title: judas
disclaimer: disclaimed.
notice: this story is going to be placed on hiatus. i haven't been in a naruto mood lately and i think sections of this chapter show that. i will edit this, and revise it more when i feel i can do it better, but until then, enjoy this to the best of your ability. please review!
n1:also, note. this is a slight naruto/hell girl crossover. i didn't tag it hell girl since there are no direct references to it. i hope that solves a few questions.
.
.
.
.
.
/#hecheated on me./ 'page 96 sensei? of course, my apologies, no-nothing's wrong.'/ she wanted him to just leave her alone-get out of her life./ he liked girls in red-no it was pink-no, now it was yellow. it had to be yellow./ 'oh jesus, jesus, please-it wasn't him...can't we take it back?'/
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
fuck- i was the wrongest of us all. Oh, fuck, don't even start-you don't know the cravings to mind fuck a girl- to have that power to make people sob shit over you.
I wasn't Jesus damn it, can't I just be Judas-
didn't we learn from him?
Condemnation by others is fucked up- let me fuckin' do it myself. I didn't need you to tell me what I did was wrong; I knew it was wrong-but I did it anyway and hell, since all of you are coming with me, I'd replay it all and do it again.
.
.
.
iii.JUDAS
.
.
.
She was back outside and the sky was no longer clear. Her book was in her palms and her eyes were grazing over it, but she wasn't really reading it. Her brain couldn't link meaning to the printed word in front of her; it wouldn't even recognize its importance.
Sakura really didn't care.
She sat there; she had been sitting there for seconds-minutes-hours already, but still she sat there, staring listlessly at the book's pages-
until he came.
His feet cracked the dead skeletons of leaves that still littered the concrete and that was all she saw as he approached her. The tips of his black shoes and the hems of his jeans. They could've belonged to anyone, but Sakura knew better. She knew that they belonged to him.
Just like she hoped to belong.
Sasuke didn't sit beside her; he just stood there with his hands in his pockets and looked down on her, his dark eyes unreadable and emotionless. The throbs of her heart deepened- she didn't know if she wanted to cry or if she just wanted him like she had had him just the day before.
Her eyes trailed up his form, green irises grazing over black, black, black and blacker man above her and she dug her white teeth into the pink skin of her lips just waiting for him to speak.
But he didn't.
She could feel it inside her; the anger, the sorrow, regret, dismay, and anger again- she could feel it festering within her bones, the aching to run and to hide, but the desire to purge herself of his touch, his influence and his love. Sakura knew it now; Karin had been far from living a lie- she'd been the correct one.
Their relationship was never going to last long- it was too late to say that it would forever be always.
He didn't speak, but he didn't have too. She knew what he was going say to her and she could feel what he wanted to say to her [though, it wasn't much and it wasn't pretty] and she didn't want him to say a word to her.
Sakura got her wish.
Sasuke's heels turned away leaving her downcast eyes to watch his shoes crack leaves on the ground as he left her there on the cement ledge, shivering and alone. The wind continued to blow, sending Sasuke-crushed leaves into her hair as it pushed strands of her pink hair to and fro.
[Kind of like what Sasuke used to do to her heart.]
She walked in no clear direction, her feet just moved and the rest of her body followed them as they trekked through parts of town, passing shops and cafes. Sakura saw her reflection in the windows of dress shops that were plentiful in the area, pausing as she saw the dress she had wanted to buy for Sasuke.
He loved red.
[Lies. He'd scorned both shades of red offered to him-crimson and pink. No, he must love yellow. Bright sunshine-y yellow.]
It was pulled off the rack, the last of the red dresses gone for good and she turned away as she saw it reach a blonde's hands. Sakura turned away from the store, her feet leading her off again, moving her in the direction of a small café. Sakura's eyes dropped; this was where she and he used to go when they felt like leaving campus for a change.
Her heart caught in her throat, catching sight of two heads in the back booth- their back booth. Two heads, one black the other blonde, both with foreheads tilted towards one another, the blonde laughing softly as their [oh, why even bother-her] companion looked away with a roll of his eyes.
Fogging glass disrupted her line of sight, Sakura's eyes noticing the rapid expansion of cloudy air on the once clear windowpanes and her hand came up to her heart, going first to her chest, before moving up to her throat.
Her feet picked up again, running off into the nearest alleyway with five fingers placed at the nape of her neck; Sakura needed darkness, she needed a place where she could cry out her collapsing heart out. A slight whimper escaped her lips as she hit the brick of the walls behind her. Five fingers still pressed into her skin leaving five purple bruises that she wished could cover all of her body.
At least she'd focus on that pain instead of this pain.
She threw her bag to the wall opposite of her, hearing a crack-snap-shatter that was oddly satisfying to hear and was more than content to leave it there [she could move on, quit college, drink too much and fuck enough], but from the edge of her eye, she saw something.
Bristles of brown tied with string.
Sakura's teeth clamped down on her lips, pupils darting to the left, right, to the right before moving to doll, her hands shaking as she reached out for it. It pricked her finger and she jerked her appendage back, still chewing on her lips as she examined the doll. She had questions-yes she did- but she pushed those to the back of her mind, running her fingers over the doll still, her skin getting caught in the rough straws.
The string rolled through two fingers, the red fabric teasing Sakura's own growing anger and jealousy.
[it wasn't like she was good enough for him, so why should she save him?]
A ding came from outside the alley, two sets of laughter following, and Sakura just couldn't. Their laughter- she knew it was them, it had to be them. It was them- shoved her heart deeper into her throat, lodging it there and choking her away.
Sakura couldn't breathe-
and she couldn't think either.
She lost her way for a fraction of a second, but that was all it took- for once it had passed and she came to her senses, the string and the doll were no longer connected. The skin on her chest- it began to burn with the brand that had been placed on her skin [the brand she had inflicted upon herself in her rage, her brand]- before cooling and leaving the black mark of Hell tattooed on her collar.
Sakura was a condemned woman now, but then again, so was Sasuke. She would rot, but he'd be there first. They could burn together, but she'd get the last laugh because he'd be burnt first.
[And it wasn't really her fault was it? If he hadn't cheated, then it'd be okay. ]
She'd get away with it.
She had too. She'd sold her soul to send him straight into the hands of Satan and nothing in this world could track her for that. Only God that that power, and well, he'd already caught her.
And he'd marked her for it.
Thinking these thoughts, she took a breath and stepped out of the alley, mentally preparing a false face of compassion and empathy to give to her former best friend about the immediate disappearance and probable [absolute] death of her [ex] boyfriend.
Oh Ino, this is for you too.
Her feet stopped on their journey, not seeing anyone on the sidewalk, except for the blonde before, the blonde and the black haired boy.
Sakura's choking stopped and her bright confidence at getting away with murder-well-earned paled alongside her face as the man turned around to be the eldest Uchiha.
Itachi.