free talk:
apologies for the delay—thank you for your patience and support in the meantime. for obvious reasons, this was a hard chapter to write. a huge thank you to wingedmercury for her help. i highly encourage you to read the LJ post (link on my profile) for this chapter; i had a lot to say.
xoxo,
m.n
Chapter 25: Forgive Me
"Did you get a little taller?"
Sasuke's red eyes glared in the dark at his brother's harmless inquiry. Itachi really had only meant to make a simple observation, one that made him glad as he surveyed his younger brother. Three years of training…Sasuke had grown strong. Nonetheless, the comment seemed to rile his little brother.
"You haven't changed," Sasuke said. "Especially those cold, merciless eyes of yours."
Itachi scoffed. "You're not going to scream and charge at me like last time? Looks like you've learned a little bit."
Sasuke's eyes narrowed, and within a blink of an eye, he had disappeared from sight. A jolt of electric chakra suddenly pierced Itachi from behind, thenthe single shaft split into ten.
"You know nothing," snarled Sasuke, "about me, about what hatred can make me do…"
"True…" said Itachi almost lazily. "You have grown much stronger." His shadow clone began to fade into crows. "Tomorrow…meet me at the old Uchiha hideout. We will settle this there."
The shadow clone's experiences joined the real Itachi's as he sat in the comfort of the cabin. He opened his eyes, pleased with his performance. His breakfast, barely touched, stood cluttered on the table next to him. Miho's share of porridge was growing steadily colder but, surprisingly enough, she was still sleeping.
Itachi looked at her still profile. Though Miho had reported to him occasionally that her weight was normal, he found that hard to believe. The last several weeks of intense surgical training and whatever had happened before that with Konoha seemed to have taken a toll on her. She seemed perpetually tired and last night had proved to him that she was indeed thinner than he remembered her to be. It worried him.
As Miho breathed in and out, a short wisp of hair fluttered up and down with every breath. This reminder that she was alive did little to assuage Itachi's concern for her. Numbly, he thought that in twenty-four hours, he would be dead, and he had to think about what would become of Miho. She was feverishly preparing for his surgery, and Itachi felt a pang of guilt knowing that it would never come to fruition. Miho had caught on to the sense that Itachi had no desire to live and seemed to be doing everything she could to prevent his death from happening. Perhaps it would have been kinder of him to tell her to stop, that her efforts were meaningless—but telling her this meant that he needed to provide a plausible explanation and consequently The Truth, which he could not.
What would Miho do once he was gone? Would she cry? Would she hate him? Would she forgive him if she knew everything that he had long withheld?
No, she would not. She would hate him even more if she knew The Truth because it would solidify the way he had treated her his entire life, reminding her that she had never been the most important factor in his life; that even after years of blind loyalty, he would throw her away for Konoha and for Sasuke. It was better that Miho did not know The Truth.
But if Sasuke killed him, Miho would undoubtedly hate Sasuke with every fiber of her body. Could Miho kill Sasuke? Sasuke was stronger than Miho, but strength was not everything. Miho was smart and more levelheaded than Sasuke. One step could lead to death. If she did kill Sasuke, it would undermine everything that Itachi had done for Sasuke's protection. If Sasuke killed Miho on the other hand…
Itachi sighed and massaged his temples. Another factor to take into consideration.
Kisame's chakra moved from his bedroom to the living room. Itachi stood up and also went to the living room, making sure to shut the door quietly so that Miho would not awaken.
"Good morning, Itachi-san," said Kisame. "She still sleeping?"
"So it seems," said Itachi. "Kisame-san, a word with you outside, please."
"We are outside."
"Outside the cabin. Miho could wake up any second. I'd like to make sure our conversation does not fall on her ears."
Kisame looked perplexed but obliged. Once the two of them were outside, Kisame asked,
"What's going on that you'd need to hide it from her?"
"This morning, one of my Kage Bunshin ran into Sasuke. He has a competent team of three shinobi with him as well, all of them who are Orochimaru's specimen. Tomorrow, I will go and meet him at the old Uchiha compound."
"Tomorrow?"
Itachi nodded.
Kisame looked dubious. "You're going to fight him now?"
"Mm."
"Couldn't this wait until after your surgery? Miho-san said that your heart is operating at only fifty percent. The surgery could set it right completely."
"Kisame-san," said Itachi in the driest voice he could manage, "I am confident that I do not need my full strength to deal with Sasuke."
"True, but this battle will exacerbate your current condition and that will set Miho's surgery plan back even further. You can push this battle off for another week at the least."
Itachi shook his head. "Some matters require timely and immediate attention. Sasuke will not wait, and the longer he waits, the more dangerously closer he is to upsetting more of Akatsuki's plans. He has already killed Deidara."
"Face it, Deidara was the weakest out of all of us," said Kisame sourly. "You don't need to worry about the remaining members when right now, you're in the worst state out of all of us. Delay the fight."
