First story posted, a one-shot about Sasuke. I sorta like getting in his head, though I have no idea if I portrayed him well enough here. I've always seen him as a character that isn't inherently evil, but more that certain things happened in his life that shaped him into the person he is now. Therefor, I can't believe he would never feel any type of regret at all. I wrote this a couple of months ago, after I had read some manga chapters, so spoilers ahead, I suppose. Other warnings include major angsting (well, we are talking about Sasuke here) and character death.

Disclaimer: I do not own the series Naruto, nor do I own any of its characters.

Broken Soul

"I will break all of the bones in your body to take you back with me, if I have to," Naruto had once said, and he could remember the words, the intonation, as if he had only just heard them. Maybe he did, and only now did the extent of his deeds truly come to him, as he realized what Naruto had meant.

It rained, the sky reflecting his grieving as he sat in front of his former friend's grave, mud on his limbs and clothes as the area was swamped by water. He didn't want to cry—he didn't mean to, but still those hot drops trickled over his cheeks as he watched the only thing he still had had to hold on melt away, slip through his fingers. His fault it had been, truly, because if he hadn't been there… That- that dobe wouldn't even be dead in the first place. He shouldn't have died…

And God, had he done awful things. The list was long, a length he didn't want to face, despite him being guilty of all those crimes. Those killings. He turned his head away, not able to face his friend with the burden of guilt placed on his shoulders. It didn't have to turn out this way, only if he hadn't been this stupid and so- so self-centered. But he guessed it would have been much easier if he hadn't had the constant idea of revenge replaying in his mind. His brother had left an impression on him that was impossible to erase. Not even… Naruto, had been able to do that. And after all those years, it left an empty hole in his heart, fed by regret and guilt, most of all.

He didn't have anyone left. Naruto was no more, no more dreams of being Hokage, of being acknowledged by the village, of being loved… The last thought brought someone else in his mind. Sakura. Faintly, he wondered how she was doing – but that could never be any good. Naruto was dead, and so was Kakashi (he had only heard the news later on). The only teammate she had left was a traitorous bastard that broke her heart, and would probably do it again in a heartbeat.

He could do nothing more than loathe his entire being, for what he was and, with regret, who he was supposed to be. His facial features slowly turned into a grim smile. It didn't have to be this way. If only he hadn't been so fond of power – the very power that had cost Naruto his life – it might have turned out better. Maybe not, but at least he would have been rid of the guilt.

There was no point in wishful thinking, he finally thought, and raised from his sitting position. His bare knees were dirty and wet, but he didn't care to clean them and dropped his pants so they weren't visible anymore. For a moment, he continued to stare at Naruto's – his friend's, that's what Naruto would've wanted to call him – grave, but then graciously turned around, not being able to face this reality anymore. There was nothing left for him here.

Only a day later, a scouting ANBU team found the corpse of the Uchiha, hanging from a tree, eyes set at looking past the horizon for nothing short of forever.