There is never time for sentimentality. In the shinobi world, a warp idea of reflection is encouraged to push past the grief and loss of fallen comrades. But this perception does not necessarily stop at death.
Questionable acts of treason for the benefit of humanity are briefly justified, mourned and actioned. The warp idea of reflecting on what constitutes as right or wrong is never explored, or rather, not given sufficient time for exploration.
And that holds true with the escalating tension between the elite Uchiha clan and its village.
In the quietude of the night, Itachi stands before his father in forced composure. They have spoken little since plans for the coup d'etat was announced several weeks ago.
Yet tonight, Uchiha Fugaku is ready to converse.
"Itachi, I sense a heightened level of hesitance coming from you," his father says.
Is his crumbling level of self-control that transparent?
Itachi has always been at odds with his clan's stringent ideology of superiority. He does not understand the notion of such thoughtless bragging or the reasoning for it, yet his loyalty to the clan is more out of respect for his family than anything to do with being born an Uchiha.
"Is reclaiming the clan's dignity more beneficial than preventing a possible civil war?" Itachi asks.
His tone is hard and rigid, as if there is only one correct answer to his question.
"Are you having doubts about this? You must know that the Uchiha comes first. We have been unfairly oppressed and accused of things we had no responsibility for. You must know this by now, Itachi."
Itachi does not speak, but the unwavering passive look on his face does little to spell out his thoughts.
"Itachi, think about your responsibilities to the clan. You are a Uchiha. Honouring the clan's name is a priority, even if conflict is a consequence."
A disregard for life? Has his father not thought of the long term consequences of his impending actions?
Yet still, his family's needs and their happiness is also paramount.
x
The raw chills of winter brings relief to the passive boiling rage of his home's atmosphere.
The skies are clouded tonight, and for the first time ever, Itachi can finally appreciate the element's bitter coldness reciprocating inside him. And though his mind has hypnotised itself into a blank reverie, Izumi's voice floats through and brings him back to actuality.
"Itachi," she says, "What are you doing standing out here in the cold?"
She surveys him closely before his sudden break from the trance startles her.
"Fresh air," he answers bluntly, but his gaze has tuned into the darkened surroundings.
When Izumi does not answer, Itachi eventually returns his gaze.
There is a sudden look of determination and apprehension floating her watch, and when she steps closer with a clear look of interrogation, his mind is instantly curious.
"Itachi, you've been hiding something from me," she says tensely, "I can tell, and you promised you would-"
"The coup d'etat. Izumi, what do you make of that?" He interrupts swiftly.
He does not know why he is disclosing this matter to her. Izumi has been informed of the Uchiha's impending actions, yet something in Itachi's tone may have indicated his underlying concern.
"Coup d'etat," she repeats in puzzlement, "Is that what you are concerned about, Itachi?"
He does not speak. Izumi knows him well, and he finds it slightly intimidating.
"I see where the Uchiha is coming from, but that doesn't mean I agree. It is not a pleasant way of dealing with the clan's oppression, yet there is still a strong element of loyalty I have devoted and entrusted towards the Uchiha."
Her explanation is firm, though traces of uncertainty lines her words. Perhaps Itachi knows her more than he thinks he does.
"Itachi?"
He is reverting into a world of blank reveries again. Her voice is almost like a weapon that is used to pull him from that strange state. And when he re-focuses on her, she is watching him with an odd expression.
"Itachi, please at least say something," she says hesitantly, "Because you staring at me like that is getting a bit creepy."
The numbness of falling into a reverie has turned the last thirty seconds of his world blank.
"Sorry, Izumi, I think I just zoned out a bit," he says apologetically.
"Maybe you're tired. I guess it's too early for bed, maybe a nap?" She suggests brightly, "I do it all the time, it helps," she adds knowingly.
He stares incredulously at her.
How does she have time to do that?
"Itachi…why are you staring like that again…"
Her expression has slowly morphed into something like trepidation, followed by a surge of reddish embarrassment.
"Is there something on my f-face?" She continues frantically.
The confusion is stark across Itachi's features, yet he does not question her demeanour for fear of making assumptions.
Then Izumi is swiftly turning, a frenetic jumble of words dancing its way out her mouth and into the now still atmosphere.
"It must be…something on my teeth…food leftover….dammit, I should not have eaten those seaweed snacks, it sticks to your teeth…why didn't I check the mirror before I got here…he was definitely staring at it…"
("I don't know what's going on," Itachi utters).
"Where is it? Where's the mirror…I can't feel any leftover food along my teeth…I think it's gone…I need to check…I can't risk it…Itachi…did you see anything?"
Izumi turns sharply, her hand covering her mouth in mortification.
"See what?"
There is instant deflation in her mysterious panic-stricken state.
"Well, see you later," she mutters quickly.
Then she is gone before Itachi can register her absence.
