Tonight, the word had been reverberating around his mind since the clock struck midnight. Tonight he wouldn't sleep. He often wouldn't sleep before a big mission since he found the denial of such a basic human need sharpened his mind; Instead of sleeping he had wound himself into a deep meditation and when he opened his eyes with the setting sun at 8:45 he saw the rest of the night spanning before him, vast and red like a war-torn sea.
The redness of the coming night engulfed his thoughts and he found himself appreciating the rightness of the Uchiha crest. They had, after all, always identified with the passionate color. Any reservations regarding the extinguishing of one's own clan had been quelled months before long ago in the promise of protecting the greater good. One indecision remained, and it merely dealt with where his red night began.
It had to be her. Of course he considered his father, or brother, but it had to be her. She knew not of violence. Her life consisted of an exquisite banality. Rai Uchiha was her name, and she spent much of her time holed up in a small apartment overlooking the bustling main street, which was lined with an excess of fruit vendors and fastidious artisans. Itachi had shared his childhood with her and it seemed only natural for them to develop a romantic relationship. She had momentarily attended the Academy before dropping out to the dismay of both her parents. She became interested in collecting antique and otherwise books to one day lend at a price to her fellow villagers. He dwelled on her unconventional aspirations for a second longer before remembering her appearance; her black hair she kept swept to one side of a small round face, her eyes, two shades lighter than his own that shone even in the darkness.
Over the last few years he had spent a lot of time with her in the darkness. After missions, when he returned between sunset and sunrise, he would visit her. Together they would stay up and talk or sit in silence, eventually they transitioned into lovers. From then on she left her balcony door unlocked for him. The balcony door Itachi observed, needed a paint job, because standing before it now he was watching peeling green paint rustle in the wind. To the left of him was a small herb garden, set in a porcelain pot, she had planted with him last summer. She had painted blue swirls along the side with her steady hand. He remembered her telling him "It was supposed to be reminiscent of the ocean", and when he had given her a doubtful look she admitted the decoration served to remind her to "water the damn things".
Rai had an honesty about her, her intentions rarely cleverly hidden or distorted to seem more appealing, at least to his trained eyes. She was no ninja, physically nor mentally, and for this reason he had come to her with no weapons. There would be no fight, only a needle tucked away in the pocket of his pants filled with a serum nicked from 'Konoha's Chemical Warfare Depository'. The serum, clear as liquid diamond, was designed to kill quickly and silently. Itachi was familiar with the qualities due to its use against an ANBU squad four months prior. He had been sent on the mission to retrieve the formula in an effort to even the playing field. He rested his hand on the black iron door handle, still wet from the afternoon's rain, but before he wanted to enter the door creaked open.
He was greeted by a half awake angel. She rubbed her large, tired eyes with the back of her hand, simultaneously yawning giving Itachi a whiff of sleep breath. She then smiled and stepped aside to let him in. He evaluated his surroundings. Her apartment was always changing; the furniture was constantly being moved around. Evidence of the effort being thick grey scratches along the wooden floor accompanied by slips of obnoxiously yellow noise complaints she kept pinned to the refrigerator door.
Rai asked Itachi if he wanted anything to eat. He always said no, but he supposed it was just the training of an overly traditional mother that made this a regular exchange. She had begun filling the kettle with water to make tea before he asked. She faced away from him, leaning over a steel kitchen sink, her loose hair swinging dangerously close to the stream of tap water. Ebony eyes wandered along her figure, she was wearing a white tee shirt and blue underwear, the kind that has a thin bit of lace trim and a small bow in line beneath her bellybutton. She was always wearing some variant of this outfit when he visited her, he thought it lovely.
She turned and caught him staring, her face shifting into a coy smile. Normally the simple exchange would have instigated romance, however, this night was not normal. His gaze dropped, her smile faltered and she continued making their tea, she was fairly used to his moods after all. She respected the lines Itachi drew, another reason for why he adored her so.
He could do it now. It would be so easy to step behind her as if to embrace her and pierce her neck with the needle he currently had clasped tight in his hand. Seconds passed like strangers on the street, brisk and unsmiling. Itachi was well aware of time, the fluidity of it. He took comfort in the concreteness of the past. Rai would always be a part of the past, alive in it. The two of them eternally together in that ever distancing yesterday.
"We should get married" Itachi suggested abruptly in his monotone. He looked at Rai, she had frozen about to pour jasmine tea into the second cup. Without pouring, she set the porcelain heirloom pot down with a chink, brushed her right hand through her hair and walked barefoot across tile to sit next to Itachi at the kitchen table.
"Where did that come from?" her voice ingenuous. It was strange for Itachi to hear her speak with such childlike curiosity. She rarely asked questions, rather letting people reveal as they wanted and left it at that.
Itachi truthfully didn't know. Maybe his proposal was an attempt to comfort her, give her hope for a future. The lie of it all actually churned his stomach causing a wave of nausea to break across his mind.
"I want to be able to leave you everything if something were to happen to me, I have a high-risk job you know" he reasoned in a kind tone reserved for those few he held dear.
Rai giggled, playfully knocking him with her shoulders. Itachi turned to her in subtle surprise as she sighed, "You're supposed to say you're madly in love with me, that you want to grow old with me or some other romantic shit".
"Some romantic shit", Itachi repeated, his mind clearly elsewhere.
