Forbidden String: Prologue
Forbidden String
Standard Disclaimers Apply
Summary: After so many pushes, Sasuke has finally tripped over the edge of sanity. Yet with his ambition slipping away before his own hand could ever fulfill, a forbidden jutsu is used, thus tying their lives together.
Warning: This fanfiction contains mature theme of dark incestuous yaoi, blood play, some violence and character with unstable mentality. If you find any of the contents disturbing, I suggest you leave this page immediately. You’ve been warned, so please don’t flame me about that.
Pairing: Itachi/Sasuke (Incest) There might be more as the story progresses.
Note: The text written in Italic is Sasuke’s POV.
I know I don’t have much time left. I know it’s only a matter of time before I lose myself, completely. I know what He wants. It’s so clear what he’s doing to me despite how many times I try to escape. Me and my sanity.
There’s so little of the old me left...so little of that thing so-called ‘sense of morality’. And now…all I can see is nothing…but the shade of... enticing red.
Prologue
Red, red, red. Reddest redness staining everywhere - my clothes, my hands, my hair, my face…and even on my lips where I sweep my tongue across, feeling the familiar coppery, bittersweet tang. A taste I’ve come to adore. How ironic.
I feel the corners of my lips twitch, slowly curving into their customary smirk - maybe that’s something that doesn’t change much - as I take my time marveling at the wonderful yet nostalgic sight I myself have created…
Many bodies lay scattered on the ground - all dead, all lifeless - drenched in their own pools of blood. Weapons had been drawn - most seen lying in splinter - shuriken had been used - still be seen embedded in some of the solid surfaces around the area - to kill, to protect themselves, whatever it was, their owner had failed. Above them, the cold full moon still shone brightly, illuminating the ruthless crime so obvious to the eyes of the beholder as if to mock those who had fallen.
Traces of blood went as far as an eye could see. Some who might have fled had never had the chance to. They had never succeeded; for it was clear in the rule of the ninja that one must held the respect for oneself, thus never beg in front of an enemy, especially one as cruel and heartless as a monster and one breaking the rule deserved nothing but most painful and merciless death. Because…
In that monster’s eyes, begging for your life was the worst crime of weakness and such weakling had better die than struggle with such pathetic life.
“You’re making quite a scene, aren’t you?”
I hear him say. And I can’t help but smirk even more, for as much as he appears to be his usual indifferent self…
I can see, my dear brother, the scene does effect you.
I pull my katana out of the body lying at my feet it has impaled - Kusanagi didn’t cut only grass like its name ‘Grasscutter’. The more blood it spilled, the more beautiful it became as scarlet droplets decorated its black blade before seeping into the metal as if the blade drank from the blood it had shed. “Don’t you like it, brother? I think I have it quite exact to what you had once arranged for me.” The sword of snake, some had called it. Maybe that was true. Because the blade didn’t poison only the victim it cut but also the mind of the wielder to become absorbed of its marvelous sharpness.
The more it cut, the sharper it had become.
My finger traces its sharp edge in fascination. Oh, how I wish to just plunge this sword all the way through his still-beating heart, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of his blood - my own blood - on my skin. That is…
If someone like him does have a heart.
“…”
Two pairs of blood-red Sharingan eyes caught each other in the bleakest silence of an intense gaze. Two pairs of eyes…so much like each other. Two face structures…different in some details to distinguish yet agonizingly similar. Everything was so silent. Everything was so still as if unmoving that there was only the chill of night wind that carried the foul scent of blood to their nostrils.
Why don’t you say anything, brother? Why are you so silent? Do you not want me to achieve the goal of becoming like you - even surpassing you? These eyes of mine see nothing but red. All is red but you. You who stand there in stark contrast of the redness of my world…You who I cannot wait to see blending into this shade of chaos that stills my vision. Because… my dear brother, that way, I will not suffer seeing that face that haunts me non-stop anymore.
