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Covenant
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Synopsis: Four years into the Fourth Shinobi War, Orochimaru offers to turn.
He all but requests Sakura by name to be the contact.
It is, quite clearly, a trap—least of all because he's supposed to be dead.
But what is a losing side to do except take the hand that's offered?
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3. The Pact
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STEPPING AWAY, Sakura fell into a defensive position instantly.
A trap...!
The door behind her sealed shut as the man in the chair stood. Her mind was running a million miles an hour—the air in the room tensed and froze. She retreated until her back skimmed the wall, protecting it from potential attack.
It's a trap!
Which one of these three enemies was most dangerous? The only one she knew was Orochimaru. Who was the cat-masked man supposedly giving orders?
Who did Orochimaru report to? Who would the Sannin report to besides Madara? The Orochimaru she'd known was too proud to take orders from anyone.
And who was the wave-masked man by the chair? He had an above-average mastery over Water Release—a slight counter to her fighting style. That meant he was likely a nukenin from Kiri or a survivor from Ame, which narrowed it down to...thousands of possibilities. If her assumption was right at all.
...There were too many unaccounted-for variables. She didn't know her opponents, didn't know her location, didn't know what traps might be waiting to spring. Considering everything, flight was plainly the safest option. She could probably punch her way through the wall behind her, or the ceiling above...
"Relax, kid," wave-mask said from the corner. Then, "Don't spook her like that."
Orochimaru only grinned at the chiding. Fear spiking again, she pushed her chakra out until it formed a thick barrier across her skin.
The Hokage warned that Naruto would be sent if she got trapped here. They both knew he'd come regardless, even if Tsunade tried to stop him. But Naruto could absolutely not get drawn into an enemy base—into Orochimaru's base, most of all.
She had to get out. She had to. Even if it meant blowing her cover, she'd—
"Seriously, relax. Don't get your chakra all riled," wave-mask repeated.
"It'd be useful to see her in action now," said Orochimaru. "One day she might have to defend herself, after all."
See me in action? Defend myself? With those words, the Sannin didn't sound like he had any intention of letting her slip away. Quieting her thoughts, she summoned chakra scalpels to both hands.
It would be a fight, then.
"We'll have to kill her if she gets caught battling, and they ain't sending another one to use after that. Get your pet snake in line, bossman."
"Pet?" Orochimaru slid icy eyes to the other side of the room. "Don't forget who made you. Do not test me."
Wave-masked man stepped forward with a shrug. "Things are different now, right? Let's go at it and see."
The room sizzled as the two men stared one another down.
Watching the argument, Sakura crouched even lower, as if the traded glares may lop her head clean off her shoulders. Her mind picked back up. Were they allies? Did they both report to the cat-masked man in the middle? Did they all share the same goal? At least for the moment, it seemed the men were more dangerous to each other than to her.
A snake slid out of Orochimaru's cuff onto the ground. It looped around his foot protectively.
"Enough." The unfamiliar male voice held a tone of finality. Cat-mask, who'd been leaning hushed against the operating table the whole time, pushed himself to full height—a few inches taller than the others.
The other two let a beat pass before setting aside the disagreement. Wave-mask flopped back onto the chair with a bored air.
"Put your weapons away," ordered cat-mask. She didn't, but the snake at Orochimaru's feet disappeared with a pop. His voice seemed to drop an octave—"Put them away or I'll send you away."
Sakura hesitated—but, well, she could always re-summon them. The scalpels faded from her hands, though she kept the defensive shield. It wasn't a weapon, was it?
"No need to be so jumpy, medic. We've no desire to harm you today," said Orochimaru. Sakura made a mental note of the today part. "It was just an introduction to the real source. Although the three of us intend to assist the Allies, and you'll report your information as if it came from me, you'll receive the information from this man beside me."
"That was not the agreement you offered," she reiterated. "The Allies agreed to make you a source. They agreed to pardon you. I don't have the authority to agree to three pardons, two of whom I don't know. And I don't have permission to receive information from other sources."
"Aren't you mistaken in your understanding of the agreement? There was no specified name or number attached to who was turning or who would provide information. Information will be provided in exchange for full pardons. No country shall claim ownership over the ninja involved. The Allies assuming those words meant only one person doesn't change that our intention was to encompass the three of us."
Frowning, Sakura assessed Orochimaru's argument, mentally running through the agreement herself. It was true the word ninja was used both in the singular and plural.
How cunning, she thought. Or conniving…
"That you've been sent in compliance with our contact demands indicates you do, in fact, have full authority to act within the agreement as it stands."
Despite the sound logic, the Kage wouldn't be pleased to grant full pardons without knowing first what crimes were getting wiped. Orochimaru's transgressions were vast and cruel—but they were known and worth legal forgiveness if it meant winning the war. The number of people seeking pardons had unexpectedly tripled, however; she had no idea what kinds of crimes the anonymous Akatsuki members committed in the past. She was sure the Kage would fall on the side of Anything for Victory, but how many sins would be swept under the rug for the greater good?
War let anyone get away with murder.
