Chapter Title: The Craving

Rating for this Chapter: Pg-15

A/N: Alrighty so here's the second chapter I hope everybody enjoys it. I'm sorry it took so long to write but sometimes I'm not feeling so inspired and other times I am inspired but just not sure how to express it. Thank you so much to all those that reviewed and added to favorites and alerts. One person asked if this was going to be like Resident Evil; the answer would be no I didn't intend for it to be like Resident Evil, I have actually never seen/played it (I don't know if it's a game or movie), so any coincidences are just that, coincidental. There isn't any Naru/Saku yet but there will be soon enough, probably within the next two chapters. Please leave any questions in the form of a review because I never check my email J.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or the lyrics to Korn's song "Thoughtless"

Thumbing through the pages of my fantasies

Pushing all the mercy down, down, down

I wanna see you try to take a swing at me

Come on, gonna put you on the ground, ground, ground

He felt it, there was no way he could have not felt it. It was just to deadly and powerful to ignore. He sat up bolt-straight, the blood rushing from his head causing his shredded cheek to pound painfully, his vision blacking out for just a split-second. What the hell, was his first waking thought--his second was O shit. As soon as he could collect himself he was speeding through the Akatsuki's base, practically flying down its many darkened corridors. Already his hand-mouths were set to work, chomping and molding the hard cold clay into beautiful, explosive pieces of art.

Whoever, whatever it was, was making no attempt what-so-ever to conceal itself. The waves of lethal chakra kept hitting him, making it hard to keep a firm resolve on not running in the opposite direction. He was no coward in any sense of the word, but his missing-nin instincts were kicking into over-drive; he had not survived so long as an S-class criminal in the bingo book by not picking and choosing his fights carefully. In this case though he had no choice, that destructive, noxious chakra was somewhere inside the base, somehow it had penetrated Akatsuki defenses, it could not be left alone to find their hidden secrets, and potentially devastating jutsu scrolls.

Like a winding maze, every twist and turn brought him closer to that potent, awesome chakra.

Deidara only wished at that moment he had somebody there with him to confront the unknown…

--

So cold…Sakura woke suddenly to find her whole body felt like it had endured an ice-storm, shaking and shivering. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't even open her eyes. But she was aware, aware of everything. The constant, agitating drip of water from the ceiling, the irritating buzzing of a house fly, the uncomfortable spring coils poking her sharply in her back. She could even hear Deidara's near-silent footsteps and his harsh, quiet breathing as he approached her room door as though he were stomping around screaming. Gods! Can't he be quiet! Freaking annoying son of a…Everything was making her angry, really angry, and she wasn't even completely sure why.

A weird pressure was building inside her, but it was more than just the maddening rage she felt imploding inside her. It was like a mass of pure, white-hot energy straining and pulling and expanding, like it wanted to explode but couldn't release itself. It was so hot, and yet she felt so cold, like the cold of a person near death as their soul leaves their physical body. The tension mounted, continued to build, she couldn't take it. This was worse than any pain, any anguish, any emotion she had ever felt; bad or good.

It's time, Sakura.

She didn't even register the whisper, all she heard was her own disturbing, bloodcurdling scream rip from her throat. The ball of energy burst, lighting her veins on fire, taking her to new heights of torment and pain. Sakura's large, watery eyes snapped open revealing a whole new world of sights to her, everything was so clear, so very, very crystal clear. She saw every crack in the wall, every colorless fiber in her old T-shirt, every small movement--including that aggravating, insignificant house fly that didn't seem to have a clue that it had earned the wrath of a possessed Sakura.

Deidara burst through the door just as his pink-haired prisoner disappeared from her bed. Long blonde hair, unfixed and very tangled, whipped about his blue eyes from the powerful wind howling in the now-very-bright room. Purple and onyx colored chakra swirled violently like a miniature hurricane, flashing and blinding his squinting eyes. Pieces of broken furniture were tossed carelessly around by the current as though they weighed nothing--the mad-bomber dodging the very same bed he had just been laying on the night before. The eye of the small, but vicious storm was facing away from him, her hand held up clenched in a tight fist.

Sakura? He thought completely shell-shocked, what the hell happened, yeah?

It was obvious she was furious, he could feel the waves of savage anger rolling off of her almost as keenly as he felt the deadly chakra whirling around him. He was so shocked by the whole ordeal he almost didn't see her dwarfish-size fist unclench revealing the gooey remains of what appeared to have once been a bug smeared across her palm. Overkill, he thought with a tad bit of humor he wasn't really feeling at that moment.

