Inevitable:
Sasuke
1.
We were together. This was not a good thing. Even though nothing could be done about it, I let them know that they weren't welcome in my life.
A 3-man team…There were two too many. They were dragging me down, but I wasn't going to go down without a fight.
The annoying pink-haired girl and that rejected blonde idiot were constantly pushing at my mind. Trying to talk to me. To be my teammate. Asking me out on dates and calling me Sasuke-kun (that was mainly Sakura), and challenging me to fights (Naruto).
Pushing, pushing, pushing… And for some reason, after a while, they didn't need to push.
2.
After Zabuza, and precisely 200.49 hours of waiting for Kakashi, I was falling freely. And it was wrong. Always wrong.
Always wrong, but then when Naruto was going to die and he had a dream that wasn't clouded by evil, and I decided to throw my life away for a dead-last that was way too loud even when he was whispering…then it was right.
When Sakura's annoying pink hair was short and her annoying face was scratched and bruised and beaten, and she was in front of me, protecting me, and I wanted to kill the bastards that hurt her…then it was right.
Because even though Naruto was an idiot, he was my friend.
Even though Sakura was annoying, she was…Sakura.
3.
But it became wrong again. A voice manifested itself, snake-like, at the back of my head.
A throbbing heart; blood on my brother's hands. The curse-seal reminded me of what I had almost lost sight of. Itachi. His voice, always echoing, calling to me.
Too weak, the voice would say. Too weak to defend the honor of my late parents, too weak to protect my teammates who were suddenly my friends. Foolish.
But still, I ignored it.
Still I worried about the stupid Chunin exams, still I worried about Sakura being crushed by sand, and Naruto. Naruto who was there, in the way, pummeled to near-death and still protecting everyone. The village, me, a pink haired girl I could not love.
Maybe, I thought foolishly (foolish little brother), that was ok. But there are some people that Naruto can't defeat. And that person came to Konoha.
I woke up in the hospital, knowing that I had lost sight of what I wanted, and I wanted Itachi dead. Power was most important. Avenging my family was most important.
The green leaves that were falling outside my hospital window were not important. Should not be important. Sakura should not be important, and I should not care that her arms were around me, and tears were streaming down her cheeks.
4.
I should not care that Naruto and I almost fought to the death, and Kakashi's suspicious warnings shouldn't matter. They don't matter. They don't matter. Naruto, more powerful than me, but still looking up to me, wanting to see me approve, didn't matter.
Late dinners at Ichiraku, and waiting for that damn Kakashi all time, and depending on each other as a team…none of it mattered.
But then I looked across my apartment and my eyes landed on a picture. I knew it was a lie that was going to break someday.
But, for now, we were not together. So I set the picture face-down on my desk, and I walked out of my house without looking back again. Because it wasn't my home. The people in the photo were my home.
I left, but I could feel that there would be one more goodbye tonight.
5.
It figured she would be the one to notice me leaving. She must have somehow sensed it. She probably sensed it weeks before. And though emotions were to be scoffed at, and to be disregarded, I could feel her sadness, and I almost wanted to stop.
I wanted to turn back, and talk to her. But I didn't have to, because she stopped me with her words.
Her annoying words that didn't know of betrayal and true loneliness. The annoying, predictable expressions that twisted her face into agony. She could never understand me. And I didn't want her to. But she would understand once I left.
And when I called her annoying, I wasn't lying, or being harsh. She was annoying me, by trying to get me to stay, by telling me that she loved me; that without me, she would be alone.
Sakura was annoying because if I was a normal person with a normal past and vengeance wasn't so important, then maybe she and I…
But "ifs" are irrelevant. So I say the only thing I can think of.
"Thank you for everything."
6.
The dead-last actually followed me. He was actually fighting me, trying to bring me back. As if this wasn't already hard enough. But…no. NO. It wasn't hard. It was simple. I needed to break the foolish, weak bonds that threatened my goal, and my family's revenge.
I told him this. He screamed that I was his brother. I knew that.
…We were…best friends. And because we were best friends, I could become as powerful as Itachi…more powerful.
And so I tried to kill Naruto. My best friend. And, he who was stronger than me, lay unconscious in the Valley of the End. I bent my face to his, ready to strike for the last time.
But I didn't.
Because I actually thought that not killing him would make me better than my brother. I was foolish, and Itachi was a better man than me. But I didn't know that then.
Then, I was just the last Uchiha, officially a missing-nin; I was running towards Orochimaru, so that I could kill my only living relative; and a small, defeated part of my mind wanted one thing.
One simple thing, and it could never happen. I could never go back to Konoha. I could never love Sakura the way she loved me. I could never look Naruto in the eye again. It was over. I couldn't turn around.
So, even as I turned away from emotions, from my heart, and from the only people that ever mattered to me, something happened. I didn't even realize it. I thought it had happened when Itachi was standing in a pool of my parent's blood and my world became a Hell on Earth.
But, as I was walking away from Naruto, who was the only person who insulted me, and who understood how I felt…
As I was walking even further away from Sakura, asleep on a bench, her confession still ringing in my ears...
…As the rain poured down…
My heart broke.
7.
We were there.
We were together.
We faced death.
We won.
We faced life.
We fell.
W e w e r e T e a m S e v e n .