A/N: Thank you for waiting! I'm glad the last chapter was well-received; I had been worried about it due to the writing choices I made. I talked about this when replying to some reviews, but I wanted to explain publicly:

1) I know a lot of people love Itachi and see him as the perfect big brother. I love him too, but it would be a disservice to his character to deny how much he damaged Sasuke, even if he loved him. There's still a lot to be told regarding Itachi, his lies, and the past, so please look forward to it!

2) I wrote about Naruto having depression due to him being Sasuke's literary foil. They both experience similar issues, but deal with them in opposite ways, so this development was natural. Moreover, many people think depression only manifests itself in the way I've written Sasuke—when someone is visibly sad, irritable, and withdrawn. But some people with depression are able to mask it, and you might never be able to tell they're depressed unless they talk about it. I think it's important to acknowledge that someone might be struggling even if they seem happy.

Anyway, this is a chapter I think many people have been looking forward to for a long time, so I hope you enjoy it!

"We accept the love we think we deserve."

- Stephen Chbosky

Bzzt bzzt! Bzzt bzzt!

My phone vibrates on the night table, and I groan. What's the point of an alarm if I never fall asleep anyway? Between the constant headaches and stomach pain, sleep never comes anymore. My mind is racing knowing that I get my report card today, and just the thought of showing it to Father makes me nauseous. He's been better about not drinking lately, but it's only a matter of time until the monster inside him resurges—it's the natural consequence of my actions. I packed my dress clothes in my backpack, so I'm already prepared to not go home until after the regional music festival tonight, but it's only delaying the inevitable. I don't have a choice. Time ticks on with or without me.

Sighing, I grab my phone to shut off the alarm. 2:30 AM. It's the only way I can go out running for a few hours and come back early enough to guarantee Nii-san will still be asleep. Even though I still don't have all the answers about the accident, I don't want anything to do with him. I can't forgive him.

I push myself upright and brace myself. As expected, my room starts spinning sideways, and I close my eyes to avoid feeling sick again. Everything aches. I'm exhausted. But somehow my body is so resilient that my heart keeps beating.

Once the room comes to a standstill, I head for the bathroom. My fingers flit by the light switch, but I leave the lights off. There's no point. I'll see my revolting body, analyze the pounds of fat still ruining me, then hate myself even more.

But something compels me to look anyway.

I flick the lights on, but immediately shut my eyes—No. I can't look. I can't stand myself as it is.

But I can't help myself. I peek my eyes open, only to be filled with horror. It's worse than I expected. Fat. Fat fat fat fat fat. Globs of fat hanging from my arms, my gut overflowing from my waistband, huge love handles jutting from my hips. I'm so disgusted that I ever let myself get this way. I'd stay in my room forever if I could—the thought of anyone seeing what I've become makes me want to hurl. I'm an embarrassment to myself and my family.

But then I step on the scale, and the display lights up. 90 pounds. I'm so close to hitting 40 kilograms now, but somehow I look even bigger than before. This doesn't make any sense at all. I have to do something so I can finally, finally rid myself of this useless flesh. I've already upped my exercise routine, but it's not enough. I have to cut more calories out of my diet. 250 calories per day should work, and maybe I can ease up on the restrictions once I reach my goal. I'll be fine. Of course I'll be fine.

I'm not fine. Everything has changed. I don't even recognize myself anymore. When I first moved here, all I wanted to do was get good grades, get into Harvard, and make Father proud of me. Now I've become a disgusting mess, my grades have slipped, and Father hates me. I can't face anybody. It's an effort just to live, and I don't see the point in it.

Fog clouds my vision. Good. It's my only defence against despair. But then all light ripples and fades into darkness. The fog…it's changing. It's dissolving into ice-cold water, filling my glass cage until I am submerged, drowning, dying. But I can't even struggle. I can't move. I can't breathe.

Darkness.

…

A sharp pain rips through my stomach. My bow clatters onto the floor, but I manage to hold on to my violin as I sink to the floor. The sound of terrible orchestral music drowns out my haggard breathing, and all I can do is hang my head. Sweat prickles my forehead, but just as the pain starts to die down, another stabbing pain seers through my stomach, and I barely suppress the urge to vomit. I lay my violin beside me and wrap my arms around my torso.

…I blacked out again. I'm in the practice room, so I must have come early to rehearse for tonight, but I can't remember any of it. I've lost time to the fog before, but this time was…different. Deeper. How long has it been? With one hand I slide my phone out of my pocket and tap the screen, only to bite my lip. 8:43 AM. I lost six hours this time, and the day is just starting.

What is happening to me? I have so many blanks in my memory. My mind is collapsing. I have no idea what I did before I got here, but it looks like my body manages to function without me. My arms feel like lead, my hips ache, and my head is still pulsating, so I must have completed my exercise routine. It's a good thing I'm alone right now—if Nii-san, Father, or even Naruto saw me like this, I don't know how I would explain myself. They'd tell me all I have to do is eat, and the hole in my stomach would go away. Lies. All lies.

I grimace as another wave of pain hits my stomach. Maybe I can eat a little bit. No, I can't do that. But I can eat something now without going over my calorie limit. No, I can't afford to eat anything. I only have 250 calories I'm allotted per day. Besides, if I eat now…maybe I won't be able to stop. My stomach is begging for food, and it's up to me to restrain it.

I take a stick of sugar-free gum out of my pocket, unwrap it, and slip it into my mouth. It's only five calories and should help me last until dinner time, plus it'll stave off the nausea. It's going to be okay.

But my hands are shaking. I could deal with the fog before, but now…even that has changed.

Ding dong.

I curse as the school bell rings. I have five minutes to pull myself together, put away everything, and get to class. My stomach still hurts, but my tailbone is pressing into the floor and making me more uncomfortable anyway. Grimacing, I manage to stand, but lean against the wall and shut my eyes. Dizzy. Always dizzy. Once the floor feels steady underneath my feet, I hastily put away my violin in its case, grab my sheet music and backpack, and head to my locker.

Even the world looks different now. The sky is permanently overcast no matter how much the sun shines, and the cherry blossom petals blowing past the windows are stained grey. There's an endless pit inside me, and I don't dare feed it lest I become even more miserable. Even now there's a layer of mist coating everything, and I can't get rid of it. To be back in school after all of this feels so absurd, so unreal. I can't go back to my old life knowing what I've done. Living like this…it's like I'm marching toward my own funeral.

I shove my violin inside my locker and throw my books into my backpack. The more time passes, the closer I get to my report card. I spent so much time in Japan thinking about my memories that I didn't appreciate how Father wasn't there to hurt me. I was free, at least until the yakuza showed up. What does it matter now if the yakuza can't get me here? There are monsters everywhere, even in my own house…even inside me.

I grab my jacket before shutting my locker closed. Students are already rushing through the hallway, but the sound of them chattering is so dissonant, so unnatural it's like I'm still underwater. Somehow I make my way through the crowds and stumble into English class the moment the final bell rings, but as usual, Kakashi isn't here yet. I lay my jacket over my seat before sitting down—at least I can save my backside from bruising, even if not my spine.

"Good morning!"

