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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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2:6. Firsts
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FIVE DAYS later, Sasuke proved her wrong once more when she blinked awake and there he was: Back to her, tying closed a wrapped black shirt.
The scene to any outside observer had to look so…domesticated. A woman—a prisoner—laid on a sleeping mat, watching a broad-shouldered man dress under fluorescent light, the room dim and hushed.
She was sure their little genjutsu situation would've driven him off for at least another week. Probably two. Even if solely to secure her silence for his sake, he'd still offered her the comfort of his body. And Sasuke hadn't ever been comfortable with comfort or physical contact.
Yet, despite their last encounter, the atmosphere Sakura awoke to didn't feel the least bit stilted or tense. If anything, it felt hauntingly similar to the time they'd spent in Uzushiogakure. Even down to how he casually showed her his back—as there was no doubt he knew the moment she woke up.
Maybe he'd been more honest about cooperating than she'd allowed herself to believe.
Over the past few nights, she'd thought more about the whats and the whys while drifting on the plane between dreams and reality. And ultimately, looking at it from his standpoint, making her pliant and cooperative made sense. Because for as much power as Sasuke Uchiha had over her, she needed only speak one well-placed sentence, and his life was forfeit.
"If you're up, get ready." He glanced over his shoulder before turning to face her. "We need to talk before your questioning."
Questioning. What an innocent way to frame what he'd soon escort her to.
Her eyes slid over his damp bangs and the moisture on his collarbones, then up to the ceiling. "You'd like me to shower for my whipping?"
"...Wash your face and brush your teeth, at least."
"Oh?" Something in her gut had her trying to hide the chasm her heart collapsed into behind sarcasm. "Is someone I need to impress coming to see me? A potential suitor?"
She heard him sigh. "By all means, show up looking defeated if that's preferred."
It took her a handful of seconds to catch his connotation.
With a scowl, she shoved herself off the sleeping mat and towards the bathroom in one stiff motion.
If it were Tsunade here, she'd have scolded her with weightless words for not listening in the first place. If it were Kakashi, he'd have chuckled at her behavior and returned to reading his book. If it were Naruto, he would've said something not half as funny as his following laugh accounted for, and all the more irksome for it.
But those people were gone forever.
They were gone, and it should've hurt more than the dull ache it was. Only a week ago, their memories would've felt like disembowelment this early in the day. Today their spirits were phantom limbs.
That should've hurt, too: the forced blunting of her emotions. And yet—it felt like nothing.
In the place her loved ones weren't was only Sasuke, who remained mute as she marched into the bathroom to do as he'd suggested.
If it mattered anymore—which it didn't—she would've burned with embarrassment at how right he was about her appearance. She angrily tugged fingers through her long, pink tresses, untangling the bedhead with one hand as the other worked a toothbrush back and forth. The woman in the mirror stared back with dead eyes and a sharper jaw. Red cheeks.
She spit out the minty toothpaste; splashed water over her face. Glanced once more at the strange creature reflected back before returning to the room.
Sasuke held out a black shirt and slacks for her. When she took them without thanks, he turned to face the opposite wall.
"So? What'd you want to say, then?" she asked, changing as quickly as she could. To her surprise, and slight mortification, a fresh pair of underwear and a sports bra were tucked between the clothing.
"Do you agree to stay quiet today?"
"Do you agree to get Ino out?"
"I agreed to try," clarified Sasuke.
"Have you started trying?"
"Do well today, and I'll start tonight."
"Mm…"
Maybe she could use this more to her advantage, somehow. Like having Ino stationed on this base in exchange for continued cooperation. Perhaps even get herself housed in the same set of cells they kept Ino—or, best case, get Ino moved into this room with her. Sasuke needed her—to ensure his continued state of living, after all. Surely nothing she might request in trade could be worth more than his own life.
"Are your chakra channels still blocked?"
Her thumbs stopped halfway up her thighs, the hem of her slacks cinched straight across. "How did you…?"
"When I was healing you, your pathways felt…empty."
