Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Meow Meow Mix! ❯ Snowing Angel ( Chapter 4 )

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

Disclaimer: I Don’t Own Naruto!

Chapter Four: Snowing Angel

She was gentle, she was kind, she was intelligent. Above all she was beautiful. Beautiful like something that couldn’t be found in years of search. Beautiful like she was one of a kind.

She loved the riches of the night: the cool air that wakes her senses, the tumbling snow that falls from the night sky and the petals that dance down from it’s once sitting place. She loved everything about it.

She was dressed in a red kimono that was decorated with sakura petals that seemed to fall endlessly down her side and her hair fell loosely over and down her shoulders. Her cheeks were rosy but underneath, her skin was pale and were tainted with battle wounds and scars.

She reached her hands out, hoping to catch one of the white, solid tears coming down from the sky. Her hands looked delicate and were small, they, however, have killed many. They were the hands of a true kunoichi. She closed her hand into a fist, wrapping it around flakes that had drifted itself upon her hand.

Her pink cherry lips curled up faintly at the ends.

She raised a hand and whisked away her hair behind her ear, her hand lingered as her jaded orbs fall upon a sight. It was black, it was something that didn’t belong, especially in the white snowy winters. The black serpent stared at her with it’s yellow eyes, it’s tongue hissing in and out than it slithered up a tree.

She lowed her hand and glanced slightly over her shoulder.

If only the world could all feel what I am feeling right now…

There he stood, basking in all his glory. He was her idol. He was a legend, feared throughout the worlds. He was the man who gave terror a whole new meaning and he made nightmares a reality. He was also the man who helped her up on her feet when she had fallen, treated her like she was his own, and taught her everything she needed to survive this harsh world.

Her lips uncurled themselves and her face became emotionless. The time had arrived. It was time for the destruction to commence. In some ways, she was frightened. It wasn’t like she adored the idea of a massacre, in truth, she hated all the red and all the screams and cries of those that have died by her hands weeping and bagging for mercy.

She much preferred the snow’s purity and innocence and the silence, the gentle sounds, the stillness. But by doing this, she was repaying the one who had helped her. She was helping him by achieving his dream.

“Come my black cherry, it’s time.” His voice ringed. She turned back to the petals coming down from the trees.

~

With her graceful and smooth moves she flew by bodies and sliced. Carving a path as she went by, carving through everything as she passed. They fell limp and blood flowed out and mixed in with the dirt on the ground.

The fan in each hand seemed to glide and sliced ever so smooth and effortlessly. It looked like she was dancing. Dancing to the rhythm of death.

The sleeves of her kimono flowed elegantly after her arms and fell as she lowed them. Her eyes closed as she took in her situation, taking in the movements and actions of the ones that were around her.

If only the world could see the beauty I see right now…

In all the years of taking, both innocent and tainted, lives, there was one very valuable lesson she had learned while watching those who were suffering in front of her. It was to leave your emotions behind, lock them up and keep them out of view. She had learned that if you let your emotions interfere, regret would envelope you.

They charged.

She drew her arms behind, on her right side.

Wait. The thumping of their feet hitting against the ground, the echoes of their war cry…

Now.

She brought back her arms and swung them in front of her. Just as she swung her arms, she let her legs fall underneath her, with one knee out on the dirt road and the other propped up right.

“What the hell is this!?” She reopened her eyes, the emerald revealed nothing. They were blank and empty. You could even say that her soul had been taken out of her body.

She watched the helpless men tried repeatedly to rub off a black substance that clung to their skin. “Poison. If you were to somehow survive this attack on your village, you will die within four hours. The poison cannot be removed nor is there a cure.” Her voice matched the way the her eyes looked and the way her body moved and attacked with grace.

If only the world…

Elegant and deadly yet with no real intention. She stood.

She closed her fans and tucked them within her sleeves. “Please use this time to bid farewell you those around you.” She watched as confused expressions flashed before her. The looked of bewilderment gleamed in their eyes.

She did not wait for them to ask why, nor did she wanted to explain herself to them. She turned and left, her job was done. ‘He’ had got what he wanted, the village was in chaos, dead bodies were everywhere and the place was a disaster.

All because she had made this possible, all because she was here.

If only the world could see things through my eyes…

She had quickly took the lives of those who had been the strongest in the village and left this place defenceless. Already leaving this place defenceless, was there really anymore reason for her to continue suffering? Yes, it was correct that poison was placed on the last of the villages warriors but, to her, this way they may at least get to say good bye and see their loved ones once again before they pass on.

She didn’t know. She never had to… She never cared about anyone because there was on one. She was always alone, she never had to say good bye to anyone. With no one to care for, her heart and her emotions were cast aside. Saying good bye to loved ones is the hardest thing to do.

The last of the warriors had to suffer the most, they had to say good bye…

Then once they have, I know I can bring the fighting to a stop…