Will you get this?


Sasuke is empty.

He roams through life, a wanderer. With neither true human interaction nor desire for it. And it only be said to bother him on those dark winter nights when the wind is whistling and the memories are calling and he realizes that all he has and all he has ever had is a wrenching void where he's sure a soul is supposed to be.

Nothing can fill it.

When he was younger, he would try. Friendships, hobbies, yada yada. No one can ever imply he just let himself fall into this… This terrible passivity of being where the only thing that seems real is that nothing seems real.

But at the end of the day, he is left with this vague, painful sense of not really being human at all. Of wandering this world like an intruder, accepted nowhere and everywhere and not being bothered by either. Of having had his skin stripped away so that his raw insides can wrench at every breeze, every grief, every loss.

He forgot what it was to be full. To wake up and smile because yes, he's still alive.

That is, until him.

That one stupid, foolish, idealistic, motherfucking moron.

He filled Sasuke's head with such existence. Such pure and undeniable being that for the first time in oh so damn long Sasuke could believe he was doing something more than going through the motions of living.

That was the problem. He made Sasuke feel too alive. His life became like the cycle of stars, forever expanding larger and larger and brighter and brighter until one nondescript, unplanned day when thousands of miles away children on earth are peacefully dreaming of true love they explode into fifty thousand shards of nothing, forever vanishing into the gloom of eternity and leaving only the same dark, bare core that started the whole cycle to begin with.

Except after all that, Sasuke isn't empty anymore.

He can claim one solid thing; one painfully eternal stitch in his being.

He misses Naruto.


It's been 41 days. And counting. Forever.

T.N