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Covenant
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Synopsis: Everyone is dead or hunted. The Allies lost. The war is over.
Treacherous seal marring her neck as a collar, Madara parades her like a victory trophy.
And though he gave her to his patriarch—betrayed her in the worst of ways—
Here, in The End, Sasuke Uchiha is all Sakura has left.
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2:5. Charades
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OROCHIMARU'S BASE was both the same as always and completely different. Or, perhaps she'd always had the wrong idea about this place. Perhaps it was merely where Orochimaru housed his research.
Perhaps it had always been Sasuke's base.
Be it his or not, Sakura was relegated to Sasuke's chambers.
She wasn't kept in handcuffs, but the ankle suppressors remained. Sealed and fit tight, they were impossible to remove with her average, bordering-on-weak, chakra-free strength. Even so, every few hours she'd try her luck at cracking them again, anyway. Besides crumbling into the hedging visions or succumbing to a panic attack over Ino, there was little to do in the bedroom but to whittle away unsuccessfully at her anklets.
Though technically an improvement in her accommodations since having fallen from grace, the problems this particular lodging brought leveled the playing field. Tipped the scales, in fact.
It was still a simple rectangular bedroom, with a sleeping mat in the far corner that appeared unbearably uncomfortable by itself and a weapon grinder across from it. A rock desk carved out of the wall still kept the bed company, with the same wooden chair beneath it. Above the desk were shelves lined with dozens of books, scrolls, and unused tags. Reading material she couldn't bring herself to touch when it was all related to chakra she'd lost the ability to wield.
A carved opening by the entry door led into a small bathroom, with the toilet safely tucked in a corner, not plainly visible until entering the room. The sink remained attached to the wall beside the opening. That crude showerhead affixed to the ceiling mocked her in full display.
But her scratched wall flowers were left unblemished, in full bloom. A weapon rack hung on the wall between the mats, empty. Laid over the old sleeping mat was a new padded cushion that improved the quality of sleep provided by a wide margin. The grinder had been shoved closer to the door to make room for a second sleeping mat in the opposite corner of the room—the thin, flimsy kind that hid under her cushion. A sleeping mat that occasionally served the worst man alive when he deigned her with his mute and brisk presence.
The same and yet…different.
He'd said barely five sentences to her since they'd left Earth Country. She hadn't bothered speaking much more than that to him—not even to thank him for the healing. She'd passed out before he finished, and he hadn't created any openings afterward for her to voice appreciation without looking like a fool.
And she did appreciate it. Though it'd be the absolute bare minimum in a normal context, within their current positions, he wasn't under any obligation to treat her decently. As his prisoner, he didn't even have to view her as a human being.
Unless accompanied by Sasuke, Suigetsu, or Orochimaru, she was confined to the bedroom. Like the suppressors, she tested the locked door every few hours anyway.
Not that she had anywhere to go if it magically opened.
The day after she arrived, Suigetsu candidly told her that he'd taken Ino to a different base. A smaller one nearby, designed to keep prisoners.
Until Sakura thought of a way to get Ino here, she'd need to stay here, too. Escaping this base was one matter. Escaping this base, finding and breaking into a second base, and then escaping that one—likely without chakra—was unrealistic.
So, for the time being, there were no secret schemes being schemed to sneak out. She was obedient.
She was losing it.
She was lonely.
She was more often than not alone—left to battle with her own mind. Though unlike her time in the cell, she couldn't sleep all day to escape herself here. When she tried, she'd lay awake on her mat for hours, listlessly praying to think of nothing.
If she tried too hard, she'd throw herself into a medical crypt, surrounded by ever-increasing corpses. Retching on their hellish stench.
After a few days, however, Sakura began to suspect they were lacing her food with a calmative. Her thoughts felt increasingly flighty. Foggy, even. Ghosts struggled to haze into form. Friends visited less frequently. Her dreams were less violent—less painful. Colorless. Shallow.
It was too similar to how she'd spent her time in Kumo base to be anything else.
She didn't really mind. If she had to stay alive for now, better that she live like this than constantly plagued by ghouls with accusatory eyes and endless battlefields she couldn't escape.
