Usually he’d lecture me first, telling me how disobedient I’d been and instructing me in how to do better while feelings that probably weren’t my own washed through me. Deep respect and reverent awe whenever I heard his voice. Sickening remorse at my own evil ways, and a desperate determination to do better. Abject terror at the thought of being punished again, and an overwhelming eagerness to please that still made me feel vaguely ashamed. Once I’d been strong enough to break the genjutsu that fed those feelings into my subconscious, but that had been a terrible mistake. I didn’t do it again, and by now I’d long since lost the ability to even feel the omnipresent intrusion.
After the lecture came testing. That could be anything from answering questions to being ordered to torture my own parents, and I was expected to obey without hesitation. At first I’d been sullen and resentful, balking whenever an unexpectedly unpleasant task was presented. But again, I’d quickly learned not to refuse. Refusing got me flayed or burned or eaten alive by insects for hours at a time, while shame and remorse filled every corner of my mind that wasn’t occupied by agony. Feeling my heart swell with proud satisfaction as I butchered my childhood friends for the hundredth time wasn’t nearly as bad as that.
I’d tried to console myself with the thought that they were just illusions, but for all I knew they weren’t. Sasuke could pull two people into his Tsukuyomi illusion as easily as one, after all. I was pretty sure the Ino that cried and pleaded and begged me not to cut her eyes out again was real.
Part of me still hated Sasuke, and struggled to give him as little as possible despite the constant siren song of genjutsu that promising a life of bliss and contentment if I just stopped fighting. But another part of me was tired of fighting. Tired of being an evil bitch who needed to be punished and trained and forced to obey. Tired of straining to deny that I belonged to Sasuke, and doing his bidding was my rightful place in the world.
Sometimes that part of me won, and I did my honest best to give him exactly what he wanted for hours at a time. On those days our sessions always ended in a sunlit field, where I was a beautiful woman instead of an emaciated little girl. Then he would take my hand, the only time he ever touched me, and lead me to the mouth of a cave with steps leading down into darkness.
“You’ve made good progress today, Sakura,” he would say to me. “You can rest now, if you like. Or you can get the next phase of your punishment over with, and be one step closer to getting out of your cell.”
The first time I’d been overwhelmed by giddy exhilaration at his praise, and run eagerly down the steps into the dark. Now I hesitated on the top step, trembling in fear. The darkness was full of pain. A waking nightmare that preyed on my own fears and phobias to construct the most horrifying scenarios I could imagine, and make me live them over and over again. Each session lasted for days, and already I was sure I’d never sleep well again.
But each session was marked against the tally on my wall, and Sasuke had promised me that when the last one was over I’d be done. As long as I was a good girl, and tried my best to do what I was supposed to, I’d never have to be punished like that again. So each time he offered the chance to move forward I gathered my courage, and walked down the steps again.
The last time he’d waited for me until I stumbled back out into the light, and gathered me gently into his arms, and told me I’d done well. That I’d been brave, and strong, and he was sure I’d be a good girl for him again someday. Everything went bright and hazy after that, and I floated in a euphoric daze for a long time. Not as long as my punishment session, but long enough to give me the strength to go on.
Still, I was glad my cell had a light. When I closed my eyes the memories of my time in the dark crowded around me, and it was hard not to scream. I slept with my eyes open, and prayed that the single bare bulb hanging from its wire overhead would never burn out.
25. Insights
Disclaimer: I don’t own Naruto.
The day my punishment finally ended was the happiest day of my life.
I’d grown so used to the tides of emotion that filled me from the outside during my training sessions that it was strange to feel only my own honest reactions again. I’d expected another surge of pride and satisfaction, like when I obeyed a difficult order flawlessly. Maybe gratitude, like when he said I’d taken a punishment well, or even respectful awe like when he lectured me on how I should be.
But when my master marked off the last punishment session the only thing I felt was an immense relief that it was finally over. My training was done, and apparently that meant my emotions were my own again.
He unbuckled the harness that held my gag in place himself, and I pressed my cheek briefly against his fingers. He dislikes extravagant displays of devotion, but small gestures are permitted.
“Thank you, sir,” I croaked. My voice barely worked at all after so many days of screaming, and I could barely manage a whisper. But I wasn’t about to let a little thing like that interfere with my performance. “What… now?”
“Karin and Hinata will dismantle your bonds,” he said shortly. “After that your task is to recover your strength as quickly as possible. We are currently in Amegakure, but Nagato is the only member of Akatsuki we can rely on for support. Some of the other members are prone to senseless violence, so be careful to remain near Hinata or myself at all times until you’ve recovered.”
He turned and left as Karin entered, ignoring my whispered acknowledgement.
It took Karin and Hinata working together nearly an hour to pry me out of my bonds. Hinata disassembled each restraint band with a faint expression of distaste, carefully extracting the spikes that pierced my flesh while Karin worked to control the bleeding. The holes they left were surrounded by scar tissue, and several were badly infected.
My legs wouldn’t support my weight, but Hinata lowered me to the floor with surprising gentleness. I vaguely remembered I’d been close to some version of her once. Was she a friend, or just a fellow servant of the same master?
“Kunai?” I asked her, still struggling to talk.
She produced one without comment, and helped me sit as I began cutting out key segments of the chakra suppression seals tattooed into my skin. The cuts bled more than I liked with my body control crippled, and the repeated shocks to my chakra system as I broke each seal weren’t doing me any good either, but I judged I could stay conscious long enough to finish the job.
“What are you doing?” Karin asked irately. “The last thing you need is more stress on your system, little girl. We can remove those later, once I’m sure you’ll survive being released.”
“Fuck that,” I rasped. “Either… incompetent… or hate me… hope I die… not relying on you.”
I could barely hold the kunai, and I noted with disgust that my hand was trembling. But I’d managed to break all five seals on my right arm, so I switched hands and started working on my left.
“Idiot girl!” Karin growled. “I don’t understand why master is so obsessed with you. You’re just a scrawny little kid with a big forehead. You’re going to have those scars for the rest of your life, you know. Your body will never recover, and neither will your chakra, and they’ve already taken any secrets you might have had. You’ll never be as useful as I am.”