I glance to my right. It's Sakura. She's looking at me, but she's so far away she might as well be in another galaxy.

But then anxiety wraps its icy tendrils around me. Has she noticed my body? What a whale I've become? She's smiling like nothing's wrong, but I'm sure she's just trying to be nice. I—

"Ready for the music festival tonight?" she asks.

I try to reply, but everything is turning grey again, so nodding is all I can manage.

"You guys have a performance tonight?" A voice comes from behind me. Naruto. He hasn't said anything yet, but I know he can tell how obese—

"Yup! And don't forget that we have another Team 7 assignment tomorrow," Sakura says, but then she goes quiet. "It's been a while since we've had a full team."

"Wait, what're we doing again?" Naruto says. "Picking up something at Wreck Beach?"

"Naruto, don't you pay attention? Kakashi told us yesterday!" she scolds. "We're meeting at the bus stop in Stanley Park tomorrow at 8:00 AM to pick up garbage. You can't be late again like last time!"

8:00 AM. If we finish early enough, there's no risk of going for lunch. It'll be safe. It's just…watching them bicker like this, the distance between us feels insurmountable. There's a wall, no, a gulf between me and them, and it can never be closed. They're laughing, but it's so far away, so foreign. I don't know how to be like them. I don't belong here. I don't belong anywhere.

"Morning, class." The door opens behind me, and Kakashi strolls in. "Sorry, I was meeting an old friend."

The conversation ends there. I take my copy of Lord of the Flies, my binder, and a pen out of my bag, but as Kakashi drones on and on about humanity's capacity for evil, my eyelids grow heavy. I won't fall asleep—the headache and stomach pain won't let me—but I'm so exhausted my mind is numb. I can't focus. I'm managing to take notes from the slides, but the words mean nothing to me. No matter how hard I try to pay attention, try to dispel the remnants of the fog, it's no use. I'm not here.

Light, sound, colour, they're all distorted. The surface is frozen solid, and I can bang on the ice as much as I want, but I'm trapped. The world goes on, so happy, so carefree, and nobody notices that I'm drowning. Even my body is out there with the rest of the world, but I'm not. Light scatters around me, and I'm sinking into the darkness.

Even time is turning into water—it runs through my fingers like nothing. I was in English class a second ago, and somehow now it's lunchtime. My body remembers to skip lunch and run, run like my life depends on it, because it's the only way to rid myself of this fat corroding my body. But then the scenery changes to a lab filled with vials and Bunsen burners, and I'm stuck writing down all these words that don't make any sense to me. Whenever someone stops to ask me something, I manage to reply, but it's all noise, just noise. And now it's already the end of the school day.

The end of the school day.

My report card.

"Are you okay with Naruto being here?"

I blink. The water again. It's so much worse than the fog. But the fog is still curled around my heart, and it makes everything seem so unreal.

"Are you listening, Sasuke?"

I look up. Right. It's Kakashi making me attend one of his stupid sessions after school again. And Naruto is sitting beside me, staring at me.

"You're back to normal again?" Naruto looks tense.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I can move my mouth again.

"It sounds like you didn't hear. Naruto tells me he's concerned about you," Kakashi says. "He asked us if he could join our session today in order to address this."

He did what?

"Yeah, I mean, I was used to you being spacey before, but now you're a total zombie." Naruto casts his eyes downward before looking back at me. "It's like you're not even here."

Because I'm not.

"We've also noticed that you've lost a lot of weight," Kakashi mentions. "We're worried it could be a health issue."

"What, is this an intervention?" I narrow my eyes. I don't know what they're talking about. No matter what the scale says, I can clearly see how fat—

"We just want to help you, Sasuke." Naruto's eyes look pained. "I feel like I've been watching you disappear."

All I want to do is disappear.

"Help me with what? I'm doing just fine."

Naruto shakes his head. "You haven't come to eat lunch with us in months. Do you even eat anymore? When's the last time you talked to Ino, Kiba, Shikamaru, any of the others? Yeah, you were quiet before, but never like this. So much has happened, especially during March Break, and—"

"Shut the hell up," I snarl. "What did you tell Kakashi?" If he dared tell him about the accident, I'll—

"Language, Sasuke," Kakashi says.

"Nothing! Nothing, I swear," Naruto says. "I only told him that I'm worried because…you've changed."

Changed? Of course I have. Now that I know what I've done, the blood I've shed…there's no way I could be the same as before. I'm drifting through this world as a ghost of the person I once was.

Kakashi leans back in his chair. "I don't know anything beyond the superficial details of the time you were missing. It's up to you to tell me anything else."

"If you don't want to talk to him, you know my grandma's a doctor, right?," Naruto says. "She's a psychiatrist, and—"

"I don't need anyone's help!" I stand from my chair, but it's a mistake. The room starts whirling, and I stumble backward before clutching onto Kakashi's desk to steady myself.

"You okay?" Naruto's arm is half-reached out to grab me.

"I just tripped," I snap.

"Well, I see this will go nowhere as long as you don't want to talk about it." Kakashi swivels back and forth in his chair. "But there's one other thing I want to talk to you about before I give you your report card. Naruto, you can go home now."

Naruto makes a face. "But—"

"We'll talk more about this another time," Kakashi says. "For now, you need to go home. This might take a while."

"But—"

"No buts."

Naruto pouts, but reluctantly heads for the door. "Okay, fine. But I'll see you tonight, Sasuke!"

He waves, and then the door shuts behind him. I turn back to face Kakashi, but just the sight of his smug face makes me want to flip his desk over.

"What do you want?" My voice is icy.

Even though most of his face is covered, his one eye looks grim. "I marked your Hamlet essay, and while it's still good, there's a noticeable decline in quality compared to your work at the start of the school year."

My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach, and yet Kakashi keeps going.

"What's more concerning is the content of your essay. As your teacher and guidance counsellor, I'm obligated to bring it up with you."

I cross my arms. "What's the problem?"

"You wrote about how it's better to commit suicide than live another day, Sasuke."

"Because the whole damn play is about Hamlet wanting to die!" My vision flashes red.

Kakashi leans forward. "Your essay by itself would be one thing, but I talked to your other teachers, and we've all noticed that your schoolwork isn't as polished as it used to be. Between that, the incident a few months ago, and Naruto's concerns, there's more than enough evidence for me to call your father—"

"No." My chest is empty. "You can't." Because that would be the end of me.

"Then you have to keep coming to see me after school every day," he says. "No skipping sessions. Not only that, but you have to actually talk to me so I can direct you to suitable resources."

"Fine," I say, and I hold my hand out. "Now give me my report card."

I knew my grades were slipping, but I didn't realize they were this bad. To think that even the teachers are gossiping about it…I can hear them laughing at me, mocking me. Why wouldn't they? I'm the second son of the Uchiha Corporation's CEO, and I'm making a fool of both myself and my family.

Kakashi takes out a brown envelope from his desk drawer. "We'll talk Monday, and I'll have a list of resources for you by Wednesday. I'll be following up with you about this every session, so if things don't change, I'll have to call your father."

I snatch the envelope from his hands and storm out into the empty hallway without another word. Before the door even closes, I rip open the envelope and dump my report card out into my hands.

