In the end, I starting rifling through the hair pins looking for something that might make a good lock pick. I'd never tried lock picking in real life; I'd played some Oblivion and Skyrim, but they didn't make good examples of lockpicking.

I found a few that might help and I lifted the dresser a little, shoved the hair pins underneath and sat back down to think.

My eyes trailed over to the photo and the face paint, a plan starting to form for when I escaped.

I was going on very little sleep now; it'd been well over 24 hours since I'd slept and I could feel my eyes drooping a little. I shook myself awake a few times, paced the length of the room and even tried slapping myself awake a few times.

I was running on fumes. My stomach was grumbling unhappily with me and I lamented the lack of food, but knew when Obito would show up with food, I wouldn't touch it. I'd gone a length of time without food for surgery before, only surviving on clear liquids and I'd had enough blood draws to survive on no water for a time.

I was sure it was going to be difficult, but I was insistent I would not play into Obito's games.

I must have dozed off briefly because I was awoken by the sound of the door opening.

When I jolted awake and looked up at Obito, I could see the worry and upset in his eyes. I knew the room made a sight and I knew I probably looked like hell froze over. I stayed where I sat at the chair by the desk, chair angled towards the door.

The door shut and I could almost see Obito sighing in frustration, but he didn't. He walked in purposefully as I eyed him like an ant would a boot. I didn't want to show fear and I didn't want to show passivity, but I was trying desperately to stay calm and scrutinize his moves. I needed to know if this Obito was any different than the manga/anime. I needed to know how he reacted to things.

He approached and I stilled my body, purposefully untensing my muscles. My eyes followed his path toward me. As he came into my space, he sat the tray of food on the desk.

His voice was minutely strained as he spoke. "Rin, I understand you're upset. But you won't be going back. This is your room and I know from when we were younger that you know how to clean up after yourself. Despite having a tantrum," He continued, "you will clean up after yourself."

"Claire." I said aloud, barely keeping the tremble from my voice.

I could see a flash in his eyes and I could almost imagine the purse of the mouth. "A second life doesn't change anything. You're still Rin, and now that you're back where you belong, you will go by Rin again."

Anger flared in my chest at his words. My mouth came together in a tense line.

After a small stare down, I replied heatedly, "Call me what you want, it doesn't change the truth." I snapped back.

I could tell my response displeased him as his eyes narrowed on me. He looked around the room again, taking note of the things not deposited on the floor in my anger. His eyes trailed over to the team photo of team Minato, lingering there momentarily. His eyes swiveled still until they latched onto the untouched face paint.

I could tell his demeanor softened a little at that, but I didn't care. I didn't do it because I was sentimental or because I was Rin Nohara.

I had a plan for the photo – when I escaped, and I will – I would use it to convince Konoha to give me sanctuary. The face paint was to paint my face as Rin Nohara. I was not her, but the only place to go after this was Konoha. Hopefully I could put together a good enough story for how Rin Nohara came back from the dead, but if Obito thought I was her – that I looked just like her without the face paint – I could probably fool the rest of Konoha as well.

Whether I went with Obito's reincarnation theory or amnesia, I would seek sanctuary with Konoha.

I knew it wasn't the best place in all of the Elemental Nations, but what place was? They all had their skeletons in closets; and I was most familiar with Konoha, not to mention that Kakashi would be relieved.

And didn't that make me feel bad? Manipulating Kakashi like that, but I didn't have much choice. I needed to get back. I just didn't know how yet.

When Obito finally turned away from the face paint, he looked a little less upset.

His calm had returned and he spoke with a soothing voice, "I brought you food."

I didn't even glance at it. "Sorry," I said in a not sorry voice. "I have allergies."

He appeared thrown for a second before catching himself. "What are you allergic to?"

I held back a scoff. "Like I'd tell you. I'd much rather you brought food in everyday, not knowing what will kill me as I leave it untouched."

