Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or anything in this story.
Shiver
Chapter 2 Burst
It was cold and hot.
It was dark and bright.
It was good and bad.
It was real and unreal.
It was normal and strange.
Many thoughts contradicted themselves in his mind. It made his head ache and throb with each jumbled memory. Nothing made any sense at all. Probably, possibly, never would.
He was weak. He was strong.
He was a genius. He was a lonely boy.
He was an Uchiha. He did not deserve the Uchiha pride.
What in life was he sure of? His fostered hatred? Maybe. But he doubted it. He never knew anything, he always thought.
Why think? It was deceitful. It was irritating. It was painful. Pain eating away at his mental and physical heart. It was a feeling he was sure he would never get rid of. Ever. And that's the way it would always, always be.
Sasuke was sure of one thing. He was lost and confused.
It was most likely the only one thing in life he had ever been sure of. He had been sure that Itachi was to be admired but, turns out he was wrong. He couldn't find his path. He couldn't hold onto a lost path. He couldn't find a lost hope.
Was he a survivor? No. Definitely not. He was not a survivor but he was a coward.
If only his dead family could see him now. Laugh at him and make fun of how weak he was. It was a long, unfaithful conquest. Why did he even bother trying? It was said that if you didn't try, then you would never know.
Well, what if you did fail? Fail every time. Is that something worth doing? Embarrassment for knowledge?
Why did life have to be such a complex and confusing game? He knew he was losing.
He had been losing ever since that day. The day of the massacre. Stupid stupid Itachi. If he hadn't killed the family, he wouldn't be here. He would be living a happy life with his family –undead family-. It was a lost hope. Just like everything else.
His life was a waste. His breathe was a waste. He was not even worth killing. That's why he remained in this world.
That's why he stood alone, waiting, waiting for something that he knew would never ever come. But he knew this. Because Tomorrow never comes. No matter how much he wanted it to. It was another lost cause. Why did everything in his life have to be fake? Why couldn't anything he ever touched stay pure? Why couldn't he stop infecting the world with his darkness?
His thoughts contradicting himself again. His head hurt where he smashed it during training. He stopped thinking.
He felt like he would burst.