Can you hear it? The sound of death herself laughing, as she tosses a perfect strand of hair over her shoulder, hair that had been washed so many times to rid it of blood. The batting of long, dark eyelashes, hiding even darker eyes, the eyes of a deceiving woman. The slight, though noticeable pout of red lips, the lips that smiled when she licked the blood off her blade.
Because I can hear it. We were all trained this way. Us, kunoichi.
Very few men have the smarts not to talk to that pretty lady over there, so innocent yet coy. Very few men understand that her flirts were blatant lies, that her sweet and velvety words meant nothing to her.
And as we coaxed information from you when you're to busy staring at our little dance, as we teased and touched you, as we had done so many times before, we'd laugh and toss our heads.
The maid would scream the next day. She would scream and scream until someone came to check what was going on, and they'd see your body lying on the bed, dead eyes still open in shock, neck slit and still bleeding. The manager, who was an ex-shinobi, would look you name up and find out that you were a full time trafficker. He'd make the maid swear to never tell, would zip you up in a body bag, and clean the room up, good as new.
Because of how we live, protecting our village at the price of our innocence and virginity, we become empty. Love wasn't an option anymore. It never was from the first day we signed our lives away.
Tsunade would look at all the signatures, the signatures of young girls, and tears would burn at the corner of her eyes.
Sakura would shake her head, saying we we're cheating them of their futures, that they didn't know the true cost.
Hinata would stare wide eyed at her mission scroll, and would fall to her knees and cry.
Ino would clench her fists and say nothing as a random criminal she was ordered to take down left a trail of kisses on her neck.
Tenten would look at her mirror at night, face red and streaked with tears, the memory of fingers touching her in places that shouldn't be touched still fresh on her mind as the day it happened.
It's a tough life to live, and even tougher to send your students down the same path you had to go. But in the end, only the strong come through.