I thought you are waiting for this day, this challenge. You should be pleased, brother. Why are you so silent? Your indifference doesn’t disturb me, your presence doesn’t upset me as much as that little twinge of sadness - or was it remorse? - I have seen in those cold, unfeeling eyes of yours even for one brief moment. And yet you remain silent. Silent and unmoving. Only gazing at me, piercing me with those red, red eyes of yours.
Silence. Bleakest silence. The sheer silence could be deciphered as both a gift from heaven and the worst kind of thing on earth. For the latter was capable of shattering the state of calmness, slowly rotting one’s spirit - turning it from iron to rust - as it was overwhelming. And the latter case was nothing different even with a state of mind as far beyond sanity.
Just like every time between them, it was Sasuke who lost his calm first. His temper was soaring, his anger was scorching - searing at his own wounded soul. And as a mark of his betrayal, his thirst for power for the sake of hatred, the curse seal gleamed and spread from the nape of his neck where it had been marked, extending all over his snow-white skin. His released chakra flared threateningly as if responded to his burning anger.
“Uchiha Itachi, I will kill you.”
And then the battle started - the battle between blood and blood, brother against brother as the younger one’s kunai clashed with the older one’s katana in a blinding flash. The sky was dark and the moon still shone. One’s expression was pure hatred while the other was all unreadable. Did one ever know whatever going on in Uchiha Itachi’s head? No one knew…not until that last-but-not-last moment.
The brothers’ battle went among the solitary field of lifeless corpses. Metal against metal. Jutsu against jutsu. Time went on like days and nights, nights and days. It felt like eternity. Yet the night was still and the pale full moon was still glowing, casting its silver ray upon their last dance. A dance to the realm of death. One misstep and you were the one that fell.
And yet as they danced on and on, neither had yet made their mistake. They still waltzed there, on the dreadful battlefield with their captivating grace - the pride of the Uchiha Clan. The beautiful performance that was true beauty in the spectator’s eyes. The spectator whom the two combatants were too occupied to notice until it was too late.
Akasuna no Sasori, the master puppeteer, was watching the fight with his never-tiring eyes and with his intense observation for every movement of the two, appreciated this blood fight in its tragic aesthetic. Yet in his eyes, he knew for certain that this fight couldn’t last forever, for humans weren’t invulnerable but so frail that the cruelty of time could rot them. Sooner or later, one of those two would be tired, thus the end of the fight, the end of the beauty. And Sasori knew better than to just wait and let it end the way it was.
If the beauty was to age, to perish, he would be the one to end it before time and preserve the beauty everlastingly, even if it was just a shot in his memory. Because he wouldn’t have to remember anything that was the weakness of men.
With one slight movement of a finger, a life was given to the non-life. A bloody corpse once lying in peace bounced back with a crimson coated katana in its grip.
“And now, let’s close the curtain.”
Faster than its own self while living, the dead puppet charged forward with the blood-coated katana though which the edge was now dull; the tip was still as sharp as one fine spear.
The two brothers were still fighting, occupying themselves with eyes intensely locking on each other, trying to read and predict what move would be the next.
It was in this moment when Sasuke decided to strike that the silver sliver of the moonlight caught the sharp tip of the wielding-by-the-dead sword to glitter. And on its own accord, Itachi’s body moved.
Splash!
Blood. Blood again. It’s all red and red. Your blood is so warm against my skin. And your heart that I once thought was never there is now pulsing against my chest. You’re so warm…and so close.
Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump.
I could hear the sound of heartbeat beating. For once, I wonder if it’s your heartbeat or my own.
Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump.
Frantically it beats, faster and faster and now I know that it isn’t yours but my own.
Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump.
Your blood is seeping, your life is fleeting but it isn’t by this hand of my own, for Kusanagi has slipped from my grip the moment you flung yourself at me. You took the sword instead of me. You covered me with your own bloody life. Why? Brother, why?
