder. "Put me the fuck down!"
She flailed and kicked. When his grip on her tightened, she pulled out her senbon, stabbing it into his neck. His eyes widening, he dropped like a stone. She pushed away from him as they fell. Tears rushed to her eyes.
No. He can't die. Not like this. I don't care what he said, I won't let him die!
She reached out, grabbing his wrist with one hand and clutching a tree branch with the other. The branch broke, and they kept falling. Then, with a thud, she landed stomach-first onto a thicker branch. The air whooshed out of her. She pulled herself onto the branch one-handed, hefting a paralyzed Itachi up beside her. Then she sat with her back against the tree trunk and pulled her knees to her chest.
I will not cry in front of him. I will not.
She felt someone else's presence. Kabuto appeared in front of her. She hugged herself tighter. Then something occurred to her.
"Wait a minute," she said. "This is an illusion."
Kabuto looked at her. "Takara, calm down. Everything is going to be okay."
"It's an illusion. None of this is real." Takara barked out a laugh and whipped out a kunai, stabbing her thigh. Everything began to dissolve. "See? Illusion." She started to laugh again, a crazed laugh.
Everything was gone now, everything except Kabuto. He watched her, a sad expression on his face.
"Why?" she whispered. Her limbs trembled. The hand holding the kunai shoved it deeper into her leg. "Why won't you disappear like the rest of them?"
"Takara," he whispered. "What are we doing to you? You're losing your mind."
"Your fault," she said with a sudden smile. "You put me on something. Drugs, something. The same stuff you put me on to make me forget. The same stuff you put me on to mutate my chakra. That's why I left, wasn't it? Orochimaru was mutating me. Well, I've had enough. I want to leave."
"Takara, you're hurting yourself. Stop it."
"Why?" She giggled. "Why? I can't feel the pain right now. I won't be able to remember feeling any pain. And if I die, I won't have to go through this anymore. I want out, Kabuto. No more experiments, no more surgeries or mutations, no more drugs. I want out. You tell Orochimaru. I WANT OUT!"
"Release!"
-----------
Takara gasped, gulping a huge amount of air. She coughed a few times, sitting upright in bed. Her heart beat crazily.
"It's okay." Kabuto sat beside her bed, and he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It was another nightmare."
Tears streamed down her face. "Something's happening. There's a reason for these nightmares. Why can't I remember? Why don't I remember anything?"
Then she flinched. She brought her hand down to rest on her thigh, where a fresh, deep wound was sliced on her leg. Then she looked up at Kabuto, searching his eyes.
"Where did this come from?" she whispered. "This wasn't here before I fell asleep. When did I get this?"
"You tried to hurt yourself again—"
"WHY DO I KEEP ATTEMPTING TO KILL MYSELF?" she shouted. "WHY IS IT THAT EVERYTIME I FALL ASLEEP I WAKE UP WITH MORE WOUNDS? TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON!"
"I don't know, Takara," whispered Kabuto soothingly.
"What's happening to me?" she said, crying harder. "I feel like I'm losing my mind."
"I don't know, Takara."
"I don't want to go back to sleep," she whimpered. "Don't make me go back to sleep, Kabuto. Please, don't make me."
She covered her face with her hands and started to sob. Kabuto stood. Right before he exited the room, he glanced at the clock. She had been here for five hours. In her mind, she'd been here for weeks. That's why she was cracking so quickly. Lord Orochimaru made sure of that. Only a little more of this and she would break completely. And then Lord Orochimaru could reshape her.
Then the ruthless killing machine he'd lost 4 years ago would be his once again.
It was only a matter of time.
-----------------------
"Where is she?"
"I don't know who you're—gack!"
"I'm going to ask again. Where. Is. She?"
"I don't know, I really don't kn—"
SHUP.
He dropped the dead man to the floor, ignoring the spreading pool of blood. He stepped calmly around the others, daintily avoiding their slashed bodies. The blood had splashed against the walls at one point, which he regarded in a quiet, thoughtful manner. Then he turned, almost as an afterthought, and moved his hands twice. The entire hallway burst into flame, and Itachi Uchiha walked on.
-------------------
"Do you promise?" she whimpered.
Kabuto nodded. "I promise. All you have to do is hold out your arm and the nightmares stop."
She slowly unfolded her arm from around her legs. She held it out obediently and swiftly turned her head away, eyes squeezed shut. She reminded him of a toddler who disliked needles.
Is that what she's become now? he wondered briefly. The toddler she once was?
He stuck the needle in her arm. Her eyes opened for the tiniest instant, and then she gasped audibly as the world went black.
She blinks slowly. Her body is cement. She cannot move. She is standing perfectly still, surrounded by black.
Where am I?
She looks down at herself. She is not clothed. She stares at her body, the body she doesn't recognize.
Who am I?
