In the darkness, the two facets of her mind collide. She doesn't know which is the real her anymore. She knows she is a sister, but to four or to one? How long has she lived this life? Is she twenty-four or is she three?

The smell of gasoline and the blinding glare of headlights fills her head, along with the pounding feet of 10, 20, 100 men all chasing her and the taste of blood filling her mouth. She's in so much pain. Someone is screaming, far away. She wants her mother, though which one, she isn't sure.

In the emptiness, two consciousnesses seem to fight one another. She's not sure who she is.

This is her world, her life. She was born in the Kaguya clan compound and has never left it in all her short life. It is just her and her mama, granny, and sister. Others, always surrounding them, always stinking of blood and looking at her family with hate-filled eyes. Even so, it is home and she loves it.

But she also knows that she grew up in a home with both parents, and with younger siblings that she has helped to raise since before she can even remember. They have all been dragged across the country by her father's job too many times to count, and have always been close because of it. They love one another and do their best to protect each other. Her siblings are her babies, her most precious people.

That's the same, though. Both of them can agree on this one thing; her sister is still one of the most precious things in this world. She still wants, more than anything else, to protect her.

The two facets latch onto this thought, using it as the first step, the first sign that they could be one and the same. Slowly, they begin to meld into something entirely different.

When Mayuri wakes once more, she is someone (something) new.


When she came to, the first thing she noticed was that her mouth was dry. She lay still for a long moment, listening to the sound of her own breathing and the rush of blood in her ears. Staring into the darkness, the pleasant heaviness of sleep still hanging over her, it was easy to believe that she had just been having a bad dream.

When she tried to move and found herself strapped down, reality slapped her in the face once more.

Mayuri wriggled against the restraints, hoping that she might be small enough to slip out of them. It became quickly apparent, though, that they had been specifically designed for children. The thought by itself was scary. It was worse still to know that whatever they planned for her would be bad enough that she apparently needed to be strapped down. After all, hadn't she already agreed to do whatever they wanted?

After a few minutes of fruitless struggling, she stilled, breathing hard. She was trembling all over and the metal clamps of the restraints clanked against the bed, echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet room. It was eerie, like a scene from a horror movie. Any second, the monster would arrive to swallow her whole. The only question was, which face would the monster be wearing? Orochimaru's or Kabuto's?

Much to her surprise, when the door opened a painfully long time later, it was neither of them that came to get her. A young man dressed all in white stood in the doorway, illuminated by the blinding light from the hallway. He seemed equally surprised to see her staring back at him with eyes squinted against the sudden light. The man took a deep breath and visibly schooled his features into a neutral mask, never breaking eye contact with her.

After a painfully awkward moment, the medic looked away, forfeiting their impromptu staring contest. He flipped through a few papers on a clipboard, mumbling something too quietly for her to catch. Mayuri frowned, waiting only a second before she made a point of clearing her throat. He looked up from the clipboard, shoulders hunched as he stared back at her. It struck Mayuri as absurd that he would be so defensive around a seemingly little kid.

She pushed down the hysterical urge to laugh and instead said, "Can I have some water, medic-san?"

He stared at her for another moment before shrugging and moving closer. In the dim light, her newly adjusted eyes could just make out a counter of some sort in the corner, like at every doctor's office she had ever visited. She had thought that the room would be a lot bigger, what with the way the darkness had seemed so endless. The medic was able to cross the room in just three steps, though. Granted, he did seem awfully tall to her.

He rooted around in the cabinet for a moment before turning back towards her, holding what looked like an IV bag. He held the end of a tube before her lips, while she eyed him suspiciously. When she opened her mouth to ask if he was about to give her water or saline, he simply stuck the tube between her parted lips. Then, he squeezed the bag.

Mayuri coughed at the sudden rush of water that filled her mouth. She felt the burn of liquid coming out of her nose and choked, twisting her head to force the tube out of her mouth. A puddle was quickly forming around her head, soaking into her hair and making the room seem colder. She wished that she had a blanket.

