Disclaimer: Do I really need to put this up? Okay.. I offically don't own this.
Warnings: Abuse... Only this once, I'll put a warning for this: Heterosexual pairings... and Homosexual pairings. A little of both.
Beta~ed by the wonderful Darkness Engulfs Me
The loud thudding of footsteps could only belong to one person. One person alone. Just the thought of that someone made him feel as if his heart was in the pit of his stomach. The boy was shaking with fear, obviously having knowledge of the aftermath of his action. He sat in his closet, with the doors closed all the way. The darkness calmed him in a way he couldn't explain. Probably because it engulfed him in a seemingly protective manner, allowing him to be with the only person who utterly understood him – himself. He couldn't be seen by those who wanted to hurt him, and he couldn't behold the ugly truths of the world.
The footsteps grew louder and closer with every second which passed by. His fingernails dug deep into his hands, as his teeth bit firmly on his bottom lip. Never in his life had he craved so much for the dreadful sound of footsteps to eventually fade away.
But that day, luck left him…Just like all the other things.
The door swung wide open, revealing a tall man with blond hair much like his own. A man with blue eyes much like his own.
In the blink of an eye, a fist grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him violently to his feet.
"You thought you could hide from me, Naruto?!" The cold voice yelled, emanating a strong scent of alcohol.
I was hoping I could…Naruto thought to himself, as his head made harsh contact with the hollow walls. Creaking soon followed the contact.
"You thought you could get away with it?!" Came the angry tone once again.
The man was obviously not satisfied with the lack of response, and pulled his free arm back, before landing a punch straight into Naruto's stomach.
A mix between a gasp and a groan left the younger male's mouth. " I. Asked. You. A. Question. I. Expect. You. To. Answer." Each word was punctuated with another punch to a various spot on Naruto's fragile body.
"N-no..." Naruto replied, hoping to appease the man most would call 'dad,' though he really had no idea what this man meant.
"Exactly. But you made your mother die, anyway, didn't you?!"
So that was it… But, it wasn't his fault! Honestly! He was only but a few minutes old when his mother passed away. How did her death manage to be placed on his shoulders? Was it possible for a fourteen-year old such as him to be able to carry such a burden?
Naruto didn't dare to say a word. He learned from past and bitter experiences that it would only make things worse.
His "father" grabbed a fistful of his blond hair, and pulled him across the room, before dropping him. His head made a rather loud thud against the wooden floor. It was a pitiful sight to behold. It was… sorrowful to realize that the boy lying on the cold floor had been living like this. Every minute of his life had been one of fear and torture. But how can one say such a thing? That was no life. It was something worse than slavery. The teenager was bereft of love.
A series of kicks marked his tan body with markings that will carry the memories of yet another beating. Time may pass by, but the boy would certainly not forget what he had endured.
With the amount of hurt and pain which he was compelled to confront at home, it was a wonder how he had still not gotten used to the ache. Every time he was beaten, the pain was new and fresh. Never either familiar or old.
The crunch of a stomp against his weak chest echoed in his ears. He didn't dare to open his eyes, he didn't dare to confront the view of his father for he couldn't stand to watch him showing a satisfied smirk before walking away as if he hadn't hurt anyone. It was beyond him. It was beyond any child.
Naruto lay there, waiting for his elder brother Kyuubi to come home from classes. Waiting to gather strength in his feet in order to be able to get up from the cold ground. Waiting for the moment when he could once again hide all traces of his beating from public view.
He hummed softly as he floated in the darkness of unconsciousness, the pain eventually petering as he surrounded himself to the only universe where he could dream freely. Wish for everything he had never had. Wish for something he was reluctant about ever being offered. He was craving for love.
"What is this about art, Sasuke?! Uchiha members don't play around and finger paint!"
"Father, it's not playing around. Haven't you heard of Vincent Van Gogh? Picasso? They're fa-"
"I know exactly who they are! And guess what, they're dead! The Uchiha name is not to be soiled by the likes of you! Painting is of no use!"
"But, Fath-!"
"No! Not one more word from you. Go straight up to your room."
Sasuke looked at his feet, knowing really well that he couldn't say another word.
He turned around, and walked calmly upstairs. Halfway up, he could hear his father whisper to his mother "He's a disgrace," amidst other comments he no longer wanted to enter the range of his sensible ears.
He ran the rest of the distance towards his room, slamming the bedroom door right behind, somewhat satisfied with the loud noise it made.
Albeit, his anger still boiled. He grabbed his lamp from his nightstand, and threw it across the room, letting it crash into the wall.
Sasuke growled, glaring at the mess he had made. He knew he shouldn't have allowed his hopes to gather up. His father would always be the same, unsatisfied unless he won a Nobel Prize or something.
His father wanted him to be flawless, perfectly obedient to his growing list of expectations, perfect grades on report cards, perfect behavior. Being an Uchiha meant being burdened with the weight of Uchiha Inc., which itself was a multi-billion company. Itachi was already being taught the basics of handling it, so why did Sasuke have to suffer the effects of the burden as well?
It was known that Sasuke was not going to become head of the company, so why? Wasn't it obvious that he held no interest at all?
Did his father truly want to make Sasuke suffer? Or maybe it was what most called "tough-love"?
That may have been the only form of affection Sasuke had been given… It didn't bother him. He believed that living without love was relatively easy and kept you from being distracted.
That was the last thing he needed to be - distracted. He needed time to prove his potential to his father, to prove he wasn't a disgrace, and along the way, maybe raising the name of Uchiha in another way beside business.
Not maybe. He would. As he had said so many times before, no distractions were needed.