When the Soul Speaks Chapter 41: Fight, Flight, or Freeze, a naruto fanfic

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

A/N:

Dearest Readers,

Sorry for the delay. This chapter was originally over 70 pages long and I am not kidding when I say that I rewrote sections of this chapter multiple times trying to get it just right, trying to make myself happy with it. And I think it's there. Or as close as it's going to get.

In order to get it out in a somewhat timely manner I ended up splitting it into two. But I think it worked out for the best. The halves had very different central themes. And full transparency the remaining chapters are hefty, real meaty. So please be patient with the frequency of the updates. It probably won't be as often as it had been in the past. Thank you for your understanding!

As you may have guessed this chapter is going to be heavy so be prepared. Warning: all the trigger warnings. Especially in the first half. Let's get into it.

~L.H.

Chapter 41: Fight, Flight, or Freeze

She heard him before she saw him. He was speaking with the guard. Loudly. Shizune moved to the gate.

"Lee-san," Shizune smiled at the raven-haired man. "How can I help you?"

"Letter, Kato-san." The man bellowed. The guard winched and moved even further away from the man. "Expedited delivery. Must be important. I just finished delivering another expedited letter addressed by Haruno-san's aunt to the Namikaze Compound."

Shizune's smile slipped off her face. Her heart stammered in her chest. She nearly snatched the letter from the man. Her face had lost all color. Shizune tore it open. She whirled around so that her back was to the men. Her dark eyes scanned the letter quickly. It was in her shorthand. She could read it faster than the time it took for Tsuande to write it. It was confirmation. She felt something bud in her; something rise. This was exactly what they had hoped for.

They had proof. Shizune folded the letter with shaking hands. Her breath had left her body. She tucked it into her obi before turning on her heel. She set off running.

She ran even as her lungs burned and her skin was sweaty. She ran until she reached the dark double doors. She ripped them open. They slammed into the frame angrily. A pair of dark eyes regarded her. Shizune saw the shift in them. How quickly they went from bored to expectant.

"You have the toxin?" Reimi straightened.

"Better," Shizune grinned from ear to ear. "We have proof. He did it."

"The letter came." Reimi brought her hands together. She clapped them once together in triumph. "Thank Kami."

Shizune's smile dimmed. She scanned the room. It was missing one very distinctive head. "Where's Sakura-chan?"

Reimi's face, which was painted white with dark drawn-in brows and blood-red lips, lost all color. "She left."

Shizune furrowed her brow in her confusion. "She has a whole day of appointments planned." She was the only piece of the plan Shizune did not account for. She did not need to. Sakura's schedule was packed.

"She's at the shop!" Reimi said with a sense of urgency. "She's been gone for longer than thirty minutes!" She added hurriedly in a way that clearly meant something additional to her. Her sense of urgency doubled if not tripled.

Shizune's stomach sank. It twisted into knots. Her brain worked faster than her lips could move. "You tell Obaasan that the Sensei killed Sakura's Otosan. Tell her not to say anything to anyone and to not leave the complex. Tell her to wait for me. Please! I'll explain everything!"

"He gets violent when he's mad!" Reimi blurted out unnecessarily. Shizune had already left the room, like a woman possessed.

Reimi gathered the hem of her dark kimono and set off in a brisk walk. As fast as her tall hair would allow without running the risk of toppling over and taking her down along with it.

Something clicked. All the pieces finally fit together for her. The little things that had been nagging away that she ignored. She had been lying to herself. Repeatedly. She had been lying to herself all the while knowing full well it was impossible to completely lie to yourself. It was all clear. The fog that obscured her vision and thinking all this time, cleared. It left just as quickly and unceremoniously as it had come.

She never told him about Tonika. She only told Minori that. Just as she never went into the specifics of her father's condition with anyone but Minori. Lee was the only other person outside of her family and the Namikazes who knew. She had never even told Kabuto it was her father who was sick. And yet he had medicine on hand and was ready to give her father on their first meeting. Her mother's letter has said as much. The letter that went missing for days only to reappear. The only letter Lee-san had ever misplaced in all his years of owning and running his shop. The very letter that coincided with his unannounced, undiscussed, and unplanned visit to her home. He was not helping her out of the goodness of his heart. Her father's rapid decline and ultimate death after Kabuto started his treatment. Everything she had convinced herself was just her being paranoid. It was finally all adding up. He targeted her. He did not do anything for her. He did everything to her.

She was not making herself low on account of what she believed he did for her, but rather, he was holding down her head. Pushing it down with force. Preventing her from coming up for air. Preventing her from seeing what was going on around her. He was holding her down. He put her in this position. Trapped. Trapped with the man who murdered her father.

"Sakura," Kabuto adjusted his glasses, lifting them off his face as he did so. "Bunny, you left the front door to the shop open. Anyone could have come in and stolen from us. I know money came into our life abruptly but we will lose it just as quickly if you continue to be so careless." He chided her as if she were a small child. Patronizing. "You must be more mindful and less scatterbrained."

She took a couple of steps back. "You," her eyes were wide with both terror and realization, "You poisoned my Otosan." The accusation came out weak-sounding. Like she could not believe the words either.

Kabuto's lips pulled into a smile. He ran his tongue along the bottom one. She shuddered. "You remember the difference! I'm impressed. Especially considering how you didn't even bother to write it down once I said it was poisonous in the right conditions."

She swallowed thickly. He was moving closer to her. She moved back until she was up against the desk. She put up her hand. He stopped when he was just out of reach.

"You killed him." Her eyes blazed in furry. "You killed my Otosan."

"No," Kabuto said gently. "You did, Sakura. When you rejected my proposal. The first one." Kabuto leered at her. Her arm fell, limp to her side. His words achieved their goal: shock. "If you had just said yes, he would still be alive."

Her heart skipped a beat. She shook her head. "No," she said barely above a whisper. So broken.

"You're cursed, remember?" Kabuto smiled at her. Warm and inviting. He inched closer to her. One small step at a time.

"Shimura-sama?" She looked at him with wide eyes. Her mind was as jumbled as the feelings swirling inside of her. Nothing was too small of a detail. Him knowing about her being cursed. How quickly the Sensei found her. Her being dumped outside of his shop. She could not overlook a single detail now. She had overlooked so much. Too much.

Kabuto nodded. "We go way back. He's the reason why I'm in Konoha actually. He knows my Shishou. A huge fan of his work. A loyal patron." Kabuto was within centimeters of her now. "He told me everything."

"Why?" She asked him brokenly. Tears broke through her eyes and trailed down from her face. Everything was a lie. Her mother was right. She should not have trusted anyone. Too bad she only realized that now. When it was much too late.

Kabuto held her chin. He tilted her head up gently so she had no choice but to look him in the eye.

"You have no value, Sakura." He said grimly. "But your womb does. You will make me what I want."

She tried to shake her head but he held firm. Her thoughts were muddled. "I don't understand." She said meekly.

"Let me explain it to you." He smoothed her messy hair with a tender hand. Her chin was still held captive. "I was told of your arrival. Just to keep an eye on you. Uzumaki women tend to be problematic," he turned her head slowly. Studying her face for imperfections, critically. Like she was some farm animal to be appraised and sold. "That has been true to my experience as well." He sighed softly. "But I digress." His lips pressed together for the briefest of moments. He swiped at her blush with his thumb pad. She winced out of reflex.

"He told me bits and pieces about you. Strictly need to know. What he felt I needed to know. I had to do my own verification. It's hard for me to trust people," Kabuto admitted with disappointment. "People aren't what they say they are." He leered at her. His thumb pressed into her neck, her pulse raced under his skin. If he had to wager a guess, it was close to if not over 100 beats per minute. "It was not all clear. Especially not in the beginning."

"When I saw you on the clearing on your first full Sunday following your arrival, with your hair down to your hips, I knew it was you. A scorned Senju. People are afraid of what they do not understand. They are afraid of different. I knew my status and stature would never ever measure up to what our society deems of value: blood. I am not even remotely in your league. You should have been so far out of reach. Had it not been for your hair." He rubbed a lock between his fingers tenderly.

'You baka! He saw your hair! You were careless.' The voice in her head screamed at her. Unhelpfully. She was just as anxious as Sakura. But even more helpless. She did not have a body. There was no hope of her doing anything. She was just a thought. A fragment.

"Something so simply explained by science was condemned by the mindless masses. It worked in my favor. You have less self-esteem than the weight of a single ant. It would not have taken much to build you up. To get you to open up. After all, you crave affection. Don't you, my sweet, sweet pet?" He asked her gently. "It's okay. You can admit it to me. I know you. I understand you."

He was squeezing her cheeks together. Making it nearly impossible for her to form words. "The Namikaze taking interest in you threw me for a loop. I won't lie. I didn't account for him. He gave you confidence." His face pulled into a look of disgust. "What did he do? Did he encourage you to be yourself? Did he tell you to follow your dreams?" He mocked cruelly. "All the while he misrepresented himself to you."

Kabuto's dark eyes bore into hers.

"I saw the change in you. How you didn't let me touch you. The ferocity in your eyes." Kabuto chuckled. The sound was harsh and almost sinister. It made her heart rate pick up.

"But Pet," he sighed deeply, "life is nothing if not about adaptability." Because he could, he stroked her face relishing the way her breath hitched in pure fear. His thumb moved over her lips. And for a sickening second, she thought he would dip his head and kiss her. The mere thought had her whole body recoiling.

"I adapted to the Namikaze, it worked out for the best. He devastated you. Broke you, crushed you, and made you into something even more pitiful than you were even when you arrived. He betrayed you. He broke your heart. And your spirit. He made it easier for me to step in and save the day." He laughed. "He turned me into your savior."

Tears stung in Sakura's eyes. She was a captive audience. Forced to listen to it all. To relive the moments in her head. To relieve some of the darkest days of her life.

"You helped him," Sakura said brokenly. "You worked with him." All to get her in his grasp.

"Wrong again," Kabuto contradicted her statement with confidence. "You choose to do things the hard way. I tried to shield you. I tried to take you out of there. Before Danzo decided enough was enough. But you had to stay. For the boy." He practically hissed. He collected himself.

"I told Danzo not to touch your face or anything visible." Kabuto's tone heavily implied that he did her a great favor of some kind. "I saved your life. He wanted to kill you. I talked him down. Said that would make you a martyr in the Namikaze's head. He would never be able to settle down again after that. The guilt would not let him. And it is because of me, Danzo did not lay a hand on you with any other intention than to harm. I saved you, Sakura. I saved you from having the fate that Danzo had planned for you. He is an animal."

