Disclaimer: I don't own Sasuke, Orochimaru, the Sharingan, or really the setting, either. They all belong to the wonderful mind of Masashi Kishimoto. I only own this short blurb in Sasuke's mind.
Warnings: It's kind of confusing. The italic first-person stuff is what he is thinking and the non-italic third-person stuff is what's going on.
Raging War Upon Myself
One-Shot
'Sometimes it's so difficult to pretend. Sometimes, just for a moment, I don't believe that I can do it.
Sometimes... I hate myself.
To think that someone can hate themselves with every single fiber of their being is a rather silly thought to entertain, but for me it's a reoccurring experience.'
The room was pitch black. A blank space in the caverns of earth. Only a truly wretched creature could dwell within it.
A rat skittered across the stone floor, becoming illuminated by a strange red light and then bursting into flames that didn't dare to even crackle... It seemed almost sin to disturb the silence, as the fire's prey had.
The flickering light made the bare room seem even more lonely. The walls, floor, ceiling, and door were all the same. Smooth, never ending stone.
The only obstacle in the room was a small cot, shoved into a corner with a blanket thrown over the poor soul who lie on it.
Once the fire finally died, the red light came back on. If anyone had been watching from some hidden place – which would have been rather impossible, even for an insect, as there was not a nook nor cranny anywhere for it to hide in – they would have realized that it was not a light, but a pair of emotionless eyes, the black sharingan symbol swirling in their depths.
'What if he really does just use you for himself? What if he changes his mind and defeating Itachi really isn't important anymore...
What if this is all for naught?
What would I do then? Just be a meaningless existence that was snuffed out too soon to become anything but a disappointment?
Leaving everyone like I did... Pushing them away, not making friends, only worrying about becoming smarter, faster, stronger...
What if I did that all for nothing?'
Anger began to weasel it's way into the crimson orbs... An anger so strong that the blanket almost caught fire.
Anger at everyone, anyone, and especially, mostly, himself.
And then it was gone... Pushed away, like everything else human. Everything else weak. Everything real...
'Shut up. It's fine. It'll work out fine.
Itachi is Orochimaru's enemy, too... I don't have to worry at all, Itachi is the main part of his plan and he doesn't ever give up on something once he's started it... does he?
Stop it. Stop being stupid. Stop being weak.
It doesn't matter. As long as he dies, that's all that matters. If a small, insignificant thing like your life is sacrificed in the process, it doesn't matter.
Orochimaru will complete your task by using your body, and that's all you need to worry about. He'll train your body, and then he'll control it... like a puppet master and his masterpiece...'
Footsteps sounded outside the door. They led up to it, and then paused in front of the door. The raspy breathing of the person could be heard, inhaling and exhaling, over and over, a smooth, simple rhythm...
And then the footsteps began again, walking past the door and far beyond.
The Uchiha let out a breath that he hadn't realized he had been holding. Why should he be scared of Orochimaru? Why should he be scared of anyone? He was THE Uchiha heir and nobody could get in his way of completing his ultimate goal. Only he could avenge his family, and he would... soon... he would...
He sat up, the blanket falling into a pile of fabric at his feet. The sweat on his bare chest glinted slightly in the red tremor of his eyes. He didn't know why, but it was suddenly difficult to breathe. Inhaling and exhaling was much labored than before. He took short, quick breaths, the oxygen stinging his lungs but not quenching his thirst for air.
'What if... What if I don't want to be a puppet?
What if I want to be the one in control? Shouldn't I choose the way my life is going...?
People like Orochimaru... and like Kabuto... they're in it for themselves, for their goals, their personal gain... It's nothing about what I want, it's only want they want to achieve, I'm only a game piece...'
The red eyes narrowed considerably, the expression tainting the tanned face was not impressed. Being a game piece in the big scheme of things was definitely not part of his goal.
But the real question was whether or not he should play along, or figure out a way to break away...
'I won't let him control me.
I won't be a puppet... not anymore...
I'll live my own life, and defeat Itachi using my own methods...
Who is he to–'
The door was suddenly opened, revealing a pale-skinned Orochimaru, his snake eyes scanning Sasuke. "It is time for your training, Sasuke-kun," he said, a smooth smile crossing his pointed features.
Sasuke stood wordlessly, face blank, and pulled on his robes. He followed Orochimaru from the room, his feet walking the memorized path to the training room.
'Play along, little puppet... do what you're meant to...
Be a good boy and don't allow your selfish desires to interfere with the big picture...
Don't worry about what you want, what you need... You belong to the puppeteer...
For now.'
Author's Note: Okay, so it's kind of weird... But I hope I sort of kept Sasuke in character. It's my first time writing a Sasuke fic and it's usually a good idea to have the feel of a character before trying to make a fic centered around him (even if it's a measly one-shot).
Reviews are appreciated. (-will give cookies to reviewers-)