I Don't own Naruto
It had happened. It was finally here. He was now the Rokudaime. He was elated, this was the best day of his life. Nothing could go wrong. He was thrilled, ecstatic, happy. Right?
He should be, he knew that. After all, happy was what happened when all your dreams came true. Wasn't it? So he couldn't be happier. He smiled, a bit to wide, a bit to happy.
This was the party, the party he had always wanted, surrounded by his friends. No, not all. But there wasn't a friend missing, they just weren't all there. They were crowding around him, all saying things he had always wanted to hear, but they had the wrong voices. They were to high, to loud, to happy.
The only thing he wanted now wasn't a compliment, he didn't care that Sakura was yelling how proud she was in a high, feminine voice. He wanted to hear that low voice, soft, he would have to strain to hear to over the shouts. But it was only compliments, not one insult.
He was acknowledged. That was all he had ever wanted. But they were the wrong eyes praising him, admiring him. They were to pale, too wide, not mocking enough, too happy, too worshiping. They're hair flew all around him, but that wasn't right either. They're hair shouldn't be long enough to hit him when they turned, it should only gently brush his cheek, in ways that should have sent shivers down his spine. It should be soft, softer then anything had the right to be. It was supposed to be dark, as dark as night. Darker.
They're lips were to bright, to pink, stained with the cherry alcohol, or rose red lipstick. Those lips should be pale, smooth, wonderful. They're hands were to slow, not slender enough, too short, not elegant in a simple beauty that only the most skilled of shinobi possessed. They're clothes were too pale, too bright, they're backs held the wrong symbol, no red, no white, no blue.
They're skin was too dark, too sun tanned, not the beautiful pale, moon touched skin that it should be. They were all praising him, all acknowledging him, all respecting him. But they weren't right. They weren't him. They weren't Sasuke. And they never would be.
He was happy, his dream, his goal had finally come true. So he was happy. After all happy was what happened when all your dreams came true. But something was missing, and everything was there, and that's the way it was always going to be.
For one moment he glanced towards the back. And a body that was prefect enough, skin that was pale enough, hair that was soft enough, hands that were always just enough, and eyes that said everything with nothing met his own. Those fantastic lips lifted in a small smile, and that wonderful head tilted down in a small nod of acknowledgement. And he was happy.
It was wrong, he knew, he shouldn't be there. But he was, and that was enough. It would have to be.