The clammy numb feeling that greeted her like an old friend was the first thing she noticed.
The familiar tapping of water, as large drops of it fell from above, and splashed like an explosion, the only noise around her.
Her fingers twitched by her sides, feeling the jagged stony surface of the floor and cool of it. She knew what she would feel, every dip and hitch of it, before her fingers traced it.
Mamushi didn't need to open her eyes to know where she was. She wasn't surprised to find her surroundings blanketed in sinister darkness. And yet, her eyes were already accustomed to the sight, finding something both irking and comforting about this place.
The cold steel bars to her left, the only sign of civilisation (if you can call cage bars civilised), imbedded into the cold rock of the cavern. A small collection of ragged blankets covered a large plank of wood, on a slat towards the door from the uneven surface of the floor.
Mamushi pushed herself up to her knees, her purple hanging skirt fanning out in all its length at the back, the front only jiggering above her knees, the outside of her thighs bare, as only her purple leather belt held it together. She smoothed her dainty hands up her toned porcelain stomach, checking for any injuries, and had to blink at her chest.
The ivory talisman Kabuto gave her 'the gift of love' had come out from under her purple off the shoulder boob tube and rested silently on her bosom.
Though she was used to it, the chill of the cavern made her tremble and rub her arms. It seemed that her purple fingerless elbow length gloves didn't insulate much heat. To that the rest of her skimpy outfit did any better…
How did I get back here?
Mamushi rose to her feet, her arms hanging by her sides as she peered out of those cruel bars. Her Uchiha bangs and high pigtailed swayed with the movement, blending in with the darkness of the cell perfectly.
Did I even leave?
That could have been true. She could have dreamt the raid, getting taken to Konoha, meeting that old man with his will of fire talk, get put in team Kunoichi and meet Yoko-sensei and Koneko-chan.
Or Sasuke-kun.
Or Gaara-kun…
No, it was too real to have been a dream. And these clothes were proof of it.
Mamushi wrapped her pale fingers around the cold bars, golden eyes scanning the hall, which was already imprinted in the finest detail in her memory.
So she was back.
"…naze…?
"Nande?" Mamushi gasped, and pressed against the bars with wide golden eyes.
She knew that voice.
"Because, it's getting late for a little Hime to still be awake, that's why." And the chuckle that followed that, so tender, so warm.
Kabuto, no, a younger Kabuto, 14 year old Kabuto, chuckled as he walked right up to the door of the cell and pushed it open.
But stood timidly by his side, was a smaller version of herself.
She must have been 7 years old, from the way she had her hair brushed over her face, her oversized white tunic and black tights, purple obi ribbon and sandals.
Mamushi couldn't believe she was looking at herself, and felt so…
Ashamed?
Pitiful?
Close to tears?
Because deep inside her, that little girl still existed, crying silently in the depths of her scarred heart.
Wait, if that's me, and Kabuto's 14, then… Mamushi sighed, and watched as Kabuto led 'herself' into the cell. Then this is just a memory. Or a dream. She blinked. No, a memory. I think…I think I remember this…it's to vivid to be just a dream…
"Very well, Kabuto-sensei." Her younger self whispered and obediently walked over to her bed, and curled up, as of ordered to sleep.
From her perspective, Mamushi could see the heartbroken frown on her old sensei's face, the look of utter longing. Did he always look at her like that?
"…goodnight Mamushi-chan. Sweet dreams."
"I don't dream." Kabuto flinched, and stared at the back of the young girl.
Mamushi's bottom lip trembled, as she clenched her fists.
No, Gods no.
She always had nightmares, every night. But…not always. Years and years ago, she had dreamless nights, blissful compared to what she had now…
…but, if this was from her childhood, before she got the nightmares, then-
"Don't dream?"
"It's just…black." Chibi Mamushi curled up under her beloved rags and closed her teary golden eyes. "I never have any colour…"
Kabuto, obviously not knowing how to respond to that, pulled something out of his pocket, stared at it with questioning eyes, but only for a moment. The guilt that danced across his face increased, and he placed a small scroll by the side of the cage door.
It creaked closed, but oddly enough, he didn't lock it.
But he always locks the gate, it's his orders.
But he didn't. he left the door ajar and solemnly walked down the hall, and out of sight.
Mamushi immediately felt her heart racing and clutched at her chest.
"No…no…not that…don't let this be that day."
The scroll seemed to emit its own dark presence in the dingy little cell, it's tarnished pages wrapped tight, the middle binder a dark green.
She jumped, seeing her little chibi self stir and look at the scroll.
"Sensei must have dropped it…"
"NO!" Mamushi dropped to her knees between the scroll and her chibi. "No, don't even touch it! Please, don't!"
