Akira knew this had to be Itachi's illusion, because she no longer sat in her living room.

Her feelings of dread only worsened as the objects around her began to spin. The genjutsu clouded her senses, and Akira felt as if her brain were being stretched every which way.

Somehow through the chaos, her hands came together to form a seal. Then, after momentarily cutting off her chakra, she softly whispered, "Kai!"

Nothing happened. Akira's eyes widened. If this was a genjutsu, why couldn't she get out?

The scenery around her was completely different now. Instead of an open space with a black and red sky, she was standing in a village.

Akira did a double take.

An eerily familiar village…

She knew this place. But how?

Two figures slowly began forming in front of her, figures of people. The sky above her changed to a gloomy dark gray, almost as if it were going to rain. Another de ja vu feeling swept over her, but along with it came additional feelings of alarm.

She wasn't supposed to be here. Every instinct in Akira's body told her to run.

The two figures were fully formed now: a man and a woman, judging by the shape of their bodies. Shadows covered their faces, and Akira crept closer to examine them. Something was still telling her to run.

But where could she go?

Her eyes widened when she recognized them.

"I can't be," Akira murmured incredulously.

Those two people, they were…

"Kaa-san? Tou-san?"

No… Her parents been dead for eight years!

But it was them. There was no mistake. She spent every morning staring at their picture on her nightstand. They were dressed exactly the same with their hair in the exact same styles, and not a line on their smooth young faces.

Her parents hadn't aged a day. Hyuuga Shuuichi and Hyuuga Kiari looked the same as the day they had died.

Akira called out to them.

"Kaa-san? Tou-san?" Her voice pinched. Shadows still covered their faces, obscuring their eyes, and preventing her from seeing their full expressions.

What was this illusion?

Finally, her father looked up at her, and her mother followed. The looked exactly the same, save for their eyes. They were so cold… She had to be seeing things!

"You're a failure, Akira," Shuiichi said, his voice stern, far sterner than she'd ever heard. It was full of hate and bitterness. Tears sprang into the Hyuuga girl's eyes as she desperately turned to her mother.

"You hid like the coward you are while we were slaughtered right in front of you! How dare you call yourself a Hyuuga!" Kiari's sapphire blue eyes burned with resentment, her voice also filled with venom. "How dare you call yourself my daughter?"

Her mind rejected the information. No, her parents had never talked to her like this. Besides, they were dead, long dead. Then why…?

Before she could attempt to reason away anything else, her world was spinning again. The ominous gray clouds in the sky burst, releasing torrents of rain as more and more figures began appearing throughout the village.

Akira knew where she was now—this was where she'd grown up; this was where she'd lost everything.

A horde of figures near the entrance of the village held weapons of all shapes and sizes. They looked like shinobi. Each one of them had looming, evil looks on their faces. All the others scattered throughout the village put on the front of an innocent civilian. But no matter who she looked at, Akira couldn't shake her feelings of dread that were quickly turning into panic.

She knew these people, every single one of them… It was all coming back now. Memories that she'd tried so to hard forget.

Akira didn't want to watch what happened next, but, for some reason, she couldn't bring herself to look away. It felt like a powerful force was controlling her; her body was no longer her own.

A man, most likely the leader, yelled something she didn't quite understand. Most likely something along the lines of "Kill everything thing in sight, and take what you can!"

The horde attacked, and the bloodshed began.

A combination of rain and body fluids soaked Akira's clothes as she watched the battle, if you could even call it that. Pillage would be a more accurate description. Every villager she ran across died, most of them not even bothering to put up a fight.

Somehow, Akira found the ability to run, but, no matter what she tried, she couldn't stop them. The enemy would go right through her as if she were a ghost. She couldn't touch them. All she could do was watch.

Time blurred as she witnessed murder after murder. It didn't matter where she went, she'd see everything regardless. It felt like hours, days… she really couldn't tell. But after all that time, one coherent thought finally strung together in her had.

Her parents—where had they gone?

