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Haruno Sakura was never meant to become more than a career genin. Maybe a career chuunin. She was supposed to live a quiet, modest life, married with two kids, unremarkable.
Safe.
The thought flashes through Sakura’s mind as she stares at the backs of the Sound Four, and for a blinding, terrifying moment, she almost laughs. Breaks down into helpless hysterics right here, as she— as she leaves Konoha, as she leaves Konoha, oh god.
This was never supposed to happen.
Sakura was never supposed to be impersonating Uchiha Sasuke, the love of her life, as he betrayed the village for Orochimaru.
Her next breath shakes on the way out; she hopes that no one notices. Discreetly, she curls her fingers into the meat of her palm until the nails bite in crescent impressions. If she gets caught now, it’s over. It’s all over.
Come on, Outer, says Inner, quiet, at the back of her mind. Just like at the Academy, remember? Burn the self; the ashes are the other.
The infiltration mission mantra—burn everything that makes you, you, and build your persona from the ashes. Sakura had never thought she’d need to use it in her life, but she’d memorized it anyway. For the grade.
Remember when being a kunoichi was fun? she thinks helplessly to Inner. Remember when it was only just a grade?
When there were no Snake Sannin pulling his face off like so much wet slop. When her most pressing concern was the texture of her hair. When Sasuke hadn’t betrayed the village and she hadn’t struck from behind and lowered his unconscious to the bench and folded her hands into the seal for the sleeping genjutsu that the foreign nin used to kill so many.
The foreign nin that she’s following, right now, because she can’t risk them turning back and attacking the village.
Her henge almost flickers; Inner reaches out across the mindscape and slaps her so hard her ears ring.
Outer. You’re not going to get us killed. There’s something desperately afraid in the line of Inner’s mouth. Sakura looks away. She knows the fear shivering her heart in her chest, she doesn’t need to see it on Inner. Do it, Outer. Burn the self; the ashes are the other.
Sakura takes another breath, holds it. PIctures Haruno Sakura; pink hair, large forehead, useless. Breathes out and imagines it all crumbling to ash.
She is Uchiha Sasuke.
This should be easy. She should know enough about Sasuke from all her observation that mimicking him comes second-nature. Some parts do; the swagger in his stance, the subtle tension in his shoulders, but. All she can think of is his voice saying get out of my way, Sakura.
No. No, she is Uchiha Sasuke. She is Uchiha Sasuke. She’s tempted. She wants to kill a certain man, she thinks the Snake Sannin will be the source of her power. She’s… she’s full of anger, right now. Confidence.
She is Uchiha Sasuke.
It takes her a half-second to realize that the bodies in front of her have stopped moving. A half-second she wouldn’t’ve needed if she was really Sasuke, but—
Shut up, Outer! There’s real panic in Inner’s voice. Sakura swallows.
The androgynous one with a second head growing out of their back turns to face her, partially in shadow thrown by Konoha’s tall trees. Inner makes a small noise, curling a hand over Sakura’s forearm.
“Sasuke-san,” they start, and Sakura almost blinks. Almost.
…that’s polite, Inner says, with a slight sense of dawning horror. Sakura takes a breath. Burn the self; the ashes are the other.
“Around here will do, don’t you think?” they continue. “We’ve already exited Konoha.”
…do for what? She doesn’t have enough information. She doesn’t know anything about what Sasuke’s relationships with these people are like. She doesn’t know how they’re all supposed to interact.
What would Sasuke do?
Be rude, probably.
“What?” she asks, viciously cutting out the wobble that threatens the irritated expectancy of her voice. She’s an expert at that tone; it’s basically the only way Sasuke ever spoke to any of them.
The speaker just smirks. “To be honest, Orochimaru-sama has given us one more important task…”
They trail off. Of course they trail off. Sakura takes another breath, calls forth her best memories of Sasuke and lets it shape the voice that leaves her henge.
“So what is it?”
Perfect impression, she thinks with a small, grim mental smile. She just needs to keep this up a little longer.
We’re not going to be able to fool one of the Sannin. Inner’s voice rings out in Sakura’s mindscape. She digs her nails into her palms, grateful that Sasuke’s pockets cover the motion.