"Deidara," The sudden sound of his name being uttered by the most wickedly-devilish voice he had ever had the displeasure of hearing left his mouth slightly agape. Her voice was twisted and joined together with another voice that was vile and deep like some unholy matrimony of sounds. "Deidara," She repeated, almost humorously this time, turning ever so slowly to face him. "If you don't shut your mouth the flies will get in." She suddenly flicked the bug's rolled-up sticky corpse right at his mouth, he barely managed to evade the tiny carcass. It imbedded itself in the wall behind him, and he was glad he hadn't tried to catch it.

It felt so good, the frighteningly-powerful chakra right at her fingertips, so deadly so…Intoxicating. Sakura could smell Deidara's confusion and hesitation, she could see the bead of sweat trickling a wet path down his torn, bloody cheek, she could hear his heart racing beating with the anticipation of her next move. "Lets play a game," She offered; the sweet soft alto synchronous with the low-pitched silky timbre. Sakura grinned cruelly at Deidara's unmasked tension, she easily saw the way his long-fingered hands twitched anxiously; probably chewing his disgusting clay-bombs, she thought inwardly amused he would actually think that could possibly help him.

"Lets play, yeah. I'm good at games." She gave him points for bravery, then detracted them on account she knew he wasn't at all good at games. The fact he never even really played along with her pranks all these years proving her point and resurfacing her hard-endured memories, she felt oddly saddened thinking about the lonely nights she spent sitting and crying alone in her four-walled prison; always alone.

The bewilderment at the sudden, unwanted emotion was soon replaced by a boiling rage that sweltered and blistered like a wound over an open fire. No, he had never went along with her childish games, he had only lost his patience and even beat her--vaguely she realized her broken ribs and other injuries she had received when she passed out were now healed. Never mind he was a heartless bastard, the mad-bomber of the power-hungry organization, Akatasuki; he was still human damn it, he could have done more for her, even if it would have been a little bit. At the very least it would have been something…

A large salty tear sprung from Sakura's glassy, now-violet hued eyes. And now he would pay for it, they all would. She would stop at nothing to tear their beating hearts out of their chests as they watched. That is if they even have hearts, she thought, seriously wondering if they did and morbidly wanting to find out.

Deidara watched Sakura's ever-changing emotions on her distorting face. They changed so fast he could hardly tell one apart from another, she seemed lost in some far-off wonderland, completely ignoring him or so it seemed. Not one to miss gaining an edge on his opponent he launched several bird bombs towards the swirling vortex, the resulting explosions blew up the entire room, knocking down the sandstone walls. The flying furniture was incinerated to ash, and the ceiling collapsed causing dust to disperse everywhere.

The very dirty blonde coughed and laughed all at once, feeling her chakra level dying under the massive weight of the ceiling. Squashed, like a bug yeah. He spent a few minutes watching and waiting to make sure she was dead, her life so easily snuffed out by his detonating clay. So easy…Too easy. Those two little words kept nagging at him, too easy. Her chakra had been so devastatingly-powerful and it had been so simple.

She hadn't been paying attention, he reminded himself pointedly, though that seemed like a lame explanation. Unconvinced with his reasoning and wary of a sudden unexpected attack, he hid under some rubble concealing his chakra and staring intently at where he last felt her life energy. Everything was eerily silent, not even a sound from the exposed outside world penetrated the uncanny muteness. Moonlight, soft and silver, spilled over the decimated bedroom, the moon itself only half-full and half-way through its never ending cycle. The dust was beginning to settle though it still stung Deidara's sinuses--he had to control himself as to not sneeze or cough.

He sensed it, the sudden flaring of raw energy coming from directly under the caved-in roof. Damn it, yeah. Knew it wouldn't be that easy. There was a tremor in the ground, like the beginnings of a very nasty earthquake, they grew violent and Deidara worried his unstable hideout would crush him. A huge rock in the middle of the rubble and mess was sent sailing through the air crashing into and destroying an unfortunate tree right outside the base.

There she stood standing at the center of the swirling, twisting chakra, screaming and roaring all at once; the sound making Deidara cover his ears, it was unearthly and supernatural, terrifying and hair-raising, as though it came from the very bowels of hell.

She was far from dead.

The pink-haired hellion was gone in an flash, before Deidara could even think to move she reappeared before him kicking him hard in the head. Like the enormous rock she had thrown, he was sent flying, hitting and going through several walls before one managed to hold up and stop him. He couldn't even think, but his shinobi instincts were screaming at him to get up, to fight, to run, to do something, anything to protect himself. He just couldn't he felt as though his head had been ripped off, not to mention the sharp stabbing feeling in his neck. He prayed to any god that might be listening--though he doubted any would--he was not paralyzed.

