Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. I also do not own the song used herein. It's Sic Transit Gloria by Brand New.
The club was crowded with writhing bodies, dancing to the sultry music. The bass was low, thundering in the over sized speakers. The entire room smelled like sex and sweat.
They were working in pairs tonight.
Hard jade eyes surveyed the unwashed masses, searching for her target in the low light made by the black-lights that lined the bottoms of each of the walls. She ran her left hand through her messy pink hair. She focused on the sound of her heartbeat, faster than the racing music. I can do this.
Keep the noise low.
She doesn't wanna blow it.
Shaking head to toe
while your left hand does "the show me around."
Quickens your heartbeat.
It beats me straight into the ground.
She spotted him, grinding to the beat with a buxom blond that had enough surgical enhancements that were worth probably a years worth of A-Ranked Missions. She lifted her eyes to her male partners', nodding. Sexual preference confirmed, I'm moving in. Unspoken message relayed, she joined the throng.
You don't recover from a night like this.
A victim, still lying in bed, completely motionless.
A hand moves in the dark to a zipper.
Hear a boy bracing tight against sheets
barely whisper, "This is so messed up."
A drop of moisture fell from her hairline and ran down and around, disappearing down the thin tank top. She ran one hand down along the hem of her short skirt. She bit her lip, undulating through the hot masses, slowly making her way across the populated dance floor. Tensing, she felt the familiar chakra presence of her partner. He placed a large hand on her waist and leaned in, lips almost brushing against the sensitive skin. "This isn't your first. It'll be fine."He ran a hand through his own hair, spiky and silver, as he watched his ex student slowly make her way to their target. She had caught the targets eye already. A longing in his eyes was replaced with longing as she sashayed her hips, rolling and grinding. He shook his head and made his way outside, going up the stairs of the fire escape to the room that their mark was staying in. The room smelled stale and dusty and he could still hear the pulsating rhythm from the club below.
Upon arrival the guests had all stared.
Dripping wet and clearly depressed,
he'd headed straight for the stairs.
No longer cool, but a boy in a stitch,
unprepared for a life full of lies and failing relationships
She was soaked and she knew it. She was hot and ready, eyes half lidded and wanting as she looked at the man. She coyly smiled and she turned her back to him, her ass brushing along his groin. His heavy arm trapped and pulled her back against him. His foul smelling breath a nasty mix of booze and early onset halitosis. She was a shinobi and proud of it, although these were the kind of missions that made her sick. The kind that made normal relationships back in the village next to impossible.
He spins her around, lacking all grace and finesse. "Lets go somewhere more private." He grabbed her hand and they made their way to the back exit, where she assumed was a stairwell that led to the dingy apartments above the low-end club.
Already in the room that was there destination, her partner waited in the shadows.
He keeps his hands low.
He doesn't wanna blow it.
He's wet from head to toe and
his eyes give her the up and the down.
His stomach turns and he thinks of throwing up.
But the body on the bed beckons forward
and he starts growing up.
He wiped the sweat from his hands off on his standard issue navy pants. He focused on the sound of two pairs of feet walking towards the room, just outside. He heard her giggle. When did he get this old?
The fever, the focus.
The reasons that I had to believe you weren't too hard to sell.
Die young and save yourself.
The tickle, the taste of...
It used to be the reason I breathed but now it's choking me up.
Die young and save yourself.
She seemingly blindly groped for the light switch, squashing down the pity in her gut for the man and the life she was about to cut short. Regardless of what everyone said, there was nothing that could ever get one ready for that moment when the life drained out of your mark's eyes. This is why only the best were saddled with assassination missions. And she was one of the best.
She hits the lights.
This doesn't seem quite fair.
Despite everything he learned from his friends,
he doesn't feel so prepared.
She's breathing quiet and smooth.
He's gasping for air.
"This is the first and last time," he says.
She fakes a smile and presses her hips into his.
He keeps his hands pinned down at his sides.
He's holding back from telling her
exactly what it really feels like.
She smiled as he closed his eyes for the last time, kunai in hand. Crimson stained the dingy yellow sheets. Mission: successful. She nodded to her backup. "Let's go home, Kakashi-sensei. He nodded and held out a hand as she wiped off the knife and stuck it in his hand.
He is the lamb, she is the slaughter.
She's moving way too fast and all he wanted was to hold her.
Nothing that he tells her is really having an effect.
He whispers that he loves her,
but she's probably only looking for se-...
(Up the stairs: the station where
the act becomes the art of growing up.)
Fin.