She swallowed down the Fuck off and the Who's fault is that? waiting on the tip of her tongue. How much could she tell him? How much could she trust him? How much did he already know? Even if he demanded civility between them for Ino's sake, it was hard not to let the red-eyed monster of betrayal out to bite him when it so badly begged for it.
Realistically though, there wasn't any point in hiding it if he already suspected. Sasuke was skilled and knowledgeable enough to know if she lied. It'd be ignorant to think otherwise.
"They're blocked, yes." But there was no reason to tell him anything more than that. Yanking the slacks the rest of the way on, she knotted them around her waist.
"Why haven't you reopened them?"
"Uh. Maybe because of these things you gifted my ankles."
"You still have access to some chakra. Enough that I can sense it. You should've been able to unblock them over the past two months."
The black shirt glided over her arms and belly as she considered how to answer.
She couldn't tell him she hadn't even thought to do that. Could maybe tell him she didn't plan on living very long, so she hadn't bothered. Though, that seemed like it should be obvious enough that he wouldn't have asked if he thought that was true…and may additionally lead to her admitting that she hadn't thought to do it because she planned to die before it mattered.
The way he said it, however—the curious, deep tone his voice had taken instead of the biting, critical way he approached most other obvious observations made her want to conceal that she didn't do it simply because she didn't think to. That familiar demand to not look useless bubbled up.
"I was using the small amount I could access to block off the seal's effect as much as possible." Since it wasn't a total lie, the words came out believable enough to her own ear. "I can't do both with what I have. Being influenced less seemed better than opening pathways I can't use anyway."
"Hmm. Are you dressed?"
"Yes."
He pivoted, and Sakura looked away before his sickeningly attractive face dumbed down her thoughts and washed her hatred of him in the mercy of Gods.
"To heal others…what channels do you need access to?"
Confused, she frowned. "Why?"
"Just answer."
"If you'd explain yourself—ever…" she mumbled. Then, before he could say something that'd assuredly set her off, "My arms, I guess. My chest. I've still got access to the pathways in my neck and head."
"How long would it take you to reopen them?"
"Why are you asking? Who are you expecting me to heal?" Orochimaru's off-hand comments lurked in her thoughts. "Because I won't heal Madara, let's get that straight right now."
"Not Madara." She felt him move closer. Gaze darting to him, she danced back against his approach. He merely raised an unbothered brow as he backed her into a wall. "Ino."
This close, she could see the smallest shifts of his irises. Could see how he studied the tips of her hair, now brushing past her shoulders. Watched them land on the seal marking her neck.
Careful to keep her words steady, she asked, "What about Ino?"
Then he was kneeling, left hand wrapping around the metal on her right ankle. He stared up at her, bangs falling back. His warmth soaked into her through the suppressor.
"You'll want to heal her, right?"
She gulped. "O-of course…but Madara would never allow it…"
"I'll allow it." His sight dropped back to her ankle. "If you promise not to run or fight when I take these off."
"You're too old to ask for promises, Sasuke." She wondered if he'd know from where she pulled these words. Wondered if that conversation had burned into his memories the way it'd seared into hers. "A cruel man once said that promises in war are worthless." As soon as the words were out, she wondered why she wondered any of that.
He chuckled in a way that made her think he did remember.
Instead of falling into the pleased feeling spreading out from her neck, Sakura glared at the shelves of scrolls, angry at herself for letting slip something so personal and teasing when she should've been maintaining space. He was a terrible person. A betrayer and a liar and she hated him.
"Think you can open up the necessary pathways in half an hour?"
"...I can do it in a few minutes." Probably less than one, but she wasn't sure how her lack of usage over the past 11 weeks might affect her. For all she knew, her kneading could've slowed immensely after such a long time. It was better to overestimate and impress than underestimate and disappoint.
The corner of his lip turned up as he zapped the left anklet; it fell open into his waiting palm. "Most people need half a day to reclaim their pathways after Black Receiver damage." His other hand encased the left suppressor, hot breath fanning the cloth on her thigh. "I mean it. Don't run. You know I can catch you, and I won't help you through that punishment."
