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Covenant
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Synopsis: Four years into the Fourth Shinobi War, Orochimaru offers to turn.
He all but requests Sakura by name to be the contact.
It is, quite clearly, a trap—least of all because he's supposed to be dead.
But what is a losing side to do except take the hand that's offered?
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3. The Pact
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SAKURA STEPPED back into a defensive position immediately.
A trap!
Something closed over the door behind her as the man in the chair stood. It's a trap!
Her mind was running a million miles an hour. The air stilled between the group as Sakura retreated until the wall protected her back. Which one was most dangerous? The only one she knew was Orochimaru. Who was the cat-mask man beside him giving orders?
Who did Orochimaru report to? Who would the Sannin report to besides Madara? The Orochimaru she'd known was too proud to take orders from anyone.
And who was the wave-mask man in the chair? He'd an above-average mastery over Water Release—a slight counter to her fighting style. That also meant he was likely a nukenin from Kiri or a survivor from Ame.
There were too many variables unaccounted for. Flight was the safest option in this situation. She could probably punch her way through the wall behind her...
"Relax, kid," wave-mask said from the corner. Then, "Don't spook her like that."
Orochimaru only grinned as he straightened himself. Fear spiking again, she pushed her chakra out until it formed a soft barrier across her skin. Tsunade had warned that she'd send Naruto if she got trapped here. They both knew he'd come regardless, even if Tsunade wanted to stop him. Naruto could absolutely not get drawn into an enemy base. She had to get out. If she had to blow her cover—
"Seriously, relax. Don't get your chakra all riled."
"It'd be useful to see her in action," said Orochimaru. "She may be required to defend herself, after all."
She quieted her thoughts and summoned chakra scalpels to both hands. It would be a fight, then.
"We'll have to kill her if she gets caught here battling, and they ain't sending another one to use after that. Get your pet snake in line, bossman."
"Pet?" Orochimaru slid an icy glare to the other side of the room. "Don't forget who made you. Do not test me."
Wave-mask man stepped forward with a shrug. "Things are different now, right? Let's go at it and see."
The room sizzled as the two men stared one another down. Watching the argument, Sakura crouched even lower, as if the traded glares may lop her head clean off her shoulders. Her mind picked back up. Were they allies? Did they both report to the cat-mask man in the middle? Did they all share the same goal?
At least for the moment, it seemed these two men were more dangerous to each other than her.
A snake slid out of Orochimaru's cuff onto the ground. It folded around his foot protectively.
"Enough." The command held a tone of finality in an unfamiliar male voice. Cat-mask, who'd been leaning hushed against the operating table the whole time, pushed himself to full height, a few inches taller than the others.
The other two let a beat pass before setting aside the disagreement. Wave-mask flopped back onto the chair with a bored air.
"Put your weapons away," ordered cat-mask. She didn't, but the snake at Orochimaru's feet disappeared with a pop. His voice seemed to drop an octave—"Put them away or I'll send you away."
Sakura hesitated—but, well, she could always re-summon them. The scalpels faded from her hands, though she kept the defensive shield. It wasn't a weapon, was it?
"No need to be so jumpy, medic. We've no desire to harm you today," said Orochimaru. Sakura made a mental note of the today part. "It was just an introduction to the real source. Although the three of us intend to assist the Allies, and you'll report your information as if it came from me, you'll receive the information from this man beside me."
"That was not the agreement you offered," she reiterated. "The Allies agreed to make you a source. They agreed to pardon you. I don't have the authority to agree to three pardons, two of whom I don't know. And I don't have permission to receive information from other sources."
"Mm… Aren't you mistaken in your understanding of the agreement? There was no specified name or number attached to who was turning or who would provide information. 'Information will be provided in exchange for full pardons. No country shall claim ownership over the ninja involved.'"
Sakura assessed Orochimaru's argument and mentally ran through the agreement herself, frowning. How cunning, she thought. Or conniving…
"That you've been sent in compliance with our contact demands indicates you do, in fact, have full authority to act within the agreement as it stands."
Despite the sound logic, the Kage would never agree to full pardons without knowing first what crimes were getting wiped. Orochimaru's transgressions were vast and cruel—but they were known and worth legal forgiveness if it meant winning the war. The number of people seeking pardons had unexpectedly tripled, and she had no idea what kinds of crimes the Akatsuki members committed in the past. She was sure the Kage would fall on the side of Anything for Victory, but how many sins would be swept under the rug for the greater good?
War let anyone get away with murder.
She crossed her arms and regarded the cat-mask man before her. "Who are you, then?"
"Someone important," replied Orochimaru.
Sakura ignored him. "Do you have a name?"
"Of course he does," Orochimaru continued. "But it made things easier to contact the Allies with my name."
"How so?"