She crossed her arms and regarded the cat-masked man before her. "Who are you, then?"
"Someone important," replied Orochimaru.
Sakura ignored him. "Do you have a name?"
"Of course he does," Orochimaru continued. "But it made things easier to contact the Allies with my name."
"How so?"
Orochimaru only smiled.
"You're near the front of the bingo book." She wavered, "Well, you were. I can't think of many people whose name would hold even less weight than yours."
And that was the truth. Orochimaru had abducted children and experimented on them. He'd founded an entire village to do it. The only redeeming quality to him was the scientific knowledge behind his quest, twisted as it was. There were few shinobi in the world the Kage held more disdain for than Orochimaru. Only those who'd carried out plans of mass murder—like Madara, Tobi, and Hidan—or those who attempted assassination on the Kage themselves, like—
She left the thought abruptly.
"Well, there's no bingo book in war, is there? And the Hokage and I were once quite close. Although, with you being so young," a sly look passed over his face, "you probably didn't know that, right?"
"Mhm, that's right. So, if he's someone important…" She motioned to the chair, at the lazing body. "Then who's that guy?"
"That's no one—"
"I'm second in command around here. You can call me—"
"Enough chatting. Get to the point." Cat-mask said it without effect or volume, yet it fell upon the room like written law.
His voice was unnaturally low. Now that she thought about it, it was apparent a jutsu concealed the true sound.
She should practice that jutsu before their next meeting. It was the only thing currently unconcealed, though she'd tried to speak with a slight western accent. Neither masked man had commented on it yet, so she assumed they didn't know her true self. Whether Orochimaru recognized her voice was irrelevant; it was clear he knew who she was by now.
"Very well," said Orochimaru. "Let's move along to the main event then. We're willing to provide information to the Allies, through you, on how to defeat Madara. The conditions for the Allies were provided in our message—"
"We accept," she interjected.
"—but we require some personal assurances from you, the contact, that will become a smaller agreement between you and my…superior here. Your personal agreement will not bind the Allies, of course."
Her eyes narrowed—A trap. "Nothing about that was included in the agreement, either."
"It's common for a gatherer and a source to make a covenant between them on a personal level." Orochimaru shrugged. "I didn't realize it was necessary to include such a trivial matter."
Sakura considered that. Truthfully, this was far outside her element; she had no clue what was typical in these arrangements. Yes, she was powerful, capable, and intelligent in her own right—but that didn't change the fact she was sent to gather with only a day's worth of training. If that alone didn't prove how desperate the Kage were for a breakthrough…
Regardless of what these traitors asked for, short of demanding she die, Sakura was in no position to refuse. The Allies were in no position to refuse. She had strict orders to get this information—the alternative routes to victory were already explored and exhausted over the past four years.
...It gave her a sick feeling to think: They probably know that...
"What kind of covenant?" she asked.
"The usual covenant of pacts. Loyalty. Silence. Cooperation." Orochimaru held three fingers up. "Perhaps a few other customary pacts."
Those weren't unreasonable pacts. They were all things she'd do without the covenant.
"And how's the covenant made?"
"It's marked by a seal. You'll have one placed on you."
"I'll not have your seal placed on me," she blurted out. Both masked men seemed to shift on their feet. Realizing too late that she might've given too much away, she cleared her throat and slowed her words. "I…I won't take a curse mark, I mean. I've heard that's what you were known for. The Hokage will be angry if I come back with that, but I can probably think of a different method. Give me 'til our next meeting to work something out."
Orochimaru raised his hands in appeasement. "You'll make the covenant with my superior. It'll be the usual seal used in these matters—not a curse mark. He's the real source, as I said."
"...And will your superior be sealed as well, to hold him to the terms?"
"No," cat-masked man—the Superior answered swiftly, voice still too deep. "It'll be forged with a single seal."
Suspicious. Sakura inspected the man's figure, trying to glimpse something identifying. But his posture was formal. His shoulders were squared and broad. Enshrouded in the Akatsuki garb, he could be any shinobi in the world.
"One-way seals aren't covenants. They're fetters. Orochimaru," but her gaze remained on the Superior, "I'm here in good faith. I'll accept your terms. But if I return sealed and find I've been tricked into servitude, the Allies will terminate the agreement immediately. And you will be outed as a traitor to Madara the moment it falls apart."
Wave-mask snickered in the corner. The other Akatsuki turned to Orochimaru, whispering something in his ear. The Sannin shook his head as the inaudible conversation dragged on.
"We'll have mutual seals or we'll have none," Sakura declared after a minute.
Orochimaru, to her surprise, nodded. "Quite reasonable."
Pleased, she glanced expectantly at the Superior, lip turned up in a half-smirk. He was out-voted. After a brief pause—
"...Fine. I'll make a single pact," he agreed.
"But you'll take the full covenant, medic," added Orochimaru.
Her smirk morphed into a scowl. A trap, for sure.
What else could she do, though? She was caged. She needed them more than they needed her. Anyone could be the gatherer provided these men were willing to renegotiate their requirements, but far fewer shinobi would have as high a chance of not dying on the job as Sakura.
