Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Please read: Many thanks for 100+ favourites and 130+ followers! I'm really happy with the reception of this story. Since physical violence, sexual violence, and trauma recovery are very big and very complicated issues to depict using writing, I was worried about whether or not I did an accurate job. Another big thanks to those who bothered to review: nomercypercy, TheHollowWorld, my lovely nameless 'Guest' reviewers, satsuma-chan, Nenebenice, SavingGrace, Yo, Cheerleader, and Driee.
I'd also like to apologize for always taking so long to update. Thank you to those who have been very patient with me. I've been frequently working and slaving over my dissertation, so things have been rather hectic.
Lastly! Please check out 'Hidano' by 'TheHollowWorld' if you're into HidanxIno stories. Seven makes an appearance in there, as well, and the writing style is simply divine. :)
WARNING: Violence, abuse, manipulation, trauma aftermath, and some non-consent.
I was raised from a broken seed,
I grew up to be an unwanted weed.
Held a torch for you when lightning struck me,
Once again, hope I died for the last time.
Seven lives of a man passed before me,
Seven graves, one for every love I've had.
Only once I have broken my so-called heart,
Only one made me see why they cry.
Chapter Six: Broken
"The Seagrave clan has roved from land to land. They originated in the Mist Village, but fled when rumors surfaced that they were carrying out assassination orders."
Though he was smart enough to determine that Anita Seagrave and her infamous clan were not generous enough to share their fortune with them for free, Pein was eager to accumulate the opinions of the other members. Of course, most of them would comprehend that the proposition was nothing more than a silly trap; he had insisted that they gather only the most competent criminals, after all. Nevertheless, the devious Obito Uchiha had wanted to deduce their reasoning skills and overall intelligence for himself.
"I want to see the effort that we have put into building this organization," he had said, his single Sharingan eye boring heavily into his head of shaggy red hair, "I want to see how proficient our foot soldiers are."
The pierced man gazed at each of the Akatsuki members, drinking their expressions slowly, carefully. His sharp gaze nearly swallowed Hidan whole, though the priest was smart enough to act as though he was not the slightest bit intimidated.
Each of the members sat casually at the rectangular table, with their supposed orange-crowned leader at the head. Konan sat closest to her old confidante, eyes closed and face as calm as a summer sea. Across from her was Zetsu, who seemed to be staring into spare, and next to him was a rather disinterested Itachi. Across from Itachi sat Kisame, who had been grinning like a Cheshire cat upon entering the room. Sasori sat nearby, tweaking a few of the poison valves on a puppet, and Deidara sat adjacent, creating small clay creations and occupying his mind with Hidan's latest fancy. Kakuzu looked about as enticed as Kisame, and Hidan was already rolling his eyes in frustration.
Somewhere behind them, Pein could feel the mighty Uchiha listening in on their conversation, gauging everyone's reactions, so that he could determine which members would be the best fit to carry out each of his dastardly tasks.
Kisame snickered softly, clearly amused that their patron had once dwelled within his village, "She is wealthy, and would be a powerful client to have on our side. If she truly has chosen to contribute her family's fortune to our goals, then she must expect something in return. But what do you suppose she wishes of us…?" Instead of looking worried, the blue-skinned man bore the expression of someone who was excited. His tone was sly, suggesting that he had a few ideas of what the woman desired from the vile organization of which he belonged to.
"She has requested our services in return for her fortune," Pein explained, simply.
"It's a tempting offer, but rather translucent." Sasori chimed in, his cold, dead eyes staring down at his latest masterpiece. "If the Seagrave clan are renowned assassins, perhaps someone has hired them to lure us into a trap."
Kakuzu nodded quickly, "Agreed. From what I've heard, the Seagrave clan has finally settled in the Hidden Cloud Village. Someone as powerful as the Raikage, himself, could have influenced them."
"The Akatsuki has been gaining more popularity, as of recently. Master Sasori, do you have any spies in the Hidden Cloud Village… hmn?"
The redhead was quick to shake his head. "Do you think we would even be having this conversation if I did, you idiot?" He snapped.
Kisame leaned forward, pressing his elbows against the table. There was a rather grand grin on his face, portraying his thirst for a good fight. "I don't really care if the money is real or not. I'm just interested in seeing what those Seagrave whelps are made of."
