Disclaimer: I own nothing but the general plot and OCs

Hopefully this chapter isn't as much of a killer as the last one?

The reception to the last chapter was awesome, thank you guys! I was worried that after so long interest would have died in the story but I'm glad that so far it's proved untrue.

I have this chapter and then four more waiting to be posted so you should have maybe a week or so of steady chapters incoming?

As always, I have no beta and there's been no editing or proof reading.

Also, I know I've always put English underlined whenever I remember to do so, but I figured most of you can guess when a character is speaking English based upon who they are, who they're talking to and how foul their language is? I will still underline if it's plot relevant that they're talking/writing in English - such as discussing important secrets, in code, or in front of people who don't know about the language. It's not really relevant for this chapter I don't think, but for future reference.

It has been suggested to me that with the increase of traumatic events that Sonaru is exposed to in this section of the story, I should include a helpline for anyone who feels this triggers their own trauma and needs to talk to someone. And I agree:

UK

Samaritans number (24/7): 116123 -from any phone

Or 0330 094 5717 -local charges apply

Alternatively you can go to: h ttps:/ /www. nhs. uk/conditions/stress-anxiety-depression/mental-health-helplines/ and find whichever helpline you feel most covers your needs. Obviously take out the spaces between the h and t, the two /, and after the two dots.

USA

NAMI number (Monday - Friday 10am - 6pm est): 18009506264

Or NMIH number (Monday - Friday 8.30am - 5pm est): (866) 615-6464

My readers are mainly from the US or UK, so I've included those - if you have a better number or just another one you think I should add, pm me or let me know in your review.

Also if you believe I should include a number from another country, let me know which country, organisation and what the number is and I'll add it.

Anyways! Thank you so much for awesome reviews, as well as favs and follows! Let me know what works, or what doesn't work for you, as well as any prompts for scenes you'd like to see.

Chapter 52 - Sick Like Me

Kuchisake was worried about how quiet I was being, but I played it off as part of the side effects from the meds. The near miss of my escape hurt and, combined with the resurgence of memories from my early childhood, had me feeling bitter and depressed.

Medical began to take my blood regularly, measuring my chakra and observing it for changes. What exactly they were hoping for, I wasn't sure; it wasn't like they bothered to sit me down and explain to me what they were doing at any point.

I'd expected to feel tired and unwell at the daily removal of blood from my body but, beyond the usual feeling like shit that the pills caused, I only noticed a minor increase in dizziness.

It became apparent fairly quickly that my chakra levels were being recorded as the same amount over and over again, with no changes at all. Further in depth tests came back positive for some sort of congenital chakra disability.

I carefully pretended that I had no idea what they were talking about, the information too advanced to understand at my 'young age', but I observed with some relief that nothing seemed to change in their plans or attitude toward me.

The only hint came from a throwaway comment Hiroshi made, his quizzical no-eyebrow expression making everything he said sound harmless, "No worries, she'll just be of no use doing the usual when we're done."

I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing, but from the way Shion relaxed it was probably in my favour.

I watched with a mixture of dismay and relief as the needles in my skin every day began causing scars on the inside of my arm. I didn't like what they were doing to me, and the marks on my arms were a reminder that tomorrow would bring more of the same, but at the same time I found a sort of pleasure at physical proof of the damage staying at the facility was doing to me. I always preferred physical scars over mental ones – I considered them evidence that I had survived damage and moved on from it, like badges of strength. I thought of scars like the full stops of my suffering; yes, I had experienced pain, and there was a story about each one but they were also a visible end to that pain.

I wasn't sure if the marks developing on my arms were just a natural result of the needle going in so many times, or if it was only people with shitty technique that caused them, but soon I began to match the rest of the kids who were primarily there for experimentation purposes.

After the experience of being locked in the chest with the scowly burn mark kid, I no longer got alone time in the training room. There was always someone there supervising me or other kids using the room. He didn't speak to me, and barely looked at me, but he would sit next to me as he practiced his light exercises and I kept up my flexibility.

