A/N: Just a warning: there is a scene in this chapter involving animal death.
Chapter Nine
The Sound of a Hurricane
...
Sharing my heart, it's tearing me apart,
But I know I'd miss you, baby, if I left right now.
...
The rain was impossibly heavy tonight.
A perfectly manicured hand came to rest against the window, vibrations thrumming already shaking fingers. Honey eyes peered down somberly as another curtain of water cut down through the village below; they blinked quickly to dispel the moisture that lingered in their depths.
She sighed, a broken sound unfamiliar as it reached her ears. A crack of lightning sliced through the sky, illuminating the darkness that surrounded her. Her forehead came to rest against the glass, hoping the coolness there would soothe the angry throb that had taken up permanent residence behind her eyes. It didn't.
Resigned, she turned back toward her desk.
A rather innocuous scroll settled in the middle briefly caught her attention for the hundredth time that night, but she couldn't bring herself to touch it again. Instead, she focused her attention on the forgotten bottle that sat beside it. Her hands shook even as she picked it up, a silent prayer that it please, please, give her the strength that she seemed to have lost.
Even lifting it was proving to be a task almost too hard.
She didn't bother pouring its contents into the glass that sat nearby. Moderation wouldn't help her tonight. She took a long swig, relishing the familiar warmth as it flooded her chest; she took another.
Somewhere from beneath the door, where light tried to pour in through the gap between it and the floor, a dark shadow took up residence. The blonde Hokage had to resist the urge to scream at it, to tell it to just leave her alone. Her lips met the bottle again as that same light flooded the office.
"Lady Tsunade?" A concerned voice filtered through her alcohol-hazed brain. Another sigh shuddered from the blonde's lips.
"Come in, Shizune." All attempts to harden her voice to annoyance, or anything else that didn't betray the brokenness she felt, was lost. The dark-haired woman shut the door with a soft click before walking towards the desk, a sleeping pig clutched against her chest.
The Hokage readied herself for the scolding she was sure was coming her way but it never came. Instead, Shizune merely placed the pig down on the pet bed that sat next to the desk.
"Any more news on the blood sample that Kakashi's team found?" Despite her chest threatening to sink into the floor, Tsunade couldn't help the tinge of hope that rang in her voice.
"Not yet, milady," Shizune said, unable to hide her disappointment.
Tsunade ignored the sinking feeling that returned. It'd been a few days, and though she'd had every lab technician in Konoha running tests on that thing day and night since, nothing strange had surfaced. Nothing that could give them any clues, anyway. The only thing they could be certain for sure of was that it definitely wasn't Sakura's and that it was AB-positive.
That fact had been more interesting, to say the least, as AB blood types were extremely rare, with AB positive accounting for less than around two percent of all blood types. AB negative accounted for less than one. Unfortunately, there were still a fair amount of shinobi listed with AB-positive blood, so narrowing that list down had yet to reveal any results.
Tsunade sighed.
Shizune's gaze had fallen to the scroll sitting on the desk. She didn't speak but her dark eyes betrayed the worry and fear in their depths; a question she didn't dare to ask hung on her lips. Tsunade saved her the trouble.
"They want us to start the funeral preparations."
Tsunade's indignant voice cracked slightly, hand tightening on the bottle. If Shizune was surprised by this, she didn't show it, her shoulders slumping instead with an unseen weight. The raven-haired woman finally spoke then, softly, the pain she too was feeling leaking through her soft voice.
"What are you going to tell them?"
Tsunade scoffed. What could she tell them? Those old fuckers had only given her one other option. And the thought alone sunk her stomach into a deep pit, hand now gripping the bottle so tightly the glass creaked.
'Damn them.'
"They've given me no choice, Shizune. It's either that or..." The Hokage's voice trailed off, eyes coming to rest on that damn scroll once more.
Shizune tensed. "Or what?"
The words gathered in her throat, threatening to choke her. It was as if the mere passing through her lips would cement the decision she had yet to make. The decision she'd been unable to so far.
"Or what, Lady Tsunade?" Shizune keened, fist now clenched in her kimono. Tsunade sighed - again, she thought forlornly.
"The only other option would be to brand Sakura as a rogue shinobi."
Tsunade's voice was so quiet that she wasn't sure if the woman on the other side of her desk had heard her. The fist that collided with her desk, for the first time ever, wasn't her own.