Orochimaru only smiled.
"You're near the front of the bingo book." She wavered, "Well, you were. I can't think of many people whose name would hold even less weight than yours."
And that was the truth. Orochimaru had abducted children and experimented on them. He'd founded an entire village to do it. The only redeeming quality to him was the scientific knowledge behind his quest, twisted as it was. There were few shinobi in the world the Kage held more disdain for than Orochimaru. Only those who'd carried out plans of mass murder—like Madara, Tobi, and Hidan—or those who attempted assassination on the Kage themselves, like—
She left the thought abruptly.
"Well, there's no bingo book in war, is there? And the Hokage and I were once quite close. Although, with you being so young," a sly look passed over his face, "you probably didn't know that, right?"
"Mm, that's right. So, if he's someone important…" She motioned to the chair at the lazing body—"Then who's that guy?"
"That's no one—"
"—I'm second in command around here. You can call me—"
"Enough chatting. Get to the point." Cat-mask said it without effect or volume, yet it fell upon the room like written law.
His voice was unnaturally low. Now that she thought about it, it was apparent that a jutsu concealed the true sound.
She should practice that jutsu before their next meeting. It was the only thing currently unconcealed, though she'd tried to speak with a slight western accent. Neither masked man had commented on it yet, so she assumed they didn't know her true self. Whether Orochimaru recognized her voice was irrelevant; it was clear he knew who she was by now.
"Very well," said Orochimaru. "Let's move along to the main event then. We're willing to provide information to the Allies, through you, on how to defeat Madara. The conditions for the Allies were provided in our message—"
"We accept," she interjected.
"—but we require some personal assurances from you, the contact, that will become a smaller agreement between you and my…superior here. Your personal agreement will not bind the Allies, of course."
Her eyes narrowed—A trap. "Nothing about that was included in the agreement, either."
"It's common for a gatherer and a source to make a covenant between them on a personal level." Orochimaru shrugged. "I didn't realize it was necessary to include such a trivial matter."
Sakura considered that. Truthfully, this was far outside her element. She had no clue what was typical in these arrangements. She was sent here with a day's worth of training. If that alone didn't prove how desperate the Allies were for a breakthrough…
She was in no position to refuse whatever they asked of her. Short of demanding she die, she had strict orders to get this information. There were few alternatives.
It gave her a sick feeling to think, They probably know that.
"What kind of covenant?" she asked.
"The usual covenant of pacts. Loyalty. Silence. Cooperation." Orochimaru held three fingers up. "Perhaps a few other customary pacts."
Sakura nodded slowly. Those weren't unreasonable pacts. They were things she would do without the covenant.
"And how is the covenant made?"
"It's marked by a seal. You'll have one placed on you."
"I'll not have your seal placed on me!" she blurted out. Both masked men seemed to shift when she cleared her throat a moment later, realizing she may have given something away. "I…I won't take a curse mark, I mean. I've heard that's what you were known for. The Kage would be highly displeased if I came back with that, but I can probably think of another method if you give me till our next meeting."
Orochimaru raised his hands in appeasement. "You'll make the covenant with my superior. It'll be the usual seal used in these matters—not a curse mark. He's the real source, as I said."
"...And will your superior be sealed as well, to hold him to the terms?"
"No," cat-mask man—the Superior answered quickly, voice still too deep. "It'll be forged with a single seal."
Suspicious. Sakura inspected the man's figure, trying to glimpse something identifying. His posture was formal. His shoulders were relaxed and broad. He could be anybody in the world.
"One-way seals aren't covenants. They're fetters. Orochimaru," but her gaze remained on the Superior, "I'm here in good faith. I'll accept the terms you want to place on this agreement. However, if I return sealed and find that I've been tricked into servitude, the Allies will terminate the agreement and you will be outed as a traitor to Madara."
Wave-mask man snickered in the corner. The other turned to Orochimaru, whispering something. Orochimaru shook his head and the whispering went on.
"We'll have mutual seals or we'll have none," Sakura declared after a minute.
Orochimaru, to her surprise, nodded. "Quite reasonable."
She looked expectantly at the Superior. He was out-voted. After a brief pause—
"I'll make a single pact," he agreed.
"But you'll take the full covenant, medic," added Orochimaru.
She seethed. A trap, for sure. What else could she do, though? She was caged. She needed them more than they needed her. Anyone could be the gatherer provided these men were willing to renegotiate their requirements, but far fewer shinobi would have as high a chance of not dying on the job as Sakura.
"Fine. Which pact will you take?"
"Doesn't much matter. Pick one."
She considered the options. Loyalty seemed risky in this context—if he was completely and utterly loyal to the Allies, he might be unable to gather the right information. Silence? It'd be a waste to ask for that. If he wanted to keep his head, he'd remain silent without pacting it. Cooperation? But wasn't that the point of his reaching out to provide information in the first place?
