Chapter Text
SASUKE’S ARRIVAL
New York blurred past in streaks of neon and shadow. Sasuke watched it from the backseat, head resting against cold glass, going nowhere inside himself. Orochimaru's voice hummed beside him, speaking into his phone about final arrangements. The words meant nothing. They never did.
The flight from Japan had taken fourteen hours. Sasuke barely remembered it. Tokyo, the estate where he'd spent ten years being shaped into this, all of it distant and unreal. Someone else's life.
Seventeen years old for two weeks now. The age that completed the arrangement.
His reflection stared back from the window, dark eyes empty of anything resembling thought. The boy in the glass had died at seven in Japan, when his family fell. What remained was polished, refined, prepared. Orochimaru had spent a decade making sure of it.
Everything had been preparation for one man. The languages, the music, the manners, the absolute compliance. All of it for this moment. For him. The man who'd been waiting across an ocean while Orochimaru crafted his prize.
But language and music weren't the only skills Orochimaru had cultivated. Sasuke had been taught other things too. The arts of pleasure. How to use his body, his hands, his mouth. How to perform, to please, to make himself into whatever a client wanted him to be. Orochimaru had loaned him out over the years, to men who paid handsomely for nights or weeks or sometimes months with the beautiful omega boy being groomed in Tokyo. Part of his education, Orochimaru called it. Ensuring he would be skilled enough, experienced enough, perfectly trained to satisfy the man who had owned him since he was seven, even if they'd never met."
Sasuke stopped counting hands years ago. How many beds he'd been placed in. How many times he'd floated up to the ceiling and let his body do what it had been trained to do while his mind went somewhere far away. He wasn't innocent. Had never been allowed innocence. But he'd also never been touched by someone who wanted HIM rather than what he could provide. Never known intimacy that wasn't a transaction or training.
He was seventeen years old and had never been kissed by someone who loved him.
And his Omega, the part of him that should have ached for connection, that should have yearned for a mate and a bond and something real, was as hollow as the rest of him. It had withdrawn years ago, retreating so deep inside that Sasuke sometimes forgot it existed at all. The suppressants helped. Five years of daily pills that kept his heats from ever manifesting, that numbed the biological urges being saved for the man waiting for him. But even before the suppressants, his Omega had learned to hide. To go quiet. To stop reaching for things that only brought pain.
Orochimaru had trained it well. Conditioned it to respond to certain scents, certain commands, certain men. Whatever spark of instinct might have once guided it toward a true match had been buried under years of manipulation. His Omega didn't yearn anymore. Didn't hope. Didn't recognize anything except the patterns it had been taught.
Just like Sasuke himself.
Two hollow things sharing one body, waiting to be told what to do next.
The car slowed. Stone and glass rose before them; isolated wealth tucked away from the city's prying eyes. Late August heat pressed against the windows, but the car's climate control kept everything regulated. Sasuke didn't notice either way. Temperature was something that happened to bodies, and he'd stopped living in his a long time ago.
"We're here." Orochimaru's hand on his shoulder, proprietary, about to complete the transfer. "Remember everything I taught you."
As if Sasuke could forget. Smile when expected. Speak when spoken to. Play beautifully. Recite poetry in four languages. Be the doll Orochimaru had crafted from a broken child.
The door opened. Warm air hit Sasuke's face. He stepped out smoothly, practiced grace in every movement.
Orochimaru had dressed him for this moment. A tailored coat in deep midnight blue, silk lining against the fitted cashmere sweater beneath. Slim trousers that elongated his already slender frame. Soft Italian leather shoes. His dark hair fell in soft, dark waves past his jaw, longer than most boys wore it, framing his face in a way that emphasized delicate features. Androgynous. Artful. The kind of hair that made strangers uncertain whether to call him pretty or handsome, and that uncertainty was the point. His owner had requested this look. Elegant. Ethereal. Feminine in a manner that made powerful men want to possess him.
Blue. Always blue. Orochimaru had discovered early that the color made Sasuke's pale skin glow, made his dark eyes appear bottomless. Had built an entire wardrobe around it. Sapphire and navy and midnight and cobalt. Colors of deep water and winter twilight. Colors that made him look like something from a painting rather than a person.
Gravel crunched under those expensive shoes he hadn't chosen. Clothes he hadn't picked. A life he'd never asked for.