"They can't be serious!"
The blonde woman turned her chair away from her fuming assistant. She'd never seen Shizune so angry, and she didn't have the strength - or the desire - to reprimand her assistant and long-time friend for such an outburst.
"They are. It's been two months, Shizune; they're convinced that if she were still alive or wanted to be found that she'd have been spotted by now." Tsunade's cold tone veiled the sorrow that threatened to pull her down into the depths of her own despair.
"You don't actually believe that, do you?" Shizune asked weakly.
"Of course I don't," The Hokage breathed out, peering into the darkened clouds beyond the water-drenched windows. She continued, "But they've given me no other alternatives. And they won't allow for another retrieval squad to be sent out. What else am I supposed to do?"
"Tell them to go fuck themselves...?"
Tsunade snapped back around, eyes wide. She didn't think she'd ever heard the prim woman say such a crude thing. A tense moment hung in the air, and for a second Shizune looked like she might faint, hand coming to clap over her mouth.
A joyous laugh burst from Tsunade's chest.
She couldn't- She just- Oh, Shizune!
The laughter had now reached riotous levels, bringing tears to the corners of her honey-colored eyes, stitching up her sides painfully. She doubled over, the sake bottle falling to the ground with a clink. The faint look on her friend's face immediately turned to one of concern, as the Hokage's body collapsed onto the desk, heaving.
"Lady Tsunade are you okay?!" Shizune was now beside her, hand on her shoulder.
"Ahh, oh gods-" The blonde gasped through stuttering breaths, unable to bring herself to sit back up, "Oh, Shizune..." She chuckled, "I just- I've never heard you speak like that before!" She managed to get out through shaking laughs.
Finally, the laughter died down in her chest and the tears that had collected in her eyes dripped slowly onto the desk. Shizune stood up, feeling just a modicum better now that Tsunade hadn't keeled over; it wasn't enough to overpower the sadness she felt at seeing her in this condition though.
"Well," The dark-haired woman started, hands fisting in her sleeves once more, a small chuckle breaking through her words, "They deserve it... I mean, the council's allowed for several retrieval missions for Sasuke, and he's never been officially branded rogue, even after all these years. I just don't see how they can think this is possibly fair!"
"In their eyes, Sasuke is... a special case. He's the last living Uchiha, and - in their expert opinion," Tsunade didn't try to hide the venom in her voice, murmuring into the wood, "is property of the village. Their desire to revive the Uchiha clan outweighs their desire to not have him out there, running amok."
'And dragging Konoha's name through the dirt...' She thought with a stab of anger.
Shizune bristled but she knew it was the truth. To let such a powerful weapon as the Sharingan merely slip through the council's hands was unthinkable to them. She huffed. Property of the village indeed.
"And Sakura is just an important asset to the village as Sasuke is, perhaps even more so. How can they just ignore that?"
"I know Sakura's an irreplaceable part of Konoha just as much as you, Shizune, but the council..." Tsunade clicked her nails on the desk and bit her cheek, anger filling her voice, "Those old bags assume that because Sakura isn't from some big, noble clan and lacks a kekkei genkei that she's not as important to waste the time on."
"But she's the best medic in the nations - next to you!" Shizune hissed, her own anger flaring back up to match the Hokage's.
Tsunade felt a stab of pride, not for herself or even for Sakura, but for the woman standing next to her. She knew it took Shizune a whole hell of a lot of guts to admit that Sakura was a better medic than she. Hell, Sakura would have even come to far outrank her in terms of all ninjutsu, not just medical, and Tsunade knew that for a fact.
'Would have...' The somber voice echoed in her head, threatening to shatter her resolve again. She shoved it far down.
"Yes and that was the very argument they refused to listen to. Those idiots don't understand just how special Sakura's chakra control is. They called it a 'regrettable loss', Shizune." Tsunade's voice dropped, cracking just the slightest, "They called her a regrettable loss."
Tears filled Shizune's eyes and fell, her response coming out choked, "B-but, milady...the baby-"
A new pang of hurt stabbed at the Godaime's chest. Yes...the baby...
"Before she was taken," Tsunade ground out through her teeth. Because that was what had happened, and those fools knew it. Sakura would never betray her village. Never. To suggest otherwise was a blight upon her name. A blight that, Tsunade would never allow as long as she breathed in this forsaken world. "Sakura had decided to put it up for adoption. As far as they're concerned that child is no more a part of Konoha than they want Sakura to be."
