'Uchiha...'

Itachi held his surname in his mind, molding it, pulling it, sampling it, and putting it back like a candy far too bland. In his ignorant days, those three syllables together were an immense sword limited to him and his blood. People revered the sword, respected the sword, sought out the sword in times of need. The sword was sharp and heavy, but he had wielded it with ease.

Now, as he ascended the ranks amongst shinobi, he knew 'Uchiha' to be the clothing he yearned to remove. It was lightweight, but lacked meaning for him. Everywhere he went, he carried it on him. He was seen in his useless clothing and categorized instantly, permanently. He was looped with the others who wore the same clothes. He had a special badge: a prodigy's badge, the badge modeled only by the most superior of the superiors, but it still was not enough. He was still too different from them.

How he yearned to cast off the troublesome garments and run bare. There would be no clothes to cling and weigh him down when he chose to walk in the rain, nor to limit his movement, nor to launder in order to maintain their good appearance.

'Sharingan.'

This sweet word was the one he most enjoyed. It was his favorite amongst them. It was the steel of the sword of the name Uchiha. He wanted to rip away hilt and the sheath of the sword and melt down the steel, keeping the Sharingan alone. His eyes, they were his sparkling rubies. There was nothing in the world that he could not obtain with those eyes except the abolition of his surname, but he was sure that in due time, they would provide that for him, too.

The younger Uchiha, Sasuke, had entered his room and had begun speaking to Itachi with all the pep of somone who is unaware the future is grim. Itachi heard, but did not listen. He was in his place. That was, in truth, where he always was, coming out only to appease his clan or to kill the enemies Konoha chose for him.

His place was dark, but not the distorted meaning of 'dark'. It was simply a place where his eyes need not see, his ears need not hear, his nose need not smell, his tongue need not taste, his fingers need not touch. It was where his thoughts brewed, swirled, boiled over, and raged, but never stopped. It was the place where he stored his truths, his true self. He found very little sensation there, but it was more than the outside world provided. He got by on that very little, but he always desired more.

His thoughts lived in his place as cattle, and he was there herder. He could catch them, keep them, or send them off into the endless depths. Or, as some cattle do, they chose their own path. But never did they leave that place.

"You promised to help me with shuriken training tomorrow! I'm not going to let you go back on your promise this time!"

Itachi addressed his whining brother with the typical tap on the forehead and half-hearted 'sorry'.

"Why can't you do it this time?"

"Mission tomorrow."

Itachi left his brother and walked silently down the hallway. He hoped to pass his father without word, but his father was a hindurance by nature.

"Where are you going, Itachi?" Itachi met his father's coal-black eyes. They were attempting to read his answer before he even got it out. His father had yet to learn that he would never understand Itachi, though flesh and blood he may be.

"Out."

"But the sun has already set! You have a mission tomorrow, Itachi. Do not forget your responsibility to this clan."

"This is for the mission." Itachi did not wait for his father's approval before leaving. He could not tell his father that he was being drawn outside by something intangible. He felt compelled- an unfamiliar sensation- and he wasn't sure if he enjoyed it. It had been so long since he had genuinely enjoyed something that he wasn't quite sure when he did.

The invisible hook brought him to the Nakano shrine.

He grimaced. Nothing was awaiting him. He ascended the stairs like a shadow and simply sat, not feeling compelled to go home as he had to come there.

And then she came to him.

In a haze of light she descended before him, like a star settling on earth. Porcelain skin clashed against endless raven hair. Infinitely deep, sapphire eyes- no, not sapphire. He was sure that every color he knew and some he did not inhabited those eyes- a kaleidoscope of colors that merely had a blue lens over them. They were not innocent eyes, but indulgent ones- ones that knew the truth and of things better than Earth, and were not bothered by anything that had to do with Man.

And it was those eyes that held his own. Not the eyes that he looked at his peers with, but his True Eyes. The ones that were always closed, resting inside his mind. His True Eyes were open for the first time, dazzled by the brilliant light, enjoying the intense, euphoric sensation of being near blinded by the beauty of this woman- no, this divinity.

"Who?" He managed. The rest of the words escaped him. Itachi was aware he was in the presence of something greater.

She smiled a smile that parted her ruby lips and revealed white teeth. The night was windless, but still her pink kimono rippled.

"I am the Mugen Umu."

"Are you the one that brought me here?" His monotone traveled throughout the silence of the temple like ripples on the water.

She smiled a sensuous smile, resting her hand on two pillowy breasts.

"What do you want from me?"

"The bond between Heaven and Earth is severed. I have no desire for earthly things..."

"Then why have you come to me?" He scrutinized her. She seemed to take delight in his emotioness tone.

"You... you are not so earthly..." She whispered, extending her milky white hand to his shoulder.

Father Time seemed to breathe much slower as Itachi watched her movement. As her hand drew nearer, the illusion of the kimono vanished. Not disintegrated, not faded- vanished. From the arm and then inwards, it seemed someone had taken an eraser to that heavenly body. And then his own clothes seemed to melt away, armor and all.

And her skin touched his.

It hit Itachi with the force of a freight train, only with a pleasure that shook his virgin core. All of his senses had been shocked into awakening by her touch, like being born into a coma and awakening for the first time in the midst of a party. His body pulsed with desire as she pushed him slowly onto his bare back. He knew this was no dream.

The sight, the touch, the taste, the scent of this Goddess, this Mugen Umu- this was not a sensation. It was Sensation. The thing all men, even the High Priests, desired. Men fought wars, sought love, engaged in acts of lust and gluttony, even purified themselves- just to get a little closer to this. This was the feeling the Gods felt all the time; it was what made them Gods. The Sensation was the highest level of Pleasure, of Awareness, that men or Gods could feel. It was what he had been seeking- ecstasy of the mind and body.

And so Uchiha Itachi bedded a God.

Tsuneni: Please review! For those of you who haven't seen/read this arc of the story, this is not what happened! It's just an interesting idea I thought up based on the way Itachi behaves. This isn't going to be a long fic, there will probably be three more short chapters at the most.