It could have been an hour.
Could've been three, or twelve.
Konan woke up, still in the back of the van. It was dark outside, still. Every so often, a blurry glow lit the van as they passed a streetlight. Too infrequently to be in the city. She was slumped diagonally on the seat, her forehead pressed against the tinted window, the glass cool on her skin.
She blinked a few times, got her bearings – as well as she was able. The stiff collar of the bulletproof vest was cutting into her. She shifted upright, slowly. The painkillers she had been on were wearing off, for sure. She felt aches in various tender places over her body, a deeper pain on her bandaged wrist, where she supposed the IV drip had been.
Her brain was still foggy, but was catching up – her breath caught in her chest as she remembered, in flashes, Ino in a white coat; cold tiles under her bare feet; dark hallways; sudden bangs, sharp in the darkness; white heat grazing past her shoulder as she ran. As the memories crashed into the present, she found herself drawing sharper and faster breaths through her nostrils, looking around. She bit her lips to quiet herself, could hardly hear her own thoughts over the ramming beat of her heart.
She was in the van. The van Ino had told her to run for. And who was driving…? Her gaze cut swiftly to the rear-view mirror. She remembered a voice, one she didn't know… As quietly as she could, she shifted to the right, trying to catch more of his face in the mirror without alerting him that she was conscious…
"You're awake."
She glimpsed dark eyes, crows feet. The rest of his face was hidden by a black balaclava. This didn't inspire much confidence. His voice was hoarse, not unfriendly. She didn't trust that. She couldn't trust anything anymore.
She tried to speak, but her voice was a dry croak, barely audible. She cleared her throat, tried again.
"Who are you? Where are you taking me?"
"Unzip the case on the seat. There's nutritional supplement drinks, a thermos of tea." The man jerked a gloved thumb backwards. "I'd start with the supplements. You've been on drip feeding for a long time."
Konan looked around. There was a cube satchel to her right on the leather bench seat. Warily, not taking her eyes off the back of the driver's head, she reached out, grabbed its carry handle, and slid it across the seat towards her. She tugged the zip around, flipped the lid, and grabbed what felt like a juice box. Ensure Nutritional Supplement Drink. Old-people-in-hospital-juice. She inspected the seal – still in place. Realizing how thirsty she was, she took the risk, stabbed the straw in, drank – and gagged. It tasted like powdered strawberry-flavoured cereal dust, but wet, and worse. Ew. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, and put it back in the case.
"You need energy. You should drink it."
She caught a note of amusement in the driver's voice. She scowled at him, but picked the Ensure up again. It was disgusting, but if she had to fight, or run... She scrunched up her face and took another gulp.
"You didn't answer my question," she said after, wiping her mouth. She leaned sideways, trying to see a dash clock, but the driver's shoulder was blocking it.
"There is a blanket in that case. Supplies. A change of clothes. Don't want you getting cold." No answer to her question, again.
Konan narrowed her eyes. She turned her head, hoping to see the second van behind them, maybe see Ino in the passenger seat – but the back window was completely opaque.
"Just tell me." She raised her voice, hands curling into shaking fists. "Tell me right now! Who are you? Where are you taking me?"
"You'll want to put on the change of clothes."
"I said, where are you taking me!?"
He didn't reply. She kicked the back of his seat. Like a fucking child. She didn't care.
His eyes cut to hers in the rearview. His, dark and narrowed. Hers wide, unapologetic, pissed as hell.
"I know you're tired," he said. "You're uncomfortable. It's a long drive. But you need to listen, and do as I say."
"No! Shut up! Stop pretending to care about me! Do you work for Madara Uchiha? Do you know where my baby is? TELL ME! TELL ME RIGHT FUCKING NOW!" she screamed.
It felt like all the confusion and anger and pain was hardening inside her, burning like white hot metal. If it wasn't one fucking thing it was another. Her agency had been taken from her, over, and over, and over again. She was sick of it.
The driver didn't slow down. Didn't stop. His black eyes held her amber ones in the rearview. "Change your clothes," he said firmly, but there was a softer note in his voice. His eyes said trust me.