"...this isn't fair."
"I know."
"I take it you haven't told Naruto or Kakashi any of this."
Oh, now that pounding behind her eyes was really back. And with a great vengeance. The blonde brought a glowing hand up to her head, speaking only after the most severe throbbing had subsided.
"No, Shizune, I haven't." Tsunade had to repress yet another sigh.
"Naruto is never going to stand for this, surely they realize that."
Tsunade's hand clasped in front of her chin, voice steeling, "They want him grounded."
"Grounded? For what?!"
"If Naruto intervenes or tries to go after Sakura, they will have him confined to the village. No training missions, no field missions, and certainly no retrieval missions. Their words, not mine. Danzo will strap a group of Root to him so fast it'll make all of our heads spin. He said so himself." Her fingernails dug deep into her palms at the thought of that pretentious old asshole. If not for him, she might have been able to at least attempt to sway Homura and Koharu to listen to reason, but no. Danzo's word meant more than the damn Hokage's apparently.
'Danzo... It's always Danzo.' She thought bitterly, fingernails now drawing blood from her palms, 'That rat bastard.'
"Root? He wouldn't-"
"Oh, he would, Shizune. He's done far worse for less, the son-of-a-bitch..."
Shizune moved towards the window. Onyx eyes peering out into the relentless downpour for several minutes before she spoke again, her voice sounding very far away, "So what do we do now, milady?"
"We do what we have to," Tsunade could feel Shizune shift as she looked at her, the slight catch in her breathing not missed by the blonde at the desk, "on paper at the very least."
Tsunade stood, a trail of clicks and pops springing from her back, "Shizune?"
"Yes, Lady Tsunade?"
"Fetch me another bottle of sake, and get my good ink. Officially, I have a death certificate to write up."
"Of course, milady." Shizune strode toward the door, but stopped within a few steps, turning back to her long-time friend and boss, "And...unofficially ma'am?"
Tsunade couldn't help that slight smile that crept across her lips, despite every attempt to keep it hidden. What would she do unofficially?
Unofficially, she would never stop searching for Sakura.
Unofficially, she'd fight those stuffy old council bastards with every drop of blood, sweat, and tears in her body. Even if they snatched her title from beneath her, even if they had her killed, she'd never let them win. Too much was at stake.
Unofficially, she'd not rest until her apprentice and her unborn child were found and back home, in the safety of Konoha, where they belonged.
Unofficially, she had another mission to assign, one that was none of their business.
"Unofficially, Shizune, we will find Sakura. I know she's out there somewhere, alive, and we will bring her home." Tsunade's voice shook, but this time not with sorrow. This time the tremble came from the fire that had been lit beneath her. So yes, officially, Haruno Sakura was dead, but quite unofficially she would be home very soon.
"Get me every Bingo book, new and old, that we have. Fetch Tenzou and tell him I need to speak with him at once. Send for Shikamaru's team immediately. And we need to figure out how to get in contact with Jiraiya, he owes me one and it's time he made good on it."
Shizune's bright smile wasn't missed even in the dark, moonlit office. And Tsunade felt that little glimmer of hope spreading back up her chest, as she met the brunette's smile briefly with one of her own before her Hokage mask slipped back into place. Honey eyes hardened with steel, and her voice turned resolute.
"Well!? What are you just standing there for, Shizune? You have your orders, now go!"
Shizune's smile fell and was replaced with a resolute look of her own, "H-Hai, right away Lady Tsunade!" She all but yelled and stumbled out the door, almost slamming it shut.
Tsunade turned her face towards the cloud congested sky once more and through the downpour, the lightning and the thunder that threatened to drown them all, watched as a sliver of the moon peaked through the clouds. A solemn vow formed in her heart, in a place that time had forgotten and sake had drowned out through the years. A vow that she'd see through until the very end. No matter the cost.
'Don't worry, kid, we'll have you back home soon. Hang in there just a little bit longer for me, okay? We're gonna find you, you hear me? You're coming home, Sakura.'
...
Sakura had been four years old when she experienced death for the first time.
