Title:
Picture Trends of Black and White
Author:
Hiko Mokushi
Pairing:KakashixSakura
Rating:
R
Warnings:
Language, adult themes/sexuality, implied rape/sexual abuse, torture,
human trafficking, and character death.
Disclaimer:
Do not own at all.
Summary:
Shizune froze. "What?" The blonde woman held her hands out in
front of her, trying to work things through her fingertips that she
couldn't with her mind. "What would you do to get Sakura back?"
II. Backlash
Sakura rubbed at her chaffed wrists, glad that the bonds' levels were lessened enough so that they no longer pressed as painfully against her skin.
Unfortunately, she was still very much a prisoner.
The bonds around her wrists were loosened so that she could summon enough chakra to heal—but not enough so that she could perform any of the strength techniques Tsunade had taught her. The bonds on her legs, however, had been tightened to the point of cutting off her circulation; making it difficult to move, as well as painful. A finger scratched at her neck, under the rough collar that nestled just above the hollow of her throat. The tough, black leather rubbed painfully against her skin. There were times when she'd scratched at it and pulled her hand away, covered in her own skin.
The young kunoichi glowered over her shoulder as Gomimaru finished unlocking the vault. The stone wall fell away as sand, betraying the steel bars the seemingly innocent wall had hidden. The young woman stared past the cage's door, and felt the tell-tale burning behind her eyes of oncoming tears. There were about fifteen girls in the room before her.
"Rin-chan!"
A voice called out to her—five years of being called by another name had given her help in reacting quickly. She turned her head, staring at a young woman with cropped blonde hair. Her heart wretched and she clutched at her side.
"Kari-chan," she whispered, rushing through the now-open bars. Gomi slammed them shut behind her.
"You've got three hours. Then it's back to your cage, bitch."
Sakura didn't even bother glancing in his direction; he wasn't worth the time or effort. She wrapped her arms around the young woman, clutching at her as though her life depended on it—in reality it was only her sanity. "Are you okay, Kari-chan?" she asked, hand rubbing a slow, soothing pattern on the woman's back.
Kari smiled, pulling back slowly. "Yes, fairly good," she replied coolly, reaching her hand out to take Sakura's. "Well, as good as good can be in this place."
Months had passed since they had seen each other. The girl before her was only inches shorter, with a tanned, heart-shaped face and wide oval brown eyes. She'd once kept her platinum hair flowing down her back in a long pony-tail, reminding Sakura depressingly of her own best friend. If there had been one person in the entire hell they were in that understood what she was going through, it was Kari. The young girl may not have been a fellow kunoichi, but she was from the Village of Stone, and had been friends with plenty of them.
"Kaoru-chan's not doing too good."
Sakura gripped the woman's hand harder. "Kaoru," she murmured, scanning the surrounding, frightened faces. She understood; normally people didn't visit unless they were specifically searching for a girl to fill the position they had. "I don't recognize the name." There were few faces she could remember—a girl with long black hair, another with honey-brown, and an older lady, who always found some new way to keep her head shaved.
"She's new."
There was one face she didn't see. "What happened to Ami?"
Kari made a face. "Slit her wrist after she knocked her client out, from what we heard from the guards. I don't know how she'd have managed though, she never seemed very strong."
Sakura's heart fluttered painfully. "You think it's a lie?"
"Who knows?" The woman shrugged.
Kari led her over towards the mattress, pressed in lines against the back wall. Two young women sat on one, next to a tiny, supine form. As they neared, Sakura felt her stomach clench and bile rose in her throat.
Kaoru couldn't have been any more than fourteen years old. Her body was tiny, minute and oh so very breakable looking. Her arms at their thickest were nearly as thin as Sakura's wrists. Her face was undamaged—it was a rule for Joushi's whores: don't damage the face and you can do whatever you want to the rest of them. Sakura could see the bruises that lined her lower legs; probably more. Her left arm was pinned against her side with a ripped piece of cloth. She looked so pale next to her dark, lank hair that if not for the rising and falling chest, she could pass for dead.
"Rin, this is Fujimaki Leiko and Gashimu Akani." Kari pointed first to a blonde girl with short, choppy hair that stopped just short of her shin, and then a girl with long, curly red hair. "Leiko, Akani, this is Mitsuharu Rin."
