Disclaimer : NARUTO doesn't belong to me!
Chapter 2
I retired to my quarters after the long day. As for the unpredictable freak, I sent him to the creepy dungeons together with the remains of those who once defied us. As I watch the setting sun surrounded by the crimson sky, I wondered if the scarlet silks that chained me to this condemnation will ever be unlatched. The velvet of the night shrouded the last rays of the day and I descended my internally damned body to my haven, trying to dream off the anxiety of my existence.
My mother entered my coven without me noticing it. She looked at me with those sharp piercing eyes, as if unearthing my gore.
"Why didn't you kill him?" her voice was husked, straight and undefiable. Sometimes I wonder, will I ever be like her – strong, bold, firm, and all the qualities of a good leader. But, a failure as a mother. I don't blame her though, for we are meant to be this way.
"I don't know." These hallow and void utterance came out of my mouth without my prior consent. She casted a long and cold gaze upon me, as if disbelieving every syllable of my reason, as if etching to my soul that she didn't believe a word. I tried to return her unfaltering stare but failed. Instead, my eyes landed upon a blade, whose edge still exude glamour in spite the bloody history behind it. Unconsciously, I had been examining every detail of the magnificent weapon. But, every single perfection of it had failed to register in my mind. My thoughts still wander back to the battle, to the coliseum, to that impertinent moron.
The silence had devoured my entire haven, and I had just realized that mother had left me alone with my thoughts again. Sometimes, I wonder if she didn't give a damn about me at all. All of our conversations start and end in this grotesque manner. Neither one of us have anything much to say anyway. This detached closeness is something that I was literally bred into.
My thoughts paced back and forth as if mocking me of my indecisiveness. Why did I care if he didn't fight back? Why did I care of what his reasons are? Why didn't I dismember his head from the rest of his useless body? I can feel my blood convulsing beneath my skin. I can feel my sweat flooding my entire being. I can feel my own breath heavy with defiance. Confusion is, without a doubt, the most annoying psychological state.
Daybreak. The sun rose up to spread his redeeming light to the green fields below. I wasn't sleeping last night, so no usual nightmare haunted me. I can't decide on which is better – confused or disturbed. Either way, I despised both. I went straight to the dungeons to see my formidable jester. He was there, looking sluggish and pained. His body burdened and his skin torn. But the light in his eyes refused to die down. His eyes reflect the calmness, as well as the coldness of the deep waters. Those eyes were quite intriguing? What are they hiding? I sense a tinge of sorrow beyond those faded sapphires. But when he realized my presence, that angst chrome faded right away.
He eyed my every movement. And I felt irritated by it. I wished to end this tête-à-tête as soon a possible. I decided to pursue with my main objective, or else, I might not be able to control myself. That is, either I'd get lost to those gallant eyes or I'd make him loose every sense of dignity he's got left. Or so I thought….
"Why didn't you fight back?"
"……….."
"I just asked you a question, slave!"
Preview:
"L…i…v…e…"
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