This is the Sasuke POV I promised to write, after recieving a review today that really got me thinking, I read through the first part again and I felt the need to finish the second part. I cried all the way through finishing it and now I fee drained. In a way I feel relieved,. I hope you enjoy this second part. Thank you for reading the first and please let me know what you think, I love hearing peoples thoughts, please take a few minutes to review.

To anybody also reading Hope with Hidden Reason and One Word is all it Takes, please check my profile for progress news.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Those are my footsteps as I walk down the hallway, away from my mistakes. They echo off the walls and bounce back to me, as if the very air around myself is reminding me of why I'm here, alone. My heart is still beating from the rush the rush that has so many times knocked me down and kept me there until I can scramble back to some kind of normal. Nothing seems normal to me anymore. Why?

Because of you.


It's Sakura, not the person I wanted to see, then again, do I ever wish to see anybody any more? I stop my tracks and reluctantly turn to her, I fear my voice will break if I try to use it so I just stare at her.

"Have you been at Naruto's house? How is he? I haven't seen him in a while-hey...are you okay?"

As she rambled I thought about her questions. Yes I'd been at his house. He was probably feeling the same as I was, which was most definitely not okay. I wonder what you can see in my eyes, do you know what I'm feeling, do you understand what I've done?

"I'm fine." My voice seemed unfamiliar to me, just a programmed response I say, my brain is on auto pilot and I am somewhere deep inside, still cowering over my loss of control.

" look like you're in pain?" She spoke with concern in her expression, concern for me is pointless, what will it do? It can't take back what I've got myself into. It won't take away the dull throbbing seeping up my lower back, tormenting me with reminders of you. I am in pain. Both physical and emotional, it's a very familiar feeling. Without knowing it, the auto-pilot is back.

"I'm fine, I have to go now."

With that I left her and her concern, maybe someday if I ever heal, I may feel regret at not explaining myself, but for now, this is normal.

Everybody has noticed we are not ourselves. We are just broken shells of the people we used to be, washed up on the shore after many raging storms. At first the fighting stopped, now everything has. We stopped, we're ceasing to exist as we knew ourselves. If more storms come, we will be broken and washed up again, until we are nothing but fine sand, millions of miles apart on the vast expanse of a sandy cove. Just two tiny grains...far apart.

I'm becoming that grain. Our friendship has almost dissolved. The fighting stopped a long time ago but so did the laughing, the talking. Now it's: eat, sleep, sex, eat, sleep sex. It's programmed into us as tightly as breathing. Sex has become just a word. It used to be a thrill, a release, a secret, that we shared. Now it's a struggle, a reaction, a dirty need.

I know how you feel about yourself. You're ashamed of what you do, you want to take back every time but at the same time keep it close to you. You want to leave but you can't. You want to scream but it only burns your throat. I feel it too. I've never been one for feelings but in the safety of my own thoughts I admit I feel a million things at that time. When I am gasping under your body I feel free, I feel out of control, I feel sorry for you. I feel sorry because I know, like me, you will be confused after this. Why are we doing this? What has happened to us? Why can't I control myself? All thoughts I hear every single day.

I know you love me. I've known it because you say it with your eyes. I can hear it every time I leave your room, through the paper walls, though you never knew that did you? Every time you touch me I can feel it, every time you scream my name I can hear it deep within you and something inside my chest wants to scream those three words back to you. They are bound by many tight restraints however, pride, shame, uncertainty, fear.

I'm back at my house now, opening my cupboard to find a suitcase and a travel bag. Inside an envelope in my drawer is an escape route. I take it in my hands and feel something clench in my chest as I wait near to my door.

I'm remembering us. Age four: fighting on the first day of school. Age six: Waiting together alone in the playground knowing our parents will never be able to pick us up from school. Age nine: Playing basketball on the courts, laughing when you fell over and the ball landed on your face. Age 12: Spending almost all our time together. Age fifteen: Fishing on Saturdays, annoying one another, watching movies at my house. Age sixteen: You hugged me goodbye when you went on holiday. Age seventeen: I ran my hand along your face while you slept on my couch and wondered what the feeling in my stomach was. Age eighteen: We first kissed.