It had been a lovely day; a cerulean blue sky sparkling with warm sun and filled with the fluffiest clouds she had ever seen. Her tiny hand was wrapped in her father's larger one, as they walked through the forest right outside of the village. In her other hand, she carried a basket, full of little wildflowers and berries that she had picked on their walk. That was the day he showed her how to throw a shuriken for the very first time, and she'd been so excited to learn.
There was nothing she'd wanted more in the world than to become a shinobi like her Papa. To be brave and noble and strong and not cry when she fell and scraped her knee. Papa scraped his knees all of the time and she would ask him, while he cleaned the gashes - much worse than any of the scrapes she'd ever gotten - why he wasn't crying. Doesn't that hurt, Papa? It looks like it hurts. Will Mama kiss it better like she does with me? It hurt so badly when she did it, the tears usually welling up in her eyes even before she'd made contact with the ground.
And sometimes, Papa got hurt much worse than that, sometimes there was blood. Sometimes there was a lot. But Papa never cried, he would just sit still at the kitchen table with his big, beaming smile as Mama pulled senbon or shuriken out of his back. He never winced and never made a sound. He would just keep on smiling that same beaming, sheepish smile, even though Mama would fuss at him again for being careless.
Sakura would do anything to be strong like him and to make him proud.
So when he came home one day and asked her if she'd like to learn how to throw a shuriken, she'd been so ecstatic she couldn't even manage to put her shoes on correctly. And she was very good at her putting her shoes on too, and had been for years. So when she'd come bounding down the halls like it was Christmas morning, shoes on the wrong feet, Papa had laughed loudly and picked her up.
'Whoa there, blossom. You gotta learn to be patient.'
Sakura nodded eagerly as he fixed her shoes, with the most serious look on her face that her chubby cheeks could muster. She was met with a boisterous laugh as he finished strapping her sandals and put his hand on her head, ruffling her hair.
'That's an excellent war face, blossom. I bet even Lord Fourth wouldn't be able to stand up to the likes of you!'
His good-natured teasing had flown directly over her head and she perked up at what she thought had been a direct assessment of her abilities. Papa thought she was strong! So as she picked up that first shuriken, planted her feet as Papa had taught her, and threw it at the target she was determined to not let him down.
And she had been devastated when she'd missed.
Hesitantly she looked up at him, fear and disappointment on her young face, tears threatening to spill over her cheeks. She'd expected to see that same disappointment staring back down at her; all she had found was love and pride beaming in his eyes. He dropped down to one knee and pulled her into his chest.
'You did so great, blossom! With just a little practice, you'll be the strongest kunoichi the nations have ever seen.'
She couldn't understand. She had missed. She hadn't even gotten close and had missed the target by several feet. Even so, he was proud of her anyways. She nuzzled into his big chest, a new fire in her big shining eyes as she pulled away. She knew she could do this! Papa had said she could be a strong - No! - the strongest, kunoichi in the nations, and he was never wrong.
It took her almost a dozen tries until she'd finally landed her mark, just on the edge of the target board. The shuriken barely hung on from its spot in the wood, and for a second she felt a little bubble of pride in her chest. Papa's strong arms swooped her up and he squeezed her tight, peppering her little face with kisses as she giggled.
After that, they called it a day and started making their way back towards the village, Sakura picking her flowers and berries slowly as she ambled along. Her father followed closely behind, hands resting behind his head as they enjoyed the birdsong and crickets that signaled dusk.
An anguished whimper caught Sakura's ears and she came to a stop on the dirt road suddenly. Her eyes darted all around until they fell on the source of the pained cries and she gasped at the sight before her.
There was so much blood, more of it than Sakura had ever seen before, more than what she'd ever seen on Papa. It spread across the ground over the little rock outcropping like a crimson lake, a soft breeze causing it to ripple softly, and there in the center lay two wolves.
The biggest one wasn't moving, wasn't breathing, with grey and white fur matted down in red, missing in patches where huge, angry hunks of skin had been ripped into. Its throat had been torn out, a mangled mess of flesh and blood, and something sticky and white that Sakura had never seen before, hanging from its neck. Its glassy eyes were gauzed over and open, with a distant stare that seemed to peer off into nothing
The smaller one - so tiny, really - lay huddled near the other's belly and was making a weak sound. It was a pitiful little whine that gurgled toward the end and Sakura could see, with her own shock-filled eyes, that its throat had also been partially torn into. Its breaths were ragged and though its voice was heavy with pain, the little cries were growing weaker by the second. A steady stream of blood poured from its open throat wound.
