"Lights Out"
Disturbing reports reached Mizoko's ever vigilant ears. Rumors were the potential for an attack on the chuunin exams during the third portion, that someone had infiltrated the system posing as genin. The third section of the exam was of greater significance this year than it had in the past because both the Hokage and Kazekage would be present to watch the fights. Jounin of higher rank such as Mizoko and Genma were posted as personal guards to the Third along with their well-trained teams. Though it was a safety precaution, Mizoko took his post very seriously. Information had been leaked to the Kyusho interrogator that needed immediate attention.
Normally, Hiruko and Mizoko were unable to meet during the day, but for something of this gravity required someone of Hiruko's endless insight. The Sound Village had some unsavory shinobi who were presumably planning an attack on the Third. It was Mizoko's duty and pleasure to seek out all of whom planned on harming Konoha's most respected leader. For years Mizoko had worked with Hiruzen, piecing together strategy for battle squads. Close combat was Mizoko's specialty. Since the last war, Mizoko aided the Hokage with battle strategy in an attempt to retain some illusion of peace to the civilians of Konoha. Shikaku was far more conservative than his younger counterpart. Where the more experienced shinobi was more willing to wait and make well educated guesses, Mizoko was liberal in his attack plans. He believed in peace through superior firepower. Although he understood that every shinobi was a human, he also knew that they would not have gone through the training if they were unwilling to die for their village in times of need.
Glancing at the door from his relaxed position, Mizoko felt the backs of his knees begin to ache as they had for years. The bed was uncomfortably small. His knees hung over the edge leaving a painful ridge across the backs of his thighs. But he was too lazy to move, knowing his legs would shortly go numb from lack of circulation. The bed had been built to suit the height of a tall thirteen year old, not a mentally immature, seven foot tall twenty-something. As if by its own accord, his hand slipped into the disfigured sheepskin bag on his leg to pull out a shuriken. Metal glistened as he turned it in his hand, refracting red stars against the walls from the blinking red light from his alarm clock. Normally Mizoko would turn on the lights so he could glare at the room around him, but tonight he was waiting for his brother.
Hiruko could not be seen by the general public, so he kept the lights out and heavy canvas shades down. Should an agent of Hiruko's caliber be discovered exchanging information with a shinobi they would be terminated. Not fired the way most companies would terminate a worker. But in the way that termites are removed from the floorboards of a house. Hiruko would be killed. No. He would be eradicated. The shuriken's smoothed edge sparkled as he whirled it between two fingers, watching his open doorway out of the corner of his eye expectantly. Somewhat irked.
Blue light flashed from the living room, shining around the corner into Mizoko's bedroom. Electricity sparked into view causing the hairs on Mizoko's cropped head to stand on end.
A man with long, hip length blonde hair peeked around the corner with a smirk directed at his older brother. "'Sup Miz?" He slunk further into view. "Glad to see you survived." Mint green eyes looked to the ceiling in joking remembrance to only a few days prior. "Yeah, that street walker was all over you, I thought she was going to fuck you to death or something." Hiruko teased as he leaned against the door frame, that lopsided smirk still firmly planted on his face.
The woman that Mizoko took home with him was a Konoha kunoichi with a real mouth on her, saying things in public that made even a worldly ASEB agent blush. At some point in the night she made a comment that demanded Hiruko's attention, his face blanched out of mortification at the woman's words. Finally losing his short temper he gave her a a grimace masked as a smile telling her to take it down a notch in the delicate way he had with words. To which, of course, she told him to "go to the store and get some ginkgo belba bark" with a dull expression before returning her attention to Hiruko's tall brother. Confused, Hiruko asked why he would do something so random. Laughing heartily as she knocked back the last of several quick shots she ran a finger up the hard, wet glass suggestively and smiled in the obscene way that few woman could give without a shred of modesty and explained, "maybe then you can finally go fuck yourself'. With that, the two were at an understanding. Ginko belba is a natural aphrodisiac used by old men to help save their sexual relationships. Hiruko then stood on the other side of his brother's newly acquired sex partner to avoid her snide side glances at the small victory. Several other women tried to get Mizoko's attention during their time there but the rough kunoichi wouldn't let anyone else near him. Women didn't ignore the younger brother, but he was so obviously uninterested in their advances that they tended to flock to Mizoko instead.
Hiruko watched as the excitement to see his brother faded as Mizoko leaned back against the headboard of his bed and argued, "Hey, she wasn't a whore, just lonely I guess."
Mizoko didn't like to think of his sex partners as 'whores'. He preferred to call them equal opportunity pleasure seekers. As long as they were cool with the knowledge that they had a strictly sexual relationship, they were fine for a night or two. Emotional bonds were too much to deal with. Because of this theory, someday he would have plenty of bastard children all over the world and that was good enough for him.
Hiruko gave him an exhausted shake of the head, disapproving of his older brother's womanizing tendencies. Rolling his eyes, he folded his arms and gave his philandering brother another toothy, condescending grin. "Correction: she wasn't a whore this time." A kunai whistled past his ear and stuck into the door frame beside his head. Hiruko didn't react aside from that semi-permanent lopsided smirk at his brother's extended hand from the weapon's release. Mizoko's glare had the undercurrent of a childish pout.
