Chapter 18 – Tipping Point

Itachi turned, groaning into his hand. The sheets were tangled around him, soaked through with sweat. He had tossed and turned all night, his sleep plagued by dreams of endless corridors, where his little brother's steps echoed and no matter how much he ran in search for him, he could never find him. He ran a hand through his matted hair and turned again, on his back this time. He stared at the ceiling for a few moments, feeling grateful the night was at least finally over.

His head pulsed with pain when he sat up and Itachi allowed himself a moment to adjust to its intensity, before proceeding to strip the sheets off his bed. He may be late for training today, but he could not show up like this. A hot shower eased some of the tension in his shoulders, but did little against his throbbing head, so he padded down the hall to look for his mother, hoping she would have some medicine for the pain.

He found Mikoto in the kitchen, as usual, only their dinner table was covered with old newspapers, to protect it from the soil she was pouring into small flowerpots. She was distracted enough not to notice him peeking in, and he was able to catch a glimpse of sadness etched on her face. It was gone the next moment, replaced by a wan smile when she sensed his presence. "Ohayo," she said, removing her gardening gloves. "I thought I'd have enough time to plant these tomato seeds before you woke up."

Tomatoes. One of Sasuke's favorites. Mikoto grew them every year for him, first planting the seeds in an indoor nursery, then transferring them to the garden. "Isn't it a bit early for that?" he asked, remembering that she used to plant them in late winter or early spring. Whichever it was, he was certain she had never done this in autumn before.

"I suppose it is," she said distractedly. "I'll clear it all up in a moment. What would you like for breakfast?"

Painkillers. "Just tea. I can make it myself," he added when she was already turning on her heels to reach for the kettle. He saw her hesitating, and was relieved when she relinquished control over the kitchen. He set water to boil as Mikoto started clearing the table instead, seemingly bent on keeping her hands busy regardless of whether or not she had someone to fuss over. Every once in a while, a shadow would cross her face.

Itachi watched her quietly as he waited for the water to boil, arms crossed and leaning against the counter. He wanted to say something, but could not find the words to say it. Nothing seemed right. He had never seen her so miserable, so unguarded. "I'm sorry," he said, unable to refrain himself, but at least managing to stop before his voice started shaking.

Mikoto looked up, and this time there was no warm smile on her face, nor even the slightest hint of surprise. Only pain. "Did you know?" she asked. "About the chuunin exams?"

His heart gave a painful twinge. Was this why she was upset? Had Sasuke told her before leaving this morning? "I thought you knew."

Shock. Hurt. Her hand reached out for the small trowel she had used and knocked over a clay pot, which crashed against the floor. The sudden, loud sound amplified Itachi's headache and he almost cringed, but instead he bent down to help her clean up.

"Don't," she said. "Please."

"I only found out yesterday," he said, but his voice barely rose to a whisper as he saw her eyes fill with tears. "I really thought-"

She cut him off. "What happened between the two of you?"

I hate you.

Itachi recoiled inwardly. No. He could not do this. Not now, not without unravelling. It would have been better if he had said nothing to her at all. "I'll fix it," he said quickly, turning off the stove as a wave of nausea took his mind off the tea. "I promise I'll fix it."

Tears rolled down on his mother's cheeks and the sight of them made something twist painfully within him. What little light remained in her downcast eyes was enough to convey her disappointment in him. She needed no words for that, and her silence spoke for itself. Itachi felt a familiar numbness spread through his flesh, starting with his face. There was nothing more to be said. Whatever remained, he swallowed, unwilling to let Mikoto taste more bitterness.

Shisui dashed, his after-images filling the meadow as he zig-zagged. He could feel the strain in his eyes as he struggled to take in, adapt and dodge within an infinitesimal timeframe, then the already familiar dip in his morale as his muscles froze, unable to obey his commands. Damn it.

"Is he at it again?" Tsume asked. She was balancing herself on a floating log for her workout, doing single-leg squats on it. Kuromaru was watching her impassively from the edge of the pond, having done more than his fair share of dynamic marking around the training ground.

"Mhm," Tenzo said, throwing a glance at Shisui before lowering his eyes back down to the task at hand, which was sharpening his weapons.

"And you all thought I was stubborn," she scoffed.

"He's determined."

"You really can't compliment a lady."

Shisui set himself back at the limit of Akane's range, feeling his lungs burn and his muscles soaked through with adrenaline. It had been a long time since he had encountered such a challenge, and he was pleased to find it somewhat addictive. "Again!" he said, bracing himself.

Akane obliged. Kage no Mai!

