A/N: Oh man oh man, guys I am soooooo sorry. Wow. This was the longest wait ever! I guess I just kind of lost the fire for this story, but I finally wrote the final chapter! There might be an epilogue, but I think I might like this better without it. (Maybe what I was going to do as the epilogue would make a better one-shot…) Anyways, anyone who's still reading, thanks for sticking with me even through this crappy ending…I know that good stories with bad endings are really annoying, but I think I like the way this chappie turned out, so enjoy. Chapter title is from "Malleus Maleficarum" by AFI. I'm going to post all the reviewer responses in a new chapter Monday, because there are so many and there are still a few that I haven't written yet, but they'll be there! They would be there tomorrow, but we have a long weekend, so I won't be at school, and thus won't have the internet. Anyways, enjoy the chapter, and look for reviewer responses in the next few days.
But Home Is Nowhere…: Steal Away The Darkened Pages (from Malleus Maleficarum)
It was strange how different things were once everything was said and done. When Itachi had found out, he'd cried, which surprised Naruto to some extent, but he knew, in the back of his mind, he'd expected it. There were a lot of false tears shed at the funeral, though, and he was almost sure that Itachi and himself were the only ones that were truly grieving. Sakura was there, and she looked sincere enough, but then she came up to Naruto and spit at his feet, saying something about everything being his fault, and if only Sasuke had chosen her, none of this would've happened. He didn't pay much attention, and in the end, it didn't really make a difference.
He moved into the Uchiha mansion, taking up permanent residence in Sasuke's room, he and Itachi making vain efforts to console each other, both having lost the only important thing in their lives. He touched nothing, sleeping on the broken bed every night, surrounded by the dead boy's dirty clothes, memories slipping through him as he ran his hands over the dresser, the walls, anything he could get his fingers on, and he mourned all the things he would never know. Throughout it all, Itachi was there, mourning with him, though he never shed another tear after his initial break down. It seemed to Naruto that Itachi had nothing now, and that, maybe he'd allowed Naruto to move in because, in some twisted way, he was a souvenir of Sasuke. He understood. It was the same reason he'd agreed to come.
Needless to say, Mr. Iruka was slightly shocked when Naruto trudged into class a week later, his face stained with tears, wearing clothes that looked dirty and a few ragged papers clutched in his hands. The teacher was about to say something, to send him back home, or tell him to go see the guidance counselor when Naruto tossed the papers on his desk, saying brokenly, "I'm not staying, I just thought you should have that." He paused for a moment, but continued when he received a confused look, "It's my project about the one quality of Sasuke that I studied."
He turned and left before Iruka had a chance to respond, and the man almost shouted after him, but decided not to, turning his attention instead to the papers on his desk, picking them up and beginning to read.
You should know before you start reading that I didn't start this process looking for a friend, or for a lover, but that's what I ended up with. I learned that one can never really know a person until you take time to look into their soul, and though the poems you are about to read are not necessarily about beauty, they were inspired by it.
Epic beauty of the deadliest kind
Walked through the door completely unaware
The world saw nothing and I diverted my gaze
But the light shone brighter from the corner
And all I could do was watch as it withered
A rose gone dry, pedals so soft they hurt
And suddenly I wonder what its fortune is
The rose in the dark
The world is mad
Rocking on its edge
Bind it within straight jacket lies
Everything will fall to itself
Bow down before this insanity
Murder and Pain
Nothing can stop this disease
Red ink on the stomach
Kiss the heels of tyrant gods
And cry as they walk away
He died, We died, I died
Now there is nothing
Spirit drained, heart empty
One life lost, another gone
A knife through a heart
And a broken body on the street
A cost greater than that of any love
Bleeding before shattered windows
Reflection painted morose on shards of glass
Crepes and wisteria
Black lace ceilings and orchids crushed
Light illuminates sorrow on a face of whiskers
And as the sun rises up
Night falls once again
I guess reading these, you must think they're kind of corny, but they're what getting to know Sasuke brought to me, and in the end, it doesn't really matter what you think of them, because he was beauty, and that's the only thing that ever really meant anything.
A/N: Ahh! That's the end…it's been, what? A year since I started. Wow… I'm kinda nervous about the poetry, but I guess there's nothing I can do about it now. Thanks to EVERYONE who's been reading and who's ever left a review, I love you all! And in the next few days, I'll add one more chapter that will be only reviewer responses for the last two chapters. Love Y'all!