~As of May seventh, this story has been revamped somewhat. And some of you may be thinking I went overboard with the comas, it's understandable, but it was done stylistically. I assure you. XD And everytime I read this I love it more and I hate it more. What kind of story does that even make this? Hahaha...
She couldn't remember the reason why she had wanted to be a shinobi in the beginning. Everything had changed so much in the years she had lived this life, years sorrow and joy and everything that anyone could ever possibly feel. But that particular memory was lost in the deeps of her mind; along with her naivety, her innocence and the majority of her irrational hopes and fears. For the most part anyway. Whatever the dream, or the memory, had been, it had probably been sparkly and beautiful and everything her eleven year old self had thought should be in a fairy tale. All she could do now was laugh.
Her eleven year old self had been an idiot.
But really though, she had always been an idiot. In fact she was still an idiot if she was being honest with herself at all, and she hated that. She'd much rather pretend that she could overcome every problem, that if she tried harder she could do it next time. Next time; ha. And she'd much, much rather listen to pretty little lies, but the funny thing about knowing the truth is that it's impossible to go back. Well for her it was. She knew the truth and as much as she wanted her happily ever after, there was no going back. Heck right now she'd take the silver lining, as incorporeal as that was. Right now she just wanted to be happy even if just for a little while. Did that in any measure make her wise?
Real happiness didn't happen so much anymore, for much of anyone, just the occasional flickers of cheerfulness. As soon as you stepped out the door you could feel the tension: everyone knew a storm was coming, everyone knew why that storm was coming and everyone knew what an idiot she had been... still was really, in those secret corners of her mind where she had tea parties with her eleven year old self and reminisced about all those good 'ol times. Ha.
She still loved being a shinobi, as much as it could sometimes hurt. She loved the freedom, she loved the sense of purpose it gave her and she loved that she could break things and scream and shout and nobody thought less of her. Because it was all part of the job description. What wasn't in the job description, or those cheerful little career choice pamphlets was the fact that nobody had bothered to tell her that when a fellow shinobi breaks your heart it hurts a thousand times worse then when a "normal" person does. Nobody told her about the sleepless nights where you couldn't even cry or they'd know and they'd find and kill you. Nobody had told her that shinobi didn't have happily ever afters and that when you came home, if you came home at all, it'd be to empty rooms, food rotting in the fridge and an eviction notice on the door. Not to mention the aching loneliness that could consume you in the dark where it festered in your mind.
Glorious was definitely not one of the words to describe shinobi. Shinobi were necessary evils that "normal" people put up with because they took care of all the nasty little details that they would rather ignore themselves. And there you had it, shinobi were simply the "glorified" janitors with the blood stained hands who cleaned up after the politicians went home to their trophy wives and mansions on the hilltops every night. Frankly it pissed her off but she could never go back. Because there was nothing to go back to and she had seen to much, felt too much, to just lay down and take it. At least as a shinobi she had a mop and the keys to the supply closet.
With these eyes she had seen just about everything. She had seen who she had thought was her best friend and first love knock her out and walk out into the world all alone. She had watched over the years as he warped and twisted himself into something unrecognizable and there had been nothing she could do about it. She watched as she had just sat back and relied on everybody but herself. She had watched herself fail even though she had finally got up the courage to actually try. She had seen friends die and whither in her hands. She had killed. She had saved. She had seen, run, cried, laughed and lived, breathed. But right now it was all pressing down upon her and she felt like she was going to break.
The fabric that held together her fragile world was threadbare and she didn't know if it could ever be repaired.
Not to mention the war brewing on the horizon. That'd put a damper on anyone's day.
In the end all the love she had had in her heart had been rejected and now, like a festering wound, was draining her of all the good things in life. She couldn't laugh because she knew he was out there somewhere planning to take away all the things that had ever mattered to her and he didn't care at all. She couldn't sleep because she couldn't stop thinking about all the things she could have done differently. She couldn't run because she was trapped here for better or for worse, her fate was tied up with Konoha and there was no going back. There was nothing to go back to, the past, another place. All the roads were back were closed and if he wasn't stopped, her first love, then there would never be anything to return to ever again for anybody. The peace and safety of the world hung on the death of her first love and it ate away at her heart. It didn't seem like any kind of road at all, and yet here she was walking it.
And she knew the truth. The truth that was said to be freeing was only trapping her more closely to every vile thing in her head that she had ever tried to push away. She felt weaker now than she had ever felt. She wanted to move forward but she was afraid of what she would have to do. She wanted to go back but those bittersweet memories were growing fangs and she couldn't afford to be backed in a corner anymore. She couldn't rely on Naruto for the strength she should have always had herself either. He was only one man no matter what anyone thought, no matter what he thought. She couldn't place her burdens on his shoulders, it was only a matter of time until he would trip and fall. No. These were her heartaches, her problems, her mistakes and she would take care of them herself.
Or at least try to. It wasn't like she had much else to lose.
She just wished that there was someone she could turn to without feeling guilty or stupid. Someone who would just hold her and tell her it would be alright. Tell her just a few of those pretty little lies that they wouldn't ever acknowledge were lies out loud. She didn't know what to do now, but she knew there had to be something. It would come to her eventually or she'd be forced to do something because her life was in danger. That was the way it usually worked anyway.
Throwing herself back on her pillows she watched the dust swirling in the one stripe of moonlight falling on her bed. It was nights like these she really hated, where she was so tired that her eyes burned but she couldn't sleep no matter what she did. Nights where it was so quiet. She turned and tossed and threw off her blankets but that didn't help. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed and counted to fifty but that didn't help either. She sat up and punched her pillow but that didn't help. She couldn't stand the quiet or the way the clock punctured the dense silence all around her.
Tick, tick, tick. She felt like she was going to go crazy, and so she got up.
It was just her in the dark and in the quiet with that monotonous never-ending tick, tick, tick. She walked around in circles, she concentrated on the feeling of carpet between her toes and the soft sort of whooshing sound of her steps. It didn't help. She was too tired to sleep. She was too worried and sick of herself to just relax. She wanted to cry but she had promised herself she wouldn't. Promises.
All broken like little pieces of glass.
Transparent and so fragile.
She sighed, if she couldn't sleep she might as well do something. Her mother had called it busy work.
