Chapter Four
Plasma Grenades and Paint Thinner

"If a man harbours any sort of fear, it percolates through all thinking, damages his personality and makes him a landlord to a ghost."
Lloyd Douglass


Sasuke really hated Halo, which was why he was confused as to why he was playing it.

They had been going at it for hours by that point, happily bellowing at the television as they ploughed their way through Sniper in Sasuke's game room. Through the audio of the telly, he could hear all the enemy players shouting just as loudly as his two team-mates beside him, all of them demanding retribution and trying to devise strategy while in the middle of being picked off (although they didn't know that they were being peeped on, because people weren't supposed to be able to hear the opposite team's dialogue...). Of course, between Sasuke, Naruto, and Sakura against a team of seven they were doing pretty damn good, owning the other team ten to one, but any kill that came down was a problem that could be improved through dedication to being a sheltered nerd for the rest of his or her life. Which, obviously, was the plan and all.

Still...

"What in the fuck is our life?"

Naruto and Sakura laughed, eyes still trained on the video screens in front of them as they double-teamed against a douchebag on the red team. When the idiot went down thanks to a clone and a plasma grenade, Sakura glanced over once and said, "Our life is nothing except kicking arse and taking names. Duh. Who do you think you are, Sasuke-kun?"

"Don't call me that," Sasuke said, not for the first time. He knew that it wouldn't have done any good regardless, because Sakura was always polite as was her best friend the blond freak, and he would just have to learn to ignore it. He continued immediately, "My life is full of epic gaming, bullshitting with nerds, and spending time with my brother. Oh yeah, and food. Food is good."

"You're lame, Sauce-Gay," muttered Naruto before letting off a stream of profanity as a huge surge of their enemies threatened to overwhelm their merry-ish group of three. Then, when the three of them had all but annihilated the losers in the game, he said, "Y'know, since you don't eat sweets and won't drink Dew."

"Sorry that I'm not a stereotypical nerd, freak," shot back Sasuke, but there wasn't much bite in it. Funny how an epic kill with a plasma grenade during Sniper of all things could dim down the antagonism. Especially since Sasuke kinda liked the guy by that point anyway. Not that Sasuke would ever admit it.

Sakura snorted loudly and rather unladylike and took out a high-riser, eyes flicking towards the doorway when Itachi entered. "Honestly, I think you're both idiots," she said genially before the game finally ended a massive one hundred to the opposing team's twelve. "Hey, Itachi-san," she greeted, grinning widely at Sasuke's older brother, and Sasuke stared pointedly in his brother's direction.

"Hello," Itachi said quietly in response, staring blankly right back at Sasuke.

"Wassap?!" greeted Naruto loudly, obnoxiously, and, well, loudly.

Itachi barely gave Naruto a glance, opting instead to drop something long and narrow on Sasuke's far computer desk. He immediately turned on his heel without a sound and left the room as quietly as he had come in.

"Your brother is too quiet. You can't trust quiet people, Sauce-Gay, 'cause they're always the ones that go ballistic and just annihilate everyone in their path," mentioned Naruto, in which Sasuke threw a controller at his head.

Sasuke stood up and went over to the desk, and immediately lost his breath.

Sasuke's game room and personal bedroom were both filled with two things: electronics and Itachi's artwork. The latter, which was much more important to the younger Uchiha for obvious reasons, had been an ongoing thing for a long time, but oddly enough Itachi hadn't given Sasuke as much as he would've liked. Itachi had a tendency to light his finished pieces on fire or would recycle them.

However, when Itachi did give Sasuke pieces, they were always special in some way. Sasuke had paintings that sometimes gave him headaches and sometimes made his skin tingle, they were so ridiculously good in some unfathomable way. Sasuke had little origami pieces made from matchboxes. Sasuke had ceramic sculptures that weren't really sculptures exactly, more like abstract blobs of god-knew-what that Itachi had then painted in some nonsensical way. Sasuke had the few and occasional drawings that he couldn't make sense of but could feel, and even some drawings that made his heart hurt when he looked at them.

This one was one of the latter.

