Home was where the heart was... at least that's what they said...
Home: a place to feel safe and secure; a place where nothing could touch you, nothing could harm you. A place where you could feel loved and welcomed...like you belonged...
Yes, home was where the heart was... but what of those who had no home? What of those who wandered without a place; those who had turned their back upon all that home meant? Were they heartless?
...It certainly felt that way...
Sasuke had long since abandoned his faith in home. The very concept of such a place seemed foreign, and it had been so long since he'd felt the warmth of it that it didn't even matter anymore. He felt no connection. No attachment. He had no regrets, no anger... no feeling at all. He was empty. If home was where the heart was... then Sasuke was heartless.
It had been three years since the Uchiha had turned his back on Konoha; three years since he'd given up his past to pursue his future. Three years since he'd embraced his hatred and given up on ever leading a normal life. He was an avenger, nothing else. As long as he attained his goals and accomplished what he was meant to...he could die in peace. He'd released his former self; embraced his emptiness; turned his back and severed his ties. He cared for no one; felt no empathy or grief.
Sasuke had reached the stage every Shinobi spoke of: the emptiness. The inability to feel regret, remorse or sympathy. He was no longer human, but a cold-hearted snake; manipulative and cruel. His eyes shone only with the light of determination and the fire of vengeance. He feared nothing: not the loss of a comrade, nor the sting of a blade. Not even death. Like a moth at the flame, Sasuke flickered in and out of death's grasp; testing it's patience, teasing it's ignorance. Yes, even death was a fool for Sasuke. Like so many before, it pursued him; clung to him; desired him, all without ever realizing it had lost control. To death, Sasuke was a muse, a toy, a temporary lover; and, completely blind to it's weakness, it continued playing the game until it became so infatuated that it no longer held power. That was Sasuke's game; he created weakness. His being, his darkness, his hatred... all of him was desirable. He was a demon; an irresistible tyrant; a cold, unreachable prince of darkness, sat upon a throne of lies and deceit. And there he remained; gazing down at all those who lay at his feet. There was no weakness in his eyes; no doubt, no fear. He was what he'd become, and there was no turning back. Besides... what was there to turn back to?