Mamushi shuddered as her younger self just walked straight through her, like a poltergeist, and tenderly raised the scroll from the floor, cradling it to her chest. "Put it down! Leave it!"
"The door's open…"
"NO!" Mamushi reached out, but her arm went straight through her chibi, and Mini-Mamushi just pushed the door open, and shuffled timidly down the halls.
Back then, she had assumed he had left the scroll by accident.
But now, she knew he'd left it for her.
She pushed that aside for now, her feet growing a will of their own as she followed her younger self down the hall and towards…
…her father's office.
Her heart was pounding in her chest, her lips trembling and for the first time in a long time, her eyes watering.
No, don't let this memory be what she thought it was, dear god no.
She soon skidded to a stop behind her chibi, as her younger self pushed open the door.
Everything changed, she swooned backwards, only to open her eyes from a much lover level.
No! I'm inside her! I'm going to have to relive it all again!
Flash back
Little Mamushi licked her dry lips, her tiny fingers fumbling over the course paper of the scroll in her hands.
She'd go in there, put the scroll on her father's desk, where it probably belonged, walk out, go back to her cell, and sleep.
She held the scroll to her chest with one hand, the other reaching out to push open the door.
But it stopped inches from it, multiple voices coming from inside.
"Gentlemen, there is no need to-"
"I don't know, maybe we should investigate personally. I mean, just your word alone won't satisfy the rest of the Akatsuki, 'Maru-chan." She heard a snide snicker, and an annoyed growl.
"You know I despise that pet name of yours Kisame." Mamushi covered her mouth with the hand not holding the scroll in an iron like grip. That sounded like her father.
"And yet, it never fails to amuse me, 'Maru-chan."
Who's Kisame?
Mamushi silently stepped close, letting one golden orb peer through a gap in her hair, through a crack in the door.
She could see the pissed off expression on her father's ghostly face, his nose crinkled with disgust, his thin lips peeled back over his teeth and his golden eyes were narrowed like slits. Mamushi had to stifle a gasp as she looked to the man he was talking to.
His skin was a pale blue, his dark hair spiked up and he wore a long black coat with red clouds swirling here and there. she could see what look like gills on his cheeks and his eyes were narrow.
He reminded her of a vicious shark…
Is that Kisame?
"Door." Mamushi froze, hearing a third voice from the room, and the door was wrenched off its hinges before her.
Both hands clasped at the scroll to her chest, her breath shaking jerking past her lips, her horrified features hidden by a lank veil of dark navy black hair.
Intense onyx eyes bore into her over a high collar of an identical black, red cloud trench coat to 'Kisame', dark navy black hair tied back in a low ribbon, but thick bangs hanging forward at each side of his face. They were parted, framing a metallic Haiti-ate with a foreign insignia on it. It looked very much like the leaf protector she caught Kabuto wearing now and then, except this one had a large line cutting through the centre of it.
There were lines running from the inside of his eyes and beneath them, brining your gaze directly into his chaotic coal, cold eyes.
The same eyes, that pierced through her.
"Who's there Itachi?"
"A child." His voice was like a cold blade, used only for it's purpose of lashing out, or making a 'point'.
Mamushi, frozen in place, watched as 'Itachi' turned to Kisame and her father. She assumed he must have had an inquisitive expression on his face, as her father answered a question.
"Just a servant girl." Mamushi felt her father's words lash out and slice into her chest, cold and impersonal.
Father…
She was stunned, her lips trembling behind her hair, her golden eyes watering at her father's abnegation ripped through her, making it hard for her to suppress a heartbroken whimper.
Had she not been so distracted, she would have noticed the intense gaze she was receiving from Itachi.
"For a servant girl…she resembles you." Itachi lowered to one knee before her, but didn't appear friendly or gentler to her in the slightest. He now had her attention, though she bowed her head forward submissively, remaining silent.
Of course, her father was ashamed of her. He hadn't acknowledged her as anything more than 'it' all her life. Why should he start now?
"Please, Itachi." Orochimaru smirked snarkily. "Try not to insult me because this child has long hair. I know you find it an aspect to pray upon, but offend me with originality, rather than cheap shots involving a bastard runt." He cackled, and Kisame also chuckled, finding it amusing.
But Itachi wasn't laughing.
"Part your hair." It was a few moments before Mamushi realised that he was talking directly to her.
Only Kabuto directly addressed her.
"…me?" her voice was quiet, uncertain. If he hadn't addressed her, she could be beaten for disrespect.
"Hai. Part your hair."
"What the hell are you doing here anyway? I didn't send for you." Orochimaru snarled, pushing up from his chair angrily and glaring at her.
Funny that. He usually never looked at her.
Did he like what he saw? Or was he disgusted?
From the way his thin lips peeled back over his teeth again, scowling, it was the latter.