Both of Sakura's little hands flew to her face in horror and with a strangled sound of horror, she ran towards it. No rational thought crossed her brain as she tried to get to it, to try and help, to try and do something.
She didn't get very far, her sandals skidding in the blood for just a moment, as she was lifted up and turned around, big arms squeezing her tightly.
'No, Sakura.'
She panicked then, struggling to get down, yelling through her frantic tears at Papa to do something, do anything, please Papa, it's just a baby, please.
He merely tightened his arms around and pulled his head back to peer into her horror-stricken eyes. He kept her head pinned between his hands, forcing her trembling face to look only at him.
'Listen to me, blossom, okay? Are you listening to me? There's a good girl. I need you to do me a favor, okay? No, don't turn away, listen. Now. I want you to go over near those trees and stay over there until I come to get you. Sakura, listen. Go over there and stay and cover your ears. Don't come out until I come to get you. Can you do that for Papa? There's my girl.'
He put her down and despite the urge she felt to disobey him, she ran over toward the trees like he'd told her to. She didn't want to not listen and she knew, she knew, that he was going to help that poor little puppy. So, like the good girl she wanted to be, she did as he said. Almost. A little frog jumped near her legs and while she had been trying to catch it she'd forgotten to cover her ears.
It was quick and over in less than a second, but the dying wail had her running back towards the outcropping, and she was screaming for him, frantically shouting as she watched him pull his blood-covered hands from the baby wolf's neck.
It made no more sounds after that.
He wiped his hands clean and slowly walked back toward her, picking her up in his arms despite her attempts to fight him, holding her close as she struggled. He began walking the path toward the village gates, still not letting her look back at the scene.
'Papa, what happened? Where's the puppy?! Papa!'
'He's gone, blossom. He's with his mama. They're at peace now.'
Sakura's struggling stopped then, tears filling her wide eyes. She didn't understand. What did he mean gone?
There was a moment, then, that Sakura could remember feeling somehow older; something had snapped in her little mind. In her little heart. Later she'd come to realize that it was just the beginning of the eventual loss of innocence that all children came to discover in time. But during that moment it had stung painfully, deep inside of her chest.
'Is he... is he dead?'
'Yes.'
'B-but why? Why couldn't we help him? What happened to his mama?'
Her father let out a sigh, his breath blowing through her hair, and gave her a little squeeze before he spoke.
'It was too late for us to help, blossom. Sometimes it's just... too late. Do you understand?'
Sakura shook her head against his cheek. No, she didn't understand. He continued.
'He and his mama had been attacked and they just... the others overwhelmed her. She was unable to fight them off.'
'The others?'
'Yes, Sakura. The other wolves.'
The other wolves? Sakura shook her head to try and clear her thoughts. She didn't understand at all. Why would the wolves try to hurt other wolves? That didn't make any sense; they were the same.
'Why would the other wolves be trying to hurt them, Papa?'
'Different reasons, blossom. Sometimes they see a male from another pack and they feel...' He paused as if looking for a word that she might understand, 'Scared. They were trying to get to the little wolf and his mama tried to fight them off. It was just too late.'
'But... he was just a baby, Papa. How could they be scared of a baby?'
'Because one day, he'd grow up and he'd become stronger than them. It was... easier that way for them when he was still little. It's just animal nature, Sakura.'
Sakura frowned. She kind of understood, she supposed. It was still very sad.
'People don't do that... do they, Papa?'
He was silent for a while, as they walked through the village gates, waving to someone as they passed. Eventually, he spoke, and Sakura thought he sounded just as sad as she felt.
'Sometimes they do.'
Sakura struggled with this. It was hard to believe that anyone - animals or people - would hurt one of their own like that. All because they were scared of something that hadn't happened yet. Why?
'For the same reasons?'
'Sometimes. And sometimes for different reasons. They're...threatened by them, even if sometimes they have no real reason to be. They think they do though, and they can't see through that. Sometimes people act before they think, blossom. That's why you must always be patient. Do you understand?'
She understood why being patient was important, and why it was important to think before you did something that could get someone or yourself hurt. That part wasn't hard to understand.
'Yes, Papa.'