The more she thought about which pact would be most pragmatic, the more she realized that a covenant likely was standard procedure. In the context of gathering, the pacts that would make up such a covenant were relatively straightforward to the situation itself.
Still, it probably needed to be something similar to loyalty, but something that captured more than just loyalty.
"How about devotion?" she suggested.
The wave-mask man actually laughed. "Devotion?"
Her cheeks went hot. "Loyalty is too narrow if it's the only pact at play. Devotion would permit disloyal actions if done for the greater goal. We all have the same goal, after all…right?"
Orochimaru was smirking. "I think that's very smart."
The Superior bent down to whisper more. By the time they finished their discussion, Sakura's knees felt stiff. How long had this meeting dragged on? Wave-mask let out a dramatically loud yawn.
"I'll take it," said the Superior after what felt like half an hour. "But you'll not take devotion."
"That's fine. What will I take, then?"
"Loyalty, silence, cooperation, and expeditiousness," responded Orochimaru. "Ah, and honesty."
"I can't make a pact of honesty. That's too dangerous for me."
"Mm…" Orochimaru brought his hand to his chin. "How about veracity, then? It would apply more to the situation than to your actions and words. We can place it at the end, so it's the least binding."
Honestly speaking, if it were non-negotiable, she would've taken honesty. It wasn't like she had much leverage in this circumstance. She briskly agreed to the swap before he changed his mind. Although she'd managed to keep a calm head for the most part, her nerves were completely frayed. She was ready to get the promised information and return to base—to safety.
"Alright. Let's complete the seals and be done with it," said Sakura. "What's the jutsu?"
Orochimaru stepped closer. "I'll be casting it. A third party must do it."
No one moved to do anything after that. She surveyed the two men standing in front of her.
"Go on then," she prompted.
"You two need to be touching to place the seals. I suggest grabbing one another at the wrists, but anywhere will work. The seal will be placed wherever the palm touches or a place near the palm if you direct your chakra there."
Sakura glanced down; her sleeveless qipao dress left her wrists uncovered. The seal would have to be somewhere her typical outfit hid—it'd look suspicious if she suddenly changed her base uniform. Her elbows were covered while on assignment, but she rarely wore the protectors in camp.
Ghosting forward, the Superior offered her his newly ungloved hand. He'd pushed his sleeves back to reveal a creamy wrist.
Her eyes roved across it for any clues to his identity. He was pale. The wrist was thick but lithe, fingers long and elegant. Veins slightly rose beneath the skin. He presented his right hand, but his palm lacked the signs of weapon calluses. He either didn't use weapons frequently, used non-physical weapons like her scalpels, or had purposefully presented his non-dominant hand. Or, he specialized in something other than combat. Or, he was fringing his appearance. Or—
Defeated, she sighed and hid a glower. A wrist was clearly not enough to identify a person. She'd barely narrowed the possibilities at all.
"It can't be my wrist. They're always visible, people would see the seal."
"The seal is quite small," Orochimaru assured.
"Even so," said Sakura. "Let me think."
She considered her various attires. The qipao, the battle uniform, her doctor's vest. Her chest, belly, and thighs were the only consistently covered areas, and she was certainly not going to lift her clothes for this complete stranger, an indubitable criminal, to leave a seal there.
Her feet were a possibility. But—she'd almost rather die than take her shoes off in front of these men and ask one of them to hold her foot.
"How about my neck?"
Wave-mask man on the chair laughed again, and the outstretched hand twitched a little.
"No," the Superior shot down immediately. "Somewhere else."
She grabbed his hand and placed it around the base of her throat. The fingers were hot. His fingertips pressed into her skin as they loosely laid around her neck, pinky and ring finger brushing her collarbone.
She contained the blush trying its hardest to bloom. This was better than a foot…but only slightly.
"It's fine," she said, gazing up into the black cat mask. "There aren't many other places I'm willing to let you mark."
His hand twitched again, and the sitting man cackled. "Careful bossman, she's underage!"
"Enough," the Superior ground out.
In her opinion, their bodies were uncomfortably close; nothing in its language indicated he felt similarly. She reminded herself that, from his perspective, she was underage. And deducing from his stature and the other man's comments, he was not.
She wrapped her hand around the wrist that held her neck. "I'm ready."
"Start," instructed the Superior.
Orochimaru performed the jutsu. She didn't dare look away from the mask that tilted down towards her—not with his hand lightly gripping her neck.
"Channel to the center of your palm and release," said Orochimaru.
Sakura did so. "Release."
"Release."
