BANG!
The door was kicked open violently. A man reeking of alcohol, his right arm wrapped in bandages and a bottle in his left hand, staggered into Karin's room.
"Get your ass out here!"
Not seeing Karin right away, the man immediately began cursing, his body emanating a vile stench — a mix of blood, booze, bad breath, and sweat — festering into a choking, sour stench.
"Can't you see I'm injured?!"
He continued his drunken tirade, grabbing random objects and hurling them to the floor.
"Ungrateful little brat — just like your dead mother."
"If it weren't for me and Kusagakure taking you two in, you'd have starved to death in the dirt!"
It was almost laughable — these grass shinobi treated Karin and her mother like livestock, and yet they expected gratitude for "giving them work" and "letting them survive."
They never once saw them as human — just walking blood bags.
Some of the more twisted shinobi had even proposed breeding more "supplies." After all, one blood bag wears out eventually.
Just like the last one.
Karin had only been spared because she was still too young — not yet able to bear children. If she made it to maturity… her fate would likely be far more tragic.
"Lord Takeda…" Karin struggled against the hunger tearing at her gut, forcing herself upright and squeezing out a polite smile.
If she didn't respond to being called, she'd get beaten.
If she hesitated, she'd get beaten.
If she forgot to use honorifics, got the name wrong, failed to smile — all reasons to get beaten.
These were lessons she'd learned the hard way in Kusagakure.
Even when she did everything right, there were times she was beaten just for stepping with the wrong foot.
"Can't you see I'm hurt?" Takeda slurred again, pointing to his feet. "Crawl over here."
Karin knew she was already half a beat too slow — another beating was inevitable.
Drunken men always hit harder.
She still remembered the time she was almost beaten unconscious.
It's okay… it's okay…
She trembled, whispering to herself in silent reassurance.
She had no one left. She could only rely on herself now.
"Lord Takeda… I haven't eaten in days," she said weakly, ignoring his stench and approaching him with a pitiful look.
Feigning innocence — it sometimes lessened the blows, even if it didn't stop them.
Showing disgust would get her hit worse.
"Could I have just a little—"
"Shut up!"
Takeda grabbed her fiery red hair, ignoring her struggle, and slammed her head into the floor with a dull thud.
Once… twice… three times…
THUD. THUD. THUD.
He giggled like a pig, exposing his rotted, yellow-black teeth and breathing putrid venom.
"You think you get paid when you can't even do your job right?"
"There's no food for you today."
Pain.
Her scalp burned. Her forehead felt like it had cracked open.
"Sorry… I'm sorry… so sorry…"
But the repeated apologies earned no mercy. Only more violence.
Karin wanted to fight back, but her frail, starving body had no strength. She could do nothing but endure.
And still, the physical pain paled in comparison to the anguish inside.
Why?
Why is this happening to me?
I didn't do anything wrong…
I just want to live.
Is it really so wrong to want to live?
She didn't understand why this village harbored such hatred toward her and her mother — or why they treated them like less than animals.
When Takeda finally released her, red strands slipped through his fingers like threads. He burped, foul and wet.
"Time to work."
He grabbed her thin arm and yanked her up. Then, without hesitation, he tore open the front of her shirt and opened his mouth, aiming straight for her exposed neck.
"No…"
Karin tried to push him away with what little strength she had left. She knew — if he bit her in her current state, she would die just like her mother: chakra drained, body broken.
"Bitch!" Takeda roared and backhanded her.
Her mind went blank as she collapsed to the ground.
She could no longer move.
Her eyelids drooped. Her breath grew faint.
Takeda loomed over her, reaching out with his filthy hand again.
Am I… going to die?
Maybe… maybe that wouldn't be so bad.
It might be a kind of release.
Karin's eyes fluttered closed.
THUD.
A heavy crash echoed in the room.
Then… she felt herself being lifted gently. Not violently — but carefully, tenderly. A warmth seeped into her body.
It reminded her of being in her mother's arms.
Mama...?
She tried to open her eyes. They barely cracked open to a sliver — just enough to see the swirl of a spiral mask.
Who…?
Who are you…?
She wanted to speak, but even breathing felt like a struggle. Just opening her eyes was her limit.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, sir! Please, spare me!" cried a voice — shrill and familiar.
Takeda.
That filthy monster.
"Was it this hand?"
A new voice asked calmly.
Then—
CRACK.
A sickening crunch of bone, followed by an agonized scream.
"Hurts, doesn't it? Good."
The calm voice again.
"We're just getting started."
"Is it here? Here? …Here?"
One after another, bones shattered.
Takeda's shrieks filled the room, until they dwindled into faint groans — until nothing was left.
Karin, barely conscious, felt something unexpected in her heart:
Satisfaction.
Whether her rescuer was an angel or a devil…
I'll follow you, wherever you go… for the rest of my life.
Author's Note:
Takeda is an original character created for narrative purposes and does not appear in the official Naruto canon. His role is meant to highlight the brutality and corruption within Kusagakure in this fan interpretation, and to deepen the emotional weight of Karin's backstory. The character is entirely fictional and serves only to support the themes of injustice and survival in a harsh ninja world.
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