Summary: He was an assassin who lost his parents when he was six. She was an ex-gang leader who was nearly killed by hers. When they meet sparks fly as they're partnered up for a mission that will change both their lives. SasuSaku

Chapter 1: The Nightmare

Tears ran down her beautiful, pale face mixing with the blood running down from her forehead, where a small cut laid. She was screaming as she fought viciously against the man that held her in place. The screams grew lower and lower the more the leather whip sliced her back, until not one sound was heard from her lips. Dissatisfied, the tall, lean man with the whip stopped as he walked over to her. Roughly grabbing her chin, he turned her to face him only to end up with spit in his face.

Angered, he backhanded her, causing her head to jerk to the side. He leaned down and whispered something inaudible to her. In response her eyes turned to him. Her dark onyx eyes locked into his own dark eyes. He saw all the emotions held within them but two stood out the most. The pain and the terror she felt. He watched as panic flew into her eyes as the man stood, walking towards where he was chained to the wall.

He heard his mother scream and plead with the man holding her as he was unchained and roughly grabbed by the arms. He kicked and struggled wildy against the man and successfully ended up kicking him in between the legs, causing the man to drop him. He landed on his feet and quickly ran from the man who was leaning against the wall for support now. The other man cursed in annoyance as he placed hand cuffs on his mother and dragged her over to the wall, chaining her there as well.

He ran all over the dark, cold, lightless room trying to find a ext, but to no avail. There was no door around. He panicked as he heard footsteps behind him and blindly ran until sunlight hit his weary eyes. He looked to see a crack in the ceiling. A trap door! Excited, he looked for a way up. When he finally found the ladder, it was too late. He was hit on the back of the head, hard, causing him to fall forward and smack his head off the stone wall.

Pain surged threw his head as he felt something hot slid down from where he had been hit. Vaguely he felt himself being pulled from the ground and dragged to the small wooden pole in the middle of the room. The fat man chained him to the pole, his back facing the wall while his chest was against the spikes that stuck out of the pole. Not even a moment after his shirt was torn off him did he feel an unbearable amount of pain run threw his back as the leather whip was lashed at it.

He cried out in pain as, from the force, his chest was pressed harder into the spikes, making small circular incisions. He could barely hear his mother as she screamed and pleaded for the men to stop. He just knew they didn't. He continued to be whipped, allowing the spikes to dig further and further into his skin. After what felt like an hour, even though in reality it was barely two minutes, the whip stopped and his limp, motionless, nearly ceasing to live, body was removed from the pole and taken back to where he had been chained to before.

As his back hit the cold stone wall he hissed in pain, his eyes shutting. He barely heard as chains were unlocked and someone was taken over to him and knelt down in front of him. His head was grabbed roughly and his eyelids were forced open. Dark onyx eyes met his own. His eyes fully opened as he realized his mother was in front of him. She gave him a sad, small smile. He couldn't find the strength to return it. It was only when pain flickered in her eyes did he realize that a butchers knife rested against her slender neck.

His eyes turned towards the man behind her, who had a malicious grin on his face. His gave a wave of hid other hand after pointing at his mother. Immediately he knew what that meant but before he could do anything, a dark thick liquid sprayed all over his face and his mother fell forward, her head against his chest. He cried out in pain once more as his back was pressed against the wall and as the incisions on his chest were hit. He heard the two men laugh for a few moments before one of them pulled his mother off him and threw her aside.

The knife was placed in front of his eyes for a moment before it was brought to his hand. He watched as it was pressed lightly against his right wrist and slowly dragged upward, the pressure increasing, the slice deepening, the further it went until it reached his shoulders, where it was sliced across evenly, to his other arm than lightly, at first, dragged back down; the slice deepening as it went down to his left wrist. By the time it reached the pain from the wound was unimaginable. He gritted his teen and bit his lower lip to keep from screaming. It was in vain, especially when the knife was pressed against his neck, hard enough to draw blood.

The lean man didn't slice it however. Instead he stood and moved away, allowing the fat man to hover over him, a black pistol outwardly stretched in his hand, aimed towards him. He closed his eyes as it was loaded and cocked back. Than.....BANG......he slipped into darkness.