"I cannot."
"Why?" persisted Kisame.
"Because," said Itachi tersely, "my eyesight has deteriorated to the point that I can hardly see something two feet away from me. I need my brother's eyes in order to cure this impending blindness."
"…Your what?"
"The Mangekyou Sharingan is a great and fearsome power bestowed onto a very special class of Uchiha," explained Itachi. "However, its power comes at the price of the user's vision."
"You're going blind? And you never told any of us?"
"I am very accomplished at hiding things I want hidden," said Itacih dully. "It is a particularly useful skill of mine."
"Of all people, how has Miho-san not—"
"Miho is much more preoccupied with my heart condition," interrupted Itachi, "and rightfully so, because it is much more dangerous. I have managed to hide my eyesight from her because it's not something I want to be nagged about when I know how to obtain the cure. It was just the matter of when."
"The cure? There's a cure for blindness? You could make a fortune off of that," said Kisame acerbically.
"It's specific to the Mangekyou condition," said Itachi, ignoring Kisame's clear sarcasm. "For centuries, the Mangekyou's side effect has been countered by the implantation of a fresh set of Uchiha eyes…those of a blood relative."
Kisame was finally beginning to understand.
"So you need Sasuke-kun's eyes to fix your blindness."
"Yes. It should not be difficult to procure, but for obvious reasons, Miho would be strongly against this. She still harbors affection for my foolish little brother…it would be best if we kept this plan to gouge out Sasuke's eyes away from her."
"I see. And you need me because…?"
"Sasuke has a capable team of shinobi. They are nothing too difficult, but not trivial, either. I would like you to ensure that they do not interfere with my fight with Sasuke."
"Easily done. What will you do about Miho then, to ensure she doesn't interfere?"
"That is hardly an issue."
Kisame nodded again, understanding. "Fine. Is that it?"
"Mm."
"Good. I'm going to be gone then—I'll meet you in the old Uchiha compound tomorrow morning."
"Where are you going?"
"Miho-san has completed her wonderful experimentation and has asked me for another favor," said Kisame. "I have to clean things up."
Itachi knew exactly what Kisame did to "clean up" and chose not to dwell too long on the prospect when Kisame seemed to be in an excellent mood. Perhaps Itachi would pray for their poor unnamed souls later…but then, he remembered that he would also be dying the next day, and then decided that someone else would have to do the job for all of them. The thought of his impending death surfaced at the most unexpected times, surreal and hard to digest.
Kisame turned to leave.
"Kisame-san."
"Mm?"
"I do not anticipate that Sasuke will prove to be capable of besting me tomorrow. Nonetheless…"
Kisame knew where he was going. "Itachi-san, if there is the slightest possibility of Sasuke-san being able to kill you tomorrow, delay the fight until after Miho has cured you. Your eyesight can wait."
"…Fate does not change her course for the sake of individuals," said Itachi. "I am a man who merely prepares for all possible scenarios, regardless of their unlikelihood. It is how I have survived."
"I know, but this is something you can control."
"Kisame-san, why do you insist on challenging me?" said Itachi coldly, his eyes gleaming red.
"…Itachi-san, sometimes I wonder exactly what you think of Miho-san."
This was not what Itachi had been expecting. He knew Kisame could kill Miho without a second thought, yet the last several weeks had shown a slight change in how Kisame treated her. Providing her with prisoners, even advocating for her in front of Deidara and Tobi. Of course, Itachi did not forget that this was all for his own benefit—Kisame had also been the one to insist on killing Miho after she had come close to slicing Itachi's spinal cord.
Nevertheless, the inquiry seemed out-of-place.
"You are hardly a sentimental man, Kisame-san," said Itachi. "Why the sudden question?"
"I'm not sentimental, but I'm not stupid," he said dourly. "I do not care about her, but even I feel sorry for her at some points. You're throwing her…three years of planning out the window to fight your little brother."
"I'm not 'throwing them out the window,' so to speak," said Itachi in a steely tone. "I am merely adjusting her agenda."
"You are jeopardizing your own life and therefore her efforts," replied Kisame. "You are just as conscious of it as I am—perhaps even more so. Don't you find it funny that I'm speaking up for her now?"
"Of course I find it funny," said Itachi icily. "I find it laughable to see that my partner of nearly ten years is finally showing some compassion. What was it you always told me, Kisame-san? The foundational moral of S-Class criminals is to have none?"
Kisame did not reply.
"If anything," continued Itachi, "what you're saying now borders dangerously close to 'morals.'"
"I'm not being moral. I'm being…"
"What?" said Itachi with infuriating superiority. "You're being human?"
