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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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2:7. Teammates
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"WHO TOOK Madara-sama's black rods out of your body?"
Don't answer.
"I don't—know."
The kunoichi held Sakura's palm down on the table as she wrenched her thumb back in one quick motion, cracking most of the few unbroken bones remaining in her left hand. Sakura let out a shriek, tears streaming down her face. Her feet throbbed under the chair—bulging, swollen flesh and shards of bone. Already wholly smashed.
"What other Allies came with the Eight Tails and the Raikage?" triangle-mask asked.
Say no one.
Through heavy breaths, Sakura complied. "...No—no one else."
"Hmm. There's no fingers left, sensei. What should I move to next?"
"Work your way up her arms, then switch back to her legs."
The girl—Kaori—freed Sakura's right forearm from the tight leather straps holding it flat to the table. "You sure? No way she won't pass out if I break her femur," she said, slamming the handle of a kunai into the middle of Sakura's wrist on the end of her sentence.
Shattering it.
Sakura's vision swam black for half a second. If it weren't for the hormones Sasuke was forcing into her system, she'd probably have lost consciousness.
You're okay, he insisted.
The male interrogator shrugged. "If so, I'll use that time to heal her. Then we'll have Sasuke-sama wake her and start with her toes again. When you found the jinchuriki in the forest, Haruno, who did you alert?"
Tell them you told the Hokage, Sasuke commanded. His presence just outside the door was like an unreachable oasis. Both there and not there. Helpful and useless all at once.
"I—told—the Hokage."
"Who else?"
No one.
"No one."
Square mask's head turned towards her seated superior in a silent question; the sensei lifted his fingers gently off the tabletop in agreement.
Kaori giggled. "A bit of a masochist, aren't you, medic?" Then she gripped Sakura's right forearm with both hands, three inches between the grips, and jerked them in opposite directions.
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"Five."
…Why are you hesitating?
"Four."
They're going to kill her, Sasuke!
"Three."
They need her. They can't kill her.
"Two," drawled the male interrogator.
"I don't fucking know!" Sakura shouted. "I don't know. I don't."
"Hmm. Pity. Go, Kaori."
The copper-tipped whip slashed across Ino's stomach, lacing into the sizzling blood already overtaking all of the linker's torso. Ino screamed, slamming her head back into the stone behind her.
They'd stripped her naked and hung her by her wrists against the wall. Strapped her ankles to it like a drying animal hide. Red rivered down Ino's legs, dripping into a growing pool on the rock floor beneath her. Chunks of mutilated flesh hung from her chest and belly, torn off by the twenty or so haphazard strikes the girl had already administered.
Some kind of irritant or poison coated the whip, causing the wounds it made to boil up in sickly green acid atop the crimson butchery.
Triangle-mask leaned forward. "Let's try that one again. What country were the Kage hiding both jinchuriki in before the Allies grouped in Lightning?"
Sakura gritted her teeth and glared as Ino wheezed, her breath shallow and pained.
They'll whip her twice if you stay silent, Sasuke pointed out.
"Do we really have to do this every time?" A sigh escaped from under the triangle mask. "Five."
Sakura. Get ahold of yourself.
"Four."
You. Don't. Know. Say it.
"...I don't know," Sakura tried to snarl, though it came out more like a mewl.
Ino's cry echoed in the chamber as the whip tore through her left breast.
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"Sakura."
Startled, she rotated to face him, bringing the blankets up around her in the new position. "What? What happened?"
It was rare for Sasuke to speak to her once they'd both laid down for sleep. Rare for him to initiate conversation at all, outside of the interrogations. The rarity had her mind spiraling into the worst possibilities.
As the hours of questioning compiled, the tension between them grew. At the end of every session, he mutely removed her suppressors as promised. Stood by the wall observing her heal herself or Ino. Alerted her when it was time to go. But once they left that room, it was almost like what happened within it was shut away behind its door.
He'd withdraw from her mind. She'd reform the weak barrier around the seal. And that was that.
They never spoke about the torture. Never acknowledged the tears on her cheeks or the anger she felt in his aura through their connection. The silence between them simply grew heavier by the day, weighed down with every word they opted to swallow.
