Disclaimer: I own nothing but the writing, and it should go without saying that I don't support any of this. These characters are not model citizens.

Note: This chapter has been sitting 90% finished on my hard-drive for a while. I'm not holding chapters hostage for reviews. I promise. But any "update" concerning my fics that shows someone out there is reading does go a long way. :'D

You may have already guessed who would narrate this chapter. Also, POVs will start rotating back after this chapter to ones that you may be more interested in..

Chapter 3 – Hell Breaks Loose, Part I

Picture this:

You're sitting somewhere that's so dull it could be a classroom, minus the chalkboards – or white boards, if you went somewhere slightly better than Konoha East High – and rows of desks. Behind the next door is the guy whose face you could probably tear off in a fair fight. Only he won't let you near him because he's too chicken.

Imagine you've wanted to slug him in the face really, really badly for maybe a month.

I could smell exactly where my jailer was sitting in the next room. In my room, there was only me, a table, and a high-backed chair with arm rests. Before anyone thinks this was all done out of consideration, I have to say that the metal cuffs around my neck and wrists really don't support that idea.

They kept the lights on, of course. I was sitting under these disgustingly bright lights all the time. I had no idea how long it had actually been, but twenty days was a low estimate, honestly.

Two times a day, whoever's job it was to feed me walked in with a side of chicken. Not only was it usually cold and raw, it was also very bad meat. I demanded red meat once and nearly bit the hand off the vampire trying to force-feed me. Then I didn't get any food at all, until something else must have happened. After that, all the guards changed and I had meat again. Still raw chicken. They kept on putting crap in it, though.

Early on, there were already times when I knew they had done something to me. Usually, the fact that one of them would come in to talk, oozing insincerity – this would be when I'd wake up in a comfortable bed, like in a hospital ward, only smellier, if you can believe it – kind of tipped me off.

Because I never get sick. Ever. I don't think they could even create a fake memory of it. Hearing about it didn't make it feel familiar like hearing about how I went to high school or picked up some of those welts on my knuckles from random fights. The man who'd been trying to talk to me looked stunned when I asked him what it meant to have a fever. This expression, like a Wow, you are one dumb shit sort of look, passed over his face. He tried to give me pills and advised me to rest up so I could get better.

I tossed him back the bottle. "I don't need these. I'm fine. I feel fine."

"Well, Kiba…"

I tuned him out after that, in favor of figuring out stuff like Who the hell is Kiba and why does it sound right to me? I would never tell this patronizing asshole my real name. I should get out of here.

Only I'm probably not good at hiding my thoughts, because the guy pounced on me while someone else jammed a needle into my arm while I was struggling with the food tray propped over the bed.

After around the third or fourth time, they quit the hospital gig, which they had never been good at, and introduced me to the chair room.

"Your interior decorator ripped you guys off," I noted as they hauled me into one of the elevators in the detention center. There were dozens of them, pale, black-eyed, and dark-haired, and there were monitors set up for all the cameras I couldn't begin to find.

"I hope you find this more to your liking," sneered one of the four who had shoved me into the chair. His tag told me his name was Uchiha Inabi. Incidentally, I thought I remembered him from one of my hospital mornings.

"It sucks," I told him.

He punched me in the ear. I bolted to my feet and charged at him – or I would have, but I was securely cuffed to a chair that had been fused to the ground or something.

That was the start of a beautiful relationship. Too bad they switched him out before I could bite off his right hand properly.

The way they acted around me – back when the guards were a bit more careless, i.e. before that idiot dared to try force-feeding – I learned that my strength surprised them at times. Once, they brought in an old guy with grey hair that stuck out of his head at a weird angle to look at the cuffs on the chair. "Mr. Yashiro" looked stunned when he saw how the metal had warped. Stunned, and even a little wary.

I was never left completely alone. Lately, though, the guards outside had been taking longer shifts. They started talking again when they traded off, maybe a couple of words in passing, wrapping up as they opened the door to give me one of my cold chicken dinners.

And then, around ten days ago, the drugs started wearing off. It stopped mattering if the chicken tasted funny - whatever they put in it no longer worked. I had built up some resistance, and I was figuring out more every day.

They, on the other hand, were getting more careless.

I had just about had it by the twenty-first day. That was already way too long to spend thinking about what a moron I had been. But how was I supposed to know that threatening some pasty-faced asshole in my year could land me in prison? That was what you got for being a model student – or at least, this was what I'd tell everyone when I got out.

It would've pissed anybody off to see how crowds parted for Uchiha Sasuke in the narrow hallway between classes. Everyone else had to shove through glares and backpacks, holding his breath against the infernal stink, but no, not him. He strolled through like a prince in a flower garden. Had his own worshippers, too, like that loud-mouthed blond bimbo, Ino, and her shadow, Sakura. I would never go for girls like that. Just saying.

Uchiha sent out these signals as if he didn't know what he was doing and then acted like he didn't care for the attention he got. Or if he really didn't know what he was doing, he was kind of too stupid to exist.

