Love and hate, they say, are two sides of the same coin.
Itachi begged to differ.
Oh, it was hate that drove him (mumbles those cowardly little psychatrists fools) to kill his family.
Love and hate are seperated by one line.
Ah, now that he disagreed even more.
(He loved them so much that it hurt horribly.)
He didn't know why he disagreed with this two sentences. He just knew that when Kisame brought it up (eyes glinting maliciously), he felt compelled to disagree heartily with these two views. He had spoken more that night than in a year.
(Now he is waiting.)
He had felt particularly compelled to defend his views on these sentences, so plain and so simple. He didn't even know why, that he had ranted so vehemently.
(They say a storm would be coming. Such a cliche. Heh.)
He had pointed out, that to hate someone would mean that he would dislike him, hate him, with all his soul and might. If, of course, he was one of those fool civillians or shinobis. He would find reasons, no matter how small or insignificant, he reasoned, to dislike the person. He would also, given the correct conditions, hurt the person greviously. He would find small things to insult the person, hurt the person.
(Oh, and he is amused, so very, very amused. Kisame fails to see what is so funny.)
Then he had pointed out, that if he loved someone (of course, he had never experienced such a weakling's emotion in his life before), he would strive to protect that particular creature from things that would harm it. He would find ways and means to make the creature happy, feel safe. He would, in short, protect the person. Certainly not hurt it. And this, he pointed out with some relish, was what split love and hate into light and darkness.
(It was always his private thoughts, that love was merely a bunch of chemicals produced by your brain to make you high, of course, Kisame did not agree with that notion.)
But what, Kisame countered, (eyes glinting in the flickering firelight) would darkness be without light? The deepest shadows are created by the brightest light, the same thing plays out for love and hate if you take love as light and hate as shadows. Love, concluded he with a tiny smile, can be easily transmuted into hate. The same thing goes for hate of course, he added.
(He thought so differently of course. He thought love was Mama, love was fluffy kittens, and love was a tap on the head.)
Itachi frowned at that, forehead creasing slightly. But, he murmered (almost to himself), how possibly can hate be turned into love? It is much easier to hate than love. And, he snapped, suddenly realising a flaw in Kisame's reasoning, why would a person hurt the person he or she loves?
(Itachi was forced to contest his love was just drugs thought when his month old cherubic brother "goo-gaa-ed" at him.)
Kisame shrugged. Who knows, he murmered. When that person loves one so much, that he or she would hurt the person to keep the person by their sides forever, he answered quietly as he stared at the fire. Different situations call for different answers, he added.
(Hate, Itachi never knew that, he only knew that when Kisame hated someone, that someone ends up splattered into little stains.)
Itachi returned Kisame's shrug with a steely glare. He honestly disliked being answered with blurry answers, (which probably gave rise to him being one of the best interrogaters) and he was not exactly pleased with this answer, especially on such a subject he felt prompted to disagree on. Would you mind, he returned with a glower (an almost impercitible frown) defining your answer more clearly?
(Itachi knew that in his heart, if he even had one, that Kisame was probably the only person still alive who could know when to leave him alone or bother him with stupid, aimless questions.)
Kisame raised his invisible eyebrows and he replied, pulling his cloak around him absentmindedly as he did so (it was a nasty wind that blows this night) , now that, Itachi-san, is something you would have to find out yourself, braving through countless, daunting tasks as you do so. After all, he continued, with a brief wink, what is the use of discovering the meaning of those two phrases if you don't experience it firsthand?
(When Kisame comes to the inn room smelling of anger and blood, Itachi is the one who goes down to reception and tells them they need to check out now)
Itachi did not reply straight away this time, he instead prods a the crackling fire, watching the twigs snap and shift and shudder. When he does, it sounded as if he picked his words carefully (damn Kisame, always provoking him) , and why, Kisame, would you want me to discover and experience love and hate myself? A shinobi, he recited, voice flat and cold-stone, should never experience unnecessary emotions.
(Dango, still remained one of Itachi's first loves, he was just infuriatingly glad and relieved that Kisame didn't laugh his ass off when Itachi used his remaining coins to purchase a big stick of dango and proceeded to stuff it into his mouth, two at a time.)
Kisame coughed, (quiet and raspy, with a hint of amusement and snigger in it), and he stretched, joints cracking and popping. Well, he muttered, looking pretty much like a particularly sharp-toothed ghoul in the shadowy half-light, you… Ah, rarely enjoy the pleasures of life… Another soft cough. Carnal or otherwise, you don't enjoy life's great gifts, he concluded with another snigger-cough.
(One of Itachi's most humilitating experiences in life was when some big-breasted woman had came up to him and sank his face into her breasts, he was certain he had never reached such high pitches in his vocal range before he met the woman.)
Life's great gifts? Itachi was certain he had never heard life described in such a manner, being around with depressing, suicidal shinobi in his childhood rarely allowed him to hear such phrases. Carnal pleasures… He murmered feebly, well… I'm not a virgin. (fleet and shadow-light, his face had paled visibly when his mouth uttered that sentence) He coughed, imitating Kisame as he mumbled, I, ah, am not… His voice trailed off and he huddled into the cloak, growling as he failed to arrange words in a coherent order.
(A jerking of hips, an unsatisfied woman and a knife through soft flesh was his first stained bed.)
Kisame opened his shark eyes and stared at him. I don't recall mine insulting you of your manhood… He coughed again. (a enormous smirk visible through the shadows), if you do want me to insult it… Well. Kisame was savouring life's sweet blood now. Damn, but humilitating the great Uchiha Itachi is so fun.
(Itachi hates being insulted.)
I know almost every author has done this type of things before, begged for reviews. Well. I'm no different.