Chapter Three: The Things Worth Fighting For
Koharu made her way to the stateroom where An, the Rain Village envoy, waited. In their earlier conversation, the envoy had swiftly convinced Koharu of the considerable benefits of their plan.
"This marriage will very much support our improved alliance for peace and as a result, you will have access to our extensive scientific databases." Tsunade and Orochimaru had both told Koharu there was nothing to be done for her degenerating condition but, as far as she was concerned, those two were hypocrites and established liars. The envoy had reassured her of access to the Rain's hidden knowledge on tissue regeneration. She was unwilling to give up when she had a chance. Now all she had to do was give the Rain this clan-less boy. But she had to do it while the Rokudaime was away—he would never stand for this. And of course, there was the unpredictable Kyuubi child which even the Rain was anxious to avoid. It had to be done now.
Despite the suddenness of the scheme, Koharu had felt confident of obtaining Sai's eventual acquiescence. She had encountered him in the past, under different names, and she knew he had been Danzo's most efficient and obedient child. Even though Danzo's death released the curse seal, there were many avenues of persuasion for his still-fragile mind.
The Rain envoy had requested Sai, specifically, as their choice. Sai was unquestionably good-looking (until he opened his mouth and ruined the effect with his bluntness) and his jutsu was certainly very special. But Koharu suspected there was some other underlying motive that remained hidden. But, it didn't matter-it wasn't like she was sending him to his death. The envoy had assured her that he would be lavishly cared for and well compensated for his cooperation.
Also, some of the Yamanaka clan elders had openly expressed their disapproval of Sai, a nameless orphan with no manners, as a match for Ino. With him gone, Ino's clan could finally find a suitable, pedigreed partner for their young, incoming leader and they would owe Koharu a debt for removing Sai as an impediment.
Koharu approached the guest room in the Hokage tower. She could hear the envoy moving to the door, no doubt smoothing her elaborate gown and readying a gracious greeting for the soon-to-be newest member of their royal family. However, Koharu entered alone, while two shinobi guards waited outside.
"Where is he?" The envoy demanded. She was a bit younger than Koharu's advanced age, with light brown hair pulled back into a low ornate bun. She had a stern face that seemed to command obedience.
Koharu sighed, "He's here-secure, but he just requires a bit more persuading." She certainly didn't mind using force but visibly dragged-to-the-altar-in-chains would not be a good look for either country.
The envoy's expression became stone. "You promised this arrangement in exchange for access to our records."
"Don't worry, I won't be arguing with him any longer. I promise I will have him transported to the Rain Village tomorrow morning." She said confidently. "He will be fine once he gets there. I know he will accept his new situation." He really would-she told herself this. After all, he was accustomed to being reinvented as needed.
Sai sat on the floor of his cell, leaning his back against the cold stone wall. He was not in the usual empty dirt floor enclosure where enemy nin and traitors would be bound and blindfolded or chained to the wall. This section was reserved for high ranking violators for whom diplomacy required slightly better treatment. The wooden floor held a nondescript black futon, thinly padded and unfolded flat, a small table with two chairs—for dining and interrogation, and a sectioned off small utilitarian lavatory. They had removed his weapons and chakra ink, of course, but even his picture book and plain pencils were gone. They weren't taking any chances. Instead, his fingers instinctively drew designs in the dust on the floor while the guards locked the cell and prepared to leave him.
His tray of food remained untouched. He wanted none of it although he knew the risk of drugs or poison was minimal to him. He had been raised to be immune to most. He remembered the stricken look on Ino's face when he blandly told her of the months of being stabbed repeatedly with poisons, writhing miserably with other children and waiting to see who would die and who would survive in each successive round of poison and pain. He was one of the unlucky ones who survived to suffer again, month after month, until both his mind and body were numb and immune at age ten.
His current teammates, who had seen so much themselves, looked at him with pity and sorrow, as well as anger at the village leaders, when they found out these bits of his past. He realized then how damaged and monstrous he must seem to them, and how unworthy he was of Ino's interest. He understood and accepted how impossible it would ever be to build meaningful friendships with his comrades. But he was proven wrong. When he needed them in the Land of Silence, they came for him, not just for the mission, but for him, the boy with no name. When he didn't need them, they came for him anyway, dragging him out to eat and explore as he found his way back to his humanity.