English. 89.

Biology. 90.

Chemistry. 90.

Business. 88.

My hands start shaking. No. This can't be. I can't accept this. He won't accept this.

I hurl my report card away from me, and the papers scatter through the air. These grades aren't even enough to get into an Ivy League school anymore. What am I supposed to do now? Even if I can get my grades up before the end of the semester, it won't be enough to please Father. And of all courses, my lowest grade is in business. It's laughable. How am I supposed to go home with a report card this bad? This time it won't matter whether or not Father is drunk. Last time I already got the belt, and this time…I might not be able to make it to the Team 7 event tomorrow.

I gather the strewn papers from the ground and shove them in my backpack. As if this wasn't enough, now Naruto and Kakashi are ganging up on me because they think something is wrong with me. I'll go to Kakashi's stupid sessions to get him off my back, but I won't tell him anything. I'll give him the bare minimum just so he doesn't call Father. He wants to talk about Orochimaru? I haven't even heard from Jiraiya in over a month. I don't know what's going on, I don't know what he did to me, and at this rate I never will. At least Orochimaru's in prison—the yakuza have probably never paid a cent for what they did to Mom. Maybe me killing off one of them was supposed to be punishment enough. I won't know unless I ask Nii-san, and that's not something I'm willing to do.

Vomit rises in my throat, and I hold my hand over my mouth. No. I'm not going to throw up here. I have to pull myself together, get changed into my dress clothes, and start rehearsing for tonight, but I can't. I'm suffocating. I close my eyes and try to breathe, but there's no air. I can't even do something so simple as breathe. How could I be so pathetic? I hate myself. I hate myself so much I can't stand it. The dark pit inside myself grows and grows until it overtakes every inch of me, and I too am a monster. I wish I could take my razor blades and hack away at the monster, at my own flesh until I finally disappear, but I'd have to go home to do that, where another monster would only destroy me and leave me half-dead. So now I'm writhing in this empty hallway, and no matter how hard I dig my fingernails into my arms, nothing helps. I'm doomed to this wretched existence with no hope in sight.

The only way to keep the monster at bay is to stop feeding it. I have no choice but to start fasting again until it's finally enough.

The stage lights are too bright. The audience is nothing but a singular black mass, yet they can see me clearly. Me, sitting closest to the audience out of everyone. I bet they can see how fat I am, how my stomach rolls—

There's a nudge in my ribs. Sakura is making a face at me, and she already has her violin up resting against her collarbone. I look up and see Ms. Kurenai with her baton raised, giving me a death stare. Shit. I glance at the sheet music. That's right. We're playing Tchaikovsky's Marche Slave. I have to get it together. I lift my violin under my chin, ready my hand in third position, and take a deep breath. The first few bars are only rests, so I can take a moment to collect myself while the cello, bass, and timpani start the music. There's no time to think about my grades, my body, none of that. It's just me and the music. This is the one thing I'm still good at. I can't mess it up now.

With Ms. Kurenai's baton cue, I gently draw my bow against the D string before shifting back down to first position. The only remotely difficult thing about this piece is all the hand shifting, but the rhythms are simple, there are multiple repeats, and the tempo isn't too fast. Honestly, I'm just glad that the orchestra pieces for today are so simple, or I wouldn't have had nearly as much time to work on Kreutzer and Zigeunerweisen.

But now the first violin part has almost nothing but rests for a dozen bars at a time. I never thought rests would be the hardest part of a piece, but now…my mind keeps straying, and it's a struggle to stay present enough to focus on the music. I know the audience is silently snickering at me, laughing at me because of how awful I look. The chair is digging into my backside, and—

No. Sakura is raising her violin back underneath her chin, and I scramble to do the same. I manage to dig my bow into the strings just in time, but I can barely hear the music over the sound of my own heart thumping against my chest. No. I can't let myself screw up at this now.

Somehow I manage to get through Marche Slave and Bizet's Farandole—it's nothing but simple rhythms and D major scales over and over—but instead of feeling relieved, there's nothing but dread inside me. The audience roars with applause, but next time I perform with the orchestra, it'll be Zigeunerweisen.I'm not ready yet. I'm not even ready for the recital coming up.

Ms. Kurenai gestures at everyone to stand. Shit. I can't faint here, not in front of everyone, but I can't get away with not standing either. Gripping my music stand with one hand, I stand up as slowly as possible, just hoping it's enough. I might look like an idiot, but it's better than collapsing here. Sure enough, I feel the blood rush from my head, but at least the floor hasn't completely swept out from under me.

"Come on!" Sakura nudges me again, and I blink. Almost everyone is gone from the stage. That's right. I have to clear out most of the chairs and stands for the chamber group performance—Neji and the others are already coming up the backstage stairs. Behind all of them is…Hinata. The moment her pale eyes make contact with mine, she tenses and runs to hide behind a music stand. Typical. But as much as I've hated her for months, there's no reason to anymore. She broke up with Naruto. They're done.

Wait. It was Naruto who asked her to be my accompanist in the recital. Since she broke up with him, she might not feel obligated to do it anymore. Even though merely looking at her irritates me, I have to find out if I need a new accompanist or not.

"Hey," I say as I grab the empty chair beside her—when did these chairs get so heavy? "Are you still playing my accompaniment for the recital?"

Her face goes red. "O-Of course! It wouldn't be fair to you if I didn't."

"Good. We'll start rehearsing in three weeks."

"O-Okay!"

Lugging the chair backstage, I take a deep breath, then exhale. I can rationalize it as much as I want, but I still hate Hinata. Still, if she's going to play the accompaniment for me, I have to learn to cooperate with her. Speaking four sentences to her is a decent start.

After putting away the chair, I return to the stage, only for Neji to approach me. "I watched most of the orchestra's performance from the audience, Uchiha." He glares at me, two music stands in hand. "If you dare lose focus like that again, I swear I will—"

"I didn't make any mistakes," I say as I haul over another chair. "If you're spending so much time staring at me, the one losing focus is you."

Neji scowls. "I'm sure everyone noticed your clumsy entrances after every rest."

The fog rolls in again, and I stop. Everyone noticed. Everyone noticed. Even if there were no audible mistakes, they could see me, every flaw, every roll, every ounce of fat corrupting my—

"Sasuke?"

It's Sakura. The chairs and music stands are already arranged in a half-circle. It's time.

I take my seat, arrange my sheet music, and lift my violin to my collarbone. Schubert's Rosamunde Quartet. Just the first movement, and I'm done for the night. I have to battle the fog and focus on the music before I can succumb. I don't even have to worry about cueing everyone to start playing—my part only starts in the third bar. Out of the corner of my eye I see Sakura inhale, then exhale, and music quietly fills the stage. I softly draw my own bow against the strings before putting more strength into it, then let the pressure die. I'm trying so hard to stay focused, to let myself fall into the music, but there's nothing inside me. I can follow the dynamics and accents as much as I want, but I feel nothing. It's all meaningless. And to think this is something I used to love.

