Tortured Uchiha [CURRENTLY EDITING]

十六

J A I L   B I R D 

[Time Skip]  

      I only remembered Itachi for who he was, the man that lured me in was a stranger. He looked the same, but something was different―perhaps it was the look in his eyes, or the crack to his voice. Despite coming to my cell at any given moment, I didn't know him. 

     "Etsuko, you should really eat something." 

      I knew that death was inevitable, I'd accepted that during my arrest. Though, I didn't want to be executed in front of the clan and have my last dying moments swallowed by humiliation. No, I was going to starve myself. In my mind, the only way Fugaku would allow me out of prison would be in a body bag. 

     My cuffs ground together and provided sound between the silence. 

    I narrowed my eyes at the bars. Regardless of my protest, I kept my Mangekyou active at all times. 

     Itachi blinked at me dumbly from the other side, he still seemed oblivious to my hostility. I'd trusted him and was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt―but he stabbed me in the back. Because of him, Shisui and I were considered pawns, we were replaceable. 

    I should've expected this result―Danzo's Genjutsu was enough warning that shit would hit the fan eventually. 

     "Etsuko. . ." 

     In the confines of the jail, Itachi wept on his knees freely. His gloved hands almost had the strength to rattle the bars. I didn't bother giving him an inkling of sympathy. He brought this upon himself. 

    There was a tray of food next to him, if you could even call it that. I'd been eyeing it off silently for the past few minutes, my resolve was depleting with each grumble of my belly. Congealed rice and pickled ginger seemed to be the chef's specialty for today, though I assumed the guards had scraped the leftovers from the street. 

    Whimpering, he slid the tray under the metal slot for me to collect. 

     I ignored it completely and continued to glare. 

       Every time Itachi visited, he'd bring food for me to simply reject. It started off as small things, like a peach or plum, before he got the hint that it would take more to tickle my fancy. Itachi progressed to steamed vegetables and then to proteins―meagre things that would give me the sustenance I needed to survive, but I wouldn't take it. 

      He seemed to have reverted to the basics once more as a last ditch effort. 

      "Your condition will simply deteriorate," Itachi observed quietly.

     He was referring to my 'black outs'. I did nothing but sit on my arse day and night to the point where I'd lost track of how many days, weeks or months I'd been confined in solitude. The blackout periods were when my blood sugar got so low that I passed out for hours on end, and then Itachi had to convince Tekka and Yashiro to force feed me tasteless food pills to keep me conscious for another few days before the cycle repeated.

     "Why do you care?" I cocked my head. 

     This was the first time I'd spoken to him since he left me here. Upon his first visit, I cast a small Tsukuyomi on him. It was similar to the Genjutsu I'd used in the village against the vendor. I utilised flower petals to burn Itachi's skin until he was able to somewhat grasp how I felt―he ended up vomiting all over the floor afterwards. But I'm sure I was able to make my point clear.