Hello everyone! This week, I'd like to give a special little shoutout to Kragh50, who took the time to send me a PM about their concerns over the rating of this fic, then proceeded to send multiple other messages sharing their thoughts with me. It was a lovely surprise to come home from work to, and I agree! I'm going to go ahead and up the rating of Sticks and Stones to M, because as Kragh50 pointed out to me, the content of my story is not something I'd want an unprepared 13 year old reading.

I'd also like to thank everyone who commented, again. You all honestly make my days so much better and bring me so much happiness. Thank you so much to everyone who takes the time to not only read my work, but also review, favorite, and follow it. Every notification I get brightens up my day. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Warning for this chapter: There is a panic attack that lasts a couple paragraphs, so if that bothers you, be prepared.


Being dumped to the floor, coughing up toxic green sludge and struggling to breath, was not an experience that Mayuri wanted to repeat ever again. Actually, ever since opening her eyes to find herself in this body and this universe, there were a fuck ton of things that she never wanted to have to go through ever again and would, in fact, be much happier if she could just forget.

Being reunited with Hiroko was not one of those things.

She would gladly relive that experience over and over again. The second the door closed and they were left alone together, they had fallen into one another's arms. It was a moment out of every movie, out of every perfect life where things were alright. It was meeting up again after moving to different parts of the country, after being released from the hospital, after one left to visit relatives and the other stayed behind, after an emotionally charged day at school. It was every sunshine-spattered memory she could conjure, every glowing feeling of joy and the relief of she's okay and we're both alive.

She buried her face in her sister's shoulder, arms wrapped around her neck as she did her best to hold back the tears that were burning at her eyes. Hiroko was sobbing openly, tears and snot making a wet spot on the collar of Mayuri's new tunic. She held her tightly, not wanting to let go, because if she let go then they could be separated yet again. So she just squeezed more tightly, clinging like an octopus and laughing wetly when Hiroko jumped up to wrap her legs around Mayuri's waist and cling back. Mayuri twirled them, nearly losing her footing, and they both laughed. For the briefest of moments, it was possible to forget the horrors that they were both going through.

All good things came to an end, though, and eventually the moment had to pass. The sisters let go of one another and stepped back to stare into each other's faces, taking in the familiar yet unnervingly different features. Mayuri took in the bags under Hiroko's mismatched eyes and the way they seemed so dull despite the tears in them.

"Hey, looks like your eye healed up okay," she sniffled, fingers twitching like she wanted to reach out and touch her sister's face. Hiroko looked away, nose crinkling with distaste.

"Yeah, I guess so. It's weird to see one blue eye and one brown one when I look in the mirror, though. It's weird to see my reflection at all."

"I think it looks pretty cool!" Mayuri tried to assure, her voice still tight with emotion. Hiroko snorted, blowing a strand of black hair out of her face and rolling her eyes, but there was the hint of a smile on her face.

"Thanks. I think your thing is going to look pretty cool, too."

Mayuri's brow wrinkled in confusion and she reached up to touch one eyelid, then looked down at herself as though searching for any sign of bones breaking through her skin. "My thing?" she repeated, confused. Hiroko's smile disappeared.

"Yeah, your hair," she pointed out, fingers moving to touch her own scalp. "Your roots. They're white now."

"Oh," Mayuri murmured, blinking back her surprise and fighting the urge to feel weird about the changes. It wouldn't be fair to Hiroko to be upset about her hair changing color, when the other girl had literally had her eye removed and replaced with someone else's. Besides, this body was practically all new to her anyway. Hair shouldn't be a big deal. So instead, she plastered a bright grin on her face and said, "That's awesome! I always thought I'd look killer with white hair. Do you think it suits me?"

Hiroko huffed out a quiet almost-laugh at the way her sister made a show of primping and preening. She shoved her playfully and said, "How am I supposed to know? It's just the roots right now so it's not like I can really tell. It actually looks a little bit like you're going bald. But it will probably look pretty cool when it grows out some more, yeah. It'll go nicely with your skin tone."

Mayuri forced herself to maintain her grin and hoped that she'd get the chance to look in a mirror soon. She hadn't actually seen herself since waking up, though she had a vague idea of what she probably looked like, considering Hiroko's appearance and the foggy memories of who Mayuri had been before she'd died and a new soul had taken over.

