Sleeper
I trace the now familiar features over and over as he sleeps. Strong jaw, high cheekbones, straight small nose ending in a curve upward, large eyes set under a rather high forehead, and the most delicious mouth ever. I go lower, 'seeing' a smooth collar, broad shoulders, lean chest, narrow waist and hips, and long legs.
Yes, these are the characteristics of my little brother. And I have to say, after getting to know all these body parts (and a few more I won't mention) very well, I can see why my little brother said I feel delicate. At nineteen, he's built like a horse. Strong and powerful and a little wild. But don't misunderstand me, I wanted him as wild as he could be.
People like Sasuke and I aren't meant to kept on a leash and collar, and I knew that was exactly what the Uchiha clan was going to do. But I wouldn't submit to them, and they hated that.
I did what I had to, no more, no less. I protected myself and my brother from a miserable life of obedience and separation. A life neither of us wanted. I know this, but Sasuke doesn't. He has been heavily hinting lately he would like to know why.
But how could he understand? He was too innocent, too young. He had no idea what he would've become in a family like that. And he would've become, in the end, me. They hadn't even been attentive enough to see his true potential, to see Sasuke. But how could I have expected them to?
They hadn't seen me, Itachi. They saw Itachi the Prodigy. I hated it. It disgusted me to no end. They had no love for me, they just loved the idea of me, of power. Because the Uchihas had gone far from they're Golden Age, with nothing more than they're bloodlines to go on, and even that was a died-end one-way street.
I was they're last chance at glory, at going on. But they soon found out I wouldn't be their pet. I refused to go on with their idiotic plots. And they saw my little brother as weak, a runt good for nothing more than to do their dirty work, to become their obedient slave.
I vowed to myself never to let it happen. My own parents wouldn't stand up for him, but I did. I had to. I wanted my otouto to have better than I did, to be treated like he was something more than a mindless machine. But I wanted him to have power, too. A power of his own to prove to my now dead, moronic relatives that he was more than a good-for-nothing runt they could push around.
In short, I wanted my brother to be everything I had once wished for myself. Because I knew by then it was too late for me. After awhile, I was just born to kill.
To be continued...