The part she struggled with, even as she closed her eyes that night, tucked into her pink bed, was how someone would ever want to hurt or even kill one of their own. Why wouldn't they want to protect them? She thought of the mother wolf - who had tried to protect her baby and had gotten killed to save him - and then she thought of her parents. If she were in danger, she knew that they would try and save her too.
Sakura swore to herself - as the moonlight danced across her drifting eyelids, surrounded by her stuffed animals, snuggled into her safest place, with her Mama and Papa who loved her so much so close by - that she would do the same, no matter how much she got hurt in the end. She knew that if she ever had something as precious, she'd protect it with everything she had.
Even if it killed her.
...
Sakura panicked.
She didn't know what had happened, where the disconnect was made, when the fear had gripped her so tight that her heart might stop, or how any of the night's events led up to that moment. All she knew was that when Kisame had looked down at her, with something warmer, something different, something she'd never seen and had never expected to see in his eyes, she couldn't see it then.
All she saw, was her fear, her anger - and eventually his - and the ultimate collision that they were headed towards. She could see it as well as if someone had mapped it out before her. Something terrible, something that would only end in pain on all sides. Nothing but pure tragedy. There was no hiding anything from him, at this rate, and she was in trouble if she thought she could. No alternative spun from these facts, no other storyline played out in her head; it was inevitable.
So she ran.
Panic overwhelmed her then and she snapped. She pushed her arms into his chest hard and dislodged herself from his hold, not registering the surprised look on his face as she fell to her feet, not delaying one fucking second as she bolted away.
Her frenzied footfalls echoed all around as she sped through the winding hallways of the base and her heart thundered wildly into her chest. She didn't take into account her state of undress, the soreness in her legs - the soreness in her entire body - or anything that had just transpired. Her mind was frantic and a voice somewhere inside of it was screaming to get away, get far away, just run!
She didn't know if he'd come after her but it didn't matter, she needed somewhere to hide. She needed to hide now, as fast as possible because if she didn't he'd hurt her, he'd hurt the baby, he'd kill them both.
She skidded to a stop in front of the lone linen closet that sat at the very end of the hallway and threw the door open, stuffing herself inside as towels and sheets fell around her. Curling herself into them, she clamped her hand over her mouth, praying to whoever could hear that he wouldn't come after her. She let her breathing calm for a second and with every ounce of energy in her body, tried to repress her chakra as best as she could.
She sat like that for what felt like a long time when she finally heard his footsteps, hard and heavy, and surely full of rage making their way toward her. Sakura bit down on her tongue and stopped breathing altogether as she listened to the sound of doors opening and closing as he moved through the hallway. She could feel his chakra, different than she'd ever felt it, like a boiling waterfall pouring over every inch of her.
Silent tears streamed from her eyes in the dark, burning hot vicious paths down her cheeks and she prayed he couldn't smell her because now, he would for certain kill her if he found her. No thoughts of how she couldn't hide from him forever or how eventually they would cross each other's paths despite her every attempt to avoid it blossomed into her brain.
He was standing in front of the closet now.
She couldn't hear him breathing, couldn't hear anything, but she could feel him standing on the other side of the door. That boiling, rushing chakra was so intense that it threatened to tear her voice from her throat but she kept it pressed down. Her arms squeezed her midsection tightly, protectively, and an angry thought popped through her terror-filled brain.
She would never let him hurt this child.
What felt like days passed as she cocooned herself into the linens, the floor cold beneath her, fear and hatred - though for who she was unsure - tearing through every cell in her body. It had only maybe been five minutes in reality that he remained in front of the door but she knew, she just knew that he knew she was there. She readied herself for a fight - one she'd inevitably lose - as she waited for the moment when he'd rip that closet door off of its hinges, drag her out, and tear her to shreds.
But that moment never came.
He moved away from the door now. She listened as his footsteps lead him back towards the front of the base and when she was sure he was far enough away, released a ragged, gasping breath. She made no move to leave the closet, even though she was certain he was gone, no longer able to feel his chakra, and instead was forced to come back to herself.
The shock of everything that had just transpired was starting to wear off and she could finally feel the soreness she had ignored before. It spread throughout her arms, her lungs, between her legs; everywhere. A sharp sting on her throat caused her fingers to fly up and she felt the raised skin there, little swollen indents in her flesh in a perfectly curved line.