Hiruko ignored the attempt at intimidation and lifted the end of a long handful of hair then rubbed it between two fingers, fanning it out to look for split ends, continuing his dangerous taunts, "So, how much did she cost?"
Tense and aggravated, the older shinobi grunted disapprovingly, folding an arm behind his head to change positions. He narrowed his small green eyes at the nineteen year old across the small room. Mizoko never paid for women because he didn't need to. Some men had a hard time getting a little action, but not Mizoko. "Nothing you little son of a-" With a small cough to hide his rapidly rising blood pressure, the older brother stopped himself from arguing back, knowing his younger brother's games. Hiruko liked getting on peoples' nerves, he found it amusing to watch them react violently to words.
"She wanted it as much as me so drop it." Mizoko's comically deep voice took on a sharp tone as he threw another metal weapon past his more successful sibling's ear, cutting off a few dirty golden strands. This one was slightly closer to the teen's face, still not receiving a reaction. "You're no saint either, little brother." Mizoko accused bitingly.
Mizoko liked to point out that he was the older of the pair in an attempt at demanding respect from his more well-connected, genius sibling. It aggravated him that his brother was better respected than him in every aspect. If one of his younger siblings mentioned his name to a sensei, they would speak of Mizoko's many achievements. But if they spoke of Hiruko, all other conversation would stop. People in the room would stop what they were doing to hear about Hiruko's latest achievements. They were interested in Hiruko for his odd abilities, where Mizoko was born with no special talents. Only strong will and brawn. He scowled at his baby brother's non-reaction to the encroaching shuriken and kunai shots. Mizoko also liked to point out their significant size difference. Hiruko was a solid foot shorter than him. Though, size would not matter if Hiruko ever decided to fight him. The smaller man had the unfair advantage of being born with a new kekkei genkai. One that had never been seen before, not even in the family bloodlines.
With a heavy breath and a broad grin that stretched across his face, Hiruko shrugged up against the door frame and blinked his eyes closed briefly as if conceding a loss. Hiruko glanced around without moving his head so Mizoko wouldn't ask him what he was looking at. Still decorated as it was when they were children, Hiruko studied every detail of the four walls surrounding them. The two brothers once shared this room, before their sister was born. Faded blue wallpaper which framed the room was bleached from 25 years of mistreatment. Dog ear tears seemed to trickle down the seams. A massive tapestry hung over the large man's disproportionately small bed depicting some ancient patterns that had been passed down the family tree. Hiruko was almost embarrassed. Not only for his brother but for the family as a whole. Even their younger sister lived on her own. Hiruko couldn't help wondering what he wanted from this immature life. The man seemed to have no goals, no future, only to wake up each day breathing to go drink his memory away and bury his sorrows in some nameless woman each night. To live without a goal was to live as if you were already dead. Yet here he was, with their family crest hanging proudly above his undersized bed.
Thuck.
Thuck.
Thuck.
Kunai jutted out of the wall next to Hiruko's leaning stance as Mizoko tossed them toward a hand drawn target next to the door that had been scribbled there when Hiruko was four. Hiruko knew what the large man saw when he looked at that irregularly shaped bull's-eye. Everyone from his squad during the war saw the same face when they trained. When Mizoko developed new Kyusho manipulation to inflict more pain or perfected his latest lightning release jutsu, he was envisioning the death of one man from Iwagakure, the Hidden Stone. The enormous man's first sensei was killed before his eyes at a young age, so young that he was unable to help. That was the day that Mizoko was honorably promoted to the rank of jounin for his excellence in the face of war. He managed to dispatch his sensei's killer while managing to save twenty other Konoha ninja from a miserable death at the hands of a Stone shinobi's earth release technique.
Lightning styles came more easily to the Kyusho family line which put him at an advantage toward earth style chakra manipulation. Mizoko worked hard to master both lightning and earth elements just to spite the man who killed his beloved mentor. The family's main fighting style required an intense electrical connection within the enemy's body along with their own. One must be able to control and manipulate the electric currents in another's body, which is what made the fingertips so important to the style's success. Glancing down at his own hands as they balled up his knotted hair. Hiruko clenched them, dropping strands of gold. He was not the same as everyone else. The hands attached to his forearms were used for very different purposes. Purposes that were unforgivable. Purposes that everyone needed to exploit for the Hokage's safety. Hiruko was endlessly envious of his older brother's normal life.
"Alright whatever you say, Miz." Hiruko allowed with another toothy smirk that just barely masked a jealous scowl. "Let's get down to business." He added in a deeper tenor. That terrifyingly stern look reappeared in the place of Hiruko's normally playful smile, seemly transformed into a different person as he looked to his watch angrily. "I only have another twenty minutes, so spit it out."
Mizoko flicked the eyelet of his kunai around one finger and swung it in circles, seeming to think through the whirling weapon's whistling chorus. The lounging shinobi tilted his huge head so it leaned against the wall next to him gazing up at the water stained ceiling. "You need to let me know if anything crazy starts going down before the fights." The 'fights' were the third round of the chuunin exams. He continued as his eyes connected with his younger brother's. "There are going to be a lot of influential people there. I'm in charge of the north wing of the stadium." That scowl-pout returned as his dejected stare turned to the target next to Hiruko's head. "Gamblers put a lot of money on these fights. I can't have kids dying just because of some under the table bets."