It was rare for Itachi to draw, especially with charcoal, as he was more inclined to pastels, paint, and crafting, so every piece that he did was special in a way that paintings simply weren't. As Sasuke looked down on the charcoal piece, done on canvas (even more rare), he felt utterly speechless at Itachi's skill, and simply stricken that he had been given the piece in the first place.

It was of a hooded figure, ambiguous in nature and dominating the piece, against a messy backdrop. There were shapes that resembled people, vehicles, trees, and something dark, something dangerous, that Sasuke couldn't name or even contemplate. The background was vividly shaded, the blacks contrasting magnificently with the greys of all different shades, but it was the hooded figure that was the most striking part of the piece. It was dominating figure, yes, but not overbearing or even inhuman in size, instead just with a presence that seemed to be tangible on the canvas itself. The cloak of the figure was white — well, as white as white charcoal could ever get anyway — but there were tints of red alongside it, or maybe that was just Sasuke's imagination. Regardless, it was swirled with light greys where Itachi had perhaps purposefully used white charcoal in the dust of the black, and yet there was not much detail. It had purpose, and a huge purpose at that, jumping from the canvas board as if real. It was tangible, enough so where Sasuke knew what exactly that hooded figure was. Or, rather, who.

Sasuke had no idea what that ANBU in the white cloak, the one that had accompanied Itachi back to the penthouse, had done to cause such an impact on Uchiha Itachi's psyche, but it drove Sasuke mad with curiosity. Had the ANBU spoken to Itachi, given him secrets? Had the ANBU hurt him (no no no, Itachi would've given an indication, and not looked back to that ANBU so inquisitively had that been the case)? Sasuke didn't know, and he hated it.

That ANBU had done something though, something impacting, something strong enough to make artwork like this...

"My God," a voice breathed beside him.

Sasuke looked over at Sakura, who had abandoned the game as well and was now staring at the charcoal gem that Itachi had crafted. Her jade eyes were big, bright, and glowed in the dim light of the room, sweeping gently over the curves of the hooded figure in the drawing. Sasuke almost wanted to smile, because maybe it wasn't just Sasuke that was affected through bias of blood relation and everyone else felt the same way about Itachi's work. Maybe it really was that powerful to other people, and Sasuke just wasn't feeling his brother's emotions more strongly because he knew Itachi the best.

"Yeah," replied Sasuke. "He's ungodly talented. If I had a tenth of his talent, I'd be invincible." Except Itachi himself wasn't invincible — everything about Itachi proved that, from Itachi's mind to the cancer that had nearly killed him.

"Give yourself some credit, Sasuke-kun," muttered Sakura, as she blinked and shook her head like Itachi's drawing had hypnotised her. "You're fantastic at kicking Naruto's arse at Halo despite your hatred of it."

Sasuke cracked a smile that wasn't really a smile and drawled, "Duh. That's because he fails at life."

He hung up the charcoal drawing, right in the middle of his two televisions so he could look at it, before he returned to the game, and continuously glanced at it anyway.


Itachi threw his satchel on his bed and sat down primly on the edge of his bed.

Then he flopped backwards ungracefully, letting his lower legs and feet dangle off the edge.

He was so unbelievably exhausted that it almost was too much to even breathe. He wasn't tired, per se, because his eyes weren't itchy and fighting to close, but completely wiped out to the point where he couldn't even bring it in himself to move.

It had been weeks upon weeks of sleepless nights due to his raging and unfathomable inspiration to create, the inability to sleep due to dreams that were almost nightmares and yet were not, trying to cram in school-work through his sleep deprivation and artistic motivation, and an intense but ridiculous fear that ANBU operatives were going to kill him in his sleep just for speaking to one of their captains simply because he knew too much or something. It was starting to wear on him, even his family members noticing, and now he was lying there on his bed after talking with his father about just that — "Are you feeling alright, Itachi? The whole family has noticed that you haven't been sleeping...if you think that maybe you should take you to a doctor, just in case, all you have to do is give us the word."

His father had good intentions usually. He appreciated the gesture at any rate.

He was fine though. He was just consumed by thoughts that didn't seem to want to leave him alone, and now he was suffering the side effects in his current disposition. He was exhausted, and people were starting to notice. At the rate he was going, he was going to end up catching the eye of the press, or God forbid the Clan Heads, and he didn't need the questions.