The dark tails sprang forth from her shadow, and she lowered her eyes to Shisui's feet, as befit an opponent bearing the sharingan. He was fast, the fastest she had been up against so far, and it was no less straining for her to counter his speed than it was for him to try to dodge all her shadows to get to her. If he did, it was game over, but he had not. No sooner did she sense him behind her than a shadow-tail swept the ground, catching him as he was aiming his tanto for her exposed back. He was still the only one to ever get so close.

"Crazy jutsu," he panted as she released the shadows.

"Crazy speed," she said with a smirk, turning to face him.

Tsume turned her head slightly, straining every muscle in her legs to keep her balance, only to see Shisui and Akane bumping fists. "Did he…?"

"No," Tenzo said.

"Any more of this and they'll be out of chakra before Itachi even arrives. Where is he, anyway?" she wondered out loud, easing down into another squat. Then her eyes fell on Tenzo. "Say, while you're still at it, could you…?"

"Polish your own weapons."

"I'd rather polish your weapon," she said sweetly.

Tenzo face grew red as the leaves dotting the yellow carpet on the training ground. "Tsume-san!"

She threw her head back and laughed, only for her leg to slip as the log turned. Shit. She saw the water of the pond rushing up to meet her and shut her eyes in anticipation of the biting cold, only to feel the wind sweep through her hair as a pair of arms wrapped around her, safely transporting her to the edge of the pond. When she opened her eyes, it was Tenzo's frown she met.

"I didn't take you for a romantic, sweeping a woman off her feet like this," she said as he put her down.

"Even ladies can catch a cold if they fall into a pond at this time of the year," Tenzo said.

Tsume's eyes widened with surprise at the softness accompanying his words, but she had no time to revel in it before she caught a familiar scent.

Shisui looked up to see Itachi finally make an appearance in their midst, by now over an hour late. The smile died on his lips when he met his gaze, however. There seemed to be a reason for his being late, and it was not the pleasant kind. The leaves crunched as Akane made a step forward, towards him, but Shisui held out a hand to stop her. His eyes did not leave Itachi's for a single moment.

"Spar with me," he said to him.

Itachi nodded.

Akane reluctantly stepped back, giving them the space they needed. Whatever Shisui had sensed to make him so tense all of the sudden, she was certain it was not the same thing. However, Itachi had consented. She could not interfere now.

Red bled into black. They lunged at each other without a moment's thought or hesitation, kunai meeting tanto with a small shower of sparks before they broke the deadlock, each blurring through the same hand seals as they jumped away. Katon: Goukakyuu no jutsu! Flames engulfed the middle ground, scorching the dead leaves to ash. They were oblivious to the three pairs of wide eyes watching them.

Shuriken whizzed through the air towards Shisui and he dashed to avoid them, but the wires Itachi controlled them with changed their trajectory at the last moment, pushing his Shunshin no jutsu to the limit. He had already strained himself against Akane, and Itachi was not holding back. This may well spell out disaster for his pride, but Shisui knew he had to defuse the bomb. Nothing else mattered.

"Does anyone else get the feeling this is more like a death-match than a spar?" Tsume asked, unable to suppress a shudder. The air was thick with smoke from the burning leaves on the ground, but also an almost palpable tension. She did not want to imagine what it was like for the two shinobi facing each other off. There was a viciousness in them that seemed almost animalistic and it made her hackles rise. "Maybe we should stop them before someone really gets hurt."

"They wouldn't hurt each other," Tenzo said, although his voice lacked conviction. Itachi's combat style had always been clean, not a move wasted, not a weapon drawn or jutsu used without reason. To those who knew what he was capable of, it always seemed as if he held back in fights. But the truth was that he had never seen Itachi like this, in all their years together in the ANBU.

Their swords clanged in the midst of the shuriken-littered ground, their feet scuffing though the dust and ashes under the force of the impact. Shisui gritted his teeth. If Itachi kept pushing him like this, he would be unable to hold back. The fight would be over before all the venom was out of Itachi's system and then it would have all been for nothing. They never had and probably never would be evenly matched. Keeping the balance was the most challenging part of any sparring match between them, and today he was making it harder for him.

Sensing Shisui's hesitation, Itachi made his move and overpowered him. Shisui managed to pull back before being completely exposed, but as their blades slid against each other in a parting kiss, the tip of Itachi's sword cut through his cheek. Mindless of the warm blood running down his face, Shisui single-handedly formed the seals and he breathed out fire to cover his retreat.

Itachi pulled back to dodge the fireball, only for Shisui to suddenly materialize in between and deliver a kick into his stomach. He barely registered the pain of that before his body slammed into a tree, knocking the air out of him. His vision blurred and darkened. His lip throbbed where he had bit into it and the metallic taste of blood lingered on his tongue as he came to. His legs were trembling now and forcing himself to get up did not go well. He collapsed at the base of the tree, panting, his sharingan fading as he no longer had the strength to keep it up.

