Itachi ЖЖ 003

[seeing_only_red]

Who: Uchiha Itachi, Hatake Kakashi, Namikaze Minato
Where: Espoir
Style: Third
Status: Closed. Backdated to March 15th, following this log, and directly after this dream. Whatever Itachi was lying on was hard and smooth--sturdy and flat. The floor. Why was he on the floor

Comments

[ura_no_ura]

As if he was still the same boy you remember from all those years ago -- the one who had grown up too young, the one who was just like you, who trusted in you, over everyone else, when there was no trust in a world so cruel. This was a world forged out of blood, out of lives crumbling under too-young hands that were not hands, but tools wielded by weapons with no face, no name, except for ones whispered in secret in the midst of night.

As though he was the Itachi who Kakashi once knew -- the Itachi who'd looked up at him with dark, quiet eyes; who never complained, never asked why; who he'd left standing out in the rain the night before his eyes bled permanently red. (And Kakashi'd asked for years if it had been his fault, some kind of mistake -- if he hadn't seen because he didn't properly look; if he hadn't seen because he didn't want to look.)

Kakashi's fingers slightly shook as they pulled tight another bandage, carefully and tenderly easing it around the circumference of Itachi's thin wrist.

He remembered a boy with genius loyalty hewed into his spine -- loyalty that was too deep, too thick, too dangerous at times. Loyalty that never asked questions, that never attempted to redistribute lines between right and wrong, because it was never his place to do that -- to question the law, the foundation, the root of Konoha, when he was only a single leaf that existed solely for the sake of the tree -- a leaf that loved its branch and its tree so much it would sacrifice everything, and did. He shouldered the weight of the village and his clan, a burden so great Kakashi was amazed Itachi's spine didn't snap -- but his loyalty was too thick, too deep, too dangerous.

Even here, where things were so different; here, where life was no longer life, Itachi's loyalty still stayed strong. Still burned hot.

[seeing_only_red]

Too hot.

Itachi had not realized how cold he was until he registered the heat of the touch on his arm, but he did not focus on it. Instead he kept his attention on the person who was expertly wrapping the ragged gashes he knew encircled his wrists--as if it was something he did everyday. The silver head of hair was tilted toward from him, falling over Kakashi's face, so that Itachi was unable to see the one uncovered eye.

He was not sure if the tremble he felt go through the hands tending to him was real or just his own body's spasms from the chill of laying on the cold floor.

It still was not making sense to him. Why Kakashi would be kneeling next to him on the dusty, stone floor of this small cottage, cleaning his wounds, as if there was nothing strange about it, considering the circumstances. Or why he would so strategically hide his face, as if he knew that Itachi would awaken and wanted to avoid looking him in the eye. Sharingan Kakashi was not one to behave with such insecurity--only there had been a time when it would not have been too surreal to see Kakashi have doubts and willingly bear them to him--

But that was a long time ago. Times have changed--lines have been drawn that once upon a time neither would ever have thought could have existed. As if it was a different lifetime altogether. Maybe it was.

But in this here and now, Kakashi was his enemy...but his actions were not that of a shinobi torturing a traitor. They were too familiar, too remniscent of an era that died on the streets of a district splattered with blood.

He needed to assess the situation. He needed to get Kakashi to talk, even if it was only because he thought Itachi no longer a threat. It would still be enough.

"Is this another form of "interrogation?""

[ura_no_ura]

Kakashi tensed as his fingers stilled against Itachi's pulse, then a slow sigh eased out past his lips, one that was hollow and filled with the silence of too much regret and loss.

It would've been easier if Itachi had allowed the silence to fill the space between them, the way he had years ago, when silence spoke louder than anything else; when it had been, at times, the only sound. But that silence had been of nights that sometimes smelled like too much sweat and blood, but other times were calm, mellow with a humid warmth, lying in sweet-meadowed fields on balmy summer nights when the sky stretched wide, both dark and bright above; or watching the rain fall quietly behind panes of glass.