If it wasn't one of her three primary handlers, people in plain grey clothes, who she could only describe as servants, brought her meals. She'd seen similarly outfitted people on Madara's base in the Land of Tea. They refused to speak to her, despite her trying every visit.
Without adequate chakra to asses them, it was impossible to know with any certainty if these strangers were shinobi. If she had to guess, however: They were civilians.
Their steps were too loud. Their movements too clumsy. No metal wrapped round their wrists or ankles to keep their strength in check. She wasn't sure what they were doing in a shinobi military base.
But the way some of the women caught her eye as they placed her food on the desk told Sakura they knew exactly why she was there. And she started to think that, maybe, they'd found themselves trapped here for the same kind of reasons.
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"Madara believes that Hundred Healings is the answer to this problem," Orochimaru said as he sliced apart a white, fat-looking blob laced with dark blue tendrils on the operating table.
From the single chair in the corner, Sakura stared at Orochimaru's back, not bothering to answer.
In the three times he'd now brought her into his lab since her transfer back to the familiar Kiri base, most of their time together consisted of him talking at her—whether she replied or not. When she did respond, she found herself twisted up in his wordplay, left with more questions than answers. Wondering what it was the man was trying not to say; wondering if he was saying anything at all.
Then she'd remember that it didn't even matter, and the welcomed numbness of medication would swamp back in.
Despite her pointed silence, he explained his actions as he worked and detailed what he thought the issues might be. Behavior that he'd briefly taken to when she was concealed and undercover. The one-sided discussion would've excited her to no end just two months ago.
Orochimaru had yet to make a breakthrough with Hashirama's cells, at least on Madara's behalf.
The Sannin claimed that after a year, Sasuke's body had mostly accepted the transplant. Madara was past five, and his condition was only worsening. No drastic differences between the two Uchiha's many lab results existed to explain the discrepancy.
A true mystery. Something Sakura would've truly loved solving.
That was in the past, now.
Orochimaru hypothesized that it might be novel incompatibilities between blood types. Maybe it was a side-effect of Reanimation or the difference in the ages of the bodies. Could've had something to do with the amount of cells merged together or their initial placement. Even speculated that Hashirama's cells may never accept Madara. That maybe cells somehow forever retained the feelings of the person they once belonged to.
If Sakura believed in the Gods anymore, she would've bet on his last speculation. If the Gods existed, they were cruel beings. They most certainly would've found great pleasure in never allowing mortal things to settle.
It was unmistakable that Orochimaru wanted her input on Madara's issue. His baiting was blatant. It'd taken less than ten minutes into her first trip back to his lab to deduce what he'd brought her for. That the intellectual prodigy of his time thought she might be able to answer his problem was flattering enough, she supposed.
And precisely because she knew of the Sannin's genius, Sakura couldn't find it in herself to think him stupid enough to believe she'd ever help him fix his master. So she had no earthly clue what possessed him to continuously try coaxing thoughts from her on the matter. Further, if he or Madara thought she'd ever, in a hundred years, use the byakugou to keep Madara alive—they were certifiably insane.
"That glowing technique of yours was a pain for him in battle, there in the end. You were getting too proficient too quickly. Intelligence also speculated that your chakra reserves somehow replenish much faster than the average medic. A tricky thing to counter."
The words startled her out of her thoughts and into a surprised, "Huh?"
"It's rare to find fighters who respect other forms of battle. For his prowess, Madara surprisingly never lost sight of the great value medical jutsu has on the winds of war."
"Oh." He was probably talking just to hear himself, again. "Uh huh."
"I imagine that's partly why he pushed that last offensive so strong. A medical jutsu that can revive an entire battlefield in seconds…" Orochimaru clicked his tongue. "Not something anyone wants to plan on battling long-term. Not even the greatest Uchiha to ever live."
Sakura turned that information over in her mind. The premise itself sounded logical, but it felt more wheedling than honest. It was an amazing jutsu—with that much, she agreed. But so much so that it worried Madara?
Unlikely.
"I only used it in Fire, though. One battle. And once when we were retreating out of Wind." And I took great care to hide its use in the skirmishes in Lightning, she thought. In such small fights, it wouldn't have been evident enough for those who might've escaped to notice. "It wasn't on his radar like that. I used it so little."
