Itachi didn't know much about laughter. Sure, he could understand the function; that was easy. All it was was the epiglottis constricting the larynx, usually in responce to laughter or stress, simple enough. But what was the purpose? Social politeness? It seemed a bit empty, and overall, shallow, to fake laughter for the sake of kindness. Pointless, and frowned upon by the young teen.
Shisui joked often how he believed Itachi suffered aphonogelia (Itachi wasn't amused by this), and would've believed it true, if it weren't from the day Shisui heard Itachi laugh for the first time. Before then, Itachi offered a polite smile when treated to something he found remotely humorous, be it a weak enemy or a hilarious antic by his adorable younger brother, but never outright laughter. He never even laughed as an infant, which Shisui remembered well. In fact, Itachi didn't do much as an infant, to the knowledge of his mother and father. He, on the other hand, had heard Itachi's first words (Sh'ui on the first try. Three months.), witnessed Itachi's first steps (Block had rolled away. Itachi hoisted himself up onto the nearest thing he could find and wobbled his way over to it. Four.), and smiled as Itachi learned to read (Romeo and Juliet. "Wherefore art th-..thou...Rom-e-o. How does a five-month-old comprehend this?). Shisui asked if his "Momma or Daddy" knew about this. Itachi cringed at the latter and shook his head at the former.
"'t's too soon to start bein' expected of," he mumbled sadly.
Shisui furrowed his brows at this, worry panging his heart. "But you're a genius! Don't you understand that?"
Itachi coughed harshly, then looked away and said with remorse, "Genius arn't 'nderstood."
"I understand you."
Itachi glanced at him, then looked down to his tiny, fumbling fingers, and picked up a book, turning to the first page.
But Itachi's first laugh wasn't until he was seven years old.
It hadn't been a good day. His mother and father were away on a mission, and Itachi hadn't come to school. Shisui, being the paranoid older-brother figure he was, had ventured to Itachi's house that afternoon to ask his wherabouts. He found Itachi curled up with a book in his hands, pressed so close to the print, his face was hidden.
"Itachi?" he asked cautiously, when the child's head shot up.
"Jeoliga!" he screamed. "Non voglio vedere te, lascia!"
"Itachi, I can't understand you," the fourteen-year-old pleaded, "Please, speak in-"
"OF COURSE NOT!" Itachi pressed up against the wall defensively, first holding out the book so the print faced Shisui, then chucking the book as hard as he possibly could at Shisui, who caught it, glancing down to read the title:
Psychology: What is Wrong with Me?
"PEOPLE DON'T UNDERSTAND GENIUSES BECAUSE THEY'RE ALL FUCKING INSANE!"
Shisui flinched, "Itachi, what the Hell are you-..." His eyes widened, hands dropping to his sides, book falling from them in disbelief. "You remember that?"
"Of course I do!" Itachi laughed, aloud ("You were five months old!"), a harsh bark of a laugh, paradoxical and ironic. "I'm a fucking. Genius."
He soothed each word out with a venemous tongue, drawn out with a dark edge as his hand moved to scratch at bloodied marks on his wrist. Shisui's eyes naturally followed the sudden movement, and he almost, almost screamed. Instead, he grabbed Itachi's wrist and wrapped the nearest thing he could find-a scarf-around the fresh wounds.
"Itachi..." Shisui sobbed out when Itachi balked, trying to escape further into the wall, as if willing every cell in his body to absorb somehow into the plaster. Itachi wasn't that smart, right?
Right?
So instead, he clung to the struggling child as he swung and lashed out at Shisui, clawing and pulling at clothes and hair and swearing and, unmistakably, laughing, until he passed out cold in Shisui's arms, limp, and free for Shisui to sob into Itachi's long tresses and hold his wrist until the bleeding stopped.
But, somehow, Itachi didn't remember that. Instead, he simply shrugged and assured the worried teen, "You must've had a nightmare."
But when it came to the origin of the scars, Itachi wasn't so sure.
But that was the past, Shisui resolved silently, closing the book that Itachi had read all those years ago, back when he was just seven. He chuckled, laying it down beside himself and leaning back against the headboard, allowing the nostalgia to overtake him. He sighed in content, in gratitude that he got to watch Itachi grow up over those years. He was so much more open, like a book, but encrypted. A foreign language that Shisui could not quite understand enough to translate, but just enough to grasp the concept. He couldn't explain Itachi to anybody else, instead knowing only enough for he himself to understand the way that the young prodigy worked. Maybe one day Itachi could teach Shisui his secretive language that he built from the basis of mankind's original lingo. Maybe he was even smart enough to teach Shisui? Who was to say?
His laughter was no longer a sacred rarity, bitter and cold and undeniably paradoxical. It was still an uncommon occurance, instead opting for a silent chuckle noticed only with a shift of his shoulders, but was now honeyed and warm and painfully beautiful. He was painfully beautiful, capturing both hearts and envious gazes, his crow-colored locks attracting jealous stares, his quiet smile enrapturing everyone who saw it. Why he had chosen Shisui, Shisui would never know. Could never tell. Maybe Itachi found him beautiful as well? As smart and worthy to love somebody like him? Honestly...?
...The thought almost made Shisui laugh.
-o-
A/N: Another long-ago written one-shot. I like Run a little bit more than this one, honestly. Run is short and sweet. This one is pretty short, too, but was a bit more spontaneous. I actually wrote it after reading about Paradoxical Laughter. I realized that kinda hit home (You have no idea how much I have to fake laughter in my life), and brought to my mind the infamous crow-haired genius himself immediatly. So this blossomed on the computer screen.
By the way, when he starts speaking in another language up at the top, here's the meanings: (Sorry for my horrible Korean/Italian)
Jeoliga: Go away! (Korean)
Non voglio vedere te, lascia: I don't want to see you here, leave! (Italian)
-_-" I need to get better with foreign language. My Latin teacher was upset because I was "Modernizing" Latin...it's actually in One of Us, One of Them, One of You. When Konan says "Meum est Konan," She's actually saying, like, "Mine's Konan." As in, her name. But I used it anyways~ He actually found it funny after a while, and we started parodizing it a bit. A little disrespectful, but it was funny to yell "Hey, girl!" in Latin. "Ehu, Puella!" XD
So yeah. Enjoy~
(BTW, I do support that genius always has a little bit of insanity behind it. Mom and Dad have called me a genius since I was little. Only Mom has also called me insane.)
And review! I need the critiques and baby Itachi appreciates it even more. Do it for baby Itachi! Do it! Do it! :D