Once the guards departed, Sai pulled out the small piece of chakra paper Iruka had secretly given him in the hallway. He had no ink—everything had been taken from him. Against his better judgment, Sai bit the tip of his finger, satisfied with the arrival of dark red liquid. Slowly he wrote on the paper until there was no more room. He sucked the dregs of blood from his finger. He knew Iruka would try to help him but he wanted to say goodbye to Ino, just in case. Sighing, he held two fingertips to his lips and pressed his chakra into the small scroll until the words formed into a crimson moth and flew through the bars of his cell. Someone must have sensed its quiet formation because the newly installed chakra repressors suddenly powered on and Sai felt his energy seeping away.
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Ino tapped her bright red fingernails on the worn kitchen counter in Sai's small apartment. He was definitely late. Her mood had changed from anticipation to impatience to worry in the thirty minutes since she had finished preparing a rare home-cooked dinner. Ino divided her time between her shifts at the hospital and her work at T & I. Healing followed by torture—the irony was not lost on her although she sincerely loved both. Those pretty, painted fingers could gut an enemy assassin and rip his mind apart just as easily as they could heal a child or whip up stir fried vegetables. She frowned. Even if he had been pulled away on an emergency mission, he would have left her a message. But, tonight, there was a glaring absence of Sai's signature small fragile bird, stark white, outlined in black, looking for a place to land, and then smashing its delicate body onto a waiting scroll, dying in a mess of black ink that would reorder into words from Sai. Suddenly, Ino felt a faint tug of Sai's chakra approaching but her relief dissolved into concern when she saw the tiny red rimmed white moth. Not just red—it was crimson, as though it had been drawn in Sai's blood. The moth flew swiftly towards her and then tumbled silently into the kitchen scroll in the space of time it took for her to suck in a breath and grab her kunai.
Ino ran into the tower, cloaked in rage and fear. Sai's note had been simple: he loved her and would continue to fight against this state of affairs, but he didn't want her to do anything…rash. He thought that if he refused long enough eventually the Rokudaime would return and put an end to this but Ino didn't trust Koharu's scheming mind. She stormed past the sharp-eyed guards at the mission desk without a backwards glance. The T & I insignia on her jacket ensured security would leave her alone. Iruka stood at the entrance to the upper cells and beckoned her towards him. She could feel Sai's presence, taut and somber, in the cavernous dimness of the tower. Running over to Iruka she turned to see the long row of cells, empty and dark, except for one that was dimly lit.
The new chakra repressors were set mercilessly high, sucking Sai's energy away until he felt lightheaded. He was startled by the sound and mental jolt of Ino's approach and he stumbled upward from the floor, still weakened by the repressors. She stood golden, like sunlight, burning and furious against the darkness. He stood before her, his fingers tightening around the bars of his cell as they faced each other, sunshine and moonlight, until her hand tangled into his inky black hair and drew his face between the bars to the breathless press of her lips.
"Koharu's lost her mind if she thinks she can take you away from me." Ino's voice against his lips was filled with a rage she seldom showed anymore. Ino had been notoriously prone to angry outbursts before and during the war. Her fury at even minor offenses was legendary. However, after the loss of her father during the war, her time with Sai's quiet presence had calmed her and her time in the interrogation unit had, ironically, made her more stoic. Now the old Ino had returned— a spitting mad, golden fury—like a vengeful goddess, with Sai as her opposite, his lean muscles standing in quiet anger, a dark, smoldering coal, edged with the relief of her presence.
Iruka quietly worked the seals for the chakra repressors and Sai felt his energy returning. Ino pulled a key from her pocket and released the bars. "We're just...leaving?" Sai looked uncertain. Ino grabbed Sai's hand. "We're going to Yamato's, he's agreed to sub in for your "protection" detail. She can't argue with that—he's your team leader." Iruka watched Sai's movements to make sure he had recovered. "Ikuza, let's go kids. We have one more thing we need to do..."