For farfallanera's birthday, on livejournal. This was supposed to be about 1000 words. Umm...oops! That's not a bad thing at all though! I really hope she likes it!
warnings: bondage
A Greater Cause
The light was unnatural, and it cast crude shadows across the walls. She drifted along the hallway, a mere whisper of a girl. Hinata had always been terrible at games. Hanabi had snickered whenever she had tried to fool her, her beautiful black hair rippling as she tossed it behind her.
Her harsh, proud laughter still rang in Hinata's ears. She had died fighting with only one working arm, gasping a battle cry, sword plunged into one final neck. And Hinata had but quietly surrendered, the first and the last thing the sudden Hyuuga leader could do for her fallen clan.
"There is not a game today," Kabuto would say mildly, thumbing through crusty pages. The light beside him waned, and crumbled with a dying flicker. "Get me a new candle."
A game, a game, let's play a game. Not tonight, not tonight, tonight.
But Hinata knew that it all was a game, a hide-and-seek that stretched for miles across this endless sea of tunnels. She had tried to escape once, walking with faked innocence that crumbled as she grew increasingly panicked.
"Welcome back, Hinata," was all her makeshift master had to say, an amused smile tickling the corners of his lips. "Did you have a good outing?"
It ended up worse than the punishment she had been dreading. "I'm sorry, Kabuto-san." A lie covered in truth and leaden with dread.
"It's quite alright, but I've afraid you've missed supper. What a pity." His fingers rubbed a worn cloth over his glasses, head nodding to a hidden rhythm. "Come here."
She could feel her legs quivering as she stepped to his side.
"Orochimaru-sama finds you a rather attractive young lady." He settled the glasses over the bridge of his nose. "If you can get him to…enjoy himself…well, do you like pretty dresses? Pearls? Fine food?" A friendly chuckle that only froze the ice that had crept over her skin.
"I'd prefer to stay here, Kabuto-san," she whispered, feet shuffling closer to the man who she had spent the last month serving.
His lean finger trailed up her neck, and forced her bowed head to rise. "I'm trying to help you." His eyes danced with pity, but the game was still on.
She hated his games, and she hated how behind those big round glasses there was a wicked amusement. Not like Hanabi, whose games had been fun, even though Hinata had always lost. "You're so kind to me…" She hated how he made her open her mouth and spill lies, spill lies just like he did. Hinata had always believed that telling the truth was paramount to goodness.
Without responding he rose, shutting his book with a light puff of ancient air. A bit of dust billowed up and spread. "Would you like to go?"
He allowed her silence as he sent his chair scrapping across the stone floor. She felt his eyes moving over her body, examining her curves and the way her long hair flowed over her shoulders.
"No." Before her capture she would have been offended, yet silent, and when she had been younger she would have stuttered, panicked, hands twisted and turning behind her back. But the world was old, and she had seen it in its full horror. Now, she was merely content to tell the truth for once in this fragile existence.
"You're apparently what he wants this…month?" Kabuto shrugged, tugging off his shirt and handing it to her. "I would go." It was supposed to be 'advice.' If I were you…
But Kabuto had stumbled, the first error she had ever seen him make in front of her. His eyes snapped to her face, and she averted her eyes.
He caught himself so smoothly she didn't even notice a transition. "But I'll protect you, starling, if you'll be a good girl and stay in my nest." His eyes were tender as he his hand gripped her shoulder. Just the perfect amount of pressure. "Orochimaru-sama's castle is a scary place for a poor little leaf chuunin. Especially a poor little leaf chuunin who doesn't do what Orochimaru-sama desires."
And you've been good to me, she thought wearily, and you've never hurt me, and you give me a mat to sleep on, and you feed me good food. It all went unsaid, because it was unnecessary to repeat such things.
How easy were the mock decisions made in slavery. "Where else would I go but here, Kabuto..sama?" Her voice trembled slightly; his eyes were not on her face, but again on the bust of her worn brown dress.
"Good girl," he whispered, taking his sweet time. His hand crept over her cheeks, fingers brushing a lock of hair behind her ears. "I'm going to get you a pretty new dress."
Unwittingly stupid. She had not meant for this. She had not meant to escape one unwelcome bed simply to be forced into another.