The shark-like man turned to Pein eagerly, "Let me go and check them out. I haven't had a decent battle in a while."
The leader of the table shook his head. It had never been his intention to send the ferocious Kisame to scope out the situation. He needed someone who could be calm, calculative, and collected during surprising situations. "No. I have another mission for you and Itachi. I will send Sasori and Deidara."
"And what if it's a trap?" Kakuzu inquired. Truth be told, the masked man had wanted to go. He was confident that, regardless of the nature of the situation, he would prevail for the organization. He was strong enough to take on several ninja at once, with or without his daft partner.
Deidara scoffed arrogantly at Kakuzu. "You underestimate me… hmn. If it's a trap, I'll turn them all into art."
Sasori rolled his eyes at his partner's ignorance, sighing rather loudly. He was sure that Pein had his reasons for choosing them to go on the mission, but he found it odd that the most financially-conscious member of the Akatsuki was sitting this one out. Surely the stitched man was capable enough to handle himself. Perhaps Pein was worried about his overactive temper, or Hidan going ballistic.
"If it is a trap, it will still be beneficial to the Akatsuki," Pein said, "Killing a member or several members of the Seagrave clan will set an example and draw more awareness toward us. We will be seen as a threat by more and more villagers, and mercenary work will become more plentiful."
Kakuzu crossed his arms over his chest and grunted. He could not argue with Pein's logic; he was absolutely correct. Regardless of whether or not the promised money was legitimate, they would gain funds in the long run, anyway.
"Fine," he muttered, "but, assuming it is a trap and the clan has planned an ambush, try not to destroy their bodies. We can make a healthy sum on the corpses of the Seagrave family."
"Can't make any promises…" Sasori growled, glaring at his blonde acquaintance.
Before any more arguments could break out between the group members, Pein rose from his seat. He could no longer sense Obito nearby, suggesting that he had gathered what information he had desired, and was off to plot by his lonesome.
"Sasori and Deidara will take the mission," He said, finitely, eyeing the pair, "I will give you the coordinates of the meeting place by tomorrow morning, when you will be leaving. Kill anyone who gets in the way of our current goals."
The duo nodded slowly, neither of them looking forward to the long journey that was ahead of them. Pein's eyes wandered to Itachi and Kisame, next. Still in a foul mood from not getting his way, Kisame gritted his teeth boldly at their leader.
"I want the two of you to scope out the Hidden Leaf Village, this time without being detected. With Itachi's vast knowledge of the village and its perimeters, I trust that this should not be an issue."
"It will not." Itachi replied, eyes closed, as if he were contemplating. Kisame elected for silence, deciding against challenging the orange-crowned man's decision.
"Excellent." Pein turned back to stare at each and every member at the table, spending an extra few moments on Hidan. Though the priest did not look back at him, he was well aware of his sharp gaze.
"Meeting adjourned."
As everyone began to rise from their seats and shuffle out of the chamber, the orange-haired man was shocked to see that Hidan was the only one who had remained; even Konan had disappeared to pursue her own activities. The pair stared at each other for what seemed like aeons, and when Hidan did not buckle, Pein could do nothing more than close his eyes at the Jashinist's insolence.
"I did not expect you to stay. You are the type to run away from your problems." He stated, sure that his words would elicit some form of inner anger from his consociate.
The albino rolled his eyes exasperatedly, knowing that by confronting their leader, he had signed up for a barrage of insults. He bit back the urge to tell the man to fuck off.
"Whatever. I know you know about the woman, so let's just get this over with. I'm not getting rid of her." He said.
Pein was quick to retaliate, "The last woman you brought to our base would have escaped if not for Zetsu. Do you understand how much destruction she could have brought to our organization, had she gotten away alive?"
Hidan laughed mockingly and shook his head, "That woman didn't know shit. She knew our names and our faces, but she had no idea of our abilities or our plans."
Pein took a moment to consider this, despising that Hidan was at least partially correct. It was true that not much had been revealed to her, but even their names and faces were valuable pieces of information for villages looking to nip their organization in the bud. They were able to walk around in public because their faces and garb were not popular enough to have them spotted; they were able to get various daily tasks done without having to use disguises. Had the woman gotten away and spread word of their faces and uniforms, they would have been recognized by villagers sooner than he and Obito would have preferred.
