Disclaimer: cookie, anyone?

A/n uhm yeah, I got another new one. I'm practically digging up my own grave by posting so many stories, but I can't help it! This one is inspired by the movie 'Kingdom of Heaven', though it doesn't really have any connection to the plot of this fan fiction. Another fic where Sakura can gratefully kick some major bad-guy asses!

Enjoy, yall!

Summary: The prince of Konoha was taken captive of an opposing country. Not one knight in the royal army was worthy of retrieving the hostage. But it seemed that they found a strong warrior in a simple peasant. But wait… she's a girl! (sasuke x sakura)

By the Sword

By: ang3Lix

Chapter: the peasant and the prince

A large crowd of spectators surrounded the village town square, where something of importance seemed to be held. Ah, yes. The traditional fighting matches that this township was known for. Many people in this part of town were either great fighters, or big gamblers. Ether of which, this village was clearly peaceful, and brawls between fellow villagers rarely came up.

In the very heart of the escalating crowd, two figures were present. Both were standing on different corners, a good length apart from each other. The appearances of both ranged in variety.

The person on the left corner was dressed in the usual armored clothing, his head covered with a metal helmet for protection. His face was swathed with a dark cloth, hiding his appearance from everybody. Only his eyes were visible, narrowed in aggression. In both hands he held a ragged sword, the blade seemingly dull and it already lacked luster. His body weight was shifted on his right leg, which was advanced forward. It he looked as if he was ready to kill.

The other one can be regarded as simple. Simple, yet equally mysterious. A flowing scarlet cloak draped his whole body, which held no armor at all. The hood that came with the cloak sheltered most of his face from prying eyes. But what really concealed his appearance was an ivory white mask that was plastered on the upper portion of his face, framing his striking orbs that oddly contained serenity.

It was obvious that he wasn't known in this town, for the crowd was struggling to contain their curiosity. Never did they witness this certain man fight in public. They knew that fighting with cloaks will only limit your flexibility for it was clearly a great discomfort. Not to mention a hindrance. Many bets were already placed on each warrior, but yet, a few people only trusted this outsider's skill. Well, it was surely expected, because the man he was supposed to fight was the supposed to be 'strongest' out of all in the town.

A random onlooker tossed a sheathed sword on the cloaked figure's direction. A hand shot up, seizing it deftly. The section of the cloth that covered the stranger's arm slithered down, revealing a fine stretch of porcelain-like skin. He grasped the sword by the hilt and pulled it, and tossed the scabbard back.

The sword was new, the blade gleaming the crowd's reflection. He positioned the weapon parallel to his body, as he took a fighting stance.

A ragged looking man that was once engulfed into the crowds staggered forward. His constant swaying and blood-shot eyes told all that he was drunk. Not to mention that he reeked with the strong smell of sake. Raising a calloused hand, he said,

" Let the fight commence!" he shouted, as his hand fell from its position into a cutting motion.

With a battle cry, the armored fighter attacked, only to have his weapon blocked easily.

A man in his early twenties stood quite impatiently infront of the doorway of his house. Once in a while he would tap his foot against the floor, sometimes taking glances at the clock tower, which was conveniently visible in this side of town.


Where in the world is that girl!

He watched with narrowed emerald orbs as the longest hand of the clock started to tick away its remaining seconds. He was much like an awaiting time bomb, with the intent to explode in an intended time. Right now, it will only take seconds for him to finally erupt…







" SAKURA, YOU IDIOT, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU HIDING AT!" he bellowed, startling the passers-by around him near to death.

The heavily armored man had his back bent forward, one knee knelt on the stony ground, and his sword nearly imbedded on the flooring, using the weapon for support. Though it was not clearly visible, his continuous grunts and fast-paced breathing told all that he had difficulty in breathing. His metal armor was nothing but a piece of scrap metal by now, and it possessed such numerous slashes and scratches. The metal vest covering his chest was blasted inward, because of the powerful punch kick (1) that landed on his upper torso. His metal head gear had also been pushed in on the side, when the cloaked stranger had quickly executed a roundhouse kick (2)that knocked him out or a good 30 seconds, just a while ago. Luckily, he was able to pull back into consciousness before he was already eliminated.

The other stood on his own corner, his sword gripped by one hand, which was positioned in his side. With a flash of red, the cloaked one stood before him, looking down at his prone form. He stiffened severely when he felt the others presence infront of him. Not only that, but with so much speed?

