the fire that rages within

papertiigerisms:

Sharinganless

(           I need the moon. I need him so, so much. In him I find my ability to run, and to walk and to cry- and he’s my moon.

                                                    P l e a s e.

                  The dirt beneath her long fingers was biting into what hope she had to engage her muscles into standing ever again- the sound of smattering and rain around her form making everything inside her body                

                     shake with rage against what could have been.

You realize he doesn’t love you, right?

     He never will.

         The echoes of enraged women enter her mind like stabs of insignificance in the face of her ability to continue on-

   That’s not what I want—                 but what was what she wanted?  

                                                      P l e a s e.  

And the crumpled girl looked at the pink hair around her, pieces stuck into the mud like the lyrics of the girls whom had cut it so kindly for her. 

    You ugly little bitch- you’ll be even uglier now,

       One leg twitched, moving slightly as she shook and trembled and stood, blood accenting the dryness of her lips.

He’s an Uchiha. You think because he chooses to let you into his everyday, he actually cares about you?

     Slowly she moved forward, what was left of the curls on her head pulling down by how wet they’d become; and her freckles looked like imploded stars, bruises covering her skin like screams of insignificance to her being,

      she knew everything was true.

     He was just as rude to her as he was anyone else.   But she was a d d i c t e d          to those moments when he would open up, and a pearl could be seen within his chest, a tiny moment of love and forgiveness and even if she broke under the gravity of his moon she wished to still be his ocean…

but that didn’t make sense out loud.

         And she moved under the cover of a nearby tree in the training ground where she’d been chosen target, allowing every bone and muscle in her body to surrender.                     He wouldn’t come for her.

                      He didn’t care.

          But she saw herself in him- an opposite world of confusion and failure sleeping on  his clan symbol.        The Uzumaki allowed her pink lashes to flutter in finality as she slept, ignoring the pain inside her ribs every breath battered her with.

     If she were to go home when everything was fresh- she’d worry everyone.   

            The Uzumaki who couldn’t heal herself—               

                                                 No. The Uzumaki who never would.  

                                                Please let me die.                  )

⌈ ほのお ⌋—-

                                               ’— She was either blindingly stupid,
                                                             or a closeted masochist.
                                                               Or both, just to be sure. -—’

He doesn’t know why the girl continued to follow him anyway, like a starry-eyed puppy who often get kicked around for no reason other than it kept on following them. Except Honō wouldn’t kick her—he’s not that violent like his mother. Nor would he take advantage of her desperation to be in his company—he’s not that manipulative like his father.

He was, however, aware of the situation the girl was in. Or at least, he understood why she wanted to stay by his side, much to his annoyance.

In anyone’s point of view, they were both— ғ ᴀ ɪ ʟ ᴜ ʀ ᴇ s. They found solace and toleration in each other’s presence, though only to a degree on the young heir’s side.

Preferably, he’d like to be left a l o n e. 
                    He was already dealing with so much trouble and pressure from both noble clans; not including the troubles he himself “ accidentally " caused.

To most people, he was hostile;aggressive;asshole-ish. And some are often intimidated by that—which is the reaction he’d expected from them. However, this pathetic girl, the Hokage’s daughter, Uzumaki Konohana (”that was her name, right?“)— she was trouble the moment he told her he too shared her problems.

.

But he didn’t m i n d her presence, at all.
                    For the most part, he enjoyed her company. She can be stubbornly timid and overly frustrating to listen to, because she would complain and complain and complainand he kinda got bored of it.

But she was also…interesting, and clever, and she knows how to hold herself. She reminded him of Menma sans his animalistic inclinations and spontaneous bloodlust. Sans his also asshole-ish attitude. And his deplorable personality. And the fact that he kept ignoring his mom.

So he decided, again, to pity the girl once more. Coming down from the tree he had taken shelter earlier from the rain, he stood in front of the girl. She was kneeling on the ground, her face p r e t t y face dirted with the muck and the tears bawled her eyes out and the pained expression of hurt and disappointment that he often seen her carry.

                     "Hey, Tiger—”
                              That was what he always called her,
                            honestly, he can’t bother with her name.
                                         "—Shut yer trap.
                                               You’re giving me a headache, seriously.“