[ Sasuke has never heard the stories about his abandonment of the village. He left his peers behind, the only people who had really mattered were Naruto... Sakura. There was no love lost on him to turn his back on all of them to go after his goal of revenge.
It's easy to see the way people love Naruto. They all support him in the village, in ways Sasuke never would have thought possible as a boy. It would have been nothing to them, with no bond to Sasuke, to agree to come after him. He'd joined Akatsuki, been a vessel to help them forward their plan. Everything had seemed so much smaller to him, then— narrowed and thin. Kill his brother, raize Konoha, kill the kages— steps toward the conclusion of wiping the Uchiha off the map.
Revolution had come later. Acceptance, later than that.
He can't bring himself to look back at Naruto when he speaks. This isn't the first time he's heard this raw quality to his friend's voice, but somehow it seems... more personal.
Even after I begged— I didn't know if I could beat everyone else too— ...it felt like I lost everything.
Sasuke can see the reflection of his own face in the water, warped and hazy by the steam and the sparkle of magic. He's probably as old as his father had been, now, much older than his brother ever had the chance to be— and only here, with the young mirror of his best friend, does Sasuke realize just how much Naruto had been willing to give up.
His life was one thing. As ninjas, their lives had always been forfeit. He thinks of Naruto begging the Raikage, when Sasuke had callously taken the man's brother to further his own ends. He thinks of what it would have been like for the woman who became his wife to tell Naruto that it was too late and that the only due course was death— for everyone to turn their back on his cause after he'd spent years forging bonds that weren't Sasuke.
Sasuke glances up through hooded eyes, forcing himself to look— to watch Naruto from under the shield of his lashes.
How selfish he had been. He never would have survived if Naruto hadn't come for him. ]
You're so stubborn.
[ Sasuke's voice is so soft that he doesn't recognize it as his own. He hadn't even known he could sound that way. ]
im so sorry
It's easy to see the way people love Naruto. They all support him in the village, in ways Sasuke never would have thought possible as a boy. It would have been nothing to them, with no bond to Sasuke, to agree to come after him. He'd joined Akatsuki, been a vessel to help them forward their plan. Everything had seemed so much smaller to him, then— narrowed and thin. Kill his brother, raize Konoha, kill the kages— steps toward the conclusion of wiping the Uchiha off the map.
Revolution had come later. Acceptance, later than that.
He can't bring himself to look back at Naruto when he speaks. This isn't the first time he's heard this raw quality to his friend's voice, but somehow it seems... more personal.
Even after I begged—
I didn't know if I could beat everyone else too—
...it felt like I lost everything.
Sasuke can see the reflection of his own face in the water, warped and hazy by the steam and the sparkle of magic. He's probably as old as his father had been, now, much older than his brother ever had the chance to be— and only here, with the young mirror of his best friend, does Sasuke realize just how much Naruto had been willing to give up.
His life was one thing. As ninjas, their lives had always been forfeit. He thinks of Naruto begging the Raikage, when Sasuke had callously taken the man's brother to further his own ends. He thinks of what it would have been like for the woman who became his wife to tell Naruto that it was too late and that the only due course was death— for everyone to turn their back on his cause after he'd spent years forging bonds that weren't Sasuke.
Sasuke glances up through hooded eyes, forcing himself to look— to watch Naruto from under the shield of his lashes.
How selfish he had been.
He never would have survived if Naruto hadn't come for him. ]
You're so stubborn.
[ Sasuke's voice is so soft that he doesn't recognize it as his own. He hadn't even known he could sound that way. ]