"Sasuke? What's going on?" she urged, realizing he hadn't yet responded.
"Why aren't you using Hundred Healings?"
The room was pitched in darkness, quiet as night. He'd turned the light off 20 minutes ago; the sudden inquiry was strange and out of place. Had he been wondering about that all this time?
"Why do you ask?" Squinting, she tried to make out his silhouette.
"It's the most efficient way to heal yourself and Ino, isn't it?"
Sakura nodded—then realized after a few seconds that he couldn't see. "Uh, yes. It would be"
"So why not use it instead of the normal healing jutsu?"
It was a good question.
There were reasons she could give him that wouldn't be a lie. Things like, Tsunade had drilled into her that Hundred Healings was a jutsu of last resort, only appropriate in times when healing jutsu was impossible. That she rarely used it, and hadn't ever used it on others prior to last summer. That the last few months of the war were an anomaly. An exception to the rule. Not something she intended to carry on forever.
"My byakugou is empty," she found herself confiding instead.
She could tell a half lie—but Sasuke would know that she wasn't being forthright. Though their seal was still mostly a mystery, she knew he could read her if he wanted. Had a suspicion he could even look through her thoughts if he tried. It wasn't worth hiding something this low-level from him.
And since he was asking, it meant he was already interested in the matter. If he wasn't satisfied with her answer, he'd probably just investigate on his own, and undoubtedly find the answer eventually.
"How empty?" he asked.
"Completely."
"And you can't supply it while suppressed."
"Right." Closing her eyes, she tugged the blanket up to her chin. Their talking this time hadn't gone poorly, but the topic was too ripe with landmines for such a late hour, and she'd nearly been asleep when he'd called out to her. "I'd need hundreds of soldier pills, too. Reaching a usable state without them would take at least two years." And I won't be alive for another two years.
So close, there was no way he didn't hear her thought; but all Sasuke said was, "I see."
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Suigetsu sneered at Ino, whose head he'd encased in water. Sakura tore her gaze from him, sick to her stomach, and watched as Ino convulsed in her chair beside the triangle-masked man. Distorted through the water, her face was an alien, misshapen thing. Veiny, too big and too small eyes, cheeks coloring to match her irises.
By now, she knew they wouldn't let Ino die. They had no qualms about delivering her to death's doorstep, however. Square-mask girl stood next to Suigetsu at the end of the table, hip jutting out like she was bored now that they'd called in help for the day.
"What shinobi was slated to become the next host of the Nine Tails?"
"I don't know."
"Did Konoha maintain any continuous port locations in Fire Country?"
"I don't know."
"Where did you hide the jinchuriki's body?"
"I didn't hide him."
That answer drew Sasuke's apprehension. She felt it pass over her so intensely it could've been her own sentiment.
"Worried about your friend, are we?" asked the girl with merriment. "I prefer it when I can hear her scream, personally."
Suigetsu laughed, and Sakura wished him dead. Ran through, left to bleed out and rot in a field where no one would care enough to find him.
"You're twisted," he said, winking the girl's way.
Stop answering so directly.
I told you not to order me when Ino's being tortured, Sakura snapped back.
Sasuke preferred when she responded with something more noncommittal—but what did it matter? Either way, she hadn't answered the question. That was the important part. She could answer the questions however she pleased beyond that.
"If not you, then who?" the male interrogator prodded.
She saw the exact moment Ino's eyes rolled back. Gripping the armrests to keep herself from flying out of her seat, Sakura's gaze narrowed as it slid to Suigetsu.
"...I don't know," she hissed.
Ino limped in the chair. The bubble of water immediately dispelled. Her skin was so blue it was edging on purple. Veins busted in the whites of her rolled eyes. Slacked in the straps locking her down, Ino's chest was still as the trunk of an old oak tree.
The man stood, walked to the door, opened it, and peeked out. "We need your assistance once more, Sasuke-sama."
Both masked Akatsuki members bowed as Sasuke strode into the room. He glanced at her, then at Suigetsu, and ended on Ino.
"Again, already?" he drawled, inspecting Ino's unmoving body. "I agreed to help with the medic, not with the Yamanaka."
