iNo./i

I saw the eye for only a moment, but that was enough. In that one moment, I had made my greatest mistake. . .

The ground seemed to fall away as my vision disappeared behind my heavy eyelashes and nothing was there to catch me. A few moments passed and I opened my eyes, but there was nothing but blackness, as if they were still closed. And when I closed my eyes, my sight returned; revealing to me something so beautiful and frightening I don't believe I understand it. . . It was water; pure, clear water laid out before me like an empty canvas. It reflected nothing, yet I could see into and out of it. But the beauty was not in the water; my perfect mirror and haven. It was what I could not see that startled me so. Everything was clearer and softer than ever before; I could see no imperfection. . .

iThe torture would begin. I knew it would soon, but I had wished not to believe it. Wished for myself to be wrong and it just be some harmless kid . . . but alas; this was no child's play. This was sharingan. More specifically, bMangekyo/b sharingan./i

I opened my eyes in the same fashion as one would blink. When I closed them again (who knows; maybe they really were open), the soft mirror of water had become ice. The world felt hard and cold, but I could not turn to see the rest of it. . . Somewhere, deep in the ice, something shone bright red and violent. It seemed to burn through to me. As if it were pleading to be set free to scorch and burn and destroy. As if it was my duty to free it. I tasted remorse on my lips and realized that no matter what, I would set this free. I would let it burn through me and the world. . . I understood I would have the power to stop it . . . if only I weren't afraid. If I could love this destroying power, I could stop it; cease the pain and evil it once held. . .

My heart ached for this red thing. For this fire. I wanted to embrace it, to feel it, to understand it. And I sensed that I already did. My face now reflected in the red glow of the ice and I saw tears. Oh how I longed to know what was so unjustly contained in it. How I wished to comfort the monster it held. . . And the ice began to melt. And shapes began to form. The dots began to connect; the red became something full and clear and I could not deny the urge to touch the glass, make it melt faster. My eyes burned as the shape came into view. . .

Love.

It was the kanji for love. Bright red and burning to my very core. I saw this and the tears came faster, stronger. They burned my eyes with such intensity, but I could not stop them. And I wished to stare at the shapes – those perfect lines with perfect meaning – for forever and a day. But the ice turned to sand. The tears burned out my eyes. The icy rigidity of the world crackled and burned. . . The torture began. . .