Cages.
When I was five, I thought that if I trained hard enough, I would become good enough to leave the Hyuuga forever. I pity my younger self for thinking like that. They would never let me go, no matter how much I yearned to fly free. I thought they would break the locks if I was good enough, but it never happened. It will never happen.
When I was twelve, I thought that if I trained hard enough, I could bend or break the bars to let myself out. That was just slightly less absurd than what I thought when I was seven years younger. No use, none at all. The Hyuuga all make their cages out of iron, iron so thick and strong it will never break.
When I met my team, I thought they could be my escape. Day after day, from before dawn into the hours of the night, I thought that I was really free. But when I came back to the compound, they stuffed me back into the cage and locked the door shut. Even my team, practically my family, could never let me out. Sometimes, I resented them for that.
Even Naruto, my Naruto, couldn't help. If anything, it made the locks stronger, the cage smaller. I was suffocating in my own hom- not a home. A house. Naruto really did everything he could, but in the end, I was still trapped in the cage. Alone. In the darkness that I grew up in. It nearly drove me insane. I think it did. It had to, eventually.
I think I found a way to get out, for real this time. And I can do it on my own. When a caged bird dies, the owner- or master - takes it out and won't put it back inside. And nobody will bother me anymore either. It's perfect. I just wonder, for all my so-called genius, why didn't I see it before?
The kunai is cold. The room is cold. Everything feels cold. But freedom is so close. It's only seconds, centimeters away. I can taste it, hear it whisper tempting words in my ear. In death, it says. In death. I don't try to resist. This is my freedom and nobody's taking it away, not Fear, not Guilt, not the long-lost Sanity. I tighten my grip.
Blood Splatters.
In death, I will fly free.