Itachi looked up at the silver sliver of moon floating in the night sky like a drop of food coloring in a glass of water, not yet dissolved, not yet settled, as if debating whether to float or sink as it drifted eerily, hovering over his head. Sasuke wasn't quite awake yet, but he was getting there. He and the younger Uchiha had only slept a few hours, not much time lapsed between night and morning. This distressed Itachi; he'd hoped to kill time asleep, escaping the world, sleeping a long time just cradled in each other's arms. Sasuke had been stupid, looking for him, and he had been stupid too, looking for Sasuke. It made no sense that they loved each other. They should've hated each other. But of course, they did hate each other.

That was the only explanation for the throbbing gash right under Itachi's ribcage.

Itachi tasted blood from where he had been biting his tongue all night trying not to say anything to his younger brother. He sighed a long, heavy sigh and glanced down at Sasuke, a motionless heap in his lap. He was snuggled against Itachi's chest, inside his black-and-red robe. Which Itachi hated. Too close, too close. Personal space had always been an issue. But Sasuke was resting on the slash he'd given Itachi with that kunai last night, and for some reason his warm shoulder was making it hurt less. He would give anything not to move. But he had to, and he knew it. It would end very, very badly if he stayed. It always ended badly when he stayed. He got up, brushed himself off, tugged his cloak together and started to walk away.

It was so much easier to walk away.

-----

Sasuke looked at Naruto standing there in the rain, blonde hair plastered to his flawlessly chiseled face, drenched and chilled to the bone, and found himself speechless.

There was something vaguely familiar about this picture, and he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

Soaked and dripping, Naruto simply stood there locking eyes with Sasuke. It was a face he hadn't seen in way too long. No matter what anyone said, Uzamakis and Uchihas ought to belong together. There was something about looking at the hopelessly wet Uchiha sitting there staring at him that made him want to laugh. He was so gorgeous, that defined face, his small nose, his blocky cheeks, his dark eyes, his soaking wet blue cloak. His fine brown eyelashes plastered to his perfectly arched cheekbones. His jet-black hair, some of it sticking up in slick spikes, some of it, sopping wet, framing and hugging his slim elegant face. You could call it an infatuation, but to Naruto it was nothing like that.

When you word it like it's a scientific measurement, love sounds nothing like what it is.

There was a thin red gash running down the length of Naruto's thigh from slipping up with a handful of shuriken, and to Sasuke it was a huge turn-on.

But no matter what devious thoughts were running through his head, Sasuke couldn't move. Frozen in place, he just stared and stared at the slash on Naruto's leg, just stared and stared at those catscratches, remembering what they used to do together.

Used to.

There wasn't much left now, though.

Naruto and Sasuke used to be in love. They used to sleep in the sunsets and touch and kiss and know everything about each other. By now they'd forgotten everything, every shiver, every howl, every second they had spent together. But when Sasuke's red and black eyes watched Naruto, memories flooded back. And when Naruto's blue blue eyes watched Sasuke, he started to remember things. He'd tried so hard to forget everything after the brutal breakup—it was a few minutes after that last tangle of legs and bodies in the snow, kissing and snapping limbs and fighting while they loved. Naruto's wrist was broken, and Sasuke had a few deep gashes on his neck. Naruto had even forgotten what exactly happened, and for the time he forgot it was peaceful. He could never forget who broke up with who, though, even though he tried harder than ever to forget that.

Sasuke had tried to forget that, too.

The Uchiha didn't want to do the dirty job of ending it all, splitting them apart and all. But it just didn't feel right, and the blood on the snow was a good reminder that he had to do it sooner or later. And because Sasuke was impatient,

he chose sooner.

And even though it was all past now, there was something about it that wouldn't erase as time after time flashed by and everything came back to mind. It was hard to forget breaking up with someone you wanted to stay with more than anything.

Naruto's ripped shorts flapped a little in the racing icy wind for a moment, and Sasuke caught sight of that scratch again.

He stood up and came forward as a spark in him flared up. What else was there to say? Not much, really. He felt like there was a fuse getting ready to go off inside him, and he was braced for a boom.

A big boom.

Naruto took a few shaky steps forward, too, and the look in Sasuke's eyes blew him away. They put their palms out in perfect synchronization and touched each other's fingertips, slowly closing the space between each other's hands, as if touching a mirror. When Sasuke's lips met Naruto's, another memory came back.

It was of the two of them in the rain, a few months ago, Naruto hanging from a tree, Sasuke standing on the ground with an umbrella, and their faces a hair's breath away.

It was perfect, Sasuke's lips gently parted, Naruto's mouth open as they found the only way they could really afford to hate each other—loving each other. Streaks of raindrops soaked everything; their clothes, their hair, their faces. But it didn't matter, because Sasuke loved the rain.

And whether Naruto liked it or not didn't really matter.