His yellow hair lashed and thrashed about his face as the air around him began to crackle and whirl with raw, unrestrained chakra. He couldn't move his head to glance up but it was obvious she was there, standing before him probably about to finish the job of tearing his head off. Instead he was hauled effortlessly up above her lithe form, his feet dangling a good four or five inches above the ground. He was now able to get a good close-up look at her and personally he really wished he hadn't looked; the pure unadulterated malice and hate that blazed in her glowing violet-hued eyes made him feel as though a huge hole was being burned in his very soul. The savage, snarling look on her face was enough to alarm any hardened shinobi and he was no exception. She looked possessed, and she was he reminded himself.

"How does it feel?" She asked, though she knew for a fact he could not answer even if he had wanted to. "How does it feel to be the prey? The one at the mercy of another?" The demon-possessed girl shook him hard, sickeningly-fascinated at the way his head lolled side to side falling into painful unnatural positions. Sakura brought him closer to herself, his ear next to her mouth letting him feel her chilly breath on his broken neck. "Get used to it, you're going to be at the charity of others for rest of your days. I hope your little friends are as kind to you as they were to me. And by the way, you lost." She dropped him, letting him fall into a heap of motionless muscles and broken bones on the cracked sandstone floor.

She stared at him for several minutes, her rage icing over; his paralysis state acting as a balm to her rapidly cooling anger. It was enough he would never move again, or be able to hurt another innocent, she knew this fate was much more satisfying than just killing him and ending the misery he was going to be forced to endure. Not to mention he would act as a warning to the Akatsuki of what she was capable of, she wanted them to know she could and would destroy them in a heart-beat.

But what now?

Sakura walked back to where the original fighting took place, smiling genuinely happy when she saw the oddly shaped moon hanging in the starry night. She stood in awe at the sights and sounds around her, the chirping of gaily singing crickets, the gentle motion of the tree-tops as their branches swayed in the mild, balmy breeze, the tall grass moving from side to side like green baby's hair, so fine and delicate it looked.

Sakura was rooted to the spot as empty, undesired memories filled her mind, memories void of hope or love. This had been her hell, her prison, her…home, for the past four years of her forlorn, solitary life. It was all she had known, if it hadn't been for her precious books she would not have known there was a world out there, a world of dreams and adventures, of life and happiness…of freedom. The sudden realization of her new liberty had her literally leaping in the air for joy. She spun, danced, screamed, cried, laughed; it was to much all the feelings and emotions overwhelming her sensibility.

Stop acting like a fool, you are not safe yet idiot girl.

Sakura immediately sobered at Nekomata's harsh, but very true words, she was not safe from the Akatsuki's ever reaching claws. Deidara may have been taken care of but there was still an unknown amount of other members out there--who knew how powerful they might be. Landing on the edge of the moonlit meadow, she looked out beyond the quiet, serene scene into the dark, welcoming forest. That, she decided, would provide ample cover until she decided on her next course of action.

The escapee bounded into the shadowy woods, ignoring her tired body's protests to much in good spirits to care she was half-starved and completely worn-out from the night's antics. She was free. Nothing else mattered, she had the whole world ahead of her. All she had to do was avoid the Akatsuki.

Little did she know nobody else had ever accomplished such a feat…

--

I can't do it. A frustrated growl emitted from somewhere deep in Sakura's mind.

You will! We can not keep traveling like this with you malnourished and weak. You can rip a person's heart out but you will not kill a worthless creature that will provide you vital sustenance? This is moronic!

She inwardly blanched at the heated tone but absolutely refused to budge on the issue. I know there has to be other things to eat, there's got to be something, anything besides this. Nekomata snarled giving her a pulsing headache from the sheer volume echoing in her mind. Though watching the strange furry creature hop around the clearing, completely oblivious to the danger made her large, bloodshot eyes soften. I can't kill something that looks so innocent, I'd rather starve.

She relaxed when she felt the presence of the demon-cat calm somewhat, though crouched there hidden among the shrubs and thorny bushes she was still uncomfortable, and hungry so very, very hungry. Her own stomach betrayed her grumbling loudly, the animal's long fluffy ears twitched at the sound but it did not seem to be startled.

