This one is EVIL. Also, it insisted on being told in a "you" POV instead of "he". It's still Naruto, just using "you" instead. I think it works anyway. I hope it's not just me.
My beta for the last drabbles is the amazing and very thorough Windshades and I want you all to know that she rocks. -licks- I hope you stay with me a while longer, love.
When B-rank missions turn into S-rank, you don't pause and wonder about unnecessary stuff, like the dreams you keep having or the sudden inability to decide if your nighttime fantasies would be worse or better if you added your pissy, wiry teammate to your harem of pretty, curvy girls.
When "possible missing-nin using genjutsu to scare people into submission" turns into "slender, dark-haired, red-eyed, high-level missing-nin making people die of fright", you don't pause and swear at the bad intelligence report. You make sure to keep up with Sasuke. You watch his back. You don't lose sight of Kakashi-sensei and Sakura-chan, though -- ever. Bad things happen to people who lose sight of their team. Bad things happen to their team.
When you lose sight of them anyway, when even their scents disappear and it's suddenly dark, so dark -- you don't panic. This is a genjutsu user you're tracking. You can't panic. They're still out there. They're out there, and you are...
... in a cage.
You are in a cage and it's dark and eternities pass in loneliness -- no one comes to get you. No one cares. You don't care (or do you?) but you still hate it. No one comes. And that drip drip drip sound, driving you crazy. You want to rip off the bars, but nothing works. You are powerless, and it is the most awful thing to be.
No one comes, because they're outside getting on with their lives...
... their mission...
... no one comes, because they're dead. They're dead and fighting is pointless now, useless -- it's too late. You deserve to be here, in this cage. You deserve it. Deserve to see your teacher with his stolen eye gouged out and the girl you love broken on the ground and your rival-best friend torn apart, thrown away, last to join the pile of rotten bodies that all looked like him.
You should just stop screaming and accept it. You're worse than useless. There's a reason no one wants you around; there's a reason you deserve the cage.
You should. You're not going to.
What you're going to do is slaughter the person who killed them -- locked you in. The person who took away what was yours.
You could slip out between the bars of the cage -- you break it instead. Splinter it in a million shards of shrapnel. You've wanted to do that for so long.
You open your eyes and snarl. You forget that you own weapons. You don't need them. Your hands (your claws) are all the weapons you will ever need.
You track him down and you don't bother to dodge. Nothing he does can hurt you (more than what he already did, what he already took, your freedom, your team). You can hurt him.
You do it.
With hands and claws. With teeth.
There's something strangely soothing in clamping your jaws down on the prey's throat, feeling his pulse flutter wildly under your tongue, and then -- tearing.
Blood splattering your face, your enemy in his death throes underneath you. It is a victory. You are free.
... they're still dead though -- they're still dead and gone and nothing's going to change that, nothing, oh god, you want them back, you want them, you want them. You'd even accept the cage again if they could come and visit you sometimes, but there's no compromise with death -- you plunge a claw-tipped hand in his ribs, tear out his heart, (you're not crying). He is not going to get the chance to compromise; you'll make sure of that. You take him apart.
You reduce him to a messy pile of meat and organs and broken bones. (you're not crying)
And then she's here. She's here and she smells like salt and stomach acid; it should be disgusting. You blink up at her. She's pale, grimacing. She's alive.
She lets you cling to her, even with the blood all over. (now you cry.) She rocks you; she's humming something you've never heard before and you wonder if that's what a lullaby is. She sounds shaky; you don't care. She's warm.
Your teacher and your best friend don't say anything. You feel stupid for falling for it, for trusting them so little. Your best friend looks more like your worst rival right now. There's not a lot left of the body.
You cringe, even though you're not really sorry.
It isn't Itachi.
You think that it should be wrong to feel so relieved, with a man's blood on your hands -- your arms, up to your elbows -- with bits of his flesh still between your teeth. It should be wrong to be relieved that you killed (devoured) the wrong sociopath.
It isn't Itachi.
The world slides back into its proper place. Sasuke calls you a moron. Sakura-chan grimaces and berates you for getting her clothes dirty. Kakashi-sensei sighs and promises lessons in breaking out of genjutsu, lessons he admits he should have given you years ago.
You make yourself throw up; even though you're anything but disgusted by the taste of human meat, you know you should be.
On the way back, Sasuke is... different. Silent, but not really pissy. Colder than that. Remote. He stares at you. He wants to hear that you won't steal his prey, when the time comes. That you won't get in the middle -- even if his brother kills him.
You won't lie to him. You say you'll try; this is all you will give. (you don't say anything about how hard.)
(you are not letting go. ever.)
Next up, some Naruto and Sakura cuteness. And after that, a fox dream, and then I'll be done. :dances: