Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Envy My Pain ❯ Angelic Blood ( Chapter 4 )

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Envy My Pain

Chapter 4: Angelic Blood

By: A Sinners Curse

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“You’ll want what I permit you to want.”

“Why are you letting this guy dictating you’re every action, fight back---stop being so weak!”

((Am I really acting weak, am I suppose to be something else?))

“It just doesn’t seem right; I say you should push him away for invading your personal space and ask…no demand to know the truth…about who we really are.”

((He’ll get angry, and then what? I don’t know if I should trust you ‘Inner Me’ I think your going to get me in trouble.))

Her thoughts were cut short; it was becoming a rather bothersome occurrence with him. It was turn out to be difficult to fight the inner bickering voice in the back of her thoughts, and then being confronted by something unfamiliar and distant. The smooth texture of the soft sponge slid on the base of her collar bone, and her eyes shot from a distant daze, into the complex vision of his onyx depths of complexity. He was so hard to learn, and it was even more difficult when you had no foundation to relate to…too retaliate to…be defending to. He wasn’t being so hard or cruel, he actually being compassionate which made it all the more unease for her to handle.

He was lathering her skin with the sweet smell of lavender, what a weird aroma to favor, but it was one of the first sweet smells she’d discovered---although this smell give the impression of nothing like him. He was much more spicier then this flowery sent. Her gaze was penetrating, and she watched as his body took on a more defensive stance, he was acting hostile to her curiosity, and the gentleness was robbed away. She found his hand grasping painfully upon her forearm, which had been lying lazily under the waters edge. He raised it to eye level, and placed the sponge there upon her force opened palm.

“I suppose you’ve learned the general idea.”

He pushed his body from her own as he drew back to watch her. The sponge at hand, and from a distance she watched his distaste climb onto the features of his dark personality. She took note to how secluded he was from the world; she took in the realization that he enjoyed separation from others, although he obviously found it to his amusement in playing the mad hatter scientist, which disrupted the inner foundation of those around him. He was enjoying her torture, she could read his eyes---the windows to his soul, but she couldn’t figure out what role he was pretending to play. He was playing these characters, one the seductress the tempest sadistic lover; the intimate lover, the other a tormentor, another was a darker individual that made her skin crawl, and the other she couldn’t quite place her thumb upon it.

“When are you going to stop role playing?”

“What.”

She could hear the raw irritation behind his throat. It was an eerie warning that she was crossing the line, once again. She had to pry; it was some inner conflict that pushed her. She blamed it on her inner voice, the stronger half of herself that demanded to know---the why, the when, the where, the who, and the how. She pushed past his red flags of invisible warning; something told her there was more behind him then the mask he placed up.

“You’re playing with me, I can’t determine why--- but when I’m afraid of you, you show me the generosity of gentleness, affection, and then when I‘m curious…”

She felt the sting before she realized the hand that had flung upon the air---it crashed cruelly upon the curved of her slender cheek and she didn’t even have the chance to utter out a whimper of pain to the raw throbbing feel of the smack, because his fingers dug maliciously into the curve of her heart-shaped face, her cheeks felt the stinging of his violent colored nails, her chin was forced at the position of attention as he glowered down upon her meek frail naked body. Even though, she could feel the biting of his nails---the sting of crimson colored blood---the color of a scarlet red drizzling down her pail complexion---his face was impassive. Although she knew he was fuming on the inside, his face had this aloof expression. It made her concern on what he was capable of doing, and although that inner self had been so colorful moments ago---her voice was now lost behind the knot in her throat, her fear openly expressively exposed on her fearful gaze.

“I merely play whatever role I find it amusingly enjoyable to play, ‘pet’. At every level I can test and probe that is my technique, a technique that I use to learn my victims best. I played the big brother for twenty years, to test the value of a becoming tool. I played the son, I played the best friend, and I even played the village prodigy. All sentimental weakness that the human mind forms a bond with---and in exchange for there compliance I used my inner abilities to test what my limits could be. The question was always---what couldn’t I do. I killed my entire clan without a second thought, without remorse---their blood is tainted upon these very hands that draw out the weakness in your own blood. Never question me, never second guess me…you are a tool. Your worth is what I deem it to be near the end.”

He kissed her hard then, and her eyes were glued open with terror, disbelief, and suddenly an uncanny feeling of abhorrence crawled into the ever growing doubt of her mentality. His kiss was passionless, and remorseless. It made the corner of her lip drip the sweet metallic taste of the blood. Her soul shattered in the ferocity of his unsettling words, made her cry---oh the anguish! She felt that her tears could fill up the pool of water she soaked in. When her back was pressed into the cold porcelain edging she felt her body entrapped with his. The sponge in her hand was clenched tightly, like if she were to let it go---she’d die. She felt like screaming, that inner voice was telling her to scream. And she did, in one high piercing moment, where he allowed himself a moment to breath…she screamed.

