A small girl, in the 'bed' next to him whimpered. She tried to kick the air, and her body was shaking. Her blonde hair stuck to her forehead with sweat, and tears poured like rivers from her swollen, bloodshot green eyes.
"Are you okay?" The little boy whispered.
She whimpered in pain a little more, she moved one arm to try and pull the IV drip out the other, but had so little energy, it fell on top of her.
"Girl!" He whispered. He didn't know her name. She was just the blonde girl who was next to him. She had been there a while, like that others she didn't talk much. Not that they could really talk, too tired, too scared. The only words they knew were 'Father', which is what the man had made them call him. To them it had no real meaning, not connection to a Father like figure. It was just a name for him. The other words they knew were just what they heard him say.
They had no names. The children only recognised each other by their faces, eye and hair colours. Even though, in some of them, especially the ones who died, their hair had quickly turned dark brown and their eyes black. They were scared of these children, as normally if they changed quickly, they would die soon after.
"Girl?" He murmured.
He watched her as she stopped shaking, her breathing slowed down and she stopped crying.
"Are you-"He felt his eyes spill over "Okay?"
He liked her; she had been there with him for a long time. Some of the others said they looked like each other, but they had no mirrors, so they relied on what the others saw. She was older, he didn't know how much, but she always calmed him down when he got scarred. She always tried to smile.
She stopped moving all together. Tears poured from his eyes, and he shook in fear. She stopped breathing. He felt a coldness running though his body. A few others looked over in their direction, some barely able to stay conscious. There were 14 now. He had seen all the others go. They all went in nearly the same way. Some had learned that the little bags on the end of the wires, when they got changed, they would feel better. The little bags made them better. Then when father came round, like he did nearly twice every day, he would stick a new needle in their tiny little arms and tell them it would 'make them better'.
It made him sick. He always felt sick after Father came to see him. Whether it was from his sickly smile, or what was being forced into his veins; it made him sick. His body felt like it tried to burn itself. When he tried to eat, if Father had given him medicine near the time, he would be sick.
The little bags helped. The numbed his body, to the point where he would look forward to having the bag changed, so he felt better.
Two weeks later, there was 11 left. The room near empty. Originally, 60 babies had been in there. Only 40 made it to the age of 1, 34 to 2, 27 to 3, 21 to 4, 18 to 5.
Father knew this and sometimes he would even laugh about it. The children didn't have any idea of the concept of years, nor did any know or ever have a birthday.
One day, just after the boy with the red hair had gone, the door in the corner, covered with Ivy opened. Light poured in, the boy's eyes burned, they had only ever seen the dim glow of the bulbs lighting the room. People came in through the door, one old man looked around and started shouting. He looked at the children and ordered other people to look at them.
The boy saw him find father, and go to fight him. Father got away though. He laughed at the man and got another way.
The boy was scarred. He wanted to cry, but he didn't have the strength.
The man turned to the other people and said something to them. They all took of the things covering their faces. They tried to talked to the children, they asked them if they had a 'name' how they felt, and what had happened.
A woman came to talk to the boy. She had long wavy blue hair, and light brown eyes. Another woman, a blonde woman, came over to look at him. She put her hands near him, and they glowed green. It made him feel better. It made some of the sickness go away.
"Do you have a name?" Asked the Blue haired woman.
The boy just starred at her.
The Man talked to the people again, and then left through the Ivy-door.
The blonde removed the wire from the boys arm. The bluette lifted him up from his 'bed' and carried him out. He saw the other people do the same with the other children.
His body felt heavy, as if something was pulling him down. He didn't want her to touch him, all he wanted to do was get down and run and hide. But even he knew, he would probably collapse from exhaustion after a few steps. So he just let the tiredness drag him down.
The room he woke up in was the complete opposite to the one he had been in all his life. Light spilled in from the windows, the room was bright, with comfier beds, and walls made of thin sheets of plastic hanging from frames. They had been pulled back and he could see around the whole room.
After a few moments he came to his senses, took a look up and down the room. He saw some of the others.
He saw five.
He looked to the corner of the room. Some people were gathered around. The blonde lady from before was over there. He tried to listen to what they were saying but he couldn't understand. She didn't sound happy.
He watched as they wheeled the bed out of the room.
He saw four.
He gave out a little cry and tears rolled down his face. He tried to pull his knees up to his chest, but his body felt so heavy, he was hardly able to wipe away his tears. It was just too much now. He's seen too many of them go. He just wanted it to stop, take him instead of them.
The blonde lady turned to look at him. She said something to the others. She walked over to him.
"Hello" She said. She tried to smile, but she was clearly unhappy "What's your name?"
The boy looked at her blankly.
"Do you have a name?" She asked again.
He averted his eyes and wiped his face.
"My name is Tsunade" she placed her hand on his leg. "How do you feel?" He quickly tried to get her hand off him. He tried to wave his arms and kick, but he just tangled the wires connected to him. She apologised quickly and steadied the IV that he wobbled.
He felt… better, less sick. The burning feeling had gone away. His body felt strange, lighter than it always had. In a little panic he looked around, he now saw all sorts of wires going in and out of him, little patches stuck to his chest and some tube in his nose.
