It had been a week since the disappearance of Haruno Sakura, and the only thing that had changed in Konoha was that the entire village now knew about it. Older ninjas watched out for younger ones, who looked out for each other. Naruto and Sasuke were no longer the only kids sharing meals and getting walked home. Kurenai and Asuma seemed afraid to take their rookies out of the village at all, and Gai (whose team, like Kakashi's, was mostly orphans) hosted dinner at his apartment practically every night. Civilians, who had no particular reason to worry about their children getting snatched, were every bit as scared as the parents of ninjas, and had fewer reservations about showing it.

Kakashi felt like everyone he passed was either talking about him or about Sakura. She was the helpless child who had been stolen away, and he was the neglectful adult who had let it happen. Sometimes they were cast in harsher roles: Sakura as a body, lying broken in an unmarked grave after untold miseries, and Kakashi as the monster who had put her there, still walking boldly among the Good People until he could kill again. It was everything the Harunos had almost accused him of and worse, and he was keener than ever to get out of the village.

Worse still, his contacts had unearthed a rumour about a pink-haired girl in Lightning, who turned up suddenly, killed the lord of the region and his retainers, then disappeared as quickly as she had come. But the reports suggested this girl looked older than twelve, which made sense considering he couldn't picture the rookie genin who got scared of seeing her crush injured in the bell test massacring civilians.

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Sakura couldn't deny that she was getting older now.

Her tiny training bra, basically just a band of soft fabric with no padding or clasp, had to be cut open and extended with a lacing of her own hair. The hair itself had grown so long that her periodic marks had travelled halfway down her thigh, even though more than half of it was cut back to her shoulders from various trades. She knew it looked crazy, but she still couldn't bring herself to cut it all back and start fresh.

The worst part was that The Others had noticed her ageing.

"Reckon you're about sixteen, maybe even seventeen now," Jun had said once, blushing furiously. It was still odd to see a full-grown man act so much like a teenager himself, but she supposed he had little in the way of role models growing up Inside.

When she didn't say anything he dropped the subject, but she could feel his eyes on her whenever she spent time in the central zone.

The others were the same. Karin even said she looked gorgeous once, her scarlet eyes tracing a slow line up her body. Sakura hadn't realised until later that she was flirting, and had cringed at how naively she'd accepted the compliment. Again, Karin had dropped the matter when it was clear Sakura wasn't interested. It was a relief that nobody was pushing her, but it also left her feeling weirdly frustrated.

She had been taken out another four times, three of which seemed to be quite short stints. Possibly The Watcher was pulling her out for healing jobs, or possibly they just looked at her for a minute before putting her back. She was grateful not to have new injuries; but she was beginning to suspect she had become the favourite toy in the box, which probably wasn't a safe thing to be.

That being said, the withdrawals were useful for information gathering. Her system, though simplistic, was now showing signs of working. The second time she came back, her right palm had been punctured with a row of bloody half-moons: The Watcher wore a face covering. After that she'd tried mask or cloth hood/veil (mask), short or tall (tall, and a decent indication that they were male), and forehead protector (no).

When she returned the fifth time (hair colour: dark), Karin found her right away.

"There's something for you."

"What do you mean?" She'd asked, but Karin had simply run off, and Sakura had no choice but to follow.

The Others were clustered around a rock about fifty stones from the central zone, and when Sakura got closer she saw that there had been another drop. But instead of food, a single katana stood up out of the rock like someone had driven it in, and instead of fighting over it, the others seemed afraid to go near.

"It's yours," Chu-chan said, wooden mouth clacking ominously.

Sakura took a closer look: wrapped around the handle was a braided loop of her own hair.

The Watcher had never given a personal gift before. Sakura hesitated to take it, and was repulsed by the idea that her hair had been cut without her awareness. But The Others urged her, the fear in their eyes almost superstitious. Take it away from here, they seemed to be saying. Don't make The Watcher angry.

She could wield a sword as well as any of them by now, even though before the arrival of this katana there had only been two others, which they kept stored in the central zone and all took turns training with. Sakura would have been only too happy to add this one to the stockpile, but it was clear that nobody else would touch it. Not even Pinch tried to take it, even though it was in far better condition than the other two.

Karin had kindly donated a whole length of her hair to help tie the scabbard to Sakura's waist, and Sakura carried it diligently thereafter. But she couldn't shake the fear that it had been given to her because she had killed someone with it, or that she might receive more gifts in future.

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Sakura's hair was to her knees when she finally had sex.

It was with Jun of all people. She was bored, pent up, and tired of her slow death in captivity. Karin and The Others had been right: there weren't that many things to do or think about Inside.

Jun had been more than willing to take her up on her offer. She always thought her first time would be with Sasuke, but his enthusiasm reminded her more of Naruto. He seemed determined to make sure she enjoyed herself, probably so that he'd have a chance to do it again. But it was nice to feel taken care of for a while, and hurt far less than her sex ed classes had led her to believe. She turned to her medical knowledge for reassurance that hymens broke all the time without intercourse, especially for kunoichi. She hadn't noticed whenever it happened because fighting and pain were such a common part of her routine, it probably hadn't even registered at the time. She didn't let herself think about her missing days Outside.

Her second time was with Siren, who sang her a song about a pink-haired beauty and told her stories about her days as a genin in the Hidden Cloud. Sakura didn't think she was attracted to women – she'd never have what Karin and Naomi had with any of the Others, male or female – but sex was sex when your options were limited, and the women were all old friends by now. It made things easier to enjoy.

Karin had once again flirted with her, and this time Sakura understood what was being offered and took her up on it. Naomi had found out, and insisted on joining them both next time. She and Karin's sex lives had never been exclusive the way that their romantic lives seemed to be, but Karin's soft spot for Sakura had been a sore spot to Naomi ever since her arrival, and in any case Sakura didn't mind sharing time. It was a resource they had in abundance, after all.

The only person she never had sex with was Sensei. She'd offered once, partly bored and partly curious, but he laughed.

"Maybe when I was younger, I might have taken you up on that," he said. "But I'm an old man now."

"You're not an old man," she'd protested, but it was true that Sensei was now objectively past what most shinobi would consider their prime. His hair was more white than grey, and he rarely came to the central zone. Sakura had checked on him more than once to make sure he hadn't died.

"You know what I'd really love? A good book."

Sakura had groaned in agreement. There were no books at all Inside, only a few ninja manual scrolls that everybody had read so often than they were practically burned in their minds. A real book would be like a whole bag of candy, one that could be eaten over and over. "Maybe we can ask The Watcher to send some in," she'd said. It was a morbid joke, but Sensei indulged her.

"Tell them I'd love a medical textbook, then. Short of cutting someone open, I'm not sure I can keep my skills fresh without a primer. Failing that, a nice historical drama please."

"Romance novels," Sakura added, not caring whether it was embarrassing to admit. "I used to read them under the table at the academy." She giggled at an old memory of getting caught by Iruka. It had been mortifying at the time, but now she'd give anything to have a novel to read, a desk to sit at, a teacher to throw a piece of chalk at her when he realised she wasn't paying attention, and a classroom full of people her age to laugh at her for getting in trouble.

"Medical textbooks, historical dramas, and romance novels," Sensei summarised. "If only The Watcher were so obliging."

The next time Sakura got taken out (distinctive clothing: yes) she returned with an armful of books.