What would he even tell then anyway? 'Well, I met this ANBU captain at the Prime Minister's political fund-raiser. Not only did he speak to me, which is highly unusual, he also engaged me in a discussion concerning right and wrong, and now I can't stop thinking about everything he said, or what I said, or what I felt. The fear, the clarification...you should have felt that. It was consuming, his words and voice. I felt terrified.'

The doodles on the hotel stationary that he had created before the conversation were now hanging up on his walls in the studio. Just looking at them reminded him of that utter fright that he had felt with that ANBU in his personal space while Itachi yelled in his face, as if trying to convince the captain that he was evil. He knew that the ANBU wouldn't have harmed him without permission from the Emperor, but it might've signed his death warrant.

He knew that his fanatic impulse to creativity was part of expressing everything that he had felt in that moment, but he wasn't sure if the sleeplessness was from the experience as well or if it was because he was afraid said ANBU would slip through his window one night and kill him brutally for his brother to find.

There was a light knock on the door, but Itachi simply wasn't in the mood to speak to Sasuke at the moment. He closed his eyes and continued to breathe steadily, feigning sleep, and when his baby brother came into his room quietly, Itachi wasn't disturbed. The perks of having a severe bout of insomnia — no forcing irritating conversation that would take more energy than Itachi had at the moment. Sasuke would allow him to sleep, or fake sleep if he wasn't stupid (which he wasn't, but stranger things had happened).

Then Sasuke surprised him as a weight settled on the bed next to him. He felt the fabric of his decorative throw being tossed over his body and the warmth of Sasuke's body curling next to his, and Itachi felt no shame or qualms in curling into his brother as a child would do to its mother. If the ANBU came into Itachi's room when he slept, then maybe he would have mercy and not kill him with his brother in the room, for it probably would've destroyed Sasuke to wake up to such a sight.

Then again, the captain had been ANBU after all; he probably wouldn't care if Sasuke bathed in blood or not.

Regardless, Itachi drifted off, feeling safe and content, and didn't wake up until his alarm went off for school the next day, his brother still beside him.


Sasuke loved maths.

He didn't particularly like getting interrupted in class, especially during said mathematics class, and Sakura was starting to drive him crazy for doing just that.

"Psst," she hissed again, nudging her foot against the leg of his desk for the umpteenth time. It shook his desk lightly, not enough to distract the teacher but enough that it made Sasuke mess up on writing the number four.

He gritted his teeth, refusing to acknowledge her or the note that she had flung on his desk fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes of Sakura being a nuisance because she wanted him to read that note pretty damn badly. Unfortunately, his Uchiha pride had firmly stated that he was not giving into her, and thus he was getting increasingly frustrated and annoyed as she continued to pester him. Surely she knew by now that he was too stubborn to give into annoyance.

He left it on the desk when the bell rang, ending the school day, so Sakura grabbed it and opened it. He continued walking out of the room, working on finding Itachi in the bumbling mess of the school hallways, despite the fact that Sakura kept thrusting the opened note in front of his face. He still refused to read it, since he was already irritated by this point. If it was that important, she would come out and say it.

It took her five minutes to actually do it though.

He hadn't found Itachi yet, starting to get a bit freaked out because they always met in front of Iruka-sensei's English language classroom after the final bell rang. He was looking up and down the hallways quickly, trying to see that thin form with a face rather similar to Sasuke's own coming towards him, and finally Sakura just groaned with exasperation and threw her arms up in the air.

"For Christ's sake, Sasuke-kun, if you weren't so prideful you would've read my note and you wouldn't be floundering around like a dumbarse waiting for Itachi-san."

Sasuke glared, silently demanding answers.

Sakura rolled beryl green eyes and drawled with poorly hidden amusement, "Itachi got picked up today. He's been gone since second period."

Sasuke's eyes narrowed but he didn't shake Sakura and demand explanation. He figured that he'd be in some tight shit if the school seen him do that to a girl. Naruto maybe, but not Sakura. Everyone was used to Naruto getting whailed on, but Sasuke couldn't do it to Sakura. She was one of the ones doing the most whailing anyway, especially to Naruto, and he didn't want to ruin the motivation that fuelled such actions.