Fourteen agonizing minutes pass before the six of us stand and take a bow. I survived the music festival, but now I have to go home. It's time. And yet I no longer feel anything. The audience is standing and cheering, but it's so far away. Traces of fog encircle the room, and nothing feels real anymore. Even as we walk back to the music room, our footsteps echo as if the sound is coming from both everywhere and nowhere all at once. Being stuck in this state of unreality is bringing down both my grades and my chances at succeeding in the recital...but it's also keeping me alive.

Once we're back in the music room, I finish packing up my violin, and—

I jolt and whip my head around. Oh. It's only Sakura. She tapped me on the shoulder.

"S-Sorry," she says, her face bewildered. "I was just wondering…well, you told me before that you were having family problems, right?"

"So?" I zip up my jacket before slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

"Um, did you make up with your dad and Itachi yet?"

My mood sours. "No."

"Well…" She stares at the floor. "Um…"

"Say it."

She bites her lip. "Itachi's waiting outside for you."

…

Excuse me? Why the fuck is he here? I never told him there was a performance tonight. How dare he show up after all the lies he's told, after all the torture he's put me through?

"It was you, wasn't it?" I lash at her. "You told him!"

Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back. "I told you while you were in Japan that I'd try to get in touch with him, remember? I needed to give him a reason why I was texting him, and it was the only thing I could think of that didn't seem awk—"

I grab my violin case and storm out of the music room. As expected, Nii-san is waiting at the end of the hallway…and he's with Naruto.

Naruto waves. "That was gr—"

"Why the hell are you here?" I snarl at Nii-san in Japanese.

Nii-san is smiling, but it's nothing but a mask. "Hello, Sasuke," he says in English.

His fake politeness only enrages me more. "Don't try to act like everything is fine just because Naruto is here!"

"You should not do this in front of Naruto." Nii-san shakes his head as he continues in English. "You will make him uncomfortable."

"And you!" I glare at Naruto. "First Kakashi, and now my brother? How many times are you going to backstab me today?"

"I didn't say anything to him!" he insists. "I'm only here because I wanted to see you before heading home!"

The crumbled pieces of my heart turn to ice. "You've seen me. Now go home."

"Sasuke." Nii-san's voice is calm, yet threatening. "You are being rude to your friend. Please calm down so we can go home togeth—."

"Like hell I'm getting in the car with you!" I push past him and march out the exit door. The night air is freezing, but I'd rather walk home than be stuck with Nii-san. I'd rather not go home at all, but…Father is waiting.

Another pang of pain cuts through my stomach, and it stops me in my tracks. My stomach is thrashing around, screaming for food, but this is my punishment. I need to get my grades up—

I flinch the moment a heavy hand grasps my shoulder. Nii-san.

"Sasuke, this behaviour is unbecoming of you. Think carefully before you continue to do this," he whispers in my ear. "What would Father say?"

Chills run up my spine, and I freeze. Does Nii-san know? Does he know what Father does to me when he's not here? I don't know, but at this point, it wouldn't surprise me. I am defeated. All I can do is drag myself toward Nii-san's R8 in the parking lot, wordlessly get in the passenger seat, and keep my eyes glued to the window.

I hear Nii-san slide into the driver's seat, and the car roars to life. As he pulls out of the parking lot, he clears his throat. "So what did you suspect Naruto of telling me today?"

Fuck. I should never have said anything in front of him.

"The silent treatment is childish coming from you, Sasuke."

"Shut up!" I seethe. "How can you expect me to want to talk to you after what you did to me?"

He turns the car onto the main road. "I can always call your homeroom teacher if you insist on not speaking to me."

"He won't tell you anything," I say. "There's a confidentiality policy."

"Actually, he is legally and ethically obligated to tell Father if there is any risk of harm to yourself or others."

I throw him a dirty look before looking out the window again. "What, you think I'd attack someone?"

He's silent. What's that supposed to mean? Does he know I'm cutting myself? Or…does he really mean...

…that's right. I killed a person.

My stomach lurches, and I roll the window down. The cool air rushes into my face, and it's enough to keep the nausea in check. I know I killed that person, but does Nii-san really think so little of me? Does he really think I'd kill another person so easily? I...I couldn't...

"I have been concerned about you," Nii-san says, but the fog is thickening, and it's a struggle to hear him clearly. "You have lost a lot of weight in a short period of time. Your face is gaunt."

"So?" My tongue feels thick in my mouth.

"I worry you may have a health problem."

"There's nothing wrong with me."

"If it is not a health problem, then what do you suggest it is?"

"Nothing."

"You refuse to answer me then." Nii-san sighs as we stop at a red light. "Sasuke, you have been withdrawn and secretive for months, and your mood has been unstable. Combined with your weight loss, it would not be irrational for me to believe you are struggling with an issue like addiction."

…

"Addiction?" I whip my head around to face him. "You really think that I'm doing drugs?"

"I am merely trying to—"

"Shut up! Just shut up!" I see red. "What the hell do you think you know about me?! You've always been perfect at everything without even trying, and I—"

I try so hard to live up to the standard you set, but it's never enough.

I try so hard to please Father, but all he does is hit me.

I try so hard to live, but all I want is to die.

I'm a failure.

My vocal cords are paralyzed, and the fog dissolves, flooding everything until I'm barely keeping my head above water.

Finally Nii-san pulls into the driveway, but he doesn't turn the car off. "I still have some research left to do at the library, so I will drop you off here."

My heart starts beating too fast. "You're leaving?"

"Yes."

Another wave crashes over my head, and this time I'm trapped beneath the surface. Nii-san is leaving. It'll be just me and Father inside that house. Just me and Father.

I'm drowning.

I go to unbuckle my seatbelt, but somehow my fingers feel so numb, so detached from me that I end up fumbling with it for a few seconds too many. To think even getting out of the car would become an impossible task. Still, I manage to undo it and stumble out into the laneway. Each step toward the front door feels like an eternity, and my footsteps boom in my ears almost as loudly as my own heartbeat. My body is weighed down by so much dread that I can feel myself sinking even deeper into the depths. I never knew a report card could be so heavy. Father's not drinking again, is he? Does it even matter this time? My chest is tight. I can't breathe.

I'm afraid.

So I let myself sink. I sink deeper and deeper until I can barely see anymore. The water holds me in an icy embrace, and I watch as my body enters the house, then heads up the stairs. I watch as my body takes out the report card and hands it to Father. I watch Father's expression slowly contort with wrath as he staggers up and whacks me in the face.

The disconnect between myself and my body is so great that the pain can't even reach me. I am too deep inside the darkness to see anything other than a monster standing over me, pummelling me ruthlessly. There is nothing. I am nothing.

…

…

I cough, and white-hot agony shoots up my torso. The fog is gone, overtaken by pain, and I still can't breathe; trying to only hurts. Hell, everything hurts. My head hurts. My face hurts. My ribs hurt. My back hurts. My stomach hurts. I hurt.

It's dark. Where am I? My room. I'm lying on my side. It stinks like alcohol. It's so cold. The only source of light is from the moon, but it's enough that I can see the floor in front of me. More vomit. My throat is so raw, I'm not surprised. But…there's something dark in it.

I struggle to slide my phone out of my pocket, but manage to tap the screen. It's one in the morning, and there's a text from Naruto.

