Rain. It filled the alley like millions of tears, the gods crying for the city of dirt. The City of Death, filled to the brim with prostitutes and addicts, liars and thieves, the natural, normal "citizens" of society. And she was part of it; a single cell in a body of greed.

She sat there, bored, her pink hair stained a deep red from the rain. She was crouched in an alley, leaning back against the wall, so covered in grime that she didn't want to really think about it. The streetlamp on the sidewalk in the mouth of the alley was flickering, like in some cliché movie. She smiled at that, but didn't bother with it. Her too-green eyes flickered closed and she withdrew into herself, utterly still. Her senses were on full-alert, listening for the crunch of footsteps and the harsh sound of human breathing above the patter of rain. She listened for the beat of a heart and sniffed the air occasionally for the scent of something like dark chocolate; smooth and delicious, not coppery like it was supposed to be. Blood.

After a few hours, she sensed someone of about the right weight and size, judging from his footsteps and his breaths. Soaked through to the bone, she staggered upright, theatrically clutching herself as if wounded. She stumbled into the street, feigning terror.

Seeing him within reach, frozen in the human state of shock that struck for a few seconds, she lunged and clutched at his worn, brown leather jacket.

Quickly, her mind raced as she took in his appearance. He had slanted, warm brown eyes that spoke of a kind, honest character, and a strong jaw. His hair was shaggy and dark brown, appearing black as it was flattened against his skull by the rain.

"Help me" she whispered, pretending to be weak. "Please, sir" she said, trying her damndest to appear earnest.

"You're bleeding!" he exclaimed, in real shock as his hands wave around helplessly before they settled around her biceps, as if to keep her upright with his strength alone. 'I could rip you apart in a second' the dark side of her mind thought. She waved it away.

"Yes, I suppose I am" was her response as she coughed up blood, having pierced her tongue with an elongated canine for the desired effect.

"We've got to get you to a hospital!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide and concerned as he took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around her like a real gentleman, amazed that she was on this side of the city in as little as a faded t-shirt and shorts. Such a tiny little thing she was; real pretty, with her emerald eyes that were almost inhuman in appearance and her dark red hair. She had pale skin like a porcelain doll, and a delicate bone structure like a fairy. He was so glad he'd been the first to find her instead of some gangbanger that he didn't notice her skin that was colder than normal. In the back of his mind, he just equated it with the weather.

He'd been on his way to his sister's friend's house for drinks as they watched the game, but he figured he'd understand that he was late. After all, he had to help women in need. It was how his mama raised him. Going to the hospital wasn't the best way to spend the night, but he figured it beat a few other things. Not many, granted, but a few.

'He's a good man' the girl thought as she leaned against him, still pretending to be weak and seeking warmth. And she was. She was so, so cold…had been for years. 'Not many would be such a martyr. He probably doesn't even expect anything in return'

He swooped and picked her up, arms coming around the back of her knees to cradle her against his chest, as if she were a bride. He acted as if she was a fragile, precious thing. Like she'd break if he were too rough. Really, it was the other way around.

He was a living, breathing, beautiful creature. He's God's creature, created by His loving hands out of dirt and clay. He would never live past this day, nor would he breathe again or laugh again or see his next birthday. His family would never again see his smiling face. They wouldn't even get a funeral or memorial to mourn. If he had a girlfriend or fiancée or wife, they'd have lost a good man; one in a million. His siblings and parents would have an essential member missing forever. They would have to move on, though, and continue living life, because this was how it worked.

He was one step too many down the food chain.

She nuzzled his neck, nostrils greedily inhaling the red scent of his chocolate blood. She felt herself shivering from need, her fangs elongated from hunger, her eyes dilated. Her tongue swiped over her teeth to try to shorten them again, to no avail. She was hungry, and her body was demanding that she give it sustenance. In a swift movement, she stood and yanked him back into the alley, bashing his head against the wall to knock him out.

Swooping in, she placed a kiss on his neck and licked it clean before her teeth pierced his skin, tanned from enjoyment of the sun. Aim perfect, she missed severing the jugular and instead grazed it, able to drink as much as she wanted. She fed and fed and fed, eyes becoming more feral as time went on.

They called her a monster; she was nothing but a creature, feeding off prey and struggling to survive in her environment. She was not natural, no, but she was certainly no monster.

The blood slid down her throat, caressing her senses like a lover. His blood was her life support, and she thanked him for it with all her shriveled heart. If not for his sacrifice, she would die. The consistency of his blood was thick and rich, and she shivered in delight, nerves on fire and breath quick. He was not stringy. Truly, a fine specimen and absolutely perfect for her meal.

He was out cold, so he didn't scream. He didn't struggle. Couldn't. She knew no one could have seen. Her senses were on full-alert, and no one was around for quite awhile. Empty.

She dropped him when he was dry and wiped her mouth. She stood above him, staring down at him and feeling just a sliver of remorse. She'd just killed a man. The second of that day. And she didn't really care.

Wasn't so helpless, then. Hadn't been for years. She never wanted to again.

