Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
"It's beautiful." Karura lifted her hand to examine the intricate patterns drawn on it- the dark floral patterns of the henna spread across her light skin. "You're quite the artist," she said, turning to the woman beside her.
"It's nothing, dear," the woman who looked too old to be in her late twenties replied. "Anything for you."
"Anything and everything for the blushing bride," came a higher pitched voice. A young girl of about 10 years with light brown hair and lips filled with bright laughter walked towards the pair and joined them in the couch beside the window.
"I am not a bride yet, Emuishere," Karura corrected the young girl. "Not until tomorrow."
"Emu!" the girl shouted, earning a disapproving look from the henna artist. After a pause, the little girl continued, "My name is too long. Just call me Emu."
Karura laughed a bit. She was glad, small as this gathering was, to have friends to celebrate her wedding with. She was about to respond to Emu when they heard loud cries from the streets outside.
"Oh, is it another batch? Emu, close the window. We don't need anything else to remind us of the war tonight."
"It's okay, Haqikah" Karura said to the older woman "I'll close it."
"Dearest," Haqikah called out "You might smudge the henna on your hands. Keep still for another twenty minutes."
But Karura was already at the window, about to reach out to close it when something on the streets below caught her eye. It was a stretcher, carrying a bloody broken body- a bloody broken body that looked too small for comfort. A woman suddenly ran towards the stretcher, carrying the mangled body closer to her. The wailing resounded into the room and left Karura paralyzed with an emotion she could not place.
"Close the window, dear."
Taking in the order of Haqikah, Karura closed the window. The sounds became muffled until they finally died down. "What's happened?" Emu asked.
"It was a child this time," Karura answered.
"Well," Haqikah sighed as she kept the materials into her small basket. "You should get used to it, Karura, given that you're about to marry a killer yourself."
"I take it you don't approve of this." Karura was used to comments of that nature, but hearing it from Haqikah, one of her closest friends, still struck a chord in her heart. What's so wrong with marrying the man? Why is there such a taboo on a shinobi and a civilian staying being bound in such a way? Other social interactions suffer no such malice. "He is different," she tried to defend her fiance.
"He's a killer," came the cold reply. Emu sat on the couch, alienated in the conversation.
"Your fiance is a killer," Haqikah continued "your brother is a killer. Your sons and daughters will be killers. You need to get used to looking death straight in the face if you're going to continue wi-"
"He is different!" Karura snapped at her friend "He is different from all of them and he loves me!"
A heavy silence filled the air. "You're right, child," Haqikah said "He does love you." Karura wanted to throw something at her because she knew that this was only the start of a whole string of insults and lectures listing all the mistakes Karura has made and all those she was about to commit.
"He loves you and would gladly make orphans out of people who so much as think about Suna and you by extension...and Suna has a lot of enemies. I heard the man has no qualms about using his powers to slice the heads off certain noblewomen who wear their gold jewelry so prominently on their necks. He might even be the kind that steals children from the arms of their mothers," slowly Haqikah turned to face Karura, making sure that their eyes met so the younger girl could feel the weight and the implication of her words "He might even steal your children from you."
Then, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it!" offered Emu, relieved that the suffocating atmosphere might finally dissipate. She ran towards the door and let the people in.
"Your bloody knight is here," then with a sigh and more sincerity than Karura's ever felt, Haqikah said "I hope...I hope he makes you happy." The woman stood up and with a smile she mouthed the words I'll leave you two alone.
Karura looked at the older woman as she left and whispered "He is different." It was all she could say, tired of remembering the cruelties of foreign shinobi, tired of debating with herself, tired of defending a lost cause. Yes, Karura knew she was marrying a killer. She knew she was marrying a highly ambitious individual who would end the lives of Suna's enemies without hesitation- male, female, adult, child. She knew that.
"Karura."
A familiar voice shook her away from her thoughts. She smiled. There, he stood in front of her. Dressed in his normal wear instead of the traditional clothes, just like her. There he stood in front of her with a shy smile, so uncharacteristic of him, fiddling with something in his hands. Her future was standing in front of her, calling out to her.
How could she not answer?
Karura lifted her patterned hands. "It's still drying."
Wordlessly, he walked towards her and showed her a golden necklace. It was small- one really can't afford anything more given the state of the economy. The pendant was a scarab beetle lined with gold, but the center was a bluish stone. Lapis Lazuli- her favorite stone. She looked up at him, a mixture of surprised elation and teary eyes. "You didn't have to."
"It's tradition."
She laughed. "Tradition is gold, anything gold. You didn't have to look for the stone."
Once again, her fiance descended into silence. She turned to allow him to place the jewelry around her neck.
Karura knew this man was a killer. She'd rather not think about the number of orphans he's made or the number of grieving mothers he's made. She'd rather not think about the possibility that this necklace used to decorate a now headless woman. She'd rather not think about the future of her children and the bloodstained hands that would greet her when they come home.
She turned to face him. "Thank you." She looked at her shinobi, dressed in the beige jacket of Suna. He is different from all of them and he loves me.