There she sat with the crimson liquid dripping off her hand. The light of the full moon illuminated her blood red eyes and shiny black hair. The girl's long, slightly purple-ish tongue slithered out of her mouth and wrapped itself around her hand, tasting the irony blood as it ran down her arm. Then, the girl rummaged inside a small pouch on her right hip and pulled out a clump of blue light. The light flickered like the flames of a fire as she held it in the palm of her hand. The ghostly wisp was none other than thee soul of a middle-aged man whom the girl had murdered a few minutes ago.
She perched on a branch in a tall pine tree and stroked the soul as if it were a precious jewel. To her it was, but if it was so dear to her, why was there an insane desire to destroy it gleaming in her eyes? One reason, and a simple one at that. The man's soul was weak. The man himself had been weak for he was easy prey for the murderous girl.
Sensing that there was no more importance to the soul, the girl began to clench her hand together. The spirit started thrashing violently as if it were a true fire that just got soaked in gasoline. Its high-pitched squeals rang in the girl's ears like angelic singing. Oh, how she loved it. The sheer agony the poor little thing felt, the torment it must be enduring as her hand enclosed it.
The screams were louder and louder. A certain lust lingered in the girl's eyes. The tighter and tighter she squeezed, the higher and higher the squeals became, and suddenly…silence. Not a leaf rustled on the ground nor a tree swayed in the wind. Everything was deathly still.
The girl opened her hand and in it sat shimmering blue dust, all which was left of the killed soul. The murderer smiled wickedly, revealing her pointed fangs, and then ever so gently, blew the remains of the dead spirit out of the palm of her hand. The shimmers were picked up by the breeze and carried off to be forever lost in the dark forest.
The girl brushed her hair away from her face and gazed upward at the full moon that reflected off of her pale skin. A sense of triumph swelled in her chest, begging to be released. Unable to contain it, she opened her mouth and began laughing. It started out as small 'Heh…heh's which soon evolved into 'Ha! Ha!'s and then transformed into high-pitched shrieks of laughter. (For a visual see when Orochimaru is battling the 3rd Hokage and watch when he reveals the young girl's face. It is when he laughs that I modeled that specific part after.) Nearby, a shadowy figure watched his niece express her victory in a loud manner. The figure grinned maliciously as the moonlight shone on his yellow eyes.
"That's my girl," he whispered. "That's my girl."
The next morning when the girl awoke, there was a bubbling feeling in the pit of her stomach. She sat up in bed and tried to recall last night's events. Her head pounded and her insides churned. Abruptly, there was an enormous feeling that was almost sickening inside her. The girl jumped out of bed, rushed into her bathroom, and threw up. The taste of blood settled on her tongue and made her gag even more. Tears streamed down her face as she clawed at the tiled floor. Why, she kept asking herself. Why would I do such a horrible thing?
She remembered the man's pleas and begs; she remembered a voice inside of her head that drove her the kill him. The blood that splattered all over the floor and walls as she latched onto his throat and ripped it to shreds was all too familiar. The poor girl began to tremble after vomiting one more time and then raised her hands to eye level. The scent of blood clung to them like a wet leaf to the bottom of a shoe.
"Kiraa, breakfast!" she heard the familiar voice of her uncle call out.
Kiraa pushed herself up and stared in the mirror. Her eyes were no longer demonic red. Instead, they were their usual lemon yellow like her uncle's.
She pulled her cheeks down and groaned. Not now, she thought. Please Uncle, not now. Kiraa didn't feel like eating; she only felt like crawling back into bed and going to sleep until the sun was high in the sky.
The tired eighteen-year old let her feet drag as she trudged over to her bed and plopped down on it. The cool sheets felt so wonderful on her bare arms. Sadly, Kabuto, her uncle's right hand man who was a sliver-haired boy with onyx eyes and round glasses, interrupted her relaxation.
"Come on, Kiraa. You know how impatient you uncle gets. Out of bed, now," he stated flatly.
Kiraa only groaned once more, rolled over onto her stomach, and placed her pillow over her head. Kabuto folded his arms, adjusted his glasses, and shook his head with disappointment. Obviously Kiraa wasn't going to go without a struggle. Ah well, he thought, simple enough.
Without hesitation, Kabuto casually strolled over to the resistant girl's bed, popped each of his knuckles, grasped Kiraa's waist, and slung her over his shoulder. Too exhausted for protest, Kiraa hung limply like a useless sack and sighed deeply.
"I detest you greatly," she said, pushing her raven hair behind one of her ears.
" Oh, now Kiraa, I know you don't hate me that much, do you?" asked Kabuto, easing his way down the steps.
"Only when you wake me up like this I do."
Kabuto chuckled quietly at his master's niece. She looked like her uncle but acted nothing like him. Kiraa was not ruthless or power crazy. Only when the night of the full moon approached was she truly frightening. He had only seen her in her "state" once and had a terrible nightmare so scary that he couldn't get to sleep for the rest of the night.
"Kiraa's up," said the medical ninja as he walked into the kitchen with the girl still slung over his shoulder.
He placed her in her seat that was across from his on her uncle's left side. Instantly, Kiraa almost fell face first in her waffles but snapped her head up just in time.