"Sure, I know you're faster than me." She monitored his reaction. "But I don't know if you can survive a cave collapsing on top of you."
He gave nothing away but a tightening of his hold on her ankle. "Only open what you need to heal. Leave the rest." Resigning her threat to perish unanswered, Sasuke removed the second suppressor.
The first thing Sakura noticed was how empty the byakugou was. Without access to her chakra, it was impossible to gauge what was within it or store any extra, so she hadn't a clue this whole time how devoid she was of reserves. But it hadn't been this empty during the last battle—of that, she was confident.
She could ask Sasuke if it was the work of the suppressors. Nonetheless, chances were slim he'd even respond; if he did, the answer wouldn't change the fact.
The next thing she noticed was how her active chakra roared back to life, stocked and eager as if it'd never left.
Breaking open the sealed pathways was like plowing through rock. It was a slower process than she was usually capable of, yet faster than she'd anticipated it might be. Sasuke scrutinized her closely, red and purple eyes flitting across her arms and chest as she worked.
"Can you see what I'm doing?" she ventured after a minute, the process nearly completed.
To her surprise, he shook his head. "I can't see individual channels, but I can see concentrations of chakra. The distinct color of people's signatures, specifically."
Sakura hadn't expected him to answer at all, let alone give away something about his bloodline. Something so interesting, at that.
Well, not that it mattered anymore.
She was still curious, though. "...What color is mine?"
"The green of Konoha's jonin vest."
"Green, huh?" She forced open the last blockage in her fingers and flexed them. Under two minutes. Not bad for being rusty, she thought. "I'm done. See? I didn't run, so you'd better keep your word as well."
"...Quick."
"Yeah. Chakra control is my specialty. Oh—is that why mine is green? Because I use healing jutsu the most?"
As she asked, the suppressors clicked back into place around her ankles, robbing her of her strength again. Sakura tried not to think about it. Tried to focus on the fact that he'd allow her to heal Ino if she behaved. Equally unsettling, however, was how her mind had so quickly framed that thought around her...behaving.
"Chakra color's innate. Yours has been green since the Academy." Straightening back to his full height, he gave her one last once-over before his dojutsu dimmed to black. "But it used to be the color of your eyes."
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The room he led her to was a small, cramped space in a section of the base she'd never seen. She could feel him in the hallway outside even after the door closed. Even without chakra to scan for him.
Inside was a single metal table. Two chairs on one side, one chair with a low back on the other. Two black-masked, Akatsuki-robed shinobi stood on the opposite side of the cave room. A single light hung in the center of the ceiling.
Sporting a mask carved with a square, the shorter of the two individuals moved away from the wall. "Have a seat, prisoner." A woman's voice.
Lifting her chin, Sakura obeyed, stepping forward to sit in the chair by itself. The taller of the two interrogators sat down across from her, his mask carved with a simple triangle. The other opened the door she'd entered through and peeked out.
"Won't you watch, Sasuke-sama?"
Sakura couldn't see him but could hear his snappy, "Not my job."
"Come on! It'll be fun. I heard she's sealed to you. Maybe you can—"
"You dare to speak to me regarding confidential information?" he asked, low and controlled. Deadly. Sakura didn't need access to her chakra to feel the threat seeping into the room from the hallway.
The interrogator stepped firmly away from the entry. "My apologies, Sasuke-sama. Please forgive me." And with that, she closed the door swiftly.
"You've got a death wish," the sitting interrogator mumbled. A man—much older by the gravel of his tone. "The youngest Uchiha never watches this kind of thing when Madara-sama isn't around."
"Why didn't you tell me that?!" whined the woman. She'd returned to Sakura's side. "Arms on the armrests, prisoner."'
Doing as she was told, Sakura kept her sights trained on the seated interrogator as his partner swiftly wrapped thick chains around both her arms, tying her down to the chair.
