A/N

Thank you for taking the time to read this. I hope you find what you were looking for.

The house loomed like a shadow above him, threatening to swallow him up. In the pale moonlight, the place looked ghostly and cold, like the young man's pale hands inside his jacket pockets. A light breeze stirred his hair into his eyes and he brushed it away, the first time he'd moved since his arrival.

Sighing, the young man took a step. And another. They were slow and they were heavy, but there was no turning back. He kept walking, careful to keep his eyes trained on the house for any signs of life.

He winced at the choice of words, but kept going. Distantly, a clap of thunder resonated through the air. The sudden sound startled him, and he lost his focus. He breathed in sharply and lost his footing, falling to his knees. Juvenile tears sprung to his eyes, and he cursed himself. His palms were bleeding, the skin scraped and throbbing. Another clap sounded, closer this time.

He took a deep breath.

He kept going.

He slid his key into the lock and gently pushed the door open. Inside the house was just as ghostly as the outside – immaculate, barely lived in. Of course, it wouldn't look that way for long. The young man shut the door, holding his breath as he waited to be caught, but no one emerged. He was safe.

For now.

Uchiha Itachi climbed up the stairs of his family home, avoiding waves of nostalgia like the plague. He ignored any photographs, refused to look at his bedroom door. The gun in his pocket felt like lead.

Down the hall he walked, cautiously, soundlessly, slowly. Surrounded by the cream-coloured walls he'd spent his life surrounded by, it took all he had not to turn around and tell Sado to find someone else. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't.

Like clockwork, Sado's voice sounded in his head. "Do it painlessly, or I'll do worse."

Itachi took a final deep breath as he came to his parents' room at the end of the hall. He knew Sado, and whatever he had in mind would be a thousand times worse than this. If he had the means, he would kill that bastard with his own two hands. He'd choke him; force the life out of his lungs until he was begging for mercy. That loathsome, disgusting excuse for a human being.

He would do anything to take it all back. The Crimson Fist, starting it all; befriending Sado in the first place. What he wouldn't give for a simple second chance. But Sado was too powerful now, and Itachi would soon be gone. One cold night, a gun, and a thousand wrong decisions had led him here.

There was no turning back.

Itachi quietly opened the door, stepping onto the wooden floor and drawing the gun out of his pocket. His mother's face, so serene in sleep. His father's; frown lines carved into his expression. Together they lay in happiness, having no idea of what their eldest son was about to do.

He gripped the gun tighter, his finger brushing the trigger. A single, solitary tear rolled down his cheek.

"I love you." He whispered, just loud enough for his father's eyes to flutter open. For a second, their eyes met.

And then he fired.

Two blasts, perfectly aimed and shatteringly loud, shot from the barrel of the gun. Itachi's hand trembled in the silence that followed, and the gun fell to the floor. It went off a third time, blasting a hole in his mother's mirror. The glass exploded into a thousand pieces, and it was then that Itachi heard his brother's screams.

He turned to face the doorway, Sasuke's face a picture of pure horror as the wail tore from his mouth. Itachi longed to embrace him, to hold him so that he wouldn't break, but he kept his face expressionless. He had to, he had to.

"Brother, brother!" Sasuke sobbed, throwing himself onto their parents bed, "why are they bleeding so much? What was that sound?" the nine year old screamed, shaking his mother by the shoulders. "Itachi! Help me wake Mom up!"

"Sasuke... I..." Itachi searched for something, anything, to say to his younger brother. The one he loved more than anyone. The one he hoped would never follow in his own footsteps. That's why he had to do this – for Sasuke. His parent's death in exchange for keeping Sasuke out of the Fist. That's all Itachi wanted, and that was how the deal had been made. So long as Sasuke was safe, nothing else mattered.

Even if it meant Sasuke would loathe him for the rest of his life.

"Help me!" Sasuke begged, "Mommy! Dad!"

"They're not going to wake up, brother." Itachi said softly, "They're not going to wake up."

"Why?" Sasuke demanded, angry tears in his eyes. He glared at his brother with such hatred it almost hurt Itachi to see it. "Why?" Sasuke's eyes fell on the gun at Itachi's feet. Even so young, Uchiha Sasuke was not stupid. Disbelief replaced anger, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

"No, no, no, no." He repeated, over and over again, like a mantra.

Itachi couldn't lie. "I love you, little brother. You can never understand."

Sasuke let out an animalistic roar, charging his older brother with everything he had. "You bastard! You bastard!" it was the only curse word Itachi had ever used around Sasuke, and it fit. He deserved worse.

Sasuke scooped the gun up and held it unsteadily in his hands. "I'll shoot you!" he cried, tears streaming down his face.

Itachi barely had the courage to look him in the eye. His brother was not going to be a murderer. Quick as lightning he snapped his fist into Sasuke's face, crushing his nose and knocking him flat onto his back. Sasuke screamed again, a sound of raw pain, before he fell from consciousness. Itachi gingerly held the blood-covered boy close, kissing his forehead.

"I'm so sorry." He said, half to his parents and half to his brother, before leaving Sasuke on the blood-stained floor. He stood up, forced himself to look at what he had just done, and walked out. Walked out of his house, out of his life, out of himself.

Once outside, Uchiha Itachi looked up at the sky.

Like him, it was crying.