Dreams are today's answers to tomorrow's questions. But dreaming is simply running away. When Sasuke sleeps, it's not to escape life but to find reality, and a reason to exist.
The bottom note is important, so please read that, too.
- R to NC-17
- main course of SasuNaru, a side dish of KibaHina, and a NejGaa for dessert
- Romance, Angst, Horror, Mystery, Thriller, Psychological
- AU, language, mature contents, and 'implied' suicidal intentions
- I don't own Naruto, obviously
When his world darkens, all Sasuke needs to brighten it is to close his eyes and dream. It's the only way he can step out of the shadows.
It's all he does and all he can do.
That's probably why he's so pale, like a newly coated porcelain doll. He's becoming frail within, and much passionless outside. He doesn't see the world of light because his eyes are always shut. He's starting not to care anymore. The world can go fuck itself, screw the people, and to hell with reasoning Life.
Billion problems after another are starting to pile up while built up frustration is becoming an only emotion. They become worse when he's awake, molesting him like an annoyingly itchy scab you want to claw out so bad.
He waits by day -- acting in robotic movement -- unconsciously pleasing others with nothing but merely standing there like some flaming large statue made of money, gold, and ubersex.
Following his shadow, the only thing he can stand seeing, not to mention 'trust'. Waiting, though not patiently, until nighttime arrives, so that everyone has shut their mouth. Then, his headaches would subside.
Everyone who wants a piece of his bloody skin seems to burst out in every impossible corners and everyone who wants a piece of his heart are too afraid to creep up behind him like another stalker tailing him two feet behind. But then again, that was when he was in high school. Now, all problems are centering on one, mentally making him the bad guy, who, in high school, has nearly killed one of his grads for it.
Just what kind of reasoning is this? Day by day, all he does is move. All he does is stoically glare.
Nobody in this reality can satisfy his needs. Not a being real enough can fill his emptiness... who can light up a torch and burn his frozen soul into ashes. Burn his mind with images, unforgettable.
Like... satisfying sex? Inside his head, searing him, making him addicted to that different darkness, and stabbing him in murderous sin. Stitching his eyes shut so he can never open them again.
That's how he sleeps.
Deep enough that he may never wake up again.
After all... that's how soporific drugs and morphines work.
He's not suicidal... he just doesn't give a shit. It's not that he wants to die really bad. He's just letting it come when it wants to come... because he doesn't care.
For Death means eternal sleep.
Hatred was his reason to live, and it made him mad with retaliation from thoughts of those men, whom he calls the first ass his brother and the other ass-licker his boss -- whom, alas, he is working both with in business. He can't get a break every day. Positivity just isn't enough no matter how he fakes it.
But everything changes... and the only reason he's got now to keep living only exists in his dreams.
to be continued.
Two pages in AbiWord... woo-hoo. But I was really satisfied with keeping the prologue this short. When I tried to continue, I couldn't stand extending it with a different set of time-line for it won't parallel too well.
Also, this is a different verse of my previous -- in progress -- fanfic 'In Vertigo' (to which I'm still having a hard time breaking down the plot).
Before -- or after -- you comment the chapter, I'd like you to download "Jesus Christ" by Brand New and listen to it after you finish or while you're reading the chapter to get a feel of what the atmosphere of the plot is like... concerning that this fanfiction is based on the song.