Just another of those fragments that seem silly and so, so far away.
~O~
She wrapped the fuzzy pink robe tighter against herself. It had been a gag gift from Naruto and oddly enough was the most comfortable robe she owned, she'd never tell him that though. It was the same shade of pink as her hair. It was a color that reminded her of magnolias. Which ironically symbolized beauty and dignity. Ino had told her in one of those moments where she was calm and comfortable. She liked when they bickered, she liked it more when they could just sit with each other.
The times when Ino would braid her hair.
She took a sip of her hot chocolate and smiled. She wasn't totally alone. That was comfort in and of itself. They knew her name. She needed to be stronger for their sakes, she had to protect them all. She would never forgive herself if anything happened to them because she didn't have the strength to save them. Or the will. She frowned at the thought.
However her landlady probably didn't care one way or the other. If she was gone then she'd just replace her with someone who actually paid the rent on time. She pushed her bills and calculator away and took another sip of her coco. What was the use of worrying? It'd work out in the end. It would one way or the other no matter what she did.
If she was being fatalistic about it, either she would survive tomorrow or she would die. Hard to think about bills and buying another gallon of milk with that kind of mentality.
She needed some air. She wanted to do something. Maybe she'd be able to sleep if she just made herself so physically exhausted that she couldn't keep her eyes open no matter what she was thinking.
It was something to do in any case.
~O~
He couldn't think, the pain was too excruciating. It had been going on for hours, days, months, years. He couldn't remember a time where it didn't feel like he was burning, burning, burning. He couldn't scream, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't see, he couldn't think. All there was, was the darkness and the pain. All the burning. He swore he could feel his very bones flaking away from the heat. The pressure. The darkness.
He wanted to die. Maybe he was dead. But if he was dead why was he burning? He couldn't move, couldn't blink, couldn't bite down his pain, swallow it, couldn't even pray. All there was, was the burning, burning, burning.
He could feel every cell in his body, as if on fire. Melting. He couldn't hear, couldn't taste anything but ash in his mouth, couldn't smell anything. He was so tired. He hurt so much. He just wanted to die. To stop the never ending burning. He'd do anything!
...
Air. Bitingly cold air. he didn't understand. Why was it so cold? So dark? Where was he? The heat? Had he finally died?
He ached. The burning was gone so fast it was like it hadn't ever been there at all. He felt stretched, and pushed, and ripped apart. He felt like he was floating and drowning. But most importantly he felt alive. He couldn't be dead. He could hear now. Wind. He could hear... leaves? In trees?
He laid there and tried to comprehend the words slowly filtering into his mind. Trees... He remembered trees. They were... big. They were... they were strong. Wind in trees. Leaves in trees... Leaves in trees rustled by wind!
There was the wind and the dirt and some sort of garbled rushing noise that he still couldn't place. But these were not important. He didn't know what was but it wasn't these.
He tried to move but it hurt too much. All he managed was to weakly cough and turn his head to the side. Even that brought back the memory of the burning. He felt very heavy. Like he was sinking into the dirt.
Panic.
No! He couldn't go back there! He didn't want to burn. He tried to move, to crawl away, to hit the earth but all he got was shooting pain throughout his body. He didn't stop until he couldn't tolerate the pain anymore. He coughed again, wincing at the way it painfully shot through his chest.
He could feel the tears stinging his eyes and cheeks. He could feel that cold, cold wind tearing through him. He could feel how weak he was, how he couldn't do anything.
He gave up and just laid there. Why was he here? Why couldn't he remember? Why did he have to hurt so much. It didn't even feel as good as it usually did... Wait... He liked pain? Why would...?
He coughed again. Stronger this time. He even managed to clear most of the dirt from his throat.
He was a he! That was something. He... Him... His...
Man.
He was a man. He was... human.
That was something too. Did he have a name? Why did he like pain... usually.
Everything was hazy and he didn't care, he knew he should but he still hurt too much to really care. To truly care. He lay in the dirt and concentrated on how uncomfortable he was. There was dirt in his mouth, gritty and unbearably dry. He wasn't even sure if he was completely connected with himself. It felt like there were thick plates of steel between all his joints and they were alternately scalding hot and bitterly cold. He was also unbearably weak, just breathing made him tired and dizzy.
He thought he was lying on his back but he was too disorientated to know for sure, his sight was blurry too. He didn't know much of anything, only that if he was dead it might be easier to breathe again. But that didn't make any sense.
Slowly and with gritted teeth he reached his arms out again. His muscles screamed with the effort but at least now he knew they were still attached to his body. He didn't stop he was determined to stretch his arms out their entire length. Then he would stretch his legs, his neck, his spine. Then maybe he could get up the will to stand, to go somewhere, or to finally die. But not before he did this.
He was no pansy.
He paused at that word. It tasted familiar, he pushed it out of his mind and concentrated on bending his elbows. He was coming out of a fetal position and it hurt. Minutes passed but he was slowly making progress, just a little more and his arm would be straight. Just a little more pain and he'd have another small victory over his body.
Straight. He began to uncurl his fingers. One by one. He could feel the ground underneath him on his bare arms. He could feel the cold air shiver against his skin. He agonizingly and slowly pulled his hands up toward his face until he brushed against something strangely smooth.
Wincing he turned his hand around and tried to pick it up. He fumbled. Hissing he tried again. He managed to get one finger under it and then it slipped from his fingers again. He grumbled darkly under the little breath he had and tried again. He was determined to get that thing, whatever it was. He used his little finger and tried to hook it, move it, pull it closer to himself. It slipped from his sweaty fingers. It was slick now.
He forced his screeching muscles to pull him up until he perched uncertainly on one elbow and then forcing his hand again he picked up that thing. He had it and a handful of dirt. He brought it close to his face and blew the dirt weakly away from it's surface.
Tarnished with age and blood, bent and broken, chipped and chainless, he recognized it. With a sharp cry he collapsed back to the ground with it clasped closely in his hand. All the memories swept him away like a tidal wave. Everything he had had. Everything he had lost. Everyone he had known. Everyone he had killed, loved, hated. Everyone. Everything he had seen, heard, tasted, heard. Known. Everything he believed. Everything he was.