Konan clenched her jaw, glaring at him. As if. Her hands tightened on the long shoulder strap of the case. She could wrap it around his neck from behind the seat. Cut off his airway, asphyxiate him. He couldn't stop her, couldn't get to her unless he had quick reflexes, and a gun... But could she get control of the van quick enough to avoid a crash?
Holding that thought for later, not taking her eyes off him for a second, she reached sideways until her fingers met soft fabric. A blanket. She chucked it to the floor. She was cold – her bare feet were numb and burning – but she didn't want him to know he was right. The dark, thick fabric could be helpful to cover a body, if she needed to though… She reached sideways again and grasped the strap of a tote bag. She dumped the contents on her lap.
First to fall out was a ziploc bag. Inside was a packet of panty liners. A tub of shea butter. A heating pad. A booklet titled "The Postpartum Mum: Getting Back to You".
Konan closed her eyes, biting her lips together so hard she tasted copper. A trembling hitch in her breathing as she shut it down – everything – because fuck them. Fuck whoever's sick idea it was to give her that. The word 'Mum' blazed in the dark of her shut eyelids, like the word had burned onto her retinas. She shoved them away, looking at anything, everything else to distract her.
A pair of black socks, black gloves, black running shoes, new cotton panties and bra (Konan snorted – should she take this as a thoughtful gesture, or a threatening one?), a black balaclava, a baggy black hoodie, and a soft, oversized black t-shirt.
"You should put that on, before we reach our destination," the driver said, his eyes back on the highway. "Over this, of course." He gestured at the top of his own bulletproof vest.
Konan barely registered that he was talking. She was fingering the t-shirt, lips parted. She brought it up to her face slowly, holding it gentle, like a butterfly. As though with a second's sharp movement or too-tight grip, it would disappear. Her eyes fluttered shut as she inhaled, breathing in its scent. She didn't notice the tears pooling between her lashes until she opened her eyes again and they spilled out, falling onto the folds of the fabric.
Pain's shirt. The faded Bikini Kill t-shirt he wore to bed most nights. The tattered collar, the holes in the armpits. She buried her nose deeper, breathing in. It was clean, smelling of fresh laundry. But beneath that, she could smell him. His white musk deodorant. The wood smoke, soft skin, sunny afternoon beauty of him. And she could see him wearing it. Snapshots of memory coming alive.
Curled around her, in bed at dad's place, his long arm curved over her belly, his face buried in her hair. Smiling at her, head propped on his hand, lying on the fold-out bed in Deidara and Sasori's cabin at Christmas. Yawning, a mug of black coffee in his hand, offering her one too, back in the boy's dorm. Before he was hers. Before 'Andromeda'. Before any of it.
She couldn't take it. After the first mind-numb moments of total incomprehension, where all she could do was hold it and cry, silent from shock, an enormous wave of terror rose up inside, crashed against another sudden wave of confusion. It felt like her chest was caving in with questions, with the implications.
How did they get this? Why did they give it to me? Is he okay? God, please… please let him be… If he is.. did he send this to me? Did he send Ino to me, and the vans? If he did… where is he? Where are the others? If not… Madara knows him. Could find him, could have taken him. He could have taken the shirt, given it to me to give me hope, to torture me. But then, Pain is…
She thought her heart would break. Literally tear apart right then inside of her. The driver had noticed her ragged breathing, her stifled moan.
He snapped his fingers to get her attention. Her eyes flickered up dully. He pulled up his balaclava for just a second – showing a black goatee, a scar on his cheek – and mouthed silently in the mirror so she could see: LOOK IN THE POCKETS.
Konan obeyed. Her right hand dug clumsily through the clothes, her left keeping Pain's shirt held to her cheek. She closed her eyes, breathed in and out slowly. She couldn't lose focus, but the apathy that had gripped her back in the hospital room was threatening to consume her again. If Pain was dead… he couldn't be… but if he was, and this was a horrible joke to twist the knife in further… She couldn't take it. She just couldn't lose any more than she had already.
Her fingers closed around a cold, metal chain curled inside the pocket of the black sweatpants. She pulled it out and held it to the window, trying to catch it in the blurry light of a streetlamp.
