Opal
The walls are white.
(It is a color neither registered nor rejected by him, simply a fact that is as it is, and Shisui is painfully used to that fact, like the way the moon is red and the people beyond his door never stop knocking. How they I never/I can fucking stop knocking for him, expecting an answer he so refuses to give, and he's always, oh how he's always-) The walls are very, I very /I white. (It is all he has to stare at. Every day, all the time, and such he has grown used to, like the knocking and the rhythmic screaming in his head that those who hold him close stare at his in curiosity when he tells of.
But they aren't here.) Of course not.
"Mou, Itachi-kun."
His fingernails crunch as another piece of paint meshes beneath them, the nail splitting from the bed in two pieces and a pale pink before the red begins to seep through the creases within, and he picks the paint away and sucks at his finger until he stops bleeding. (But he can't feel it.) And it never really stops. (You never really, oh how you never. Little Itachi, sweet Itachi, can't you see the white. Can't you see it staring?) His tone is soft as he picks at the wall, the gaping hole from where he lip-ring used to be as he sucks at flaring up. (In an epitome. In his own, but that is nothing new, of course not-) He closes his eye contentedly. (The other is open. The other is-) "Today a pretty girl came to visit me."
He sighs, smiling genuinely as the light glares down at him and the loose white clothes, tied onto him with elastic material from within the fabric, reflect the light, back into the camera in the left corner glaring down at him from the opposite side of the room. (No experience could ever match the way Shisui is escaping from-) "She was tall and had black hair and eyes-" (Like stars. Like one two three and Shisui's disordered self, and at the same time so utterly different, for, I oh /I for-) "-that were always closed." (Open.)
(Tea tastes like poison.
Shisui is calm when he drinks it, across from his cousin with a pleasant smile on his pretty face, and Mikoto enters the room calmly, a tray of food in her hand and a pleasant smile on her face.
"Ano, Itachi. Shisui. I have cookies for you-")
Itachi doesn't reply.
(Itachi never replies.
Itachi is not-)
"Do you know Miss Mikoto?"
A sigh.
(It's almost fretful. It's almost a lot of things. And Shisui sits on the floor, quietly, etching away the white paint and letting his fingers take it until the nails split apart and there's nothing left but Red. Nothing but what has always been and what will always be, and he, I oh /I he-) "Itachi-kun… Don't be so quiet."
(Itachi is never there.)
Mikoto comes in at six pm to give Shisui his Schizophrenia medications, and the next day he hasn't met her before all over again.
"Itachi-kun…"
The walls are white.
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Shisui x Mikoto fanfic 8D I've fallen in love with this boy