Without waiting for a response he continued, "What do you know about the Hidden Sound?" Mizoko didn't look back to the doorway as he mused aloud, "There have been rumors…"
There was a hurried sense about Mizoko's explanation. He was trying to hide something. "I'll see what I can find out for you." Hiruko answered to the first request and allowed for a small smirk, knowing it would open his brother up. "There's something else," a more serious rhythm took to his voice. "Let's hear it."
Mizoko's eyes dropped to the twirling knife in his lap and stopped its movement with a thick, leathery finger. "You know better about this stuff than me."
The small distance between them seemed even smaller as an uneasy topic appeared seemingly out of thin air. Both of them sensed the heavy pressure of nerves. Hiruko's professional stance was intimidating, even for a shinobi like Mizoko. The man was born into a child's body. When they were kids Mizoko would call his baby brother a midget, saying that he wasn't a kid, but an adult in a small body. Ever since they were children, Hiruko's appearance seemed to belie his years. There was something in his movement that alluded to worldly knowledge; dangerous knowledge.
A meaningful exchange appeared to occur between the brothers as Mizoko's thick brows knitted together agitatedly. "I need to know what Kat's been doing lately,"
Hiruko's eyes dimmed blue before he blinked hard to cut off his own ability before he could unintentionally invade his brother's mind.
"She ran out of the Uchiha compound this morning, limping pretty badly. She lied that she was visiting some old ghosts." His brow wrinkled heavily at the memory, turning the kunai in hand before tucking it behind his pillow, leaving his arms to prop his head to better view the ASEB agent. "Lying and interrogation are my specialty like Dad. I know she's keeping something from us, Hiruko, but I don't know what."
By 'us' Mizoko meant both he and Hiruko. But what Mizoko didn't know was that his younger brother was only one who was completely and fully aware of the real situation. The only thing that concerned Hiruko about Mizoko's explanation of Kat's activity was the limping part. Did Itachi hurt her? If so, the plan he set up may have to take a back seat to killing the little Uchiha. If not, Hiruko may be driven to finally using his ability on the little girl. As much as Hiruko hated lying to his own blood, he needed to maintain Kat's cover story for her own safety. For now, at least. Not even Hiruko should know about Kat's mission.
Pulling a kunai out of the wall in a smooth motion, he flung it hard at Mizoko only narrowly avoiding his brother's head when the point connected with the headboard as if to punctuate the importance of his words. "She's being utilized as an assassin, the compound is the ideal place for her to get her head together after each mission." The end of his sentence trailed darkly, alluding to the nasty work of paid killings. "You know as well as I do what Kyusho killings can do to a person."
Mizoko looked away from him, hating the truth in his brother's words.
"Yeah, I heard something about that..." Mizoko muttered as he hooked a sausage sized finger through the kunai's looped grip and jerked it out of the wood. "You'll let me know if you hear something, right?" he looked up at his mature younger brother, referring to everything they spoke about during their short meeting. "I don't want to lose anymore sleep over this."
The trusting glint in the blonde's eye nearly made Hiruko laugh. The poor guy had no idea how few truths he knew. If only he knew how dark the village he would so willingly give his life for truly was, using children like chattel. Leaning back against the doorway, the slightly smaller lab coat adorned agent answered with darkness in his voice, "Yeah, I've got it covered."
The shock of electricity blossomed in Hiruko's chest, informing him that he would be moved shortly. Probably to Itachi's latest location for further observation. Hot anger boiled in his stomach at the thought of watching Kat's abusive lover boy. Itachi had always been a passive kid, it made Hiruko wonder if the pressure of his deep cover mission was finally beginning to break the Uchiha apart at the seams. It was going to be a long few months of endless paperwork if the little fuck decided to go berserk. Hiruko audibly sighed and looked over his brother's trusting expression with mild irritation that he would now have to erase Mizoko's memory.
In an effort to prevent any real collateral damage to Kat's mission, Hiruko closed his eyes to start the process. Familiar bubbling sensations fizzed the area behind his eyes, electrifying the air around him until he was entirely aware of every nervous impulse in the room. Every breath, every cardiomyocyte's reverberation, every small neurotransmission. Each crossed his mind at blinding speeds. Pulsing a small wave of electricity through the air from the very surface of his skin, he sensed Mizoko begin to fall victim to the lightest version of his kurage jutsu, affectionately known as 'the jellyfish jutsu'. Aptly named for its ability to incapacitate anyone without their knowledge, like a jellyfish's invisible tentacles used paralyze victims. Though rather than poisonous barbs, Hiruko used pulses of a certain wavelength. Unless Hiruko specifically wanted his victim to remember him, they would become numb, then lose all memory of the confrontation. Or realistically, whatever memory Hiruko wanted to make them forget.
When he opened his eyes, they were an effervescent sapphire color in the place of his typically matte light mint irises. Mizoko looked to have fallen asleep with his eyes wide open, his pupils slightly blurred. They were glazed over as he seemed to deflate into the pillows, sinking into the bed comfortably. Hiruko knew that he was completely unable to see or feel. He didn't hate using his ability, it fed his god-complex and let him continue believing that he should be permitted to use the full extent of his kekkei genkai.
Hiruko bent over his brother and looked into those vacuous eyes and commanded plainly, "explain everything."
