.o59 The Ability to Live
-a CONTINUATION OF CHAIN -
It was the next day, though she couldn't tell within the hazily lit chambers that they held her in. The only sign of morning was the breakfast of simple fruit, bread and water thrown in by a gruff guard who quickly walked away as if in a trance. Sakura barely slept and felt like vomiting as her mind continuously played out multiple scenarios in which her captors – Madara and Izuna would do to her prone body and mind. This kunoichi was not meant for these types of missions though she shouldered the responsibility of completing the task. All in sake of the memory of her comrades and the friends that still lived in fear of being found and eliminated. During this time in the dark, left to chew at her thoughts, the pink haired girl questioned her ability to live. It was much more defined before the events of the world changing war and the ultimate demise of ninjas. That living and being able to were relatively 'simple' for a shinobi in that era of prolonged tensions. One's ability to live was based on how intelligent, powerful and/or 'social' one was and how those aspects kept one's head above the rising tide. Now it wasn't just those abilities that helped one live within the shifting world and its 'overlord'. No, now it was about being sneaky, tact and being able to hide one's true nature from the rules. All in order to carry out the simple function of living.
Sakura was just that until she was caught, probably snitched by suspicious nurse at the hospital who was jealous of her shapely form or uncanny 'abilities' to help others with out thinking about herself. Reminding her dearly of George Orwell's novel, 1984 – where people were turned against each other and the government was an ever present reminder of power gone wrong and their mortality. The pinkette, ate what her stomach would allow and dragged her self – chains and all until she sat against the furthest wall facing the heavy door. She would be ready for them to come drag her from that detestable pit of stone and perspiration. The air was thick, palpable with her tension as an hour or so later foot steps clicked mutably in the background. It was the only noise other than her shallow breathing to be essentially heard. Other than the constant scrabbling of rats some where behind the thick walls of her prison cell. Probably eating what they could before squeezing out.
Sometimes she wished she could be like a snake or a rat and able to squeeze out of the confines of her prison in to freedom. But that was a children's fancy at best as she watched with tired eyes, the door opening to the masked man. Madara had yet made his own appearance, probably saving his grand entrance for the interrogation chamber. As she felt his hands dig beneath her armpits to bring the woman to her weak feet. Sakura felt moderately embarrassed by this but she felt like she had no obligation to lend the man a 'hand' or effort in getting up."Izuna" was masculine enough to lift her, as he did so with out saying a word. He was 'gentle', in a sense that most guards or captors would rough the woman up, to get her to stand and hobble awkwardly to their destination. No, it was strange, instead he hoisted her over his shoulder much like a sack of vegetables. Maybe it was because they did not trust her to move where they wanted or they may have not trusted the 'blind' sheep they made their 'shinobi' and civilians in to. Blind as in, they saw no wrong with what the two men were doing to their world and to the carefully placed hierarchy that helped them all live over centuries. It was the effect of the moon, in which Sakura took every precaution not to look at lest she wanted to become like these literal zombies.
His shoulder dug in to her stomach, and her cheek bounced somewhat on his lean, clothed back as they 'ran' to the next building. It was undeniably uncomfortable but it was better than looking pitiful while walking with the heavy chakra suppressing chains they forced the kunoichi to wear out of spite. The light from the outside world stunned her vision, temporarily making her blind and helpless as she could feel 'Izuna's' hands hold on to her thighs tighter during their brisk movements. If it were any other situation and event, Sakura would feel a bit outraged at these hands pressing in to her legs, quite near her buttocks. But in a sense she could feel that this man was treating her like a piece of 'precious' cargo. Despite the obvious status in which she was branded with, right across the fore9head in invisible script – PRISONER OF WAR.
The Uchihas had no real need for her, after all they killed her comrades after completing their ambitions. And they accumulated enough power that attempts to turn the tides were inevitably quashed like a scurrying insect. At this point Sakura stopped questioning her ability to live, instead she made it a point to live. To live for not only her fallen comrades and those who hid in fear of retribution but her self. In a way this realization of 'greed' or self preservation felt liberating, but it was a scary step. After all she only now realized this when she was on the way to the hypothetical chopping block. It was unknown what they had in store for her as jade hues blinked owlishly, attempting to regain some fragment of sight. During her time being jostled on this man's back, she had gathered he held himself with some dignity of old. And a thought in the back of her mind niggled that she would be treated, rather fairly because she didn't attempt anything 'stupid' yet when she was playing doctor or being with held in the tower. Relatively playing her real 'intention' on the down low, though it was really just a speck in her mind now. All she could think about was living, surviving the trials and tribulations set before her by these men.
In some time the man blinded her carefully, just as her vision was returning from the bright light. And not to long after this they came to their destination, in which the girl thought it was the interrogation quarters of the village. She had never been more wrong, the place smelt clean, not musty or filled with the sickly tang of old blood. Instead the scent of aired tatami and a garden filled her nostrils, and Sakura was immediately suspicious. The girl knew what the interrogation rooms felt like and smelt like and this was nothing like her previous experiences with that. Her experiences consisted of going in and observing the interrogations and torture of prisoners, and being there to make sure they essentially didn't fuck up. This reminded her of an old clan house, much like what the proud Hyuugas had once owned within Konoha. Since tatami now was something that the 'rich' obliged themselves in. this was even more true because it was relatively easier for builder and home owner just to install hard flooring like wood, tile or carpet. Something wasn't right, after all that fear and mental preparation she placed her self through, this was nothing like what she braced her self to experience. Not knowing that they would give her a new ability to live.
Author's Note:
Thank you to all that have read and reviewed my writings. :) It really means a lot to me and makes me want to keep on writing. I am sorry I did not update for almost a year – college, part time job and a relationship takes up the majority of my attention. But I will continue tring to service every one with quality writing on Sakura and Madara. Even if some may not like it :3