Itachi was six years old when he first fell in love. Truthfully, at six, he didn't really understand what love was - the sensation was more akin to infatuation - but when he watched Shisui skimming gracefully through the air as he sparred with Itachi's father, something funny swelled in his chest and lodged beneath his breastbone, so warm and full he thought he might float away. Shisui was several years his senior, already a chunin and the pride of the clan, though Itachi was on the brink of graduating from the Academy at an astonishingly young age, even for an Uchiha. Fugaku understood Shisui's capabilities well; he had already decided that he would use his nephew's burgeoning talents to his advantage, namely to make an early impression on Itachi. So, on a bright summer morning, Itachi sat cross-legged on the warm packed earth of the Uchiha sparring grounds, watching Shisui dodge glinting kunai and Fugaku's scorching phoenix-flame with the liquid finesse of an acrobat. It was then that Itachi realized a battle was like a finely orchestrated dance and Shisui was its principal. The exchange was the most beautiful thing Itachi had ever seen, so dangerously elegant he held his breath for fear of disturbing the perilous choreography unfolding before his eyes.
Years later, as he stood over Shisui's prone body, the world awash in the red monochrome of the Mangekyou, he couldn't help but think he exhaled too soon.