Peace Doesn't Exist

Perfect

A puddle ripples as a footstep hits the edge. Sarada finds herself walking through the ruins of her home. Vegetation climbing the destroyed buildings, and dust and rust puff off the cracks as wind brushes against them. Webbing atop the ruins shimmer in prismatic colors as light reflects upon them. Sometimes a girthy creek echoes in between the buildings.

Sarada finds it soothing. Nature, free from the constraints of humanity, growing without boundaries. Free. It reminds Sarada of herself.

Yet her heartache, being alone for who knows how long. Self-punishment for her sins. But now she had visitors. Someone to talk to, tell her story. And now they say she could have a second chance at life. To be herself. Rebuild.

Does she deserve it?

Memories of her past life flash before her mind. Boruto's smug yet warm smile. Mitsuki's reassurance and willpower. Konohamaru's humor and teachings.

Sarada clutches her chest where her heart is. It's pounding. Tears are forming in her eyes, yet refusing to fall. Fallen leaves begin to lift, higher and higher, swirling around her. It slowly becomes stronger, the wind similar to a storm.

A ghostly hand brushes Sarada's right cheek. A familiar warmth that she knew all her life. Another brushes her left. A caress she once deeply desired and eventually received. This affection is something Sarada knew all too well.

Her family.

Tears fall. She oh so misses their love, yet deep down, she hated them. For what they represent. What they turn her into.

She breathes in, then out. The winds around stop and begin to fall back to the ground. The pounding in her chest had stopped. She wipes away the tears. An objective requires to be fulfilled, and she needs to focus.

The puddle in front of her swells. A black being emerges from the water producing an arrogant smile that Sarada hates. The faint red glow from the inside emits from the mouth and hollow eyes. Its shape resembles a lot of Sarada. A copy.

Sarada groans. "What do you want?"

"Oh, me? Nothing, nothing. I just overheard what you were thinking." The Copy chuckles. "Do you honestly believe you deserve a second chance? After everything you did?"

"Do you ever tire of insulting me?"

The Copy continues to laugh. "How do you think they would react when they find out? They'll hate you. Just like everyone in your life. Slaughter them and get it over with."

Sarada claps her hands with incredible force crushing the Copy's head, leaving a black paste. The body drops then it slowly melts, mixing with the puddle below. Sarada looks at her hands, covered in the black goo.

"D-did I come at the wrong time?"

Behind Sarada is another creature of black. A black version 2 jinchūriki form with a large cloak that covers most of its frame, slimmer than the other black beings, it had two tails poking out, three white glowing eyes, and two holes on the hood letting its long ears wisps freely. It wears bone leather armor beneath the cloak.

Sarada glances at the beast, then back at her hands. The black goo of the mushed Copy's head is gone. Only the empty palm of her hands. She sighs.

"You are equipped for stealth, am I correct?"

"Yes, my Lady. My skills have been improving over the last few months."

"Good. Then I'm sending you to spy on the Suna children."

"Uh, I'm sorry but, what about Barchiel?"

"I've seen them exploring the ruins, so I don't think she's much of an enforcer."