Blood poured from his lips, both from it's cut, and the remains of his teeth, like crimson drool down his bruised face. Weak moans accompanied the small bounces his head made in time with the kicks to his now broken chest. A heeled boot slammed down, snapping his right forearm loudly, forcing a splash of blood up his throat. The mangled scream somehow forced itself past the compression her hands had devotedly given him during her evening relaxation. His one good eye opened as her pounding wore down leaving her a dormant shadow above his red soaked form, the emotionless expression on her face reminding him more of his Root teammate than her normal demeanor. A wash of orange filled the room just at the sobs that issued forth from her mouth. His shattered neck issued no commands to his body, denying him his one selfish vice remaining to him. Ashamed to break her moment, he coughed out a weak plea.

"… C-could you… you.. Sunset. Want… to see…" She looked to him with tear streaked eyes, almost as if the words from his mouth were in an alien tongue she could not understand. "P-please." He whispered as his body shook from the trauma. He tried not to think how her hands shook when he flinched at her soft touch, still slick and warm from his life fluid, as she gently turned his head to face the orange glow of the setting sun. Silently, or as silently as he could with the wet gurgling issuing forth from his rib speared chest. As the glimmering orb finally set past the clouds he finally turned his view from one beauty to another. Her soft pink hair, fading sadly into gray from the coming night was the first to catch his eye, still as radiant as all those years before when he first met her… before he ruined her life. Those once peaceful green eyes now only filled with pain, it made him so happy when she would give him some, if only to ease hers for a moment. Tears trailed down her soft cheeks, so unlike his freakishly marred ones that would never deserve such freedom as those salty releases she so wantonly gave. She keeled next to him as she watched his broken body fight to remain, to allow her more release, some small moment of happiness. Had he the urge to say it, no matter how horrified she would say so, he knew her release brought a smile. Never the smile he had thought could be his, nor the smile for the one who had her heart, but one that let him know, she wanted this of him. This suffering only one like he should be given. "Thank… you… for… sharing… my sunset with me… I know… I don't…" He spat a glob of dark blood from his mouth, but with so little force it merely rolled down his chin slowly, following the curve of his small smile. "Deserve it… So please." He forced his shattered jaw into a wide smile. "Please, keep going… please, Sakura-chan…. Smile." But he wouldn't get his wish. Only more tears, more pain.

"Naruto… I'm so sorry!" She sobbed out, running out his door, her cries fading into the night as he lay their, waiting for his curse to begin rebuilding her toy for the next day.

No Sakura-chan. I'm sorry. It's not fair for you to play with something so…




He looked perfectly normal the next morning as Sai and Yamato-sensei waited with him, at their usual meeting place. The fact his full unblemished teeth shone forth as she approached, left her both thankful and furious. She had always been of two minds. Her entire life was one extreme or the other. Happiness and Hatred.

She was so happy he was alright, and hated him utterly for not letting her see his suffering she had forced upon him. It was her crutch, her safety, her curse, her desire. The ability to make him feel what she did, to force him to feel what he had caused her that day, over and over, with no chance for retribution. The power he gave her, a man with the ability to level mountains, would let her do such unspeakable things. It drove her mad, with self loathing and almost uncontrolled lust. Oh yes, she lusted. It was her favorite way of making him pay. The best way to see how much he had suffered the next day. She'd excite him, rather easily she always found, his desire for her filled her with disgust and even further want. She'd take him, hard forceful, demanding. Up and down, over his length, forcing her body's pleasure ever higher with his pants and screams. It made her shiver every time he would get so close, and then a snap of a finger, a shatter of a toe, and his release would disappear, letting her go for hours at times, until the very pain forced him to fill her or she ran out of digits to break. He'd get her off so often that at the end, she'd lay over him, panting as he whispered desperate loving words in her ears. The very words she would in turn throw back at him, almost releasing another wave of that sick, demented, gratification as she teased against him, forcing him into need and desire for her, then leaving him to rot. Though it all, and yet hoping that tears would flow from those broken eyes, to prove that was he hurt like she was.

