Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
A/N: This will be a multi-chaptered fic that I will be updating whenever I have the time! Its inspiration comes from my obsession with the show Vikings, and I wanted to incorporate their imagery into a fic with Sakura in it. There are a few OCs, but they will not be having major roles.
Pairing: Undecided.
-O-
Over the moans of the dying and the sound of her breathing, she heard the beating of wings. Eyes the striking color of sea glass lifted to the sky as the thunderous drone of an approaching murder of crows hovered over them all.
The fading sounds of an ending battle sounded muffled and far away to her ears, as though she were listening from underwater, and all she could hear was the rapid pace of her heart and the distinct call of crows. Pupils dilate to better grasp the image of a figure obscured by birds—of hands clawing through earth to pull souls beneath grass fed by blood.
But when she blinked, she found herself alone, bathed in the blood of her enemies and standing amongst their corpses.
It began to rain, and the woman, no older than twenty five, tightened her grip around the hilts of the swords in each hand as she lifted her face to gaze at the heavens. The rain felt cold as it ran down her face in diluted red rivulets, and lips parted to offer silent prayers to the gods.
The prophecy left her uneasy and anxious, for all it foretold was death. It was unlike her to be phased by her visions, not when she was constantly exposed to death and chaos. She sheathed her weapons and began to walk away from where she had scarred the earth with the blood of young men and women.
Death was not something she believed she could get used to, but it was something she could accept. Her people relished in carnage, they celebrated the spilling of blood and only those who fell in battle could be found worthy of spending eternity with the gods. She knew it as well as she knew herself, as well as she knew her gods and the weight of a sword in her hands.
"Sister!"
Lifting a head of long pink hair at the call of her name, Sakura narrowed her eyes at her best friend. Aya had been Sakura's best friend for as long as she could remember, and where one went the other was sure to follow—be it battle or pleasure.
The flaxen haired woman leisurely made her way towards her and slung an arm around the shorter woman's shoulders.
"So, today was not the day, eh sister?" Aya picked at the dirt under her nails as though they were discussing the quality of stew rather than their own mortality.
"The Gods did not wish it so," Sakura's calm reply prompted a guffaw from her blonde friend.
"Well of course not, that ugly face of yours would surely affront the Gods!"
Sakura sighed but did not rise to the bait. She took Aya's traditional post battle taunting for what it was—relief for mutual survival. Her beryl eyes surreptitiously glanced over the form of the prattling woman beside her and while some lacerations were worrisome, none were alarming enough to prompt immediate medical attention. Sakura felt a small measure of pride for her blonde friends prowess on the battlefield—she did not know what she would do if Aya had left her to dine in the Divine Kingdom. She took stock of own wounds by subtly flooding her body with what her people called "magic," but she knew it as "chakra." She healed her small wounds and then grasped Aya's hand to send some chakra through their linked hands to heal her as a small courtesy.
Aya's voice faded out and her expression transitioned from joyful to skittish. Her larger hand squeezed the smaller woman's in worry, "You should not be doing this here, Sakura, it is too dangerous."
"Hush, Aya, it will only take a moment," It was no secret that her people despised chakra, despised the destructive force behind the wars that ravaged and destroyed their lands and left them to starve. But they did not know how amazing it could be, how it could be used to save! But Sakura was no fool, and she knew how fear would lend to violence when confronted with something one did not understand.
If anyone were to take notice of the minuscule green glow of their joined hands, Sakura would suffer.
She released the other woman's hand and began to walk away when a hand clasped her shoulder with enough force to spin her around. She met Aya's eyes unflinchingly, narrowed with a clenched jaw.
"I am serious, Sakura. If you had been seen you would be killed," her whispered admonishment served to irritate the pink haired woman more, and her lips thinned in agitation.
"Would you rather die from infection in petty wounds, or in battle?" she spat and grunted when a sudden pain bloomed across her cheek.
She held her face in shock as her friend retracted her hand to fist it in the stained front of her armored tunic. Angry gray eyes bordered by kohl and crimson held onto Sakura's eyes for a moment before she was thrust away.
"I would rather lose all sight than see you burned, and yet you forget that."
Aya's hands were fisted by her side as her chest heaved in anger, and Sakura felt shame grip her heart. Here was a woman she had grown with, who'd suffered and loved as she had, and she had callously undermined her love for her by needlessly placing herself in danger.
"I am sorry…I did not wish to upset you, sister."
Aya sighed and rolled her eyes, her lips pursing in mock displeasure, "You are always sorry, Sakura, apologize with sweets instead of words next time."
Sakura chuckled as her friend began walking away, generous hips swaying exaggeratedly. She gingerly felt her swelling cheek in amusement, wincing as the gentle sweep of her fingers stung the reddened flesh, but laughed whole-heartedly all the same.
"You hit like a girl, Aya!" she called at her friend's retreating back. She watched the blonde place her hands on her hips, throw her head back and laugh.
"Good!"