𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐄𝐀||•{𝘬𝘯𝘺 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳}•

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄🧸

🦋𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐎 𝐗 𝐅! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑.

🦋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓.

🦋𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘- Uzumaki_Ninto

Love.

It was all you ever wanted.

You had a Husband but, he was abusive. Not in a physical way, it was in a mental way. Whenever you would tell someone that he would abuse you they would call you a liar and a attention seeker because you didn't have any bruises on you. He made you feel worthless and unworthy of doing things. You remember the first time you met him. It was in final selection. He was amazed by how strong you were, he was sweet, energetic and handsome.

You would help him train and give him expensive gifts and then soon, you confessed. You regret it. He immediately started to brag about you to his friends. But yet, you still loved him.. His pink peached colored hair, his scar, the fox mask.... His everything was like a drug. You couldn't get enough of him.

"Sabito San.. " You said softly as you stood in his room, near the door. "What?" He responded, his cold eyes looking up yours. "Dinner is ready my love." He smiled softly as he got up and patted your head. It was strange.

He was being nice..

You watched as he sat down at the table, pray, then eat. "This is delicious as always"...
'Always..?' You thought. 'Usually he would always scold me for my cooking and say how disgusting it was.' This wasn't normal.
" S-Sabito san-" He cut you off.

"You can call me Honey if you want." Your eyes shot wide.
Something definitely was off. Once he was finished eating you immediately rushed over and picked up the plate but soon then felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist. You blushed a bit before looking down. "Y/N.." You heard your husband say softly but sternly/seriously.

"Y-Yes..?"
"I'm going out to fight.." "..b-but.. Aren't you sick..?" ".. I'll see you after... If I survive." He stopped holding onto your waist and picked up his sword, heading out the door. You didn't even try and stop him... And that's when it hit you...

You woke up, gasping for air. You were in you and sabito's bedroom. You got up and walked over to the picture of him next to the mirror, on the desk where he always wrote letters.. You picked up the lamp and started to tear up..

"He didn't survive."