Sasuke
The eyes in the paintings followed him down the hall. The air seemed to blacken around him in his angry haze. Palace workers, maids, and guards of the like parted ways for Sasuke. In an attempt to avoid his angry 'tantrum', Sasuke heard someone fall, though he didn't bother to help, or even look for that matter. Perhaps he would have given a care yesterday, but not now. Bursting into the silence of his room, he whirled around and slammed the doors shut. With a great sigh, Sasuke's back hit the door and he slid down. Sitting on the floor was not a 'princely' act, but at the moment, Sasuke was alone and at the time, didn't have a care left to give. Sighing, he pulled one knee up to his chest and nestled his head there. Sasuke wasn't even sure why he was so mad right now. He always knew it was going to happen someday, but maybe he just thought he was going to be special. Exempt from the traditions that have gone on forever. Bringing his free hand to his face, he covered his eyes, attempting to will this heavy feeling away.
"Prince Sasuke, your father requests your presence in his study," with a deep bow, the butler that had intruded on Sasuke's privacy, left, softly shutting the door. What would father want? Standing up, Sasuke's chair screeched backwards, stretched his arms up in strain. The entire day, Sasuke had dedicated it to all the paperwork. To think his father would have any more than he already had was tiring just to think of. Trudging out of his dark room, Sasuke cracked open the door. The slightest bit of light shone into the room, the beam landing on the rich blue of the perfectly made bed. Punching the door open all the way, Sasuke stepped out into the hallway with confidence. A soft click of the doors and he set off for his father's study. Every twist of the pale white walls, every marble column at the corner of a turn. Sasuke knew it all. Though making his way to his father's study, it felt strange. He knew the way perfectly, yet he didn't at the same time. Remembering the last time Sasuke was in his father's study, it had been at the time that Itachi had married, and they were finishing the last bit of paperwork. Shaking his head, Sasukes' eyes remained motionless.
His tracks had stopped in front of grand, expensive double doors. The guards on either side of the doors remained un-moving. With his fist turned in, Sasuke lightly knocked on the deep brown wood.
"Come in." The deep, stern voice of his father's acknowledged Sasuke, and he pressed down on the knob of the door. With a single step, he was in the study, swinging the doors shut.
"Father, you called?" Sasukes' coal eyes scanned the room. Shelves filled with books lined the walls, except for the far wall behind the desk piled with papers.
" Ah, Sasuke, yes. I have some important things to discuss with you," Sasuke's father placed his pen down softly and looked up from the document he had been studying. "Do you remember Itachi's wedding?" His father probed. Sasuke already knew where this was going. Afterall, he had known for a long time.
"Yes, of course, Father, how could I forget," Sasuke's thoughts wandered to Itachi and his wife, Izumi. They were living happily, and he would be ascending the throne soon. "Then–" he paused, "–do you remember how he met our dearest, Izumi?" There it was. Sasuke only nodded.
"I do, father," he swallowed the bile rising in his throat.
"It is time, Sasuke. Time for you to hold your own Selection." The words hung in the air. King Fugaku smiled warmly as if nothing was wrong, but everything was wrong. Sasuke was only nineteen. He couldn't possibly marry at his age. And he probably wouldn't even be marrying for love. He'd marry some beauty-crazed girl, fawning over him day after day, and die a miserable death, surrounded by people he didn't truly love. That was how he always thought of his future.
"But father," Sasuke started. He looked up again from his document. "Those are traditions of old. There is no reason, or need, that I should hold a selection." His father sighed again. He did that a lot lately.
"Do you know how I met your mother, Sasuke?" He nodded once and looked down. "I met her when I held my own Selection years and years ago. And I swear on my life, it was the best choice I'd ever made."
From his view on the floor, Sasuke could just glimpse the blinding light through the closed curtain of the balcony. Pushing himself off the floor, Sasuke made his way to the balcony. Passing his bed and the little seating area, he stepped up to the glass pane door, curtained over with scarlet curtains. Pulling them back, he pressed the handle down and the fresh spring breeze flowed through the darkness of the room. The back of Sasukes' shoes on the marble balcony stopped when he reached the marble rail. Situating his elbow on the smooth surface of the stone, Sasuke gently placed his head in his hand. How wonderful. Still, nothing has changed. He might have left the confines of his father's cell, but he was still in the beautiful, guided cage people called the Palace.