b e g i n n i n g . . .
Sometimes, the art of torturing Sasuke is just too easy. Weird formatting because I felt like it so leave it alone. Slight Sasuke x Naruto. Memories or speech from Naruto are fully in italics; was I trying to be poetic?


d i s c l a i m e r . . .
Come now, children... let's not be foolish now...

R e m e m b r a n c e . . .

It wasn't like he couldn't remember...
Memories l i k e these...

Hey, hey...remember when we u s e d to go outside...
And just lie in the fields? Just watching the stars
...

Because everytime he closed his eyes, all he could see was him.
But you see, that wasn't the p r o b l e m.
That wasn't what he was trying to do.
Because remembering...remembering was never as hard as forgetting.

But things happen for a r e a s o n.

So maybe that's why these memories won't go a w a y.
Tremors run through his body as he remembered the first time...
The first time he felt the sun.
Bright, l o u d. It went against everything he was.
And yet somehow...it was like meeting his other half.
For the f i r s t - t i m e.

And for the first time, in so many years...he was happy.

He was really happy.
At least...that's what he r e m e m b e r s.
From what he can recall from the distant days.

He remembers many things.

Just like he remembers those nights; lying a w a k e in bed.
Staring at the ceiling. Feeling cold and e m p t y. Wondering just why.
Why didn't he feel this lifeless...this lonely when he was around the s u n?

He remembers sneaking o u t.
Feeling the d i r t y gravel beneath his feet.
The feeling of the Earth below him.
The feeling of being
A l i v e.

He remembers climbing up onto his balcony.
The smell of f r e s h paint and old ramen evident in the night air.
C h i p p e d splinters on creaky doors.

But most of all...he remembers seeing the sun.

When it wasn't suppose to be seen.
In the dead of the night.
Vulnerable, weak. Sleeping. At peace.
He can still feel the w a r m t h of his hands around his own.
The soft locks of blonde tickling his neck as he turned to face him.
He can still see those vibrant blue eyes gazing into his. One million questions.

But not a word was s p o k e n.
Please...

He closed his eyes. Not wanting to facer e j e c t i o n.
But the same warm hands on his own lifted up to caress his face.
The grin that he despised in the day became what he d e s i r e d most in the night.

His warm breath f a n n e d on pale cheeks before lids came to a close over twin skies.

A c c e p t a n c e.
Okay.

But not a word was s p o k e n.
Silence.

. . .It wasn't like he couldn't remember.
Because everytime he closed his eyes, all he could feel was him.
But you see, that wasn't the problem.
Memories like these...

Because...because I remember.
I remember ev-er-y-thing...Don't you...?
Please...please tell me you do...Please tell me...

You didn't cast them into the
darkness too.

That wasn't what he was trying to do.
Because remembering...remembering was never as hard as forgetting.

But things happen for a r e a s o n.

So r em e m b e r