"And what of the coordinates of our hideout?" He asked, finally, "She would have led groups of powerful ninja to us for revenge, after what you two did to her."
The man still remembered how bruised and bloody the woman had been, cringing at the mere touch of another human. They had ruined her body and her mind, and he had no doubt that she would have sought them out for payback, had she successfully fled. This woman would be no different.
Hidan shrugged carelessly, "Yeah, but she didn't. Besides, this woman will be kept at this outpost. Even if she does manage to escape, which she fucking won't, we can afford to abandon this shithole. No one ever comes here, anyway."
Pein resisted to urge to drive one of his pikes through the immortal's face. He believed his logic to be flawless, and he had faith that the woman would not escape alive, despite his recent history. Furthermore, he insisted that they could simply abandon their outpost if the woman did manage to flee. He did not understand the hard work that had gone into creating the Akatsuki.
"You fool," The mock-leader grumbled, "it has not been an easy task to acquire outposts which are hidden and out of the way of wanderers. Sacrificing one when we have not even commenced our main goal would be preposterous."
Hidan let out a small, nervous chuckle, realizing that things were not going very smoothly; he had never been good with words. He had truly believed that his logic had been sound enough for their leader to be at peace and allow him his treasure; t appeared that he would have to think harder about his case.
"Listen," he instigated, "she's not going to get away, and if she does, I'll be the first to know about it. She's connected to Lord Jashin, and He told me of her whereabouts when I hunted her down. She's useful to Him, and to me. As long as I keep her restrained, I don't think we'll have a problem with her, okay?"
Pein contemplated the words, rolling them over in his head several times before reaching a conclusion. She was connected to his Lord, who informed him of her location. She was chained in his quarters. Like the other women, she was probably not a ninja. Though most evidence pointed toward the fact that it would be damn near impossible for her to liberate herself, he still felt unsettled.
Hidan continued to speak, hoping that he would be able to sway the pierced man, "If she's ever out of my sight, she'll be chained to my bed. On top of that, she's weak as fuck. She can't do much more than heal, and she runs out of chakra before long."
Chained to his bed? Had he not just stated that Jashin wanted to utilize this woman? What set her apart from his other women, if he was using her body as he had used theirs, and was mentally torturing her as he had them?
Though he had already understood that the religious man before him was as disgusting as they came, Pein still struggled to wrap his head around his actions. There was no doubt that he was conducting these sacrifices and torture sessions as per his God, but was there also a part of him that found ecstasy in such brutal things? Judging by the look on his face, the Rinnegan-user believed that he did.
Pein's eyes narrowed. If Hidan truly insisted on keeping this woman as his pet, he could only advise him to take as many precautions as possible. He failed to understand why rape and torture enticed some of his men, though he could do nothing to stop them. As long as it did not impede on the Akatsuki's goals, it was none of his business. While recruiting, he had told each of the members this, and promised them protection; he had no right to hinder them in regards to their personal activities.
"If she is to stay here, she must have her chakra suppressed. If she moves to escape, she will be killed immediately."
Hidan smirked, "Yeah, yeah, I'm not stupid. If she manages to get away, I'll kill her myself."
"Do not let this woman get in the way of our goals."
The immortal snorted and held up his hands in defense. His lips had curled into a daunting smirk. "Wouldn't dream of it."
Hidan shoved open the door of the meeting room, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched in a cold grimace. The good mood that Seven had given him was gone, as was the high he had felt from releasing the tension in his groin.
"Fuck," He grumbled, "leave it to that fucker to put me in a bad mood."
Though, he considered himself a very fortunate man. Back in his room, waiting to be subjected to his touches, yet again, was an attractive, unwilling woman. There was no doubt in his mind; she would have just the thing to put a skip back into his step, and send him off to sleep like a baby.
"Hidan, listen to me," The voice nearly made him stop dead in his tracks. Had he not been used to hearing the voice of his beloved deity, he surely would have been jostled.
"Yes, Lord Jashin?" He answered to himself, keeping a steady pace and ensuring that no one unwanted was around to snoop.
"I have given this woman to you to serve a divine purpose. She is not to be killed and her life must not be put into danger. Ensure that you heed these rules."