It was a delicate silver necklace. Dangling from it was an origami flower charm. Her necklace. The one Pain had made for her. His gift for her, that first Christmas. She wore it everywhere… She touched a hand to her neck, actually confused why it wasn't there, against her throat, as she fought to remember through the impenetrable fog of the last two months…
That day…
Her wrist seized, twisted up behind her back, making her cry out. A gloved hand slapping against her mouth, muffling the sound. Panic. Her teeth biting down on the hand, her shoulders struggling to throw the assailant off.
"Damn! Can somebody put this bitch to sleep already!?"
Another hand coming from behind, seizing her hair and pulling so hard she thought it would rip from her scalp. Tears bursting from the corners of her eyes as she bit down harder on the gloved fingers. A groaning, wet crunch, a scream of pain from behind her. A punch to her temple that jerked her head sideways, stars popping in her eyes. A trickle of hot blood seeping through her hair above her left ear. Her head yanked up again by the fist gripping her hair. Madara's waxy face swam before her. His smile, those small yellow teeth. He was holding a syringe. Konan struggled harder, feeling the roots of her hair screaming in protest, the arm twisted behind her making her gasp in pain as it was pulled higher. An arm crossed over her throat, pressing on her windpipe. She choked. Madara's eyes traveled down her body.
"I need an injection point. Remove this."
A gloved hand reaching out. Konan's vision blurring, going dark at the edges as she struggled to breathe. The hand at the neck of her sweater, ripping down. A hard, digging, metal pain – and then release. Her necklace was torn off along with the top of her dress. One syringe inserted into her held arm. Another plunging into the top of her swollen belly.
No…
A sweet-smelling compress held over her face just as the arm around her throat released and she automatically gasped for air.
Then darkness.
Then flashes, blurred faces, bright lights.
Cold air on her bare legs. Her underwear was gone. She was lying down on hard plastic.
"Let me text him, let me tell him," she mumbled. Finding she had a voice she repeated it, louder. "Let me, let me, and then I promise, I'll be good, I promise. Let me tell him…"
A contraction. Her words blurring into screams. Masked nurses talking urgently.
"Her heart rate is too high, it's erratic, she's at risk…"
"...myocardial infarction…"
"...risk a sedative? It's not advisable…"
A gloved, cold hand taking hold of her jaw as she panted, groaned. She tried to toss her head. Her whole body was shaking, writhing. She arched her back with the pain.
"You can send one message. The last one. Then you will be a good girl. And you will comply," Madara smirked.
Konan spat at him. He wiped a latex-gloved finger along his upper cheek, catching the saliva on his index.
"Don't waste the product," he tutted. He made a small wave. Wiped the spit on the rim of a test tube he was promptly handed by a masked nurse. Capped it and put it in his pocket. His cold eyes fell back down to her.
"You have been spoiled rotten, haven't you? Such disgusting manners. But I will break you," he said grimly, showing his teeth. He grabbed Konan's jaw, his grip painfully tight. He smoothed a thumb across her cheek as she panted with pain and rage. "This is your last fight. And this is the last kindness I extend to you."
He handed her a phone, her phone, open to a conversation with Pain.
"Is this really him?" Konan gasped. "Will it work?"
Madara's face gave nothing away. A cry of frustration burst from Konan, melding into a moan of pain. She was being wheeled down a fluorescent white hallway. A nurse was fastening straps around her ankles. She closed her eyes tightly, tears leaking into her hair as she cried, holding the phone to her chest.
"Don't waste my time," Madara said coldly, keeping pace with the rolling gurney.
Konan lifted the phone. Read the most recent conversation.
'Good luck on your exam! You're so smart! Kick ass for me! Defend my honor!'
'Haha thanks. Defend your honor?'
'I'm not there to prove how smart I am! Prove it for both of us! I'm sending all my knowledge to you telepathically. You better do well, or I'll be really embarrassed…'
'Ahaha okay. I promise I won't let u down. You feeling ok?'
'Yeah. Couple aches, but mostly fine. My feet hurt, but that's not new haha.'
'Aw. Text me if anything happens, ok?'
'Ok. 3 Good luck!'
After that, there was one sent message, no incoming. There was hardly room in her brain for anything else, but she still felt a wave of disgust and hatred at the message Madara had sent.
'My sweetie's a little upset with me just now, I'm afraid, so I'm doing this to make her happy. She's under just a little bit of stress, as I'm sure you know. I'll give her back her phone to text you in a minute, I just wanted you to know that she's safe and sound, and that I will personally see to it that you don't get near her again. Good luck on your term paper, Deva.'
