.o30 Blood
Their bodies were covered in it, her hands were covered in it, and his sword was covered in it. A ruby red liquid that felt like iron smelted water in which pumped from fragile veins and arteries. Chartreuse pools were wide, and breath wobbling with hands in front of the shivering medic's form, with the dark form looking overhead, brows knitted together and hawk like eyes glittering at her, sizing the girl up. She almost saved them, her teacher, her friends, and almost family but the girl wasn't there in time instead her fingers were slicing apart the tendons of the blue haired woman with heavy eye make up as he used that freakish warp to fly across the battle field playing with Kakashi and Naruto as if they were rag dolls. The supposed leader was no use; a quick explosion of ink animals decapitated him though he put up a far worse fight then his 'partner' with all of those bodies and summons. The last, breathing member of the Akatsuki versus her the last of a platoon of elite ninja it was irony. Some one with the hands to steal life from others and her hands with the ability to bring life, squaring off in a battle, The epitome of good versus evil. The swish of his clothes, and the muddle slosh of his boot, the man now officially the last Uchiha stepped toward her, eyes cruelly bewitching the pinkette with abnormal comas in the red dye sequence.
Her body was frozen, the guilt crushing down upon her, all that blood staining her hands. This was the blood of her friends and the blood of her enemies. The girl couldn't fight him, not on minimal chakra all used form healing now dead patients and fighting a woman who had the emotional range of an amoeba. Sakura was hoping he'd get it over with and just cut her head cleanly from those grime infested shoulders instead the tip of the blade swayed in front of her face and a soft 'heh' perched on his lips. Rich tones of old Konoha aristocracy purred from the criminal's throat. Soon the blade was lifted form the girl's peripherals and the sound of a cloth was heard, wiping away the history of its battle. Those vibrant eyes now dulling considerable at the loss of her comrades never strayed form those outstretched, cupped hands stained with the texture of blood. A gloved pair of fingers pinched her delicate chin and hoisted her face to look at the dark, if not brooking visage that all Uchiha's had. Sakura thought vaguely that they were all blessed by god or what ever to have those striking features yet deadly talents.
A sudden fear for her life over came her as those eyes betrayed that very notion, rousing amusement from those pools forever locked in the ultimate doujutsu.