The sky is red.

The ground is black.

Shackles restrain Sakura's ankles and wrists again, but she knows this time she's not stuck in a mental prison, or at least not in the usual one. She tries to wriggle out of her binds but freezes when she hears an empty laugh beside her ear, the person's breath grazing the skin of her neck.

"You don't seem too fazed about them," a man hums.

A pull on the chains startles Sakura.

"Are we used to being restrained, Sa-ku-ra?"

A hand crawls up her arm, then tangles in her shoulder-length hair before ascending to her neck and grabbing her chin. Sakura is forced to look in the man's direction and tenses upon recognizing Itachi.

"Where are we?"

"Inside your head, little girl," he answers, releasing her.

She gulps when he rounds her form and bends at eye level.

"You know, I could pierce your tiny body, again and again, until you reach the brink of madness, but something's telling me you'd be hard to break."

He uses a kunai to trace the scar on her collarbone.

"I have a better idea. Why don't we invite some of your friends to join us?"

Giant wooden crosses appear all around her. Her eyes, however, stay glued to the one in front, to her mother hanging by the wrists.

"Mommy? Mom? Wake up!"

Sakura lurches forward but is pulled back by the chains. She tries summoning chakra as Itachi lurks toward her mother with his blade still out.

"What's happening to me? Where's my chakra? Where are we?"

Her mother wakes up with a gasp and rests an icy glare on her daughter.

"This is all your fault; you know that? We wouldn't be here today if you had just listened to us and chosen the bakery. This is all your fault."

"Mom! I'm sorry," Sakura sobs and falls back to her knees, tears streaming down her face.

"Oh," Itachi cocks his head to the side. "That's interesting. You love them all very much and don't want them hurting."

He applies the blade to the woman's throat.

"But it seems what you fear the most is unrequited love."

In a swift movement, he cuts the ropes binding Sakura's mother to the cross. The woman falls to the ground with a thud, and Itachi kneels at her side.

"I think you'll need this," he whispers, offering the kunai to the prisoner.

The woman seizes the weapon and stands up, eyes boring into her daughter's watery gaze.

"What did I ever do to deserve such an ugly duckling like you?"

She steps forward, blade pointing at Sakura, and spits with disdain.

"Not to mention that you're an ungrateful brat. A worthless shinobi, not even able to bring money home, not pretty enough to find a suitable prospect. Who would want a skinny girl with pink hair, anyway?"

Sakura yells in pain when her mother pulls on her shoulder-length locks.

"Mom?"

She wriggles out of her mother's grip, casting pleading looks.

"Please, Mom. You don't mean it. You love me. Mom? You love—"

A blinding pain interrupts her, and she bends in two to discover the blade buried deep in her flesh. Black blood oozes out of the fresh wound as an uncomfortable burning settles in her stomach. Sakura glances up in alarm when she realizes what her mother did, but two ebony eyes meet her instead.

"Ugly," Sasuke says, pushing her back to the ground.

"Shallow."

She rolls to the side after the kick he sends to her ribs.

"Useless," he whispers, a hand squeezing her throat.

"Annoying."

Sasuke takes the blade out of her wound and laughs at the scream that leaves her mouth.

"You're disgusting, civilian," he spits before plunging the kunai into her heart with a wicked smile.

"Thank you, brother," Itachi says, loud enough to cover her screams. "Don't go too far; we'll need you again soon. But for now, let's see what daddy thinks of his little girl."

Sakura closes her eyes, her hands gripping the blade sticking out of her heart, sobs leaving her mouth as her father near her pathetic form.