My world of red is fading, blurring more and more as something as warm as your blood on my skin slides down my cool cheeks. And my heart is beating faster as I know it’s nothing but tears. Tears that I haven’t shed for so long.
Tears that I don’t want to shed for you.
“I always make you cry, don’t I, little brother?”
Blood trickles down the corners of your lips but I can see you’re smiling. Truly smiling. And I can’t stop the tears from coming more. I hate you for making me cry. I hate you for taking everything away from me…even your own life.
“I hate you, Itachi. Do you hear me? I hate you!”
And life is slowly fleeting. You’re slipping away from my grasp again. How much I chase, how far I’ve gone, you’re still out of my reach ‘til this very end. I cannot hate you more. Hate. Hate. Hate. Like you told me to. Hate. Hate. Hate. I hate you so much that I cannot let you go. Not like this. Not so easy like this.
Hurriedly but accurately, my hands form the seals - many, many different seals that these Sharingan eyes of mine have learnt to remember. Forbidden as it is, I won’t let you slip.
If I can’t kill you, you have to live to suffer.
If I still live, you will still live.
You will not die until I die.
You will bleed because I bleed.
But you will feel pain - both yours and mine.
Slowly but surely, the younger Uchiha descended his soft lips upon his brother’s blood-smeared ones, breathing into him one half of his life. The first forbidden kiss from the cursed forbidden jutsu. The completion of the attaching of the string.
“From now on, Uchiha Itachi, your life is mine.”
…………………………………………………………………………..…
“Looks like the curtain couldn’t be closed yet.”
The sole observer said to himself as thin lips formed into an amused smile. Now that he had watched the show, he was interested to see it ‘til the end. Once a string was attached, the puppeteer would play until the performance was over. And although he wasn’t the one holding the string himself, he wouldn’t waste his opportunity for this most twisted yet beautiful show.
But now that the play was started, the night was over. And as the cold full moon was shrouded by the veil of dark cloud, the shadow of Akasuna no Sasori also disappeared.
Next Chapter
Back to Naruto Fanfiction Index
Standard Disclaimers Apply
Summary: After so many pushes, Sasuke has finally tripped over the edge of sanity. Yet with his ambition slipping away before his own hand could ever fulfill, a forbidden jutsu is used, thus tying their lives together.
Warning: This fanfiction contains mature theme of dark incestuous yaoi, blood play, some violence and character with unstable mentality. If you find any of the contents disturbing, I suggest you leave this page immediately. You’ve been warned, so please don’t flame me about that.
Pairing: Itachi/Sasuke (Incest) There might be more as the story progresses.
Note: The text written in Italic is Sasuke’s POV.
I know I don’t have much time left. I know it’s only a matter of time before I lose myself, completely. I know what He wants. It’s so clear what he’s doing to me despite how many times I try to escape. Me and my sanity.
There’s so little of the old me left...so little of that thing so-called ‘sense of morality’. And now…all I can see is nothing…but the shade of... enticing red.
Prologue
Red, red, red. Reddest redness staining everywhere - my clothes, my hands, my hair, my face…and even on my lips where I sweep my tongue across, feeling the familiar coppery, bittersweet tang. A taste I’ve come to adore. How ironic.
I feel the corners of my lips twitch, slowly curving into their customary smirk - maybe that’s something that doesn’t change much - as I take my time marveling at the wonderful yet nostalgic sight I myself have created…
Many bodies lay scattered on the ground - all dead, all lifeless - drenched in their own pools of blood. Weapons had been drawn - most seen lying in splinter - shuriken had been used - still be seen embedded in some of the solid surfaces around the area - to kill, to protect themselves, whatever it was, their owner had failed. Above them, the cold full moon still shone brightly, illuminating the ruthless crime so obvious to the eyes of the beholder as if to mock those who had fallen.