I didn't mind – the company was nice but the comfortable silence was even nicer. I could spend time with someone with barely a façade in place and it wasn't until something heavy lifted off my shoulders and chest for just a few hours that I realized how exhausting and stressful keeping up my role of Sona was all the time without break.

Days rolled by with agonising monotony; I spent time with Shion, she forced kisses and caresses onto me while increasingly pushing past my boundaries, I read and lost at shogi and played go, I had blood drawn and chakra measured, I took the pills, I exercised in silence, I didn't sleep, I lost control of my bladder, I lost control of my limbs, I lost control of my senses, I lost control of my brain, I vomited, I bled from my nose, I cried from the pain in my stomach or brain. Shion watched on with possessiveness and distress, Nagao with satisfaction, the medical children with understanding and everyone else with apathy.

Watching as a young child fell on the floor seizing, or vomiting blood, or suddenly showing completely altered behavior as they threw terrifying rage attacks or withdrew completely into themselves… it had a deeper impact on me than going through it myself. When it was happening to me it was still horrible, but I was comforted by the knowledge that although I was struggling mentally, I was also getting by – I took strength in my snarky internal commentary and my determination to get out of here. When I had to witness it in another, I had no such guarantees. I didn't know if that child had the strength and mental fortitude to live past what was being done to them or if I was standing there watching them break.

Sometimes I waited until Kuchisake was asleep before I let myself cry out the pain and self loathing of having to stand by and do nothing – their suffering haunted me far more than my own.

One day I turned up to the training room, with many familiar faces already using it, and approached Scarred'n'Scowly only to see him sitting with someone already. He looked almost amiable, and when I got a better look at the kid he was with my heart squeezed painfully. It was a tiny girl – she looked to be two years old, with light brown curly hair, knobbly knees, a dimple on her right cheek and twice as many track marks on her arms as any other medical kid I'd seen.

I approached uncertainly, not sure if I wanted to be around something that hurt me to look at. Scarred'n'Scowly spotted me, looking marginally less scowly than usual and opened his posture enough that I knew he wanted me to sit near him.

I couldn't take my eyes off her for more than a few seconds as she squeezed herself closer to him, twiddling a ribbon she gripped like it was a comfort blanket to her. The ribbon was a little tattered and chewed looking, and whatever colour it had been originally I couldn't have guessed accurately.

She was so vulnerable and young that I couldn't bear the sight of her in the facility. I sat down without a word to either of them and turned my gaze away hoping that doing so would help reduce the feeling of someone's fist around my heart. I stared at the floor for a long moment, but I couldn't prevent the silent tears from welling up and spilling over. This wasn't okay. I wasn't okay.

"Feel bad for them," a surprisingly rough voice stated. My head snapped round to Scarred'n'Scowly in surprise and saw him grimacing at the other children, who were there for intense shinobi training.

"Huh?"

He rolled his eyes at me and scoffed, "Don't feel bad for us. Feel bad for them."

"Why?"

"None of their parents want them," he shrugged, picking at a scab on his arm absently. The curly haired, dimple cheeked, ribbon twiddling heart wrencher plopped herself by his side, staring off at the wall and trailing her ribbon along the floor.

I rubbed my wet cheeks and raised my brow curiously, "How do you know that?"

"'Cos they all come from the same place," He frowned irritably at me, before turning back to his scab picking.

"So?"

"So," he snippily replied, a slight growl to his tone, "Their Kage or whatever, he asks their parents to give them up so he can send them here to become shinobi. Their parents know they'll never see them again and some of them might die but they still send them. A couple of them say their parents didn't want to, but they got taken anyway. A lot of them say their parents created them for the Kage."

"But not the medical kids?"

"No. We're from all over the place."

"Oh… what are we here for, then?" I asked, confused and wary.

His lips turned down and he looked witheringly at me, "I don't know." Then he huffed with a roll of his eyes and turned away, clearly very much done with the conversation.

God, the sass of this child.

But it did explain some of why this facility existed in the first place. My first real answers regarding this place, if not the answers I was looking for.

