A/N: So this is before Uchiha massacre. There are some hints of Itachi/Kakashi and some hints of Itachi/Shushi. Also be warned of weird imagery/symbolism.

--We will not be the first, we won't
You said you were going to conquer new frontiers,
Go stick your bloody head in the jaws of the beast
We promised the world, we'd tame it, what were we hoping for?—Bloc Party

Occasionally , there are times when Itachi wonders what Kakashi's face would look like. Without the mask. Usually the thought is fleeting, like the beat of a humming bird moving with the wind, usually Itachi has more important things to wonder about: like if its really possible to rip a man's beating heart out before he finishes his hand signals (Itachi watches carefully, eyes in red, lost in translation) of his forbidden scroll.

But there's always that moment, the moment when, while standing in his Anbu gear, bleeding heart spasming in his too small hands that Itachi's red eyes will meet his scarred one and he'll feel—curious. That feeling will itch at him none too subtly and remind Itachi of how little is left unknown in this world. How quickly the tangles of our existence are unraveled once touched by Sharingan. How pathetic and futile and boring it all really is.

Predictable. Utterly predictable and controllable and shaped by Itachi's blood soaked hands. Literally.

That feeling, that …anxiety, that curiosity….its so foreign, so alien, so thrilling, so almost terrifying that Itachi is filled with disgust at just how spoiled he's been. Spoiled, pampered like some all knowing Greek God. For the first time in his life Itachi is (for a split second, stretched in the universe behind his eyes) lost in the exhilaration and trepidation of not—knowing.

It makes him feel…well not really humble but definitely very human, very….un-removed. It makes Itachi feel more like Itachi again and less like a God or a Demon. It makes his eyes ache, and burn, and itch to go back to the days when everything was just a beautiful, safe, blinding pitch black and Itachi didn't have rotting corpses of the hidden leaf village in his very soul.

That feeling, it lasts for just a split second. The longest and most painful split second in the world and surely still too short, still too many years too late. "That heart's pretty useless now Itachi. You may want to put it down." Kakashi shrugs with this arrogant ease, despite his ripped clothing and matted hair "Its just a suggestion though, take it as you please Itachi."

It makes him a little wary, the habit Kakashi has of using his name despite the fact they were still on a mission…an Anbu mission. Granted Itachi would know if anyone was around and could easily take them out, so in that light it doesn't compromise the mission. It doesn't really compromise anything except Itachi himself who, for the longest time, was convinced that he had done the best job at protecting his identity.

Obviously not good enough.

It upsets Itachi a little, in the way Itachi used to get upset when Sasuke went through his cool stuff. Back when Itachi was still a child. Two years ago.

It isn't fair. It doesn't matter that Itachi was a teenager and that his closet was getting closer to being full with skeletons every second of every day. It doesn't matter that Itachi knew how unfair life really was. Knew from the moment he stepped into the Council's room and stared at all their old and unsympathetic faces that his life would probably never be fair again.

Not until death.

Knowing doesn't always make it easy to accept and it doesn't change the facts. If someone were keeping score between the two sharingan users then Kakashi would have to get a point on his board. He knew who Itachi was, could probably pick him out of a crowd with his one eye—mask or no mask. But if Kakashi were to ever take his mask off, not this one but that deceivingly flimsy layer underneath it—Itachi is almost sure he'd have no idea who Kakashi was.

Kakashi could be anyone, anyone at all, standing in some lonely corner of the world, shouting at the top of his lungs and Itachi would easily walk by…maybe rip his vocal cords out to stop the screaming.

This knowledge makes Itachi feel a little uneasy, as if his stomach were a cage for 1,000 hummingbirds trying to find their way out. Freedom. And Kakashi doesn't even have the decency to look away.

It makes Itachi feel like a ghost. The way Kakashi looks at him. He just has this way. This way of looking at things as if they weren't ever really there. This pained expression like everything was fading.

Itachi clutches the heart in his hand just to be sure he's still standing. Still some tangible mass. He clutches and realizes that the heart has grown cold and motionless in his hands. It feels heavy—like a tombstone.

Itachi lets it roll out of his hands into the damp grass, into the mound of dead bodies. The clean up crew will have to do their jobs and take care of it. Itachi can't be responsible for everything. Not soon anyway.

Kakashi stretches and yawns, his eyes following the rolling hearts trail "I'm tired." Itachi nods, rubs at the corner of his eye "Its been a long mission."

"Its been a long life." Itachi doesn't say anything, just simply nods again in an agreement to old and wise for his young years. "'I think I'm going to retire. " Itachi is shocked, and his eyes widen, revealing it instantly. It is not an emotion he's used to having to hide, or having at all.

"This is useless, you know that Itachi. There's always something. Some other mission, and then another and none of this" his eyes flickered to the pile of bodies "matters. Its not permanent. Nothing changes, not forever."

Itachi doesn't speak and Kakashi is not fazed by it. Itachi is sure Kakashi is used to speaking to no one who will answer; all of his ghosts, all of this dead friends that he carries…clinging to his back.

Kakashi slowly pushes his Anbu mask up, revealing the dark and damp bit of cloth covering his face, looking as if it had been sewn to his skin. Itachi watches him, watches him go from one mask to the next and can't help but wonder if for Kakashi…the entire world isn't some ghost.

Some carcass. Mutilated and abused. Dead, stagnant, unchanging. Wonders if that isn't what Kakashi's sharingan shows him. The one he had stolen.

Wonders if that isn't what everyone's sharingan shows them.

"Maybe I'll take a team or something with all my free time. Who knows I might get your brother." Kakashi chuckles a mirthless laugh and Itachi finds him self swept with this alarming feeling of comfort…resolve. It makes him almost willing to kiss Kakashi but Itachi could never betray Shushi like that not when he was doing so much wrong already.

"I think this is it Itachi. After today, I can't guarantee I'll do anymore of these sorts of missions." Itachi isn't dumb, he knows this is goodbye and he simply nods because in two weeks he knows he won't be doing these sorts of missions either.

Well at least—not with Kakashi and never as just Itachi again. It occurs to Itachi that this maybe, no is his last chance to ever see Kakashi's face. That if not now it will be never. The words rest on his tongue as Kakashi gives a lazy wave and begins to walk in the next direction. Itachi's bloody hand reaches out as if to stop him but Itachi does not move.

Does not do anything. His eyes are open like the cadaver by his foot whose mouth is parted in a silent and obviously unheard cry. He just watches and tries to tell himself it doesn't really matter. Nothing would have changed. Not really.

Kakashi's face is probably just like everyone else's. Nothing special. With two eyes, a nose, two ears, lips, a chin, a scar…that sort of face. The sort of face you can find on any ninja, any person at all, in this whole world. Boring and pathetic like everyone else.

Even still, at least the score board would show them one to one. They'd be tied, on equal playing field. For once in Itachi's life things would be fair again. For once in his life Itachi would know what if felt like.

To finally stop—finally stop loosing.

--And with a
"goodbye"
there she goes
she may Betray
All that she loves—Tori Amos