"Exquisite." The voice came from the mansion's entrance. Silver hair caught the light from overhead fixtures. Expensive suit, predator's smile. "Even better than the photographs."
This was him. His purpose. The man he was made for.
The one who'd received reports, videos, progress updates for a decade while Orochimaru shaped him in Tokyo. The one who'd been waiting.
Sasuke stood still. Let himself be looked at. Appraised.
The man descended the steps slowly, circling. Sasuke kept his eyes forward, his breathing even, his face empty. Training held him immobile while this stranger examined his worth.
"Finally." The man's voice carried deep satisfaction. "In person. After all these years of watching you grow into this. All those glowing reports from your trainers. From the clients who sampled you along the way." His smile widened. "They all said you were extraordinary. I've been waiting to find out for myself."
Orochimaru stepped forward. "As agreed, seventeen years old, perfected in everything you specified."
"The videos didn't do you justice." Fingers traced along Sasuke's jaw, tilting his face toward the light. "You're even more beautiful than I imagined."
Beautiful. The word people used when they looked at porcelain dolls in glass cases. Pretty things with painted faces and empty eyes. Sasuke had heard it his whole life. It stopped meaning anything around age nine.
"Fully suppressed," Orochimaru added, voice carrying quiet pride. "No heats. Ready for you."
"A male Omega." The satisfaction deepened, almost reverent. "Mine. Finally."
The waiting was over.
Orochimaru left without looking back. The car door closed, the engine started, taillights disappeared into darkness. Sasuke watched it go and felt nothing. This was always how it ended.
People delivered him places and left.
His mother's last words echoed distantly: Run, Sasuke. Run.
She'd died trying to protect him. His father Fugaku had fought. Itachi had thrown himself between Sasuke and the attackers. All of them died that night while seven-year-old Sasuke hid and survived.
He didn't know who ordered it. Didn't know why his family had been targeted. Only knew that someone powerful had wanted them destroyed, and when the blood stopped flowing, Orochimaru had appeared with promises of safety and a purpose for the broken child left behind.
They died because he was rare. Because male Omegas were worth more than gold in certain circles. Because powerful men collected beautiful things and wouldn't stop until they owned them.
"Come." A hand found his elbow, guiding him forward. "Let me show you your room. I'm Danzo Shimura, by the way. The man you were made for."
Made for him. At least he was honest about it.
The mansion swallowed them. Marble floors, high ceilings, artwork worth more than most people's houses. Luxury as a cage. Sasuke had lived in places like this his whole life. Orochimaru's Tokyo estate had been equally beautiful, equally empty.
The bedroom was too large, too immaculate. King bed with silk sheets, floor to ceiling windows overlooking manicured gardens. The door closed behind them. The lock clicked. Sasuke heard it. Barely registered it. Locks were meaningless when you'd forgotten what freedom felt like.
He stood in the center of the room, hands at his sides, waiting for instructions.
"You're lovely." Danzo circled him again, slower. "But you need something. A finishing touch."
From his pocket, a small velvet box. He opened it with careful fingers. Inside, a sapphire stud, deep blue, flawless. Light caught in its depths.
"To mark what I've waited ten years to finally possess. Come here."
Sasuke moved. Stood where directed. Tilted his head when Danzo's fingers pressed his chin to the side. Let himself be positioned like he'd been taught.
The pierce gun was cold against his earlobe. The sharp pain came fast, clinical, intimate in its violation. Sasuke didn't flinch. Hadn't flinched in years. His body knew better than to react.
Danzo fastened the sapphire with care, possessive in every movement. His fingers lingered, tracing the curve of Sasuke's ear, the line of his jaw. "Flawless," he breathed. "So everyone knows you're mine."
The sapphire pressed into his skin, immediate and wrong, a physical marker of ownership.
Danzo stepped back, admiring his work. His eyes traveled over Sasuke with hunger barely contained. "Magnificent." A smile curved his lips. "Worth every year of waiting."
"Thank you." The expected response. Sasuke gave it automatically.
Danzo moved closer again, his hand sliding down Sasuke's arm. "Take off your clothes."
Sasuke's fingers found the first button of his shirt. Muscle memory took over. He'd done this before. Would do it again.
His mind drifted somewhere else while his hands worked. Up near the ceiling where he could watch his body move through the motions. The shirt fell away. Fabric pooling at his feet like shed skin.