I could feel rather than see the simmering anger at my words. I cursed that he still had that dreaded mask on. I'd much rather see the face of the person I was speaking to. Besides, the mask was frightening (before my kidnapping I would never have said that the orange mask was anything but silly, but here I was) and I was sure it'd haunt my nightmares for years.

I raised my head to meet his gaze, forcefully holding back the panic. My fight or flight was trying to kick in, but I'd worked in a hospital. I'd spent months working in the mental health unit. I came to work everyday and got beat up everyday. I was going to treat him like one of my patients on a rampage.

I had to show him I did not fear him. I had to show him that he could not frighten me into submission; that he couldn't make me lose myself and run in fear.

He stared back evenly if a bit thoughtfully. In the next moment, his hand reached out and yanked me out of the chair. I withheld a yelp as he yanked me up, his movements fast and without hesitation.

He grabbed the face paint, some makeup with the other hand and gathered a few clothes on the ground. I tried in vain to yank my wrist out of his grip. The man was superhuman to my plain humanity. He had chakra, he had strength and he had training. I was no match for him.

He dragged me across the room as I dug my feet in and tried to pull away at the same time. I could feel panic bubbling up inside me, but I refused to voice it or show it.

I didn't know where he was going. His mood was frightening, too, as it shifted quickly. I reminded myself that this guy was a bit like my patients. He was grieving and handling it improperly.

Something about the curse of hate, too, somewhere in there and this man was a mess. He needed a good therapist and probably some happy pills.

To my shock, he pulled me out of the room and down the hallway. Despite the fear coursing through me like a fast river, I eyed my new surroundings.

Whether he knew it or not, I was remembering where we were going. I was planning my escape route. Obito wasn't going to kill me, no matter how mad I made him. He did look like he was unhinged enough to hurt me, though. I had to remember that part.

The man was unpredictable and if I thought about it, would he even go through the Moon's Eye Plan now that he had "his Rin back?" With that to contemplate about later, I continued to map the path we travelled. I still struggled futilely, but I had promised to rebel and rebel I would.

We'd went down two hallways before coming to a door. He nimbly opened it after releasing my wrist for a brief second. A brief second that I thought I could get away. I'd begun to pull away before he grasped my wrist once again and shoved me through the doorway.

I looked at my new surroundings to see a bathroom. I wanted to hope that he realized I needed a bathroom break at some point, but the clothes in his hands and the face paint made me think otherwise. I took a steadying breath as I stood my ground in front of him.

He released me as he shut the door. Placing the objects he'd brought with him onto the bathroom counter, he turned to me. "I tried to be patient, Rin," he said in an even, steady voice. "I'm trying to be nice." He continued on. "I understand that it will take time to regain your memories and I understand it will take time for you to accept your new situation."

It scared me how much he believed what he was saying. I hung onto his every word, analyzing and even begrudgingly fascinated in his psyche.

"However, to remember, you must make steps to try. I'm only doing what is best for you, Rin." I opened my mouth to remind him of my real name, but he didn't give me time. "You're going to shower, clean up, get dressed in your new clothes and paint your face."

I made a face of disgust at him. "You're going to get rid of my clothes, aren't you?" Damn this man. This is my favorite outfit.

His silence and steady gaze on me confirmed my thoughts.

"And if I don't do that?" I hedged, unable to keep myself from pushing back.

"You will not leave this bathroom until you have." His words held a finality with them.

My plan had been to eventually change into those clothes and dress up as Rin during my escape, but I wasn't going to play into this man's fantasies. I shook my head at him, face fierce as I gave him my answer.

He reached behind him and opened the door, backing into it before saying the haunting words, "Then you will be in here for however long it takes for you to accept this next step in remembering all of your past life." He shut the door firmly and I just knew it was locked.

I cursed the fact my new makeshift lockpicks were hidden in the room and I hadn't kept them on me. I went for the door and was unsurprised that it wouldn't budge.

I slumped down the door and curled into a ball. I knew with certainty that it was not a baseless or hollow threat. He'd really do it.