A sharp pain shot through the pin of her neck, where the clavicles met. A rushing sensation slid through her chakra flow, a foreign mass interlocking itself into her consciousness through a seal she felt form at the spot. It felt...not unfamiliar. Masked.
A shudder ran through her.
The hand on her stiffened. "What is this?" came a whisper from above.
The temperature in the room dropped. Her eyes flew open and her face was closer to the cat mask than before, like he was leaning over. She tugged at his arm with her grip on his wrist. The room seemed to dim as his clutch only tightened further.
"Release her," said Orochimaru calmly.
His hold lessened, but it wasn't removed.
"You knew." The Superior directed it at Orochimaru with an ominous quiet.
Shadows seemed to move across the walls.
"I most certainly did not. She didn't appear fringed even when I examined her. You saw for yourself." After a pause, he added: "Are you suggesting that I'm better at detecting genjutsu than you?"
Wave-mask man was out of the chair now, a hand on the mouth of his mask. Orochimaru stood where he'd cast the jutsu, the lightest traces of a grin on his face. And the man squeezing her neck remained still as a statue; not moving to let her go, but not moving to press the life out of her, either.
His fingers constricted again. "Undo it."
"It can't be undone," Orochimaru stated.
"Don't lie to me. Undo it immediately or you'll regret it."
"I'm not lying. It may be possible, but I don't know how. Therefore, as it stands, it can't be undone."
His hand felt like it was shaking. Sakura came to her senses and crushed his wrist with a chakra-infused clench. Cursing, he snatched it away as if burned, finally freeing her.
She'd broken bones.
Her demeanor remained steady, but inside she was utterly rattled by his abrupt and dramatic change. Flattening back into the wall, she pressed a green hand to her neck. No damage. Orochimaru was appraising her with glee while the other two men stood unmoving. Her fingers brushed against the ends of soft, short hair.
Short hair?
She peeked up into—pink. Her breath caught. Her sights traveled down to too-tight clothes and the curves of a woman. Not a teenager. Reaching for the transformation jutsu in her mind—
It was gone. She was compromised.
Sakura fell into a defensive position again.
Wave-mask man sloped forward like he needed a better view. "It—no. It can't be. One of your tricks, snake?"
"No, no tricks," Orochimaru replied easily. "She took a pact of veracity. That pact always starts with the truth."
"You're fucking sly. Fucking sly! I couldn't sense a damn thing! I really thought they'd sent an unconcealed kid…HA!"
"So did I," Orochimaru purred. His eyes glittered, and Sakura just knew he was lying.
"I thought it was risky of them to send in such a rookie, but they actually sent their battle medic? Their head battle medic?! Are they fucking idiots?" He doubled over in laughter, falling back into the chair.
The Superior's mask whipped towards the other man and the laughter became choking sounds. Wave-mask man's hands clawed at his throat until he made no sound at all…then he was released, gasping for air.
"Let me go. If you know me, then you know who they'll send to recover me," Sakura warned. "And how will you explain to Madara why those people showed up here when they've been out of battle for years?" It was one thing to be an unknown, seemingly unimportant medic in the middle of an enemy base. It was an entirely other matter to be herself here. She had no clue if she could take all three, but she could probably cause enough destruction to escape in the confusion. "Let me leave or I'll force my way out. I can survive a cave-in."
The Superior was only a foot away, staring at her from under his mask. The shadows on the walls were growing. His chakra remained masked, but his aura was deadly without it.
Sakura spiked her chakra in response.
"Mask that," he snapped, voice like ice. "And stay." The new seal hummed on her neck and she felt dizzy for a second. The Superior turned to Orochimaru. "Outside. Both of you." He body-flickered out of the room.
Orochimaru didn't look as worried as Sakura thought he should be when his superior smelled of slaughter.
"Do make yourself comfortable, Sakura Haruno. We'll be back soon. It should go without saying, but please don't leave this area… I'd hate for someone to see you." He smirked and walked out the door.
The other masked man followed. He gave her a clear once-over before shaking his head and closing the door behind him with another chortle.
Panic hit her immediately.
She was alone in an enemy base, fully compromised and unable to transform because the covenant kept enforcing veracity on her. She tried to form the transformation four times before giving up and huddling in the corner.
It was a trap. She'd gotten trapped. They were either calling over Madara or leaving her to starve in this…cave.
She needed to leave this place immediately. She'd been tricked. She'd been tricked. Holding back tears, she poked at the seal on the base of her neck. Gatherers probably never made covenants with their sources. She'd let herself fall for the most obvious trickery…
But she wouldn't cry. It wasn't worth it. It wouldn't help. She was capable of getting out of this.
She did whack herself in the head a few times before setting her mind to planning. She was such a fucking idiot…
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By the time the door opened, Sakura had planned a full escape. It included collapsing the cave and summoning Katsuyu to alert Tsunade. Hopefully she'd remain relatively uncrushed in the process. Hundred Healings would keep her alive and make her whole, but it'd be terribly painful to regenerate her entire body.
