Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Never have, never will.
It was strange, feeling so empty.
The katana in his hand felt oddly heavy in comparison.
Like, feeling everything weighing down on the outside, as the hollow inside creaks and groans to try and stay whole.
Uchiha Itachi had never quite felt like that before. He hated it more and more with the fall of every footstep he made, drawing him farther and farther out away from Konoha and his little brother.
Oh, Sasuke, Itachi dropped down from the trees and slowed down his pace to a walk better suited for old retired shinobi. I'm so sorry.
He pushed off his ANBU mask, holding it weakly in the same hand that refused to let go of his bloodstained katana. Please, he prayed to the fates, to whoever would listen, please protect Sasuke. I have done all that I can for now.
Thirteen years old is too young, Itachi mused with a bitter smile as his eyes swept up to the clear night sky. He wished it were raining, at least then he could have blamed the water growing in his eyes on the weather instead of the emptiness that was threatening to consume him.
It had to be done, he reasoned, facing forward again, but keeping with his old, tired pace on the near invisible forest trail. If I hadn't done it, they would have sent someone else and Sasuke would have been killed. If I hadn't done it, even more people would be dead if Otou-san went through with his stupid plan.
Itachi's throat constricted and he barely choked back a sob.
It's not fucking fair! He mentally growled. There was no stopping the tears that continued to cascade down his pale face, through the marks made of stress and made him look so much like his father. Itachi dropped the katana and mask from his right hand and punched the nearest tree with a loud cry of frustration and anguish. Blood dripped onto ground beneath the unfortunate victim, mingling with the roots, dirt and grass, giving him his only battle wound from the massacre. Physically anyway. The mental battle wounds would never heal like his knuckles would.
He collapsed under the tree with the fist shaped hole in it, drawing his knees up into his chest.
I need to continue, he told himself, I need to get to the Akatsuki's headquarters,
But no matter what verbal abuse his mind gave him, Itachi stayed sitting under the tree, lost in his descent into darkness.
First fanfiction under this penname! I wrote this one night when I was dealing with some dark shit… I had to get my angst out somehow and Itachi fit right into it, the poor boy. Hope you enjoyed it (or at least didn't hate it). Constructive criticism is always appreciated.