He sat up in bed, sweat running down his face and body as he breathed raggedly. He calmed himself down by taking a few deep breaths and reminding himself that it was only a nightmare. A true nightmare, but a nightmare at that. Throwing off the blue comforters, he swung his legs over the bed and got up, walking to his bathroom, where he ran water and splashed some onto his face. He sighed as he took a towel and dried his face, as well as his chest, wiping off the lingering sweat. His hands gripped the sides of the sink as he looked into the mirror, examining himself, in disgust.

He had been around five foot ten the last time he had went to get a check up, a good year ago and it seemed he had grown a few inches to be around six foot one now. Probably the height he would stay at. His body was pale, very pale. All the veins in his body were clearly visible. That wasn't his fault though, at least that's what he thought. He only went out in the day time for school and when he got home he slept til he had to go to work. And if he was off he would work out and train. His face a an oval shape, with a small nose, almond shaped onyx colored eyes, perfectly shaped dark eyebrows, a head of messy black hair and apparently the most kissable, perfect lips, his fan girls, had ever saw.

His body was lean, molded like an athlete, not big like a body builder. He had to weigh a good two hundred twenty pounds now, more than he ever had been. His arms were well defined, his shoulder broad, his chest was flat and shaped nicely, his stomach was ripped, holding an eight pack, his back was sturdy, his waist was slim, thighs muscular and his calves were tightly strung.

He would have had the perfect body, good enough to be modeled, if not for the several scars that coated it. He had a line scar going from his left wrist, across his shoulders, and down to his right wrist. The scar was more deeper as it went up his right wrist and down his left. His shoulders had a perfect, straight even line going across them. The edges of the scar were pink while the rest was a white and it was smooth to the touch.

In between his pecs, two inches up from his belly button and two inches below it, by his waist were the spots were three circular scars laid. They were indented a good two cm into his body. They were both smooth and ragged, the edges pink and the rest white. The edges were ridged, while the inside was somewhat smooth.

The worse, next to the line on his arms and shoulders, was his back. There were four long, ridged scars going down his back, three going diagonal across towards the left and three going diagonal across towards the right. Where the scars met they were the most ridged and rough. Each scar was a pink color, being darker where ever they met and each were about six to seven inches long.

In an attempt to keep people from looking at his many scars he got several tattoos. On his right forearm, somewhat covering part of his scar, was a white and red fan, his clan symbol. On his left forearm was a black circle, that represented both the moon and yang. Under it, in black ink, was the word Night. On his right bicep was a woman's face sporting dark onyx eyes and ten red tear drops that ran down her face. The last tattoo laid on his back, under the scars, a bit above his waist. It was a black whip that spelled out the word Revenge.

He personally hated looking at his body, he thought it to be the most disgusting thing he had ever laid eyes upon, though he was throughly told, by his fan girls mostly, that it most certainly was not. He thought them to be blind. He let out a deep breath and let his eyes wonder around the room.

It was covered with light blue tiles on the walls and on the floor were white tiles with blue U's. The sink was circular and white, having a small cabin under it. The toilet was also white, with a blue cover and the bathtub was white too, with a blue curtain. It was a pretty big bathroom, also having a closet, which laid next to the door to his bedroom. It was where he kept his towels, soap, shampoo, condition, razors and toilet paper. The mirror had a cabinet behind it where he kept all his medicines and things.

His eyes wondered back to the mirror and a pale, green eyed, brown haired face of a man flashed into the mirror and he jumped as he saw it. Taking a dagger from the small hole behind the medicine cabinet, he whirled around, swinging the dagger. Nothing. There wasn't anybody there. He slide his free hand down his face as he leaned his body against the sink. Even when he wasn't asleep that face still haunted him. Turning around, he placed the dagger securely back where it had been.

He than proceeded back into his bedroom, laid on his bed and pulled the covers over himself. For the next half hour he tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable and go back to sleep. Fed up, he slapped his hands on the bed as he kicked off the comforters. He got up and walked to the door leading to the hallway. Just as he was about to leave his cell phone started going off. He went over to the wooden night stand next to his bed and picked it up, answering as he sat down on his bed.