This was essentially somewhere to indoctrinate and dehumanise the children away from the influencing factors of their families, in order to turn them into remorseless killers for their Kage, at the permission of most of their parents. Because that was bound to result in stable members of society without a huge range of issues. Fuck this place.

Shion came to pick me up early that day, and the delighted expression on her face when she saw all three of us sitting together had me suspicious – the pale-eyed woman liked to keep me as socially isolated as she could, and so seeing me potentially making friends should not have had her looking so pleased.

"It's great to see you making friends, Sweet thing. I'll have to make sure you're both here together more often," her scars stretched with her smile, but I saw the shadow of calculation behind it and made note of the fact that although she then bent over and cooed over the Little Heart Wrencher, she hadn't mentioned the girl in her statement.

True to her word, Scarred'n'Scowly was there every time I showed up to the training rooms. More often than not Little Heart Wrencher was also there, twiddling the dirty frayed ribbon round and round her fingers. Although he never warmed up to full conversations with me – he didn't seem like the conversational type to be honest – he began to reveal nuggets of knowledge about the facility that I hadn't learnt due to my highly restricted exposure to other people.

He told me about medical and military not trusting each other and barely having anything to do with each other, with three exceptions; Nagao, Kuchisake and Hiroshi – who was apparently head of medical, which surprised me.

I learnt that all medical children began more serious training after their purpose was served in medical, until they'd learned the basics, and were then sent elsewhere – if they lived that long – although nobody knew where and nobody heard from them again.

Suddenly I had a better understanding of why Shion was insistent that I pretend my chakra didn't work properly. If I was no use as a shinobi then I was no of no use wherever they were sending these children after they were done with them.

I learnt that although the place was supposed to be equally military and medical, medical got priority and the shinobi here resented them – with extra suspicion thrown in because apparently no fucker but medical themselves and probably Nagao knew what they were trying to achieve.

"Don't tell me personal information unless it's useful to me," I once told him dully, "Not about any of the kids here."

"Why not?" He archly questioned. I looked away and grimaced.

"I'll get out of here one day," I quietly uttered, "I'm going to get away and I don't have the skill to take anyone with me. Your existence… all of you… you're going to haunt me as it is. Wondering what happened to you, if you got away, if life got even worse or if you're still stuck here. It'll be difficult enough without knowing the details of the lives you once had."

There was a prolonged silence before he lightly scoffed, "No one escapes. Most of us don't have anywhere to escape to."

I shrugged, unwilling to argue. He may not have believed me, but he never told me anything personal about himself.

It was such a simple thing that connected the dots together for me, explaining why I had been taken.

All it took was Ike being a little lax with her wrists as she held my medical files, too busy trying to get under Shion's skin. The file dipped, allowing me to run my eyes over the information inside. It took a few seconds to translate what I had seen upside down.

"Those are my medical files," I frowned, speaking without thinking.

Ike's attention diverted to me, following the direction of my gaze and straightening her wrist up, "Yes," she replied, a sugary hint of patronization in her voice, "We record everything we do here with you and it gets added to your files."

"But…those dates were from years ago," my mind ran at a million miles an hour to figure out how the fuck they'd gotten hold of my files as Hatake Subaru. Not only were they under the impression that I was Igarashi Sona only, but my medical files were supposed to be incredibly difficult to get hold of.

"That's right, Sweet thing. We were sent your medical files so that we'd be as informed as possible when we treated you," Kuchisake jumped in.

I was baffled and more than a little frightened. Someone had not only managed to get their hands on my medical files, but had done so without even truly realising what they had found.

[Breathe. Think. You were still connected to those files.]

The name and identity of Igarashi Sona had been connected to the medical record of Hatake Subaru. Why?

[Sona and Subaru. Regardless of the clothes and name and paper history, they have the same biology.]

For the first time, I considered the details behind creating the identity of Igarashi Sona. I'd had little to do with it, but from what I understood the exact same process had been followed for any other undercover identity. There was a chance that the civilian heir of the Igarashi clan had been given a copy of Hatake Subaru's medical information so that the identity held up under medical scrutiny.

