To the person who signed 'leave it': IF I'M POSTING CHAPTERS THIS LONG CONTINUOUSLY, IT MEANS I'M DOING IT ON PURPOSE. If you're going to be rude, go flip yourself off. This is my ONESHOT account, and if you need an example of my non-oneshots, look up 20FacesChizu on here. Take a good gander at my ItaSaku fic Carnival Ride, because chapter 5 is NINE PAGES LONG. In case it's lost on you, you pissed me off. Now, since all you complained about was the length, would you like to try critiquing oh, I don't know, my technique?
TO EVERYONE ELSE: Please enjoy, and huggles and cookies for all the reviews!
Behind these Hazel Eyes
20FacesChizu
When he opened his eyes for the first time in twelve years, the very same as the day he'd died, she hadn't known what to expect. He was living again. Living. His eyes and body were healed of all disease, and he lived.
At first, he'd been silent. He'd stared at her, pure wonder on his face… and then he cried.
Silently.
Never once did he look away from her eyes.
After a while, his eyes fell closed again, and he slept. She remembered carrying him back to the small, hidden room beneath her lab that she had fixed for him; and she placed him on the bed there as carefully as she could, tucking his body beneath the blankets to warm him.
Every morning for two weeks, he would wake up when she brought him breakfast, and the meal would go cold as he sat there and cried silently, just watching her. Then, slowly, he began to join her. He would be in wonder of the smallest things. A book he'd read before and remembered, a topic he'd often discussed with someone he knew well; the sheer happiness that he seemed to feel at the tiniest caress of her hand, or the soft tone of her voice was childishly innocent and beautiful. He loved warm blankets, adored sweet foods, and read everything he could get his hands on. He asked her many things about her profession; about plants, animals, humans, and jutsu. Like a sponge, he was absorbing life.
But at night, he would always be just like he had been in the beginning. He would slip under the blanket, and the moment she turned out the light he would stiffen, and waves of anxiety would fill the room. She'd begun to light a lamp for him, to chase away the fear of darkness.
He'd told her, you see. Hell is a terrifying place, where not even the fires that burn you for eternity produce light. Where you simply scream in pain through ages that are neither day nor night, while you are devoured by worms, and consumed by fire, and the piercing cries of pain from others are the only sounds that fill your brain.
These were the terrors he could see every night, behind his deep, black eyes.