Your Lies | Itachi Uchiha x Reader

Chapter 18

POV – Y/n:

We were surrounded by ocean once more. No land in sight—just endless waves stretching out into the horizon. It was strange. I had assumed we'd be sailing close to the coast, since the territory I was headed for was connected to the Land of Fire. But the coastline had completely vanished.

"Miss, can you accompany us into the cabin? The waves are going to get rougher—you might get splashed or trip," a sailor said, approaching me politely.

"Oh. Okay," I replied, stepping off the railing and walking toward the cabin alongside him.

The moment I stepped inside, something felt wrong.

The room was dark. Strangely dark. The lights were off, and not a single sailor was inside. I expected the crew to be resting or working here, but there was only silence. It smelled odd too—not just the scent of saltwater and wood. Something was off.

"Why are the lights off—" I began to ask, but I never finished the sentence.

A hand clamped over my mouth and nose. Arms grabbed at my legs, anchoring me by the ankles. Another set of hands seized my wrists. The doors slammed shut behind me.

Panic surged through me as I was forced to the ground, my cheek pressed hard against the wooden planks. I couldn't breathe properly. I struggled, muffled and helpless, while the lights flicked on to reveal ten men standing over me—the entire crew.

Everything fell into place.

So this is what he meant...
The silver-haired man's warning echoed in my mind.

The sailors shouted over one another.

"Who's got the rope?!"
"Tie her down—quick!"
"She's still not unconscious? What the hell?!"

Their voices blurred together. My vision was dimming. My head was spinning. The weight of them, their shouts, the pressure—they were suffocating.

But I wasn't out yet.

Something primal snapped inside me.

I bit the hand covering my mouth, hard. The man howled in pain and recoiled. I threw my legs up, despite being partially restrained, and nailed the sailor behind me right between the legs.

They hadn't bound my hands yet.

I formed the signs quickly. "Boil Release: Skilled Mist Jutsu!"

Acidic mist surged from my mouth, spreading rapidly through the closed space of the cabin. The perfect setting for this jutsu.

The sailors coughed, wheezed, and stumbled backward as the vapor surrounded them. I adjusted the pH level just enough to avoid killing them—but it was still enough to cause pain, burning eyes, and disorientation.

They weren't shinobi. They didn't have countermeasures. But still, people fight back when cornered.

CRACK.

A heavy object slammed into the back of my head. The pain was instant. Blinding. My vision exploded with white stars. A searing bolt ran down my spine as my body collapsed to the floor.

Someone had hit me with a skillet.

I could feel consciousness slipping.

The mist had worked. The one who struck me staggered and fell.

Still... I should've seen this coming.

All the signs were there. The odd route. The lack of other passengers. The "special" stop. The warning.

I'd been so naive.

༄༄༄༄༄༄༄

When I came to, all ten sailors were staring at me.

I was tied to a chair. My wrists burned. My head throbbed.

"Untie me before I wipe those smug grins off your faces, you disgusting bastards!" I snapped. My voice cracked with fury.

They laughed.

"You're not so scary without your jutsus," one sneered. "All high-and-mighty until your hands are bound."

"You ninja think you're untouchable," another spat. "But you're nothing without your chakra."

"She really thought that fog trick was something. Anyone else want to teach this cocky brat a lesson?" one jeered.

A chorus of "Aye!" followed.

I kept my breathing steady. I couldn't afford to panic. But the fear inside me clawed at my chest.

"What do you even want from me?" I asked, my voice low. "What's your goal?"

A voice from the back answered.

"Isn't it obvious, Terumi bitch? We know who you are. We know about your bounty."

"The market won't mind if we rough you up a bit," another muttered, grinning.

My blood ran cold.

They stepped closer. One placed his hands on my shoulders, slowly running them down my back. Another moved behind me and tugged at the zipper of my top.

I tensed. No. No. Not this. I braced myself, fighting the tears welling in my eyes.

"Don't," I whispered, barely able to speak. "Please... don't do this."

They laughed.

"You should've behaved," one of them sneered. "You're the one who made this difficult."

Another added, "You really think dressing like that wasn't an invitation?"

That excuse. I'd heard it before—too many times. That twisted logic, that evil justification.

My chest heaved. My hands were shaking. I tried to stay strong. But my body betrayed me. I was crying.

The sailor at my back slid the zipper down further.

I shut my eyes.

Then the door exploded open.

A boot slammed into the sailor in front of me. Another man was tackled and flung against the wall. Blows landed. Grunts followed. One by one, the attackers were beaten down with precision and speed.

I blinked, dazed.

The last of the sailors crumpled to the floor.

He turned to me, kneeling down. He zipped my top back up gently, then moved to untie my wrists and ankles.

The man from before.

The one with silver hair.

He looked at me carefully. "Are you okay?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't.

I threw myself into his arms, sobbing.

He held me tightly, hand softly stroking my back. We stayed that way for a while. I wasn't ready to let go—and he didn't make me.

"It's over," he murmured. "You're safe now. Did they... did they hurt you?"

He meant it in the way that mattered most.

I shook my head.

He let out a breath he'd been holding. "Thank god..."