His hands were wet and sticky. It was drenched angry crimson, as if signifying the feelings of all those people he murdered. There were sweats, too… Murder weren't so much as a hard works as numbing his heart not to feel. Perhaps it already went numb since a long time ago. Somehow, it still couldn't justify the sweat on his palms.

A kunai almost jabbed his shoulder when he spun around. His palm was planted almost gently on his attacker's chest but the force of the blow was beyond measure. That renegade shinobi was thrown more than three meters away. Three more jumped to him but they stopped mid-air as a hurling of weapons caught their back.

Blood showered the ground and three men gurgled their last breath as they fell in loud crash. His eyes caught the movement of two scrolls and a dance in the air. And more hurling of weapons… and more blood… and finally silence.

A soft and light step touched the ground behind him, he didn't need to look back to see her. He scanned their surrounding for any sign of enemies but other than rustling leaves and whispering branches, there was nothing left. Other than the dripping of blood from his hands and her weapon, there was nothing left.

She was silent, and it didn't seem like she was collecting her uncountable weapons back. Instead, they stood back to back, observing and recollecting everything immaterial around them.

It had been the third time they slaughtered more than 20 men today. The renegade army was more than Hokage-sama thought they could swell in number.

"IT IS ALWAYS YOU WHO TAKE OUR FREEDOM AWAY!"

He didn't want to brush the blood off his palm on the grass. Perhaps it was the only honor he could grant to those people, by giving them the sign that they died protecting their believes.

"Do you believe in God?"

Her voice was the sound of a falling brook, brushing him with that relaxing gentleness.

His blank eyes eyed her, seemingly examining the cause of her asking him that. He turned around, looking up at the sky.

It was blue, the only thing that wasn't drenched with blood.

"I just don't believe in Fate."

She chuckled lightly.

"That's not an answer, Neji."

"Yes... perhaps it's not."

Her chuckle turned into a short laugh.

There was silence again. The blood was sticky on his hands but he didn't make the move to brush them off. Instead, his eyes turned to see how the birds flew back to their nests all around them, how the squirrels shuffled through the leaves once more, how life went back to its circle. He could envy how they only sniffed the air to taste the blood then discarded it right away.

A warm hand took his, brushing the now dried blood off his hands with a piece of white cloth.

"Neither do I, Neji."

OWARI

Author's Note: That was pointless…