But would that not put clans with clan secrets related to their biology at risk of immediate discovery in such a situation? Except the Hatake clan wasn't supposed to have any clan secrets related to what had been written in my medical records, so there probably wouldn't have been anything omitted for Sona's.

And, of course, civilian Igarashi Sona's medical files were given the exact same level of security as any other civilian clan member. Nowhere near the level of Hatake Subaru.

[Nothing explicitly written about the Ketsuryugan written in the medical files. They had to have known what they were looking at from the hints given. Whoever arranged the kidnapping already knew of the Chinoike blood limit. High chance that they already knew of your existence, but not your name.]

For someone to already know of my Chinoike heritage but not my Hatake heritage, they were very unlikely to be based in Konoha. It was far more probable that they knew of how this body was created, but little of what happened to me afterward.

Could I be in Kirigakure, where this body was created? But that didn't make any sense; Scarred'n'Scowly had said that the kids were sent here under orders and that this facility was permitted by their Kage, which meant that they would have no interest in keeping me as a pet project for my bloodline. Not when Kiri was embroiled in a civil war over the treatment of people with Kekkei Genkai.

I didn't doubt that my kidnapping and experimentation was perfectly capable of being done by someone who was having others with a bloodline murdered on mass, but there was no way that I would be treated as well as I was in comparison to other kids.

It gave me some clue as to why I had been taken in the first place, but I still had no idea where I was or who had taken me or what their intentions were for me.

The dangle of ultimately useless knowledge had me frustrated, which only increased when I began to notice that, while previously I had seen a bit of improvement in my skills from using the training room alone, I was now stuck with flatlining abilities – unable to physically push myself anywhere close to my limit. There was something exhausted and defeated and recklessly angry bubbling underneath the surface of my skin, which had generally stayed to a low simmer but was now heating up without the cathartic release of running myself into the ground.

I hadn't seen Nagao-taichou up close for a little while when Kuchisake dressed me up nicely with fluttery nervous movements that I recognised with dread.

I'd gotten no sleep for days and I was feeling half way insane. My skin ached, my muscles juddered coldly and my bones weighed heavy. My brain floated half a step behind reality while my fine motor functions had given up altogether. My stomach pounded painfully while my blood rushed behind my eyes with uncomfortable pressure.

The trip to Nagao-taichou's office passed in an unrecognizable blur as I was carried too tightly in Kuchisake's arms. She placed me down on the ground, my stomach somehow managing to get exponentially more painful, and knocked on the door as I swayed unsteadily.

I needed to lie down and cry a little.

The door swung open and my vision fuzzed out. When my mind came back online I was inside and Nagao was talking – his cold voice very distinct despite my inability to lift my eyes from the floor.

"-with the progress. This is going far quicker than the initial estimates given to me and I know at least some of that is your priceless assistance. We're moving onto the next stage after one last thorough check-up on the child, and then-"

My vision fuzzed out again as my stomach squeezed and churned overwhelmingly. I whimpered from the pain and effort to stay standing, and vaguely felt a hand grip my arm.

"Quiet, Sweet thing," Shion warned gently, "Apologies, Nagao-taichou. Please continue."

"I truly believe that once we have achieved the first success, I will be given permission to repeat this on more risky combinations," I heard him walk closer, but I was more concerned with the sweat dripping from me and the fire radiating from my stomach.

"She will be my proof," his feet and shins entered my vision and I grimaced as my stomach roiled, "She's going to be magnifi-"

Liquid surged demandingly up my throat and sprayed out of my nose and mouth with impressive velocity.

My tongue and nasal passage were scorched from the sweet-salty-metallic taste heavily mixed into bitter bile and acid as it aimed unerringly across Nagao's expensive office, splattering his neatly pressed trousers and shinobi boots. When I finally had a moment's reprieve, I took a desperate gulp in – focusing intently on calming my protesting stomach as vomit dripped messily down my chin.