A significant tension rose between the two of them. They had been known to be the pair that got along best in Akatsuki—perhaps it was because both of them had slaughtered their brethren and could therefore understand something about each other—or perhaps it was because both of them knew intrinsically that their orders came from the villages that they had thought they could trust. Kisame had warned Itachi countless times not to cross him, and Itachi knew that Kisame's bite was worth more than his bark, yet Itachi could not yield now. His Sharingan swirled into its Mangekyou form, and for a split second, Kisame's hand twitched to reach for Samehada.
Several seconds passed. Kisame was too proud to retract what he had already stated as a fundamental law. They would either fight, or Kisame would yield. Itachi was prepared for either.
"Fine," said Kisame at last. "I'll stop asking. What else do you want?"
"I did not mean to make things tense between us, Kisame-san. There are merely things that I cannot fully explain even if I wanted to. I must meet Sasuke tomorrow."
"I get it already," said Kisame curtly. "What did you want?"
"…Miho has been Akatsuki's prisoner for long enough. If I die…I do not want her to continue suffering at our hands."
"You want me to let her go?" said Kisame. "You know I can't do that—she knows too much."
"She knows nothing that Konoha does not know already. Hatake Kakashi—"
"No, Itachi. I can't hand her over."
From so many years of knowing Kisame, Itachi knew when he was being stubborn for the sake being stubborn or actually being serious. Kisame's tone had taken on an edge and after getting so close to a skirmish, Itachi was asking for too much. Kisame's loyalty resided with Akatsuki. No matter how much Kisame invested in Itachi's health, and had therefore made exceptions for Miho's existence, Kisame had done it all for the benefit of Akatsuki. Should Itachi no longer be in the picture, Miho would be nothing but a loose end to tie up and cut. Sentiment. Kisame was right—he was not sentimental, he was just not stupid.
"Then I ask you do the job yourself," said Itachi after a pause. "Don't play with your food like you always do. Make it quick and painless."
Kisame nodded. "Leave it to me."
When Miho woke up, she was as indifferent toward Itachi as ever, as if the night before had never happened. Itachi could not help but feel as if her daily cycle of emotions had settled into a routine—nonchalant in the morning, passionate at night.
"I'm going to make some finishing touches to the operation room," she said, shouldering her bag and preparing to leave. "I'll be back later."
"Kisame is cleaning things up right now," said Itachi. "It's best not to disturb him in the middle of his…fun."
"Then I'll go and gather some herbs."
It was clear that she wanted to leave his presence, but she did not know what Itachi was planning. It was his last day. She could not leave him now, when he needed her the most. He caught her wrist before she reached for the door.
"Is my company so distasteful?" he said lightly. "You have been eager to get rid of me lately. If a day were to come when you did not have this opportunity to enjoy my presence, surely you would regret your actions now?"
She turned around to face him, her gaze resolute.
"Everything I'm doing now," she said, "is to ensure that that day will not come."
"…I know," he said, kissing her on the forehead.
The action caught her by surprise and her gaze grew suspicious.
"What are you doing?"
"Mm?"
"You don't do things like that," she said coolly. "Not unless you have a motive."
"Why are you constantly so wary of what I do? I have no motives, Miho. You have worked hard for the last several weeks. I have troubled you greatly—I only wanted to convey my appreciation."
She did not look convinced, so Itachi brought his hand up to her cheek.
"Kisame will be absent today," he said. "I would like to enjoy your company for the time. Will you indulge me?"
She did not answer immediately, instead studying him half-appraisingly, half-amused. Itachi did his best to emulate what he hoped could be considered a "puppy-dog" look. Judging from Miho's expression, it was not a look that suited his features.
"Goodness, what is wrong with you…fine. I suppose I've been hard enough on you."
"You have," he agreed. "I have repented, goddess."
"Itachi, if you say one more creepy thing like that, I'm going back to my herb picking."
Itachi chuckled and kissed her gently. Miho sighed and dropped her bag to the ground before wrapping her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Itachi's hands trailed to her waist and lower. He abruptly cupped the round of her bottom and she gasped, allowing Itachi to address her now exposed neck. The tail end of her gasp morphed into a quiet moan as she held him tighter with every firm but gentle caress. He guided her slowly back to the bed, but Miho hesitated.
"We just got out of bed," she said, struggling to maintain composure but swiftly succumbing to his hands as they slid under her robes. "Maybe…maybe we should do something else first."
"This suits me quite fine," he said quietly, sitting her down on the edge of the mattress.
"Itachi, we—"
"Miho."
Perhaps he was having more difficulty composing himself than he thought. There was something in his voice that made Miho look up at him, worried.
"May I?" he asked softly.
Miho looked as if she wanted to say something, but Itachi only returned her gaze passively. Right when he thought she would refuse, she grabbed the edges of his shirt and brought it over his head. Without another word, he climbed over her and dragged the drapes closed behind him. There was only one day left.
"You were fourteen, Itachi."
"I thought I'd already turned fifteen."
"No. Your birthday was several weeks later."
