Tears of Red
Itachi opened his eyes, staring into the darkness before him. Everything was silent, and his room was dark. He turned on his back, trying to ease himself to sleep again, but to no avail. He was too distracted to sleep at this point. Sighing, he rubbed his head, irritated, as he guessed it was roughly around three in the morning.
Blinking, he reached blindly for his glasses on the table, knocking a few unknown objects off of the surface. Cursing under his breath, his hand fumbled over them, almost knocking them, too, onto the wooden floor below. He sat up in bed, putting his glasses on, and swung his legs over the edge, flinching slightly as his feet touched to cold floorboards.
By this time, he could make out the dark shapes of furniture in his room, as his eyes had adjusted to the dim light. Trying not to wake his partner, who was sleeping in the bunk above his, he tiptoed to the door, closing it quietly behind him as he left.
He stumbled down the hall, listening to the creaks of the boards as he walked. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he walked into the kitchen, a headache beginning to form. Sighing, he poured himself some water and sat himself in a chair, placing the glass on the table in front of him. Resting his elbows on the table, he rubbed his face, trying to ease the pain of his headache.
He knew what was keeping him awake. Already, it had lost him almost a week's worth of sleep. He couldn't stand it. He didn't even want to think about it, but he couldn't block it. It was almost impossible to block it. He felt warm liquid slide down his cheek, and surprised, he opened his eyes, wiping it away. He examined his finger and murmured a curse under his breath. Blood. It happened every time he thought about it.
Standing up, he walked over to the sink, turning it on, and splashing the warm water over his face. He stood, letting the bloodied water drip off his face, narrowing his eyes. Who ever said villains never cried? Though, he wasn't really a villain… was he? A piercing pain surged through his head into his eye, and he moaned, clasping his hand over his right eye as more blood began to drip from it. The red, sticky substance began to seep through his fingers, and the pain became unbearable. He bit his lip, holding back another groan.
Why… He wondered. Why do you haunt me like this…? He stood up, his hand still clasped over his eye. Sasuke… Itachi staggered to the chair again, leaning his head back. His entire body seemed to know. His eyes had bled for almost a week now. It was soon. He would encounter his brother for the final time so soon. He could feel it. The presence of the battle pressed down on him.
He closed his eyes, letting his memories take him back to before the massacre; before he had even met the bastard that had cursed his entire clan. They had been so happy, Sasuke had been a cute brat at that time, and he had looked up to his older brother as an idle, rather than his worst nemesis. But now… His younger brother hated Itachi. Itachi wanted nothing more than to stop himself from ever listening to Madara.
Uchiha Madara, that bastard. He was the one who had manipulated Itachi like a puppet. Itachi had been nothing more than a young ANBU when Madara had taken advantage of the tension between him and his father. Turning him against his entire village. He was the true murderer… Itachi was only the marionette who Madara had controlled with unguarded strings. And the worst part- it wasn't even Madara's body. Madara had taken the body of a younger Uchiha who he had, according to him, found dying, though Itachi always had his suspicions. It was likely Madara's spirit didn't just stumble upon an Uchiha, he had probably lured the poor kid into a death trap.
Itachi winced as more blood began to seep between his fingers. He could taste the salt as it dripped over his lips, and reached over to a cloth that lay on the table, compressing it against his eye. He didn't want to fight his younger brother. Deep down, he hated himself for what he had done. He would never forgive himself for even trying to follow Madara's footsteps. It was his fault he was one of the most hated nins from Konoha. His fault he was now hunting innocent people, like Naruto, who had lived horrible lives, cursed with the sealed Bijuu.
He hated everything about the Akatsuki. He never even wanted to join it. But Madara had come back to haunt him, to manipulate him and use his powers. The only difference was his changed name- a sick twist of the name of the boy's body he used. And yet, Itachi still somehow found himself under his power again, only this time, in an organization of S-ranked villains such as himself, all seemingly having a past connection to the power-thirsty nin.
And now, he was being forced to face the past he had wanted to forget. That fateful night, when everyone he had ever known died, except, of course, for his brother, was the best example. His best friend's murder the second. He would never be able to forget the look on Shisui's face as he had pushed him underneath the glassy surface of the river. He could never forget how he had felt after killing his best friend, remembering quite well how he himself had looked up to the strong Uchiha. His first real murder.