By the time someone came to check on them, the two girls were sitting side by side against the far wall, comparing the seals inscribed across their skin. They hadn't discussed anything that had happened to them after they had fallen asleep that first meeting, uncertain and afraid of what they might learn. Mayuri wanted so desperately to ask her sister what had happened to her but she knew that, right now, it wouldn't do any good to talk about it. It was still too fresh a wound, still a terror that hung heavy over them both. Hiroko would tell her about it when she was ready, she told herself.

The truth was, she was afraid. She knew that if she asked her sister about what had happened to her, she would be asked in turn. She wasn't ready to talk about it. Not yet. Maybe not ever. She would be happy to just forget that it had ever happened, honestly.

"It's time to go, Mayuri-chan," the man who had been sent to fetch her said, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. The twins looked up at him with wide eyes. Instead of getting up, they scooted closer together, sides pressed close like they could become one being, impossible to separate, if they tried hard enough.

"Why can't we both just stay here?" Mayuri demanded. Beside her, Hiroko glared silently, as though wishing that "if looks could kill" wasn't just an expression. The man looked thoroughly unimpressed with them.

"There's only one bed," he pointed out, then raised a hand to silence their protests before they could start. "—and because Orochimaru-sama said. That's why."

"He's not even our real dad," Mayuri mumbled, frown firmly in place. Hiroko stifled a snort of startled laughter, turning to look at her sister with wild eyes. The man frowned, as though seriously considering Mayuri's words and what they could possibly mean. She wondered if he was planning on passing what she had said along to Orochimaru himself. Mayuri met Hiroko's eyes, the hint of a crooked smile turning the corner of her lips. They stared at one another for a second, a silent conversation exchanged between them. He watched them, curious what they might be thinking and what they might do.

After a moment, Mayuri heaved a sigh and hoisted herself to her feet, wincing when her ankles popped with the movement. Hiroko followed suit, rising silently with her sister. They linked hands, fingers entwining and both girls trying to offer reassuring squeezes. They looked at one another, smiled sadly, and then let go. Mayuri had to remind herself that they hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye to one another before, so at least this was an improvement over that.

Besides, the experiments had already been run. They had been successful, so what else could Orochimaru want from them tonight? She met Hiroko's sad eyes and could see that her sister was already shutting down. Mayuri did her best to smile at her, to reassure her in whatever small ways she could. The last thing that she saw of her sister before the door swung shut was the way she had tried to smile back, empty and strained as it was, as tears rolled down her cheeks.


The room she had been led to was mostly bare. It was tiny, easily crossed in ten steps and furnished with just a bed and nothing else. Overall, it wasn't the smallest space she had ever called a bedroom, but it was close. The bland walls and dark, flickering lighting made it seem smaller than it really was. There was a small private bathroom that led from it, which was an unexpected bonus. It even had a little stepstool so that she could reach the sink and see herself in the mirror. How thoughtful of her captors.

There were clothes folded at the foot of the bed, and a purple rope belt was placed on top of the small pile. Staring down at it, she had to wonder; what was with Orochimaru and these ridiculous belts? She had yet to see him wearing one in real life, as he seemed to prefer dressing in kimonos while he scarred little girls for life. Personally, she didn't think it was very fair that people kept giving her such a hideous accessory and she was forced to ponder over whether refusing to wear it would be a literal death sentence every time she held it in her hands.

Mayuri scowled at the belt before shifting it to the side in favor of examining the clothes themselves. Altogether, there were four articles of clothes, which didn't leave a lot for her to mix and match, much to her disappointment. There was a pair of black leggings and a grey long sleeved tunic with a high collar. The second tunic was off-white and sleeveless with a lower neckline, while the leggings were brown and short enough to be hidden by the length of the tunic. There were no designs or markings on any of the clothes to indicate a certain village or clan. They were boring, but she could see how they might be practical, and she guessed that they were the best she was going to get in this place. There were no shoes in sight. Normally, she wouldn't mind being barefoot so much, but the stone floors here were a minefield of sharp little pebbles.

Seeing as there wasn't much else in the little room to occupy her time, the mirror was where Mayuri soon found herself spending most of her alone time. She stared at herself for what felt like hours at a time, trying to adjust to the changes in her reflection, to attach this new form to what she pictured in her mind's eye when she imagined herself. There were a lot of differences, yet also a few subtle similarities. It seemed that even across dimensions, parts of her might remain the same.