Besides, he didn't hit girls anyway.

She sighed, giving up, and replied back evenly, "Your mother picked him up. Not sure why, but Itachi apparently was just as confused as you seemingly are. If you kept up with school buzzing, then you would've heard it through the grape vine."

Sasuke frowned heavily. Itachi hadn't any doctor appointments or meetings to attend, or he would've mentioned it to Sasuke. Maybe their mother had taken Itachi to the doctor out of the blue, considering how thin and exhausted Itachi had been looking. They were all worried, and he wouldn't have put it past Uchiha Mikoto to pull such a stunt even on her own accord.

He pulled out his phone and shot Itachi a quick text, even though Itachi's phone was probably glued on a canvas and painted upon in one of his brother's art projects. Or something along those lines. He might've just thrown it off his balcony and called it a day too. He had done that before, only with a computer.
Itachi hated technology about as much as Sasuke hated Windows, which was to say that the hatred was well-known and intense. Therefore, Itachi not answering the text or the phone call that he followed it with was expected, but still disappointing.

"Goddamnit," Sasuke muttered, and followed Sakura out of the school building.

He gave his phone to Sakura outside of the building and she called his mother for him, giving him time to avoid Naruto and Kiba's antics and climb into his car. The other three piled in after him, the two boys loud and obnoxious like usual as they argued about whether or not Anko-sensei was a demon from hell (Naruto) or a hot demon from hell (Kiba).

Sakura hung up, shrugged at Sasuke, and then called again immediately afterwards as Sasuke pulled out of the school parking lot, mindful of the numbskulls that would possibly smash into his beloved Audi. The Uchiha abode was a good twenty-five minute drive from the private school and he didn't feel like calling someone to pick them up should some idiot crash into his baby. The wait would've been ridiculous, and he was ready to game.

Although at that moment he was too worried about Itachi for anything else to really matter.

He made his way to the interstate after thankfully not getting into an accident, accelerating and zoning out. Absently he could hear Kiba and Naruto's conversation change from their crazy phys-ed instructor's busty assets to the rumoured new Elder Scrolls beta that was supposed to be a full-scale MMORPG.

Then to his left: "Oh, hello Uchiha-sama!"

Sasuke's head whipped towards the girl in the passenger seat, neck cracking loudly despite the boisterous chatting in the back-seat. His dark eyes took in her bright smile as she listened to Sasuke's mother reply a greeting, smiling slightly himself in amusement. At least his mother liked her, and the others too, even if she wasn't a huge fan of that Chōji kid (he ate a lot, and while the Uchiha household wasn't hurting for money, it was still daunting to watch as an entirely stocked pantry was gradually emptied by Chōji alone, especially when there were other people that were there too).

"Yeah, he was looking for Itachi. Guess the memo didn't get relayed because he was runnin' around like a chicken with its head cut off," Sakura said with a laugh, winking at Sasuke. He rolled his eyes, focussing back on the traffic on the road as he heard his mother answer back. He couldn't exactly hear what was said, but one-sided conversations could be endlessly amusing and so he just settled in the driver's seat and listened in.

"I know, Uchiha-sama, he's definitely the over-protective type." Sasuke rolled his eyes again at that, a bit exasperated. So what if he was a bit over-protective? It wasn't like Itachi pulled any stops on Sasuke himself, so what was the difference? Besides, Sasuke was allowed to be over-protective, because bad things happened to people like Itachi. He had the shittiest luck when it came to arseholes, especially the ones that had a problem with gay people. It wasn't like it was a secret, since all of the business magazines had had a field day when Itachi's sexual preferences had finally come to light two years back — some people couldn't get the hint that the world was changing for the better.

And then there was the whole Itachi-will-probably-get-sick-again thing, but that was beside the point.

"Anyway, just because he's glaring at me like a boss, I'll ask where Itachi is, if that's okay with you Uchiha-sama," Sakura said, winking playfully at Sasuke again, and the two idiots in the back-seat snickered. Why had he brought them with? They were the most annoying people at the entire school, so willingly allowing himself to be subjected to such stupidity was clearly masochistic. Was he masochistic?