She gulped. Kabuto's eyes followed the movement of her throat. A bead of sweat trailed down her temple to her chin. The pad of his thumb caught it. Her eyes never left his. He was enjoying this. Tormenting her brought out more emotion in him than she had seen ever before. The man in front of her was a stranger. He was the real Yakushi Kabuto. His mask had been ripped off. And she was a witness to it all.

His expression turned thoughtful. Reflective. "Your father hated me when he first laid eyes on me. His instincts, like yours, were right about me. I was no good. I only had one objective. He said he would not make his daughter a whore." He grinned. "I guess that was his way of showing he valued you more than the dirt in his fields. By trying to protect you. And he did his best. He fought me. He resisted my help. Like you in the beginning."

Her stomach churned. Her nausea grew. The spinning in her head probably was the culprit as to why. She struggled to hang on.

"But your mother," he chuckled. "Oh, your sweet, dumb, innocent mother. She welcomed me with open arms. She practically kissed the ground I walked on. She did what I needed her to. She forced you to agree to marry me."

Sakura blinked lethargically. She was close to shutting down. Disassociating. She could not believe it. She could not handle it. She did not want to hear more.

"You're the perfect blend of them, your parents I mean. I see you in them. You have the stubbornness and instincts of your father. And the poor decision-making skills and delusionality of your mother." Kabuto clicked his tongue. "Some things really are enraged at the cellular level. You had such poor genes to fight."

She could not bring herself to be offended on their behalf. On her own behalf.

"Especially your mother's." He shook his head in something akin to amusement like this was some sort of play for his entertainment and her life. "Remind me to send her a big thank you. None of this would have been possible without her." He smiled in pure unadulterated contentment. "She really is my biggest supporter. And your biggest grievance." He sighed with feigned empathy. "She is not a very good mother to you. Forget protecting you. She actively hurt you."

Kabuto's voice screeched in her head. Like a nail on glass. "I adapted to dear Obaasan accepting the both of us without much fanfare. Even if it was about ten months ahead of schedule. I was certain we would have to have a baby before that happened." He pursed his lips together.

Something inside of her fought to come to the surface. To fight. Something triggered by the words he just uttered.

"You put Naruto-kun in harm's way," she snarled; showing signs of life. "Your snake could have bitten him! He's smaller. You could have killed him!"

"I had anti-venom. A calculated risk. I had to make my entry into your life at some point. I wanted it to be memorable." His thumbs traced her jawline. "I wanted you to know who I was. Who I could be to you. Who I was going to be to you."

Sakura glared at him. She clung to the anger. She nurtured it. He could have killed a child. And it would not keep him up at night. She wondered how many children he experimented on. How many he killed gleefully. She saw him for who he was and not who he presented himself to be. A grim reaper in the visage of a medic. He was death, not life. He was a killer, not a healer. She had been so blinded. Blinded by her circumstances and her responsibilities. Blinded by her desperation.

"To think," he chuckled. "That they thought the same trick would work twice. Your sister, she is an expert in toxins, am I right?"

Sakura's forehead folded into lines of guarded confusion.

"They thought that they could use the madam, Reimi, to bring me down like they did for Danzo. Namikaze really must not think much of me." Kabuto beamed in a sing-song voice. "He thought I would fall for her offer of a free night. A going-away gift she called it." He laughed bitterly. He was offended by their lack of consideration for his ability to see through the ruse. An insult to his intelligence that he so clearly was prideful of.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sakura shook her head. Her hands clenched at her sides. Her blunt nails cut into her palms hard enough to draw blood. It kept her alert. The pain kept her focused.

"It's not important." Kabuto sucked his teeth. "I believe you. But I can't lie. I really wish you didn't do this, Sakura. It's going to take a lot of work for me to trust you again. We're really starting off our marriage on the wrong foot."

She scoffed. "I'm not marrying you. You killed my Otosan!" She glared at him with all the animosity in her bones.

"Sakura," Kabuto tapped her nose. "We talked about this. You did that. You left me no choice." He smiled. "And yes. We are getting married. I worked far too hard and far too long for you to come and undo all my efforts." He looked at the clock on the wall. "You should be heading back. We have a wedding to throw tomorrow." He grinned at her. "Did you like my present? What did you think of my note, Wife?" He lifted her top lip with his thumb. "Use even strokes with the brush. Make sure you get an even coating of color. Splotches will be unsightly." He advised helpfully.

Her blood boiled. Her hand moved to her stomach. "There is no wedding. We are not getting married. I am not your wife. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not in even a hundred lifetimes." She said through clenched teeth. Firm. Her emerald eyes were defiant in every sense of the word. "Never."

He clicked his tongue akin to a disciplinary action. "Sweet, naive, Sakura," he smoothed her hair with both his hands. They came to rest around her neck. His thumbs pressed against the base with pressure that was not quite painful. Yet. "We are. We are getting married. We are to be husband and wife in this lifetime. The only lifetime that matters and that is. And it is going to happen tomorrow. Then we will come back here and consummate our marriage. And hopefully, in nine months time our family will have one additional member." He smiled. "If not, you will have to endure quite a bit of me."

"You are out of your mind if you think I'm going to go through with any of that. I'm going to -"

Kabuto scoffed. "You're going to do what, Bunny? Hm?" He stared at her expectantly. The sheer lack of botheration on his face coupled with traces of smugness had her faltering. "Are you going to explain to some undereducated peon who received his high post through connections or birth what my equations and formulas mean? You, a woman, are going to tell them I poisoned your father? Made easier by the ration pills you gave him?" His grin grew sinister at the shock on her face.

"The ingredients you used while harmless on their own and even together, made it all possible for my medication to slowly kill your father. Two things might work beautifully together but introduce a third, and you have disharmony. Calamity. You are just as culpable as me in his deterioration. The Whitelock just expedited everything. It saved him from having to suffer. I was mercy." He whispered fully believing what he said.

She could not breathe. She gasped for air. She helped him kill her father. "You said -"

"I lied." He said gleefully. He patted the top of her head. "Listen, Sakura, I really do not care to repeat myself. But for you, I will try one more time. We are going to get married. You will bear my children. I will be a Senju. I will have an identity. I will have a name. I will have power. I will have influence. I will sit on the clan council as the family representative. I will lead this clan. I will work to ensure my Shishou, Orochimaru-sama, is welcomed in the Land of Fire one day. I will open practices all over the country. I will be someone. My name will mean something. After giving me an heir, you are welcome to die. You can even choose how. I don't care. But not before then."

"Go to hell," Sakura spat in his face.

Kabuto licked off her saliva with a grin. "I even sent my Shishou a pre-wedding present. Some of your hair. He's working on replicating it now. We will have our own Oni Army." He grinned at the horror on her face. "They will run at the sight of Pink. Just like Iwa did for the Yellow Flash. He will invade your home with heads of hair that look just like yours." He smiled fondly at her. "You will no longer be alone."

"You're sick." Her hand around her stomach tightened. Her left had curled into a fist.

"I'm a visionary." He sighed. "So hurry up. Go back to Obaasan. Tell her I say hello. Be sure to look demure at the wedding tomorrow. And it goes without saying to keep your pretty little mouth closed."

"Sensei," she shook her head. "You will be thrown in prison when I show them all this proof." If not killed on the spot.

"No one is going to believe you. The Shogun, the current residing one, knows me. He supports me. He will stand in my defense. Men he put into power will support me. You have no idea how high up this goes. No matter what proof you think you have or even your aunt thinks. You are both mere women. Women, who by all accounts, should not even know the difference between two herbs. You are playing make-believe in man's world. Both of you will be thrown in prison. Maybe even beheaded. All before the Yellow Flash can take over and do anything to help." He frowned. His face pulled into an expression of forlornness. "How tragic would that be?"

Sakura blinked. Processing it all slowly. The scenario he painted seemed more likely than the one she had in her head. Who would listen to her for more than five seconds? Especially when he was the only healer in three towns. And he had been here for half a decade longer than her. He was respected. His word held value. All she had was equations and a dried flower. No one would care. They would overlook it. They would look the other way. As angry as it made her. That was the truth. The Sensei brought more value to the village than her dead father did.

Especially if what he said about having friends in high places was true. Politics was just a world she dipped her toe into. Poisonings, corruption, alliances, backstabbings, adultery, and untimely deaths were all the norm. She did not know what to believe. She did not know what to think. She was surrounded on all sides by bleakness. By darkness. By him and his sphere of influence.

"Bunny, ever wonder about the mysterious illness that nearly wiped out nearly a fifth of the population in Konoha? Ever think how it happened to coincide with my Shishou being forced out? About how the illness ended at the Namikaze Compound? Or was it that it began there?"

"You're lying," she said before she even realized what had come out of her mouth. "You're lying."

"Maybe," Kabuto laughed, "or maybe my Shishou left Konoha with a parting farewell present." His dark eyes gleamed at the prospect. "Poisoning well water is not all that hard. It's not guarded all that well. It weeded out the weak. A stronger gene pool for future generations."

"Stop," she was seconds away from covering her ears with her hands. She could not afford to get caught in his web of lies again. Distraction could cost her everything. She glared at him. "Just stop. It's not happening. You're not going to get what you want."

He kept going. "Sakura, I know your weakness," Kabuto smirked. "Your family."

"Don't you dare -" she narrowed her eyes into enraged slits of hardened emerald.

Kabuto rolled his eyes. "Killing them is not what I meant. At least not initially. I need them alive. What I meant was, if you refuse to marry me. I'll just have to spread a little rumor as to why the wedding was called off."

Sakura eyed him suspiciously. Her jaw was set in a firm line.

"That Haruno Sakura whored herself out to put a roof over her head. No different from a prostitute." Kabuto said unfazed by the magnitude of his allegation. "She became the one thing her father on his deathbed did not want for her. From a hime to whore. No one will touch you. At least when the Senju daughters ran they eventually married. They had their husbands even if they brought dishonor and shame to the name. You, Sakura, will have neither."

"So really," he drawled. "The choice is yours. Be my wife or be Konoha's newest dirty little whore."

Sakura gaped at him. "No one will believe you."

