Weeping Samurai | Uchiha Itachi [Editing]

Chapter 16: Haste

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

This chapter contains some descriptions of blood.

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

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“What have you done…?” Shiro cried, her strained voice ringing in Itachi’s ear.

“What do you mean, Shiro-san?” the shinobi asked, confused.  “I saved your life.  Shouldn’t you be thanking me…?”

“What have you done!” the samurai shrieked, pushing the shinobi away from her embrace.  “Let me die!  Let me die already!”

“Shiro-san –!” Itachi reached out for the girl, but she slapped his hand away.  Her own hand, with a deep slice opening her palm through to the back of her hand, smeared a thick glob of blood on his.

She didn’t even wince in pain.

“You revived me with the yang Chakra inside these blades?!” she screeched.  Her hand snatched the sheathed katana swords from Itachi’s grasp.  “Do you have any idea what you have just done?!”

Itachi sat there, his black eyes stern.

“I saved your life,” he growled simply.  “You were dead; but I brought you back.”

“It would have been better if I stayed dead!” Shiro snapped, yelling in the shinobi’s face.  “Baka!  Now I don’t have any ounce of yin Chakra in my system anymore!  I’m like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode because you poured the yang Chakra from these to me!”

Shiro shook the katana scabbards in front of Itachi’s face.

“Baka!”

The girl lost the grip on the sheaths, her nerves connecting from her brain to her fingers obviously damaged from the piercing wound.  The slick blood made her grip slacken and the lack of control in her fingers resulted in the katana to tumble down on the floor next to her.  Shiro stared at the blood-streaked sheaths, more hot tears cascading down her cheeks.

“Baka!  Now Yoru will never be saved…!”

“If you died, your sister would have had zero chance of escaping Orochimaru!” Itachi snapped back at the distressed samurai.  The girl ignored him, crying her salty tears into her ever-bleeding hand wounds.  “Do you think I don’t want to die, either?!”

Shiro’s face snapped up to confront Itachi’s, her black eyes, now rimming in a silvery white, widened in horror.

“You have so much to live for…” she murmured, her voice wispy.  “Your otouto…Sasuke-san…you still have to explain everything to him…”

“And you have your own things to explain to Yoru-san,” the shinobi retaliated sharply.  He took a deep breath, evening out his voice once more, before facing the girl again with narrowed eyes. “Now, since your entire body is overwhelmed in yang Chakra, how much time to you think you have to…live?” His voice caught at the last word, his mind seeming to refuse the fact that her death was inevitable.

“Otousan said that Okaasan was always sickly, because she had a little too much yang Chakra inside her system…he said that about sixty percent of her Chakra reserves was yang; the other forty was yin.  Since her body was dominated slightly by the white Chakra, Otousan said that her lifetime would be cut back by fifteen years…”