"Took him to the doctor, you hear that Sasuke-kun?"

Sasuke glare increased ten-fold but Sakura seemed to be completely immune to it. Irritatingly.

It took his mind off the stab of anxiety in his entire body. Sasuke had figured as much, because there was no way that Itachi would've been taken out of school just for shits and giggles. Taking him to a spontaneous doctor's appointment was pretty much one of the only explanations for the ordeal. But...

Sasuke went to open his mouth but Sakura asked the question before he could vocalise it: "Sasuke wants to know when you guys'll be home."

"Wow, you guys aren't even dating and she's got you pegged, bastard," laughed Naruto, and Sasuke gritted his teeth. He didn't have to say anything in the end though, because Sasuke was driving and Sakura was apparently more than happy to deck out some pain for the both of them.

Sakura said sweetly, "Please hold, Uchiha-sama." Sasuke's mother said something into the cell and Sakura laid it gently in one of the cup holders in reply before quite literally launching herself at the two idiots chortling in the back-seat.

There was a moment where Sasuke swerved in shock, because who in their right mind did shit like that, before he forced himself to ignore the foot that was trying to kick him in the face unconsciously. There was screaming in the back-seat as Kiba and Naruto begged for forgiveness, and Sasuke couldn't keep himself from bursting out in a loud, barking laugh. He didn't laugh like that often, but he was just so fucking amused by these crazy people he surrounded himself with.

Eventually Sakura stopped and returned to her seat, pushing her hair back with her palm without much care to how it looked (which was rather messed up by that point, and not in the most attractive way, Sasuke was amused to note). She picked up the phone and cleared her throat before saying with triumph in her voice, "Sorry 'bout that, Uchiha-sama. I had to deal with the two annoying punks in the back-seat." There was laughter in the background and then Sasuke's mother spoke quickly, in which Sakura replied, "We're on our way back to your home, Mikoto-san, and I'll let Sasuke-kun know. See you when you get back, ma'am!"

His mother replied back and Sakura soon hung up, grinning cheekily at Sasuke. The only thing, though, that he really cared about was the obvious: "So when?"

"They'll be back late this evening. Apparently she's taking him to dinner and they're seeing a show together. Mother-son bonding, I guess. Anyway, she said they'd be back late and that everything was all clear, whatever that means." Her eyes grew concerned and even the boys in the back grew quiet when Sasuke practically folded in on himself, slowing the vehicle down and pulling to the shoulder of the road before letting a deep sigh of relief seep from his very bones. He had been so fucking terrified for Itachi, wondering if he was malignant again, if his body was yet again trying to kill itself, and Itachi was just refusing to admit that it was a possibility instead of going to the doctor to check it out.

Sasuke's elbows rested on the steering column and he buried his face in his palms.

It had to have been only a preliminary diagnosis that Itachi wasn't sick though. Blood tests didn't cut it completely if it wasn't advanced enough, and for a complete diagnosis he would need a bone marrow biopsy anyway. Maybe it hadn't been clear enough in the preliminary. There was still a chance that the cancer was back and it just hadn't progressed enough for it to be visible in their particular test sample. Then again, if it was back and it was just that early, it was a good sign, and there was a lot of hope in that regard.

"You okay?" asked Naruto, remarkably quiet for once.

Sasuke shook himself visibly and lifted his head up, smiling tightly at his friends. Not that he'd ever admit to being friends with the weirdos, but whatever. "Yeah, I'm good. I'll be better when we get back. I'm fucking starving."

They drove back, Kiba and Naruto laughing boisterously in the back while Sakura alternated between smacking them and glancing at Sasuke with narrowed eyes when she thought he wasn't looking.

Like he didn't notice that shit.

Half an hour later, they pulled into the driveway of the Uchiha abode and piled out of the Audi, intent on finding the kitchen. Sasuke and Sakura walked side-by-side at a leisurely pace, watching the two idiots bolt through the hallways with casual familiarity straight to the food. When the weirdos had turned a corner and disappeared from view, Sakura grabbed his arm lightly and held him back.