"Sure. Whatever. Which pact will you take, then?"
"Doesn't matter." The Superior's fingers tapped against the crook of his arm. "Pick one."
She considered the options. Loyalty seemed risky in these circumstances—if he was completely and utterly loyal, he might be unable to gather the right information. Silence? It'd be a waste to ask for that. If he wanted to keep his head, he'd remain silent without pacting it. Cooperation? But wasn't that the point of his reaching out to provide intelligence in the first place?
The more she thought about which pact was most pragmatic, the more she realized that a covenant likely was standard procedure. In the context of gathering, the pacts that made up such a covenant were relatively straightforward to the situation itself.
Still, it probably needed to be something similar to loyalty, but something that captured more than just loyalty.
"How about devotion?" she suggested.
The wave-masked man actually laughed. "Devotion?"
Her cheeks pinked. "Loyalty is too narrow if it's the only pact at play. Devotion would permit disloyal actions if done for the greater goal. We all have the same goal, after all… Right?"
Orochimaru looked smug. "I think that's very smart."
The Superior bent down to whisper more with the Sannin.
By the time they finished their discussion, Sakura's knees felt stiff. How long was this meeting supposed to last? How long had it been already? Apparently of the same thought, wave-mask released a dramatically loud yawn.
"I'll take it," the Superior acquiesced. "But you'll not take devotion."
"That's fine. What will I take, then?"
"Loyalty, silence, cooperation, and expeditiousness," responded Orochimaru. "Ah, and honesty."
"I can't make a pact of honesty. That's too dangerous for me."
"Mm…" Orochimaru hand found his chin. "How about veracity then? It would apply more to the situation than to your actions and words. We can place it at the end, so it's the least binding."
Honestly speaking, if it were non-negotiable, she would've taken honesty. Push come to shove, she might've even agreed to take a one-way seal if they hadn't bent. It wasn't like she had much leverage in this deal; so she briskly agreed to the terms before they changed their mind.
Although she'd managed to keep a calm head for the most part, by now her nerves were completely frayed.
Sakura was ready to get the promised information and return to base—to safety. "Let's complete the seals and be done with it. What's the jutsu?"
Orochimaru stepped closer. "I'll be casting it. A third party must do it."
No one moved to do anything after that. Surveying the two men standing in front of her, she raised a brow.
"Go on then," she prompted.
"You two need to be touching to place the seals. I suggest grabbing one another at the wrists, but anywhere will work. The seal will be placed wherever the palm touches or a place near the palm if you direct your chakra there."
Sakura peeked down; her sleeveless qipao dress left her wrists uncovered. The seal would have to be somewhere her typical outfit hid—it'd look suspicious if she suddenly changed her base uniform. Her elbows were covered while on assignment, but she rarely wore the protectors in camp.
Ghosting forward, the Superior offered her his newly ungloved hand. He'd pushed his sleeves back to reveal a creamy wrist.
Her eyes roved across it for any clues to his identity. He was pale. The wrist was thick but lithe, fingers long and elegant. Veins slightly rose beneath the skin. He presented his right hand, but his palm lacked the signs of weapon calluses. He either didn't use weapons frequently, used non-physical weapons like her scalpels, or had purposefully presented his non-dominant hand. Or, he specialized in something other than combat. Or, he was fringing his appearance. Or—
Defeated, she sighed and hid a glower. A wrist was clearly not enough to identify a person. She'd barely narrowed the possibilities at all.
"It can't be my wrist. They're always visible, people would see the seal."
"The seal is quite small," Orochimaru assured.
"Even so," said Sakura. "Let me think."
She routinely wore several attires. The qipao, the battle uniform, her doctor's vest. Her chest, belly, and thighs were the only consistently covered areas, and she was certainly not going to lift her clothes for this complete stranger, an indubitable criminal, to leave a seal there.
Her feet were a possibility. But—she'd almost rather die than take her shoes off in front of these men and ask one of them to hold her foot.
"How about my neck?"
Wave-masked man laughed again. The outstretched arm before her twitched.
"No," the Superior shot down immediately. "Somewhere else."
Grabbing his hand, she placed it around the base of her throat anyway. The fingers were hot. His fingertips pressed into her skin as they loosely laid around her neck, pinky and ring finger brushing her collarbone.
She shoved down the blush trying its hardest to bloom. This was better than a foot…but only slightly.
"It's fine," she insisted, gazing up into the black cat mask. "There aren't many other places I'm willing to let you mark."
The sitting man cackled. "Careful bossman, she's underage!"
"Enough," the Superior ground out.
In her opinion, they were uncomfortably close... So much so that her lungs were tight and her bones felt shaky. Nothing in his body language indicated he felt similarly, though. She had to remind herself that—like what the other Akatsuki noted—she was supposed to be a minor. And deducing from his stature, authority, and the other man's comments: the Superior was not.
Ignoring the strange churning of her gut, she wrapped her hand around the wrist that held her neck. "I'm ready."
"Start," instructed the Superior.