It all flashed past his eyes and with a strangled animalistic scream or sob, he fell away from the world, and darkness hid him once more.
His name was Hidan.
~O~
This was her special place. She didn't think anyone else knew about it. She always came to this little clearing when she needed a place to think or to just escape. She hadn't told anyone about this place, just an oval shaped clearing between the ash and oak trees, she had removed all the rocks and now the only thing cluttering the ground were dead leaves. There was a little brook off to the side where she could dabble her feet in the water and she even took baths in it sometimes after she had trained. The boughs of the trees were all long and strong enough to link over her head and the clearing was like a room. Stars peeked in from between interlaced branches, casting an eerie sort of fairy tale glow on the leaves scattered on the ground. It was beautiful, her little quiet corner of the world. She had found it when team seven had still been whole and they had tried to capture Kakashi-sensei's bells for the first time. She was fond of this place for it's beauty and the memories she attached to it by association.
The nice thing about the woods in Konoha was that even though they were all owned and sectioned off by the great families of the village, families like the Hyuuga, the Uchiha and the Nara, everyone was welcome to wander and train in them as they pleased. It was a freedom that she knew many of the other villages didn't have. She hadn't really understood it either, she owned her house and her clothes and things like that but owning land had never really made sense to her. It would still be here after they were all gone, it had been here before so how could anyone own it? If she took a handful of dirt, there would still be another underneath it. Did one handful make any difference?
She pushed the thought aside and sighed happily as she set her things down by the trunk of a tree. The very air seemed to be sort of electrified, like the trees and brook had missed her, she smiled at the thought. She would make a trip of this, she had the rest of the weekend off anyway. Summer was usually on the brink of unbearable in Konoha. The heat and the humidity were bad enough but there had been more forest fires then usual this summer. She felt her shoulders droop, some were natural but most were caused by all the fighting that had taken place. Since Sasuke left she added, all of this had seemed to start when he decided... She still didn't know what he thought, he had always been closed, but now. Now he was like a completely different person. She had seen it in his eyes. Before he had been sad, determined, angry. Now he was just angry and so cold that it was like his blood was really ice. It honestly scared her to see him and know it wasn't him. Not anymore.
But she couldn't honestly say that she wanted everything the way it had been before either. It may have been better, happier, safer, but there had always been that flavor, that undertone of darkness. And there will always be the past. She had loved Sasuke with a frenzied, irrational love, and in the corners away from the light she still did. Obsession. She didn't like the word but that's what it had been, what she still felt at times. She didn't want that anymore; and the more she realized it the more it hurt but she was better for it. She had to let go because it was better for herself, better for everyone, but not easy. But the good things never were.
She still hurt, she could still remember, still see, but it was getting easier. Soon maybe even the taint of his memory would fade to something pleasant. When he was gone. She knew that there was no other way. He had chosen and now she was forced to choose accordingly. That was the way this game worked, and she knew that if she ever gave him the chance he would use her, manipulate her, she knew he would even kill her if it suited him. That hurt the most, but she could never really be angry with him, not after everything she had given him. And that was the reason why she knew that it would never work, the reason why she had to stop trying to make it work. Sasuke was broken in a way she doubted even Naruto could fix; because Sasuke had chosen to break himself.
That was the difference between Naruto and Sasuke. Even thought they both had had everything ripped away from them, everything forced onto their backs, Naruto had chosen to smile and to trust. Sasuke had chosen to hate and corrupt. That was the way it was and she had to accept that there were some things she couldn't change no matter how hard she tried. She could always hope for a miracle, but she knew now that you couldn't put all your hope into something as insubstantial as a miracle, a whisper of a hope. She should have known better anyway being a shinobi, but she had always been sheltered from the harsh reality.
She was tired of that though and even though it hurt she would rather see the truth then be lied to anymore. Even those pretty little lies she still wanted to hear. It was better to put those insecurities into a box and forget about them. If she wanted to be stronger, more prepared, she couldn't get caught up in what-if's and if-only's because now they could kill her. She knew that now. And she knew now that the only change she could ever make real, totally on her own, was in herself. She was the only person she could change anyway she wanted, and right now she wanted to be stronger, happier. She wanted that.
She drew some confidence from these revelations and let a smile come to her face. Things weren't perfect and it was probable that they never would be or that they had ever been; but that wasn't important, what was important was that for maybe the first time she had made a decision based on what she really wanted. She would live, not because she had to or because she had some unfounded hope that he would come back and want her, no she would live because she would make her own happiness. Whatever happened.
She laughed for the first true time in months and threw off her coat. She knew coming here was a good idea, she felt better already.
~O~
He awoke the second time not immediately or painfully but slowly, like he was drifting up from the bottom of some deep, dark water. He felt thick and heavy, he felt slow and stretched. He lay there for a moment putting everything back together, fingers absently running over what was left of his medallion. Why was he still here first of all? Where was Kakuzu and where was that bastard who had tricked him using his fucking shadow crap? Why hadn't anyone come for him? How long had he been in that damned hole?
He was angry, angrier then he had been in a long time over anything. He could feel it in his stomach making him feel sick. He knew those fuckers hadn't cared for him as a person but hell, he was an asset wasn't he? That's what leader had told him when he'd found him. He was an asset. He hadn't cared at the time because any excuse to sacrifice more freely was a good excuse. But now things were different, no matter what he had been you don't throw people away so callously. Even he treated his sacrifices better.
He clenched his fist, glad that the motion only caused him minimal pain. It looked like he was still immortal and that he still healed quickly. He briefly considered going after his comrades and giving them a piece of his mind, preferably along with a bloody fist and a ritual but dismissed it. The last thing he needed was to get tangled up with those bastards again, especially now that he knew they cared so much.
The last thing he remembered was being blown into pieces by the guy with the weird hair and being buried. And if he was whole again and relatively pain free it was a pretty safe bet that a shitload of time had passed.
He was glad that he was alive though, no matter how often he thought about death and what it would finally feel like he could never actively wish to die. He blamed it on being human, it was instinct to cling to life. It was the reason he kept breathing and eating and sleeping, he didn't really need to but he liked to because it still felt right. Not to mention fucking, he'd rather stop eating then quit the occasional fuck. And like hell he'd use his hand either.
