I do not own Naruto. My thoughts are my own. Reviews are much appreciated.
Dedicated to LadyMarrowind.
You know, you always thought you could see everything. You and those eyes of yours.
Hah.
As if.
You and your Sharingan, your precious bloodline limit, never saw anything. Oh, you thought you knew me. You thought I was shallow, weak, easily replaced.
But, in retrospect, perhaps I am.
I can see how you could see me as shallow. For a time, I guess I was. I was vain; obsessed with myself, obsessed with how I appeared. And to think, for all that time, I never realized.
Not once.
You didn't care. I thought you were merely playing with me, waiting for the right time. Of course you felt the same way as I did; you had to. That was before, though.
That was before.
I was naïve.
I was stupid.
I thought you cared.
But, if you think about it, you realize that they're all synonymous. They all boil down to the same thing:
You don't care.
You never did.
You never will.
So, I'm moving on-but no. I'm not moving on. I moved on a long time ago. I'm not weak any more, deluded any longer. My infatuation was my prison. I woke up just some time ago and opened my eyes. It was like being thrust into the real world, reality from a paper drawing. I was an ink-and-paper child in my ink-and-paper world. You were there, too, but it wasn't the real you. It was what I had drawn. It was what I made you out to be. Not who you really were.
So, now, I don't think you realize. No, I know you don't realize. You still believe I'm made of ink-and-paper, and that I believe your lies. Your motivations.
Not a question.
A fact.
I would have done anything for you.
Lied.
Betrayed.
Killed.
Died.
Anything.
For you.
Because, after all, all I wanted was you.
But, like I said, my eyes are open now. I've come to my senses. I've been freed of my bonds that turned out to be made of paper, merely paper.
You're painted a darker shade of grey than I thought.