I do not own Naruto. Exciting news, we reached over 100 pages on the master doc!

Chapter 11

The Sword that Sung

Spring

Amaya screamed herself awake.

The dreams were always like this, the nightmares, really. They were the same, the same years condensed into one night. It was from the day of their deaths to the day Miyako died. It was the faces of her victims, the cries of her brothers and the screams of her mother. The nightmares were the chains around her neck slithering up and yanking until her heart stopped. They were the lingering hands of the men that drugged her and they were the shackles around her wrists and ankles. Her dreams were of Michi and her parents, the money in their hand as she was locked up and dragged away. They were the village she left and the men who took her and they were dreams of the drug she lusted after. Only this time, the mountain of the dead had a white-haired man with dulled red eyes staring directly at her.

Gasping for breath and having sweated through her sheets, she sat up shivered involuntarily. Her chest heaved as she gulped the air down and fought the sheets to the end of the bed, freeing her bare legs. Her throat felt raw from her shrieks through the night.

It was then she decided to stand and dress herself, pulling on some loose pants and a sweater, her heart still racing. She made her way out of the apartment, taking the sword leaning beside her bed as she did, holding it close to her chest. She was silent as she made her way out of the apartment complex, keeping away from the squeaking floorboards and slipping in between the door and the bell above it.

Running through the village, she was nothing more than a shadow in between the townhouses. Her footsteps were silent as she entered the forest, avoiding the sticks and leaves that would crunch under her foot. She felt no need to waste chakra to perform the silent step technique. As she shifted through the forest, she was nothing more than a blur spinning and ducking through trees, her footsteps light and unburdened. Bursting through the forest onto the open training field, she took in a sharp breath, the cool air filling her lungs.

With her feet numb and her body reacting to the chill by shivering violently, she paused and closed her eyes. Turning to face the forest she had just exited, the ominous breeze kissed her cheeks. The sheath to the katana fell at her feet, the sword gleaming in the low morning light.

When the assassin shifted her foot, the blade was nothing more than a flash of silver as she cut up, the katana shining like the sunlight that wasn't there, as if it could cut through the clouds themselves. Her other foot shifted now, slowly turning and blade moved sideways, only a glint as it sliced through the air, and she knew it could cut through the sea as well. She flicked her wrist diagonal to the left and the blade whistled by, the shrill sound of wings that made her heart ache. She swung left, soundless, nothing more than her pounding heart.

The pattern repeated once more: up, right, diagonal, left, up, right, diagonal, left. She continued, sweat dripping down her forehead and stinging at her eyes and the movements became smooth. The sword glinted in the low light of the morning, not even the first rays of the sun visible. Up, right, diagonal, left. She quickened her pace, her feet shuffling against the slippery snow. Up, right, diagonal, left. Her slices became desperate and angry, her katana wavered as she paused for only a moment, her silver gaze reflecting the steel. Up, right, diagonal, left. Radiance, sea, wings, soundless. Her sword quickened to only glimpses of glinting steel.

Her movements were full of rage, furious slices of hatred and resentment. Up, right, diagonal, left. She was a raving, malevolent storm; a being of hatred and destruction and her weapon a bitter reminder of the past. Up, right, diagonal, left. Her movements grieved for her, her steps well placed and sure and her swings wailed like dying boys. Radiance, sea, wings, soundless. Up, right, diagonal, left. It was a song of fear and chaos, her movements so rash and sharp that they resembled a battle itself. Haruki, Kaiko, Tsubasa, Kiyoshi. Up, right, diagonal, left. Radiance, sea, wings, soundless.

"Hey."

She stumbled, her feet slipping in the snow and swung the blade around towards the voice, stopping herself at the last moment. Her blade nicked Tobirama's neck, a thin trickle of blood staining his white shirt, the red blooming out once it hit the fabric. He held his hands up, in the unmistakable sign of surrender as he raised a curious eyebrow, oblivious to the pain. She breathed heavily as she stared, finally recognizing him and dropped the tip of her sword, letting it sink into the snow at her feet.

