Weeping Samurai | Uchiha Itachi [Editing]

Chapter 13: Monster

I do not own any Naruto characters or settings.  I only own my OC, Musei Shiro.

Warning:  This chapter contains vivid contents of blood and violence.

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

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The village lay dead and lifeless from slaughter, drenched in cold dark blood as Shiro lay thoughtlessly in the dirt. Her knees dug into the dusty ground, smearing her blood-crusted white kimono in the moistened soil. Her dull eyes, blunt as a lump of charcoal, stared down blankly at the body that lay before her. The foreign woman's midnight black hair splayed everywhere under her, the ivory skin that was sliced through by Raiha was smeared in crimson; the wounds were crusting around the edges, glistening and oozing clear fluid along with the blood. Shiro's eyes bore down onto the woman's still figure, seeing another person in place of the stranger.

A warm tear leaked from the corner of her eye, splashing down into the bloody mess below her. She gripped her hands into ridged fists, a constrained choked sound gasping from her slightly parted lips. Pale and colorless, her skin drained from any emotion that was left within her. It was only then she threw her head up towards the gray skies and let out a terrible wail, resonating through the silent town, making the ones who were left cower behind splintered planks of wood or destroyed walls of brick.

By then, it was clear that death was the only fate if anyone uttered the cursed name. The villagers, the ones who were not courageous enough to face the girl, crouched either alone or in pairs, safe and alive. It appears that in the presence of the Shidare no Bushi, slaughter only came to the ones who defy her; cowardice was the only escape from her ghastly, skeletal grasp.

The white katana, splattered in black blood, lay shimmering upon the darkened ground. It's menacing blade glinted threateningly, the late afternoon sun reaching its peak in the gray sky and slowly fell back down towards the mountains. Shiro, who still wept louder than any heartbroken lover, leaned forward and curled her thin body around herself, her arms wrapping around her knees that dug into the ground. Just inches away from the stone-like body of the strange, raven-haired woman, Shiro let out another agonizing cry of lament, her body shaking violently from the unforgiving sobs.

A shinobi's footfalls tapped on the muddy ground. His eyes glinted rather playfully, a wide smirk spreading across his broad face.

“My my, Shiro-chan,” Kisame chuckled, his exceedingly large figure draped over by the dark Akatsuki cloak. “You let yourself slip, didn't you?”

Shiro just sat there, her face buried in her lap as her shoulders continued to shake.

Kisame scoffed.

“I'd expect more from you, Shiro-chan,” he said matter-of-factually. “But seeing that your insanity has been lodged inside of you for quite a while now, I can only presume that a monster resides in the dainty little girl I see before me now.”

“Urusai, Kisame,” a gruff voice lashed out at the large shinobi from behind.

The large man just chuckled.

“Itachi-san, this is the Shidare no Bushi,” Kisame laughed, his booming voice ringing in Shiro's ears. “A ruthless killer who takes no time to think about the consequences of her actions!”

“You're not anyone to speaking about rash movements, Kisame,” Itachi snarled. “Your blood lust is something I've had to endure these past few years.”

“Even more so, the beastly nature of the Shidare no Bushi surely cannot be contained. How is Leader-sama going to control her?”

Shiro shifted in her place, her shoulders now standing still as her long white hair draped over her eyes.