Uchiha Collision (Sequel of Uchiha Corp)

Torn to Pieces

(Obito POV) (Torn to Pieces by Pop Evil)

Sitting in the penthouse, my eyes take in my surroundings. I feel like I'm drowning. Every day I sit here, the world crashes down onto me. Pushing me deeper and deeper into the darkness. The lightless dark that swallows you whole. It eats you, gnawing your flesh as you fight to surface again. But it's there, dragging you further and further. Sucking the air from your lungs as you struggle against it.

I tried sleeping at the mansion, and it only made things worse. The memories at the estate are tainted with him, not only with Y/n but with myself. First, remembering my childhood with my parents. Then my teenage years where he was breathing down my neck. Finally, grooming me into his perfect image. I hated him then. I loathe him with passion now.

I try to hate Y/n. For what, I don't know. I slump in the chair on the balcony with my whiskey in my hand. My head cast toward the starless sky. I try to find a reason to hate her. Every time I think I've found something, I explain it away.

Her life during the case was not entirely her fault.

And while she lied about things throughout her marriage, I can't hold it against her. No matter how hard I try.

The fact that I even thought she was cheating on me makes my stomach tighten. Y/n may have kept her secrets, but she was loyal.

Hating Madara was one thing. Trying to hate Y/n was me trying to find comfort somehow. When, in truth, I hated myself. This was my doing. No one else's.

When I start to replay the days and weeks, now months, after Madara's escape, I can see each misstep I took. I played right into his hands, but it was still me that pulled the trigger. I was the one that blamed her. I was the one to walk away. I was the one who wasn't there. I was the one who pushed her away. I was the one who cheated. It was me.

The night sky blurs. The darkness eats away at me as my thoughts race. The whiskey doesn't burn anymore. I don't feel anything, though. I took another Vicodin. I have been. Every night. I don't know how I keep going. Keep moving. But I know I can't sleep if I don't do this.

I wake every morning, my mind hazy and thoughts scrambled. Then it comes flooding back. I go through the motions of the day. I shower and shave before dressing for work. I head to the office and take care of whatever needs to be done. Shisui and I speak, but there's no brotherly love between us.

Itachi and Sasuke walk on eggshells. Everyone can see the dullness that fills me, but no one says anything. And Y/n? She emails me as though nothing has happened. Direct and to the point. But she doesn't come into the office. Kakashi heard from Zabuza that she's staying in a hotel, but that's it.

She won't answer my calls. I can see that she's read my texts, but that's it. She won't speak to me. I can't blame her. But dammit, I miss her.

I miss how she teases me when I can't find something, and she hands it to me.

I miss the way she held Tsuki before bed.

I miss watching her with Kikyo.

I miss the way her breath hitches when I touch her bare skin.

I miss the way her eyes shine as I pull away after I've kissed her.

I miss the way she whispers my name in the darkness and the light.

I miss how she wiggles when I don't move fast enough when we're having sex.

I miss how I can still make her blush.

I miss her skin against mine.

I miss her taste.

I miss her lips.

I miss her.

Every inch. Every imperfection. Every curve. Every scar. Every insecurity. I miss my wife.

There are things I wish I could go back and say. Thing's I wish I could do. I wish I were the man she needed, the man she wanted. But is it truly too late? Is there any saving this? Saving us? Saving me?

Y/n doesn't need saving. She never did. Maybe that was my downfall. I always tried to hold her up, to protect her. It wasn't that she was too independent; she's too strong. She's stronger than me. Always has been. She's proven that time and time again.

She's proving that now. Kakashi and Zabuza both said that she seemed okay: given the circumstances. Apparently, she was driving to Suna this week. I'm dreading her going by herself. Kakashi said he begged her to take someone with her, even him, but she refused. Zabuza isn't speaking to me after the quick text of: Fix this shit before I fucking do.

Anko hasn't called or texted. Kind of surprised. Even more shocking, no headlines filled with rumors or photos of us not being seen together. That makes me feel like there's hope, which is wrong. But if I don't see it in black and white, maybe this is all some horrible nightmare I've yet to wake up from.

I leave my glass on the floor of the balcony as I stumble to the bedroom. I shed my shirt, leaving my slacks on. Crawling into the bed in my drunken and opioid-driven high, I see her there. She stretches her hand out to me with a sleepy smile on her face. I bury my head into the pillow as I try to smother the image away.

She isn't here.

I'm alone.

Her scent is leaving me. I shredded the sheets that were on the bed when Anko was here. But I pulled every article of clothing out that Y/n had in the hamper. I was down to the last shirt in the bin. Pulling the green fabric to my chest, I let the tears go. I can't count how many times I've cried. But the tears won't stop. And I don't fight them.

I beg. I plead. I'll sacrifice myself just to have her here with me again. One last time. I wasn't sure I ever would be able to hold her again.

I will keep fighting. I have to. The issue is all of the contenders I have to fight. I have to fight myself. I have to drag myself from the depths of the abyss before I can get anywhere. I don't know how. But I will. I must. I will have my wife again. I will hold her until the day I die. Even if the last thing I do is hold her, I will die happy as long as she is with me.

Sleep doesn't come easy; it never does. Instead, it creeps in, angrily covering me with a blanket of fear. I see death and destruction when I sleep. Vivid and dark.

Tonight, I'm shrouded with a crimson haze. Blood coats my hands as I stand over a corpse. I try to clear my vision, and I have to see who it is. Who lies at my feet? Who's blood covers me? Shaking my head and blinking away the cloudiness, a demented gleam fills my gaze. I smile in triumph.

This wasn't a nightmare, this was a dream. A fantasy. And, I hope, a premonition.

I've killed Madara Uchiha.