His hand ghosted up and down Miho's spine, dancing across the surface of her pale, smooth skin. She rarely showed him the extent of her true body, no matter how passionate the sex was. Some part of him marveled at her self-control; the other worried that he was not performing quite as well as he thought he was if Miho was still able to maintain the bare vestiges of her chakra so precisely. He looked at her now, though, and knew that some parts of her chakra control were second nature to her: suppressing her chakra signature completely, hiding the scars of her torture, and sensing for the disturbances of chakra around them.
They were talking about the past. The road down memory lane was one that Itachi often had difficulty traveling down. Miho remembered much of her childhood with startlingly clarity, even if they were the silly, insignificant memories. Itachi, on the other hand, only flawlessly remembered things regarding his duty and mission. The emotion-laden memories…the ones from the night of the massacre and before…were blurry, whether by the natural progression of time or from his unwillingness to recall them.
"You don't even remember our first mission together," said Miho. "You're really intolerable for a husband."
"It's not like remembering our first life-or-death situation together is romantic," said Itachi dryly. "Details hardly matter, Miho."
"Quite the contrary," she said. "Details are everything—they built up to the significant events. I activated my kekkei genkai on that mission, remember?"
"Ah. Yes, I suppose that was rather significant."
"No. That was a detail. The significant event was you being an idiot and drinking my blood undiluted. Who knew that simple mistake would carry our road for so long?"
Itachi chuckled wryly. "Hardly a simple mistake…I remember being hospitalized for quite a while. I would say that was a rather fatal one…then, and now."
Miho did not reply. Itachi looked at her kindly.
"Please remind me of the other details," he said. "The ones that turned out to be significant."
"…On that mission," Miho said slowly, "we found out that our Summon was the same.
"That was an interesting turn of events," admitted Itachi. "I had not expected it either."
"I was so upset," she said with a small smile. "I hated crows to begin with and to find out that of all people I matched with, I matched with you? It was devastating."
"They are not so bad, crows."
"No, they aren't," agreed Miho. "I have grown fond of them…but at the moment, I wanted nothing more than to Summon ninja hounds, like Kakashi."
"Hm. That's the first time I've heard you admit that you liked Kakashi."
"Like," she corrected. "He is a good man."
"Are you trying to make me jealous?" chided Itachi.
She shot him a smirk. "Perhaps."
Itachi smiled wearily. "He is a good man. Haven't you regretted—"
"Stop," she said sharply, all traces of playfulness evaporating. "Don't say another word. You know I wasn't being serious."
He obliged. "Forgive me. That was an inappropriate turn of the conversation."
Miho sighed and brought an arm around his shoulder.
"You know," she said quietly, "that I would do anything for you. Whether or not I regret doesn't matter…I don't think I ever had much of a choice to begin with."
He wanted to say that she always had a choice, but resisted. More than anyone, he understood what it meant not to have a choice.
"Our Summon…" he said, "what do you make of it?"
"Crows? I already said I was fond of them."
"Yes, but…they are interesting creatures."
Miho let the silence linger as Itachi collected his thoughts.
"They say that the animal you Summon is a reflection of yourself, to some capacity. There are obvious ones—like Kisame's Summon."
"Let me guess," said Miho, deadpan, "his is a minnow."
"…Naturally."
Miho laughed. "Orochimaru's is a snake, vile and cunning…Kakashi's a hound, resourceful and loyal…the Godaime's is a slug. That's a bit different—she's hardly fat or…squishable."
"Katsuyu is a historical Summon known for its healing abilities. No other Summon is capable of that. I'm surprised you can't Summon her."
"Shows that the role of the greatest medic in the world rests with the Godaime Hokage," said Miho. "Such a robust Summon is something I'm not worthy of."
"So you were stuck with the inglorious crow."
"As were you."
"…So then, what do you make of it?" asked Itachi.
"…My first thought was that they are not aesthetically pleasing. Of course, that was a child's complaint. I think what truly registered was a visceral reaction to something deeper…a sign."
"Of?"
"Of something…morbid. Something about my personality…they are so traditionally thought of as messengers of death, I thought that either I would be a great curse to those around me, or I would see much death in my lifetime." Miho shifted on the mattress. "I suppose neither of those are incorrect, in retrospect."
"You think you are a curse?" said Itachi.
Miho looked at him. "Sometimes, I think you believe I am. As if I never fail to get in your way."
Itachi did not answer for several seconds.
"Crows are very misunderstood creatures," he said finally. "Humans make it their job to chase crows away, even creating scarecrows for this sole purpose. They think crows feast on the dead, and in literature they are always portrayed as an ill omen…but they are actually the most intelligent kind of birds. Our crows, when compared to so many other Summons, exhibit the best of all traits. They are loyal, resourceful, smart, yet they are quiet, blending in with their surroundings and the night. They seek no glory, attention, or fame. They are everything that a true shinobi needs. Yet, they are cursed."
"…So what do you think that says about us?" said Miho wearily.