Droning like a zombie, even going so far as drooling, the enormous man described the scenes involving Katsue in a monotonous voice. Hiruko felt the memories reflect across his mind as if he were seeing them first hand, even feeling the emotions that his older brother had felt at that exact moment. He saw Katsue leaving the Uchiha compound. It was early morning. White light was barely creeping over the horizon. The air smelled bright and clean with hints of grass and dew. It was clear to Hiruko that his brother intended to go there to mourn his fallen brethren, and dead lover, but found their sister instead. He could feel the shock and confusion, even small traces of betrayal. Every detail was specific and clear. Her hair was matted and grey instead of its typically pure white, skin flushed from exertion. Something happened to their sister. The smell of blood and painfully wincing eyes with every quick step with every step made Hiruko's blood burn in his veins.
Something had to be done to ensure that Itachi wouldn't hurt her again. Hiruko drew a small band of metal from his lab coat. It was a light silver halo with two probes tipped with conductive blue gel pads. He stepped toward his zombified brother and placed the device over Mizoko's dull green eyes that stared into nothingness. Pressing two clamps down so the probes pressed to his temples. The placement ensures that the hippocampus would be directly affected. He held two fingers parallel to the band. Electricity pulsed through the gap of his fingertips and into his brother's brain. Still feeling the impulses begin to alter the memory, he worked this part like a well rehearsed ventriloquist. He watched behind his eyelids as his brother's memory faded until he could no longer see the images or hear Kat's simple lie ache his ears. The memory of Kat's misstep would be gone forever, the memory had been ablated. It would be as if he never saw her running and never experienced that brief conversation with her at the Hokage's tower.
Hiruko removed the device from his brother's ham sized head after feeling that pulling, tugging, painful energy pull at his existence. Moments later blue electricity ripped his physical body from Mizoko's room, leaving the big lug dazed and sleeping uncomfortably.
There comes a time in every man's life when he is faced with the dilemma of providing a shoulder for a woman's tears and hiding his heart away to avoid the suffering she would ultimately cause. Sora had already done that with Anko when the pretty woman had sobbed loudly that she was going to die single and alone in the middle of a restaurant. Having accompanied her to help with her relationship problems, Sora was blushing at all the attention from the surrounding restaurateurs. He pulled through bravely and managed to get her home with his hoodie drenched in lonely tears.
If only he had the ability to turn her away, to shake her by the shoulders because the man who loved her from the time they were children sat across the table, slowly dying at her careless words. Anko would never love him in return, he lacked the personality to interest a woman of her ferocity. It was only two days since he was released from the hospital. When he arrived at home there was his beloved kunoichi, lounging in a revealing mesh shirt with her tan jacket hanging open suggestively across his low couch. She helped him get through the door, calling him a pansy for letting some shuriken almost kill him. He smiled into the high collared hood that cocooned his face, knowing that was the closest thing he'd ever hear to 'I'm glad you're alright' from her volatile mouth. His best friend took him out to a seedy bar to celebrate his survival. She latched onto a boisterous man after a few shots kamikaze shots. Sora went home alone.
He was surprised when Kat showed up on his doorstep later that night. She hadn't visited him in a while and lately she was spending more time on assassination missions than with her team. Sora thought Kat looked rather pretty dressed in a baggy t-shirt and pants with her iconic scarf wrapped around her shoulders, but there was a darkness in her normally bright, cheery eyes. Instinctively, Sora knew his comrade was hurting so he led her inside with a comforting smile.
She didn't say anything, but remained sitting silently at his kitchen table, staring at her ungloved hands. Without words, he understood that those scars were a harrowing memory of some terrible trauma she'd faced in the past, like everyone else he knew better than to ask about them. Sora casually ordered tempura from a delivery restaurant he had found months ago and sat with his friend quietly, not wanting to infringe on her personal space. The food arrived. He tipped the boy. He fixed both of them plates. She took one bite, chewed, and began crying.
Sora held his friend tightly as she shook, becoming once again, that guy to brave the tears of a beautiful, neglected female.
It was strange. I wasn't entirely sure, but I think it was that connection with Itachi that drove me to seek Sora's company that night. Mizoko forgot about our plans to go out, leaving me to suffer alone in my ever darkening apartment. For a few lingering moments I considered going to the bar alone, but decided against it. That could only lead to a bad trend in behavior known as alcoholism. If this loneliness was something I'd have to endure for the rest of Itachi's life, then I couldn't start drinking this early in the game. That could only end badly.
I took a bite of shrimp tempura. The tension in my jaw made my abdomen clench, which ignited that forlorn pain between my thighs, reminding me how insignificant I was to the one I loved. Sora held me securely, even going so far as letting me crash on his couch. I couldn't be alone. Not tonight. Not with this feeling of emptiness and aching pain. Not just between my legs, but also in my hollowed heart. The man I loved was somewhere in the world committing some unforgivable crime while I sat here wishing I could have gone with him. For what reason? It felt like dying. I felt used, even though I knew it was illogical. He probably wanted to stay, but couldn't because of some higher power's command. At least that's what I told myself.
Time flew by; I went on a few missions with genin and chuunin to keep them safe and teach them a thing or two. My team basically dissected itself once Sora got out of the hospital. Senji and Yua were working with two new teammates. Lately I hadn't had much time, so the three of us lost touch. I was being placed from group to group as a mentor, mostly with genin, which was nice. They were easy to handle. It was only annoying when they decided to mess up badly, then I got chewed out and that was not particularly enjoyable.