Tsunade smiled at him "This may beodd, but may I take one of the hairs from your head?"
The boy was taken aback by this.
She looked at his hair. It was long and wavy, unwashed and uncut. It was almost white-blonde at the tips, then going up to the root, it passed through different shades of blonde, into a very light brown.
"O-Okay" He mumbled.
Tsunade then quickly pulled a few strands of hair from his head.
"Thank you" She said, stood up and left the room. The double doors shut behind her and she stood talking to people on the other side.
"So doctor, what're the odds?" sulked Jiraiya.
She put the hairs into a small plastic bag "Don't say it like that"
"How else am I support to say it?" He snapped. He was upset, they both were. Neither could believe that their god damn teammate had been running this under their noses for years.
She lent on the wall beside her, thought to herself and stared at her feet.
"The redhead girl won't last the night. The boy with black hair has no immune system, so if any, even a tiny pathogen comes in- he's gone too"
"That makes 58"
"The other girl is weak, she's still unconscious. The best one looks like the boy"
"Do they have names?"
She looked up to him. He looked rough, since they found the children, it had been 4 days. He tried to talk to Orochimaru, but failed.
"What was he even doing?" Jiraiya rubbed his temples.
"Follow me" She guided.
She rubbed her eyes a little "From the results we have so far, he was injecting them with the 1st DNA. Like some kind of gene therapy-"
"-Dear god. So that's why they're rejecting it?"
"Yes. And now I need to find out what else he gave them to try and keep them stable. But-" She sighed. Her eyes filled. "The odds of them pulling through are slim. If even they did, there would be all sorts of physical damage and they'd probably have a pathetic immune system. And then- even if they got past that, the emotional trauma might be too much for them. I mean- the ones that have woken up have spent most the time crying."
"Well he seemed shaken, just so stunned he didn't even register what was going on. I touched him and he started screaming"
"If they live- What are we going to do with them?" the man wondered. "They'll be emotional wrecks from this, I don't imagine an orphanage and foster care is going to help that" He thought for a moment "Do you think they understand what's happening to them?"
Tsunade looked through the window in the door "I hope not-" She choked "-If they did- It would really ruin them- But on the other hand- how can they not?" She turned back to him. Her eyes on the brink of tears "If they live, I imagine the psychiatric wards are going to have a job and a half"
"TSUNADE-SAMA!" A young nurse burst through the door. Tsunade ran back into the ward. The ginger girl was convulsing violently, vomiting up blood and screaming in-between.
The boys eyes shot open. He saw the girl. It was nothing new to him. He had seen so many others die in the same way, right before him. He watched from afar as she slowly died, doctors surrounding her, trying to help. He knew she couldn't be saved.
He felt something inside him fade away each time he saw this, and now he just felt scared, alone and just wanted to be them. So he could stop having to watch them die.
Then the white-haired man came into through the doors. He looked over to the boy and made his way over. He pulled the curtain back, so he didn't have to watch.
The boy whimpered slightly in fear.
"Shush- it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you" He soothed. His voice was different to Father's; it was softer and calming.
"My name is Jiraiya" He smiled. "Do you have a name?" He soothed. He slowly moved to sit on the chair by the side of the bed. They could hear Tsunade's shouting from beyond the curtain.
"I-I-" The boy stuttered and shook his head "I- d-d-on't-t have a-a a name"
"That's okay" Jiraiya smiled. He placed a hand on the boys leg, trying to calm him. It had the reverse effect. The boy tried to kick him off- panicking from the touch. "-Sorry!" He blurted. The fact the child didn't respond well to touch wasn't surprising, after all the man had no idea what had been done to him. "I'm sorry" He apologised again as he watched the boy rock to and fro. He looked so fragile, he just wanted to hide him from all harm. "So you don't have a name then?" He smiled at the boy "We need to change that" He soothed.
The boy looked up at him confused.
"How about we call you…" He paused to think of something that suited the boy "Tenzou?"
The boy nodded. His mouth tugged up a little at the corners. "Okay" He mumbled. If it wasn't for his eyes staring straight into Jiraiya's, he might have mistaken the voice for a ghost.
Jiraiya moved to his feet "Okay Tenzou, you stay here and rest. I'll come back later, make sure you're okay". He watched the boy nod slightly. "I need to go sort a few things out. If you need me" He got p and kept smiling "Just ask a nurse, and she'll get me"
He walked back into the hallway. Looking up and down. He saw a woman's bathroom.
He popped his head through and fond his target "You the only one in here?" He asked. She murmured something like a 'yes'; he came in and locked the main door behind him.
Tsunade was stood at the sink, frantically washing the girls blood off her hands.
"I can't do this" She cried.
"I've seen too many people die. I can't do it"
"Don't be like that-"
"-SHUT UP" She snapped. Her voice was hysterical "You- you don't get it do you? Orochimaru's basically killed these children- and- it's MY JOB to save them- all you have to do is stand there and look tough- it's not your fault if these kids live or die- ITS MINE"
He just hugged her for a while. He makeup leaving marks on his shirt as it ran.