Chapter 84

"Itachi-sama," she uttered after a very pregnant pause, fidgeting with nervousness.

He looked away from her and beckoned for her to follow him down the dank hallway outside. The door thundered shut behind them as it closed, the booming sound vibrations dying away slowly to silence, silence disturbed only by the girl's footsteps, his own feet making no noise. She was tailing him apprehensively, but he just kept his vision locked on the hall in front of him.

"Who was that man?" she whispered to him after a moment, her voice sounding loud despite the hushed tone.

"That was the leader of Akatsuki," he replied after a moment, "He is very strong and powerful; do not ever do anything to displease him."

"Hai," she replied hurriedly; in his peripheral vision he could see fear on her face.

They walked along the path for a while longer, taking a turn left when they came to a juncture in the underground hideout where Akatsuki dwelled. The mountainside tunnels were devoid of life for the most part, as there were only the other members and a few rogue ninja working in various positions. Other than the occasional rat, or if there were designated meetings, chances of running into someone was unlikely.

"When the leader talked about… 'the host'…he meant me, right?" the girl said after a while, sounding agitated.

"Yes."

"Itachi-sama, I'm not going to die…am I?" she sounded like she was doing her best not to cry.

"What is your name?" Itachi said after a moment, picking his words carefully and easily, knowing the kind of response he must give if the girl were to remain unsuspecting of her fate.

"I wasn't given one," she replied, sounding ashamed, "…not that I know of."

"Then you shall be called Nariko," Itachi told her firmly after a moment's consideration; it was a fitting name, considering the power of the demon within her, "I give you this name because you are going to be here longer than was expected, and I need something by which to call you."

"I'm staying here longer?" Nariko sounded both worried and confused.

"Your body is weak. What you heard our leader say was true, if we take the demon out of you now, you and it will both die," he explained impassively, "I am to make sure you gain some strength before we take it out of you, then we shall lock up the demon and you will be returned home."

"…Home," was the wistful and almost dreamy response, "…And then they'll like me, they'll accept me."

Giving a small noncommittal nod in the girl's direction, he inwardly scorned her for her gullibility. Often when they took the hosts of the demons away from their towns, the people never cared to come looking for them, simply not caring—most of them were often relieved. Nariko would never return to her village; she would die the instant the Bijuu was removed, and that would be that. There was no way to save her pathetic soul, not that there was anyone who would miss it.

"Itachi-sama?"

He glanced over at her hopeful and almost delighted face, "Do you think my parents will be happy to see me? Do you think they'll like me—love me?"

He let a little more of the hallway to be covered by his strides before answering the question, "I am sure they will."

Truly pitiful.

Sakura was sitting down on the ground next to Sasuke, his one arm grasped gently while she applied chakra to the bruises she had given him, healing them.

They had spent the rest of the day with taijutsu training, not even stopping for lunch, and even now as evening was setting in, the thought of dinner hadn't really crossed their minds, both too absorbed in the difficult training to notice. True to her word, she had granted him a fight because he was able to correctly tell her which movements she had performed, and as she had asked, he hadn't held back this time. He had been significantly faster this time, and she had a very swollen cheek at the moment, from when she couldn't dodge fast enough. Other than that, she was fine—Sasuke on the other hand had suffered a few blows from her blocking his attacks; he tried to hit her with such force that she had to use chakra multiple times to prevent serious damage, and the chakra had caused him to bruise, but not her.

"You've gotten really quick," she told him with muffled speech, the swelling interfering with her tongue.

"You said not to hold back," he told her, with a small shrug once she had released him.

"I'm not complaining," she said, raising her hand to her face; healing one's own wounds was easier because the unconscious mind knew each and every part of one's own body, thus being able to have better control over the chakra, resulting in faster healing.

"How's your wound?" he asked her after a moment.

She smiled slightly, lowering her hand from her face, the healing already finished, "I've suffered worse."

No flicker of emotion crossed his face at this comment, so instead she tapped his shoulder, a way she told him to stand without actually voicing it. She took his arm after they had both risen to their feet, his skin still warm from the flow of chakra she had applied to his bruised arm.

"It's been a long day," she said to him, "Would you like to stop for supper before going home, or should I make something when we get back?"

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