I went out with my older brothers at night. Mizoko met me almost every day for dinner and Hiruko popped in every few weeks for a drink. He seemed to be making more of an effort lately when it came to visiting the family. No one mentioned my trips to the Uchiha compound, I assumed Mizoko was just letting it go. Mizoko would try arguing me into dating Hiroto again. Hiruko would scowl at him and eloquently tell him to, "fuck off with that idea". I tended to agree, after all, I was kind of in love with someone who wasn't a complete moron.
It grew more and more apparent that Hiruko knew something about my mission. He would hint at things that only Itachi or Arashi should know about me.
We were in randomly comfortable positions strewn across my apartment. Mizoko yawned with a huge stretch. "Hiroto's a great guy." he directed an unconvincing smile toward me, "c'mon Kat, give the guy a chance."
My textbook was huge in my hands, covering my face as I sat in the windowsill. Dropping one corner, I ran a hand through my bone colored hair, thinking of how I wanted to answer. I caught a snag and winced. Both of my brothers looked me over to see what was wrong. They were insane if they thought they could worry over a knot.
"I already gave him a chance. We aren't a good couple, trust me." I argued back at my oldest brother as he lay out over the couch, leaving Hiruko to sit on the armrest between us. Over the course of three weeks, this had become a tradition. I glared at my oldest brother over the top go my 'Theories and Principles of Dim Mak Anatomy' text. "You don't even know what a jerk that guy is, trust me if you knew you wouldn't be pressing the issue."
Hiruko pouted angrily at Mizoko's foot, which was sticking up at an odd angle, nearly touching his face. He glared from Mizoko to the foot, hoping that the big lug would get the hint. But instead the bolderesque man pretended not to notice. The slapping sound of skin on skin met my ears along with a high pitched yelp. I looked up only in time to catch Hiruko's arm retracting from a hard punch to Mizoko's now green foot. "Get your disgusting fucking foot out of my face." The two grimaced at each other as Mizoko curled his foot under his lounging body. "And leave her alone about that lame-ass flower boy." He smiled toothily. "Just 'cause some guy gives you flowers doesn't mean he can hook up with whoever he wants." His eyes flashed over to mine with sharp perception glinting from their light green depths. "Sometimes, the second time is better than the first anyway."
...
Only 39 days until Itachi came back. Kakashi was training with Sasuke for his fight with Gaara. I was pretty worried there. That guy was a menace. He had one-tailed demon sealed within him which made him not only a menace, but also impossibly dangerous to have wandering around Konoha. It really made me nervous. I shouldn't be too worried though. Sasuke was a tough cookie, he'd be okay. If not, someone would intervene to keep anyone from dying. Mizoko was charged with the north end of the arena in case anything got out of control, he would jump in if one of the kids were to go crazy. It would be stressful, but I would watch the fights. See who would make a good chuunin, maybe place a few bets. My money was on Sasuke, but maybe I was just being a little bit partial.
The hourglass remained glued to the table as weeks faded into a month. Lord Hokage wouldn't give me my very own genin team. No matter how many times I requested it, he would turn me down flat. "You have more than enough to consume your time without that burden." He'd spout, leaving me entirely disappointed before turning back to his endless mountains of paper.
Assassinations and babysitting took up much of my time. Anko trained with me every morning, going on about her (now ex) boyfriend was trying to make her into some damsel in distress kind of thing. If there was one thing I'd never accuse Anko of, it was being a damsel in distress. Yes, she was female. But no, she was not a girl. The aggressive passion she embodied made her more attractive in a terrifying 'please don't hurt me' kind of way. Just by spending a day with them, it was fairly obvious how Sora felt about her. He never said a word, only admired her as he limped along with his one remaining lung wheezing from the effort. He was doing well since his near death experience, going for long walks each day to increase his lung capacity. He never did tell me what Itachi did to his brain, but Anko told me to let it go. Apparently it was not something he wanted to discuss with anyone.
Ayumi had me going on assassinations again as back up when she needed me to restrain a body until TI could whisk them away. There were times when I had to watch her kill someone, then there were times when I'd have to slow the target's heart rate to such low pulses that they were left brain dead. I found myself asking those same philosophical questions as I always did. They always popped into mind when felt someone's heart sputter to a halt under my fingertips.
Why do good people do bad things? I was killing someone to hopefully keep them from killing someone else. Someone who Konoha decided was more important. But who were we to decide who should live and who should die? Ayumi would feed me excuses and reasons. Sometimes the reasons were not good enough. Not for me. Those were the times when Ayumi would take over. She was more hardened to this lifestyle. She didn't have emotions toward her victims, she never did. To her, they were just pieces of meat with no past or future. I couldn't make myself feel that way. In my opinion, to lose your empathy was to lose your humanity.
...
My eyes wouldn't close as I buried myself under a thick down blanket. I was too excited to sleep. One more day until Itachi would be back and that stupid one day in between just so happened to be my one stupid day off. Ayumi asked me in to practice a few katas with her. I left shortly after 1300 to visit Sora at home. He was back to normal, maybe a little slower, but certainly more normal. His movements were careful as not to aggravate the huge pink scar that seemed to sew him together. I'd only seen the scars once when the nurses helped him change the bandages around his deeply bruised abdomen. One scar was white, thick and banded, you could see lines where each stitch cinched him closed from the middle of his chest. It circled around his chest just before hitting his spine. The other scar spanned his stomach and waist, this one had a more pinkish color with striations where the muscle had been torn open. It was uneven and ragged from the tearing motion of the shuriken. It was wider than the nurse's hand and about as deep as my pinky nail. Due to his clan's abnormal biology, the healing process was taking longer than usual.