"They will. Of course they will," he smiled. "You've been seen conversing with them. Openly. In fact, didn't a prostitute do your face?" He posed the question rhetorically.

"That means nothing." She shook her head. "You're grasping at nothing."

His sinister expression had her stomach lurching.

"I've seen you, Sakura. All of you." He let go of her.

Her blood froze in her veins. The world stopped spinning. Gravity was suddenly too great. Her knees gave out under her. She crashed to the ground painfully. She barely caught herself with her hands. Her pink hair fell around her like a curtain, it swept the ground. Despite its length and thickness, it was unable to hide her shame. The squirrel was not a squirrel. It was him.

"You owe me, Sakura." He crouched down next to her. Gently brushing the strands from her face. "I could have had you at any time. I nearly did one night. After your Otosan's tragic and senseless passing. But I showed great restraint because I believed at that time that we could have had a nice life together. A really nice life. I did so much for you. All you had to do was to stop thinking about the man who you never stood a chance with. That's all I ever wanted." He sighed. "I got a taste of you." His nose pressed up against the back of her earlobe. "You're sweet, addicting."

She swallowed back bile.

"I'm not letting you go now. No matter what. You're mine. All mine." His breath burned her where it touched. Like vapor made of acid. "I own you."

"Anko-chan," she breathed her name, crushed. She remembered the way his teeth felt on her skin. The bug bite was his doing.

"Yes, she tried to help you. She dumped out the drugged tea." Kabuto made a sound of remorse. "She betrayed me. So I had to hurt her. Remind her who she belonged to."

"Your poor Obaasan will probably die of embarrassment at the news. At worst. Disown you at best. Your Okaasan might be indifferent. It's hard to know. Namikaze will probably not believe it. In the beginning anyway. But the proof will be hard to refute." Kabuto shook his head. He rested his arms on his thighs. His head bowed down. "Or there is another option if you don't comply. I much prefer it. We get to be together this way."

Sakura did not look at him. It took nearly everything for her to not fall completely to the cold hard ground. Her elbows shook, unsteady. She blinked at the dirt directly below her line of sight.

"You will marry me because I am the father of your child."

Her insides coiled. "You're not the -," her eyes widened in realization. Fear pricked at every nerve ending in her body. The thought had not occurred to her. But now that it hit her, she started to shake. All of her. Her lips parted as she breathed through her mouth trying hard to fill her deprived lungs and power her sluggish brain.

He should have let her die. At the hands of Danzo. That way her Otosan would still be alive.

"You called yourself my tool, Sakura. Now is the time to have your actions back up your claim." He squeezed her chin in a gesture of affection. "Contain my poison." She did not understand it. She did not understand him. "You're in the right stage of your cycle. Give a day or so." He said calmly. "You might get lucky with a one-and-done."

He was tracking her cycle. She did not soak in the tub on the days that she bled. He watched her. He knew the days. She had no right to feel as numb as she did. If she was a little more present and in control of her mind, she would have wondered if that could also be the reason why he pushed up the wedding. She was entering her peak fertility window. And she never took the damn pill. She condemned her child. He or she never stood a chance. Just like her. She was continuing the cycle.

"I can't have children." She said with a straight face thinking as quickly as she could on her hands and knees. "I -"

"Did you figure it out," Kabuto asked her almost gleefully, "what all those little glass circles in the wall mean? I saw you. Every. Single. Move. You. Made."

Sakura's blood turned into ice. Congealing in her veins.

"The pill the prostitute gave you?" Kabuto laughed. "It was nothing more than a sugar pill. A placebo. They have long grown barren. The formula you read in my scrolls rendered them infertile after about a couple of months of them taking it. Each and every one of them."

"You monster," she whispered. If true, not only did he completely violate the trust they placed in him, he was making a pure profit off of the situation he created. She did not even know what to focus on. She was so outraged. How could she have been so wrong about him?

"It was the only way to make sure no bastards were sired, a request from the great Shimura-sama. He was very, very adamant on that requirement." Kabuto said almost dismissively. "Better to not be born than to be born to a whore mother, right?"

"That's not for you to decide," she breathed. "How could you do that to them?"

"You show whores more consideration than you've ever shown yourself." He kissed his teeth. "The notes you read, the scrolls. The formula mixture you think you created, I would say in all odds, it makes you more likely to conceive."

She let out a sound of pure disbelief.

"Not even my notes could be trusted, Bunny." He readjusted them. "Not all of them were completely accurate. Nor were our lessons."

She wanted to curl up into a ball on the floor. She could feel herself give up. The pill and potion she did not take, the one thing she could not do for her future children, was nothing. It was a lie just like everything else. She did not even know which way was up.

"Never have I met such a brilliant idiot." He gushed. "What a conundrum you are. You understood everything I taught you. You picked it up so quickly. You can do math in your head. You can balance equations in your head. You can see connections and patterns in medicine. You can do all that but you were unable to see what was right in front of you. You missed all the signs. You pretended not to notice them. You wanted to be safe. And even the illusion of safety was enough for you to stop thinking." He tapped her temple. "You abandoned the thing that made you who you are. Your brain. Your intelligence. You forsook it for ignorance."

Mercy in the form of silence reached her ears. It did not last long.

"Tell me, Bunny." His eyes shone with curiosity. "Is ignorance truly bliss?"

She was immobilized. All she could do was blink. Not much else.

He rose to his feet and moved closer to her. His hip brushed against the top of her head. "Do I need to cut you? Do you need to bleed?" He asked nonchalantly. "For you to feel something? Something other than terror?" He asked with a small hum. "It can be arranged. Although," he tapped his chin, "I would rather not cut into you the day before our wedding. It has the potential to raise so many unpleasant questions."

He laughed. "You tried to get me to lose my cool, didn't you?" He shook his head as if reliving a fond memory. "When you asked me if I was angry. You wanted me angry. So you finally convince yourself to leave me." His expression became heavy. "Or were you hoping I would kill you? I have theories of course. Care you enlighten me?"

Sakura kept her mouth closed. It was not voluntary on her part. Her jaw was starting to lock up.

"I supposed in the grand scheme of things it doesn't matter," Kabuto shrugged dismissively as he clicked and tutted his tongue. "You still had fight in you then." He smirked. "There was still light behind your eyes. I snuffed it out." He was very proud of his accomplishment.

Sakura blinked slowly. The terror had risen to the point she could taste fear in her mouth. It was in her saliva. She wondered just how much more it would take before her heart gave out. Like the animal he referred to as, a bunny. A prey species that could literally be scared to death. Maybe he was right, the nickname was fitting after all.

She closed her eyes.

He patted her head from her crown to where it connected with her neck. Repeating the gesture that she was too far gone to be fully aware of.

"It's time, Bunny." He coaxed her. "I'm not quite ready yet. I need a little help from you."

She could not move. She did not think it was possible. Like she had been drugged. The air in the shed made her limbs feel heavy. Or maybe it was the weight of what had been the reality that had finally caught up to her. She could not even manage to turn her head away from the will he was trying to exert on her. The phrase frozen with terror was not metaphorical or hyperbole. It was her reality.

"You're the only one who can keep me in line, Sakura." He continued to run his fingers through her hair. "I am yours to fix."

She closed her eyes and breathed through her mouth. His not-so-subtle reminder put everything into perspective. He could kill her family at any time. He could do the same to Minato's. They would not be safe. They would never be safe with him lurking around. He had too much power and knowledge. He had powerful allies. He needed to be watched.

She forced her jaw to loosen through what remained of her waning will. "They know I'm here. They'll come looking for me," her lips trembled as her voice quivered. "You're taking an unnecessary risk." She tried to appeal to his sense of logic. To his rational side. "They'll come for me." She said unconvincingly, not quite believing it herself.

"We better make it quick then." He moved his hand to the fasten of his pants. The dark fabric pooled around his ankles. He stood before her in his undergarments. The same undergarments she washed and dried for him.

Sakura looked up at him, through waves of pink with a broken expression.

"Shh," he said in what he determined to be a soothing manner. "It won't be bad. I'll be efficient." His eyes softened. "You're doing this for your family. For the good of everyone. For the Senju name."

She tilted her head back down, her unfocused gaze, between his legs. Even the voice in her head had gone silent. The silence was deafening.

"Just give in, Pet. It will make everything so much easier." The hand against the back of her head was pushing her towards him. He closed his eyes. That was how much he did not see her as a threat. As something to be afraid or even wary of. His guard was completely down.

Who in their right mind would be scared of a small, tiny, pink bunny? An obedient, subservient, submissive one on top of that? Owners were not scared of their pets. That was not the nature of that dynamic or relationship.

'When will you stop letting things happen to you?'

The voice that had grown quiet and abandoned her, came back blaring. Her hand shook as she reached for her obi.

"Accept what you cannot change, Sakura." His fingers curled in her hair. "We belong together. We understand each other." His mouth remained open in anticipation.

'Stop waiting for things to happen and start making them happen.'

The voice judged her just as much as it pushed her. She pictured Reimi's face. It transformed into her sister's before morphing into her aunt's. Then Tomoha's which bled into her grandmother's features. What would they think if they saw her now? Strong women. Women she admired who overcame all obstacles and circumstances. Women who stood on their own two feet. Women she was not worthy of being in the presence of.

The current face that was in her head was younger. She was watching her with big, round, perturbed eyes.

'Rin-chan.'

Rin looked up to her. She called her Oneechan for Kami's sake. Rin admired her. What would she think of all this? With Sakura on her hands and knees with a crotch pushed up against her face. How easily and almost readily she accepted her punishment. Her stomach churned in disgust. How could she ever look Rin in the eye?

It did not take long for another face to join her. Eyes not black or purple with matching hair color.

'Anko-chan.'

The teenager endured pain for her. She helped Sakura knowing full well what it would cost her. She bled so that Sakura would not be in this situation. Anko saved her from this fate only for Sakura to not even so much as protest. It was a slap in the face.

The last face. The last face nearly broke her. She stared at the blank face of ten-year-old Sakura. Her cheek was still red from where her mother stuck her. She failed that little girl. She failed herself. The image was so vivid it was as if she was staring into the surface of a mirror. A de-aging mirror. Little Sakura blinked slowly at her, completely disassociating with her knees curled to her chest. Too scared and overwhelmed to even lift her head. Sakura saw her begin to tear off a hangnail.

