Stitches

"Hey 18, what are you doing?" His voice made her jump, spilling her pencils everywhere.

"Nothing!" She squeaked.

She bent down to retrieve her scattered supplies and tried to stealthily hide her drawing behind her back.

"It doesn't look like nothing."

Her lips came to a pout. "Well, it is."

15's face curved into the impish grin she could never stand up against.

He circled around her, his hand to his chin. "Ooo it's something big. Now, what could you be hiding from me?"

She collected her pencils and stood up, trying her best to stay facing him. Whenever he moved, so did she, circling his steps.

Unfortunately, he'd been modified for a different purpose than she and was always faster.

With a weave and a dodge, he managed to get behind her and snatch the paper out from her grasp. "Got it!"

"No!" She cried, standing on her tip-toes, clawing for her prize.

15 laughed and held it above her head. "Come on, it can't be that bad."

"It's not finished!"

She threw herself at him like a squirrel up a tree, fingers grasping.

Though he had to dance around to avoid her hands, he managed to hold her back with one arm and look at the drawing with the other. "Now, let's see what you've done..."

18 stopped fighting and stilled, red shooting across her cheeks. It was too late to escape now.

She held her face in her hands and mumbled. "It's not very good."

He didn't say anything.

15 moved the drawing away from him and squinted. He lifted it above his head and back down to his eye level, holding his chin, his brow furling. "Is this... me?"

She felt like she could die right then and there. "That was the idea, but clearly you can't tell."

"Wow."

"I know, I know, it sucks. I'm still learning, okay?"

She braced herself for the criticism she'd undoubtedly receive, but when her eyes raised to meet his, his face held an expression she didn't recognize.

He looked... touched.

15 sat down on one of the benches provided in their habitats and stared at the drawing, turning it this way and that. "I don't know what to say."

This wasn't the reaction she'd expected, even when it was finished. She never intended to show him, but now that it was out in the open, she wondered why she hesitated?

If she knew she'd get this face, she would have let him model for her, instead of watching him from the sidelines.

There were no mirrors in the laboratory, the most they'd seen of themselves, was in glass tubes or reflections in each other's eyes. 15 had no idea that he had a dimple on his right side or that his eyes creased when he laughed.

In fact, 18 knew what her friend looked like, far more than herself. She could identify him anywhere, but she'd have to think twice about what her eye color was or if she had freckles across her nose.

A part of her wanted to stay where she was, studying him as she did so often.

There were at least twenty different experiments in the Sound's lab, ranging from children, to ninja in their thirties.

Orochimaru was only interested in young, beautiful bodies for his purposes. When you reached a certain age, it wasn't likely you'd return from one of your sessions, but that was a knowledge none of them liked to dwell on.

Though she did make friends with others around her age and had an affinity for the children, no one called to her the way 15 did.

She gave up her view and sat next to him, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm still practicing. When I improve, I'll draw you for real. Okay?"

He leaned over to meet her and smiled. "I think you're doing pretty well, right now. Look at me. I'd venture to say I'm damn handsome."

A bubbling giggle escaped her lips. She shoved him. "I wouldn't go that far."

15 scoffed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I'm calling it. I'm the most handsome man in the Sound. It's out there in the universe now."

"Phht, what do you know of the universe? We haven't even been outside."

The warmth of his arm around her, the clean scent of his soap, the way her heart raced whenever his deep eyes caught her, all of these things made her think of 15 and the brief moments of happiness he brought her.

She didn't know anything about the universe or the galaxy, but, to her, 15 was so much more than a handsome man.

He was her world.

~

Rin's eyes fluttered opened, scanning the pocked ceiling above her.

She couldn't remember when she fell asleep or how long she'd been out. Somewhere along in the procedure, they must have sedated her and she wished they hadn't.

If she slept, she'd dream about Haru and she didn't want to think of him a moment longer.

Haru was dead. The thing in the cell wasn't her friend; it couldn't have been.

It was a demon, a monster, some cruel trick brought forth by the gods to torment her. But, no matter how she tried, she couldn't think of what sin she committed to earn that kind of wrath.