The knife stilled its work. "Two battles, isn't it? In Fire, and last summer in Earth." Sakura's breath caught on the memory as a wound, fresh as the first day it sliced her, tore itself open again somewhere deep in her chest. He pushed the metal tool down into the mass slowly and continued. "Those reports the first time were striking. Our shinobi said it was like a rising of the dead, the way fallen Allies were pushing themselves out of the corpses piled on the ground. Not much visual coverage in Earth either." Orochimaru chuckled. "Imagine the sight it must've been. Zombies for miles. Sasuke said it was the most chilling thing he'd seen in the war. Wish I could've seen it myself."
She didn't want to think about that battle. Didn't want to deepen the festering cut any further. Wouldn't reminisce with Orochimaru over the sacrifices that had bought the short-lived Allied victory that day.
"Are you saying we lost the war because I created a new technique?" she hissed, trying to hide how her bones shook under a thick pseudo-anger tone.
"My, my. How self-centered you are, Sakura Haruno. No one thing wins or loses a war."
Real anger now flowering, her mouth opened on a retort—then snapped shut as she closed her eyes and sighed. Once again, she'd chomped on the hook and gotten reeled into his games. A stilted hush fell back upon the room, interjected with the sound of metal on meat.
It doesn't matter anymore, she thought. It's all over anyway.
Unsurprisingly, Orochimaru wasn't ready to let his catch go so fast. "I did warn you not to let them get too dependent on your power."
"Two times isn't—" Scowling, she caught herself. It doesn't matter. "Whatever. I don't care. It's done now."
The mass he worked on was now six separate masses of identical size. They moved up and down at different intervals, unsettling her in the same way it had the first time she'd seen the strange breathing-like movement.
"Even once is enough with a technique like that. You forget my team and I were heroes in a war that lasted longer than this one. And we were never graced with over a year without a battle." The knife tinked onto the metal tray beside him as he swapped it for tweezers. "I'm far more acquainted with matters of war than anyone in your generation."
"Good for you."
"I can only imagine the terror Tsunade must've felt when you released something so useful that publicly."
The sudden memory of Tenten's graveyard paled compared to how her shishou's name hit her ears viscerally, clearing the fog of her mind like a gale. Sakura's sight immediately blurred with hot tears. Her lungs froze on a gasp. Her fingers gripped the fabric of the armrests.
In front of her was Tsunade on her hands and knees. Palms staked onto the rock floor, gazing up with an unreadable expression.
You did this.
Jumping back in the chair so hard it knocked into the shelves behind her, Sakura heard her own scream as if it came from another's lips.
You did this, Tsunade repeated, blood trailing from her mouth. Ino was in the corner of the room, chained to the floor by her neck, bruised and swollen and naked. You did this, said Sai, strapped to the operating table beneath Orochimaru's tweezers. His chest flayed meat and muscle. Under the table was Naruto. Naruto—whole—unblemished orange jumpsuit—perfect in every way, untouched by the war—but limp and lifeless and not breathing and soaked in Sai's blood gushing down upon him from above and—
"Calm down!"
She wanted to die. She deserved to die. She'd done this. She hadn't done anything, hadn't saved anyone—everyone she loved was dead, the ones alive would soon die—
"Stop screaming and breathe, Sakura!"
The seal burned with the strength of the order, but her brain was locked in a deep, dark cage. Blood was filling the room. It soaked from the walls, bubbled from the floor. Rained from the ceiling, painting them all crimson. It fell into her mouth, choking her. There was no washing this off—
Abruptly, red was inky black. She stumbled in the abyss, teetering forward and not moving in the same step. Surprised, the scream died in her throat as she blinked back tears.
Sasuke stood before her, dojutsu spinning. Watching her like he thought she might run. Sakura stepped away from him in shock, though the distance between them remained the same. It'd been months since she'd experienced the weightless feeling of this space.
He'd pulled them into the seal.
She hadn't seen him in two days. His taut figure suddenly feet away was startling.
"Why are you here?"
"You were panicking." Red dimmed to onyx. "Did Orochimaru do something?"