What?! Sakura mentally shouted, head whipping his way. She heard the female interrogator laughing under her breath.
"C'mon. It's my fault. I keep holding it a bit too long," said Suigetsu, digging in his ear with a pinky. "Madara will be pissed if she dies, and I don't wanna end up in her seat. So help me out!"
Sasuke, we made a deal!
Suigetsu added, "Otherwise, I'll tell him you were here and refused to revive her when he punishes me."
"Tch." Finger laced with lightning, Sasuke touched it to the middle of Ino's chest.
Its effect was immediate. Ino gasped awake and gagged water in the same breath, throwing up liquid onto her soaked lap.
"Thanks, bossman. You're always so thoughtful!"
"Stop wasting everyone's time, Suigetsu. Do it properly or leave," Sasuke growled as he turned on his heel. "Don't call me back in today. I won't do this a third time."
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Sakura stared apathetically at the white blob as Orochimaru sliced it apart. Despite her being dressed in fur-lined clothing, the lab was penetratingly chilly. Shivering, she wondered how Orochimaru was so nonplussed in his thin, white medical coat.
Then she remembered he had chakra. And she didn't.
"Think of these blue parts as fault lines." Orochimaru pushed the scalpel into the mass and cut using one of the blue veins as a guide. "I've concluded that they're Hashirama's cells grouping and condensing together, separating themselves from the host cells." The piece he worked on jiggled apart into two as he severed their last connection. "The white part is almost entirely Madara's cells, though some of the Firsts' remain mixed within it."
He'd started explaining his method of fixing Madara's parts three visits ago without ever saying why, and Sakura hadn't bothered to ask. Most of the time, she barely bothered to speak.
For the past three weeks, she'd been ruthlessly interrogated. At least every other day, sometimes consecutively. True to his word, Sasuke stood outside the interrogation room each time, commanding her answers and manipulating their seal to cover some of the pain. Although Ino was there more often than not, taking the torture that should've been Sakura's.
Two weeks ago, she'd instructed him not to command her answers when they focused on punishing Ino. The seal couldn't do anything about mental torment, anyway. She didn't need him dosing her brain for compliance when there wasn't any physical pain to overcome.
Orochimaru fetched her for these strange, unwanted lessons on days her interrogators granted her a reprieve. He showed her around the lab. Explained his system of storage. Numbered his sealing scrolls by which ones held which things and outlined his usage for each. He'd moved the single upholstered chair from the corner of the room to the operating table's side, forcing her to sit close as he worked.
"I still haven't figured out why they're segregating themselves, nor the reason they do so in such a pattern. Nearly identical to a circulatory system, isn't it?"
She nodded, numb. If she didn't respond to him for too long, she'd learned the Sannin would either repeat himself until she did or begin rudely diagnosing her mental state and all the reasons for it.
"What do you think the issue is, Sakura Haruno?"
"His existence," she intoned.
Orochimaru paused—then smirked. "So you have been listening. If that's your position, then you think there's no solution?"
Shrugging, Sakura slouched further in the chair, allowing her mind to zone back out. She watched Orochimaru slice out the blue veins and toss them in a liquid-filled jar as if experiencing a dream.
Things were easier this way—letting events continue on around her without thinking too much about them as they passed by. Letting Orochimaru perform his experiments. Letting the interrogators ask their questions. Letting Sasuke escort her to and fro. Merely existing in the universe as a part. Dust.
The world turned. Sakura turned with it. There was no hope in struggling.
Orochimaru tapped the jar now filled with the strings of Hashirama's cells. "It's a draught similar to the calming one I brew for you. Fewer sedatives and more restorative components. Let them soak for five to seven days and they lose their coloring. From there, they can be reintroduced to Madara's cells like new." She nodded again, looking at Orochimaru's operating table but seeing nothing. "The recipe for it is in the lab logs. Dated about fifteen months ago. December six."
"Mm."
The Sannin placed the jar in a cabinet near the desk. "In that state, Madara's cells don't need to be preserved with any special care. I typically seal them away until it's time to merge them together." In a demonstration, he laid a sealing scroll beside the dissected mass and all its blobs disappeared into it. "Though, as I've said before, this is only a temporary fix. Hashirama's cells will condense in the same manner soon after Madara reintroduces this portion to his body."