I liked hanging out with Sora and Anko. The two had this strange relationship that I couldn't even begin to understand. Anko would slap his back hard to get a yelp out of him. Then, instead of saying sorry like a normal person, she would holler that he was a pushover. He would hide the miserable corresponding frown under his collar.
He obviously cared for her. It couldn't be more obvious if he had it tattooed on his face. His eyes followed the tall kunoichi around the room with interest in whatever she was doing, adjusting ever so slightly whenever she changed sitting positions or decided to stand. It was like watching the moon and sun shift over the sky. He was the moon. Quiet and innocuous. She was the sun. Bright and violent. I hoped that she realized it. But Anko was a vicious character who desired someone with the same spark of enthusiasm. She could either be perfect for Sora, or the worst possible candidate for a significant other. We spent the day together until Anko had to leave for a meeting. After that I could feel the heat leave Sora's house, leaving him more quiet and subdued than before. I looked out of a window. As my eyes traveled the wall, I accidentally caught his eye. You know that awkward moment when you're trying to avoid talking to someone and you look at them? Yeah, it was one of those. Both of us felt compelled to say something. But he was too shy and I was too caught up in my own thoughts.
Before I could stop them, the awkward question blurted from my mouth, "are you and Anko dating?" I slapped my hand to my face, actively hiding my embarrassment. Somehow I always knew just the wrong things to say. I'm so embarrassing.
Luckily, he didn't react badly to the way I pointed out his unrequited love. He simply regarded me with caution. My pulse quickened. "Sorry, it's none of my business." A nervous giggle rumbled my chest as I tried looking away unsuccessfully.
Silence dropped over the two of us like an uncomfortable blanket. He didn't seem to mind, but the quiet was beginning to get to me. We didn't talk about my mental breakdown from the month prior. He seemed to understand that some things were better left unspoken. It was better that way. He acknowledged that I didn't have to tell him anything and I wouldn't push him for details about his injuries. The reason I wanted to be around people today was to keep me from thinking about Itachi or how slowly the day was going by. I felt bad for breaking our unspoken rule of not talking about personal issues.
"No, we're not dating." He answered in his quiet, sickly sounding voice. Somehow he sounded more out of breath than usual. This was one of the first times I'd heard him actually speak since he was released. His small eyes were pained. "Why are woman attracted to terrible men?"
The question felt directed at me even though I knew better. He was referring to Anko's new boyfriend. He was a jounin with that same grating personality that Senji had. He was loud and obnoxious with womanizing tendencies. Looking internally, I was unsure why I felt attracted to someone as dangerous and uncaring as Itachi. It made very little sense. Sora didn't seem like he was waiting with baited breath for my answer so I sat on his rhetorical question for a while. Was it because of some weird biological thing maybe? That aggression and philandering meant more testosterone? Perhaps women internally convinced themselves that someone who treated them badly could change. Unfortunately, people don't really change. I learned that myself when I tried turning into Arashi. My personality exposed itself anyway, no matter how long I tried concealing it. Time passed and the silence became more bearable. Eventually I left with a smile on my face. Hanging out with Sora was like meditation, I felt almost good about tomorrow. A hot shower and some low quality food would put me right to sleep.
...
Sleep evaded me throughout the night. I was too nervously excited both to see Itachi again and to watch the final section of the chuunin exams. It was only 0200. I just sprawled out and covered my face with a pillow. Normally I'd go for a run or do something productive, but right now I just wanted to curl up and forget the world for a little. There was so much I needed to talk to him about. I wanted to ask him if he was a good person who did bad things, or a bad guy who found it in his heart to love me. For some reason I doubted I'd like the answer.
I must have slid to sleep because the next thing I knew I was walking along a road. It was vast and empty with nothing but flat red earth. The sky was open and silvery gray, every color seemed in contrast with reality. The road came to an endless cement wall that reached to the sky. Shadows of familiar bodies made up the structure: Arashi, Ryu,, Hiruko, Sarutobi, Father. Their bodies seemed painted against the wall. Outlines of people scattered the surface. There was a small window through the grey scale wall, about the size of an egg, just large enough to look inside and only tall enough for me to look through. I stood on my tiptoes to peek through only to see Itachi's red eye staring back at me.
I shot out of bed, throwing sheets in every direction. My body was blanketed in a sheen of cold sweat. It was only 0230.
...
When I first arrived, I pushed through the door to find my Uchiha sleeping hunched up against the wall like he was folded into his cloak. His eyes had black shadows underneath, making him look ill. More so than he normally did. I let him sleep, no matter how badly I wanted to jump on him and watch him freak out. Then again, he'd probably just nonchalantly knock me out of the air mid jump and leave my dissatisfied ass on the floor. So instead, I decided to lay out on his bed and relax, feeling his presence in the room was comforting in itself.
