Scarlaluna

The pair of identical cloaks, one large and slumped over its owner’s hunched shape, the other flowing around its wearer ordinarily as one would expect large clothes to be worn, patrolled the path that winded on top of a meadow’s hill leisurely, having accomplished a miniscule task. Sasori and Deidara were their names. Now, some say that in order for the universe to maintain a form of homeostasis, there must be equal balance. Such an example would remain as this: the sun, showing all its splendor and cheer as it gleamed upon the tree leaves and flowers and made Deidara’s hair glow with radiance, was in stark contrast to the hump

Once Kuma-chan was properly assembled inside the closet, hidden quite well, as Gaara proposed, underneath a blanket and some clothes while placed properly on a bean bag chair, he rolled it shut, leaving the much-loved bear to itself. He almost smiled, knowing full well that Kankurou wouldn’t dare mess with him again, and even if he did, he would have to do some searching to uncover the worn-out stuffed animal. He strolled over to the window that contained no glass like most windows in Suna. The afternoon sun was setting, flashing an orange and red blaze over the bumpy horizon. The house was located close by his workplace, so it was never

“Ugh… Kisame, these clothes are wet, and they’re clinging to my thighs.” “Uh-huh.” “…And my ass.” The disgruntled Uchiha twisted his body around to pinch at the annoying clothes. “What the hell did you do that for?” The shark man heaved a powerful laugh. “It was an opportunity I couldn’t miss!” His sharp grin flashed and Itachi became quiet. For a while, anyway. “…I hate you.” “Aww.” The brunette raised an eyebrow Kisame’s direction. His eyes were a cold black. “There’s nothing cute about hatred, Kisame.” “With you, t

“…Temari…” the voice of Gaara couldn’t be mistaken. Temari slowly turned her gaze from the manga she was reading to Gaara standing in the doorway to her room inquisitively. He never came up to her very often for a demand or question or anything of the sort, much less looking as perturbed as he did now. Gaara looking perturbed? Sure, over time he had shown a little more expression in the daily things he did, but not much. Being perturbed was one of them. Very curious, she asked him what the matter was. “It’s Kankurou.” “…Kankurou? What’s he up to this time?” Not too surprising that

Broken. Shattered, like the glass on the windowpanes. Was I an idiot or what? How could I be so stupid? The rain drenched my light shirt, but the tears on my cheeks were just as equivalent to the millions of tiny droplets of water falling down on me. I could still see the face of Ness, staring at me, that look on his face like he didn’t want me. The look as if he was scared, or if he abruptly forgot who I was all of a sudden. And now I knew that was true. All I did now was run. Run away from the pain, but I never prevailed, as it was my hopes, dreams, spirit, and heart that bled. I could never escape my misery. I was a bird, so confident

Kisame bit his lip as he examined the situation at hand. The remaining hunter nin from the Fire Country had cornered the fight to the edge of the cliff overlooking the sea. This man was after Itachi, not to kill him, but lethally damage him and take him back to their village for interrogation and further practices, which may include being locked up for life, death, or possibly something worse. Both he and Itachi were mildly damaged, as these masked shinobi had not been sufficient enough in a comparison of skill and power, even when it was three against two. This remaining one hid behind a white plaster mask that covered his entire facial feat