"You seem a little uptight," He observed slowly, giving her a careful once over, as if looking for any wounds, and brushed away the blood that began to pool in his collarbone. She was only a millimeter away from slicing his artery and adding more to her list of the dead. Her breath quickened.

She looked around at the damage she gave, the trees around her either already fallen or about to crash to the ground, branches scratched and hanging with only a sliver of wood. Her sword still shone proudly in the dim light, through the mist of the morning.

"Yeah, seems so," she breathed out, barely more than a whisper and the sun began to rise, warm lights arching into the sky and she launched forward, pressing her lips against his.

Up, right, diagonal, left.

She sat besides Tobirama, itchy dry sweat on her back and her hair pulled back to the top of her head, waves falling down to tickle right where she wanted to scratch. Her katana rested besides her, the leather hilt resting against her thigh. Its presence both comforted her, and terrified her. Cool hands pressed against Tobirama's neck, her fingers shaking only slightly as she sunk the needle into his skin.

He hissed flinching away from the pain and flicked his eyes to her. She met his gaze and raised her hand to place her finger under his jaw and pull slightly forward. She smirked slightly as he complied and leaned closer before lifting his head so his skin stretched out for her. He felt her warm breath against his bare chest, her other hand holding onto his shoulder to steady herself. Her soft grey eyes were narrowed with concentration and she passed her upper teeth over her bottom lip every so often, causing his blood to burn.

The sun was still rising outside and the arcs of light were splashed across her cheekbones, shadowing every arch of her face. She threaded the needle back into his skin, pulling lightly and ignoring his mutter of pain and continued, avoiding the artery that pulsed with his lifeline. His death was in her hands, just one wrong move and she would hold his lifeless corpse in her arms. Her fear steadied her hand and as she finished up, looping the thread through his tough skin a few more times before knotting the end, she only breathed out.

Glancing up at him, worrying her lips with her fingers, she gave him a frustrated look. He replied it with a raise of his eyebrows, his lips pulling into a grin he couldn't hide. She huffed out, straightening and pulling her hair free from the loose knot at the back of her head.

"Really Tobirama," She huffed loudly and gave him a small grin. "You have to at least pretend that you have an inkling of self-preservation."

"Says the assassin who doesn't even have a pocket for basic medical supplies. I think you want to bleed out on the battlefield."

She replied with a look of mock surprise. "Is that sass I sense, Senju?" She stood suddenly, grabbing the sword mechanically before it could clatter to the ground. She met his gaze, grinning wolfishly before turning away. "I'll be back soon, I'll purchase us both some supplies. Happy?"

Lunging forward, he clasped his hand around her waist and pulled her to him, the grip on her sword loosening. With her hand still worrying at her lips, she gave him a confused look. He stared at her fingers as they pause on her lips and his hand raised up.

"Enough of that," he murmured as he brushed her fingers away and they fell to her side. She blinked as he leaned in, his lips touching hers lightly, before sneaking his tongue past and pulled her harshly against him. She fought against his lips, nipping at him and let her hand glide up to bury themselves in his hair and pressed up against him, which he replied with pressure of his own.

She slipped out of his arms and grinned at him, only slightly breathless and her hair mussed. Her eyes were bright and wild and her smile made his heart pound even more. He wanted to kiss her for forever, to sit inside his apartment and joke about the horrors of the world they weren't facing at that moment and banter about insignificant things.

"I'll be right back," she turned out the door and shot back another grin, "with breakfast." Then she disappeared out the door, the tip of her sheathed katana the last to slip out the door and padded slowly through the hallway of his apartment.

Tobirama lived right outside the open trader's square in a second floor luxurious apartment building. He had a full kitchen with all of Konoha's newest appliances and a full bath. His bed was a four-poster one and his living area with open and filled with natural lighting by the many windows. Her jealously crawled up her throat but she said nothing to the admittedly spoiled son of a warlord.

There were four other residents in his building, all of which were Senju-born and highly regarded ninja. They had serviced the Hokage well enough to ensure a living quarter close to the main clan and also close enough to him to warrant only a minute run's away. In emergencies, they could receive word and go to his side at once.

