By Ebony

Warnings: Some mild non-descript sexuality

I have no rights to Naruto


The haze of sun
Drifts thickly through the
Canopy of leaves above him.

The tree he was told not to touch.


With yearning eyes,
He looks up into
It's tangle of thick, bistre branches.

(don't touch it)

His skin is naked porcelain,
And he is beginning to be
Dissatisfied with it;
Dissatisfied with everything he is.


As they glint in the sun,
Nigrescent scales catch his eye,
Sleek and smooth against the branch.

(don't take it)

The Snake gazes down at him,
Flicking its long, damp tongue out a little
To smile.

It knows what he wants.

Its long black body is coiled around
A glossy apple,
Red as freshly spilled blood.

(don't taste it)

And the boy's hand reaches up for it,
Though he retracts, and hesitates,
For he has been told not to touch,
Not to take,
Not to taste it.

The Snake slithers down along the branch,
Fascinated by the boy;
Tempting him,
Taunting him,

He can smell the fruit,
Can almost taste it in his salivating mouth,
On the end of his lusting tongue,
Hidden by virgin lips.

He wants it;
The knowledge, the power,
To become stronger and escape
The weak self he's begun to fear.

(please, don't touch it!)

Child, the snake tells him,
Take it.

His eyes stare at it,
What he hungers for,
And he hears the sonorous voices in his head,
Voices that make him weak
(or so he's told himself)

With trembling hands,

(don't touch it!)

He plucks the apple from within the Snake's grasp.

(don't take it!)

Bringing it down to his chaste lips,

(don't taste it!)

He sinks his teeth into its pale flesh,
The juices spurting into his mouth,
Sweet and sticky as they trickle down his throat.

Hungrily, he takes another bite, and

(please, don't!)


The snake laughs,
Flicking its tongue out against
The boy's joyously soiled lips,
Flavored with the apple
He so willingly devoured.

In his head, the voices fade,
Just memories and childish laughter,
And he is burdened with the knowledge
Of his weak self;
Of his pitiable self;
Of his now tainted self.

He can feel it running through his veins,
Underneath his skin, smothering his heart;
The strangely wonderful blackness,
That is giving him all of this.

The voices inside him are still screaming,

(please don't!)

As the Snake is having its way with him,
Jet black scales cold,
caressing his unveiled flesh.
Wet repulsiveness inside of him,
He feels sick, filthy,
But he can't pull away.

He likes the taste of sin too much.


He takes another apple,
And smiles at the Snake.



End notes: An idea I came across while sick. I personally am not Christian, but I found it interesting, how Sasuke took power from Orochimaru, sort of like Eve taking the apple from the Snake. Sort of.