Thrown into the Dark

Scales

Soramaru didn't get out of bed after the next week. His body ached all over, even more than it used to when Tenka used to "train" him. His headache was back, tenfold. Sakura had been in charge of taking care of him and she panicked over the recent developments. Naruto worried, and Sakura was almost always by his side.

Normally, he would have forced himself out of bed to face the world, and he did, when the illness first rolled in. Honestly, he was good at feigning perfect health. He smiled and acted normally and was able to get past Sakura. That is until her arm barely brushed his, she felt his fever heat, and her fist was crashing down onto his head. A lump grew on the spot where she hit him. "What was that for?" He asked as he rubbed his doubly aching head.

"Go back to bed, right now!" Sakura commanded, as a terrifying red aura engulfed her body. "Yes ma'am." Soramaru said in a small voice before returning to his hospital bed.

Her medicines did little to relieve the pain. Sakura dropped books off to help Soramaru entertain himself, but he was unable to read the characters in the writing of the Hidden Leaf Village. Waves of pain rolled over him whenever he heard the slightest sounds. Sleep brought nothing but nightmares.

Another week passed and most of the symptoms died down. Sakura finally allowed Soramaru to walk around the village again. The sun's light was blocked by clouds now. Soramaru missed the brightness. As he strolled around the village, he heard constant murmurs of a string of attacks on civilians. This caught him off guard, because despite the fact that the Hidden Leaf was a village of ninjas, he kind of felt like it was a nice, safe place.

.

.

.

That night, he was awakened by a tearing pain. He was in bed, gritting his teeth in the darkness. He felt like his skin was slowly being peeled off his abdomen. In his curiosity, he touched belly. He didn't feel skin, what he felt was a scaly texture. Not human. Soramaru's breaths came out in short, shallow gasps. He stumbled out of his bed and flipped on the lights. He lifted his shirt to examine what he had felt. All he could do was stare in horror at the slowly forming midnight scales on his body.

His master had said that Tenka was not really the Orochi's vessel. Now he understood. It was him.... The assaults, it had been him who had committed them. He crumpled to his knees. What was he supposed to do? He was supposed to die.

If he didn't, bodies would pile up and this village that he had come to love would be plunged into devastation. He curled into a ball, he wasn't ready to die. Really, he had so much that he wanted to do, so many people that he wanted to see again. 'Is this what you felt, Tenka?' He wondered in his mind. Is this what Tenka felt before allowing himself to be killed?

The memories that were locked away came rushing back all at once. They came back so quickly, he felt like a physical force had slammed into his head. He could see everything, the shed blood, the people limp on the ground. He caused that! He knew he had to do something to stop the himself, and he knew what he had to do. "Tenka," He said to the dark room. "What am I supposed to do?!" Although he knew the answer.

'I'm not ready', he thought, trying to hold in the tears that were forcing their way through his shut eyelids. He squeezed his eyes more tightly shut, tears trailing down his cheeks. He opened his eyes, "Neither was Tenka." He said aloud to himself.

Love it? Hate it? Please comment! Remember to LAUGH!!!