Tears that I'd been holding back for hours fell down my face. I knew if I looked in the mirror, I'd see running mascara and smudged foundation. In the time that I rocked back and forth on the floor in a ball as small as I could make myself, I realized I had no choice.

I was going to clean up, dress up as Rin Nohara and paint my face. Then I'd make my escape. I was not staying for days and I was not going to starve myself for weeks. I was getting out tonight.

I climbed to my wobbly feet and started the process. I was glad Obito wasn't there to see me break down, but I knew that it was a small comfort. When Obito came back, there wasn't going to be a sign of a blotchy face. When Obito came back, he was going to see the face of Rin Nohara, but he was going to get the attitude of someone he wouldn't recognize.

If by some crazy happenstance I was Rin Nohara, then I'm a Rin Nohara that was hardened by the world around her.

I was kind, compassionate and helpful until I was pushed too far. I was the kind of healthcare worker that would have a patient throw a chair at me, still comfort the patient and then get an apology. I was the kind of healthcare worker that forgive every patient that assaulted me (whether they left a lasting injury or not). I was, however, also firm, and rebellious against those who were unfair or were bad by nature.

I would dress up. I would look like an older Rin Nohara. But he would find that when faced with his breed of injustice, I would not bow to him – and the idea of having his past crush hating him will hurt him. I counted on it.

I washed with soap, lathered my hair and rinsed off. A purple towel was hung beside a plain one and I knew it was to be mine. As I dried myself, I wandered over to the objects on the counter. Fingering the fabric of the skirt, I was glad I kept up with shaving myself at all times.

With a deep sigh, I began the process of putting on the clothes set aside for me. From the moment that the skirt and shirt were on, I was cringing at the mirror.

The way my bangs framed my face, the colors and the design of the outfit was a clear ringer for Rin Nohara. I pulled my gaze away from the mirror with difficulty and began the process of putting on the knee-high socks. I wished I could avoid the mirror longer, but I could not.

I grabbed the makeup on the counter and began the process of removing signs of my break down. I could see the tiredness in my eyes and the fear. I was haunted by the look in my eyes – the look of unsurety.

I took another deep breath to steady myself before reaching a shaking hand down to grab the face paint. I stared at it for a few minutes, deciding if I was really going to go through with this. But I didn't have a choice.

I began the process of Rin Nohara's face paint to the best of my ability to remember correctly. If I didn't remember correctly, I wasn't sure how Obito would react, but if I remembered correctly, he'd take it as confirmation that a piece of Rin Nohara was inside me somewhere.

When I finished and the lines down my face were thick and wide, I stared at my reflection in horror. The bottle of face paint dropped onto the counter. It made a loud noise, but I couldn't bring myself to look at it and see if it was broken.

I was horrified to see that I looked like an older Rin Nohara. From fanart I'd seen of an older Rin Nohara if she'd lived, I was the spitting image. Despite the foundation and the purple face paint, I was pale.

My mouth was open in what could only be described as terror. I almost didn't hear the door behind me open, but I saw in the corner of my eyes, the reflection of Obito behind me.

He pulled his mask off so I could see his face and I moved my eyes to look at his reflection. He watched me tenderly, a content look on his face.

"See, you remember some of your past. That look on your face? You're realizing just how much you remember." He came up behind me and I fought not to tense. He stared at my eyes through the mirror reflection. Reaching up, he stroked one purple cheek. "While a bit thick, you just need to get into practice again."

While his psyche was in a way fascinating for someone who had worked in a mental health unit, the situation was becoming all the more real as I not only looked like Rin Nohara now, but that Obito was getting his way. Whether I was Rin Nohara in a past life didn't matter; I was becoming her now.

I wanted to tear my face away from his caressing hand, but I stayed firmly rooted to the floor holding my breath.

"Come," he said, dropping his hand to reach for mine. Like holding hands like he and Rin did all those years ago. When I didn't grab his hand, he clasped his onto mine and the intimacy made me flinch. He put his mask back on fluidly.