But he refused, and when she asked why, the answer started they're current disposition. A slap, demanding him feel sorry. A punch, ordering him to feel pain. A kick to show him what pain was. A stab, to show what a true bleeding heart. Yet ever onwards, he'd let her, never raising a hand, or voice. Simply accepting her hatred, her fury till he lay broken on the floor. The first time, she had left uncertain if he was even breathing. The man who had been there for her since they were 13, murdered by her own hand. Part of her, the part she liked, was horrified, ready to end her own miserable existence if only for the chance to make amends. The other part, the one that she despised, laughed at her stupid weak side's thoughts, goading her to go back, finish the job. She had refrained on both voices. The next morning came all too soon. Mechanically she rose, readying herself for her day, for the hope someone would enter and take her away from this fucked up mess she called her life. To her good side's horror, and her utter elation the man whose smile brought her to tears was there, as if nothing had happened. To her hated side, the fact he remained standing and healthy, he stood against everything she had suffered and demanded his life. Even now the thoughts of him defying her drove her insane. Or was she already insane?

Whatever the cause, from that night since, she added new layers of blood to his red soaked mats. Sometimes a spray across the walls, adding a bit more color to his dull shabby apartment. Some nights, when that dark side of her was the strongest, that smile grew as she tried harder and harder to force more of that coppery liquid out of him. That side more demonic in her than what he carried loved him for his pain, and his willingness to accept it from her. The weaker side, the loosing side in her slipping battle for control, could only beg for forgiveness, those brief moments where she sat beside his failing body in the setting sun, almost hoping he would just let go and free himself from her. It would break her heart knowing he would grip onto that pathetic scrap of emotion that held them together, hoping that one day she could let that dark side go, and that the world would get better for the both of them... For her.

All that did was make that part of her, that broken piece that had shattered the day their team did, yearn for more of his suffering. Because it loved him, in it's own twisted way, and it would never let him go. He had given himself to her, both sides so willingly.

The weak side was in control right now, he was no threat, in fact his pain filled breaths soothed the hatred in her soul, leaving only the meek little girl that realized she was torturing him to death. His glazed eyes turned towards the direction of the remnants of the sun.

"Why?" The word probably scared her more than it did him. Their words here, in this room, were of two things. His love and sorrow, her hatred and sorrow. Before that three letter word it was almost comforting in how steady it was. The only thing left still unchanged by the world around them, and her actions, and his suspension of action. The last piece of some ruined thing yet too wonderful to liberate. His words only brought her more shame.

"Because I love Sakura-chan."

"Why?" She didn't deserve anything as precious as his love.

"Because… I want to see her smile, even if I hurt, I want to know I made her happy."

"I'm not happy. I don't deserve to be." Fresh tears rose in her. "You shouldn't need to hurt to make me happy."

"I'm sorry." He closed his eyes as the orange pink glow began fading into the grey once again. "But I think Sakura-chan… deserves to be happy, to smile. The only way I have left, it to take her pain." His eyes fell upon her as a smile, no matter how damaged, materialized. So utterly content he was in his suffering for her, she found even that darkness in her shying away from it's pure and loving stance. "Please Sakura-chan, smile."

Unable to contain herself, of her ever building guilt, her love for the toy she eagerly smashed, the pain that had started it all, she broke. Good side, bad side, hatred and love intertwining as she keeled before him, her hands for the first time grasping out to him, not in anger, but in love. Words, desperate awed words flowed from her mouth, despite the torture she gave him only comfort was directed at her. She begged for forgiveness, only to have been forgiven. She begged for him to love, yet love he already did. She begged him to punish her, only to be denied the pain he had endured. She begged for him not to leave her, and he promised he never would. She cried ever harder, knowing that despite this she would return, to feel his pain again. He smiled, knowing he would take it again. It wasn't over, but tonight was her breaking point. If he was still willing, she would make it up to him. She would pull herself back together then help him stand again. She would let him know how thankful for him, his love, and his sacrifice. It would take her the rest of her life. But she knew he would accept it. She couldn't help love and hate him for it more.

It wasn't healthy, it wasn't right. Anyone else would have walked away… been dead by her hand long ago. But she was broken, and so was he. So many parts were missing, so many more bent and misshapen still. But somewhere, in the twisted turning of their insanity, something fit together. Something brought them back from what would have soon become their deaths. Hands flowed over his body as she pulled him back together, a smile more feeble than his own appeared on her face.

They were broken. But maybe together, in time, she would be worthy to accept his love, and give him that smile again. The real smile of the woman who loved him.

AN: I dunno what came over me. Horrible, sappy, angst? Bah! I've been too worried about this barmy convention and the work bills. Not enough goofy fun in my life at the moment. I hope I find enough light hearted interest on this trip to pull a couple of chapters for my other stories. Hell even Fakers! Is having a block or two atm.

Sorry for this weird creepy little story, the lighthearted stuff will return I hope next weekend. Actually heading out the door now. Till then. -Hibiki.