"You alright, Sasuke?" she asked, and it was kind of relieving that the honorific was omitted. She gazed at him with beryl green eyes, lips turned in a frown, and he sighed.

"I'm fine. I've just been a bit stressed lately," he replied a bit lamely.

"About your brother?" she pressed, and pulled her hand away from his arm when she realised he wasn't going to book it like a beast or something. He was thankful for it, even if he kept himself quiet, and he looked up at the ceiling as he wondered how to answer her question. He barely knew the girl, and he wasn't very open to anyone except Itachi, really.

He found himself saying, "Yeah, I guess. It doesn't matter. Mother said that everything was fine, so there's nothing to worry about."

"Well, you wouldn't be the over-protective brother if you didn't worry, Sasuke," she said with a playful wink, in which he snorted at against his will. She continued quietly with a small grin playing on her features, "And besides, it's your job. Teasing aside, I think it's cool how close you two are. I don't have any siblings, so I kind of envy you. If I was Itachi, I'd be...well, irritated that you got bent out of shape about me—" Sasuke raised an eyebrow, not sure whether or not to glare or roll his eyes. "—but I'd be kind of pleased too, knowing someone cared enough to get all bent out of shape about me." She paused and then said in amusement, "Then again, I'm not your brother, and maybe he thinks differently, but at any rate, don't worry about it. Just...if you ever need someone to rant to, my ears are open. Although if you're being a dumbarse, I will call you out on it."

Sasuke gave into the urge to roll his eyes, but his own grin was beginning to creep upon his lips. "C'mon, woman," he said sarcastically, pleased when she didn't immediately take offence and all that jazz that girls tended to go demon over. "Let's go make sure the idiots haven't trashed the kitchen."

She laughed, and they walked towards the kitchen in a comfortable silence.


Itachi's forehead grew cool as he laid it against the chilled glass of the car window.

The anaesthetic from his bone marrow biopsy and aspiration had worn off by then, leaving him rather sore and unable to sit fully in the vehicle due to discomfort. He had painkillers, and the good ones too — Oxycontin, of which he wouldn't take any — but he ignored them. He wasn't going to get started on that rubbish; he'd be fine on his own free will.

They, being his mother and himself, were heading back to the house, silent against the gentle hum of the Bentley. It was a comfortable silence, one that Itachi was well used to in the company of Mikoto, and it didn't bother either of them. They didn't have to speak at every moment for there to be conversation, for there to be comfort and contentment. They were perfectly fine just sitting there in silence, listening to the purr of the engine and the sound of traffic while watching the city of Konohagakure in its night-time glory pass by.

He could feel that his mother had things to say but didn't really want to break the moment. It was peaceful, knowing that there was a good chance that the cancer wasn't back (at least in a noticeable way, which was what the bone marrow aspiration and biopsy were for), and they were still revelling in the light dinner and the art show she had taken him to. It had been a lovely night out, despite being stabbed with a needle much thicker than pencil led. Or about the same size as one of those coffee stirring sticks that one got at coffee shops or hotels.

He wasn't really sure if he could answer her. He already knew what she was worried about, since now she couldn't place his insomnia and poor eating schedule on perhaps being sick again. Now she knew that there was something else bothering him, and he wasn't sure how to explain it. How did one explain the terror of a near-death experience to their mother? She would only freak out, as all good mothers did.

Besides, Itachi had given his word to keep the secret of the ANBU speaking to him, and Uchiha Itachi kept his word.

Then again, it was only based on the ANBU keeping his name away from superiors like the Emperor, even though he was required by law of duty to report every minuscule detail to said Emperor...or recruiters — again, Itachi heard the captain's voice say in his head, 'Says the previous heir to the Uchiha legacy, who clearly has all of the markers for an excellent ANBU operative if he could work a bit harder on masking his genuflection,' followed by 'You really would make a good ANBU, you know,' and fought a shudder of foreboding that threatened to wrack his body.

Not like he'd ever be cleared to work with ANBU anyway. He was a queer, vegan pacifist that was going to be fighting off a persistent form of cancer for the rest of his (most likely to be short) life. He was in excellent physical shape but he was still a walking liability for such a shady government organisation.

He had to say something though, before she drove herself mad with worry.