Danzo's eyes traveled over him with the look of a man who'd finally received a long-awaited package. Sasuke stood there, naked and marked, while somewhere far away birds flew over endless ocean. White wings against blue sky. Free and wild and everything he wasn't.
Numbers arranged themselves in his head. One, one, two, three, five, eight, thirteen. Fibonacci sequence carrying him away from his body, from this room, from what came next.
Somewhere in his mind, he was still seven years old. Still hiding while his family fought and fell. Still hearing his mother's last words.
Run, Sasuke. Run.
But there was nowhere to run. There never had been.
----
Later, alone in his new cage, Sasuke stood at the window. Outside, darkness spread across the gardens. New York stretched beyond the walls. Somewhere in this country, people were free. People who chose their own clothes, rooms, lives. People who'd never been groomed for a singular role.
Tomorrow's outfit was already laid out on the velvet chair. Blue, of course. A flowing top with traditional Japanese elements, modern trousers tailored to make him look even more slender than he was. Silver accessories arranged beside it. Danzo had been specific about what he wanted, and the staff had complied.
Ten years of this. Ten years of being dressed like a doll, positioned like furniture, admired like art. Sasuke couldn't remember the last time he'd chosen what to wear. Couldn't remember if he even had preferences anymore. Blue was what he wore. Elegant was what he was. Beautiful was what he existed to be.
His hand rose, fingers finding the sapphire. It throbbed slightly. Metal and stone, but it felt heavier than it should.
The bed was too soft when he lay down. The sheets too expensive. Everything this man owned was expensive. Now including Sasuke.
He stared at the ceiling, counting patterns in the plaster. Sequences and progressions requiring no emotion. Somewhere in his mind, birds flew over endless ocean. Free and wild and everything he wasn't.
Eventually, sleep came. It always did.
NARUTO WATCHING
Naruto couldn't sleep. Nothing new about that. Twelve years in this house had taught him insomnia like a second language.
He paced his bedroom, third floor, restless energy burning through him the way it always did in the dead hours. Two in the morning. The hour when Danzo preferred to conduct business he didn't want seen in daylight.
His fingers found his left ear without thinking, pressing the yellow sapphire that had been there since his eighth birthday. A nervous habit Shikamaru always called him out on.
Tonight was different.
Tonight, after years of hearing about him, the Omega was finally arriving.
Danzo had been obsessed for as long as Naruto could remember. Years of hearing about the ideal male Omega being groomed in Japan. The rarest acquisition. 0.02 percent of Omegas are male, Danzo had said a thousand times, like a prayer. Male Omegas were the most coveted in the trafficking world.
And this one had been bred specifically for him.
Last week, Danzo had called him into his office. Opened a velvet box with careful fingers. Inside, a sapphire stud, deep blue, flawless.
"Yellow and blue. My complete set," Danzo had said, voice carrying years of planning.
Naruto had stared at the blue sapphire, his hand flying unconsciously to his own yellow one. The twin that would mark whatever broken thing arrived tonight.
"When he arrives," Danzo had continued, closing the box with a soft click, "you'll help me keep him safe. Others will covet him. Try to steal him. You're my weapon, Naruto. Your job is to make sure no one touches what's mine."
Another boy to watch suffer while Naruto stayed silent and useful.
Headlights cut through the darkness now, pulling Naruto back to the present. A black sedan, expensive and discreet, pulled up to the entrance.
This was it.
The driver's door opened first. An older man emerged, pale and angular. Orochimaru. The groomer. The one who'd been preparing this boy for a decade.
The back door opened.
Even from three floors up, even in the dim spill of the porch lights, Naruto understood immediately why Danzo had waited so long for this one.
The boy who stepped out moved like water, fluid and graceful and completely unconscious of it. Dark hair fell past his jaw, longer than most boys wore it, styled to frame a face that belonged in art museums. He was dressed in shades of blue so deep they looked black until the light caught them, elegant and expensive and deliberately, almost painfully beautiful. The kind of beauty that was cultivated, curated, designed to make people stare.
And it worked. Naruto couldn't look away.
But it was the contrast that got him. That carefully constructed exterior, all silk and softness and feminine grace, wrapped around something that wasn't soft at all. The boy held himself like he was made of glass and knew it. Like he'd learned long ago that beautiful things broke, and the only way to survive was to become so perfect that no one would dare.
