A/N: This just popped into my head and I liked the idea, so I decided to write it down. Written in a short time on the spot, I warn you. I still like it though.

Disclaimer: Don’t own. Can’t own. Want to own. Damn.

They were tools, soldiers used for their disposal. They lived, breathed, eat, slept, died by the rules. Never were they to disobey a command, ever. Disobeying the rules was treason on your people. Treason in the highest regard. It was the highest form of betrayal, distrust, immorality. To break the rules was a sin.

The second they step foot into the academy, they accept the fact that from that day forward, their lives were not their own anymore. They lived for one reason and one reason only:

Defend the rules. Obey the rules. Live for the rules. Die for the rules. The rules were their life, and their life was the rules.

The reason for this life was simple. They were soldiers, they stand or they die.

And in the end, they figured that they were just born to be sinners.

She walked down the deserted pathway of her home town, the snow falling softly to the ground in a hushed silence. It was late autumn, the leaves not yet quite gone. The rogue colors clashed horribly with the desolate color of the dead sky above. It was the later afternoon, almost nighttime, yet it was oddly bright outside, the sun oddly clawing its way through non-existent cracks in the slate clouds.

Her breath came in small gasps, the misty cloud of fog swirling around her with each exhale. Her emerald green eyes wandered around quietly, soaking in every detail. It was quiet, it was deserted.

Her hands were in her light brown coat, the warm trench-like piece of clothing trailing down to her mid thigh. Her normal shorts and leather skirt were replaced with a longer pair of shorts, a pair of black stockings trailing down into her long brown boots. She nuzzled her face into her light red scarf that was wrapped around her slender neck, hiding the mile of milky white skin. She let her blush pink hair dance freely in the inconspicuous wind.

She had never been to this part of town before, yet her feet kept carrying her farther and farther down the tree-lined path. Trusting her instincts, she allowed her feet to sweep her to her unknown destination.

She came up into a deserted field, tall grass growing on either side of the now widened dirt road. Sitting in the distance of the larger field to her right, she saw a mess of black hair slicing the smoky sky. Her face flushed the smallest bit but she was not sure if it was from the sudden gust of chilled air or of something else; something she had left behind long ago. None the less, she walked through the tall grass towards him. It was sort of an unspoken rule that she was the only one who could get near him when he was like this.

“I guess that I became like this,” he said in barely a whisper, “Because of our oath.” She raised a light pink brow at this, but did not question, for she knew already that he would elaborate.

“Never break the rules. Defend the rules. Obey the rules. Live for the rules…” He did not continue his statement, for reasons she could only guess of. “Shinobi Code of Conduct number 47: ’Never disobey a direct order given by a superior.’” He quoted, sounding partially disgusted. Her eyes fogged over. She knew the rules well, all one hundred of them. Rule number 47 was one of the most stressed rules in the academy.

“I had no choice but to listen to him that day.” He spat. “He knew, damn him. He knew that I could not deny a direct order! Part of the ANBU, and a student at the academy. Even though it was personal and had nothing to do with a mission, he still knew,” His voice cracked a bit as he uttered his next sentence. “The price of a life of a shinobi: Rules are Life. Life is Rules. No matter what, always obey them. Even at that age, I never had a choice.”

She raised her hand a bit, but retracted it as she dubbed it better that she did not try to comfort him.

“All of this time, I thought that it was my hatred for him that fueled me. It was his command, his law. I was doomed from the moment he uttered those words to me.” Her eyes fell as she listened to the normally silent man. He was staring down at the stone, one of many scattered about in this field that were all inscribed with a small fan on them.

“Shinobi Code of Conduct number 25: ‘A shinobi must never, ever show emotion. The mission is the only priority.’” Her eyes glazed over yet again, her mind racing to that time back when she clung to him, to his cold body, his iced blood. His dazed eyes, his silent stare. She cried; she had sinned. She remembers that time. Her hair was long back then.

“All the pain that damned man gave me. Never was I to ever shed a tear in front of anyone,”

‘…In front of anyone,’ That means he had cried. He had cried, all alone. Her heart ached. She put a hand, slightly hesitatingly, on his shoulder. Surprisingly and yet not surprisingly at all, he reached over his shoulder and held onto it, squeezing it tightly.

“We’re soldiers,” She chuckled, not one note out of humor. “We’ll stand or we’ll die. We live for the rules. Subconsciously, we’re connected, never to disobey.” She scoffed. “My life story, and yet it sickens me. How ironic,”

He nodded, agreeing with her bitter humor. He gripped her hand tighter; she squeezed it back.

“It was forbidden, you know.” She said quietly. She felt his hand tense over hers; she squeezed it reassuringly. “Leaving the village.” He nodded. Hesitatingly, as if debating whether it was alright to ask it, “If they told you never to leave again, would you listen?”

“Of course.” He said. She nodded.

“If they told you to give up being a shinobi, would you do it?”

“Yes.” He breathed heavily. She bit her lip.

“If they told you to kill yourself, would you?”

He turned to look at her. “’Defend the rules. Obey the rules. Live for the rules. Die for the rules.’” He quoted. She nodded yet again, taking that as a yes. She bit her lip, squeezing her eyes tightly before asking him this. She feared the answer, yet she had no idea why.

“If they told you to kill me…would you?”

He stared at her, his eyes boring into hers.

“I’d kill you, Naruto, Kakashi, every god damned person in this village, and then myself.” She nearly cried hearing him say that. The tone of his voice, the look on his face, the emotion in his eyes; it tore hear heart at the seams.

“What if I asked you to do all of those things?” She questioned.

“You’re my superior, I would have to listen to you. No matter what the command, I would obey.”

She looked at him, her eyes shining in the late afternoon glow of the sleepy field. He gripped her hand tighter. It pained him inside to see her like this. Her face was one of pain and uncertainty, as if she were arguing with herself whether or not to do something.

“If I told you ‘don’t love me,’, ‘don’t care about me,’, ‘hate me’,” Her voice cracked, “Would you obey?”

Turning around to face her, he dropped her hand. She bit her lip, assuming this was his answer. Instead, she felt two arms wrap around her. She felt his warm breath on her neck as he whispered into her ear, his tears hot on her skin,

“If you told me to do that,” he said in barely a whisper, “I would rather kill myself than obey. I would never do that. Ever.”

“You would be committing treason,” She said quietly, her arms holding his forearms weakly. She was staring up at the falling snow. “You would be committing a sin.”

He pulled away from her and stared her in the eye, his charcoal orbs staring into her emerald ones, as if trying to read her soul. She faltered a bit.

“I guess that I’ve always been a sinner to begin with,” he said, turning away. She stood still, watching him walk away in the silence. It wasn’t until the snow started settling and he was almost to the dirt road where she screamed his name. He turned around, and even though she was so far away, even though her voice was small and weak, even though her eyes and her chocked-backed sobs muffled her whisper, he heard her.

“Don’t love me.”

Yes. They were just born to be sinners.

Ja ne,

TrinityFire13Guardian137