Was this really who that little girl grew up to be? So listless? So accepting of all the bullshit that rained down on her. Could Sakura look that version of herself in the eye and tell her she deserved everything that happened to her? That it was her fault? Could Sakura ask her former self to just endure it all without question? Could she stomach that?

Could she ask herself to do the same now? Was time all that separated her and that little girl? Did she have nothing else to show for the eleven years she lived since then? Was she really still that powerless?

'Go!'

No one was coming. They never did then, for that little girl. Why would anyone come for her now?

She closed her eyes. Coolness greeted her fingertips. It clashed with the heat of her body. A stark contrast between their states. It was a tool. Just as she claimed to be. They were both just tools. But maybe that was not true anymore. Maybe, that was no longer the case.

She felt something, something other than numbness; something breaking through the despair. She could feel the adrenaline start to thaw out the ice. Her blood thinned. Before it started to slowly heat up to a simmer and then finally a full-fledged boil.

The hand in her hair was growing impatient. She could feel his nails, longer and sharper than hers, digging into her scalp hard enough to leave impressions.

"Bunny." He practically moaned.

'For her.' The voice in her head encouraged her. Her voice.

This was not who she was. This was not who she wanted to be. This was who he tried to make her to be. And she refused to accept that. Sakura's face pulled into a snarl just as she removed the covering.

'For me. For me!'

Everything aligned. Just for a moment. Her window. She could see the edge of the darkness.

"I'm not your fucking pet, shannaro!" She roared, drowning out Kabuto's pained cry with the sound of her voice. It was loud enough to shatter eardrums and shake the earth they stood on.

He lurched forward, doubled down in pain, clenching at the substantial gash on his thigh. His forehead hit the desk as he crumbled to the ground. She barely had time to crawl around him, out of the way. Sakura scurried to her feet with wild movements. Her hair nearly blinded her. She ran to the door with unbalanced steps. She could just make out the bright light of the sun. She was almost there. So close.

'Go!'

A grip around her ankle followed by a harsh tug caught her off guard. She let out a gasp. She crashed heavily down on her stomach, unable to break her fall. The dagger clattered out of her hand, skidding across the ground. The sound echoed off the four tin walls. Every bone in her body seemed to rattle. Her teeth pressed up together painfully, hard enough to crack. She was sprawled in the dirt. She peeled her torso off the ground. She used her elbows to try to crawl away. Away from him. Towards her weapon. Towards safety.

She strained to reach it, stretching as far as she humanly could. She cursed her small stature.

A face with only one dark eye and dark hair flashed before her. She froze. Her body locked up on her. She could hear his heavy breathing behind her. The sound alone was enough to make her dry heave. He was much too close. His hand was still around her ankle. It was cold and clammy. She felt him pull himself up, using her flesh as his grip-holds.

'Go!'

The voice in her head screamed at her in sheer desperation. She half turned her body. She was too vulnerable on her stomach. She pushed down the images. Survival was everything. She could be suspended in trauma tomorrow. But she had to live through today, through right now. Her other leg swung wildly trying to kick him in the head.

"Help!" She cried out as loudly as she could, desperately. It was followed by a cry born out of pain. His fingernails dug into her hips as he dragged himself over her frame. Her hair was being pulled back hard enough that tears stung in her eyes. "Help me!" She screamed louder than she had at any point in her life.

A grunt and exclamation left his mouth. He pulled her towards him by her hair. It did not take long for him to climb on top of her. Trying to subdue her with his weight. She continued her struggle against him. She flailed her elbows, trying anything she could to stop him. Her cheek pressed up against the gravel of the ground. She could feel it being cut open with each of his jerky movements against her. The hand in her hair fisted even tighter. The dagger was becoming blurry as her vision swam with tears. A blow connected. The grip loosened just enough.

She struggled, rolling onto her back. She could feel his blood dripping onto her clothing. Making it first wet then stiff.

"You bitch!" Kabuto struggled to grab her flailing limbs. She bit him in the hand. Hard enough to taste his blood in her mouth. Another scream echoed in the shed. She tried to push him completely off her.

Kabuto slapped her. Hard. So hard that her breath reversed. It did not leave her chest. She was seeing stars and spots. He grabbed her wrists and pinned her to the ground.

Sakura gasped for air. Her eyes were wild as sweat rained down from his nose onto her face. Sakura let out a scream. A cry. She bucked her hips and raised her knee. Catching him in the groin.

Kabuto cursed loudly. He let go of one of her hands. It was enough. She brought her forehead to his, headbutting him. She worked through the daze to shove him off her. Sakura clambered to her feet. Hobbled, bent, and out of breath. She moved towards the dagger. She let out a sigh when her fingers curled around it. She nearly started laughing in relief.

Kabuto's eyes widened. Adrenaline propelled him. He tackled her to the ground when her back was still to him. He landed heavily on her. He slammed her fist, the one holding the dagger, to the ground repeatedly. Her dominant hand. She struggled. He put nearly all his weight on her hand. She did not relent. He grabbed her finger firmly in his sweaty grip and twisted. Sakura screamed. The pain was so sudden and severe that her hand went slack.

He slapped the dagger from it. She let out a sound that was not quite human in her pained frustration. She clawed at his face with her only free hand. Scratching and biting what she could. Screaming and grunting the whole time in her struggle. Her eyes snapped closed when he curled his fingers in her hair, pulling harshly. He slammed her head against the ground. She let out a dazed gasp. His fingers dig into her temples, squeezing painfully. She tried to buck her hips but he kept her pinned with the weight of his legs. He climbed over her. Trying to get to the weapon.

He had a longer reach than her by nearly half a foot. She hung onto his torso and legs for dear life. Her life. Her adrenaline kept her from feeling the pain too much. It numbed it to the point it was manageable. Sakura's sweat and blood mixed with her carefully done makeup. Her mask was one of anguish and desperation; more primal than human.

Sakura wrapped her arms and legs around him like a constrictor. She squeezed with everything she had. Even going as far as digging her nails into the cut in his thigh. She could feel her fingernails start to drown. He used his arms to inch them both to the weapon. His glasses had fallen off his face. All he saw was a metal blur, the light of the lanterns refracted off of it, against the dark earth. Once he had the weapon, she would have no choice but to comply. She did not want to die. That much was clear to him. She would give him what he wanted.

"You are my tool!" He grunted in anger. The hand not pointed towards the weapon reached back and tried to dig into her eye sockets to blind her.

She cocked her right fist back as far as it would go. Her pinky did not join its peers. She swung almost blindly. She was no one's tool. That. Was. Not. Her.

Both screamed as bone connected with bone.

Jiraiya set down the brush. He looked over the characters he had written on the formally stark piece of paper. Minato held his breath. Jiraiya's face was grave when he raised it to his nephews. He had just finished expanding Tsunade's letter.

"She figured it out. He killed him."

Minato felt heat hit him squarely in the chest. It was so consuming he did not even have time or thought to feel anything other than relief. Pure and unadulterated belief. They had what they needed. Finally, he saw light again.

It did not last long. Almost just as soon as Jiraiya uttered the words there was a breathless Shizune at the door with Kakashi right behind her. Her eyes were wild. And her breathing was erratic. She gripped the door frame with white knuckles.

"She's at the shop. Hurry!" She collapsed onto the ground.

He was gone by the time she ended her sentence.

Jiraiya was standing on his feet. His tall imposing frame looked even taller and more imposing from her vantage point on the ground. Her hand was on her heart. It would give out she was sure of it. Her eyes widened in realization.

"She won't listen to him!" Shizune said in a panic. Her heavy limbs did not cooperate as she tried to get up. "She won't listen to him. I shouldn't have come here." Her voice clenched in distress. "I made a horrible mistake! I should have gone to her. Straight to her." She wasted precious time. She started to come undone, spiraling with all the scenarios in her head. The burden of knowing too much.

"We'll be right behind him." A voice collected in calm said with authority from right behind her. She did not turn her head.

"Go." The white-haired man said. "I'll stay here with the Gaki."

She was being pulled up and she did not fight it. She looked back into the eyes of Kakashi.

"Come on," Kakashi took her hand. "Let's go bring Sakura home."

She nodded her head. She let him take the lead. Her heart was too much of a mess for her brain to be of any use.

He ran with no a single thought in his mind other than to get to her. That was it. He was aligned. Mind, body, and soul. He had to get to her before any harm came. He needed to get to her. He would think about what to do after he saw her. After he was sure she was safe. He pushed his frame faster than he had ever before. He was riding the wind. He dodged and weaved through the wide eyes of civilians.

He was a blur of yellow and white. He did not slow his speed at all. He cleared the gate. He landed in the courtyard. He caught himself from falling only stumbling slightly. It was quiet. So quiet that he was barely able to hear anything over the sound of his heart beating in his chest. He scanned the surroundings. The structure of the shop and rooms were to his left. To his right were the large tulip magnolia trees. The large, oval green leaves covered every inch of the branches. Not even the sunlight came through it anymore. He was surrounded by shade.

He turned his head to the left with every intention to check the door. He even bent down to grab a rock to break the window if the door was locked. It was not until he had taken no less than three steps that his ears picked up something to his right. He looked over his shoulder. The door to the shed was closed. He narrowed his eyes. There was something different. Something was missing. He worked out just what in less than a couple of seconds. He dropped the rock and moved to close the distance. He was weaponless. In his haste, he came empty-handed but that was fine. He was not worried. His bare hands were enough. Once he got her out and away from him. He would show the Sensei no mercy. Just like the man had not shown Sakura any when ruining her life.

He grabbed the doors and pulled them open without hesitation. His heart stopped at the all-to-familiar scent that rose up to his nose. Simply knowing that she was there and with that smell was almost enough to have his knees buckle. His eyes were wild as they tried to make sense of what was presented in front of him in the dimmer light of the four lanterns glow. He swallowed thickly. His whole body felt foreign and much too heavy. Something wet saturated his sandals. He looked down. It was blood. And a lot of it. The crimson river, thicker than water, had reached him. There was too much of it for the ground to drink in. his throat closed up. The body on the ground was face down. Pale skin against the dark earth. Pants around his ankles. His mind moved quickly through scenarios. His fury had reached a level he had not experienced before. Minato could make out the lone gash on his neck. He had bled out quickly. Less than half a minute. The Bastard got off way too easy. He would have taken his time with the Sensei. He would have made him meet his end nice and slow. Begging for death. She was merciful, even in this. She was his concern. Kabuto was not his concern beyond his death. That was it.

