Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Rated PG-13 for: Violence, adult language, adult situations, and suggestive content. Rating is expected to rise in later installments.
* * * * * *
Tora silently chopped up bits of chicken for dinner, not daring to even glance at the silent teammate that sat at the dinner table, watching her intensely. Something almost like shame plagued her mind- the very fact that she had let herself reminisce and be vulnerable filled her with guilt. A sage-nin, no- a member of the Akatsuki terrorist group should not show weakness or emotion for even a moment, let alone allow themselves to be vulnerable to attack. It was shameful.
"You are strangely quiet today, Tora-chan," Itachi mused aloud. He felt considerably more attracted to his teammate ever since he had inflicted his binding blood jutsu, even taking the time of day to watch her habits. "I wonder whatever is wrong."
"I apologize if I have worried you, Itachi-sama," said Tora blankly, her words even lacking their usual life and honor. "I am preparing dinner for you and Kisame-sama at this time, it is expected to be ready in about an hour." Tora lifelessly turned her attention back to her meal; the knife in her hands rising and falling quickly and seamlessly as the meat beneath its blows was practically shredded.
Tora suddenly, reflexes like lighting, swept her hand up to her shoulder, taking firm hold of the other hand that lingered over it. Itachi pallid fingers did not even brush her hair before she grabbed them and using that hold, Tora managed to twist the arm severely. With a low growl, she ducked and sent the teenage boy spinning over her, his weight crashing into the stove loudly and messily.
Itachi hadn't seen any of that coming. Over the course of the past two days, he had come to realize that Tora would allow him to touch her out of respect. She had never acted against him. Now, suddenly, she had gone on the offensive, and he had paid dearly for it- a foot-long gash now ran deep down his back, product of a broken piece of stray metal from the broken stove. With a growl, he leapt up drew a kunai.
Tora didn't know what had possessed her to attack her leader, the one she had followed so dutifully since her initiation into the Akatsuki. She sighed and surrendered, seeking forgiveness for her actions.
Itachi, having already gone into his attack, sent a high kick into Tora's chin and swung around swiftly, delivering another blow to her stomach. The girl limply flew back, hitting the wall squarely and sliding to the floor. The delicate and fragile healing of the cut on her neck was again knocked loose. Itachi didn't wait, though; a blind rage that had made him the strongest of the Akatsuki took over him. He dashed over to Tora and grabbed her by the collar, hauling her featherweight body up and pinning her against the wall.
"You attacked me," he hissed angrily, pulling her about two inches from the wall then forcefully slamming her back into it. Continuously, he slammed her back and forth, until suddenly one of her hands shot up and grabbed his wrist painfully tight. Sharp black nails dug into Itachi's white skin, drawing the faintest droplets of blood from his veins.
"Put me down," she growled, her face still looking towards the floor, not giving Itachi any view of her eyes. So many painful memories had flooded her mind, Itachi's cruel punishment unwillingly pulling experiences Tora had hoped to forget from the blackest bowels of her mind.
Evilly, her hand twisted Itachi's wrist, forcing him to release her. Immediately, she sent her foot flying upwards, hitting Itachi squarely in the chin, the material of her dark blue sandals scraping the skin as they struck. Itachi reeled back, watching in insane rage as Tora let herself slide to the floor. The kitchen table crashed to the floor with Tora as she fell. He took the opportunity, seeing only red as he went.
His blows were painful and agonizing beyond all nightmares for Tora- her half-open eyes could only see blood as his kunai slashed at her throat once, twice, countless times as he brutally carved the symbol for 'puppet' into her flesh. Once he was finished, he smiled sickly and gently ran his fingers over the raw skin, holding his hand in front of his face as he watched the little drops of blood trickle down the crevices in his white skin.
"A puppet does not attack its master," the boy said darkly and cruelly, walking out of the kitchen silently, leaving Tora's bloodied body lying where it had fallen. But the assailant stopped in his tracks when he heard a small voice singing.
