Author's notes: Here is a really (and I mean reaaaaaaaaaaaaally) short piece about the mind of my favorite character in Samurai Deeper Kyo, Makora. Basically what could have been going on in his mind in the beginning of volume 8 (and end of volume 7). Also I'm following the manga instead of the anime. I have read them only until volume 10 so I hope everything is accurate.

Disclaimer: I don't own Samurai Deeper Kyo, enough said.

Warning: Nothing for once. Just Makora angsting over his lost friendship with Sasuke. I will write the more "juicy" stuff later. *winks*

Revenge Is A Dish Best Serve Cold

By Shadow of Arashi

Cautiously pushing the leaves aside, the young ninja frown as he watched Kyo and his group of friends from his tree. He adjust his position as his eyes scanned the scene, narrowing them to a small slit when he gazed at one of the members of the strange clique, but he kept still.

The boy he was looking at, Sasuke, was younger than he was. He looked like a child with an attitude but he sure knew how to fight. He had experimented it first hand after all. It also appears that he had became one of Yukimura's soldiers now.

/Things change... right Sasuke?/

The ninja thought as his right hand tightened slightly on his kunai, the other unconsciously going for his bandaged chest. His attention was quickly draw to his side through, when a movement alerted his keen senses. A quick scan revealed that his 'comrade' was there.

"What are you thinking about, Makora?"

Haira asked absently, the other general barely looking at the ninja but watching their target instead.

Makora didn't bother gracing his rude partner with an answer. He stayed silent. He rarely spoke anyway, so Haira couldn't blame him for being in character.

Ignoring Haira, Makora went back to watching Sasuke. And the more he did, the more anger he felt. He couldn't believe that his one time... friend, was now joking around so happily and working for someone as he did.

He didn't appear to be trouble or anything. He more than likely didn't even remember him.

And it hurt.

Because he could still remember, no matter how much he wanted to forget. He still remembers back when they were both living in the forest; he remembers the other boy's pride, his will to be the best and to go to the top.

It had been their dream, the one thing they had shared. Their promise. The promise that had kept them going when they had nothing but each other to rely on. Because the people of the forest couldn't count on most creatures to help them, they had cling to each other in hope of a better life.

They had been naive, they had acted like the children they were.

And then Sasuke had went and broke it, shattering their fragile moment of peace and left him alone. And wounded.

He still didn't know how he had managed to survive to that day.

Makora's hand tightened a little more on his kunai, but his face was still expressionless behind his mask.

There was no point in losing himself in the past now. He had a mission to accomplish, and he was going to do it. His feeling didn't matter now, only the mission did.

He had promised himself as child, before he met Sasuke, to never work under somebody else's orders. Today was different. He had changed, just like Sasuke. The gentle child he was had died the night the silver haired boy had left him for dead. Today, if working for Nobunaga could get him what he wanted, he was ready to sell himself.

He had threw his past to the wind, gaining a new name in the process. He had threw his pride and old convictions. And he was determinate not to waste any of it.

/Sasuke, this time I won't let you go of the hook that easily./

Makora vowed darkly, a small part of him still registering Haira's signal. The general was readying himself for his appearance before Kyo and the fight that was going to follow.

It was time to work.

The ninja nodded to Haira and jumped on his feet graciously, before following the general as they both stepped out of their hiding place.

The look of surprise on their face upon seeing Haira was a delight.

Makora left the presentation for the exuberant general then, his attention focusing entirely on Sasuke. The boy hadn't recognized him yet, because of his bandages. But that was all right, he was going to make him remember.

He had all the time need for that. He was a patient man.

Haira fought then, and Makora grinded his walnuts together in that gesture he had picked up as a child as he watched.

They do say revenge is a dish best serve cold.

OWARI