"Why talk to him at all? He would've come in with the prisoner if he wanted to. Use your brain. He's well above your station. You spoke out of place and out of line. Disclosing confidential information like that—"
"I get it." The woman—girl, maybe?—now finished with Sakura flopped into the last open seat. "Let's just get this over with."
The girl's hands crossed in a hand seal Sakura had never seen before. A cold sensation trickled over her skin in her next breath. She can feel other's emotions, said Sasuke in her mind, as if he'd felt the jutsu fall upon her. Try not to let yours spike at any particular question.
"Confusion. Anger. Depression. Gods, you've been dosed way above prisoner protocol. You're all...dingy. Anyway, I've got a baseline whenever you're ready, sensei."
Triangle mask leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table between them. "What's your name?"
Answer. "Sakura Haruno." Her brain fuzzed under the dose of endorphins.
"Where are you from?"
Answer. "Konoha."
"And you're a medic, right?"
"That's right," she replied without waiting for Sasuke's initiative. She could hear his intent through their link now that she wasn't trying to ignore it. He wanted her to answer anything that was common knowledge and stay silent only on those matters which may lead Madara to any important Allies.
Important Allies who might know him.
She kept the scowl off her face.
"They say you were the late Fifth Hokage's apprentice."
Her heart leapt into her throat. Stay calm, came an order. Swallowing down the numbed despair, Sakura fisted her hands under their chains.
"I was."
"That makes you sad, huh?" goaded the girl, rocking back on her chair. "Talking about your dead teacher?"
Before Sakura could respond, the man asked, "Were you ever stationed in Wind?"
The question threw her off enough that she felt her face immediately give away her confusion. Wind? Where had that come from? They knew she was from Fire—likely knew she'd spent the last few months of the war in Lightning. But Wind?
Evade.
Sakura shrugged. "Can't remember."
The girl shot up from her chair. "Maybe you don't understand how this works, Sakura Haruno." How venomously she spoke her full name sounded so different from the sly way Orochimaru said it. "You probably never had to see this side of war while you were busy playing savior and everyone's beloved in the safety of medical. So let me explain before we continue. This here is an interrogation, got it? That means we ask questions and you give us answers, or bad things might happen. Painful things. Simple enough, right?"
The ridicule riddled in the interrogator's words angered Sakura.
What the fuck would this little girl know?
How many captives had the girl healed after an interrogation session? How many battles had she even been ordered into? How many friends and family had she lost? How many people had she watched die? Allowed to die? Chosen to die? Tens? Hundreds? Thousands?
What did this child know about anything?
But Sakura couldn't release any of that.
So with an exaggerated gasp, Sakura looked around the room, eyes wide. "Really? I had no idea! So that's what's going on!" She smiled sweetly up at the masked girl who'd come to stand beside her. "Thank you, Square-chan. Your simple explanation was very helpful."
Cool it… Sasuke whispered.
"Oh hoh, you think this is funny?" The girl's hand lifted out of her robes, a kunai dangling off her pointing finger.
"No, this isn't funny." Sakura breathed out, steeling her nerves and tensing her body. Sakura, don't—"But I do think you're a joke."
The kunai lodged itself in the front of her shoulder up to its hilt. Since she'd anticipated it, she managed not to react. Honestly, she'd expected it to land somewhere more painful or impactful. The girl hadn't even aimed for a bone.
"Calm down, Kaori. She's riling you up on purpose," the other interrogator barked.
Still grinning, Sakura saw the girl's shoulders droop.
"This is just warning her, sensei. Keep going."
After a pause, the man sighed. "Very well. The Kazekage. Do you know him well?"
Don't answer. "Well? Hmm. I'm not sure."
The girl twisted the kunai in her shoulder. Sakura clenched her teeth at the pain of her muscles being carved through.
"Did you see him in the last battle?"
Say you don't know. "A lot was going on. I don't know."
