Eighteen year old Jounins.
.
.
ANBU.
Eighteen and already killers.
No surprise. No surprise.
They were Leaf's new superheroes. Kakashi's legendary brats. Kakashi's Team Seven. Konohagakure's ultimate killing machines.
Time harassed them.
Years fashioned them into killing machines.
(Perfect.
Be still.
Don't move.
Be perfect.
And kill.
Without remorse.)
Many years ago, they were just kids. They played hide and seek. They smiled. They grinned. They bickered. Green eyes, dark eyes, blue eyes. Cheery blossoms, a fan, ramen.
Oh, the horror.
Oh, they can't stay twelve forever.
Oh, they did not stay twelve forever.
They will grow. They shall grow. And they did.
Kakashi watched them grow.
With tender eye, with loving eye, with sad eye.
He had taught them how to kill, how to destroy, how to rip body parts apart, how to break bones, how to stretch muscles, how to torture, how to be alive, how to control time, how to control space, how to control tears, how to be perfect, how to be broken and be whole again.
And how to read Come Come Paradise.
Wars and S-class missions were haven for them.
Team Seven.
Innocence corrupted. Bodies battered. Eyes that had seen so much horrors, blood, gore, terror, fear, barbarism. They were no longer the dumb holy innocents.
They were angels back then. But they fell. They fell hard. And she fell the hardest. And her wings broke, the feathers scattered. Everywhere. As well as her innocence.
The Avenger.
The Demon.
And the Devil's Bride.
Oh, let's play.
.
.
In a game call life… sex is essential.
.
.
Oh.
Oh. See? There. Over there.
There.
Team Seven arrived.
As usual, Leaf villagers watched as the youngsters strode toward Tsunade's office. They liked watching them. They liked the way blood covered them. The way blood trickled down the side of their faces, the way their hair…
Shining black.
Sunshine hair.
Cherry blossom hair.
…soaked with blood.
And the way their eyes gleamed. Shining. Glittery. Like liquid snowflakes. Like dead butterflies. Like falling stars.
But most of all…they liked the way they licked the blood off their bodies.
He will lick her cheek. She will lick him back. Her tongue will slowly lap up the blood trickling down his cheek.
He will smirk wickedly.
She will smile back sinisterly. Then turn to her other teammate, a fiendish smile in her lips.
Like it?
He will smile darkly, whiskers darkening.
Love it.
.
.
Tear your heart
And let me drink your blood
I want to taste it.
.
.
They had to.
They learned how to love the taste of blood. Enjoy its freshness and bitter taste. They loved it. They had to. Because in the end, blood was all that mattered. They loved the way it seeped through their enemies' skin. They had to. Their eyes gleamed creepily at the sight of it. They had to.
The smell, the taste and the appearance. Even the sound of its drop.
They knew it all.
They loved it.
They had to.
And of course, what they loved the most was each others' blood.
They loved licking each others' blood.
They had to.
Because it's the proof that they were alive.
.
.
I'm hungry for your touch
For your smell
I loved it when you bleed
It makes me wanna drink your blood
.
.
He watched the blood rolled down from her full pouting lips and down to her chin. His sinister dark eyes glittered with sadistic desire to taste her blood and kiss those bloody lips.
She will only smile, lids lowered over smoldering eyes.
.
.
To make life saucier, desire is essential.
.
.
But the worst was Sasuke's desire.
.
.
It all started with just a simple song.
A simple smile.
And a simple dance.
And wine. And memories of love poems and desperate songs. Of a mother and a father, of blood and tears. Of a hopeful girl and a lonely boy. Of a love not returned, of a love scorned. Of a promise of everlasting love which she broke and broke, and broke,
and a heartbroken man who stayed
and hoped.
.
.
Lust
Raging lust
The Bride has come
.
.
A mission that went horribly wrong.
More horrible than normal, than usual.
So wrong that Sakura killed them brutally. More brutally than normal, than usual.
In a way Kakashi never taught her. He never thought Sakura will slaughter in that way. Because, believe it or not… Kakashi hoped that his legendary brats were not monsters.
But hopes were like promises.
Meant to be broken.
.
.
The killing machines from Leaf
They kill with precision
Uncanny accuracy
.
.
Stop.
Look.
Listen.
Look at what they've become.
Team Seven.
Team Kakashi.
Rejected in Hell, criminals in Heaven, monsters in Leaf.
Where should they go?
Where should they hide?
What should they do?
How many times do they have to die?
How many murders should they commit to prove their existence?
How many lives should they scythe?
Look at what they've become.
Aren't you proud?
.
.
Kakashi-kun.
.
.
Aren't they… trash?
.
.
Stand up! Fuck up!
Show no mercy like my jealousy
Kick off! Fuck off!
I'm getting in the count down
.
.
Look.
Focus.
Listen.
Think.
Act.
.
.
So.
They came. They conquered. They lived.
Bloody, silent, brooding, smiling, sneering.
They returned. The people pretended to like them. They had to. Because they're lovely and young and strong and brave and…
Monsters. Beautiful, beautiful monsters.
Who would have thought that Kakashi will give birth to pretty, pretty monsters?
.
.
Am I human?
.
.
They became monsters to deal with monsters.
Behind that beautiful face, behind those innocent green eyes, behind those foxy grins… were demons
(Monsters! Monsters! Oh how
pitiful your souls!)
that roamed the world disguised as an adorable girl, as beautiful prodigy, as the cheerful dreamer.
Life is a game.
Life is a big deceit.
Live it.
Conquer it.
.
.
Yes. I am.
I feel.
I cry.
I desire.
.
.
To celebrate, they decided to visit a nearby bar which sold great strong sake. At that time, there was a live band. Karaoke blasted. Sounds that threatened ear malfunction. But they did not mind. Friends were there too.
Team 10 and Team 8.
Teams that somehow kept their image pure.
But they did not care.
Alcohol was a strong substance. Sweet, tangy.
Sakura, unbelievably, still did not drink alcohol. She hated its smell and taste. And its effects on her male teammates. Sasuke when drunk was even more brooding. Naruto was excessively noisy. And Kakashi was frighteningly pedophile. But though they were males and hanker after a woman's body when drunk, they never laid a finger on her. Nor a hand. They never tried to touch her. Or kiss her.
She hated them.
.
.
Life's a game.
It's a matter of choice.
It's a matter of chance.
.
.
But tonight.
Sakura broke the rules.
She let them touch her.
She let him kiss her.
Sake tasted good. No. The best. She liked it. Asked for another pitcher. Asked for another brand.
Tonight.
Things will change.
Kisses and touches.
Deeper. Hungrier. Longer, lingering…
More.
More.
It began in one night.
Sasuke will never forget this night.
.
.
I've got ecstasy,
But I feel the tear
Is falling down
.
.
"Don't make me cry."
.
.
Hey, kissing their lives goodbye
An' watching the red rain fall,
the wind itself seems to cry
.
.
At eighteen, you're legal.
To drink.
To kill.
To fuck.
.
.
Teamwork!
.
.
Eighteen year old Jounins.
ANBU.
Eighteen and already killers.
.
.
Say goodbye.
Say goodbye.
Innocence corruption
Fallen angel you are
In a shitty land
Of Oz
Say goodbye.
Say goodbye.
.
.
You're eighteen.
They're 18.
.
.
Congratulations.