Four times the sun had risen to create the new day since she had left the Akatsuki hellhole. What an interesting and miserable four days it had been. Constantly on the alert for black cloaks, and silver-lined crimson clouds, she had not slept, eaten, or bathed, she truly was at a breaking point. She knew she was being followed, Nekomata had sensed huge chakra levels trailing her. The demon-cat had concealed her presence from the prying red eyes of the deadly shinobi who was currently in hot pursuit. One time he had been so close to her she could smell his unique scent of sandalwood and blood. It had been so long since she had last seen him, but she still remembered those calm, knowing eyes. Yes she remembered, she remembered everything…

Sakura shook herself free of the haunting memories and was about to leave to try to find some other form of food that didn't look at her with glassy, angelic, brown eyes when there was a sudden flash of black and gray. The fuzzy creature gave an alarmed, fearful cry as it was snatched up in the powerful maws of two ferocious wolves.

Sakura had to bite back her own scream of panic, covering her mouth with both hands. What was going on? They were ripping it apart! It was horrible! It was shrilling in pain, being pulled apart by the iron-grip of the wolves' mandibles. One shook its great head violently, the rabbit's crying grew louder, piercing, unbearable to listen to. Why wasn't she moving? Why wasn't she trying to help it? The sound of bone snapping and flesh ripping intermixed with the yelps of malicious-joy from the hunting pair. She watched horrified as the tiny creature's carcass was torn to shreds by snapping jaws.

Nekomata chuckled darkly.

The smell of blood filled her sensitive nose, making her vision hazy and her adrenaline start pumping. It smelled…good, really good. Sakura's survival instincts began kicking in over-drive, her bloodlust rising to new heights.

So hungry…

Forgetting her horror and nausea at the whole situation--the conscience reliable part of herself buried under the burden of near-starvation and wild bloodlust--She sprang into the clearing startling the fierce predators into dropping their dead prey. They growled eyeing her with hungry wantonness, both sets of blood flecked ears flat against their huge heads, rows of shining white teeth gleaming and baring at her. Both were so much bigger than she, but that didn't stop the tiny pink-haired green-eyed beast from savagely snarling right back at them. The aura of pure blood thirst and power emanating from her had both the wolves tails tucked between their legs, one even whimpering.

All it took was her making a fake lunge at the hunters and they were scampering off to take cover in the over-grown woods, leaving the mutilated corpse behind. Deep inside under the maddening starvation and blood-craving Sakura was grateful she didn't have to dispose of the beautiful, yet deadly pair.

She felt sick when she knelt next to the rabbit corpse, carefully peeling off a piece of red, gory meat. Hesitant the dripping substance hovered close to her mouth, the smell of the crimson liquid was utterly intoxicating, but the revolted part of her kept it at bay. Her mid-section felt as though it were lit on fire, and the torment of the sharp hunger-pangs was becoming more than she could handle. It was a losing battle. Without a second thought she popped the bloody strip in her drooling mouth delighted and disgusted at the bittersweet taste.

Where has this blood-thirst come from? Is there no hope for my humanity? She felt her tired eyes burn with unshed tears at the cruelty and injustice of the animal's slaughter and ultimate demise. She hadn't lifted a single finger to save it, she had been so startled by the sudden violence. Such violence…

The demon-panther gave a bellowing laugh that just plain-out pissed her off, why did he always find such amusement at her suffering and inner battles? My dear foolish Sakura, you truly are naïve. Hope is the rejection of what is, a person who clings to hope will be destroyed by their own stupidity and helplessness. Do not speak of such things as hope it is utterly fatuous and simply laughable. Surely you of all humans, who has been through so much pain and anguish would know that what I say is true.

Those words were like a bucket of ice water being thrown over her, they left her feeling numb and so empty she felt like breaking down and sobbing, but she didn't; instead she took those spiteful, virulent words to heart, and continued to slowly peel the flesh from the bone and eat. Nausea almost making her spit it all back up.

This is the world we live in Sakura, the weak are hunted down and dealt a fatal blow while the strong enjoy and take part in such activities. That is the law of the living, do not try to deny or change it, you will fail miserably. Humans are no exception, they tend to be even more animalistic than the beasts of nature.

Even if it was the truth, even if it was the law, it hurt a lot to hear it said. She had been so heartened and hopeful at her escape. For the first time that she could remember she had thought she had a new reason for living, to find life and cling to it, to destroy those who had done injustice to her, to maybe someday find her parent's murderers. But now she had to ask herself- What was the point? Iniquity and cruelty would continue to dominate as long as there was evil. She alone could not stop it, how could she when she herself was harboring a monster of death and destruction, utilizing the death cat's powers for her own selfish ends?