Akira slowly made her way through the blood-filled streets, stumbling every few steps as tears streamed down her face. She hated not being able to do anything. She kept telling herself that this was an illusion, but no matter what she did, the tears kept coming.

She passed a merchant that her family used to see every day. Then a kind old man that used to give her candy, and a little girl she used to play with… All these people were almost unrecognizable and sprawled out on the ground in the most grotesque of ways. She couldn't even tell whose blood was whose.

Finally, Akira reached her destination—her old home.

After flinging open the door, the Hyuuga girl rushed inside. She heard a brief murmur of voices. It was coming from the master bedroom. The same place she'd watched her parents die.

She took off in said direction. The voices became louder. But, before she could see anyone, everything went black again.

When sight was returned to her, Akira found herself peeking through her only source of light, a small crack in a door.

She was still in her parents' house. This was the closet where they'd hidden her.

And, sure enough, her parents' figures came into view. Shadows danced behind them on the dim walls of the hallway leading to their room—her parents' killers were approaching.

Akira tried to move, but she couldn't. Whatever this illusion was, it made her feel like she had weights strapped to her limbs. Come to think of it, she couldn't even breathe. All she could do was watch.

Somehow, Akira managed to squeeze her eyelids shut, causing more tears to flow out of her eyes and down her chin. The images were twice as vivid in her head; she could still seeing everything.

Blood splattered the walls. Two sickening thumps sounded, one right after the other. Hyuuga Shuuichi and Kiari lay motionless on the ground, growing pools of crimson surrounding their bodies. Their murderers cackled and left the room as quickly as they'd come to search for valuables.

It was all rushing back to her, every memory of this day. She couldn't just brush this off as a bad dream anymore. She was reliving it.

Blood pounded through her ears as image after image filled her head, overlapping one another and making her senses go crazy. It felt like her head was splitting in half. She could feel, see, smell everything—it was numbing.

It took every ounce of willpower she had, but, through some miracle, Akira screamed. One long, drawn out, pathetic wail. She couldn't take it anymore. She just couldn't.

It had to stop. She would go insane. She was going insane. She—

"Oi!" Her eyes snapped open. Another voice? Had they found her? What if—

Her panicked thoughts came to a screeching stop when the closet door opened, and a new character entered the scene. Whoever it was, he was definitely male, and although she couldn't quite make out what he looked like, he seemed somehow… shorter, than most. The reason why became clear in a second.

It was only a child, maybe twelve or thirteen years old. He was a ninja, though. Why else would he have a sword on his back?

But it bothered Akira that she still couldn't see what he looked like.

"A survivor?" Someone stood behind the boy towering over her. He sounded older, but only a bit. A mask mask most of the older boy's face, and his hair was silvery white and wildly spiked. Come to think of it, both of their voices were familiar… they weren't her enemies, she could tell that much. If they were, she'd be choking on her own blood by now.

"Hn." A brief shuffle of cloth. Her adolescent rescuer finally stepped into the light.

Her eyes widened.

She knew that face. Smooth pale skin, long raven hair, crimson eyes, and those unmistakable stress lines—it couldn't be…

It was Itachi, but younger. Much younger. Why was she seeing him of all people?

She caught his gaze, but those crimson orbs were the last thing she saw before everything went black again.

Her head resumed spinning, but only for a second. Then all became perfectly still. No more screams, no more weapons and she could no longer smell the putrid odor of blood covering everything.

It took a moment for Akira to realize her eyes were closed. She hesitantly opened them, expecting to see a new world of torture, but instead finding herself back in the study on her knees with a familiar Uchiha's head on her lap. It should have calmed her down, but it didn't. Memories of carnage and bloodshed, the murder of people she had loved and cared about, were still flying through her head.

She had deactivated her byakugan at one point, but Akira couldn't quite remember when. She glanced down at Itachi. His eyes were closed. He looked asleep.

But, ever so slowly, his eyes opened, and he returned her gaze.

His irises were black. The nightmare was over.

Relief washed over her. Then, unable to hold back anymore, Akira cried for real.

When his vision focused again, Itachi knew something had gone wrong. The disappointment hit him immediately—he couldn't see clearly, anymore.

