Logomachy (n.):
A fight about words.
In some species of spider, offspring will kill their mother for sustenance. A selfless cause for a mother, to give her life for her young's survival.
As I stared at the air behind him I really wanted to remind Itachi that he killed his mother, not for survival, but because he wanted to. Glancing up, our eyes briefly met before both sets darted away. His face hardened from the corner of my eye.
The day he killed everyone and left his baby brother with nothing but hate in his tiny soul was the day my sympathy toward his actions ended. He could treat me like nothing, but to shatter a little boy's future like that… it was unforgivable. No matter how much I wanted to remind him of this little fact I realized that I couldn't push him like that. No matter how evil it was in my own opinion, no one could kill their own mother without shedding tears. I'd seen it all first hand.
Thus I held an unintentional gaze on him, wishing I could magically know the right thing to say and go back to talking as if everything was normal again.
Several feet stretched between us on the blood and water soaked wood floor. I watched the time tick by as the sun's rays grew shorter and shorter. The morning moved on in silence until the sun was beating down directly overhead. Spider webs of heartbreak were strung between us. I tried to pull away from the tug. Unnerving as it was, I knew that he could make me bend until I shattered into pitiful forgiveness if he truly wanted. But I wanted to be free of his hold over me. I held the distance and didn't say a word.
Allowing him to look tortured and alone for a while gave me this odd sense of satisfaction. It was cruel of me, but I didn't want him to begin thinking that I forgave him for murdering my closest friend.
His head lifted, but he remained staring at the ground next to my knee, emotions still battling for territory on his face. I imagined that he was trying to keep me from seeing that emotional battle take place. His long, dark bangs covered his eyes, they were probably what would give him away. Then, with shoulders square, he looked me over passively, staring at my knees then trailing up my green vest, and pausing at my throat before continuing up to my eyes.
His eyes were bloodshot from coughing so hard, narrowed with an unfathomable despair, "You think you have me all figured out."
Ice cold air seemed to solidify around us, shooting goose bumps up and down my arms. He was back to his new persona. His voice was calm with no real emotion behind it. I found myself reeling, grasping for his meaning. Rocking onto my tip toes, I tilted my head curiously. He was suddenly a different person again. It was giving me whiplash trying to keep up with him.
There was nothing to figure out. Facts are facts. He killed his clan, that was a fact. He broke my hands, and that was also a fact. If he hadn't killed his family then both of our lives would be very different. My opinion of him was that he was a murderer and an asshole, which were also basically facts. There was nothing to 'figure out'.
Blinking, and completely puzzled, I placed my hands on my hips and angled my head up at him with an uplifted eyebrow, "Care to clarify?"
After a quiet breath he looked back down at me with those stupid pretty eyes of his. "Reality is a multifaceted projection of what you choose to believe; what you define as true creates your reality." He continued with closed eyes and slightly clenched jaw, leaning back ever so slightly on one arm, giving me another opportunity to admire him. Over the years he matured in the best possible ways. It wasn't fair to my crazed teenaged hormones. His jaw seemed to have elongated, or maybe his face was just thinner. His hair was longer, but the color remained the same raven's wing gray.
His body shifted, leaning forward as if I pulled him toward me, "Katsue. I'm many things that you will never understand." Energy passed through his sweet, dark eyes, like he was trying to express something far deeper than what he was saying. "All I am, all I'll ever be, is whatever you define me as."
I didn't understand. I was at my wit's end trying to decode all of his seemingly random bits of wisdom.
"You're confusing me with all of these mood swings." I lifted one brow mere millimeters, "What is all of that supposed to mean, exactly? You mean to say that your reality is different from mine? Because I don't believe that. Not after everything that's happened." With a deep sigh I continued with weakness in my voice. "I once saw you as someone important, someone who showed me how to be my own person and accept my flaws. You forced me to see myself under a different light, but now…" My voice trailed off. "Now I'm someone different, just like you are. You're not the same guy I met in the cafe under my apartment, and I'm not the little girl you kissed by the river. We aren't children anymore, Itachi. Just because you say your version of reality is different from mine doesn't make your decisions right. You can sit here in that stupid cloud covered cloak all day and tell me how you've never changed and that I simply don't understand you. But all that would mean is you're a liar and and a sociopath. That you lack any real emotions. And I know that isn't exactly true because I saw you that night." Itachi's dark eyes flickered when I said that.
Some emotion crept from Itachi, filling me with this kind of heat. I couldn't identify this particular emotion, but whatever it was, it took over his mind. I glanced over at him to see his jaw clench and release at my words. He was trying to filter his thoughts like whatever was on his mind was dangerous.
