Kitsune: I do not own the anime/manga Naruto in any way or form. This oneshot is just the product of my sick and twisted mind, plus it is also my first try at angst. I hope it worked out. I also hope I kept everyone in character.
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"You're sick, twisted!"she snapped, emerald eyes burning with hate. No reply was made. A low growl reberverated in her throat. "Say something, you bastard!"
"Remember?" One word, spoken in that cold and calm voice that froze her, kept her pinned down, not moving.
"What is there to remember!"she spat after regaining control of herself. Yet not all of her former spite was in these words. She shuddered, knowing he could see her resolve crack, see it without looking at her. She clenched her teeth, one hand brushing blood off of her cheek, smearing it with dirt and grime.
"Haruno...Sakura."
Her breath caught in her throat, and she froze once more, silently cursing her body, her body and its reaction to him. Fists clenched, nails carving crescent moons into her palms. "Damn you."
"For what? Helping you?"Her eyes rose to look at him, burning with emotion. Hate, and others, so much more prominent. Her breath quickened as she met crimson, not realizing he had faced her. He watched her, watched her shields crack and fall, fall without he having to do much of anything. And she looked at him, a broken tool looking at another one.
"I-Itachi,"she whispered, shaking violently, forgetting her hatred and her promise, her promise of revenge. She took a shaky step foward, ignoring the pain. Another step, then another, and then she fell.
Hands reaching out for support, she grasped his cloak, pulling herself up, eyes full of unnamed emotion. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you,"she repeated to herself, over and over, seemingly not noticing him. "I hate you. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I...hate him. I...hate you."
Emerald eyes met crimson, emerald eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I hate you, damnit!"she screeched, burying her face in the folds of his obsidian cloak, letting some tears loose. A muffled, sobbing voice whispered once more. "I hate you."
She clenched onto him, knuckles turning white with the grip, her mind blatantly ignoring the fact she was gripping on to him. "I...hate you. I hate you so much."
"Why."That cold voice once again, asking a question in a way it wasn't a question anymore, asking her, and she spat out the obvious answer.
"Why? Why?,"she asked, voice incredulous,"Don't you remember what you did to Sasuke? You're the reason he's gone, you and no one else!"
"For him. You hate me for him."Cold, calm, infuriating. That was his voice, and more tears sprung to her eyes as she clutched on tighter.
"Yes."Her voice wavered, uncertain, confused.
"What about yourself? Do you think of that?"
She let out a quiet gasp, her mind shying away from the inevitable. The question rose again, the question that wasn't a question, and it asked her, almost mockingly, and she knew it was true, she didn't have a reason, and she tried to run from it, run from the truth.
"I hate you,"she whispered, clinging even more as she tried to reassert herself, tried to make that statement a reality.
"Do you?"
And that simple statement broke her, broke her into a mass of tears, as she sobbed loudly, arms reaching around him, pulling herself closer to him, as closer as they could be. And she cried, wanting to curse him for doing this to her, for transforming her into this mess, for making her see the light, for making her feel this way. She couldn't though, wouldn't, as her heart betrayed her, and didn't hate him, didn't want to see him dead, didn't want to get revenge for losing Sasuke.
And she clung to him, pulling him to herself desperately, and he let her, let her that close. And he let her cry against him, let her hold him that close. Let her cry. And when her tears dried, she finally looked up, emerald expecting to meet crimson. And emerald met obsidian, and her eyes widened in shock, then a small, shaky smile came across her, and she whispered,"I don't hate you."
He now held her, her arms against his chest, and she reached up, and they met, lips softly brushing. And he watched, watched her, watched her as her emerald eyes slowly dimmed, and she finally left.
He set her down, and left, left the roseate-haired girl with the dimmed emerald eyes, the eyes that finally didn't have a flame in them, left the girl with a smile on her face, left the girl finally repaired, and left himself still broken.