Itachi rolled over on his side. He studied her face. Needless to say, he found her beautiful, yet how curious it was that Fate had given Miho such an average face for her personality. Many things in life, she deserved better. Yet, as he stared at her now, he could not deny that in his entire life, he had not been remotely attracted to any other woman.
"Did you know the first time I laid eyes on you was the day you graduated from the Academy?" he said, unwilling to answer Miho's question.
She did not pursue an answer and instead smiled faintly. "Is that so?"
"You looked unhappy."
"Probably because my father had given me some ridiculous lecture that morning," she said. "I was first in my class and he wasn't satisfied. I practically gave up after that. Why were you there?"
"I was just passing by and Hiroki-sensei waved me to approach. He said his daughter was graduating. I had never met you before, so I was curious."
"…And? What did you think?"
"I…it's hard to say. I just remember being intrigued. You were…nine, I believe? Still the youngest in your class. I thought we would've understood each other in that respect."
"You didn't introduce yourself," she said, thinking. "I think the first time I actually spoke to you was right before my ANBU exam."
"Naturally, I was shy in the face of such great beauty."
Miho scoffed. "Shy? You had such a way with words with we started talking…you were hardly shy. It's funny though."
"What?"
"…That was also the first day I met Kakashi," she said. "Just seems funny that it could've been the first day I met you as well."
"I suppose I should've introduced myself sooner, then. We seemed to have wasted several years together."
"Who knows if I would've given you the time of day," said Miho. She leaned in and brushed her lips against his cheek. "It has been a long time."
"Yes…nearly ten years since our first conversation." Itachi let out a breath. "It seems like several lifetimes ago…when we were children."
"Such world-weary words for someone in his mid-twenties."
"I have accomplished several lifetimes of work in these twenty-something years. I hardly remember what it was like to be a child."
"Mm…you were always so hard to deal with. Whenever you were in front of your parents or my father…it was like you were an adult. An equal. I didn't know how a fourteen-year-old boy could be so…"
"Arrogant?"
"No…pitiful."
"Pitiful?"
"As if your childhood had been truncated. As if from the moment you were born, you were expected to be something. Someone great and powerful and…and you weren't allowed to make mistakes. You were expected to grow, but could never do trial-and-error. How could you ever grow that way? Mistakes make you learn who you are. Sometimes, I just felt like you were so lost."
Itachi made no effort to reply, even though the conversation was beginning to make him uncomfortable. Why was it that, even without a set of journals to read, Miho seemed to understand him much more than she let on? The lopsided relationship that she always feared seemed to have turned on its head. Nevertheless, Miho continued.
"Only in front of me," she said, staring on the ceiling, "did I feel like you could revert to a child. The times when we snuck away and joked and pretended like you weren't some ridiculous prodigy…only then did I feel like you were even making an effort to find yourself. If not for those moments…I do not think I would the way I feel for you now. Your actions, killing your clan and joining Akatsuki, and your honor…they do not match up. Nor do they match up with the struggling child you were—the one you should've been. Had it not been for those times that I remember so vividly…I would have abandoned you long ago."
A silence followed her words as Itachi contemplated this revelation. Miho could have abandoned him. This notion was one that he never dwelled on—something in him knew that she never could, never would, because this inexplicable emotion called love was something that he could exploit to no end. Yet only now did he realize that this devotion's basis was shaky, a series of childhood beliefs that he could have crushed somehow, sparing her the kind memories of the last three years that would ultimately make the coming morning much less hard to bear.
"Miho."
"Mm?"
"Crows have another significance. They are signs of divine intervention, of something uncontrollable in the hands of mere mortals. They…they represent rebirth…the possibility of hope after death."
"…What are you saying?"
"Only that you are not my curse. And that the crow…it is our Summon—both of ours—for a reason." He shifted on the mattress so that he, too, faced the ceiling. "I have been fortunate to share it with you. Whether or not you can say the same for me…is a different matter entirely."
Surprisingly, Miho did not answer—and he knew that she agreed.
They ate a simple meal—whether it was breakfast, lunch, or dinner was unclear—and returned to the bed. Drapes shut, in the dark, their bodies writhing, breaths spent, hearts misplaced. He knew Miho could sense that something was wrong but was too afraid to venture and explore it. If only she knew that this issue was immediate, that pushing it off for now was fatal…but Itachi knew that Miho liked nothing less than to discuss his pathetic will to live. He knew it disturbed her, because if he did not live, then she had no reason to. Perhaps it was because he knew this that he had asked Kisame to kill her…though it would be more merciful to do it himself.
"We…we need to stop," Miho panted.
"Why?" His hand slipped under her torso and brought her up on her knees.