His words flew in one ear and out the other as Sakura eyed the scalpel he'd left near her side of the operating table. An instrument she was intimately familiar with—a weapon she knew how to use mortally in a hundred different places.
How long would it take Orochimaru to notice its absence? With no chakra, could she manage to take it without him noticing? Could she cut somewhere lethal without the seal alerting Sasuke?
Could she lose enough blood before he noticed?
"What are you thinking about, Sakura Haruno?"
Blinking, the room fell back upon her. Ino's still here, she reminded herself.
She decided on a half-truth. "The seal."
"A valuable tool, isn't it?" Orochimaru flipped the desk chair around to face her and sat. "You're welcome. Alas, I admit that I never considered this particular outcome when I devised the original plan. You turned out to be a wildly fascinating girl. I can see why my dear teammate held such affection for you."
The Hokage's memory held her in the moment for two seconds. And then the world turned, and Sakura turned with it.
"What you call a tool, I'd call a chain."
"A chain is also a tool."
"Only to the one who isn't wearing it."
Orochimaru grinned. "Even the wearer can use their chains. In the end, a tool is but a tool. But anyway, on to more pressing issues." He crossed his legs. "I've heard Madara isn't pleased with the progress of your interrogations."
Mention of them sent a sick chill over her skin. Pain ghosted through her body. Images of Ino bloody, lifeless, and mutilated assaulted her mind.
Sakura gulped down a wave of nausea as she tucked her shaking hands under her thighs. "...Do you intend to interrogate me, too?"
"No. I'm merely passing along information. Our great leader is growing impatient."
"And?"
"And I suspect we'll be hearing from him soon."
After so much time spent listening to the Sannin prattle on and riddle his words, she could hear his subtle warning. "How soon?"
"Hmm, perhaps a week?" Resting his elbow on the desk beside him, Orochimaru propped his chin in his palm. "But who's to say?"
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Tears streamed down her face, her throat hoarse from screaming. Flames licked the bottom of her feet; her body jerked against the ropes that kept her and Ino tied to the same post, backs to one another, over a fire the male interrogator controlled. Ino gripped her hands and sobbed.
Breathe. It'll end soon.
"How many safe locations did Konoha have in Fire Country?"
Say that you don't know.
"I—don't—kno—AH!" The words deformed into a howl as the flame engulfed her feet. Ino's scream nearly burst her eardrums.
This was the eleventh time. The eleventh time. The room smelled of burnt flesh and boiling blood. It felt like they'd been tied here on fire for days. She could barely remember existing outside of this place.
Two gifted healers stood in the corner of the room, silent and stoic. Unmasked, watching the women burning at the stake without so much as a flinch. Triangle-mask fueled the flames up their bodies inch by inch, careful never to go above the last rib. Carefully monitoring that neither woman died.
And once their lower halves were husks of charred human, he'd release the fire jutsu and order the healers to repair them. Then he'd start again.
At times in the war, she felt she'd truly fallen into Hell.
She'd been horribly mistaken.
All those battles were merely Hell's gates. Hell was this room—the stake on her back, scalding metal holding her to it, her friend's screams in her ears. Orange and blue flames writhing up her body hour after hour. Time after time. Burning and healing in an endless cycle.
She begged the Gods to let her and Ino die in between chokes.
"Where would Konoha hide the jinchuriki's body?"
You don't know.
"I don't—" The flames jumped up her ankle. "Stop this! I can't—" she sobbed.
"We'll stop as soon as you give us answers, medic," said Kaori. "So? Where's the jinchuriki's body?"
Sakura bit her tongue so hard that her teeth sunk into it. She felt nothing. Thick liquid filled her mouth, metallic and hot.
Just stop answering, Sasuke commanded after a pause. Go somewhere else.
Her feet were gone to her. Hell burned up her calves. Her friend shrieked in agony. She should've been dead. Should've died hours ago. She should've never existed at all.