As Amaya walked through the halls to the stairs, she felt all of them pin their chakra on her and probe the strange energy. She leaked out only a slight amount of her reserves, not enough to worry Tobirama or enough to threaten the men watching her. It was to acknowledge those that were watching her, that she too was watching them.

The chakra from the other inhabitants of the building receded and Amaya skipped out of the building, her pocket jingling with enough change to only buy the white-haired man some supplies. Even if she bartered down the prices, she had no plans to buy her own kit. If the world desired to take her, she would let it. Her grip on her sword tightened.

The markets were busy that day, bustling full of civilians and shinobi alike, though it was obvious by the elegance and grace of the pedestrians in the square that most were well-practiced in taijutsu. It was difficult not to see the way the men and women moved around each other in harmony, careful not to knock into anyone else. They too noticed her, her sword especially.

It was the assassin in her that saw the threats, and with a sick feeling she knew her father would be proud in the way she had automatically found the weak spots of everyone she met eyes with. The man with the strange tattoo over his left eye favored his right ankle and the sight in his left eye was worse than that of his right. If she threw two kunai at the perfect angles and then ducked under and smashed in his ankle with the hilt of her sword, he would be unable to put up a fight before her katana could slice his head clean off and sing the song that she was so familiar with.

Her head began to pound as she imagined how the spray of blood that would erupt from him would cover the infant in the carriage walking down the other way with it's mother.

The woman that was examining the fresh fruit imported from the neighboring land was younger, and she smelled of ninjutsu. She would put up more of a fight but if Amaya attacked from her left and stabbed through, the woman would dodge but the assassin could take out the fruit seller then swing around and slice off the woman's arm. Her sword was sharp enough that it could slice through the body and wind would split for it. With the woman injured, she would be a slower and easier target. Slow enough to stab through with her katana and yank upwards, gutting the woman.

The world spun and the assassin gasped, reaching for her sword and squeezing it's hilt, to prove that it was there. To prove what had happened.

Amaya tightened her mouth and dug her nails into her palm, focusing on the path ahead of her. She knew of a cheap shinobi medic shop on the other side of the market, hidden between some residential suites. In the few months Amaya had spent inside Konoha, most of it was spent exploring due to the mind-numbing boredom she had dealt with. If she skipped through the alley between the barbecue joint and the cloth store, she could appear on the street right next to one she needed to be on.

The man who looked at her with concern but then continued on his path was bigger than her and was probably all muscle. He would be slower because of this, but would take more power to cut through his dark skin. If she sliced his achilles tendons with two kunai, he wouldn't be able to walk or stand anymore. When he fell, she could dart forward and disconnect his brain stem with her katana, instantly killing him.

Stumbling on ahead, she slipped between the two stores and hopped over the garbage dumps. Her katana was tucked in the discret sheath underneath her sweater and she held her breath as she scaled the wall. She flexed her chakra as she let go of the walls and straightened to walk upright, keeping her feet stuck onto the bricks. Her chakra failed for only a moment, along with her vision that disappeared for one entire second, but she caught hold of a protruding edge of the brick before she fell inside the dumpster.

She pushed away from the walls, taking a few quick steps to balance herself as she landed and sighed once she had cleared the trash. She swallowed and paused, leaning against the walls as her breath left her. Her palms were shaking and bloody from where the edge of the stone had cut her palm open. The sudden irony scent shocked her but she was reminded of the weight of the blade on her back as she shifted.

"Amaya."

She almost screamed. She hadn't sensed the man come up behind her, and she definitely should have, especially in the cramped space. Her hands were shaking too much for her to reach around to unsheathe her sword. Turning slowly, she found that the black spots in her vision were growing larger. A pair of burning red eyes met hers until everything went to darkness. And with dread pooling in her stomach, she realized they weren't Tobirama's eyes.

"Fuck…" the assassin groaned as she pushed herself into a sitting position, her head pounding and her throat dry. She was in an unfamiliar room with pristine white sheets with an open window and an goddam annoying shithead bird chirping outside. She pushed the sheets away, finding that she was fully clothed besides her sandals. Looking around, she found them tucked underneath the bed. Her katana rested on the table and she lethargically swept her feet off the bed to rest on the cold floor.