Orochimaru began the jutsu. She didn't dare look away from the mask that tilted down towards her—not with his hand lightly gripping her throat.
"Channel to the center of your palm and release," said Orochimaru.
Sakura did so. "Release."
"...Release."
A sharp pain shot into the pin of her neck, where the clavicles met. Rushing sensation sliding through her chakra flow, a foreign mass interlocked itself into her consciousness through a seal she felt form at the spot. It felt...not unfamiliar. Masked. Wary. A shudder raked over her—and the foreign mass suddenly felt enraged.
The hand on her throat stiffened.
"What is this?" came a whisper from above.
The lab's temperature dropped. Her eyes flew open—her face was closer to the cat mask than before, like he was leaning over. She tugged at his arm with her grip on his wrist unsuccessfully. As his clutch tightened further, the lights flickered and dimmed.
"Release her," said Orochimaru calmly.
His hold lessened, though it wasn't removed.
"You knew." The Superior directed it at Orochimaru with an ominous quiet.
Shadows seemed to move across the walls.
"I most certainly did not. She didn't appear fringed even when I examined her. You saw for yourself." After a pause, the Sannin added: "Are you suggesting I'm better at detecting genjutsu than you?"
Wave-mask was out of the chair now, a hand on the mouth of his mask. Orochimaru stood where he'd cast the jutsu, the lightest traces of a grin on his face. And the man squeezing her neck remained still as a statue; not moving to let her go, but not moving to press the life out of her, either.
His fingers constricted again. "Undo it."
"It can't be undone," Orochimaru stated.
"Don't lie to me. Undo it immediately or you'll regret it."
"I'm not lying. It may be possible, but I don't know how. Therefore, as it stands, it can't be undone."
The Superior's hand was shaking. Sakura came to her senses and crushed his wrist with a chakra-infused clench. Cursing, he snatched it away, finally freeing her.
She'd broken bones.
Flattening back into the wall, she pressed a green hand to her neck. No damage.
While her outward demeanor remained steady, inside she was utterly rattled by his abrupt and dramatic change. What was that? What was with this murderous atmosphere? Orochimaru was appraising her with glee while the other two men stood unmoving. Should she flee? Had something gone wrong with the seal?
The ends of soft, short hair brushed against her fingertips as she internally debated. He could've snapped her neck if he truly—
Wait.
Short hair?
Sakura peeked up into—pink. Breath catching, her sights traveled down to too-tight clothes. To the curves of a woman—not a teenager. She grabbed for the transformation jutsu in her mind—
It was gone.
She was compromised.
Swallowing the gasp, Sakura fell into a defensive position again and re-summoned her chakra scalpels.
Wave-masked man sloped forward like he needed a better view. "It—no. It can't be. One of your tricks, snake?"
"No, no tricks," Orochimaru replied easily. "She took a pact of veracity. That pact always starts with the truth."
"You're fucking sly. Fucking sly! I couldn't sense a damn thing! I really thought they'd sent an unconcealed kid…HA!"
"So did I," Orochimaru purred. His eyes glittered, and Sakura just knew he was lying.
"I thought it was risky of them to send in such a rookie, but they actually sent their battle medic? Their head battle medic?! Are they fucking idiots?" He doubled over in laughter, falling back into the chair.
The Superior's head whipped towards the other man and the laughter became choking sounds. Wave-masked man's hands clawed at his throat until he made no sound at all…then he was released, gasping for air.
"Let me go. If you know who I am, then you know who they'll send to recover me," Sakura warned. "And how will you explain to Madara why those people showed up here—when they've been out of battle for years?" It was one thing to be an unknown, seemingly unimportant medic in the middle of an enemy base. It was an entirely other matter to be Sakura Haruno, the Allied medical commander. She had no clue if she could take all three, but she could probably cause enough destruction to escape in the confusion. "Let me leave or I'll force my way out. I can survive a cave-in."
The Superior was only a foot away, staring at her from under his mask. The shadows on the walls were growing. Though his chakra remained masked, his aura was still deadly without it.
Sakura spiked her chakra in response.
"Mask that," he snapped, voice like ice. "And stay." The new seal hummed on her neck and she felt dizzy for a second. The Superior turned to Orochimaru. "Outside. Both of you." He body-flickered out of the room.
Orochimaru didn't look as worried as Sakura thought he should be when his superior smelled of slaughter. "Do make yourself comfortable, Sakura Haruno. We'll be back soon. It should go without saying, but please don't leave this area… I'd hate for someone to see you." Smirking, the Sannin walked out the door.
The other masked man followed. He gave her a clear once-over before shaking his head and closing the door behind him with another chortle.
Panic hit her immediately.
All alone in an enemy base, she was fully compromised and unable to transform because the covenant kept enforcing veracity on her. She tried to form the transformation four times before giving up and huddling in the corner.
It was a trap. She'd gotten trapped. They were either calling over Madara or leaving her to starve in this…cave.
She needed to leave this place immediately. She'd been tricked. She'd been tricked...! Holding back tears, Sakura poked at the seal on the base of her neck. Gatherers probably never made covenants with their sources! She'd let herself fall for the most obvious trickery...