With a shake of her head, Sakura looked away before her faltering mind fixated on how near Sasuke was. How the neckline of the grey shirt he wore dipped down his chest. On the veins lining his crossed arms. On how easily she could read into his words meaning that wasn't there.
"Don't act like you care," she told him and reminded herself. Her gaze landed on a strange brown box in the corner of the space. It wasn't something she remembered ever seeing here before. Nodding towards it, she asked, "What's that? Why are you making it appear here?"
"You need to keep it together. There's too many eyes on base when you're outside of our room. Even Orochimaru shouldn't see something like this again." The seriousness of his tone forced her to slide her attention back to him with a raised brow. "If they think you're breaking, things will only worsen."
She scowled. "How could things possibly get worse for me? I'm a prisoner of my enemy and stuck sealed to you."
"It could be much worse, Sakura. Trust me."
They held each other's stares. His annoyance was palpable in the air around them. The urge to fight with him reared up, engulfing all other emotions within her.
"Say it straight," she demanded. "You don't care about it getting worse, you only care that I don't lose my mind enough that something bad for you slips out."
"...That's right." Sasuke sneered as the feeling in the air pulsed. "Is that what you want to hear? Your information could lead Madara to someone who might know my connection with the Allies. It's best for me if you don't say anything."
"You're such a bastard. It's almost worth giving something up if I knew Madara might find that person who would sell you out."
"Aren't you tired of threatening me with that? We both know you won't let an Ally die just to condemn me."
"Wanna bet?"
He shifted on his feet and the murky blackness dipped in temperature. Sakura smiled in victory—she'd angered him. Good, she thought loudly, letting it sound itself in the space for him to hear. Be worried. Feel scared. Get even angrier. I hope you never feel content for the rest of your life.
A beat passed as the thought faded from the air.
Then, with a slight roll of his eyes, Sasuke sighed. "Alright. I'm done with this. Your way isn't working, so let's just have it out."
She blinked. "What the hell does that even mean?"
"Go on. Say why you're angry with me," he said, waving his hand in her direction.
"Angry?" Sakura scoffed. "You think I'm merely angry with you?"
"It's my fault you're here, right? I hear you thinking it so often I wonder if you have any other thoughts."
"Oh fuck off! Of course it's your fucking fault, Sasuke!" she shouted, pointing at him. "I trusted you. You made me trust you. We spent months working together! You told me you wanted the Allies to win, only to betray us in the end! You killed Tsunade. How could you do that? HOW? You even let your psychopath undead uncle kill Naruto. Naruto! Everyone else is one thing, but Naruto?! Who never once gave up on you, you fucking bastard! All this time, he thought of you as his brother. You abandoned the Allies when it mattered. You abandoned Naruto. You abandoned me. You lied. You're a lying piece of shit!"
"I abandoned you?"
She hated him. Hated how snarkily he threw that question at her, hated how he disregarded everything else she'd said. Hated that there weren't words to describe how much she truly hated him.
"You let us get attacked without warning! You murdered the Hokage! Tsunade was like a mother to me, you fucking—"
"Think about the situation. Who's here with you and who isn't? Who really abandoned you?"
"Don't bring Ino into this—"
"I'm not talking about Ino." His gaze was heavy and unwavering; he seemed closer to her than he'd started.
But she was no closer to understanding his point. "Just say what the hell you're trying to dance around. Just admit that you never wanted the Allies to win. Admit you played us. You always wanted to punish Konoha—you used me and the agreement. You let the Allies get caught on purpose!"
"Sakura, can you just—" Sasuke's lips pursed on the unfinished thought as he sighed again. His eyes were narrowed in what looked like a glare but landed on her more like frustration.
"You wanted us to lose. You let Naruto die. You let me get caught. Say it. Be a man and admit what you did."
"No. The Allies lost because they had five different leaders and no cohesion. Naruto got caught, and then you decided to get caught with him. You all did that to yourselves."
"Well you know what? I'd get caught with him again! A hundred more times, even. There'd never be a time when I don't go to Naruto. Friends don't abandon friends. Those who do are worse than scum—like you."
"And faced with that scenario a hundred times, I'd kill Tsunade again in every one," he said smoothly.