The kunai was ripped from her body and plunged into the back of her shoulder in half a second. Its impact carried through to the front, forcing her first wound to weep under pressure. Soaking her arm in warm, thick liquid that pooled in her lap. Sakura kept her eyes on the triangle-masked man opposite her, careful not to let the sticky wetness and its metallic scent hurl her into a battlefield.
"How much chakra does the Kazekage retain from the Ichibi?"
Sasuke's swift Don't answer was only slightly pointless—she genuinely didn't know. Though the hormones released for her answering in compliance with his order partially numbed out the saw of the kunai twisting in her back, so it had its usefulness.
It hurt. Sakura wouldn't pretend that it didn't. But she'd been stabbed with a kunai hundreds of times. It was a familiar pain—a rather uncreative method of torture, really.
"Did Suna have an evacuation route linked to any island in the Mist Sea?"
She did know that answer. Suna had three routes, from three different islands in the Mist Sea. Islands that most maps didn't even have charted. Routes she only knew because all three were nearly identical to ones Konoha had set.
Don't tell him any of that, Sasuke chastised.
As if I would, she thought back loudly. I was just thinking it… Ugh, stop listening so closely.
"I'm from Konoha," she spoke aloud. "Why would I know anything about Suna?" The kunai slammed into her other shoulder, leaving a second open wound.
The two interrogators continued on for some time, the girl opening hole after hole in her body, the man asking questions about Suna and Wind. Most of which Sakura couldn't answer even if she wanted to.
Eventually, triangle-mask stood and walked around the table. "Kaori, go get the other prisoner."
"Got it." The girl tore her kunai from Sakura's leg and wiped it on her black robe as she exited the room. Sakura watched as she bowed and offered a quiet, "Sasuke-sama."
"Keep my identity hidden from this next captive." Hearing him speak outside of her mind was jarring.
"Yes, sir," answered the girl before she disappeared from view.
Triangle-mask held his hands out to her, palms up. "I'll heal you now. Okay?"
"Heal me?" Sakura raised a brow. "Why?"
"You've lost a lot of blood. It'll be pointless if you pass out."
Glancing away, Sakura shrugged. "Whatever."
The healing jutsu touched down on her shoulder, and she directed her mind to his technique. It was smooth enough to prove that he had training in the art, yet not as proficient as an average field medic. As her wounds closed and their bleeding staunched, though, it became clear her body was feeling the effects of blood loss. In the adrenalin of the moment, she hadn't noticed the trembling of her fingers or the shortness of her breath.
You're doing well, Sasuke praised. Good job.
She grimaced. Fuck you. She'd just been stabbed in more than ten different locations because of him. Good job? Good job?! She hated him. Hated him. He had to be the most despicable, disgusting, devilish—
Devilish?
Ugh! Seriously, Sasuke, fuck off! What the hell?! I can't stand you. I must've been out of my fucking mind all these years. You're the worst human being I've ever met in my entire life.
You've met Madara.
I fucking hate you.
Alright, enough with the cursing. Calm down.
Admittedly, the seal's effects did help to handle the pain. Her brain was so swamped with endorphins in the last half hour that she'd nearly forgotten she was swimming in a crimson bath. But without her weak barrier around the seal damming it in, Sasuke appeared to have full, uninhibited access to her mind. A terribly unbalanced trade-off, in her opinion.
The door swung open, interrupting her thoughts, and there was Ino. Dressed in the grey garb of a servant, hair matted and hands cuffed in front of her.
Act normal, Sasuke commanded.
She knew he was right. The more Sakura showed she cared, the worse it'd be for Ino—especially when Ino had her tongue sealed. But knowing it didn't make doing it any easier.
Sakura smoothed her expression and locked gazes with her friend. Ino's eyes widened as she skimmed over Sakura's appearance, no doubt a grisly sight. The interrogator mended her, but the evidence remained.
"It's healed," assured Sakura, unable to stop herself from trying to calm the panic crossing Ino's face. "I'm okay."