But that wasn't something he really had the luxury to stop and think about at the moment. So instead he concentrated on his body. He could feel it for one, that was good. The feeling wasn't just pain either, that was also good. He could move easier now too, always a plus. He clenched his fist and relaxed it a couple times. All his fingers were there, he reached up and touched his face. It hurt a lot but at least now he could do it. He curled his toes, all there and attached to his legs, which were attached to his torso. All in one place and all attached. Better and better.
He was always fascinated with the healing process, especially the way it went so quickly with his own body. He opened his eyes, he could see now too. This place didn't seem very familiar though, he was surrounded by trees and he could see faint glimmers of stars through the branches and leaves. It was kind of pretty. The wind was still blowing and he was reminded that he should be cold. He wasn't though. Probably had a damned fever. He hated being sick, it was even worse since it happened so rarely like his body took the opportunity to tell him that he was fucked. Like he ever needed the reminder. Someday he'd finally die, somebody would be strong enough to do it. He wanted it but cringed away at the same time. Instinct.
He still heard that rushing noise but now he was lucid enough to give it a name. It was water of some sort, it wasn't a very big noise so either it was far away or it was just a stream or some shit like that. Water sounded very good right then. His tongue was swollen in his mouth it was so dry. He wasn't quite sure he was ready to stand though. He wasn't too strong yet. He didn't like the feeling but there it was and pushing wouldn't help either. He hadn't lasted as long as he had just because he was immortal. And eventually even that probably wouldn't matter. But right now he needed to sit up.
With a grunt he thrust his hand out and using the tree behind him used it to claw his way up. Panting slightly he leaned against the tree and tried to pretend that it hadn't been so hard.
And that's when he heard it, somebody laughed. He bristled, how dare someone laugh at him! If he wasn't so weak it would have been him doing the laughing. It took him a moment to realize that the sound had been muffled, the person wasn't close enough to know he was there.
Never being one for total caution he struggled to his feet. The effort it took almost sent him to his knees but he managed it and using the trunks of trees for support creeped his way toward the noise.
He heard the water getting closer, meaning it was a stream. He didn't here any more laughter but he heard the soft whoosh of telltale feet. Whoever it was, was either extremely light or a shinobi. He paused frequently as he made his extremely slow progress towards the noise. From one tree to the next, the forest was thinning a bit, soon he could see through the trunks to a sort of clearing and he stopped. Not from exhaustion though he was close to it. There was a girl in there and she was dancing. Well dancing probably wasn't the best name for it but that's what it looked like. It looked like someone had taken karate or some shit like that and made it sexy. That's what it was.
She stood in the middle of the clearing and she moved so gracefully from one pose to the next it was like they weren't poses at all. She was fluid and from what he could see in the dim light filtering down through the leaves and from her lantern she was totally focused.
Which suited him just fine, he liked watching her. He would have liked to keep watching her but it was then that his legs decided to screw him over and give out on him and with a very audible thud he fell to the ground. Which of course signaled the girl and he could visualize the way her head must of snapped at the sound.
"Who's there?" She didn't sound scared at all, there wasn't so much as a waver in her voice. Curiouser and curiouser. "If this is you Naruto I'll punch you so hard you won't eat ramen for a week."
He liked this girl. Anyone who could dance out in the woods in the middle of the night and threaten someone with violence and not sound scared was either a strong bitch or completely insane. Either way was right up his alley, he liked women who were "spunky" as Deidara said.
"Fine have it your way." He heard the feet coming toward him but he didn't move, he was too slow and it would take too much energy to sit up again and even then she'd get over here first.
Though he definitely liked her taste footwear, yeah, and if he didn't miss his guess those were knee high leather boots. This girl was right up his alley. Though he would have liked them black, not blue but you couldn't have everything. He did smirk at the faint bulge on her calf that he was sure held some knife or senbon or other deadly, pointy thing. She was so close he could imagine the smell of her skin mixing with the musk of leather.
"Who the hell are you and who beat you up? You look like shit and you're naked." Her voice sounded smug and disgusted. She was a freak, he could tell. It was instinct.
But blunt too he liked that. He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out only a painful throbbing in his throat and on his tongue. Well damn wasn't that ironic? He felt her hands slip under his arms as she lifted him up and leaned him against another tree. He grinned when he saw her against the back light. She was pretty. He grinned even wider when recognition flitted through her eyes.
"We all thought you were dead."
"Not yet, never yet."
"Well what am I going to do with you? I should just finish the job you know. Considering what you are and all." He looked her over, she was being amazingly calm for knowing who he was. Or for him being naked for that matter. He still tasted the dirt in his mouth and looking up at her he imagined that it was her blood. How long since he had been left for dead? How long since he had last sacrificed? Tasted the edge of death but not fallen over? Last gotten drunk on the pain and fear of his prey?
"What I am? Who the fuck knows anymore?" Without really thinking about it he reached out his hand and ran it down her neck, along her jugular. When was the last time he had felt that? Reached inside? Death was a beautiful thing, all pure color and emotion. Red and white. The slick feel of hot pulsing blood. The dull gleam of coarse bone. He shuddered in longing and she trembled with him, under his finger tips. Did she know?
He grinned at her; a calculating insanity. A feral intelligence. Life, death they all flowed together for him. But it was death that truly made him feel euphoric- truly alive. How could he not when he snuffed out their pathetic little existences like candles in a gale? When he sacrificed he could feel their souls slip past his skin like silk. He set them free. He saved himself. Therefore he was free as well. That was his reward. That flavor on his tongue; thick, warm. Trickling down his throat. Giving him life; strength. That was what Jashin was. Jashin was bliss. He was lust, destruction, creation- everything. That feeling was everything, and it's name was Jashin. It was death.
It was life.
So when she trembled under his hand... he felt glad. Maybe she trembled because she knew, maybe she wanted it too. That endless quest to be filled. Sated, bursting.
"Get your hand off me."
Nothing gave. Her voice was like stone and he was disappointed. He shook the red haze from his eyes and looked at her again. A girl. Just a girl. But she still had the potential to be so much more. Jashin could see it too. It practically thrummed in the air. He didn't want to break the electric silence, but none of their wishes could be realized if he was still one foot in the proverbial grave.