With hazy eyes I took in the complete mess I'd made, and realised the huge red stain that liberally decorated the area in front of me revealed I had a fair amount of blood in my puke. I tried to lift my eyes to take in Nagao's reaction and assess how much danger I was in, but my eyes rolled into the back of my head when I tried and I groaned in pain, listing slightly from side to side.

I forced my eyelids open with great effort only to see a fist aiming straight for my face. I stumbled back and fell onto my butt with a weak yelp, but that shouldn't have been enough to avoid the damage. The tight hand wrapped around his wrist belonging to Kuchisake revealed why his fist hadn't caved my skull in.

"Nagao-taichou… please. It's not her fault," Shion murmured, fear thickening her voice as she watched him with anxiety.

He didn't reply, his arctic stare unwavering from my form even as I failed to coordinate my limbs into standing. Panic screamed through the haze at how physically vulnerable I was while less than three feet away from someone who had just tried to kill me, but all I could do was press my hands as hard as I could into the floor to try to orientate myself and stop the room spinning.

At seeing his cold rage, Shion switched track, "Don't hurt her, Nagao-taichou. She's so weak right now, a single blow would kill her. It would be such a waste of her potential."

"Whose fault is it then?" He inquired, a disturbing note in his voice made all the worse by its apparent calmness.

"…What?" She asked, her brow furrowed in confusion, though a knowing dread twisted the scars of her mouth. His eyes flickered to her finally, though they were no less furious.

"There is vomit staining my floor, my feet and my legs. You said it isn't the child's fault, so whose fault is it?" There was something pointed about the way he said it, and Kuchisake's shoulders tensed, even as her hand relaxed and slid from his wrist. Her expression crumpled into a familiar weary and frightened despair.

"Mine," she uttered, barely a breath, "I brought her here even though I knew the side effects of her medication."

His expression settled and froze into an almost peaceful resolve, despite the intensity of his eyes, "Your fault." It sounded like confirmation.

Quicker than I could follow, Nagao moved and Kuchisake was thrown across the room until she hit the wall with a wheeze, her head snapping back with a stomach churning sound.

As though I was transported back to a scene that had played out so many times during my childhood, I sat there uselessly, a silent witness to Kuchisake's punishment. He back handed her, and then pinned her limp body to the wall by her neck with his forearm while the knuckles of other hand mercilessly slammed into her stomach. Her knees moved up to protect her abdomen instinctively, but he gripped her throat and knocked her back against the wall over and over again – the harsh thuds a sickening noise – until she went slack.

He used his grip to throw her across his desk, sweeping everything off and crashing onto the ground - including herself. She curled into a pitiful ball, a whimpering sob escaping her mouth when he approached her determinedly. He kicked her over and over again, and when showed no sign of letting up, she began to scream.

I lost my will to look after that – there was nothing I could do if I found myself in danger suddenly anyway – so I allowed my elbows to unlock and flopped gracelessly onto my back, staring up at the spinning ceiling as the discordant screams and thumps and crashes played loudly for what felt like an eternity.

Not once had Shion's hand even twitched toward the hair pins she wore.

At this rate, I doubted she would use them against him even if it would save her life. I wondered absently, as something made a snapping noise and her scream cut off into ringing silence for long seconds before picking up even more desperate and pained, if she was actually going to leave the room alive. I wondered if I would leave the room alive if she died today.

My ears ached at the noises Kuchisake could make, and I closed my eyes, distracting myself by pondering on the how I felt about dying today. I wasn't afraid of being dead. I wasn't afraid of dying – not anymore. How could I be when it was no longer the great unknown but 'been there done that'? I didn't want to leave Tou-san all alone. It would break him. But I might not have a choice, and I guessed that as long as I tried to put up a fight, I would be content with that. It wasn't how I'd want to die, not by a long shot – but people rarely got the luxury of choice in this.

I made a gurgling moan when the stomach pain increased viciously, and curled in on myself. The ceiling seemed to descend toward me even as it got darker, I hysterically wondered if I was going to get crushed before the entire room went black and white noise was all I could hear.

