[WoD drabble]
propinquity \pruh-PING-kwih-tee\, noun:
1. Nearness in place; proximity.
2. Nearness in time.
3. Nearness of relation; kinship.
The likeness is uncanny; a perfect reflection of harsh, colliding lines melding together into an expression of anger like the grinding movements of great mountains in conflict.
Itachi thinks they would be twins, if not for the madness that alights behind the red of Sasuke's Sharingan. It's the same insanity he has seen so many times before, the curse which has decimated their mighty clan to three. Sasuke is too bent on revenge to see the illusion before his eyes. He has not acquired the Mangekyo.
Despite their propinquity of blood, Itachi has miscalculated.
Memory flares to life another such miscalculation, locked beneath the cellar of river's silence.
He can almost feel the red of water lapping up his wrist as Sasuke lunges forward, sword raised. The hiss of steel as it descends is the muffled gurgle of futile struggle as his hands clench tightly around tender, yielding throat, holding fast. Finger nails rake against flesh as the blade claws a trench and red drips along the reflective surface of metal. Nagano River is silent once more.
Sasuke's eyes are clear and reflective. Despite their propinquity of blood, his eyes do not water with the red of kinship.
"I cannot help but notice, little brother, that you do not have same eyes as I do."
Sasuke glares, fist clenching. "I'll defeat you my own way."
There is madness in Sasuke's eyes, and it's the first time Itachi supposes that perhaps this madness is a reflection of his own.
Fin.
1. Nearness in place; proximity.
2. Nearness in time.
3. Nearness of relation; kinship.
The likeness is uncanny; a perfect reflection of harsh, colliding lines melding together into an expression of anger like the grinding movements of great mountains in conflict.
Itachi thinks they would be twins, if not for the madness that alights behind the red of Sasuke's Sharingan. It's the same insanity he has seen so many times before, the curse which has decimated their mighty clan to three. Sasuke is too bent on revenge to see the illusion before his eyes. He has not acquired the Mangekyo.
Despite their propinquity of blood, Itachi has miscalculated.
Memory flares to life another such miscalculation, locked beneath the cellar of river's silence.
He can almost feel the red of water lapping up his wrist as Sasuke lunges forward, sword raised. The hiss of steel as it descends is the muffled gurgle of futile struggle as his hands clench tightly around tender, yielding throat, holding fast. Finger nails rake against flesh as the blade claws a trench and red drips along the reflective surface of metal. Nagano River is silent once more.
Sasuke's eyes are clear and reflective. Despite their propinquity of blood, his eyes do not water with the red of kinship.
"I cannot help but notice, little brother, that you do not have same eyes as I do."
Sasuke glares, fist clenching. "I'll defeat you my own way."
There is madness in Sasuke's eyes, and it's the first time Itachi supposes that perhaps this madness is a reflection of his own.
Fin.