It's only us left now.
Kyuubi hunted them all. Vicious, bloody, murder.
I can't bring myself to care.
I don't know why he keeps us, why he doesn't eat us.
Sometimes I wish he would.
But he doesn't. Even if we attack, he sits and takes it.
Waits till we're tired.
Picks us up, puts us back.
Licks us with a tongue that burns with fire.
Hums as the world burns.
I don't know how many of us there are.
I can't tell.
We're all a mash of semi-naked bodies.
Kyuubi's chakra makes us helpless, blood-soaked pressure bending our perception.
I recognise faces occasionally.
Or eyes, or hands.
A movement, gesture.
But the knowledge slips from my mind like a silver minnow in a stream, flashing bright before slipping away.
The world is burning, weeping.
And the monster who orchestrates it like a symphony croons to humans in his den.
Sanity isn't an issue for anyone anymore.
The humans are gone. Fading pockets of resistance, ash in a breeze.
The demons are aware that their leader is crazy, that the kyuubi has been tainted by a sunshine child.
Neither wants to admit the fact.
And so Kyuubi sings as the world burns, and if anyone could remember that it was a song that a dandelion-headed boy would sing to himself at night when he stopped bleeding. Well. They might wonder about how sometimes the Kyuubi's eyes flash blue.