He curled his hand about her neck and pressed his thumb into the dip between her arteries. He could feel her pulse screaming with life. He could feel his heartbeat fall into sync with it. This here, there was something different about her. Something a little off from normal people. He wondered vaguely what it was. It bothered him. But so did feeling her life, it was like war drum proclaiming her death. Her defiance. That was the paradox of life: death coursed in the same veins as life, as will. Death was as inexorable as any living thing.
"So beautiful."
He felt her freeze, not from the pressure he was slowly increasing on her pulse, but from his words. He knew there was something off about her. It didn't seem like she was afraid of him at all. It excited him. It may just be that he was on a death high from coming out of that fuckin hole, but that couldn't be all of it.
"What did you say?"
He grinned at her once more, showing all his teeth, tipping his face so that he was sure it caught the faint light coming from her lantern, or maybe it was the moon. He didn't care, he wanted to see her face. Her eyes. He wanted them.
"I said you were beautiful."
He was mildly surprised when her hand came up and clasped around his wrist. Even mores surprised when she didn't force his hand away. It was amusing. He didn't care why she did it. Little girls pining for a fairy tale didn't interest him. The way he couldn't feel any fear from her was, or at least any fear he could understand.
He was a monster, he knew it, he cultivated that image. Rituals were fine, but Jashin didn't care, as long as the ends were met, the means didn't matter. But he knew that symbols were powerful, they developed, fermented into the ends. He used them, they covered his tracks as much as they revealed them. The way her skin didn't prickle as if from cold, the way her eyes glinted and were as hard as glass. Those were symbols. That she was strong, that this was meant to happen.
He felt the grimy residue of his fear and mortal pain fade away under those eyes. Yes, this was fated he knew it. He pressed his thumb farther into her pale skin. He wanted to feel that life, her breaths, tantalizingly even and unfazed. He wanted that life. And for once he wanted the soul attached to that life. He outright smiled when her hand lit up like a sparkler and he could feel himself being mended. Through her hand that held the hand that held her life, her pulse, her heart in it's hand; his hand. Oh yes, he wanted all of her now.
Her eyes reminded him of sea glass.
It was personal now.
~O~
She was completely batshit insane. It was perfectly clear to her now. Now that she thought about it, it had probably been inevitable. Something like this was bound to have happened sooner or later. The real reason she was insane was because she thought he was hot.
Typically when you saw criminals, criminals who were wanted preferably dead, who were supposed to have been dead in the first place, who were also, not to mention, Akatsuki, those kind of criminals... if that ever happened, a normal person, obviously not her, oh no, would run screaming. But no, she thought he was hot. Hot. She thought he was hot.
For the love of god she was sick. She could hear all the normal, good normal, alarm bells going off in the back of her head, the problem was that she just didn't care. Maybe she had thought too hard about what she wanted out of life. If only she had stayed the way she was before, this wouldn't have happened. If only she hadn't had a crush on Sasuke. If only she had had a crush on a relatively normal boy like... like Kiba or... or Shikamaru... hell even Naruto. Then this wouldn't be happening. Because if she had loved a normal boy then she could have been safe in her bed right now, where she should have been anyway, thinking about normal things instead of out in the woods with a psychopath who should have been dead over a year ago. But no she fell in love with Sasuke, the boy with the most messed up head in all Konoha. The boy intent on killing his last known relative at the price of his body to another madman.
Real smooth Sakura, real smooth.
But she still didn't feel panic, just a sort of... exhilaration, and really she didn't feel fear either. Not true fear. She felt excited, and it was close enough to fear that she could try and convince herself she was still normal. But she knew. It was that truth again. She couldn't go back.
Whatever this was here, whatever it was, she wanted it. She wanted it to fill up the hole in her heart.
She had also started to heal him; so really it was past worrying about anyway. She knew she should fear for her life, after all the nightmares she had heard about this dead guy she should have been panicking or... or something. Or at the very least thinking about the consequences of her actions should it ever be found out what she had done.
But if. If was a very good word.
Hell she might as well enjoy her last night on earth, though the thought of dying didn't really faze her. Maybe because she knew the mechanics of death, of life. She knew these things, so she wasn't afraid of it. Maybe because we're out here in the dark, in the woods and none of this feels real anyway. 'LIke it's someone else here, and I'm just watching.'
Or you're just batshit insane like we said before.
Ok, she was insane, couldn't forget that voice in her head. The one she couldn't quite convince herself was just her talking to herself. Like it was but it was... not really important right now.
'I'm going to enjoy this before I die. Good thing he's hot.' So she kept healing him, and she kept his gaze, and she was still strangely excited about it. It was an almost nauseous feeling clamping down on her lower spine. She had come out in the woods looking for rest and it looked like she had found it.
~O~
He could feel her chakra coursing through his skin with a sharp zinging feel. It was hot and thick and felt like water. He decided he liked it. He could feel every muscle in his body relax, every tendon, sinew, even his bones felt like they were releasing tension.
If this was just the beginning he still felt like he was making the right choice. He didn't let go of her neck, but she didn't seem to mind any and he certainly didn't. He felt his strength coming back, he almost felt normal and then she stopped. He looked at her curiously and saw the spark in her shadowed eyes. Smart girl. Couldn't have him strong enough to kill her. No. Too bad she seemed to have forgotten how he killed. All he had to do was press his nail into her skin along with the pad of his thumb and he would have the single drop of life he'd need to steal it away completely. But he wouldn't remind her, it would just kill the mood. Instead he drew her down to him with both hands until she was kneeling between his legs and at eye level with him. He looked into those glass eyes and released her neck, there was a faint bruise already forming. He could see it in the light of her green sparkler glow. He pulled her hand down and placed it on his chest, where his heart would be. He wondered if she knew.
That their hearts were starting to make a rhythm, a macabre sort of melody.
He leaned against the trunk of the tree behind him adjusting to the feeling of being truly whole again. The red, seeping welts that had crossed over every joint that had been reconnected had been smoothed and faded. His bones had been realigned. His skin pieced back together and made free from cuts, gashes and bruises. His blood was flowing, his lungs were breathing, his eyes were blinking. He felt good. He liked feeling good almost as much as he enjoyed sharing in other's death throws.