I didn't know how long I was cocooned in the blackness with the white noise as my only company, but eventually I managed to open my eyes again. Clearly it was longer than I'd thought, because I immediately knew that I was no longer in Nagao's office.

The unmistakable scent of medical, mixed with Shion, blood and tears was the first thing I noticed. The second thing was the arm around me. The third thing was the familiar body wrapped around mine. Fingers carded through my hair and I flinched at the unexpected sensation.

"You awake, Sweet thing?" She tiredly husked into my ear, her lips close enough to brush against me.

I cautiously sat up, assessing my state and concluding that while I still felt like shit, it was the normal kind of feeling like shit. When I looked at Shion, I immediately noticed the black bruises and open wounds she was covered in.

"Why aren't you healed?"

She reached across and held my hand in a cool grasp, "The worst has been healed already. I wanted them to focus on you. You had a stomach ulcer, Sweet thing. It's been treated, and you don't have to take the medication anymore, so you won't get another one. You're okay now." He hand gently stroked my face as she spoke, tucking me closer.

I gave a non-committal hum in reply. I was far from okay, but there was no use mentioning that.

"Is there anyone else in here?" I softly questioned, my eyes closing again.

"No. We'll get a few hours to rest."

"Why did you let yourself take the blame?" My words were blunt, but I didn't have it in me to be diplomatic just then. It was better than what I wanted to ask – demand, really. Better than confronting her on why she didn't even try to defend herself when she had the means to do so tucked in her hair all the fucking time.

I already knew the answer anyway. It was just the angry, bitter voice in the back of my head that didn't give a shit about the psychology of why people stayed with those who hurt them.

"It's my job to look after and protect my children. I do it for the others, Sweet thing, so of course I'd do it for you."

I slowly began to drift back off, my words slurring slightly as I commented, "Some of them call you Kaa-chan, too. But others don't."

"I only ask the ones who are very special to me," her breath tickled my ear as she leaned in slightly to say this. I shuddered at her words just as much as the sensation, as they resonated wrongly in my tired mind. Before I had a chance to consider what she'd said, I slipped into proper sleep for the first time in days.

I had less than twenty four hours to contemplate what it meant to me that Shion had saved my life and in the process risked hers, afterward insinuating that this was far from the first time she had done so for the children.

I'd only had a few hours sleep before we were ousted from the medical room and, although it had apparently been enough for me to feel relatively clear headed, the events of the day before still had me feeling perturbed. I was not in top form when Ike, Miyako, Chou, Kenta and Hiroshi had me repeating all of the medical tests I'd been forced through during the first three days of my stint as an experiment.

Compared to then, I had little energy and coordination so it was hardly difficult to vastly downplay my skills. The major snag came when Hiroshi was busy checking my throat for damage due to the frequent vomiting I had been doing lately, when he shined a light into my mouth.

"What is that?" His quizzical expression somehow becoming even more so. He leaned in even further with a frown and tipped my head further back.

"What is it?" Chou asked, sounding a curious and concerned.

"Stick your tongue out," he told me. I did so, it only just occurring to me what they might be looking at as Chou and Ike leaned closer, peering into my open mouth.

"Is that… a seal?" Ike sounded shocked, which reflected on all their expressions.

"Looks like it," Hiroshi confirmed, "I can't begin to guess what it's doing, though."

"No one here has the knowledge to figure out what it does. I know a little about deconstructing them but that's about it," Miyako stated from behind them.

"You don't think… she's one of his do you?" Chou questioned, suddenly sounding anxious.

My jaw was released and everyone suddenly took a step back from me, as though that would erase all the time they'd already spent fucking with my biology.

There was a pause as they all looked with varying degrees of trepidation at me, before Hiroshi spoke up, "Who gave you that seal?"

I merely shook my head, not entirely certain how much the seal would allow me to give away regarding its creation and purpose, but unwilling to test it for these people.

"She probably can't reveal much about it to us," Hiroshi commented.

"She doesn't act anything like the other emotionless tools," Ike dubiously observed.