Even seeing her last conversation there, plain as day, she didn't believe Madara that this really was Pain. That her phone still had its SIM card, or whatever. That this wasn't an elaborate fake. That Pain would ever read this.
She couldn't bring herself to type anything she wanted to – I love you, I'll love you forever, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry I won't see you grow up, and live my life alongside you. I won't see you get your favourite job, find a place you love, travel all the places we talked about. Tell the others I love them, thank you for being my friends. Thank you for loving me. I'll see you one day, I promise. I'm sorry you won't meet our baby. I'm sorry I won't get to see who he looks like. I'm scared. I wish you were here. But I'm glad you're not, I'm glad you're safe. Please stay that way, don't come to look for me. I love you, I love you, I love you.
She held it all in, like she was fighting not to throw up. She left out the fear. The despair. She didn't want Madara to know that she believed him when he said that she would never leave this place. She didn't want him to have the satisfaction of knowing she had no hope. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but couldn't deny the weight of terrified, dull acceptance in her chest. She wouldn't stop fighting, but there was no end of the tunnel she could see. Her thumbs drifted across the keyboard, leaving sweaty smears on the screen.
'I'll be ok. I promise.'
Konan gripped the phone, her head tilting back, neck straining as another contraction started. It felt like she was about to rip apart, her muscles spasming and trembling. The nurses muttered over her. When the wave crashed over, finished, leaving her trembling and panting, an arrow of pure terror seemed to pierce through, giving her clarity – the baby.
"What are you going to do with him? My baby?" she gasped.
She grabbed Madara's sleeve. He glanced down at her.
"It's Pain's baby, his daughter. Take me, keep me, but give him the baby. Do whatever you want, I'll stay, but just let him go, give him to his dad."
Madara said nothing. His eyes on her were cold, dead, amused.
"And why would I do that?" he asked. "Very messy. This unfortunate connection with that undesirable ends today."
"The baby…" Konan's eyes fell to her stretched stomach. The last place her daughter would be safe? "You said it was… tainted. It's not pure, not like me. You don't need him! Give him to Pain, please!"
"Tainted or not, it's a useful specimen. Now," he clicked his fingers at her. "My patience runs out. This text is me being generous. You will not find me so again."
Konan's breathing was sharper, shallower. The beeping around her had increased. They were reaching a delivery room… She lifted the phone again, her thumbs flying across the screen, deleting her pathetic message, typing a new one.
'Contractions started, he's going to take the baby. Please, please come- it's hard to be badass when you're in labour. Pain.. please, I'm really scared.'
"Good," Madara said, baring his teeth. He snatched the phone from her. "And now, Andromeda, it is time to expel that mongrel. Once you're cleaned up, back to an acceptable condition, your new purpose shall begin."
Straps wrapped around her wrists, pulling them upwards by her head. She started to cry in earnest. Another contraction wracked her body.
She faded away…
—-
Back in the van, Konan's eyes came back into focus. There was a stabbing pain in her hand, which was clenched into a tight fist over the necklace. She opened her hand. Her palm had deep red marks dug into it from the metal edges of the origami flower.
"Why do you have this? Why do you have any of it?" She asked the driver in a flat voice. He didn't reply.
She turned over the necklace. Saw the engraving on the back. I love you. And the little button. She pressed it, smiled when the tiny USB stick clicked out. Pain had put photos and home movies on it, moments where they were having fun with the others, laughing, singing, dancing…
Movement from the driver caught her eye. His arm reached back towards her. She flinched, looking for a gun, knife, syringe – but he was holding a tablet in his gloved hand. She took it from him. Something clicked – maybe, maybe, this could be what she was meant to do? She inserted the USB into it, turned it on. It was asking for a password.
"What's–?" She started to ask, but the driver snapped his fingers again and pressed a finger to his mouth, shushing her. She glared at him. What the hell is going on?
She gazed down at the tablet. At the necklace in her hand. Typed 'ILOVE' on the number pad: 45683. It unlocked, showing a home screen, blank except for three icons. The first was a document, labeled "FIRST.' A movie file, labeled 'SECOND.' A file folder labeled 'THIRD.' A cough from the front. She glanced up just in time to catch an earbud case that flew towards her. Forgetting her annoyance and confusion, she opened it at once and put them in. They paired automatically with the tablet.