"Get up."

Itachi looked up to meet Shisui's cold, hard gaze. It seemed so out of place on his friend's face that some part of him wanted to laugh. The rest of him still coiled, unsated, raging against the pain like a maddened beast. His legs kicked at the ground once more and he used the tree behind him to drag himself in an upright position, even as its bark scraped against the skin on his back. His head swam, white stars exploding across his field of vision.

Footsteps crunched through the leaves. "That's enough."

Shisui turned his head to Akane, who stepped between them, pushing his blade out of the way with little consideration for its sharp edge. Of course, she did not understand. He did not blame her. "Don't coddle him," he said.

"That's not your call to make," she replied, matching the edge in his tone with her own. "He's sick."

Shisui kept the frown from his face as his eyes slipped past her, to Itachi. He was panting, sweat shimmering on his face. One of his hands was clutching at his chest as the rest of him leaned heavily against the tree for support. The flush on his cheeks may have been from the effort, but also something else. He had misattributed the signs to Itachi's state of mind. He had been careless. Thoughtless. He bit his lip in frustration and sheathed his blade.

Akane spun on her heels, but Itachi caught her hand before it touched his forehead. "We're not done," he said, his eyes still trained on Shisui.

But the hardness was gone from Shisui's face and he now looked contrite. "Yes, we are," he said. "I suggest you listen to her before she runs us both through with the Chidori."

Itachi pushed himself off the tree, making a show of the obstinacy running in his Uchiha blood. It pained Shisui to have to resort to such methods to stop him, but he was left with no choice. The sharingan's tomoe spun hypnotically, and Itachi's weakened state made him unable to resist the genjutsu. The pain ebbed away, lulled into a warm numbness that swept over him like a tide, drawing him under. Darkness engulfed him and he embraced it, having longed for the peace it promised.

Shisui rushed forward to catch Itachi as his body slumped down, all the fight knocked out of him for the moment. Akane knelt beside him, wordless as she felt his forehead and then held out her hands over his chest, green chakra already glowing. Shisui did not need to be a medic to tell Itachi had a fever. He could feel him burning up in his arms like a festival bonfire. How had nothing hinted at this throughout their fight? It seemed Itachi was bent on control even when trying so hard to let go.

Tsume and Tenzo arrived, worry written on their faces at the sight of their captain out cold. "What the hell happened?" Tsume asked. "Is he alright?"

"Just unconscious, he'll come to in a few hours," Shisui said for his part. The rest would be up to Akane.

Their brief exchange did not cause her to lose focus and the glow of her chakra amplified as she delved deeper into his lungs, where she sensed not all was as it should have been. His immune system may have riled up against the intrusion, but it was weak, having allowed the infection to settle in nicely in the first place. There was not much she could do about it at the moment.

"He needs bed rest and treatment," she said. "I'll get him the medicine. Could you take him home, Shisui-san?"

"Mm, I'm not sure he would appreciate that," he said, looking apologetic. Itachi's relationship with his family had been strained of late. Shisui even suspected that strain to be the cause of today's outburst. Moreover, Mikoto would be beside herself with worry if he were to show up with an unconscious Itachi in tow. Itachi always did hate making her worry. It would have been safer to take him someplace else for the time being. He was about to suggest his house when Akane spoke up.

"My place then," she said, asking no questions. "You get to play the nurse."

"So, he's sick?" Tsume asked. "He seemed alright yesterday."

"He's been sick for quite some time. It would have been largely asymptomatic until now, but the infection has reached stage four. His immune system could not fight it." Akane seemed to realize she could not have been making much sense to them, because she was quick to put their minds at ease. "He'll be alright. He just needs to take his pills and take it easy for a few weeks."

"I don't want to be there when you break the news to him, princess."

Akane lowered her eyes to Itachi's face. True enough, taking it easy was bound to be a foreign concept to him. His immune system would have been fine if he had taken better care of himself. However, part of her understood his drive. She had nearly driven herself to self-destruction a while back to escape her demons. Whatever his were, he seemed as hellbent to escape them. It was an all too familiar path. Itachi should have known better, she thought bitterly.

Shisui carried him on his back all the way to her house, and Itachi did not stir once. "Is that why you wanted to step in before we fought?" Shisui asked Akane, who had been quiet so far.

"I could tell something was wrong, though not the exact extent of it."

"You should have said something. I wouldn't have gone through with it if I'd known."

"And you would have knocked him out with a genjutsu from the get go?"

