Sasuke hated pity beyond anything else.
Pity implied weakness.
Pity implied uselessness.
In his life there was room for neither. He had long ago abandoned boyish dreams of fighting for his little village. A dream of a family, a secure job and proud parents. He only fought for revenge now. He lived only for revenge. What was the point of existing and letting that murderer roam free?
No. Sasuke would kill his brother. Murder him just as he'd murdered their family. And Sasuke would show his brother no pity. Because pity was weakness; pity was uselessness. Sasuke had too much respect for both himself and his brother to show him pity.
Sasuke despised anything like pity.
Sympathy.
Mercy.
Compassion.
That's why Sasuke hated Sakura. A short sinewy girl. Her body was skinny and shapeless-angular tendons and bones poking out, defining the shape of her limbs in long skeletal lines. Her features were just as sharp. A wide forehead above thin arched eyebrows, which in turn shadowed large round eyes. Her square jaw was accentuated by her pointy chin, only softened by the pouty pink lips that quivered with sorrow whenever he opened his mouth to chide her.
She possessed masculine characteristics that placed her far from the normal feminine stereotype. Ironically her hair was pink (a typical girly colour which he'd come to despise) it was long and bounced with frivolity whenever she walked. Everything about her was frivolous.
Her tinny giggle; sounded as manufactured and fake as her personality. Her eyes glittered unnaturally and so happily it couldn't be real. That white smile, that she saved only for him, was the worst thing about her. The last thing he needed was to be singled out, to have something especially for him. Sasuke would not spare her the same time.
He hated her. He hated that he was special to her.
To her he was Sasuke.
Not Sasuke Uchiha.
Not the prodigy. Not the victim. Not the avenger. But Sasuke the twelve year old boy.
She shouldn't hope to get so close as to know him. He could only be one thing from now on. He could only be the avenger. Childhood was behind him.
And it hurt. To look at her; so full of youthful exuberance and hope. Overflowing with bubbling joy and happy expectations. Sasuke wished he could be as naïve. Just as ignorant as his rose haired team mate; who knew nothing of hate, fear and pain. The pain was so intense he couldn't help lashing out. To make her feel a fraction of what he felt.
Sasuke always felt that mixture of euphoria and guilt whenever tears gathered in green eyes. Such strong pride would rush through his veins, knowing he'd shattered something in her. It was addictive; to know he had to power to tear her soul apart; to destroy her.
Something always stopped him though. Some small glow worm of pity in his rotten heart. A maggot that infected his soul with weakness. A flaw he'd only allow to exist for Sakura- the girl who'd fallen in love with him. She'd fallen in love with Sasuke. Not the Uchiha. Not the prodigy, not the victim, not the avenger. Sasuke the boy.
To her he was a person. Sakura saw more than a genius, she saw beyond his potential as a ninja, even beyond his handsome face. She didn't see the vassal of power or the weak snivelling pitiful worm. He was a person. To her he was a wonderful person.
So he left her whole. Because under all the hate and anger, with her he could be that 12 year old boy. He could be something lovable, something lasting in the world. Sasuke let her exist on the fringes of his world, always coasting on the edges of his thoughts, so that for once he was special for who he was not what he was.