Black Light (Naruto)

Chapter 62

Hello! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

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"Kitsune-san, it'll be okay."

No. No it would not. 

"Just--" She broke off to cough, crimson staining the bedsheets-- "Let me tell you something, ne?"

He couldn't bring himself to speak. All he really saw was Sakura in this moment-- the blue eyes could so easily turn sea-green, the dark hair could shift mere shades and the lighting could change and it'd be pink. The pale skin was the correct shade, it could just use some de-bloodening. 

"Hai." He managed to answer. 

"I was really excited to meet you." Her blood red lips turned into a shaking smile. "And, uhm, I was also excited to meet Jiraiya-sama. I know I'm going to get cremated, y'know, but I really wanted to read a copy of that book. I want to know how it e--"

Hikaru would rather like to barter for her life at that moment. Just long enough to fufill what sounded like her dying wish. But it sounded like she was coughing up her lungs, and Hikaru paused. 

He should really just get this over with. 

His sword shook at his side, running his finger along the hilt of his sword. He could feel himself trembling slightly. He hadn't killed a friend in a long time. Well, not this directly. 

"I just..." He saw tears billow in her eyes. "Let me know how it ends, okay? Right now."

He nodded softly, opening his mouth to speak. But there was a voice deeper then his own, from the very front of the room. 

"Death rids the girl of her pain." Jiraiya said, and Hikaru turned. "And they're all happy."

A happy ending fit for a painful life. 

"That sounds nice." Her voice was weaker, and Hikaru raised his sword. 

Little did he know it was an omen for everything to follow. 

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He stared blankly at his apartment. Kami, he was so glad to be able to shower and change into informal clothes. He hated wearing that cursed kimono-- it was much to heavy and thick, and he felt too much like he sweated buckets in it. 

He turned his gaze to the mask on his bedroom wall. It was okay-- nobody but Kakashi, Sakura, and Sasuke had been in here. Naruto was much too awkward to even ask him to enter his bedroom. And now Sakura was gone, so...

Hikaru blinked. 

And then he quietly shed his sword, pulling off his ANBU vest that he'd unknowingly pulled back on after his shower. His hair was heavy and wet, little droplets of water rolling down his face. It was then that he was glad his apartment had no carpet. 

He'd need to wash his clothes. 

Hikaru headed to his laundry room-- a small storage room where he'd found outlets inside of, and deemed it his laundry room. It held a portable washer and dryer, as well as spare fabric if he ever needed to patch up his own clothes. It also held most of his winter gear, as he wasn't stupid enough to walk around without a coat on in Konoha's winter. 

Okay. 

So he'd killed a friend. No big deal, right?

Wrong. Very, very, very wrong. His morals, or, rather, what was left of them, did not like that. He didn't like that, even if it had been inflicting mercy upon her. Not to mention the ever-reminding presence of Sakura inside of her, although that really shouldn't have had an effect.