"That is exactly what I mean." He regarded me quietly. Those deadly, black eyes paired strangely with his relaxed pose. He spoke each word carefully, as if to a wild fawn fearing that I would spook and run off. "In my mind, your importance never ceased." He paused with a tightened expression, his eyes soft and round, "You made me fall in love with you."
Hitching my breath, a small noise gasped from my mouth in surprise. I'd been expecting him to lecture me on how emotions are only for the weak or something. The way he said those words made it seem like he held a grudge against me for making him feel that way. Shifting back a little, I retreated and looked away from his eyes.
More webbing wanted to bind us closer. But I resisted. I wouldn't let it happen again. I wouldn't fall for this. I wouldn't tell him I want him back in my life, that I loved him now as I always had. Those words wouldn't change anything; it would affect my ability to get the information required to complete this assignment. His words had an awesome impact on my heart. The way he looked so helpless on his knees across from me paired with his tender articulation. For just a moment, my sweet Itachi embodied this villain. His eyes beseeched me to say something, anything. But I held my tongue and heart tightly. If I lost this battle now, I'd lose the entire war. I'd be stuck under his spell again, and I couldn't have that. Not right now. Not when people depended on me.
Minutes passed in silence as I held my mouth shut with effort.
Eventually he just looked to the ground in front of him with a small wistful smile, embarrassed. "You found someone else. Who? The Aburame?"
My jaw hung open, offended. "You seriously think I'd date a guy who has insects living inside him? Do you even know me?" I held out a hand sarcastically with a big salesman grin. "Hi, I'm Katsue Kyusho and I hate bug of all shapes and sizes, nice to meet you."
He took the hand and tugged it hard; jerking me forward to catch myself with the other on the floor. My knees dug into the dusty floor, now far too close to him.
He pressed my fingertips to his lips with a soft kiss that melted my heart. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, I'm a liar and a sociopath."
The memory of Sora's ruined body made me freeze. A frown pulled at the sides of my mouth, solidifying my melted heart. "What was up with slicing my neck open, by the way? You've held a knife to me twice now. That's definitely not cool."
Darkness shot through my psyche as his eyes softened with a remorseful twitch. "You collapsed into the blade, not the other way around."
I cocked an eyebrow, irritation traced my features, "So? You couldn't move fast enough? Oh please." Rolling my eyes, I pulled my hand back and folded them on my lap as I sat back into a kneel. I mumbled to myself, "You shouldn't have been holding a damn kunai to my neck in the first place." Rolling my eyes, I rubbed my bandaged neck and sighed heavily with a hint of morbid humor, "Anyway you homicidal sociopath, I need to do my job. So quit trying to chat like we're friends or something and get writing."
The little smile on his face disappeared along with the trembling red admiration I could feel from his soul. Shifting through his cloak, burning scrolls appeared between each of his fingers with a pen in the other hand. Our eyes met with a silent understanding. Those were for the correspondence notes. After pulling more sealed scrolls from some secret pocket inside of his sleeve, he popped one seal open and got to writing, using the floor as a writing desk.
I got up and wandered the place. The sun was now completely up, lighting the dust that covered every surface. The air glittered with the stuff, creating a veil over the entire space.
Shivers chilled to the pit of my stomach. Pictures of Sasuke as a kid sat on the windowsill, riddled with dust from the many years of loneliness. I swept my thumb across the glass, smudging some of the mousy grey color out of the way so I could look at each picture more carefully. Their mother was stunningly beautiful with long midnight hair like Sasuke with Itachi's ink black eyes. Their father, I recognized him a little from town as a kid. At school he was always there to give safety lectures. Under their father's arm was a young Itachi; the one I fell so hard for.
I looked around to a bed, a window, a dresser and a bookshelf filled with books. We were in Itachi's childhood room. The thought made me blush.
Loud silence met my ear, the scratch of Itachi's pen ceased. He must have finished writing. Making my way over to the darkly clad man on the floor I tried to peek at what he wrote over his shoulder. Before I could, he snapped the scroll shut, sealing it, shooting a deadly glare over his shoulder. I jumped back and waited impatiently. Ending with three notes, he sealed the bands securing them, then he motioned me over. I tumbled to the floor in front of him, crossing my legs. He pushed them into my arms firmly, maintaining full eye contact. His hands lingered over my lap momentarily as I watched his mouth move, "Hokage's eyes only."
Lingering in that position, I became very aware of our proximity and leaned away. With the ghost of a smile, Itachi stood, towering over me. My eyes traveled from his feet up to his eyes, my neck bent at a ninety degree angle to see his face.