We need to talk. But I wanted to tell you first that you were really good tonight.

There's a feeling in my heart I don't recognize, but I can't think about it now. I turn on the flashlight function and point my phone at the vomit.

Blood.

…It's not much, and it's bright red. It's probably from coughing too much. I'll be fine. I try to push myself up—

White.

My wrists give way, and I fall onto my back. Pain surges through my torso, and everything starts to go dark again. No. I can't. I need to stay conscious. I have to check what's wrong. My hands are shaking, but I somehow manage to unbutton my shirt.

My whole torso is covered in bruises, but my right side…it's almost black. It's so swollen it makes me look even fatter than I already am. This…this is exactly like when I broke my rib last year. How am I supposed to exercise like this? Just breathing hurts, and if I try to run, I'll probably pass out. But I can't lie around like this for the next six weeks, or I'll really become a whale. I'll have to buy a bike in order to still get in some cardio.

At least I know I can still feel.

I stare at the ceiling. I need to get up and check myself in the mirror. I need to get up so my spine stops crying that the floor is too hard. But I can't. I just can't do it anymore. It was only a matter of time before this started again, and it's my fault. Father wouldn't do this to me if I could just be a better son.

Mom's gone. Father's gone. Nii-san's gone.

I'm alone. Sleep will never come.

Still 90 pounds.

I grimace as I look back up at the mirror. My face is so fat, so bloated, and now my left cheek is even more unsightly than usual. The bruise is only reddish-purple, and it's high enough on my cheekbone that my hair should be able to hide it, but I know it's there. The circles under my eyes are so dark they could nearly pass as bruises too. No matter what the scale says, I can see for myself how disgusting I am. Every time I look at my body, I somehow find new fat rolls bulging somewhere, and I look even wider than before. My torso is covered in black and blue, and my right side is so swollen that it makes me look huge. I hate it. I hate it all.

But it's already 7:00. I'm so exhausted, and every movement is an effort, especially with my rib like this. Still, I have to go. After throwing on some clothes, I rush downstairs as fast as I can—still too slow—but the moment my hand curls around the doorknob to leave, a voice booms behind me.

"Are you not having breakfast?"

Him. It's him. His voice saps the world of all its colour, and I barely manage to make my body turn around. It's Father. He's sitting at the kitchen table at the end of the hall. There's no smell of alcohol this time.

"No," I mutter. "I'm running late."

He waves me over. My heart is screaming at me not to go toward him, to get out of the house and run, but my body has no choice but to move forward.

"Is something wrong?" I ask. Of course there is.

He puts down his newspaper and stares daggers at me. "Do you have anything to say for yourself regarding your grades?"

My eyes drop to the ground. My knuckles are white. This is no time for excuses. "It's because I'm lacking."

"Is that it?"

"Yes."

Sighing, Father picks his newspaper back up so I can't see his face anymore. "Have Itachi tutor you. If your grades slip any further, I'll have to reevaluate your future with the Uchiha Corporation."

I knew he would say that. In Father's eyes, I'm merely Nii-san's substandard replacement in case anything ever happens to him. I'm not meant to inherit much anyway. But for some reason…it still hurts. I have to do better. I have to be better. Surpassing Nii-san is a joke at this point, but I can still meet the standard he set. I'm still capable. I can make Father proud. I have to, or else this life has all been for nothing.

But after everything that has happened, no matter what Father tells me to do, I can never ask Nii-san for help. I can't forgive him. The only thing I would ever consider asking him about is the accident, but even then I'd rather not have anything to do with him. Father is supposed to know about the accident too, but...I don't know how he would react if I asked him.

…

I'm already toeing the line between life and death, and I'm not sure which way to fall. I don't care anymore.

...

I take a breath. "I already failed you six years ago."

Silence immediately engulfs the room. It's so heavy it's suffocating me, and for a second I regret having said anything at all. Father's eyes travel up from the newspaper to my face, and I look away. He's sober. It's fine. And if not...this life means nothing to me anyway.

"So you finally remember?" he says.

I nod. "Yes."

With a sigh, he puts his newspaper back down and put his head in his hands. "I told Itachi it was only a matter of time."

So Father does know everything. My memories are real. I feel sick. Living here with him, being subjected to his alcohol-induced rage…it's my punishment. I ruined this family. But why did he and Nii-san hide all of this from me in the first place? I open my mouth to ask, but Father puts up a hand to stop me.

"Leave. You said you were going to be late."

Shit. He's right. I bow quickly before rushing back to the door. "Ittekimasu."

The moment I'm out the door, all the pain I had been suppressing rushes back into my body. It takes everything in me to resist keeling over—if I do, my rib will scream, and I might not be able to stay conscious. My head is pounding, my stomach is in knots, and every breath fills me with more pain. It would be better not to breathe at all.

But I have to go. As much as I need to study, I can't graduate without enough volunteer hours either. I have to drag myself to the bus stop, get on the bus, and go. I'm late enough as it is.

"Sasuke? Are you there?"

I blink. Blue.

Not again. This time I'm surrounded by tall cedar trees, and I'm wearing latex gloves. Naruto is right in front of me, and both Sakura and Kakashi aren't far behind him.

Stanley Park. I've already arrived. And pain has me in its grip again.

"Finally!" He's too close to me. "Your eyes had been glazed over since you got here."

"You're imagining things again." I step back.

He makes a face. "Look, we really need to talk. Not now, but after Kakashi and Sakura leave."

"I have nothing to talk about with you, not after you went behind my back and talked to Kakashi." I glare at him.

Naruto almost looks offended. "I did it right in front of you and asked you if it was okay!"

…I don't remember that part at all.

"You shouldn't have said anything to him at all."

"But you're not here half the time. You're like a zombie!"

"The only brain that's rotting is yours."

"Sasuke!" His jaw clenches.

"Naruto, Sasuke!" Kakashi waves from afar. "Don't lag behind too much."

"Coming!" Naruto yells before looking back at me. "I bet I can pick up more trash than you!"

"Yeah, right." I don't care anymore.

He grins. "It's on!" he says before hurrying ahead.

Finally I have a chance to figure out what's going on. I have a trash bag in one hand and a garbage pick-up stick in the other. How long did I black out for this time? I tuck the stick under one arm and take out my phone with my free hand. 8:20 AM. The blackout wasn't as bad this time, but the gaps in my memory are multiplying, and I don't even know what I know anymore. Everything is a blur. The world doesn't feel real. I don't feel real.

But this pain is real.

I shove my phone back in my pocket and shut my eyes. Another wave of pain hits my stomach, and I barely stop myself from doubling over; my rib is still pulsating, and I can't risk agitating it even more. My heart is still beating too fast, but the only monster lurking here is me. I have to get a grip. All I have to do is pick up trash so I can go home and study, but…I don't want to go home either.

I sigh and try to concentrate on the task at hand. A crumpled piece of paper. A cigarette butt. A piece of gum. Long ago I would have taken up Naruto on his challenge and be rushing to fill my garbage bag, but now it seems so stupid. Childish games like this aren't a measure of worth. What matters is how skilled I am compared to Nii-san, and right now I'm failing in every aspect. I need to get out of here so I can exercise, then study and try to salvage my grades. I can do this.

