[Public Video Post] - Akatsuki

[wind_upon_waves]

[His eyes are blue fire but his face is hardened stone. Yondaime is angry beyond belief, but he can't do anything but supplicate himself to his enemies because it's Kakashi's life that's at stake. So he's here, addressing Konoha's worst enemy, forcing the words out.]

Uchiha Madara-dono. [His voice is surprisingly calm and undisturbed--respectful

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[a_for_tiori]

[And there it is again - it had all drained out of him that day in the rain, standing over Itachi's unmoving body, and suddenly it rushes back so quickly that he actually gasps aloud - the hatred. It wraps itself around him and sinks into every pore and poisons him from the inside out.

Why? The question is back again, the way it was, always. Why? Why are you like this, why did you do this, why did you kill them? Why did you kill him? why why why why why

Sasuke is eight years old again and swept up in the fucking senselessness of everything, the pointless cruelty of the world. It was to test my capacity. Once again his eyes were torn open and he saw that under the thin layer of order and rationality, under skin was a wound waiting to be opened, already festering, and any sense that the world was whole was just a lie that hadn't revealed itself. All of it. The stupid lighthearted conversations and the way he would feel a little better after them. Trying to tease him back for a change and failing miserably. Pretending to be annoyed by the way he called him "Sasuke-kun" but really, secretly - it was nothing, all of it. It was important that I did so. His bond with Kakashi had been a sham from the start. He had thought that Kakashi would survive, somehow, against all odds - thought that Kakashi would make it. It was a certitude except there was no certitude, and he should have known that, he did know that, why, why, why did he forget?

Why had this happened?

That was the reason? Just for that, you killed them? And he feels the world spinning around him, feels everything closing in on him, it grasps him, tears him open, shows his insides where he is vulnerable.

Except this time he finds he can answer the question himself - it doesn't matter. He doesn't care. Doesn't care one fucking bit what Madara wants, why he does things. Doesn't care the way he did about Itachi, because Madara is no one. Nothing. Less than nothing, less than the worst possible scum, and Sasuke doesn't want to know about why he did this because he's the lowest form of life that could ever exist and wondering about his mind is like wondering about the mind of a mad dog. Sasuke hates him, hates him, hates him so badly it hurts. He only knows that the fire inside him is relit, and it's howling. Screaming for blood. It won't be denied, and Sasuke has never tried anyway. The only thing to do is appease it. Feed it something and watch it go up and turn to ash.

Because when it's this bad, when that wound opens itself up, the only thing he can do is cauterize it with that hatred. The feeling is so familiar that it's almost comforting. Sasuke has lived half his life with it as his companion. He was raised on it, raised by it, his surrogate parent after the real ones were cut down in front of his eyes. That all-consuming fire had warmed him for eight years, and burned away anyone who tried to touch him. Protected him from the world, kept away anything that might open up his wounds again.

The open wound that he had always cast aside in favor of fire. He feels it burn through him, as thick and hot as chakra. It's power, that hatred. He feels invincible with it, and there is not even the slightest doubt in his mind when he thinks, I'll kill him. Because he will. Because he has to. Because once again, he has nothing else.

He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, and when he sees that the tears are red, he feels a sort of cold satisfaction.]