Mamushi gasped and stepped back, to run to her cell, but a fist grabbed the front of her tunic, and yanked her off the ground.
Itachi walked calmly back inside the office, closed the door, and gently lowered Mamushi to sit on a side desk.
Her father's office was also his laboratory's display room, where he could gaze at his horrific creations with pride in pickled jars and slates.
But luckily for her, this desk was clear, and her rump landed on it, and not as carelessly as she had been expecting.
Itachi fixed his onyx eyes on her, and placed a firm, threatening hand on her shoulder.
Oh boy, she was in deep trouble now. She even started shaking in fear. These were obviously very important people to her father, the way he was squirming from their intense presence.
And she wasn't stupid. He wouldn't want anyone 'important' finding out about his bastard runt, as he called her.
She still held the scroll, but in shaking hands on her lap.
"Name?"
"Mamushi." She barely remembered to bow her head, too busy peering out of her hair at the fist on her front.
"Female?"
"Hai."
"Last name?"
"I don't have one."
"Age?"
"7." She didn't dare refuse him anything he asked. Under that coat, he would no doubt have his own arsenal of weapons, and those eyes seemed to be lethal all on their own. If she was an associate of her father's, he wouldn't be toying with her like the lower ranking Shinobi under her father's rein.
From what she observed, these men were independent, or at least equal to her father, the way they were allowed to question his actions without fear of punishment.
"If you want someone to play with, Itachi, I could-"
"How long have you been here?"
"All my life." Her father was getting more and more on edge, actually walking over to them. With the fire and desperation in his eyes, she knew he was going to silence her, now. By any means necessary.
"Do your parents work here?"
"I…" Mamushi lost her voice, trembling so much, it was an effort to keep breathing, her eyes so wide, so watery with tears.
"Who is your father?" Itachi pressed, his grip on her front tightening and his tone getting more and more insistent and dark.
"I don't-"
"Itachi, if you're so interested in my staff, then I can answer all your-" Kisame held a very large, very nasty looking Sanbato between her father, and Itachi.
So, Kisame and Itachi were in league with each other. He was certainly loyal to his partner.
Mamushi gasped, as Itachi brought his free hand to her face, and slipped his fingers through the guard of her long hair. He whipped it off her face, and tensed.
Those pools of insensitive black cruelty widened, wavering with utter shock at what he saw.
The entire room went silent, Kisame curiously watching the scene, Orochimaru tense with panicking anticipation, and Itachi, numb with disbelief.
He stared down at her cute round face, big golden eyes with black slits for pupils, the biggest give away of who her father is, but more importantly…
The shine of her eyes, the way she parted her lips as she waited for him to take his next move…her soft texture and colour of her hair…
It wasn't lank and black like Orochimaru's, but slender, and had a navy sheen to it.
Just like-
"Who is your mother?!" He spat, gripped her hair on her head in a fist, forcing her to crane her head back. she dropped the scroll and lifted her hands to his wrist, cringing and wincing in pain. His other hand jerked on her front, shaking her threateningly. "Who is she?!?" Orochimaru pushed Kisame out the way, but he just stepped right back into place, being a living barrier.
"That's not-"
"Mioko Uchiha."
The silence that followed that was unlike any other. And Mamushi was used to silence.
But this was far more than annoyance or bitterness.
This was murderous rage, and sickening fear.
She squirmed, sensing murderous intent rise all around her, and the grip on her hair and front loosened.
Mamushi whimpered, tears slugging down her porcelain face, as she tried to pull her hair back forward.
Her father always told her she looked hideous, but she never thought she could make someone react like this.
Was she that ugly?
She cried even harder, and racked her hair back over her face, brining her knees up to her chest and hugging them on the desk. She trembled, and couldn't care less what they thought of her misbehaviour. Maybe if they killed her, she could finally dream, and have a happy family in the afterlife?
Maybe her mother would welcome her there with open arms?
"Mioko…Uchiha?" Itachi straightened up, his eyes closed at first, but he opened them stoically upon her.
"h h h hai." She stuttered through sobs, and jumped out of her skin when cool hands cupped her face.
"Uchiha?" His voice was softer than before, and it encouraged her to lift her head from her knees. He smoothed her hair from her face again, despite her protesting wriggles, and held her face still, so he could look over her with such eyes, such torrential eyes that it froze, confused and hypnotised by them.
"Silence child!" Orochimaru spat, but found himself face to face with Kisame.
"I knew our leader was right to suspect you. You knew this would happen, ne? That he would send someone after you to find out what you were up to? I'm just glad it was us." Kisame smirked his disfigured features, and licked his lips. "I'm just glad I'll be the one to gut you like a fish, and not Sasori. He wouldn't enjoy it as much as I will."
