.For holding on is all he has ever wanted to do.
.
.
.
1. Lullabies (a broken piece of his childhood that stayed with him until the end.)
'… Rest your head and go to sleep…'
Most children did not remember their mothers' lullabies, but Itachi was different.
His ears were sensitive and his memory clear; they provided him with an ability to recall almost everything happening around him at a given moment. As a child, he had listened to his mother's voice, soft and gentle, luring him to sleep. He had learnt to repeat the same lullabies to himself whenever Mikoto wasn't home and slumber suddenly decided to escape from his grasp, which would prove useful later on when he had to comfort Sasuke, although his voice couldn't exactly be called melodious.
He kept the habit as he grew. Strangely enough, the older he got, the more he held onto the lullabies even when his mother no longer embraced him at night. Life as a ninja was by no means a walk in the park, especially to a child who had witnessed the terror of war like him. Wartime children knew how to slit throats before they could throw a kunai properly; they survived on ration pills, learned to swim in dangerous water, and shed their innocence like blood. Occasionally, Itachi would dream of the people who took lives and whose lives were taken in return, sometimes by his own hands – he wasn't a child, no more, he realized – and woke up with a daze, eyes filled to the brim with tears; and then came the lullabies from his own lips, from his own head, and he was calm again.
'… So sorry your world is tumbling down
I'll watch you through these nights
You're not alone in life
Although you might think that you are… '
Seventeen years later, Itachi smiled away his last breath and let the lullabies he had always known by heart pull him into eternal sleep. For the first time in his short life full of agony and betrayal, he felt at peace.
2. Bonds (he had always wanted to keep them, he really had, but fate seemed to love playing with his wishes.)
Despite having been told countless times that he was truly his father's son, Itachi thought of Fugaku more as a special superior than as a father. Instead of wanting to make the man proud, all Itachi did was simply following orders so as not to get into meaningless quarrels and fights. He longed for peace most of all, but his father had opposite ideas. The first time Itachi heard of the coup Fugaku and some other Uchiha were planning, he spent the whole night emptying his stomach and keeping his eyes wide open, afraid of the nightmares that would plague his dream if he let himself fall asleep.
Itachi might have cried when he slaughtered his clan, but not once did he cry for the broken bond between Fugaku and him.
However, it was the only bond he didn't regret severing.
Shisui was another story.
Shisui never really died. He might have sacrificed his eye, his life, his future for Itachi, but never did he really die. Itachi still saw him – the silhouette that kept visiting him at night, looming over his bed and whispering to him, softly –
Miss me, Itachi-kun?
Two bottomless black holes stared right at him, and he raised his arm, closer, closer –
He needed to feel –
Don't leave me, Shisui.
His best friend smiled and kissed his forehead lovingly, just like old times. Lingering somewhere in the air around them was the unmistakable scent of what they called "the past", mixed with illusions of a future never meant to be. But as long as Shisui was there with him, he could move mountains.
Nothing ever prepared him for the disappointing solitude the mornings after. However, instead of Shisui's empty sockets and gentle embrace, golden eyes looked at him somewhat worriedly and blue-skinned arms wrapped around him in a comforting manner – different, yet at the same time, so much alike – and Itachi woke up from his dream and acknowledged Kisame with a curt nod.
He didn't think of Kisame as a replacement – the Kiri nin was a respectable partner, at the very least - but sometimes he wondered if the man realized he had kissed him that night in the cave in the middle of a storm was because Shisui wasn't there and the loneliness had become too much.
Nevertheless, he knew that when the time came, he would have to leave Kisame behind to fulfill his duty as an older brother.
But for now, he would hold onto the remnants of the bonds he could still keep, and it didn't seem like Kisame would mind lending him some warmth tonight. Shisui would be pissed for sure, but he would understand, because while he had to leave Itachi's side when morning came knocking at the door, Kisame never did.
3. Life (he would have ended his own any moment, but he couldn't do that.)
Itachi had wanted to die so many times he had lost count after the tenth. He had wanted to die after soaking his hands with the Uchiha's blood. He had wanted to die after using Mangekyou Sharingan on Konoha's shinobi. He had wanted to die after seeing pure hatred in Sasuke's eyes directed towards him. He had wanted to die after knowing he had an incurable disease. He had wanted to die after experiencing just how much his chest would hurt and how difficult breathing would be each time he coughed up blood. He really had.
But then Kisame went out of his way and buy him painkillers and eyedrops and various other drugs and pills that he didn't even remember the names, and held him at night and tended to his wounds during the day, and did everything he could from cracking jokes to blabbering meaningless stories just to keep Itachi from slitting his own throat. Whatever Kisame did, it had worked, and for that Itachi was eternally grateful. Without him, he might as well have died long before Sasuke got the chance to avenge their family.
And Itachi found himself holding onto this could-have-been-beautiful life just a little bit more each day.
4. Lies (the ones that had become the truth at some point, and the ones that hadn't – always mocking him, taunting him and making him want to scream why, why, why –)
"I'm fine. It's just a cut."
He had known how to lie at a young age, and the first time he did, it was to his mother. In fact, the cut had hurt – after all, he was only three years old – and he really wanted to cry a little, but there it was – his father's disapproving glance whenever his eyes watered up – and he realized he would have to keep quiet. Or else.
"I'm sorry, Sasuke. Next time, okay?"
There was never a 'next time', they both knew, but Sasuke always believed in his brother. He had believed Itachi until the end, and while many things had gone wrong between them, Sasuke never once lost faith in his words, even if they were all calculated lies and nothing more.
"I can't do it, Shisui. I can't do it without you."
So he had told Shisui one morning by the Nakano after receiving the scroll for his ultimate mission. Two weeks later, Shisui drowned himself, entrusting his remaining eye to his baby cousin and making it become "I can't do it without you dying." And then Itachi had to kill off his clansmen – men and women, adults and children, the old and the young – without his best friend. For years later Itachi would hold onto the lies he created himself that Shisui hadn't died for him, or because of him, and what had happened was inevitable. But his subconscious always knew better.
"I can do everything by myself."
After the massacre, Itachi had repeated this like a mantra in his head – I can do this, I can do this, I certainly can and Sasuke and Konoha will be safe and sound – and in a way, it kept him from going insane with all the losses and the pain. He had truly believed himself, weaving lies into truth and truth into lies, hoping to fix the world's mistakes alone, never needing anyone's help. However, his shoulders could only bear so much, and Sasuke had turned against the Leaf and the Forth World War had broken out; people he had tried to protect all his life were dying and there was nothing he could do to reverse his actions because he had already been reduced to skin and bones.
And only then did he recognize his foolishness, holding onto lies and turning away from the truth just to regret it in the end. He couldn't help wishing some of those lies had turned into truth, for the weight of his decisions had followed him to his grave and his eyes hadn't been able to close.
But it was all over now.
.
.
.
.And he always ends up letting go.