Breathtaking. Even from here, even hollowed out and empty-eyed, absolutely breathtaking. Not because of the clothes or the styling or whatever expensive products made his hair catch the light like that. But because underneath all of it, Naruto could see someone real. Someone trapped. Someone who'd been turned into a doll and forgotten they'd ever been anything else.
Something about him made the air different. Made Naruto's skin prickle with awareness he couldn't name. Some scent on the breeze, faint and confusing, cutting through the distance in ways that shouldn't be possible.
But he pushed the sensation aside, watching as Danzo descended the steps to circle his newest prize. Watching as the boy stood motionless, let himself be examined like furniture. That kind of stillness wasn't learned overnight. That was years of training. That was what you looked like when you'd been groomed into a dressed-up doll.
The boy's face was what got him, though. Nothing. Absolutely nothing behind those eyes. No fear, no resignation, no anger. Emptiness so complete it was like looking into a void.
Orochimaru got back in the car. Drove away without looking back. The boy watched the taillights disappear with the same vacant expression he'd worn since arriving.
Danzo's hand on the boy's elbow, guiding him toward the entrance. They disappeared inside the mansion.
The door closed behind them.
That's when it hit.
The scent hit, and Naruto’s knees buckled. He caught himself on the window frame, fingers digging into wood hard enough to splinter, gasping for air that suddenly tasted like copper and lightning.
What the hell?
His body bent double, something lancing through his chest that wasn't quite pain. A different sensation altogether. One that made every nerve ending light up and scream.
The scent was everywhere now. Overwhelming. Wrong in ways that made his Alpha instincts recoil even as they reached for it desperately.
It was layered. The surface level hit first, sharp and commanding, like ozone and leather and chemicals that screamed artificial. Made his Alpha recoil from the wrongness even as it reached desperately for what lay beneath.
Danzo's scent preference. The modifications Orochimaru had spent years engineering.
But underneath that manufactured wrongness, buried so deep Naruto's Alpha had to claw through the artificial layers to find it, was the truth.
Clean, real and unmistakable.
Like winter rain on stone and something sweet he couldn't name. Perfect. The kind of scent that made every cell in his body sit up and pay attention.
Naruto forced himself upright, breathing hard. His hands shook. Every Alpha instinct he'd learned to control over twelve years of captivity was suddenly howling at him in a language he barely understood.
Protect. Claim. Go to him. MINE.
The word exploded through his blood, primal and absolute. Naruto's knees hit the floor.
This wasn't attraction. This wasn't Alpha instinct responding to a rare Omega. This was biology recognizing its match.
True mate.
The realization hit, and Naruto almost laughed. Would have laughed if he could breathe. Of course. Of fucking course.
The boy downstairs, the one Danzo had spent ten years waiting for, the one who'd been groomed and broken and delivered like cargo, was his true mate.
"No," Naruto breathed, pressing his forehead against the cold glass. "No. Not him. Please not him."
But biology didn't care about pleading. The bond was already trying to form, reaching through the mansion's floors and walls, demanding recognition. Demanding he go to his mate. Demanding he protect what was his.
Except his mate wasn't his. He belonged to Danzo Shimura.
Every instinct screamed to move, to break down every door between them, to rip his mate away from the man who owned them both.
Naruto's body tried to obey. His muscles tensed, ready to fight, ready to claim what biology said was his.
But he couldn't.
Not because of the beating that would follow. Naruto would take that gladly.
But Danzo wouldn't stop at beating him. Danzo would kill his crew. Shikamaru, Kiba, Rock Lee, Sakura and Ino. Everyone Naruto cared about would be executed if he stepped out of line. Danzo had made that clear years ago.
And Kurama's voice echoed in his head, the brother who'd raised him, who'd taught him loyalty before Danzo's men cut him down: You protect your people. No matter what.
Kurama had died protecting Naruto. Thrown himself in front of bullets meant for a seven year old who couldn't run fast enough. His last words: Run. Keep running. Don't let them catch you.
Naruto hadn't run fast enough. Danzo had caught him anyway.
And now, twelve years later, he couldn't let anyone else die for him.
So Naruto stayed on his knees by the window, gripping the frame until his hands bled, while his mate was three floors below in a locked room with Danzo Shimura.
Being touched. Being used. Right now. This exact moment.