The sun's pink lemonade face peeked over the horizon, filling the room with a pale white light that crept across the floor, slowly easing across Itachi's sleeping face. The room was bright with morning light when he finally stirred awake. One eye at a time I felt his stare intensify. Feeling the tingle of his stare on me, I curled up on my elbows to get a better look at him. He looked like death. The ridges under his eyes were pronounced and dark. Lips were wan and thin. It was scary how sick he was. Of course, in typical Itachi style, as soon as he noticed my appraising wanderings, he set his emotionless mask, covering most of his face with that collar so I couldn't see those pale lips anymore.
If I didn't know him so well, I'd be terrified. People shouldn't be able to mute their faces like that. Humans are emotional, erratic creatures. Not stoic, cold lizards.
Itachi was a cold lizard.
As he looked over at me with a blank expression I became sort of embarrassed. When I passed out on my first day as his liaison, he set me up with a glass of water and aspirin to make me feel better. Me? I didn't do anything for him as he lay there looking like he was at death's door. I didn't even consider it. Dropping back onto the bed heavily, I avoided his eyes by covering my face with a heavy forearm. Feeling his eyes follow me down made it even worse. I flipped onto my side to hide.
A soft chuckle breathed from him as I heard him shift back against the wall. I sent my feelers out to gauge him. I opened one eye to watch his face. He was definitely not okay. Though it was hard to tell what was specifically wrong. There was a mist of pink happiness with big splotches of black anguish peppered with yellow contentment. Like some kind of emotional bowl of soup. He shifted slowly as if in pain. His face never gave away injuries, physical or otherwise. I watched him reach into his cloak. A stack of about seven tightly wound sealed scrolls manifested in his hand. He thought ahead and wrote everything before I even got there. Not standing or trying to get up, he crossed his ankles and leaned back against the wall. He placed the scrolls in a pile next to him. His eyes found me, waiting expectantly. They wandered my face lazily, as if I was holding him up from some important task.
That expectant gaze bothered me. The silence was killing me. No, really another minute of this and my head might explode.
"So... What's up?" I asked in a clipped tone.
He blinked at me innocently, taken aback. Not saying anything for a long time, I cocked an eyebrow sarcastically. Finally he answered, "Nothing, and yourself?"
I smiled, giving up all feelings of aggravation, relishing the start of a normal conversation. "Nothing you would ever care about. Just read some boring books and bonded with my brothers."
His eyes closed from exhaustion as if my words personally offended him. "Why wouldn't I care about those things?" He propped his head against the wall behind him, crossing his ankles further while straightening out. His arms were crossed within the black cloak he wore leaving the sleeves slack at his sides.
One brow lifted with an inquisitive smirk. He never seemed to care about the little things that went on in my life before. Why the sudden interest? "Because they don't really matter to you in the grand scheme of things."
He spoke quietly, not opening his eyes. "Your life matters to me as a whole, Katsue. Not only the important things."
My mouth dropped open stupidly. Well, now I felt really stupid. "Oh." All this time he wanted me to prattle on about useless stuff? I've been living my life all wrong! My whole life was a lie! "Well, uh, my life isn't as interesting as yours. I'd hate to bore you."
There was something vulnerable in his voice. He seemed interested in… something. Maybe he was being manipulative again and I was just losing my touch.
"It's not boring," his long lashes fluttered a little to reveal soft black eyes, "it's normal." My mouth opened to speak but without skipping a beat he segued into a new, more important topic. "Tell me about Kaz." He worded gently, knowing the damage my brother's name would cause.
My heart clenched tightly. For the past few months I'd been trying to avoid the mention of my baby brother's name so I wouldn't need to deal with the pain. The words came out a choked whisper as moisture formed, glazing my eyes. "He's a great kid... So quiet though," I smiled my eyes closed, picturing a memory, "like he's always thinking."
I noticed that I was speaking of him in the present tense. My face drooped. He was now in the past tense, because he was dead. I tilted my head toward the window above Itachi's shoulder so he wouldn't see the tears form in my seemed to notice anyway but didn't react. A bird flew gracefully through the picture window. "He was always distant from us. For a long time I blamed you for it." I glanced over to him from the corner of my eye. "When he was a kid, he was so gentle and loving toward us… after you did… what you did, he just kind of shriveled into a shell."
Now he was looking at me, awaiting further explanation that I wouldn't give him. I didn't want to delve into my depressed mind. Right now I was relatively happy and wanted to keep things that way. No more talk of death on a day like this. I was looking out of the window to keep tabs on the time.
I'd need to leave here around 0900 to her to the stadium for 1000.
Seeing the distraction cross my face, Itachi shifted slightly to get a better view of me. "What're you doing today." He asked on his non-asking way. His eyes were watching my expression to see if I would lie, a common practice of his.
A smile crossed my face. I was pretty excited to go, even if Itachi couldn't know who I planning to watch. "I'm going to see the fights for the chuunin exam-"
"-no you are not." He cut me off. He was suddenly kneeling straight up, facing me with his sharingan eyes only inches from face, shoulders out as if ready to spring out and grab me if I attempted an escape. The sudden movement made me flinch away from his face. At least that's what I told myself. What really scared me were those eyes. They were what really cooled my blood. Whenever his eyes spun red, I was reminded of his awful crimes he'd committed when all I wanted was to think of him as my sweet, passive Itachi.
"And why not?" I probed.