"No." Itachi spat over his shoulder, but didn't leave her. "He's mine." Kisame seemed shocked, blinking back at him.
"That's unlike you, Itachi. I thought you only killed when absolutely necessary. You usually let me do the dirty work." Itachi straightened up again, and still held one of her pale cheeks one with hand, not fondly but…longingly. "I understand he raped an Uchiha to do that, and we all know what for, but-"
"It wasn't just an Uchiha." Itachi cut in coldly, letting his hand drop from Mamushi's mystified face. "Mioko Uchiha was…my aunt. The only Uchiha I loved." With a furious ripple of his robes, Itachi turned to face a snarling Orochimaru, his eyes bleeding into red pools.
The Sharingan. "She was reported missing just over 7 years ago. Just enough time to give birth to Mamushi, am I right Orochimaru?"
"I can explain, Itachi. She was a mistake, she isn't-"
"So you accidentally raped the only person I held dear to me?" Itachi hissed, and pulled his collar open. He slipped one arm out the front of his coat, the other appearing out of the sleeve with at least 4 shuriken in his fist.
Mamushi watched, as both Kisame and Itachi lowered, ready for battle, as her father stepped back, and brought his hands together.
"No, stop him!" Kisame launched forward, but, a Sanin for a reason, Orochimaru vanished in a puff of smoke.
Kisame flew out of the door, leaving Mamushi, stunned on the desk, and Itachi staring over his shoulder at her.
"Your name is Mamushi Uchiha. You are an Uchiha, never for get that. You're mother…she would have wanted you to remember that, and take the name of her clan."
"…are you my-"
"By blood I am your cousin, but I will never be family to you." She watched him clench his fists by his sides, struggling with himself.
Little did she know, he was fighting with whether to leave her, or stuff her under his coat and take her with him.
Mioko Uchiha had been like the mother he never had, his own mother never understanding him, or knowing how to talk to him.
When she went missing…presumed dead…he changed.
And all this time, the whole reason for her vanishing was sat on a desk, an arm reach away from him.
He was so livid, he could slit her throat for the death of his beloved aunt.
But she was his own flesh and blood, the child of the only person he ever loved. Was she like her? Was she quiet, but misleadingly loving, understanding, quick witted and wickedly skilled?
Would she be…could she be…
He raised his eyes from the floor, and watched that pathetic waif of a child tremble on the desk, hugging her legs, unable to understand what just happened, why, what to do next…what would happen to her…
"…you knew my mother?" He visibly flinched, old wounds stinging under the surface.
"Once, in another lifetime." He looked to the side, and noticed the scroll she'd been holding onto all this time. He picked it up, confident that Kisame would apprehend that bastard, maybe beat him around a bit, but respect his demand to be the one to kill him.
As a final tribute to Mioko Uchiha, the first piece of his heart to break, and the last piece for him to release at last.
His fingers pulled open the scroll, and his eyes widened.
Mamushi slid off the table, looking towards the door, and contemplating running after her father.
Father is really strong. They couldn't hurt him, right?
"Mamushi." His voice snapped her out of her contemplation, and she blinked up at him. She gasped softly, his hands feeling so foreign to her face as he wiped away her tears. The last bit of tenderness he would allow himself. "Do you know what this is?"
"No…I was just returning it, I didn't mean to-"
Fwhip
He opened up the scroll before her, and all she could see was the dark crimson kanji of a name she knew all too well. Why is father's name on this scroll like that? Is that…blood?
"The least he can do is give you some useful inheritance. And the chance to proudly sign your name upon a high summon scroll."
"Nani? Summon scroll? I don't understa-ah!" Itachi rolled the scroll out on the desk and grabbed her right hand, yanking her over to it.
"You will. Cut your finger."
"Nani?! No! I-"
"Do it, or I'll cut you." Itachi narrowed blood red eyes on her, and she whimpered. Three black tears swirled around a fathomless black pupil, whirring, and Mamushi suddenly felt quite faint. She yelped, her own hand rose before her of its own will, and palm up to Itachi. He pulled a kunai from beneath the coat, letting a slither of Ninja meshing and his sculpted shoulder into the visible, before hiding it again. He placed the kunai in her hand, and her other one immediately jerked up.
"What's happening?!?" She sobbed, and stared up at him, golden eyes wide and terrified. "Stop it!"
"No." Mamushi tried to pull away, thrashing her head back and forth, but her feet wouldn't move either. She winced, as her rebellious hand sliced at the palm of her left, deep and true, her own blood pooling in her palm, dark crimson tainting her ivory skin. The kunai clattered to the floor, and Itachi took her index finger of her right hand with his, and grabbed her left hand with the other, holding it steady near the parchment. "Hold still!"
"NO!" She kicked at his shin, and he snapped his head at her, eyes wide.