Terrible thoughts burst into my head like a bullet ripping through my brain. Memories of my captain laying nearly dead on the ground. Sora asking, no, begging me to run away with my life. Tearing the bindings from my body to stop the bleeding. Itachi kicking Sora's mutilated body, making the giant shuriken shift painfully in his side and nearly ruining the work I did to stop anymore blood from seeping through. Those strange sharingan that ruined Sora's mind for months. Looking at Itachi now, I figured if I didn't ask now, I may not get another chance. This may be the only time I'd be able to speak to him like this again for the rest of our lives. It wasn't fair for me to live in the shadows like this whenever it came it this particular man. I needed to know what he was capable of if I was supposed to 'forgive him' as my brother requested.
I had to know.
"Were you the one who hurt Sora?"
Long black lashes flickered, betraying their emotionless mask. Red and green emotions were hard and sharp in my mind; love and envy.
"Why do you ask?" He pulled one arm into his cloak, blinking innocently, thinking he'd managed to hide his emotions from me. Little did he know how much I'd honed this skill of mine.
I hid the scrolls in my shuriken bag then jumped to my feet in a fluid motion.
"You did, didn't you." I narrowed my eyes at him, now completely pissed off. "Why? What did he do to you? He almost died! And at that, his brain basically melted from whatever you did. He only got out of the hospital last night."
Lips tightened on his end, lime green jealousy dappled embarrassed yellow with a swirl of angry red. "You cannot hold everything against me, not entirely."
The sun was high in the sky, it would be hot outside. The sunshine and green grass outside were in stark contrast to Itachi's pale face and general darkness. I was sick and tired of his excuses.
"I'm not screwing him, if that's what you think." His whole body flinched away from my overt wording. "I really can't believe you'd hurt someone over something so stupid." I heard his teeth grind a little, setting his jaw hard, obviously conflicted. I rubbed my face with my hand, knotting it through my long bangs with a heavy sigh. "Just for the future, if this correspondence is to continue cordially like this, just please…" I searched for the right words on the ceiling, before looking at him again. "If you need to kill people to make you happy, or whatever, just keep me, this village, and my friends out of it."
The creases under his eyes seemed to darken as his eyes drooped in another unfathomable expression. I felt like I finally got the last word. I turned and padded across the room, swiping my shuriken bag from its hiding place behind the curtains. He thought he was so sneaky hiding it there. He really thought I was inept at being a shinobi. I rolled my eyes and beelined for the stairs, ignoring the weight of his gaze on my back.
"Katsue." He whispered after me as my hand reached for the door. In his tone, what he really meant was, wait.
As much as I wanted to ignore him and run down those stairs, I couldn't do it. All I did was glare back at him and slowly turn to face him. He was dying after all. At least that's what I told myself.
Lips pursed, I placed my hands on my hips again in defiance. "Hokage told me I have to stay until nightfall. Judging by the light, I'm stuck here for at least six more hours. What, exactly, can two people who hate each other talk about for six hours?"
He took a few soundless steps toward me and I met him in the middle, moving from a hallway and through his door again. He was looking down at me with this expression that no one else might be able to decipher but me. He looked mournful. He looked like he just wanted it all to stop. I'd seen this look plenty of times when we were younger. His hand touched the curve of my neck, using the flesh of his thumb to tilt my chin up toward him. His eyes looked to be memorizing every line and scar on my face, trying to figure out where I'd gotten them all. Luckily my pale skin helped fade most of the scars I'd received through the years. Then, while lost in thought, his lips covered mine possessively, pushing me back until I was shoved hard to a wall. The wood clattered loudly at the force. Itachi's fingers laced themselves around the back of my head, pulling me ever closer, deepening the intimate contact. His lips parted, demanding my compliance. Admittedly, I didn't put up much of a fight. The very tip of his tongue ran across the inner edge of my upper lip. A mindless whimper escaped.
Embarrassed, I smiled against his lips.
Pulling away carefully as not to offend him or something, I reopened my eyes. All kinds of emotions were emanating from him. As if on instinct alone, his body repossessed the space between us again. Large hands overtook my whole back, pulling at the center of my spine until I could feel his heart beating against my own. One hand slid up the column of my spine to cup the back of my skull, forcing it to bow up at a sharp angle. It was clear he didn't want to stop. Warm air was all that separated our lips, but they didn't touch.
"Forgive me, I'm sure your boyfriend wont be happy about this." Speaking so close to my lips, his eyes caught mine, half hooded and sensual. Overtaking the small space, he took my lower lip between his teeth and pulled my face closer. He curved his palm against the nape of my neck, tilting my head back slightly so he could press his cheek to mine and speak into my ear, air tickling the warming my sensitive lobe, "I guess I just don't care."
