Oh dear you look so lost........
Oh dear you look so lost
Eyes are red and tears are shed
You don't know me, you don't even care
You don't know me, you don't wear my chains

I don't know this girl, but I know she can help me feel good. Or better. Because I think good is beyond me. Beyond reach. Beyond….

I just killed a man today.

And I liked it.

A lot.

And it's hard to grasp in my mind. Because I remember so much. About Academy and exercises and instructions. But there's nothing like the real thing. Nothing like actually tearing flesh. Like grabbing at bones and feeling them break in your fingers. The framework of the human body crumbling like sand. Today wasn't the first time, and it won't be the last. But every time feels new different. It's different life. It's a different death. A different kill.

I left him in the fields outside his village. And covered him in moonlight. Because rouge ninja don't deserve much of a burial. His eyes were so white. So pure in that last instant. And then empty and hollow. He reached for me while he died. My sword through his belly. Our mediator. I felt his blood. He said "Son…"……he said…..No. Wrong person. Wrong kill.

But I didn't kill him did I? It gets so hard to remember, to separate the feelings from reality. I didn't kill him. Not directly I didn't. But I wasn't a good son. I wasn't anything he wanted me to be. May' be any number of those expectations could have saved him. But he's gone now. Vanished. Except for in me. Because I still look like him. And nothing and no amount of alcohol can change that.

I'm not drunk now. But still I'm sure that I don't know this girl. And I don't know this village. Just another stop on the mission. Cheap nightly rent so first choice. The regiment needed a place to stay for the night. She offered us free room and board. Which is crazy, I know because we're not in uniform. So, she couldn't possibly fear us enough to feel threatened. We're smoke and shadows. She's solid.

She's hot.

Her skin feels like fire.

She's holding my hand tightly. She says "Come on."

So I do.

So I'm guessing our stay was not entirely free. There was a catch. And that would be me. I've seen plenty of things in my life, but I still don't know what to expect from her. Coming to my room in the middle of the night and whisking me away like walks me to her room, leading me by the hand. Her hips switch from side to side like a pendulum. Puts me in a selfish trance. She must feel me watching. The corridor is dark, but what little light there is sticks to her. Her silhouette feels like a tightness in my gut. Or may 'be a little room is feminine and organized. Foreign and deadly territory to a male shinobi.

I wonder what the others are doing. If they're sleeping. If they're gone. I wonder why I agreed to this. I wonder about that rogue ninja. If he had family. If he had anybody to think about him and wonder if he'd ever be back. I'd cry for him. Except I don't have anyone myself and I never cry about that. Even when I sit down to think about it. But that might be because I just can't remember how.

To cry that is.

The girl sits me on her bed and climbs up on my lap. In the light I see that she's not a girl. She's a woman. Old. Older than she looked in dim light. Her skirt rises up around her thighs. Her legs are very lean and I want to touch her. Except I don't. Because I don't really know how. Because I shouldn't be here. And my hands are stained. With blood. I just killed a man today….I just…

She says "What do they call your type of ninja?"

While her spidery hand strokes my leg.

I say "ANBU." It just comes out. She doesn't act surprised.

Her lips are bowshaped. A little curvy dent slicing her top lip down the middle. They look soft. And slicked bright red. I should leave. She strokes my face. I think her peeling off my mask. The ANBU one. Dog faced. In my mind I hear the sound of that hard hand carved porcelain clatter to the floor. Like a dead body.

There were more than that one rogue ninja. Many more. I just went through them. Slicing with my father's hungry sword. Opening them up like gifts. Presenting their lives up to the night. And whatever entity might claim their fallen bodies. I felt invincible. I felt solid and all tied together. In those fleeting violent instances. Coiled muscles and aggression. Their pain to take away my pain. To even it all out. But only momentarily. After all, they're dead now. Forever free of what I still feel. And I'm starting to wonder which of us is better off.

But I can't say any of that out loud. Because it has nothing to do with this…moment. And I can't say any of it to this woman. I've already said too much. I know. She has no idea. Her fingers are in my hair. The sensation disturbs me. I feel strange. I'm not sure if I like it. Not sure if I like her. She leans closer to me. Her body smells like flowers. But her breath smells sweet like something else.

She says "I'm going to teach you something. Something that's going to take the sting away from those wounds."

