This does not look like Konoha. [Active/Open]
Who: A seven-year-old Sasuke Uchiha and anyone who'd like to join him!
Where: The parlor. He's freaked out and not moving a whole lot just yet.
When: Day 02
What: Sasuke is lost, confused, and definitely not happy.
Warnings: Uhh. Lost children!
For so long, he’d wonder what it would feel like to receive his father’s praise. How it must have felt-how Itachi must have felt, being able to hear it so frequently. Somehow, that was what motivated him to keep going. When he’d finally mastered the technique, finally received that acknowledgement he’d been pushing so hard for... The sense of relief, the pleasure was almost baffling. He had finally been acknowledged as Fugaku’s son.
It had been a few hours now since they’d gone home, and Sasuke was in his room, arms wrapped around the stuffed animal he’d so carefully hidden from his father’s scornful eye. He was too old for toys now, much too old. He was supposed to becoming a ninja. That was what father had always said. Sasuke’s arms tightened instinctively around the soft plush, as though fearful it would suddenly be plucked away. Despite this though, when he would think about his father’s words out on the pier to the lake-well, his face would break into a smile, and he hugged the dinosaur even closer. Things were getting better now. He’d continue to show his father that he was every bit as good as Itachi was.
But then again... Why had his father told him to not be like his brother? After so long, after being told countless of times to be just as good as he was... With a sigh, the boy got to his feet and nearly slipped, making a startled sound of surprise even as he stumbled forward a few steps.
That was when he realized he was no longer home.
Wide eyes stared at the parlor of the grand mansion that laid itself out in front of him, and that was when the first trickles of panic started to seep through his system. Where was he? He could smell the dust, the sense that someone had not been here for a very, very long time. Though he turned and rattled at the door behind him, it refused to even twitch under one of his tugging hands. The other was still firmly latched onto the stuffed animal, you see.
“Kaasan? Touson?” There was no hiding the tremor that underlay his words. “Nii-san...”
Where: The parlor. He's freaked out and not moving a whole lot just yet.
When: Day 02
What: Sasuke is lost, confused, and definitely not happy.
Warnings: Uhh. Lost children!
For so long, he’d wonder what it would feel like to receive his father’s praise. How it must have felt-how Itachi must have felt, being able to hear it so frequently. Somehow, that was what motivated him to keep going. When he’d finally mastered the technique, finally received that acknowledgement he’d been pushing so hard for... The sense of relief, the pleasure was almost baffling. He had finally been acknowledged as Fugaku’s son.
It had been a few hours now since they’d gone home, and Sasuke was in his room, arms wrapped around the stuffed animal he’d so carefully hidden from his father’s scornful eye. He was too old for toys now, much too old. He was supposed to becoming a ninja. That was what father had always said. Sasuke’s arms tightened instinctively around the soft plush, as though fearful it would suddenly be plucked away. Despite this though, when he would think about his father’s words out on the pier to the lake-well, his face would break into a smile, and he hugged the dinosaur even closer. Things were getting better now. He’d continue to show his father that he was every bit as good as Itachi was.
But then again... Why had his father told him to not be like his brother? After so long, after being told countless of times to be just as good as he was... With a sigh, the boy got to his feet and nearly slipped, making a startled sound of surprise even as he stumbled forward a few steps.
That was when he realized he was no longer home.
Wide eyes stared at the parlor of the grand mansion that laid itself out in front of him, and that was when the first trickles of panic started to seep through his system. Where was he? He could smell the dust, the sense that someone had not been here for a very, very long time. Though he turned and rattled at the door behind him, it refused to even twitch under one of his tugging hands. The other was still firmly latched onto the stuffed animal, you see.
“Kaasan? Touson?” There was no hiding the tremor that underlay his words. “Nii-san...”