It was the kind of silence that was gentle, and at times warm. Not the silence that was so cold, shrouded in secrecy, and reeking of too much death.

"There isn't any point in interrogating someone who's always been loyal to Konoha," he finally said, unable to meet Itachi's gaze.

[seeing_only_red]

Itachi's eyes widened--only slightly, barely perceptible--a reaction more to Kakashi's refusal to look at him than his words. The silence descended on them once more and it was even more oppressive than before. It was eating away at him...poking and prodding for a reaction--shock, confusion, fear, paranoia--any response, but there was nothing. A void had opened up inside of him, and all of his emotions had been swallowed by it. He could not feel anything when there was nothing there for him to feel.

The emotional burnout left him with only his thoughts, and no idea how to proceed. His only cue could be taken from Kakashi's own reaction, the downturned eyes and the soft demeanor.

Someone who's always been loyal to Konoha...?

His internal thoughts trailed off as the realization of what that statement could mean came to him. His eyes cut to an observing, calculating stare, taking in Kakashi's posture, his soft tone of voice, and the familiar way he ran his fingers over Itachi's bandaged arm. There was so much history in his actions that Itachi couldn't help but be reminded of back when they had been teammates--that other lifetime when they had been so alike they could have been reflections, two like minds within the same broken brotherhood of blood.

It was far too familiar, too much like back before that night when Kakashi had still believed--

"You know."

[ura_no_ura]

Silence stretched out between them again, and it was the kind that was thick with tension.

"...we all do," Kakashi said quietly, his eye finally moving to take in the sight of a man who'd grown up from a boy he'd once believed in so much; a boy, who had died eight years ago on that hot summer night, that night when the leaf severed its branch from the tree, in a collection of piled-high bodies that all bore the same family name and eyes as the boy who lived on as Kakashi's left eye. He'd failed Obito again, and Itachi too, failed to see what he should've saw, but lacked the vision to see.

And for the eight years that passed after that, he continued to fail -- living so blindly, believing without questioning, even when the "truth" made no sense -- the story of a leaf that destroyed an entire branch.

[seeing_only_red]

That knowledge alone was almost enough to break him--

Had this hollow space inside of him not been so vast that there was room for nothing else. Itachi was too drained, too numb to feel more than one emotion at a time--the void too all consuming--and even then resignation seemed to be the only feeling he could muster the strength to endure.

Itachi allowed his eyes to fall shut again, a small, tired sigh escaping from his lips before he could stop it. There would no have been a point to hiding it anyway--not with Kakashi. How they had found out? Had Kakashi using his Sharingan to delve into his mind?

Did it even matter anymore?

"...no one was supposed to."

[ura_no_ura]

But if life were composed of how things were supposed to be, there never would've been any horrible truth to cover up. People would live these pre-determined lives, the kind of thing read in storybooks, set in peaceful villages that never knew strife, never knew war, never knew tragic death.

Boys wouldn't be born on battlefields, wielding weapons before they could write, killing men ten times their size. They would play in mud on rainy days and games of tag on sunny ones. Vanilla ice cream would melt on cones on lazy summer days. The smell of blood and dirt wouldn't be a familiar scent. Chasing butterflies in fields or kittens across yards, falling down and getting back up -- these were the things that were supposed to be, the kind of reality that was more a fantasy in the world they lived and died in.

No one was supposed to know, but Kakashi couldn't help wish that it wasn't like that at all; that the truth hadn't been revealed too late for it to have really mattered. His fingers moved carefully as they finished bandaging Itachi's other wrist, before moving to find a soldier pill that would replenish Itachi's drained chakra reserves. He pushed the pill past the younger man's lips and into his mouth.

"It's too late for that."

[seeing_only_red]

Itachi swallowed the pill, which was hard, because his throat was dry and soldier pills were never meant to have a pleasant taste--unless one was an Akimichi--but he managed to get it down, his eyes turning away from Kakashi to stare at the white gauze against his pale skin. There was not much contrast between the two. He took some time to collect his thoughts and find what could be said in such a situation as this. Nothing he thought of would suffice.

