A/N: pridefall(dot)livejournal(dot)com, as always
There is a nasty word she would like to call Orochimaru, but she can't
really think of it at the moment. The time just...doesn't seem right. Doesn't
seem...real enough, yet.
They've won the war, but...It doesn't seem to mean anything. One less
country to deal with in the grand scheme of things. A small, insignificant
country that barely made any impressions on the Great Five aside that
it's leader could, if he had ever wanted to, topple any country that he saw fit
to get rid of.
And now, nothing. The Sound is gone.
To watch an entire country fall...It's not as spectacular as it sounds;
almost the same as watching a pyramid of glass cups fall to pieces, or a giant
stack of jenga blocks slowly topple over; a moment in time that might seem
poignant for about a milisecond and then just ends up being a great big mess someone
sooner or later is going to have to clean up.
Watching the Sound Nation eat itself from inside out is much the same,
she thinks. Orochimaru played his cards wrong. That was all. They won because
Tsunade had outsmarted the one man she could read better than any open book or
scroll in her office.
When they bring him to her, she doesn't quite know what to say.
The first thing that comes to mind is 'traitor', but the Snake only owed
allegiance to himself and none other -- disavowing all knowledge of any other
powers in the world aside from his because they were too afraid to be the
monster that he was. To cut through the veils of the world and peer into
the dark stage behind everything. Into the negative.
Orochimaru was a creature of shadows. Tsunade didn't know why the
analogy never exactly seemed to fit him.
The second word that comes to mind when she opens her mouth is
'bastard', but Orochimaru spent a good half of his life running away
from his heritage; from his people; so telling him he had no father would be
like slapping him across the face with a paper fan – ultimately funny for about
a moment before it dawned on the parties involved how petty and childish it
was.
...She sighed. That's almost what it came down to. Petty childishness.
Orochimaru never needed anyone, but he wanted them. Wanted everything.
He sacrificed the things he believed he did not need – humanity, sanity,
even his own soul, Tsunade would say if she were more superstitious –
and in doing so, became...
What, exactly?
What was Orochimaru?
A spirit? A shadow? A dark reflection of what a shinobi could be? He was
no Uchiha Itachi. Orochimaru had too many wants and dreams to ever be an
Uchiha.
So, then...What was her comrade? What was her enemy?
“...Kill the Monster.”
Tsunade settled on the last word that came to mind, the syllables all
whispered through pretty pink lips that had called him harsher things before,
but that no spoke to him like a dark benediction in the night; her dainty hand
moving across the air in front of Orochimaru's neck, cutting it in twine,
giving the order to execute him.
“...Yes, Hokage-sama.”
If she were a more superstitious woman, Tsunade would burn Orochimaru's
body when the deed is done, but she does not. It seems more than enough of a
punishment to have to watch her godson do the deed neither Jiraiya or her were
ever able to do, instead.
- Finis