"Mother," he said softly, bespectacled eyes taking in the view of Konohagakure's eastern outskirts, hosting the more wealthy of its population. His forehead was beginning to go numb with the chill. "I'm okay. I've just got a lot on my mind, that's all."

From the reflection on the window, he watched his mother turn her head towards him quickly before focussing back on the road, her face quite unreadable. Itachi had learnt a lot from the woman over the years, including how beneficial it was to not be an open book with emotions, but at that moment Itachi wished that he knew what she was thinking, if only so he could appease her more easily.

Then again, they were very open with each other, although not nearly along the level as Sasuke and Itachi were, so he wasn't surprised when she asked, "Is it school? The move?" A small hesitation, and then she continued, "A boy?"

Itachi blinked.

A boy? If by 'boy' she meant 'man with a porcelain mask that kills and tortures people for a living', then perhaps she was correct, but not how she was probably thinking.

Which, obviously, he wasn't going to tell her.

But he wasn't going to lie to his mother. He'd lie to Fugaku to get the man off his back and pacified, and he'd lie to his other family members simply because he didn't trust the bastards, and he'd lie to the few friends he had because they didn't need to know every detail of his private life, and he'd lie to Sasuke just to save him from knowing some of the things that would hurt him emotionally or mentally, but he couldn't lie to his mother. Not only would she be able to tell immediately, like all mothers could, but he would feel absolutely terrible about it. He hated lying quite frankly, and always felt guilty and ashamed after the fact, something he'd prefer to avoid.

Quietly, and with a bit of hesitation on his own part, he admitted, "When we were at that fund-raiser, I broke away from the group. An ANBU followed me and it sort-of shook me up. I know it's their job to watch us during those things, but I get to thinking about what they do for a living and not being able to see their faces and not knowing if they're staring at me or not...it just puts me at unease. This one was just...I don't know. Different. He stood against the window with that mask towards the window, maybe watching the traffic, and it just..."

"It was what, Itachi?" his mother asked gently, coaxing him.

Itachi sighed, uncharacteristically, and replied softly, "I was terrified. Maybe he had followed me to kill me. Maybe he was thinking about ways to do it. Maybe he wanted to just because he was a crazy psychopath. But he..." Itachi trailed off, and the silence was a bit more tense, mostly on his own part rather than his mother's. Mikoto simply continued driving, not saying a word as if aware that he would come to words himself when he could express himself properly.

They silence stretched, Itachi bringing a hand to his lips absently, picking at the skin there. It was a nasty habit, but the mindless thought of it as well as the sting that accompanied was a familiar comfort that helped with the swirl of thoughts and emotions that festered in his brain. He hated how it looked afterwards though, hated how sometimes the blood stained his fingertips when he got carried away, hated how he didn't — couldn't — stop.

"He was beautiful," Itachi whispered. "What he looked like while he stared at the window, with all of the lights on his white cloak and his mask all lit up...it was gorgeous, Mother. I can't stop feeling afraid, but I can't stop drawing, and I know it's starting to scare you and Father and Sasuke but I'm really fine. I just can't get it out of my head. I need some time to process it, to get it out of my system I reckon, and forgive me for worrying you."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Itachi," his mother scolded. "You just need to talk to us, so we aren't thinking you're being stubborn about medical attention. We saw that you weren't sleeping, that you weren't eating, and it was the same during the months before your diagnosis. You have to talk to us Itachi, because we worry about you having a relapse and we don't want to catch it late if it does happen."

Which it would happen, whether early or late, but neither of them corrected Mikoto's statement. That was the thing with cancer: a person got it once, fought it off, went a few months or years in remission, and then got it again even worse, until suddenly, after maybe years of fighting or possibly just months, it was suddenly giving the bird to chemotherapy and making babies in every part of that person's body until they died, painfully and after millions of dollars being pushed through the system for treatment.

Itachi was going to die from it eventually, unless he got murdered by ANBU or ran over by a bus or something. He had come to terms with it.

His family hadn't. They were nearing almost a billion dollars spent on cancer research ever since Itachi's initial diagnosis, after all. He didn't hate the idea, because millions of people would benefit from it in the future, but it was still...almost amusing to him to hear that his parents were trying to buy the cure in his (most likely short) life.

