For once in my entire life of this special ritual of my mother's and mine, this was the most crummy of them all.

After mentioning his name, my mother could not pick up on the mood of my tone, leaving her completely in the dark about the situation.

It was probably better it stays that way, but it didn't stop the guilt from eating me up from the inside out.

"That's another one for me," she declared, placing down the black toy gun that resembled a pistol. My mom had shot 29 colorful balloons with it in the stall we were at.

I sighed, placing down the toy gun that was similar to hers on the ledge of the stall. "Well, it's 1 to 14," I recalled the scores from my memory.

My mother leaned against the metal supporting beams of the stall that held it up steadily, "Never seen you lost this bad before," she told me.

"Guess you're just getting better," I suggest. My mom thought about it. "I don't mean to brag, but I have been working out lately," she said, giving me a snarky grin.

I laugh. It wasn't often that my mom said stupid things like this. If she did, it was usually to break the tension in the atmosphere, and it always worked like a charm every time.

She giggled with me. A little bit after, we stopped and left the stall to find a vending machine since we were both parched after playing all those games.

We found one somewhat isolated from the festival and peered inside its glass to look at its condiments. It held the basics, Pepsi, coffee, sprite, the usual.

"What'll it be?" My mom asked, pulling out her wallet and flipping through the money. I argued in my head, debating what I should get.

"Iced coffee," I replied finally. She nodded and placed in the money, allowing the vending machine to suck it in and hearing the clank of our drinks dropping to the bottom.

My mother bends down and grabs our drinks, one a brown can with patterns spread across the cover and a blue one with bubbles around the brand name. She takes it from the compartment in the vending machine handing the coffee to me.

We walk over to a bench and rest our feet after walking for 2 hours. We both opened our cans and drink in complete silence. There was nothing needed to say.

After finished our drinks my mother held out a hand to me, silently offering to throw away my can for me. I silently thanked her as I handed the can to her, letting my fingers warm up from the touch of the cold can.

She left the bench to walk over to a nearby trashcan, leaving me alone with my thoughts that tormented me for what seemed like forever.

He's been lying to you, the voices whispered to me. He could've trusted you, but he didn't. No matter how hard I tried, they kept coming back.

You've done everything for him, and what has he given you in return? Nothing. Nothing. NOTHING.

The voices echoed in my head. I felt like crying at the moment. The tears would have started falling if I didn't realize my mother was coming back.

"Well, I guess that's it for today," she told me. She reached into her pocket, grabbing something out. They were her car keys. She began twirling them in the air on her finger. "Need a ride home?" She asked.

<>>

"Thanks, see you tomorrow," I told my mother in a kind manner. She nodded, "See you tomorrow, kiddo," she said, pulling out of the parking lot and driving in the direction of my house.

I sighed, turning around to look at the thing I dreaded this entire night. I walked up the cold concrete stairs, my feet getting heavier from each step.

The cold night hair was finally getting to me. Goosebumps started forming from the tips of my hands to the rest of my body.

Without realizing I had already gotten to the floor, I stared dreadfully at the hallways to my left. It seemed to go on for forever with no end.

I started walking. My pace was slow as I dragged my feet reluctantly while walking to the door. I felt sick as if I were going to throw up any second.

The walk to the door felt like an eternity, I might as well have been in a time loop, and as if a second had just passed, I was at the front door.

I contemplated in my mind if I should open the door or not. If I open it, I'll have to confront Naruto, but if I don't, what will I do? There was no option here.

I grasped the doorknob, and slowly turned it, opening the door. The door was wide open, and yet, no Naruto insight.

Maybe he left, now I don't have to confront him, "Hey, Sasuke!" The words that were once comforting to me now sent shivers down my spine.

I looked at the voice, fear visible in my eyes. I looked up at Naruto. His moist hair strongly suggested that he had just taken a shower.

He seemed to feel the tense mood, "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked. I stayed silent, not looking away from his eyes.

He took a step forward, "Hey, are you okay-" "GET AWAY!" I yelled, taking a few steps back, almost tripping over myself.

He gave me a confused and scared look, "S-Sasuke?" he stuttered, a tinge of fear in his voice.

"Naruto Uzumaki, huh?" The moment those words left my mouth, I saw an expression on Naruto's face which I had never seen before, pure fear.

"W-What are you talking about?" He stammered. "Naruto, just admit it," I demanded him.

He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, as if to say something but decided against it. "You're right, I'm the last Uzumaki," He admitted, his eyes directed at the ground beneath him.

A/N Ello guys, here to tell you that I have finally decided on how that story will go, there will sadly be no smut, and this might be the second last chapter depending on how long I'll have it. Just a heads up :)