Give to me Limbo

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

She didn't wake up screaming, amazingly enough, and managed to avoid rousing her slumbering husband. Instead, her eyes snapped open so suddenly that an observer might have been amazed that her visionary devices had not been frozen in that state. She lay there in her spot on the futon, shivering; her harsh breathing was kept as quiet as possible –she would not be able to go through an interrogation for the source of her distress– and there was cold sweat breaking out at her temples.

When she turned her head to the window, she saw that it was still the dark of the night; she had gone to bed only a few hours previous. Had it really only been a few hours? It had to have been much longer than that; how else could she have suffered watching that tragic chain of events? Never before had the Uchiha matriarch ever faced such a nightmare as the one she had just witnessed.

It had started off as a simple dream, rather pleasant, in a sense, though only tranquility dotted the air. Itachi and Sasuke had been older than they were at the moment –Sasuke's hair was sticking up in a strange manner, just like his father's–, though not by much. Sasuke was old enough to walk, as she could see, and trying to catch his elder brother. Itachi was playing along, it seemed, always slipping out of the grasp of Sasuke's outstretched fingers when the latter got too close. It was a nice scene, one Mikoto would not have minded watching for a prolonged period of time.

But then, the small clearing where the child's game had been played started to darken as shadows engulfed Itachi completely and started to snake around Sasuke, slowly sinking into his skin. The two were older yet again, but this time, Itachi had a forehead protector as part of his attire –the mark of a shinobi. And he couldn't have been more than eight. Mikoto stiffened in her perch that was outside of the setting when Itachi unknowingly looked into her direction, revealing his eyes to be a bloody crimson. The Sharingan –that was impossible, even if Itachi did show promise, he couldn't be that good.

Right?

Not long after, the scene changed again to reveal an older Sasuke –he was probably around seven or eight in this one– tugging at his brother's arm. When Mikoto saw no response from the appendage of the elder boy, she frowned and focused her gaze upon her first son. What she saw took her breath away, momentarily.

There were rather deep stress lined etched into Itachi's skin –lines that deep wouldn't ever go away, a deeply located part of her mind murmured– and his eyes–

–oh his eyes. The orbs were no longer that horrid shade of blood, but they were so dull, lifeless, yet there seemed to be no end to them. Noticing the same lack of anything in Itachi's reaction, Sasuke tugged his brother's arm again, pleading something. Finally, Itachi turned to his younger brother and shook his head, at the same time detaching his arm from the grip of his sibling and walked away, leaving an obviously disappointed Sasuke in his wake.

Once again, the image that her eyes were seeing changed. This scene was different from the previous ones; this time, she was in it. Fugaku and she were sitting facing Itachi, whose eyes were still as dull as they were in the previous scene. Fugaku was muttering something angrily at Itachi while he responded calmly. This cycle went back and forth without the image's Mikoto doing anything except taking short glances at her son and her lap when Itachi interrupted his father, telling Sasuke to go to bed. The scene's Mikoto snapped her head up to look at the sliding door while Fugaku straightened and looked indignant. The shouji panel slid open, and a saddened Sasuke's eye peeked through to take a quick survey of the situation and linger on his brother. Then, he slid the door shut and the sound of light footsteps dotted the scene before it morphed into something much, much worse.

Sasuke appeared to be the same age that he was in the previous scene, but he was on his knees, clutching his head while screaming out in agony. Only a few feet away, Itachi stood, his eyes cold –and that blood color again, but this time much worse–, watching his brother writhe. Around the two, the world seemed red. Mikoto watched, horrorstruck, as an image of son went about to kill quickly and efficiently the members of their clan. It was the torturous picture of her death right before Fugaku's that seemed to hurt Sasuke the most. He screamed out words this time, pleading with his brother to stop this hell, but Itachi did not comply.

Killed by her son. The shock of that did not completely leave her mind as the final scene played out. It was the worst part of the nightmare.

