and the scarry skies above
home
He stays at the apartment for a long time. Looking out the window, watching as the stars fall and, one by one, the neighbourhood windows light up, heralding the dawn of a new day.
Tetsuo and Sakura do not return.
As the horizon tinges pink, he locks up the flat, circles down the staircase with slow steps, crosses through the impeccably neat but terribly mundane front yard out on the street. Throws a glance back, thinks he might one day like to have a yard like that. Tetsuo's letters weigh heavy in his fingers. Thoughts turning inward, he wanders the streets toward the city centre. People look at him strangely, turning away whenever he catches their eye. Perhaps they wonder about his lack of gear. Perhaps not. The latter seems more likely. At their glances, Itachi remembers, shakes his head because old habits die hard, turns around, drifts back through the side alleys and little nooks he took with Sakura the night before, until he's in front of the Uchiha district.
Behind, Konoha's walls carve across the sky – protective, admonishing. Watching.
Clutching the keys and paper to his chest, Itachi looks up at the high crest and wonders where he feels more at ease. Within or without? He's not so sure. His eyes fall to take in the walls fencing in the Uchiha district. Definitely not here. A smaller, more sophisticated version of the giant protective barrier. Less imposing. But also a lot more intimidating, somehow. At least to him. Giant Uchiha fans are painted on either side of the gate. One of them is cracked, as if something massive had been smashed against the concrete. He frowns.
The guards greet him with the respect due to a clan heir as he steps off the street. Neither of them meet his eye. One of his many aunts, juggling a basket of laundry on her hip, is out on the porch and bows as soon as she sees him. He turns a corner, runs into a great-uncle. The old man nods at him from where he is shuffling crates around behind his small stall that is wedged tightly in between two buildings, arranging and rearranging as if unsure where everything fits.
"I'll have some of your dango, please," Itachi says. Whether it is out of hunger or sympathy, he couldn't say. Immediately, his uncle hands him a skewer with his one good arm. Refuses payment. "Thank you." Itachi tries a small bite. "Still the best, as always." The older man inclines his head and smiles at the clumsy compliment, but his eyes are serious. "Thank you. Circumstances may change, but talent never wavers." Itachi nods, unsure of what to say.
Continues on through the district towards his home, nibbling on the dango, nodding at people who stop and bow.
Cradling Tetsuo's letters and Sakura's keys against his chest with his free hand, he wonders at how very distant everything seems today, and how very cold he feels in the shadow of these looming walls.
A/N: I got mixed feedback on the last chapter; not in a bad way. It just seemed that some of you were confused as to what's going on. I won't tell, but I'm sure you'll figure everything out eventually, and then these will make more sense :) I hope...
Anyways! Thank you a lot for your reviews! You guys are always super kind!
And sorry this update is so late. But it's probably still Friday somewhere.
Lots of love,
planless