𝟘𝟘𝟜: 𝕊𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕜𝕖

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Rage filled every inch of his being, as he rushed towards the blond before him, the crackling of his signature technique a distant echo in his ears, as a blood red haze that had nothing to do with his kekkei genkai flooded his already blurry vision

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Rage filled every inch of his being, as he rushed towards the blond before him, the crackling of his signature technique a distant echo in his ears, as a blood red haze that had nothing to do with his kekkei genkai flooded his already blurry vision.

The blond drew closer to him, and even though his vision was failing, he could still imagine the expression of utter fury on his face(like that day in the Valley, him against his best friend, throwing away everything for his goal, throwing her away-), and the feeling of déjà vu that resulted would have overwhelmed a lesser man.

But he knew better than to let emotion get in the way.

Emotions were weak. They influenced you into thinking irrationally, made you do stupid things, kept you from reaching your true potential (I love you so much! If you stay with me-).

Almost as if summoned by his thoughts, a flash of pink entered the bloody haze of his vision.

No.

Where had she come from? He had vaguely registered Kakashi restraining her exhausted form at the beginning, and he had been sure she was too weakened to interfere, so how-? No, that wasn't important. What was important was that he and Naruto were on a war path, and she was in the way. He was wrong, this wasn't like the day at the Valley of the End. With a sinking feeling he realised must be horror, he corrected himself.

It was the day at the hospital, all over again.

Only that, unlike last time, She wouldn't be getting away unscathed.

Emotions were weak. However, this didn't prevent his eyes from widening, didn't prevent him from feeling fear for the first time in a long time, didn't prevent him from trying to veer off course, even if this would mean thwarting his quest to get stronger (I must get strong, strong enough to avenge Itachi, and what better way to do it than to defeat the saviour of that damned village-?).

Not her. Anyone, but her.

Not the girl who could always bring out the best – and worst – in him, who would always make him feel so much (Sakura, who did this to you-?).

Not the girl who had tried her hardest to save him (she wasn't stupid, she had seen the signs, she had just let it fuel her efforts-), the girl who was the only thing preventing him from falling over the edge into insanity, the one who held him together.

Not the girl who held his heart.

Even as he watched, her back straightened, and a determined glint entered her eyes (I vow, I swear, 'til my dying breath, I will protect my boys – that includes you, Sasuke-kun!), and the smile that graced her face would have taken his breath away (but he was already breathless, in dread, because no, not her, anyone, but her-).

Emotions were weak. But they made her strong.

He was strangely numb when Kusanagi cut through her, but the sight of her pained face brought it all crashing down onto him.

He couldn't help but close his eyes, allowing himself a brief moment of weakness, only to force them open seconds later.

He had to watch. He had to witness this, no matter how much pain it caused him, because it was his fault. This trivial fight, this ridiculous notion of vengeance – would it never stop? (Or perhaps it would, because now, the person he cherished above all else had been claimed by it-)

He deserved to watch, because he had tainted her with his darkness, and he had broken her.

Her, the girl who had selflessly loved him, who had saved him from being overwhelmed by the darkness, from falling off the edge into the abyss-

Emotions were weak, but he couldn't keep his arms from wrapping around her as she fell, couldn't help the slight trembling that wracked him-

Their eyes met, his wide with emotions long forgotten, hers, slightly unfocused, set in a face splattered with blood (it doesn't suit you, blood red doesn't suit you-), the message they wanted to convey ringing loud and clear nonetheless, even as they closed (no, not for the final time, because she can't be dying, not her-)

I forgive you.

I forgive you, Sasuke.

A thousand times over, I forgive you.

How can you forgive me so easily?

… How can I ever forgive myself?

He couldn't keep himself from brushing his (slightly shaky) hand through her hair (because, hell, those rumours were true, he did like long hair, but only if it was pink, and paired with the brightest, greenest eyes he'd ever seen, and that smile-).

He ignored Naruto's frantic rambling, staring into her face with burning intensity.

No, you aren't dead, you can't be dead, stop playing, wake up, please. I can't, won't believe it…

…Because she was the glue that kept his sanity (his whole being) together…

And losing her would push him off the edge.

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