Hidan had not planned to do any permanent harm to her without consulting his Lord, regardless of the way she made his temper flare; Jashin was not a forgiving God. He nodded solemnly, without any further comment.
"You may use her for whatever purposes you have, though, ensure that you do not bring her to the point of insanity, as I have seen you do to other women."
"Yes, Lord Jashin." The priest murmured, "But, when will I be able to sacrifice her? This woman is a disrespectful heathen. She looks at me like she's higher than me, even after I've humiliated her. I can't wait for the day where I get to pierce her heart and send her to you."
Jashin chuckled darkly at the sadistic thoughts of the albino; he had certainly chosen the correct follower for his plans.
"I will inform you when the time has come. Be alert and ready to heed my orders, as her sacrifice shall be unique." The deity said, His voice rumbling through Hidan's thoughts like dry thunder above an open field.
Though he should have been, the worshipper was not satisfied with his Idol's response. True fear would be to sacrifice her; true fear would be for him to promise her a date for her death. Though she did her best to show him that she cared little for her life now that her brother was gone, the Jashinist knew that it was a farce. Seven Toho cared about living, even if she only lived for revenge.
"Lord Jashin, one last thing," he whispered, a wicked grin wafting across his mouth, "what can you tell me about this woman? I want to use everything I can to break her."
Jashin was silent for so long, that Hidan had begun to assume that their connection had been obstructed.
"So, you plan to torture her using words?" His almighty voice hissed, a great amount of pleasure laced into its tone. "This is a new method."
Hidan was familiar with the amount of force needed to break a regular street whore. Hell, even a simple village woman. However, after taking advantage of Seven and watching the fire of determination flicker in her resilient orbs, he knew that even a great amount of physical punishment would not do the job, this time around.
He had never been good with his words. Back in his old village, he had been jeered at by his comrades for lacking persuasive skills. Of course, they could criticize him no more after being sliced to ribbons. Still, in recent years with the Akatsuki, he understood that he truly did need to work on his communication abilities.
And Seven would be the perfect motivation.
He chuckled softly to himself, "Well whaddya know… That bitch is already making herself useful."
Being able to manipulate and persuade his foes would make his sacrifices and brutal torture sessions easier. The women he would abduct would bend to him quicker, would give into him quicker, and would doubt themselves earlier.
"Lord Jashin, please tell me anything you know about her."
And the celestial deity had planned to do just that.
"Seven Toho. Nineteen years old. Named after her parents' famous work on a healing prototype, as seven doses of the elixir have been said to cure even the worst of ailments. Though, the prototype was lost when they were murdered."
Hidan licked his lips mercilessly. So, her parents had been murdered, had they? That was definitely something that he could use against her.
"Flare Toho, her brother, was brutally killed by your partner. You must have seen the state that his body was in."
The Jashinist had a flashback, imagining the body lying dead in the mud. There was a gash across his eyes, which had probably blinded him; he probably had not even known what hit him. How had Seven reacted to his death? He had only caught the end of it. She had probably been devastated, blaming herself for not being able to fight. 'Fucking delicious!'
Jashin continued, "The boy was the only family that she had left. She feels guilty. She is lost without him. Her will to live is but a dull ember, but you must not let her die. You must not give her that solace, as she has not earned the right to be touched by my embrace."
Hidan was nodding breathlessly, finally beginning to understand why she had been thrusted into his care, finally excited to be her charge for as long as his Lord wished him to be.
"Yes, my Lord! I understand! She must be educated, she must accept you!"
"Beware, Hidan. Your task shall not be easy. She is intelligent. She is analytical and bold. She will do what it takes to survive, if you do not show her the true purpose in which she must serve.
"To accept you, she must accept me, and to accept me, you must show her true terror. Do what you must, my faithful follower. Introduce her to my ways, to the ways of a Jashinist, until she can take no more. Degrade her, a powerful woman; show her that she is nothing but filth. Then, give her the means to grow and become more than an insect."
"Yes… Yes! I know exactly what I'm going to do to the bitch…" He exclaimed, biting his lower lip to repress an enthusiastic snicker.
"What are you prattling on about, now?"
The voice shook him from his celestial conversation, and he felt the touch of Jashin fade from his mind. Blinking a few times to shake the blur that was left behind by his almighty deity, Hidan was not surprised to see Sasori staring at him disdainfully. How long had he been standing there?
