i think i can. i think i can. i think i can.
Okay, almost there. I'll try to get the rest of this up by tonight. Because I really want to, but I'll see how it goes.
But for now, in an effort to push myself, here's a scene between a young Sasuke and Itachi. Looking over it, it almost seems a bit...far-fetched? If I can say that. A little stiff, too. I like the initial feel, but I'm not sure if the whole thing's too much at once or not enough. Or maybe I'm just trying too hard. Because while I hope it does help establish the relationship Sasuke used to have with Itachi in my headcanon, I'm also using it to build a parallel to Sasuke's relationship with Naruto. Except now I'm kind of wanting to rush just to get to the good part. The end.
And yes, there is a Tokyo Babylon reference in there--thank you, CLAMP.
The last time someone gave you a flower was on the last day you remember watching the cherry blossoms bloom with Itachi. It used to be the two of you on those days during the spring you spent together, long before you deemed yourself too old to be treated like the child Itachi ceased to be when he passed the Chuunin Exam.
Waking amongst the trees in the Uchiha district, he’d carry you on his back, let you indulge in a dangerous pastime you grew far too comfortable sharing with him. You made the ungainly habit of falling asleep beside him underneath whichever tree he’d let you choose. He was a solid presence while you slept. Immovable sat against the trunk of the tree, he let you sleep until late in the afternoon then wake you with a gentle prod and the soft call of your name.
But he’d always kneel beside you, allowed you to climb on his back and lifted you above the cherry blossoms falling around you when it was time to go home.
“It’s said that all cherry blossoms are initially a pure white,” he said that day, as he began to make the long trek across the Uchiha district.
Surprised coloured your face. “All of them. Really?”
“Do you know what makes the cherry blossoms so beautiful?”
He paused underneath a particular tree, where only a handful of flowers remained. As one of them began to fall, he held out his hand to catch it, trapped inside his palm a flower he would later give to you.
You shook your head, clutching his shirt and muffling a yawn against his shoulder.
With his arms supporting your legs, gently, he adjusted your weight on his back. “It’s told that dead bodies are buried beneath the trees, and it’s the blood tinting the white that gives the cherry blossoms their beauty.”
Your arm shaky tightened around his neck. “...is it true?”
“Only if you believe it’s true.”
“What about you then?” you whispered, glancing at the ground littered with pale, pink petals already beginning to shrivel. “Do you think it’s real?”
He didn’t answer for a moment, instead continuing on the dirt path leading you home. When he spoke, though, there was a slight rise to the corners of his mouth, and the lines around his eyes crinkled. “The only way it matters is if you believe it to be real.”
“I’ll believe it’s real if you do,” you said, already decided to change your mind if Itachi said he didn't believe it, because then was a time when you were a child foolish enough to be so impressionable.
“Regardless of my beliefs or those of others, what you should really ask yourself, little brother, is whether the answer you want lies in whatever your own beliefs allow your perception of reality to be.”
But for now, in an effort to push myself, here's a scene between a young Sasuke and Itachi. Looking over it, it almost seems a bit...far-fetched? If I can say that. A little stiff, too. I like the initial feel, but I'm not sure if the whole thing's too much at once or not enough. Or maybe I'm just trying too hard. Because while I hope it does help establish the relationship Sasuke used to have with Itachi in my headcanon, I'm also using it to build a parallel to Sasuke's relationship with Naruto. Except now I'm kind of wanting to rush just to get to the good part. The end.
And yes, there is a Tokyo Babylon reference in there--thank you, CLAMP.
The last time someone gave you a flower was on the last day you remember watching the cherry blossoms bloom with Itachi. It used to be the two of you on those days during the spring you spent together, long before you deemed yourself too old to be treated like the child Itachi ceased to be when he passed the Chuunin Exam.
Waking amongst the trees in the Uchiha district, he’d carry you on his back, let you indulge in a dangerous pastime you grew far too comfortable sharing with him. You made the ungainly habit of falling asleep beside him underneath whichever tree he’d let you choose. He was a solid presence while you slept. Immovable sat against the trunk of the tree, he let you sleep until late in the afternoon then wake you with a gentle prod and the soft call of your name.
But he’d always kneel beside you, allowed you to climb on his back and lifted you above the cherry blossoms falling around you when it was time to go home.
“It’s said that all cherry blossoms are initially a pure white,” he said that day, as he began to make the long trek across the Uchiha district.
Surprised coloured your face. “All of them. Really?”
“Do you know what makes the cherry blossoms so beautiful?”
He paused underneath a particular tree, where only a handful of flowers remained. As one of them began to fall, he held out his hand to catch it, trapped inside his palm a flower he would later give to you.
You shook your head, clutching his shirt and muffling a yawn against his shoulder.
With his arms supporting your legs, gently, he adjusted your weight on his back. “It’s told that dead bodies are buried beneath the trees, and it’s the blood tinting the white that gives the cherry blossoms their beauty.”
Your arm shaky tightened around his neck. “...is it true?”
“Only if you believe it’s true.”
“What about you then?” you whispered, glancing at the ground littered with pale, pink petals already beginning to shrivel. “Do you think it’s real?”
He didn’t answer for a moment, instead continuing on the dirt path leading you home. When he spoke, though, there was a slight rise to the corners of his mouth, and the lines around his eyes crinkled. “The only way it matters is if you believe it to be real.”
“I’ll believe it’s real if you do,” you said, already decided to change your mind if Itachi said he didn't believe it, because then was a time when you were a child foolish enough to be so impressionable.
“Regardless of my beliefs or those of others, what you should really ask yourself, little brother, is whether the answer you want lies in whatever your own beliefs allow your perception of reality to be.”