confession: I really didn't want to write this, but then the exciting thing you will find out more about after the chapter found out and I was all, "いきましょうううう!"
chapter ten: storming
We left while it was still dark. Apparently, Itachi had heard Madara was going to arrive that morning. And that meant that we – or, more specifically, I – could not be there any longer. I was grumpy and tired and stumbling along, too sleepy to even be scared in the predawn grey. But I kept moving, I didn't complain – even my morning self is not so stupid as to want to meet Uchiha Madara in the flesh.
Itachi was also adamant that I not meet him. When he had woken me up that too-early morning, he eyes had been wide and his movements sharp, despite the gentle coaxing of his voice. I still didn't understand how he had known his kinsman was approaching, but as he prodded to my feet, and out the door, it mattered little. I let him wrap his fingers around my wrist and lead me through the mazes of a hell.
It was ridiculous. Really. I get that. I didn't question, didn't wonder, didn't do anything but trust him, follow him, put all the faith in the world in him. But how could I not? Itachi was scared. I saw the fear in the line of his mouth, the set of his jaw and draw of his eyebrows. He had never been scared before. He was scared, and he was scared for me.
Listen.
Around noon, I went into a town and grabbed us lunch. We had made good headway, that day, despite the fact we were running on too-few hours rest. When I returned to the outskirts, near a high canyon wall, Itachi was gazing up at the gathering clouds, a line between his eyebrows.
"It is going to rain," he said.
I handed him his food as said, "Meh. I don't know. Maybe tomorrow." He cocked his head, shrugged, thanked me and scooted over, leaving room for me on the large, smooth rock he had settled into. I handed him the change, told him about the old women I had watched stub her toe and cuss like a sailor on my way to the food vendor, and told him no, thank you, I have my own food and really don't need yours too.
I asked him what we were doing next.
His mouth twisted. "There is information I must retrieve. Then we will make our way to Kohona." He cast a furtive glance my way and tried to pretend he hadn't. "I promise it will not take an excessive amount of time. The informant will be just at the meeting place tomorrow."
There was a twinge in my gut to Itachi's words. It was guilt. It was guilt because I was not as upset by the additional time as I should be. I recognized it, recognized the danger it represented, and, after ony a few heartbeats, decided I was not going to think about it anymore.
"Informant?" I squirmed. "Um. Well… does that mean…" Then I squared my jaw, and there was amusement behind Itachi's expectant face. "If you're planning on killing him, I'm not going to let you."
Itachi froze. Then he stared at me. I stared back, keeping all my hopes and fears dammed up tight, reminding myself that this was Uchiha Itachi, that I was Haruno Sakura, that he was Akatsuki, that we were different, that I already knew he was a murder and I didn't care that he killed still because why would it matter to me and –
"I am not going to kill him." He almost sounded like he was stating the obvious.
I could have questioned him on it. I could have clarified the situation, found the why. I should have. I didn't, because my voice was lost somewhere in the waves of relief I let myself feel.
He didn't kill the guy. I watched from a high tree branch. He didn't kill the guy but he scared him. Sometimes, I forgot that he could be scary.
He didn't kill the guy and we headed towards the next meeting point, where Itachi was to deliver the information to another Akatsuki. Despite all logic, I was excited, eager, wishing we would just get there and be done with it. After this final exchange, Itachi would be done, for the time being. When I asked him how this was, why he wouldn't be rejoining Kisame immediately, how he could possibly just take time off to escort me to Kohona, his reply was honest if not informative.
"They permit me my space."
"What does that mean?"
He offered my a quick smirk.
"They fear me."
Sometimes, I forgot how scary he could be. Apparently, I was the exception.
We were at the meeting place, and my hair was brown, and my palms were wet.
We were at the meeting spot and suddenly, Itachi froze, tensed, looked for all the world like a arrow that had just been strung, deadly potential just ready for the go ahead. I froze too.
"Run," Itachi said. I didn't move, couldn't move, didn't understand. "Madara is coming." He turned, eyes bright, face alive, one hand reaching out to shoo me. "Sakura. Run."