He merely watched her like a cat watching the ground from a high place, almost ready to jump, measuring, calculating, but when she made to move her hand he pulled it back and placed it on his chest, where it belonged. Since this was something different he wouldn't push, but he wouldn't let her leave either. He felt oddly possessive of her now even though he didn't even know her name. Jashin had given him this moment, her, and he wasn't about to let her go no matter how collected she seemed. It was only a matter of time before she cracked under his, and subsequently Jashin's, death's, everything's, influence.
He was more tired of waiting than of inaction, it seemed like he was always waiting for something. He didn't care, she wasn't going to make the first move in this game so he would. He felt back to his old self, nearly, he would probably never like caves or any shit like that anymore but everything was coming back into focus again. And that meant that somebody would pay retribution. Somewhere out there, there would be a scream on the still night. But he had a pleasant sort of feeling that this time his sacrifice wouldn't be in the blood of the last moment or in the screams of the end but in the screams of passion and sweat from those last moments and he couldn't honestly say he was disappointed.
Like he said this one was different.
~O~
She knew what he wanted, she could tell by the feel of his hand on her wrist, and if she was being honest she wanted it too. This was the sort of release she needed. At least a release intense enough to make her forget for a while. To forget... the last straw for her to move on. It felt true. Sex wasn't betrayal, kunoichi slept with all different types of men if the need was great enough. She personally never had to go through that sort of degradation but she still knew it was true. Sex didn't decide loyalty, love did, and she didn't think she was that crazy. Just enough to make her want to be that crazy. There was a difference.
This wasn't quite a pretty little lie, at least not as blatant as her lies regarding Sasuke. Or her lies about her abilities. Or her lies about Naruto's affection. Those lies she didn't like to think about too much.
When he had pulled her back to him it was then that she knew that was what she wanted. For tonight she'd have her pretty little lie, this one that was and yet wasn't. For tonight she'd have the illusion of love that she had always pursued. For tonight. That would be her truth. For tonight. If he had wanted to kill her or sacrifice her or whatever kind of crazy insane thing he could do, she figured he would have done by now.
She shouldn't, but she felt pretty safe surrounded by him. If she tried to escape she would have to be quick because there were at least four ways that she saw that he could stop her with. Too bad she didn't feel like leaving quite yet.
Besides she wanted to take the way he held her hand to his chest as a promise. Take it back as a memory to comfort her on restless, sleepless nights. A promise of what though, she wasn't sure, but it was still a promise. However inarticulate. She could feel his chest slick with sweat, probably from the effort it must have taken to crawl out of that hole and come to her. She didn't know why he was still alive, or better yet how he was still alive but that was a question for another night. Right now she would ponder instead the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, the steady rumble of his heartbeat. These things seemed like granite to her, unshakable, and from the fact that he was still here for her to feel these things probably true.
She wanted to laugh. She wanted to run, not run away exactly, just run.
She wanted him to run too, to chase her and she knew that was really, really stupid. But just like before she decided she didn't care and she kissed him.
He tasted like dirt. Not exactly as romantic and exciting as she thought it would be but there it was.
Another first.
He made a sort of humming noise in the back of his throat and said, " 'Bout time bitch."
She hated that, she didn't let anyone call her a bitch without some kind of payback, and since this seemed to be a sort of game to him, the undead wonder, she would play games too. And her games were much more exciting. Smiling at him she took his hand and pulled him up. He was shaky on his feet but she could tell by the way he was frowning that he wouldn't ask for help. Of course he wouldn't, the men she involved herself never seemed to see past whatever it was that they wanted. However in this case she didn't care so much, it wasn't like she wasn't doing the same thing and now she could see that. Maybe she should thank him. She laughed and flooded more chakra up through his hands warming his muscles and helping him to walk. He didn't say anything but grinned at her.
She led him into her clearing, past her things to the edge of the stream, but he didn't seem to notice, he just watched her in that haunting sort of way that Sasuke had sometimes stared into space with. When he was contemplating murder and vengeance. She found she actually liked the look on his face, it complemented his graceful features, almost boyish really, and added a sort of roughness to his face that made it seem manly and yet far away. She laughed again, a faerie king out of a faerie tale come to whisk her away to the revelry. And what a revelry that would be, she was sure it would steal her breath away. More promises, she was becoming intoxicated with them.
Or irreversibly, incurably batshit insane!
Yeah, or that.
With a smirk of her own she twirled with him on the bank of the stream as if they were dancing. Dancing to a song that was guided by their heartbeats and flowing from their minds and the empty places between the stars. If she had ever felt magic this was it, and spinning faster and faster she tried to forget. It was becoming easier. The way he watched her in the low glare of her lamp, how the light seemed to flicker in his dark purple eyes. She could tell that he was the predator and she was just a plaything. But she still didn't care, just for tonight. Tonight, tonight. She twirled faster, dancing, spinning, laughing. She could feel his grip on her hands getting stronger as she whipped them around faster, faster, faster.
Then... SPLASH! She flung him into the spring and laughed even harder, until her lungs ached and her sides hurt. That she had pulled something like that on him elated her. Hidan of the Akatsuki. Even if it was stupid. She didn't think she'd make it out of this alive anyway. Maybe she was already dead. She knew she was the toy. But at least when she'd be toyed with he wouldn't be dirty.
He broke the surface of the water sputtering and angry. She expected that. What she didn't expect was the smile, it wasn't maniacal or malicious, it seemed to be honestly good humored and that threw her. And that's when he grabbed her ankles and hauled her into the stream after him. The water was cold and she wanted to scream now, but she couldn't, he was holding her down and she couldn't breathe. She struggled frantically against his hold on her, his hands creeping up her legs to her waist, she felt herself growing weaker. Stupid. No it's what I wanted...
Kind of.
Under the water he kissed her and whatever air was left in her throat was sucked away and then she could breathe again. This time he was laughing as they broke the surface. She was shivering but her terror and anger quickly dissipated. She didn't know what this was supposed to be but nothing like it had ever happened to her. She was about to try for another kiss, or maybe another wrestling match but he crawled out of the water and looked at her expectantly.
She almost wanted to stay in the water just to spite him but it was far too cold for that and if anyone knew, she should know the effects of hypothermia. Getting out she sprawled herself out on the ground and watched the sky. She felt rivulets of water trail down her skin and drip down her clothes and hair. She felt the wind blow chilly across her face. The sky was beautiful and this night was so unbelievable as to almost seem a cross between a dream come true and a nightmare.