I'm not wounded. At least not where she can see. Unless she has x-ray vision. Or this blasted Sharingan. Unless she can see straight through me. Inside. But I know she can't. She smiles like sex. Not sexy, though. But her hands know what to do. Where to go. I want to tell her to stop, but why should I? I close my eyes. It's hard to think about anything except her with her hands between my thighs. And I feel guilty for it. But that doesn't make the memories stop coming. I've given up fighting the people I lost. She especially always wins out. She being…

Rin.

The last girl I held this close to me. Not like this. We were still too young to do anything outside of innocence, then. When I tried to kiss her for the first time we bumped forehead protectors. She always made me smile like that. She vanished too, though. Eventually. They all did, now that I think about it. And it seems so unfair that they left me behind. If I could ask them I'd want to know what they expected me to do with myself. Now that I'm all alone I mean. If they ever considered that. Especially…..him.

She says something in my ear. Reminding me of where I'm at. The pleasure comes back, but it's not so good. My mind is elsewhere. She puts her head in my lap. Her eyes glued to me. I swallow hard. Her eyes are like lampshades. Full of light, but still covered in shadow. Still guarded. Like me. Like my own. Except she's ten years older than me, so where will I be at that age? I wonder why she's touching me. If she has severed connections and broken relationships, too. If she's lonely. Shinobi don't get lonely. They keep moving. They keep killing.

Or at least I will.

The lady takes off my gloves. They should be black. But they're rust stained. Caked with remnants of ninja movement. She reaches for my mask. I say "Please, don't." because that seems a little too personal. And I'm not ready. You never know the monster until he's naked. Until you can see the fangs and claws and scales bare. She doesn't know. She doesn't listen. Her smile is coy now, the crows feet fly up her face all the way to her eyes. She wrenches the mask down to my chin.

I watch her taking me in. The sixteen year old beast. She can tell by the scars I know. Her eyes stick to my left one. For a while. Before moving up and down my face. Slowly. All over. I've never been studied so closely. Like a horse at a watering hole, she's drinking me all in. Her expression doesn't change much. She touches my cheek.

"You're beautiful." She whispers.

I laugh. I can't help it. She's blind. She's giving me a bold faced lie, but may'be I'm off. And the monster is only what I feel. Then again, may' be she is blind. She is a lot older than I thought at first. Her face folds in like a toppled house of cards. Every err apparent.

"You don't think so?"

She turns me so that I can see a mirror nailed to her wall. A mirror. I hate those things. Right after I lost him I spent months breaking every one I saw. Now I have to control myself. So I won't do that. So I won't just get up and lose control. I might scare her to death. She'd scream. They'd put me out and…. She's rubbing the back of my neck. She wants me to look. So I do. I see Sakumo Hatake. All over. Bone structure and hair. Mouth, chin, nose. Shape of the eyes. Even in the jaded smirk that appears at the realization.

I see…him.

Obito Uchiha. Red eye. Pain. He won't leave me alone. Everyday. I buried him. But still there he is. Looking back at me. Always. Bright and in my face. So that I can't let go of the memory. So that I can't ever forget how much of a screw-up I am. How undeserving of this stupid power I am. Sharingan? Fake protégé. Quite a ninja.

I see Kakashi Hatake. Young and blind. And stupid. Barely holding on to himself. Pull it together. Wish you could, huh? Who cares now?I see them all. Obito, Sakumo, and Kakashi. Dead. Dead. And Dead.

But I do not see beautiful.

The lady kisses my ear. She kisses the side of my face. Kisses my lips. My neck.

I kiss her back.

Even though I'm afraid I can't show it. I won't. And she knows I haven't the slightest clue anyway. She's in control. And that's okay. Just this first time. She kisses my forehead. Opens my shirt. Can she see my heart? If she could she'd run she doesn't know. She doesn't know who I am. So she just keeps on kissing. Her lips get a little more possessive. And if my body wasn't reacting before, it is now.

I should probably ask her what her name is. But I guess that doesn't matter. I'll probably never see this village again. I'll probably never see her again. I probably only have tonight. Just tonight to find something like normal. To be someone together and perfect. Someone who's pieces all fit. So that when he looks in the mirror his face doesn't look like a puzzle with such jagged edges.

Yeah, so right now I'm somewhere close to modest. You could say virgin. But that will probably only last tonight.

Just for tonight. Or until I can find my next knowledgeable kill.

Until I can find my next kill.

Hm. She seems to know too much……