She glides over the cold stone floor, her porcelain dolls face blank. Kabuto wonders how he didn't see this coming. He was supposed to be intelligent. He was supposed to be a lot of things.
She was supposed to be weak. Fragile like prettily colored glass and delicate works of art. She looks the part, and once, she acted it too. Now she stalks toward him, long, pale, deceptive limbs and jaded doe eyes. The dimly lit hall lies partially destroyed (much like himself) and he thinks that if he believed in demons they would probably look like Sakura.
He hadn't been prepared for this. He doubts Orochimaru was prepared for this, doubts that Sasuke can escape the reach of their omnipotent grasp. Because Team Seven wants their missing piece back and they will tear through (rip, mangle, destroy) Sound to find him. They're not afraid of dying anymore.
Sakura spares him a grim smile and spins a kunai around her finger. It flashes in what's left of the firelight (because dim corridors and torch lit chambers are the backdrop of Sound and really, the scenery of his life doesn't change much) reminding him of childhood nightmares and cold nights spent under lonely stars.
"He won't come back willingly," he spits at her, the venom in his words is the only shield he has left. "Your dreams of him and Konoha and happiness aren't ever going to happen. To think they will is pathetic."
She doesn't take the bait. He shouldn't be surprised. This is not the little girl he tried to kill years ago. This is a ninja (which is really just another word for monster). A goddess with a goal, and you're standing in the way, you stupid boy."Pathetic?" she asks, voice soft, eyes focused on the twirling knife in her hands. "My, my, kettle, no need to be presumptuous."
She flicks her wrist, barely visible, and pain shoots through his chest.
"We're both black."
She eyes the blood seeping through his shirt with clinical disinterest.
"Who will miss you when you're gone?" she asks, still speaking slowly, softly, as if to a frightened child. She steps forward, fingers twisting in blood dampened material. She lifts him effortlessly and slams him against a pillar. He doesn't know if the resulting crack is his skull or the wall. Her eyes are boring into his now, vicious in a way they weren't the last time he saw her. Her smile is more than somber now. It's terrifying.
"Who on this earth cares about you Kabuto?" she says, an edge to her voice sharp as the weapon she's lifted to his throat. "How soon do you think he'll find a replacement?"
He tries to keep his face blank, but a snarl finds its way through his façade and just like that, whatever upper hand he'd had a chance of reclaiming was gone. She realizes this of course, her entire being radiates a horrible kind of knowledge. Yes, yes, I know you inside out.
"We used to be very alike, you know," she says. "Surrounded by people we couldn't keep up with. The shadows of minor gods."
She's past salt. She's pouring bleach on his wounds.
"I'm strong," she whispers, but it doesn't lessen the force of her words. "I'm beautiful. People in my village love me. They would die for me."
She tosses aside the kunai and it clatters loudly on the shattered stone.
"I am loved," she breathes, letting go of his shirt. He slumps to the ground, watching her dainty fingers, stained red, dance across his chest and settle on his heart. "And you wish you were me."
She removes her hand, giving him one last icy smile, and disappears in the flickering darkness.
Kabuto lies among the ruins, waiting for a savior that won't come.
If she were merciful, she'd kill him. But she's a ninja now (and that's really just another word for monster).
Holy crap! I'm here! Writing! Gah! Borrowing a computer to do so, but it's something right?
Yeah, this is AU and OOC. Guess who doesn't give a shit? I'll give you a hint, it's me.
Oh yeah, and I don't own Naruto, blah, blah, blahbity blah.