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Screams. Screams can be heard from a small girl. Her hair the color of blood in a mess, but her matching eyes hold no tears. She's in pain, but her face betrays that as she refuses to cry. Near her mouth you could see blood trickling down as blood oozes out of an open wound caused by the archer. Her screams seem to quiet down as she realized she is no longer being hit.

Her eyes wonder to the archer. Something is familiar about him, yet her small mind couldn't comprehend why. Blood dripping onto the dirt floor below, her mouth hangs open as she struggles to breathe. She takes this moment to observe him.

The archer, she notes, sits in a chair next to a table nearby cleaning his bow he had used to hit the small child as he chuckles. His black hair was in a low ponytail in the back. His piercing brown eyes caused the little girl to squirm uncomfortably. He smiled at this. He enjoyed this. He enjoyed seeing her squirm, she noticed.

She takes a moment to observe the situation at hand. Her wrists were bound by chains while she hung from the ceiling of the cell. Her feet were a good five feet off the ground. She struggles to breathe as she feels her head becoming extremely heavy and difficult to keep up. She is light headed and very pale from the blood loss.

She must have an infection somewhere because the poorly healed wounds all over her torso are beginning to throb. She holds in a whimper that so desperately wanted to come out.

She is barely hanging onto consciousness when footsteps are heard outside her cell. She wills herself to stay wake as she stares at the door of the cell that is rusty with a window made of iron bars.

The cell door opens creaking as to say "I'm in no condition to keep quiet. I need oil." Or it just needs to be replaced.

A man younger than the archer yet much older than the girl walks in. He had brown hair that covered his coal eyes. He walks up to the archer and tells the him in a deep tone that he is needed elsewhere and to let the girl be. "It's not like she'll live for much longer, but the boss says he needs her alive a little longer." His voice was cold and void of any emotion as she strained to hear.

"Oh alright." The archer's voice was deep and held annoyance in it. He didn't like leaving his toy unattended.

Altogether, he was an intimidating man. As the two walked out, they were suddenly thrown back. Blood was evident as the little girl realized they were killed. Her head becomes droopy as more blood falls to the ground, no longer coming from just her mouth, but the multiple wounds all over her torso as they reopened from the poor medical treatment she received a few hours ago.

The little girl hesitantly brought her face up all the while struggling to see if she could see who killed them. Maybe they would save her. Maybe they were from that leaf village the archer was always complaining about.

Maybe they were here to finally end her suffering. She would accept death with open arms. A chill running down her spine at the thought she managed to see whom she believed would be her death warrant.

But, the person the little girl saw, was a man with blonde hair. He had strands of hair framing his face. But the hair was not what caught the little girls attention. No. It was his unusually blue eyes. They held sorrow and pain.

He wouldn't put her to death, she thought as hope spiked anew within her core. He looked to be too kind to ever do such a thing.

The small child hoped he would save her. She didn't care if he was bad or good, all she knew was that she was going to get out of this wretched cell.

As her sight became blurred she willed herself to at least see where he was from. If he was a loyal shinobi or a rogue, she wanted to at least see that much.

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