"Good morning , Kiraa," said her uncle, smiling sweetly at her.
"Good morning, Uncle Orochimaru." Kiraa stared at him with a questioning and slightly freaked out look. "What's got you in such a good mood? Did Kidomaru fall down the stairs again?"
"Hey! That was only because Sakon pushed me!!" exclaimed Kidomaru and pointed his sticky fork at Kiraa who just rolled her eyes.
The snake Sannin laughed to himself.
"No, that's not why I'm in a good mood. The reason is that you did such a good job last night. I just couldn't be prouder."
Kiraa felt like she was going to throw up again. That disgusting bubbly feeling in her stomach had returned, and she couldn't bring herself to look at her uncle. How would she tell him that she was completely horrified with herself? Would he understand? Probably not.
"Umm…thanks Uncle." She stabbed absentmindedly at a waffle that she drenched in maple syrup.
"Hmph…well, eat up. We have a long day today."
"We do?"
"Well, actually, the Sound Four are headed to the Leaf Village. Kabuto and I shall be going with them. You will be staying here."
Orochimaru watched his niece's disbelieved and slightly angered reaction. First, her mouth hung open in an 'O' shape. Next, her eyebrows slanted downward as her mouth now closed for a tiny pout, her pale lips protruding outward. She folded her arms and looked away from him. This was her normal I-can't-believe-you're-taking-everyone-except-for-me look.
Obviously angered by her uncle's command, Kiraa snatched up her fork and began cutting the soaked waffle. As she raised a dripping piece to her mouth, the oh-so familiar "Oh, no you don't" was to be heard from Uncle Orochimaru. She focused her gaze on him, the bite of breakfast just inches from her waiting mouth.
"What!? You just told me to eat up!" she snapped.
"Yes, yes, I know. But I also told you numerous times that so much sugar isn't good for you. Now, put it down and get you a fresh one and DON'T douse it in syrup!" He lowered the fork from his angered and disappointed niece.
The raven-haired girl broke away from his hold and slammed the fork down on the table, a little bit of syrup flying across the table and hit the medical ninja sitting opposite her on the cheek. He wiped it off with his napkin and shot her an annoyed look.
"You're always doing this to me! You deprive me of everything!" Kiraa folded her arms tightly and huffed in a loud tone. "Damn it all."
Orochimaru sighed deeply and put a pale hand to his temple, his fingers moving the skin around in a circular motion. Yes, it was truly frustrating to have his beloved niece in such a pissed off mood because she'd always have a comeback up her sleeve whenever he'd scold her. The only thing was to have her go up to her room, have Kabuto fix some herbal tea to bring to the fuming girl, and wait until she cooled off enough to speak to.
Kiraa cast a quick glance at the aggravated Sannin. Just lovely, the look of exhaustion plastered on his face sent a pang of guilt through her heart. Wow, that's just what she needed, more guilt! First, it was the fact that she had murdered someone so mercilessly and killed his soul. Now, in addition to that, she had been rude to the only person who ever truly cared about her.
Sensing the seriousness of the situation, the guilt-ridden teenager slowly pushed back her chair and stood then adjusted her sleeping tank top. She looked down at her feet, then to her uncle. Slowly, she bent over to the right and wrapped her arms around his neck as an apology for her inappropriate behavior. The snake man was absolutely shocked, but in a good sort of way. This wasn't one of Kiraa's normal gestures, yet it meant so much to him.
"I'm sorry," she whispered and then straightened up, walked back up the cold, stone stairs, and into her room.
Orochimaru's eyes followed his niece until she was out of sight. The members of the Sound Four and Kabuto stared at him with questioning looks, but then when he turned to face them, they returned to their breakfast. The Sannin couldn't care less though.
After breakfast was over and everyone had put their dishes away, Orochimaru crept up the stairs and into Kiraa's room. Instantly, the sight of her sleeping peacefully made his face go from a serious, business-like expression to one that was soft and tender like the way a mother looked at her newborn child. The feeling of the loving expression sparked a memory in the snake man's mind.
His sister and her husband had inconspicuously made their way through the dark, rainy night, their faces hidden under hoods. He was just getting ready to go to sleep when they knocked on his door. Then, such a small baby girl emerged from the damp, white blanket. She appeared to be asleep with her hands curled into tiny fists.
"Please, Orochimaru. You're her only hope," the baby's mother pleaded. "Please, please, take care of her."
Slowly, he extended his arms outward and took the child and cradled her gently. Small droplets of rain were planted on her forehead, which he wiped off with her first finger. He knew nothing about baby care, but it was worth a shot for the child might be of use to him when she matured.
"Yes, I'll take her," he said, looking at his niece with tenderness.
Before his sister left, she kissed her baby's forehead lovingly. Tears formed in her eyes at the thought of never being able to see the child again. She whispered, "I love you and I always will, no matter what you are," and then disappeared into the night with her husband as quietly as they had come.
The Sannin slowly closed the eighteen-year old's door and muttered under his breath. When he returned downstairs, the Sound Four and the medical ninja were waiting. They set out. The planning for the operation was fast underway.