Naruto One Shots

I Hate You Prequel (Kakuzu)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to coco]

Requested by: Me

Word Count: 4,149

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:
- Kidnapping
- Minor Sex Trafficking
- Threats of Violence/Death
- Suicidal Tendencies
- Name Calling: Harlot, Prisoner, Toy

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     The metal collar around my neck shakes along with my nerves, the chains connecting it to the wall swaying because of the movement. There's not much light down here so I can't see much, not that I mind. Light usually means nothing good.
     Light means the scary man that can hold fire in his hands. Light means the room. Light means men. Light means being held down. Light means beatings and broken bones. Light means nothing but things I don't want to do, nothing but pain.
     Despite the moon being the only light in my cage, one that reminds me of stories, reminds me of fairy tales, I can make out a silhouette with two green circles hovering in it. This isn't a fairytale though. The man with fire for hands isn't a beast with a misunderstood heart. I am not a beautiful princess he'll fall in love with. We don't bond over books or getting married in the end.
     The man with fire for hands only bonds with me in the room. Bounds with me as he snaps pictures of me doing disgusting things or when he's handed a stack of money after his friends leave me tainted on the too-hard mattress that's somehow worse than the dirt floor I sleep on.
     The silhouette moves, my head tilting up to follow the growing shadow of it. The mysterious green glow keeps my attention though, giving me something new to think about for the first time in... a while.
     "Are you a harlot?" The shadows ask, the voice deep and jagged.
     The sound startles me, making me jerk backward. My small cage fills with the sound of the chains jangling, a sound I've grown so used to that it almost sounds like a lullaby. "I don't know what that is," I whisper back, trying to push myself further against the wall. I can't which means I can't put any more distance between myself and the... thing hiding in the darkness.
     "A woman who offers sex in exchange for money. Is that why you're here? Because you did or do offer male satisfaction in exchange for some lousy notes?"
     "No."
     The shadow stays quiet for a while, the green orbs looking at me so intensely that I'm worried I'll burn to a crisp. At least I'd finally be warm again. "What do you belong to?"
     "The man with fire for hands."
     Again, nothing but silence and the soft green glow that doesn't match the aura that coats my body from the light. "What did you belong to before that?"
     This time it's my turn to be quiet, trying to stretch my memories back to a time before the man, before my cage, before all the pain. "I - " My mouth clicks shut, eyes scattering around the space I can see between the bars of my cell. What if this is a test? One of the man's friends sent down here to test me, to see if I've forgotten my life before this place. "I was a... a ward of the Waterfall Village."
     A soft growl sounds from the shadows, low and long before it falls away. "An orphan?"
     "Yes."
     The silhouette shifts, moving the colorful light away from me for a moment before it jerks back to looking at me. "What did you do within your village?"
     "Went to school," I whisper, tearing my eyes away from the shadow. How long has it been? Since I've gone to school? Since I've seen the sun? Since I've eaten anything besides stale bread and cold broth? How long ago did I take a shower? An actual shower, not a freezing bucket of water, and a rag wash.
     "How... old are you?"
     "I don't know."
     The shadow stays quiet, the orbs shifting as if to look down at my silhouette. "How old were you when the man brought you here?"
     "Nine."
     A croak spills from the shadows quickly covered up with a cough. After that they fall silent again, nothing but the shifting green glow to remind me it's there. "You might not be a harlot but you are one now. You shall be my harlot. Am I understood?"
     "Not... really," I carefully answer, not following what the hidden figure is saying. Is the man moving me to a different cage? Is that what's going on? He does move me on occasion, usually mumbling about something called the anbus. Is that what the shadow is? One of those anbus?
     "The men - like your man of fire - back where I stay have caught on to my... lack of spending. So, you shall continue as you are... slightly differently," the shadow mumbles, the orbs rolling to scoop out my cell. "In exchange, I shall feed you on occasion. Perhaps more than occasionally seeing how it's nauseating how much your skin grips your bones. Aside from your performances, I do not wish to see or hear of you. If you perform well like I expect you will, you can stay. If you do poorly, I will slit your throat. So, do you believe you can suit my needs? Or shall I leave you here to die of starvation?"
     My mouth stays closed, my mind stuck on the threat of slitting my throat. That sounds... peaceful.
     The shadow growls again, the silhouette moving around in the dark. My eyes stay stuck to the green glow, rolling around the same sentence over and over again. The silent words are only interrupted when the sound of metal popping fills my ears. Before I can fully process the situation, the door to my cage is tumbling to the floor, a bang and dust uprising when it slams to the ground.
     The figure slides through the opening, moving among the darkness like a true shadow as it makes its way to me. When it gets closer I drop to my knees, head still turned up to look at the emerald glow hovering closer to me. "Slit my throat," I whisper when the beast stills in front of me.
     "What?"
     "Please?" I beg, my cheeks wetting with tears I haven't shed in a long time. Crying was useless, it never stopped them, never made anything feel better, never washed away the feeling of their hands on my skin, and yet, the hope for death manages to bring forth in me once again.
     The green light flickers around in jagged circles, glancing around my cell like it's searching for something. There's nothing in here but me and my chains, like it's always been, since my first night with the man with fire for hands. "Do not cry," the shadow orders, the voice laced with unsure anger. "You look even more hideous when you cry."