Her body is cold and the blood is pounding so loudly in her ears that she can't hear the words that his lips are forming; just noise, meaningless noise, like the buzzing of a bee.
It is better this way, with no meaning attached to his words. He can't hurt her with words she can't understand. She wishes her eyes would shut out all color and shape so she couldn't see the glinting edge of his sword lying coolly against Naruto's neck. If she was blind, he wouldn't be able to hurt her.
(But that isn't true. She hurts when she can't see him or hear him, and aches when he's not even there. That's why they are chasing after him in the first place, isn't it?)
The filter slips momentarily, and his words seep through into a wretched understanding.
"…a whim. I spared your life on a whim, and now I will take your life on a whim." The stranger's voice sends chills down her spine, washes over her like ice. It is genuinely cold now; not just the pretended scowl of a boy unwilling to admit affection.
Frantic bird-sound explodes loudly in her ears as the flare of electricity snaps sharply at her skin. She blinks; Sai and Naruto are sprawled on the ground, bodies crackling with blue lightning. Captain Yamato is eying Sasuke warily, shifting into a defensive stance as his hands begin to form the seals of his characteristic wood jutsu.
She stands still as stone, mind numb and limbs unmoving. The only indication of time passing is the soft crackling remnants of lightning flickering across Sai and Naruto, and those meaningless words falling from his lips. (What is he saying? It doesn't matter, because she can't understand.)
Her world has stopped for a moment, halted on its axis with a jarring creak that leaves her dizzy and sick in the stomach. She feels the sickness creeping sourly up the base of her throat, threatening to spill out. How can this man, with this face – his face – say such things? Perhaps it is a clone that has been dispatched to fool them all. Or a cleverly crafted illusion meant to beguile them (because really, they are so desperate they would believe anything). Or maybe it is just another one of her feverish dreams that will, in a little while, fade into gentle waking.
But this man does not disappear in a puff of smoke, nor cast off a disguise to reveal an ugly face; nor does he melt away into some honey-colored morning. He remains standing before her, solid as ever, with his black, condescending gaze that seems not to know her at all.
And suddenly this dazed confusion has boiled into a hot, focused anger that sends her charging towards him, fist reared back. The determination stumbles about in her mouth to form ridiculous sorts of words.
"Sasuke-kun, this time...I will stop you with my own strength!"
She can't see for the furious heat that blurs her vision, and his face becomes momentarily indistinguishable, a mish-mash of memory and longing (screams the heart: how wonderful to be blind!).
But of course she never reaches him. She is cut off again, by some man come to her rescue; some man to keep her out of harm's way. And she is standing still again, the dumb stone statue in a garden of dead bodies.
Inspired by the reunion scene after I went back and reread that part in the manga. It came out totally different than I was intending, aha.
Anyways, the Naruto series makes me sad. I used to be really drawn in by the plot in the earlier arcs, but it seems that the only thing keeping me with the series now is the attachment that I formed with the characters way back in the day...