There must be something worth living for out there, she thought much to Nekomata's amusement, and I will find it…

--

"Fuck you, Kisame!" The blonde, mad-bomber yelled causing the shrak-nin to roar with belly-shaking laughter, nearly falling out of his wooden chair. "I swear I'm going to--"

"Your going to what? Pout me to death?" He gave another great laugh at his own joke, wiping an imaginary tear from under his odd round eye. "Now take your food like a good baby." Again Kisame dipped his silver utensil into the mush--his own cooking--spooning up a good amount. Leaning over Deidara's prone form he began creating airplane noises by pursing his thin, blue lips and blowing through them. Several droplets of spit landed on the furious blonde's forehead and tangled hair. He sent the dripping spoon flying around the angry, embarrassed face of Deidara, trying his very hardest not to laugh and spill it all over him.

"I am not a fucking baby, yeah!" The look in his cobalt eyes was murderous, but the sulking pout on his lips was more than Kisame could take, he shook with barely contained laughter. A clump of the gross-smelling mush dropped just below his nose, the smell making Deidara sick to his stomach. "Watch where your spilling that shit! It's deadly."

"Could you mother-fuckers be quiet for five minutes, some people like silence while trying to perform a complicated jutsu. Especially you, you little ungrateful pussy." Hidan's sudden out burst had them both looking at him (Deidara glaring heatedly from the corner of his ocean-blue eye, not able to turn his head to get a good look) sitting in the far corner of the room, surrounded by what seemed like hundreds of glowing candles.

"Bah! This is boring anyway, get Tobi to feed you." Deidara's eyes widened in unmasked horror at that suggestion; he'd much rather starve. The last time the overly joyful, extremely eager Akatsuki tried to feed him he had shoved spoonful after spoonful of mash into his mouth without even waiting for him to chew or swallow. Deidara had promptly spit all of it up thus earning his new mortifying nickname from Kisame--Baby. That had been a week ago and still the teasing had not let up.

Kisame left, thinking it was very funny to leave the over-flowing bowl of mush on Deidara's stomach, he had no control on whether it spilled on himself or not. He watched warily as with each breath his stomach lifted and fell, the bowl tipping and teetering to one side and then the other; Damn him.

The paralyzed teenager sighed resigning himself to waiting. The quiet mumbling and whispering of Hidan, deep in concentration and praying to his God gave him great comfort. At least he wouldn't be helpless forever like he had thought, and when he could move again he would find her, hunt her down to the ends of the earth for all the embarrassment and pain she had put him through. His reputation was now in shambles thanks to that nuisance of a brat. The last thing she had said to him played back in his mind, his anger flaring at the memory.

'And by the way, you lost', the words repeating in his head, taunting him, the repetition driving him insane.

I never lose, yeah.

The bowl fell over, Deidara cursed.

--

Sakura nearly laughed out-loud at the sight before her, high in the treetops sitting on a branch strong enough to support her weight, she had finally spotted the first signs of civilization. About two maybe three miles away was a village, the straw huts and pillar of smoke marking it as such.

She wasn't sure how long it had been since her cataclysmic breakout of the world's most feared and revered criminal's organization's hideout, but it sure felt like a long time. It felt like it had been months though she was positive it hadn't been that long, at the very least she knew that much.

Sakura had been wandering aimlessly since that incident, neither her or Nekomata had any idea where she might be, and both had no sense of direction what-so-ever. Either that or he really just didn't give a damn about where she went. Her only hope of finding a ninja city where she might learn to become a shinobi was in finding a place where directions could be asked--now here was her opportunity not a mile away. Soon she could start the life she had always dreamed of, the adventure, the excitement, the freedom.

Sakura nearly fell off a tree branch, about a hundred feet off the ground. Her daydreaming replaced with an over-whelming sense of dread and trepidation, something was wrong. The smell of death and smoke wafted from the direction of the quant village, screams of despair and desperation met her sensitive ears. She picked up her speed somehow sensing evil was afoot, and suddenly angry though she had no reason to be, yet.

"My baby! My baby! Please no, please!" The choked half-screamed half-sobbed plea was coming from a woman in her mid-thirties, her pretty face contorted in pure agony. She was being held back by a medium-built man, his eyes gleaming in a cruel manner, thin lips grinning at the woman's distress. A large crowd was formed in a semi-circle around them watching helplessly, obviously just as distraught as the crying girl.

A hut was burning in front of them, the hot, hungry flames licking and crawling up the sides of its straw walls. Black, thick smoke rose high into the sky curling and dissipating into the atmosphere. Two armed ninjas stood guard near the door of the blazing house, one was sneering much like his apparent comrade holding a sharp kunai out before him as if daring one of the civilians to try and save whoever was inside. The other was more hesitant-looking, his face marked by guilt and his eyes darted about nervously as though expecting some evil monster to come leaping out of the woods.

