Spoilers for 218 and all that. Again, I'm totally in love with Rin's Sasuke. Usual disclaimers apply. Really, don't you people read enough Naruto fics to realize the pattern by now? I don't know if I really think he over-thinks stuff like this, but I know that I do. I also just realized that this sort of contradicts my other story. Oh well.
My hips are bruised where he's knocked me into the rock pylon beneath us, straddling my waist and pinning my legs. There is nothing but white noise in our ragged breaths, indistinguishable from the thundering waterfall and the throbbing of my cheek.
And my first thought is, He came.
But I had already made up my mind long before, years before I met him, before I met any of them. I never asked them to throw their lives away for me. To them, I should have been nothing more than another rival, someone to make them stronger. Never once did I ask for any of them to care about me. I guess, somehow, that they did. Idiots.
I tell him that as he crouches above me, indignant with fury. My spatter of blood slips down his cheek like some brilliant, crimson tear.
Because I didn't want to go back to any of that. Not childish jokes in the hall. Not my comrades defending me. Not their picture on my windowsill at night. Not his cleverly disarming smiles. Those things made me weak. They made me lose sight of my goal by making me feel, filling me with stupid notions.
Orochimaru promises none of those things.
And if I'm already empty, am I not already a vessel? Take away their foolish friendship, their foolish compassion, and what is left, except a tool for vengeance? What did it matter who used me, as long as I got what I wanted in return? My objective. It had nothing to do with any of them. Nothing to do with him.
My left eye itches, and I can feel the seal burning through me, freezing away those parts I don't want, don't need.
"I'll take you back with force…" he screams, and my hands tighten around his shirt. He is so warm, his legs across my stomach, the fury in his eyes, his breath on my face. My eyes widen at the passion in his voice, and suddenly there's pain in my chest, at the back of my throat, just as suddenly snuffed by the ice in my veins.
There are no thoughts as my fists pull him closer. I can vaguely taste blood on my lips. Certainly, there are no regrets.
I am empty, I am a tool, and I deserve nothing less.