朱 [001] Uchiha Itachi || reality
[A stray hand seemed to brush against an idle PCD as it turned on with a flicker. It shows nothing but black hair against fair skin until a small incoherent murmur follows, the black curtains shift. A young face is exposed contorted into what seems a wishful and tragic expression to be rid of the nightmares behind those closed lids. If the dark blotches underneath those eyes aren't enough to call attention, then those strange facial lines on each side of the bridge of his nose should be. For several minutes, he seems to struggle until an exhale makes it clear the boy was struck free from his mental prison.
Lids slowly fumble open as crimson eyes stare directly at the strange and suspicious recording device before him. He does nothing but stare, tomoe slowly turning. A sixteen-year-old Uchiha Itachi was just waking. His voice sounded hoarse with fatigue.]
Death?
[He got no answer. Then again, he wasn't sure if he was expecting it. As if realizing something, the surprised look on his face melted into a frown. He began to shift once more, lifting himself up with his arms from the apparent floor the boy had been dropped off in only to realize it wasn't his wooden floor. He looked up at the cement ceiling, eying the light above in confusion. He ignored the thing resting beside him.]
Lids slowly fumble open as crimson eyes stare directly at the strange and suspicious recording device before him. He does nothing but stare, tomoe slowly turning. A sixteen-year-old Uchiha Itachi was just waking. His voice sounded hoarse with fatigue.]
Death?
[He got no answer. Then again, he wasn't sure if he was expecting it. As if realizing something, the surprised look on his face melted into a frown. He began to shift once more, lifting himself up with his arms from the apparent floor the boy had been dropped off in only to realize it wasn't his wooden floor. He looked up at the cement ceiling, eying the light above in confusion. He ignored the thing resting beside him.]