His arm felt so warm in comparison to how the rest of his body froze and Itachi wondered with an idle indifference if this was simply because he was laid out on a cold, stone floor, or a byproduct of the icy blanket that wrapped his emotions in a stranglehold. Was this what being dead would feel like? Wasn't he supposed to be dead already? He was supposed to have died fighting Sasuke--and with his death, his brother would be safe, a hero for avenging his clan and killing the enemy of his village.

It seemed that nothing went as planned. And now, if Kakashi knew the Truth, did that mean--

"So Sasuke knows..." His teeth clenched slightly, but his jaw didn't even twitch--was this anger? fear? self-recrimination? "...he knows the truth about our clan."

[ura_no_ura]

And it made too much sense that this was what Itachi feared the most.

His loyalty, his love, was always too thick, and far too dangerous.

For years people wondered and whispered about why Sasuke had been the only one left; the only one spared from the unmerciful, indiscriminate hand of a leaf that had gone awry and killed every member of his clan. Kakashi had wondered too, why Sasuke hadn't also been killed -- unless Itachi had left him alive with the intent of testing him. Of giving him the chance to avenge the rest of his family.

But if Itachi meant to kill indiscriminately, that conclusion didn't make sense. Even if it was the same conclusion Sasuke had drawn, that ultimately led to the boy's death.

"You'll have to ask him that yourself," Kakashi said quietly, wondering just how Sasuke would handle the truth -- it was Konoha that killed his family.

[seeing_only_red]

There was a brief flare of emotion--a spark that could have fanned itself into a full flame and warmed his body--but the cold smothered it before it could grow.

Itachi knew he should have felt more concerned--was almost certain that he had for some split second of time--but it was as if he was now incapable for feeling much of anything. Which should have horrified him--never before had he lost his sense of self and view of the world, but it had been years since he allowed himself to feel as much as he had in those moments when he had believe that Sasuke was about to--

Just the thought of what could have been--but it had not been Sasuke, would never be Sasuke while Itachi still had power in his body, in his eyes, to fight--was enough to stoke the doused flames once more.

It seemed Sasuke would always be his weakness.

And what could he say to his younger brother if he faced him now that the Truth was known and Itachi could no longer twist and manipulate the situation to keep him blind to it--to shield him from it?

Could he even look his brother in the face?

...do I deserve to?

"It's best that I do not." He sighed once more, letting his head fall back against the chilled stone. "It seems I have stolen his family from him for a second time."

[ura_no_ura]

But things had to happen for a reason, even if the reason made no sense.

No one was supposed to know the truth, but now everyone did. There had to be a reason for that.

Kakashi's demeanor slightly hardened at the myopic cynicism in Itachi's words -- it seemed too fatalistic, too resigned to a fate so cruel it even followed him to this world suspended between life and death. A world that was neither living nor dead.

"You're the only family he has left."

[seeing_only_red]

Hearing Kakashi make such a statement--sounding so sure of it--made Itachi snort in derision, a small self-deprecating smirk spreading across his tired face.

"I have not been his family for a long time."

[ura_no_ura]

Or so Itachi liked to tell himself. Maybe it was easier to believe a lie.

Kakashi's expression didn't change -- it remained level, steady, unreadable. "You would've killed him too, if that were really the case."

[seeing_only_red]

Could Kakashi truly believe that? Did he really believe that by letting Sasuke live, Itachi had shown how much he had cared for him? It would never be so simple.

"Killing the rest of my family was merciful. What I did to Sasuke was not."

[ura_no_ura]

It wasn't mercy that led to the Uchiha clan's demise, but loyalty that only wavered when confronted with the face of his younger brother.

Kakashi believed it wasn't a matter of choice for Itachi. "You couldn't kill him."

[seeing_only_red]

No, Itachi had not been able to kill his brother and it was a weakness he would have to live with like a brand upon his heart.

"Had I truly been his big brother I would have. I left him alive out of my own selfishness."