Warnings: Slight spoilers for some episodes not yet out in English; OOCness, but blood loss will do that to a person. lolz. That said, please enjoy.

Chapter One

My fingers seemed frozen in place, unable–unwilling?—to release their hold on the black cloak. My turbulent red eyes stared into cold black ones, unmoving, frozen. For a long while, I merely stood there—frozen—supporting the weight in my hands. Then, slowly, of their own accord, my frozen fingers released their hold on the black cloak with the red clouds, and he fell. Dead weight. Lying frozen on the ground.

Something warm and liquid on my hands was burning my frozen fingers. I brought my hands up to my blood-red eyes to see the matching color on my hands. (And my arms and legs and chest and face and stomach and snow-white shirt.) His or mine, I didn't know. Didn't care.

My hands fell to my sides and I stumbled back a step or two until my back hit a tree. I slid down to sit, not bothering to notice if the ground was even dry or wet, not that it would have mattered. It soon became wet from the blood dripping off my form and soaking into it. I sighed deeply, and winced. Breathing deeply was not such a good thing at this time.

My eyes wandered up and over to the black cloak with the red clouds, and the person lying–frozen—within it. My eyebrows furrowed a bit. I was unsure of what exactly had just happened. A fight? Yes, there had been a fight. With…Itachi? Yes, it had been Itachi. I was sure of it. No one else fought that way—could fight that way. And…I had won? Now, that, I was not so sure of. Yet there he lay, in front of me—frozen and unmoving—as the proof.

My brows drew down deeper as I frowned. But…how? I could never beat Itachi before. He was simply too good. No matter how hard I trained, how much power I gained, his back was always so far ahead. Hard work was simply no match for true talent, was my bitter lesson in life. So how had I…? at last…? The fight was all a blur to me.

I do remember Chidori…failing…And there was Mangekyou Sharingan—two pairs, I'm sure. And my Chidori Nagashi, and two long swords…I don't remember the final blow. Or his final words—Did he have any? He must have, because I remember something hurting worse than any wound. What were they…?

I close my eyes and try to concentrate—on anything. Focusing is becoming harder, as more redness slips down and into the earth to be greedily soaked up by the soil. –Itachi.—

My eyes open again to look at him. His are still open—dark grey staring up into darkening blue. But he's not looking. He hadn't been looking before, when we fought. All these years, and he still wasn't looking at me. (Maybe tomorrow.)

Tomorrow…I remember part of what he said, now. He asked me…what I would do now. Yes…He asked me what came next, now that I killed him. How silly of him. That question could only be based off the assumption that my sole desire in life, my only purpose and goal, the reason I betrayed my friends and sought power anywhere I could find it, broke all bonds, and took on the self-imposed title of Avenger when I was still just a child—was to kill him. And now that my purpose in life was gone, what would I do?

Well the answer is quite simple. My purpose in life is not yet gone—not lying frozen and unmoving on the ground. No, killing him was only half my reason for continuing to live and grow these years. The restoration of my clan still lies in my hands.

After all, I cannot be the last Uchiha. I am not worthy. Besides, that would make him the second-to-last Uchiha, and he is certainly less worthy. I almost grin a little at the thought. He was not the last Uchiha. I am. (Forgotten already that I am not supposed to be the last.)

A bird sings and flies away, drawing my attention to my surroundings. I realize that I do not even know where I am. I was aware of all around me during the fight, of course—At least, I think I was. (I cannot quite remember.) That is a most basic rule for a shinobi. And I am a good shinobi. But that's not important right now. I cannot remember where I am, or how I got here—only that I found Itachi here. (Or maybe he found me?)

I wonder if this place—some forest—is anywhere near Konoha. Near home. I have not seen, have not been home in so long a time. I was very young the last time I was home—seven or eight, I'm not sure—but that was nearing ten years ago. More than half my life. Half a life is much too long to be away from home. Itachi was very far from home too…(I haven't seen my Aniki in such a long time…)

Friends…Friends are at home. I haven't seen them in much too long a time, either. I wonder if they've forgotten me. I can't quite remember their faces right now—but I'm sure they'll come to me in a minute. Especially Nabuto. No…Naruto. That's it. Yes, he's the one who went so far for me. (Foolish dobe.) How could I forget his face? He had whiskers, I think. And bright green eyes. No, that was the girl. His were blue. Yes, that's right. Blonde hair, blue eyes. (Because they were like a bright blue sun in a sky of yellow.) I would have liked to see Naruto again.