Even in the darkness, his stark white hair, his deep blue eyes, the curious gaze when he looked at her, all of those stayed the same, despite the rest of him looking grim.

Whatever jutsu this was, they found a way to make him look semi-right and that was a level of cruelty, she couldn't comprehend.

Who would go through the trouble to make him look like that?

It wasn't a coincidence he arrived outside the Sand, a few days after she did. Rin didn't believe in such things. He was connected to her by some outside force. She couldn't think of who, though.

She didn't have any enemies offhand and the Sand was, more or less, happy to receive her.

"Who would do this to punish me?" She questioned out loud.

"Rin?"

The voice made her startle, unaware there was anyone else in the room. "Kankuro."

The painted face, she'd come to know, leaned closer to her. "You're awake? For real this time?"

"Yes."

He sighed. "Good, you've been mumbling for hours. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to answer or not. Sleep isn't my deal like it is yours. You need anything? Hungry?"

She shook her head.

"Thirsty?"

"No."

His hands drummed up and down on his knees. "Come on, let me do something for you. I feel weird just sitting here."

Rin wanted to be left alone, but she doubted that was possible.

Most likely, Gaara stationed his brother there to keep her safe from any passing villagers with an axe to grind, in her weakened state.

"Water, I guess."

"Right! Water! I can do that!" He rushed off to get her what she asked and the silence took her.

Her right arm felt heavy and numb. She didn't want to look at it.

If she could keep herself from seeing the damage, she could pretend it wasn't as bad as she imagined.

But Rin was a curious creature.

Though it felt like lifting a weight, she pulled her arm up to inspect it.

White bandages wrapped it tight, the faint traces of red on the edges, long dried out. She opened and closed her fingers a few times and found them, more or less, flexible.

She knew Har... the thing in the cell... severed her tendons, but the medic's jutsu repaired them.

Her pinky closed first, then her ring, middle and index finger, each with relative ease, but a dull pain.

When she tried to bring in her thumb, that dull pain stabbed her and she hissed through her teeth.

So, she wasn't as healed as she thought.

Though it would probably get her in trouble with the doctors, Rin's curiosity had to be sated. She undid the silver pins keeping her bandages snug and started unwrapping them.

"Whatever it is, you're okay. You'll be okay." Her voice was a shaky whisper.

The edges of her wound showed themselves little by little, the crevice widening with each layer of white removed.

Rin inhaled once and took off the final bandage.

What greeted her was a battlefield.

Kankuro reappeared with a jug of water and two glasses. "Okay, I brought your.... oh."

She stared at the remnants of her arm, her expression blank.

He set them down on the night stand and placed his hand behind his head. "Hey, it's not that bad. Really, it just looks worse right now because it's new. It'll fade."

Her knee came up to brace her injured arm, as the other hand reached out to touch it.

The medics numbed her long ago, so she didn't feel the sting of her fingers brushing over the wound, but she could imagine how it would feel when the drugs wore off.

Rin traced along the punctures of his teeth, ragged and broken.

Ugly, red skin ripped away to show the pink underneath and the trail of sinewy muscle. She didn't think those delicate connections would be the same, despite their efforts.

She wanted to cry.

It didn't matter that it was hideous or that the scar would permanently mar her skin. It didn't even matter to her that her mobility in that arm would never be the same.

What stayed with Rin, like a stone thrown into the depths of her inner sea, was what the scar would forever be a reminder of.

All her memories of Haru were light, each full of sunshine and warmth. Even the one where he was taken from her, though it stayed in her nightmares for years, was at least made slightly better by the knowledge of the last thing he heard.

He died knowing her.

Knowing in his heart that she loved him. Whatever creature he was now, had no idea of that love.

Kankuro's hand found her other knee and he squeezed it. "I'm sorry."

She nodded.

"I know it hurts now, but it will heal. Oh, and if it makes you sleep better at night, don't worry about that thing coming after you again. Gaara is on his way over there now to deal with it."

"He's what?"

Her eyes finally left the gaping wound in her arm and focused on his face.

Kankuro met her gaze, his voice filled with death. "You don't think Gaara would let him live after doing that to you, do you?"