Ashita was standing outside with an umbrella poised over her ornaments. The sky was colored in ardent frustration, and crying in slow, progressive droplets.
It was really odd to see her that way, decorated and soaked in rouge. In her flowers that drifted from the nape of her neck and the lip of her kimono. And standing, with a yellow, plastic umbrella, looking at nothing in particular.
Itachi stood next to her. Without an umbrella. Without a reason.
"あきがすぎたらきっとあたしは"
(After Autumn passes, surely I will)
"のびたくろいかみをきりおとしてしまう"
(Cut off the black hair I let grow)
"いとしいひとよはなれかお なんてみっかもすりゃすぐにわすれてしまった"
(Oh, beloved. I forgot the sight of your face after only three days)
"ただしみついてきえないのはたばこのにおい"
(Still, the scent of your cigarette remains.)
She turned to him. "Did you miss me?"
The Uchiha Prince remained silent, with his tongue curling up in between his lips. "In a Stockholm Syndrome kind of way. I guess I've gotten used to you."
The little woman said nothing. You could tell it was one of those kind of days, when everything weighed heavy. Even the singular droplets of rain weighed a thousand pounds apiece. From the expression on her face, it was hard to say what she was thinking. It was blank as a sheet of paper, waiting for a haiku, but there were too many syllables. There was only room for simple words that didn't lead to conclusions.
What's the use of poetry at all?
Ashita chewed on one side of her mouth.
"I never really understand why it rains in fall. That's what spring and winter are for. Sometimes even summer, because it gets so fucking hot. But why fall too? If you think about it that way, it just rains all year."
"I think you appreciate the sunny days more, when there's rain." A pause. Droplets fell onto those eyelashes. Itachi glanced back into the sky. "I can tell you're feeling profound today. Literary, at least. And I can understand the romantic notion of standing outside in the rain. But if you get sick, we're both finished. So you should come and be literary and profound inside. I have plenty of books you can borrow."
"You make it sound like it's the same. I can't be literary and profound inside. There are no windows. That whole base is so oppressive sometimes. From one hole in the ground to another. Sometimes I feel like I've traded miseries."
Pause. And Itachi looked at her outline. At her good side. The side of her that looked like a figurine in a porcelain shop; that they glued geisha hair onto and stuck pretty, miniature kanzashi into her scalp.
And then they set an umbrella, a happy, bright yellow one, into her hands almost like an artistic statement. Because how could anything that looked so sad have such a sunshine-colored umbrella and still find it in them to pout?
"If you're unhappy here, you can always go somewhere else."
"It doesn't work that way. Do you honestly think I can just uproot from my basement and go away to be some productive member of society? You don't end up in Akatsuki because you're a student on the honor role. You don't end up here because you're productive. This is more honest, than trying to blend in somewhere and doing damage unintentionally. Here, I can sting quickly; I can move on. There aren't any social norms or matters of tradition to deal with."
Her brows dropped. Wilted.
"I don't think I can work anywhere else."
The rain picked up, just a little bit.
The Uchiha kept his lips sealed, just to look down and accost her with something of an ink black stare.
And Ashita asked, "Are you ever going to tell me why you did it?"
"What does it matter?"
She turned towards him, the scar reappearing on the other side of her face.
"You said it yourself just a while ago. Knowing the answer doesn't change anything, so why are you so intent on knowing at all? Is it so hard to accept that I'm a psychopath? Is the answer just too simple?"
"You're not. I can see it in your face sometimes. This genuine care… You Uchiha are hard to read, but it's easy when you stare long enough."
She caught her breath, even though there was hardly any to catch.
"There's something horribly wrong with this entire situation, and as much as you want to pretend, it's transparent. I've spent my entire life around psychopaths. For fuck's sake, Uchiha. My father dismembered people for experiments. You think I don't know a psychopath? You're hiding it. You put up this amazing façade, but really, that's all it is. A façade is a façade. It's never real, even if you take it to your fucking heart. Your fucking grave. But you don't. It's so obvious every time I look into your face. During moments like this, when you tell me to come inside because you don't want me to get sick. Psychopaths have locked me outside in the rain. Bleeding. Hoping I'll catch a goddamn infection. Who do you honestly think you're fooling? So what's the actual reason?"
Itachi sighed.
"Even if there was a reason, why should I tell you? I don't owe you any explanations. So what, if you look into my face and see what you want to see? It doesn't mean I did what I did for any reason at all. You said it yourself. You're obviously insane."
He took one step away and Ashita threw her umbrella into the grass.
"Fuck you, Uchiha! Even now you're too cool headed! But I can fucking feel you! So say more! Cuss me out, you pussy! You goddamn pacifist! Your stupid ass tells me I don't belong here! What sort of psychopath is against fighting?! You wouldn't hit a woman?! Come on, bitch! I'm giving you permission!"
Itachi was walking away from her.
"Let me guess! I'm just being irrational, right?! I can fucking hear you making excuses for me! If you really were the person you said you are, you'd have no problem clocking me in the mouth! So man up and do it!"
They were walking faster, Itachi trying to ignore her and Ashita shouting into his ear through the rain.
"Come on! I can take it! Your fucking brother's punched me full in the stomach! He's hit me with lighting! He's scarred my face! What?! Do you only crucify people when they try and rip your head off first?!"
"Shut the fuck up! Shut your fucking mouth!" he turned around and they stared one another down.
The woman had tears in her eyes. Her hair had been skewed by the rain and her face was painted in anger. She made herself up, in a frowning forehead and those heavy lips rolling around in half a scowl and half of a primal scream gone silent. Ashita looked like a coral snake, poised to attack but not sure why. There was so much hell fire in her blood. It burned up her logic like a raindrop, fallen inside the inferno melting the bones in her breast plate.
"Why the hell do you get so wound up over nothing?! Look at you, you goddamned moron! You're chasing me around for an answer you already have! And I'm not going to hit you; even if it would be a relief to have you quiet! Fuck off! You don't belong here! Even you're too much of a fucking disaster for this place!"
And then Itachi left her as the rain picked up. She didn't say anything more and she didn't follow. Ashita simply allowed the water to get into her hair, her clothing. Smear her make-up.
But Itachi did turn his head back for a split second to see the woman was crying, placing her smeared face into her soaked, pink and white sleeves. And he went inside, feeling awful for steeping on a snake that was trying to bite him.