I ran. I ran until I couldn't feel Itachi, and then I ran some more. I ran until the sharp edge of my fear had faded, and then I slowed to a jog. I knew I was overdoing it, but – well – Madara is fucking scary. I ran because as long as I was running, I didn't have to think about who I was running from, who he was with, the implications and possible consequences of such a meeting. I didn't want to think about my Itachi talking to that man, I didn't want to think about the plans they might be making, the webs Madara might be weaving, the wickedness he could set into motion.
Eventually, I just stopped.
Before long, Itachi came running.
I knew it was him long before I saw him. He knew it was me long before he saw me. When he barreled into sight, he didn't pause before he was right in front of me, hands at my shoulders, at my face, running along my sides without touching. Remember how I said he had been scared, the morning before, whispering , he's coming? Well. That was nothing compared to this.
"You're ok," he said, searching my face.
I wanted to laugh, because my chest was constricting and I felt like I had to do something to relieve the pressure. "Yes."
"I didn't think they would send him – I never imagined – It didn't occur to me – Are you sure you are alright?"
Then I did laugh, full and high. "Yes!" I laughed again. "I survived an almost-encounter with one-third the last Uchiha."
He opened his mouth, started to raise a hand.
Thunder made the air shake.
The raindrops started off slow.
Five seconds later, just as we took shelter beneath a small rocky overhand about twenty meters away, it started pouring. Over the roaring of the thunder and the pounding rain, Itachi told me, with this look of pride and joy that made me want to throw my fist in the air and cheer, "He had no idea you were anywhere near."
I don't know why that mattered so much to me. I don't know what made that secondshine so brightly. It wasn't a huge deal, just a blip, but everything added up in those few seconds and before I knew it, I was throwing my arms around Itachi in an enthusiastic embrace.
"I'm going to tell you a secret about life," I whispered close to his ear, lacing his fingers with mine as if it I did it all the time. I pulled away, into the rain, and he followed along with me, feet dragging. Within seconds, his long hair was sticking to his face in shiny clumps, and I could feel the cool pitter-patter against my skin. He was glaring at me, the expression made obsolete by the way his lips kept twitching into a smile. A smile. God. Laughing, all full of bubbles like light, I grabbed for his other hand, started twirling in circles, my enthusiasm making up for his lack.
The Akasuki were gone. Madara was gone. The mission was complete. Itachi was smiling in the rain and letting me make him twirl in wild, tipsy circles. Itachi was my Itachi, the Itachi of baby smiles and long ring fingers and hidden expressions that you just had to look for and I suddenly knew that my Itachi was the real Itachi and that that mattered more than any lie he told the world.
I shouted through a giggling grin.
"It's beautiful!"
We were soaking wet, the rain was still going, and since we couldn't stand under that little overhang all night, our 'shelter' became a rough camp composed of a conveniently shaped tree and two of our largest, thickest, most water-proof blankets. Even then, our little tent was barely big enough for the two of us, and we were forced to lay side by side, shoulders maybe two inches apart, staring at the ominously droopy fabric of our roof.
They were miserable conditions.
"This sucks," I said with gusto. I was grinning for sheer joy.
"You seem a little too happy about that."
"I am. I am way too happy about this."
There was a smile in Itachi's voice that I couldn't see for the oppressive dark. "You are impossible."
"That would be you, Itachi. Compared to you, I am a perfectly possible, probable, normal human being."
"This is true." The smile was gone. I jabbed an elbow his way.
"Don't get all depressed on me. God. Can't you just appreciate the moment?" I was drunk on the moment, high on the moment, riding the rush of the storm and this insane bubbling tide that seemed to be taking me away. "No pity-parties. Not tonight." I paused, considered, laughed. "Have you ever been to a sleepover?"
"No."
"Well, we're having one. Right now. You and me. We're having a sleepover and that means we have to tell either happy stories, play truth or dare, or tell ghost stories."
His voice was once again amused, happy. "Those are the rules?"
