A/N: This is dedicated to Katie, Valiant Poison, even though I know she hates Sasuke. Even so, I think this would elict pity for him even from her. xD
Now and again we try
To just stay alive
Maybe we'll turn it all around
Cause it's not too late,
It's never too late.
Never Too Late; Three Days Grace
Too Late
Amarxlen
"We suffer because of our bonds... You don't know how it feels to lose them!"
That's why he tackles Naruto, is angry at Naruto, wants to hurt Naruto. Because as much as Naruto understands the pain of loneliness, better than anyone else, he still doesn't know. He understands how it feels to be isolated, with nobody around to offer love or kindness or even acknowledgement.
But he doesn't remember, doesn't know what it's like to remember. He can't remember warm embraces, gentle words, kind faces. He doesn't know what it's like to remember coming home to a smile and the words, "How was your day," and still hoping against hope that the smile and those words will greet him once again, even though he knows they're all dead, gone, and buried. He doesn't know what it's like to open his eyes in the morning and expect to hear the sounds of his clan going about their daily chores only to hear the stinging ring of silence in his ears. To lie awake at night half expecting his mother to still come in and tell him "Good night," only to watch the sun rise and not have slept at all.
And maybe it's partly because Naruto doesn't know that Sasuke wants to leave more than anything. Because the blond tries too hard, is too persistent, is too distracting, cares too much. So Sasuke narrows his eyes and yells, "It's too late, Naruto!" He can't help the horror he feels at seeing his best friend's face so empty, so dead. He can't help the roiling wave of nausea that threatens to overtake him as he stumbles away, trying to get that empty face out of his mind. Of course it doesn't leave; of course it haunts him, as if it can't be any other way.
It seems like hours later when he stares down apathetically at his once best friend. Because he knows that's not true, that it doesn't apply anymore and will never be again. Not even if he runs back to the village with the dobe in his arms and begs for forgiveness, swears eternal loyalty to the village that's like a cage.
It's too late, it's too late, it's too late.
He gets up and begins to walk away, not because he wants to, not because he can, but because he has to, because he must.
Because he can only go forward.