Suddenly, the black is gone. She is in a small cabin-like house. It is night. A little girl with dark green hair is standing a few feet ahead of her. She can only see the girl's back. Next to the girl is a dark shape. An equally dark stain is spreading across the wood floor. The girl is trembling.
What's going on?
A woman is in front of the girl. Her eyes are those of the insane. Something metal glints dangerously in the moonlight streaming from the window.
"Monster!" screams the woman. "That's what you are! A monster!"
A cloud shifts in the sky, blocking the moon. The dark should provide enough cover to shield what happens next from view, but it doesn't. She can clearly see the yellow tentacle-like thing lashing out, she can see the spurt of blood, coming in a long stream from the woman's jugular vein. Then the clouds shift again, and the woman is lying on the floor by the dark shape, the floor is nearly covered in blood, and the tentacle, whatever it was, is gone.
The girl is coated in the blood of the woman, and the girl turns her head and vomits. Then the girl screams and screams and screams and screams. The girl sits there for a long time, tears streaming silently down the girl's cheeks. By the time the girl finally gets shakily to her feet, the blood has almost dried. The girl turns, stumbles, falls, and stands again. Her hair hides her face. The girl runs past her, and the girl's bangs lift just enough for her eyes to be visible.
They are the color of sea foam.
That was…she was…
She stands perfectly still, staring at the body on the floor. One step closer shows the dark shape is also a body. A young boy. His eyes are glazed. His head is not where its supposed to be, no, no. It's not on his neck, where it's supposed to be, no, no, no.
She, too, turns her head to the side and retches.
Hisoka.
The name comes suddenly, from nowhere, and she is afraid. Her legs start to move, and soon she is running after the girl.
The girl has stopped and is crying against a tree. A man approaches.
She skids to a stop, her heart pounding in fear.
Who is he?
The man touches the girl's shoulder and the girl whirls around, her eyes wide with terror.
"What are you crying for, little one?" the man asks.
She and the little girl both shiver. His voice sounds slimy.
Snake, she thinks suddenly.
The girl rubs her eyes. She says nothing, just hiccups. The man smiles.
"It's all right," he says. "Come here."
He pulls the girls in for a hug. The girl stiffens and takes as many steps back as she can.
"Don't come near me!" she shouts. "I don't wanna hurt anyone else! I don't…I don't…"
The girl breaks down again, hiding her face in her hands and shaking her head.
"I have a m-monster ins-side m-me," sobs the girl. "I just d-don't wanna h-h-hurt—"
"You're not a monster, my dear," says the man. "I know exactly what you are."
The girl looks up at him. "Wh-wh-what am I?"
He nods. "You're important, my dear. I'm going to need your help very soon."
The girl just stares. "Important?"
"Very important," the man says solemnly. "How about we make a deal?"
Slowly, the girl nods and wipes her nose on the back of her hand.
"I'll bring you somewhere you'll be safe," he says, "and in return, you'll owe me one." He smiles. "Alright?"
Again, the girl nods.
"Very good. Come with me, dear." He hold out his hand.
Just before she takes it, the girl asks, "Who are you? Where are you taking me?"
"My name is Orochimaru, and I'm bringing you to the Leaf Village," he says. "Now come, Takara."
The girl, Takara, takes his hand. Everything fades. The black returns.
Didn't ask, she thinks. Takara didn't ask how he knew she had killed that woman and the boy. She didn't even ask how he knew her name.
She is in front of a house. This house is larger than the other one. And instead of being in the woods, this house is in the middle of a town, it looks like. She sees the girl, the same girl, Takara. Takara is now a year or so older it seems. Maybe she is eight. Takara is sitting on the roof. A bird rests on her arm. Takara slips a small piece of paper into a container and attaches it to the bird's leg. The bird flies off. There is a set look on the eight-year-old's face.
Father is sending me to stay at the Uchiha residence during his and his wife's mission. What are your orders, Orochimaru-sama?
Those are the words on the piece of paper, she knows. Eight-year-old Takara is working for Orochimaru. Surely Takara does not know that such a thing is treason, punishable by death. Takara only knows what Orochimaru has told her.
"Takara!" calls a man in front of the house. "Come down, honey! Miyu and I have to leave soon for our mission. Let's get you settled at Fugaku's."
"'Kay, Dad!" she calls back.
Ignoring her father's concerned look, Takara hops down off of the roof and lands gracefully on the ground. She smiles childishly at her father, the previous look of seriousness abandoned.
"Come here," her father says. He hugs her tightly.
"Were you sending a message to your friend in the Grass Village again?" her father asks, smiling.
Takara nods vigorously.
Perfect spy. No one would suspect a little girl. Not with that innocent look. Not with that cute melodious voice, that solidly pure gleam in her eyes.
"Come on, dear," he says. "Let's get you over to the Uchiha's place."