She felt sick. "I can't believe I loved such a horrific man for so long."
"I never thought that you should've in the first place." Rubbing his temple, he finally looked away—towards the box still sitting there in the corner without explanation. "As long as we're sealed, Madara will keep us together. I'm no happier about it than you are, and I'd rather things not be needlessly worse so long as we have to do this. It'll be bad enough as it is. Okay?"
She'd forgotten how rich the tone of his voice was when he got going. It'd been a while since she heard him talk so much at once. Maybe not since Uzushiogakure.
Remembering that place birthed unbidden butterflies in her stomach, replacing the nauseous disgust.
One thought. It was that easy. One, and her body fell back into old habits. Instantly forgot the past two months. With one thought, she betrayed herself so quickly.
Here he was, telling her he thought her love had always been misguided and untoward; saying he'd kill her mentor a second time. Awful things from an awful man. And yet—here she was, letting his voice take her back to a ruined island. To a place that might never have held an ounce of honesty.
It was disgusting.
She didn't love him anymore. She certainly didn't care, and he'd surely never deserved it.
Grimacing, Sakura lowered her head and cleared her mind. "...Just say what you want to say. You and your mentor are so annoying with the way you talk about things."
"We need to be cordial. We need to cooperate."
"Pfft. Like hell I will. With you?"
"I don't care if you hate me. I don't care if you wish me dead—but what's bad for you is bad for me, and vice versa. We need to work together, or we'll both wind up killed."
"It's like you aren't even paying attention." Not that you ever paid any attention to me, she thought. "I want to die, Sasuke. And just so you know, I no longer care if you die, either. So—pass."
"You're really…" His hand fell away from his face. "Listen. If you die, Ino loses her value. Her reality will be worse than hell if she isn't killed immediately. If you won't cooperate because I'm asking, then cooperate because she can't afford you dying."
Opting not to respond, she looked at her feet. There wasn't anything she could say—it was true. Ino's fate here was directly linked to her own fate; and her fate was linked to Sasuke's. That tied Ino's life to Sasuke's. So whether Sakura liked it or not, if he asked it of her, she'd have to be civil with him until Ino escaped.
Sasuke appeared to sense her giving up the argument. "Your interrogations start soon. Potentially this week. As a showing of good faith, I'll do what I can to help you with the pain."
"How sweet of you," she intoned.
"Prepare yourself," he went on, ignoring her comment. "You have to keep it together. I can't do anything to help Ino, and if you start leaking information because they're hurting her, it'll get more lethal for the both of you."
"Ino will be there?"
"Yes."
"They're interrogating her too?"
"They'll use her in your interrogation."
"What do you mean?" Sakura whispered, needing to know and not wanting to hear it all the same.
Sasuke hesitated for only a second. "Just like in Earth. The interrogators will punish her in front of you for disobedience."
The answer swept over her as a winter storm.
Clasping her hands behind her back to hide their trembling, she blinked back hot water. "And you want me to stay quiet while that happens? So you don't get found out."
"You must stay quiet. Yes."
The weight of those words felt unbearable. She was so powerless. So useless.
Her best friend would hurt for her, and she couldn't do anything to stop it. Couldn't do anything to change it. Couldn't do anything.
She couldn't do anything. She'd never done anything. Ever since the war started, she'd failed. Thousands were dead because she hadn't been good enough. Thousands more had lost loved ones because she'd never been strong enough. A grim reaper hidden behind the mask of a healer.
A compulsory apostate who'd played with choices only their maker should decide. Everyone she loved had borne God's wrath for what she'd done.
Her breath hitched. I can't do this. Gut bottoming out, she almost gagged. I—I'm done. I can't.
Before it could be swallowed, an infuriated shriek tore from her chest. Tears broke over the dam and leaked down her cheeks as she sunk to her knees. She couldn't do this. She hated the man here with her—hated him for what he'd done. For what he was still doing. For what he would make her do in the future—for his sake.
But she hated herself more for what she couldn't do; what she'd failed to do from the beginning.
She hated everything.
The half scream, half sob ripped her throat and she covered her ears, shaking.