Once, she'd been something innocent and pure. Like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. Happy and cheerful, with a brilliant, beaming smile and open face that expressed all her emotions. Her heart remained on her sleeve, and she hadn't cared. But people, in their cruelty, had taken advantage of her naïveté and beaten her and broken her, treating her like a toy, until one day her Master found her, during one of her many attempts to escape…and saved her.

She shook herself from her reminiscence and reminded herself that there was a job to do. She grabbed the drained body by the ratty Bob Dylan t-shirt he wore and lifted him easily with her unnatural strength. She didn't strain a bit as she heaved him onto her petite shoulder and strode down the alley to the dumpster, hidden in the back. She placed him in front of it and raked a clawed hand across his body several times with an animalistic savagery. She tore clothes and skin alike, and didn't really care, save for an absentminded annoyance that she'd have to clean beneath her nails.

She left him there to be found, if anyone bothered. It would look like a beast got to him. She took of his jacket and ripped it to shreds, a bit reluctantly. It was a nicely made jacket, after all. Very sturdy and rather rain-proof. She felt the leather tear and, once done, left that on top of him.

Turning, she began to walk back to headquarters, feeling sated and full. The rain didn't bother her; didn't seem to touch her. She seemed to glow, a broad smile upon her face. She wasn't really happy, just…warm, for once. The closest her kind could really get to it. So she was…content. She walked like a predator, graceful and feral and ready to rip out someone's neck.

And walk she did, until she heard the tell-tale 'whoosh' of sound behind her, imperceptible to human ears. She whirled around, once-expressive green eyes narrowed. She let out a low hiss when she noticed who it was.

He let out a slow clap, leaning casually against that damn flickering streetlight. Again with the clichés. "Nice show" he complimented with a leer. "Did you practice, princess?" he asked, his tone slightly nasty.

Her lip curled. "Shut it, Hidan" she growled, annoyed. Her mood was spoiled, thanks to him.

A single silver eyebrow rose, his piercing glinting in a menacing manner in the light that had just taken on a sinister appearance. "Oh, Sakura" he said, shaking his head. "He was such a nice man, too. Such a fucking great man" he drawled, contempt soiling his last sentence.

"Yeah, he was, Hidan. So what?" Sakura snarled back, his presence already far under her skin. "Mad you weren't ever like that? Angry no one ever liked you, and still don't? That we stay away from you like the plague?" she spat.

Hidan loomed, a dark silhouette beneath the streetlamp. "You're going there, Princess, really? Low blow" he smirked, his gleaming violet eyes hiding an intense anger at the world. His black cloak shimmered with the red clouds. So he was on Underground business, if he was wearing the uniform, she thought.

"I don't need to deal with this" she said, rolling her eyes in lieu of a response as she turned on her heel to leave him there and continue on her way.

"Au contraire, mon petite ami" Hidan replied, appearing in front of her again. His French was truly horrific. "I've been sent to get you" he stated, a bit smugly.

"For what?" Sakura asked, a bit surprised. "Have Aizen's group made a move yet? Shuuhei mentioned that they were planning something" she said, brows furrowing in her concern as her attention was diverted from their little spat.

"Naw. Ukitake said the bastards were moving, yeah, but they haven't really done a fucking thing" he replied moodily, falling into step beside her. She wondered why he was in such a foul mood, but she said nothing of it. She changed the subject.

"So, do you think Grimmjow will take me up on my offer?" Sakura asked, deciding that if she had to put up with him, they could at least speak like somewhat-civilized people.

"What offer?" he asked, the two words coming out a bit harsh, but his interest was piqued, despite his soured mood.

She rolled her eyes. 'He's oblivious. People've been talking about it for days'. "My offer on the Makara mansion" she said, pausing for a moment to let that sink into his thick skull, then added, "He needs to help me. He's one of the best thieves in the group, and despite him being one of my last choices, because, hello, he's about as stealthy as a blue elephant, I've already asked Hitsugaya, Kimimaro, and Renji, and they've all got other things to do" she sighed.

They walked in silence for a moment, in which Sakura wondered what was taking him so long to come up with a response.

"You could have asked me!" he snapped, his jaw clenched. "What are you, obsessed with the guy?"

"What are you, jealous?" Sakura retorted, instantly on the defensive.

"I'm not!"

"Right" she replied sarcastically. After a pause, she tried a new subject. "So, a little bird told me Pein wants you as my new partner" she said, darkened pink eyebrows raised in incredulity at the mere idea of it.

"Yeah, he does" Hidan replied, not too pleased with the idea either. It's not that they didn't get along…it was just that…well, they didn't get along.

"You think he'll really make it official?" she asked, worrying her lip between her normal-sized teeth, if they were slightly sharper than normal.

Hidan just shrugged. "It's possible" was all he would say on the subject. The two stayed silent until they reached headquarters, and then went their separate ways.


Sakura's head hit her pillow, and she puffed out a breath of air that fogged the humid room. Her eyes slid closed, and before she would let herself sleep, she made herself do her daily ritual that had kept her sane in the beginning, and was now a comfort.

Who am I?

Sakura Haruno, vampire.

What do I do?

Survive, and try to shut down Aizen.

Who do I work for?

Yoruichi, Kisuke, Pein, and Konan.

Who do I work with?

Hidan, Deidara, and sometimes Rangiku.

Who am I?

Sakura Haruno, and I was once human.