“Mmm, your soul…it’s braking. I enjoy that sound…yes scream Sakura-Chan. Scream until your throat is so raw with hate that you can no longer feel it,” He pressed his lips to her ear as he slid her up into his hands, cupping her buttocks in his strong grasp as a hard silky smooth rod teased wickedly, and temptingly at a hallow core, “Scream for me.”



“Are you one hundred percent positive you want to go through with this Hatake, you understand the risks---and the odds, and the possibilities that what you could be going up against?”

Her voice was bitter, cold, and distinctly distant. It was a feeling, an emotion that one took on when losing a loved one, especially when it came to Tsunade past. The events were emotionally damaging to the mentor of Sakura. Not only did she lose her apprentice, or her beloved student. She lost someone that she had saw great potential in---she lost someone she could relate to motherly feelings for, she was that person who had personal filled the whole in her heart from her brothers’ death---she was her prodigy. Sakura was an all around different girl, much like Tsunade when she was younger. And because of that Tusunade had saw apart of her, in Sakura. It had been comforting and enjoyable to have someone so endearing and so trusting again, someone who she could share secrets just between them. This was killing not only her but all of Konoha. The of was all family, but she knew Hatake---he was taking it the worst.

“I understand.” He was impassive, emotionless, and stern. His body was the same a ridged and tense form. The tension in the room seemed to intensify with his bitterness.

“Hatake, I don’t want you going on a suicide mission. You’re in no physical condition to be going on an S ranked mission. I’m suggesting that you wait---“

“Time is against us, it has from the beginning. Sakura is one of my students…and I will not allow myself to fail another student.”

“She’s an Ex-student, who’s a well trained as a Medic-nin. She’s my student, my pupil, and my apprentice. I’m hurting just the same Kakashi…but the reality of the situation is---we don’t have the man power or the strength to go against the Akatsuki.”

“I can’t…”

“I’m not going to dictate what your choices are, that would be unfair---and selfish for me to do. I can only ask that you to heed my warnings and give us time to gain up enough information---and enough men power and Intel. But, what you decide is your decision. I just hope them rational enough.”

“Please…tell Naruto-Kun when he awakes---I’m getting Sakura-Chan back.”

“He’s still in critical condition…there’s know definite say if he will wake up---“

“When he wakes up…”

“I understand, and I will tell him.”

A breeze seemed to enter the cold, tense air of the room. The calm expression of dullness that was usually worn upon his handsome features was now distorted with sleepless nights, bewitched with plagued thoughts, and distorted nightmares. You could see the lines of worry, and inner grief. It left Tsunade worried with what this would do to everyone’s heavy hearts, but more importantly to her favorite Copy-nin. She knew, that Kakashi was doing the only thing he knew…which was to defend and protect at all cost. Despite his troublesome attitude of being extremely passive---there was a side to him, which came out in the most unexpected and unpredictable moments. It was a side that showed his true heroics, patriotism and his passion for life, and his adoration for the ones he loved. His life was openly meaningless without his students, and she knew with that the betrayal of young Sasuke was the worst toll Kakashi had taken, and knowing that he blamed himself for the mistake of the boys’ poor choices, made the weight on his shoulders with Sakura all the more dreadful. She felt pain clenching at her heart as her face turned to the window---a few leaves drifted out, and she knew that the Copy-nin had departed.

How unfortunate for all this to be occurring…Konoha’s responsibilities and the responsibilities of the people within it. It was a horrible, messy, and tiresome job. She knew this, when she had obtain the title of the ‘fifth Hokage’ Little did she doubt that things could perhaps have a happy ending…the sorrow of a journey are never gleeful, joyful, or happy, but the memories last a life time it’s something you cherish through the hardest trails of the journey---and with the good their is the bad, and right now there was a lot of bad---but the perseverance of good was always at work, she had faith, and more importantly she had hope.

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She was left there, used, abused, and thrown away. She had been crying heavily now for a few minutes, and the hot water held nothing to comfort the broken bits, and the shattered pieces of her braking soul. She felt…tattered. She shivered under the blink of the candle lights shimmer that danced around the dark marble walls---the relaxing atmosphere that they once held seemed haunted, as he glowered in the far corner of the large lavishing tub---He was cleaning the flesh of his sensual skin, and with the same sponge he’d used upon her. Coyly he washed his body, washing away at her blood that had drizzled carelessly upon his chest, he acted like it was nothing but dirt---and her eyes watched him with trepidation of what motives he had now that he had hurt her and tasted her blood...When his eyes shot up, they were red and she bit back a cry from the corner of her space her eyes darting to avoid them quickly.