His knuckles turning ghostly pallid, his hand automatically clutched his sword tighter. With a strangled cry he was about to thrust his sword up to his opponent's neck, but he found he was unable to move. He felt the cold tip of a sword touching the back of his neck lightly, though he could feel it push itself little by little into the surface of his skin. Apparently, the unknown fighter had avoided his thrust by turning around to his side with such grace, his cloth billowing behind him elegantly. It was then that he brought his blade on his flesh, which led the armored man into this predicament.

The drunken 'referee' analyzed the situation, and shouted out, " We have a new champion!" with this, most of the crowd groaned with the loss, for it also meant losing most of their gambled money as well. A few cheered noisily. " The winner, uh… what's your name again?" he called to the man in red, scratching his bald spot carelessly.

He tossed his sword to one side and brought one hand to the other fighter's face. With a forceful tug, the metal helmet detached from its owner's head along with the cloth, revealing a swollen cheek, a thick black ring that surrounded one eye, and a nasty lump on one side of the head. He looked pretty dazed out (not to mention repulsive), slightly swaying from his position. The victor smirked in satisfaction.

He lifted a finger and hooked it into his white mask, as it peeled off his face. Seizing the hood with an unused hand, he pulled the top downward, at last, revealing his face. Long locks of roseate hair twirled away, as sparkling emerald orbs looked back at their flabbergasted expressions. She smiled playfully at them.

" Haruno Sakura." She answered.

" IT'S A GIRL!" a random onlooker shouted in surprise.




" Oh god… I'll do anything to be his boyfriend…"

" Keep dreaming dork, I'll be his boyfriend!"

" Shut up, ass-face, you forgot I'm the pretty boy in here!"

" SAAAAAAAAAAAKUUUUUUUURAAAAAAAAAAA!" a voice growled from her behind her.

Turning around, the said girl met the angry form of a man, who was a head taller than her. Instead of cowering at his unusually furious behavior, she broke into a cute grin, and said,

" Rei, Rei, Rei! I won! I won the pretty trophy, you dork—" she squealed jovially, jumping up and down, her pink, waist-long tresses bobbing up and down with her.

" WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'DORK'! I'M YOUR OLDER BROTHER, YOU DISRESPECTFUL H—" he bellowed, spit flying and all.

She quickly dodged the onslaught of saliva, and then continued her little speech. " You should have seen it! I kicked his ass so hard it knocked him back to his kiddy years."

The man growled. That was not what he wanted. He never intended to get whopped on, by a girl, more to that! What in the world would the other warriors thin of him, a weak push-over? And the comment just made it all worse than expected. " Why you little bitch! Get your ass over here and I'll give you some real beating—"

Rei's equally emerald eyes flashed dangerously, as his head snapped up with the comment. His tousled night-blue hair bounced with the sudden movement. " Say that again and be ready to die, you shit head bastard." A piece of pebble was being trapped between two of his calloused fingers.

" You ain't nothing but a weak piece of—" the man's words were cut abruptly when he felt something imbed itself into the juncture where his collarbones met, bringing forth extreme pain in the lower throat. The joint was completely exposed, for Sakura already wrecked the piece of metal earlier within their match. He ended up coughing on the ground, his hand trying to will away the pain by massaging it continuously.

" Were going home." He said firmly to sister, who nodded silently.

When the town square was no longer in sight, she let out a tired sigh. The surroundings became less crowded, for they were heading back to the more serene parts of the town. The noise-filled stalls and stands were slowly transformed into small cottage houses, the streets filled with kids running around. Sakura stared idly at the nearby lamp post that flickered its light, as if winking at them.

" Sakura, you are so in trouble you midget—Oof!—DAMN IT! WHAT—" Rei felt a light body weigh him down, a pair of small arms lightly wrapping themselves around his neck. He heard his sister stifle a small yawn, as she slumped her head onto his back.

She yawned once more. " I'm tired, niisan… can you carry me home?" she asked hopefully, peeking above his shoulder.

At first, he looked doubtful (which was a clearly a fake expression), but then he broke into a soft smile. " Sure. Although this one's the last time you midget." He teased, slipping his arms under her legs.

" Thanks a lot, dork…" she whispered, as she contentedly closed her eyes, her dreams claiming her instantly.

" Come on, otouto, you gotta do better than that!" a mature voice taunted jokingly, his tone of voice full of mirth.

But it seemed that the other was not at all happy with all the jeers being thrown at his direction. " Shut up, Itachi!" he growled, as he once again thrusted his sword in the other one's throat, only to be blocked quickly.

" Now, now, Sasuke, no need to be all angsty. You can't take a joke, can't you, you little twerp?" the older of the two asked him, chuckling softly when he saw his younger brother react with the old childhood nickname he used to use all the time.

