Song playing at the moment:
A bid Farewell Killswitch Engage
Italics= Supposed words of wisdom. Usually italics are found at the very beginning and end of the story.
Underlined words= What Itachi's doing.
Please forgive any errors or grammar mistakes in this, I'm horrible at proof-reading/editing, but I did reread through it so I can say that I tried:P
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Memories.
They consist of happy times, sad times, lonely times, and times of when you had no idea who you actually were.
They stick to your heart and the back of your mind like glue, they come alive at night in your dreams, reminding you of your past.
But sometimes, those Memories fail to come at us. Its as if something is blocking them. We try hard to figure out how to get them back, only to forget.
Drip..
Drip...
Drip...
The memories they call!
Four years old, his lips tilted into a saddened smile, the kyubi attacked. He was sitting outside his home, legs crossed, holding his two month old brother. He clearly remembered the foul, absurd power that polluted the Uchiha Clan's grounds.
He remembered his father's voice echoing over the grounds, ushering small children and small amount of civilians into one of the clan's underground safe houses.
[The now older man hung his cloak up on one of the clothing hooks on the wall. Slowly he made his way to the bed, his eyes going from bleeding red to a milky looking black. His eyelids fluttered shut as the bed took in his weight, though the memories didn't disappear].
Six years old, he cringed, the talk of training him for clan purposes started. He was enrolled in the academy and he for some reason the lessons came easy to him. When he showed his grades to his father, he was proud. And seeing his father's face glow like that, it made him feel happy. That he was doing something right...and he continued.
Eight years old, he sighed, he managed to gain the sharingan. He was barely able to see his father's movements, the next they were a bit clearer and he managed to avoid the palm thrust aimed at his stomach. Again, his father was proud, especially when he looked up at his eldest son and saw the spinning one tomoe eyes of the sharingan.
His father seemed to demand more from him, his father's attention was always on him, he always seemed to forget that he had a second son. The small child will always look at his father, a far away look in his eye and an expression a small three year old shouldn't have on their face, though that expression was always swept away by his mother, with her hugs, her sweet words, and special kisses.
Ten years old, his eyes fluttered open, he was a genin, just about to take the chunin exams. He was small for a ten year old, but that didn't seem to stop him. He was a growing boy, his mind set and skills were growing, though at the rate he was going its as if he were a sponge observing everything and learning from it.
Like a true ninja he could easily hide his emotions, though he would let himself break sometimes to try and be a child, like the rest of the children he's age, but it was so hard. They thought differently than he did, they acted differently than he did...their hands weren't stained in blood...his were.
He remembered crying that night when he had found out, he remembered his father's expression when he found him outside by the koi pond crying. He was scolded for showing such emotions, that as a ninja he shouldn't show things like that...his father told him that he was a tool...just to be used...and that hurt him.
Bright charcoal eyes gazed into a similar pair, except their light was long gone. He remembered his mind screaming 'liar', but he kept it to himself. Instead he nodded at his father, the sadness on his creeping away, replaced by a mask of nothing.
He remembered his father's eyes giving him a questioning look, but he shrugged it off, put a hand on his shoulder and guided him to his room. He didn't bother tucking in his son, just leaving him with a 'good night' and walking off to his room to talk to his wife.
Bright charcoal eyes...bright...but blank lingered on his father's back for awhile before turning away and going into his room.
[In his mind he pictured each of these moments perfectly and with each moment that went by his mind's eye, a sick, twisted feeling began curling in his gut. Telling him to stop, to forget remembering. He couldn't though...his life seemed to revolve only around those moments now...it was sad.]
Twelve years old, a forlorn feeling swept over his body, chilling him, he was a jounin, he didn't see his family as often as he used too, which he was glad for. They were forcing themselves on him and he was growing annoyed. Sure the clan came first, but the thing that really came first, was the Hokage and no one else. He was a ninja, he was being used by both the Hokage and his family. He didn't care anymore though, or so it seemed.
Around anyone he was quiet, his facial expressions didn't change, he didn't have much to say, it was like he was a wall of some sort. But what can he say? To his clan members, to the people that worked along with him, it just seemed weird, awkward even to just have a somewhat normal conversation.
Thirteen years old, …..., there was nothing to be said. He managed to be part of anbu and even became an anbu captain. What mind hadn't he lost? What loyalty hadn't he forgotten?
Of course he knew a couple cracks and dents was part of his mind scape, but it was nothing, as long as the people he cared for were safe was all. Then that one night, when the Hokage had called him in it was dark, both the sky and his heart.
[He closed his eyes as the moments of that meeting swirled in his mind and what happened weeks after it. He remembered his little brother's face, filled with horror and fright. It made him feel sick, the acidic taste of bile was present in his throat but he swallowed the feeling down.
Even 5 years later, his brother's face was still filled with horror and fright, though this time hatred filled his eyes, he smiled at that. At least his brother still listened to him even after that time, still his brother strives to be more powerful than him, but only this time it wasn't to show his father that he was as good as his brother, no this time it was to prove he was better than him...and to kill him to put at ease the souls of the dead clan...at least that's what Itachi told himself.
He had no idea what to think of his brother's way of gaining things...it was horrible, sick, and twisted. He sat up quickly, that thought still circling his head. He jumped up and rushed to the restroom, he only managed to get as far as the sink and he threw up what little contents he had in his stomach. He wiped away the trail of saliva that escape his mouth and let out a shuddered breath as he looked at his hand, which happened to have some blood on it.
He looked up at the mirror, only to barely be able to see his pale white face and the blood smeared at the corner of his mouth. He pushed away the hair that framed his face, letting out a sigh of annoyance.
Itachi was dying and it wouldn't be much longer until the disease he had took him.
He washed away the taste from his mouth and returned to his bed.
He closed his eyes and let sleep take him.
Its sad, because what Itachi really failed to see and feel, were the tears falling down his cheeks.
And you may ask what is this feeling you feel.
Or why is it that you can't feel it.
Well sweetie I'm really sorry to say,
Its because you've become numb to that feeling.
Just Like Itachi.
AN:
I've been writing this all day and it never seemed to finish!
Hopefully you guys liked this if not well I'm sorry, but why are you still reading this? :)
This is only a shot nothing else.
Also if you're wondering why I didn't put Italics as Itachi's memory parts is because I didn't want too & Why I underlined the parts where Itachi is literally involved, well its cause I wanted too:)
But yes once again, I hope this made sense to you all and that you enjoyed it.
I say this only to say this [:P]
Please Review make me a happy authoress:)
Sorugao-BandGeek
Song playing:
Behind these eyes Eyes set to Kill