I own nothing.
No More Sorrow
The first clue was not the descending darkness that was closing in on him, or the muffled sounds of the this world as his hearing left him; rather, it was the rapidly fading pain that left him numb and tingling all over. After all, death wasn't supposed to hurt, right?
Sasuke had never been much afraid of death. Most shinobi weren't, but there were a few exceptions – like Orochimaru. After leaving Konoha for the Sannin's tutelage, Sasuke had been surprised at Orochimaru's level of fear. He was so powerful, yet so afraid, comically so. It was what drove his ambition and experiments. He did everything in order to escape death. Now, stuck somewhere between worlds, Sasuke wondered if Orochimaru had ever come this close to death.
Because despite being steadfast his entire life, Sasuke was afraid now.
This state of unknowing was eating at his already deteriorating mind. He had been fighting like a madman, emboldened by the hate and adrenaline in his veins. Sakura was crying – probably over the change he had undergone – and Kakashi had dutifully stepped aside, standing alert on the sidelines waiting for a signal to act. But Naruto . . .
Naruto. Naruto had gazed on him with hard, determined eyes, sorrow and disappointment etched on his whiskered face. Because he had failed; failed to rescue his once best friend from his downward spiral – one of Sasuke's own choosing.
Sasuke wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. Sakura hadn't been the only one to predict the misfortune of his revenge, his dissatisfaction. And he had shrugged those thoughts aside; it wasn't about his own happiness, it was about justice and vengeance and doing right by his long-gone clan.
Of course, no one could have guessed that Itachi was just following orders. No, more than that, he had prevented war, both civil and worldly. And after that, he had dedicated his life to the bettering of the younger brother he couldn't bring himself to kill.
It made Sasuke sick.
He couldn't stop the memories flashing by in his head, just as real as the day he had lived them. Itachi carrying him, Itachi running to his room when he had a nightmare, Itachi helping him with his shuriken, Itachi bandaging his wounded ankle, Itachi fighting for his favor against their father . . . Itachi ignoring him, Itachi pulling away, Itachi growing quieter, Itachi disappearing in the middle of the night . . . Itachi poking his forehead, saying, "Sorry, Sasuke . . ."
When Sasuke was left alone after his talk with Madara, he couldn't keep down the bile. It rose, hot and acid in his throat, burning every part of him it touched until it was the only thing he was aware of. Vile and raw, acrid and vicious.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't do what Itachi wanted, couldn't be the shinobi Itachi was: perfect, emotionless, 100 percent accurate. He couldn't, wouldn't, bury his hatred, his growing insanity. He couldn't be the selfless person his brother had been. Konoha would pay, and pay dearly, for what they had done to his clan, to him, to Itachi! If he didn't act, Sasuke wouldn't be able to live with himself.
Ironically, after everything he had now done, Sasuke couldn't live with himself. All that he had done, all the people he hurt and killed . . . At the meeting of the Kages, against Danzou, against Karin, and Suigetsu, and Juugo . . .
And Kakashi and Sakura and Naruto.
But he couldn't stop. He didn't want to. For the second time in the last ten minutes, he tried to kill Sakura. Sakura, who had always loved him and had stated over and over again that she would do anything for him. Even as she came to kill him, he knew he deserved it. But not even she could stop his revenge.
Itachi would be so ashamed of him.
"Sasuke." Sasuke jerked into alertness, hovering uneasily in the black atmosphere around him. There was no doubt, now, that he was dying.
He was not far away, standing comfortably on something or other, not glowing or lit up amidst the darkness, but just clear. Despite Sasuke's failing vision, his brother appeared neither fuzzy nor dull, without blemish or sin. He wasn't wearing the Akatsuki cloak Sasuke had come to associate him with, or the ring that had sat on his right hand for so long. His forehead protector was nonexistent, and his Sharingan was absent.
He looked so much like the Itachi of his childhood it made him want to cry. Sasuke was at a loss for words, mouth hanging open foolishly. But what was he supposed to do? Here stood the brother he had always looked up to, that (for all intents and purposes) destroyed his life, only to find out too late that he had always cared. How should he respond?