Gashimu Akani looked up and gave a half-hearted smile. "Thanks for the help." Her voice was strangely deep for her petite appearance. "We were traveling with Kaoru and her sister, Hana, before we got taken. We promised Hana we'd take care of her."
Sakura knelt down, leaning forward to peer at the sleeping girl. "What happened to her sister?"
"She's in the vocal ward." Fujimaki Leiko's voice was calm, but contained a sort of growling emotion behind it Sakura recognized as a tone many ninja took with someone they fought. The blonde woman had a large, purple bruise blossoming across her pale cheekbone.
Sakura turned away.
"It looks like a clean break," Sakura murmured, running her hand along the girl's arm. "Should heal with minimal scarring."
Summoning what chakra she could, her hands glowed with a bright green light as she laid them flat. Her eyes closed in concentration. She visualized the break in the girl's humerus, near to the neck. She tried to recall the words Tsunade had used when instruction her how to heal properly, but found the older woman's voice was lost to her. With or without Tsunade's whispered directives, her body moved of its own accord. She'd always had an innate ability to heal. The girl's bones melded back together—the break had been clean; right along the surgical neck.
Sakura fingers brushed lightly against the girl's cheek, smiling tiredly. Her bonds made it so that she could only release so much chakra at a time, making healing longer and a much more exhausting process than normal.
"Tell her to take it easy," Sakura instructed. "The break is mended, but I don't have enough access to my chakra to reinforce it. If she starts jumping around and jarring it, she could cause it to snap again."
Leiko offered a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks again."
"Don't mention it," Sakura sighed and drug a hand through her bangs. "It's the least I could do."
"Sakura's healing abilities are amazing." Kari drew her feet up underneath her, hands drawing patterns on the floor. "It's how I first met her. Some asshole broke my nose. I'd never seen chakra-healing before—so I thought she was crazy holding her hand in front of my face. But sure enough, five minutes later, the pain was gone."
Akani seemed to enjoy Kari's rambling, but Leiko was fidgety and looked uncomfortable.
"Is that the healer-whore?"
The girl was tall and statuesque, with shoulder-length brown hair and cold hazel eyes. She had three scars that parted the skin across her face, but barely took away from her beauty. One ran along her jaw on the left side, the other hovered low over the bride of her right eye, breaking her eyebrow. The other cut a diagonal pattern from the corner of her left eye down to the right corner of her lip, across her nose.
Sakura turned, sighing. "If it isn't Botan. My, you look better each time I see you. New scar?"
The punch was thrown before she even turned, giving her no time to dodge. Sakura felt her jaw crack slightly as her head spun, white flashes of light going off in front of her eyes. She tasted her own blood for the second time that day. Her body flew back with the momentum; behind her, she could hear Kari and Akani gasp audibly. Leiko was on her feet and caught her before she even hit the ground.
The medic-nin let out a ragged breath, cackling; it was a hollow, discordant sound. She wiped at her mouth; bloody lip sore against her fingertips. "You still punch like a whiny bitc—"
The girl's hand was around her throat, the other slamming forcibly into the center of her stomach. Leiko flinched behind her as Sakura shuddered, coughing up blood. The blonde woman tightened her grip and made a move to drag her backwards—but Sakura hooked her heels around Botan's calves, holding herself in place. She grinned, her teeth smeared, crimson on white.
A bolt of fear went up Botan's spine. "Get off, Mitsuharu!" she exclaimed, trying to step back. "I'll—!"
As Leiko instinctively let go of her arms, Sakura threw her head forward, pulling herself upright with the momentum and successfully head butted her. "You'll do what?" she asked through gritted teeth, ignoring the pain blossoming in her skull. "Bleed on me?"
They fell backward, Sakura on top of Botan as they hit the ground.
"Rin, stop!" Kari screamed, but it was as if it echoed down a long tunnel, and Sakura could barely hear her for the roar of blood in her ears.
Botan recovered quickly; the hand still clenched around Sakura's neck tightened, enough that Sakura could feel her airway closing. Botan's mouth snapped around the closest part of the kunoichi: her arm. Blood spurted and Sakura let out a mangled scream as they rolled. Her head struck the ground, but there was enough force that Sakura was back on top. Black spots clouded her vision as her brain went haywire from lack of oxygen. Hands found their way into the brunette's hair and Sakura gripped hard, pulling up and then pushing down.