She can fool the Sannin if she has to. She’s the top kunoichi of her class, better than Ino. She knows her way around a henge. She’ll do it. She’ll do it because if she doesn’t—
Sakura doesn’t want to see another invasion. Doesn’t want to see war.
She snaps out of her thoughts the Sound nin start laughing. Every single one of them, spread in their diamond surrounding her. It’s not even the amused kind of laughter, either—this is the precursor to violence. Sakura tenses up instinctively.
Sasuke-kun wouldn’t be that obvious about it, snaps Inner immediately, and— shit, she’s right. Sakura takes a breath, lowers her shoulders somewhat. Pours her tension into her legs instead. Gets ready to run like hell.
Would Sasuke be using his Sharingan yet? God, she doesn’t know.
And besides, we haven’t seen his Sharingan enough to replicate it, comes Inner in a worried murmur.
Eventually, the laughter dies down, and the grey-haired one from before speaks again.
“You need to die once.”
Die once? Inner asks, something hardening in her eyes. Die once?
“Die once?” Sakura’s lips are numb, buzzing. She licks them once, darts her eyes from Grey to the others she can vaguely see in her periphery. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Grey moves, and Sakura’s hand is darting to her kunai pouch before she can even think. They pause and chuckle, and—is the head on the back laughing?
What the fuck?
“Calm down, Sasuke-san,” they say, another sharp smile spreading across those thin lips. “No need to be so twitchy.”
Shit. Was Sasuke twitchy? Was she doing a bad job?
Shit. Shit. Come on, Outer! Get it together! Inner paces back and forth in her mindscape. You can’t let us die. You can’t let us die.
Sakura resets her expression back into Sasuke’s smirk. It settles uncomfortably on her face, lips pulling up awkwardly. “Whatever.”
Oh, god, would he say that?
Breathe. Burn the self.
“Mind Awakening Pills.” Grey withdraws a bottle of dark brown pills from… somewhere, holding it out. “You’ll take these.”
Sakura stares at them for a moment. It’s hard to see through the tinted glass, but each pill looks about the size of her pinky nail. She can’t tell how many there are. They don’t look like anything she’s seen before.
Of course you haven’t seen that before, scoffs Inner. It’s Orochimaru.
“Mind Awakening Pills…” God, that’s a terrifying name. Almost like a Yamanaka jutsu, only with Yamanaka jutsu Inner can fight them off. “What are those?”
The pink-haired one at her side is the one to answer, though. Her voice scrapes like a knife on a whetstone. “Your curse mark is in its first stage. The pills will force it to the power of the second state.”
Oh, no. The curse mark.
Sakura is suddenly immeasurably glad for the high collar of Sasuke’s shirt. She hopes that with the curse mark sealed, the Sound Four aren’t expecting chakra leakage—she can’t even begin to imagine how to mimic the horrible, corrosive power of it.
Grey takes over again, a sadistic sort of pleasure rolling into their voice. “However, if you move up to the second state, the Curse Mark’s erosion will deteriorate drastically.” The wind blows; their hair flutters across their face. All the while, they hold her gaze. “And if it’s left there, you’ll die.”
Sakura can’t breathe.
Oh, god. Oh, god. She doesn’t have the curse mark. What the fuck are those going to do to her?
“However, in order to control the power of the second state, the body must become accustomed to it over the course of several hours,” they continue, still staring her down. “In doing so, you will receive power equal to ours. However, once awake, you won’t last more than a couple minutes, and will certainly die.”
We can’t eat those. God, what do I do? What do I do?
Sakura pulls on Sasuke’s figured-you-out smirk, hoping it covers the unease roiling in her gut. Anxiety claws up the back of her ribs, skittering in close to her heart.
Breathe. Breathe.
She needs a believable reason that Sasuke wouldn’t take the pills. What can she say…?
“Hn. I see. You want to poison me before you get me to Orochimaru.” Her palms are sweating inside her pockets. Sasuke’s wouldn’t. (Wouldn’t they?) “Like hell am I taking anything from you.”
The pink-haired one makes a sound of amusement. “You’re our leader, Sasuke-san. We wouldn’t poison you.”
He’s their what?
“And even if we did, you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it .Not as weak as you are right now.” Grey smiles again, green lipstick highlighting a savage grin. “Or do we need to beat you again to prove it? Sasuke-san?”