It reminded her of looking in a funhouse mirror, almost. She could recognize the shape of her nose and the curve of her lips. She could see where baby fat would disappear in later years to reveal a heart-shaped face, similar to the one she had once had. Everything was exaggerated and warped, though, the features off enough that she wouldn't have looked twice at this new form if she had passed it in the street, Before. It was strange, leaving her mind reeling and her body feeling wrong, to watch a familiar stranger looking back at her with curious green eyes. Those, at least, were wholly familiar to her. She wondered how it was that her eyes had crossed dimensions. Wasn't there a saying, about how eyes were the windows into the soul? It wasn't pleasant, yet somehow the longer she stared the more the form seemed to fit. She hoped that if she stared long enough, she would come to be comfortable in this skin.

"Ah, shit," she muttered, leaning closer to her reflection, eyes narrow and mouth twisted into an unhappy expression as she brought her hands up to run tiny fingers over her hair. Just like her sister had said, there was about an inch of white growing from her scalp. "Hiroko was right; it does look like I'm going bald."

She sighed, breath fogging up the mirror, and tried to remember if any of her clansmen had had white hair. The only ones she could think of were the few members who had had the honor (or dishonor, depending on who was asked) of growing old enough that their dark hair had turned naturally silver and their clan markings had faded from exposure to the elements. Which meant that her hair was probably changing color due to stress, as opposed to any genetic-related reasons, and she was going to be the youngest person in the world to go prematurely grey. She wondered if it would go back to black eventually or not.

As much as she hated to admit it to herself, she didn't like the idea of yet another thing setting her apart from the other members of her clan. Neither she nor Hiroko had clan markings, the honor of it being something that they would have had to earn with great feats of either strength or brutality since they were of impure birth, as opposed to the full members, who were given their markings if they survived their first year of life. That was, they could have earned them, had they not been killed by their own clansmen.

With a soft groan, she squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her forehead against the mirror, letting the cool feeling of it wash through her. She focused on her breathing, trembling fingers curled around the edges of the sink with a white-knuckled grip. The sound of running footsteps seemed to echo around her along with the angry howls of men and the terrified screaming of children. She could feel phantom hands on her and the crunch of her nose as it was kicked in. She hunched over the sink, shoulders shaking and legs barely able to support her weight as her breathing began to pick up speed. It seemed like she could still see the gaping hole where Hiroko's eye had been in the afterimage imprinted on the insides of her eyelids.

A sob escaped her lips, her whole body lurching, and her legs gave out beneath her. She tumbled from the stool, landing on the hard ground and earning herself a nasty scrape across her bare arm. She knew it was there, could feel the dull throbbing of a new wound, but she hardly even noticed. She was far too busy trying to remember how to breath, her mouth gaping wide open as she pressed the heels of her hands tightly against her eyes, like if she pressed hard enough she might be able to destroy the horrific images that still lingered there.

Trembling, she rolled onto her stomach and crawled her way over to the bed. Even as out of it as she was, with the mounting panic attack, she knew that staying on the ground like that wasn't a smart idea. She hoisted herself up and lay on the thin mattress, still gasping for breath as thin streaks of blood stained the stark white sheets. She sobbed, throwing her head back to bounce against the mattress before she curled up on herself, shoulders shaking and each breath tearing itself painfully from her throat.

As she screamed, the sound muffled by her knees, some distant part of her mind hoped that this would be over before the next medic walked in. The last thing she needed was for word to get back to Orochimaru and Kabuto that she wasn't handling things well. If she wanted to be accepted and trusted here, then they couldn't know how unstable and upset she was.

Mayuri latched onto that thought. Slowly, desperately, she used it to pull herself up towards the peaceful, happy persona she wanted them to see. By the time the medic arrived, she was that child once more, doing her best to face the world she had found herself a part of.


On the third day after she had woken up, Mayuri was taken to a room that reminded her vaguely of a coliseum, with a large arena-like pit and a balcony with a single throne-like chair overlooking it. She stood in the pit, feeling small and insignificant as she looked up at Orochimaru's blurry form. She wished, for what felt like the hundredth time, that she had her glasses. After all, she figured that there was a small chance that if she could see him well enough to be able to tell what he was thinking, she might be able to figure out what he wanted from her. If she could just figure that out, she could improvise and work from there.