Cramming into the space between the chair and the corner of the room, she layered a simple genjutsu to hide from anyone not seeking her out and intermittently banged her head against the wall as punishment for this stupidity.
She'd let herself make a covenant…just because Orochimaru said she should! Orochimaru! The man who'd torn apart her team, stirred upheaval in Konoha, the rogue ninja who experimented on children had said, 'Oh—hey—every gatherer covenants themselves with their source,' and she'd barely batted an eye! She let curse seal Orochimaru lay a sealing jutsu on her.
She thrust her head into the wall.
Tsunade was going to disown her as a student.
The Superior walked in, immediately spotting her. She decided in that instant to stop referring to him as such. He was not her superior—he was simply the Source. Orochimaru entered behind him with labored breathing and a devious grin. The third man didn't reappear.
"Get up," the Source demanded. "Your first assignment is to heal him."
Orochimaru approached her. She eyed him warily and stood. She felt a quick dizziness, then the seal hummed again. Heal him, came a thought.
She focused on what was happening with the seal. She could tell that she retained some form of free will. It wasn't forcing her to obey, and there wasn't a hint of negative consequence awaiting her if she refused to heal him…but the seal felt linked to her neurotransmitters. Endorphins soaked her brain as she lifted green hands to comply with the request, another brief wave of dizziness washing over her.
That was—a bit dangerous. Potentially addictive.
"I don't think he deserves it," she mumbled to no one in particular, despite already scanning his chest. Three fractured ribs. A punctured lung. Bruised kidney. Broken finger. Abrasions across his back. When she dropped her hands, the endorphins cut off immediately. Extremely dangerous. "You'll have to lie down."
"You can't diagnose with him standing up?" asked the Source.
"I can't repair a fractured rib with him standing up. At least not comfortably, for him. Although…" She paused, glaring at Orochimaru. "Actually, let's not lay down."
Before any objections, she set to regrowing his bones. Repairing his lung and kidney. She forced his finger into place and readjusted it. Shot cold chakra through his chest to his back to mend the broken skin. Orochimaru looked pale and sweaty when she left her healing trance a minute later. She hadn't bothered numbing the pain.
With a curled lip she sneered, "All better."
Orochimaru gave a shaky nod and sat in the empty chair, breathing hard. "My thanks."
"You're done?" The Source turned toward Orochimaru, examining him.
"It wasn't much. Went a bit faster since I wanted it to hurt."
He remained silent. She felt his chakra in the seal, yet he managed to keep it masked even there. A blank signature. Molding her own around it, she tried to find a weak point—anything hinting at who he was. The concealment remained firm under her prodding.
"Who are you?" Sakura inquired.
He didn't answer.
"...What should I call you, then?"
"Gatherers don't use names."
He slanted against the operating table again, arms crossed. The murderous aura had vanished; he was as calm as he'd been before the sealing, indifference hanging about his person. Whatever qualms he'd had when the transformation lifted seemed to have eased during the beating he'd obviously inflicted on Orochimaru.
It was more likely than not a surprise response, she figured. He'd probably also been under the impression she was just an unconcealed teenage contact. Anyone would've been shocked to see such a high-ranking military official on an infiltration operation like this.
But…hadn't the specifications asked for her?
The Source was technically the holder of the agreement, after all. He should've known. Or had Orochimaru crafted the agreement with autonomy? Or maybe she'd been wrong, and he actually wanted Ino. That thought filled her with dread.
"Were you expecting me?"
"I was expecting a gatherer," answered the Source.
"Me, specifically?"
His posture was eased, but it seemed more forced than it had a second ago. "When you return, tell the Hokage to ready someone else."
Her heart dropped—he was expecting Ino. "What do you mean?"
"Orochimaru will start researching how to undo the seal so a new contact can resume the agreement."
"It has to be me," she insisted.
"Anyone but you."
She felt her ego flare. "I'm more than capable—"
"Your presence in Madara's base is too huge a liability."
"My transformation is undetectable."
"Is it?" And even without seeing it, Sakura knew his vision swept the length of her unconcealed body.
Her face grew hot with a scowl. "Well it tricked you, didn't it?"
He uncrossed his arms and leaned them back against the table. "You're an unnecessary and avoidable risk. I'm aware of the personnel that would likely comprise your retrieval team. A different contact would endanger the outcome of this agreement far less than you do."
"A different contact would endanger the agreement in other ways. I'm the only one capable of performing that particular transformation jutsu at the moment. Someone else would be compromised immediately."
"There are already other ways in which you specifically compromise this agreement. You'll return and ready a new contact."
