Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Beware…there are some spoilers for those who haven't seen past Ep. 50 of the Shipuuden arc or read any of the manga.
The Price
Sakura pulled her rain cloak closer to her body as she stared dumbly at the Memorial Stones in front of her.
It seemed like lifetimes ago when she'd stood there as a fresh-faced genin while her crazy new sensei talked about those warriors immortalized on the blue marble. The heroes and heroines whose names littered the monument died in honor and in battle.
But most importantly, they died for their country.
You give up your life, an insidious voice murmured in her head. The moment you decide to become a shinobi…your life is forfeit.
"We didn't know what we were getting into," she whispered brokenly. Her hand tightened around the scroll she held. Icy fingers encased in worn leather dug into the wet parchment in anger and sorrow.
Long years passed after her introduction into the shinobi ranks. Years filled with fighting, betrayal, and heartache.
So much heartache…too much for one as young as she.
The war with Akatsuki was all but over. But at what price?
The 19-year-old woman glared at the cold blue marble and remembered.
One stone wasn't enough, was it? The voice whispered again. It never would be—could be—enough for what we wrought; what we created together.
For years they thought they had the upper hand. Konoha was too strong, too skilled, to fall at the hands of a band of criminals. But with such strength came complacency, pride, and ignorance to the world around them.
Sarutobi Asuma was the first to truly fall. But he was by no means the last.
They had underestimated. And paid heavily for it.
Jiraiya-sama, Akimichi Chouza—they and countless others lay dead at the hands of their enemy. Akatsuki had struck hard and fast.
And then came the cruelest blows of all.
Shaking hands reached out to trace the names of those dearest to her heart. A scream of frustration and grief threatened to escape her throat, but Sakura refused its freedom. To give voice to her pain would make it all the more real. To acknowledge in sound what she felt in her heart was something she was not yet prepared to do.
To know that she would never again hear impossible excuses for her former sensei's tardiness…
Never again know the satisfying sting of her palm as it connected with a hard head of blonde hair…
Never again watch as dead black eyes lit up with something close to emotion as she tried to share yet another lame "knock-knock" joke…
Never again taste the bitter excitement that swelled in her chest as she held the man she'd grown to love beyond the bounds of reason…
They were gone.
Not gone, the voice whispered seductively. They're still here…they can be here again.
Sakura shivered again, but not due to rain or sorrow. Excitement skittered down her spine as she looked down at the scroll in her hand.
She remembered.
Of course she did—she couldn't forget her first kill that easily.
It was like fighting an angel. His face was beautiful. His voice hypnotic. And his hands…
They were nothing less than a work of art.
Art…the sensuous voice chuckled in her broken heart. We will create it together. You know what to do.
"Yes," Sakura laughed. "I know what to do."
It had taken her months to pull everything together. All of the hours of research, all of the strings pulled and favors called in, summed together to form the gift of knowledge in her trembling fingers. She had everything ready. She knew the jutsu. She had the chemicals.
Now she just needed her friends.
A/N:
I don't know if I'll continue this. I do have more written, but it seems fitting to leave things as they are. The story's supposed to be part of an author exchange, but I think I'll write something a bit...happier for that. Review and tell me if I should post the rest of what I have written for this story.
Ja ne!
~Zannen