Clutching his head tiredly, the immortal clenched his teeth in frustration. This was not the first time that the puppet master had disrupted him, nor would it be the last.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He hissed, the irritation that he had felt while arguing with Pein resurfacing vehemently.
Sasori rolled his eyes, acting as though the Jashinist had just uttered the stupidest thing he had ever heard. "This is Akatsuki's outpost. Where else would I be?"
Hidan despised the puppeteers overall negative attitude toward everything, though he certainly understood it. He supposed that being a chunk of wood, devoid of any tactile stimulation and human urges, had its downfalls.
His eyes jerked to slight movement that surfaced just behind Sasori, and he could not repress an exaggerated groan when his lavender eyes fell of a tall head of blonde.
'Great,' the priest thought, 'not one, but two assholes.'
Sasori continued to glare at Hidan for what seemed like aeons, never blinking and not daring to budge an inch. He could tell that the immortal was distressed. The last time he had looked this tired and this stressed out, Kisame had nearly gotten his left arm torn off for making a wise crack about religion. For the time being, though he hated to admit it, the redhead believed that silence would be his best and healthiest option. His best puppet had been damaged in his previous battle, something he would have to fix by the time they left tomorrow; he could not afford to get into a tiff with the silver-crowned madman.
Following his sharp gaze, Sasori was amused to see that his partner was accumulating most of his attention. For not the first time in his life, he found that he was feeling grateful that he could no longer feel the strings of lust tug at his heart and loins; two men fighting over a woman was petty, at most, but at least the bloodlust that brimmed in Hidan's eyes was not directed at him.
Deidara stared at his rival with a sharp blue eye, analysing his laboured breathing and the way his hands clenched and unclenched at random intervals; he looked like he was about ready to snap. Offhandedly, the explosive expert wondered if Seven had ever seen him unleash his rage, unfiltered and unconstrained.
'She'd probably be dead by now if she had,' he deduced, resisting the urge to chuckle darkly, 'and if he goes back to that room when he's like this, Jashin's order or not, she's done for.'
Perhaps it was best to keep him distracted; he certainly did not want anything to happen to the woman before he had his way with her. He did not know when he would have the chance to take another woman, what with this sudden mission and all. If all turned sour with the Seagrave woman, he could most definitely have his fun with her.
As they had been heading back to their quarters to salvage what little time they had to relax for the night, Konan had approached them with a small photo of their target. She was a beautiful young lady with a fine mix of brown and blonde hair, high, aristocratic cheekbones, and a deadly smile. Deidara thought any man lucky to have the privilege of accompanying her to bed.
'Still,' he thought, his mind lingering on Hidan's latest prize, 'it would be nice to have a little pleasure in the meantime.'
The priest must have noticed the strange look in his eye, or perhaps his facial expression was utterly transparent, revealing his true intentions, for he pointed an accusing finger at him and scowled.
"Listen, you fucking freak," he started, noticing to his dismay that the young bomber was barely intimidated by his fury, "if I let you have her every once in a while, I don't want you thinking that I'm sharing her with you. If I let you have the bitch, it's to teach her a lesson in respect, and to shatter any self-esteem she has left. You got that?"
Deidara grinned boyishly, nodding with anticipation. He knew that Hidan would crack and allow him to take his woman for a night; he always did. This time, however, he looked like he had something special in mind for his little slave; perhaps she truly was different from the rest.
"And I don't want your explosive shit anywhere near her! I need her to be in one piece and at least partially unharmed, and I remember what you did to that one woman who pissed you off."
The artist rolled his eyes at that last comment. He may or may not have blown up one of their women after she had insulted both his masculinity and his art, but he had made it very clear to the last two women that he would not tolerate such things from them. As long as everyone understood their place, there would be no need for explosives.
"So you'll let me have her… hn?"
Hidan looked at the man as though he had grown an extra head.
"No, not have her. But you can borrow her for a bit."
The immortal was already walking away, beckoning for the younger man to follow suit. Sasori watched as his partner walked quickly to catch up with the scythe master, noting the eagerness that went into each of his steps.
"What a waste of time…" He muttered, unable to comprehend what made his companions so eager to ravage women. Sure, stress relief was one thing, but for pleasure? Maybe he had been too young when he had transformed himself into excellence; maybe he should have waited a few more years, experienced the few pleasures that imperfect humanity had to offer.
