"Please stop." Those words were the first ones that she muttered that morning. Her arms were frozen at her sides, and her eyes were glued on the dimmed lights above her as a tear slipped past her eyelashes.

She was safe, at least that's what he would like her to believe. She was alright, she will be okay, she had to be okay. Hinata blinked, twisting her arms painfully as she cried silently.

"Please, just stop." She bit her lip.

She could feel him; his fingers trailing up her legs, his pulsating lips pressed against her inner thighs. She wanted to kick him off, she wanted to scream for help, but she knew what would happen if she did. He had made sure that she knew the consequences of denying him — painful, mind numbing torture for the sake of his experiments.

They will be worse, he would say, they will be so much worse, and your body won't be able to handle it. I can kill you, Hinata, you know that I can. And she would comply, because, despite how much she did not fear death in her state, she feared the moments leading up to it. He always kept his word.

Hinata squeezed her legs shut, she hugged her body and her nails began to dig into her soft, warm flesh. Her lips were caught in her mouth, her voice subdued to a whimper. It would be over, it would end.

The lights above her flickered, and the door to her room opened. She heard the soft click of the lock, and the tick tock of the clock in the corner, and she counted. She waited, and she counted. Five. Six. Seven.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" A nurse pulled back the curtains around her bed, an apologetic smile on her face as she greeted her. "It's time for me to do your morning check up."

She turned her head the other way, not saying a word, because her words have frequently been stolen from her.

"Alright."

She could hear the nurse frown, but she didn't care. She wasn't safe. She wouldn't be safe. He would find her soon.

"Are you hungry?" She asked.

Hinata shook her head. She wasn't hungry, she wouldn't eat anything that came from these people. She couldn't trust them.

"How about some water?"

That was okay.

"I—" She croaked out, her mouth snapping shut at the foreign sound that left it. Preferring to just nod, she was glad when the woman understood.

"Your friend left last night, if you're wondering."

Her nails tapping on her clipboard made Hinata flinch. So loud, she was so loud. The chair he would sit in came into view, the folded blanket he used the night before was the only indication that her words were true. Ah, so he was real after all.

"He said he won't be able to be here until tonight."

She frowned.

The nurse reached out for her, in an attempt to brush her hair to the side, but retracted her outstretched hand when she saw Hinata flinch again. Everyone on the floor has heard about the patient in room 1207 who had arrived after spending hours in the operating room and the ICU. Pity was not enough to encompass the collective sorrow the staff on floor level twelve felt for the young woman.

It solidified itself the one night she had awakened after her transfer; blood curdling screams paired with her clawing at her skin — a sight that they wish to forget. They gathered in front of her door, watching as she was subdued, worry stricken faces watching as she calmed down and succumbed to a false sense of peace. They had known that day, Hyūga Hinata was plagued by demons that no one could comprehend.

"I'll be back, someone will come to get you ready for the day."

Today was therapy day; that was what was written on the calendar in front of her at least. She dreaded it, she hated the thought of it, but how else was she supposed to get better? For Sasuke? For her father? For her sister?

She knew that they were upset that they couldn't hold her freely. They couldn't touch her without risking her pulling away after mere seconds of prolonged contact. They would never know how many worms crawled under her skin at any contact. They wouldn't know about the shock in her system, the ghost feeling of sharp knives stabbing her, yelling at her for betraying him. No one should touch her, but she couldn't tell them that they couldn't.

When Naruto had arrived the week prior, she had forced herself to hold his hand because she knew he needed it. Ever the one thinking of others rather than herself. He lost his mother, he lost her and smiled when they were speaking, but she could see the pain in his eyes. She could feel his heart breaking just like hers was. Naruto wasn't supposed to cry, he should have left that to her, so she reached out for him and touched him.

Even then, she did not think of the consequences of such actions. He stood up, and her hand tingled. He closed the door and she could feel that tingle travel up her arm. He looked back at her through the transparent window and smiled, then she felt it cover her entire body. She had wanted to scream, she wanted to lash out and cry, curse him for letting her touch him.

Instead, she smiled sadly and put on her mask when black eyes met her own. Sasuke returned and she smiled, she laughed, she asked for more food, she wanted to show him that she was alright. He would not know that she wanted to claw at her skin, at her stomach. She ate too much that day, and she could not regurgitate it in fear of being in that operating room again.

They said that she was under anesthetics, that she wasn't conscious, but Hinata was used to being under blinding lights. Her eyes may not be open, nor her mind able to comprehend where she was, but even she knew, after those surgeries, that they had cut her open like he did.

The door opened and closed again, the sound of the nurse's shoes was replaced with the soft sounds of sneakers hitting the tiled floors. She turned, expecting to see her best friend, the one who she had seen first when she had woken up that day. Disappointed, she did not display any emotion as she watched a different nurse gather some of her things.

If she was being honest, she did not want to shower, because that meant other people would touch her. They couldn't leave her alone, and she knew that. She was on watch, it was hard to ignore their gazes, but they didn't want her harming herself in any way. She was too weak to do that, but that didn't stop them from waiting and watching.

It was a miracle that they didn't send her to an asylum, the mad house for people like her. With other people too traumatized to function properly. Her limited knowledge about such a place made her believe that she was perfectly eligible for that sort of place. She was crazy! They didn't see it yet, but she was!

Hinata laughed.

She laughed, and then she coughed before laughing harder. She sat up and laughed, itching at her skin. Those needles, those needles in her skin, how they annoyed her and tickled. Her laughter turned into a choked sob.

She hated being alone. If she wasn't alone, she would be okay.

Wiping her face frantically, she glared at that calendar again.

Today was therapy day. The start of therapy.

She hated it.


"Hello, Hinata."

