Sasuke stared at the ceiling of his 'prison.' It had been weeks since the war ended and 'peace' settled in—though not a permanent peace, just a brief respite from the suffocating conflict that had plagued them for so some time. Since then, he had remained confined in this cell, likely for the satisfaction of the civilians and the council. He didn't care either way; he didn't want to stay here, and he knew the villagers didn't want him either. He wasn't blind; he could see the hatred and fear radiating from them whenever he walked through the village with Naruto, who could stop him if something went wrong, reassuring the villagers in the process.
He didn't fault them for their feelings, nor did he care about their hatred. He had no regrets about his choices—well, perhaps a few regrets about the casualties that had nothing to do with his revenge (directly at least). But they were simply in his way. He chuckled softly at the thought, how easily he justified it all, but Regret also meant accepting the murder of his clan as a justified action, agreeing with his brother's asinine massacre and other things he would never agree with for the rest of his life. He had simply accepted those events as cruelties of existence.
He told himself he lost to Naruto not because he believed his goal was wrong, but simply because there was nothing left for him to win. That was the cruelest truth. Even if he had killed Itachi, destroyed Konoha, and reshaped the world to his liking, he would still lose because there was nothing he could truly claim as a victory. He lost the moment his brother took everything from him. It wasn't about Konoha's paranoia or his clan's discrimination or Itachi being caught in a difficult decision; it was about his fate being decided by someone else from the very beginning. There was no other way, no other road to take. It had always been one path for Sasuke, and no matter how far he walked, he would never find his destination at the end of that road because it had long been destroyed.
He sighed, reaching up to touch his left eye where his Rinnegan throbbed with a dull pain. He didn't know much about this dojutsu, but it pulsed softly whenever he felt deep emotions—as if it were a manifestation of his heartache.
Trying to lull himself to sleep, he reflected on how Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi had been checking on him since he arrived here—the only ones who cared (enough to visit at least), though he wasn't surprised. He had also spoken with the current Hokage, Tsunade Senju. More accurately, she had talked while he listened or nodded at appropriate moments. Tomorrow marked another of his 'freedom days' in the village, a chance to stretch his legs and breathe some fresh air.
'I wonder if they'll let me go to the Uchiha district this time?,' he thought before drifting into a pleasant sleep—too pleasant, perhaps, but he didn't dwell on it.
In the dead of night, when most humans succumbed to deep slumber and darkness enveloped the world, something strange began to unfold in an unknown part of Konoha. In a small room, the window cracks drifted the crescent moon's glow upon a figure sleeping deeply—a rarity for a shinobi, but this one was an exception.
Suddenly, the sleeping figure—the last Uchiha—began to glow with a soft blue light before scattering like sand in the desert. The tiny pieces of glowing energy started from his head and cascaded downwards. This ethereal scene continued until the figure vanished completely, leaving behind only the faint glimmering remnants of energy before they too disappeared, plunging the room into deafening silence.
Pure silence. This was the day the last Uchiha vanished without a trace. Some would say he escaped using his cursed eye techniques while others whispered that Konoha had eliminated the last survivor of the accursed clan. How? No one knew—except for the ever-watchful darkness that observed everything.