Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Rated R for: Graphic violence, adult language, adult situations, and sexual content.
* * * * * *
Tora miraculously, within four hour's time, had managed to repair the kitchen completely, as well as bandage herself up and make dinner. Even her cloak had been washed. Kisame had, out of pity and awe, agreed to assist her in her chores, and ended up doing laundry. Tora had stashed a change of clothes in her ninja pack, and left Kisame to clean her old set of clothes. Blood had thoroughly soaked the pervious outfit.
"Tora-sama, your clothes are drying," Kisame said through Tora's bedroom door. The door creaked open, and the girl slipped out, now wearing her backup change of clothes. Kisame's eyes lit up at the garment, and a grin pulled at his thin lips.
"Oh, deal with it," Tora growled as she caught Kisame's lustful stare. A short black skirt with white slashes on the sides showed off Tora's long, thin, athletic legs, though she wore thigh-high leg warmers. A black halter top displayed her lean abdomen, and matching arm warmers graced her lithe arms. Her emerald necklace still hung between her breasts.
Though her beauty could not hide her wounds. She had managed to reduce the damage to her throat considerably, but the thin cuts still read "puppet" clear enough. Her bottom lip had swollen decently, and tiny cuts and bruises lingered on her back. Her legs were only slightly damages, the slits in the skin hidden by her leg warmers. All things considered, though, she did a wonderful job of masking her loss.
"I left dinner for you and Itachi on the counter in the kitchen. Feel free to eat whenever you wish," Tora said, waving a dismissive hand at Kisame.
"What? Aren't you going to eat?" Kisame asked, dumbstruck.
"You are thick, aren't you?" Tora purred fondly, running a long black nail across Kisame's cheek, tracing one of his gills. "I have business to attend to. I shouldn't be back tonight."
"Very well, Tora-sama. I'll let Itachi know," Kisame said dutifully.
"No need for that, Kisame-sama, he already knows," Tora replied vaguely, slipping off down the stairs and out the front door. Kisame watched her go from the window, wondering what she had meant by "he already knows".
* * * * * *
Tora silently slipped into the convenience store she had visited earlier, satisfied by what she saw. About seventeen people lingered in the aisles and behind to checkout registers. All eyes turned to her as she entered, a few gasps and whispers hanging in the air.
"Now, now, no need for rumors. Everyone, I have something I want to ask you. Your answers will decide the fate of this pitiful little village of yours." Hesitantly, the people gathered around Tora, keeping a safe distance from the murderous-looking girl.
"What do you want, girl?" asked one aging man, probably in his mid- sixties.
"I want to ask you- what do you think of me and my companions? All I want is an honest answer. Give me a satisfactory enough answer, and we will leave in peace. Answer wrongly and you all will die," Tora said calmly. Glances were exchanged, the nervous people growing anxious. "Tell me now, what do you honestly think of us?"
"Well, I think that you are respectable-looking youngsters, though odd," one woman, who looked to be about forty, said, stepping forward. "Isn't that right? This one here looks like a good, honest child." People around the circle nodded dumbly, murmuring assent and agreements.
"You pitiful fools," growled Tora, lowering her eyes to the floor. "How foolishly you think that I believe your answers."
"What? We were not lying, little one!" the woman shrieked angrily. "How dare you!"
"Silence, woman. You have willingly sealed your village's doom," Tora hissed, reaching behind her and drawing eight kunai, one in between each finger. "You will all die now." With a single throw, the eight blades flew through the air, killing two apiece. The blade would strike the first person's neck on the side, just close enough to the center to severe the main artery, and slip through the rest of the muscle and enter the person standing behind them's neck. It was a simple and easy slaughter, neat and smooth, and the last remaining woman cowered on the floor.
"What have you done?" screamed the woman, tears of fear streaking down her face. "Who are you!" Tora looked down at the cowering woman as pulled on the thin twine that the kunai in her hand were connected by. The string, the eight ends held perfectly in Tora's hand, sent the kunai flying back into Tora's grasp.
"I only exist to kill now, fool, for my past and my future," answered Tora, listening to the woman's shortened scream as a kunai plunged into her head.
Tora bent down, her kunai flashing madly as she hacked the body to pieces, blood flying through the air, staining the wooden floor and walls. The girl smiled as she reached into the disemboweled torso, her fingers disappearing into the severed muscles and reappearing with something clenched between them.
"This is what I live for now," Tora whispered to herself, humming that same song as when she fought Itachi. The heart felt hot and juicy in her palms, but Tora looked beyond the organ in her hands, she looked somewhere deep in her mind as tears watered her eyes and she squeezed the heart. The girl squeezed, and the heart splattered in her hands, and Tora watched in grim fascination as the gore ran through her fingers and dripped to the floor. The sight of death surrounding her stirred her blood...
It was killing time.
* * * * * *
In chapter twelve: Itachi's new puppet lost her cool, and the whole village is dead. But has anything changed in the household?