But she wouldn't cry. It wasn't worth it. It wouldn't help. She was capable of getting out of this.
She did whack herself in the head a few times before setting her mind to planning. She was such a fucking idiot…
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By the time the door opened, Sakura had planned a full escape. It included collapsing the cave and summoning Katsuyu to alert Tsunade. Hopefully she'd remain relatively uncrushed in the process. Hundred Healings would keep her alive and make her whole, but it'd be terribly painful to regenerate her entire body.
Cramming into the space between the chair and the corner of the room, she layered a simple genjutsu to hide from anyone not seeking her out and intermittently banged her head against the wall as punishment for this stupidity.
She'd let herself make a covenant…just because Orochimaru said she should! Orochimaru! The man who'd torn apart her team, stirred upheaval in Konoha, the rogue ninja who experimented on children had said, 'Oh—hey—every gatherer covenants themselves with their source,' and she'd barely batted an eye! She let curse seal Orochimaru lay a sealing jutsu on her.
Sakura thrust her head into the wall.
Tsunade was going to disown her as a student.
The Superior walked in, immediately spotting her. She decided in that instant to stop referring to him as such. He was not her superior—he was simply the Source. Orochimaru entered behind him with labored breathing and a devious grin. The third man didn't reappear.
"Get up," the Source demanded. "Your first assignment is to heal him."
She felt a quick bout of dizziness, then the seal hummed again as Orochimaru approached her. Pushing off the ground, she eyed him warily.
From focusing briefly on what was happening within the seal, it was apparent to her that it didn't interfere with free will. She wasn't being forced to obey the order, nor were there signs of a negative consequence if she refused… It was blatantly linked to her neurotransmitters, however. Endorphins and dopamine soaked her brain as she lifted green hands to comply with the request. Another wave of dizziness washed over her when she touched the Sannin's chest.
That was—a bit dangerous. Potentially addictive.
"I don't think he deserves it," she mumbled to no one in particular, despite already scanning him. Three fractured ribs. A punctured lung. Bruised kidney. Broken finger. Abrasions across his back. When she dropped her hands, the hormones cut off immediately. Extremely dangerous. "You'll have to lie down."
"You can't diagnose with him standing up?" asked the Source.
"I can't repair a fractured rib with him standing up. At least not comfortably, for him. Although…" She paused, glaring at Orochimaru. "Actually, let's not lay down."
Before any objections were made, she set to regrowing his bones. Repairing his lung and kidney. She forced his finger into place and readjusted it. Shot cold chakra through his chest to mend the broken skin on his back. Though capable of doing so, she didn't bother numbing the pain. Orochimaru looked pale and sweaty when she left her healing trance a minute later.
With a curled lip she sneered, "All better."
Orochimaru gave a shaky nod and sat in the empty chair, breathing hard. "My thanks."
"You're done?" The Source turned toward Orochimaru, examining him.
"It wasn't much. Went a bit faster since I wanted it to hurt."
The Source remained silent.
She felt his powerful chakra in the seal, yet he managed to keep it masked even there. A blank signature. Molding her own around it, she tried to find a weak point—anything hinting at who he was. But no matter how she prodded it, the concealment remained firm. Not many shinobi had the skill to control how their chakra was passed into another. Far fewer were able to control chakra given to another, like this pool of his now housed in her.
"Who are you?" Sakura inquired.
He didn't answer.
She tried a different route. "...What should I call you, then?"
"Gatherers don't use names."
He slanted against the operating table again, arms crossed. The murderous aura had vanished; he was as calm as he'd been before the sealing, cool indifference hanging about his shoulders. Whatever qualms he'd had when the transformation lifted seemed to have eased during the beating he'd obviously inflicted on Orochimaru.
More likely than not, he'd merely been shocked by her identity. A surprised reaction. He'd thought she was just some random teenager, after all. Anyone would've been startled to see such a high-ranking military official on an infiltration operation like this. Sure, they'd asked for someone Classed 7—but within Konoha division, Sakura was as close to Classed 10 as anyone except the Hokage could be. Even if they'd explicitly named her in the contact request, it was unheard of that someone of her rank and position would actually be sent.
But then…hadn't the specifications almost explicitly asked for her...?
The Source was technically the holder of the agreement, after all. He should've known. Or had Orochimaru crafted the agreement with autonomy? Or maybe they'd chosen wrong, and he actually wanted Ino as the contact.
That thought filled her with dread.
"Were you expecting me?"
"I was expecting a gatherer," answered the Source.
"Me, specifically?"
"Are you a gatherer?" His posture was eased, but it seemed more forced than it had a second ago. Before she could snap at his snide, he added, "When you return, tell the Hokage to ready someone else."
Her heart dropped—he was expecting Ino. "What do you mean?"
"Orochimaru will start researching how to undo the seal so a new contact can resume the agreement."
"It has to be me," she insisted.
"Anyone but you."
She felt her ego flare. "I'm more than capable—"
"Your presence in Madara's base is too huge a liability."
"My transformation is undetectable."