"Hurry up, Sasuke!" Sakura waves over at me from up ahead.

I raise a hand in acknowledgement, but she's so far away she might not even be real. The colours are dull again, and nothing looks right. The fog is clouding everything. If I fight it and try to stay grounded in reality, I might stop blacking out. But that would also mean having to exist in this body. I'd have to live.

And my stomach is so, so empty.

I press one hand against my stomach to ease the gurgling. It's only my second day of fasting, but already I'm so tired. This is what I get for letting my grades slip, for letting myself get beaten so hard that I can barely move, for getting so fat. It's my only choice. It doesn't matter how hungry I am, how much my body craves food. My mind is stronger than that.

I shake my head. I need to focus. Am I even picking up garbage like I'm supposed to? I'm too far away from Naruto and the others—I can't tell how full my garbage bag is in comparison to theirs. I have to work harder. I use the stick to pick up a pop can, and—

...there's something glinting in the dirt. I kick at it, only to recoil.

It's a pocketknife.

A pocketknife.

A knife.

Blood.

"Let him go!"

"Don't hurt him!"

"NO!"

"SASUKE DON'T!"

I thrust the blade into his chest, feel the resistance, push harder, harder until it slides all the way in, watch the blood bloom around the handle, crying shrieking it's all my fault fabric ripping splitting thrusting knife blood it's alL MY FAULT IT'SALLMYFAULTFAULTFAULTFAULT

…

I gasp for air, then regret it. The pain in my torso is so sharp it blinds me, and I shut my eyes. It hurts. It hurts so much it makes me wonder why I'm still alive. All I do is hurt. I'm in so much pain all the time regardless of whether Father beats me or not, and I don't know why I should have to go through this.

I saw it all again. The yakuza, Mom, the knife...the blood dyeing that man's chest red. I felt it all. I have to get out of here, wherever here is. I go to sit up—

I collapse. A torrent of agony rips through my heart, swallowing it, swallowing everything. My heart is screeching at me to just let it stop, just to end everything. Am I having a heart attack? Am I dying? I'm engulfed in pain, and I can't do this anymore. Can't think. Can't breathe. Just pain. Only pain. It hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts hurtshurtshurtsHURTSHURTS

…

I don't know how long it takes, but slowly my heartbeat returns to normal. I look up at the clear blue sky and stretch my arm out toward the sun. Here I am dying in the middle of a forest alone. And yet the birds are chirping. The sun is still shining. Life goes on and always will, even when I don't. I can reach out toward the sky as much as I want, but it's useless. My only choice is to sink into the darkness.

This pain…it isn't normal. My breath is ragged, my body is shaking, and I'm drenched in sweat. And it's not the first time this has happened either. Something's wrong with me, and if I don't do something, eventually I am going to die from it. Maybe...maybe I finally need to see a doctor. But if I do, they'll examine me, and then they'll start questioning all the scars, all the bruises, everything. They'll tear whatever is left of my family apart. I can't.

But am I content to die like this? I thought I wanted to end this life so badly. Am I so weak that I'm even afraid to die? I have to make a choice once and for all. But until I make that choice, I have to keep living. I have to get up and figure out where I am.

The pain in my chest subsides, but now the ever-present pain in my skull is making up for it. My rib is begging me to rest and let it heal, but I have to get up. If I get up, will the chest pain come back? There's only one way to find out.

I sit up, and while another sharp pain stabs my torso, this time my heart is okay. But after the usual dizzy spell passes, I take a look around. Shit. I'm off the trail. I have to stop losing focus like this. I must have wandered off the trail while stuck in my own thoughts, and I probably fainted during the flashback. At least no one was here to see it.

But now I'm lost.

I try to check my phone, but my hands are still trembling, so it takes me far too long to wake my phone screen. Fuck. There's already a text from Sakura.

Where did you go?

I better answer before they start another search party. But I don't know what I can say without sounding like an idiot. I have to come up with something.

Went to the bathroom. I'll catch up soon.

Whether we actually passed by a bathroom or not, I don't care. I just don't want them calling the police to find me. Besides, it's only 8:40. I couldn't have wandered too far away. All I have to do is pull up a map of the trail and then compare it with the GPS.

…but if I can wander off a trail while still conscious, it makes me wonder what I could do while blacked out.

I shake my head. No. It's fine. According to the GPS, I'm not too far from the trail. If I go north for a few minutes, I'll end up at Prospect Point and be back on the trail from there.

Dead leaves crunch underneath my feet as I make my way north. What a mess. Here I am dragging this garbage bag and pick-up stick as if I could ever live a normal life when I know I can't. I'm stuck as this hideous monster, and no matter how much weight I lose, no matter how much I slice my skin, it doesn't fix anything. My grades are slipping, I can barely play the violin, and my family hates me. I'm the one who ruined everything, after all, and they all know it. It's my fault Mom was raped, and all I could do was watch before stupidly killing one of them. It sounds like a joke, yet ripping my skin apart is the only way I can deal with it. And none of this will ever go away. As long as I'm alive, I'm stuck. What kind of life is this? There's only pain, and things somehow always seem to get worse.

Finally. Prospect Point. The ocean looms in front of me, and the only thing separating me from it is an iron fence. The northern part of the city is sprawled throughout the mountains on the other side of the water, and I can tell from the view that this cliff is high enough for me to die. I could jump now and finally be free.

I drop the half-empty garbage bag and stick onto the pavement, throw off my gloves, then rest my arms against the barrier. Wanting to die is easy. Dying is harder. It's a choice I can't come back from. If I jump from this high up, there's little chance I could possibly survive. I'd probably end up hitting the sea wall instead of the sea itself, so I'd die instantly. But how long is an instant? How excruciating would that instant be? Or would it end like nothing in the same way I become nothing? No. Thinking like this is weak. Am I giving up on myself? Or am I just doing what needs to be done? There's no one around to stop me. There are no second chances. Once I die, that's it. It's a matter of whether I'm more afraid of death or of tomorrow.

…

I sigh. The wind here is mercilessly cold. As much as the death drive is roaring inside me, begging me to fling myself off this cliff, there are still a few things left to do. Mom…I don't want to face her, but she deserves an apology. I should have been the one to be in a coma, not her. If I can't switch places with her, I can at least stop by the hospital and apologize before I end things. I'll do it after I finally hit 40 kilograms so I'm not as disgusting in front of her. I should come up with a proper plan too. I don't know if there is anything beneath this cliff that would break my fall, and the last thing I want is to screw up a suicide attempt and end up in an even worse state than now. I could leave behind a note too, or...maybe I shouldn't bother. No one would miss me anyway. The only one who might give a damn about me is Naruto. But what about my own pain? I shouldn't have to survive just to please other people. But even if I decided to jump now, I probably couldn't climb over this fence in my current condition anyway. Pathetic. I'm too weak to even die.

"SASUKE!"

I turn around. Naruto.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" His eyes are huge, and his face is bright red. He's panting so hard he must have run all the way here.

Guilt festers inside me, and I can't meet his gaze. "Looking at the view."