When she turned back to look at the medic she was certain he would be grinning, cruel and cold, just like the others she had met in this place. To her surprise, he was simply staring impassively back, expression blank besides the slight pinch around his mouth. She frowned.

"That wasn't very nice, you know," she told him bluntly. When he didn't respond, she continued, "Thank you for the water, though. My mouth isn't as dry anymore."

He didn't reply, not that she had expected that he would. Instead, he reached forward, fingers coming to rest on her throat. She flinched back as far as she could manage, eyes squeezing shut and body tensing. There was no pain, though, and no loss of breath. Instead, his fingers pressed carefully at her pulse point, touch as light and gentle as a butterfly. When she opened her eyes and saw him watching a wristwatch, she realized what he was doing. She lay still and let him take her pulse, watching his face curiously for some sign of what he might be feeling. After a long moment, he pulled away, never once showing any signs of emotions beyond the slight tightness around his mouth.

The man nodded and wrote something down on his clipboard, then shone a light directly in Mayuri's eyes. She bit her cheek to keep from cursing and did her best not to turn away despite her watering eyes, lest he felt the need to take more drastic measures to get whatever medical information he needed.

It continued like that for a while, the medic poking and prodding and writing on his clipboard, the scratch of the pen across paper uncomfortably loud to her ears. After a little while, he withdrew, mouth curved down into a frown as he tapped his pen thoughtfully against the paper. Mayuri managed a shaky smile.

"How's it look? Am I gonna be able to get out of here soon?"

He stared at her silently for a moment before he turned and walked away without a word, expression never changing. Mayuri felt panic grip her as he made a beeline for the door. She thrashed against the restraints once more, wanting nothing more than to sit up.

"Wait!" she called after him, her voice breathy with her panic. "Where are you going? What's going to happen?"

The man closed the door and the room fell once more into darkness. Mayuri stared at where the door was, trying to see even the faintest outline of light, but to no avail. The door was apparently sealed so tightly that not even a hint of light could be seen through the cracks. The girl whimpered quietly, squeezing her eyes so tightly shut that spots began to dance behind her eyelids.

Her mind was racing, jumping to a thousand different theories and conclusions before finally settling on one complete thought.

She was a tiny, helpless little girl, and she was at the mercy of monsters.

She was stuck in the body of a child, who had apparently fucking died, with the mind of an adult but memories from two very different lives. This was the Naruto universe, unless there was some crazy coincidence in her own world that led to this exact situation with two random people named Orochimaru and Kabuto, who just happened to use jutsus and could apparently bring people back from the dead.

Shit, did that mean she was a zombie? A Naruto-verse zombie? What would that even entail? Were the rules for the living dead different between worlds?

She groaned, then lifted her head and slammed it back down on the cot. The impact made her head pound, so she did it a few more times, just to ensure herself that this was real. It was hard to believe, but with the various aches and pains, and the feeling of water soaking her hair and the chill raising goosebumps along her skin, she couldn't deny that this was real life and not just a messed up dream.

Mayuri knew she should probably feel more torn up about it. Maybe it just hadn't really settled in yet. After all, she felt like any moment her cell phone might ring and it would be her mom on the other end, telling her about her workday and about how the kids were doing and she'd be able to laugh and tell her mom about this crazy dream she just had. However, she also knew that she had been born here. Mayuri had lived out her short life in this world, where jutsu and shinobi were commonplace. The only adjustment that part of her mind had to do was the one concerning her current predicament.

Maybe, if she had really been just three years old, she wouldn't be able to handle it. Hell, as an adult, Mayuri wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle it. All she could do was try, though. She was good at compartmentalization. She could go with the flow. Besides, all that had really been done to her was being strapped down and poked a little. She could handle that.

Well, she suspected her food had been drugged, too.

And her sister had been taken away.

And her mother had been brutally murdered right in front of her.

And oh God, who was going to protect her babies now!?

Maybe she wasn't handling this so well.

