A/N: This was written in response to a SasuNaru contest posted to the Naruto Yaoi ML. It's rather a last minute entry, so I apologize for the rushed nature of the story. :)

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Parallax: Prologue

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"The present is the necessary product of all the past, the necessary cause of all the future."

- Robert G. Ingersoll, lecture (1899)

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He knew that some would forfeit their lives for the opportunity he'd been given.

Benediction.

Salvation.

Absolution.

Who wouldn't sacrifice his life for such a blessed fantasy?

Thin, chapped lips curled themselves into a poor mockery of a smile.

Indeed, his dreams and wishes had become nothing more than that, hadn't they? Nothing more than a fantasy ... intangible, elusive threads of gossamer that were as impossible to capture as the splendors of midnight.

Lazily, he tilted his head back against the tree trunk he'd been leaning on, allowing the rough bark to dig uncomfortably into his back and scalp.

The rich velvet of the evening sky splayed out in an encompassing shroud above him, hosting the scattered stars in a breathtaking array of diamonds. Through the tree's concealing leaves, he saw the waning orb of the moon, her revealing light a silent witness to the flaws and fears that plagued the Earth's creatures. Small or big, good or bad, right or wrong ... there was no doubt that She had seen Fate's fickle hand play with lives like mere puppets on strings.

A deep, resonating chuckle escaped his throat at the thought. The sound was clear and easily cut through the serene forest with pristine precision, but it boasted a brittle, hollow quality that reflected a tired body and a tired soul.

Him? Being controlled like a puppet?

No, he was stronger than that, and he would happily challenge anyone who dared contest the fact.

After all, wasn't it because of his strength that he was still alive today?

Wasn't that why he was the only one still alive today?

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, letting the refreshingly cool air clean out his lungs. In the distance, if he stayed motionless enough, if he stayed quiet enough, he could hear the voices of days long past, and of tears and laughter long forgotten, all mingling in with the sounds of the surrounding forest.

In his head, Naruto's brash, obnoxious shouts rang clear. In his head, Sakura's forceful demeanor shone through. And in his head, Kakashi's stable, laid back presence lingered still. But he understood that the moment he opened his eyes, everything would disappear and reality would come crashing back, stealing these carefully guarded images away like a so-called thief in the night.

Nevertheless, he opened his eyes and allowed his memories to disperse. He had never been one to avoid hardship or pain, and he would not begin now. Turning his head, his gaze fell upon the scroll that sat by his side. Slowly, and almost reverently, he ran his fingers over it, marveling at how that simple thing had the power to change it all. He had painstakingly stolen it from the nearby shinobi temple, the rumors he'd heard during his travels drawing him to it with an unknowing invitation to test out its contents.

In one smooth motion, he grabbed the cylindrical object and unrolled it across his lap. Dark, curious eyes automatically began to scan the markings scrawled throughout the aged surface, his active mind instinctively analyzing and interpreting what he saw. Years of training and fighting had prepared him well, for within minutes, comprehension dawned.

There were warnings and cautionary comments aplenty on the thing, all neatly depicted in some long-dead shinobi's hand, but he had given this too much thought to turn back now. Anything he did from this point onwards would be infinitely better than what he had already done, and he was more than willing to suffer the consequences.

With confident, sure movements, his hands began to imitate the jutsu etched on the scroll. He could feel his energy being channeled throughout his body, causing every muscle to sing and vibrate in tune with the particles around him. And his thoughts ... his thoughts had long flown away like feathers in the wind, leaving him with neither inhibitions nor reservations.

He had said that some would give their lives for this very opportunity. And it was the truth ... for he was one of them.

End Prologue