(Disclaimer) I do not own Naruto. Characters and setting copyrighted to Masashi Kishimoto. All rights reserved, etc, etc. The plot and any character unrecognizable from the manga or anime are mine as well. Please do not use anything that falls underneath those categories without my permission. I am writing this for the sole purpose of entertainment and am not making any money off of it.

(A/N) My second multi-chapter SasuHina fanfic! (n.n) The summary is from X/1999. When I thought this fic up, I just had to use that line... Beware, character-OOCness and angst and violence and smut scenes later on and more violence and blood. Lots of it. Hope you like red wine. I'll be serving it fresh.

Their destiny was foreordained...

Fallen from Grace
Taiyoukai Lady

-

Prologue

Devil born, he shall be
Feared by all, hated by many
Darkness will cling to his every word
Death will obey no other sword

Angelic and cheerful, symbolizes her
Fallen from grace, yet still graceful and pure
Shadows swirl yet cannot taint
This light that shines, never dim, never faint

She will be the light
That guides his wandering soul
He will be the dark
That protects her heart's shine

For him, she shall die
For her, he shall kill
Until there is nothing left
To slay

Until they find within each other
The piece that so complements their own
The world shall find that happiness
Is a wistful myth of the past

The scream was ripped from his throat and he could feel the hot tears streaming down his cheeks. He barely felt the pain in his leg anymore or the arms of the people around him, the yells for him to calm down. He would not calm down. She was in there. She was in there!

“Someone sedate him!”

“Hold him down!”

Suddenly, he felt a sharp sting on his neck and he immediately felt sluggish. “No... she...” He slumped into the arms of the people holding him back. There was a collective sigh of relief.

“No...” he whispered.

Something held him and whispered into his ear, “I'm sorry... but she's dead... she's dead. You can't help her anymore.”

His body shook and the entire crowd was silently sobbing along with the young man as he wailed out his sorrow.

-

“No... that... that can't be true!” His expression was distraught as he stared at the doctor. The doctor wanted to bite down the words he needed to say and assure the man his wife was fine, but that would be lying.

“I'm sorry, but she had a severe concussion. Couple that with a pierced lung and...”

The rest of the people just watched sadly as the man cried.

-

He couldn't cry as the casket was lowered into the hole in the ground. He was already out of tears. For some reason, this scene was familiar to him, as were these feelings, and he bitterly regretted anything wrong he'd ever done.

He'd lost her again.

-

Again...

Again...

Again...

-

Flash... a bullet through her head...

Flash... a sword through her neck...

Flash... her beating heart ripped out...

Flash... her screams as she burned...

Flash...

Flash...

Flash...

He didn't know how much longer he could take it.

-

It seemed too familiar, this scene. How many nightmares had he awoken from with her name at the tip of his tongue, blood all over his hands? Her blood. This time, her head had been severed, and her eyes were glazed with death.

He wanted to just die right there and then. Stop this pain. Stop this sorrow. Stop it...

When he passed by, it was simply by chance, his master later explained. He'd felt the wildly flaring chakra and decided that, as he was going there anyways, to check it out. The offer to change him had been completely impulsive. The agreement had been expected.

You can wait for her to be reborn again and keep your memories, he said. You can see her again without having to start over.

It had been a once in a lifetime – no. A once in a thousand lifetimes' chance.

He accepted.

In the following weeks, the papers blared the shocking news of one death after another of the world's most powerful politicians. War erupted and the rivers were dyed red.

Among them walked once again legends of the past, demons of myth. The famed New York Times ran an article titled 'Return of the Darkness'.

It was the last article the newspaper ever ran.