Something fell onto his face. It felt like warm water.

He looked up, and, although his vision was blurry, he recognized Akira. Her soft lavender eyes were red and puffy. The water he'd felt were tears.

She made no effort to stop him as he gradually sat up. She just sat there, not even seeming to breathe. The liquid flowing from her eyes was the only assurance Itachi had that she was still alive.

But, before Itachi could do anything, an excruciating pain shot through his eyes. Liquid began filling up his tear glands, but, unlike Akira, it wasn't water. Scarlet tears of blood snaked down his cheeks, leaving faded red trails in their wake. It came out of both eyes this time, not just his left.

A stiffed sob interrupted the Uchiha's thoughts, bringing his attention back to the distraught Hyuuga girl. Although shorter than most, Akira's time in Tsukuyomi was enough to drive any normal human being out of their mind.

Itachi didn't know what, but something possessed him to reach out and touch her shoulder. Without anyone else, he wouldn't dare consider this, but this was Akira. She didn't look all right, and clearly she'd didn't feel alright.

And Itachi never would have expected what happened next. Not in a million years.

Akira jumped forward, arms outstretched, and… hugged him. She mumbled something over and over again. He finally managed to decipher the words, "I'm sorry."

They were both sitting up now. It would be so easy for him to push her away. He still had time to stand up and walk away. What did he know about comforting someone, anyway? Akira would be better off dealing with this on her own.

But Itachi did no such thing. Something was telling him not to. Instead, he ever so slowly brought his arms up to rest on the Hyuuga girl's quivering shoulders. Her tears soaked his shirt, leaving wet splotches on the soft material. But he didn't care. Her arms squeezed his torso tightly, and, with a bit less force, Itachi squeezed her back.

It was everything Akira could do to remember to breathe. She couldn't think straight, and hot tears blinded her vision. She could only feel, and, at the moment, the feeling of Itachi's embrace was her only anchor to reality.

It didn't make sense to her. Itachi should be pushing her away. She knew he hated it when people touched him, yet here she was, clinging to him like some stupid, lost puppy.

He was right. She had been too weak to heal him. Her strategy backfired on both of them. He should be angry with her right now. Why was he doing this? Why was he being so kind to her?

None of these questions were answered as she clung to him with quiet sobs. Nearly ten minutes later, she'd finally calmed down enough to stop crying, but, even so, neither of them moved. Itachi seemed to think she'd fallen asleep, which she was very near to doing, actually, but the fear of nightmares prevented her from giving in to the exhaustion.

His arms surrounded her, his chin gently rested atop her head to hold her in place while she pressed her face into his chest.

It took every ounce of willpower she had to pull away from Itachi's warmth. Droplets of salty water had dried on her face, leaving crusty markings below her eyes and on the skin of her cheeks.

Itachi stared at her blankly, almost uncaringly. Akira half-expected herself to blush from the awkwardness of it all, but, for some reason, she didn't. Another minute passed before someone finally spoke.

"Itachi… your eyes…"

Two dull red streaks ran beneath his eyes. They resembled tears but they were red. She recalled seeing something similar when she'd first rescued him. Did it have anything to do with those eye techniques? Was the jutsu really so detrimental that it made his eyes bleed?

Before she could evaluate further, the Uchiha hastily ran his hand across the area in an attempt to wipe whatever it was away. But, after discovering the liquid was dried, he turned to her with a less blank expression than before.

"I'm fine." The markings below his eyes begged to differ. "Are you alright?"

Akira did her best to smile genuinely. "I'll live." The grin faded after a second or two. "Itachi… you're eyes… I… I didn't do it properly—"

"I know."

"We could—"

"No. I refuse to put you through that again."

"I—"

"What?"

Akira buried her face in her hands. "I'm sorry."

He didn't hug her this time. A part of her yearned for him to, which surprised her. Why did she want Itachi to touch her? Why hadn't she wanted to move away from him?

Akira's thoughts were in a jumble.

Why had she felt secure and protected in his arms?