There was so much anger—so much rage inside, with nowhere to go. So much grief and guilt she'd never have the peace to deal with. Too much emotion to hold within herself. An endless nightmare to live through every morning. A creeping insanity leaching through her mind every night. No matter how many drugs they fed her, this twisted misery wouldn't ever go away.
She could do nothing. Nothing.
A calloused hand shut over her mouth. "Calm down. It hurts my head when you're this loud with the seal."
Sakura didn't move away nor push him off. She couldn't even do that before the seal's effect took hold.
Their new proximity bathed her in heat. His skin stilled the growing desolation in her chest. The abyss around them vibrated. She hated him. Hated how treacherously her body responded. Hated that the seal made him feel so good. Her tears rivered over his knuckles.
Defeated, she let herself settle for what he offered. Focused on his fingers on her cheeks and his breath on the crown of her head. Allowed those things to push back the madness.
"I wish you would've killed me instead of Tsunade," she shakily muttered into his palm minutes later. "Even if you hated me all along, Sasuke…giving me to Madara was too cruel."
His hand lifted from her mouth and swiftly found the space between her shoulder blades, pulling her face into his chest. Stunned, she inhaled hemlock and travel-fire smoke, processing these new events as if it were happening to a stranger.
"It wasn't about giving you to Madara."
His words made no sense, but how his chest rumbled against her cheek as he spoke breathed confidence back into the Gods.
He was so warm. So right. She could stay like this forever. Here, there was no blood or cries of pain. No torture to face or dead friends to confront. No worthlessness to drown in. No one could touch her while Sasuke shielded around her. Nothing in the world mattered except the two of them in this moment, where he gave her a lifeline.
A lifeline he'd made necessary.
It was whiplash dealing with the seal's influence. One moment she hoped he'd disappear forever—the next she was sure she'd disappear if he ever left.
"Sometimes I'm still there," she whispered, letting the confession tumble out of her. "I'm still on that field. I see you over Tsunade every time I close my eyes. I hear people screaming as they're slaughtered in chains. I remember how lifeless Naruto felt when I touched him. I have to watch Ino get stabbed in Tsunade's blood anytime it's too quiet for too long. So many people died. People that I should've saved. It was my job to make sure they didn't die. They all trusted me. I didn't want to leave that field, Sasuke! You should've killed me, not Tsunade!"
His hand slid up her back, up through her hair, then smoothed it back into place as it settled on the top of her head. "I know."
"You should've let me die. You should've—I'm so tired—" A sob wracked her.
The way his fingers tensed on her scalp suddenly made her want to throw up. What was she doing? Letting him this close after everything he'd done. Letting him manipulate her into trusting him—into thinking he wasn't a fucking bastard.
She lurched back, out of his hold.
"No. Stop. Stop doing this! First you're ignoring me, then you're insulting me. Now you're pretending to comfort me. I don't understand you, Sasuke. I don't understand and I don't want to understand. I wish that you'd never offered the agreement. I wish we'd never met again." She stared at the invisible floor, feeling nothing. Empty. Like wildfire had blazed through a dry field and she was the ash that remained. "I think it would've been better if you'd just died like we thought."
The nothingness that swallowed them bobbed in sudden, unfitting amusement.
"I'll help get Ino out."
Her head swung up to look at him. It was so out of place. So random. Utterly unrelated to the abhorrent things she'd just declared.
"...What?"
Still kneeling before her, right eye red again, he studied her. "Keep yourself together, and in the meantime I'll work on a plan."
"I—wait, what? Why? You're saying—you'll release her?"
"I can try. Give me some time. That also means you get through the interrogations without cracking, no matter what happens."
"And you expect me to trust you? If it's about me not endangering you, I already get it...you don't have to make up something about helping Ino to influence me further."
"You don't have to trust me, though I'm trusting you not to give up every secret while I try." His sight roved down her jaw. Over her shoulders—across her waist and legs. "This is how we can start cooperating."
She couldn't help it: She gaped at him. What the hell is going on?—rang through the darkness, loud and confused. What was his angle? What was he playing at? He'd come at her with so many different strategies in the short span they'd been confined within the seal—Sakura couldn't begin to guess which of Sasuke's charades was the truth.