I'd reached that conclusion by the middle of my second year in high school. He might be excused for not noticing Neji, who, being a year above us, didn't cross our paths very often, but the vampire never noticed anything odd about me or the one other Hyuuga at Konoha East, Hinata, even though we were in the same year and enrolled in most of the same classes.

I had decided the day Hinata and I met in homeroom that I'd look out for her, even if she hadn't belonged to another werewolf family. We had to stick together. So I guess it only became a problem when she developed a crush on Uchiha's equally stupid human friend, Uzumaki Naruto. Uzumaki , the former mayor's kid, was a loud kind of stupid, not the stick-up-his-ass variety that his bloodsucking buddy was. For some reason, Hinata really took to that, and I was getting worried.

When I saw what was happening, I took her aside during our lunch breaks to warn her. "You know, Uzumaki's kind of close to that Uchiha creep."

Hinata nodded, tapping her forefingers together in that way she does when she's uncomfortable. A flush was spreading over her normally pale face. "Y-yeah, I know. But Kiba… I- I don't think he-he likes Uchiha Sasuke… that way." Her voice trickled to a mumble. She looked redder than ever.

It took me a moment to get how she had misunderstood me. "Whoa, not what I meant." Whether or not that was true made no difference to Hinata's safety, though. And Uzumaki was pretty oblivious to everything aside from opportunities for bad pranks, so it wasn't like he'd defend her from anything. "I'm just saying…" I fisted my hair, feeling exasperated and on edge. "Can't you find someone else to like?"

She shook her head miserably. "N-Naruto's really nice to me… I c-can't help it."

Knowing Hinata, Uzumaki had probably won her over by retrieving her pencil one time and grinning. Not a lot of people can see past Hinata's shyness and treat her the way she deserves. "I guess you can't do anything about it. Just – well, try to stay out of their way. Please? Does your cousin know about this?"

She bit her lip. Obviously not.

I let it go. If it reached Neji's ears, the whole thing might have spiraled out of control and her strict parents would have pulled her out of Konoha East. And I'd have missed her.

Okay, so I didn't regret doing whatever I did to get locked up by a crazyass police force of vampires. But the fallout was my fault.

The full moon was coming up, which I'd be able to tell even if they had dumped me in a basement fifty stories below ground, and I had yet to receive my daily dose of sedatives. Basically, I was feeling more awake than I'd been for ages.

The guy who was supposed to bring my food paused at the door to have a chat with the guard. Neither of them sounded happy, which was great. A few minutes into the conversation, and they seemed to forget I could hear every word.

"'Promising'? It's a complete waste of time! The only way to deal with these animals is to put them down."

"It's not for us to decide," said my jailer. "Besides, if she gives him any trouble, he can certainly handle it."

"If he decides he wants to behave," scoffed the first one. Ah. I thought I'd recognized it. It was Old Man Yashiro again. "I don't trust that brat."

"We can trust Shisui."

"Shisui. I suppose he has a good head on his shoulders. We tend to agree about what's necessary. Unfortunately, that means Fugaku won't be likely to put him on the surveillance team that's going with them."

I beamed at Yashiro when he walked in, baring all my teeth. "Hey, cheer up, old man. I'm sure some of your relatives have an uglier mug than you."

I knew he'd check the cuffs again. I gripped the arm rests so that he'd miss how they'd indented where my fingers closed around them.

Without a word, he picked up the chicken and started tearing off a bloody leg.

That was when I got up, chair and all, and bashed my forehead into his nose.

I felt like I could run forever, do anything, be anything. I had never felt better in my life.

I'd figured out the way out by tracking Yashiro's scent in reverse – the guard didn't even know what hit him when I barreled out of the room – and my nose warned me whenever anyone was turning the corner. Not many people hung around this part of the basement, though. I didn't blame them. It was kind of unpleasant.

After the initial, heart-pounding elation, I found the door to a stairway. Just as I reached the first floor, going by the tiny window that looked out on the loud, sunlit street that was Konoha's Broadway, a screeching alarm blasted my ears. Someone had noticed me on the cameras or found Yashiro or something. Before they could lock down all the doors, I dashed through the exit onto the first floor.

Straight into someone carrying a thick stack of files.

Paper flew everywhere, filling my vision. Fighting for balance, I charged through on sheer momentum. Finally, I was somewhere familiar! Somewhere above-ground. I could smell the exit, the stench coming out of the exhaust pipes of cars loitering by the curb, cheap fried foods, discarded cigarette butts, humanity. I had arrived at the back of the police station.

Just a little farther!

With a roar, I shoved away the arms that were suddenly reaching for me. The overhead light reflected off a polished black barrel that I saw just in time to duck. The bullet whizzed past me and hit the glass. It was probably bulletproof stuff, because it didn't shatter. The vampires would probably squeeze money out of the mayor to pay for that. Oh well, not my problem!