"Is it?" And even without seeing it, Sakura knew his vision swept the length of her unconcealed body.
Her face grew hot with ridicule. "Well it tricked you, didn't it?"
He uncrossed his arms and leaned them back against the table. "You're an unnecessary and avoidable risk. I'm aware of the personnel that would likely comprise your retrieval team. A different contact would endanger the outcome of this agreement far less than you do."
"A different contact would endanger the agreement in other ways. I'm the only one capable of performing that particular transformation jutsu at the moment. Someone else would be compromised immediately."
"There are already other ways in which you specifically compromise this agreement. You'll return and ready a new contact."
"Ino isn't cleared to accept this assignment. I fit the specifications more, anyway. You requested a medic, and I'm the best. I'm the contact, end of story. Take it or leave it. It won't be her."
He paused. "What?"
"Maybe if you amend the specifications, the Hokage can send someone else. Otherwise, it's me."
They analyzed each other.
"Tell your Hokage," the Source seemed to breathe through his teeth, "to send someone else. A gatherer. Or even Shizune, if there's no gatherers to spare."
"She didn't graduate with the Nine Tails."
"What?"
"Are you agreeing to change the terms, then?"
He didn't answer. They stared again for some time, her mind working over the conversation. There was a disconnect somewhere, but...Shizune? Had he gotten her name from Orochimaru? Was he a Konoha nukenin?
The more she thought about it, the more apparent it became that she couldn't let herself be forced off this assignment. The medics who were Classed to take this mission were fewer than 20—all of whom she oversaw and had a personal relationship with. She was best suited for this task and wouldn't send one of her friends here now that she was fully aware of the trap they'd laid.
"I'm the contact," she said. "We sealed it. It's done."
The temperature plummeted again. She had to convince him—Tsunade would send someone else at the first opportunity she got. If the Source demanded Sakura be removed, the Hokage would surely agree instantly. Sakura couldn't push someone else into the lion's den in her place.
"I promise I'll fulfill all the terms. I'll come the second you call for me. But I'm who you get—"
Her words died as he was suddenly mere inches before her.
"Transform," he murmured. "Now."
She felt his permission through the seal. Brain buzzing with hormones, the jutsu didn't fizzle out when she placed it this time. Hair brushed against her elbows. She peered up into his mask—it was further away than it had been seconds before.
The Source grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest. Scan me—it felt like the seal whispered.
Her hand was engulfed in green when the door opened behind her.
"You're being summoned, sir," said a soft voice. "As is Orochimaru."
"We'll be there soon."
"I was told to fetch you quickly. Tobi—"
"Leave." The threat was left unsaid, and the door clicked shut.
She removed her hand from him even faster. "I need to go."
Moving away, the Source glanced toward Orochimaru. The Sannin still had a sweat going.
"...The meeting wasn't supposed to go this long."
She wasn't sure whether he was telling her or Orochimaru.
"Is there a way for me to safely exit?"
There was a quiet hesitancy as the two men eyed one another.
"You should stay until Tobi leaves," said Orochimaru.
Her heart stilled. Sakura focused on the present to stave off the panic. It was a psychology trick she'd learned years ago—focus on the senses and avoid the thoughts. She was in a lab. In a cave. It was damp. A chill in the air touched the skin differently than the winter chill under the sky. It smelled of sulfur and disinfectant. She tried to think of anything except the loud thoughts telling her—
"You're selling me out."
"No." The Source was still looking at Orochimaru even as he addressed her. "Tobi was scheduled to arrive after you were supposed to have left."
"You never meant to fulfill the agreement... You and the snake tricked me."
"I may have tricked you out of your transformation," Orochimaru agreed. "But there's no plan to turn you in. You getting caught here would end us as soon as it ended you. We'd have no explanation for why you're in my personal lab, unhurt and unchained."
"You'll leave as soon as he's gone," said the Source.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Stay calm.
"Take her to your room. The genjutsu should hide her. He'll believe you're keeping a pet healer if not," Orochimaru suggested.
A hand wrapped around her upper arm. She felt a tug at her navel—blinked—and was in another room. A bedroom.
The Source released her and stepped back. "Stay here for now. Don't leave this room," he instructed. She felt the seal respond to the request, releasing hormones when she made no move to leave. "You'll be on your own if you leave. I won't help you if you're caught outside."
"I get it," she growled.
With an almost imperceptible nod, he vanished.
Although she was nervous, there was no reason to fall into hysteria. Orochimaru was right; they stood to lose as much as she did if she was snared in this base. And—the Source made a pact. Far fewer than she had, but he was sealed with devotion to the agreement. It probably wouldn't stop him from betraying her in the end, but it'd at least sway him towards not betraying her if unnecessary.
At the moment, the safest option was to trust the snake she knew rather than risk meeting the one she didn't. If they wanted her caught, there was no reason to seclude her behind the many layers of genjutsu she felt on the other side of the door.
She switched off her brain and explored.
