Starchild

Ch 1: Starting From the End

Ugh. This chapter was accidentally deleted by your's truly. So I had to rewrite it. Oh well. I always thought the beginning was kinda...choppy. Hope this "edited" version is better!

WARNING!!: If you have NOT read Moonchild yet, I strongly recommend that you do. The two plots are tied together very closely, and you will most likely be confused...and then think this is one crappy story.

...Well, this may be crappy either way, but just read Moonchild first, 'kay??

For those of you who have already read Moonchild, then read away! And much thanks to those of you who have reviewed for it too!

Disclaimer:...

The world is round, and the place which may seem like the end...may also be the beginning.

- Ivy Baker Priest

This wasn’t how I wanted to die.

This wasn’t when I wanted to die.

The blonde man sneered down at me, before driving a sandal-donned foot painfully into my tender stomach. I was far too tired to suppress my piercing scream of pain.

“Heh. Stupid little girl, yeah. Thought you could take out the Akatsuki’s defenses, yeah?”

I gritted my teeth. “I’m…not a…little girl…”

He snickered, and suddenly, I felt myself being lifted up and off the blood-slicked grass beneath. In a fraction of a second, I was slammed painfully into a large tree behind me. I blinked back tears as my torturer’s face swam in a sea of stars before me.

"C'mon little girl. Spit it out. Who sent you, yeah?"

It suddenly dawned upon me that this brutal man thought I was a spy. Immediately, I began defending myself...verbally, of course. I couldn't land a blow for my life, and especially not on an Akatsuki member.

"What are you talking about?" I shrieked. "I'm NOBODY'S spy! Letmme go! I just want to see the Akatsuki!"

The blonde man waited patiently for me to cease ranting, then socked me nice and hard in the abdomen.

"Sorry kiddo. I know Kisame loves his fangirls, but we don't sign autographs, yeah."

Kami, how I hated that son of a bitch!

"I'm not here for fucking autographs!" I retaliated with double the venom. "I need answers! NOW PUT ME DOWN!"

"Then go find a wrinkly old fortuneteller or something, yeah." And with that, he tossed me roughly to the ground, then drew out a kunai. He pulled me up by the collar, and placed the cool edge of the blade to my throat. I panicked, but his hold on me was so strong, there was no way for me to escape.

"Usually, I'd blow you up, yeah. But since you're so cheeky, I'll let you bleed out in pain instead, yeah." He smirked, one bright blue eye burning with a killer's intensity. I opened my mouth to scream...but not to beg for my life. Nothing would ever reduce me to that, no matter how weak I was.

The knife moved.

I didn't even feel the pain at first. It was like I'd just detached myself from my body, drifting up, up, and up, completely unfeeling and oblivious, watching a cascade of crimson wash down the front of my body as the blonde criminal walked away calmly, smooth hands painted red...

The searing agony jerked me back roughly, like a puppet dancing to her master's strings. It was blinding, electrifying, like fire in my veins. I didn't even hear myself screaming...only knew that my mouth was open and my throat was feeling raw.

One word registered in my mind though, tumbling from mt mouth and into place like a puzzle piece in the correct spot, standing out from my jumble of incomprehensible shrieks.

Tsukino.

The last thing I saw was the blonde man's form rushing back to me, fear and shock dancing in that crystal eye, before I slipped from the brink of unconsciousness.

Even so, I could feel a faint grin tugging at the corner of my lip.

I'm close. I can feel it.

His footsteps echoed off invisible walls, fading into the scarlet atmoshpere. A single moon glared down at me, it's blood-drenched face so unlike the comforting silver one upon which I often gazed at as a child.

"What do you want?" I cried shrilly, my voice steadily rising by intervals. "Stay back! Go AWAY!"

He ignored my frantic pleading, as if he didn't even hear them. His pace remained the same, like an execution drum foreshadowing doom...and death.

And then he stopped.

I peeked out from behind my raised arm, and saw him reaching inside a plain, black cloak. Something shiny caught the light coming from a source I could not determine. Slowly and steadily, the man pulled out the object out completely, and continued his smooth walk towards me.

It was a knife. A long, silver knife.

I panicked like I had never done before, yet I was rooted to the spot, paralyzed by my terror. The man drew closer, and closer, knife clutched loosely in his hand. As he neared, I could make out something carved onto the edge of its blade:

Aishiteru.

Confusion swelled up, pushing against my fear. For some reason, the panic and terror were ebbing away, like poison being drawn from a wound. It left me in no further peace though, for the horror had been replaced with a sense of urgency, a knawing, desperate notion to...understand. For the first time, I dared to look up into my "attacker's" face.

It was blank; a plain mask of the purest, darkest black, seeming to leak from his the farthest depths of his soul.

Blank...except for a pair of crimson eyes, reflecting the sky and moon, weeping blood...and yet, they were apathetic and indifferent.

His eyes filled me with despair, with sorrow, with confusion.

His sharingan eyes.

My eyes.

THWACK.

Thud.

"But Deidara-senpaaaiiii —"

"I said, stay back Tobi, yeah!"