Botan's skull hit the concrete floor with a sickening crack of bone on stone.
She was pulling her hands back up for a second go when something poked her hard in the back.
Her body fell away from Botan's supine from, shuddering as the electricity coursed through her body, rendering her muscles useless and her brain inept. Her eyes closed and she bit clean through her lip. Her body spasmed; for a moment she almost felt her heart stop.
"That's it, Mitsuharu." Gomimaru's voice cut through her skull. "You're supposed to heal the girls, not kill them." He tugged at her leg, dragging her along the ground and out of the prison. She avoided Kari's pleading, sorrowful eyes. Disgust flourished within her.
Sakura's head bumped roughly against the ground as she was drug back to her prison. Hands tightened the bonds on her wrists again, until she almost hissed from the pressure.
"Guess they were right about you, Mitsuharu." Gomi's voice was drifting away. He seemed distant—not upset, but almost frightened. "You really are a killer."
His words hurt worse than Botan's punch to her gut. Her body felt heavy, like lead. She couldn't move. She didn't want to. Every part of her ached. Blood welled across her arm where Botan had bitten her; teeth marks pocketed her skin. She hurt; not just her body, but her heart. Tears streamed across her cheeks. Her soul cried with her.
The sand was already winding its way up around her cage when she ventured a look around her. It sufficiently walled her in, cutting her off from the rest of the world. Sakura lay in the center of her cage, and for the first time since she could remember, she curled slowly into a ball and cried out loudly. You're a monster, her mind screamed, and she screamed along silently with it. She'd almost killed a girl tonight. For no reason.
In those moments, her aching body cold against the stone floor, she realized she was no better than the rest of them.
The Hokage tower was strangely chilly for some reason, even though it was only early October.
The room was dark, its occupants silent; a single kerosene lamp provided atmosphere and a more than a few shadows. Tsunade was perched lightly on the edge of her desk, a small ceramic bowl of sake clenched in her hand. Shizune stood beside her, silently offering the comfort she couldn't voice. Kakashi leaned lazily in the corner, orange book held before his face—his posture was tense; gray eye focused on a point over the top. Naruto paced the center of the room; Hinata watched, unable to calm his anxieties.
The previous Yamanaka Ino opened the door and blinked, her blue eyes widening with mild surprise. Light from the hall brightened the room, illuminating the shinobi inside. "I didn't know this was a party," she attempted to joke, but her voice was weak. Shizune offered a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"This look like a party?" Naruto growled, fixing the blonde with an usually baleful glower.
"Dobe," Uchiha Sasuke muttered, shutting the door as he came in behind Genma. "Don't talk like that to her."
"Yeah, because she might get even more two-fac—"
"I dare you to finish that sentence." Sasuke stepped calmly in from of Naruto, his eyes shifting back and forth between normal and Sharingan. Tsunade tossed Kakashi a furtive look. He shook his head, once, before snapping his book shut loudly. Genma stiffened at his side.
"Sasuke, don't!"
Ino tugged on the dark-haired young man's arm. He shook his head for a few seconds and his eyes faded fully from red back to black. With a final glare, he allowed her to lead him to the far side of the room, talking into his ear in hushed whispers. Naruto's blue eyes followed their path with unconcealed disgust.
"I hope we are not late!" a deep voice exclaimed from the door, light filling the room once again.
Tsunade rolled her eyes and took her sake down in one shot, smacking her lips together.
Kakashi cleared his throat, straightening his back. "No, Lee, you're just in time."
The green-clothed jounin walked past the two fuming young men, the dark-haired Kiba walking quietly into the room after him before shutting the door, removing light from the room once again. "Good. I was afraid we'd missed it." Like a mirror image of his former sensei, Lee strode across the room to stand next to Kakashi, the only difference being that the silver-haired man was taller. Kiba settled himself on the other side of Genma, Akamaru lying down faithfully at his feet.
Sasuke threw a glare over his shoulder towards Lee, before glancing at Tsunade. "So what is it? Why are we all here?" Ino rubbed her fingernails soothingly against his back.
Hinata, releasing Naruto's hands from between her own, glanced nervously at the fellow kunoichi. "C-c-congratulations, Ino," she whispered, avoiding meeting the blonde's gaze. Her eyes tripped downward.
Ino's mouth opened a fraction of an inch, fingers splaying over her stomach. "Thank you. . .?"
