Sasuke glared at the horizon, eyes hard stones in his face.
Naruto was at his back, but he ignored the blonde's equally cold stare. He wasn't going to listen to the Host's garbled nonsense. He never did. The kyuubi had changed the boy over the years, and instead of the bold, happy brat that Sasuke remembered, Naruto was a husk. He was empty.
"You can't bring him back, you know."
Sasuke smirked, "At least I have someone to bring back."
Naruto sighed, "woop-de-doo. Want a cookie, O Great Avenger?"
"Yes. As a matter of fact, I do."
The forest was old, but Sasuke didn't feel any apprehension amongst the dead pines. He just felt the pull in his gut, the one he had felt since the day the blood was scrubbed from the walls of his home. It had been there for years, but now. It was like a hundred hooks were imbedded in him, and the largest was in his bellybutton. Tugging, pulling.
He wasn't going to give up like Naruto did.
Hokage this, Hokage that. It had been years, but the boy had come up with goose-egg in that time. He instead, broke down like a girl. Lost his sunshine because of how tough his life was. Sasuke would have hunted him down, just to laugh in his face. However, he had more important bugs to squish.
With a hiss, he had landed in the old ruins, the object of all his turmoil seated in a crumbling old throne, bored and looking a lot like an old aristocrat drinking tea at a hunting party. His legs were crossed at the ankles, and he was slouched in the chair as if he owned the world.
"Good afternoon, Sasuke."
Sasuke was running again. It was like a blur, but eventually, he managed to make out Konoha on the horizon. Karin's screaming was gone now, but Team Hebi was easy enough to shake off. He had employed them to back him up, not to follow him to the ends of the earth. Annoying woman. Annoying fish. Only Juugo did he feel anything close to regret at leaving behind. The big fellow was at least good at some things.
Sasuke shook his head, and hefted the deadweight on his shoulder to ease the ache.
The guards on the border of the village were mediocre, at best. He slipped y, unnoticed by the Jounin. For once, he actually applauded Orochimaru. The years Sasuke had spent sneaking away from the old creep had done its wonders. He shifted the weight on his shoulder to his arms, carrying the thing like a groom would carry a bride. The raven-haired boy almost laughed at the thought.
He was walking his old route, the way he walked home from the academy every day. bitterly, he wondered if things could have been different. If Itachi hadn't ended them so utterly.
He would have walked home, and Itachi would have been waiting for him. ANBU mask on his lap, sword at his side as he sat on the wooden porch. Smiling, older, and Sasuke would have been older too. The family was a little hazy in his head; they didn't matter as much to him as his brother did back then. But now? He would have done anything to have someone to call Kin other than a murderer.
Sasuke smiled. He was a liar.
He was still morbidly happy to call Itachi 'brother.'
He stepped up onto the old porch, bleached white with the sun and no caretaker, slid the old door open with a foot, and sauntered into the dead house as if he owned it. He supposed, with no other claimant to the Uchiha estates, he kind of did. The dust that caked the floor didn't hinder him, or his imagination. He still saw the stains.
He dumped the deadweight on the floor where he found Itachi standing over his parents. The deadweight coughed, and struggled against his binds. He wriggled away from Sasuke, still crouched and staring at his older brother. Itachi finally woke up.
"Why are we here?"
Sasuke smiled, and it almost looked sincere.
"I wanted to come home, brother."
Itachi felt the cold, hard stone in his guts. Finally. He had pushed Sasuke over the edge. "Why are we here?" his eyes angled, but he couldn't grasp the sharingan, let alone Ameratsu or the Mangekyo.
"Don't bother. I drugged you up. After eating a few of Sakura's herbs, I figured out what would suppress a bloodline limit."
"Clever."
"Not really."
"Why are we here, Sasuke?"
The boy seemed to perk at the name, eyes returning from the dead, glazed effect they had mere moments ago. Itachi wriggled so he was sitting up, legs crossed. Sasuke was still crouched with his hands draped over either knee. He smiled, but it just made Itachi's guts squirm. "We are here because I'm not a loser like Naruto."
Itachi quirked an eyebrow.
Sasuke smiled wider, "I always said I'd bring you back here. It used to be so I could make you drown in all of the shit you left me with. I looked up to you, you know that," a hand twitched, and Itachi's eyes were drawn to it. Sasuke was playing with a kunai. "I always said I would make you sit and endure everything you made me live through. Imagine all the looks I got. Especially from the kids. I told them everything about you. How amazing you were, how I had the best brother."
The smile faltered.
"Then you fucked up."
Itachi let out a small chuckle. That's what they were calling it? A fuck up? He broke out into a grin, and Sasuke returned it. Then the crunch. Itachi hissed, trying to sit back up from where he was sprawled across the old wooden floor. The same floor that he had his father kneel on, begging for his life. Sasuke sat on his chest, kunai resting on his older brother's mouth.
"How could you do that to me?"
Itachi was silent.
"We always said we would run away. Together."
Itachi's face tightened.
"We were brothers."
Itachi's eyes bled sharingan. Sasuke didn't bother to try and stop him, even when he was flat out on the old Uchiha living room floor. Even when Itachi was the one sitting on him, just like he used to when he won the sparring fights they had as children. The older Uchiha picked the kunai from an unresponsive Sasuke's hand, watching the boy's face carefully as he did.
"We are brothers, Sasuke."
The boy's face crumbled.
"One day, you will understand."
The boy broke down.
"One day, you'll thank me for everything."
The brother left.
"One day, you'll know."
I'll follow you and make a heaven out of hell, and I'll die by your hand which I love so well.
- William Shakespeare