Oh, god. Okay. Sakura takes her hands from her pockets, crosses them defensively over her chest. Sweat trickles down the back of her neck.
“Beat me, I don’t care. I’m not taking a single pill until it comes from the snake himself.”
There’s a moment of silence. Sakura locks eyes with Grey, waiting. Inner holds, silent as the grave. The wind rustles the leaves of a taller tree; leaves flutter down over the two of them.
“I can’t tell if you’re gutsy or just stupid,” says Grey after a long moment, eyes still locked with hers, but…
They put the pills away. Inner breathes, an explosive release of tension.
“You’ve got guts, Sasuke-san,” says the brunette to her side. “Careful that you don’t mouth off to Orochimaru-sama, though. He’ll cut them right out.”
Pink and the orange-haired member snicker. Sakura— is probably feeling some way about it, under the crashing wave of relief that almost sinks her to her knees. Pill of Instant Death avoided, she thinks to Inner, breathing out in a long, controlled sigh.
Don’t get too comfortable, Inner warns. Two-face over there looks like they’ve still got more to say.
She looks over to Grey, who pulls out a scroll. It unrolls with a rustle of heavy sealing paper. Black ink sprawls over the page, framing a section of red with links in a circle surrounding it.
…that’s not just a storage scroll, Sakura thinks, squinting at the red sealing lines in the center. The Academy only taught the bare basics of sealing, and that was only discussed in their second year as part of their lesson on shinobi specializations, so Sakura doesn’t have the tools to address the rest of the scroll, but… it doesn’t quite match up with what she’s seen before. It only adds to the knot of uneasiness at her sternum, the nausea turning her stomach.
She wants to run. She wants to go home.
“Pills or not, we can’t have a genin slowing us down,” Grey says, and lays a hand on the red portion of the paper. A barrel with no top appears a meter in front of Sakura; she starts back on instinct.
“Get in,” says Grey. Sakura eyes the barrel—there’s seals for… is that— storage? It’s been too long since their fuuinjutsu unit. She can’t remember anything.
“Why?”
Grey’s eyes narrow. “Konoha will come after you the moment they find out about your desertion, Sasuke-san. You don’t have the stamina to run all the way to Otogakure at our pace.”
Sakura’s mind flashes back to Wave—Sasuke and Naruto racing up the tree for hours on end, even past dark—and she thinks, with a tinge of horror, that there’s no way she can replicate that in herself.
We have to, Inner thinks, grim. Sakura’s lips thin with the pressure it takes to hold the anxious frown back.
“Fine,” she snaps, trying her best to channel Sasuke. “I’ll get in your stupid barrel.”
Grey smiles. “Then do it.”
Sakura gets into the barrel. It’s a tight fit with the pack of Sasuke’s provisions for the trip—from the feel of it, mostly weaponry. There’s a strange, disconnectedly giddy thought that Sasuke’s clothes are in there before the lid slams shut over her head, sealing her in darkness.
Silence. Sakura’s ears thump with the sound of her heartbeat. The inside of the barrel smells like damp wood, and something metallic, an unpleasant combination. It’s all she can to do keep her breathing steady.
…what are the chances they’ve figured out I’m not him and are taking me somewhere to dispose of me?
Even in her mind, her voice shakes. Sakura bite her lip hard enough to taste blood. It doesn’t help. Nothing is going to help when she gets to Orochimaru.
Shut up, Inner cuts in. Stop thinking about it.
She doesn’t say there’s nothing you can do, but she doesn’t have to. Sakura’s already thinking it.
And they don’t know you’re not Sasuke, Inner says. Because otherwise you’d be dead already. They’re Orochimaru’s. Remember Dosu?
Right.
Sakura takes a breath, holds it. Okay. Okay, okay, okay. It’s fine. The plan is working. She’s going to go to Orochimaru and pretend to be Sasuke for as long as she can. And maybe if she pretends well enough, she might be able to head off another invasion.
We won’t, Inner murmurs, but Sakura just closes her eyes.
It doesn’t matter. We started this.
The barrel jostles as it’s picked up, off the ground. Sakura’s eyelids squeeze tighter, throwing spots of light against the darkness of the barrel. Her chakra coils burn faintly from the strain of maintaining the henge for so long, but it’s fine; she’s going to be transported somewhere, so her chakra will have the time to refill.