"You should rest," Itachi stated. "Going to bed early would be a good idea for you."

She nodded. Her voice was pinched as she said, "Okay."

Then, as if nothing had happened, Itachi left. She heard a few doors open and close, and then she heard him unlock the front door and step outside.

Another late night walk? She would never understand why he liked doing that.

The rest of the night was blur. The next thing Akira knew, she was on the couch of her study. The lights were turned out, and she was attempting to fall asleep. Itachi wasn't back yet, but, after what her "brilliant" idea had just put them both through, she didn't blame him. To be honest, she wouldn't be surprised if he left altogether.

Hours passed before his chakra presence returned to the household, although Akira didn't bother to look at her clock to see the actual time. It was a relief, but it couldn't distract her from the mental torment.

It was amazing how much she had managed to repress over these past eight years, like the people of her previous village and her parents killers—but it was all coming back now. Oddly enough, the only thing she couldn't remember was how she'd gotten here.

The image of a preteen Itachi flashed through her head.

It didn't make any sense for him to be in there. Why had she seen that? Had it been real? If so, had that really been Itachi? Genjutsu or not, everything she'd seen in that world had actually happened.

It was almost like the memory of her parents' demise had been pulled out of her subconscious and then the other villagers' deaths added to it. She'd known them all—all of them except Itachi.

Akira tried to think of a reasonable explanation, but, no matter how much she pondered, she only managed to confound herself all the more. But, with her mind preoccupied, the Hyuuga girl finally relaxed enough to fall into a dreamless sleep. Even the faint drizzle of rain on the rooftop failed to wake her.

Immediately, anyway.

Akira awoke with a jolt as a bolt of thunder sounded, yanking her from the silent world of slumber. Darkness surrounded her, and the only light came from a small window in the far wall of the room.

"I should be getting back to sleep," Akira murmured drowsily, rolling over to her side as she adjusted the thin blanket covering her figure. Her eyes had only just begun to close when they quickly reopened thanks to another rumble followed by a loud boom.

"Damn thunder." She would never be able to sleep if that kept up.

Returning to her back, Akira kept her eyes open and mindlessly stared at the ceiling. Normally, the pitter-patter of raindrops would be soothing to her, but not tonight—after all, it had been raining that night.

Why am I still thinking about that? It was just an illusion. Akira turned back onto her side and cupped her hands over her ears. The images of her parents being cut down before her kept playing over and over again. It was like the hanabi festival gone wrong. She just couldn't get the memory out of her head, and the rain only succeeded in reminding her.

"I should go splash some cold water on my face." Maybe it'd clear her head and make her stop talking to herself.

One problem: the bathroom was in her room. Where Itachi slept.

It almost made her stop.

"I'll just be quiet," Akira decided, peeling off the blanket from her legs before shakily rising to her feet.

She crept into the hallway. It was dark, and she could just barely distinguish the door leading to her bedroom. It wasn't far; she should be able to make it without tripping over anything.

And that she did. Akira reached the bedroom without a problem.

Now, she could only hope that she could make it to the bathroom without waking Itachi. Akira tentatively rubbed her throat. Nothing pleasant ever happened when she did that.

Itachi sprang into a sitting position, creaking the bed beneath him. A cold sweat covered his body and his breathing heaved. Worse yet, his limbs were tangled in the covers.

Dammit. Another nightmare. No surprise there.

He had never been a heavy sleeper. As a child, even the slightest disturbance would wake him. Although with the dreams he had, Itachi was not complaining.

Another question arose in his mind: what had woken him up? It couldn't have been the rain.

Itachi scanned the room, his sharigan activated. It was sad, really. He'd only been half blind again for a few hours, and he already missed being able to see.

Even so, a chakra presence appeared on his radar. An intruder?

Itachi froze, not making a sound. Whoever it was, they were in the bathroom.

Quietly getting out of bed, Itachi ventured toward the bathroom, ready for a fight if necessary. Cautiously, he peered through a crack in the door.

