Hi everyone!

Planning on doing a binge upload today! A Girl and a Mountain, Surprise, Bitches!, and Bloody Kisses should all be updated, and possibly a few others too! Enjoy!

11.

She wasn't released from the bed for the next several hours, and when he did let her up, he restrained her hands with metal handcuffs, gave her the discarded clothing from the night before, and led her to the bathroom—it was, apparently, the only freedom he would allow her at this point.

Once she had relieved herself and he had released her just long enough to put on her clothes, Madara put her back in the same position as before, except that he fastened her left arm back into the ties.

"I can't have you running off now, can I?" he said with amusement, responding to her unspoken question. Sakura lay quietly, immersed in her own depressing thoughts.

He wasn't going to let her go ever, she could already see that without him saying it aloud. This is your home. She had never wanted someone to take back their words as much as she did now.

Boredom was worse for her than it had ever been before. Just twenty-four hours ago, if she had been bored, she could read a book, play a game on her cellphone, call up a friend to chat, go for a walk—there had been numerous things to do to alleviate that. But even if she hadn't had anything to do, she hadn't had dark, miserable thoughts running through her head nonstop, and there was nothing she could do to distract herself from them.

The ceiling didn't have anything for her to count, the window was curtained, and she didn't particularly feel like memorizing her surroundings because she was terrified to know that there might actually be a time where they'd become familiar, and that was the last thing she wanted.

She cried a little, tears silently streaking down to the pillow beneath her past her temples, but it didn't last long. She wasn't sure if maybe it was shock, but her emotions felt stifled somehow, especially after the morning activities. They were still there, of course, roiling and bubbling just beneath the surface, but that surface was a lid of lead, not allowing any to take root in her psyche. The tears felt more reflexive than of emotion—the physiological aspect of her feelings was apparently not going to be contained by that lid.

She wasn't sure how long she lied there, but as much as she thought that she wanted to be free, when Madara arrived to free her for the second time, she realized that she would have rather stayed away from him.

"I'm sure you're hungry," he said as he undid the restraints. It hadn't been a direct question and Sakura felt no need to respond, so she settled for rubbing circulation back into her hands.

She didn't see it, but his brows furrowed momentarily and then he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"Come. I've made you something to eat."

Sakura was first surprised, then immediately suspicious, because the last time that she had ingested what he'd given her, she'd ended up in an unenviable position. Still, food was food, and the metal handcuffs didn't make a reappearance. With her wrists just now getting released from any sort of constraints, she wasn't eager to pull something to escape when her chances were so low, so she decided that today would not be a day for attempting escape unless it was completely surefire.

She wasn't going to get her hopes up for any of that, though.

Sakura followed her captor through the house towards the back, where they arrived at a large dining room with two places set. She was momentarily surprised that there didn't seem to be any sign of life in the household—didn't he have servants or a chef or even a maid? With his status, surely he would have some? But then again, it was a Saturday, and being the arrogant bastard that he was, he probably didn't want to be home while the 'help' was around.

In a parody of chivalry, he pulled out her seat for her. Sakura sat stiffly and eyed the omelet and rice that had been laid out for her. It was simple, although she wouldn't have expected anything different. He was having the same, and it surprised her that he would settle for anything less than five-star food. Then again, all her expectations regarding this monster had been disproved; she needed to forget everything she knew about him and start from scratch.

He noticed her hesitance to eat the food and chuckled. "Don't worry; it's not drugged. There's no need for that now."

She promptly felt like vomiting at his callously blunt words.

When she still didn't eat, although for a different reason that he apparently assumed, he said, "A hunger strike will not instill empathy in me, Sakura-chan. You're better off keeping up your strength. It's not drugged, so eat."

There was an order in that statement, and increasing impatience. Swallowing down bile, she took a tentative bite.

It was good enough. A little bland, but no worse than she would have done on her own. She ate mechanically, not really tasting the food beyond the first bite to check for odd flavors—because like hell was she going to take the monster's word on the integrity of her food—until she couldn't stomach another bite. She pushed her plate away, and upon inspection, found that what had felt like a lot of food had only been barely half of what she had been served.

Madara looked from the plate to her skeptically, then continued eating until he was done. Even though she had no desire to be around him, she knew that getting up and walking out of the dining room—even if it was just to go back to the only room she knew—would not be a good idea. Right now, she had no wiggle room. In fact, other than knowing that he planned to keep her here indefinitely and do horrible things to her against her will, Sakura actually had no idea what was going on.

When Madara was done—he'd eaten everything—he leaned back, sighed contentedly, and then looked at her.

"I'm sure you have questions."

She stared back at him blankly. Asking questions about her situation felt like implicitly agreeing to what he was putting her through. She wasn't going to do that.

Once it became clear she wasn't going to speak, he huffed an amused laugh, but there was a dark undertone to it that Sakura knew held a warning: he didn't like her silence. However, she wasn't going to change her behavior until she had ample reason to. At this point, bending to his will without question would only damn her further.

She remained unspeaking.

Something hardened in his eyes and Sakura's back stiffened of its own accord. "You're not making this easy, Sakura," he said, a threat in his voice.

She didn't care.

"Why would I want to make it easy for you, you prick?" she spat, anger rearing up and taking her vocal chords by storm as though it were a physical entity. "If it's so damned hard, then just let me go!"

He smiled a razor-sharp smile and his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Is that how you feel then, Sakura-chan? You want me to let you go?"