Traces of blood went as far as an eye could see. Some who might have fled had never had the chance to. They had never succeeded; for it was clear in the rule of the ninja that one must held the respect for oneself, thus never beg in front of an enemy, especially one as cruel and heartless as a monster and one breaking the rule deserved nothing but most painful and merciless death. Because…
In that monster’s eyes, begging for your life was the worst crime of weakness and such weakling had better die than struggle with such pathetic life.
“You’re making quite a scene, aren’t you?”
I hear him say. And I can’t help but smirk even more, for as much as he appears to be his usual indifferent self…
I can see, my dear brother, the scene does effect you.
I pull my katana out of the body lying at my feet it has impaled - Kusanagi didn’t cut only grass like its name ‘Grasscutter’. The more blood it spilled, the more beautiful it became as scarlet droplets decorated its black blade before seeping into the metal as if the blade drank from the blood it had shed. “Don’t you like it, brother? I think I have it quite exact to what you had once arranged for me.” The sword of snake, some had called it. Maybe that was true. Because the blade didn’t poison only the victim it cut but also the mind of the wielder to become absorbed of its marvelous sharpness.
The more it cut, the sharper it had become.
My finger traces its sharp edge in fascination. Oh, how I wish to just plunge this sword all the way through his still-beating heart, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of his blood - my own blood - on my skin. That is…
If someone like him does have a heart.
“…”
Two pairs of blood-red Sharingan eyes caught each other in the bleakest silence of an intense gaze. Two pairs of eyes…so much like each other. Two face structures…different in some details to distinguish yet agonizingly similar. Everything was so silent. Everything was so still as if unmoving that there was only the chill of night wind that carried the foul scent of blood to their nostrils.
Why don’t you say anything, brother? Why are you so silent? Do you not want me to achieve the goal of becoming like you - even surpassing you? These eyes of mine see nothing but red. All is red but you. You who stand there in stark contrast of the redness of my world…You who I cannot wait to see blending into this shade of chaos that stills my vision. Because… my dear brother, that way, I will not suffer seeing that face that haunts me non-stop anymore.
I thought you are waiting for this day, this challenge. You should be pleased, brother. Why are you so silent? Your indifference doesn’t disturb me, your presence doesn’t upset me as much as that little twinge of sadness - or was it remorse? - I have seen in those cold, unfeeling eyes of yours even for one brief moment. And yet you remain silent. Silent and unmoving. Only gazing at me, piercing me with those red, red eyes of yours.
Silence. Bleakest silence. The sheer silence could be deciphered as both a gift from heaven and the worst kind of thing on earth. For the latter was capable of shattering the state of calmness, slowly rotting one’s spirit - turning it from iron to rust - as it was overwhelming. And the latter case was nothing different even with a state of mind as far beyond sanity.
Just like every time between them, it was Sasuke who lost his calm first. His temper was soaring, his anger was scorching - searing at his own wounded soul. And as a mark of his betrayal, his thirst for power for the sake of hatred, the curse seal gleamed and spread from the nape of his neck where it had been marked, extending all over his snow-white skin. His released chakra flared threateningly as if responded to his burning anger.
“Uchiha Itachi, I will kill you.”
And then the battle started - the battle between blood and blood, brother against brother as the younger one’s kunai clashed with the older one’s katana in a blinding flash. The sky was dark and the moon still shone. One’s expression was pure hatred while the other was all unreadable. Did one ever know whatever going on in Uchiha Itachi’s head? No one knew…not until that last-but-not-last moment.
The brothers’ battle went among the solitary field of lifeless corpses. Metal against metal. Jutsu against jutsu. Time went on like days and nights, nights and days. It felt like eternity. Yet the night was still and the pale full moon was still glowing, casting its silver ray upon their last dance. A dance to the realm of death. One misstep and you were the one that fell.
And yet as they danced on and on, neither had yet made their mistake. They still waltzed there, on the dreadful battlefield with their captivating grace - the pride of the Uchiha Clan. The beautiful performance that was true beauty in the spectator’s eyes. The spectator whom the two combatants were too occupied to notice until it was too late.
