Uchiha Itachi
~
He sits in the darkness of his room, staring at a nonexistent reflection in the luminous screen. In his mind, the imperceptible ceiling above him is a grey sky. The usually unnoticed lines on his fingers are heavily accentuated by the white light. He perceives them as a reminder of the worry lines digging through his forehead. He knows that he doesn't know how to stop pretending. And though the weight of his world is a giant nothingness playing a relentless game of hide and seek with his heart's shadows, he remains faithful to the light.
When you close your eyes, do you feel less pain, or more pain? I asked him the question with a voice that escaped me, a tone I could not recognize. Less, he calmly said. And while I was drowning in tiresome thoughts about how my inner hell is greater than the fake fires of reality, he dropped the metaphysical bomb.
We've all been dealt a shit hand, Kambris. And we're all bluffing, just bluffing.
Thinking back, I realize now that I should've replied with words we both know very well...
"Art..."
The light either shines through the darkness or remains a timelessly fading shadow. The shadows are revealed like shiny scars, ripped at the edges, overflowing with immaterially dense tears. The light remains. The shadows are revealed, revealed and never discovered. The light is there, still. The shadows unwaveringly tremble beneath his delusional fingertips. The light is heavy, inside-out. The shadows seek revenge against your anonymity. The light is always knocking at your door. The shadows know you framed them because you couldn't own up to your crimes. The light is peeking through the keyhole. The shadows will hold you forever when you fall. The light rushes slowly through that nameless gap above the floor – beneath the child's door. The shadows toy with my fractured soul while my eyes watch their hateful reflection unfold in the grey mirror. The light breaks. The mirror breaks too.
Let there be light, and many, many shadows. Blessed be the brave and blessed be the child who closed his eyes.
The light breaks – through.
It becomes – you.
Dawn.
~
"Art... is an explosion."
Masashi Kishimoto