What a fool. What an overconfident fool to have made a promise like that when he knew what the odds were. (They hadn’t been too much in his favor.) He’d had one shot, had just the one thing to do—just one. And he’d failed.
The memory of pain and betrayal still throbbed acutely in his right socket. If the poison still coursed through his veins, Shisui barely felt anything. Because really, he could care less about physical pain than what he was leaving behind unfinished. And he’d thought that impact against the rocks under the Nakano would finish him off. He remembered smashing up against a particularly jagged one when the current ripped him away downriver and he distinctly remembered tasting not only water but copper as well – a slurry of stuff that tasted like death. He’d thought it was all over when he’d finally blacked out after his lungs had burned and filled up with the river and the body’s instincts had kicked in and his muscles had exhausted themselves thrashing about in a desperate attempt to stay afloat despite his every intention to just… drown.
He’d thought it was over but—
Here he was again, consciousness ebbing back to lay on the guilt once more; the guilt of having failed, once again, to protect those that meant the most to him. In the grand scheme of trying to redeem himself from the unforgivable crime of murdering his friend, he’d gone and dropped the weight of the world on his best friend’s shoulders. He’d promised to walk beside him, promised to help him realize his dream; but the only thing he’d ended up doing was leaving things a bigger mess than they’d started out with.
And it’s this realization that makes him want to spit out the bad taste in his mouth, the leftover guilt that didn’t look like it had any plans of ever going away.
Shisui is somewhat surprised that guilt tastes a lot like sand and seawater. It makes absolutely no sense and tastes ridiculously real that despite everything, Shisui opens his eyes fully expecting to see. And he does, and it hurtles a good dose of shock his way when he remembers he’d fallen to his death without his eyes. No eyes at all. Just bare sockets: one still bleeding, the other cradling congealed blood.
What.
How—
And when his eyes finally focus and he sees more than just the shore he’d been washed up on… a face? He has to wonder who?
Shisui Uchiha | Naruto
What a fool. What an overconfident fool to have made a promise like that when he knew what the odds were. (They hadn’t been too much in his favor.) He’d had one shot, had just the one thing to do—just one. And he’d failed.
The memory of pain and betrayal still throbbed acutely in his right socket. If the poison still coursed through his veins, Shisui barely felt anything. Because really, he could care less about physical pain than what he was leaving behind unfinished. And he’d thought that impact against the rocks under the Nakano would finish him off. He remembered smashing up against a particularly jagged one when the current ripped him away downriver and he distinctly remembered tasting not only water but copper as well – a slurry of stuff that tasted like death. He’d thought it was all over when he’d finally blacked out after his lungs had burned and filled up with the river and the body’s instincts had kicked in and his muscles had exhausted themselves thrashing about in a desperate attempt to stay afloat despite his every intention to just… drown.
He’d thought it was over but—
Here he was again, consciousness ebbing back to lay on the guilt once more; the guilt of having failed, once again, to protect those that meant the most to him. In the grand scheme of trying to redeem himself from the unforgivable crime of murdering his friend, he’d gone and dropped the weight of the world on his best friend’s shoulders. He’d promised to walk beside him, promised to help him realize his dream; but the only thing he’d ended up doing was leaving things a bigger mess than they’d started out with.
And it’s this realization that makes him want to spit out the bad taste in his mouth, the leftover guilt that didn’t look like it had any plans of ever going away.
Shisui is somewhat surprised that guilt tastes a lot like sand and seawater. It makes absolutely no sense and tastes ridiculously real that despite everything, Shisui opens his eyes fully expecting to see. And he does, and it hurtles a good dose of shock his way when he remembers he’d fallen to his death without his eyes. No eyes at all. Just bare sockets: one still bleeding, the other cradling congealed blood.
What.
How—
And when his eyes finally focus and he sees more than just the shore he’d been washed up on… a face? He has to wonder who?
Was this hell…?