Why would he help Ino? Did he think helping her friend would make her more compliant? Was he hoping to gain a favor to use in the future? Was he worried she'd eventually give up Allied information after seeing Ino tortured too far?
This strategy—the one of pretending to be her ally—seemed the least sincere of them all. It didn't make any sense, in any context.
"I really don't understand you," she said slowly, eyes moving between both of his, hoping to catch a tell. "You wanted every Konoha shinobi dead. That includes Ino. And whether you kill me now or in three weeks is no matter—that's what you said. Why are you acting like you'll help us now?"
Pausing, she waited for an answer that never came. The tomoe in both his dojutsu spun idly in mismatched paces as he watched her.
Her brow furrowed as she went on. "It was never about peace for you. You just wanted to win. You told me that from the start, so what are you doing here, Sasuke? You already won. What game are you playing now?"
Sasuke chuckled—chuckled. "You really do get caught in the trees."
The lift of his lips tickled her will to fight with him again. "What are you even talking about? And why are you laughing?!" She glowered. "Those are all things you said, aren't they? Stop ignoring everything I say and responding with completely unrelated nonsense. You don't make any sense!"
"Yes, I said all those things." Reaching out, he tugged her arm, pulling her back against his chest. Sakura let herself fall into him, speechless and bewildered. "Now sit here quietly and calm down before I release this jutsu. My seal is so loud already. It doesn't need you all worked up, too."
.
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When Sasuke ended the jutsu and she mentally re-entered herself, Orochimaru was sitting at his desk watching them from across the room, smirking. Sasuke hadn't looked at either of them as he straightened from the kneeled position he'd taken by her chair and strode out of the room.
"Playing nicely, I hope?" His teacher regarded her with twisted delight.
The operating table was clean; the room smelled of fresh antisceptic and citrus.
"Are you finished?" she asked instead.
"Quite some time ago."
"Take me back to my room then."
"Please?"
With a roll of her eyes, she intoned, "Please kindly escort me to my chambers, O great Sannin."
"With pleasure," he said in kind, rising from his seat with an air of satisfaction. "I'm overjoyed you appear to be feeling better after your little vacation."
Unsurprisingly, Sasuke didn't return to their shared room that night. Inside the seal genjutsu, he'd been like a man possessed—someone she'd seen glimpses of in months past but not once since the war ended. She didn't know Sasuke like she'd once deluded herself into believing, but she did know such an uncharacteristic break meant she'd probably not see him for a least a few days.
The whole interaction was confusing. The more she thought about it, the less she understood. If he was truly willing to help Ino escape, then by all means, she'd cooperate with him to hell and back—whatever his motives were.
But the rest of it…
She wanted to dissect it. Wanted to write it all down, parse it out, and translate it into something she could understand. But doing so meant that she cared—that what his motivations were mattered to her.
And Sakura didn't care. Not anymore.
She couldn't care if she was going to survive long enough to get Ino out of this place.
What good could possibly come from any answer she may arrive at, anyway? No explanation for why Sasuke Uchiha had once again offered himself as a comfort to her ended on a happy note. Regardless of the reasons, she was still a captive and he was still her captor. And maybe—maybe—that wasn't entirely his fault.
But he'd had the means to make it far less likely to happen, and hadn't done so. That, at least, was a fact written into the universe.
So instead of analyzing the whats and the whys, Sakura tried her damnedest to leave well enough alone. She scratched out more flowers on the wall by her pillow. She thumbed through a book on beginner-level medical jutsu, critiquing the author's proffered technique. Took a long shower and braided her hair. Mundane things to keep her mind occupied enough that it didn't fall back to, What the hell was that…?
That's why, when Suigetsu appeared with her dinner, she nearly jumped in relief. Suigetsu was the perfect distraction—a talker who spoke plainly instead of in riddles.
"Food's kinda good tonight. Pot roast," he said, placing the tray on the desk and moving to settle down on Sasuke's sleeping mat.
She took her seat and angled herself to look at him. "Thanks."
"Heard you had a freakout today. Feeling better?"
"As good as a prisoner with no freedom can, I guess."
Suigetsu chuckled as a kunai danced between his fingers. "Was it because your interrogations start soon?"