She didn't have the mind to form a thought back—to ask what he meant. But he must've felt her confusion under all the pain, anyway, because he answered—
Think of Konoha's forests. Be there.
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A knock on the bedroom door was followed by a muffled, "I'm coming in."
Back to the entrance, Sakura didn't turn when the door creaked open.
She'd been laying in bed staring at the wall flowers for what must've been hours, mind medicinally blank. Chest heavy with an emotion she couldn't touch. Thinking of nothing except the shape of the rock and its color and the damp smell of the room and the crisp bite of the air. Tangible things. Things she'd seen dozens of times—things that simply were, didn't need to be understood to know.
The metal food tray landed on the desk's stone tabletop with a clink. "It's pork chops and veggies tonight," said Suigetsu.
She had nothing to say to him, so she stayed as still and quiet as she'd been since Sasuke brought her back from today's questioning. Ino hadn't been there.
The interrogators had experimented on her with acid.
"Hey, no hard feelings about the other week, right? It's not like I could say no when they asked me to help. Those two suck with Water Release."
That was true enough. He'd do whatever Madara's men asked of him. She'd known it all along. It wasn't like she was upset with him. He'd been an enemy from the start—that she'd let herself momentarily think of him as something different, once again, wasn't his fault. That was probably his job, after all.
Get close to her. Get her talking. Another sort of interrogation.
Her eyes followed the scratchings of a sunflower stem.
She hadn't seen a real flower in months. Hadn't felt the sun since Earth Country. How long had she been here? Six weeks? Seven?
"I meant to come by sooner, but Madara's got most of us running around lately." His voice moved to Sasuke's side of the room, air on her back shifting as he sat. A second metal tray tapped down on stone. "I check in on the base they keep your friend a few times a week. Seems like they're treating her fine. She's got a better bed than yours, even."
"...Who guards her?" she questioned.
"Sasuke's put a few kunoichi there. Why? You worried about her getting raped?"
Sakura's jaw tightened at his brashness. How was anyone supposed to respond to that? Obviously that's why she asked, but she didn't want to delve into that sort of discussion with Suigetsu—a man with the tact of a toddler and the emotional intelligence of a stag beetle.
After several minutes of silence, he tapped his spoon on the tray. "Oi, get up and eat. It's actually pretty tasty."
She wasn't hungry. But there was medicine in the food that kept the sensations weighing on her heart nameless and her mind gently present. A draught drugging her enough that she wasn't going insane.
And she needed it. She needed it like she needed air. Could feel the craving for it already itching up her throat.
So Sakura hauled herself up, slunk into the desk chair, and ate.
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Orochimaru's prediction came true eight days after his warning.
Sasuke flew into the bedroom that afternoon, more disheveled than she was used to seeing him, ordering her to quickly change into the grey garb of their servants—if she wanted. Once dressed, he silently escorted her down the familiar route to the lab.
If she hadn't already had an idea, the way shinobi and servants scrambled through the halls, barely noticing Sasuke as they passed, would've given it away.
It wasn't until they were outside the lab's door that he mentally whispered, Madara's come to discuss your progress. Stay quiet and let Orochimaru and I handle it. And then, without giving her any time to prepare, he pushed the door open and shoved her into the room.
Orochimaru and Madara huddled over the operating table as the Sannin pointed to a report laid between them. Arms crossed, Madara studied the paper, lips thin in irritation. Both men turned their attention to her as she stumbled in, just barely catching herself from kissing the floor.
"Ah, there you are. We were worried you two got lost," said Orochimaru with a smile.
Though she kept her sights on the ground, she felt Madara's gaze sweep over her body. "Is she being questioned as ordered? Why does she lack the look of a prisoner?"
"We've decided to have her healed after her sessions. That way the interrogations can last longer and happen more frequently," answered the Sannin. "The goal, as we've discussed before, is to strengthen their link to the point that Sasuke can remove her suppressors and she'll conduct healing herself while still remaining compliant. Not to mention that our dear Sasuke would suffer from their seal if she were left in a prolonged state of injury. No one wants that, of course."
"How frequent?"
Sasuke moved past her to join the men around the table. "Three to five times a week."
