Disclaimer- I don't own Naruto.
Wow. This is SOOOO emotionally draining. You have no idea how hard it is to write a full page of the inner workings and heart of a broken criminal. Really hard. Especially when you spent the weekend embracing your inner eleven year old by watching Hannah Montana and The Suite Life on Deck. Please don't stop reading, I don't do it often. God my brain cells are fried.
Enjoy!
Suffering.
He knew what it meant to suffer. Orochimaru had suffered beyond what normal men could possible imagine. But Orochimaru was not a normal man. His parents were dead and he hated the idea. Why should humans have to leave this Earth? Why should life end after so fleeting a presence? No one he asked, not his sensei or his friends, could answer that question he burned to know. He suffered every day he had to forgo the answer to that unanswerable question.
Unreachable.
They were unreachable. Orochimaru cried out for them, begged them to help him when he was alone and frightened, but his pleas were ignored. He was broken and upset and worst of all, alone. No one would come help him because all the people who cared about him were dead. He could not get to their embraces, never. The people he loved were forever out of reach. All he wanted was to touch them, to hear their words of support and to know that they love him. But who knew what lay beyond the unfathomable depths of the dead? Orochimaru didn't.
Hope.
Orochimaru hated hope. It rose up in his as he preformed horrible experiments on his test subjects, children that screamed with the same loss he had once screamed with. Hope rose up in his like a plague, something to try to eradicate but something that never went away. Hope drove him to try and find a cure for the disease that was man. The moments he was the most bloodthirsty were the moments he was the most hopeful. He hated and despised and yearned for hope.
Dread.
With hope came dread. Dread that he felt as every attempt failed. Dread that was replaced with hope that was replaced with dread until an endless cycle had been established. He managed to create facsimiles of real people, people he could control. But they spited him and hated him because they had been happy beyond the grave. Orochimaru could not understand it, and not understanding it caused unbelievable dread.
Hatred.
He hated himself. He was a horrible excuse for a human being, one who did nothing but hurt others. He hated himself so much that all he wanted was to change bodies and start again, because maybe if he had a different face to look at then he could live with himself. But the soul was the same, and he vowed to kill anyone who could remember what he was like. He hated himself for that, too.
Longing.
He longed for what they had. He longed for absolute certainty that his village was right, that he was happy and could fight for his village. But what he longed for even more than that was the absolute certainty that he could bring back the only people who loved him. He longed for it and worked towards it and killed for it.
Finding Peace.
He was a fool. He was a complete fool for not realizing that he had people who would have taken place of the people that he had lost. He himself had killed one of the people who had loved him, Sarutobi. He had tried to kill Jiraiya and Tsunade and Anko, but he would never be so foolish again. He would never have the chance.
Having ties with others didn't make you weak. It made you strong. And as Orochimaru died, he knew he still had ties with those who must care about him though all of the sins he had committed. He was not alone and he did not need the dead to be alive, even it he was going to be dead himself.
He had always feared dying. He should have feared living, because he was a fool. Orochimaru died knowing that, and he died content that he was not going to have to lose anyone else.
This one turned out well, I think. Do you think so? Please tell me! XD Only Madara and Zetsu left...I've already started on Zetsu's, so he's next!
