For those who haven't read my first fanfic, I wrote in totally different style for this one. I'm trying different sentence structures and wordings to see what works and what doesn't. Tell me if you prefer the first (flowing and smooth) or this (more jagged and simplisitic).
Itachi has always been the good guy that was suffering in silence for too long! People just don't appreciate good deeds anymore (e.g. Sasuke).
It starts off as a small cough. Itachi barely notices. He thinks it is a result of the cold of the Hidden Mist Village, where he is currently stationed with Kisame, carefully tailing the 6-tailed jinchuuriki. Itachi has never taken well to cold places, and he shrugs it off as a temporary illness.
It is one day when the some Mist ANBU shinobi discover them, that Itachi and Kisame are forced to flee. They scatter like fallen leaves, fleeing through the lush canopy, with the Mist nin close in pursuit. Itachi dodges a multitude of glittering kunai, centimeters from his face. He attempts various small genjutsu, but ANBU are not so easily fooled. They tail the Akatsuki pair relentlessly, hot on their heels, spitting out water jutsu with ferocious agility.
That is when Itachi notices something odd: he can't catch his breath. There is a stitch in his side. His lungs heave with effort to circulate oxygen, and his head is slightly spinning, sending the misty green world into a dizzying circle.
He halts on the next branch and inhales deeply, trying to suppress his quaking limbs.
Ahead, Kisame stops as well and turns." "Itachi-san what the hell—"
"Ametarasu."
It is devastatingly effective. All four shinobi of the Mist are caught in the perpetual heat of the flames and they burn to a fine dust under Itachi's Mangekyou Sharingan.
"What happened to stealth, Itachi-san?" Kisame doubles back and stands on the same tree branch as Itachi. They watch the smoldering remains. "Now the Mist will surely know we are here. Nobody in that village has fire jutsu like this."
"It was necessary." Itachi closes his eyes against a brief spasm of pain, the price of the Mangekyou. "We will just find the jinchuuriki another way."
He leaps away and Kisame is forced to follow.
It gets worse. Itachi spends most of his nights coughing now, depriving him of sleep. The pair is taking shelter in the dense forest between the Fire Country and Water Country. Occasionally, Kisame would shoot him a glance, but say nothing.
Itachi prefers it this way.
Though neither of them is surprised when one day, Itachi doubles over and hacks up scarlet blood into his hands.
Kisame presses him to stop at the next village and see a medic nin. "Itachi-san, you really shouldn't overtax your body like this."
Itachi glances up at his partner. "Your concern is admirable, Kisame, but this cough will go away in time."
"Like it has for the last 3 months? Shit, Itachi—you need to see a doctor—"
"I am not accustomed to the cold." Itachi pulls his Akatsuki cloak tighter around him. "Once we leave, I will get better."
Eventually however, Itachi gives into Kisame's insistences and they make their way to a small building several villagers had pointed out. A retired medic nin and her apprentice live over that way, they had said.
It is a humble abode cloaked in emerald ivy. The doorframe is so small Kisame is forced to duck his head in order to enter. A child of thirteen greets the pair; she is dressed in a modest white dress. The girl shyly gestures them into a cozy waiting room with a roaring fire and departs.
Itachi stands as close to the warmth of the flickering flames as possible with eyes half-lidded. Fatigue presses down upon him and the wavering light throws the shadows underneath his eyes, a souvenir from months of sleepless nights, into sharp relief.
Kisame glances at him in mild concern.
It is some time before a motherly old lady stooped with age enters the room.
"Hello," she smiles; her wrinkles fold into themselves like paper. "And who am I seeing today?"
"That would be me." Itachi steps forward.
"Well then. If you could just lie down on this cot," she gestures to a small bed tucked in the corner of the room. "I'll just check your symptoms first."
She runs some basic scans on him with chakra-enhanced hands, prodding several places along Itachi's chest. Then she widens the chakra so it forms a large dome over the whole of Itachi's torso. It is finished in a relatively short amount of time. The old lady frowns; she has never sensed lungs like Itachi's before. They seemed to be slowly deteriorating, she explains. If Itachi would stay, she could run more extensive tests and perhaps come up with a more concrete diagnosis.
Itachi politely refuses, hinting at a tight schedule. Behind him, Kisame resists the urge to roll his eyes. Always the prick about missions. The young apprentice prepares some herbs for Itachi under the aged medic nin's watch. Take the leafy herbs with breakfast, the old lady instructs. Save the brown pills for dinner. And slather this cream onto the chest at night. Itachi nods and the teen shows the pair to the door. They depart, Itachi's bag heavy with medicine.
For a time, it gets better. But slowly and surely, the symptoms worsen. Itachi is hacking up blood every week. He returns to the medic nin's office and is given more medicine, though each time, the medicine is accompanied with dire warnings that Itachi needs hospitalization, and not just herbs. He says nothing, only depositing money in the young girl's hands before departing. And each time, after issuing the warnings, the old lady watches the young man depart with worried eyes.
Nowadays, Itachi barely sleeps at night. Kisame has lent him his cloak to be used as a blanket, but even with the extra layer, his bones ache with the wintry cold. He curls upon himself under the black fabric, holding his lungs, gasping for air, and dripping blood between his fingers. In the darkness, Itachi can feel Uchiha Madara's Sharingan spinning.
In the morning, Kisame leaves to fetch the Yonbi. Itachi stays behind, only opening his eyes at the sound of an inert body hitting the floor behind him, accompanied with Kisame's heavy footsteps.
Not much later, Itachi and Kisame are watching Sasuke and his 4-man squad racing through the undergrowth of a jungle.
"Kisame." The latter turns. "Delay the others for me. I wish to confront Sasuke alone."
"Ahh, but Itachi-san. What use are your otoutou's eyes if you are in no condition to use them?"
Itachi sighs. "It will all become clear soon enough."
"Don't you need my help to take him down? He killed Diedara—though the idiot may have just blown himself up—" Kisame strokes his Samehada with unreserved hunger. Doubtlessly the greedy sword craves the chakra of the cursed seal.
"That will not be necessary Kisame. As I said, I wish for the confrontation to be private."
Itachi stumbles forward, blind and exhausted. He reaches blindly, scarcely sensing the presence of the equally drained Sasuke. His otouto has battled fiercely, but sadly, Itachi could easily trump him if he actually tried. But unlike Sasuke, he has a charade to keep. And unlike Sasuke, he needs to complete one last task before dying.
He is truly spent. Every scrap of energy has been directed to his two fingers and to power his trembling legs.
Itachi is tired, so extremely, tired. He welcomes death with beckoning arms—anything to end the smoldering pain in his eyes and chest. Sasuke is hyperventilating in terrified spurts; Itachi smiles because he knows he is close. His otouto is trapped between him and the wall. Two exhausted fingers lightly skip across Sasuke's forward and Itachi whispers his last words: "Forgive me Sasuke, this is the last time."
He pitches forward into the welcoming darkness. It envelops his entire being and spirits him away into a blissful oblivion.
"Is he…dead?"
"Just about."
"…I don't understand…"
"Neither do I."
The pair stares down at the inert figure. Itachi's hair is messily splayed out behind him, some strands falling out of his hair tie.
Tsunade turns. "Alert me if he wakes from his coma. We have a lot of questions to ask him."
"Yes, Tsunade-sama." Shizune turns back towards the prone figure lying in the hospital bed. Itachi's chests rises and falls weakly, in time with the beeping monitor. The short-haired kuniochi settles into a chair and prepares herself for a long, sleepless night.
I know, the ending was a bit unexpected right? well, if reviews are good, I will add more chapters. I really don't like having Itachi die.