Minato's stomach sank; he prayed that he was not too late. He moved into the shed. His feet landed noisily. The blood squished under his wooden sandals. He had tunnel vision. He was not seeing his surroundings clearly. He searched desperately for pink. He did not see any signs of her. He would have called out to her but his mind and tongue were not cooperating. His heart stammered against his ribcage painfully. He ignored the thought that he was too late. That she was gone. He had to keep upright. He had to keep going.

Minato stepped over the body of the Sensei. He did not see her. A sound he could not ever hope to label or interpret left his throat. A wave of dread, of morbid thoughts, swelled inside of him. Leaving him completely without any fight left in him. Without hope. Minato closed his eyes for two reasons: the first, the act prevented him from spiraling in his despair even further and the second, it allowed him to reset and focus on what was left of his composure. He clutched it close. Minato focused on his breathing. And not the fact there was a half-dressed man in the pool of his own blood who only had one thing on his mind.

The sound of something scraping had his navy eyes snapping open. Minato saw the bloodied tip of a dagger right around knee level being pointed at him. An arm stretched out from underneath the narrow desk. The blade had touched the top of the bottom of the desk. He reacted. He crouched down out of reach. There was just enough light from the open door for him to see.

His heart broke when his sapphire eyes landed on a pair of emerald orbs. He would have cried out in relief if the look on her face had not left him gutted. He held up his hands slowly. He could count his breaths. They were that pronounced.

She remained seated with an arm curled around her raised knees. Her back was flush against the wall. Her hair and clothes were in a state of disarray. Her right arm extended toward him. It was covered in blood. Her light gray kimono was saturated in it. Her bloody hand was steady as she held a dagger firmly in her grip. Her eyes were wild.

"Stay back!" She screamed at him all the while pressing up as far as she could against the wall behind her. Her vocal cords stretched to the limit of her range. He did not recognize her voice or her face. "I'll kill you!"

He bit back a whimper that made its way up his throat. She was in pain. His dark eyes scanned her face. It was hard to tell where she began and the blood ended. Her hair was matted in it. He could see some of her face starting to turn purple. She was bruised. Her bottom lip was split open. It had to be painful for her to stretch it to form words. His heart moved up his throat.

"Sakura," he said her name gently.

"Stay back! I'll kill you too!" She held the dagger with two hands now. Her eyes were wide and wild in warning. She stared at him with the lens of terror. Like he was a predator. Like he wanted to hurt her. It was a kick to the throat. "I'll kill you too."

Minato complied. He remained rooted. His hands stayed up. He was very aware of keeping them where she could see them at all times.

"Are you hurt?" He asked her gently. He did not want to startle her but if she was moderately to severely injured then his priority changed from her comfort to getting her out of here as soon as possible. "I can't get to you." The desk was much too narrow and that did not even take into consideration that she was armed. "Can you come out so I can see if you're hurt?"

"I killed him." She said shakily, she pointed the dagger in the vague direction of the body in the shed. Colored in disbelief even as she wore his blood on her hair, skin, and clothes. "I killed him." She whispered harrowingly.

"Sakura," he regarded her with pure heartbreak on his features. "Are you in pain?" He asked desperately. He needed to know. Almost as bad as he needed to know anything in his life. "Sakura, are you hurt?"

Ragged, uneven breathing was his only response.

"I need you to come out from under there." He pleaded. "I need you to come to me. Come to me, Sakura." The thought of ripping the desk away from the wall had momentarily flashed in his mind. But the noise was a deterrent as was the sudden movement. Shizune's warning rang like a bleak prophecy. Just about anything could set her off now.

"I killed him," her bottom lip trembled. She carried on as if she did not hear him. Caught between the reality of what was right now and what had been then. For her, it was not over. "Just like I killed my uncle," a tear broke through her eye. She let out a cold sigh. The dagger shook in her hands. "And my brother and my father." She was complete in her devastation. "I killed them all."

Minato's throat nearly completely closed up at the sight of her pain. He felt moisture in the back of his eyes. It was enough to momentarily obscure his vision.

"Sakura, please." He held out his hand.

"Stay away." Her voice was full of anguish.

"Come to me." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I won't hurt you."

"Stay away, before I kill you too." More tears streamed down her cheeks. "Just like I killed everyone else."

"I'm not scared of you, Sakura." He said firmly. "I know you won't hurt me."

"I killed them." She insisted, shaking her head.

He took one breath and said the words she longed to hear all her life.

"It's not your fault." He held her eyes with his conviction. "You did nothing wrong."

Silence, deafening and consuming, filled the shed. He held his breath afraid that it would change everything if the sound reached her ears. He waited with his heart in his throat and his hope on his sleeve. He waited a lifetime. Her grip around the blade fell lip. Her right arm fell to her side. The dagger rested in her hand harmlessly, loosely. He watched wordlessly as she pressed her thumbnail into the skin of her inner wrist. It took him a moment to understand what she was doing and even longer to figure out why.

"You came," she whispered mostly to herself, practically despondent.

"Sakura," he studied her with real concern. "Of course, I came."

"You came." Even though she told him not to. She pulled her knees closer to her chest.

"Sakura, I'm here," he struggled to keep his voice level. "Come out of there. Please, Sakura." He begged.

The texture in his voice had her raising her eyes to his. His heart skipped a beat in his chest. He saw her, traces of her in the depths of her light eyes, almost the color of a weakly brewed tea. There was barely any green. So faded from a lack of life. She reached for him tentatively, without much confidence or knowledge of her movements. Just acting on pure instinct, powered by her desperation to feel something other than pure terror. The memory of a feeling, of an emotion was her motivation. Her hand came to lay across his. Her eyes widened when it did not pass through him like he was made of just her dreams and air. His fingers curled around her skin, squeezing in a gesture meant to be nothing but reassuring. He was real, the action communicated wordlessly.

A sob had her whole body convulsing. She lurched forward, head bowed. He could not take it anymore. He moved to her without thinking, closing the distance between them. Not caring what became of him for approaching her. He reached for her and pulled her towards him, out from underneath the shelter she had taken. Like a marionette whose strings were cut, the transformation was sudden. She collapsed against him. He cradled the back of her head and she cried into his shoulder. Her tears wet his shirt. And her hair transferred blood to his skin. He did not care. He held her.

"I killed my Otosan," Sakura sobbed. "He saw me." She sounded so broken. "He watched me."

"It's not your fault." He held her close. "You did nothing wrong." He said into her hair. Blood coated his lips like paint.

He closed his eyes and forced his voice to remain calm and composed. That was what she needed from him right now. He would be the steady ground at her feet. Unyielding and unmoving. Stable.

"He killed my Otosan. He saw me." She took in a shaky breath.

"It's not your fault." He breathed. "You did nothing wrong." His arms pulled her closer and she let him. She had gone limp. Completely at his mercy and discretion.

It was a pattern. A newly formed routine. Rocking them gently back and forth. Repeating firmly each time she sobbed that it was not her fault. And that she did nothing wrong.

Shizune stumbled at the sight of them. She would have fallen if Kakashi had not been right there to steady her. Sakura was completely enveloped in his embrace. All she heard were her sobs and sniffles and all she saw was the top of her head. Minato's dark eyes - almost primal in their intensity - said all that needed to be. Her dark eyes moved to the body on the floor. She let out a breath.

"I'll be back," she said when she recovered enough. "Sakura-chan needs new clothes." She walked numbly toward the structure. "And probably bandages too." No doubt that Kabuto had put up a struggle. "I'll be right back, Sakura-chan." She called out over her shoulder. A stifled sob was her only response.

Shizune took a step back. Then another. And another. She nearly fell backward. It was when she was near the side door of the shop, that she doubled over and threw up the contents of her stomach. Her dark lashes were squeezed over her eyes. She tried desperately to get the images out of her mind. The questions that were born from them were not much better. A hand rubbed her back in what was considered a soothing gesture.

Shizune inhaled shakily through her nose. She felt pressure on her shoulder. Her eyes opened. There was a white square cloth in front of her. She took it with an unsteady hand. Shizune wiped the corners of her mouth. She did not move as she waited for another way of nausea to pass her by.

She let Kakashi lead her towards the shop by the elbow. She could still taste her own vomit. She could smell the remnants in her nose. She focused on Sakura. She was her priority. She was the only thing keeping Shizune together. Sakura still had some of her clothes in her old room.

"Come on, Kakashi." She stumbled but he kept her upright. "Let's go get clothes."

Kakashi nodded his head. Shizune was too far gone in her own head to register the action.

He inhaled deeply. The scent of her soap, mixed with her sweat and his blood coupled with the mustiness of the shed almost made him want to gag. But he held her close. She was blinking slowly against his chest. Her fingers curled into his once-white shirt. One stuck out awkwardly. Unnaturally. Her breathing was shallow. Her pink eyelashes fluttered slowly. She was done. She was in shock. It was not surprising to him in the slightest. She had killed someone. It did not matter if it was totally justified in self-defense. This kind of thing stayed with you. She had taken a life and she would remember this day for the rest of hers.

How he longed to be able to take this burden from her. Her soul was permanently altered today. Dirtied by the medic. She would carry this with her forever. And Minato hated him for it. Hated him more than he hated anyone. And that was saying something. He was not the type to hold grudges. But he would resent Yakushi Kabuto until his last breath for what he did to her. For what he intended to do to her.

His hand that was stroking her cheek gently and soothingly stopped. She blinked in response to the loss of contact. He lowered it down to inspect the dagger. He grabbed it from the ground. He cleaned the blood from it on his navy pants before tucking it away into his pocket. His hand returned to her face. Stroking soothing motions. He did not have an angle from his position on the clock - it was on the wall behind him - he could hear it ticking. He would have to move to see the face. But the woman in his arms was in much too fragile of a state to try to move. He has been able to inspect her enough with his hands to know that mercifully most of her injuries were defensive wounds that were superficial. She would heal. She would be fine. It could have been so much worse.

"You're safe." He reminded her for the umpteenth time. "You're safe."

She melted into him even further. His arms and chest were her container. They kept her from spilling out onto the ground, from mixing in with the earth yet again. She was a boneless heap. And he was her skeleton. Her structure. Her frame. Her shield.

"You're safe." He convinced himself of the same. He remained present for her. Even if he knew full well she was not there. Not really. He grounded them both.