And Naruto couldn't do a single damn thing about it.
----
A knock at his door made him jerk upright. He recognized the rhythm, the lazy tap that could only be Shikamaru.
"It's open," he managed.
Shikamaru slipped inside, took one look at Naruto on the floor, and closed the door behind him. "Saw the car arrive." He crossed the room and sat on the edge of Naruto's bed, studying him with calculating eyes. "You look like you're dying."
"Feel like it."
"What happened?"
Naruto pressed his palms against his eyes. The scent was still there, still everywhere, still destroying him. "I can't explain it."
"Try."
"You're Beta. You wouldn't understand."
Shikamaru was quiet for a moment. "The new kid. Danzo's prize Omega." It wasn't a question. "Something about his scent?"
Naruto laughed, but it came out broken. "Yeah. Something about his scent."
"Bad?"
"The opposite." Naruto's hands dropped to his lap. He stared at them, at the blood where splinters had dug in. "The exact opposite."
Shikamaru went still. Really still. Then: "Shit."
"Yeah."
"True mate?"
Naruto couldn't answer. Couldn't say it out loud. But his silence was answer enough.
Shikamaru exhaled slowly. "Of all the people in the world. Danzo's new toy turns out to be your..." He trailed off, running a hand over his face. "That's cosmically fucked up."
"Tell me about it."
"What are you going to do?"
"Nothing." The word tasted like ash. "What can I do? Go down there, try to take him? Danzo kills all of you. Every single one." Naruto looked up at Shikamaru. "I can't risk that. Even for..."
He couldn't finish the sentence.
Shikamaru nodded slowly. "So you survive it."
"I survive it."
"For how long?"
"However long I have to."
They sat in silence. Somewhere below, Naruto's mate was in a locked room with another Alpha. Being taken. Being violated in every way except the permanent one. And Naruto could smell him through floors and walls, could feel the recognition tearing through him, could do nothing except sit here and let it destroy him.
"Get some sleep," Shikamaru said finally, standing. "Breakfast is at eight. You know Danzo's going to want to show him off."
"I know."
"And Naruto?" Shikamaru paused at the door. "Whatever you're feeling right now, don't let it show at that table. The second Danzo figures out you're true mates, you're both dead."
"I know."
The door closed. Naruto was alone again.
He stayed on the floor for a long time, back against the wall, the yellow sapphire pressed against his palm. Twelve years of this earring. Twelve years of being owned. And now his true mate was somewhere in this house, wearing the blue sapphire that made them a matched set.
The sick joke of it would be hilarious if Naruto could breathe. Danzo wanted matching pets. Got matching mates instead.
Tomorrow he would sit across from him at Danzo's table. Learn his name. Pretend his entire world hadn't shattered and reformed around one devastating truth.
Somewhere between the bond trying to form and the knowledge of what defiance would cost, exhaustion finally dragged him under into broken sleep.
FIRST BREAKFAST
Naruto forced himself downstairs at seven fifty-five, eyes burning from the broken sleep. Every time he'd closed his eyes, the scent had pulled him back, winter rain threading through his dreams until he couldn't tell what was real and what was longing.
Voices from the kitchen made him pause at the bottom of the stairs. Danzo's voice, carrying that particular tone he used when laying down law.
Naruto moved closer. Stood in the shadow of the doorway where he could see without being seen.
The household staff had been assembled. Cooks, cleaners, attendants, everyone who kept the mansion running. They stood in a neat line while Danzo paced before them, hands clasped behind his back like a general addressing troops.
"The boy who arrived last night is not to be touched," Danzo said, voice cold and precise. "Not a hand on his shoulder. Not fingers brushing his arm. Nothing. He is mine and mine alone. Is that understood?"
Murmured assent from the line.
"You will not speak to him unless spoken to first. You will not make eye contact. You will not ask him questions about his past, his preferences, his feelings." Danzo paused, letting the weight of each rule settle. "He is not your friend. He is not a guest. He is my property. You will treat him as such."
Naruto's hands curled into fists at his sides.
"His name is Sasuke. You will address him as 'sir' or not at all. His meals will be prepared exactly as I specify. His clothing will be laid out each morning according to my instructions. His schedule is my schedule. His life is my decision."
Danzo smiled, and it didn't reach his eyes.