Naruto intentionally glanced away, turning his blue eyes to the Hokage, who was once again plying herself with more sake. "Can we just go?" he pleaded, voice hard, attempting to stem the emotion behind it. "Me, Kakashi-sensei, Genma, Kiba and Lee—we're all we need. You said we'd be meeting up with Shikamaru and Kankuro in Sand. We don't need more help!"
His eyes drifted to Sasuke.
"If you've got something to say, Naruto. . ."
Ino's grip on his wrist tightened. "Sasuke, please, stop it," she whispered.
Hinata rubbed Naruto's forearm comfortingly. He shrugged her off gently. "I'm sick of having to worry about his feelings! What about Sakura-chan? What about her feelings!'
Sasuke almost visibly paled.
"What?" Ino breathed, going stiff. "What nonsense are you talking about, Naruto? Sakura's—" Her voice caught. "Sakura's gone."
"She's alive." Kakashi's eyes were cold as he watched the proceedings, unable to remain silent. "We've word from the Kazekage. That is what this meeting is about, Sasuke. I'm leading the recovery mission."
Ino turned to stare, her blue eyes meeting Sasuke's black ones. Emotion akin to fear flickered over the girl's face.
"When?" asked Sasuke quietly, voice strained. "Where?"
"Sunakagure," Tsunade answered his question as she put down her sake, peering at him sidelong. She rested her chin in her upturned palm, her elbow on her knee. "Apparently, they had been having trouble with some rogue ninja in their southern caves. These ninja are prostituting young woman that they either buy or kidnap. They are held practically in prison, unable to even defend themselves. Now, while none of these ninja are of much importance, one did come up in our bingo books: A Mujihi Joushi, Missing-nin of twelve years, originally from the Village Hidden in the Clouds. He specialized in undercover work, a master infiltrator.They've been holed up in the caves for some time now; their lair is practically perfect."
A slow smile spread across her face. "Almost perfect. The Kazekage has managed to slip in three shinobi in the past two and a half years. Two ninja, one kunoichi. The men weren't trusted near the women ordinarily; mostly they were bodyguards, escorting Mujihi and the woman to and from their clients." The word left a bad taste in her mouth. "The kunoichi was killed, reports say; nobody ever found out exactly what occurred, only the end result. And it took her counterparts nearly six months before they were able to find and decode her reports."
Hinata leaned against Naruto and stifled a sob. The ninja's fists were clenched; and he took deep breaths to calm himself as he wrapped his arms around her, cradling the woman against his chest. He whispered soothing words, staring at Tsunade over her shoulder. Genma and Kiba were exchanging looks, while Lee stared at the ground, horrified. Ino was crying, using Sasuke's shirt to wipe her eyes. Kakashi had folded his arms. His eyes were shut, face stoic.
Beneath his mask, he bit his lip until he drew blood.
"As soon as the Kazekage read the reports, he recognized his kunoichi's reference to a young woman used to heal the girls when injured by cliental; a young woman with green eyes and vivid pink hair." Tsunade's brown eyes were practically burning. "He sent word immediately. I replied, of course. Gaara-sama has relinquished complete control of the situation. He's even volunteered help. Shikamaru and Kankuro are going to meet you all when you arrive."
The Hokage turned and fixed her gaze on the Uchiha, though she spoke to the entire group.
"The question now is whether or not you wish to accompany Kakashi and Naruto on their task."
Genma grunted. "Bastards. Can we kill them?"
"We have permission to do whatever we need to do to fulfill the mission," purred Tsunade. "Technically this is ANBU territory; but anyone who is not ANBU who wishes to go will be given my expressed permission. You'll probably end up needing to turn Mujihi into the Suna black ops; they'll dispose of him properly after getting all the information from him they can. Anybody and everybody else is fair game."
The brown-haired ninja grinned and clicked his senbon enthusiastically between his teeth.
"Is that all?"
All eyes were redirected back to Sasuke, who gripped Ino's arm—though gently—as though his life depended on it. He seemed unstable on his own feet, and the woman's other hand was wrapped around his back. The young man wore the expression of supreme distaste, as though he'd had something bad held underneath his nose.
Tsunade tipped her head slightly to the side and glanced his way through her eyelashes. "Obviously, Ino is unable to assist, what with her condition," she said the word delicately, brown eyes slipping towards the female. "But if you. . ."
