continued from here. @azymus
there’s no logical explanation for it. body moving at full capacity, he dodges any obstructions in his way and frantically tries to reason with his current situation, but his mind can’t settle on a single thought, except for needing to get back. back to where, though? or should he say when? he doesn’t get far ( nor does he come to any kind of conclusion ) before his older self teleports before him, a power he could only dream of having -- coming to a sliding halt, his eyes widen and the beat of his heart accelerates to the point of physically rattling him, breath bated.
it’s happening again. for the first time in years, he is immobilized, gaze locked on the man before him ( he has to be thirty, at least? could it really be him? no... ) and even as he’s addressed, he’s speechless. could it be a genjutsu? if so, then why didn’t he remember a conflict before now? he was training, he thought -- but as he tries to remember, what he thought had happened becomes blurry; was there even a transition between then and now? that makes him think -- maybe he’s fallen asleep? but it feels so real... then again. most of his nightmares do. in a single movement of determination, he takes his kunai and stabs the outer part of his thigh. this time, it accomplishes nothing. his goal isn’t to move, it’s to wake up -- to prove to himself that this is dream, and all it tells him is that it isn’t -- and he’s stabbed himself for nothing. slowly, fearful eyes move from his own hand to him once more as he retracts the weapon and puts it away, movements cautious. hands moving to in front of him, he views them with palms up -- the scent, the texture... the blood’s real. he’s here. this is when he looks back to himself, fifteen years later.
❝ i don’t... i don’t understand. this isn’t right. where the hell am i? ❞