"I – Ita –" Sasuke tried to say his name, but he choked, and it came out more as warbled gargle.
"This isn't what I wanted," he says, voice unchanging, no flicker of emotion across his face. Sasuke finds it reasonable to assume that this is just the beginning of his eternal damnation – he does deserve it. Again, Sasuke tries to speak, but finds it an impossible feat at this point. "I though it made it clear when I chose Konoha over the clan. I was trying to avoid a war, not start one."
Sasuke's shame grows exponentially, and he wants to curl into himself, wants to go back to the time when he could fall into his brother's arms for comfort. But that time is long gone. Finally, he finds his voice.
"How . . . . How could you do it? How could you kill them all, and leave me behind?" He whimpers, pathetic like an abused dog. Something about Itachi's eyes soften, though there is no obvious change to them.
"I wish it could have been different, Sasuke. But I can't change the way things were," he responds, and suddenly he seems so much closer, but he hasn't moved his feet. "I had to make a decision, and I did what I thought was best considering the situation. And my plan would have been perfect, had you done what I asked."
"I couldn't do that!" Sasuke explodes, suddenly empowered by anger. "I couldn't just let them get away with destroying our lives! Our whole clan is dead! You had to live as a missing-nin, a criminal, even though you were just following orders! And I have lived my entire life in loneliness! And all the while, the elders live without justice! I can't be you, Itachi!" Sasuke heaves with the weight of his outburst, and Itachi just looks on calmly.
"I would never want to put you in a situation where you would have to make a decision like I did. But life is not that simple."
There is a long pause in which Sasuke doesn't know what to say, but he can't look away from his dead brother.
"You're dying, you know," Itachi says softly. Sasuke gives a rough jerk of his head. "Before we fought, I spoke to Naruto. You should know that he's only doing what I asked of him."
Sasuke flinches, his shoulders tensing. "You told him to kill me?" He whispers, disbelieving. "After everything you did to protect me, you told him to kill me?"
Itachi nods, and he seems sadder than Sasuke remembers. "I wanted him to be prepared in the event that you responded like this. You set yourself on a path that could not end well. Killing the members of the council would not have made you happy, Sasuke."
"Happiness is for fools," Sasuke scoffs. "I gave up happiness a long time ago, when you killed our family." He wants Itachi to react, to respond to his taunt, but he doesn't.
"You still don't understand," Itachi says with an annoying amount of patience. "I want you to be happy, Sasuke, always. You spoke of loneliness. I knew that if you decided to attack Konoha, you would live out the rest of your existence completely alone." Itachi seems much closer now, within reach.
"Would you not rather spend eternity with me?"
Sasuke gasps, cannot breath, and his eyes sting. He wants to back away, gain a little more power over his brother, but he cannot move. Hot tears are falling, etching trails onto his cheeks, and he is reminded of his talk with Madara.
"Even in death you're still acting only for me," Sasuke chokes out, eyes staring at their feet, so close together. He feels like a little boy again, stupid and irrational and immature. Some part of him aches so badly with the weight of his sorrow, and another part is so ashamed that while he selfishly tried to kill the elders for his own benefit, Itachi had never done anything for himself. He can barely even handle it.
Itachi places a hand on his shoulder, holding him tightly there. "There is nothing that can hurt you here, Sasuke. No elders, no Akatsuki, no Orochimaru or Madara . . ." His other hand tips Sasuke's chin to look him in the eye. "For the first time in your life, don't you just want to be happy?"
Sasuke fell against his brother, firm and material, and there, and the dam that kept his emotions at bay collapsed with him. Itachi wrapped his arms around his shoulders, holding him to him and supporting his weight as Sasuke cried out with the pain that had enveloped his life for ten years.
And when he had no more tears, he still held on to his brother, for fear that he would disappear if he let go. Time doesn't really exist in death, but nonetheless it took a while for Sasuke to relax within his brother's embrace. There was no more panic or desperation, or fear, or sorrow. Instead, it felt relaxing, nostalgic, like home. And with his face buried in Itachi's shirt, Sasuke smiled.