She hated the way they said her name. Her wheelchair was stopped right in the open space at the desk in replace of a chair. She was still too weak to walk on her own. Hinata played with her fingers, not looking at the pink haired woman who studied her. Her green eyes were nice, if Hinata was her old self, she would have said as such, but she settled on taking peeks at the woman.

"I'm Doctor Haruno, but you can call me Sakura."

"That suits you." Hinata mumbled and avoided her eyes again.

Sakura smiled, "what makes you say that?"

Hinata didn't answer, she just pointed at her own hair.

"Thank you." Sakura's smile never left her face, even as she filtered through countless pages of data collected on the woman in front of her. "I suppose you know why you're here."

"Mhm." She hummed, preferring to look around the room, at every painting on the wall, and the carpet that seemed to be very interesting at the moment.

"Have you been to therapy before?"

Did talking to her guidance counselor back in high school count? She was sure it didn't, so she shook her head. She didn't need to go to therapy then, she was okay before, she wasn't now.

"That's alright. You're not one for talking, are you?"

She used to be before. Maybe if they met months ago then she would be up for holding a conversation.

"That's okay as well. Today, I just want to hear about you; things you like, things you hate, how you like your hot chocolate — all that stuff. As long as it matters to you, then I'm glad to hear about it."

Hinata raised her eyebrow. What sort of therapist wanted to know all of that?

"We have an hour every week to talk, of course, for your sake, we don't have to talk…But Hinata, you know that the longer you stay silent, the longer these sessions will be, right? If we get this down for today, we don't have to do it next week."

Hinata scoffed, of course, this was the first meeting day, the first meeting before shit hits the fan and she would have to say things she said she would never share. That did not make her feel any more comfortable with the office she sat in, or the woman who sat across from her.

"Your name means 'sunny place'." Sakura tried to get her to at least say something.

"It's cold." Hinata muttered.

"What's cold?"

"Inside."

"Would you like me to turn up the heat?" Sakura got up and walked towards the thermostat in the room. "It should start feeling a little warmer in a few minutes." She said, adjusting the temperature.

But that's not what Hinata meant. She meant that she felt cold on the inside. That a frozen tundra has taken over and, disregarding the meaning of her name, she did not feel warm in the slightest. Her sun had left her both physically and mentally.

Thirty minutes had gone by without her saying a word.

"Have you seen death?" Hinata spoke up, nearly startling Sakura.

"Uh…No. Have you?" Sakura pulled out a sheet of paper.

Hinata nodded. "My friend died, and I was close to dying many times."

Sakura wanted to say that she knew that, because of the extensive work done in the operating room [which she had observed] and her outbursts, she knew that Hinata had surely seen some things — and death wasn't exactly excluded. She kept her mouth shut though, she wouldn't interrupt in fear of silencing her.

"It's sweet — that's what death is. It stops the pain, it makes you feel warm, it's nice and welcoming. An escape from everything, it sounds great."

Is that why she attempted suicide whilst under the supervision of the nurses? Sakura frowned.

"I hope Karin is resting well…She didn't deserve to die because she had dreams. She wanted to be a doctor, to help everyone…I wish I died instead of her. She should be the one sitting here, telling her story, I'm sure it's far more interesting that mine."

"Tell me about Karin."

"She was nice." Hinata started and then stopped, her eyebrows furrowed. "She was always apologizing, always trying to make things better for me. Us girls had to stick together, that's what she would say every time I asked her why she was helping me. Karin was nice." She stared at her hands. "I wish I could have held her one last time. If I knew that she was going to die, I would have held her close and finally thank her for everything."

"Do you regret not expressing yourself?"

"Karin didn't want me to feel bad, she didn't want me to feel like I owed her anything. She always gave me her food, even if she was hungry. She would sit in my room and brush my hair, telling me stories about things that didn't exist. Ninjas — that's what she said we were. Stealthy, strong ninjas who had to face the world and also work in the shadows. I liked how she looked at the world."

That was it, she couldn't speak anymore. Hinata played with the hem of her blanket, her heart aching and her mind empty. She wanted to cry, to mourn her friend.

"Can I go now?" She whispered.

Sakura looked at the time. "I'll get a nurse."

"Okay."


"Would you like to see her?" Sasuke picked up the bento box from the counter, watching his mother walk around the kitchen.

Mikoto stopped and stared at her son, "how is she?"

He frowned. He couldn't lie and say that Hinata was good, or okay, because he knew she wasn't. She didn't have to say it, but he knew when she faked her smiles and laughter. She was trying, and he wished she would stop faking it because it made him sick. If she thought she was playing a game, then she would be shocked to know that Sasuke was playing along.

"She's…She's alive." That was all he could say. Anything else felt like a lie, and he hated lying to his mother.

"That's…That's good." Mikoto packed away the dried dishes to make space for the ones she was about to wash. "I don't think I can see her today."

"That's alright, I think she would have liked to see you."

"Maybe one day, Sasuke." Mikoto smiled sadly. "You wouldn't want to keep her waiting, would you?"

"Right." He thanked her again for the bento box. "Father is returning home today, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

"Are we having dinner then?"

"Yeah, why don't—" Mikoto stopped herself. She was going to ask him to invite Hinata, because they could never be apart for as long as she's known her son's friend. The revelation of Hinata's state has once again reminded her that things could not go back as it was before her kidnapping. "Yeah, we will. You don't have to come if you're planning on staying in the hospital tonight."

"I'll try to make it, I haven't seen father in his non-business mode in a while." He tried joking. "Hopefully he doesn't have too much grey hairs."

They laughed and then fell into a dull silence.

"You should go."

"I'll see you later." Sasuke nodded again but he made no move to leave.

"I love you, Sasuke." She didn't know what she would have done had it been her child who was kidnapped for months and experimented on.

"I love you too, mom." He stared at the bento box.

Hinata would love it.