"No. Orochimaru was just talking in the clouds and said something that startled me, is all."
"Man, you're right. I don't understand half the shit he says."
As she wet a torn piece of bread in the juice of the roast, Sakura briefly wondered in which portion of the meal they were hiding the calmative. The bread, if she had to pick. It'd be the easiest thing to keep separate from portions going to others on the base.
"So, what set you off?"
Or maybe in the drink that came with every meal? "Hmm?"
"What'd Orochimaru say that got to you?"
"Oh. We were talking about a medical technique I developed…last summer."
"Slug Reanimation?"
Laying the spoon on the desk, she turned to face him fully. "Say again?"
"That's what our troops called that glowing thing you did. Cuz the slugs got real bright, and then all the people you'd just taken down were back on their feet and good to go. It was like a lesser Reanimation. Even shook my knees a bit."
Sakura stared back down at her food, unsure how those words should make her feel. Such praise from an enemy was a sign of respect, back when these things had mattered. But now…was it still a compliment?
If it was—then had Orochimaru's earlier assessment been true? Had Madara really been worried about her remote use of Hundred Healings?
Hours past her small dosage of lunch calmative, and not having eaten enough dinner for the new batch to set in, it wasn't something she wanted to dwell on.
Picking at her food, she decided to move the conversation past this potential landmine. "Can I ask you something?"
"You just did."
"I don't get the feeling you hate me."
"Was that a question?" He laughed. "What are you on about? You knock your head earlier?"
Sometimes talking with Suigetsu had its own kind of drawbacks. "I mean, did you hate me all along?"
"Eh, hate? Well, you aren't that bad. I mean—okay, listen, I'm not trying to talk my way into an ass-kicking. For a Konoha shinobi, you're one of the better ones I've met. How 'bout that?"
"Then why didn't you warn me about the last battle? Even if Sasuke didn't, you could've. Even Orochimaru could've."
Suigetsu pushed himself from the mat and made his way to the weapon grinder, sliding the kunai's edge against it. "That's complicated. Also, you're getting interrogated, and I'd rather not get myself killed when I made it this far."
Fair enough.
Although, Sakura knew that she wouldn't go out of her way to betray Suigetsu. Of all three men part of the agreement, the Kiri nukenin had been the least problematic to deal with. And that was likely the first and last time anyone had ever and would ever say those words about Suigetsu Hozuki.
"Don't you think the Allies stood a chance if you'd warned me?"
"Quiet down." He spun the grinder faster, filling the room with the loud screech of metal on rock. "Well, you've seen Madara's power."
"He was hurt," she pointed out.
"And so was your army. Y'all lost a lot of people in those last two attacks in Wind and Fire."
Stabbing the hunk of roast with more force than necessary, she challenged, "So you think we were always going to lose?"
"Probably. Hey—don't look at me like that. I never gave a shit about the Allies, you had to know that." Sparks popped off the kunai with how hard he was pressing it. "No offense, and I'm even a bit fond of you, kid. But at the end of the day, I gotta choose Sasuke. We kept him from getting himself killed. That's just how the jutsu works."
That piqued her interest. "What jutsu?"
"Maybe if you weren't set to be tortured for all the information you have," his smirk didn't fit the reality of his words, "I'd tell ya."
Finishing the rest of her bread, she watched him polish off his weapon and lay back on the sleeping mat. Him signaling that he wouldn't talk about this any further, today. She'd enough to digest as it was, so she let him end the matter.
Things weren't all as they seemed on Sasuke's base. There was something to be found underneath the underneath; surely Suigetsu was the easiest gateway to it. And delving into this didn't necessarily mean that she cared. It was more like she could focus on this, instead of getting wound up in whatever mood swing Sasuke found himself on that hour.
This was good. This was a task to let her mind fixate on. What jutsu?
"You know, you're smarter than you look, Suigetsu."
"Yup. Handsomer than I look, too."
Sakura raised her brow, glancing at him sideways. "...Right."
this was probably the most dialogue-heavy chapter I've ever written lmao
have a good week-bye :D
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thanks for reading, as always.
and thanks to Leech for beta-reading