She played with the frayed, faded, and worn remnants of fabric around his wrist. Occasionally her fingers would brush against his skin sending rivulets of warmth to his elbow. It reminded him that she was very much alive. It was mindless and repetitive on her part. No different than when she picked at hangnails or drew circles in her arms. It was her way of self-soothing like a baby or a child did. The neglected child in her was what he held. Small, vulnerable, scared, and hurt. But unlike all those other times, she was not alone. And that brought him solace even if it was more for him than for her.

"You're safe, Sakura." He spoke in low, even tones to her. Only her breath, fluttering of eyes, or brush of her fingers was ever her response.

"Everything will be okay, Sakura." He had the weight of the world rested against his chest. He felt each and every one of her breaths against him. It was only after she breathed that he could do the same. One after the other.

His head snapped up to the presence of a solemn face: Shizune. She was as white as the corpse of the Sensei. She waited for him to nod before crossing the threshold. The smile on her face was as fake as any of Kabuto's. He could see the tears in her eyes that she stubbornly kept back. He did not lower his guard completely.

"Sakura-chan," Shizune sat on her knees. She gently touched the woman's shoulder. Sakura flinched and retreated further into Minato. He was her shield from the world. From it all. Shizune raised her eyes to his, looking utterly devastated. "She can't leave looking like this." She said in a voice barely held together.

He nodded his head in understanding. "Sakura," he said her name in the most comfort he could muster in their current conditions. The woman blinked once. "We need to get you cleaned up." Her fingers around his shirt tightened in response. Her eyes were hooded with a thousand-yard stare. "We need to see where you're hurt." He managed to work out his statement without his voice changing despite his heart lurching and his anger rising.

"You could hold her while I do it," Shizune gestured to the pitcher of water and small towels in her hand.

"Would that be alright, Sakura?" He peered at the side of her face. His thumb was still stroking her cheek. He was not even aware that he was still doing that. "Would it be alright if Shizune-san cleaned you up?" Sakura blinked twice. Minato sighed. "Would it be alright if I did it?" She blinked once, slowly.

Shizune put aside the hurt she felt for the sake of Sakura. She dipped the towel in the pitcher before wringing it gently. There was a slight steam coming off of it. She handed the dry end to Minato. The blond with one hand moved her hair from her face and neck, he held it back. And with the other began to move the warm towel in small circles. He was careful not to aggravate her torn cheek or split lip. He could see the beginning of a black eye forming. Her cheekbone was also bruised. One of her eyes was filled with blood. A burst blood vessel. He kept his anger repressed so that his hand was gentle and steady. He handed the now pink towel to Shizune. She brought it to the pitcher to wet once more.

It took thirty minutes to remove most of the blood from her face, neck, and hands. She still had some dried blood under her blunt nails. He used the time to assess the damage more closely. She had a broken finger, her pinky on her right hand. One that would need to be splinted as soon as possible. There was bruising on her neck from where he tried to strangle her. He could see the finger imprints. There was bruising on both her arms. He could not speak to anything else because it was hidden away by her clothing. They would have to wait for Sakura to let Shizune inspect her for a full report.

Her eyelids hovered between half and fully closed. Shizune looked at him almost pleadingly.

"Sakura," he scratched her scalp with his nails. Soothing and reassuring. Reminding her that she was not alone. "You need to get changed." He could carry her out of the shop. He did not care who saw. But the blood on her kimono was alarming, to say the least. That would attract all kinds of questions of a completely different variety. Questions that could wait. Wait until much later.

She must have sensed something in his voice or the shock was starting to wear off but she nodded her head. Minato let out a relieved sound. He turned to look at Shizune. She was already on her feet. Minato pushed them both off the ground. Sakura's head was resting against his collarbone. Her left hand clung to him while she cradled her right on her stomach.

They had just nearly crossed the threshold when she looked up at him in panic. Suddenly she came alive like someone had winded her key. His cobalt eyes regarded her with concern.

"Haruma-chan!" Sakura uttered shakily, her eyes wide and mouth open. She peered at him with desperation.

Understanding filled him. Minato turned around slowly. He ignored Shizune's curious eyes. His eyes searching. Only to turn up empty.

"Shizune-san," the blond addressed the raven-haired woman. "Sakura's notebook is somewhere here. It's small and brown. Can you please help us find it and bring it to her?" His eyes were back on Sakura. His forehead pressed against hers. The pinkette breathed deeply.

Shizune closed her agape mouth. She nodded her head. She searched as much with her hands as she did with her eyes. She nearly cried out when her foot nudged something solid. Kabuto's hand. It took everything for her not to lose control right then and there. She moved to the desk. She pushed aside the scrolls. Her eyes landed on a notebook with its pages open. She recognized Sakura's handwriting.

"Haruma-chan," Sakura repeated, softly.

"Please make sure his picture is in there." Minato translated at the look of confusion on Shizune's face.

She turned her attention back to the notebook. With shaking hands, she flipped through it carefully. A tear landed on the desk when a face that had become blurry came into view. "He's here." Shizune cried out. She closed the book and secured the clasp. She was careful to step over Kabuto fully. She joined them in the sun. Shizune followed behind with hurried steps trying to keep pace with Minato's long strides.

"Gently," Shizune cooed as she guided Sakura's red and tender arm into her sleeve. She had tried her best to ignore the burn scar on her back. The bruising around her ribs and her hip, along with finger marks printed on her skin. Some of them were so deep that his nails had actually cut her skin through her clothes. Sakura fought for her life today. And that made it all the harder to breathe for Shizune.

Shizune had cleaned her off. And took inventory of all the injuries. None of them were more severe than her broken pinky. Sakura showed signs of a mild concussion. All in all, what she saw strictly medically speaking was not all that bad. Nothing was cause for severe alarm.

But Shizune was well aware of what she did not see in Sakura's person. Bruising around her thighs, butt, or breasts. It further told her that what Kabuto had intended to take place did not happen. He did not rape her. She would not have let Minato hold her the way he was, she would not have sought comfort in him, if Kabuto had. And that confirmation brought a modicum of solace to Shizune in what was otherwise a completely brutal last couple of hours.

They were in Sakura's room back in the shop. It was not ideal but they had to make do. But it was convenient. Shizune had everything she needed to make ointments and salves for Sakura's cuts and bruises. The woman had calmed down enough to the point they could peel her off of Minato. But it had taken his firm assurance that he would be on the other side of the door for her to look slightly less uneasy about being away from him. The constant clearing of his throat or shuffling his weight on his feet loudly was for Sakura's benefit. It let her know he was still there. Keeping watch. But that did nothing to stop the pinkette from looking over in the direction of the door every minute or so.

Sakura had nearly descended into another panic attack at the mention of bathing. It had taken Minato's words, touch, and reassurance for her to calm down. It delayed them by at least twenty minutes.

Shizune wanted to shake her. She wanted to chide her. Maybe even slap her. To ask what could have been so important for her to come all by herself to the Sensei's shop. But she now knew the answer. Her notebook. Her brother. He was why she came back. But even Haruma did not explain why she would go into Kabuto's shed. Shizune's eyes softened as she tied Sakura's obi just tight enough to keep everything in place. She would be stiff and sore for a few days. Her hand would take six to eight weeks to heal. The emotional damage was a complete toss-up. It could take less time. It could take more. Time was the only thing that would tell them.

Shizune held the sides of Sakura's face. She kissed her swollen cheek. "I'm so sorry." Tears streamed down her own cheeks. "I'm so sorry."

Sakura blinked at her slowly; not all quite there. Far from lucid.

"Drink, Sakura-chan." Shizune held up a cup for the woman. "Drink, Sakura." Sakura blinked slowly. Shizune tilted her head back as well as the cup until all the contents made their way down Sakura's throat. Shizune angled her head back down. She caught the last remnants of the dark green liquid with the pad of her middle finger.

Shizune brought the index finger of that same hand into the pale yellow mixture in a small glass container. With a careful touch, Shizune applied balm to Sakura's torn lip. Sakura did not register the action just as all the others that had come before. Like a doll, she sat where she was made to sit. Still and quiet. Posed. But unlike a doll, pain awaited her for the punishment the medic dealt.

Shizune wiped away her tears with the inside of her hand as she worked. They needed to get Sakura out of the shop and back to the complex. Before they decided what best to do with the situation that remained in the shed.

The raven-haired woman cleared her throat. "We're decent," Shizune said loud enough to be heard through the door and then some.

There was no delay. He was there like a gale of wind. Sudden and strong. Sitting on his heels. His hands were on the small of Sakura's back and her shoulders. She leaned into his touch. She visibly relaxed at his mere presence. It was involuntary. Sakura had no control over it. Maybe even no knowledge of it. She watched as Minato gently took her into his arms. Shizune rose to her feet shakily. The leather-bound diary was tightly held in her hands. Sakura buried her face into Minato's neck, turning away from the world once more. The pinkette inhaled deeply as if trying to memorize the way he smelled.

Shizune's throat was bone dry as they moved down the hall. She kept her eyes trained on the spot between his shoulders. The tension never let up once. By the time they were back in the courtyard, they were joined by a solemn Kakashi who had yet to say a word. His dark eyes avoided looking at the battered Sakura and the enraged blond. The Hatake moved to open the gate. He had collected the ring of keys from Kabuto's person. Four keys in total. Minato with Sakura firmly in his arms was the first to cross it. Followed by Shizune. Kakashi flanked them. They walked up to the carriage. The driver held open the door. His eyes were downcast as Minato maneuvered the two of them, taking great care that Sakura was not jostled in any way that would aggravate her injuries. Shizune slid in across from the pair, Kakashi next to her. His hand clenched around his katana out of habit. Minato's hand did not stop stroking her face. The short ride into the complex was a quiet one. The loudest sound was Sakura's shallow breathing. Courtesy of the tonic Shizune gave her for her pain.

Mito was the first one to greet them when the doors opened. She was beside herself with worry and dread. Her maroon-colored prayer beads hung from her hand. Her lips never stopped moving, not since her world had stopped spinning the moment Reimi opened up her pomegranate red lips to announce that the Sensei had killed her son-in-law. Her granddaughter's father.

Mito's face was pale and her eyes were full of sorrow. She had aged half a decade in the span of a few hours. At the sight of Sakura, she nearly passed out. Shizune was the one who prevented her from falling in front of all the staff that had gathered. She recovered quickly. She returned her red beads to around her neck before she marched down the hall with a sense of urgency and purpose. Adamant to be the one to show Minato where Sakura's quarters were. Shizune's head felt heavy as she followed Minato's back yet again.