The redhead sighed softly. Ah, well. As far as he was concerned, sex was just a waste of time and energy; he had puppets to repair.
Hidan grinned when he detected Deidara walking beside him, hunger evident on his face. Out of all of the other Akatsuki members, Deidara was the best fit for this task. He had the thirst for pleasure, the morals low enough to take a woman against her will, and the intimidation to make her self-worth shrink.
"She needs to be degraded," he started, "Like I said, she's not like the other whores I've brought back. She's a respectable woman, a smart woman. Treating her like nothing more than a piece of ass is bound to show her her place. Get it?"
Oh, he got it. Hidan could tell by the sick smirk on his lips that he understood exactly what he would be doing to his latest victim. As much as he hated to admit it, Deidara could be even more disturbing than him in bed, particularly with unruly women. As long as she did not flare his temper to the point where he got fed up and blew her to bits, everything would be fine.
'I guess I'd better stay in the room with them. Just in case this uppity fucker decides to get fired up.' He thought, rubbing his chin in consideration.
Yes. Remaining in the room while his comrade went about his business and scarred the defenseless Toho even further was a good option. Normalizing what was being done to her, and even watching her get ravished, was sure to add to her humiliation. He chuckled softly to himself, enjoying his darkened state of mind.
"Do your worst, just don't-."
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. No explosives… hn."
He could work with that. It was just the one woman that he had turned into art, and he had more of a lid on his temper, nowadays; spending several weeks in a row with the deadly Sasori had forced him to adapt a calmer attitude toward others. The girl would be no issue, even if she did act up. He would control himself.
With every year that passed after joining the Akatsuki, his heart had grown darker and darker, to the point where he was not opposed to doing anything to anyone. He could vaguely recall the boy he had been, back in Iwagakure. There had always been an air of cockiness to him; perhaps that was why Onoki had been so hard on him. Aside from that, he had always aspired to create true artistic splendour, and his passion for explosives had never dwindled. Though, he had never truly wanted to hurt anyone… until he finally had. His first explosion – his first kill with his artwork. He remembered it so well. So much blood, the stench of fear, and then silence.
After that, he could not get enough. More and more, he grew to become a repulsive criminal who took what he wanted from everyone, and never hesitated to end a life.
The Akatsuki had shaped him in to a true man.
"I'm looking forward to this," the bomber murmured, unable to hide his anticipation, "I needed a stress reliever. Travelling with Master Sasori is rough… hn."
Her mind could not stop racing.
So many things had happened since she had first met the crazed Jashinist, all of them negative. There was an enormous amount of trauma to cope with, and several scenes to reply over and over in her head.
Flare was dead. No matter how many times she tried to convince herself that he was somehow still alive, dwelling somewhere within the forest, she knew the truth. What's more, she had allowed one of his killers to rape her, without putting up much of a fight.
She was useless.
She was nothing more than garbage.
If anyone deserved to be dead, it was her.
'…I just let him do it. I should have struggled harder. I should have made myself unattainable and stubborn; that way, he would have given up.'
It was her fault, and no one could tell her otherwise.
'This happened because of my own stupidity. Now I have to deal with it. I have no right to complain.'
She was the cause of her brother's death, and she was the cause of her other misfortunes, too. Her, and no one else.
'I deserved it all. This is what I get for causing so much trouble and being too weak and selfish to save my brother. I got myself into this.'
And yet, she still did not want to die. Something within her was giving her a small bit of strength, telling her to continue with her survival efforts. The voice within her, kind and endearing, whispered contradictions to her soul.
This is not your fault. It is his.
You did not ask for it. It was thrusted upon you, unwillingly.
You did not deserve this. No one does.
You did not kill Flare. They did.
She laid on the bed, unmoving, hating the feeling of her tears wetting her face and rolling into her hair. She was stronger than this, was she not? She had never been the type to wallow in her sorrows for long, and yet, here she was. She had always been the one to comfort others, especially her dear little brother. Not once had she ever felt this useless, this powerless, and this pathetic.
The soft voice whispered unto her, again: Sometimes it is necessary to expel your pain, lest it moves to consume you. No one can be silent and strong all of the time.
