To Draw From a Deck - Gangster Dog, One-shot
Little Uchiha Sasuke, innocent and, well, little as he was, hated one thing in particular. Mediocrity it was named, hating to be just the same.
Join in on the rhyming game.
Or don't.
He did so hate that average feeling. It was unhelpful to have Uchiha Itachi near. Said older brother was perfection, while Sasuke was neck deep in above-average territory.
He was quiet, but not the quietest; he was smart, but not the smartest. He was mediocre.
Of course, he got his fare share of compliments, but they were off-handed.
"Good."
"Yes, that's fine."
"Its what I expected from you."
Sasuke did so hate being expected. They knew he would do fairly well. They knew it, and he knew he would receive their expected praise. He really didn't have anything concrete to complain about.
It didn't help to have Uzumaki Naruto near. After all, he actually had something to be upset over. He wasn't average, and he certainly wasn't perfection. He was a failure, a bright sunny failure.
Sasuke should be so lucky, but hey, that's the luck of the draw. He just happened to have a uniform deck.
He was most certainly smack dab in the middle of the spectrum, he thought. He wasn't good enough to live the dream, and he wasn't bad enough to dream big.
Sometimes he just wished something would happen. Good or bad, he wished for something interesting, something to make him stand out.
So as he stood there on blood-sodden ground, as he took in the morbid sight, tinged in red, and dutifully listened to his brother with a gaping maw, the tiniest inkling of satisfaction winked in and out of existence.
He hated himself for that. Sasuke loathed himself deeply for his self-mocking thoughts. He knew what he was now.
Now he was the Uchiha genius.
Now he was orphaned.
Lucky him, because now he wasn't mediocre.
But hey, its just the luck of the draw.
End