I squeezed my eyes shut so hard, I thought my eyelids may rip at any second. All the noise was like a gazillion little hammers pounding at my head, which, by the way, was aching fit to burst.

Footsteps were approaching, and I was relieved to find that there was no ominous echo accompanying them. Hopefully when I opened my eyes, the sky would have reverted back to blue, it's azure expanse punctuated with a silver moon.

The footsteps stopped, and I knew even behind closed eyes, that the owner of the feet was right beside me and the bed I was sprawled in.

"There's no use pretending to be asleep."

Against all self-discipline, I cracked open an eyelid, only to find myself swallowed in a pair of the strangest eyes I have ever seen. They were a clear, piercing blue, adorned with concentric rings, and undisturbed by eye-whites, irises, or pupils. He had an aristocratic and young face, but the effect was ruined by the two eyebrow piercings on his left eyebrow and the silver stud beneath his bottom lip. Flaming orange hair and a heavy, black cloak adorned with scarlet clouds topped off his strange appearance.

He smirked down at me, his thin lips twisted into a faintly sinister grin. He reminded me of a fox, planning out how it would catch and devour the rabbit...and yet it suited him well. Now that was creepy.

Suddenly, he was shoved aside rather brutally with a harsh "Out of the way, Arashi," and was replaced my a...shark?!

I almost pinched myself when it started talking.

Well actually, it grabbed me by the throat and slammed me into the wall first.

"Talk, kunoichi," he/it snarled. "Who sent you? How do you know about Tsukino? Who are you?"

I gasped pitifully like a fish out of water, clawing at my offender's blue, meaty hands, obviously unable to reply. He must have gotten the message, because he released the pressure...a tiny bit. All the while, I was frantically racking my brains for an answer. I was in the company of the Akatsuki, held at the throat by some freakishly large mutant fish, and may have my weak little neck wrung at any moment.

Think Hoshiko, think! There must be a way out of this! Think!

Too bad I've never been any good in the intelligence or strategic department. So I went for the pathetic "exaggerating the truth" technique instead. I lied. Impressive, huh?

I tried my best to fake a smirk, and then took on an arrogant tone. "I'm sure Tsukino would not have wanted you to threaten or harm her daughter, hm?" It was a stupid gamble. Just because my mother told me to find the Akatsuki didn't mean they would know her. In fact, she might have been their worst enemy for all I knew. My little fabrication was one hundred percent bluff...

...And yet it worked.

Shark Man dropped me like a stack of bricks as if he'd been burned, and I crumpled onto the cot in a miserable heap, trying to mask the fact that I was beyond grateful for being fully alive and breathing. All around me, the Akatsuki members were whispering amongst themselves.

"Tsukino? Does she mean—"

"Of course. Who else?"

"That's impossible. Yes, I agree."

"I haven't seen..."

"Look! Her eyes, yeah!"

Immediately, six faces crowded around my bed, the eyes belonging to each trained intently on my own. I winced. Gee, thanks for pointing that out...jerk.

My eyes have been the subject of ridicule amongst many for as long as I can remember. And yet, who could blame them? I was a freak in that sense. I mean, one purple eye and one onyx eye is like...like...well, one purple eye and one onyx eye! It just doesn't happen! And yet, it did for me. Kami, why me? And the wierdly coloured eyes were only the tip of the iceberg: I was ridiculed most of all for my...lack of ninja abilities. Translation: I sucked ass whenever it came down to fighting. My chakra control was atrocious, not to mention my chakra store itself was practically non-existent.

"Five yen to anyone who can guess who the black eye's after, yeah."

A sudden hush fell over the room, and I could see a couple members nodding their head knowingly. Something tugged at my stomach, and

Luckily, I was saved by Shark Man, who broke up the crowd with an annoyed "Okay, that's it! Everybody OUT OF MY WAY!" Then he turned his disturbingly blue face upon me (I was trying hard not to stare at his sharp, shiny teeth), and said in a much clamer and civilized manner, "Don't get ahead of yourself. Just because you have a...peculiarly coloured eyes doesn't automatically mean the Akatsuki trusts you. We need more proof."

I resisted rolling my eyes with frustration. Then I turned to the blonde man in the group, recognizing him as my previous tormentor. He returned my gaze evenly, but the murderous glint in it was replaced by something no unlike...admiration?

"Where's my sword?" I asked with the steadiest voice I could muster.

He appeared relatively surprised, but left the room to fetch it anyhow. As he left, Shark Man glared at me suspiciously.

"This had better be good," he intoned threateningly. I didn’t reply. To be frank, I had no idea how old and battered Kenketsueki would prove my identity once and for all. Sure it had belonged to my mother…but would they recognize it?

Swiftly, the blonde man was back in the room, the aged and pathetic-looking sword balanced on two up-ward-facing palms. I noticed they had mouths on them, and forced myself not to shrink away from his approaching form.

