And They Stood Still
He stared at her intently. He hadn't meant for this, but part of him just longed to stay a bit longer. To linger around her. Simply by feeling her presence he somehow felt that wonderful bliss feeling of nostalgia.
He felt the cool September wind pick up a little. The breeze mingled with her sweet shampoo, making him inhale and settle into a pure feeling of sadness and guilt. He had lost her, why was he longing her so?
He was the one to ignore her pleads, and leave her, unconscious at it, when she needed him most.
Yet here he was, staying close to the shadows, watching her practice varying jutsu techniques that they had all been taught not long ago.
But, the year that had gone past seemed too long to him. Too long to stand. He wished he hadn't made the mistake he had made. He wished It wasn't he that was missing her. He wished it was he that wasn't in love with her. But it was all true, and, unfortunately, he knew it.
He had to be getting back now. His --
His what?
His leader?
His Friend?
His Idol?
His What?
Orochimaru was never really part of the plan. He had simply been a complication within, such as she was a disturbance. Which he, consequently, loved with every ounce of his being.
Orochimaru was never to train him. All he wanted was revenge.
Revenge-- The sweet venom that his once happy character dripped with.
It had, in fact, consumed him, In such a way as to ignore all others around him.
Orochimaru was nothing but a muse he believed to help him succeed in acquiring that sugary sweet poisonous r word. And, Orochimaru was not about to receive his prey.
She had once told him about revenge. If he did, in fact, get with his revenge and manage to kill his brother, How would he be different from him?
Sure, he would avenge the death of his clan, but how would they feel?
He hated how she had managed to put an irreparable crack in his concrete- solid facade.
He decided to reveal himself.
What did he have to lose, except her?
The Raven-haired avenger came out of the secrecy of the forest and his eyes came in contact with another pair, which were, very clearly, expecting him.
He scooped her up in his arms, and their lips brushed past each other, as to ask if it was alright.
She in turn responded with forcing her lips upon his into a passion-filled lip lock that released every feeling of anguish, hurt, and more importantly love that had built up over the years.
The pink-haired girl had succeeded in her mission, and in turn received the reformed man of her dreams.