[They seem to have familiarity with Root. They know that Root members interacting with non-Root are given a seal. Suggests more than a passing familiarity with the inner workings]

"Maybe she was a new recruit," Chou rebutted, though she also sounded doubtful.

"I don't think so," Hiroshi tilted his head contemplatively at me, "He was involved in getting her here after all. If she was one of his, he would have just sent her."

My thoughts screeched to a halt and I spent a precious few seconds keeping it from my expression.

[Danzo helped in the kidnapping. Danzo has some sort of relationship with this facility]

"How do we know for certain, though?" Miyako added.

Hiroshi shrugged, "We can't. We'll just have to trust that she isn't one of his, and attempt to deconstruct the seal to see what it does."

I visibly jolted at that, garnering their attention once more.

"I'll die," I hurriedly told them.

"Come again?" Hiroshi raised his non-existent brows.

"If you undo it, it will kill me," I imparted as much seriousness as I could into my words – for once completely abandoning my semi-childish character, even if just for a short while – in my desire not to die at the hands of overcurious pricks messing with something they didn't understand.

"How do you know?" Ike challenged.

"I was told." I could see the doubt mixed with wariness in all of them, as they exchanged glances.

"It could have been a lie to discourage anyone from attempting to deconstruct it," Miyako offered Hiroshi, who listened while he looked at me thoughtfully.

"Hmm, I'd suggest proceeding forward. But carefully. If at any point it appears there could be a risk to her health, we stop."

I grit my teeth at the stupid bastards disregarding my words and risking my life in the process, but admitted to myself that there was nothing I could do.

God, if I died because of these morons, I was taking at least one of them with me.

With their decision made, they continued with the thorough examinations and I had little choice but to push my anger down and cooperate. I had become mostly resigned to the fact that no one here really gave much of a shit about my wellbeing – Shion being the most concerned, and even she spent a good portion of her time forcing her revolting affection onto me and toting me from one sociopathic arsehole to another to do as they saw fit with me.

The tests exhausted me far more than they'd done the first time, and once more I was unable to sleep at night. On the third night, facing potential death the next day, I found myself unable to wind down at all.

I fidgeted well into the night, keeping Shion awake until she sighed and held me close, "What can I do to help you sleep, Sweet thing?"

"Distract me," I immediately replied, a hint of desperation showing through.

"Hmm, how about a story?" She suggested sleepily.

"Please," I replied, always interested if rarely approving of the kind of stories Kuchisake told.

She painted the melancholy tale of how her husband received an injury that he never fully recovered from shortly after the end of the civil war ended in Rain, and spiralled into depression when he had to retire. I learned how she worked double time to make ends meet once their daughter was born, while he stayed at home to look after their daughter despite them initially planning for the roles to be reversed. This started festering resentment between them, quiet arguments in the night, long cold silences and an increasingly tighter budget.

With Shion busy working all the hours she could, the gangs took over the area and began to demand regular payment from those in their territory in order to protect them from other gangs. Her husband, unable to defend himself and unable to afford the needs of both himself and his daughter, approached the local gang for a loan.

One loan turned into two and then three, turned into gambling in order to try to pay back the owed money and accumulated into a debt they had no chance of getting out of. Shion, frighteningly aware of what happened to those who found themselves unable to pay back the gang's loans, found the leader before his men could kill her husband, her child and herself.

I was riveted by the story, listening to her tell of the man agreeing to meet with Shion and so she stood in front of him and she pleaded their case – only to find him unmoved by her sentimental reasoning, unmoved by promises of her working for as long as she had to in order to pay him back, unmoved by her begging to save her child at least if he was determined to end it with violence.

When she asked him why he had agreed to meet with her if he was set on killing her and her family, he replied I can be persuaded, but you have yet to offer anything I want. So she asked him what he wanted from her and he beckoned her closer. She hesitantly followed his instructions and stepped toward him until she bent down to hear him quietly state that he wished to have her in his bed.

Faced with the death of her husband and daughter if she said no, she complied. He agreed to allow her another year to pay him back, if she slept with him whenever he called for her. So she worked double time while she sold her body for the lives of her little girl and her bitter husband.