She opened the document. A white page filled the screen. It was letterhead – at the top was an old-fashioned woodcut logo that Konan didn't recognize. A boar, a deer, and a butterfly held in a delicate circle. Beneath, in elegant lettering: InoShikaCho Foundation. She filed the name away for later, and read.
Konan,
Firstly, we are relieved to have found you and successfully extracted you from where you were being held captive. Locating you and ensuring your recovery has been our key priority for many weeks. You were being kept in one of Madara Uchiha's facilities, which is disguised as an operational, perfectly legitimate private cosmetic surgery facility in South Korea.
Our organization has been investigating Madara Uchiha's criminal enterprise for decades, and we have been building up a network of spies within it over many years. He has several legitimate businesses which disguise his illegal dealings. Through his longtime work in bioweapon experimentation and gene editing, he came into contact with your father and his associates. He has shifted a large portion of his attention and funds onto the lucrative possibilities posed by the experiments conducted upon you by your father. The fact that the word about these experiments has spread globally, both in the high-ranking criminal underworld and in the highest tiers of the 'legitimate' business world, and the fact that your father's research has been destroyed and all associates terminated, has allowed him to set up the facility you were held in, where your genetic material was being harvested and sold. We have found no evidence that anything other than this harvesting was taking place, as yet.
Uchiha hosted a secret conference this week in Cairo with the highest global bidders. It was considered the safest time to attempt an extraction, as security is tightest when he himself is in residence. Additionally, as you will appreciate, once this bidding conference had ended, your situation may have drastically changed. We are relieved, again, that the rescue has so far gone according to plan.
To answer questions you may have up until this point, and to fill you in on the basics before you reach your current destination:
1. Your driver is a top-level associate of our organization. Due to the importance of this mission, we would assign this task to no-one else. You are in safe hands.
2. Ino is one of our associates– my daughter. This is a family business. She was assigned to monitor your condition, and to interfere only when absolutely necessary to avoid raising suspicion. The vehicle she is in is taking a different route to your destination, to throw off any surveillance or pursuing vehicles.
3. Please do not say anything to the driver which could reveal sensitive information. An embedded tracking device was removed from your arm, and is currently with Ino. We have taken the utmost precautions with security, but given the high level of sophistication and wide reach of Madara Uchiha's surveillance capabilities, we cannot be too careful. We will conduct other sweeps at various stages of the journey.
4. Please change into the provided clothing to protect your identity. We will be conducting a vehicle swap before reaching the airport. A new disguise will be provided in the second vehicle, to avoid drawing suspicion. Your driver has a passport and ticket ready for you.
5. Your baby is safe.
Konan could barely breathe. She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle the moan of indescribable relief. She couldn't believe it was possible… The baby. Her daughter. He was alive. How big could he be now? He wouldn't know her… but he was alive. Alive. Safe. Tears spilled down her cheeks.
Once at the safe house, we will assess the situation. Our short-term and long-term plans for your safety, and for the arrest of Madara Uchiha and exposure of his criminal enterprise and associates, depends greatly on his response to your rescue. It is likely that he will attempt to recapture you. However, unfortunately, it is not impossible that he has already harvested enough genetic material from you that he will not need do so to finalize his plans. Without a doubt, these plans will be significantly delayed either way, which will cost him money, and possibly cost him the confidence of his investors and buyers. This will undoubtedly make him angry, desperate, and dangerous. More dangerous than he already is. Our organization will continue to protect you and your family. We will meet in person soon, when it is safe to do so.
We are relieved you are safe. Welcome back. I look forward to meeting you in person, when it is safe to do so.
Regards,
Inoichi Yamanaka.
Her hands shaking, mind reeling, she closed the document and clicked the video file, nose and mouth pressed into Pain's t-shirt to calm her, quiet her. She barely bothered guessing what the video would be, could hardly bear to be wrong, because her heart was thudding with the hope of it, the desperate need for it, for him. The movie player came up, a familiar face unpausing to speak. His voice soft in her ears.
"Hey. It's me."