Her fingers twitched when she felt something smooth and warm brush up against her hand. She did not question it. She held out her pinky. An acceptance of the invitation. The Hatake wrapped his hand around hers. Her long sleeves covered the presence of the contact. They did not break contact, not even when Minato lowered Sakura onto her bed and pulled the covers to her chin with such tenderness that it felt like they were intruding on a private moment. The blond might have completely forgotten that there were other people around because for a second Shizune was convinced he was going to press his slightly parted lips on her forehead. The part not covered in angry red blotches that would be an unsightly purple in just a few hours. His eyes were locked on that part of her face. But Mito shoved him roughly out of the way before he could do as much.

Shizune offered a grimace to Kakashi before she stepped into the room just as Minato stepped out. The door closed leaving the two members of the Namikaze House to share a heavy look between them. They still had much work to do and things to take care of.

Mebuki was rendered a hysterical mess at the sight of her unconscious daughter. Sakura had slept through the day and into the next. Her would-be wedding day. Mebuki was pulled from Sakura's room because her wails were not helping anyone. At the stern look and order from her mother, the green-eyed blond was marched in the direction of the baths. Where Tsunade was instructed to do the same. It was only when both women had bathed, changed, and put food in their bellies that Sakura had awoken. Confused, disoriented, and a considerable amount of pain. Only Shizune was allowed in her room from that point on because that seemed to be the only face that did not cause her to spontaneously burst into tears and a fit of hysterics.

That was five days ago. When they first arrived. And Mebuki decided she had enough. She was going to speak to her daughter. Whether Sakura liked it or not. Tough love is what she told herself it was. She knocked on the door with her shoulders set in a firm line. She was not fazed to see Shizune's face. The gatekeeper.

"Obasan," Shizune greeted her impassively. "Sakura-chan is resting."

"I only need a minute." Mebuki's eyes glittered with stubbornness. "You can stay in the room if she needs you to be more comfortable," the sentence was difficult for her to say. "But I need to talk to her. I have some things to say."

Shizune hesitated. She looked over her shoulder at the curled-up back of the pinkette. Her pink hair gathered in a loose braid that coiled around her curved spine.

"It's alright, Oneechan," Sakura said in a small voice calling from inside the dark room.

Shizune stepped back, allowing the woman inside. "Do you need me to stay?" Shizune asked the question to her back.

"I'll be okay."

Shizune nodded. She could hear the small reassuring smile that Sakura had donned on her face in her voice. Shizune walked through the doors, closing them on her way out.

Mebuki's eyes wandered to the tall windows on the tall wall, blocked by tall curtains. The fabric was a soft sea green. It reminded her of Sakura's eyes. She pushed aside all the unpleasant emotions and memories - of her son's passing and her husband's - and walked around the large wooden bed. She grabbed the stool and pulled it closer to the bedside. It was not until she was settled, with her hands on her knees, that she raised her eyes to her daughter's face. She bit her lip to keep from crying out in anguish. Sakura was more bruise than skin. Mebuki's hands clenched to stop herself from reaching out and tracing the purple blotches. Sakura blinked slowly at her. Her eyes were muted under the slight drug-induced gaze of the painkillers she was still on. Each day the dosage was reduced by a fraction with the intention that each day she would get stronger - physically.

"Sakura," Mebuki smiled. It felt unnatural and forced even to her. She reached over to smooth Sakura's hair. The strands were silky and soft. Mebuki could not help but wonder if Sakura's hair had always been this way. She remembered it to be rougher. Almost animal-like in texture as if it were fur.

"Okaasan," Sakura said heavily as if just speaking was a strain for her.

Mebuki lowered her hand to Sakura's, mindful of the splint. "How are you?" She asked out of politeness and lack of knowing what to say.

"I'm alright," Sakura tried to smile but she winced. Her lip reminded her that she was very much limited. "I'm sorry about Otosan."

Mebuki could not stop the tears that her eyes shed. "Me too, Sakura. Me too." She watched in horror as Sakura began to cry. "Oh!" She got up from the stool and hurried to sit at the edge of the bed. "Should I get Oneesan?" She asked in a panic.

Sakura shook her head. Her eyes were squeezed closed. "I'm so sorry."

"Sakura," Mebuki lowered her head down until her forehead was touching Sakura's shoulder. "Sakura. It's my fault. I let him inside. I convinced your Otosan to give him a chance." She said tightly through her tears. "This isn't remotely about you. It's me. I did it."

Sakura continued to shake her head. She opened and closed her mouth but only wet sobs came out.

"Sakura," Mebuki squeezed her shoulder. "I didn't come here to make you upset. I'll leave if you want me to." She waited, ready to have her heartbroken with rejection just like how Sakura must have waited her whole childhood.

"No," Sakura peered at her through her clumped-up eyelashes. "Stay."

"Okay," Mebuki carefully crawled over her. She wrapped her arms around Sakura from behind and held her. "Okay. I'm not going anywhere."

Sakura's hand came to rest over Mebuki's. "I missed you, Okaasan."

"I missed you too, Sakura." She buried her face into her hair. It smelled of flowers. Jasmine. She shook against her. "I wasn't good to you. I was horrible to you."

"Okasaan," Sakura's hand reached back to touch Mebuki's wet face.

"No," Mebuki shook her head. "You listen to me, Sakura." She inhaled deeply. "When I saw you, I was grieving. The loss of my father. The loss of my home. The loss of everything I knew. I was always closer to my father than my mother. I carried guilt with me for being the reason why he died. I shifted that guilt onto you. I resented you."

Mebuki fought back the additional tears, the kind that would dissolve her into a blubbering mess. She needed to keep going before she lost her nerve.

"I was so lonely in Tonkia. I had our father but he was out in the fields all day and because I was pregnant with you, I couldn't even go out there to spend time with him. Another thing I blamed you for."

Life was not what she thought it would be. She was young and sheltered. She thought love would be enough. But the love she had for her husband did not make the pain of losing her whole family easier. It did not numb the pain of having to go without that love.

"I condemned you. I was scared you'd do to me and your father what I did to my parents. I was wrong. I looked at you through the lens of my mistakes and shortcomings. I should have looked at you through Haruma's eyes." He was only a child but he saw the world for how it was. He saw Sakura for who she was.

"I'm not making excuses, Sakura." Mebuki pressed her head against hers. "I was awful. I'm sorry." She inhaled shakily on the verge of falling apart. "Please forgive me, Sakura." Mebuki pleaded. "Please."

Sakura fought to keep her composure. "I forgive you."

Mebuki's expression brightened considerably; she felt like the weight of her guilt was removed from her chest with three little words. "Oh Sakura," Mebuki said breathily. "We'll wait until you're all healed up and we'll go back to Tonika. Just the two of us! We'll start over with the money. We'll fix up the house. We'll buy back the land. We'll be just fine. We can completely start over. Mother and daughter."

"Sakura?" Mebuki frowned. She felt Sakura stiffen in her arms. The pinkette turned slightly, wincing as she came to face her mother.

"I'm not going back to Tonika," Sakura uttered firmly.

"Why not?" Mebuki asked. "Sakura," she touched her daughter's abused face. "We don't have to talk about this now. You've been through quite a shock. Just lay your head down and rest, Dear."

"Okaasan," Sakura looked her dead in the eye. "I'm not going back. Konoha is my home." She said firmly, unrelentingly. "I'm home." She was not leaving it now, not after everything she did to finally get here. She would not be ripped away from it all over again.

Mebuki could not believe her ears. "What did Konoha ever give you other than pain?!" Mebuki asked with building anger. "Sakura, this place is not home for us. We have a home. We can go back to it -"

"I forgive you," Sakura repeated as she spoke over her mother. Her eyes lacked all warmth. "But Okaasan I can't forget. What you put me through. What you let happen to me. Then and now. I can't forget that."

Mebuki's heart was skewered with the arrows of Sakura's words. All she could do was gape. Her green eyes were as wide as her open mouth.

"Can you bring me something?" Sakura asked in a small voice. "The nightstand closest to the door."

Mebuki wordlessly pushed off the bed, her curiosity getting the better of her. She pulled the drawer open.

"There's a glass container in there." Sakura did not lift her head up from her pillow. The price of her mother's silence had been steep. It was one she had to pay. She was still paying for it. She would spend the rest of her life unlearning everything from her childhood; from her period of isolation.

"This?" Mebuki padded back over to the bed, holding the container with a browning liquid. It had separated. She could see the gritty material at the bottom. "What is this?" Mebuki asked with guardedness. She gripped the vial tightly. Her mind jumped to the worst possible conclusion. She was not prepared to let go of it for fear of the answer to her question.

"That," Sakura sighed heavily. "Was what I was willing to do to myself."

"What does that mean?" Mebuki frowned. She could see her distorted reflection in the glass.

"I was willing to make myself barren all to marry the man I thought I owed a debt to."

Mebuki's heart skipped a beat. "But you didn't. You didn't drink it." Mebuki searched her daughter's stoic face desperately. "You didn't drink it, did you? Sakura, answer me!" She demanded despite holding the answer in her hand.

"No," Sakura shook her head.

"Thank Kami. Thank Kami for saving you from making the worst mistake in your life!" Mebuki sighed in pure relief. She threw the vial against the floor. It shattered. Glass - as fine as dust - scattered all around and a brown puddle formed on the wood. It would warp if it was not mopped up soon. Sakura winched at the sound ricocheting off of her ears.

"Sakura," Mebuki pushed her blond bangs from her eyes in agitation. Her mouth moved before her brain had a chance to catch up. "You should have said something! You should have told me! You could have said no at any time! I wouldn't have forced you. I thought you wanted it. You could have said no!" She combatted stubbornly.

"No, Okaasan," Sakura shook her head. "I couldn't. I couldn't say no. No was never an option." No never felt like an option. She tried to explain why she did what she did. Tried to explain how she ended up in that situation. But she did not have the words. They died in her throat. Even if she did, she doubted they would have reached Mebuki's ears to deliver the message she intended to. They would have twisted and malformed in the very air that transported them. Another instance where they failed to communicate. Just as now. Her mother did not understand her any more than Sakura understood how a woman claiming to be a mother could be so horrendous to her own child, to any child.