Kuchisake's story drifted off as she fell asleep, mournful regret and deep hateful resentment slowly petering to a stop. I lay awake all night, mulling over what she'd told me and adding it to the knowledge that her daughter and husband had died a year or two after that in some sort of tragedy that had destroyed her.

I spent the next week having my tongue poked and prodded and my seal slowly undone bit by bit as I waited for the moment they would go too far and kill me. I hated that I just sat there and did nothing while they risked my life over and over again, but I had hope that Tou-san and Tenzo's work would prove too complex for them. After all, it was based upon the Root seal in its difficulty to undo, and that had taken Tou-san months to figure out how to get rid of it – after years of familiarity with it and with a far more advanced understanding of fuuinjutsu.

Eventually my hopes were realised, and Hiroshi claimed the seal was too complex for any but a master in the art to undo. It was with relief that my life and secrets were confirmed to be safe – as safe as they could ever be while I was stuck here. However, my relief was relatively short lived when I found myself faced with the 'next stage' of whatever they were doing to me.

When Kuchisake dropped me off at medical and left again, everything seemed to be as normal. But then nothing happened and I realised everyone was waiting for something. That something turned out to be Kuchisake returning with two children I recognised.

The door opened, and holding her hands were Scarred'n'Scowly – bitch face firmly in place - and Little Heart Wrencher, still twiddling her ragged ribbon between her fingers.

"Here we are, beauties, be good, no attitude and no disobedience from either of you," She cheerfully proclaimed, helping both children up onto separate chairs, though I could see the falseness of her cheer and the reluctance in her posture.

Ike looked at the silent, curly haired girl entranced with her ribbon and wrinkled her nose, "What's that disgusting thing in her hands? Get rid of it."

For the first time, the generally solemn faced Little Heart Wrencher showed full awareness of what was going on around her and snapped her gaze to Ike, her eyes filling with betrayed tears rapidly.

"If you want a screaming tantrum throwing child crying until she makes herself sick, be my guest," Shion replied shortly, "She never goes anywhere without the ribbon in her hand. It's harmless and it won't get in the way of what you're doing, so there's no point in taking it."

Scarred'n'Scowly didn't make eye contact with anyone, but his body angled protectively toward Little Heart Wrencher.

"It's fine," Miyako dismissed Ike, "Leave it."

With a kiss to the lips of all three of us Shion left, though not without one last worried look backward at us.

One by one Chou hooked us up to various equipment that I was far too familiar with by now.

"Kenta, bring the bottles," Hiroshi requested, holding his hand out as Kenta handed him a bottle filled with an inky looking liquid and a sealed top. Chou entered my vision, three needles in her grasp.

"Excellent. Chou, take the left, Ike takes the right and I'll do the middle. Kenta, keep an eye on their chakra readings, Miyako, watch their vital signs, Mari, record their brain activity," As he spoke, Kenta handed a bottle each to Ike and Chou, while Chou gave a needle to Ike and Hiroshi. They each punctured the seal of their bottle with the needle and filled it with the unnatural looking black liquid.

I avoided the urge to squirm as Ike approached me, flicking the needle a few times and squeezing a tiny amount back out.

"Everyone ready? Good. Three, two, one."

The needle entered my skin, and I counted another scar to add to the collection. As ominous black liquid entered all three of us slowly, I could have sworn I could feel a chill spread through my veins.

We were all kept for observation for another hour, before Shion arrived get us all, and as I left with the knowledge that we would all be back the next day to do the same, I couldn't help but fear what these chemicals they were putting in my body would do in the long term.

So Sonaru has finally been exposed to the children! How do you think that's going to affect her? Especially seeing the realities of them being experimented on.

Do you think they'll contact Danzō about Sonaru's sealed tongue and kick off a chain of events?

Have your feelings changed at all now you have a little more insight into Shion's past? What about the fact that it's now established that she risks her life via Nagao's temper to prevent the kids from being beaten? Or do you feel that the new information doesn't alter how much you dislike her?

Let me know!