Akasuna no Sasori, the master puppeteer, was watching the fight with his never-tiring eyes and with his intense observation for every movement of the two, appreciated this blood fight in its tragic aesthetic. Yet in his eyes, he knew for certain that this fight couldn’t last forever, for humans weren’t invulnerable but so frail that the cruelty of time could rot them. Sooner or later, one of those two would be tired, thus the end of the fight, the end of the beauty. And Sasori knew better than to just wait and let it end the way it was.
If the beauty was to age, to perish, he would be the one to end it before time and preserve the beauty everlastingly, even if it was just a shot in his memory. Because he wouldn’t have to remember anything that was the weakness of men.
With one slight movement of a finger, a life was given to the non-life. A bloody corpse once lying in peace bounced back with a crimson coated katana in its grip.
“And now, let’s close the curtain.”
Faster than its own self while living, the dead puppet charged forward with the blood-coated katana though which the edge was now dull; the tip was still as sharp as one fine spear.
The two brothers were still fighting, occupying themselves with eyes intensely locking on each other, trying to read and predict what move would be the next.
It was in this moment when Sasuke decided to strike that the silver sliver of the moonlight caught the sharp tip of the wielding-by-the-dead sword to glitter. And on its own accord, Itachi’s body moved.
Splash!
Blood. Blood again. It’s all red and red. Your blood is so warm against my skin. And your heart that I once thought was never there is now pulsing against my chest. You’re so warm…and so close.
Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump.
I could hear the sound of heartbeat beating. For once, I wonder if it’s your heartbeat or my own.
Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump.
Frantically it beats, faster and faster and now I know that it isn’t yours but my own.
Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump.
Your blood is seeping, your life is fleeting but it isn’t by this hand of my own, for Kusanagi has slipped from my grip the moment you flung yourself at me. You took the sword instead of me. You covered me with your own bloody life. Why? Brother, why?
My world of red is fading, blurring more and more as something as warm as your blood on my skin slides down my cool cheeks. And my heart is beating faster as I know it’s nothing but tears. Tears that I haven’t shed for so long.
Tears that I don’t want to shed for you.
“I always make you cry, don’t I, little brother?”
Blood trickles down the corners of your lips but I can see you’re smiling. Truly smiling. And I can’t stop the tears from coming more. I hate you for making me cry. I hate you for taking everything away from me…even your own life.
“I hate you, Itachi. Do you hear me? I hate you!”
And life is slowly fleeting. You’re slipping away from my grasp again. How much I chase, how far I’ve gone, you’re still out of my reach ‘til this very end. I cannot hate you more. Hate. Hate. Hate. Like you told me to. Hate. Hate. Hate. I hate you so much that I cannot let you go. Not like this. Not so easy like this.
Hurriedly but accurately, my hands form the seals - many, many different seals that these Sharingan eyes of mine have learnt to remember. Forbidden as it is, I won’t let you slip.
If I can’t kill you, you have to live to suffer.
If I still live, you will still live.
You will not die until I die.
You will bleed because I bleed.
But you will feel pain - both yours and mine.
Slowly but surely, the younger Uchiha descended his soft lips upon his brother’s blood-smeared ones, breathing into him one half of his life. The first forbidden kiss from the cursed forbidden jutsu. The completion of the attaching of the string.
“From now on, Uchiha Itachi, your life is mine.”
…………………………………………………………………………..…
“Looks like the curtain couldn’t be closed yet.”
The sole observer said to himself as thin lips formed into an amused smile. Now that he had watched the show, he was interested to see it ‘til the end. Once a string was attached, the puppeteer would play until the performance was over. And although he wasn’t the one holding the string himself, he wouldn’t waste his opportunity for this most twisted yet beautiful show.
But now that the play was started, the night was over. And as the cold full moon was shrouded by the veil of dark cloud, the shadow of Akasuna no Sasori also disappeared.
Next Chapter
Back to Naruto Fanfiction Index