...Where did he get this idea that I had a boyfriend?
"Did you say something?"
Why were my thoughts coming out of my mouth lately! I needed to get a new brain-mouth filter. Heat rushed my cheeks, "No, I don't believe so?"
"You did, tell me." Worried, he gave me a reproachful stare as he loosened his hold.
Taming the blood flow to my face, I cocked an eyebrow up at him, "Why do you think I have a boyfriend?"
There, I asked. Happy now, brain?
Hurt emotions crashed over his posture, dropping me entirely, leaving my body cold and wanting.
"Stop lying to me, Katsue. I've seen it all; the flowers, the notes." In a flash, his face was back to apathetic and neutral. I wanted to punch him right in his handsome nose. Itachi had the audacity to glower down at me, "'With all of my love' he writes."
Hiroto. I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut. That idiot...
Wait, what?
Extending my arms I pushed the middle of his chest, forcing him to step back as I crowded him. "You've been reading my mail!?"
"Avoidance is the same as lying." His eyes didn't need to narrow to give the appearance of suspicious anger.
My face dropped. "So you're calling me a liar and a slut. Thanks for that. Now, where did you hang your halo?"
He acquired the crumpled look of someone who ate a lemon whole. "Sorry." He said a bit too loud, turning slightly so I could barely see his raw expression. "I've missed so much and now..."
Each word was pronounced like that of a sulking teenager, which I guess he was. I rolled my eyes, was he really doing this right now? As if he had the right to be upset about it anyway. Hiroto thought he loved me and I broke his heart. Sometimes that happens. But for that particular guy, he liked to try and be romantic in an attempt to win me back. Those stupid letters! Grr!
I'm not entirely sure how it happened but I grabbed a handful of black cloak in one hand and pinched his chin between my thumb and forefinger, forcing him to look at me directly in the eyes.
"I. Do. Not. Have. A. Boyfriend." Enunciating each syllable of each word, I spoke to him like an invalid. "He's is in love with me. We dated for a while but ended when you kidnapped me not too long ago." His eyes lit up with comprehension. "And before you say it, no, did not sleep with him. Not that it's any of your business anyway."
It was pretty funny. There I was, a five foot nothing, holding onto an Akatsuki member's face as I reprimand him for behaving like a crazy ex boyfriend. With wide ink blot eyes, it seemed that he was put off by the news, or maybe at his silly, jealous reaction. This time it got through to him. Yellows and greens faded into a mist of violet and red. For a guy who was smarter than most doctors, he could be pretty damn dense. Typical man.
The wall's wood grain ground into my bare scalp as his lips sealed against mine again, this time with the force of five year's frustrations and relief. His hands rested against either side of my head, his thumb resting against my ears, fingers behind my skull. The contact was not gentle. It was demanding and coarse. One hand trailed my side, only stopping to pull his fingers against the pockets of my vest. His forehead pressed against mine and stole my gaze as my heat rate sped up.
He was beautiful. All of the time. Even when he was breathing heavily and sweating from an unidentifiable suffering with those hawk-like eyes closed tightly. It made my heart ache.
"Itachi..."
Slowly his breathing grew more controlled. A hand smoothed the side of my face, gently rubbing my cheekbone with his thumb as he looked down at me, his eyes were so worn.
"The thought of you with someone else..." An abrupt breathy laugh. "It's disgusting."
He thought that the idea of me with another guy was gross, yet he's the one who successfully killed his entire family?
I let out a small, marginally fearful giggle. "You're telling me."
A real, broad smile crossed his face.
"Since when does that kind of stuff bother you, hm? You never used to get jealous." I mused aloud, running the backs of my fingers along his hard jaw.
"Just because you don't understand an emotion doesn't mean you don't feel it."
I smirked at him. "Trust me when I say you have nothing to worry about."
Leaning against me, he pressed my back against the wall and leaned his head against his own forearm above me, his shadow overtaking my face. "Do you own a mirror?"
"Yes…?" My voice came out very small in the space between our lips.
"Try looking at it sometimes. That's their purpose." His eyes were closed, but I could hear the humor in his voice. He was trying to compliment me in his own way.
My ears turned red as I thought about my looks. "I look exactly the same as I did before, like a piece of bleached out paper." He rested his forehead against the top of mine and smiled, pressing his lips to my hairline gently. "Since you won't let me leave, what would you like to do for the next 5 hours and 55 minutes?" I asked, still weary of this position we found ourselves in. He must have sensed this because he leaned back to give me some space, but the distance didn't last long as his fingers reached out to my face like my sking was his drug.
Brushing the long strands of white hair from my face he grumbled passively, "Summarize the past five years."