But I was slowing. Someone flung a mug full of hot liquid in my face, and a few flecks lashed my cheeks despite my raised arm. Hands were closing around my shoulders, grabbing at my hair. I looked around wildly but didn't see anyone other than policemen and a stuffy-looking, grey-haired biddy wearing a pink hat with a really wide brim and a faded yellow cardigan who was sitting in a chair by the door.

"Hey!" I shouted to nobody in particular. "Some help here!"

As if I had planned it, the old lady surged to her feet and flung her hat like it was a saucer. Its surprisingly hard brim – grey hair and all - smacked one of my captors in the face. His grip slackened, and I took the chance to elbow away another restraining hold and make the last few meters to the door.

"Go on," said the lady, giving me a rough shove in the back. "I'll catch up."

I glanced up at her dark eyes and manic grin as I passed. I knew her! "Anko?" My memory was still a little fuzzy.

"Oh, and between you and me, you should check yourself into a hospital."

It was a good idea to hide in plain sight, and we had family friends at Konoha General. "Thanks!"

I ran out and slowed down once I had joined the mass of pedestrians crossing the street, leaving the veteran hunter to do her work.

Minutes later, a bright blaze of heat swept over my back. Screaming rent the air. I turned, one arm raised to protect my face from the rubble showering down in a cloud of dust and smoke. Beside me, pedestrians pulled out their phones to snap pictures of the wreckage.

Anko had blown up the front of the police station.

"This is war!" I said loudly.

Asuma waved hurriedly for me to lower my voice.

Right. The curtain barely gave us any visual privacy. It wasn't exactly soundproof. "They f – ing kidnapped my sister?"

"We still don't know if she's been brainwashed or kept under drugs. Don't do anything rash before consulting the rest of your clan, kid."

I glared up at him from my seat. Ostensibly, Sarutobi Asuma was this great, capable doctor in Konoha General who was giving me a checkup. In reality, I could snap this powerful-looking man in half. I could bet he wouldn't sound so calm if the vampires had taken someone he cared about – Kurenai, for instance.

But maybe that was unfair. Asuma had been a family friend for years, and he could get into a lot of trouble for the things he'd done for us – was still doing for us. Like purging my system of the rest of the drugs, ordering scans for me to see if he'd missed things like suspicious implants … he was picking out a tag that had been imbedded in my left arm, and his anesthesia really didn't do the job. I was crying a little inside, but honestly? I was also kind of pissed. Especially after he'd caught me up.

"That's a stupid reason. Those drugs didn't work on me and they wouldn't work on Hana." My memory still wasn't completely ok, but for the most part, I knew what I needed to.

"She hasn't reached out to anyone in the network. Aburame's been trying to monitor calls and texts from the 15th Precinct, but we have nothing so far. It's possible that she's already aware of the situation but has her own reasons for keeping silent."

"Even if those drugs worked," I allowed, "they'll stop working pretty soon. It's almost the full moon!"

Asuma pulled down my sleeve and took the tray with the bloody tag to the counter. "Are werewolves really stronger on those nights?"

"Huh?" Disliking the height difference, I got up from the chair and paced. He looked up from cleaning his instruments.

"I mean," He said in a measured tone, "Will that give your sister enough of an advantage to break out of this trap when she has to? Since by now, your enemies must also be well aware of the timing."

I shrugged. Bad idea – my arm throbbed. "I guess, but they didn't really manage to stop me."

A wry smile lit on Asuma's face. "That's because Anko decided it was time to spring you out. She plotted it all out, you know – escalating street violence, making them think we were focusing on getting your sister out instead of you…"

"Why?"

Asuma leaned back against the counter, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. "Because Hana's older than you and she's been involved in the fighting much longer. She would know more about the general strategy… in theory, anyway. But in doing things this way, we've just made it harder to get her out."

"So why help me first instead?"

"Because Hana told us to, if it came down to choosing. She stayed away from most of the important meetings from then on to make herself a useless hostage, just in case she got captured herself."

"What now?" I demanded. I was out of prison, but the euphoria had died. What was the point of being free if I didn't do anything?

My stomach growled. Time to hit the cafeteria?

"I've called Kotetsu. He should be around to pick you up in a quarter-hour – needs to finish driving his current passenger to the airport."

My heart leapt, then sank. "Why should I go home anyway? They won't let me into the meetings or any of the planning."

"Who knows? They might this time."

I glanced up. Asuma didn't look sympathetic, exactly, but he knew what to say to make people feel better. Maybe that was why all those patients in the waiting room were holding out for him even though there were two other doctors on clinic duty. "Yeah, maybe."

But when he spoke again, his expression had darkened. "When you do go, make sure to pass this on to Tsume. Word from Kurenai is that the Uchiha may be moving your sister out of Konoha entirely."

I swallowed the curse that threatened to escape. They could hide her anywhere in the countryside. And now that they knew the drugs hadn't worked on one werewolf, the chances of my sister surviving the trip at all were slim.

"Yeah," I said bleakly. "I'll tell that to Mom."