He motioned her into his bed that night, and she curled up beside his naked chest, afraid that any second hands would ease her skimpy nightgown up her hips. At least they weren't the hands of a snake, pale blue and wrinkled in the shallow light. But no hands moved that night, and the next they only brushed her hair tenderly. Still, she shivered.
"I know you're trying to escape."
The accusations were getting worse and worse, and he was cornering her, forcing her to revert into what she had tried so hard to change. She swallowed uneasily, licking her lips in a futile attempt to moisten them. "No, I was just getting—"
"Don't try to lie to me, Hinata." He circled her, feet making soft patters against the stone. But because they were Kabuto's footsteps, and only his, they sent her heart jumping with fear. She didn't know why she was afraid, because nothing ever came of his...his paranoia.
"I know that it doesn't take a person that long to go get the equipment I need. You were looking for a way out. Don't lie, now. You know I hate lying."
Oh, you bastard, Hinata thought nastily. Her breathe hastened, and she felt her hands moving for each other. She felt her index fingers twitching. "I'm not lying."
"Oh, another lie. Not good, not good at all." A dry chuckle. "Well, I can see why the Hyuuga family wasn't very pleased with you."
"I—" She knew what her father would think if he could see her now.
He grasped her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "At least your sister was brave enough to fight. You just surrendered. Hmm…I don't think that's very heroic." He shrugged. "But…what am I to know of the Hyuuga clan. Maybe it's tradition that they be always as weak as you are."
She squirmed before squaring her shoulders, but she could not stop herself from trembling. His eyes abused her with their opaqueness. Somehow the mystery of what was behind them was unbearably frightening. "The o-only way to save th—"
"The 'only' way? Would that have stopped your father?" He gave her a wry smile. "I think you should be more grateful to me. I'm kind to you. I keep something as worthless as you around, out of the goodness of my heart."
Closing her eyes, Hinata willed herself to die. She felt like she was standing in front of her father again, small and helpless. But she knew that now she couldn't curl up alone at night, and cry.
He would move a tiny bit closer to her every time they slept together, and she would squeeze her eyes tight and pray to something that lurked above those catacombs of stone. She knew that the lie was he was being patient and courteous, and that the truth was he was enjoying it when she tensed and quivered. She wished he would just get it over with.
She ran back to his lab with the book he needed, long hair flopping behind her. Her breathe caught in her throat, and she knew her body was so much weaker than it once was. It was worse to know though, that now, she didn't even care.
"Oh thank you, Hinata dear. You seem to be on time this morning. How lovely." He took the volume from her, and his smile was beautiful. "And it's the right one! Good girl."
She gasped her relief, unable to stop the grateful tears from welling up in her eyes. It was all wrong; everything was horribly terrible and wrong. It had to be if all she wanted was his smile and approval. The constant fear that curled in her chest drove her to pursue these brief moments of harmony, because they were the only thing she had.
"But you're so out of breath. Why is that? You should not have needed to have been running."
Her heart plummeted. "It…took me a long time…to find the book. And I did not want to be late…so…I ran."
"Hmmm."
She glanced away, biting her lip. A small whimper arose in her throat. No—I thought I'd have a good day with him…
He gave her a knowing look, and then walked away.
God—no. She felt so, so small and helpless, and even though he was there, she sunk into the corner, gagging on her tears.
The night he took her she lay like a doll, because she had believed it would thrill him. She was another experiment, and she lay on his operating table. He smiled at her. She was getting good at games, and she knew what the truth was behind that smile, and the lie. Neither of them cried out. She gasped, he grunted, and she knew he was enjoying the process about as much as she was.
But now she couldn't figure out what the truth was, or even the lie, as she rolled over, pushing her nightgown desperately over her venerable body. Why? Why was he doing this if he wasn't getting pleasure from it? She knew it wasn't because he was simply sadistic. Every thing Kabuto did had a purpose.
"A good starling," he whispered in her ear.
She shuddered.
"Next time I go for something at the library, you should come with me, and see how long it takes me to get there. Then you'll know how long, every time I go." She stared right back into his eyes, allowing the glow of triumph to surround her.
There was a brief silence. Kabuto's face twisted into a pleased smirk. "A very good game, huh, my bird?"
Hinata had become used to this strange arrangement, games, lies, truths. But, then, he came, his huge presence making her shrink into the corner like she was twelve again. Kabuto's voice became somewhat softer, respectful. They talked, battles, deaths. She felt herself listening for any signs of Shino, Naruto, Kiba…Neji. He was about to leave, and she felt dizzy with relief. But he turned.