She let more tears fall, lacking the willpower to stop them. Her lips quivered, restraining the sobs that wanted so badly to burst from her mouth; the rest of her body shook with them, and soon, she was trembling like a newborn lamb. Her eyes were bloodshot and watery, and her face was red from agony and frustration.
Though, her rational mind could not deny such truth; being strong did not mean that she could not cry. It did not mean that she could not be affected by the crippling sadness in her heart; surely no one could turn away from such horrid feelings.
No, she was still strong; there was just only so much that she could take. True strength would be to overcome such grief and powerlessness, and emerge triumphantly over her abuser.
Giving up would make her weak. Giving up would make her a failure and a coward.
She could not bear to roll over for such a vile man, and face her family in the afterlife. She had made a quick, calculated promise to herself that she would work to grow stronger.
She could do this. She had her intelligence and prior self-training; all she had to do was utilize her strengths at the most precise of times.
Why had he done such a thing to her? Why had he been so hell-bent on killing her kin and forcing himself on her? Why had he not killed her, instead? She had been the weakest out of the two of them; she did not have anything that she could offer to him. He had said it himself, back at her old home – he did not need her healing methods, thanks to his immortality.
Healing was about the only thing that she knew how to do. She could barely defend herself, and her kunai-throwing skills were mediocre. She did not have a bloodline limit, unless she wanted to count her family's healing technique. Her cognitive skills, he could have found anywhere else.
'His God must have plans for me. Am I to be his next grand sacrifice?' The very thought made the hairs on her skin rise. Jashin's rituals were gruesome and terrifying; she had heard many rumors. Not to mention, Hidan, himself, was a very cruel and brutal man. She would suffer greatly before she died.
'He'll chain me here and hack me up slowly, savouring my pain. He'll leave me to die a very slow death, and mock me as I take my last breath. Escape will be hard, and actually harming him will be ever harder.'
Harming him was, in one way, a goal of hers in hopes of appeasing her brother's restless soul. Nonetheless, she wanted to harm him for her, too. She wanted to test her limits, to show herself that she was capable and resilient, regardless of what was done to her. She wanted to make him curse himself for underestimating her, and hate himself for allowing a civilian woman to injure him.
It would be magnificent; he would not find pleasure in the way she would harm him. Instead, he would feel her humiliation, anger, and sorrow, and she would transfer those feelings unto him like an incurable plague.
Nearby voices jostled her back to reality. She discontinued her empowering thoughts.
Her eyes had been dry for the past few minutes, her rage driving her to an emotional state just beyond grief. They darted around quickly, making sure that she was still the only one in the room. The dim light that illuminated all of the walls and furniture forced her to strain her eyes.
No. The voices were coming from the hallway. They were distant, but they were moving closer.
She had been basking in silence since Hidan had left; noises had become oddly foreign to her. Strangely enough, they even frightened her.
"Bu… Sacr… fice her…" A rather loud voice was hard to miss. What had they been saying? Something about a sacrifice? Seven listened nervously, as the voices moved closer to the door.
Another loud voice boomed back, loud and clear, "fuck yes!"
She could acknowledge that the voice belonged to Hidan, but who was the other person? She could not recognize their voice. She could not even hypothesize their gender, as of yet.
The genderless voice spoke, again, coming through more clearly this time, "…When… date… kill…?"
The poor woman's eyes widened, though she scolded herself for being surprised. They were talking about her execution date, were they not? Yes, that had to be it. They had been talking about when Hidan was planning to sacrifice her. She gritted her teeth and had to force herself to cease shaking.
Maybe she was jumping to conclusions. This was the Akatsuki's base, after all. They could have been talking about another prisoner.
She struggled to hear Hidan's mumbled reply, but to no avail; it was as if he knew that she was listening.
"Damn it…" She growled, becoming more and more irritated with each passing second of incoherent speech.
"…Too soon." The other voice responded.
Seven now recognized them as another male. Yes, she definitely agreed with them; any time that he had in mind to kill her was far too soon. But what was he planning? How would he do it? When would he do it?
"… two… that good…?" Hidan replied.
Two weeks? Two months? Two days…? That was not enough time. And why was he consulting another member about her execution? Could he be conversing with another Jashinist?