"I didn't mean to worry you. I just didn't think, Mother," he murmured, his glasses bumping rhythmically against the glass window as his forehead chilled. He felt a sharp bite of pain and he pulled his hand away sharply, glancing downwards to see a slight smear of red upon his fingertips and in his nails. He sucked on his bottom lip in response, vaguely tasting the metallic tang of his own blood as he tried to clear it away. The sting was comforting, just like always, but he curled his hand into a light fist so his mother didn't see the evidence of his habit.

They pulled onto their road and drove a few more kilometres down before she pulled into the long driveway. They didn't comment on his apology, instead focussing on parking the vehicle in the garage and gathering all of their things. Itachi gingerly stepped out of the vehicle, a hint of a smile on his face when his mother took his satchel and flung it on her shoulder. He grabbed the little baubles that they had splurged on at the show before closing the door stiffly, following his mother out of the garage and into the hallway. They both walked up to Itachi's room quietly, passing by Sasuke's game room without calling out, and when they both entered Itachi's studio, she placed his bag on the chair.

"I'm glad you're okay, Itachi," she said, pulling him into a hesitant hug. Itachi stiffened slightly and perhaps a bit guiltily, both of them not used to the display of affection. His mother was a lot like him, very guarded with her actions and emotions, so it was rare for either one of them to do such a thing. Itachi closed his eyes tightly, knowing that he was at fault for her worry, and returned it awkwardly, wrapping his arms around his mother's upper back.

They broke apart and his mother cupped her hands around Itachi's cheeks. "You can talk to me whenever, or even to Sasuke. I know it can be hard to talk to your father but he's always there, you know, whenever you need him. If you just need someone to sit in the corner and be there, you just have to ask, Itachi. Don't forget that, okay?" Her dark eyes darted back and forth between the two of his bespectacled ones, framed by glasses, as if checking for any sort of emotion.

Itachi nodded once, still maintaining contact, and his mother smiled lightly. "Okay, Itachi," she said, stepping back and beginning to walk towards the exit. "Would you like me to poke my head in to Sasuke's room?"

Itachi shook his head, amused. "No, he'll figure it out eventually. Besides, he might think that you're finally enforcing a bed-time or something."

"Oh I would never do that. As long as you get good grades and don't neglect your health, I don't think we should harp on you too much," she responded airily.

Itachi fought the urge to roll his eyes and answered, "I'll make sure to get some sleep then."

Mikoto shot him a mischievous smirk, eyes sparkling, and said, "Good night, my lovely."

"Good night, Mother," he replied.

Mercifully alone.


Sasuke jolted awake, blearily looking at his surroundings.

Sakura was the first thing he laid eyes on, eyes closed and flickering behind her thin eyelids as she dreamed, petal pink hair lightly falling into her face. She was laying on the couch, her bare toes very nearly touching him from his position on the other side and her arms curled into her chest.

Sasuke smiled, watching the repeating title screen colours of Halo: Wars reflect onto her pale skin, before he blinked slowly and pushed himself up. He didn't rustle around too much, stepping around the boys on the floor until he walked out of his game room and down the hallway leading to Itachi's room. He had been checking every hour on the hour for his brother to turn up, not expecting him to go out of his way to say hello, but at around midnight he had passed out rather lamely.

He dragged his body towards Itachi's room, if only to check on him, when he heard a loud bang come from the art studio.

He rolled his eyes with a light grin and pushed open the door, where Itachi was in the corner of the room, earbuds in his ears and curled up not unlike Sakura in the other room. He was fast asleep on that L-shaped couch that was pretty much ruined with paint by that point, and Sasuke laughed quietly in amusement. He hadn't even gotten out of his shoes or even touched his paint before he had laid down, apparently slipping into unconsciousness immediately. Perhaps the stress of it all had finally caught up to him now that he had clear proof that the cancer wasn't back.

More than likely it was the after-affects of the sedatives, Sasuke reckoned.

He grasped a throw from the back of Itachi's couch and draped it over his brother's body before returning to the game room and returning to his favourite seat of the couch.

He fell asleep moments later.