Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Small Gods ❯ Grim Reaper ( Chapter 9 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Author's Note: for those who may be confused, this, Sasuke's appearance will be the last he will be making for some time. The chapter is short, but it conveys what it needs to say; so I think.

Grey ash drifted through the charred wasteland, like the petals of some diseased flower. A young man was standing in the midst of it all, the gaping maws of skulls opened in silent screams, smouldering tinders and wreckage.
It had been all too easy.
He stood completely still, sword drawn and trailing in the dust. The light was polluted by overcast skies and the still floating ash covered everything like so much filthy snow. It fell on his stark black hair, black pants, white tunic, and pale, pale skin. The ash fell on Uchiha Sasuke.
He’d reduced the traveling caravan to drifting charcoal and debris. There was absolutely nothing left to recognize what it had once been; a sacred procession of one of the southern tribes. They had been transporting their warrior priests to a secret location, it was said that these men knew some kind of Life jutsu that was guarded jealously by the tribe. For once, Orochimaru’s sources had been correct.
Sasuke’s eyes swirled with blood red violence, copying, recording what they had seen for future reference.
It had been ridiculously easy.
All he’d had to do was goad them into attacking by threatening the life of the head priest. That was all. What was it they’d said? ‘By the time he saw their jutsu he’d be dead.’ He was doing pretty well --- for a dead man.
Sasuke lifted a delicate hand and looked at it passively; it was the one he’d used on the loudmouth who’d shouted that drivel at him; the one who had those perfectly clear blue eyes; the one that stared defiantly back into his own malevolent red as he put out those same eyes, burning them to melted gunk, severing them from his life.
He wished they would.
There were little orange and yellow fires noisily disturbing the monotony of the scarred landscape. They were the only color for miles of greyscale around. Sasuke was reminded of a small thing, a triviality really. Fire burned bright blue at the base because that was where it was the hottest and most deadly. He could see it slightly, under all the loud, annoying, blasted orange.
Fire was his element, his preferred weapon, and it was orange…
How stupidly ironic.
He turned, disgusted with the past and with himself for even remembering it, and left the scene to its morbid decay. There would be time to confront the old annoyances, but not now, not today.
He would surpass all things that threatened his supremacy...even memories.