She gasped as Orochimaru came towards her, a smirk on his face as he grasped her shirt and pulled her towards him. "Protecting this wrench?" He turned to Kabuto craftily. "She's so fragile. You know me too well." A hand examined her lazily.
Kabuto gave him a smile of frost. "Oh, I don't know you that well, Orochimaru-sama." His eyes stayed far too long on his superior's body, only trailing off before it was blatantly obvious he had been looking.
Orochimaru's shoulders rippled with laughter. "You know you're the only one who'd I'd let look at me like that."
"And I'm lucky indeed." Kabuto glared at her. She knew he wanted her to leave the room.
But it wasn't for her protection. It was hate. A hate born of jealousy. She crumpled to the ground, reaching a shaking hand out for Orochimaru's pants.
She had learned the game, and now she knew how to play, too. Thank you, Kabuto, she thought, for teaching me. Behind the hair falling over her face, she smiled.
"Did you know I killed your dear Neji?" Orochimaru snapped the shackles onto her wrists, suspending her hands above the bed. "He begged to have you back. Oh, he looked quite in pain. Your family curse seals seem to be very effective, hmm?" He straddled her, tongue flickering out and caressing her face.
She shut her eyes, afraid because she could feel nothing except the empty pit in the bottom of her stomach. So, Neji was dead. Somehow, this was all way to far away to matter. She opened her legs.
"Aren't you going to fight me?" He looked disappointed.
Hinata shook her head.
Yes, he was cruel. Despite his careless gifts, tossed to her after eons of violence, blood, and sex, she hated this bleak existence. The makeup he gave her soon required huge amounts to cover up the weariness in her eyes and the paleness of her cheeks. She quivered and wavered, bowing and scrambling about his eerie chambers. Her voice was a squeak, a mere whisper, and she cowered and begged. It was easy to fall into a role she had once played naturally.
But the game was marvelously wrought, and unlike Kabuto, he didn't understand that he was inside a game while he abused her. A master game, one that Kabuto could have wrought.
She didn't know how long she had been restricted to him and his reptilian quarters. For days, weeks he would disappear, and she would curl up alone, so impossibly relieved. She spent those precious hours pouring over his ledgers and his notes, taking in his positions and his numbers, his useless ramblings about power and immortality, and his essential decisions. She was pretty sure that she could never use it, but it passed the days.
He was getting bored of her: she could tell. But it wasn't a bad thing. It made him less alert to her presence. The night she spirited away his knife into the pockets of her silky dress he merely pushed her out of his way.
"His flesh tasted marvelous on my lips, but I wasn't finished with him…" Orochimaru smiled down at her, pleased that his was inciting such a violent reaction. "He begged me to stop, so I stopped…cutting him and hacked off his right arm."
"P-pl-ease s-t-stop talk-ing," Hinata gasped, shaking and shivering beneath his icy touch.
"Oh." He gave her a smile of fake distress. "Was I boring you? Oh, I'm so sorry. Let's just get to it then."
The blood poured onto her half-exposed breasts, and she stared blankly into those stunned serpentine eyes before panic exploded inside of her. Failing and stabbing wildly, she could hear herself screaming and sobbing. But Hinata wasn't really there, not anymore. It was Hinata screaming, but somebody else was driving a knife repeatedly into another human being's chest.
A moan—and— Stunned, she pushed the limp body off of her, stumbling to her feet. Her toes barely felt the smooth stone beneath her, and she almost tripped. The knife tumbled to the ground. Blood dripped from her silk nightgown, making soft splatters against the floor. Drip, drip. She couldn't look behind her.
She did not try to run, and only waited on the bed. A small waif in a bloody nightgown, kicking her feet weakly into the air. She knew they could come, see her triumph, and execute her. Maybe Kabuto would even torture her.
But she knew she had beheaded the monster, and that now, his swarms were like a snake without a head. Up and down her feet went, and on her face played a wan smile. The blood congealed, striking a sharp contrast against her pale skin. Falsehood and deceit were merely means to a greater end, only tools for important causes. And if she would look towards the mirror to her right, she would see somebody else staring back. She would recognize that smile, those mildly raised eyebrows. But she would no longer be afraid.