But it was real. Her blanket that he tossed at her as he lay down at her side was real enough. The water he shook out of his hair and into her eyes, making her wince, was real enough. The small heat beginning to warm her skin from their closeness was real enough. She didn't know if she was the luckiest or unluckiest girl to live. She laughed as he grumbled under his breath and tore half the blanket away from her again. They didn't say anything for awhile, just watched the sky and the wind through the trees. She could almost forget who he was, how he was acting so differently from how he was supposed to. It made her feel bold and she moved closer to him, she could feel his chest vibrating with silent laughter as he pulled her head to lie on his arm close to his side. She could feel the large intake of breath that signaled that he was about to speak. She hoped whatever he said wasn't going to snarky, or terrifying.
"I feel something different about you. I think Jashin has ordained something... Hell I just like saying that word."
Not what she expected.
"Ordained?"
"Yeah, you finished fixing me, so I guess I should be fuckin grateful or something," He turned his head and grinned at her again, it wasn't really creeping her out anymore. "Anyway is this all we're gonna do? 'Cause if it is I'm fucking out of here, seriously."
She almost laughed but somehow managed to keep it in, "So the only reason you haven't killed me is because you want sex? How romantic of you, I feel my feet being swept out from under me, my head's getting light. If you're not careful I might faint."
She saw his eyes light up, it was funny how they could do that, in humor she guessed. She didn't know how she could read him or how she knew she was right, it was just a feeling she had.
"I already did the 'sweep you off you feet' crap, let's move on to the good stuff princess."
"I don't even know you! And really I should really be trying to kill you not sleep with you."
"Honey," Sarcasm, great, it wasn't like she didn't hear that enough in relation to her 'love' life, or her lack of one. She rolled her eyes and slugged his arm, he just grinned again. Of course. "think of it like... ah, like my gratitude."
"You know that makes it sound like you're a prostitute." She laughed again, the thought of this man in particular whoring himself out for anyone or any reason was hilarious. He frowned at that.
"That's not what I meant and you know it."
"But I don't! That's the point."
"You do, and that's why you aren't dead so shut the fuck up and kiss me or something."
He didn't give her the chance, in half a moment he was on top of her, her wrists pinned under his hands and his lips on her neck where he had pressed his thumb into her skin. It still stung but feeling his lips there made her forget. She didn't know why she was doing this other then out of impulse. Out of the sense of danger that she knew she should have felt. All she did feel was a sort of rightness, and if she could feel afraid of anything then it was that. That this didn't feel wrong somehow, that she wasn't fighting back like she should have been. Was she doing this just to feel something? That sounded vaguely familiar... She didn't care.
She didn't care and that almost made her feel afraid. Surging her upper arms and shoulders with chakra like it was some kind of steroid she pushed against his hands. He didn't look surprised that she was fighting back. He did look surprised though when she actually started to move him, it was hard, the position and just plain gravity made her muscles protest fighting him. But if she was going to do this they were going to do it on even footing. She jerked so they were laying side by side again and smiled at him.
"Ok maybe I feel something and if I find out this is some sort of jutsu that you used to screw with my feelings I will kill you but right now I just want you to make me forget."
"Forget? I don't care about that shit but I was planning to in the first place." He rolled her back over and practically attacked her; kissing, biting, tearing.
He wasn't gentle but he was, she figured it was because of the way he had lived his life, that maybe he was just incapable of being truly calm or soft but she was surprised yet again. As soon as her clothes were gone and she was as naked as he was he practically stopped. He just let his eyes roll over her and for the first time she felt embarrassed. Why would he look at her that way? They didn't know each other, this thing... whatever this was, it shouldn't be happening. They should have been fighting, he should have been trying to kill her.
He wasn't. He was just watching. And now touching, a single feather light finger tracing her skin. Where muscle came together physically visible under her skin, the outline of her body under him, where the odd bone pushed against her skin. It was almost ticklish, but she couldn't bring herself to laugh. It would break this moment, and she didn't want it to ever end.
She couldn't call the looks he as giving her love, but they were as close as it could get. It made it a little hard to breathe. If she moved, breathed, did anything he would stop and she didn't want it to ever end. She could feel the warmth in his touch, the way it left cold trails across her skin as he moved around her body.
She had to breathe, and as she feared whatever had been in his eyes disappeared. It had almost looked like awe and now he was smiling again at her. It wasn't the lighthearted grinning before, or the mischievous smirks, it was like the way Asuma had used to smile at Kurenai. It made her pause. It was this man who had taken those smiles, that happiness, away from Kurenai.
That was when she struggled for real and let the tears she had promised wouldn't come from her eyes fall. He looked confused as she pushed against him, but this time she couldn't move him. She was too upset to control her chakra. She brought her hands up to her face and sobbed under him. She didn't hate him. She should. But she didn't. He had taken so much away from so many and yet she still wanted him. She wanted to see that look in his eyes and try to lie to herself and say that he wasn't as bad as all the stories and reports said. He was but still part of her denied it. There had to be something good in him. That he loved her, at least for tonight.
"There's a reason I do what I do."
Now he was reading her mind? There was something incredibly wrong about this whole situation.
He wasn't looking at her, he was still over her, propped up on hands that were placed on either side of her shoulders, but he was looking out across her, across the water and trees to somewhere far, far away.
"It's for freedom. This world is scum and I'm like the janitor," Ironic, that. "It sucks sometimes cause I can't die. But I can't die and so it's frickin awesome. I can do it for as long as Jashin wants me to."
He killed people so why did it sound so... good. Isn't that what she said she liked about being a shinobi? Their reasons were the same and really so were their methods. So why did everyone hate him? Why was what he did so wrong?
Because he enjoyed it.
People who enjoyed bringing death were always reviled. The world was so hypocritical. He wasn't any different then she was.
She decided.
She pulled her hands from her face and looked up at him. Maybe this was some sort of gift. His god couldn't be any worse then the people she worked to kill for. She reached for his neck this time and pulled him down to her. This was tonight after all. She'd worry about what came after, after this. This was tonight. This was a promise.