The room was larger than she'd anticipated a room in a cave lair might be. To be fair, however, she'd never spent much time thinking about cave rooms. It was rectangular, with a sleeping mat in the far corner that appeared unbearably uncomfortable and a weapon grinder across from it. A rock desk carved out of the wall was arranged by the bed, with a wooden chair. Above the desk were shelves lined with dozens of books, scrolls, and unused tags.
A carved opening by the entry door led into a small bathroom. No door or covering separated the two spaces. The toilet was safely tucked in a corner, not plainly visible until entering the room. Similarly, the sink was attached to the wall beside the opening. Unless you were near the opening itself, the wall blocked its view. But the shower was in complete eyeline of the bedroom, little more than a shower head affixed to the ceiling, a drain beneath it. The floor curved in, ensuring the water wouldn't escape. It was behind no glass panel—no curtain. It was almost crude.
She turned back to the books. History books, genjutsu books, healing books. She flipped a few open, hoping the Source had written something in them to discern his identity. Finding nothing, she slid the unhelpful tome back into its original spot. The room was so sparse her survey had taken only minutes.
Re-entering the bathroom, Sakura found what she had hoped to: Hung above the sink was a mirror. A small thing, tacked at a height that required toe-standing to inspect her full face.
A teenager gazed back, 15 or 16 at most. Her green eyes stood out as they always did against her pale skin. But the girl's cheekbones were higher, brows thicker. The lips were fuller than her own and the nose slightly straighter. Her bangs swept to the side as she typically wore her own, a deep auburn that fell to her lower back. Her forehead was definitely smaller than usual.
All in all, Sakura thought she was much prettier like this than she was as herself.
And the seal on her neck wasn't there.
Of course it wasn't. The byakugou was hidden in this transformation, too. She wondered what the new one looked like—Orochimaru said it'd be small, and she prayed that was true. Her hand ran over the area it lay, between the clavicles. The masked, foreign chakra stored in it rippled beneath her touch.
Perhaps he was able to keep it masked because he was still nearby.
.
.
When the Source returned hours later, Sakura was strewn across the sleeping mat on her stomach. Calves in the air, resting the top half of her body on her elbows to read Earth Release: Forbidden Jutsu. He still wore the Akatsuki mask and robe. His chakra was still heavily concealed.
But he reeked of blood.
Cagily, Sakura observed how he leaned himself against the wall, favoring his right side. The left shoulder hung lower than the other beneath his clothes, indicating it'd likely been ripped from the socket. He lifted his hand to the mask—then froze as he touched it, head spinning in her direction.
"Welcome back," she said, without any sincerity. "Can I leave now?"
Seeming to come to his senses, his hand fell back to his side. "Not yet."
If she weren't a medic, she wouldn't have noticed the strain in his voice. He walked to the desk and slumped into the chair.
"Has Tobi left?"
The Source took a deep breath and popped his shoulder back into place. Sakura watched with a learned eye—if he continued doing that, his shoulder would become prone to dislocating. It likely already was. She could force the ligaments to regenerate, probably. Well—she definitely could. But why would she offer him such a service?
"Not yet."
Before she even realized, she heard herself scolding, "You shouldn't do that to your shoulder often."
The Source scoffed. "I didn't dislocate it on purpose."
"Obviously."
Silence fell between them.
With a lofty humph, she returned to the book, pretending to flip through the pages. Annoyed and slightly puzzled at why she'd bothered saying anything about the injury. In this situation, however, what she should've felt was afraid. Alone in a room with a strange, anonymous criminal called for more than vexation. But the seal hummed pleasantly and the atmosphere lacked any sense of danger.
It felt…not unknown? Not comfortable, not uncomfortable. Much like any other mission during downtimes, missions she was assigned a team she'd never worked with before.
He sat there just...breathing—and Sakura had no clue if he was staring at her or sleeping.
When she couldn't take the hushed room any longer, she asked the only thing she could think to. "Do you need healing?"
Shoulders tensing, he shifted strangely in the chair. It was evident he had an injury on the side of his torso, somewhere.
His lack of response prompted her to add, "That is part of the agreement, isn't it?"
"...Aa."
"Then, come lay down." She stood, motioning to the mat when he didn't move to occupy the vacancy. "Watching you squirm about in pain over there is driving me mad. Lay down."
After a brief show of reluctance, the Source gently lifted himself from the chair and lowered onto the mat. Kneeling beside him, she scanned. His shoulder was a mess. The entire left ribcage and lung were bruised. His right wrist was crushed—Oh, probably from her. A cut on his arm had the markings of poison, but his chakra seemed to have formed a barrier around it that prevented spreading.
That was ingenious. She'd recommended using a similar technique to the newer medics to stop the spread long enough for someone who could draw the poison out to arrive. That he was using the method suggested he had, at the least, a rudimentary understanding of healing jutsu. Maybe he discussed such topics with Orochimaru.
And—the chakra channels around his eyes were overloaded to the extent they felt fried. Cocking her head, she moved her hands up to hover over the mask.
Her wrists were suddenly in a painful grip.
"What are you doing?" he hissed.
Glaring, she yanked her hands back, placing more distance between them. "Scanning your injuries! Do you want to be healed or not? I'll not be manhandled during the session—let's get that straight right now."
