You drive me crazy sometimes, you know that...? You make me feel completely insane, so much so that I want to rip my hair out and slit my wrists. You make me feel so insecure most of the time, with how outstanding and irrational you can be. You never fail to shock me with your latest endevor, with what completely rediculous stunt you pull next, with how you'll hurt yourself and I'll feel it reflected on me tenfold. You confuse me with how you could ever possibly make me feel this way. I admit, I am not the most social of creatures, you know. Of course you know. You point it out all of the time. You stress me out to no extent. You make me laugh, cry, smile...you make me so angry, yet so joyful at the same time. It's this neverending melancholy in my heart, it follows the veins up to my brain, and I can't think anymore whenever you're on my mind. Anywhere at all, I'll space out so far, I'll get lost in endless entropy. You make my sight fade and my senses dull every time you're near me. With every stunt you pull, no matter how rediculous, I will always follow you into it. You always drag me into it somehow, and I have to say I really don't mind. You invade my mind, and dig out things I had not known about myself until you told me. You unearthed my buried head, and brought me back into the light. That's why I'm blind, isn't it? With your stupid hair, and your cocky grin, and how you just accept everyone without a single gesture of distaste. You even accept me. Me, whom of which you said was a crazy, antisocial sociopath with whom no one had anything in common with. But it seems, moreover, that we share a single brain. While I say you drive me crazy, you say I drive you crazy. It's a reflection of ourselves in eachother. You're that one piece of me I couldn't break out of my shell. You're that loud, flamboyant, popular boy I wanted to be all my life. You can never leave a problem alone, and make that known. I can only sit back and try and fiddle with it until it comes undone and I've screwed it up for good, and unlike you, I care when I screw things up. I know when I mess things up, and I wish I knew how to make up for it. You do, by saying nothing. On a worst-case scenario, you tend to mutter an apology, crack a joke, and change the subject. You're the first person I ever told-well, you actually found out yourself by prodding in my buisness-that father had abused me or Sasuke. I didn't mind though, at all. He usually focused his attention on me, and I was fine with that. Sasuke was out of harm's way, and I was satisfied. You know it. I would even go out of my way to screw up, just so Father would beat me out of my mind, as you would say it. But you fuel my psychosis. You make me feel light and fluttery, as if on a wing. You make me feel bubbly and happy, as if I were a child again. You make me hear your voice over and over again in my head, make me see you, as you flicker in front of my eyes, so omnipresent, like that of a candle that has been burning all night. It should have gone out by now, but hasn't. You've induced feelings in my I never knew could exist in the human body, in the human mind. You make my mind play tricks on me, you make words make no sense. You confuse me to no extent. You make me feel so alive, yet so numb. You make me actually convey these feelings in words. I think I actually understand now, though. If I couldn't speak clearly, I tried writing it down. When I couldn't hold a pencil correctly, it seems you held my hand steady as I wrote. You wrapped your hand around mine and knew exactly what to write, when to write it. You read my mind, and helped me say what needed to be said. I know I shouldn't have feelings like this, or, really, feelings much anymore, because I'm supposed to be a shinobi. But you're an exceptional Shinobi, and you smile. You smile, you laugh, you get angry, you become weak, you even sometimes cry. I think if I were ever even able to attempt emotions like that, my brain would deteriorate. Yet, only you can make me form the words on this page. You became like an older brother to me. More than that, really. You loved me for who I was so dearly. As if every life I took, every order I followed, every second I gave myself away for the good of someone else never mattered to you. You just made it apparent that you loved me, too. And I think I could understand such a feeling because of that. When I couldn't process thought, when I felt my senses dimming, even as hypersensitive as they were, you thought for me. You processed my thoughts in your head, and you thought it through for me. When I couldn't take it anymore, when I felt like I was about to give up, you reminded me why I'm doing all this. I'm doing it all for Sasuke. I'm trying to ensure that he grows up and becomes greater than anyone could ever imagine. I would like to think that he grows up without a hitch, but that's just dreaming. I personally don't mind that I'm deteriorating, myself. That everything everyone had expected of me is withering away underneath the neverending pressures of being what's expected of me. I'd also like to think Sasuke and I could lead a normal life together, as brothers, as flesh and blood, but there's neverending turbulance in the relationship between Konohagakure and the Uchiha clan. It's not something I can particularly tell you...or I'm proud of. It's something I must do, regrettably. But you probably already know what it is, don't you? You do, but won't say it. You know what must be done. It's just been that really weird connection between us. How you know what I'm thinking before I do. How you can take the words out of my mouth, where they would sound so strange, and let them flow off of your tongue with relative ease, with a dreamy tone that relaxes anyone you speak to. That's what I envy about you, Shisui. You have the dominant psychosis in our Folie a Deux. You know me like the back of your hand. You can see through me as if I've ripped my chest open. And I think I would, if it were for you. Just to save your life. And you would do the same for me, wouldn't you? That's how confusing this whole entire entropy-filled, psychotic relationship we have. And I think, even without reading this, you knew all along what I had wanted to say. Because it isn't really Folie a Deux...you just know me all too well...
-Itachi