She kissed him, softly on the lips. One for coming to her. Eyes. Two for not killing her. Cheeks. Three for playing with her. Ear. Four for making her laugh. Chin. Five for teaching her. Forehead. Six for being here. Lips.
He smiled under her kisses. Another smile that was almost affectionate. She couldn't say she understood, but she couldn't say she didn't.
He didn't say anything more and instead pulled her closer. She felt too warm. She wanted to burn. She clung helplessly to his shoulders as completed that last step to their understanding. She cried out as he didn't even pause just one hard push. It was alright. She didn't want something too tender. She had wanted to forget. What better way then pain?
She understood him better now. She held his head to her chest as he found a rhythm, the same as her heartbeat she realized.
Ba-Bump... ba-bump... Ba-Bump... ba-Bump...
He kissed her neck. More promises. Promises to live. Promises to die. To breathe. To love. To hate. Time for time.
She slipped into the rhythm, her eyes dark and her head throbbing. Always that same beat. She kissed his soft hair. She could hear him... humming. It was an eery tune but it fit. As they wound higher, they seemed to sink at the same time. Promises.
His hands began to touch her again. Move her. His hands were calloused and she liked the way his knuckles scraped across her skin. She moaned. She could feel the sweat on her skin, on his. She could feel that burning coursing through her as she reached the edge. She gripped his shoulders vise-like and vaguely heard him groan and she was there. Spiraling in a promise kept. She forgot. She forgot her pain, the confusion over the future and where hearts turned. This man, who should be dead, had given her a second shot on life. It was ironic but she was high. High in the dark explosion of release. The release of everything it turned out. High, high up in the dark air.
When she came back down he was looking at her with the same look as before. She blinked slowly at him, she felt drunk and so very, very warm. She pulled closer to him and rested her head on his chest. She could feel the earth underneath her, the air over her and him with her. She was content.
He kissed her forehead, "That was the best sex I ever remember having... though it's been a while," His voice was rough, he was shaking a little, it must have felt good for him too. "How long was I in there?"
She sighed softly, "A little over a year."
His breath hissed, "Over a year. Those motherfuckers. They never came for me?"
She was tired but shook her head. In that whole year there hadn't even been one report from the Nara family that anything was out of place.
"Well damn! Not that I'm surprised, those heathens never did feel anything noble in their entire lives. No fuckin loyalty from them." He laughed, it sounded bitter. She didn't like him upset, but she was so tired.
"What are you going to do?"
"Dunno. Can't stay here though, there is no way in hell I'm going back in that hole."
"Going?" She felt heavy and slow now. She shouldn't. She struggled to sit up but he pressed her back down.
"Yeah, but I'll be back, I told ya you were special and I plan to come and collect one day so ya better not die or anything before I fuckin get back."
She smiled, and felt better. This promise she knew somehow he would keep. It was stupid. So, so stupid but she was still glad.
"You have anything I can frickin wear? Can't go out naked. Can't have the number one Jashinist the laughing stock of the world." He was teasing her.
She laughed and found the strength to sit up and just look at him for a minute. One good long look at him to save for later. She hadn't really looked at all of him before now anyway. All the dirt had been washed away from their falling in the stream. His hair was the same silvery-white color as in the reports but his eyes were much darker then she had been told. They were purple but so dark they were almost indigo. She liked that. He was strong but still lithe, solid but not overdone. His lines were graceful but not feminine. He seemed to have the perfect balance.
No wonder Shikamaru had likened him to an "angel from hell". He had said it as a joke, probably to keep them all from thinking he was hurt as badly as they all knew he was. But it was true. The only thing that kept him from looking completely angelic was the spark in his eyes and the wicked smirk on his lips.
He turned his smile to her, "A picture would fuckin last longer princess."
She smiled back, "What do you think I was 'fuckin' doing prince?"
He laughed and scruffed her hair hard. "I knew there was a reason I liked you. Now, clothes."
"I have some sweat pants that might fit, but my shirts definitely won't." His hips weren't that much bigger than hers, it was his chest that was much wider.
"That's fine I don't like wearing shirts anyway."
"Good, I probably wouldn't like you in a shirt either, the view is much better this way."
He laughed again as he pulled on her sweat pants he had found in her bag. They were stretched all the way out at the waist, were tight on his thighs and they were too short but she whistled anyway.
He frowned and tried to snap the waistband but it didn't give at all. "Whatever I'll get better ones later."
Why did goodbyes always have to be so hard? So awkward? Maybe because she didn't think there should be goodbyes at all.
He held out his hand out to her and dropped something into her outstretched hand, "Here take this, I can get another one."
It was dented and stained and chipped but she still knew what it was. This was his medallion, the one he kissed before he started his ritual. This was something important and she smiled.
After pulling on her clothes she rifled through her bag and pulled out her wallet. "Here this is all the money I have on me but you can have it. Buy yourself some new clothes."
He took it and leaning down kissed her one last time. "Thanks princess. I'll see ya around sometime. You're my new special project."
And then he was gone.
He really could have killed her the whole time. She smiled again and picking up her things went home.
This was a promise she planned to keep and she would wait. Though if he was planning on converting her he had another think coming. She laughed to herself, out in the cold woods alone.
She may have to kill, and she may change, but enjoying killing was one change she was never planning to make. She still felt somewhere deep down that enjoying someone's end would make her more of a monster than she was willing to be, for anybody. Even herself. That sort of guilt she wouldn't ever choose.
She may understand it, but acting on it was a completely different situation. Changing, not changing, decisions, inaction. Life basically.
All a dark sort of rhythm.
A heady sort of dance.
A macabre sort of melody.
She enjoyed the woods, she especially liked listening to crickets chirping, water running.
Peace. One step at a time.
She could still feel his hands on her skin.
Nothing was a change too.
Because nothing had happened.
Nothing at all.
Just a memory. One she'd keep to herself. She grinned, she was good at keeping secrets. She wondered when he'd come back to keep his promise. Soon she hoped.
She'd be better the next time he came along, maybe she'd lead him in this dance they had inexplicably found themselves dancing. Singing.
In the night. In the night. In the night.
Just for tonight.
Change is inexorable. It isn't always bad, and it isn't always good. Like life. Like death. It just waits for the right moment to sweep them all away.