Inspiration hit me like a truck. Personally, I like it. Oh, and the italics are Inner Sakura (whom I love).
Disclaimer: Nope. I don't own Naruto. If I did, you honestly think Yondaime's name would've been Namikaze Minato?
The air around her is thick with screams and heady with sweat.
The sky above her is red with a sunset half gone and streaked with the first black tendrils of night.
The ground under her is gravelly and slick, dampened with perspiration, with tears, with pain and sorrow and anguish and heartache.
With the blood still periodically pumping out of her.
And all of a sudden, with one hard 'thud' of her still beating (still there, still real, still living) heart, she is twelve and stupid and useless and shallow and pathetic. With one hard 'thud' of her still beating heart, she is twelve, and love sick and shallow and such a damn child!
With one 'thud' of her still living heart she is twelve again, and she is weak!
And she hates herself all over again, spits at her reflection in the glass across from her bed, and she sobs and moans and cries and begs on bended knee "just a little bit stronger, just a little bit more, and then he'll look at me, then he'll see me, then he'll come back and he'll be coming back to me!"
And she hates herself,
And then there is the feel of a kunai through her hair, the rush of her blood in her ears, the weary screaming of her arms at the end of the day.
And then, and then.
The sound of the earth, shattering like glass beneath her fist.
Get up NOW!
Sakura hauls herself to her feet, the wound healing and green eyes ablaze.
'This time, get a good look at MY back!'
He doesn't have a pray, sharanno!
(She limps away, her opponent's body torn asunder with one blow.)
Well, there you have it. R&R, if you please.