Shit, her head was pounding. Dehydration, if she had to guess. Probably exhaustion as her sleep had been plagued by nightmares recently. Stress, due to the nightmares and exhaustion and the fucking thoughts that had haunted her. She centered herself, taking a few deep breaths that filled her lungs. Dammit, Amaya, why did you let yourself go? If only her father saw her now. He would have told her what he had growled to his sons countless times: take care of your health above all. If you falter in a mission because you haven't slept, you're already dead. The assassin dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand. Her heart dropped as she thought of her father and she whirled around until she caught the familiar sight of her katana. Finally, she could breath again.

Okay. Okay. Assess the damage.

She wasn't in any pain, and she had been left all of her weapons, a sign of trust. She wasn't being held against her will. Her hand shook as she reached out for her weapon and when she touched the worn leather hilt there were dry tears in her eyes. The window was open, allowing her to easily escape if she so desired, another sign that she could leave whenever she wished. It smelled of Konoha, and she got the distinct impression it hadn't been more than a few hours since she passed out.

Standing took more effort than she would have liked, and her legs shook like those of a newborn deer. Pathetic. She would have to do better in the future. Never allow herself to get into situations like these ever again. She had had enough of those in her lifetime. She wrapped her arms around her sword.

It was a crash outside her door that made her fall back into bed, and the roar of a very angry Senju. The door burst open and she flinched back despite herself. Tobirama stood in the doorway, an angry and passionate force. She had trouble keeping his gaze as he stared down at her. Lifting her head, she forced herself to swallow. He took a few small steps forward, his eyes examining her carefully before kneeling at her bedside, raising his hand to her forehead. He glanced at her, taking in every single wrinkle of her thick sweater and pants.

"Are you alright?" He murmured to her, and she taken aback by the concern that laced his voice. Her took ahold of his sword and slightly shook it so she would let it go. He placed it on the bed.

Her tongue was so thick and dry that she had trouble responding. "Fine," she croaked, her eyes fluttering shut at the cool touch of his hands. "Where am I?" She raised her hands and found that they were shaking terribly.

"You fell unconscious, into my arms, Amaya."

Tobirama's eyes darkened at the voice and his lips curled back in distaste. Amaya lifted her head and met the now black eyes of Madara Uchiha and dropped her hands into her lap. He stood in the doorway, a massive being that exuded danger and smelt of suffocating chakra.

"Oh, thank you, Madara. I'm sorry for this," her voice wavered as she addressed the man, her grey eyes watery and red but with her chin lifted. She smiled at the man who had shown kindness to her multiple times, despite the way he appeared in public. He had to keep his profile exact, had to be a force that could never waver in the defense of his people.

She glanced between the Senju and the Uchiha, noticing the vivid tension between the two men. It went farther than the hesitance of the peace treaty, but a real feud between two men.

Tobirama stiffened at her casual addressing of the Uchiha Clan head, and his eyes narrowed dangerously. The assassin glanced at him for less than a moment before returning her attention back to the Uchiha clan head. He nodded and took a full step into the room, and it felt as if he was taking up the entire space. Amaya only blinked as his chakra suddenly engulfed her, pooling into the ground then climbing up the walls.

Another reason why others looked at their treaty with aversion. Madara's sheer power met with Hashirama's brute force would shake the entire earth. Everyone alive would feel the rumblings of a new war, especially because the tremors of the last still left scars.

"I saw you going through the alley while you looked distressed," the man continued passively, "I believe I did not thank you for your acts towards my clansmen, and I had gone to find you."

Amaya smiled at him, an actual one that caused Tobirama to jut his jaw out slightly and curl his hands into fists. "I'm glad you did," she replied slowly, ignoring the way her head pounded with every breath she took and how Tobirama was shifting strangely at her bedside.