"R-really?" he laughs sheepishly before walking up to me. "I…I was…"

I scowl. "What?"

He laughs again, but it's forced. "I just came over to check on you, that's all! The bathrooms over there are the last ones we passed by, so I figured you'd be here."

"I don't know what you're so worried about." I give him a look. He's still holding his garbage bag, and it's bulging with trash. Something dark stirs inside me; he's not supposed to be better than me. I thought I didn't care about something as stupid as this, but if I can't even beat Naruto, how can I possibly become as good as Nii-san? I'm so weak.

Naruto sighs, and I can't tell if he's frustrated or tired. "Did you trip or something?"

"Why?"

"Your back is covered in dirt."

I hastily turn my back toward the ocean. "I tripped and fell." It's not a total lie.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

No. I'm not okay. Of course I'm not okay. I want to break down, scream, cry, die, but I can't. I took another step toward death today, and eventually it'll devour me.

"Sakura and Kakashi aren't around, so now's as good a time as any to talk." Naruto leaves his garbage bag and stick by the fence, removes his gloves, and takes out his phone.

"What are you telling them?"

He starts typing. "That there must have been something bad in your breakfast because you're barfing your guts out in the bathroom!"

"Naruto!" I go to grab him, but he holds his phone up in the air as he dodges me.

"Already sent it!" he snickers. "I said we'd either catch up later or I'd call your dad and take you home, so now they definitely won't come looking for us!"

"You idiot!" I reach for his phone and—

Pain.

"What's wrong?" Naruto says, but I can't answer. My ribcage.

"Sasuke, you gotta answer me."

"I hurt my ribs when I fell." I try to control my breathing—enough to stay conscious, but not enough to make my ribs hurt even more. "It's fine."

"You're always saying that and expect other people to believe you." Naruto leans against the iron fence. "But I don't think it's true."

"It wouldn't be the first time you're wrong about something."

"Heh. At least you're still the same old bastard." Naruto almost smiles. "Anyway…I just wanted to talk to you about something."

"About what?"

He hesitates, but then looks straight at me. "I bet you've wondered about the scars on my cheeks before, right?"

…that came out of nowhere.

"I've thought about it." I shrug. The scars are too straight, too clean, like someone took…a knife…

No. I can't black out in front of Naruto again.

Naruto smiles wryly. "I wasn't in the car when my parents were in the accident, but…it still changed my life. I mean, they were both in the hospital for months. That pervy sa—I mean Jiraiya, you know, my godfather. He was off backpacking in South America, and my grandma was gambling across Asia, so nobody could get in contact with either of them...and I was alone."

I gaze at him. His eyes are glassy, but he still seems determined.

"You didn't have any other relatives?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No. So they had no choice but to put me in foster care for a while."

I don't reply. There's nothing I can say.

Naruto throws his head back to stare at the sky. "That's the real reason why everyone always hated me. From the time I was in kindergarten, I was known as the kid in foster care, so all the parents told their kids to stay away from me. Maybe they assumed I was messed up and a bad influence or something. I guess none of my classmates really understood why their parents were saying that, so they just made up reasons to hate me."

Somehow Naruto still has a small smile on his face. That smile must be the only thing protecting him.

"I was only with the foster family for a few months, but it didn't go well. The parents were all right, I guess, but their kids hated me. They didn't want me around at all." He stops and stares at the ground, but before I can say anything, he takes a deep breath and continues. "One time when the parents weren't home, they tied me up. They kept yelling that I was messing up their real family, and...they took scissors to my face."

My eyes go wide. I...I never imagined he had gone through something like that. We've always been similar. And I hate it.

"I guess they thought it would be funny to make me look like a fox or something!" Naruto laughs, but it's so hollow.

"And you let it go?" I say through gritted teeth. The more I know, the more I understand how everyone has always turned their backs on him.

"I was only four back then, so I couldn't do anything but cry, and now…I don't really want to go back to that time." He smiles sheepishly. "The parents covered it up with some excuse about their cat scratching me, and that was it. The cuts weren't that deep, and by the time I was back with my parents, the scars were light enough that they didn't ask a lot of questions either."

"So even your own parents don't know?"

"No. You're the first person I've ever told this to."

There's a gust of wind, and Naruto looks up as the cherry blossom petals soar past us. The air is salty, and it's still so cold.

"I was still acting out even when I was back at home, so my parents put me through therapy," Naruto says. "It helped me cope with the anger, but that darkness…I take antidepressants to make it easier, but it's always going to be there. None of us can erase the past, but we can try to make things better moving forward."

"I guess." I look up at the sky too. His pain is real, but it's still different from mine. What could he possibly know about me? His parents love him unconditionally, so he'll never know what it's like to be hated and beaten by his own family. He lives for the future, and I only look to the past.

But I also feel closer to him than ever before.

"So I guess we both have some kind of car accident trauma!" He turns to me. "That's why neither of us have our licenses yet, right?"

I raise an eyebrow. We're both too young to learn how to—

...I forgot. The laws are different here.

"You have to be eighteen before you can get your license in Japan," I say, "so it's something I hadn't thought about yet."

"But you're in Canada now." Naruto frowns. "We could both do our driver's ed over the summer."

"Not interested."

"Me neither." He grins.

The wind howls, and I shiver. I don't know how Naruto can be okay in this weather. His nose and ears are a little red, but he doesn't even have his jacket zipped up all the way.

"So why are you telling me this?" My ankles are starting to ache from standing here so long.

"Because you're my best friend, and I think it's important to share this kind of stuff with each other," he says. "I think the only way we can fix things is if we understand each other."

"So now you want to understand me?" I scoff.

He shifts. "I thought it would be easier for you to talk to me if I opened up first," he admits. "But I can't make you tell me anything either. I just believe that my friends' problems are my problems."

So this was his strategy all along. Why should I tell him anything about myself just because he decided to talk? I don't owe him anything. I don't care about him. He's nothing but an idiot. An idiot who is hellbent on 'saving' me. An idiot who always smiles at me and meets me where I am. An idiot who is also my best friend.

...there's no way I can tell him about Father, but…I guess I can tell him about…the past.

My blood goes cold. My heart starts slamming itself against my chest, and sweat prickles my forehead. No. I shouldn't do this. But I can't be so weak. I have to tell him.

"My mom was gang raped. I watched. And then I killed one of them."

Three sentences. Just three sentences to sum up the enormity of my suffering. It's laughable. My heart feels like it's being squeezed, crushed, shattered, and I can only stare at the ground.

I flinch. Naruto's hand is in mine. He's holding my hand. My face starts to burn, but I can't bring myself to pull my hand away either.

"That's horrible," he says quietly.

"It was the yakuza. They kidnapped me." My mind is slipping from my body, and I can't feel Naruto's touch anymore. "And both my father and Nii—Itachi knew everything all along. Itachi acted like he was as clueless as I was, but he knew. He hid everything from me."

"That's really awful," Naruto says. "Itachi looks like he cares about you a lot, so I never thought he'd do something like that. Have you talked to him a—"

"Are you siding with him!?" I rip away my hand. "He lied to me for six years and chose to watch me suffer instead. Then when I confronted him, he tried to manipulate me into thinking it was all in my head!"