We began before 18. If I could take back that kiss I would. After that more followed, we laughed about it at first, we thought it was strange but inside there was a million fireworks going off within my body. I'd dreamed of kissing you. It embarrassed me but somehow you took the embarrassment away, you were light-hearted, it became fun. At age 18 I connected with you sexually, it was awkward, rushed, and new but we did it together and we finished in the midst of something refreshing and electric. That feeling continued for a while, we did it every way possible, all the time we laughed about it but we never...talked...about it.

Maybe that's why it began to fall apart. It went from sex to...just sex. I was never brave enough to take your hand as we sat on the pier and looked at the ocean, I was needy enough though to run it along your thigh and set off the spark within you that I'd got to know quite well. We didn't hug often because it felt awkward, we kissed, but only as an act of relieving frustration and for humour. I began to wonder why I felt sad when we did it, maybe because I'd expected something more. I didn't think it would begin to feel the same every time, at first it knocked the wind out of me but it began to just knock the confidence out of me. I began to wonder how long it would be like this, how long we'd continue to pretend this was what it clearly wasn't.

There can't be anymore pretending, I won't let it happen. You don't deserve this; you don't deserve to have me continuing to tear you apart. You are so different from me, you are strong and willing to let go, I am not. I have always been inside a shell, always hidden my true self because I don't know that part of me anymore, I lost that part of me when I lost my family. I wonder now, if they were still here, would things have been different? Would I have been less quiet, made lots of friends, been popular and welcomed it, constantly followed by everybody in school while you sat alone in the corner of the playground wishing you could be me? Would you have approached me and started that first fight that started us, would we have ended up a year later, still throwing fists but laughing about it afterwards? The truth is, probably not. Ironic, we found each other because of how unlucky we've been in life. That very thing that brought us together is now wrenching us apart and sending us to opposite sides of the earth. I can only let it happen, I am breaking down, any more and I won't be able to stay inside the shell I built at eight years old. The older, fragile baby self will find its way out and I don't know what will happen.

Nothing can happen, I won't let it.

My stubbornness is what is doing this. I won't allow anybody inside my shell, not even you, no matter how much I want it, no matter how much I need to you break me apart, tear me away and build me up again, I won't allow it. I don't deserve to be fixed like that and you don't deserve the job of fixing me.

That's why I'm here, driving in a mode similar to the one I spoke to Sakura with, though the mode is seeping away and leaving me feeling anxious and hurt and oh god, so very weak. I can see my hands shaking on the steering wheel, I can feel the burn behind my eyelids and I can sense the raw stinging in my heart, threatening to get out. I tell myself, when I arrive at my new destination, I will find an empty beach, remember us swearing we could skip stones farther than the other, and I will scream at the top of my lungs. I will allow as much out of me as I can, I will cry as hard as I have done since my parents died and I will wish I was with them in heaven.

One day you might thank me for this, though there's a doubt in the back of my confused mind. I will leave, you will re-connect with your old friends, the ones you hardly show yourself too anymore all because of me. You can laugh again, smile again, maybe a real smile. We can both walk through streets far away from one another and try and put each other in the back of our minds. We can be broken and depressed but maybe one day it will seep away to a level where we can marry and live comfortably in our new lives as if nothing ever happened. It is better to be like that, than the madness we were keeping ourselves wrapped up in, better than the bed we kept each other wrapped up in, but nowhere better than the past we destroyed. That can be a fond daydream, a memory.

I arrive at the airport and as I look up at the shiny letters and remember when we were here once, causing trouble before we even set off for China on a school trip when we were thirteen. God, the pain hits me, and for a moment my legs won't work, they tell me to turn around and bolt, to get back into my car and back to your apartment. Once I get there I could release the screams and the tears that have wanted to come and I could tell you that I love you, tell you that I always have done and that we should stop fucking around and let it be.

But I don't, I carry on forward, ignoring every presence around me as I pull along my suitcase and finger the ticket in my hand. I couldn't possibly turn around now, it's too late, I've made my decision and I will follow it through. By leaving I am ridding you of me, I don't deserve to love you. Fuck. I'm a coward, I'm scared to love you because ill let go of the shell I've always been protected by. And now I'm fucking running aren't I, like I've ran all my life, bumping into you all along the way.

