Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. If I did, Itachi would still be alive.
A/N: Dedicated to all the fans of Itachi, Sasuke, and Mikoto.
–inner struggle- …Okay; to all the fans of Fugaku, too. (Sorry; I just don't like him..)
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Pain: Uchiha Itachi
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Six Years Ago
"Itachi! W-what are you doing?!"
It's the first time he's ever heard anything remotely resembling fear in his father's voice. His mother enters the room, a crease in her face showing her worry. "What's going-Itachi? What's wrong?"
Her tone is so sweet, so loving, so motherly.
God, why do I have to do this?!
He forces himself to remember the mission. If an uprising takes place, another Ninja War could very well follow. Logically, what's worth more-the lives of an entire small clan, or the lives of millions of innocents that could be lost in a full-scale war?
That's what the elders had pounded into his head. He had made it his reality, his truth. If he didn't, then he could never carry out his duty.
He had known since he was old enough to understand the word 'death' that he would one day become a shinobi. And as a shinobi, he would probably kill many people. He had accepted that. Each mission was like a small war; enemies had to die or he would. It was just a fact of life.
But he had never thought that one day, the enemies he had to kill would be his own family.
Never mind what had happened to Shisui. He could never forget that.
He swallows hard. He can't show his emotions. He needs to shut them away; lock them in a box and destroy the key. He'll never get through this if he allows memories or love interfere with his duty.
"You planned a revolt against the elders of Konohagakure," he says in a surprisingly cool-sounding voice. He's been reciting these words in his head for weeks. "The ANBU and the elders have caught on to you."
"Dear?" Mikoto asks, confused, turning to her white-faced husband. The older man shakes his head nervously. Mikoto's eyebrows crinkle together as she worriedly pieces the puzzle together.
Horrified understanding plays across her face. "Uchiha Fugaku," she chokes out in a tortured tone. "You did not." Nobody answers her. A small moan escapes her lips, and she sinks to the floor in shock.
The prodigy continues. "They have decided that you are too dangerous to be left alive. Your execution will be carried out immediately."
Mikoto is shaking her head frantically, raven-blue hair whipping back and forth. She says without words, No. No, this can't be true. There is some mistake.
I'm sorry, Mother. I wish it was a mistake.
Fukagu's expression is unreadable. "And the executioner?" he inquires numbly.
This is the moment he dreaded. "Me. Uchiha Itachi."
Mikoto cries out. Fugaku closes his eyes, because to show tears would be the utmost shame of a proud shinobi.
Mother. Father. I'm so sorry…Please forgive me! I don't want to have to do this! I'm sorry!
He can't say it aloud, and that kills him. Because they will never know.
Silence. Then, quick death. Swift, clean, and stealthy, as is the way of the ninja.
Slice.
Slice.
I'm sorry.
I'M SORRY!!
In seconds, they are both dead. Gone forever. He has murdered his own parents.
He lays their bodies together, unable to deny them that one small kindness. Fugaku looks more at peace now than he ever did in life; in contrast, Mikoto's face speaks of a terrible nightmare that she prayed she would soon wake from. Sadness and weariness, shock that the bringer of death was her own son. Silent screams.
The inner agony is beyond anything he could have ever imagined.
What have I done?!
He can't linger, lost in that one thought. Because there are footsteps in the house. The final and worst part of his personal hell is rapidly approaching, by way of a small boy-one Uchiha Sasuke. The brother of a self-proclaimed demon.
Oh, God…
The door opens.
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Three Years Ago
It's been a while since that fateful day when, at the tender age of thirteen, he slaughtered his own family and earned his beloved little brothers' everlasting hatred.
That brother stands before him once again, but this time, he's completely different. Full of hate, and burning to kill.
No, wait. He's not all that different. Still the same scared, miserable little boy. But those emotions are hidden beneath a thick mask of fury, fire and ice.
The 'fight' is brief. He has an easier time withholding his feelings now, after three years of practice. Still, with every hit he lands, every spurt of blood out of his precious brother's mouth…
I'm sorry.
Over and over, he says it silently. Cries inside as he has done so many times before.
And when he uses Mangekyo Sharingan on Sasuke, replaying their clan's death-their parent's death-well, that is excruciating.
When he and his companion retreat, old wounds return with a vengeance. Bleeding everywhere, but there's no sign of red. It hurts so bad.
But still..
"You okay?" Kisame asks with a hint of concern.
He is an Uchiha. He will be strong. It's the only consolation he can offer his clan.
"I'm fine."
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Now
At last, it's ending.
Blood is everywhere; no illusion this time. The fight, the hate, the path of revenge, the regret-all of it is about to come to an abrupt halt.
He uses the last of his strength to drag himself over to his brother. His vision is starting to fade out.
He raises two fingers and jabs the younger boy in the forehead. Just like the old days.
And, for the first time in so long, he musters up the most genuine smile he can. None of the bittersweet thoughts swirling around in his head make it into that beautiful smile.
Sorry, Sasuke.
There won't be a next time.
He falls.
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Pain means different things to different people.
Having to kill your best friend, the person you loved.
Having to murder your own family in cold blood.
Having to torture your brother.
Watching that brother grow up wasting his life on hatred, never knowing that his aniki still cared deeply for him.
Not knowing what would happen next in Sasuke's miserable life, but knowing you wouldn't be there to help him.
For Uchiha Itachi, that was pain.
Part One:
End
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A/N:…Yikes. That was kind of…bad, wasn't it? Gomenasai…-.-;;
I'm still probably going to add a chapter on Sasuke, tho'. I hope.
Thanks for reading. -SS