"Ino isn't cleared to accept this assignment. I comply with the specifications more, anyway. You requested a medic, and I'm the best. I'm the contact, end of story. Take it or leave it. It won't be her."
He paused. "What?"
"Maybe if you amend the specifications, the Hokage can send someone else. Otherwise, it's me."
They analyzed each other.
"Tell your Hokage," the Source seemed to breathe through his teeth, "to send Shizune."
"She didn't graduate with the Nine Tails."
"What?"
"Are you agreeing to change the terms, then?"
He didn't answer. They stared again for some time, her mind working over the conversation. There was a disconnect somewhere, but...Shizune? Had he gotten her name from Orochimaru?
The more she thought about it, the more apparent it became that she couldn't let herself be forced off this assignment. The medics who were Classed to take this mission were fewer than 20—all of whom she oversaw and had a personal relationship with. She was best suited for this task and wouldn't send one of her friends here now that she was fully aware of the trap they'd laid.
"I'm the contact," she said. "We sealed it. It's done."
The temperature plummeted again. She had to convince him—Tsunade would send someone else at the first opportunity she got. If the Source demanded Sakura be removed, the Hokage would agree instantly. Sakura couldn't push someone else into the lion's den in her place.
"I promise I'll fulfill all the terms. I'll come the second you call for me. But, I'm who you get—"
Her words died as he was suddenly mere inches before her.
"Transform," he whispered. "Now."
She felt his permission through the seal and the jutsu didn't fizzle out when she placed it this time, her brain buzzing with endorphins. Hair brushed against her elbows. She peered up into his mask—it was further away than it had been seconds before. The Source grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest.
Scan him—is what the seal felt like.
Her hand was engulfed in green when the door opened behind her.
"You're being summoned, Master," said a soft voice. "As is Orochimaru."
"We'll be there soon."
"I was told to fetch you quickly. Tobi—"
"Leave." The threat was left unsaid, and the door clicked shut.
She removed her hand from him even faster. "I need to go."
The Source moved away, glancing towards Orochimaru, who still had a sweat going. "The meeting wasn't supposed to go this long," he said.
"Is there a way for me to safely exit?"
There was a quiet hesitancy as the two men eyed one another.
"She should stay until Tobi leaves," said Orochimaru.
Her heart stilled. Sakura focused on the present to stave off the panic. It was a psychology trick she'd learned years ago. Focus on the senses and avoid the thoughts. She was in a lab. In a cave. It was damp. A chill in the air touched the skin differently than the winter chill under the sky. It smelled of sulfur and disinfectant. She tried to focus on anything except the loud thoughts telling her—
"You're selling me out."
"No." The Source was still looking at Orochimaru even as he addressed her. "Tobi was scheduled to arrive after you were supposed to have left."
"You never meant to fulfill the agreement," she murmured. "You and the snake tricked me."
"I may have tricked you out of your transformation," Orochimaru agreed. "But there's no plan to turn you in. You getting caught here would end us as soon as it ended you. We'd have no explanation for why you're in my personal lab, unhurt and unchained."
"You'll leave as soon as he's gone," said the Source.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Stay calm.
"Take her to your room. The genjutsu should hide her. He'll believe you're keeping a pet healer if not," Orochimaru suggested.
A hand wrapped around her upper arm. She felt a tug at her navel, blinked, and was in another room. A bedroom.
The Source released her and stepped back. "Stay here for now. Don't leave this room," he instructed. She felt the seal respond to the request, releasing endorphins when she made no move to leave. "You'll be on your own if you leave. I won't help you if you're caught outside."
"I get it," she growled.
With an almost imperceptible nod, he vanished.
Although she was nervous, there was no reason to panic. Orochimaru was right—they stood to lose as much as she did if she was snared in this predicament. And, she reminded herself, the Source made a pact. Far fewer than she had, but he was sealed with devotion to the agreement. Though it probably wouldn't stop him from betraying her in the end, it'd at least sway him not to betray her if unnecessary.
At the moment, the safest option was to trust the snake she knew rather than risk meeting the one she didn't. If they wanted her to be caught, there was no reason to seclude her behind the many layers of genjutsu she felt on the other side of the door.
She explored.
The room was larger than she'd anticipated a room in a cave lair might be. To be fair, however, she'd never spent much time thinking about cave rooms. It was rectangular, with a sleeping mat in the far corner that appeared unbearably uncomfortable and a weapon grinder across from it. A rock desk carved out of the wall was arranged by the bed, with a wooden chair. Above the desk were shelves lined with dozens of books, scrolls, and unused tags.
