Author's Note:
Thoughts
"Speaking"
Naruto is Masashi Kishimoto's property. I only wrote this to amend my Writer's Block.
There were no clouds that night, a sight that had Kimiko's eyes fixed to the sky. She couldn't sleep, a thing that was a regular occurrence for her, so she sat quietly on the balcony rocking chair overlooking the empty streets of Konoha. Her hand rested comfortably on her extended belly as she rocked, giving it a soothing rub. Her baby had always acted up at night, but this time it was more than usual. Sweat trailed down her forehead to her tanned cheek. She tried to keep it a secret, Kimiko didn't want to worry anyone. Alas, all her effort was in vain thanks to her husband. The man was so skilled. Keeping a secret from him, especially one at this magnitude, was impossible.
And he wasn't happy when he found out.
Kimiko frowned, mind trailing back to the argument she had an hour ago with the raven haired man. She knew she was fine, she just had to be! This was all just part of the experience of pregnancy. At Least that's what she told herself. Kimiko closed her eyes as another kick came from the baby. Once they subsided she opened them and sighed. It was all for the best, she told herself, her husband was just worried for her. A trip to the hospital wouldn't hurt anyone. Kimiko bit her lip as she rubbed her belly once more. If what she thought was so, then why was she so apprehensive?!
Why was she so scared?
The sound of broken glass knocked Kimiko back into reality. Her anxiety was replaced with confusion as a slight chill ran down her spine. Kimiko ignored it, carefully pulling herself out of the chair before walking carefully back into the interior room.
"Honey?" Kimiko called, one hand protectively on her stomach.
No one answered. Instead the sounds of a struggle erupted from behind the bedroom door, down the hallway that was just outside the kitchen. Kimiko's eyes widened, body stiffening inside the dark room. As she hushed her frantic breaths she could hear, all to clearly, the surprised grunts of her husband as he desperately tried to fight off whoever was inside with him. Kimiko acked on instinct and ran to find something, anything to protect herself with. She was in the kitchen, the clattering of cutlery hitting the floor as she scoured one of the many drawers. Her breath hitched when she brought out her favorite kitchen knife. She held it up in the air like it was her saviour, blade glinting in the moonlight.
"That won't do you any good." The voice was deep, emotionless, but so, so young. Kimiko stilled, the sudden burst of fear crawling up her spine and into her soul. As she slowly turned around she couldn't help but wonder, at the griping feeling in the back of her mind
That voice...
That voice sounded familiar...
When her eyes landed on the unwelcome newcomer, all she could do was scream.
...
I don't know why I wrote this. Send Help. Writer's Block is killing me.