It Didn't Matter

The chidori was something beautiful, even when aimed at her. There was a certain beauty in the cackling blue lightning, the swirling power in a single ball of chakra. It was bright, beautiful, and painful to look at when it was just barely a foot away. It looked, distantly, like a flower, an angry flower with more power than any should have, a flower with angry petals and beautiful sounds.

So it might not look like a flower.

It didn't matter anyway.

She didn't have time to care; she was too busy looking into the dark eyes of the boy aiming it at her. Molten onyx eyes. Insanity dancing with his pupils. Helplessness — not physical helplessness, not when he's aiming a deadly ball of electricity at her, but emotional helplessness. He was but a boy looking for a family. A family he couldn't find. He looked at her with a mixture of sadness, insanity, and relief. She didn't want to know why he looked relieved. Maybe it was the fact that he no longer had to deal with her in his way.

It didn't matter anyway.

It didn't matter because she was going to die. That chidori was going to kill her. Fry her to a crisp until there was nothing left of her. Kill her so that she wouldn't be around to see him get better. Kill her so that she couldn't help others. Kill her to end her.

The dark eyes of the last Uchiha softened, for just a moment. The time didn't matter. The look was just seconds long, perhaps not even, but it didn't matter. Didn't matter because in those few seconds, she saw him protecting her, saving her life, holding her hand, worrying over her. She saw him as he had been and was meant to be.

The chidori cackled with the sound of cracking lightning.

She would die at his hands.

It didn't matter anyway.

She didn't care.