"I have waited ten years for him. He is the culmination of a decade of planning, of investment, and of patience. He is perfect, and he is mine. Anyone who damages that perfection, who touches what belongs to me, who disrupts the environment I am creating for him..." The pause stretched. "Will be dealt with accordingly. Questions?"
No one dared speak.
"Good. Dismissed."
The staff scattered. Naruto pressed himself against the wall as they filed past, then slipped toward the dining room before Danzo could spot him.
Sasuke. His mate's name was Sasuke.
And Danzo had just made it crystal clear exactly what the boy was to him. Property. Investment. Something to be controlled down to the smallest detail.
Naruto wanted to put his fist through a wall.
Instead, he walked into the dining room and sat in his usual chair on Danzo's left. The chair he'd occupied alone for twelve years.
The room was all marble and crystal, too large for three people. Staff moved through the space with practiced invisibility, setting the table with careful precision. They avoided Naruto's eyes now too; still shaken from the briefing they'd just endured.
The chair on Danzo's right sat empty. Waiting.
Footsteps on the stairs. Naruto's entire body went rigid.
Danzo appeared first, triumph radiating from him like heat. Then came Sasuke.
The scent hit Naruto before he even saw him clearly. Tore through his chest. Artificial layers harsh and commanding, ozone and leather. Danzo's preference. Orochimaru's modifications.
But underneath, buried deep, the truth. Winter rain on stone. Something sweet. His.
Naruto gripped the edge of the table. His knuckles went white.
Sasuke stepped into full view and Naruto's world narrowed to a single point.
Danzo had dressed him this morning. Of course he had. A traditional Japanese-inspired ensemble in layers of blue, the outer piece flowing like water when he moved, embroidered with silver thread so fine it was almost invisible until the light caught it. Beneath that, something softer, clinging to his slender frame. His hair had been styled again, pinned back on one side with a delicate silver clip that drew attention to the sapphire in his ear. His lips looked darker than they should, tinted with something subtle. His eyes, already striking, had been lined with the faintest touch of kohl.
A living doll. A work of art. Everything about him designed to be looked at, admired and coveted.
And Naruto hated it. Hated the way the costume erased the person underneath. Hated that he could see exactly what Danzo was doing, feminizing him, making him into a fantasy rather than a human being. Hated that it worked, that he was genuinely beautiful, and that the beauty was a prison he'd probably been locked in since childhood.
But underneath the silk and silver, underneath the careful styling and the tinted lips, Naruto could see him. The real him. The exhaustion in those dark eyes. The way his hands stayed perfectly still because he'd learned that fidgeting got punished. The mechanical precision of his movements, nothing spontaneous, nothing natural remaining.
The blue sapphire caught the morning light. Matching his outfit. Matching his prison.
This was what a decade of grooming looked like. This was what you became when someone spent years breaking you into the perfect product.
Danzo settled into his chair at the head of the table, pride radiating from him. "Naruto, meet Sasuke. Sasuke, this is Naruto. You'll be seeing a lot of each other."
Danzo's eyes stayed on Naruto, watching his reaction with barely concealed amusement. "He was exquisite last night. Even better than I imagined." His hand reached out, touching the blue sapphire with possessive fingers. "Do you like it, Naruto? The blue sapphire? It completes the set."
Exquisite. Last night. The words painted pictures Naruto's Alpha howled against.
Sasuke stood still while Danzo touched him. Dissected him. Talked about him like he wasn't there. His face remained blank. He was used to this. Used to being discussed like an object.
"Hello," Sasuke said. Flat, empty and automatic.
Naruto tried to speak. His throat closed up. He forced air through it. "Hey."
Danzo gestured to the empty chair. "Sit, darling. Let's have breakfast."
Sasuke moved with practiced grace. Sat where directed. Placed his napkin in his lap with careful precision. Every movement choreographed.
The matched set was complete now. Yellow and blue catching the light. Both marked. Both owned.
Staff brought food. Eggs, toast, fresh fruit. Sasuke's plate landed in front of him and Naruto watched something flicker across his face. Not quite dread. More like resignation.
He picked up his fork. Took a small bite. His throat worked as he forced it down.
Too thin. Not eating enough. The observations came unwanted. Naruto's Alpha assessing everything wrong, everything that needed fixing, everything he couldn't touch.