"I'm not saying what he did was okay!" Naruto says heatedly. "What I'm saying is that maybe there's more to it, and you won't know unless you actually talk to him. You guys can't make peace unless you understand each other!"

"You think talking things out can solve everything," I seethe, "but some things can't ever be fixed."

"Maybe not, but you gotta give it a try!" Naruto takes a step toward me, and I back away. "And if talking doesn't work, then…well, like I said, I went to a therapist and started taking medication. It helped me, and it could help you too."

"I'm not looking for advice," I snap. "I don't need help."

Naruto sighs. The spark in him leaves his eyes, and he looks back at the ocean wistfully. "I just want to save you from the darkness. I already almost lost you once, and…I'm afraid of losing you again."

Guilt eats away at me. I was so close to throwing myself off this cliff right before he got here, and maybe he knows it. I don't want to add to his hurt. But I want my own hurt to stop.

"Listen, I have to tell you something" Naruto's eyes lock onto mine. "I've been wanting to tell you for a while, but the timing was never right, and now I realize the timing might never be right. But none of us are guaranteed to be around forever, and I want to tell you before it's too late."

"Is this the same thing you wanted to tell me in Japan?"

"Yeah. I just…I…"

"Just say it."

"Don't rush me, bastard!" Naruto yells, but then he goes quiet again. "I just…when you went missing for those six weeks, I realized how much you meant to me. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I was so desperate to bring you home and see you again. I couldn't let you go."

I stare at my shoes. I'm too exhausted to try to tell him about…Orochimaru. That's another kind of evil.

"I think other people could tell too. It's why Hinata broke up with me."

"What?" I snap my neck around to face him. "She broke up with you because of me?"

"Yeah, not long after I asked her to play the piano for you in the recital," he says. "She kept crying and said I was always thinking of you more than her."

I remember that day. I thought it was weird how red her eyes were.

"But you know, I realized she was right," he continues. "After being hated for so long, that someone like her could actually like me…it felt amazing. But it wasn't real. When she broke up with me, I realized I had liked her because I...I was in love with being loved."

His words make my heart feel lighter. I'm so stupid. This shouldn't mean anything to me. The wind blows again, and I tuck my hair behind my ear. "I don't think she ever—"

"What happened to your face?"

I freeze. What's wrong with my face? Has he finally realized how fat, how disgusting I really am? I—

"I mean the bruise."

Shit. I forgot about that. I move my hair back so it covers the side of my face, but the damage is already done. "I told you I fell."

"You gotta be more careful, Sasuke." Naruto makes a face. "You're always getting hurt. I've been really worried about you recently because you always look like you're sick."

I already knew I looked terrible, but him rubbing it in makes it so much worse. "You think I'm hideous, don't you?"

"I think you're beautiful."

I stop.

I think you're beautiful.

I think you're beautiful.

I think you're beautiful.

His words keep echoing in my head, and I can't push them out. No. He doesn't mean it that way. I can't keep doing this.

"I'm not the first person you say that to," I mutter. I can't forget that Christmas party, how his eyes lit up like stars the moment he saw Hinata. Just thinking about it exasperates me. And with my face as ugly as it is, there's no way—

"Maybe you're not the first, but you're the last."

…

I turn back around to face him. His face is red.

"Yeah, I found Hinata attractive, but...well, I mean, she's a great girl, but you're different. To be honest, I've always admired you for being so smart and cool, and I feel like you get me in ways other people never could. You care about others so deeply, and I think that kind of love is really beautiful."

"Love?" I say. "There's nothing left in me but hatred."

"That's not the way I see it. For you, I think love and hate are almost the same thing. But it's okay, Sasuke." Naruto takes my hand again, and I let him. "I know there's a lot going on, but I'm here. We can figure out what to do from here on, and we'll do it together."

"I can handle it myself." My heart is beating so fast it aches. I don't know how he can bring himself to say such embarrassing things so easily. My whole body feels like it's on fire, and I can barely meet his gaze.

"Even if you could, you don't have to do it alone anymore." His face goes bright red. "Because I'm in love with you."

…

…

…

He has to be joking. No. There's just no way he could feel that way about someone like me. It's impossible.

"I thought you were adamant about not being gay," I say coldly.

"Well, because I'm not gay; I'm bisexual, probably."

"You know what I mean." I glower at him. "Besides, there's no reason for you to love me. I've done nothing but push you away."

Naruto nods. "You've been a really prickly bastard lately, but we've had good times together too, and I think we can still go back to those days."

…

This is the last thing I ever expected him to say. I don't know what to do. My mind is shutting down. This is all too much, and I can't give him anything he wants. I can't have him. And he deserves better than me. He's just...deluded, or something. None of this makes sense. I can't believe him.

"You love me even though I watched my mom being raped?" I try.

Naruto scrunches up his face. "How the hell is that your fault? You were what, ten?"

"You don't care that I killed someone?"

"You did it to save her, right? I think that's pretty brave."

"I still haven't told you about the six weeks I was missing."

"That's okay. I know you'll tell me eventually, and none of it is going to change how I feel."

No. He doesn't understand. He doesn't understand because I haven't told him. What might have happened with Orochimaru, the bruises all over my body, the scars on my stomach…

"It doesn't matter to you how fat I am?"

Naruto's eyes go wide. "Sasuke, what the hell are you talking about? You look like a stick."

What? Is he lying to make me feel better? How can he not see the same thing I see when I look in the mirror? None of this makes sense.

At least he thinks I look thin.

"It doesn't matter how many reasons you make up for me to not love you, Sasuke." He squeezes my hand. "Maybe you can't see them yourself, but there are lots of good things about you."

I stare at him. His eyes are unwavering. Maybe Sakura was right all along.

But I can't do this. Not only would Father kill me, but…it's too much. This wasn't supposed to happen. I've already started making plans to die.

"You don't have to give me an answer right away—I just wanted to remind you that people love and care about you. I'm really glad you're in my life, and I know we can get through this together!"

Naruto smiles, and this time it's real. I never thought he'd gaze at me like this. His eyes are twinkling, and it's like he can't see anything but me. If I had plunged off the cliff earlier, I wouldn't have ever gotten the chance to hear these words from him. Maybe, just maybe…there could be hope for a better future after all.

But all of this is nothing but an empty dream. I can't accept his feelings. I don't have time for romance, and even if I did, there's no point when I can never be with him anyway. Letting this drag on would only hurt us both in the long run.

But…he doesn't need an answer right away either. For once in my life, maybe I can savour one happy moment before having to leave it behind.

Even within the chaos and despair, even at what feels like the end of everything, there is love.

A/N: Finally Naruto has confessed to Sasuke! I know it's been a long wait, but NaruSasu is slowly progressing, even though Sasuke didn't exactly reciprocate.

I had Naruto mention some of the side characters that have been missing for a good ten chapters in case you've been wondering where they are. Their disappearance is to show how Sasuke is withdrawing from the world and therefore has a smaller social circle. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about them.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you'll come back for the next chapter. If you feel so inclined, I'd love a review too.