This time, as he led me down the hallway and out of the bathroom, I was in a trance. I realized in the back of my mind that I was dissociating. I was beyond frightened and my mind was trying to protect me.

He lightly pulled me into the room I knew to be mine now and he gestured towards the food.

I gulped as I tried to grasp the situation; grasp the change in my head.

"I…I need time. I need to…"

He seemed to understand as his eyes shone with something I could not discern. "I understand." He said, tone mild. "Take your time as your memories come back."

I stared at the room as he let go of my hand and left the room with a click of the door latching.

I could feel my pulse racing. I could hear the beats. My chest felt like it would burst any second.

And then, frantically, I enacted my plan.

I was in a frenzy. Full blown panic. I grabbed the leg of the desk and pulled at the base as I kicked the top with all I had. I clawed and tore at it. My chest never stopped its racing pulse. Desperately, I did everything I could to create a weapon.

Finally, I heard the sound of the would breaking and I knew it was a horrible weapon, but it was mine. I grabbed a few pens and pocketed them along with the small picture frame of team Minato.

Lifting the dresser for my lockpicks, I hurried over to the wall and tried to sharpen the wood as much as possible. Hard friction as I rubbed it aggressively. Time was passing and I knew I didn't have forever. My arms burned and I was tired, but I wasn't going to give up.

Finally deciding that while not the best weapon, it would have to work, I ran for the door. I didn't know if he sealed it. I didn't know if it was locked.

If it was locked, I was going to pick it. If it was sealed, I would tear an opening in the walls or even the door with my large piece of the wooden desk.

I didn't know what I was doing, but I was trying my hardest. I didn't know how long had passed since he left, or how long I'd been trying to pick it. It wasn't working.

Finally, in my frustration, I started hammering at the door handle. I will be free!

The handle broke off and while I felt satisfaction at that, I wasn't done. I had to still unlock it. Whether it would work or not, I worked on the broken handle.

Sweating with my racing pulse, I finally felt the door give. My relief was palpable and I almost cried.

I slowly opened the door to peek outside the crack. Seeing no one, I tried to be as sneaky as possible in a place with S-Rank criminals. I'd escape or die trying.

I could only imagine coming upon Hidan. I shivered with fear. However, death would be preferable to this game with Obito.

I peeked around corners. I had no idea where I was going, but I kept going.

Unfortunately, my good luck avoiding Akatsuki members was gone, because around the next corner, I saw Itachi. Even with his eyesight being poor, I knew the jig was up. I could go back the way I came, but knowing a ninja, he'd hear me.

Instead, I took a leap of faith. I ran up to him. His face showed minute shock as he took me in. I could tell he could somewhat recognize me – or who I was supposed to be.

I approached him and in his shock, or because he recognized no danger from me, he didn't stop me from closing in on him.

"Please! Itachi!" I launched at him and while he flinched back slightly, didn't avoid the firm grasp of my hands on my cloak. "You have to help me!"

I could see his mind whirling with possibilities.

"I have to get out of here. He's keeping me here for himself. I have to get to Konoha! Please, I need Kakashi. Help me for Kakashi, please."

He appeared flabbergasted, but then his face tightened and then smoothed out into an apathetic look.

"Rin Nohara." He said tonelessly. "I don't know how you managed to survive, but if you're here, then you're needed for the cause."

I trembled and my hands clenching his cloak shook with fear. "Please. I'll do anything. I…I know things. Look into my mind. Use Tsukiyomi. You'll understand why I have to get out of here."

I could sense his reluctance behind that cold façade.

"You're not a traitor. I know that. I know what Danzo did. I know what the plans for the Akatsuki are. I know what happened to Shisui. Please, Itachi, you have to believe me!"

I started to shake with unrestrained sobs as I finally started to lose control of my emotions. I had wanted to go through this without showing fear; without giving up any weaknesses, but it was too much. It was too real and he was my only hope right now.

I felt one of his hands on my chin and it lightly lifted it so I'd meet his gaze. Then I saw black and red.