Rai stood then, placing her left hand atop Itachi's head tilting him back so she could look into his eyes. He looked back, waiting for her to say something.
She said, "There's nothing fun about being so practical all the time, Itachi" and leaned forward brushing her lips on his cheek. He blinked at her, she straightened up, loosened her shoulders and turned causing black hair to fan out behind her. She continued preparing their tea.
Itachi stretched out in the oak chair, resting his hands in his pant's pockets. He began thumbing the plunger of the needle. The coolness of the metal grounded him. He should do it now. It was almost ten thirty, and he had a meeting with the Hokage at eleven to receive any last minute intel. He also desired a moment to collect himself. The familiarity he had with death, he thought, would prevent mourning, but shock would most likely still set in
Rai interrupted his thoughts when she placed a tea cup accompanied by a sugared cookie on the polished table in front of him. Itachi enjoyed sweet foods, he supposed that was human nature, some evolutionary development, nothing noteworthy.
He resolved to let her have her tea first. He noticed the cup set she had chosen was red, crimson precisely. The weight of the colour provoked a fleeting pain. Everything ends in red he decided in that very moment.
"I suppose you want an answer," she drawled munching the end of her own plain cookie. Her arms crossed in front of her, so she was leaning slightly toward Itachi, quietly signalling she demanded his entire attention. Itachi sat up in his seat placing both hands on either side of his tea cup.
"That is why I asked you a question", he answered. Rai was entertained by this response, she shifted in her seat and placed a thin hand under her chin.
Squinting at him as she started "You know, I think I might have to say yes. Itachi's black eyes shifted towards her, " You are pretty fucking well off, and as you may have noticed my library is suffering in this jock- town, so yes Itachi, I will marry you", she paused for dramatic effect and firmly concluded, "For economic purposes only".
Her eyes lit up a moment later as inspiration struck and she continued in sarcastic tone, "Not because I enjoy your handsome face, your accidental humor, or gentlemanly kindness. No, I am now a certified gold digger! Feel free to spread it around the whole damn town Itachi, dear."
"Your chest is not remotely big enough for people to believe that of you" Itachi chided as he brought his tea to his lips.
At this Rai lost it, she laughed bringing her knees to her chest and hand to her mouth, muffling her laughter. She looked at him though smiling, watery eyes.
"You are a piece of work Itachi Uchiha" she remarked though her hand.
"Thank you" Itachi replied facing forward, eyes closed and his hand in his left pocket gripping a stainless steel and glass needle loaded with that clear syrupy liquid.
The couple sat in silence for a few moments sipping tea. Itachi was mulling over the reasons for why she had to be first, he was perhaps convincing himself. He didn't want her to witness gruesome death, or experience paralysing fear, that shattering betrayal. He also did not want to see her face when she realized it was him; his mind's eye conjuring wide angel eyes looking terrorized, a delicate mouth opening and closing in her inability to understand his-
Rai broke the silence, "How many children does Itachi Uchiha want?" Itachi didn't have an answer, there was no point in fathoming up one either, in his mind. He was done talking. She was finished with her tea.
Itachi stood, the oak chair creaked, and he walked toward Rai. Black sandals against wooden floor. She watched him, and he looked at her. Her expression shifted from light amusement to bewilderment at his action. She could sense something was not quite right.
Itachi pulled her up by placing both his hands on each of her arms, she rose, her shirt crumpled from sitting to where the white skin of her stomach was peeking out. He pulled her near and heard her breath catch.
"Is this supposed to be an answer?" She thought.
He kissed her mouth. She slowly melted into him, wrapping both her arms around his neck. Itachi had one hand on her waist half under her white shirt. He pressed firmly onto her skin, warm and soft, as his other hand still rested in his pant's pocket. The needle was less cool now, it had become warm by his hand.
He opened his eyes and watched her face, his gaze careful and calculating. She was lost in the moment. In all her humor she was still just a girl in love. He brought his hand up, as if to cup her cheek, only in his grasp was the needle. Her demise.
Just then her eyes blinked open. Itachi's drive faltered.
"Your eyes are open, you freak", she teased.
"I like to watch your face", he defended, determinately keeping her eyes locked on his as he lowered his hand and her needle back into his pocket.
"I think you are very strange", she mused standing on tip-toe to nuzzle into his neck. "But that's perfect", she added, "Because I'm strange too".
Itachi by a speed only possible by the combination of training and desperation, brought the needle up to the right side of her neck and stuck her with it. He saw pain flash across her face as she stepped back bringing her own hand up to feel the injection point, followed by confusion as wide grey eyes flicked up to meet his. He stood paralysed, caught in her gaze. Held by it, until his training snapped him out of the shock. He pressed his long nails into the palm of his hand.
Her gaze broke from his. She seemed to look through him, past him, before she stumbled back again. Bare feet on wooden floors.
Itachi, in his grace, caught her in her final fall. She was gone when he looked at her face next, her eyes still wide, her body warm. The needle lay forgotten on the side, a single drop still emerging, glistening, from the tip.
Itachi picked her up in his arms, and lay her on a worn leather sofa. He closed her eyes, as he had done for so many fallen comrades and folded her arms across her chest. She may not have been his comrade in arms, but she had been a comrade in life. He went into the bedroom across from the kitchen to find a linen to shroud her with. She had painted since he had been there last, the walls now a bright cherry red. He felt a coldness set into his heart. The rest would be easy.