Ino nodded as the masked girl led her to the seat she'd left empty, shoving her down into it. Sakura used the closer distance to examine her more carefully. The bruises were fading. Despite the state of her hair, Ino looked cleaner than she had in Earth. Barring the dark circles under her eyes that weren't any better, she looked…fine.
As fine as Sakura could wish for.
"You know how this part works, don't you, medic?" Square-mask had the kunai out again, spinning it on her finger. "Or do you need another explanation?"
"...I'm sorry, Ino," she responded instead.
Stop talking to her, Sakura. Get it together.
She had it together—but she'd be damned if she was going to watch Ino get tortured for her silence without any apology. Ino didn't deserve this. In a hundred lifetimes, Ino would never deserve this fate.
"Don't be." The head of the Yamanaka clan only lifted her chin. "This is nothing."
And Sakura knew that Ino meant it. Ino didn't want Sakura's apology.
At a young age, all Konoha shinobi learned that giving up information to the enemy was worse than whatever happened in these sorts of places. It was drilled into them: Protect the whole over oneself. Protect the family.
But seeing the interrogator wrap a chain around Ino's midsection, locking her down to the chair, made that sentiment feel so...hollow. Ino gritted her teeth as square-mask tightened the links on her stomach, and for the briefest of fleeting moments, Sakura thought—
Maybe Madara hadn't been wrong about this.
Focus on the room, Sasuke warned. Stay here.
Sakura blinked, clearing her mind. The girl was now dragging her kunai's tip across Ino's neck like she meant to slice it open.
"Is this Ino Yamanaka?" the man inquired.
Answer. "...Yes." Endorphins surged through her brain.
"Is she also from Konoha?"
Answer. "She is."
"How long have you known each other?"
Sakura hesitated when Sasuke's directive came a beat late. Answer, if you want.
"More than fifteen years," she whispered, smiling at her best friend. Most of their lives. She could barely remember a time that Ino wasn't there. No one left alive knew her more than Ino. No one on the planet loved her as much as Ino.
"She was a top intelligence personnel in the Army, correct?"
Yes. "Yes."
"Was she Shikamaru Nara's teammate?"
Answer was Sasuke's demand, but Ino's eyes flashed in a warning.
Sakura dipped her head. "I don't remember. Teams weren't used much during the war."
She felt Sasuke's annoyance beat through her at the exact moment the kunai pushed through Ino's thigh. Beyond the flex of her jaw, Ino showed no acknowledgment of it.
"Who put that seal on her?"
You don't know. "I don't know."
The kunai twisted.
"Were you ever stationed in Wind?"
From that point on, the male interrogator asked her the same set of questions he'd asked before bringing Ino in. It didn't make sense why they quizzed her, a top Konoha shinobi, with topics related to a different army.
They'd captured Baki. If they wanted answers on Suna and the Kazekage, they should've gone to him. Gaara's sensei would know more about him than almost any shinobi in the world.
But on the fifteenth unanswered question, when Ino's face finally contorted in pain as the female interrogator stabbed her through the forearm, the pieces fell into place. The enemy shinobi knew that Sakura probably didn't have this intelligence. They had to know. If not by nature of their job, then merely through common sense. No Kage would tell such sensitive information to a member of another army, allies or not.
This session wasn't about getting information. It was about laying a foundation.
The interrogators didn't care if Sakura answered any or all of their questions. They would've inflicted this torture on her and Ino regardless.
When they asked the last question, Ino was a horrific sight. Bathed in blood, shaking, eyelids drooping every few seconds. And yet, Sakura felt more proud than scared—Ino had been so strong. She'd barely flinched the whole time. Hadn't let out a single sound of pain or discomfort.
It was somehow less traumatizing to witness the damage administered than to see its product without knowing what caused it. If Ino had walked through the door looking like this, Sakura might've passed out. Having seen Ino get stabbed was a sick sort of vision that'd surely haunt her nightmares until the end, but at least she knew what happened. She knew that Ino would be okay.
If this was what Madara's interrogation entailed, she and Ino would get through.
