Weeping Samurai | Uchiha Itachi [Editing]

Chapter 7: Crossroads

 I do not own any Naruto characters or settings.  I only own my OCs, which include Musei Shiro.

This chapter does not contain any descriptions of blood or violence.

I hope you enjoy the story of Shiro, the Weeping Samurai of the Land of Iron!

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The chillness of the night coursed through her veins. The snow fell gently from the gray heavens, her glowing white hair catching some of the powder. The snowflakes were little forms of perfect tiny crystals, weaving intricate patterns with their frozen crystals; Shiro's face reflected the cold snow, equally pale and cold. Her black eyes stared off into the distance, unfocused and slightly fearful.

Pitch darkness plagued her sight, nothing but the weak beams of the thin crescent moon glowed in the white landscape. It was empty from anything save a few skinny trees, bare from the harsh winter that brought the snowfall upon them. Their skeletal branches reached across the icy air like hands, their bony fingers layered in a thin sheet of white.

Shiro blinked her eyes a few times before she gazing around, letting the darkness seep into her sight. The girl's breath was released in a white cloud of steam with every exhale, her throat burning as she sucked in the frightfully freezing air back in. Her pale skin seemed to glow like the snow on the ground, her white hair even more pale. The landscape was empty for a little while, the haunting silence numbing her ears as the cold stabbed her chilled skin like a thousand needles.

A strong wind gusted through the plain, swiping Shiro's shimmering white hair to the side. Her eyes flickered to the side, not expecting to see anything but bare trees. Instead, she was sent back with a hard kick to her side.

Her frail skinny body tumbled in the snow, the crystals stabbing into her skin as she skidded face-down on the ground. She let out a little grunt, dazed as she frantically tried to understand what was going on. The fear that embedded inside of her suddenly liquidated and a stone of fury lodged inside her chest. Her brow furrowed and Shiro pushed herself up from the ground, launching herself at her attacker. Her bony hand was scrunched up into a tight fist, stretched back and ready to make contact with skin.

Her onyx eyes widened as she saw the identity of the person before her.

“Y...Yoru...?” Shiro's voice trembled as she gasped.

“Yo...Neechan.”

The girl standing before her looked something of a beautiful assassin. Her night-black hair was considerably longer, seeming to fall to the bottom of her ribcage. Some of the dark locks though were pulled back into one long tail with some shorter hair framing her more mature, heart-shaped face. Her silver-gray eyes shimmered like metallic iron in the pale moonlight; her skin was just as pale as her elder sister's. A smirk adorned her ivory face, her glossy red lips curving up venomously.

“W...where have you been?” Shiro's pale face lit up, a sincere smile spreading across her usually depressed features. “I've been worried sick! How did you manage to escape from Orochimaru?”

“Escape?” The younger girl raised a slim eyebrow. “I didn't escape. Why would I ever escape from him?”

Shiro's smile dissipated from her face.

“Then...why are you here?”

“Isn't it obvious?” Yoru's features glowered down at her sister. “I've come here to kill you.”

Shiro's onyx eyes grew even wider, her mouth hanging slightly ajar from shock.

“Kill me?” she whimpered. “Why would you kill me? I'm trying to save you, Yoru!”