“Come here, pet.”

You could take particular note to his choice of words. He wasn’t calling her Sakura now, he was using that horrid title, and for some odd particular reason---she hated it. She shook her head timidly back and forth, indicating a fighting ‘no.’ she shivered like a coward, her body felt cold. He had assaulted her with pain a few moments ago, and not once had entered her with his tool, like he had done the first night of her life. He had bit her, and cut her---he made her cry…but not once did he enter her. She felt tears crawling down her marred cheeks her chest rising and falling with anguish.

“I was not asking, I was telling---pet.”

Awkwardly she pushed her body from the perched seat she had imprisoned herself to, like a punished child sent to the steps. Agonizingly slow she began to comply with his command as she began to tread towards him stopping a good foot away. Her emerald hues shimmered fearfully as they rested at the waters ripples, avoiding all contact with his evil sinister orbs. She knew now that he hated when he was looked upon, by what he deemed unworthy.

“Wash me.”

He tossed her the sponge with the flick of his finger---it splashed upon the upper service of the water, it floated there---sinking agonizingly slow almost as if it was mocking her. Her fingers reached for the appending object and then grasped the soft silk-like sponge…it was amazingly softer then she remembered, and then her eyes darted to his firm supple body and she felt this embracing feeling heat up to her pained cheeks. Where does one start? Her eyes clung to his chest, and the bronze colored nipples were hard and they seemed alluring. Strangely but hesitantly her fingers drew out, as she patted at the collar bone of his chest but his fingers twined around her forearm that held the sponge, and then the other grasped her other forearm pulling her gently into the slender curve of his hips, so now that her hips were mated with his own.

“Start where I started.”

Her eyes drew up to his nose, not once did she dare to look into the depths of his despairing gaze. When his hand guided her free hand behind him her eyes glisten with unexpected fear. He chuckled richly and darkly as he drew her hands to the outer side of the tub towards the bottle that sat there. She took the hint to pick it up and she did---the moment she did he dropped both her wrists, but his intent gaze never leaving her.

She drew the sponge in front of her view, and then the bottled soap, she poured the contents of the bottle out and then her eyes forked in confusion. It was such a spicy sent…it was a lot like his sent but it was a little more potent and a little less worked in. Her nose twitched to the sent, but she pushed back her curiosity and placed it there on the sponge---and then to his cheek, where she’d washed away her blood. How much had she bled? As if reading her thoughts, he complied with her fear of seeing her own blood.

“This water has a self healing herb in it, I’m surprised you being a Medic-nin--that you didn’t realize that by now.”

“Medic…”

“I did not eradicate your medical intuition from your memories…”

“I remember techniques…I remember how to fight, to heal, but everything is foggy---the foundation of it all.”

“That feeling will soon come to pass; you’re in the awkward stage.”

“Where their others, Itachi-sama?”

She drew the sponge there, vigilantly but attentively she applied ample pressure to the sponge along his face, then the smooth curve of his throat as she watched with great interest---the soap suds running down the thick muscles of his well worked, and well trained body.

“Yes and no…”

“Oh…”

“Listen to me Sakura…”

His thumb drew up and pulled her gaze to his---those eyes were such a deep red, they made her feel like her insides were turning; like he was penetrating her with just one look. It was daunting, and it made her apprehensive. But his thumb was gentle, and her body was more relaxed to his calm state, so she took advantage of his current ’role play’ that he deemed to test her with. His

“I need you to heal my eyes…”

“Heal them?”

“Yes.”

“You’re asking me…?”

“Yes, I am asking you.”

“I, I don’t think I remember…”

“Of course you do…”

“Maybe if you where to return my memories…”

“I can’t, even if I wanted to---the forbidden art is a process that is permanent and irreversible.”

“Oh…”

̶ 0;But, I was able to control the amount of what I wanted from your memory---your skills were left intact. You’re concentrating too much on your memory recall, and it’s not about remembering it’s about acting out with muscle memory. Lift your hands to my head, there at my temples.”