She found herself becoming frantic. Another anxiety attack was beginning to surface, but she did her best to calm her heartbeat. An anxiety attack would not due in her current situation; she could not allow Hidan to witness her in such a vulnerable state.
Her breath caught in her throat when she heard the doorknob begin to jiggle. All at once, her efforts to swallow her anxiety were shattered.
He was back, again.
She only had two days or two months or two weeks.
Flare was dead.
She had been raped, and she would be raped, again.
She could not take the sudden influx of emotions, and she could not stop the tears from dripping quickly down her face, like a stream of melancholy.
Hidan burst into the room and immediately locked eyes with her. It did not take him but a second to realize that she was in distress.
"Aw, is my little Seven upset?" The madman asked with mock concern.
Her vision was becoming blurry, as if she was having a nightmare. Slowly, everything but the Jashinist faded to black, and it was as though the world had swallowed everything but them; it was as though he was the new God of her world.
The priest could tell that the damage he had inflicted upon her mental health had been great, and relished in this fact. Perhaps, with a little more prodding, she would completely shut down and submit to him. However, judging by the fire that was in her eyes after he had first finished with her, he highly doubted that.
Numerous moments passed before he noticed that she was beginning to come back to her right mind. Unlike the other women, she had not screamed or begged him to release her; she had simply lay there with wide, horrified eyes, willing her inner workings to relax. He found himself growing both frustrated and impatient. Instilling terror was his specialty, but it seemed as though this woman had put up a barrier to prevent his hysteria from fully whisking her away.
When she finally managed to get a hold on her emotions, she was surprised to see her captor staring at her with expressionless eyes. She did not know what made her more nervous, the times where she could not read him or the times where she could.
At this point in her capture, she was at a total loss for what to do. She knew that gathering her strength would take a long time; perhaps a few weeks, if she received semi-regular food and water and remained relatively uninjured.
'But does that mean that I should just roll over and take it? Can I even do that? He'll tear me apart slower if I comply, which might give me a bit more time to plan.' She nibbled on her lower lip, breaking eye contact with the madman for an instant to think. 'Giving in doesn't sit right with me, but I'm backed into a corner. He's restrained me and he's much stronger than me. He can withhold food, water, and rest, and he will continue to put a huge strain on my mental health.'
Without a doubt, Seven knew that conquering Hidan and escaping alive would be the most difficult thing that she would ever do. Every option would have to be considered; countless backup plans would have to be generated.
She would have to keep her wits unmarred, if nothing else.
Hidan stepped out of the doorway and allowed his comrade entrance to his chamber. Judging by the careful look on her visage, he guessed that she was too deep in thought to notice the second presence.
He glanced back at the blonde and grinned, "Take your fucking time. Just make sure it hurts."
That was when Seven finally looked up. Her eyes focussed on Hidan, confused as to what he had just said. Then, she realized that there was another person sharing the room with them. Worst yet, she recognized his cold stare and voracious smirk.
'That's the man from the hallway, Deidara. He was with the redhead, Sasori. But why the hell would Hidan invite him into the room? They didn't seem like they were friends.'
Getting a grasp on Hidan's relations was not her biggest problem, however.
'Is he…? No way. He said that I was Jashin's gift. He can't be… giving me to him…?' It dawned upon her gradually.
Yes. That was exactly what was happening. She was being passed around, like nothing more than a prostitute.
'At least prostitutes get money for their business. Some of them even enjoy what they do. What do I get out of this? There will be no pleasure, no happiness, and no gain.'
She locked eyes with Deidara's ice blue orb, shaking her head slowly. She could not stop herself from looking like a scared little animal. Eyes wide and lower lip quivering rapidly, she watched as the cruel blonde took a step toward her.
Where had her strength disappeared to? She needed to get it back; she was hopeless without it.
"Stop." She muttered, hating how she did not dare to raise her voice against a criminal.
Where had her tough, cold voice disappeared to, the same one that she had used to scare away Flare's bullies when he had been but four years old?
She gasped when she felt an unfriendly hand stroke to side of her face, and furrowed her brows when she felt the cool metal of a ring ghost over her lips.
He was petting her as though she was an obedient animal that did not have the right – did not have a voice – to speak in contradiction of her masters.
Unconsciously, her arms and legs struggled against their restraints, gently rattling the chains that bound her to the bed.
She could not believe that this was happening.