"We'll stop here for today," said the man, scratching his chin under the mask.
"So soon?" The girl yanked the kunai from Ino's calf. "We haven't gotten much, though."
"It's only day one. Have patience, Kaori."
"Yeah, yeah."
Sensei and student strolled towards the door as if they'd completely forgotten the two prisoners' existence. Both bowed to the man hidden by the wall as they stepped out and turned away into the hallway. The man ushered the girl to walk ahead of him, blocking what Sakura assumed was Sasuke's view of the girl's back.
The unnatural chill of the interrogator's strange jutsu drifted away.
Don't tell her my identity, Sasuke warned. I won't let you heal her if you do.
Got it, she accepted immediately, too concerned about Ino's state to be bothered by Sasuke's irritating threat.
"Ino? Are you good? You okay?" she queried, noting how Ino's chest moved up and down faster than it ought to.
"I'm—fine. Promise."
Sasuke rounded the doorframe a moment later. Cat mask concealing his face while the Akatsuki robe's hood hid his hair. Briefly, Sakura wondered if Ino had seen his mask before in any scenario that she might connect him to it. Tried to remember if she'd talked about what mask Sasuke wore before she'd known who it obscured.
But those things weren't important now. "How bad is it?"
Sasuke knelt by her side, unlocking the chains tying her to the chair.
"Not very," Ino deflected, voice strained. "Not as—bad as I—thought it'd be."
"I'll heal you. Wait just a few more seconds." Sakura rubbed her wrists as the second chain clinked onto the stone floor.
His fingers brushed down her ankle before fitting around the suppressor. "Don't run. Don't try to take her away." Quiet enough that Ino likely couldn't hear.
"I know. Hurry."
With two soft zaps of chakra, Sakura was free.
She darted around the table, green hands flying over Ino's body. The wounds were deep and large—something that could certainly kill her without treatment.
But within a few minutes, Ino was perfect again. Sakura healed the lingering contusions and mended a broken rib. Fixed the sprain in her left wrist. Took an additional two minutes to carefully heal what she could in Ino's mind, twisted as it'd become, though she'd never known how helpful that specific technique was.
Her friend had lost weight. A lot of it. Ino had always been a slim woman, such a drastic loss was highly unhealthy. And—there'd been bruises. Bruises in places that left no question. Begging Sasuke not to listen to this part, Sakura swallowed down bile. Ino had scrapes along her back that only pressure against rock could make. Internal wounds that could only mean one thing.
And she knew that Ino wouldn't want her to bring it up. Not in this room with a stranger. Maybe not ever.
So she didn't ask. And when Ino gazed up into her eyes, she kept the look from showing. The look that would only come across as pity to Ino—but was something so much more. A righteous anger. A guilt so deep it could kill her one day.
Sakura wanted to vomit.
"Thank you, Sakura," Ino whispered.
"I'm sorry." With a quivering hand, Sakura smoothed over Ino's hair like her mother used to do to her. Trying her best to keep the words in—to hide the look. Then she leaned down and wrapped Ino in a hug, chair and all. She felt Ino's face turn into her neck. Heard her friend stifle back a sob. "I'm sorry."
What else was there to say? Sakura had a million things she wanted to tell Ino. That she loved her, that she wasn't alone, that she'd never abandon her—ever. But none of those platitudes felt adequate. No words could revise what'd happened to her. No sentiments could change what would continue happening so long as Ino remained in Madara's control.
"Reunion's over. Yamanaka's guards are coming to retrieve her." Sasuke concealed his voice behind an unnaturally deep tone. "Step away from the other prisoner, Haruno."
Sakura hugged Ino tighter. "I'm working on a plan. You're going to get out of this, I swear it. Don't let them break you, Pig. Stay strong. I love you."
"No—focus on you. Leave me here and get—"
"Time's up." Sasuke yanked her away with a rigid grip on her upper arm, pulling her out of the room and into the hallway.
"Hey! What the—that hurts," she hissed, craning back to catch another glimpse of Ino.