She follows Takara and her father all the way to the Uchiha residence. They knock on the door of the main house and out steps Fugaku.
"Fu," says Takara's father. "Thanks again for doing this."
"Not a problem, Toshio." The leader of the Uchiha clan looks down at Takara. Takara meets his gaze shyly. "Itachi's been on a lot of missions lately, so his room is vacant."
Her father leaves.
"You don't like me," Takara says, almost sheepishly. Takara is almost expecting to be yelled at. Fugaku Uchiha frightens her. Her head hangs and then Takara mutters, "You're just like the rest of them. You think I'm evil."
He stares at her, saying nothing for a long time. Then he turns.
"You're the spitting image of your mother, Takara," he says over his shoulder. "I warned her and now I'm warning you: there are people out there who would do anything to obtain the power you wield."
Takara watches his back and waits until he has almost disappeared completely into the house and then she mutters, "I look like Mother, but she said that when I was born I had my father's eyes, and when I get older they're going to change back and I'm going to have black eyes again. Only she didn't call them black, she called them ebony. Ebony irises."
Fugaku stops, his back still to her. After a pause, he says shortly, "Toshio Ohiko's eyes are brown."
Everything fades. Takara is gone, Fugaku is gone. She is left alone.
Who could be the father, then? she thinks. If it isn't Toshio Ohiko, who is it?
It is raining. She is in a cemetery. She sees Takara again. This time, Takara looks about fourteen or fifteen. There is a stony look on Takara's face that she hasn't seen before. Her eyes, now a much darker sea-green, have hardened. Takara stares at the two coffins and says nothing. Fugaku stands behind her, his hands at his side. When the service ends, and when the people leave in a slow trickle until there are just the two of them, one of Fugaku Uchiha's hands comes up and rests on Takara's shoulder. He gives it a gentle squeeze.
"I'm an orphan now," Takara says in a monotone voice.
Fugaku stands there for just a moment more, then drops his hand and turns away from her. "You can stay with us, Takara," he says. "We have the space for you. Itachi's came back from his mission yesterday, but we have a smaller spare room."
Takara nods a little.
"Training is cancelled tomorrow," Fugaku continues softly. "I'll give you some time to cope—"
"No," Takara says coldly. "I want you to double the training tomorrow, Fugaku-sensei. Triple it." She blinks away the rain in her eyes. "I need to learn more jutsu."
"Alright, Takara. Alright."
A little boy with black spiky hair runs up to them and takes Takara's hand, pulling her along.
"Calm down a little, Sasuke," Takara laughs. There is no emotion in her voice, however. Her laughter is flat and fake.
Takara hasn't really laughed since she was six.
Fading…black returns.
Did Takara get to meet Itachi? she wonders. It didn't look like she'd met him before then. I wonder what he was like.
She is in the woods, now, sitting in a tree. From her perch, she can see the entire Uchiha complex. It is deathly quiet, even for this hour of night. She watches as Takara, looking the same as on the day of the funeral, slowly approaches the door of the main house.
I wish I was closer.
Almost instantly, she is standing beside Takara. She follows as Takara, with sudden urgency, whips open the door and dashes into the house. Takara doesn't take off her shoes, just keeps running. Running and opening and slamming doors until she opens the last one and—
She gasps, but Takara's face is unchanged. Takara's hands twitch at her side, but her expression remains the same as she regards the bodies of the man and woman who had housed her since the funeral. Takara moves her hand up, towards her face, and it looks as if she would wipe away a tear. Instead, the hand moves to Takara's neck and presses a button on the nearly-invisible headset.
"Lord Orochimaru? Kabuto? It's me." Takara pauses. "They're dead. All of them." There is silence while Takara listens to her headset.
Walking around Takara, she watches Takara's face twist into a frown.
"Yes, I'm sure, Kabuto," Takara snaps. "I'm staring at the bloody remains of Fugaku right now."
She ignores Takara for a moment, looking around the room and avoiding the blood-soaked bodies in the middle of the floor. Her eye spies a shuriken lodged in the door. She approaches it. There is a small piece of black clothing pinned to the wood by the point of the shuriken, and the tiniest bit of blood specks the weapon.
"No," Takara says, startling her. "No, he let Sasuke go alive." Takara's voice drops to a whisper. "I don't know why, but he let his little brother go alive."
When the world faded again and blackness returned, the moments became less in-depth. She was no longer watching them from a third party—she was watching them from Takara's perspective. It was as if she was Takara.
Am I? Am I Takara?
She watched from Takara's eyes as she hacked off most of her hair with a kunai in front of a mirror.
She watched from Takara's eyes as she walked down the street while people laughed and talked and gossiped. Whispers followed her as she walked, and when she turned the corner, almost running into a group of men, they parted like the Red Sea and went around her. They put as much distance between themselves and her as was possible.