Rated R for: Graphic violence, adult language, adult situations, and sexual content.
* * * * * *
Tora miraculously, within four hour's time, had managed to repair the kitchen completely, as well as bandage herself up and make dinner. Even her cloak had been washed. Kisame had, out of pity and awe, agreed to assist her in her chores, and ended up doing laundry. Tora had stashed a change of clothes in her ninja pack, and left Kisame to clean her old set of clothes. Blood had thoroughly soaked the pervious outfit.
"Tora-sama, your clothes are drying," Kisame said through Tora's bedroom door. The door creaked open, and the girl slipped out, now wearing her backup change of clothes. Kisame's eyes lit up at the garment, and a grin pulled at his thin lips.
"Oh, deal with it," Tora growled as she caught Kisame's lustful stare. A short black skirt with white slashes on the sides showed off Tora's long, thin, athletic legs, though she wore thigh-high leg warmers. A black halter top displayed her lean abdomen, and matching arm warmers graced her lithe arms. Her emerald necklace still hung between her breasts.
Though her beauty could not hide her wounds. She had managed to reduce the damage to her throat considerably, but the thin cuts still read "puppet" clear enough. Her bottom lip had swollen decently, and tiny cuts and bruises lingered on her back. Her legs were only slightly damages, the slits in the skin hidden by her leg warmers. All things considered, though, she did a wonderful job of masking her loss.
"I left dinner for you and Itachi on the counter in the kitchen. Feel free to eat whenever you wish," Tora said, waving a dismissive hand at Kisame.
"What? Aren't you going to eat?" Kisame asked, dumbstruck.
"You are thick, aren't you?" Tora purred fondly, running a long black nail across Kisame's cheek, tracing one of his gills. "I have business to attend to. I shouldn't be back tonight."
"Very well, Tora-sama. I'll let Itachi know," Kisame said dutifully.
"No need for that, Kisame-sama, he already knows," Tora replied vaguely, slipping off down the stairs and out the front door. Kisame watched her go from the window, wondering what she had meant by "he already knows".
* * * * * *
Tora silently slipped into the convenience store she had visited earlier, satisfied by what she saw. About seventeen people lingered in the aisles and behind to checkout registers. All eyes turned to her as she entered, a few gasps and whispers hanging in the air.
"Now, now, no need for rumors. Everyone, I have something I want to ask you. Your answers will decide the fate of this pitiful little village of yours." Hesitantly, the people gathered around Tora, keeping a safe distance from the murderous-looking girl.
"What do you want, girl?" asked one aging man, probably in his mid- sixties.
"I want to ask you- what do you think of me and my companions? All I want is an honest answer. Give me a satisfactory enough answer, and we will leave in peace. Answer wrongly and you all will die," Tora said calmly. Glances were exchanged, the nervous people growing anxious. "Tell me now, what do you honestly think of us?"
"Well, I think that you are respectable-looking youngsters, though odd," one woman, who looked to be about forty, said, stepping forward. "Isn't that right? This one here looks like a good, honest child." People around the circle nodded dumbly, murmuring assent and agreements.
"You pitiful fools," growled Tora, lowering her eyes to the floor. "How foolishly you think that I believe your answers."
"What? We were not lying, little one!" the woman shrieked angrily. "How dare you!"
"Silence, woman. You have willingly sealed your village's doom," Tora hissed, reaching behind her and drawing eight kunai, one in between each finger. "You will all die now." With a single throw, the eight blades flew through the air, killing two apiece. The blade would strike the first person's neck on the side, just close enough to the center to severe the main artery, and slip through the rest of the muscle and enter the person standing behind them's neck. It was a simple and easy slaughter, neat and smooth, and the last remaining woman cowered on the floor.
"What have you done?" screamed the woman, tears of fear streaking down her face. "Who are you!" Tora looked down at the cowering woman as pulled on the thin twine that the kunai in her hand were connected by. The string, the eight ends held perfectly in Tora's hand, sent the kunai flying back into Tora's grasp.
"I only exist to kill now, fool, for my past and my future," answered Tora, listening to the woman's shortened scream as a kunai plunged into her head.
Tora bent down, her kunai flashing madly as she hacked the body to pieces, blood flying through the air, staining the wooden floor and walls. The girl smiled as she reached into the disemboweled torso, her fingers disappearing into the severed muscles and reappearing with something clenched between them.
"This is what I live for now," Tora whispered to herself, humming that same song as when she fought Itachi. The heart felt hot and juicy in her palms, but Tora looked beyond the organ in her hands, she looked somewhere deep in her mind as tears watered her eyes and she squeezed the heart. The girl squeezed, and the heart splattered in her hands, and Tora watched in grim fascination as the gore ran through her fingers and dripped to the floor. The sight of death surrounding her stirred her blood...
It was killing time.
* * * * * *
In chapter twelve: Itachi's new puppet lost her cool, and the whole village is dead. But has anything changed in the household?