"Point taken." In his state of mind, Itachi would not have relented. At least this way, he had blown out some of the steam. Not that Shisui did not feel guilty for roughing him up in his condition. That kick to the stomach alone would be black and blue in no time. He hoped Akane would take care of it before Itachi woke up. "Back there, you made it sound like it isn't a big deal," he said. "But is it serious?"

Akane's eyes darted to him. There was genuine concern on his face and he was Itachi's closest friend. She did not want to lie to him, but she did not see how the truth would help, either. "Why does it matter? It's treatable."

He chuckled. "No offense, Akane-san, but I can see why field work suits you better than the hospital. You need to work on your communication skills."

"What would you have me say? That it's the kind of disease that kills if left untreated? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Yep, terrible bedside manner."

"My job is to keep you all alive, not coddle you," she snapped.

"Well, if it ever comes to it, just let me die," he said, more sharply than he had intended. Akane glared at him and said nothing more. Shisui cursed himself for his blunder. He was upset with himself and taking it out on her. It was unbecoming of him. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."

She accepted the apology with a nod of her head just as they arrived at her house. "Take him to the bedroom, the loveseat's too small," she said. "I'll be there in a moment."

Shisui lay Itachi down on the bed, feeling hot himself from his fever. Akane was quick to make her appearance with cold water and a towel, and they tucked him in. "I have to go buy some ingredients for his medicine," she said. "Keep that towel cold."

"I'll go, if that's alright with you. I need to clear my head."

"Fine, then. I'll make you a list of what I need."

Akane was beginning to wonder if Shisui would ever return by the time he knocked at the front door. He was carrying more bags than would have been necessary for everything she had put on the list, and as he took them to the kitchen, she sensed the smell of cooked food coming from one of them.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I got us some stir-fry. It seemed like the safest option," Shisui said with an apologetic smile as he lined the boxes on the table. "Can't work on an empty stomach," he added as an afterthought.

"Or a clear mind?" she asked as she saw him pull out a whole pack of beer cans from one bag.

"Yeah, those are for me," he said in a strange tone. "You're welcome to have some, if you feel like it, of course."

A shadow crossed his face, quickly dispelled by a smile, but it had been there nonetheless. Akane said nothing of it, and instead started putting together the ingredients from the list. Making the medicine from scratch would take time, and she wanted to begin as soon as possible. Armed with a pestle and mortar, as well as a set of scales, she threw herself into her work almost as eagerly as Shisui chugged from his first beer.

"The food's getting cold," he said after a while, though he did not seem inclined to eat himself.

"That towel's getting warm," she replied. "Would you go change it for me, please?" Her eyes were on to him, making note of his hesitation and reluctance as he stood up from the chair and padded towards the bedroom.

Shisui stopped when he entered the room, gritting his teeth against the painful twinge his heart gave. He forced himself to approach the bed, and his hands trembled as he dipped the towel in cold water before placing it back on Itachi's burning forehead. I'm sorry. He could not do this. He fought down the sinking feeling in his stomach as he strode out of the room and back into the kitchen, downing the rest of his beer like it was water.

"You'd be a terrible nurse," Akane said, her tone not as much unkind as matter-of-fact. Her critique was not undeserved after his earlier comment, so he said nothing. She did not raise her eyes from the round, white seeds she was currently grinding to a powder. "So, who died on your watch?" she asked.

The question flew into the gaping wound in his heart like a dart, spot on. Shisui stared up at her, wondering how she had known, but she did not meet his gaze. "My father," he said, eventually, opening another can. "He died from sepsis, from a war wound that never healed." There were still nights when he would wake up to that smell. The memory of it made his stomach turn as much as the guilt.

She did not offer her condolences and he was grateful for it. He had never been able to stomach those two words, and there was nothing quite like a houseful of strangers spouting them to make them lose their meaning in the aftermath of someone's death. For a long time, the only sound in the kitchen was the pestle grinding ingredients against the mortar.

"I was trained in the hospital," Akane said, making Shisui raise his gaze to her from the beer can. "I was sixteen and thought I could move mountains. The patient was a young man, with a heart defect. Father of two. The surgery went well, Tsunade-sama herself oversaw it. Two days later, his body rejected the transplant." Her voice wavered. "I couldn't stop it."

He stared at her, not knowing what to say.

"The prognosis was good. I'd told his wife he would be alright. I'd laughed with him just two hours before… but bad things happen to good people for no reason." She scoffed. "My betters would disagree, but at least in the field, I know what to expect."

Her hand reached out for the gash on his cheek, which he had at least managed to clean. Healing chakra seeped into it, numbing the pain and sealing the wound shut in matter of seconds. "I don't negotiate with death. We don't speak the same language, so I don't need words for that. I either stop it, or I don't. That's all there is to it."