Captor

"Three hours," the masked man stated, his tone making it clear this wasn't negotiable. "Get enough to last at least two months. I don't want these trips becoming regular occurrences."

Amarah nodded, trying not to show how her hands shook as she gripped the steering wheel. Sasuke and Naruto sat in the back seat, both unusually quiet. Sakura had been left at home – insurance of their return, though that went unspoken.

"The membership card is there," he continued, gesturing to an envelope on the passenger seat. "Remember, if anything seems suspicious—"

"Sakura pays the price," Amarah finished quietly. "We understand."

He vanished in his signature spiral, but they all knew he'd be watching somehow. They'd learned he always was.

The drive to Costco was tense. Naruto kept fidgeting until Sasuke elbowed him sharply. "Stop drawing attention to us, dobe."

"I'm not!" Naruto protested, but his voice lacked its usual volume. "I just... haven't been out of the house in so long."

Amarah caught his expression in the rearview mirror – a mix of excitement and anxiety that made her heart ache. These children should be free to experience the world, not treated like prisoners on a supervised excursion.

The parking lot was busy – weekend crowds doing their bulk shopping. Amarah's throat tightened as she realized how many potential witnesses there were. How many people who might notice something off about two children and a woman shopping with such careful, controlled movements.

"Remember," she said quietly as they walked toward the entrance, "act natural. Like we do this all the time."

Sasuke nodded slightly, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. Naruto tried to smile normally as the greeter checked their membership card, but it came out strained.

Inside, the store's massive scale seemed to overwhelm them for a moment. The high ceilings, wide aisles, endless rows of bulk items – it was a far cry from their confined existence at the house.

"Okay," Amarah said, pulling out her carefully prepared list. "Let's be systematic about this. Non-perishables first, then cold items. Naruto, get a second cart – we'll need it."

They moved through the aisles with careful efficiency. Sasuke handled the list, marking off items as they went. Naruto's natural energy was contained but useful as he lifted heavy items into the carts. They got rice in bulk, cases of ramen (Naruto's eyes lit up despite their situation), canned goods, dried fruits, nuts.

"The flour," Sasuke said quietly as they passed the baking aisle. "Get extra. It... helps. Having something to do."

Amarah understood what he wasn't saying. Their baking sessions had become precious moments of almost-normalcy in their increasingly controlled life. She added several large bags to the cart.

They were comparing protein bar options when a store employee approached. "Can I help you folks find anything?"

Amarah felt both boys tense beside her. "No, thank you," she said, keeping her voice casual. "Just stocking up for a big family."

"Oh yeah?" The employee smiled at the boys. "You guys helping mom with the shopping?"

There was a terrible moment of silence before Naruto's training kicked in. "Yep!" he said, managing a believable grin. "Amarah-nee – I mean, mom – always makes us help with the heavy stuff."

The employee laughed and moved on. Once he was out of earshot, Sasuke muttered, "Your acting is still terrible."

"At least I tried! You just stood there like a statue, teme!"

"Boys," Amarah warned quietly, seeing how their raised voices had drawn a few glances. They immediately fell silent, the reminder of their situation heavy in the air.

They got through the dry goods and moved to the cold section. Meat, cheese, frozen vegetables – anything that would last. Amarah tried not to think about how their world had shrunk so much that even grocery shopping had become a carefully planned operation.

"One hour left," Sasuke murmured, checking his watch. The masked man had synchronized their times before they left, another way to maintain control.

They were nearly done when Naruto stopped suddenly, staring at something. Amarah followed his gaze to a display of colorful candy boxes.

"Sakura likes those," he said softly. "The strawberry ones. She mentioned it once, back in... before."

Amarah added a box to the cart without comment. These small moments of consideration, of remembering each other's likes and comfort – they were another form of resistance against their captor's control.

The checkout line was the most stressful part. So many people, so many opportunities for something to go wrong. The total made Amarah wince, but she paid with the money their captor had provided. The cashier chatted pleasantly about bulk shopping for families, and Amarah managed appropriate responses while the boys carefully loaded items into the carts.

Loading the car was a swift, silent operation. They had forty minutes left – enough time to get home if traffic cooperated. Naruto kept glancing at the other cars in the parking lot, and Amarah knew he was thinking the same thing she was: how easy it would be to call for help, to try to escape.

But Sakura was waiting at home. And their captor was watching. Always watching.

The drive back was even tenser than the trip out. Every red light felt like a threat. Every slow car in front of them made Sasuke's hands clench in his lap.

They pulled into the driveway with twelve minutes to spare. The masked man was waiting, visible this time, standing on the porch with Sakura beside him. His hand rested almost casually on her shoulder, but they all understood the threat.

"Well?" he asked as they began unloading items.

"Everything on the list," Amarah reported. "Enough for at least two months."

He nodded, releasing Sakura, who immediately moved to help bring in groceries. They worked quickly, efficiently, putting everything away in its designated space. Their captor watched the entire process, head tilted slightly.

"Good," he finally said. "This will be our new system. Bulk supplies, minimal outings. More time to focus on what matters."

What matters. He kept using that phrase, and it scared Amarah more each time. Because what seemed to matter to him was becoming increasingly focused on their strange household dynamic.

That evening, as they put away the last of the supplies, Amarah overheard the children whispering in the pantry.

"—saw so many people," Naruto was saying. "Normal people, just shopping, not worried about—"

"Stop," Sasuke cut him off. "Don't think about it. It doesn't help."

"But—"

"He's right," Sakura said softly. "We can't... we can't think about normal anymore. This is our normal now. At least until..."

She trailed off, but they all understood. Until they got stronger. Until they found a weakness. Until something changed.

Later that night, after the kids were asleep, Amarah found their captor standing in the kitchen, examining their newly stocked shelves.

"Organized," he commented. "Efficient. Good."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked before she could stop herself. "Why make us more isolated than we already were?"

He was quiet for a long moment. "The outside world is a distraction," he finally said. "A corruption. Reality is cruel, but here... here we can create something different. Something..." He stopped, and she could feel him struggling with words he wouldn't say.

"Something perfect?" she suggested, remembering his earlier comments.

"Something real," he corrected, and vanished before she could process what that meant.

Amarah stood in the kitchen for a long time after he left, looking at their carefully organized supplies. Two months worth of food. Two months without needing to leave. Two months of complete isolation except for these walls and each other and him.

She found herself touching the box of strawberry candy they'd bought for Sakura, this small act of rebellion hidden among their approved purchases. Tomorrow she'd give it to the girl, watch her eyes light up with surprise and remembered joy.

Their world was shrinking, but they could still find ways to make it bearable. Still find ways to remind each other that they were human, that they cared, that they hadn't lost everything.

Even if their captor's idea of "real" seemed to be getting more twisted by the day.