Darkness Descends

Prologue

It was a cold morning, just like any other. The winter was cruel to me this year. It had been cruel every year, for as long as I could remember. It was my most dreaded season; where the days were cut to a dismal shortness as the nights grew, instead, with a dangerous longing. If it wasn't the constant darkness I desperately sought salvation from, it was him.

My vision was torn between staring out at the dirty sea-blue sky as it unleashed its lamented fury, or with a hint of vague sympathy, gaze upon the tears of rain that landed on the apathetic glass of the half open window. I sat in this ceaseless state of wonder, basking in the morbidity the watery descent graced me with; briefly wondering if the small, insignificantly short-lived droplets of water held some form of sympathy towards me. Not that I cared at all; I didn't. But, did the sky know of the pain I suffered when it was so visibly ready to shower me with all it had? I could never be sure; the rain was something that would forever remain an enigma, even to I, who had spent the worst, yet longest half of my life just watching.

I gazed at my reflection through the almost perfectly transparent glass of the tear stained window. The glass was marred only by that of a single, simple scratch that to anyone else, would look as though my face was torn, only I instead, was met by an unusual paleness to gaunt, drawn features. I had seen better days, I thought, before adding a frown to my broken reflection.

And I had also seen worse.

Feeling a dreadfully familiar presence hover behind me, I shifted my gaze with a guarded caution, though not turning fully to regard the figure. Instead, I tried to ignore it. At this point though, all thoughts of the rain and its mysteries eluded me.

"You shouldn't sit by the window with nothing on Sasuke, you'll catch a cold." I wasn't sure if it was the warm tone of my brother that fell by my ears that made me shiver, or the icy coldness of the breeze the sombre morning greeted me with. The sudden familiarity of the deceptively safe, calm and warming touch of calloused fingers on my shoulders enveloped me in this false sense of security I used to bask in so much as a child, only back then, it hadn't been false; not at all. "I'll go get you a blanket" Itachi squeezed my shoulders lightly, a comforting brotherly gesture it had meant to be, but the burning warmth of his fingers cut into my skin like poisonous blades; stinging even after his lingering touch grew absent.
Itachi always tried to treat me as though I were precious to him, special... It made me feel... a very lonesome sadness, one that reached to the very core of all that made me who I am.

I let the gentle howling of the wind calm the impulses that were screaming at me to do everything and anything to escape while I could, anything before I fell back into those fiery clutches, anything before the harsh of night could fall.

Calm down Sasuke, calm down. It isn't time yet, you're still safe.

Emptying my mind of all the crude, tormenting possibilities, I breathed a sigh of relief. There was nothing to worry about yet, it was too early. I could never be fully relieved though, for the light would always shed way to the darkest darkness.

"Thank you" I managed to murmur, as I relaxed into the warmth the thin blanket being draped across my shoulders offered me. I huddled into its welcoming softness, pulling the fabric tightly around me, as though it were imbued with some kind of enchantment, a protective incantation that not even the greatest of evil could penetrate. It was the same blanket Itachi bestowed me with as a child; the one such darkness could not perforate. It made me laugh, how we as humans sought comfort in the most inanimate, and powerless of objects, and idea of sentiment really does stop us letting go of such things. In reality, this blanket, this old, mere keepsake of mine, could do nothing to protect me. The illusion of safety was just a sick form of some psychological defence mechanism I could never understand. Yet even to this day, it still worked, if only a little. Though, this blanket now, only held for me the harshest of memories, tormenting me with the innocent image of the brother that would never hurt me.

Change is hard; harder than we'd like to admit.

Itachi stood there beside me for a long while; neither of us spoke a word. It had seemed like a life time that we both shared that rare state of companionable silence that was so hard to come by in the world of today. We both shared the sentiments the rain held, it was evident as our gazes remained unmoved, entranced by the performance nature put on. Even someone like Itachi could be mesmerised by the whispers of the rain, and the secrets they held. At times like these, I would thoughtfully whisper my own fearful secrets back, longing for the same salvation the crystalline raindrops sought in their downfall. I too wanted to escape this black cloud I was engulfed in, yet my cloud; it had no means of escape... none whatsoever.

While the silence remained somewhat companionable, the atmosphere however, held that of an uneasy and tense air, though I was sure I was the only one who could feel it. It was clawing at me, threatening me, persistent tendrils forcing, begging me to move, to run. I had always been good at running, yet it was my escape that had always been flawed, always unsuccessful to an irritatingly unlucky degree. This urgent feeling that was constantly nagging at me; it had all but felt like a natural instinct now though.

Almost without noticing, Itachi had left as silent as he came along, and with that, so did the unease as it drained from my body like water being sucked down the plug hole. The relentlessness of the pressure weighing down on me finally dissipated, and with another sigh, I tried to relax once more, albeit unsuccessfully.

Always unsuccessfully.

Itachi knew there was something bothering me; I had an inkling. I could feel the frustration and confusion radiating off of him in waves. He never said anything, and I could do nothing but absorb the irksome feeling. Perhaps he knew exactly what it was... Perhaps. What would it do to him if he truly knew all that occurred in the darkest, coldest hours of the night? Would he care? Would he deny it? I didn't know the answers, but deep down inside, I was sure Itachi cared, even if it was just an ounce, and even if he didn't know what was going on, not really. If he were to ask me something about it, what exactly would I tell him? Nothing probably, I wouldn't want to burden my brother.

I would never want to do something like that.

While Sasuke had grown up loving the rain, as he was almost certain each drop shared his pain, that the sky pitied him enough to shed a million tears. What Sasuke would never admit however, was his distinct loathing of the rain, as it reminded him of all the hardship he endured, all the pain.

It reminded him of the memories he most longed to forget.