"I need to…mm…stop it, Itachi—"
Her hands gripped the sheets as he touched her without reservations—he relished the feeling of her burning skin, the sounds of her every labored breath and moan. It was always during sex that Itachi felt incredibly…full, whole, in some way, contrary to how he felt about his body his entire life. Though most people found sex to be an activity where they lost all sense of self—this was surely true in Miho's case—Itachi found himself to be thinking with startling clarity. He seemed very much in control, knowing instinctively what to do to bring Miho to the edge of delirium and have her forget absolutely everything about him except for what he was capable of making her feel.
He brought her to climax before releasing himself. When he finally let Miho go, she collapsed onto the mattress, perspiration lining her entire body as her eyes fluttered closed. Itachi laid beside her, holding her from behind. The minutes ticked by and slowly, Miho's breathing returned to a normal, rhythmic pattern as she fell asleep in his arms, exhausted.
Itachi found himself overwhelmed with a great weariness as well. He gazed at Miho's back and felt a wave of frustration wash over him—what was he doing? Why was he not taking this time to urge Miho to run, to leave? And even if he could not bring himself to chase her away, why was he merely seeking her touch, indulging in this carnal pleasure—when there was infinitely more to say, when there was too much that Miho needed to know?
Miho stirred and turned around so that she was facing him. Itachi brought a hand to her cheek and caressed it gently, thinking.
He was a man who prepared for every situation. In the event that Kisame would not or could not kill her…he owed Miho at least something in death.
Careful not to disturb her, he got out of bed and dressed himself. The day had waned and the sun shone with the deep reds of sunset. Exactly where the day had gone was beyond Itachi—he and Miho had not left the bed for more than a few minutes.
He borrowed one of Miho's Summoning scrolls and Summoned the journal that they had used to communicate for the past half-year. The feel of the worn pages brought a weary smile to his lips; for ten years, now, this journal had served as their medium. It was odd and ironic that the personality analysis game shinobi often played as part of their duty had been played most vehemently between the two people on the face of the planet who wanted nothing more than to fully understand each other, to…to—yes, he could admit it at least to himself at this point—to love each other as best as they could.
He scanned the filled pages briefly, knowingly, and arrived at the last page that had been written on. Miho had written a note that he had not yet read.
Itachi.
I'm not really sure when you'll read this. I suppose there's not much of a reason for you to open this journal right now, especially when you see me everyday. Knowing this, there's not really a particular "best" time for you to read this. I suppose there are things that are easier for me to write than for me to say to you face-to-face, especially when nowadays, being in your presence puts a strain on me that wasn't there before. I don't know what happened, but after that night I saw you nearly die right in front of me, something changed. I'm not really sure what it was—almost as if I love you less because of it—but I know that's not true. It's not something I can describe in one particular word or phrase. I suppose the only way to put it is that seeing you care so little for yourself made something in me give up.
You know this, Itachi. I have fought for you so hard—so, so, hard. I have fought for what is between us, I have fought for myself, I have fought for this love or relationship or marriage or whatever you want to call it—I have fought.
That night, I felt like I had lost. Worse, I lost to you. Why, of all things or all people, you are my enemy is beyond me. I have tried to ignore this growing realization as best as I could—I attributed my loss to other factors beyond either your or my control. But Itachi, I can't. I can't ignore it. I can't completely ignore that you don't care enough.
Itachi, this realization hurts me in a way beyond your imagination. What is it that you are putting ahead of me? Of yourself? Of us? I don't understand. What exactly are you fighting for?
I know this has to do with the reason behind the massacre. I know that in Konoha, there was a significant tension between the government and the Uchiha clan, one that you were caught between. But Itachi, no matter how much further I dig for information, I can come up with no answer because that answer lies with you and I know you won't give it to me. And for all these years—eight years, Itachi, five years of which we were apart, three of which we have hardly been able to spend together—all these years, you have fought for this reason that you refuse to let go. Why?
Do you realize that on this planet, I am the only person who can accept you regardless of everything? You have killed me, tortured me, wounded me in ways that few shinobi have ever suffered through—yet I still love you. You say I have had a choice in all this—but Itachi, I don't, and no matter how much we try to convince ourselves otherwise, you didn't let me have a choice. I love you, and I know you love me, no matter how much you try to hide it. But the thing is, I love you more than anything that this world has to offer me, but you love something else more. I don't even know if it is love. Is it duty? Is it belief? Morals? Nearly ten years, I have loved you. Since we were children, since we knew nothing to now, when I still know so little and you hold all the cards—even now, I love you. Do you so detest the life I could offer you, of peace, quiet, and rest? If you tell me everything, Itachi, I can bring us back to Konoha. We can live together, we can make that dream I so hesitantly told you become reality. Your way is not the only way, Itachi. I can give you everything.
Please take it.
Itachi breathed in, deeply, and let it out tremulously. Through the drapes, he could see Miho's still profile, quiet and sleeping. He turned his attention back to the pages. Her handwriting was shaky but her words carried a soft resolution. He read them over and over, until he realized that some words had become blurred. Only then did he become aware of the tears that silently rolled down his face. Tears? How long had it been since he had shed these signs of weakness?