Gingerly, I received Kenketsueki (unsuccessfully avoiding the mouths; its protruding tongues brushed my hands, leaving them with a disgusting, wet feeling), and unsheathed it, with the air of unveiling a gift to the gods. Apparently, my reverence impressed no one. The sword may have been significant to me as it was the only thing left in the world to remind me of my mother, but these S-class criminals only wanted the proof.

Finally, I freed Kenketsueki from the sheath, and held it out to Kisame. "This was my mother’s sword. She left it for me before she died. Happy now?"

Slowly, the blue shinobi reached for it, but I pulled back. "No. I don’t trust you."

He raised an eyebrow, but did not protest. I held my breath nervously, coming to the realization (too late!) that my lack of cooperation would make me seem suspicious. But Shark Man nodded curtly to the others in the room, and turned to face me. "Welcome, daughter of Tsukino."

I almost laughed at the dub, but decided not to be stupid for once. Instead, I tried looking as lofty as possible, and replied huffily, "I told you."

Shark Man ignored my comment. "So. What brings you to out humble abode?" He grinned a razor smile. Literally.

"I need answers."

"I’m fully aware of that. Deidara has already informed me." I glanced at the blonde man who had almost killed me. He grinned sheepishly, appearing a bit goofy for his age. I didn’t smile back. "My point is," continued Shark Man. "what are the answers you are seeking?"

"Uh, if I knew that, I wouldn’t be here, now would I?"

The Shark Man bared his (deadly) teeth again, although this time I was pretty sure he wasn’t smiling. "Please do not make this any more difficult than it needs to be. Why couldn’t you have inherited your father’s attitude instead of your obstinate mother’s?"

I ignore the slur, for I had heard the magic word: father. Immediately, I leaned (flew) forward, barely restraining myself from grabbing the front of the large shinobi’s cloak. "Father?! You know my father? Where is he?"

Suddenly, it occurred to me that my father could have been in this room since the very beginning, watching my every move yet completely unaware of the fact that I was his daughter. The realization sent chills down my spine, and I scanned the room tensely, searching for a face not unlike my own. Okay, let’s see…Definitely not Venus Flytrap over there. And Arashi’s too young. I seriously doubt that psychotic blonde guy with the mouths on his hands is my father. There’s no way I’m even close to being related to him…I hope. And Tobi is just…never mind. Hmm. That silver-haired guy in the back with the dangerous-looking scythe is a possibility. Maybe.

…Oh Kami. Please don’t let my father be Shark Man. Please. No more torture.

As if right on cue, Shark Man chuckled darkly. "You mean I used to know your father. By the way, he’s not in the room."

I wasn’t sure whether or not to be relieved. So I opted to jump down his throat (duh. Not literally).

"Then where’s my father?" I demanded. "Where IS he? Who is he? WHO?!"

No one answered. I gritted my teeth in frustration. I was so close...yet it felt miles away. And the fact that no one was talking wasn't helping my temper. "You'd better tell me right this instant. Or I-I'll..." I faltered for a moment. Really, there was nothing a puny "kunoichi" like me could do to six S-class missing nin. That, and I really suck at threats.

"Itachi. Uchiha Itachi." The reply came from Arashi...surprisingly enough. Shark Man shot him a deadly "I'll deal with you later" glare, before turning to me. But I was staring at my feet, unseeing.

Itachi. Uchiha. Uchiha...

I'd always known I was a part of that clan. As far as I'm concerned, they're a dying tragedy. All gone. Massacred. By Itachi. My father. But they say there are a few left in this world. I'd always believed that I was the daughter of one of the survivors...not the murderer. Don't get me wrong. It's not like I have a squeaky clean past either. A stolen pastry here, a vandalised store wall there. But never a murder. Never. But then again, I guess it made sense. My mother and my father were either associated with or acutally a part of the Akatsuki, so that must have made them pretty bad-ass criminals.

And then it struck me.

Could murders love? Could murderers who massacred their entire clan (save a few) at the age of thirteen...fall in love? Could my father have really loved my mother? Or did he–

Stop!! Don't think that! You've gotten so far! You can't turn back! It doesn't matter what he did. He's still your father. You must see him!

I looked up, catching Shark Man's pin-point pupils with my own. Determination was pumping adrenaline through my veins, and I dug my fingers into my sheets, knowing that there was no going back after the question was dropped. I opened my dry mouth, and somehow, the words that flowed out were strong, confident. Like I actually knew what I was doing, where I was going.

"I want to see him. I want to see my father!"

Silence.

Deidara shifted uncomfortably. The silver-haired man in the back swore softly under his breath. Someone coughed. A pin drop would have sounded like a bomb. I glared around the room, my adrenaline-saturated blood pounding in my head, a pulsing drum, unable to be subdued. My head, mind was screaming; and incomprehensible storm of words, thoughts, feelings, detached and making no sense, yet I understood it all...somehow...

...The silence was killing me, the chaos was killing me...

I readied myself for the screaming of my lifetime.

Suddenly, Arashi's voice cut through the silence in the room and the cacaphony picking apart my mind.

"You can't. Uchiha Itachi is dead."

To be continued...

Constructive criticism appreciated!!

-xXsilent-musicXx