"What do you want?" He asked gruffly, earning a chuckle from the man on the other line.

"There's a mission."

"Be right there."

"See you in a bit than, Sasuke."

"Yeah, bye."

He hung up his phone and put it down as he went to his closet, looking for clothes. He pulled out black dungarees, a black tank top, a black leather belt with his clan symbol as the clasp and a blue t-shirt with his clan symbol on the back of it. He placed them over his shoulder, grabbed his phone and left his room, passing several empty rooms as he walked down the hallway to the stairs.

His home was big enough to be named a mansion. On the first floor laid a lobby, where a set of stairs leading to the second floor lead, as well as an elevator was, a large kitchen, a dining room, a living room, a wash room, an exercise room, and a bathroom. The second floor consisted of a library, an office, around nine empty rooms, each with there own bathroom and his own master bedroom. His property was around five square miles or three thousand two hundred acres in each direction.

His backyard held a large square pool, a basketball court, baseball field, football field, soccer field, a track that wrapped around the football field and a dirt bike trail. There was also a small man made lake, complete with a dock and jet ski. The rest of the estate consisted mostly of a dense forest.

He made a sharp turn as he went to the side of the stairs. Flipping over a loose board, he revealed a metal plate with a keyhole. He inwardly cursed as he realized he had forgot his key upstairs. He ran quickly and got it, placing it in the keyhole and turned, opening the panel, revealing a key pad. Punching in a five digit code, the wood on the right side, next to the panel, shifted to reveal a stairwell leading down.

He took his key, closed the panel and put the board back before going down the stairs. The door closed behind him and the stairwell lit up. He walked down it and came to a steel door with a combination lock and wheel. Left, right, left, left, right, right, he put in the numbers and turned the wheel 180 degrees to the left than 360 degrees to the right than back another 90 degrees to the left.

The door popped open and he walked threw; the door closing and locking behind him. He walked several yards before coming to a two way split. He went to the right and came to a large steel door about fifty feet later. He placed his hand on the scanner to the right and once done the door lifted as he walked threw.

He was finally at his headquarters, where he kept all his items for missions. There was a large flat screen tv, hooked up to a computer that showed him the whole house threw the security cameras plus allowed him to access his computer in the right lower corner of the room. In the lower left corner was a couch and tv with a couple different game systems. In the right upper corner, upper left corner and upper middle part were three different bullet proof steel rooms. The right room had all his different guns and ammo, the left room had his armor and holsters and the middle room had daggers and swords.

He walked into the armor one which held a mirror and couch, like the other two rooms and placed his clothes down as he took a Type four bullet proof vest. He placed his tank top on before putting on the vest. Than he placed a holster around his waist, over his armor and a sheathe like holster on both his forearms and ankles, as he shed his black sweat pants. He took his loose dungarees and placed them on, along with his belt.

He took his t-shirt and went into the dagger room, placing a dagger in both side of his wrist holsters and ankle ones. He last went to the gun room. He placed a pistol in each side holster and two pistols facing away from each other in the back holster. He than took the ammo clips and placed them on the rest of the available space on his holster. He fit around ten of them, each with about twelve bullets.

Satisfied he placed his t-shirt on than walked back upstairs to ground level than went to his room. He placed a pair of white socks on before pulling on his pair of black Nike. He went to his dresser which had a glass top and wooden bottom and opened the two glass doors. He grabbed his silver chain that held his clan symbol and put it on as he put a diamond stud in his left ear.

He placed a silver Rolex on his left wrist, above the holster and took a silver ring with his clan symbol engraved on the side and a black N in middle of it on his index finger. He took a pair of black sunglasses and placed them on before taking a bottle of curve and spraying some on himself. He put it back and closed the glass door as he grabbed his keys and walked back down the stairs.

He grabbed his black leather jacket from the closer before walking out the door, locking it before he went to the black escalade sitting in his circular driveway that revolved around a large fountain. He unlocked the car, jumped in and started the engine. He placed one hand on the wheel and the other hung out the window as he drove down his driveway to the gate that surrounded his house. As soon as it opened he turned to the right and zoomed off towards his destination.

(A/N: Hate it? Love it? Continue it or Not?)