Decision
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He's a stranger to some
And a vision to none
He can never get enough,
Get enough of the one
Itachi didn't try to linger on the way life screwed him over, but sometimes it was hard not to. For example, whenever there was a full moon, shining brightly and luminously down into his window, he would be reminded of the traitorous things he'd done as a teenager. He would see the way his family's eyes glared at him with a betrayed anger before his sword destroyed them. He would hear the pleas of his mother, the screams of the smaller children as they died. Lastly, he would see the pain and rage in his younger brother's eyes as he crumpled to the ground, unable to take the reality thrown at him.
Ad whenever he laid hands on the katana hidden in his room, all of the vivid memories would come rushing back as a river breaking free from the dam. The hoarse screaming, the blood spatters across his clothing, skin, face, the men and women who dared fight back in the face of death. It was as if the decision had been made only yesterday.
For a fortune he'd quit
But it's hard to admit
How it ends and begins
On his face is a map of the world
(A map of the world)
On his face is a map of the world
(A map of the world)
He didn't pretend it didn't happen. How could he? His entire clan, his entire family, had perished by his own hand. The memories would be the dirge playing at his funeral, just as they had since he was a mere child. Never would he be able to banish the experience from his mind.
On a mountain he sits, not of gold but of sin
through the blood he can look, see the life that he took
From the council of one
He'll decide what he's done with the innocent
For years he had pondered whether or not it was the right choice. It was –possibly – the only thing keeping him sane. In his own mind, he played the scenes leading up to his own personal D-Day, destroying everything he'd come to know and love. It had only taken four people, in which he'd placed all trust in, to twist what he grew up in enough to annihilate an entire family.
Often he'd wondered what would have happened if he'd disagreed. Of course a war would have broken out. The bloodiest of all, perhaps. Other countries would take sides. They would strike, tearing down everything and killing the innocents. It was his family, or the entire population of Japan. The weight of his decision had scared him.
From yesterday, it's coming!
From yesterday, the fear!
From yesterday, it calls him
But he doesn't want to read the message
He doesn't want to read the message
Doesn't want to read the message here
So he supposes, maybe, he's the hero. No, not the hero. The anti-hero. Maybe no one knew it, and maybe his brother, his home, saw him as the criminal he'd been branded. But they were alive, and that's all that really mattered to him.
As long as his decision had been right, he could sleep peacefully.
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I have no idea what this is, don't even ask. I was listening to 'From Yesterday' by 30 Seconds to Mars as I wrote. Check it out, they're great.
Peace. :)