She stood wide-eyed, pale, and scared. Her ribs pressed into her lungs, her body trying to fold in on itself, away from what was happening. As her fingers trembled, she felt her stomach churn, ready to send everything inside back up. The sight alone had that affect. The smell was weakening her knees. As disgusting and gut-wrenching as it was to watch, she couldn't look away. She had seen this before, time and time again. But this time, she was seeing him. The part of him she tried to heal, to take away. But.. she was realizing this was such a big part of him that taking it away would leave him with nothing.

Her eyes couldn't move away from him. In the back of her head she knew if they did, she might die. He stood from his crouch and didn't bother to wipe off the cynical grin. He walked up to her, the flames reflecting off of the blood stains that were smeared thickly all over his skin. She knew it wasn't his own. His hands feathered over her arms, her trembling arms. The sick smile still was in place, his eyes were wild. The excitement had yet to die down. Was he done..? She shuddered away, realizing he might not be done yet. That the side she longed to melt away was still dominant.

He might kill her.

And she wouldn't stop him.

He noticed her sudden panic, more intense than the usual fear she had when he was like this. That strange hunger in him grew, he wanted more. His wrist flicked into his pocket and he drew out another blade, stained with old memories. A whimper escaped from her trembling lips. She inwardly cursed herself, knowing that she was only feeding him by doing so. Still, she shook harder, unable to control it. She had seen what he had done before, so many times, so many strangers.

His lips curled out even more, his eyes burning with excitement as the edge opened her flesh and released the familiar red liquid. The stings were strong, the blade being slightly dull. She couldn't help but squeak his name on reflex when he cut her again near her wrist. He froze and snapped his gaze up to meet hers. For a second, a split second, she could see him. He was there, he was seeing. Then he left, blind again.

The sadistic grin reappeared and he brought the shining metal, so cold, to her cheek. Fluidly, he traced it along her skin, letting her blood stain her outsides. She couldn't even feel the warm tears leak from her eyes. She was so scared. She wanted Sasuke back. Then the lightness came. Her legs slowly numbed below her and before she knew it, she was falling. Falling back, feeling nothing. Had he stabbed her? Was she dying? She didn't know. She could no longer focus. Her mind quieted down, she didn't even notice when her body smacked the concrete mercilessly, rendering her unconscious.

That one unexpected moment was enough to pull him back. He quickly got down next to her and pulled her torso into his stained arms. Her breathing was light, ghostly. It wasn't normal. He smoothed down her hair harshly, over and over. He was whispering again and again how sorry he was, how he'd never do it again. But he knew better. He could only wish she would, too. That she'd just give up and leave him, never let him hurt her like this. But then he really didn't want to. He needed her. She was his reason for trying to hold onto his scrap sanity. She was the only one who'd stay by him. The fool.

Her eyes fluttered open, trying to focus on him. Her cheek burned as well as her arm. The vicious cuts were thick and oozing painfully. He pulled her into a hug, his face hiding in her neck. He could only pray that hiding would be enough to kill the other side of him, the side he knew would soon make itself known again. It always did. She cried gently, weakly into his bloodied shirt. She opened her eyes and saw the remains of the body behind him, the man. His stomach wrenched open, arm muscle dissected, eye ripped out, scalp peeled, toes missing..

She clutched him harder and sobbed. He had done this, this monstrous act. He had tortured and slaughtered an innocent man to whom he had no connection to. He had done this. And yet, she still couldn't hate him. She still loved him, despite the fear he struck her with, the danger and constant possibility of death. Was it pity? She knew it wasn't. But she still couldn't think of a reason as to why she loved him, this legally insane man. This beast, this heartless-

No. He wasn't heartless. He loved her. He didn't kill her. He was caring toward her. They didn't need reasons to love each other. They just did.

The clank of metal falling against the street brought her from her thoughts. It was right behind her. She dared to turn in his arms to see what it was. But she already knew. The blade was laying on the ground, his hands were shaking violently. He was going to stab her. He wouldn't of even stabbed her heart. No, the voice wouldn't let him. It would only let him destroy her in the most painful way possible. Her blood-curling screams such a desire, so tempting.

"Please..." He whispered.

She stood, legs still weak. Hesitantly, she backed away. His eyes, large and afraid watched her, begging.

"Don't leave..!" He pleaded.

She continued, shaking her head hastily. "No.."

"I love you..!" He cried, his voice vibrating through her.

"I know..." She cried as well. "That's why I can't.."

"Sakura!! Don't!! I need you!!"

"You need help!!" She screamed back, just as loud and frantic. "You need to get help! You know you're insane!! You've killed too many!" Her body wrenched with sobs.

She ran. She ran to the hospital. Droplets of red trailed after her, marking her decision. She screamed for her mentor, the one who'd understand, who'd take no merciful action, only the kind that'd help. Painless or not. She knew which it'd be. She just wouldn't be able to make the decision on her own. She wouldn't be able to listen to his ranting screams.

The screams that weren't his, the screams he had only heard from his victims. The screams of agony and protest, of scarring, of pain, of suffering. Their final moments as he ripped them apart.

Tsunade would call the police, the doctors, the back up, the syringes loaded with tranquilizers. They'd try to calm him, his frantic mind not reasonable. He'd attack, they'd shoot. The white jacket would be strapped up again and he'd be locked away again. This time, possibly forever. He wouldn't, couldn't be charged as a murderer with a death sentence. His plea of insanity couldn't be anymore real, in their faces..

Maybe she was insane, too. It would be the only sensible reason, excuse a woman like herself could be so deathly in love with such a being. This.. This slaughterer, this torturous being who tortured others for his own amusement. This cynical bastard, literally to the definition by his own hands. Her sanity gone, forever, her sympathy for a sadist.

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I had this dream about eight times already, of the scene of her trembling and him, the psychotic lover, brutally ripping apart a person. It was so vivid, his uncontrollable insanity, her unrequiting love for him regardless of his sins. I had it again last night and just HAD to post it up. It just struck such a chord with me. It wasn't scary, it was beautiful. She knows he could just turn and destroy her, yet she still loves him.

I might turn this into a multi-chapter story, but we'll see. I had another scene in mind of her visiting him in the, erm, happy hotel. Real creepy. But uh, we'll see.

Oh, big favor I need to ask. If you see a story that's extremely and coincidentially similar to this, let me know. It happened with my other story The Robbery No One Noticed.

Thanks for reading, please review;

happy unbirthday

--frumpyrox