She found herself staring into a bathroom with no door. A showerhead attached to the ceiling without any curtain to hide it.
They were back in his room.
Her head whipped around as Sasuke's hand slipped down to her ankle, locking her back in the suppressors. She reformed the barrier on the seal, hoping to hide her mind from him again. Hoping he'd given Ino the small courtesy of not hearing what she'd thought moments ago.
"How long until you can get her out?" she beseeched, voice cracking.
"Depends."
"On what? They're abusing her, Sasuke—"
"It's been less than a week." He laid his mask on the table. "Give me time to work it out."
Sasuke didn't understand. "She doesn't have time! She needs to escape right now."
"The Yamanaka is fine. She has different guards now."
"Ino!" Sakura shouted, tears springing to her eyes. "Her name is Ino."
Ignoring her, he pulled off his Akatsuki robe next and sealed both items on the scroll he always wore around his wrist. Then, to her surprise, he turned to face her. Leaned on the desk and crossed his arms. When she stepped back once involuntarily, his brow quirked.
"Believe it or not, I want to get Ino out as quickly as you do. Once she's freed, you'll not soon give away any secrets that might endanger her, and all those secrets are the same ones that could endanger me. So give me some time."
If her emotions weren't so dampened, she might've launched herself at him.
How dare he? Just how low could he sink before finally reaching the bottom of vileness? The viciousness of his character knew no bounds. The side he'd chosen was doing unspeakable things to her best friend—to a woman he'd grown up with and knew.
Yet all he cared about was how it impacted him.
"It's mindblowing how disgustingly selfish you are, Sasuke," she spat, taking another step away from him. "I think I finally understand why you pretended to betray Madara. A move to play both sides, right? So no matter who won, you'd be safe. It was always about you."
Sasuke ran a hand through his hair. "No. It was about hating Madara."
"Liar. That's a lie. He's your family. Even when you came to us with an agreement, you still had some loyalty to him." She waved her hand over all of him. "Clearly."
"If I considered him family, would I have gone as far as I did? I told you I thought the Allies should win."
"But you never said you hated Madara."
"Did I need to say it before this moment for it to be true?"
Breathing hard, she regarded him with a mix of shock and ire. "You're only saying it now to coax me into believing you'll actually help Ino. So I'll be quiet like you always want me to be."
He shrugged. "Or you just never asked."
"Asked? Sasuke—asked? As if you ever let me ask you anything of substance! As if you don't turn tail and run anytime I manage to ask something!"
Pushing himself off the table with a smirk, he tapped the sealing scroll on his wrist, and out popped a set of clean-smelling, black, folded clothes. "I've got a meeting with my favorite uncle. I'll be back in the morning. Behave while I'm gone."
He placed the clothes on the desk before heading toward the exit. Sakura glared at his back as he opened the door.
"See what I mean? Turning tail and running."
The amusement that warmed her neck as the door shut behind him bewildered and incensed her.
She spent the following hours replaying their conversation in her mind, thinking of insults she wished she'd said and points she should've made. Gaming what she could've done differently to keep the discussion going a bit longer—for more information.
It wasn't until she laid down to sleep that evening that she realized her obsession with how terrible Sasuke Uchiha was—and all the ways she wanted to inform him of that fact—had wholly consumed her thoughts all day. All day.
A five minute conversation.
That was all it took for her flighty mind to shelve away a torture interrogation. To simply drop the panic attack that Ino's condition nearly lapsed her into. A five minute conversation with the worst man alive was all it took for him to monopolize her entire psyche.
Sakura summoned the recipe for soldier pills from under the compulsive haze and, with a shaky breath, checked the stability of her chakra wall around the seal.
But it was too late for her. Far, far too late.
hi everyone here!
thank you to everyone leaving such wonderful comments and feedback.
again-it's hard to reply on ffnet, so if you ever want me to respond,
please find this fic on AO3 and leave something so I can reply :)
have a wonderful week!
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thanks for reading, as always.
and thanks to Leech for beta-reading