Itachi and Sasuke were much older now, and donning strange articles of clothing. Itachi wore a large black cloak that was decorated with red clouds and its collar covered the lower half of his face completely, leaving only blank eyes for her to take note of. Sasuke's outfit was even stranger –a purple cord tied dark blue pants and a white top left most of his chest exposed. The two were fighting, and that was enough to make Mikoto gape at the scene that would have seemed so unlikely during the first scene of her dream turned nightmare. Itachi seemed to be struggling for some reason; he stopped periodically during the fight to cough up blood, giving Sasuke the advantage. Still, Sasuke was driven back by his prodigal elder brother, and it was when Sasuke summoned lightning to target Itachi that the scene blacked out and Mikoto awoke. She never discovered the outcome of the battle.

X

Her feet barely made a sound as she hurried across the halls of the silent compound to her younger son's room. She stopped in his doorway, lightly panting, before crossing the expanse to peer at an infant Sasuke –not much older than a year. He was sleeping contentedly, drooling slightly and blowing small bubbles during his slumber. Mikoto sighed, relaxing despite herself, and took time to observe her second son. Sasuke was so peaceful this way…he couldn't turn into the haunted being that she had seen in her dream. That was impossible.

Suddenly, a creak in the floorboards sounded, and Mikoto whipped around to meet the dark, but relatively unburdened eyes of her first child. His high cheekbones were a prominent part of his patrician features and even with the nightmare passed, Mikoto could still see the stress lines that could eventually etch themselves into his tired face.

Wait…no. That would mean that her nightmare was a vision warning of the future. No, Mikoto scoffed inwardly, that was impossible.

Itachi padded silently into the room –even at his tender age of six, he showed obvious signs of being an excellent shinobi– to stand beside her in observing Sasuke.

("Is something wrong, okaa-sama?") He sounded so innocent right there, how could he turn into her killer? Mikoto shoved that thought to the back of her mind and concentrated on answering Itachi.

("No, it's nothing. I was just checking on Sasuke.") It seemed that the hushed whispers of mother and first son had awoken the second, for his eyes blinked sleepily a few times before they turned onto his elder brother.

("Ani-ani!") Now widened eyes stared at his younger brother with interest. He turned to her, his eyes silently asking permission. She acquiesced, not able to refuse. Itachi bent down and slid his hands under his younger brother's body; one hand curling around the back of the head to support it and the other going to hold up the torso. Then, he lifted Sasuke so very carefully and continued to stare into his brother's eyes with utter fascination.

Such love already, Mikoto mused. This little infant, already so attuned to his elder brother couldn't possibly turn to hate him so. And the elder brother, already loving his brother, couldn't possibly put his sibling through the torture Mikoto had seen him perform.

She hoped.

It was just a dream, she assured herself while quietly observing the interaction of her two children. It wasn't something I would have gone through hell in order to escape.

X

When she woke up again that next morning, Uchiha Mikoto remembered nothing of the previous night.

I know LTWAH isn't being updated. It's difficult to update this year, even more so than the previous year. I'm behind on so many things, fanfiction-wise. Mostly because of social studies, that is; National History Day is mandatory for me, which just really sucks. Apparently, the thing is supposed to be fun, but my teacher is just one who makes it utter hell.

I don't know if this has been done before. I know it's a rather clichéd concept, but I like it. If any projects such as this one have already been posted, please inform me of the matter, and I will proceed to delete this.

Ignoring my rant/excuse, a small analysis of this little piece. If one wants a happy ending, he or she can simply ignore the last line and create a universe where Mikoto remembered her dream and turned into a lioness to stop the emotional traumatizing of Itachi. Otherwise, just think of this a possible moment in the time before the canon, or think of this as a vestige of a crazy procrastinator's mind.

Or, just ignore the whole –way too long– note, but point out mistakes if you see them.

I will update LTWAH. Eventually.

-Quiet Moon