She could register, adrenaline coming to a halt, the cold wetness that lingered on her underwear. She could feel her still exposed nipple tighten against the air and the frayed edges of her shirt where it'd been torn against her skin. She could now detect his scent all over her as it mixed with her own, a now slightly flowery, salty, musky fragrance that taunted her nose. And now, fresh from her haze of terror, she could feel his mouth as it pressed delicately against her forehead, hear his words as they rumbled from his chest.
And she could see his face, slightly shocked and confused and almost hurt, as she pushed herself away from him.
Sakura bit her lip but she didn't cry this time, the hollow numbness in her chest merely spreading out until it reached her fingers. Like a blanket, it wrapped her in itself, as if trying to protect her from something she refused to let herself feel. Exhaustion followed then, settling into her bones, and she sunk into the warm linens that surrounded her.
Briefly, just as sleep claimed her, she thought she could hear a slam.
...
Konan watched, through torrents of rain, as Kisame sped out into the night like Hell itself was nipping at his heels.
It was as she'd feared, she decided then: this was not a game that was meant to be won. These two - as different as could be, but somehow the same - would end up on the losing side regardless of how the outcome played out.
And whether it was their child, their lives, or even each other - they would both suffer, somehow in the end.
Pein and Madara were convinced that this didn't matter, just so long as they succeeded. If they both won, somehow everyone would come out on top. The ends would always justify the means.
'Foolish.'
But what about the two players who didn't know what they were playing? Did their ends not matter, so long as they played their parts in ignorance? Was that all there could be?
Was there no way for there to be more?
Konan wanted desperately to seek them both out to force her hand, with the knowledge she had now, and make them see just how in danger they both were. She wanted to shake Sakura and make her understand that she didn't have to hide all of her feelings away, that there was something in Kisame that quite possibly only she retrieve. She wanted to scream at Kisame and make him see that he wasn't some cold, unfeeling monster, that there was more to him than that bloody armor he's wrapped himself in, regardless of what he'd been convinced. She wanted to force them both to realize just how much better they could understand each other if only they'd try.
Instead, she did nothing, because it wasn't her place. She couldn't force anything between them and they'd never listen. Both of them were such stubborn individuals; two single, separate walls with a crumbling roof between them. A roof that, with no effort put towards a fix, threatened to fall at any moment. A roof that, as much as they both hated it, joined them together at their most crucial juncture.
As Konan turned away from the window and made her way through the deathly silent building, she couldn't help but wonder if either of those walls would still be standing when that roof finally collapsed.
...
Somewhere in Rain Country, three hours away from Amegakure, a man lay still at the bottom of a lake of his own design.
If someone were to look closely at this man, they might not think he was even a man at all. Sure, he had all of the defining features of one: a strong body, flesh to cover it, warm blood in his veins, a brain with ideas and principles, and a heart that beat like the rest.
Despite these features though, this man had an appearance very different than most others. That strong body held the genes of a demon, that flesh was the blue-grey color of starlight, that blood carried brutality, that brain could kill in any number of ways and that heart had lain dormant and cold for most of his life.
This man had been perceived by others in the exact image he'd etched for himself. Not as a man at all, but as a monster, a terrible thing that struck from the dark, soaked in blood and fear as if it were the salve to cure his humanity. He killed in coldness, he thrived in darkness and he had taught himself to feel nothing.
However...
Despite his attempts to surrender his humanity to the force he'd convinced himself was destined to control him, this man - as it would turn out - was just the same as any other. When you chipped away the layers of bloodlust, hardened steel, and years of armor he'd built around himself all you were left with was still just a man.
No monster lurked beneath that storm he had so carefully constructed; all that remained was just a man - who could bleed, who could sweat, who could die, who could laugh - a man who could feel.
...
Kisame wasn't sure how long he'd been down there but he couldn't find it in himself to care.
The area he had torn through hadn't stood a chance and had been completely laid to waste in his wake. Trees had fallen around him in mere splinters, the ground had split into massive cracks and craters and nearly the entire area had been flooded.
And now, as he lay submerged beneath the destruction, his body finally exhausted and hands broken, all that Kisame could do was think.
He didn't know what he'd expected from Sakura but it hadn't been that. He had let his guard down for a second, the first time ever maybe, and all she had seen fit to do was throw it in his fucking face.
He had been extremely confused at first, as she had twisted away from him and taken off in the opposite direction like a thief in the night. He might have thought it was some fun, little sex game she had wanted to play if he didn't know any better.