How did she move whilst under the Sharingan's hypnosis?
He then smirked, and nodded.
She was an Uchiha, she had more of a defence against the Sharingan than anyone else, and could possibly learn to use it too.
Now that, would be to his advantage in the future…
Mamushi whimpered, as he forced her right finger into the bloody palm of her left, swirling plenty onto it, and hovered it over the paper.
"Can you write your name?"
"H hai."
"Then write it, and I'll stop your suffering." Mamushi paused, feeling control of her limbs return to her, and looked up at him. Her heart was thundering rapidly, hammering against her ribs and heaving chest as she hyperventilated.
For a moment, she paused, contemplating refusing and trying to escape again.
But…
She looked at he scroll, her father's name staring at her, daring her.
To put her name next to her father's…it was like confirmation that she was his daughter, and no one would be able to deny it.
Before she knew it, she'd already traced half her name out in blood, Itachi watching her do it intensely, with a slight quirk to his lips.
He waited until she finished her name, 'Mamushi' in bold red kanji on the old paper, before grabbing her hand, and forcing more blood onto her finger.
"I did it! I wrote my name!"
"Not yet you haven't." Mamushi struggled at first, until she saw what he was writing. Her struggling stopped, and she stared at the scroll.
Orochimaru.
Mamushi Uchiha.
Uchiha… "You are an Uchiha by birthright. Just…pray we never meet again." At least not for a few years… Itachi released her hand, and finally allowed her to nurse the gash to her palm.
"Why?"
"Because it is my right. This is my last act as the head of our Clan." He slowly walked away from her, buttoning his collar up to hide the lower half of his face once more. "Another shall now take my place…"
Mamushi watched him leave her there in the darkness of her father's office.
She stared at the scroll, wondering what the hell it was. And why that intense man had made her sign her name on it, in blood of all things.
And she thought she would never know…
They soon moved to another head base, with far more security than before, but still near to the sound village. And Mamushi…
…she couldn't get out of her raggy bed for a month…
After her father had moved them all to a new location, after battling and escaping his fellow Akatsuki members, he left the organisation for good, and then…took out all his anger on her.
But not directly. He gave his men orders to beat her every day for two weeks. Kabuto had to furiously heal her every day, spending all his Chakra, only to be punished himself that very night for assisting her. But the next day, he would do it all over again, and gladly. She was, after all, the only joy he had in his life.
Fast track, one year later.
"Concentrate Mamushi-chan! If I hit you, it will hurt. I will not hold back on you."
"Hai, sensei." Mamushi flipped back onto her hands, spinning her legs round and kicking a kunai out of her 15 year old sensei's hand. She then snapped her hips, landing back on her feet with a slight skip, and whipped two kunai out of her back pouch, one in each hand. Her sound Haiti-ate was tied around her arm, her long hair still over her face with the slightest slip of a gap in it for her to see.
But she didn't rely on sight alone in any situation.
Sweat was beading across of her forehead, making her hair cling to her face slightly, her back and chest damp with perspired effort. She was panting, her arms and legs heavy and tired, but she held her stance, holding her kunai with the blades pointing down from her pale fists, her arms crossed over her front. One golden eye peered out of her hair, narrowed on her sensei, her feet at shoulder's length apart, vertical to her body.
Kabuto was still wearing his blue jump suit and bandages, shining round glasses and his dark silver hair tied back of his face, his bangs hanging at either side of his sound Haiti-ate over his forehead. He smirked, bringing his hands together and forming furious hand signs.
Mamushi tensed, and jumped back quickly.
She hated when he used Ninjutsu, it always resulted in her hitting a wall at top speed, breaking some random bone or rib, blood rising to her mouth, and dizzy like a bitch. He was always tender with her, except when they spared. It had been like this for the last year, when he collected her from her father's office after she was first exposed to Itachi, the star Akatsuki Shinobi.
And her cousin.
Kabuto had done something, or traded something, and gotten permission to train her as his pass time.
In truth, he'd seen her name on the summon scroll and learned of her heritage (from the last name), and immediately worked to get her to take the Genin exams. It wasn't easy, but every day he'd make her hit the books until dinner time, then beat her into the ground, training into the late hours of the night.
She didn't mind. After a year, it was just a part of her routine.
And she preferred it to the shadows of her cell…
"Shosen no Jutsu!"
Crap! Mamushi hated when he used the mystical palm technique. Normal Medic-nin used this technique, as she learned from her studies, to cut the skin open and carry out surgical operations on a patient's tissue and organs, like a scalpel. Kabuto used it to slice open the opponent by using highly focused Chakra flowing out of his palms to make his hands into virtual blades.
Although she knew he'd heal her afterwards, that wasn't the point. Being gutted wasn't exactly pleasant, and he would always scold her when he got her.