Mayuri's heart ached and her breathing sped up until it was coming in short, rasping gasps. Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaking into her hair, not that that made much of a difference. She threw her head back, slamming it against the metal edge of the cot hard enough to make spots burst before her eyes despite the darkness. Her fingers clawed at the cot, twisting in the paper thin sheets beneath her until she felt them tear. Her mouth stretched wide, open in a soundless scream even as pathetic, breathless little noises escaped instead. She knew she was hyperventilating and she knew exactly what was happening, but she couldn't stop it.

She let the panic sweep her away, drown out all rational thought and every sense of self until there was nothing left. In the pitch black room, it was an easy thing to do.


When she came back to herself, there was another medic standing over her. It was a woman this time, just as blank faced as the man who had come before her.

Mayuri stared back with raw, red-rimmed eyes. The woman didn't say a word as she moved silently away, back turned as she rifled through the cabinet. Mayuri watched her silently, unable to dredge up enough energy to even say anything.

She felt empty, like someone had drained all emotions and every sense of self from her. It wasn't a totally foreign feeling, but it wasn't something she particularly enjoyed. Somehow, though, she found herself a little relieved. She knew when she was disassociating and knew she would feel worse later, but at that moment, it was a welcome reprieve. She didn't want to be the main actor on her own stage for a little while.

The medic offered her water in a similar manner as the one before. The only difference was that she didn't squeeze the little bag hard enough to choke Mayuri, letting the water trickle into her mouth instead. Mayuri mumbled a quiet thank you when the tube was removed and turned her face away.

The woman stood over her for a long moment, and Mayuri heard the scratching of a pen over paper. It seemed strangely out of place in the quiet of the room. When it stopped, the woman left, closing the door behind her. Once again, Mayuri was left in darkness with a sinking feeling in her gut.

This time, it was only for a moment. The woman came back holding a bag. Mayuri watched her suspiciously as she came to stand over her once again.

"If you cause any trouble you will regret it," she said, her voice surprisingly high and the look in her eyes leaving no doubt in Mayuri's mind that she would enjoy making her suffer. Numbly, the girl nodded.

The medic undid the strap across her chest, relieving a pressure that Mayuri hadn't even realized was there. She gasped for breath, ignoring the disgusted look that the medic sent her. The woman quickly undid the restraints on her ankles and wrists, her hand resting heavily on Mayuri's shoulder as she helped her sit up. Mayuri felt a shiver climb her spine, and she wished with every fiber of her being that the woman would just stop touching her.

"I will escort you to use the bathroom and afterwards you will receive a meal. You have fifteen minutes to eat. Then you will be brought back here to continue with the examination. Do you understand?"

Mayuri nodded, and the woman lifted her off the cot and placed her onto her feet. Mayuri wobbled a bit, trying to get a handle on the fact that the world suddenly seemed three times larger than she could ever remember it being. She instinctively reached out to grasp at the hem of the woman's shirt to help steady herself. The woman didn't pull away, but when Mayuri looked up at her, she was met with another look of disgust. She simply smiled back, trying to put as much innocence and sugary sweetness into the look as she possibly could.

Mayuri stiffened as the medic placed a black bag over her head and a leather cuff on one wrist, but did not protest. She remembered, vaguely, that bagging was a method of sensory deprivation and torture. She wanted to scoff. Hadn't they ever heard of The Geneva Conventions?

She felt a tug on her wrist and took a step in that direction, feeling like one of those toddlers whose parents kept them on a leash. She was a blindfolded toddler-adult on the world's worst leash. How humiliating.

She stumbled as she was pulled along at a breakneck pace, bumping into the doorframe as they passed out of the examination room and into the hallways beyond. Her little legs couldn't seem to keep up with her babysitter and the ground hurt her bare feet. This was ridiculous.

"You're walking too fast." She announced as she stumbled yet again. The medic didn't respond, but she did slow down just a tiny bit. Mayuri sighed, shifting to walk on the balls of her feet in hopes of relieving the pressure there. "You're not used to dealing with kids, huh?"

The medic grunted, then said, "We're here. You can remove the hood as soon as you're inside. Can you manage this on your own?"

