The Color of Devotion
Underneath the underneath. That is how a shinobi is supposed to see. They are trained to pick through deceptions, to decipher half-truths, and to sift through the mud of human nature to the reality that lies buried beneath.
Sasuke has always excelled at this, just as he excels at everything else. Sasuke knows how to tell a lie from the truth, how to dredge up information with just a glance, just like a good little ninja should. But Sasuke is not just a shinobi; he is an Uchiha, blessed with more than just the knowledge of his opponent's next move. His eyes see more than Kakashi's, more than Neji's, more than anyone's except perhaps his brother's. Then again, that is to be expected.
For as long as he can remember, he has been able to read emotions, much like he reads other's chakra patterns. When he was little, he used to pretend that they were colors, brilliant and spectacular and everywhere at once.
Now older and ensnared in the designs of Orochimaru, Sasuke doesn't look at colors anymore. No, now his days are taken up by training, by killing, by ordering others to kill. He doesn't have time for such childish things, he tells himself. But in the dead of night, when the ghosts of his past refuse to let him sleep, he lets the colors of his imaginary rainbow filter through his eyes once more. He looks at the bleak world of Oto, so different from the sunny atmosphere of his childhood home, and he remembers Konoha with a clarity that disgusts him. Each time, he is slightly shocked at how different they are. Not that he expected anything else.
Oto will never be Konoha, and Orochimaru will never be Tsunade. The new Sound Four can't take the place of the Rookie Nine, and Kabuto, no matter how much he may try, will never measure up to Kakashi. Even with his silver hair. But of course, Sasuke knew all of this when he left.
Yet still, the colors, emotions, things he sees from those two universes are so different, so contradictory that still, he has trouble believing it.
The color he sees most in Oto is silver. It is in the kunai, the shuriken, and the katanas of everyone in the village. If the ramshackle slave pen that is Oto can constitute being called a village. Silver is pain and death and bloodshed all rolled into one, the instruments of doom that cut and tear and shred and kill. Silver is something he knows he can't avoid, but still won't look at intentionally.
Hope was the emotion he saw most frequently in Konoha. It was everywhere, in the Third's smile in his funeral photograph, in the eyes of Hinata and Neji after Naruto promised to change Hyuuga, it was in everyone, god he couldn't get away from it. They say hope is a double-edged sword, and he believes it. Hope hurt to look at. It still hurts. Maybe it's because he knows that Hope is a fickle goddess, just like Fate, whom Neji knows so well. Maybe it's because Sasuke has no hope for himself, just a desolate, tiring ultimatum.
There is only one thing that the two hidden villages have in common; power. It's everywhere, in two very different shades. In Konoha, it was the red and white of the Hokage robes and the immense, loving, protecting power that they symbolized. The other shade is black. It is the black of the curse seal, not only the Heaven seal on his own skin, but the twisting designs that creep across the bodies of Orochimaru's chosen "pupils." One made him sick and the other almost makes him sicker, but is a giddy sickness, one he knows, believes, wishes will help him beat Itachi. He still refuses to hope.
He saw two shades of determination as well, both in Konoha and both colors, both people he tried to avoid. Green was Lee's jumpsuit, his outrageous nice guy pose, his unwavering dedication to a cause most considered lost. The Beautiful Green Beast of Konoha was famed for his steadfastness in the face of hardship, but there was one person who surpassed even him. Naruto, with his blue eyes that held boundless fortitude stuck out even more than Lee. That fox-like little boy, always shouting promises bigger than he could keep, was the epitome of determination. At the time, Sasuke avoided them because he thought they were stupid, devoting themselves to things that would never come. Looking back, he realizes it was because they were strong. That they are strong.Stronger, perhaps, than he ever was or ever will be.
Purple signifies something he never wanted to see. Purple is Orochimaru's control of his fate, of his life. Purple is the bows that, just like the curse seal, those who are important in Otogakure must wear. The twisted shapes cast grotesque shadows, and never loosen their holds, so much like the man who orders their use.
Of course, Sasuke sees more than just these colors, these emotions. He saw redemption, bright in Tsunade's amber eyes. White was, and still is, frailty; lying helpless in a medical ward with white walls, white ceilings, white floors, white sheets. Red. Red is hatred, the absolute apathy that he hates to see in Itachi's eyes, that blood-red Mangekyou Sharingan he will never achieve because he lacks hatred.
Of all the colors that he has seen, there is one that occupies a different spot in his vision. It is never fully in view, perhaps because he never focuses on it for too long. It always peripheral glances that allude to something more. It is devotion, without limits, without reason, without care. Sakura is pink, and her loyalty is something he never thinks about too long. Devotion like that is dangerous for him. It could bring him back Konoha, give him back his friends, and it could bring an end to that horrific ultimatum. He knows that, and as much as he wants to sit and rest, to let her come and heal him, he keeps going. He turns from pink and chases after red.
Sasuke will continue on the path that his brother laid out for him. He will go on pretending that he is too old to see in rainbows hues the hidden colors of the world. He will go on searching for revenge, seeking the end to the ultimatum that has haunted him for so long. Maybe one day, when all the red has faded away, he will stop running from the color he sees out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps, he will let rose-perfect pink expand to fill his whole field of vision.
He might, or he might not. He can't pass for perfect anymore. For Sasuke, nine times out of ten, things don't happen the way they should. There is no guarantee that the red will ever be gone, no guarantee that he will ever catch it in the first place, that he will make it out alive, that he will come back even if he does.
Yet still, Sakura will wait, because unlike her sisters, Fate and Hope, Devotion is never fickle. She is a goddess that stays her course, and right now, that course is an avenger, someone she hopes will someday find his was back to her. Hope may be changing, may hurt those who trust her, but Sakura will bear the wounds, if he will only return.
This is something I have had mulling around in my head for a while, so I finally sat down and got it out. Just an attempt to see Sasuke in a different light, but I don't know if I kept him in character or not. Written in about 1 hour, and has never been seen by my beta, so please excuse any mistakes in spelling or grammar. As always, feedback is much appreciated! Edit: changed a couple of awkward sentences and fixed some spelling mistakes. Thank you Sempiternus!