And he always did.
He was too good for her, and she knew it.
Last time he almost got her neck…and refused to train with her for the rest of the day, fussing and worrying over her. It was obvious it had been a mistake, and he'd unnerved himself by doing it.
But she just turned up in the training hall the next day, as per usual, and said nothing of it.
So he didn't either.
Mamushi popped her hips backwards, falling into the crab as he swiped out for her. She then used her backward leverage to kick her feet up and smack him in the jaw, pushing him back, and giving her more distance.
"You need to learn a Jutsu, Mamushi. Every Shinobi needs to use a Jutsu, or you're a walking target." He smirked, wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth.
Mamushi frowned behind her hair, knowing it was true. But she couldn't particularly grasp a Jutsu of her own. She had these strange daydreams…and she knew the theory of different techniques, but Kabuto was too busy doing missions for her father to stick around and go step by step with her through any of them.
But on the other hand, her Taijutsu was excellent, as she didn't need him to do much to help her with that. And fighting him like this was all the practise and training she needed.
But her other areas were lacking…
"Don't daze out!" Mamushi yelped, side stepping out of the way from his slicing jab, only for her arm to bleed.
He'd just skimmed her, but that wasn't the point. He'd gotten her, because she wasn't focusing. "Mamushi, I could have killed you if I were your enemy." He snapped, charging at her once more.
"Gomen, sensei. I didn't mean to daydream, honest! I just-" She couched down as he swiped for her again, grabbing his shins and yanking them from under him. But he locked his legs around her waist as he snapped backwards, and pulled her down with him. "Ah!" Before she knew it, he had his legs locked around her like a pretzel, her face against his stomach, and her eye looking out of her hair, gleaming with the reflection of his blue Chakra powered hand. He held his crackling blue hand barely inches from her nose, and frowned.
"Don't apologise now. Do it after the fight."
"Hai Kabuto-sensei." Mamushi squirmed, and grabbed onto his shoulders, pulling herself up his body and out of his leg lock. Just when she was going to push up from his chest, a Chakra free hand held the small of her back, and held her there. His other hand ran back through her hair, and pushed it behind her ears. Mamushi blushed as he smiled so warmly up at her, his eyes bright and his fingers tenderly brushing her pink tinged ivory cheeks.
"You are really getting prettier every day, Mamushi-chan." She gulped, and looked away.
Any other girl would have beamed, finding that a compliment.
But…Mamushi knew it was a lie. He was the only one who told her she was cute and pretty. Everyone else on the base called her disgusting, revolting, a piece of trash, and many of them kicked her in passing, jeering as they continued on with their lives.
She knew she was ugly.
But…it was nice to hear Kabuto say she wasn't.
But it was still a lie.
However, she replied, in the same way she always did.
"Arigato, sensei." Kabuto frowned, knowing she didn't believe him, and tried to get her to look at him again.
"It looks good on you, your Haiti-ate." He looked to her arm, pride filling his chest. He knew she could do it. And at 7 too! So young, so skilled. Well…she was a cut above the other Genin here anyway. Her Henge was good enough, her Taijutsu was amazing, but her other techniques…needed work.
"You always say that, sensei." Her voice was quiet, void, as usual, and she patiently waited for him to release her, as usual. He liked to hold her, whenever he could, and she couldn't deny the only one who looked at her.
"Because I always mean it, Mamushi-chan." He chuckled, and leaned up, nuzzling his nose with hers, and made her blush.
She always did when he became intimate with her.
Speaking of intimate…she was laid ontop of him…pressed pleasantly against him…
Kabuto blushed, thinking the same thoughts as any 15 year old boy would about a pretty girl laid on his front. And she was pretty, when she didn't have her hair hung over her face.
Which was most of the time.
He blinked behind his glasses, leaned his head back, and looked towards the door.
They were actually alone, all alone.
No one would see…if he just…if he just…
Mamushi yelped, and soon found herself tossed to one side, with Kabuto quickly crouching over her.
"Sensei?"
"Shhhh, Mamushi-chan." He whispered, his eyes gleaming with something she didn't recognise. He winked at her, and nuzzled her nose again. "You are so cute when you blush like that."
"Arigato sensei. I-" He dipped down, brushing his cheek with hers.
Yes, as shameful as it was, Orochimaru was right. Kabuto wanted Mamushi all to himself. He had resisted kissing her for so long…
"Shhhh. Thank me in a minute, Hime."