"No." Sasuke snatched his arm back from Ino, giving a stiff bow. "Arigatou, Hokage-sama." He turned to Ino, who opened her mouth in protest. His eyes squashed whatever she'd wanted to say, and she closed her mouth sharply, teeth clicking together behind her slightly-parted lips. Ino turned, giving Hinata a small, silent wave as Sasuke placed his hand at the small of her back and led her towards the door. When the door shut behind their exiting shadows, the entire room almost audibly breathed a sigh of relief.
Naruto walked over and punched the wall.
Hinata gasped, "That was uncalled for!"
"He pisses me off!" Naruto shot back, though his tone contained little of the anger that he felt towards the Uchiha; he could not be so unkind and speak to Hinata the same way. "He acts like Sakura-chan doesn't even matter! You saw him! He completely iced up as soon as I said her name."
Shizune folded her arms, speaking up for the first time since she'd bowed into the room behind the Hokage. "This is an unfortunate circumstance," she murmured, furrowing her eyes slightly. "If Sakura does come back, that will be quite awkward for Sasuke."
Naruto gawked. "Awkward for Sasuke-teme? Think about Sakura-chan!"
"I'm not following," Genma stated, turning his eyes to the younger jounins in the room. "Care to explain?"
"That's a complicated answer, Shiranui," Shizune murmured, glancing his way.
He winked. "Someone un-complicate it for me."
"Sasuke and Sakura-chan were. . ." Lee struggled for the right words as he spoke, not even glancing over his shoulder to look at the man he answered. "Involved. Romantically. I do not recall anything more to it than that. Sasuke waited for two years after Sakura. . . was taken. When her name was put on the Memorial Stone, he started pursuing Ino. A year after that, they were married, nine months after that, she gave birth to a son—Kenshin."
Hinata blushed furiously as she added, "Ino's pregnant again, a girl this time."
Genma sucked and switched his senbon from the right side to the left, silently musing to himself.
"He's a dobe," said Naruto emphatically, ignoring whatever looks he received from the rest of the group. He was amongst friends now, he didn't need to try and be polite because Tsunade would beat him over the head and crack his skull if he wasn't. "He abandoned Sakura-chan. He said she was dead. She wasn't coming back."
"So did the rest of us, Naruto," Gai pointed out quietly, speaking in an unusually soft voice. His black eyes trailed to Kakashi, who still remained impassive as always, his eyes focused on some point across the room, hands lazily in his pants pockets.
"I didn't."
Naruto crossed his arms childishly, like he'd done when he was younger, a pissed expression on his boyish face.
"Well, if you're all finished discussing the Uchiha's and their ulterior motives for marrying and popping out children," Tsunade interrupted, holding out her upraised hand to Shizune, who dropped a sealed scroll into her palm. She tossed it, and it arched through the air, straight into Kakashi's raised hand. His eyes were still shut. "I need you to give this to Gaara-sama when you reach Sunagakure. I'm quite positive he'll greet you, as well as Shikamaru and Kankuro. You'll leave immediately; no use waiting around when you all know what to do."
The Hokage twisted, sliding a piece of parchment to the edge of the desk where she could write on it. "Non-ANBU ninja. . ." she muttered beneath her breath as she scribbled; her hand nearly shook with excitement. "Rock Lee and Inuzuka Kiba; Hinata can't go. . ."
"Hey!" Naruto protested. "Why—?!"
"Ask your wife, don't ask me. Patient-Doctor confidentiality and the Physician's Oath."
Hinata shook her head furiously when Naruto turned to her. "Not now, Naruto," she whispered, flushing red.
"I'll send this straight to Headquarters," Tsunade said finally, waving her paper in front of her. "If Sakura is there, you return either with her, or injured enough that my beating you to a pulp will jeopardize your life."
Kakashi disappeared in a puff of thick smoke.
Her stomach growled.
Sakura groaned and rolled over, temple pressing against the concrete floor.
It did little to soothe her headache.
Her head throbbed; her arm was sore and sticky. Her mouth tasted metallic, and her teeth felt slimy. Her back hurt, too. Most of her body felt like she'd done one of Kakashi's 'Twenty-Four Laps Around Konoha' training sessions after being beaten into the ground by seven of Naruto's shadow clones. Every part of her ached.