She did just as he had requested, and before she could figure out what was happening a relaxation of familiarization came over her, as her eyes closed on there own accord and within seconds a green aura glowed around the part of his throbbing temples, it was transmitting from the palm of her hands---she could feel this comforting heat ignited there as she emitted a healing Chakra into the sclera section of his eyes, you could watch as the inner pupil discharged a distinct glow…she could here him grunt, as she concentrated on the iris and pupil entering the chakra into the hardest part of the eye which was the conjunctiva it was a battle to pass through the trickiest layer of the eye so that she could entered into the major components of the Vitreous, the choroids, the macula, the retina and then to the source of the final problem the optic nerve, it was there she could feel the pain, the agony, the source to some of his distinct pains…was it hurting him that much?

She continued until she felt her body draining---and before she could realize that she’d given up to much Chakra, and the consequences of being so careless…two hands shot out and captured her before she slipped under the hot liquid current of water, his arms brought her body to rest upon the hallow of his chest…the hot steamy water was so warm and comforting now, and in his arms she felt strangely safe.

“Why do you want my soul, Itachi-sama?”

He was kissing her throat, he didn’t respond to her question---and wickedly he shifted her in his arms so that she was straddling his lap, he was kissing her again this time his tongue rolled into the into the cavern of her wet moist mouth---she moaned softly as his hands supported the small of her back. It was an amazing feeling---but for some odd particular reason she felt so drained, emotional and physically. She sighed as she curled into the frame of his body, and she felt her body drained and weak---and before she could relate, or struggle to fight for light she felt the world blur around her, and then everything was black. He spoke to her, in words she’d never hear conscience---but it was like she could distantly hear him…like he was within the shadows of her empty mind.

“Who said anything in wanting your soul? I want rupture it--- dominate you, and idolize you. Like a priceless porcelain doll…” he began to stroke her hair, and cuddle her like a lover would to his intimate counter partner.

“I was not given the luxuries of a conscience Sakura-Chan, I have nothing to give you in the aspects of emotions and feelings…I’m doing to you the only thing I know…I’m killing you cherry blossom. That is why you must detest me, hate me, and allow it to consume you---so that you can be like my brother, the man you devoted that little heart too, or that teacher you adore far more then you ever amounted credit to. I want to give birth to another worthy avenger, and to allow you to become a tool of destruction, a tool that I planned to make you become. Sleep in my arms; I will play the role of lover. I will adorn you with false security; and a false blanket of hope…until the day that you will leave.”

He drew her up into his arms, shifting her in his strong powerful arms, much like a groom would for his bride over the threshold of their home. Yes, she lay motionless---except for the small rising and falling of her chest or the timid breaths of air as she sucked in through parted swollen lips. She was so fragile, just words could make her brake---even her blood that he had forced from her body, did nothing compared to the inflicting words he had used upon her. She was so easy to brake, so amusing to torture---but he knew that her intelligence was not to be questioned. She was much smarted then he had first considered her to be, and she already was reading and interacting with his personalities---she was second guessing him, and the annoying thing about it was she hit a little to close to home for comfort. He would have to delude her from her dangerous and treacherous inner thoughts---it was strange that when he was in her mind he was confronted with another personality; and he couldn’t really take that part from her; he knew that it was a inner conflict of judgment but he could only erase her memory of curtain selection from the cerebral cortex of her brain, to much of anything was a dangerous thing. To control that inner personality, he had to screw up the foundation of her hippocampus, is one of the more important parts of the brain that processes memories. It is where old information and new information, or memories, which are thought to be processed and stored away in different areas of the cerebral cortex. If that part of her dominated the one now, oh Kami forbid it managed to act out it’s resolution he’d have his hands full.

He had studied the classification of memory, which is based on the duration of memory retention, and identifies three distinct types of memory: sensory memory, short-term memory, and long-term memory. Although with Sakura, it was a struggling battle to understand the exact effects, his Forbidden Art had done. She was different from all the rest of his lab pets---she surprised him, which was a rarity.

Jiraiya had been exceptionally resourceful, with his collective information on the Akatsuki. Had it not been for that perverted hermit, he wouldn’t have nearly the information he needed for this solo mission.
Hatake Kakashi was on the fast moving trail to finding his abducted ex-student…the mask he wore was no longer the tilted band of Konoha, or the mask that drew over his lips and the peek of his nose that had concealing his identity of his handsome chiseled features. No, he wore the mask of a dog, painted and outlined in tribal patterns, his uniform was ANBU, and behind him were a fierce group of his dogs. He prayed, that it wasn’t to late…he couldn’t live with himself knowing that he could loose the only women he’d ever allow into the depths of his closed heart, the one that had turned to stone when he had lost his teammates all those years ago...He’d die for her, he’d live for her, he’d fight for her, she was everything to him.