"Of course I do!" she snarled. She was unconsciously leaning forward with a contemptuous look on her face, all of her body language showing that she was raring for a fight.

"How tragic for you, then." He too had been leaning forward, but now he reclined in his chair and watched her closely. "Because that's not going to happen. The only person you will be making things harder for by defiance will be yourself."

"Why?" she demanded. Tears were starting to fill her eyes and she wanted them to go away, but there was nothing she could do. "Why are you doing this?"

"I don't think that's important right now."

She bared her teeth like a feral animal. "Will it ever be important?" she hissed.

He smirked at her keenness. "Probably not, no."

Sakura felt an impulse to leap forward and attack her captor that was almost impossible to restrain, but she did so in the end, if only because she wasn't ready for the consequences. She knew attacking him wouldn't allow her to escape, and whatever part of her mind that was still functioning rationally told her that physical force needed to be utilized at a crucial moment—he was too much larger and stronger for her to wound him in any useful way with an attack he was prepared for. She forced herself to sit back, although she was breathing heavily with repressed fury, and turned her head away, focusing on nothing.

"For now, I expect that you'll need a few ground rules," Madara began, his voice even and calm. "Obviously, you're not to try to escape or leave in any capacity. You'll do what I tell you to—unless we're in bed." She could hear the disgusting glee in his voice. "Then, feel free to defy me all you want."

It took all of her self-control not to retch in his direction and hope her vomit on him would turn him off her forever. In truth, it would only make things worse for her, and what if he killed her? She had no idea how he would react—she only knew how reasonable people would, and Madara was certainly not a reasonable human being.

"You'll eat when you're given food, you'll bathe when you're told to bathe, and you'll behave the way you're expected to behave," he went on. Sakura found his last words justifiably questionable.

"And how exactly am I expected to behave?" she asked snidely.

He chuckled. "However I wish you to."

It wasn't her imagination: she could feel the burning of food and stomach acid creeping up her esophagus. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to let it out freely or fight it, but either way she was certain that if he continued talking in the same vein that he was, she wouldn't have a choice in how her body reacted. It was making its intentions perfectly clear.

She was silent once more and he continued. "You'll drop out of school, of course. You don't need an education as far as I'm concerned and there are plenty of things to do at the office to keep you occupied. In fact, all you need to worry about is doing what I want you to do—other than that, everything in your life shall be taken care of. You won't ever want for anything."

Fighting the urge to throw up, she replied shakily, "Except freedom."

Madara rolled his eyes. "That is patently overrated."

She had, at most, ten seconds. "Bathroom," she croaked, fighting her body's impulse. She stood shakily and made to move, but Madara quickly restrained her against his body.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked harshly.

"Bathroom," she choked out. Saliva flooded her mouth. "I'm going to vom-"

She retched heartily then, although nothing thankfully came up, but she knew that the next time it happened, she would lose everything she'd eaten in the last twelve hours, namely the food that had just been made for her. Thankfully, the retch convinced Madara that she wasn't making a bid for freedom and quickly led her to the nearest guest bathroom.

Sakura didn't know how to feel that Madara patiently held her hair back while she vomited. All she knew was that she didn't like the intimacy or concern for her wellbeing that the action conveyed.

When she was done, she was given a toothbrush and toothpaste to clean up with. That also felt invasive, and if she hadn't been concerned for the state of her teeth, she would have declined. Having a toothbrush at another person's house signified that you were over there often and felt at home there, enough that you would have something of your nightly ritual stored there. Having one here was just repulsive.

Still, she brushed her teeth and rinsed with water, Madara standing behind her and watching all the while. She didn't want to know what he was thinking, but she was sure that she would find out soon enough.

She would have thrown up again if she hadn't already emptied everything from her body.

When she was done, she turned to her captor and waited for him to show her out. Sakura knew that if his immediate reaction to her moving without prior warning or permission was to restrain her, and she knew that his attraction to her must be great for him to go these lengths, and that violence was not a turn-off for him, it was better to let him guide her at this point. She couldn't handle anything else today.

"I think it's best that you rest for today," he said, the slightest hint of concern in his voice. His lips were curled downward in a frown, and Sakura could see nothing good coming of that expression.

Still, she wouldn't mind resting if it meant being away from him. Sakura rather thought that if she could drown herself in sleep she would—just sleep through everything that he was going to put her through.

Just sleep, and escape.

He led her back to the room she had dubbed her official prison and when he motioned for her to lie down, she did, but when he grabbed her hand to tie it with the leather again, she begged quietly, "Please…it's so uncomfortable…" She resisted his motion, and he yanked past her feeble resistance and tied it up again.

"We're not at that point in our relationship, Sakura-chan," he said, sounding like he hadn't just nearly torn her arm out of its socket—or so it had felt like.

"Just one then," she pleaded. "I won't be able to sleep." She looked up at him and imagined she was plenty pitiful in his eyes. She couldn't help that, but if it allowed her to sleep comfortably, or at least not entirely uncomfortably, she would take it.

He assessed her for a long moment, then took her left arm and reattached the leather tie to it so she was forced flat on her back. She cried out, misery tripled by the sheer callous cruelty.

"If you behave, perhaps next time," he told her, and then exited the room.

As far as captors went, Sakura didn't think she could do much worse.

As of next chapter, I will be changing suspense to horror. Things are getting darker than I expected. Please heed trigger warnings!