"Stay away from the mask. It stays on, as does the uniform."
"I was checking your eyes. I don't care enough to remove your mask, and I probably don't want to know who you are anyway. You're clearly untrustworthy. The less I know about you, the better!"
"...Stay away from those, too."
"Ugh. Why don't you tell me everywhere that's off-limits so I can avoid any more unsolicited grabbing?" She remained a foot away, regarding him with suspicion.
"Anything under the mask."
"Yeah, I got that one. Anywhere else?"
He paused. "The groin area."
"Disgusting," she muttered, face warming. With green hands, she moved back to his side. "Men everywhere are the same. I'd sooner reveal myself to Tobi than have anything to do with…that."
She thought she heard a chuckle, but more likely, she imagined it. When the examination was finished, she relayed his injuries and outlined how she planned to address them.
"You scanned all that, that quickly?"
"Yeah. I'm scanning people all day. I have been for the past four years—it's just practice." She waved it away. "But since the agreement depends on my healing, I promise to heal you with the utmost care and concentration. It may seem fast, but I assure you it's quality."
With that, she set to work. Warming her chakra, she pulsed it into the Source to numb the areas as she worked. She pulled the poison out first and sealed the wound. Regenerated his shoulder to reinforce it against dislocation, then moved the regeneration to his ribcage and lung. His wrist was a bit difficult to rebuild—there were so many small bones in a wrist, and he'd clearly used it while it was broken.
Three minutes had passed when she finished. She sat back on her heels and gave him a satisfied once-over.
"Are you done?"
"Yep. How do you feel?"
He inhaled deeply, without any sign of struggle. "Feels…fine. I didn't—feel any pain while you worked."
"It's nice, right? Although it can become addictive. If I think you're becoming dependent on it, I'll cut back on its use." When he didn't make to get up, she glanced about his person for signs of more injury. "Is there something I missed?"
"No. It was just…fast."
"It's quality, I promise. Are there not many medics with Madara? Your shoulder looked like it hadn't been healed ever."
He pushed himself into a sitting position, stretching his arms. "There are healers," was all he provided.
Standing, he returned to the desk; she reclaimed the mat that now smelled slightly metallic.
"When can I leave?"
He was silent for a moment. "Tobi plans to stay for at least another day."
Another day? Her stomach dropped—a whole day in an enemy cave? She didn't even know what time it was. There was nothing to do in this room, and the only other occupant was a mystery man who, whoever he was, was an enemy just two days ago.
"They might try to retrieve me if I don't report for that long."
"Hmm…" He tapped a finger on the desk. "Orochimaru will send word. Is there a code to assure them of your safety?"
There was—but she wasn't going to tell him. "No. Anything will do. The Hokage would know if I was dead."
"Through the slug?"
Her brows shot up. How would the Source know that? And deduce it so swiftly?
Because, yes—if she died, her contract with Katsuyu would vanish, and Katsuyu would certainly alert Tsunade immediately. Her contract with the slug was widely known, but only a small portion of the world's shinobi had contracts themselves. Most wouldn't know the details of a summoning agreement—particularly a shared one.
She fished for a way to avoid answering. "You know a lot about summons?"
He didn't even fish—he just straight up didn't answer. As if planning to sleep there, the Source had reclined back in the chair. Sakura studied him again, hard—desperate for a clue to his identity. The robe covered every part of him; gloves and closed sandals covered the rest. The mask was fastened somewhere underneath his hood. It could be Kakashi under there, for all she could tell. Hell, it could be Madara himself. Besides his general frame, there was nothing to extract.
It hit her suddenly. There was one thing, wasn't there?
"You use dojutsu, right?" Sakura made sure not to blink as she watched his response.
It was wildly unhelpful. The Source didn't move or freeze in the slightest. With the hope for something rewarding hastily quelled, she snatched up the book she'd discarded on the ground. Flicked through a few pages with feigned apathy.
"Your eyes seemed strained."
His response was instant. "Aa, I was given a technique through some of Orochimaru's experiments. It is straining. I train it but can't use it in battle very efficiently yet." It was either well-rehearsed, he was a good liar, or it was simply the truth. Without knowing much more about the man, there was no way to choose one option over the others.
Disappointed, Sakura sighed. "I see."
Although the pool was narrowed with that information, it still consisted of thousands. Most dojutsu were extremely rare and available only to bloodlines, but some were attainable for anyone with compatible chakra who trained enough. Albeit often with extreme pain.
She didn't bother trying to continue the conversation, displeased that her one lead fizzled out so speedily.
Though she wasn't sure how, she was sure it wasn't proper. Miles underground in an unknown location, in a barren room with a strange man, on a mat that smelled slightly of dried blood. In the same cave as an enemy general. It went against all protocol and good sense she ought to possess. But the seal felt like it was saying, Go to sleep, and—
Sakura drifted into unconsciousness sometime after that.
Thanks to my (two) reviewers,
tatutu and MagicalReader
Please review and alert~
Thanks for the read :D
and thanks to the story's beta-reader, Leech