The Senju flicked her red eyes between the assassin and the man wearing red armor. The lavender-haired woman took a breath and brought herself to stand, Tobirama rising with her, keeping ahold of her hand but she kept her eyes on the Uchiha head.

The strain between the two men went back to childhood, when Tobirama had killed Madara's beloved younger brother. She had pity for both men, knowing that neither could have controlled what had happened. They were both children. Madara should never had to deal with his brother's death and Tobirama should never have killed a life before he was a man.

Madara nodded but Amaya continued, now her body completely shaking. Tobirama tightened his grip on her arm, almost imperceptibly keeping her standing on his own.

"My actions was what I would have done for any Leaf shinobi, there is no need to thank me," she replied, her throat feeling as if it was cracking with each word. "Especially because of what you have done for me."

Madara nodded, her face staying blank. "Still, we honor those who have aided us, despite no reason to. We can keep you until you are able to return to your home safely on your own, if you so wish."

Tobirama stiffened and snarled, a low-sounding growl that set Amaya's hairs at the back of her neck off. "There will be no need for that," he hissed quietly. "I will escort her home."

Madara fixed his attention at the brother of the Hokage, with a bored look adorning his features. "Ah, Tobirama."

He left it at that, and Amaya felt the white-haired man's anger rise to a terrifying level as Madara fixed his stare back on the assassin. "If you need anything, do not hesitate to contact me."

He gave a short bow to her, then turned around and walked away. He disappeared into the shadows as she smiled at him.

"Thank you, Madara," she called after him, her voice cracking horribly, and she leaned against Tobirama as a wave of dizziness overtook her. Her hand blindly reached out for her sword against the blankets of the bed.

"What was that about," He growled as he helped her to her feet but the woman did not answer his question. He took the sword and lightly placed in in her hands, noticing the way she appeared to calm down slightly with in in her grasp.

Ignoring the layout of the clan house, Tobirama led her through the many hallways of the house, into the busy sector. Uchiha residents stared at the duo curiously, their black eyes sweeping over both the Senju and the mysterious woman. Some of their eyes turned to red, swirling patterns that assessed the two of them, then blanched at the raw force of their chakra pumping through their veins.

They were silent as Tobirama, with a growl, flash stepped onto the roofs of the Uchiha Clan sector, still holding onto Amaya's arm. Her vision failed for another second and she collapsed but Tobirama simply swung her into his arms and glanced down at her. He glowered at her for a full three seconds, his red eyes were not like the sharingan. The color was completely different. The sharingan stabbed and gutted. They were violent eyes, angry and malignant. His eyes burned, a smolder that could fix onto anything. Eyes that turned onto her.

"Don't ever do that again," he growled suddenly, meeting her gaze. Once again, her breath was taken away by the fixation. She turned away, stiffening and biting her lip, holding her katana closer to her chest.

"I didn't really choose to faint, Senju," she muttered in reply, glaring at his feet.

Fainting of all things. Really, she should just tattoo 'pathetic' on her forehead. He growled and she turned to him, surprised. Before she could speak to him more, he was sprinting forward, faster than any words that could reach his ear and she wrapped her arms around him to stay in his hands. He stopped suddenly, above his apartment building and dropped in through the window, effortlessly avoiding the traps he set to his rooms.

She was breathless as he set her down on her bed and the assassin only swallowed for several long moments. He looked away, down at her knees met his hands on top of them.

"I don't trust them with you, Amaya," he snarled softly, his voice wavering quietly but the world thundered in her ears. Her breath caught again and her eyes widened, the grey soft.

Leaning forward slightly, she looked directly into his eyes and lifted a trembling hand to caress and cup his cheek. He was warm, startlingly so. She lifted her other hand to bury her fingers in his hair then let it trail down to his other cheek. She leaned forward more and met his lips, more of a tender brush than the angry, almost violent, kisses they had shared in the past. They parted and she raised a hand to his cheek.

"No one will ever take me away from you. I won't let them."

A/N: So, Amaya is slowly falling apart a bit and they're pretty possessive over each other….

Also PLEASE REVIEW! It means so much to me when I get the notification and it keeps me on task with this story.