He looked at the window from the bed where he laid next to the lover. It was not his lover, no, he was that someone's' lover even though he did not feel it. Truthfully, he didn't feel anything for the man next to him, except for the simplicity of being another human. What he felt was a distorted sense of guilt and undeniable self loathing. He would not forgive his own actions of this night, of letting all the thoughts in his mind clear and be overtaken by the sins of flesh. No, he was wretched, unholy; a monster once again to do such a crime that can only be forgiven between two lovers.

He looked at the window from the bed where he could not make out the stars or the moon. It was another foggy night, inkling that this union was not real. This union was foggy and unsure of its self, just like him. It was a union to disappear in the clear definition of the light that only a star could give. If he only waited till the morning, till the great star was above the ground and shined it's radiance over this quicksand, would all this became vapor. He would be let go in that light of justice. He wouldn't be made to suffer this anymore.

The tight grip of the man pulled him closer to the others sleeping form. The subtle murmuring of 'love you' was thrown into the dark valueless room and he cringed slightly. Of course it was true that the other loved him so, loved him so very much. Loved so much that he stole him away from a life of solitude that he had grown to breathe in like a fish thrown into a bowl of tap water. He was taken away from the assurance of constant boredom that was tied together with the freedom of no one's concern. He was taken into the arms of love, to never be alone, and to always be watched for. Though he never wanted this Band-Aid, the slow poison was taking its course and he had no problem with it before.

He knew perfectly well not to push the other away, though his heart beat slower from the cruelty. He had forced himself to let the man's actions go, even when he had to cry from them, he would cry in silence only. Once he had tried to run away from his captor, only to be dragged back to this cage that the other referred to as their 'home'. The other had been so devastated by his act of rebellion that…he…drugged him and…now there is no way he can even leave the bed without assistance.

With no escape, no love, no hope, all he could do was plan a world far away from the one he was forced into. It would be in a place of mystery and wonder. Full of power, betrayal, love even… and ninja's! Yes, a village he would live in, with missions to succeed in, and villains to fight. In all the battles, the idea of trust, forgiveness, and friendship would be his morals. He would believe in all those that needed him, even though they would find the path difficult themselves.

He would wear the color orange, because he loved the color orange. He would look such the fright though, for a ninja to wear such attention grabbing colors. A smile would always plaque his face, unlike in realty where he can't feel the numb skin that is his lips. His eyes would be full of innocence and hope; unlike…the blue depths of death that hung like mirrors of his soulless self.

Thinking of such a fantasy, he could get through the day without really thinking of where he was, how he was taken by the other every night, or the crying he fell into after such acts. He could use the world as such a perfect escape to the lust and longing the other man tried not hide when staring at him. Yes, the world, his village would be called Kohana, and he'd go there when he couldn't stand being in reality. When the forced and brutal sex was to much bare emotion to think on, he would be in Kohana, in his orange jacket and pants. He would be learning jitsu's to perform for more power. He would become the leader of that village some day, he would be the Hokage.

He could feel the sting of a full bladder bother him, and he would eventually have to ask the sleeping man to help him to the bathroom. Of course the other would be more then delighted to have the position of being a necessity to him, to be needed by him. But he hated the feeling of that helpless assistance. He felt his body become nothing but a weight to keep his sprit on this earth. If he only had a chance, he could make himself free.

He didn't believe that hell would be his destination. God would have been forgiving this time, and give him another life to live. God should anyway….that much was owed to him.

Not wanting to corrupt his will, he decided to hold his body fluids until either he soiled himself or morning came first. Only the wait would be his constant companion now, one that he was more comfortable with then the one who slept beside him.