"S, sensei!" Mamushi squirmed, not liking this part of their training, and couldn't understand how this strange grappling could be cause to be thankful. His teeth were nipping at her neck, his hands were gripping at her tunic, fisting it and groping her sides. He kept trying to wedge his knee between her legs, but she wouldn't let him. Mamushi pushed her hands up onto his chest, and turned her head away from him. "Sensei, what are you-"
"Kabuto-kun, I think you are taking your leisure time a little too seriously outside of the bedroom." That snidely chuckling, arrogant voice made them both freeze. Kabuto snapped his head up from her neck, staring like a rabbit caught in the headlights, at the master of the rudely interrupting voice.
"Orochimaru-sama." Kabuto scrambled off Mamushi, bowing before the black haired, black hearted Sanin.
Orochimaru had only been passing, when he saw Kabuto molesting Mamushi. Before he knew it, he'd walked straight into the training hall. "I was just-"
"Experimenting? I understand." He chuckled darkly, and smirked. "But, Kabuto-kun. If you needed that sort of assistance, I would have helped you, ne?"
Mamushi was on her knees bowing submissively behind Kabuto, and could see him immediately tense through her hair, as her father advanced on him.
Kabuto revisited the urge to shudder, as Orochimaru placed his hand suggestively on his head, stood before him so Kabuto's head was level to his groin.
Mamushi gasped.
Orochimaru was looking at her. At her!
He may be touching Kabuto's head and stood before him, but his gleaming golden eyes were focused on her rejected, dejected daughter. What she didn't realise, was her hair was still tucked behind her ears, and her father was actually unable to look away from her, even as Kabuto apologised.
"Forgive me, I didn't-"
"I have a mission for you." He made a fist in Kabuto's hair, making the boy wince and get to his feet quickly. "You will leave, for 3 months, to scout the border for any word of the Akatsuki swine who are looking for me."
"Three months?!?!" Kabuto snapped, only to slap his hand over his mouth, eyes wide with disbelief that he had dared to complain.
Mamushi saw it, the rage flicker through his golden eyes like madness, both torrent orbs locked with hers, as he used his grip on Kabuto's hair to throw him down to the floor. Mamushi flinched, and gasped softly. When Orochimaru raised a brow at her, she threw herself to the floor, still kneeling, but her forehead touching the floor and her arms out before her.
Mamushi had to listen and stay perfectly still as her father kicked Kabuto in the stomach over, and over, and over again. Each wrenching groan, each time he coughed and spat blood out of his mouth, the smash of his glasses on the floor, she heard it all. she didn't need to see it, to see it.
Each sound echoed through her, her mind creating the scene in her mind.
Kabuto was curled on his side like a foetus, she could see it, his face contorted in pain, her father's wicked scowl wide and dark, insanity dancing in his golden orbs, and his foot imbedding itself in the poor boy's torso, relentlessly. His lanky black hair swaying like a chaotic poem, his ghostly white skin flawless, even as his face twisted with rage. He was hardly using any Chakra or any effort at all, and yet he was inflicting the maximum amount of damage with each blow.
Each time she heard Kabuto whimper and sob, desperately biting at his own lips to stop himself, Mamushi saw her mind's image of him forming the noises with swollen lips. She felt tears stream down her cheeks, mixing with her sweat and hair, falling to the floor beneath her. Her fingers curled on the floor, and she hitched a breath in her throat.
And then it all stopped.
Absolute silence met her ears, and despite herself, she raised her head to look through her hair.
Kabuto, oddly enough how she imagined him, was curled up on the floor like a bruised baby, and her father was staring wildly to the side.
As Mamushi slowly turned her head to the left, she gasped.
A mirror image of her father and Kabuto played out the beating, symmetrical and identical in every way.
Just like she'd imagined it.
"Genjutsu…" Mamushi looked back to her father, eyes wide, as he looked once again at her vulnerably revealed face. "…you're a Genjutsu user." Kabuto forced his head to lift from the floor, already using his dead cell regeneration technique to heal himself, and came to the same conclusion as his master. The mirage vanished as soon as Mamushi yelped and crawled backwards, her father advancing on her. "How long?!" He whirled round, close to Mamushi, but glaring down at Kabuto.
"I…" Kabuto croaked, pushing himself to sit up, though his ribs protested. As did the rest of his battered body. "…didn't know she could…do that…" Orochimaru turned, looking down at 'it' with confusion.
His first Jutsu was Genjutsu.
And what a vivid Genjutsu that was!
But as he looked down at that quivering child, her hands pulling her hair forward and bringing her down to bow before him once more, he sneered.
Strange, how a little thing like seeing her big bright eyes and innocent facial expression could affect him so. But now, it was just an it again.
"Hn. Tomorrow morning, you leave, for 4 months."
"…hai…sensei…"
Orochimaru seemed reluctant, but he turned his back to them both and left them, but not before adding one last thing in the doorway, before vanishing.
"You are to remain a virgin for me, Kabuto-kun."
"Hai, sensei."
As soon as he was gone, Mamushi bolted towards her sensei, sobbing hard and pulling at him to sit up.