Mayuri hummed an affirmative and nodded vigorously, relieved that she wouldn't have to face the embarrassment of someone trying to help her use the bathroom, and was guided through another doorway. As she heard the woman move away and the slight squeak of door hinges, she mumbled a quiet, "Thank you."

After all, if people liked her she probably had a better chance of survival. Kill them with kindness and live to tell the tale herself. Win-win.


It went on like that for what she guessed was a week, though she wasn't entirely sure. She had never had a very good grasp on the passage of time, and trying to count the minutes here was impossible and just left her frustrated or panicking. It was easier for her to drift, thoughts running just below her stream of consciousness, easily ignored as time slipped away.

Except, of course, when they weren't. Despite her best efforts, she'd often find her thoughts coming to swallow her up and then send her into a blind panic. She got nightmares often, full of blood and staring eyes and a head resting at her feet. The face that looked up at her from that decapitated head tended to change. It was always the worst when it was the familiar faces of her babies, staring imploringly up at her with wide, terrified eyes.

On top of that, being strapped down and unable to move for so many hours out of the day was a special sort of nightmare in and of itself. She felt like she was constantly on the verge of crawling out of her own skin, like it was shrinking around her. She was constantly shaking, fidgeting, thrashing until her wrists bled, going out of her mind. It was a horrific, indescribable feeling. By what she guessed was just the second day, she had been almost willing to do anything for them to untie her for just a little while so she could relieve the tension that was building more and more with each passing moment. It was only what little remained of her pride that stopped her from begging.

At least the isolation gave her enough time to sort through a shit ton of issues. When her mind was occupied, it was sometimes easier to ignore the crawling under her skin. Not that it really did much good, because as soon as she came to terms with one thing then another horrible thought appeared to take its place. There were just too many factors and things she didn't know, and the uncertainty was tearing her apart. She usually ended her deep-thinking sessions either asleep or in tears. It was generally easier to just sleep.

When she couldn't sleep, Mayuri did her best to explore her new body in what little ways she could while being restrained. She carefully flexed each muscle and focused on the movements and the feelings, trying to get used to the changes. She was weaker than she could ever remember being and everything around her was horribly big, but her body at least still functioned much the same as the old one. She promised herself that, should she survive whatever horrific things Orochimaru wanted to do to her, she'd make sure this body became something she could use to its full potential. She didn't want to ever feel this weak and helpless ever again.

The one thing about this new form that she couldn't seem to really get a handle on, though, was the buzzing just under her skin. She could feel it, always there, always moving through her body like a living thing. It took her days to figure out that it was probably chakra, and not some horrific parasite that had made it's home inside her veins. As much as she tried to focus and control it, she couldn't seem to feel any difference at all. It just continued its sluggish journey under her skin, moving in ways she had never experienced before. She had no clue what to make of it.

It was way easier to focus on what she did know, and really, all she knew was that she got two meals and three bathroom breaks in what she guessed was a day, and that she made sure to thank the medics every time.

She was pretty sure they were starting to warm up to her, which would be a lot cooler if she wasn't warming up to them in turn. She had to remind herself, over and over, that they were the bad guys here. That they worked for Orochimaru and they were just as guilty in the slaughter of her mother, and her and Hiroko's kidnapping and torture. They were the ones who were complicit in leaving a child immobile and alone in a dark room 23 hours out of the day. Not to mention whatever horrors were happening to Hiroko!

It was a little hard to keep that conviction when Sora, one of the handful of medics that she had met in the last week, wiped away her tears with gentle hands after one of the others had drawn spinal fluid. When Emi couldn't finish a joke (which she had been telling to distract Mayuri from the blood that she was drawing) because she was laughing too hard, it was all too easy to forget that all the people working for Orochimaru were supposed to be evil.


This is really more of a transitional chapter, and to be honest I'm not sure I'm entirely pleased with how it turned out. I think it's necessary for moving the story along, though, and can't think of any ways to really make it flow better. So this is how it's going to be for now! Hope you weren't too thrown off by it!

A special shout out to datsonyat for not only leaving some amazing reviews, but for also helping me out with my grammar and chatting with me about this fic. She's amazing and deserves so many good things.