And underneath the assessment, something else. His Alpha reaching out, instinctively, the way it had been doing since the scent first hit. Searching for the Omega that should be there. For the response that biology promised. For any flicker of recognition.
Nothing. Absolute silence. Like reaching for something that didn't exist.
Naruto's hand clenched under the table. His Alpha recoiled, confused and wounded. His mate was RIGHT THERE but the Omega inside him was... gone. Buried or broken or both.
He forced his expression to stay neutral. Forced his body to stay still.
Danzo turned his attention to Sasuke. "You're barely eating." His voice stayed pleasant but carried an edge. "I have a special place in this house. A library. Beautiful room, floor-to-ceiling books. One hour each day, five to six in the evening. It's yours." He paused, letting the gift settle. "As long as you behave."
Sasuke's spine straightened slightly. Not much. Enough to show the words had landed. His fork moved faster. Bites still small but more frequent. Forcing compliance through his body's resistance.
Already using freedom as leverage. Already holding his only hour hostage.
Danzo's eyes caught on Naruto's hands, the torn skin, dried blood, but he said nothing. "The Chicago shipment?
Right. Business. Normal breakfast conversation. Like everything was fine.
"Arriving tonight," Naruto managed. His voice came out rougher than intended. "Shikamaru's handling the pickup."
"Good. And the territory dispute in Brooklyn?"
"Resolved. They won't be a problem anymore."
Naruto answered on autopilot, his brain operating on muscle memory. He couldn't stop watching Sasuke from the corner of his eye. The way he held his cup. The careful way he cut his food into precise pieces. The way he sat motionless when not actively required to move.
Every movement was trained. Nothing spontaneous or natural remained.
Danzo's hand found Sasuke's shoulder, possessive and claiming. "Sasuke speaks four languages fluently. Japanese, English, French, and Mandarin. Don't you, darling?"
"Yes, sir."
"Demonstrate for Naruto."
Sasuke switched languages without hesitation. French first, the words flowing flawlessly. Something about being honored to be here, grateful for the opportunity. Then Mandarin. Then Japanese. Each language delivered with the same flat precision, like he was reciting from a script.
A trained seal performing tricks.
When Sasuke finished, Danzo's fingers traced along Sasuke's jaw. "Magnificent, isn't he?
Naruto's nails bit into his palms under the table.
The rest of breakfast passed in torture. Danzo held court between them, discussing business with Naruto while occasionally touching Sasuke, adjusting him, reminding him of his place. Sasuke ate mechanically, small bites forced down, eyes fixed on nothing.
Finally, Danzo pushed back from the table. "I trust you'll keep the Chicago shipment running smoothly."
"Yes, sir."
"Good." Danzo stood, offering his hand to Sasuke. "Come, darling. We have a full day ahead. I want to show you the gardens, introduce you to the staff. Let everyone see what ten years of patience has brought me."
Sasuke rose with practiced grace. "Thank you for breakfast."
He didn't look at Naruto. Didn't acknowledge him at all. Followed Danzo toward the door with complete obedience.
At the threshold, Danzo paused. Looked back at Naruto with something like triumph in his eyes. "Isn't he perfect? Everything I imagined and more."
Naruto couldn't answer. Could only watch as Sasuke walked away with another Alpha's hand on his back.
The door closed behind them.
Naruto sat alone at the table, surrounded by the ruins of breakfast, the scent of winter rain fading with every step Sasuke took away from him.
His mate. His true mate. Walking toward a day of being shown off like a prize horse. Toward a day of submission and performances. Toward a night of things Naruto couldn't let himself think about.
And tomorrow would be the same. Breakfast across from him. Meetings where they'd both be present. The same house, the same air, the same unbearable closeness.
Unable to touch. Unable to save. Unable to claim.
This was his life now.
Naruto's hand found his ear, pressing the yellow sapphire until it hurt.
Somewhere in this mansion, Sasuke was learning the same lessons Naruto had learned at seven. What it meant to be property. What it meant to follow the rules. What it meant to forget you'd ever been anything else.
Two caged birds who'd forgotten how to fly.
Both marked with sapphires that caught the light.
Both owned by the same man.
Both trapped in different kinds of cages.
CHAPTER 2: TEASER
Naruto barely made it through breakfast. Sasuke barely made it through the day. But somewhere between the silence of the staff and the weight of Danzo's hands, there was a library. And a question no one had ever asked him before: Can I come in?