She could give him everything.
Yet reading that sentence had made Itachi's resolve to die only stronger. He could not take Miho's offer…he had planned for this long ago, and he knew what he was about to do was right. It was what Konoha needed, what Sasuke needed, and it was for these two things that Itachi could forsake everything. He knew this. He did not deserve Miho's offer.
Itachi suddenly felt very serene. His tears stopped falling, and his heart seemed to beat steadily, unperturbed. He picked up a pen and after a pause, began to write on a spare sheet of paper, not in the journal. Three times he crumpled up the paper and burned it. Three times he started over. Each word needed to be perfect. He could not betray his emotions or hers.
It had been a long, long time since he had taken so much time to write something. When he was finished, the sun had set and the crickets in the creek nearby had begun to chirp their sad melody. The Uchiha hideout was far away; he needed to set out now to reach it in time.
Itachi placed his hands together. Kuchiyose no Jutsu!
The female crow Itachi favored appeared in a small puff of smoke. Itachi brought a finger to his lips, indicating for her to be quiet.
"It has been a long time, Itachi-kun," said the crow.
"It has," he agreed.
"Miho-san has Summoned my brother rather often over the last few weeks, looking for you. You are a hard one to find if you don't want to be caught."
"That I am," chuckled Itachi.
"So what do you need this time?"
"A favor, as always." Itachi paused briefly before continuing. "Tomorrow, I am going to die."
The crow looked at him steadily. Itachi smiled.
"That is a good, faithful reaction," he said.
"I have long known that this day would come. It seems that Miho-san does not yet know."
"And neither you nor your brother have not told her."
"We are impartial," she answered. "We are merely Summons. We do as we are bid. We are not here to judge."
"I see. The impartial divine," said Itachi with a tinge of irony. "Only when you are impartial, watching us struggle without lifting a finger to aid us, are you just."
"…Do you resent us, Itachi-kun?"
"No, forgive me," he said. "I understand my position, and I accept it."
"…Most humans are unlike you," she said. "There are those who fight tooth-and-nail for what they want, no matter how unlikely the odds are." She glanced over in Miho's direction. "She is one of those."
"She is. I Summoned you for a favor."
"Yes?"
"Whether or not Miho-san survives past tomorrow is unclear. If she does…I would like you to direct her to this journal. I want her to read what I've written at the end."
"I see. Do you have a particular time you want me to tell her?"
"No. I feel like you will be a good judge of the best time."
"Very well, I'll do what you say. But Itachi-kun."
"Mm?"
"Do you want her to survive?"
"…Truthfully, no. It would be better if her life ended sooner than later. She has suffered enough, and if she continues to live, she will prove to be a threat to Sasuke."
"Then why do you not end her life yourself?"
Itachi scoffed tiredly. "I have played God with enough lives, haven't I? I have killed her once. I do not think I have the strength or right to do so again."
The moon shone brightly when Itachi was ready to leave. Miho had fallen into a deep slumber. Though it was wiser to leave her alone without any last words, Itachi could not resist. He could not convince himself that he was not reluctant to leave.
He climbed over her and shook her shoulder gently.
She stirred and groaned. "Leave me alone."
"Haven't you slept enough?" he said, smiling slightly.
"I need to sleep…" she murmured. "You tired me out…"
"It couldn't have been that bad."
"I'm tired. Just leave me alone."
"Didn't you say you needed to do something several hours ago? Did you forget all of a sudden?"
Miho glared at him and sat up.
"I needed to do this ages ago," she scowled, noting the late hour. "I don't know what's wrong with you today…we haven't had such an unproductive day in ages."
"I daresay you enjoyed it."
Miho flushed. "Fine, I did. I'll give you that."
She kissed him briefly on the cheek and reached for her robes.
"I needed to do some preparatory check-ups and healing for your surgery," she said, sliding them over her thin body. "Sit down."
He obeyed and waited as Miho brought her hand to chest.
"After this, do you want to eat dinner?"
"A bit late for dinner," he said as the warm chakra enveloped his heart.
"Yes, I know I slept through most of today," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I've been working a lot lately. I needed today to rest."
"I know," said Itachi. "You have been busy. I wish we could have spent some more time together these last few weeks."
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Is there something you need to tell me?"
"…Why are you asking all of a sudden?"
"You've been acting strangely all day. You're almost never this…clingy. Is something going on?"
He waited as she healed him. As always, strength seemed to enter him as Miho continued the procedure, and though Itachi knew she was only clearing his chakra pathways and repairing what little she could, he knew it would help him last as long as he could in the battle with Sasuke.
"Itachi?" she prompted.
"…I have had Kage Bunshin stationed around the perimeter for the last several days," said Itachi slowly. "This morning…I ran into Sasuke."
The hand at Itachi's chest slipped suddenly, causing him to wince.
