the fire that rages within

papertiigerisms:

(          What on earth was the boy talking about?   In him stood two choices,     

    and to reject both and construct what he wished….                       the boldness was to be expected,                                    the shorter girl mused silently. 

                   And the Uzumaki was certainly not of good standing where boldness was concerned- the ability to reject something so vital to tradition began fanning the memory inside her of why she began liking the horrible Uchiha in the first place,

  why she found c o m f o r t   in his cruelty-                              in how hollow he’d become.

    “I don’t think it’s as simple as that- though I hold no place in your decision you must know that logic deems such simplcity impossible in the face of what you’re choosing. I understand and love what you wish to accomplish by simply—  r e j e c t i n g both, but it’s just not…

            .possible.               )

⌈ ほのお ⌋—

                                                    “— And  that’s were our differences lie, Tiger .”

His voice was neither nonchalant nor condescending; it was ᴄᴏɴᴠɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. It was rather a certain enlightenment from a realization as vast as the golden deserts of Suna, deeper then the trenches that swallowed oceans and men. He learned of this…knowledge when his eyes would never stain colored scarlet, when the name of his family is nothing more but a burden he carries because he has neither their ability but only their blood. He knows what he can and cannot change, but there was more to that than this.

Foremost, he knew he cannot gain what he cannot have. That is simply T R U T H.
He was however change, of sorts. A living ⌈ p a r a d o x ⌋.

                   "Maybe you might not know…
                         ….I don’t think anyone has either….
                                  But I do not have the Sharingan or the Byakugan.

                                                                          I am the first of my kind to be freed—
                                                to reject the cursed destinies of both my clans.
                            I am the product of my families rejection to their
                   own destinies.

                                      I was born to reject reality.“

Slowly, uncharacteristically, calloused fingers reached to tug a strand of her hair that carelessly strayed on fluttered, pink lashes, placing it behind her ear. S l o w l y.

With a grin that can blight illuminated stars in the darkest nights.

     "You, my dear friend, are blocking the damn way.
                                            So unless you get out of my face—
                                                          then I will be forced to choose the
                                                                               between the easy route or the hard one.”