Mebuki's eyes blazed. "Doing that to yourself is not the answer either! What is wrong with you?" Her shrill voice asked. "Are you insane? Do I need to have your wrists tied to the bed? Do I need to leave you locked in a room where you can't hurt yourself?!" She demanded incredulously. Her face was unfamiliar and harsh. It took Sakura back ten-odd years. "I raised you to be stronger than this! Your father and I raised you to be stronger than this!"

"You didn't raise me! Neither of you raised me!" Sakura snapped heatedly. Her eyes blazed with indignation as her ears burned in disbelief. She did not know in all honesty who was capable of being more delusional between the two of them. Who lived in their head more? She was not sure. Every one of her mother's words was another stab wound in her back. Another very fresh betrayal.

"I raised myself!" She shouted. Her voice was hoarse. Her vocal chords reached pitches they were not used to. It was out in the open. The inconvenient, unstomachable, ugly truth. And it left her exhausted; completely gutted as she expelled nearly a week's worth of rest in one outburst.

Mebuki closed her mouth, completely stunned at the fact that Sakura raised her voice at her. Perhaps more stunned at the volume than the words she knew to be true. It was easier to fixate on how it was said rather than what was said. The reflection in the mirror was not a pleasant one to stare back at.

"I'm sorry." The pinkette tilted her head up. She kept her tears in her red-rimmed eyes. "I shouldn't have yelled." Sakura apologized, covering her face with her hands. Mebuki's eye went to the bulky brown brace on Sakura's last finger on her right hand. It was being held straight against her ring finger.

"I'm sorry." The last apology came out muffled, barely intelligible.

"It's okay," Mebuki said numbly. "It's okay." Her words were colored with disbelief. "It's okay. You didn't mean it. You're not thinking clearly." Mebuki laughed almost nervously. She brought her hands to the sides of her face, giving them something to do. "You're just stressed, emotional. It's understandable after everything. You didn't mean it." Mebuki shook her head slowly. "You just need some rest." She tried to convince herself. "Everything will be clearer once you rest."

"Okaasan," Sakura began with a sniffle. Disappointment settled into Sakura's eyes as her heart broke in her chest. "I've had some time - a lot of time - to think about things. To try to make sense of things. To process," Sakura scratched the base of her throat. The action drew Mebuki's attention to the bruising there. From where his hands had tried to render her unconscious, to make her more agreeable and cooperative to his goal.

"Oh course, Dear," Mebuki calmed down instantly. "Take all the time you need. Anything, I'm here for you, Sakura. I'm here. You don't have to worry about anything now. Your Okaasan is here with you. I won't let anyone hurt you. No one will hurt you ever again."

Sakura swallowed a broken sigh. Mebuki did not understand the irony of her words. Her words were a little too little and much too late. Her mother never comforted her. So Sakura could not realistically hold her inability to do so now against her. But reality was different from perception. What she knew and what was were not one and the same. She was disappointed. Very much so. Enough was enough. Even insanity has its limits. Something had to be different. And It had to be her. Sakura would be different.

A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. Sakura was slow to open her eyes after blinking. Mebuki could see the tension on her face. Her jade-colored eyes were so cold.

"I don't know what the future holds for me. For us." Sakura wiped her eyes, steeled in her resolve as she worked out the words she wished she never had to say. "But I do know that if you want to be in my life, you need to change." Sakura pushed down the heart-sized lump in her throat. "Because if I decide in the future to have children, I would rather tell them I'm an orphan than have you make them feel anything remotely close to what you made me feel. What you make me feel."

Mebuki covered her mouth. The heartbreak on Sakura's face made her own heart shatter.

"Because I'm going to have a family one day. Okaasan." Sakura said with conviction. "I don't know how or when. I don't know what that even looks like. But I am. And I'm going to be theirs and they are going to be mine." She smiled at the thought through the pain in her person.

"I didn't survive what I did to not live my life how I want to. How I deserve to. I'm going to live. It's up to you if you want to be part of that or not. If you want to be part of that family or not. Here in Konoha." Sakura did not give Mebuki a chance to form a response. She turned back around. Her back was now to her mother. The conversation ended as it began.

"Can you please tell Obachan I want to see her?"

Mebuki could only nod her head mutely as she pulled herself away from the bed to walk out the door with a stunned look on her face. The glass crunched under her house slippers as she did so.

"You were everything. You were the pretty sister. You were the smart sister. You were the gifted and ambitious sister. I was nothing. I was nothing but the younger sister!"

Tsunade blinked in a delayed reaction to the visual and auditory stimulus. Mebuki was enraged. Outraged. The accusations were like a riptide. She did not see them coming. The torment in Mebuki's gaze had a firm grip on Tsunade's insides.

"In Konoha, in the Complex, in our parents' eyes, I was just Tsuna's little sister! I lived under the long shadow you cast, Oneesan!" Mebuki screamed with the pain she carried all those years.

"Kizashi was the only one, the only one, who did not see me as anything but Mebuki. In that one conversation, he made me feel like I was a whole person worthy of something. I was enough. He did not compare me to you or anyone else. I was more than enough for him. I was his everything. And I wanted to build a life with that man where I was Mebuki and not Tsunade's younger sister." She swiped at her eyes angrily. Her face was red from her tears and her indignation at the unfairness of it all.

"We all know how that turned out! And look at you, ever the better sister, fixing all my mistakes even with my own daughter!"

"Buki," Tsunade grabbed her by the shoulders. "I didn't realize," she began lamely.

"Of course you didn't!" Mebuki glared at her with an envious fury. "You were too busy being perfect. You are the sun Tsunade, the sun we all revolve around. Even after you left, they still talked about you with affection when they thought I couldn't hear. You were everything and I was nothing."

"Buki, you know that's not true." Tsunade's words left her lips before she had a chance to sanitize them. "Okaasan favored you."

"She was hard on me! Because she knew I wasn't as pretty or capable as you, she gave me extra attention. She was worried that I was a complete failure. You were the favorite. You were the one who was going to make the Senju name as great as it once was."

Tsunade swallowed thickly. She could not argue with the truth and it cut her up inside to see Mebuki like this.

"And now even Sakura, even my own flesh and blood who is half Kizashi, looks to you as if you're everything. Like you can do no wrong. She looks at you the same way Okaasan and Otosan looked at you. And I hate it!" She slapped Tsunade's hands away. Hands that had come towards her to comfort were pushed away by rage.

"Mebuki," the older sister sighed. "There is room for both of us."

"Sakura just told me she hates me!" Mebuki snarled. "You must be so happy!"

"Is that really what she said? Truly? Or is that what you heard?" Tsunade spat out, matching her sister's venom as she completely ignored Mebuki's snide observation. "What did you say to me back in Tonkia? You wanted to take accountability right? You wanted to get better and be better. Now is your chance, Buki. Sakura is still here. Sakura is alive! Nothing is lost. Get out of your own way and be there for her!"

"She called you Kaachan!"

"And she calls you Okaasan," Tsunade said with a sudden calm. "She calls you Okaasan."

Mebuki stilled. "She calls me Okaasan."

"Learn to be okay with it," Tsunade advised almost gently, her expression softened a touch. "It's a start, it's something.

"It's something," Mebuki repeated into the ground. She blinked three times quickly.

Tsunade sighed. She regarded her sister with a solemn expression.

"She wants to see you," Mebuki hugged herself, not looking up from her feet.

"I'm sorry, Mebuki." Tsunade offered her cheap words. They could never carry the weight that was in her heart. They could never accurately articulate how bad she felt about how things turned out.

Mebuki turned on her heel, presenting her back to her sister. She did not move until the sounds of Tsunade's heels were nothing but a distant memory to the walls of the long hallway. Mebuki let out a sob that echoed.

She rested her head against hers. Her arms were around her shoulders. The familiar scent of gardenias and orange blossoms. Sakura inhaled deeply. Her tears had long dried against her cheeks but she had no intention of letting go just yet. No, it was much too soon.

"Thank you, Obachan," Sakura squeezed Tsunade as tight as her arms would allow. "Thank you for everything you did for me. Thank you for everything you do for me."

Tsunade shook her head. Her voice was too weak. It was like pulled sugar. Fragile. Incapable of handling the conditions around her. She could still not get over the extent of Sakura's injuries. The physical reminder of it all. The worst months of her life. The worst months of all their lives.

"You never gave up on me. Even when I gave up on myself." Sakura murmured. Her voice strained with gratitude and emotion. "I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

A low growl left Tsunade's throat. She pushed Sakura away by the shoulders. Her amber eyes narrowed in indignation. She grabbed Sakura by the chin.

"You never have to repay me. That's not how this works, kid. You're mine. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you." Tsunade fossilized her in amber. "You're mine." She repeated, emphasizing the claim, the relationship.

"I'm yours." Sakura smiled through her fresh set of tears. "Thank you, Kaachan."

Tsunade felt something snap in her. She held Sakura's head between her hands. She placed a featherlight kiss on her still bruised, tender forehead before pulling her in for another tight embrace.

"Never keep anything from me again, Sakura," Tsunade said gruffly to cover for her cracking vocal cords. "Never."

"I promise."

"You're not alone in this world. You have me. You have your sister. You have your grandmother." Tsunade said with a ferocity that was pulled from deep inside of her bones. A trio that would protect her with everything they had. "You're not alone."

"I know." Sakura's voice broke with emotion.

The pinkette did not complain that the hug was too tight. Just like Tsunade did not complain that Sakura's tears were wetting her back. But Sakura supposed Tsunade did not complain about the tears because hers were doing very much the same.

A/N: I just want to take a moment to thank you for sharing your thoughts and your reviews. Your reactions are valid and appreciated. The different view points give me a 360 degree view on how things are being interpreted and received. For instance, I am thinking how I may have dragged out Sakura's mental abuse at the hands of Kabuto a little too long for it to be palatable (if there is such a thing). And that is very valid feedback. As is feedback that I made Sakura who is by all account a very intelligent character stupid or at the very least foolish. Which may have been a frustration with how she is portrayed in canon especially when it involves Sasuke and all the stuff she forgave or overlooked (I know it was one of mine).

Thank you so much for not giving up on this story and sticking with it!

TLDR: All in all I just wanted to stress this: please continue to be honest and open when you choose to share your thoughts, opinions, constructive criticism. As it is valued and taken into account. I appreciate it so much :).

Please review. Thank you!