"Looking at the moon isn't quite the same. since the day you left." Tora whispered, her normally husky and strong voice now breathy and soft, though still beautiful. "You said you loved me and we laughed. I pray you won't forget." The song had a haunting melody to it, the quiet hush in the room growing deeper with every note Tora hit. Itachi, though he had never cared for lullabies and foolish rhymes, found himself wondering the story behind the girl's words. Suddenly Tora coughed, blood trickling from the edges of her mouth, and she let her words fall silent. Her lips moved, but the sound wouldn't come.
Itachi silently passed by Kisame as the shark man walked to the kitchen, investigating the damage left by Tora and Itachi's fight. Their eyes met, and nothing was said between them. Itachi swept up the stairs to his bedroom.
"Holy shit," Kisame muttered, stepping over the wreckage in the kitchen. Tora's body lay still in a heap on the floor, and Kisame knelt down to see if she was dead. He gently swept the tousled hair from her face, immediately wishing that he hadn't.
He green eyes had turned almost black, still and unmoving in their sockets. Spattered blood from her neck and mouth dotted and dripped down her face in a twisting little dance, spoiling the perfect skin. Kisame scuttled backwards, the vast amount of blood on her neck assuring her death. Still, he had to take the body and bury it somewhere. He reached out to grab the girl's still arm, but instead felt his hand being slapped away and suddenly staring straight into Tora's darkened eyes, the color slowly draining back into them.
"Damn it, I'm alive, Kisame-sama," Tora hissed, more blood dripping from her lips. "Don't bury me yet." Kisame stumbled back, a look of utter disgust etched onto his features. Tora smiled weakly and staggered up, looking herself over. "Shit, I have to clean up the kitchen and make dinner," she mumbled, unpinning her cloak and handing it to Kisame. "Help a poor girl out and put that in the laundry room, it needs to be washed." Kisame dumbly nodded and dashed out of the room, leaving the bleeding girl to her own devices.
* * * * * *
In chapter eleven: Tora's troubles just seem to deepen as she goes on a raging killing spree.
Rated PG-13 for: Violence, adult language, adult situations, and suggestive content. Rating is expected to rise in later installments.
* * * * * *
Tora silently chopped up bits of chicken for dinner, not daring to even glance at the silent teammate that sat at the dinner table, watching her intensely. Something almost like shame plagued her mind- the very fact that she had let herself reminisce and be vulnerable filled her with guilt. A sage-nin, no- a member of the Akatsuki terrorist group should not show weakness or emotion for even a moment, let alone allow themselves to be vulnerable to attack. It was shameful.
"You are strangely quiet today, Tora-chan," Itachi mused aloud. He felt considerably more attracted to his teammate ever since he had inflicted his binding blood jutsu, even taking the time of day to watch her habits. "I wonder whatever is wrong."
"I apologize if I have worried you, Itachi-sama," said Tora blankly, her words even lacking their usual life and honor. "I am preparing dinner for you and Kisame-sama at this time, it is expected to be ready in about an hour." Tora lifelessly turned her attention back to her meal; the knife in her hands rising and falling quickly and seamlessly as the meat beneath its blows was practically shredded.
Tora suddenly, reflexes like lighting, swept her hand up to her shoulder, taking firm hold of the other hand that lingered over it. Itachi pallid fingers did not even brush her hair before she grabbed them and using that hold, Tora managed to twist the arm severely. With a low growl, she ducked and sent the teenage boy spinning over her, his weight crashing into the stove loudly and messily.
Itachi hadn't seen any of that coming. Over the course of the past two days, he had come to realize that Tora would allow him to touch her out of respect. She had never acted against him. Now, suddenly, she had gone on the offensive, and he had paid dearly for it- a foot-long gash now ran deep down his back, product of a broken piece of stray metal from the broken stove. With a growl, he leapt up drew a kunai.
Tora didn't know what had possessed her to attack her leader, the one she had followed so dutifully since her initiation into the Akatsuki. She sighed and surrendered, seeking forgiveness for her actions.