On the plane. When did I get here? I still feel like I'm in your apartment. I can smell you on my T-shirt as I reach to put my rucksack in the overhead luggage shelf. I sit down and refrain from inhaling the grey cotton. God, I long for the days we would mock fight, tumble around in the grass in summer and land on our backs looking up at the blue sky and hot sun. We would laugh and find shapes in the clouds and you would tell me that one day we would go to the furthest place from England ever and we could stay there for a while. You swore to find me a girl there and set us up, we would bring her back with us and you would be the best man at our wedding. I laughed and you laughed and we would chase each other back home.

There are some promises in life I will keep. I am on my way to New Zealand - the furthest place in the world from England - and in the future, I will find a girl, and I might marry her. And at our wedding where I'm surrounded by people i don't really care to much about, I'll look to my side and imagine you in your suit, as my best man. People will think I'm crying because I'm marrying, but it's really because I'm imagining you. I'll do it, so you can somewhat keep your promise, I know you love to do that. I hope with all my heart you find someone too, I want you to be happy, without me. If that's possible.

I will always love you. That's one promise I can guarantee to keep for life. Even as I look at the faces of my possible children in the future, I will love you, I will keep our childhood fresh in my mind forever and I will look at the sky every night, think of you all the way in England and wish from the bottom of my heart that you are happy. If you don't want to love me anymore that's okay, in fact I hope you stop loving me, I hope you have a family and a new life and you are genuinely happy.

The rest of my flight has gone by. Landing, travelling, house. Not a home, a house. It will never be a home because to me, home is with you. I am here, it is empty and I am staring out of the new windows before I leave the house again in search of yet another destination.

Ironically, the beach I now stand on is deserted and the waves are crashing all around as if they are going through a terrible heart attack. It is dramatically representative of life. The empty beach where we crashed, the waves that were drowning us, the isolation. I remember my promise back in the car in England. How many hours ago was that? How many hours have I been away from you? Do you know I've gone yet? Did you know I'd leave? Somehow I suspect you did, you were worrying about it. You'll find out when you search for me tomorrow and I am not there, nobody will be able to tell you where I've gone and the realisation will happen. I can almost feel the dead emptiness that will hit you at that moment. Briefly I remember Sakura and regret not saying goodbye or even acknowledging her before I left. I'll never get the chance to fix that.

I'm never going to see you again.

The thought hit me hard as the waves that hit the rocks around me and I physically tremor, feeling as if the wind is blowing right through my body and tearing me to pieces. Never again would I see your blonde hair and compare it to the sun. Never again would I see your blue eyes and marvel at how expressive they were. No more will I feel your heart beating rapidly against my chest. It's all gone.

I scream. I scream as loud and as fierce as my throat allowed me, and even when I passed the allowed volume, my head continued to scream, again and again until I collapsed to the damp sand and let my eyes flood it as much as the waves did. I threw out my emotions as much as I could, all the years and time I'd spent holding them back just flew out of me and were taken away by the sound of the waves. All I could hear was roaring, all I could feel was cold dampness and when I next opened my eyes, I was laying on my back in the sand with water up to my ears. The roaring had stopped but all there was now, was a dark empty pressing silence that I realised I would never get rid of. I couldn't bring myself to sit up even though the water had risen past my ears and now all I can hear is the rushing of water against my eardrums. I briefly consider letting it rise over my face and breathing the water in, just to end this life I don't want. I don't though, I have a promise to keep, and I owe you that at least.

I stand, water drips off me and the sound of the sea is back, it is calm for now. The only time I ever want to cry again is at the wedding I promised you, when the imaginary memory of you is there and smiling as goofily as you did when we were kids.

I make my feet move, I breathe, I hurt, and I walk, for you. Everything I do will be for you, for the promise you made me when we lay in the grass, for the love I will never cease to feel.

I will build up another shell and I will let it keep me inside until the day I die. Until that day, I will keep my heart beating for you. I hope you find happiness in your life again. It's all I'll ever want apart from you yourself.

I leave the beach and think of you, on the other side of earth, as the sun sinks down.