Chapter 2: The Avenger


"We are brothers. I am the wall you must climb over, so you and I will continue to exist together."


Perhaps, in a different existence; a different dimension, things would not have become such. There would not be bloodshed or sorrow, death and destruction. But instead, there was crimson spilling from speechless lips and tears falling from empty eyes. There amidst the blood and death and hell on earth, stood a lone figure.

Scarlet and ebony eyes glanced about the clearing as the raven-haired shinobi cast a gloomy atmosphere upon the surroundings. He carried with him his own mood, his own world blending to bleed into the impressionable edges of the surroundings. The snow upon the ground which may have once been a pure white was stained black, and turned to slick ice. The white powder turned to slush and mixed itself wight the dirt, searching for something to corrupt its innocent white. The trees stood tall, dark with the absence of leaves who had long since fled. The clearing was hidden among the snow-laden forest and frozen fields, empty save a lone being sitting listlessly upon a outcropping. The frost in the air bit at any exposed skin, as if in vengeance for attempting to thwart its efforts to chill its victims into a cold and dreamless sleep, never to reawaken.

The droplets of water falling from the skies had frozen, the tears of the clouds bitter and angry, creating a world covered in permafrost. The lamenting beings of heaven spun delicate patterns that were impossible to see, appearing as a blanket of white to the land below. The coverlet of snowfall from the previous blizzard was not to cleanse the world of its sins, but left as a painful reminder of the burgeoning consequences as the populations prepared for war.

The frigid flurry left naught but frostbitten toes, drafty hearths and snowflake covered lashes, glad to be rid of the earth in the midst of its chaos. Left in its place, only the wind whipped about the abandoned clearing as pale hands pulled an onyx coat closer to his body in a vain attempt to preserve any warmth left in the barren landscape.

For even those who appear of frozen hearts seek the warmth in the hopes of a melted and thawed life. And he may have had ownership of it once. Instead, he had traded it for one of solitary companionship.

Now, as he sat in the chilling winter, he allowed himself a brief period of regret. He had not done this often, or ever since the lost days of his childhood. It left him with a powerful mixture of emotions, of unadulterated conscience, bitterness, and anguish. It was crippling, and weakened whatever resolve he had left. Perhaps it was the howling wind that had broken through his last defenses, but he was unable to resist the temptation to experience feelings again after so long.

So his mind wandered, encouraged by the stretch of deafening silence betwixt the regular cacophony of his thoughts. He thought of warmer days of summer, after the destructive tragedy that was his family, when he had fallen headfirst into his next family, all members broken, but the four pieces had made a whole. He thought of the time he had jeered at a jester that had the audacity to proclaim he was lost on the road of life, but then again, weren't they all? He thought of his former sensei, the last part of a family gone wrong and surviving remainder of a team. Of how he had felt akin to this strange man, who seemed at first glance to have no priorities, but rested with the weight of the entire world upon his shoulders. He thought of the girl named after the cherry blossoms blooming in the thawing spring, another lost being. How he had envied her, with a perfect family, and how easily she was willing to sacrifice it all, to come with him. In one of his moments of weakness that could be counted on one hand, he hadn't let her make that mistake. She couldn't see where she was destined to be, following the conventions of society and her closest friend. And the last. The boy whose namesake was of the bravest shinobi in all the world. Who he had believed could not possibly understand. As if knowing and losing were not the same as having lost. He now knew, and now he regretted. Their furious bickering would have become friendly banter and smirks into smiles. Threats would have become challenges, and single words, conversations. Hatred turned friendship.

He missed the races with the rest of his classmates up large hills, the distinct scent of pine trees and fresh dirt clinging to every inch of his clothing, and the heaving of his chest as adrenaline and deep breaths rushed through him. He missed nights out at the ramen stands with old friends, when the world seemed too huge to possibly comprehend. He missed night skies and stargazing with a girl he cared deeply for, and the possibilities of gentle caresses of lips sometime in the future. He missed coming home after a long day, to find friends waiting for him with sake and more food and joys of companionship than he could ever possibly have.

But how could he miss comrades he has never had? How could he miss races he had never run? Ramen he had never tasted? Lips he had never kissed? Happiness he had never felt?

None of it mattered. He had left the village in a furious storm, never turning back. He had left with cutting words, and a scratch upon his brow. And he had turned. To a life he couldn't have possibly created anything from. But he had been so blinded with a thirst for revenge, so utterly consumed.

He had gathered strength and power, and the same eyes as his sibling. And he had destroyed him. The truth had been told too late. Unbeknownst to any witnesses, Itachi had told him the truth as they sparred, but it wasn't until it was too late that Sasuke believed him. And with a cry of 'When will I ever see you again?' came an all too certain response of 'How often do you close your eyes?'

It had been true. Every single last bit of it. Itachi haunted his memories and dreams turned nightmares every evening.

And he had been left alone. Again. Desperate for a family, he had searched for them, and once gathered, he called them Taka. But it was not the same. Detached from his emotions, until this very moment.

For the third time in his life, he cried. The tears froze quickly, and stung his cheeks, leaving red trails upon too-white cheeks. Scarlet eyes became vermillion as the weeping ran its course. They were soundless sobs, that wracked his entire frame. He wept for what he never had. If he had resisted a little longer, relented in his misery and pain, he could be in the village of Konoha, and may not have been the catalyst for this war. The war he dreaded with every fiber of his being. The war that would tear apart so many more families and nations needlessly. Comrade against comrade, team against team, brother against brother, he thought all too bitterly.

He didn't see the snow swirling around him, raven hair whipping in the wind, cloak billowing behind him as he remained motionless. All he saw were the possibilities of futures he had not known existed. That were no longer possible. Fingers wrapped in bandages swept under unseeing eyes to wipe away the fallen liquid pain. Impossibly his heart wrenched, as he stood, begging him to stay in the clearing, to end his pathetic existence. Willing him to stay in the ice and freeze, allowing the moments of feelings that were welcomed like a refreshing monsoon in a desert that had gone far too long without water. The embrace of an endless slumber beckoned with outstretched arms, but he resisted. For the chances of a future so slim, it could pass through the fabric of space and time.

And so he left the clearing, his black cloak a shadow, followed him. His mind still played the deeply rooted memories that had never existed, like a bird's tune flying high above a village in the summertime, upon the back of blue feathered wings as children ran about its green hills and civilians walked through tiny alleyways and crowded streets beneath the eyes of four watchful village leaders immortalized in stone. His mind still played the deeply rooted memories that had never existed, more beautiful than bird's song on a summer's day. His mind tortured him, and all his little matchbox girl fantasies.


I take back Sasuke being a complete jerk. ;-;

All of a sudden in the latest chapters of the manga he has feelings. And I was kinda intrigued by them.

So R & R please!

Thanks!

~ Narutard77