Which is in fact what happened.

Sakura did not stop to try and understand the situation, nor did she falter at her shock of seeing people other than the Akatsuki for the first time she could remember. All she knew was somebody needed her, possibly a child. Neither of the guarding ninjas could have possibly stopped the blur of movement that crashed through the blackened door, knocking down the obstacle as though it were nothing--it was only straw after all.

'This is the world we live in Sakura, the weak are hunted down and dealt a fatal blow while the strong enjoy and take part in such activities.' The death cat's spiteful words came back to her with a vengeance as she entered the smoking, darkened room. The shrill cries of an infant guided her to a kitchenette area, or rather what was left of it. The smell of burnt flesh made her head spin, and she prayed it wasn't the babe's. The room was bright with bursting flames, the light making it almost impossible to see through the smoke and ash.

Luckily the baby was loud enough to follow with its insistent wailing and bawling. She was able to spot the small, wiggling form wrapped in an ash-covered blanket on top of a combusted table. The flames making their way towards the babe, eager to consume the tender flesh. Quickly Sakura picked up the crying child, cradling it protectively against her chest.

Those bastards. How could they do this? Burning a baby alive while forcing the mother to watch helplessly. They were using their powers to do a great evil against an innocent person; innocent because in Sakura's heart she knew nothing that the mother or the village could have done could have warranted such a vile act of inhuman wrongdoing.

The building was going to collapse soon, the groaning of the weakened walls warning the now violet-eyed Sakura of the imminent danger. She wanted to look at the baby's face, curious as to what a tiny human looked like, but at the same time not wanting the poor thing to inhale the deadly, choking smoke. The child had gone completely, eerily silent, Sakura's now-demonic presence frightening it into hushed submission.

Her pent-up anger grew hotter than even the inferno around her. It broiled and sweltered like a lava building up inside a volcano, ready to explode with its all-consuming rage.

'That is the law of the living, do not try to deny or change it, you will fail miserably.'

I won't deny the immorality or the fault of these humans, she thought, her fury turning into a sudden crazed thirst for spilled blood. But I think I will change them, quite permanently. Her inner thinking was met with reticence, and the undeniable sick blood-lust she had been experiencing so much of as of late.

Her cat-like eyes adjusted to the light of dusk as she exited the caving-in hut. She was greeted by the unbelieving stares of the villagers and the confounded looks of the ninjas. Bathed in the crimson light of the sunset, pink hair red as blood, narrowed angry eyes glowing with a rage and fury none of them could possibly comprehend, the roaring fire crackling behind the mysterious girl like a pyre for their own funerals; the sight was overwhelming for most of them, some even fleeing from the hellish scene.

All the desperate mother saw however was the tiny bundle clutched carefully against the girl's bosom. Pushing passed her captor--he was currently to shocked to breathe or even begin to hold the struggling parent from her offspring--she ran straight to Sakura ignoring the way the air pulsed with lethal energy, and how the aura around the girl was so cold she felt like her very soul would freeze over despite the hot blazing flames of the bonfire so near them. All she wanted was her baby, the only thing she had left to live for in this cruel uncaring world.

With outstretched arms she reached for her child, sobbing with unveiled joy as she approached. She didn't dare look up into those scorching, amethyst eyes as the noiseless babe was handed to her. Tears streaking her dirty but pretty face she pulled back the covers of the blackened blanket, revealing a pair of scared aqua-colored eyes. The child's face was pale with fright but so pure and angelic Sakura hardly noticed the tensed look. It began wailing, recognizing its mother.

'Humans are no exception, they tend to be even more animalistic than the beasts of nature.'

The monster that was Sakura stalked past the bawling pair, her dangerously narrowed eyes trained on only three, trembling people, if they could be called such things as human beings. She could feel Nekomata's excitement at the carnage that was about to take place, Sakura to far-gone within her almost-crazed anger to care. All she wanted to do at that moment was to satisfy her uncontrollable craving for blood, she didn't just want to kill them she wanted to see them suffer, she wanted to taste their fear and panic as they felt their life slipping from their reaching grasp.

She stopped about ten feet away from the bullies, the crowd of villagers had dispersed leaving them to fend for themselves. The apparent leader of the cowardly trio stood in front of her arms crossed attempting to appear undaunted by Sakura's deathly-cold presence, of course she saw through his façade just as easily as she saw his brow bead with nervous sweat--his display of bravado utterly wasted on her. The other two did not do so well under the demonic pressure of her seething anger, the guilty-looking one she had took note of earlier was shaking so badly it looked as though he were going to drop his kunai; the other, like his dastardly leader, strived to show no fear a sneer marring his otherwise handsome face, but all his work of looking bold and unimpressed was ruined by the fact his eyes were very much wide with obvious dread and terror.

