Prompt: Bloody Stay
Title: Two Broken People
Genre: Angst and General.
Warnings: This one-shot contains violence and is also extremely dark.
Summary: She is everything he ever wanted to be and yet he has no choice. She has to die.
A/n: I can't say 'enjoy this piece' as that would be rather odd. I would say 'I hope you don't' but again, that would be rather odd. Thank you for reading my work. For those of you, who have reviewed, I am very grateful for the feedback. –Z.z
He hated her with all of his being.
He let the chunk of pink hair fall from his gasp. She was before him, chained to the wall with blood pouring from her skull. She had to look at him in the eyes to create the most absolute genjutsus, although it wasn't required. But eye contact also was psychological factor that was in his favor. Although to get her to look at him required some effort on his part. The entire floor was pretty much covered in her blood and hair, which he learned yanking earned him more of a reaction then slamming her around.
It wasn't like he had a choice though. And that lack of choice made him angry. That was why he hated her; because of her, he had no choice. Not only that, she could and would ruin everything he'd built.
Pein had captured her to heal his eyes because the 'leader' couldn't afford him to be blind. After all, he was a brilliant, genius assassin who used gen-justus, which required sight to prefect even though he was doing just fine. If he wasn't the one to interrogate her into submissiveness, the task would have been given to another. Eventually they would break her, because they all broke. But when she did, she would realize the state of his body; she had to die before she found out. He had to be the one to do it, because if not the result would not be pleasing.
It was needless to say, but he hated killing one of his own, someone from the only place he'd ever called home. There wasn't an option though. Letting her escape was letting the rest of the missing-nins know he was still a loyalist. Letting her see the state of his lungs and heart wasn't an option either. She would say something to the others. She would then heal him. His little brother wouldn't be able to defeat him then.
The defiance in her eyes was already draining. Her body was beyond repair, blackened and gashed. Her mind… He feared what he'd done to her mind. Never before had he used a focused gen-jutsu so many times on one person. Nothing could be done for her though. He could not destroy the ruse he had created, not when he was so close to achieving his goal. His brother would be a hero, achieving vengeance for the death of the clan. And Itachi would die the villain, but happy that his brother was the one to defeat him. His brother was almost ready; his brother had to be ready, because he was dying and no healer was going to stop that.
He was going to make sure of it.
She met his eyes, no longer trying to prevent the inevitable. Another chunk of her hair would litter the floor if she tried any resistance. Her screams bounced off the walls of the small brick cell deep in the underground base. It seemed to him, his entire life had been surrounded by nothing but blood curdling cries. It was ok though. It meant the screams were just background noises now.
He used to feel guilty, back when he was younger and more naïve. Then after two years of being a missing-nin something inside of him changed. For the worse or for the better, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that it kept him alive. It had ridden him of the burden he carried.
Now he was apathetic. Forgiveness was past him. Guilt was past him. He was just doing what had to be done for his sake and his brother's. His brother was nearing insanity with power; an insane hero wasn't his objective. But soon it would all come to an end. Having the girl would just increase his brother's anger and power; in the end it would work out for the better. That he knew for certain.
Even though the boy had tried to distance himself from his genin team to gain power, there was still the connection. It would have been better for her to be something his brother returned to after destroying him; but there was no helping it now.
The Kyuubi and his brother would be alright without her. The only thing that would be missed would be her medical skills. There were always more medics. She was just too replaceable. If she wasn't, he would have to think of a way to save her.
He didn't have too. She was going to die. She wasn't going to interfere. He hated what he did but it had to be done. It was best to not let her suffer anymore, or give her a chance to submit. Today would be her last.
With a quick hand sign her consciousness was back and she sagged against her chains.
He cleared his throat and like a beaten, submissive dog she raised her head. One of her eyes wouldn't open the other was half focused, somewhat staring at him, somewhat not. Soon her suffering would be over. It was her fault really. It was her fault she chose to be a shinobi. She could have remained as a civilian and no harm would have come to her. He tried not to harm the innocent at all costs. But by taking up the shinobi code she had forfeited her innocence for a tainted pathway.
She wasn't like him. He hadn't had a choice. He hates that about her too. The life she chose was the life he never wanted. Why? He didn't want to know. Questions made bonds, bonds made things harder to complete a job; it made it harder to kill people. He could live without knowing.
His job was murdering. He couldn't ask. He wanted to ask. He wouldn't ask. It was best she died now.
He extended it to her, her end; a tiny pill in the palm of his hand.
"Mercy, oh grand Uchiha?" She spat, blood, at him. Defiance flickered in her dulling green eyes.
The sarcasm. It was funny. It was a sad last act. When there was no option for rebutting with anything physical she'd chosen sarcasm. Just sarcasm. There was no accusation of him being a monster. There was no plead or thankfulness for offering generosity to her state. She hadn't sold out the Kyubi's location or any other Konoha secret.
The woman before him was a true Konoha shinobi. He hated that too because he once was a Konoha shinobi , but that was before he had to choose between being a good man and joining his clan, before he'd been given the order to eliminate them all.
He wanted to know what she was thinking. Out of all of his victims, his hundreds of thousands of victims, she was one of five that had used sarcasm. "I'm surprised you don't call me a monster," after all; that was the usual nickname.
Her swollen jaw moved slightly as she tried to smile, "There is no reason for me to tell you what you are. You already know."
He nodded to her. Yes, she was correct. That was what he was in the world's terms. That was what he was to her, for what he'd done. The sad thing was it wasn't what he ever wanted to become. There had never been another option.
Even though she was his opponent; he had to respect her. She hadn't pointed out the obvious. But respect would not save her. If she did not take the pill; then he would just kill her another way, a more painful way, a more monstrous way.
His eyes started to spin and his world became even blurrier. He would finish her with his Tsukuyomi.
Her bloody cries became something far more inhumane inside of his red and black world. But it was only a second before the body sagged; lost in the torturous ravine he'd left her in.
He picked up her chin with one of his hands; he inspected the damage he'd done, memorizing every detail.
He leaned over her and kissed her bloody skull. He straightened up and ran his tongue across his lips. It tasted different than his blood; the taste of iron was much stronger.
With a sigh he backed away and took in the scene. Hair, blood, a couple of teeth rested upon the floor. Drips of blood dropped silently in puddles at her feet. He committed it all to memory. He kneeled and picked up her headband, it had been the first thing he'd removed. He'd slammed it upon the ground, with more force than he should have used. He'd lost an ounce of control. Just an ounce...
He began bending the metal back into its original form, being careful and precise. When he was done, he swiped off the blood splatter on the metal. He rose and walked over to the quiet body. He tied the headband back on while trying not to disturb the wound.
His hand brushed over the unslashed, indented sign.
She was one of the very few that hadn't broken mentally under his interrogation. He'd even gone past the harshness he usually used. He closed his eyes; still seeing the room and woman in detail.
"Sakura Haruno," He murmured quietly, his voice pronouncing the name with a slight awkwardness. He memorized the way the two words sounded.
If she didn't wake up, which she wouldn't, then Kisame would be given the task of finishing her off. He would not see the broken body again. That was why he kept memories.
He opened his eyes then turned and left the room.