Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me but to some Japanese guy or is it a woman? Don't care but it doesn't belong to me or Sasuke and Naruto would be going at it like rabbits ...

I know I shouldn't have written anything now but that popped up in my head as I heard a song ... originally I wanted to write a little story that while sad would end happy ... Phew ..

Warning: I don't really know but perhaps this is a little angsty and it shonenai ... boyxboy if you don't understand

Yours truly, Siria

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Madness in love

I never meant to love him.

But he was like a drug. I got a taste once and I had to taste him again.

I knew he didn't love me. He only played with me. He played with my mind loving the power he had over me mentally because physically I was the stronger one betweeen the two of us.

He stayed by my side in the knowledge he could break me the moment he grew tired of messing with me. And it hurt. I wanted him to love me truly. But this was reality. And he was straight.

In his own way he wanted revenge on me. I had not only abandoned him when I left the place where I had been born and spend my childhood but had caused him distress too. He wanted me to suffer for all the pain and misery he had to endure. I was sure of it.

I knew he loved the way I would bow to his every whim. How I would follow every order of him. How I would go through hell and back to fulfill a wish he made. It made me vulnerable in his eyes. He could really hurt me. He enjoyed that the most.

When I was young, really young before my family was killed by my own brother, I wanted to find a beautiful, nice girl and get a child or two and live on happily ever after. I wanted a love like it was described in fairy-tales. I imagined my whole family would stand beside me and smile for me and my father would be proud of me and say „That's my son."

Needless to say after the massacre happened everything changed.

Yes, I still wanted children but not for the sake of love or happiness but just to let my clan rise to the top again. And for that I needed many children. For how could I complete my goal when there is barely a clan?

But he had to charm me. Oh I still followed my goal but not with my heart.

In the moment we kissed – true it was an accident but it didn't matter – I knew he was the one. I was lost.

For the sake of my reputation I pretended I hated the kiss. Hated even him. But unknown to anyone I watched over him from then on.

I saw how he would be happy go lucky in front of us, his teammates, and how good his mask was. I saw that he was as lonely as me.

But I still had the village. It admired me, cherished me. The survivor of a prominent clan, the last heir of a powerful family, the last of the pride of the village.

But he was in that regard the complete opposite of me. The adults hated him, despised him. They warned their children to stay away because he would eat them or he was the devil or something stupid like that resulting in a very lonely past for him.

It was unfair. He didn't do anything to any of them. Back then when I was 12 I had a hard time controlling my temper. There was more than one time when I wanted to jump out of my hiding place and beat everyone up who dared to insult him, hurt him or glared at him. But that would have meant beating up the entire village except perhaps four people.

But what really drew me in was that he was so much like an old man who has experienced everything life could throw at him yet he was naive and too trusting like a child. Innocent, too.

I wanted to protect that. I wanted to protect his innocence and I didn't want him to cry ever again.

He never cried in front of anyone but in the solitude of his own home he let all walls break. He would have never done that if he had known he was spied upon.

When that happened I wanted to hug him and never let go of him. But I had a reputation to keep. And besides I bet he would have been shocked to see his rival, the bastard, comfort him. He wouldn't have accepted that. Or perhaps he would if I hadn't grown scared.

The force of my growing feelings scared me. I was afraid to love. I was afraid if I loved someone I would only lose that person again. And I could still remember his words the words of my brother in the night my parents died.

So I ran away. The offer of that pedophile came to the right time. And like the coward I was I escaped to him betraying everything I had known and even hurting nearly killing my love.

If I had stayed perhaps he would have loved me. But you reap what you sow.

It were excruciating years. Instead of my feelings fading away over time they only got stronger. Distance makes the heart grow fonder ,huh?

When I saw him the first time after three years I nearly died of shock. Not that it could be seen. I always put on my mask of indifference. He had grown so much!

I still hadn't matured enough so I sprouted lies of why I hadn't killed him. I felt proud I could lie with a straight face and I even got to hug him, It was disguised as a threat but better than nothing.

I escaped him and his friends with the pedophile and his disgusting sidekick.

Shortly after I killed the pedophile because I was sick of him and he didn't teach me anything anymore. I assembled my own team. They were useful in searching for my brother even if we needed two years to corner my brother.

It was with a sick satisfaction that I killed my own brother.

Unfortunately my team died but it wasn't of my concern anymore. Now I had completed my revenge I couldn't wait to get back to my birth place and my love.

I didn't expect to be allowed back without a punishment but the council and the villagers still loved me and didn't want to lose my precious family ability so I was taken back with a really mild punishment.

I was excited to see my love. I had to apologize to him and thank him for never giving up on me.

But when I found him and my female former teammate I found out they did give up on me. But it didn't really matter to me. I only wanted to be united with my love.

But he ignored me. He pretended I didn't exist.

It was painful. I did everything I could to make him see me. The roles were reversed now. Where he tried to get my attention when we were young ( he got it but I never said anything) it was now me trying to get his attention.

Someday, it was over one year after my return, I used all my courage and confessed to him. How much I loved him. How much I craved him. How much I desired him.

He stood there gaping like the idiot he sometimes was. Then he yelled at me saying that I was crazy and it was sick to love your own gender. Beside he was straight thank you very much. And I couldn't help but fuel his fire with saying that he was too short for women anyway and looked like a girl himself.

I said this to cover up how much his words broke my heart. But I could swear that he had seen my crushed expression the short moment it had been on my face.

The next few days I was in the worst mood ever and let it show. I glared at everything and everyone and they would have been killed if it were possible.

Then the unimaginable happened. He started to flirt me. My love, my crush, flirted with me! Of course I flirted right back.

Then our relationship began. I couldn't believe my luck and was happier than ever.

So what that I wouldn't have children ? My family had consisted of lunatics and mentally unstable murderers anyway also why tempt danger?

I was so happy that I noticed too late that he used me. And after I found out he never did anything to hide it. He made me do the things he didn't want to do. He treated me like a slave and he cheated on me describing every of his affairs in great detail.

He took pleasure out of my pained face every time and laughed at me.

He knew I knew that I was nothing but a toy for him.

So why didn't I break up with him? He wasn't the one I fell in love anymore. My love had turned to a cruel monster. But that wasn't entirely true. He was only that way towards me. Nobody else. In a way I felt special.

And I still loved him.

And I still saw how childish he was.

Every time there was a thunderstorm he would tremble during it except when I would hug him. He would try to hide in me. These were the only times he allowed me to touch him without pushing me away when I didn't have his permission.

This fear ofs thunderstorm when he was strong of to cause one himself was utterly childish and cute. It reminded me the reason of why I fell in love with him in the first place.

So I continued to stay by his side. Even if he crushed me. Even if he broke my heart over and over again. Even if I didn't mean a thing to him.

Because he was still a child and in all my madness I still loved him.

Love wasn't after all meant to be easy or rational, right?