"Miho," he said urgently.
"S-sorry," she said, immediately repairing any damage that he might have incurred. "…Did you talk to him?"
"Yes."
"What did you say?"
Itachi did not answer. Miho stopped healing him and kneeled in front of him.
"Itachi, you cannot fight him now," she said fiercely.
"Miho, it will be fine."
"Are you crazy?!" She stood up, eyes flashing, all traces of weariness disappearing. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? Your heart is operating at less than fifty percent right now—if you face him now, you will die!"
"Do you have such little faith in me?" he said.
"Itachi, you can't! You can't—listen to me, you are stronger than he is but going in now would be like entering the battle when mortally wounded. Itachi, you won't survive—Sasuke is strong and—"
"Miho."
He said her name with such finality that Miho stopped. She looked at him, wide-eyed and fearful. What was she frightened of? Him dying, or him betraying her? Or were the two actually the same?
"I know," he said gently. "I know already."
Tears began streaming down Miho's face as his words registered.
"You can't do this," she said. "You can't do this to me, not now of all times—I have found everything, Itachi, I can cure you, I can bring us back to Konoha—you can't do this to me now—"
He touched her cheek gently. "I must, Miho. I cannot ask you to understand because you do not know everything. I should have left while you were sleeping…but I could not risk you waking up and stopping me. Additionally…I wanted to speak to you one last time."
"Shut up," she said, retreating from him. "I don't want to hear them. You can't tell me this now, when I've done everything for you—"
He stood up abruptly and held her. She struggled fiercely, but Itachi did not let go; her efforts were soon exhausted and she was reduced to tears, but she did not hold him back. He knew she could not bring herself to do it because doing so would mean accepting, and he knew she would never accept.
"Miho, I have to go," he said quietly. "I just wanted to tell you several things before I did. Miho, it is not that I don't love you. I do. I love you and I cannot deny it."
The sound that Miho made was one that Itachi had never heard before—a cross between a sob and a strangled scream—and it shook him to his very core. She pushed against him, refusing to be held but he refused to release her—
"All these years," she cried, "all this time—"
"I know," he murmured. "I know."
"So what?!" she shrieked. "So what if you know?! You don't care!"
"I do care," he said. "I do. Please believe me."
"Liar." The word shook with such intense hatred that Itachi could not help but grimace. "That's all you've ever been. So what if you care? You choose to do nothing differently. You'd rather leave me to suffer while you go die."
He heard her breathe in shallowly and her body shook with a tremendous effort to stay standing.
"So what?" she whispered. "You're leaving me. You're going to leave me alone…when I have given you everything."
Itachi had no other words.
"Yes," he said. "I am."
She scoffed weakly. "You are so cruel. Why wake me up? What last words? Do you just want to see me in agony?"
"Miho—"
"Don't. Don't say you love me. You don't. Not enough."
"I love you as much as I could in this lifetime," he said. "I know it's not enough. But it was all I could afford, Miho. All I could give you. And I am sorry for it. I will not ask for your forgiveness, not this time."
Upon hearing this, Miho's sobs renewed in strength—she knew as well, that after years and years of asking for her forgiveness of the insignificant things, he could not ask her forgiveness for everything else—his betrayal, twice now, and yes, of leading her to believe all these years that a happy ending was possible. Miho's body seemed to lose all strength and she collapsed in his arms.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. "Miho, I—"
She gripped his sleeves tightly, holding him as fast as she could as she looked up at him, her gaze fierce and fearless and almost deranged.
"I can keep you here," she said. "I will make you stay—you won't go—I—"
He kissed her, barely long enough to count as lingering.
"You can't," he whispered. "You could never keep me here. 'Here' in my arms…neither you nor I exist. Just like in this world…you and I could not exist. Should not have existed. You should have died that night when you were pinned to that tree. Now…it is my time, Miho."
His body began to melt into the shadows in the shape of crows. When Miho realized this, the same sound of desperation erupted from her throat and she tried to grasp wildly at the feathers, the figments of her imagination as Itachi began to disappear from the genjutsu as well.
"Illusions are illusions," he said, his voice echoing as his presence began to disappear. "But what is real may only be the illusion we give ourselves, and what are illusions may very well be the realest expression of our desires. Only in our dreams do we exist together, and how we exist in our dreams is very much real. But this is the last time you will see me, Miho, in our illusions or otherwise. You have given me a happiness that I did not deserve in this lifetime. I just wanted to say…thank you. And for the last time…forgive me."
Before the last feather disappeared, he heard an anguished cry and knew that he had made a mistake at the end again, that he should not have subjected Miho to those last words but he wanted her to hear what she already knew, that he was sincere, that he was grateful…that he was cruel.
Somewhere at the crossroads of reality and illusions, the crows cawed and the gods dictated in their book of all things Just and Fair that Uchiha Itachi had, after many trials and temptations, finally completed his task.