She didn't say anything, just watched their apprehension consume them as the dying sun cast her in a bloody-scarlet. Her face darkening with growing hate, eyes trained upon them as if daring one of them to make a move…Wanting one of them to make a move.

"So you think your going to play savior to these treacherous villagers?" It was the leader who spoke first, his voice grating on her nerves, igniting even more of her welcomed rage. "Well your wrong girlie, these people are mine and when I decide to punish a lying slut I'm going to punish her. And when I get done with you it's going to be much, much worse for her. You shouldn't have interfered."

A wicked, deep-throated laugh sounded from behind him, he whirled around sensing the demonic chakra flare and pulse suddenly from his backside. "Hajime!" He wanted to turn around and see what his youngest teammate was screaming about but he couldn't take his gawking eyes off the maniacally-grinning girl, her razor-sharp fangs gleaming crimson. How had she moved so fast? "Brother! No, no, no…" Above the despairing screams of Ichiro he could hear the sickening gurgling of someone desperately trying to take in air but only swallowing blood. The thud of flesh hitting hard dirt confirmed what the leader had feared; Hajime was dead.

Ichiro let loose a bone-chilling scream of rage-filled sorrow as he failed to catch his older brother's falling form. The emotional trauma slowed his movements, his limbs feeling strangely leaden. Everything seemed lagged like in a dream; and maybe it was a dream he half-hoped, the flame of denial burning in his conscience. Reality just to much to handle in that awful moment.

It wasn't a dream though, the slick crimson liquid spurting from his brother's ripped-out jugular with each slowing pulse of his heart was just to hot, wet, and real to ignore. Hajime's mouth was agape trying to breathe or scream, Ichiro couldn't tell which. His usually confident brown eyes were wide with panic and pain, the light in them dying out like a flame flickering in a strong wind. He was drowning in his own blood the red-headed boy realized, appalled his own brother would die in such a way. His brother, his only living relative, his…hero. "Brother, I'm so sorry." Ichiro didn't know what to say in that profound moment, his own voice betraying his weakness with squeaky uncertain syllables. He didn't get a another chance to say what he wanted, not that Hajime could hear him through the encroaching blackness. His body gave one last shudder before completely going limp.

With sweaty shaking hands Ichiro closed those darkened eyes forever, he would never see those eyes open again, never see them fill with pride for his little brother's hard-earned achievements. He was gone, the only person he had left to live for was dead. The finality of the word hit him hard, the last remnant of his sanity snapping like a dried twig.

"Run Ichiro…" He barely heard the soft whisper through his fog of crazed loathing and deep-hearted sorrow. He thought maybe it had been his brother come back from the dead to warn him, disheartened he realized it was only Koji. Koji, the one who had brought them into this ghastly, bloody mess, the one inadvertently responsible for his brother's untimely demise; what a coward and to think he had held Koji in the highest respect second only to his brother.

"How dare you--" He began his voice cracking with the strain of grief, hot tears burning streaks down his young face. "How dare you tell me to run from my brother's murderer!" He stood suddenly his light-brown eyes, blood-shot and watery, staring with open hate at the cat-like girl her wild pink hair shadowing her ever-smirking face. "She will die!"

Sakura watched the boy, no older than herself, charge with reckless abandon his emotions obviously overpowering his common sense; if he even had any. Fool, whispered Nekomata enjoying the dramatic display of tragedy--Sakura less so but her disdain withstanding of the child killers despite her goodly conscience objecting to their destined punishment.

In the sanguine dusk he appeared to be some valiant warrior rushing towards his enemies like in the books she used to cherish and read so fervently, but in reality this Ichiro--as they had called him--was nothing more than the grief-stricken sibling of a spineless killer who was about to be dealt out her woeful wrath.

'Hope is the rejection of what is, a person who clings to hope will be destroyed by their own stupidity and helplessness.'

He was hoping she realized, he was hoping he would have the power to destroy her. Even as the red-head ran towards her so obviously overmatched he was hoping by some miracle he could summon the strength to fight her and actually win. Hope truly was denial, fruitless and dangerous. What Nekomata had said was true, it was all so very, very true; the events unfolding before her was all the proof she needed.