Itachi, having already gone into his attack, sent a high kick into Tora's chin and swung around swiftly, delivering another blow to her stomach. The girl limply flew back, hitting the wall squarely and sliding to the floor. The delicate and fragile healing of the cut on her neck was again knocked loose. Itachi didn't wait, though; a blind rage that had made him the strongest of the Akatsuki took over him. He dashed over to Tora and grabbed her by the collar, hauling her featherweight body up and pinning her against the wall.
"You attacked me," he hissed angrily, pulling her about two inches from the wall then forcefully slamming her back into it. Continuously, he slammed her back and forth, until suddenly one of her hands shot up and grabbed his wrist painfully tight. Sharp black nails dug into Itachi's white skin, drawing the faintest droplets of blood from his veins.
"Put me down," she growled, her face still looking towards the floor, not giving Itachi any view of her eyes. So many painful memories had flooded her mind, Itachi's cruel punishment unwillingly pulling experiences Tora had hoped to forget from the blackest bowels of her mind.
Evilly, her hand twisted Itachi's wrist, forcing him to release her. Immediately, she sent her foot flying upwards, hitting Itachi squarely in the chin, the material of her dark blue sandals scraping the skin as they struck. Itachi reeled back, watching in insane rage as Tora let herself slide to the floor. The kitchen table crashed to the floor with Tora as she fell. He took the opportunity, seeing only red as he went.
His blows were painful and agonizing beyond all nightmares for Tora- her half-open eyes could only see blood as his kunai slashed at her throat once, twice, countless times as he brutally carved the symbol for 'puppet' into her flesh. Once he was finished, he smiled sickly and gently ran his fingers over the raw skin, holding his hand in front of his face as he watched the little drops of blood trickle down the crevices in his white skin.
"A puppet does not attack its master," the boy said darkly and cruelly, walking out of the kitchen silently, leaving Tora's bloodied body lying where it had fallen. But the assailant stopped in his tracks when he heard a small voice singing.
"Looking at the moon isn't quite the same. since the day you left." Tora whispered, her normally husky and strong voice now breathy and soft, though still beautiful. "You said you loved me and we laughed. I pray you won't forget." The song had a haunting melody to it, the quiet hush in the room growing deeper with every note Tora hit. Itachi, though he had never cared for lullabies and foolish rhymes, found himself wondering the story behind the girl's words. Suddenly Tora coughed, blood trickling from the edges of her mouth, and she let her words fall silent. Her lips moved, but the sound wouldn't come.
Itachi silently passed by Kisame as the shark man walked to the kitchen, investigating the damage left by Tora and Itachi's fight. Their eyes met, and nothing was said between them. Itachi swept up the stairs to his bedroom.
"Holy shit," Kisame muttered, stepping over the wreckage in the kitchen. Tora's body lay still in a heap on the floor, and Kisame knelt down to see if she was dead. He gently swept the tousled hair from her face, immediately wishing that he hadn't.
He green eyes had turned almost black, still and unmoving in their sockets. Spattered blood from her neck and mouth dotted and dripped down her face in a twisting little dance, spoiling the perfect skin. Kisame scuttled backwards, the vast amount of blood on her neck assuring her death. Still, he had to take the body and bury it somewhere. He reached out to grab the girl's still arm, but instead felt his hand being slapped away and suddenly staring straight into Tora's darkened eyes, the color slowly draining back into them.
"Damn it, I'm alive, Kisame-sama," Tora hissed, more blood dripping from her lips. "Don't bury me yet." Kisame stumbled back, a look of utter disgust etched onto his features. Tora smiled weakly and staggered up, looking herself over. "Shit, I have to clean up the kitchen and make dinner," she mumbled, unpinning her cloak and handing it to Kisame. "Help a poor girl out and put that in the laundry room, it needs to be washed." Kisame dumbly nodded and dashed out of the room, leaving the bleeding girl to her own devices.
* * * * * *
In chapter eleven: Tora's troubles just seem to deepen as she goes on a raging killing spree.