And there’s no way out, anyway.
Sakura… doesn’t sleep, in the barrel, exactly, too keyed-up, but she’s not exactly awake, either. She drops her henge the moment she realizes nobody’s going to look in while they travel, focuses on recuperating. Her henge has to be able to stand up to Orochimaru’s scrutiny, and for that she needs adequate chakra.
(She ignores Inner’s pacing in the back of her mind.)
She jolts back to awareness when the barrel shifts suddenly, throwing her henge back on and wrenching her eyes open. There’s sound outside the barrel, voices she can hear but not understand.
Oh. Oh, she’s here.
Suddenly, the barrel top is removed. Sakura flinches back from the sudden burst of light, throwing a hand up to cover her eyes. And then the barrel shifts again, tipping forward, and by the time she realizes what’s happening it’s too late to shove chakra to her feet and stick.
Sakura spills out onto a white concrete floor, barely able to catch herself before her face smacks against it. And god it’s cold, like plunging her hands into the Naka river before the icy skin’s fully gone.
The shock is enough to disrupt her concentration. If she had any more chakra, it wouldn’t matter, but— the barrel did something, kept her from regaining her chakra.
Her henge shatters.
Sakura—
Freezes.
There’s a beat of silence before a hand knots into her hair, yanks her up. And Sakura— she can’t breathe around the rabbit heart pulse that jerks up into her throat. The world spins a formless white before her.
Breathe, Outer, Inner says, grim. We’re going to survive.
Sakura barely hears her over the roar of blood in her ears, the icy press of a kunai under her chin up-up-up…
Venom-gold eyes catch the fluorescent lights, cold as the glint of a knife. Orochimaru tilts his head and dark hair spills in a starless void over his shoulder, an afterthought of emptiness. There’s a terrible sort of weight in his gaze, too-sharp consideration under the skin of a monster. Sakura would shudder if she weren’t all too aware of the kunai at her throat, how easily moving could send it slicing into her jugular.
“Haruno Sakura.” Her name sounds foreign on his lips, s drawn out for a second too long. Sakura wants to crawl out of her skin and run. Be anywhere but here. Anywhere but in front of him.
“You are utterly useless.”
The words fall into the silence like a guillotine. Sakura’s hands are trembling by her sides. Orochimaru’s regard constricts around her lungs, strangling her with every breath.
Calm down, Inner says, but there’s panic in her voice too. Sakura closes her eyes, like that’ll help. Like it’ll do anything at all against Orochimaru of the Sannin.
“No clan genes, lower than average chakra reserves, no reciprocal emotional connection with Sasuke…” Orochimaru clicks his tongue. “Really, Sakura-chan. What did you want me to do with you?”
A moment of silence before the hand in her hair tightens, the kunai pushes more into Sakura’s throat. She can feel her skin split; blood runs warm down her skin to stain her top. Sakura’s eyes, alarmingly, have started to prickle with tears.
No, no, no, Inner says, getting steadily louder. You can’t cry, hear me, Outer?
“Answer them,” hisses the person behind her— Grey.
If she answers about the village… Orochimaru might go after Konoha. Again. She can’t let that happen. Sakura swallows, opens her eyes.
“...I couldn’t let him,” she hears herself say, barely more than a whisper. Her voice is shaking so badly it’s hard to believe it came from her. “I couldn’t let him. Go.”
Orochimaru just looks at her; cutting, demeaning. There’s something raging under the surface, held in check by nothing but the human skin he’s wearing.
“So you stopped him,” he murmurs. “Interesting. Hidden depths, perhaps.”
The way he shapes hidden depths feels like mockery; the corners of his mouth tug into a smirk. Sakura can’t breathe.
You can, Inner says, a grim stubbornness to her. Come on, Outer. In. Out.
Sakura hauls in as much air as she can, holds it. Breathes out, one long, tremulous breath.
“Are you going to kill me?”
The silence stretches. Sakura closes her eyes again, braces for… god. Orochimaru used so many techniques in the Forest of Death. Fire, like he had tossed at Naruto? Or his snakes? Or… his sword, the one every history lecture on him had mentioned?
We’re not going to die, says Inner, but she sounds like she’s not even convincing herself—high, frantic. We’re not going to die here!
But there’s no other option.