I wonder why I'm so tired…Maybe it has something to do with the red water still running down my arms, onto my—frozen—fingers and soaking into the earth beneath me.

I'm interrupted from my musings by my name being called. I look over to the black cloak with the red clouds, and the person lying inside it. It wasn't him. He's still staring—unmoving and frozen—at the sky—but I don't think he sees it. I think he's dead. The second-to-last Uchiha, not the last.

A pair of black sandals steps into my vision—probably belonging to a person—probably the same person that said my name, since the person says it again.

I let my head fall back as my eyes (I wonder if they are blood red or black as night?) travel up the person's body. And there it is, at the top. The face with whiskers and the eyes and hair like a blue sun in a sky of yellow. I knew his face would come to me.

He falls to his knees in front of me, so I don't have to look up quite so much. He looks…sad, maybe? I think he is wondering if all the blood covering me is my own, or the other's. I wish I could tell him, but I'm not sure myself. (Though the logical part of my mind remaining tells me that if I am unsure if I am wounded or not, I probably am.)

I try to greet him properly, but all that works its way past my—frozen—uncooperative lips is his murmured name. He repeats mine. And then he gathers me gently into his arms, so I no longer have to support myself. It has started raining in his blue suns. I do not want that.

"Naruto, why are you crying?" I ask him, and this time I manage to speak all the words. "Everything is all right now, isn't it?"

He smiles—sadly. (How can a smile be sad?) "Yes, Sasuke. Everything will be better now. I've found you at last."

"Look, Naruto." I nod in the direction of the black cloak with the red clouds. "I killed him." (There was the bloody hole in his chest to prove it.) "I can finally go home now."

"Home…" he repeats softly, gazing at the one lying frozen, not seeing the sky. I do not think Naruto sees him, either.

"Yes…home. I still have to restore my clan. My purpose is not gone," I tell him. Something else suddenly occurs to me. "Do you think they will forgive me?" I betrayed my home, after all, and sought power from the enemy.

Naruto suddenly flashes me a bright, positive smile. "Of course they will, Sasuke! If I can forgive you, then they can too." The smile wavers.

"That's good…" I sigh, closing my eyes a moment. Naruto's grip on me tightens and he shakes me a bit. I open my eyes. "I'm sorry…for trying to kill you."

He smiles—a little. It also wavers. "That's alright. I tried to kill you too."

"Tell Sakura—" Yes, that was her name. She was the one with the green eyes. "—that I'm sorry for making her cry." Some part of me wonders what makes me say such things. I do not think I used to care what other people felt. But that doesn't matter anymore.

"You're going to tell her yourself," Naruto says in a strong, certain voice. "You're going to be fine, and we're going to go home. You have to restore your clan, remember?" (His voice also wavers.)

Oh, that's right. I can't be the last Uchiha. I almost forgot. "Home. They'll forgive me."

"That's right," he assures. (But I could still see the tears.) He supported me with one arm as he clumsily wrapped something around me with the other. Bandages? I must be wounded after all. "Just hold on," he murmurs to me. "Don't leave me yet."

I chuckle a little, but warm redness rises in my throat, so I stop. "I'm not leaving. I'm going home," I try to tell him. I'm not sure if it actually got out or not, for the redness in my throat. A little slips past my lips as my eyes want to close of their own will.

Naruto shakes me, gently at first, and begins calling my name again. He soon stops, though. Or maybe I stopped feeling it? (It is unlike him to give up so easily, after all.)

I sigh again, my mind content in the fact that I am going home soon. Soon, they will all forgive me, and everything will go back to how it was before I left, only better. Soon, I will become a Leaf shinobi again, and have my entire life ahead of me to fulfill my purpose. Everything will be alright soon, for the first time in much too long.

After all, I can't be the last Uchiha. (I'm not quite sure why.)

End.

There's one more coming after this, so don't forget to check back soon! Thanks for reading!