"Sit, prisoner." Orochimaru pointed to the upholstered chair, now back in its spot in the corner. "And don't touch anything."
Madara's stare was heavy on her shoulders until she fell into the cushions. When its weight drifted away a moment later, she risked a glance up. The Uchiha patriarch wore a strange, ornate red robe that couldn't hide how he favored his left side. Back to her, his family's crest peeked out from under his long hair.
Sasuke and Orochimaru were on the side facing her, neither sparing her a look. The Sannin's shoulders were relaxed, lips tilted in a way that would've appeared pleasant on another's face, while his student stood stiff at his side with a glower. She hadn't witnessed many interactions between progeny and ancestor, but from what little she'd been privy to, the two seemed hardly fond of one another.
Her brows furrowed as she analyzed the subtle expression Sasuke was trying to smooth into nothing. What enticed him to join someone he so clearly disdained in the first place? What made him stay? His actions made even less sense when she factored in this new realization.
Had he…been telling the truth about hating Madara?
Madara nodded down at the table. "This report indicates the interrogators have been unsuccessful in getting any information from her. Is that right, Sasuke?"
"It's as the report says."
"Why haven't you removed them and switched in new interrogators?"
"You sent me those two, so I'm using them. I'm doing as instructed." Sasuke met Madara's gaze. "But the next time you're wrong, I'll take this conversation as permission to do as I like."
Madara chuckled. "An impudent little thing you are, though I can't blame you. Konoha left you without family to teach you any manners, so what can we expect?"
Choking on air, Sakura sputtered as three sights shifted to her. She'd never heard anyone say something like that to Sasuke. Anger boiled in her belly, muted and dull—even if she and Sasuke weren't friends, she couldn't help but feel vindictive on his behalf over such flippantly cruel words. From someone who shared the same blood, no less.
I said to stay quiet, Sasuke warned.
Eyes watering, she gulped on her burning throat, holding in the coughs. Her neck warmed as the seal dosed her brain for the obedience.
"Send the base new interrogators and we'll...relieve the two she's currently assigned," said Orochimaru, pulling the conversation back to the table and away from familial bickering. "But as far as I'm aware, the other interrogations aren't faring any better. It may not be an issue with the interrogators so much as the loyalty many high-ranking Allies have to their Kage and army. Konoha shinobi are a particularly loyal breed, as we're all intimately aware."
"Some interrogations are going better than others, yes," Madara agreed.
"It's been less than three months since the war ended. Less than two since we began working on her. Sakura Haruno was the highest-ranking medic in their army. It will take time to break her."
"That may be so. But the longer it takes, the further the roaches dig down in hiding—that's what I'd like to discuss today." Brushing the report aside, Madara pulled another scroll from under his robes and spread it across the table. "In the next few weeks, we'll be moving the more difficult captives out of hiding and into a more visible role, including the medic."
"A visible role in what sense?" asked Sasuke.
"You or Orochimaru will escort her to various bases above ground. Display her to the troops there, give them a bit of a morale boost. Whispers are spreading that the Allied captives are dead, even among our own people. In one sense this is a good thing, as it proves no leaks are coming from the bases I've chosen to house the important catches. But there's no advantage in keeping them if everyone believes them dead. These movements will show the world some are still alive. It might even encourage the Allies to think I'm growing more confident and less careful if I treat the visits like spectacles. If you all treat them as such in my absence."
Sasuke's brow rose a fraction. "You think they'll stage a rescue."
"Precisely. If I can't hunt them down, I'll lure them out. At least until I pry their whereabouts out of these shinobi."
Sakura's stomach dropped. Depending on who was still alive and who'd taken over leadership of the remaining armies, Madara's hunch wasn't bad.
The death of a few friends made the living ones more precious. Too precious—enough to break someone. Enough that there were many in the Allied power structure who'd risk attempting a breakout of their captured loved one if the opportunity presented itself.
"Wonderful plan," commended Orochimaru, vision roving over the new scroll. "But since I can't leave my lab for long bouts of time, Sasuke will have to take the lead on these escorting missions."
"I've my own missions," Sasuke snapped.