"Those are the rules. But please note that if you tell a ghost story and it scares me, I will be a miserable brat who keeps you up all night making sure there is someone around to confirm that noise is not, in fact, a monster."
"I would not let a monster eat you," he said, as matter-of-fact as anything, serious as you please, absolute in his conviction.
In the dark, he could not see the smile that bloomed up from way down inside me, threatening to split my face with its force. There was a heaviness in my chest, a lightness in my limbs, a feeling of fullness in every cell of my body. When I spoke, I could hear the content rolling from each syllable. "I wouldn't let a monster eat you either, Itachi."
Are you ready for this?
I loved him.
Only… Only not the way that I might have. It wasn't some wild thing that started with pity and grew to passion. I wasn't… I wasn't like the story where the monster falls in love with the princess because she's just so damn sweet and he's the sexy villain to counteract all her goodness so in the end of course they're in the midst of passionate throes. Or something. That's a story, right? Well, it wasn't ours, because I was a squalling potty-mouthed ninja with a flower-marked history and he was a patricidal madman too cautious to be sexy and too full of love to be a monster and we – we weren't like that. We were like friends who knew the difference in one another's smiles; like soldiers in the same foxhole, holding hands and praying; like the family you can get absolutely furious at but still worry about with every other beat of your heart; like strangers passing on the street, casting backwards glances over your shoulder because fate feels like spider webs; like a million other beautiful things that I could ramble about for the rest of my life but I won't because you don't care. Conclusion: throughout the whole damn ordeal, from the wanting to kill him to praying I could save his life, I never… I never had a crush on him?
Oh, sure, every now and then I would catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye and have to remind myself to breathe. He's beautiful, you know. Devastatingly handsome, all sharp, proud features and long pretty hair – I am not blind, and I am not stupid. I knew he was good looking – he looks like Sasuke, after all, and I did spend a good portion of my childhood crushing hard on that kid. But Itachi could never be like Sasuke, because Itachi was always more dangerous, because an instinctual part of me understood he was not quite unobtainable, farther away even as the lines between him and I started to blur. Thinking those thoughts was never allowed, never something I would let myself do, because of his brother and my home and our history and the stupid list goes on and on and on and on.
But it didn't stop me from loving him.
I don't know how to explain it. I guess it's like this: You have a crush on someone because you want them, because you see something in them you would desire to be near you, because you want to possess them and keep them; because they make you feel alive and stoke the simmering flame in your belly. But when you love someone, it is different. You don't want them, because they already have you; you don't lust, because you are full of this steady, kind, patient thing that leaves no room in your stomach for butterflies and knots; you wake up everyday and you don't – you don't think about what they could do for you, just about how you can make the world right by them. And when I looked at Itachi I didn't see his perfect face or his hard muscles, his power or his history. I didn't see my future or my dreams or my anything. I just saw Itachi, as he was, as he could be, and it was the most perfect thing in the world. Does that make sense? Gosh, I don't know. All I know is that what Itachi and I had was no tension-filled fling, no dancing around desire. It was easy and simple and pressure less and it was him taking care of me and me taking care of him and a million little moments that were nothing more than mundane and nothing less than extraordinary.
I loved him, that long wet night beneath our two blankets, our shoulders two inches apart and our voices growing horse as the night became day.
I loved him.
I still love him.
It is beautiful.
note: Friends. Friends. Friends friends friends. I have fanart. Seriously. fanfiction(dot)net's very own someonestolmyname created the piece. It's fabulous. The link it on my author's homepage. Can we all just take a second to FLAIL BECAUSE THIS IS THE MOST EXCITING THING EVER, WHOA WOW AWESOME GREAT HELL YES SWEEEEEET?
In other news, I might revive my livejournal, for the express purpose of justifying why I am writing this story the way I am. There is a method to my madness, and I think if I type it all up, it will make more sense in my head too. Yay, nay, um?
Final note: いきましょう = let's go. As in: WHOOT WHOOT LET'S GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD! Or, at least, that's how I used it when I lived in Japan. (Always got to throw that one in there when you're not actually Japanese and you are trying to pretend you know the language. )