It's like Takara has the plague. Some of them won't even look at her.
Through Takara's eyes, she hunted down and killed ninja in a land far from the Leaf Village. Through Takara's eyes, Orochimaru taught her a number of dangerous jutsu. Through Takara's eyes, she watched as she murdered a grand total of over a hundred ninja in cold blood, because it had been required in Orochimaru's plans.
Through Takara's eyes, she met a small blonde boy with blue eyes and a smile so bright and cheerful it was almost blinding. She watched as that same blonde boy sat on the swing outside the Academy on the first day, gazing at the other kids and their parents, all huddled together in a large, happy group outside the Academy doors. The boy's face was drawn in such a horrible sadness; there was no hint that he had ever smiled. Four women in the group glanced over at the boy unkindly and began their daily dose of hurtful gossip. Takara started towards the boy. She kneeled in front of him and smiled gently.
"Come here," Takara said, repeating the words that had been said to her so many times, "Naruto."
He just stared at her for a minute. Takara opened her arms and gestured, repeating herself. His eyes going wide, he launched himself into her arms, burying his head in her chest. Takara stared coldly over the boy's shoulder at the women gossiping. They caught her eye and quickly closed their mouths, turning instead back to their children. Takara released the boy and held him at arm's length.
"Have fun at school, Naruto," Takara said. "I hope you have a good day today."
Naruto nodded, enthusiasm returning. "I'll see you later, nee-chan1."
He ran off. Takara watched him, and, for the second time in just a few minutes, her soft smile was real.
"You're going soft, Takara."
"Yes," Takara replied wistfully. "I suppose I am, Kabuto. The boy seems to have that effect on people. Iruka even likes him."
Kabuto was leaning against the tree, hidden in the shadows. No one in that happy group could see him.
"I hope this village isn't too hard on him." She sighed with Takara. "The children are going to be especially unforgiving."
"He survived last year at the Academy, didn't he?" said Kabuto, shrugging. "Don't get too attached. It'll hurt when you leave and the more attached you get, the more pain he suffers."
Takara sighed again. "You're right, of course. Why must you be so damn logical?"
Kabuto smirked and said, "Isn't that what you love about me, babe?" Then the smirk vanished. "But you're the one who was dumb enough to form this friendship in the first place."
He means the friendship with Naruto.
"Maternal instinct took over," said Takara. "You're not a girl, you won't ever understand. That boy's got no one else. And now…"
"And now he's got you, an almost-mother-like figure who hasn't even turned sixteen, who is going to leave him hanging in about five or six months, who is going to emotionally hurt him so badly that he'll likely forget about you before he graduates."
Takara frowned. "Jackass."
"I know I am, but that doesn't change the facts: I'm right, you're wrong, and that boy is going to be alone all over again when you leave."
Takara was quiet for a while. She watched through Takara's eyes as the blonde boy ran joyously into the Academy, watched as a certain quiet black-haired boy walked behind the rest of the group, a scowl on his face.
"Maybe," Takara said. "Maybe not."
Then she was running. It was nighttime, Anbu Black Ops members were chasing her, the Leaf Village was almost a day's travel behind her, and she needed to lose the ninja before she reached Orochimaru.
She turned and threw four kunai, each armed with a paper bomb. The explosion felled trees, taking one ninja's life, and created a large smoke cloud. The other six ninja charged through the smoke in hot pursuit, and she met them halfway. The smoke crippled her enemies as she launched kicks and punches. Her goggles gave her improved vision, even in the thick smoke caused by the bombs, and she had soon incapacitated two more ninja. She executed two back flips to make it more difficult for the one sporting the sharingan, Kakashi, to see her hand signs. And then her body wavered, and slowly burned, and she was gone.
She reappeared nearly two-hundred yards away, and sped in the direction of Orochimaru's hideout with an almost hollow sense of triumph. Takara had successfully left the Leaf Village—and Naruto, and Sasuke, and the Third Hokage—behind.
-----------------------
Gasping for breath, Takara's eyes snapped open. Kabuto was still holding her arm, but now the needle was gone. She was drenched in sweat.
"Are you all right, Takara?" he asked
"So I really am Takara?" she said blankly. "All those memories were mine, then?"
Kabuto could have cheered. The drug had worked. She had remembered everything that she needed to, and now she was Orochimaru's again. But he held back his smile.
"Why don't you get some sleep now?" he said, standing. "We have a busy time ahead of us."
Obediently, she laid down on the bed. He left the room without another word, and, the second the door was closed, burst into a huge grin. The proof that it had worked was all in her eyes. They were no longer the dark sea-green that they had reverted back to when she was eighteen.
They were a solid, glistening black.
A/N: mkkk. what'd u think?!?? c'mon peeps, I NEED FEEDBACK!