"Suigetsu appears to be handling his added responsibilities well. I'm certain he could take on a few more to free up your schedule. And anyway—" Orochimaru sent her a sly grin. "You two are sealed. You're the best man for the job."
"Sealed or not—"
Madara held his hand up, hushing the younger Uchiha. "Orochimaru makes a fair point. You'll accompany the medic, Sasuke."
Scowling, Sasuke rebuked, "Ridiculous. I'm not a chaperone."
Sakura tried not to think. Tried not to let anything cross her mind too loudly that he might hear. But as Sasuke pouted and resisted being assigned as her guard, she couldn't help but hope he failed.
They weren't friends—and he was still…one of the worst men alive. But he and his two minions were the only people she had any leverage over in this damned base, and she didn't want to imagine what might happen during her travels if she were placed under the care of an enemy stranger whom she'd no bargaining chip to play for safety.
"Should she attempt to run or somehow someone manages to steal her away, it'll be easiest for you to track her down," the Sannin explained. "If we send her with someone else, we'd have to assign an entire squad. This way is more efficient. "
"Speaking of the seal's benefits," Madara cut in. "I recall they used to say sealed marriage partners could read one another's thoughts. Is this true, Orochimaru?"
Having lowered her walls around the seal once they'd entered the room to better hear his directives, she felt Sasuke's interest pique through it.
"To an extent. Theoretically, if both partners are open to it and willing, they can share thoughts and feelings between them. Literature on the seals suggests that a strong enough connection could even permit some form of mind reading. But all the writing confirms that it's impossible if one party opposes the other."
Sakura turned that information over in her mind. It was true the seal allowed them to share things to an extent—but the rest of Orochimaru's explanation…?
Never trust half of what a snake says, came Sasuke's opinion a second later.
"Are you able to read her thoughts, Sasuke?" Madara inquired.
Sakura stared at the floor, careful not to flinch, as he scoffed loudly.
"Of course not. At most, I feel if she's in pain after a few hours of torture."
A lie. Sasuke was lying.
He was lying to Madara about their seal, and Sakura was trying her hardest not to let her brain run rampant with that fact.
It didn't matter. It didn't matter because everything he did was for himself. It didn't matter because she hated him, and he hated her, and they weren't friends. They'd never been friends. And this didn't matter.
"Well. That's a problem now, isn't it, nephew? You've had three months to get close to her."
"Get close?" Sasuke rested a hand on his hip, flippant. "You forced this seal on me so I wouldn't kill her."
"I have a suggestion, if I may?" Orochimaru interrupted.
"Go on."
"There's an easy way to form and strengthen a connection between a man and a woman. In this context, given enough time, the initial shock of it should wear down into some sort of affection."
It took Sakura two breaths to put meaning behind Orochimaru's words.
Sasuke understood in the same instant. "Absolutely not. No."
"Sexual relations would form the correct connection for him to read her thoughts?" Madara pondered, glancing at Sakura over his shoulder. Her eyes fell back to her knees, praying the man hadn't seen the pink dusting on her cheeks.
"Potentially. There's no harm in trying."
"No. I refuse. This is all speculation, anyway."
"Sasuke, she's a beautiful kunoichi." Madara hadn't looked away from her yet. "I'm sure it won't be as bad as you imagine. Once you've gotten used to a woman, you find they offer many unknown comforts. Or, could it be that you prefer—"
"I don't view her as a woman. She's a Konoha shinobi sentenced to death. I'm not interested in seeing her alive, let alone in my bed."
His words stung Sakura more than they should—for someone who didn't care. For someone who agreed that that would absolutely not be happening. Not with Sasuke Uchiha, a traitor whom she despised and no longer loved.
Madara finally redirected his attention to Sasuke. "You've got your orders. You'll do as I say."
"I will not."
"You will." Gathering the scroll in his hands, Madara rolled it up and slid it back into his sleeve. "Otherwise, I'll have her sealed to your Hozuki follower, and you and I will pick back up where we left off in Lightning. When your dear shishou offered you this seal to keep your life. If you're no longer attached to that life, then I'll gladly end it for you and allow someone more willing to take your place."
have a wonderful week!
.
thanks for reading, as always.
and thanks to Leech for beta-reading