"Note to self," she grunted, attempting to get up. Her palms pressed against the ground, wobbling slightly. "Pick fights when Gomi-baka isn't around."
Vertigo kicked in for a moment, swaying the room around her. She paused and closed her eyes, willing her vision would stop swimming. When she felt it safe, she opened them again.
The drab gray room stood still.
She got shakily to her feet, ignoring the pounding in her head and fighting the nausea that swirled in her stomach. Beryl eyes stared somberly around the room; cold concrete offering little comfort.
Her world had once been amazing. Sakura could recall growing up not only with normal human contact, but with friends. She could remember her kunoichi classes, the academy, being a gennin under Kakashi and a chuunin under Tsunade. She could recall saving ninja's lives, healing and doing surgery. Parties on her birthday, and a few wedding she'd either gone to or participated in. She'd been afraid for her life at times, the lives of her friends, her town—but she couldn't remember it any other way. She'd cared about so many people.
Sakura shoved her first into the wall, fingers popping slightly as the bones ground together. She pulled her hand back, knuckles bloody, and stared.
"You're becoming a masochist, Haruno Sakura," she whispered to herself.
Her back pressed against the wall and she slid into a sit, forearms popped on her raised knees, breathing deeply as she felt a familiar feeling of claustrophobia sinking in. It was the room. It had always been the room.
Her prison.
Her cage.
The room was only about 30 feet long by 20 feet wide, but she'd never been completely sure of the measurements; something about knowing the exact measurements of her cell had made her feel even more like the hamster she'd had when she was nine years old. (It also reminded her about how, when she was nine, forgotten about same said hamster and had let the poor creature starve to death.)
Her mattress was against the far end of the southern wall—she stared to her right at the flimsy, graying hunk of fabric and springs and wondered if the thing even deserved to be called a mattress. The small, 2 by 2 foot shower (a square of stone that suck about a foot deep to keep the water from going on the floor a nasty drain in the center) attached to the western wall, and divided itself from the room by only a thin, insubstantial curtain. The sink was on its other side, porcelain. While it was a poor excuse, a rectangular, plastic-like sheet hung precariously above the sink to represent a mirror; but it was one she could not break with a regular fist. On the other side of the sink was a stained porcelain toilet.
The only other clothes they provided her with—t-shirts and jounin pants (which she was sure was their form of cruel humor)—were stacked on plastic shelves, anchored against the middle of the eastern wall.
Sakura rose to her feet again, steadier; she twisted, stretching muscles that had tightened from the position she'd slept in.
Her entire body felt like a walk bruise.
Pacing, she stood herself after a few minutes in front of her plastic-mirror, peering into her own eyes.
After five years, she still knew herself. She wished she didn't. Wished she could look into at Mirror Sakura and whisper "who are you?" Recognizing herself every day seemed to make everything all the more real. She still looked like herself—just with obvious changes.
Her hair was still the vibrant pink it had been the day she'd left Konoha, it just now fell to mid-back—something she hadn't done since she had been twelve. Her eyes were still green—just darker—more emerald than viridian. She was no taller than before; lack of proper nutritional food had seemingly stunted the growth most girls experienced in their late teens.
The face that stared back was no prettier, that would have been impossible. A small scar parted her left eyebrow near to the side of her face. Another dragged downward where her jawbone met her face, from her ear down to her throat. She was surprised her nose wasn't deformed, she'd broken it twice.
She shed her clothes and leaned into the shower, shivering slightly. She avoided the cold water that ran for the first five or so minute until the heat kicked out—taking the time to peer at her naked form.
She'd certainly lost weight, but she wasn't underfed. As skinny as she'd been before, but harder, rippling with muscles she would never have previously possessed. There were few things to do while locked up to keep her sane, let alone entertained. Meditation, singing, even talking to herself helped. Training was difficult, but it kept her focused. Endless hours of merely working, forging her body into something dangerous. She felt it in the way she moved, fluid, purposeful. A coiled spring, a surgical scalpel, honed to deadly precision.
If she'd been anywhere else at the time she would have felt like a weapon.
Her sides were bruised, a welt flushed her stomach an ugly reddish purple; blood crusted around the crescent-shaped scab that had formed on her arm. She stared into the mirror harder.
