S: Hello! Another very random, very short piece. It's written from Naruto's POV, although that isn't really stated anywhere in the story itself. Be warned, not happy.
Disclaimer: How many times do we need to go through this? I'm not Japanese. I'm not rich. I can't draw worth a damn. Who still thinks I own it?
SPOILERS: The first half of the story roughly follows cannon through the Chuunin Exam/Sasuke Betrayal arc. The second half probably goes AU, since the translated manga keep poor fools like me so far behind the rest of the world.
WARNINGS: Okay, this one is another piece of primarily Onyx's work. Like the Yu-Gi-Oh story Addiction, it has heavy angst and mild, implied shonen-ai , but this one actually does include character death and suicide. If any of these topics offend you, DO NOT READ THIS STORY. I will not be held responsible for reader stupidity. Those of you that still wish to read, enjoy, and please leave a review on your way out! (bows) Thank you!
A Thousand Shades of Black
He was always a thousand shades of black. In fact, every shade of black I've ever seen was a part of him, all wrapped up in one gloomy little package. One gloomy little package that was the closest thing I ever had to a true companion. He was my worst enemy and my best friend. He was Sasuke Uchiha.
If I close my eyes, I can see him now. The glossy blue-black of his hair, black like the wings of ravens. It's a silky black, a soft and gleaming black. He always took very good care of his hair. It was vain of him. He pretended it didn't matter, but I know he kept a comb in his shuriken pouch. Vain little bastard.
He's a thousand shades of black. The shade I liked best was the pure, glittering black of his eyes, those endless, drowning black irises, a shade beyond any night sky I'd ever seen. Those eyes were pure obsidian, and they cut through me more keenly than any blade.
The dull, graphite black of our weapons, he's that black too. The silver-black of the metal that makes our ninja tools, the shuriken and kunai that he used so efficiently.
He is every shade of black. The flat, matte-black of that outfit he wore for the end of the Chuunin exams, that dull and unflattering black that makes his skin look so pale, as pale as death, and makes the glossy black of his hair and the glittering black of his eyes look even darker.
Sasuke's the black of a moonless night, with the darkness of the rolling stormclouds beneath it. He's the eternal shadows of a black heart, the unending darkness of a shattered soul. He is the black despair of betrayal.
Ten years later, Sasuke was still a thousand shades of black. He's the black of the sky at night, the black of our weapons as they clash. I'm doomed to remember him like this, as the black of blood under the light of a sickle moon, as the black of a kunai in a pale throat. The absolute black of a funeral shroud covering his face as I carry him back to the village. He will be forever in my memory as the thick black smoke of a funeral pyre.
Even his name is black, now, cold and black, the pitiless black of the Memorial Stone. I carved his name there myself, after the Village Elders ordered me not to. It came out a little crooked, but Sasuke isn't here to care. It suits him, in a way. Sasuke was always cold and dark and just a little bit messy. A memory carved in black. That's all he is, anymore.
He's the black of the kunai I take in my hand, the black of the blood running from my wrists under that same sickle moon. How many years has it been, Sasuke? How many years since we last spoke, last fought? Did I ever tell you that you were every shade of black I ever knew?
He's the black of my memory, of my vision as it fades. Sasuke, my friend, I'll be seeing you again soon. You and all your shades of black.
o o o o o o o o o o