He could fully see them now. They were leaning over the sink, and Itachi could hear water running. To be honest, he was surprised they didn't hear him. Their features weren't exactly easy to make out, but he could tell one thing: this figure had long hair—long blonde hair…

"Akira?" What was she doing up at this hour?

Itachi mentally sighed. It was almost laughable how he'd overreacted.

She jumped, most likely because she hadn't heard him coming. Her head whipped in his direction, and, for a second, her eyes were full of fear. She seemed to brush it off by forcing her face into a smile.

"Oh, Itachi?" Her expression was glaringly fake. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Hn." Itachi attempted to make eye contact with the girl, but she looked away.

The action set off a warning signal in his mind.

Something was wrong. Akira was scared. Could she still not be completely over the afternoon's experience?

The next clap of thunder answered his question. Akira didn't just jump this time. Well, technically she did. To be exact, she jumped forward and hugged him.

He had not been expecting that. But, once again, Itachi didn't push her away. Most people were hospitalized if they lived through Tsukuyomi with their sanity intact. He should give her credit for still being sane.

While Akira quivered, Itachi's hand slowly found their way back around her shoulders. Oddly enough, it seemed to calm her. Her hair was down this time, and, before Itachi knew it, his fingers were tangled in the silky blonde strands.

Another clap of thunder sounded, and Itachi felt Akira wince. She wasn't crying, but she looked very close to doing so. Her next request didn't cease to surprise him.

"Can I sleep here tonight?" Caught off guard could only begin to describe his emotions, but her tone was pleading. "Please."

Her grip around him slackened and Itachi allowed her to pull away. He mentally sighed again.

"Do as you please. This is your house."

Her expression brightened ever so slightly. Itachi found it oddly relieving.

She held his arm the entire journey back to the bed, which was a grand total of about ten seconds. Itachi even went through the trouble of making sure she laid down first before pulling away from her grip. He had every intention of leaving the room until her hand found its way back to his arm.

"Don't leave me alone," she choked, and if he could see her eyes, Itachi had no doubt that they would look just as pleading as her voice sounded.

Who was he to refuse? With a soft sigh of surrender, Itachi joined the Hyuuga girl on the bed.

The mattress was undoubtedly big enough for both of them, which made Itachi question why he suddenly felt so cramped. Maybe it was just his imagination, or the fact that Akira was gripping his arm tightly enough to cut off his circulation. Whichever it was, it should be all right for one night. They weren't doing anything immoral.

Seconds after thinking that, he felt Akira press her body tightly against his back. Her breath lightly tickled the area between his shoulder blades, and he could feel everything. He'd rolled over so that he was facing away from her, but even with his attempt at modesty, this girl still clung to him.

Neither of them spoke. Itachi didn't like physical contact, but like he'd said before…

It was only for one night.

Akira didn't know what possessed her to act the way she was. She honestly didn't. All she knew was that she didn't want to be alone, and if that meant sleeping in the same room, even the same bed, as Itachi for the night, so be it.

He was being oddly cooperative. She'd expected him to put up more of a fight against her crazy request, but he hadn't, and she couldn't put her appreciation for that into words.

Better yet, from the moment she'd hugged him, that sense of security had been returned to her. Merely feeling his presence calmed her.

She didn't know how, but suddenly she felt positive that her memory of that night had been accurate. She couldn't explain why, but she was sure of it. Itachi had been the one to find her, the one to bring her this village. He was the reason she was still alive today.

Another clap of thunder rang out, but, this time, Akira didn't move. She simply buried her face in the Uchiha's back, contently breathing in his therapeutic scent.

With her lips formed in a smile, the Hyuuga girl slipped into unconsciousness almost immediately, Itachi following close behind.

Akira slept soundly that night, safe and warm beside her savior. Little did she know, the same went for Itachi—not a single nightmare plagued his sleep.

Well, it's been a while. Sorry about that. College and life have been occupying the majority of my time these past few months. Still have a week until Spring break where I'm from, but rather than working on my English paper, I feel like doing this. Hope the update is satisfactory. More to come~

Fun fact: apparently scent is the most powerful of the senses when it comes to jogging a person's memory. Go figure.