Itachi pulled the cloth from his head and shakily took a sip of water, noticing his skin had blanched from the loss of blood. He had stopped bleeding for the most part, but a few crops of blood still fell from his eyes, and he knew it wasn't boding well for him.
His thoughts reverted to the upcoming battle. It would be good to see Sasuke again, but he did not know what to do. He wanted his brother to live a long life, and avenge the loved ones so brutally murdered. He just couldn't shake the feeling that he was responsible for his younger brother. He still felt a close connection to Sasuke, even though he knew Sasuke hated him.
He let a small smile slip over his lips. All those times he had teased the little brat… He could remember flicking Sasuke on the head, and ruffling his hair affectionately. He could even hear the young Sasuke shouting out protests as his older brother pulled him into a deadlock, tickling the young boy, promising to train him later. Itachi scowled. His own hunger for power corrupting the close relationship they had had for so long… He would never feel that again. He would never be able to get Sasuke to forgive him; they'd never return to the past. How the past was so bittersweet.
The reunion with Sasuke would be difficult. Though, after thinking about it, Itachi had decided the outcome of the battle. He would easily be able to kill his little brother physically, but he'd have to kill himself afterwards. He would never be able to live knowing he had killed the one he had cared so much about. The one, to this day, he still wanted to protect, his brotherly instinct still strong. He just wished he could have continued being the boy's perfect older brother. The one, as Sasuke had once said, who was "amazing" and "able to beat up any bad guy."
But if he let his little brother kill him… He'd be able to make his little brother happy. Even though he couldn't be the protective older brother that would save Sasuke from danger, he could let himself die, and, in his own way, protect Sasuke from harm. He even knew how to do it. He knew well that if he used Tsukiyomi and Amaterasu, he'd be too weak to continue fighting. It would look like he had actually tried to kill Sasuke, but he'd be able to protect Sasuke from the truth, and the rest of the clan would be avenged.
It would be the perfect ending. He would set right what he did wrong. And Sasuke would finally be satisfied. And that's when Itachi knew what he would do. A flicker of hope seemed to ignite at the thought.
Itachi was distracted from his thoughts as he heard a creak on the floorboards, Kisame appearing in the doorway a moment later.
"Oi, you ok?" Kisame said sleepily, and yawned, showing his sharp teeth. He looked at Itachi's eye, and gasped. "It's happening again?! Why didn't you wake me? You know how dangerous it is to try and treat the eye by yourself! You've already lost a lot of blood! You're lucky-" Itachi raised his hand, cutting in.
"Really, Kisa-san, I'm fine." He then stood, tossing the cloth into the trash and walking over to the sink. He turned on the water and washed the blood off his face. "Now, let's get back to bed. I need to sleep- I know the big battle is coming up soon, and I need all the energy I can get to beat the little brat." Kisame nodded and walked down the hallway with Itachi.
"Ita-sama, you seem dazed, are you ok?" Itachi did not remove his eyes from the floor as he spoke.
"It's nothing, really. I've just been thinking about Sasuke. He really has grown a lot…" Itachi trailed off, and Kisame blinked confusedly. It was the first time he had ever really heard Itachi talk about his little brother, and he could almost hear a hint of brotherly affection in his voice as he spoke. It was almost creepy.
Silence ensued for almost a minute, but Itachi spoke again, in a voice Kisame had never heard. He almost sounded human; speaking lightly, rather than his normal neutral tone.
"It'll be nice to see him, even if it will be my last time doing so…" Kisame looked at Itachi in surprise, only to see something that he had never even believed possible: a smile.
And then, as Kisame watched, he could see tears slide down his cheek. But these were not the tears of blood. They were pure, and not a trace of blood tinted them.
--
Hey guys.
This is a oneshot I did to try and ease a bad case of writer's block. Let me know what you think, ok? Oh, and if any of you were wondering, this is not supporting ItaSasu or ItaKisa. In this story, Itachi and Kisame are supposed to be portrayed as close friends, and Itachi is supposed to seem to have the feelings of an older brother to a younger one when it comes to Sasuke. This is in no way supporting either of those pairings.
Um… can't really say much other than that, or I feel my hand might fall off. I injured it when playing badminton and it hurts to use, but I couldn't resist writing this story. So, please, let me know what you think about this story, and I'll try to reply, but I can't promise anything… My wrist really hurts. –tear-
Inuluvr 3
