Cold rage bubbled in his chest. Broken heartache rang through his soul. No one cared. No one listened. No one observed. Not Shikamaru-sensei, not Taio and most certainly not the Hatake bitch. He hated her above all. She was kind and just and helpful and secretive and powerful. She danced around shuriken like she was born to and aimed with an Uchiha's precision. Her abilities were beyond anything he'd ever be able to compare to.

Somewhere deep in his heart, the hidden part that spoke sense to him, he knew that Nakasha was everything he wanted to be. She was the model image of his life goal. She had already walked his entire life's path before she joined the Academy. He hated her for it. He hated her for the strength she possessed that he lacked. He hated her for her adult mindset and childish joy. He hated seeing her playfully grapple with Taio and let the boy win, despite knowing many ANBU techniques that could easily throw the boy off. He hated the way her silver hair glinted the colour of blood in the dawn and dusk, like a paintbrush dipped in the reddest of reds, a dripping crimson.

He wanted to take away her stoic happiness and cheeky eye-smiles. He wanted her strong will to bend to him. He wanted to make the leader in her follow him. He wanted her dominant personality to submit to him. He wanted to take her ability and strip her of it. He wanted her control to slip into helplessness. He wanted her fearlessness to quail.

He hated her. Inside his heart, the small beacon of light slowly being overwhelmed by his darkness, he knew he loved her. He wanted her because she was everything he was not. He wanted her protection, to be nurtured the same way she did Taio. He wanted, craved, even, to have her laugh because of him. He wanted her to need him the same way he tried to resist needing her.

Oh, he hated her.

{|}

"Daimo!"

Resentment swelled inside of him at her voice, but the paralyzing realization of his approaching death overpowered it. He needed her right now. He needed her to save him, like she always did. He'd hate her later for it, he knew he would. He'd curse his weakness and rage that he would have rather died. He knew, however, that he was always a bad liar. Faced with death now, the blade coming down to cut his head in half, he was so afraid, so small: he knew he didn't want to die. He wanted to live to best the bitch that would save his life. He wanted to be the one to best her, to dominate her, then to love her and protect her.

Sparks skittered over her bracer as her cropped, gravity-defying white hair blocked his vision. Taio's Terra Crumble jutsu made the man fall, most likely to his death, but that didn't stop the sparks. They danced across her forearm until the man disappeared completely.

Nakasha panted, her hands coming up to cup her left eye with a hoarse cry of pain. Over her shoulder, Daimo watched as she pulled her hand back, the crimson liquid glistening on her moonlit, porcelain hand.

"My eye . . ." She mumbled, staring on in horror. "My eye . . ."

"Where are you guys?! Answer me!" Shikamaru-sensei burst out of the brush, instantly freezing. It was then that the rest of Team Shikamaru could see exactly what happened.

In the small meadow, the moon cast down a pure white light. Nakasha stood in the middle of it all, the spiked tips of her hair, so alike to the moon above, dipped in the same dark liquid that coated her hand. Blood flowed freely through the slash on the left side of her face, right through her eye.

She didn't cry. She just shook. She trembled, her whole being quaking. Her resolve was faltering, they could tell. This moment would make or break her character. Her pale lips parted and she managed a smile, though it was still vibrating with the wearing adrenaline and shock.

"I know I look like my dad," She said slowly, her form so jittery that it looked like she would fall to her knees any second. "but this is a little far, huh?"

Of all the things for her to say, none of them had ever expected that. She took an unsteady step forward, thin limbs slowly regaining their composure. She looked down at her hand one last time before reaching up to her hitai-ite. Gingerly, she pulled it down over her eye, pulling the knot in the back tighter.

"The mission's complete." She said softly, but authority had returned to her voice. Her steps were on solid legs and her arms were still. She laughed, sounding like she'd been punched in the stomach. "I don't suppose any of you have a self-sacrificing Uchiha on hand, do you?"

"Nakasha . . ." Shikamaru-sensei finally managed to get out, his voice as rough as sandpaper.

"Let's get back. I need to have this treated before it gets an infection." She said flippantly, adjusting her clothing. "C'mon. I'll lead."

He never hated her more than in that moment.