He might have if he hadn't seen her fucking face as she did it.
Those emerald eyes, wide with horror - that kiss-bruised mouth, agape with abhorrence - that otherwise beautiful face, twisted with panic - every time he closed his eyes he could still see it.
He had never seen her look so absolutely disgusted at anything.
When she was gone from his view, that confusion had turned into anger, a raw and blinding field of pure fucking rage that had whipped around him like a storm. He went after her then, his pride wounded something fierce because how fucking dare she. How dare she, he thought as he stalked her scent - their scent - through the halls, pull this shit now, now after he'd given her what she wanted, what she had acted like she needed. Why fucking do this now? And just who the fuck did she think she was to do this to him?
Finally, his wrath still in full effect, he had found her, cowering in the fucking linen closet, of all places. She had been trying to hide her chakra but she was doing a piss-poor job of it. Her chakra was leaking all over the place and he could smell her fear creeping from beneath the door. He could smell her tears.
And then something happened, something that had never happened before. All of his anger just dissipated suddenly and a cold feeling settled into his limbs and something... something...had started to burn in his chest.
He hadn't noticed it at first. The blinding fury had kept it bay but the realization that she was afraid of him and had rejected him was causing this feeling that spread like wildfire through his upper half. This feeling that had come to knot and lodge in his throat and he couldn't swallow, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. It made his fingers shake as his hand hovered near the doorknob and it wasn't normal, it wasn't normal and it stung in a way that no weapon or poison had ever had and- oh gods, what the hell is this!?
It stayed there, lodged deep in his throat and threatening to almost choke him until he forced it down, ripping his anger up from a dark place just to make it go away. He needed to destroy something because this was what he could understand, this was normal. Not whatever the fuck that was. Whatever that was felt wrong, it felt wrong in every way.
And so he tore out of the base, unfortunately leaving Samehada behind because he couldn't stay one more second there, in that hallway, with her cowering behind that door, under sheets and towels and her tears that he couldn't stand the smell of. He'd left a path of pure destruction for miles, daring, just praying that someone would come around and find him like this so he could feel their bones snap in his hands, feel the spray of blood on his face that would baptize him of that horrible burn he was still feeling even now.
He'd summoned water clone after water clone with the strict instruction to not show mercy, to go for him like they were out for his blood, and not to fucking stop until he was done. He'd fought hundreds of them, tearing everything apart that he could get his hands on, screaming to the sky when it wasn't enough because it was never enough and why, why hadn't anyone come yet? Hadn't he been loud enough? Hadn't he destroyed enough?
"Show yourself, you fuckers! Come and fucking get me! I know you're fucking there, because you're always fucking there, always waiting to take me down! Well here's your motherfucking chance!" His voice called into the sky, broken and heaving as the torrential downpour rained on overhead. He dropped to his knees, breath ragged, "Here's your chance..."
He stood shakily, swaying as he gained his bearings, stumbling briefly before catching himself and flying through hand seals.
"Suiton: Baku Suishouha!"
A never-ending torrent spewed from his mouth and he didn't stop until less than a third of his chakra remained, and the water swept him away with it, covering the entire clearing and the surrounding forest. The trees he hadn't destroyed were ripped from their roots around him and he let it take him, arms splaying out in the wave as it pulled him under.
And now here he was, at the bottom of the veritable ocean he had just conjured from his body like a fucking demigod and it was returning even now. That tightening pain in his chest that had nothing to do with needing to breathe because he could breathe just fine here. That gripping sensation climbed back into his throat threatening to choke him once more and he couldn't seem to make it go away this time.
He could see things now, taunting images behind his suddenly very heavy eyelids. Those pools of endless emerald and that shimmering halo of pink. Her soft body laid out before him as if she belonged to him. Her small hands fisting in his hair, so tightly, like she was afraid he'd let her go. Those creamy thighs as they anchored him to her - and anchored him to the very earth itself. Her voice as it trembled with his name, sweetly and still so full of lust, so full of desire.
And, as Kisame sunk deeper into the depths he had created, he tried desperately to ignore the burning in his eyes that had nothing to do with the water and everything to do with her.
...
Doing what I can, tryna' be a man,
And every time I kiss you, baby, I can hear the sound
Of breaking down.
...