Sakura's cruelly-clawed hands seized the boy's scrawny neck before he could utter another annoyingly-cliché line of vengeance. He gasped struggling to breathe in her vise-like grip, she squeezed relishing the way the blood pulsed and moved beneath the vulnerable flesh of his throat. "Let…m…me go." The words tumbled out in a choked manner almost undecipherable.

Violet-glowing eyes mad with glee stared into his bitterly-defiant brown ones, reminding her so much of herself when one of the Akatsuki would corner her and…She shook herself of those gruesome memories immediately; this was not the time or the place to be nostalgic. Her anger broiled and unconsciously her hold tightened causing his alarmed eyes to bulge with the powerful exertion. His body temperature was rapidly dropping from being in her deathly-cold proximity; shaking and jerking uncontrollably. Hypothermia would soon set in, the blood that been rushing through his veins moments before was now freezing and slowing down. She remembered what the demon-cat had warned her about death being like a blizzard, turning everything in its decaying path to ice. It appeared she was now immune to the polar temperatures, or was it her heart had already turned to ice?

"Your brother was a craven fool, he deserved what fate dealt out to him. And now you will also be dealt such a fate." The voices of an angel and a demon melded together in such a harmonious fashion must have caught the dying boy by surprise, but he could no longer show it. His jaw was clenched together, his face forever in a stubborn expression of denial, the muscles frozen in place. Breath no longer entered his hardened lungs, life no longer lit his earth-colored eyes. The flame had been extinguished; he was dead. With a chakra-strengthened hand she shattered the corpse into a thousand multi-colored pieces, watching as they scattered across the dusty road.

Koji had stood through the whole execution of his young friend in mute horror, to terrified of the abomination before him to even begin to run away, help, or move. He felt the temperature descend uncomfortably as she stalked towards him, her other-wise pretty face contorted in maniacal mirth, eyes aglow with sadistic glee. What was she? Never had he faced such a demonic power before and in a small child of all things! He was beginning to shiver whether from the frigid chill or apprehension of her approach he didn't know, and if he had to guess he would say both. The child-monster didn't say a word and for that he was partly grateful for he had heard her speaking with Ichiro, and he had no desire to ever hear such a dreadful sound as that again.

She began forming quick hand-signs, muttering under her fogging breath. He was glad he didn't recognize the jutsu he was sure it was going to be painful enough without anticipating it. Her bright purple eyes were trained on him the entire time wanting to see his dying expression, he attempted to make his face blank as to not give her the grim satisfaction and failed miserably--the gravity of the situation overbearing any thoughts of being brave or bold. Then it came, the last hand-sign was made and an icy-hot sharp pain shot through his body, lucky for him he died instantly.

Sakura closed her eyes feeling the spray of blood sear her skin with its hot-wetness, disgusting yet utterly delicious. Nekomata appeased for the moment with the complete and total slaughter let his bloodlust within her die, the feeling being replaced by a numb-emptiness. The demon-cat's glacial aura withdrew deep within herself back into its cage where it belonged. Her now sea-green eyes traveled upwards clearly seeing in the darkening gloom what normal eyes could not, the body of Koji raised above her about fifteen feet impaled by a column of ice. His visage twisted in a strange expression of wretched agony and peace only death could produce.

Would she ever be able to feel that kind of peace? Probably not, Nekomata was a powerful being with ties to the Death God of all things. He needed her alive in order to survive himself, their life strings were forcefully tied together in a tangled knot she didn't think she would ever be capable of untying.

She sunk to her knees, not having the strength to stand on her own two feet any longer from the long, miserable week of running, hiding, and fighting. With preternatural eyes she stared blankly at the carnage she had wreaked upon the dishonorable trio of murderers, feeling no remorse of her violent actions despite her kicking and screaming conscience; the only part left in her that really was sane, the only part that was compassionate anymore. And once that was gone, she thought what would be left?

A monster…

An insane, conniving monstrosity of a beast, devouring anything and anyone in its destructive path. A being of darkness and death striving only to satisfy that maddening craving for blood, a slave to its own savage lusts--never satisfied, always wanting. In that moment of enlightenment Sakura vowed she would never become like the thing residing inside her, she would save her soul even if it meant ending her life.

Nekomata you said you would never be anyone's slave, but you are. I will never become like you, I will find what it is that is worth living for and I will protect it no matter what the cost.

Her boldly outspoken thoughts were only met with mocking, bestial laughter ringing deep from her mind causing a shiver to run the length of her spine.

O but Sakura you already are just like me…

--

A/N: I wanted to mention that some scenes may seem frivolous but they do have a point, and will be used later. Also the Akatsuki scene was just for humor and to let people know that Deidara's part in the story is not done, and he will be coming back later. Thank you for reading. J