And then Orochimaru laughs, amused with a distinct edge of something else. The hairs on the back of Sakura’s neck rise, and Inner only barely manages to stop the shudder before it races down her spine. It’s almost like being back in the Forest of Death, feeling just how much Orochimaru wanted to hurt her. Only this time, there’s no Sasuke to save her.
“Oh, no,” Orochimaru says, and an unsettling grin stretches across his face. “I’m not one to waste resources, Sakura-chan, not after you came all the way to me.”
He tilts his head, just slightly, and those sharp bones cast shadows over unnaturally pale skin. Gold gleams from the half-darkness, locked directly on her.
“You came to a village of experiments, Sakura-chan. You’re going to earn your place.”
Sakura’s pulse pounds in her ears. Earn my place?
Be an experiment, Inner hisses, eyes wild. We’re going to be like— like those transforming freaks—
Images flash before Sakura’s eyes. The stretching ninja. Dosu, with his metal arms. Zaku, with the air tubes through his hands. Orochimaru himself, sliding off his face with those long, spindly fingers .
I won’t be human anymore.
We won’t.
“Come now, Sakura-chan,” Orochimaru laughs, light and dangerous. “Chin up. Be a good kunoichi.” His eyes glitter, smile turning cruel. “For your precious Sasuke-kun.”
Orochimaru’s head tilts; black hair rustles and slides over his shoulder as he leans forward. His eyes are flat and gold like an animal’s. His voice drops to a vengeful murmur, just for the two of them, as he says, “Because after all. Who knows what I’ll do if I get bored? I might simply… go find him. And you saw what happened last time Konoha tried to stop me.”
Sakura’s mouth tastes like ash. Slowly, ever so slowly, she nods. Orochimaru smiles, sharp and satisfied, and leans back.
For the first time since everything, he takes those eyes off her. Sakura draws a shaky breath, bites down on the inside of her cheek to keep the burning in her eyes at bay. Not here. Not here.
“Kabuto,” he says, quiet and even. Sakura blinks, frowns, but she didn’t mishear because it’s the same boy from the chuunin exams that steps up next to Orochimaru, one hand adjusting his round glasses. He looks… completely at ease here.
Traitor.
“Yes, Orochimaru-sama?” he asks, perfectly polite, a pleasant smile on his lips. Sakura stares. There’s some sort of horrified fear licking like fire along her veins.
“Take her to a cell,” Orochimaru says. He turns back to Sakura, flicks an assessing eye over her, and looks to Kabuto again with a, “Level B3 will suffice.”
Kabuto’s smile pulls a little wider in private amusement. He bows easily. “As you wish.”
A cell. Because she’s a test subject now.
(Oh, god. Oh god oh god oh god—)
Sakura’s pulled to her feet at a gesture from Kabuto. To the Sound Four, he says, “You can let her go. I can handle a genin.”
Grey laughs in her ear, lets Sakura go with a shove to the back. She stumbles, sways dangerously on her feet as feeling returns to her everything in a rush of pins and needles. Kabuto just watches, that same pleasantly unfeeling smile on his face. When she’s steady enough, he takes her by the elbow and offers her an eye-smile. She can still feel Orochimaru’s gaze burning marks into her back.
“Right this way, Haruno-san.”
He leads her out of the room, away from the room. Away from Orochimaru. Somehow, she doesn’t feel any safer.
Sakura’s breath comes stuttering and sharp, lights haloing through the film of unshed tears.
Kabuto takes her deeper and deeper into the building. There are no windows. Sakura’s probably just imagining the weight of the earth all around her, the way the sterile concrete corridors get darker and darker the farther they walk. He doesn’t say anything. Sakura’s feet ache.
Eventually, they stop before a normal-looking patch of concrete wall. Kabuto’s hand is tight on her elbow. Sakura isn’t sure when she started shaking.
“Here you are.” Kabuto lays his other hand on the concrete, then forms a one-handed Ox. The wall slides away silently, revealing a shadowed cell beyond. Sakura stares blankly into it, then steals a glance at Kabuto. He’s watching her back, pleasant and blank. Entirely unreadable. Waiting.
“...why?”
Don’t ask stupid questions, Inner snaps, but it’s too late to take it back. Her question hangs in the air between her wide eyes and Kabuto’s flat stare. Sakura’s hands are trembling.
