Weeping Samurai | Uchiha Itachi [Editing]

Chapter 15: Ominous

I do not own any Naruto characters or settings.  I only own my OC, Musei Shiro.

This chapter contains some descriptions of blood.

I hope you enjoy the story of Shiro, the Weeping Samurai of the Land of Iron!

~~~*~~~

A pounding force drove her to the ground.  Shiro's eyes widened in shock, her outstretched arms, reached out and ready to grip onto the next branch, fell limp as she flew, suspended in the air for just a moment before plummeting down towards the earth headfirst.

Her body tumbled in the air, her body unable to move as she strained her neck at an attempt to regain the feeling within her own body.  Her long white hair rushed passed her ears, her pale skin growing whiter as some mysterious force leeched all of the feeling within her flesh out.

It was as though a shinigami was there, sucking the essence called life from her very lips.

Shiro could feel her bones crack as she smacked against the hard earth with a massive thud, her head slamming against the dirt as her body fell limp.  There was a ringing in her ears, an oddly irritating pain throbbing within her temples.  Dazed, her widened dark eyes stared at one particular spot in the lush forest scene, unable to comprehend what lay before her.

It was a young woman, cloaked in what seemed to be a thick maroon robe.  Though her face was obscured by her failing eyesight, Shiro could clearly see the glossy curtain of black hair that fell down to the woman's hips.  Piercing eyes of a certain vivid color bore into her own dull ones.

“Musei Shiro of Umi Gai...” the young woman hissed.  “Shidare no Bushi of the Land of Iron...”

She was paralyzed under the intimidating, almost panther-like glare of the woman, unable to even blink as she stared up at the figure.

“Join us...and your sister will not know any more pain...”

Shiro's thoughts rang with the mention of her sister, her name bouncing off the hollow walls of her skull.  The white-haired woman stared up at the black-haired one, her dark strands floating in the light breeze.

“Yamamoto-sama would be very much delighted if you decided to join..." she continued inauspiciously.  "Your skills will come quite in handy when we capture the Third Key...”

“Yama...moto...?” Shiro grunted slowly, forcing the somewhat familiar name from her stiff lips.  She sucked in a gasp, suddenly feeling her constructed chest release from its mysterious pressure.  “Third...Key...?”

“Wakamura Hisuiko, as we have heard, is quite the weakling,” the strange woman murmured darkly.  “In order for us to property open the Three Gates at the same time, Hisuiko-sama's body must be protected while she is in the Dream Realm; otherwise, anyone may get to us as we're opening the Gates.”

“Gates...?” Shiro gasped, her heart straining, as her body grew ridged once more.  Her hands hooked like claws against her body as she clutched her aching chest, a trickle of blood dripping down the corner of her mouth.

The mysterious woman glared down at the perishing samurai girl with toxic violet eyes before glancing behind her, scoffing.

“We will meet in time again, Musei Shiro,” the panther woman growled.  “Until then...think about the offer Yamamoto-sama has proposed to you.”

Her head tilted back, closing her dark vivid eyes as she did so.  Her hand suddenly slammed into the trunk of the tree next to her, sending a thick cloud of bloody crimson smoke into the air.  Shiro, unable to see anything, shook stiffly on the ground as she heard the light footsteps gallop away into the distance.