𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐔𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐗 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐔𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐡𝐚!𝐎𝐜 ── ❝ 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 ❞
── Misaki could never have anticipated what awaited her in the years to come-her tumultuous feelings, her fractured famil...
"You shouldn't act so surprised," I said as we walked into what I assumed to be a medical room. The space was dim; the sterile scent of antiseptic hung in the air. Orochimaru gestured for me to sit down on a chair, and he took the chair directly in front of me, his eyes gleaming with calculation.
"Why wouldn't I?" Sasuke replied, his voice tinged with annoyance and confusion.
I sighed, my laugh coming out small and dry. "Because that just proves that you haven't been reading the letters I've sent you."
Sasuke was silent, and by his expression, I could infer that he had not read a single line of what I had written. Not getting any response from him, I persisted; perhaps finally, I had the opportunity to get through to him. "If you had read them, you would have known about my illness. Now I am sure, with this knowledge, you'll be reading my letters more often?"
His expression didn't change, but in his eyes, flicker there was something that looked like regret or guilt. "I'll think about it," Sasuke grunted. It was clearly very begrudging, though I could read him enough to know it for a yes. He just didn't want to admit it in front of Orochimaru.
His eyes darted back and forth between us, and I could feel his curiosity rise at this exchange. "It seems there's so much I still don't know about you, Misaki," he said, his voice smooth and inquiring. "Your letters must be full of intriguing details."
I met Orochimaru's eyes—unflinching. "They're personal," I said, not willing to say more than I had to.
He smiled, a cold, calculated smile. "Of course. Everyone has their secrets."
"Whatever you say, Sasuke," I said, my lips curling into a slight smile. "Hurry, Lord Orochimaru. I've been waiting in vain, hoping that there's something for me."
"Ah, Misaki," Orochimaru began, his voice smooth and almost reassuring as he turned to his desk. "I have formulated a series of pills that will extend your life significantly. I suspect up to sixty years, more or less."
He drew out a small vial from a drawer and set it carefully into my hands. "Take one a day, Misaki. And don't even think about doubling up, thinking it will work better. It doesn't. The drawbacks are severe. If you miss a single dose, it will be dire. Your lifespan will be shortened to only a few months."
My eyes locked onto that container, weight inside far heavier than actual, physical mass represented. This small vial held my future, my survival. I nodded, knowing full well the weight this decision carried. "I understand. One a day."