"S s s s sensei!"
"Well done, Mamushi-chan." He winced, holding his left ribs and pursing his lips in pain. "I knew you could do it."
"Do what? Sensei, let me get you to the medical lab, they can-"
"I would have never taken you for a Genjutsu user, Mamushi-chan." He chuckled, only to cringe from the rippling consequences it had on his sore ribs. But he smiled regardless. "Usually Taijutsu users aren't very good at Genjutsu. Or Henge, for that matter. I knew there was a reason why you picked that up right away."
"I just imagined what you told me, sensei." Mamushi's hands trembled on her lap, her throat dry.
Her father had looked at her. And he had almost talked to her.
Imagine that, her father talking, physically addressing her without a shadow of a doubt…
She yelped, when Kabuto put his hands on her tiny shoulders, and beamed a lopsided smile. his lips were swollen from biting them, dark blood trickling out of one corner of his mouth.
But he still smiled at her, even after all that, he still smiled.
"Then that's the key, Mamushi. Imagine. You said to me once that you don't dream." Mamushi blinked, but nodded. "Maybe you do dream, but while you're awake. But you're dreams are better than normal dreams. Your dreams can come to life." Kabuto shifted, wobbling as he got to his feet, Mamushi supporting him under one arm he draped over her shoulders. "Genjutsu is the use of Chakra, and when used on the opponent's nervous system, it creates an illusion. It's basically an advanced intellectual Ninjutsu." Kabuto wavered, and Mamushi had to push him forward, to keep them going. She didn't like how his eyes dropped or his body tender. Little did she know, it was only temporary as he healed himself. It's the simple creation of phantasms – causing the targeted person to hear, see, smell, taste and feel sensations that are not actually there, in order to manipulate them."
"…so ka…" Mamushi led him towards the labs, silently mulling over what her sensei was saying. Could she really make someone think they were ill, and become them ill by thinking it? "In other words, Genjutsu affects the five senses, though other applications of Genjutsu exist."
"What happens when a Genjutsu is directed at an individual person?" Kabuto smiled. That was the most inquisitive she had ever been. And she was interested, also a bonus.
"Those under the influence of Genjutsu either freeze in place or lose consciousness, depending on how capable they are in recognizing and defending against it."
"You and Orochimaru-sama didn't fall unconscious." Kabuto looked away, hiding his frown.
She daren't even call him her father…
"You didn't direct it at either of us. You just created the illusion."
"Oh…so ka…"
Could I really be good at something like Genjutsu?
next time skip, 2 weeks later
Kabuto had been gone for 2 weeks now, and Mamushi had confined herself to her cell to avoid the hall monitors on their patrol, engrossing herself in her scrolls. She was currently reading up on the history of Chakra manipulation throughout different pores of the skin, when a loud eruption of hissing cries caught her attention.
She put her scrolls onto a makeshift rack of wood at the side of her bed of rags, and rose to her feet. She smoothed hands down her long baggy, off white tunic and black leggings, her hair safely hiding her face, and peered out of the bars of her cell.
Gut wrenching screams weren't strange to her. She was used to having torture prisoners, captures targets and mutilated traitors dragged past her cell, kicking and screaming for all they were worth.
Which by that time, wasn't much.
But as she looked out of her cell, she raised a brow.
No one was there.
She was just about to return to her scrolls, when she heard it again. A definite cry of agony, high pitch and fraught with pain.
For some reason, unlike all those other pathetic creatures dragged before her, next to her, at her, she felt drawn towards this cry, feeling empathy for it.
Why?
She couldn't even see who it was.
Mamushi gasped, her eyes wide.
It cried out again, but this time, she felt it, pulsing through her, until she pushed against the bars of her cell.
Sorrow rippled through her, until her golden eyes were streaming foreign tears, and she reached between the bars. What was she reaching for? There was no one there.
Help me, pleassssse!
Mamushi yelped.
Where the hell did that come from?
Pleassse!
Mamushi blinked, and she was halfway through the bars.
Her feet were still stood inside the cell, as were her hips, but her waist was pinched by the bars, her upper body pushing desperately away from the cell.
She didn't want to think how she had possibly squeezed through those bars, but continued, until she stood a good few feet away from them.
Help me! The pain!
"I'm coming." She whimpered, her slow shuffle breaking out into a flat out run ignoring for once how the guards glared at her, alarmed by her presence.
Not to mention the way she didn't even seem to notice them throwing kunai at her to make her stop, and avoiding them all.
On instinct now, Mamushi dipped to the side, and scampered up the side of the wall, using her Chakra to dart across it, her hips and shoulders swaying as she slithered faster and faster on her hands and feet, towards the voice.
Hurry!
"I'm coming!"