The boy gripped his heart with what felt like the last of his strength but his condition would not allow his body to whither into a barren stick like he kept begging it to. It was still hungry with a desire for him to forsake himself.
His body finally dropped as he wrenched on the floor in a display entirely atypical of his life up to now. If one were not careful they would deem the boy with a terrible stomach ache because they were unable to see within him - at the dark hands that manifest from every direction and vied for a piece of his heart.
Power was all he wanted. Just a little power to make all his dreams come true. Was that asking too much?
The price for power was too high. It came in waves of, not ordinary mundane pain, but existential sadness that flooded the corridors of his mind with such velocity as to wipe away his consciousness and leave him a formless puppet destined to flail in the dust for all eternity.
Suddenly, as if reminded by the mossy, pitiless tree towering over him, he pictured the beautiful face of that pink-haired one. That one that treated him as if he were some hero from the storybooks that would brave any danger in order to save the princess.
Even though his head was beaten again and again from every angle, the picture of that girl along with the idea of what he could be, this knight, this hero. This thought stayed with him like a small island in the darkness that kept him awake for a few extra seconds.
Suddenly he heard a scream - it was her scream.
Somehow, he was able to steady himself, using that little island to seize control of the body that he was in. There was hieroglyph-like tattoos all over him now and they acted like chains that kept him attached to the inner-workings of the terra.
But, when he moved he was fast. Power was power, for sure, even if he could not tell where he was going.
Before he knew what he was doing he saw once more through the pinhole of his consciousness that face again, with the small chin and small nose so innocent. And then the eyes that still looked at him just like they always did - like he was going to make everything okay because he was strong. Like he was better than himself.
The first shadow person was pulling the roots of the girls pink hair. The tormenter showed nothing but disregard.
Sasuke knew that the only thing that stopped the torturer from pulling the pink girl's hair off like a wig along with her head of was a lack of strength, strength that he had as he reached the tormenter like a bullet and fulfilled its sick wish on itself.
There was more. More torturers of the girl. He did not know how many more because they seemed to scream and then stop before he had a chance to think about them, leaving only red liquid from each of their bodies on his hands and face as a reminder that they had once existed.
The foreign screams had stopped, but still he had expected to follow the desperate cry of a young girl who had just been tortured and was unable to find a reprieve from the trauma, but instead he followed her delicate breaths, stealing glimpses of a light that would fade in and out of the blackness covering his eyes.
He was rocking back and forth now - the garbling darkness in his gut threatening to push through his skull and let it all be over. He probably looked like the devil's son but he somehow managed to extend his hand.
Then, he took hold of her hand. No, she took hold of his hand, grabbed him and pulled his body and soul out of despair like only someone with true feelings could.
He looked at her crisp complexion for what seemed like the first time, with the pink hair that travelled in the wind without ever leaving him.
The atmosphere became one of cherry blossoms, petals swirling about between every breath that they shared.
The problem was, her skin was so fair that he believed she would disappear if he took a single step forward. She was so perfect that maybe the dark tendrils that waited for him in the forest were a better match for his company.
Before he could finish his thought she pulled herself into him, the scent of a new kind of forest surrounding him like a mist and dropping the chains from his body as quickly as they had taken hold of him.