Home. The thought flitted through Sasuke's sleep ridden mind.
Home. That was a word that had once meant so much to him. It had meant a place to return to, a family.
Family. That too had been a word of value. Family had been a mother's embrace, a brother's finger poking his forehead, a father's expectations to live up to.
But those words had gained new meanings, meanings that no seven-year-old should ever be subjected to.
Hate. Revenge.
Home had been destroyed. Home had been sliced to pieces, by that self-same brother who would poke him on the head. No, he wasn't a brother any longer. He was that man. That man that he would kill. That man that had destroyed him, just like he had destroyed his family and his home.
Those had been the thoughts coursing through his head, over and over again, for the last five years of his life. He was an avenger. Once, he had seen a sign that read, "Home is where the heart is!" He had let out a disgusted grunt, thinking to himself 'Heart? What Heart?'
But then, everything had changed. Home came alive again, his heart began to heal. But he wasn't ready for it. He wasn't ready for home to earn a new meaning, not yet. He wouldn't be ready until he was absolutely sure that he could protect his home. And he wouldn't be able to do that until he had avenged his last one. Maybe then he could go home again, and they would forgive him.
Sasuke slowly drifted to sleep, and dreamt of blonde, pink and silver hair, with bright smiles, shy glances, and orange books. Home again.