A carved opening by the entry door led into a small bathroom. There was no door or covering to separate the two spaces. The toilet was safely tucked in a corner, not plainly visible until entering the room. Similarly, the sink was attached to the wall beside the opening. Unless you were near the opening itself, the wall blocked its view. But the shower was in complete eyeline of the bedroom, little more than a shower head affixed to the ceiling, a drain beneath it. The floor curved in, ensuring the water wouldn't escape. It was behind no glass panel—no curtain. It was almost crude.
She turned back to the books. History books, genjutsu books, healing books. She flipped a few open, hoping the Source had written something in them to discern his identity. Finding nothing, she slid the unhelpful tome back into its original spot. The room was so sparse her survey had taken only minutes.
Sakura entered the bathroom and found what she had hoped: A mirror hung above the sink. It was a small thing, hung at a height that required toe-standing to inspect her full face.
A teenager gazed back, 15 or 16 at most. Her eyes stood out as they always did against her pale skin. But the girl's cheekbones were higher, brows thicker. The lips were fuller than her own and the nose slightly straighter. Her bangs swept to the side as she typically wore her own, the rest a deep auburn that fell to her lower back. The forehead was definitely smaller than usual.
All in all, Sakura thought she was much prettier like this than she was as herself.
And the seal on her neck—wasn't there. Of course it wasn't. The byakugou was hidden in this transformation, too. She wondered what the new one looked like—Orochimaru said it'd be small, and she hoped that was true. She ran her hand across the area it lay between the clavicles. The masked, foreign chakra stored in it rippled against her touch.
Perhaps he was able to keep it masked because he was still nearby.
.
.
When the Source returned hours later, Sakura was strewn across the sleeping mat on her stomach. Calves in the air, resting the top half of her body on her elbows to read Earth Release: Forbidden Jutsus. He still wore the Akatsuki mask and robe. His chakra was still heavily concealed.
But he reeked of blood.
Warily, she observed how he leaned himself against the wall, favoring his right side. His left shoulder hung lower than the other beneath the robe, indicating it'd likely been ripped from the socket. He lifted his hand to the mask before his head spun in her direction and froze.
"Welcome back," said Sakura. "Can I leave now?"
He seemed to come to his senses and let his hand fall. "Not yet," the Source replied.
If she weren't a medic, she wouldn't have noticed the strain in his voice. He walked to the desk and slumped into the chair.
"Has Tobi left?"
The Source took a deep breath and popped his shoulder back into place. Sakura watched with a learned eye—if he continued doing that, his shoulder would become prone to dislocating. It likely already was. She could force the ligaments to regenerate, probably.
"Not yet."
"You shouldn't do that to your shoulder often."
The Source scoffed. "I didn't dislocate it on purpose."
"Obviously," she mumbled.
Silence fell between them. With a lofty humph, she returned to the book, pretending to flip through the pages. She should be afraid in this situation—alone in a room with a strange, anonymous criminal—but the seal hummed pleasantly, and the atmosphere lacked any sense of danger.
It felt…not unknown? Not comfortable, not uncomfortable. Much like any mission would feel during downtimes, missions she was assigned a team she'd never worked with before.
He sat there just breathing, and Sakura had no clue if he was staring at her or sleeping.
After some time, she finally asked, "Do you need healing?"
His shoulders tensed, then he shuffled in the chair, and it was evident to Sakura that something on his side was injured.
When he didn't answer, she added, "That is part of the agreement, isn't it?"
"...Aa."
"Then, come lay down." She stood, motioning to the mat when he didn't promptly move to occupy the vacancy. "Watching you squirm about in pain over there is driving me mad. Lay down."
After a brief show of reluctance, the Source gently lifted himself from the chair and lowered onto the mat. Kneeling beside him, she scanned. His shoulder was a mess. The entire left ribcage and lung were bruised. His right wrist was crushed—Oh, probably from her. A cut on his arm had the markings of poison, but his chakra seemed to have formed a barrier around it that prevented spreading.
That was ingenious. She'd recommended using a similar technique to the newer medics to stop the spread long enough for someone who could draw the poison out to arrive. That he was using the method suggested he had, at the least, a rudimentary understanding of healing jutsu, or that he discussed such topics with Orochimaru.
And—the chakra channels around his eyes were overloaded to the extent they felt fried. Cocking her head, she moved her hands up to hover over the mask.
Her wrists were suddenly in a painful grip.
"What are you doing?" he hissed.
She yanked her hands back, placing more distance between them.
"Scanning your injuries!" She glared at him. "Do you want to be healed or not? I'll not be manhandled during the session—let's get that straight right now."
"Stay away from the mask. It stays on, as does the uniform."
"I was checking your eyes. I don't care enough to try to remove your mask, and I probably don't want to know who you are anyway. You're clearly untrustworthy. The less I know about you, the better!"
"...Stay away from those, too."