"Have you liked your room, my dear?" he asked, scratchy voice sounding suspiciously kind. She couldn't tell if he was mocking her or not. So she gathered her courage and smiled up at him, trying to make it as bright and cheerful as she could manage. When she spoke, she did her best to ensure that her voice was as childish and innocent as could be.

"I really like it!" she announced, doing her best not to think too hard on why she was in a coliseum, or of what could have happened here to leave those dark stains on the ground beneath her bare feet. "It's nice to have my own bedroom and bathroom, but I miss my sister. Do you think we can share a room soon?"

"We will see," he said, that strange hint of amusement in his voice. Mayuri was relieved; at least he didn't sound angry yet. She wondered how much she might be able to get away with asking for before he began getting angry. After a second of contemplation, she decided against making any more requests for the time being, if she could help it. She wasn't even entirely certain what else she would ask for. After all, there wasn't much she wanted that had even the slightest chance of being given.

Freedom? As if that would ever happen. To go home? She wasn't even sure if he knew how they had ended up here. A pair of goddamn shoes? If he had wanted her to have them, she would have received them by now. No, there wasn't really anything that she could think to ask him for that there was even a chance he would grant.

"Thank you, Orochimaru-sama!" she said instead. She had always been good at playing innocent and hoped that her skills in that regard would hold up to his scrutiny. He hummed, and she could feel his sharp eyes on her. She wished once more that she knew what he was thinking. After a second, he spoke again.

"I heard that you had something of an incident with a medic," he murmured, sharp eyes not leaving her face and his lips pulled into a smirk. Mayuri felt her face go pale. She dropped her gaze to the ground and fought back the waves of nausea that rolled over her. She had been trying to ignore the guilt that rose every time she thought about Emi. She was still allowing herself to pretend it had been nothing but a nightmare. She knew she would have to face what she had done eventually, but she just couldn't. Not yet. If Orochimaru forced her to speak of it, forced her to admit that it had really happened, she wasn't sure what she would do. How was she supposed to live with the fact that she had killed someone? Even if it had been an accident, even if the woman had done horrible things to her, she had never wanted to become a killer. All she had wanted to do was escape the awful pain.

"I don't want to talk about it," she whispered. There was a pause and for a second Mayuri wondered if, after everything she had survived up to that point, Orochimaru would kill her then and there. The air felt too heavy and she felt like she was going to suffocate. She could practically envision every way he could kill her from where he lounged and the way her blood would become just another dark stain upon the stones for another child to wonder about in the future. Her knees were trembling beneath her, her whole body shaking violently as tears welled in her eyes. What would happen to Hiroko if she died?

"Very well," he said at last, waving one hand dismissively, and suddenly she could breath again, the tension seeming to evaporate from the air and drain from her body. She breathed a sigh of relief, only to have that breath catch in her throat as he continued. "However, I hope you will not forget that moment. We will be speaking of it later."

She bowed low, mumbling out her thanks for his patience with her. He hummed, and without any further discussion, dismissed her. As she walked from the room, back straight and each of her footsteps echoing eerily throughout the empty space, she could feel his eyes on her. A chill climbed her spine, and she had the sudden sneaking suspicion that he knew of her farce. She quickened her pace, afraid that he would call out to her again and his smile would be wide and twisted as he told her that he knew that her cheeriness was just a facade, and she would have to face the truth of her own emotions and the consequences of her lies.

Much to her relief, though, his voice did not ring through the room and call her back. As she passed through the entryway, she allowed herself to slump and covered her face with her hands, taking a few deep breaths. Then, she straightened up once more and faced Kabuto, who was waiting for her with an expression that she couldn't quite place.

"Orochimaru-sama is very strong, isn't he?" she murmured, the tiniest hint of a smile pulling up the corner of her lips. She knew her face was pale and her hands trembling, and wondered what Kabuto would make of it.

"Yes, he is," he answered simply. There was no smile on his face. It was something of a relief, really, and she let her own forced smile fade. Kabuto offered her a hand, which she took without hesitation as he said, "Are you ready to go back to your room? There are still a few more samples that I'll need to collect before you go to bed."

She nodded, and together they walked back.

A few days later, a shinobi she had never seen before led her to a room with two beds. Mayuri smiled for real, daring to let herself hope, and when Hiroko walked in the corridor echoed with a loud shriek of excitement.