He had been bothered by my fearful flinch. His eyes closed. When they reopened, they had faded to black. His coal eyes bore into me with meaningful implication. "You will not go there. Not today."
That small change in his eyes made me relax a little. He rocked back into a crouch with his arms resting easily against his knees, thinking he'd won the battle.
No way was he winning this fight. "Why though? I wanted to see- uh," I stumbled my words, sharp perception crossed his eyes. He knew who I was really going to see. Luckily for me, he didn't call me out on it. "T-that sand kid. I wanted to see him fight." Itachi's dull expression did not paint the same picture as his emotions. "You know, the one with Shukaku in him?" I continued with my lie, trying to avoid mentioning Sasuke outright even though I'd pretty much shouted it at him.
Without mentioning my blunder his eyes flickered with success and a quiet smile. "All the more reason to do something else."
I made a face at him. Bossing me around? Yeah right. "And what should I do, Your Majesty?" I pouted my lip with narrow eyes, waiting for an answer.
Realizing that he still had a battle to fight, his body stiffened. Eyes wide with a little in something akin to fear. "Anything." His eyes dropped across the room, avoiding my curious gaze. "Anything else, just listen to me." His already dark eyes appeared to deepen in color, shadowed over with misery and anxiety. "Not everything needs to be an argument." This pushed a pin into my defensive heart. His posture became slack and I looked him over warily. He looked utterly defeated: emotionally, mentally and physically.
I started to say something but as my voice began to vibrate into the air, he crumpled into a violent coughing fit. One hand clutched his chest the other went to his mouth to catch the spurt of blood, creating a macabre river down his forearm, dripping to the floor into a small ruby pond. The wracking coughs looked painful and he sunk closer to the ground, his nose nearly dipping into his own blood. Panic froze my muscles. I didn't know what to do.
Clambering over to crowd him, I held my hands to either side of him, unsure whether to hug him or run away. "I know you can't talk with the coughing and the bleeding and the everything but is there anything I can get you? Or do? at all?" The tone of my voice crescendoed a shriek of uncertainty. I was frozen. His breaths between each set of coughs were hard and obviously causing him pain. I could not handle it if Itachi died in front of me right now.
Being stubborn, he shook his head. Frighteningly red blood dripped down his chin as his hand moved away to rub his left clavicle, pressing hard against his sternum. Heart break is a tame term for what I felt in that moment. Seeing him in so much pain and suffering physically burned my heart. All I wanted to do was take it all for him. Whatever he was dealing with, I wanted to take it all and make it go away.
The hacking slowed to a stop and he grimaced at the floor to the bloody floor beneath him. Disappointment shrouded his features as he scowled at the blood. I was unsure if he was angry that he got blood on the floor, or if he was angry to have survived another coughing fit. I ran to his old kitchen and found a rag. The same one I'd used last time, in fact. Fleetingly I wondered how the heck it got there. When I got back, I knelt in front of him. I spit into the rag to wet it up and wiped away the black lines of blood that fell from the corners of his mouth. There was that question lingering over my head. I didn't want to ask but it was one of those necessary evil things. I needed to know how much longer he'd live like this.
He must have seen the question scroll across my overly expressive face. "Medicine is the only thing keeping me alive now." Disappointment rearranged his features again. "I should be dead right now." His eyes then drooped from exhaustion, rather than sadness.
Cool terror pooled in my chest. I thought I had more time than… than… none! "How long has this been going on?" Now panicking more than slightly.
"Since before we met." He explained as if it was no big deal.
I grabbed him desperately around the shoulders, pinning his arms to his sides. He flinched at the sudden embrace but didn't fight it. "Why didn't you tell me!" Fat tears threatened to overflow my eyes, but I managed to hold them back, I clutched him to my chest. He just went with it, pliable as clay. "Maybe I could have helped somehow!" I smoothed his hair back with my hand and whispered into his ear. "You can't die, please don't die." A sob. "I'll do anything."
Just letting me hold him tightly to let out my emotions was as much comfort as he could manage. Eventually he untangled me from him delicately. A real, honest to goodness happiness overtook his expression as he spoke. "It has to happen," he smiled, happily. "Think of this is penitence for what I've done." He tucked a loose strand from my hair behind my ear. Our eyes met for a tense moment before my eyes darted away to the window again. He slid an arm under mine and pulled me closer into a very loose hug, forcing me to look at him. He wasn't a big hugger, so I enjoyed the feeling while it lasted.
Those well controlled tears were beginning to cool the rims of my eyes again. As much as I wanted to argue, he was right. He should be dead right now for killing all of those innocent people. But as much as I should have, I didn't want him to die. A cold pit hollowed my stomach. Did that mean I was a bad person too? Because I wanted an S-class missing nin, a murderer, to live? No, I wasn't. I wasn't the one who committed murder like that. Yes, I'd killed people, but the people I killed were for missions. For the good of Konoha. No, I wasn't a bad person, I was just an idiot in love with the bad guy.
"You do deserve it." My nails dug into my palms as my fists clenched on my lap. "How can you be so okay with this?" My stare downcast, allowing those huge tears to fall onto his darkly clad lap, forming a pool in the wrinkle of his cloak. I cried. Another sob shuddered my shoulders. "Why does it have to hurt so much…"
His lips gently crushed to mine and all logical thought drifted out of sight. Those lips tasted of blood and starlight.
A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely reviews!