"Why don't you tell me everywhere that's off-limits so I can avoid unsolicited grabbing." She remained a foot away, regarding him with suspicion.
"Anything under the mask."
"Yeah, I got that one. Anywhere else?"
He paused. "The groin area."
"Disgusting," she muttered, face warming. With green hands, she moved back to his side. "Men everywhere are the same. I'd sooner reveal myself to Tobi than have anything to do with…that."
She thought she heard a chuckle, but more likely, she imagined it. When the examination was finished, she relayed his injuries and outlined how she planned to address them.
"You scanned all that, that quickly?"
"Sure. I'm scanning people all day. I have been for the past four years—it's just practice." She waved it away. "But since the agreement depends on my healing, I promise to heal you with the utmost care and concentration. It may seem fast, but I assure you it's quality."
With that, she set to work. Warming her chakra, she pulsed it into the Source to numb the areas as she worked. She pulled the poison out first and sealed the wound. Regenerated his shoulder to reinforce it against dislocation, then moved the regeneration to his ribcage and lung. His wrist was a bit difficult to rebuild—there were so many small bones in a wrist, and he'd clearly used it while it was broken.
Three minutes had passed when she finished. She sat back on her heels and gave him a satisfied once-over.
"Are you done?"
"Yep. How do you feel?"
He inhaled deeply, without any sign of struggle. "Feels…fine. I didn't—feel any pain while you worked."
"It's nice, right? Although it can become addictive. If I think you're becoming dependent on it, I'll cut back on its use." When he didn't make to move, she glanced about his person for signs of more injury. "Is there something I missed?"
"No. It was just…fast."
"It's quality, I promise. Are there not many medics with Madara? Your shoulder looked like it hadn't been healed ever."
He pushed himself up into a sitting position, rolling his shoulder. "There are healers," was all he provided.
Standing, he returned to the desk; she reclaimed the mat that now smelled slightly metallic.
"When can I leave?"
He was silent for a moment. "Tobi plans to stay for at least another day."
Another day? Her stomach dropped—a whole day in an enemy cave? She didn't even know what time it was. There was nothing to do in this room, and the only other occupant was a mystery man who, whoever he was, was an enemy just two days ago.
"They might try to retrieve me if I don't report for that long."
"Hmm…" He tapped a finger on the desk. "Orochimaru will send word. Is there a code to assure them of your safety?"
There was—but she wasn't going to tell him. "No. Anything will do. The Hokage would know if I was dead."
"Through the slug?"
Her brows shot up. How would the Source know that? And deduce it so swiftly?
Because, yes—if she died, her contract with Katsuyu would vanish, and Katsuyu would certainly alert Tsunade immediately. Her contract with the slug was widely known, but only a small portion of the world's shinobi had contracts themselves. Most wouldn't know the details of a summoning agreement—particularly a shared one.
She fished for a way to avoid answering. "You know a lot about summons?"
He didn't even fish—he just straight up didn't answer. As if planning to sleep there, the Source had reclined back in the chair. Sakura studied him again, hard, desperate for a clue to his identity. The robe covered every part of him; gloves and closed sandals covered the rest. The mask was fastened somewhere underneath his hood. It could be Kakashi under there, for all she could tell. Hell, it could be Madara himself. Besides his general frame, there was nothing to extract.
It hit her suddenly—there was one thing.
"You use dojutsu, right?" Sakura made sure not to blink as she watched his response.
It was wildly unhelpful. The Source didn't move or freeze in the slightest. With the hope for something rewarding hastily quelled, she pulled the book she'd discarded to the side back over to her—flicking through a few pages with feigned apathy.
"Your eyes seemed quite strained."
"Aa, I was given a technique through some of Orochimaru's experiments. It is straining. I train it but can't use it in battle very efficiently yet."
His response was instant. It was either well-rehearsed, he was a good liar, or it was simply the truth. Without knowing much more about the man, there was no way to choose one option over the others.
Sakura sighed in quiet disappointment. "I see."
Although the pool was narrowed with that information, it still consisted of thousands. Most dojutsu were extremely rare and available only to bloodlines, but some were attainable for anyone with compatible chakra who trained enough. Albeit often with extreme pain.
She didn't bother trying to continue the conversation, displeased that her one lead fizzled out so speedily.
Though she wasn't sure how, she was sure it wasn't proper. Miles underground in an unknown location, in a barren room with a strange man, on a mat that smelled slightly of dried blood, in the same cave as an enemy general. It went against all protocol and good sense she ought to possess. But the seal felt like it was saying, Go to sleep, and—
Sakura drifted into unconsciousness sometime after that.
Thanks to my (two) reviewers,
tatutu and MagicalReader
Please review and alert~
Thanks for the read :D
and thanks to the story's beta-reader, Leech