Finger-patterned bruises circled her neck, contrasting sharply with her sickly, pallid complexion. The cheek under her left eye was a mix between black, blue and red. Her lips crusted in the corners with blood.
If she would have been a little skinner she could have looked like the victim of some concentration camp.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the steam that began to rise from behind the ugly curtain, and walked painfully slowly into the scalding water. It bit at her back, but it made her feel more alive than even fighting did. She held up her arm, rubbing at the flushed, sore skin around the cut; cleaning it. The water swirled a muddy red around her feet.
She reached into the small square where her shower supplies were kept and poured some shampoo onto her hand. It felt slimy and foul as she massaged it into her scalp, but the feeling faded as her hair soaked it up, and it washed out as easily as if it had never been there. Sakura sighed and rested her head against the stone wall, letting the hot water pound against her, merely enjoying the way it made the ache fade.
Moments like these gave her the chance to realize how disappointingly low her life had fallen.
Cautiously, she removed herself from the shower, water still running. She tip-toed to the other side of room, leaning down. A square slab of concrete lifted with her hand.
Sakura picked a small razorblade from her hidden vault and slipped back quietly to the shower.
She'd never admit her vanity, and if anyone had ever questioned her on it, she would have punched them in the face; she'd die if she'd not been able to shave her legs for five years. It was a small, quaint little slice of heaven.
When she was done with her shower, she slipped the razorblade back into the vault and lowered the slab back into place. She felt strangely tired for only having woken up an hour or so ago.
It felt like days had passed since she'd first left the room.
It felt like decades had passed since she'd been first been brought here—captured.
The skin on her fist was scratched and raw, sore to the touch and red in appearance. She dressed slowly, unable to get any sort of emotion behind her actions. There was nothing that she could manage today—she had never been able to tell night from day here, but her bodily clock just felt off.
The young woman sighed and dragged her body back towards her bed, dropping onto her knees. Before she let herself fall fully down, she crawled painstakingly over the mattress and towards her little hidden treasure vault.
She lifted the slab again slowly, extracting a worn Konoha hitai-ate.
It was a risk, she knew, taking it out. I need it, she thought to herself as she lowered the piece of concrete back into its place, and crawling back to her bed. I just need to hold it tonight. She tugged her sheet over her, head and all, and clutched the headband to her chest. She tried to breath—deep and slow, like she was taught in school—but the cool metal was pressed against her skin and it was all she could take to keep from sobbing.
In her mind, she could hear Naruto, held face down in the dirt; but he was screaming for her. She could see Sasuke frozen, body flung—broken—against a tree, unable to move. She could feel Kakashi's nails bite against her palm as she was dragged away from him.
Tears streamed down Sakura's face as she pressed her nose into the hitai-ate ribbon.
I need you tonight.
If she would have stopped in her pain to remember the damage she'd done to Botan, she would have remembered that nobody would be stopping by to bring her any sort of dinner for a few days.
She mumbled into the coarse fabric, squeezing her eyes shut. I love you died on her lips as she slipped into a restless slumber.
TBC . . .
You people made me so excited.
I've never had such a huge response to one of my stories. I mean, 25 Moments did pretty awesome; I was totally excited for it. But this? I just couldn't believe so many people enjoyed it! (shines) You guys gave me over 29 reviews on the first chapter only. But, I'm seriously excited to see how much you guys can manage. Especially seeing as I don't specifically ask for reviews, like some authors. I mean, yea, I like them, but I don't require them to write. I love seeing your guys' responses. I write 'cuz I enjoy it, but I love seeing that other people enjoy it to.
Working on Chapter 3 as we speak. I plan on trying to post at least like every 1 1/2 to 2 weeks. I can't keep my promise as of yet, because I have lots of school work. But that's what I'm aiming for.
I apologize for the lack of actual KakaSaku interaction. Unfortunately, you won't get that until at least Chapter 4.
Oh yea, and just saying, people asking me "please minimize the amount of prostitution/angst" need to go look at the Warnings and the Settings of this plot. 25 Moments is my WAFF collection. This is my Angst Baby. Being a teenager allows me to bottle up lots of emotion and writing angst and sadness and fighting is a great way of getting all that out. And, well, the prostitution is just a huge part of this plot and will continue to be a huge part of the plot for most of the story; whether in current time or when we take looks at Sakura's time inside the compound.
- Thanks Again, Hiko Mokushi