" Shut up, Itachi!" the younger one growled once more, feinting to his left, bringing up Itachi's defense. He then swerved to the right, as he slipped the sword right under his brother's chin, parallel to his throat.

" Well, at least I know you've been practicing." Itachi said, amused by Sasuke's sudden boost of skills. He dropped his sword onto the ground, as it clung to the ground with a soft 'thump'. Sasuke instead sat on the grassy land, his breaths becoming more and more stable. He watched the sun dip itself into the horizon, mixing a soft orange with the light blue of the sky. Soon enough, Itachi joined him, as he eyed Sasuke's sword with interest.

" You used it?" Itachi asked, running a finger on the surface of the gleaming sword.

Sasuke nodded briefly, " I thought I should at least get used to it."

The young Uchiha's gaze swept through the bright jewels that were imbedded on its metal surface, the delicate carvings that adorned the hilt. His father had given the sword to him as a birthday gift when he turned fourteen. Sasuke knew his father had a hobby of giving gifts of great value. It was all part of governing the whole country by himself. Sasuke ran a finger on his family's crest, the traditional fan. Simple, yet extremely complex in meaning. Just like the two princes of the whole kingdom. They appear to be simple creatures, but their personalities are simply too intricate.

Uchiha Itachi and Uchiha Sasuke. Both are legally heirs to the throne, though only one can be pronounced as the king of all Konoha. Both are extremely alike in physical aspects, though they have very different personalities.

Itachi was clearly defined in one word: gorgeous. He was in his early twenties. His jet-black eyes can see through almost anybody's façade, it reads through emotions like an open book. His long tresses were brought together in a low ponytail, while some unruly bangs fell around to frame his angular face. His pale skin contrasted the color of his eyes.

Sasuke was like a younger version of his older brother. Fifteen years of age. His raven hair, as funny as it seemed, was sticking out into different angles, a few bangs framing his face. His image of course still held that boyish qualities. His onyx orbs glimmered like dark jewels, though most of the time, it held a cold glare.

But Itachi smiled a bit more. Sasuke was more comfortable on putting up a stoic face, and never smiled at anyone. But everyone was sure that when he did, it will melt everyone's eyes out.

Something that is similar to both is their expertise in fighting. Both handles weapons very well, and they posses the knowledge of most arts. They were regarded as the most powerful in all the land. Both shared a brotherly bond with one another, though it consisted mostly of bickering and taunting. They knew that was the only extent of their brotherhood, but they were satisfied with that.

But let's go to a much more hilarious side of their life. Both posses such great looks and talents that girls are magnetized into both. It was like this: the female population was divided only into three: girls who worship both princes, girls who worship other guys, and girls who worship none at all. The most numerous among the three divisions were of course, those who admire the two royal bloods. Then comes the girls who had other guys in mind, though most of belonged to the royal army. The group of anti-worshippers was not really taken account, for their number was only rounded off into a prick.

The two really had no eyes for women, though Itachi had given a few compliments to a few. Sasuke was completely ignoring their existence. He treated them as if they were chickens that only lived for a years, then they would eventually die on a butcher's hands. He believed that their purpose in life is to do chores, and that's it. Well, he never really met a woman that fought for something else other than cosmetic products. Even her mother, the queen never, had the time to learn any fighting skills. So with that, he was bored.

They felt a familiar presence approach them. Itachi spoke, " Kakashi, do they need us back in the palace?"

The masked man with stacked up sliver mane answered, " Yes, Itachi-sama. The king asked for a meeting with the army, along with the two heirs."

" You really do a great job of leading the royal army. I never thought a pervert like you would do it so easily." Sasuke commented, smirking at him.

Both saw a crease forming on the surface of his dark mask. He was smiling. " Well, Sasuke-sama, reading R-rated novels helps me a lot with my job." He answered nonchalantly. " That's why I'm the army's captain."

" Good one, Kakashi." Itachi said, pretty much amused by his answer.

" Pervert." Sasuke muttered, as he stood up and made his way towards the palace.

A/n chapter one is done! It was, I admit, very tiring to write. I hope you enjoyed this fic. No sasuke x sakura interaction in this chapter, I'm really sorry. Next time, maybe? But not that soon.

(1) punch kick- its somewhat like a kick forward, it aims on the stomach, and the heel is the one that kicks, not the surface.

(2) roundhouse kick- a kick to the head. much like the 45 degree kick, only higher.

Please read! (and review, if you ever have the time)