Parasite
By TwinEnigma
Warnings: Spoilers for 397.
Characters: Itachi, Sasuke
Disclaimer - I don't own the series or characters.
Itachi was a genius.
His chakra was dangerously low, the phantom armor would soon fade, and his dimming eyes burned with blood, strained to their limits. Each step forward was a fight against leaden limbs that grew heavier by the moment. Never before had a few feet been such an insurmountable gap, but he made himself press forward, step by step, until at last he was in front of his brother, his light. His arm resisted being raised – it was so heavy, but that soon wouldn't be a problem anymore.
He distantly felt his fingertips hit their target and he was gone.
Sasuke lay on the floor of Madara's hideout, unable to sleep but unwilling to speak with his host. His bones and muscles ached uncomfortably, heavy with exhaustion, and the previous discussion with his host had left an unpleasant aftertaste in the boy. He didn't want to think about his brother's motives and, instead, focused on the itching in his left eye and the bewildering black fire of Ameratsu that had appeared.
It felt wrong, somehow, on a fundamental level.
Sasuke's left eye itched again and he resisted the urge to rub it, frowning. It didn't make sense. Itachi hoarded his power in his insanity and would have killed to keep it, but then he'd poked him on the forehead, just like when they were young, as if it were all a training game, and simply fell down dead.
It was unacceptable, Sasuke decided, rolling onto his side. Itachi could not have, should not have just up and dropped dead like that. There was no way it was that simple. His older brother had countered everything he'd thrown at him, only to die like foolish genin from severe chakra exhaustion. It seemed... completely out of character with all he'd come to expect from his psychotic older brother.
What was the old adage again?
Look underneath the underneath, ah, yes. That's what he'd have to do. There was clearly more going on that meets the eye and, until he uncovered exactly what was going on, he'd have to spare Madara.
His eye itched again and he rubbed it absently, bits of dried blood cracking and flaking off his cheek and eyelid as he rubbed.
He really needed to get cleaned up.
Sasuke scanned the room, finally finding a small bowl of clean water and what appeared to be fresh bandages on a crate. Wincing at each movement, he stiffly dragged himself to the crate, tore off some of the bandages, and began to wash the blood and grime off his face.
A flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye brought his head around in a flash, only to see his own reflection in a mirror, half covered in shadow from the dim candlelight. He snorted, chiding himself for being scared of his own reflection in a bit of glass. Still, he reached out and took it; his weapons were nowhere in sight, so he would have to improvise. The mirror would do nicely, he decided.
And then he stopped, staring into the glass in dawning horror.
Illuminated by reflected candlelight at last, Itachi stared out of the left side of his face, the corner of his lips turned up in a devilish smirk. Their mouth moved: "Hello, little brother."
Sasuke shrieked and threw the mirror away from himself as hard as he could, scuttling backwards across the floor until he was as far from the now shattered mirror as possible.
Laughter erupted from Sasuke's lips. "Foolish little brother, don't you remember? I told you – you're my new light."
Sasuke clapped his hands over his mouth in horror.
Itachi was a genius.
AN: Bloody muse wouldn't shut up until this was written, but hey, how's about that? Power transfer, indeed.