“Why what, Haruno-san?” Kabuto asks, mild.
Sakura swallows. Holds his eyes: grey, empty. Soulless.
He’s a monster too, isn’t he?
“Why did you turn your back on Konoha?”
He’s silent for a moment, tilting his head to the floor as if considering. Sakura’s heart is so loud it could probably be heard from Suna.
Then— his shoulders shake. Sakura frowns, looks at him again, and… he’s laughing. Silent chuckles that shake his entire body. He lets go of her to put a hand over his mouth, shaking his head.
“Ah, Konoha-nin.” When he looks up again, the light reflects off his glasses so Sakura can’t see his eyes. He takes a breath and smiles with the most humor she’s seen from anyone today.
“I didn’t turn on Konoha, Haruno-san. Konoha turned on me. I just accepted my due.”
…what?
Kabuto exhales the remains of his laughter, shaking his head, before he turns back to her.
“Well then. If that’s all you needed, then please get in the cell.” Kabuto smiles. His teeth are very white. Sakura feels a chill slip down her spine.
Get in the cell . Sakura eyes it, dark and windowless, then Kabuto, with one hand on the wall. Then, for a moment, the hallway from which they came.
Run, says Inner, but Sakura knows better. She would only get lost, and if Kabuto is here and Orochimaru has faith in his abilities…
A brief image of Sakura wandering the halls alone, Kabuto strolling after her, flashes through her brain. She takes one more look at Kabuto’s easy smile, the relaxed stance, and nods.
She steps through the door.
“Wise choice, Haruno-san,” Kabuto says. He’s backlit this way, silver hair shining. Sakura curls her hands into fists to keep them from shaking. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
With that, he takes his hand off the wall. It slides back together, merging seamlessly. Sakura is left in complete and utter darkness.
Stupid , Inner snarls. You should’ve run when you had the chance!
It wasn’t a chance. It was a trap. Sakura stares dully into the darkness. I don’t know the way out. Kabuto was waiting for me to run.
You could’ve fought him! Inner slams her hands against the walls of Sakura’s mind; she would’ve flinched if it weren’t for the full-body numbness creeping over her. He’s scrawny and weak, you could’ve overpowered him—
He was lying the whole time in Konoha. I don’t know his capabilities.
You don’t know! We could’ve run!
And Orochimaru would’ve just gone for Sasuke-kun. Sakura shakes her head, flexes her hands. No, Inner.
Inner paces like a wild thing in her mind. Sakura just feels for the wall and slides down to sit. She can’t tell if the floor feels slanted because it is or because she’s so unsteady it’s hard to hold herself up.
We have to get out of here. We don’t know if he’ll even keep his word.
Strangely, it feels like the more twitchy tension Inner has, the more of it leaves Sakura. Her eyes are drooping, tripwire adrenaline fading. The concrete is cold as steel where her qipao doesn’t protect her.
Then we have to make sure he keeps it. If he doesn’t get bored with us….
Outer. Inner stops pacing, looks directly at Sakura. It would be unnerving if Sakura had any emotions left other than a shivering blank. You know what that means.
We can be a monster if we have to, Sakura thinks, leaning her head back against the concrete. She can’t hear anything from outside. If it saves Konoha.
Fuck Konoha! Inner roars. Sakura shivers and brings her knees to her chest.
We can’t escape now.
Not if you just give up! Sakura gets the sense that Inner would shake her, if she could. There’s almost the sensation of hands on her shoulders. Outer, I swear—
Shh. Tired.
Don’t tell me to—
Everything is so cold, but Sakura’s so exhausted it doesn’t matter. She curls up tighter, rests her forehead on her knees. Inner is shouting, she knows, but it gets quieter and quieter as the static in her ears builds.
Sleep won’t solve her problems. Sakura knows that. She’s going to wake up right here and she’s going to have to stay right here, because if she doesn’t, then Orochimaru will attack Konoha to get Sasuke. Sakura can’t let that happen. Not with—
(Don’t think about them.)
Sakura can’t let that happen.
So. Sleep won’t solve her problems. But there’s really nothing else she can do, right now, and a ninja who doesn’t sleep is a ninja with sloppy reflexes is a ninja who dies. And right now, there’s nothing else she can do.
When sleep comes for her, it’s with the numb mercy of the damned.