#8: Prisons

Fandom: Naruto

Pairing: Sakura-centric, one-sided Sasuke/Sakura, kinda sorta implied Naruto/Sasuke

Rating: PG

Word Count: 356

Summary/Description: Love is a prison, a condition of the mind.

Warning/Spoilers: Angst. Depressing. If you didn't know me, you'd swear I hated SasuSaku. Sneaky little bits of shounen-ai that snuck their way in. No spoilers.

A/N: Promised myself I would never write one of these. (shrug) Ah, well, I'm used to cornering my muse and gang-raping him into submission, anyway. 8D


Love is a condition of the mind, as much as it is of the heart. You do not choose to fall in love; it is purely by chance. And as such, it is not by chance that you stay in love, it is a decision bred out of choice.

Sakura knows that he cannot love her.

It hits her every time he looks at her, sees straight through her. Sasuke has always been a painfully pragmatic person, and she knows that it is not in him to see what could become of their love, the lengths that she would go to order to glean his affection. The pathway of an avenger is not a forked road, and even if it were, Sasuke would not be taking any detours. He only sees what is right in front of him, and Sakura has never been strong enough.

There is only Naruto.

Naruto, who he can fight, and be on par with. Naruto who is fast becoming as strong as, stronger even, than him. Naruto, who he burns to best, to surpass, the opponent that he uses as the yardstick to measure his strength. Naruto, his best friend, his rival, his enemy, and everything else between and beyond.

Sakura is no fool. She knows that this love is in no way beneficial to her; she knows that Sasuke shall forever remain oblivious and uncaring; she knows that there is next to nothing that she can do that will change his mind. Sasuke's consciousness runs in concentric circles around him, and she knows that she, and maybe not even Naruto, is not within that inner circle reserved for his brother.

It is something of a prison that she has constructed for herself, with bars that further constrict with each day that passes. She is sure she could get out in time if she wanted to… but she has made her decision.

For even prisons of the mind cannot stand against love, that symptom of an incurable disease that seeps into one's pores, poisonous and deadly, alluring and sweet. The heart cannot help it; the mind will not let go of it.


A/N: Comments loved and appreicated.