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Chapter Five
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Time feels like it's going by faster, or maybe that's just 'cause Shisui doesn't have that massive weight of unfinished business dragging behind him with every step he takes. It's easier for him and Itachi to talk now that they're not stepping around the big hairy elephant in the room, though they're still not talking about everything; Itachi's still in near-isolation with the horses and Shisui still feels guilt gnawing at him over it, but it's warring with the relief he feels at not having to worry about finding Itachi dead in the middle of town one day. And then he feels guilty about that too.
The sex is helping to take his mind off it, though. Seems to be doing the same for Itachi, if the noises he's gotten more comfortable with making are any sign.
All things being said, it's a few weeks after their little heart-to-heart that Shisui walks into the Scarecrow's general store for his candy fix and about has a stroke.
The Scarecrow himself can have that effect on people who ain't used to him, Shisui knows, half his face covered with a mask and his hair gone gray too early to match up with the rest of him. (He's also got about eight eyes in the back of his head, or so Shisui's youthful arrest record pertaining to this store would suggest.) He doesn't have that effect on Shisui anymore, though—he's gotten Shisui thrown in a cell enough times by now that Shisui basically considers them friends. He tips his hat to the shopkeeper as he walks in.
"Afternoon, Scarecrow."
"Afternoon," the Scarecrow replies without looking up from his book. Shisui sneaks a glance at the cover—it looks like a new one, which means a new shipment of city stuff must've just come in, which means Shisui might get his fix today after all. His mouth is already watering.
"You got any chocolate left? An' maybe some molasses?" Itachi loves the stuff even if he'll never admit to it, and Shisui's thinking maybe it'll make him feel better about being cooped up for so long.
The Scarecrow peers at him with his one visible eye. "Time was, you would've just nicked it while my back was turned," he says smoothly.
Shisui raises his hands. "I'm a bona fide lawman now. Gotta set a good example and all that, which means no stealing from pillars of society like yourself."
The Scarecrow snorts, but his nose is already stuck back in the book. "I should have some left. My assistant can get it for you." He waves a hand at someone out of Shisui's line of sight, and there's a rustling from the back room.
"Assistant?" Shisui repeats. The Scarecrow's famous for not suffering fools lightly, which he likes to joke rules out most people in this town. He's never had an apprentice that Shisui can remember. "Who's your—"
A bar of chocolate and a bit of molasses are set down on the counter in front of him, and Shisui looks right up into Itachi's eyes.
"That will be twenty-five cents," Itachi says, and anyone watching would think they didn't know each other from Adam, but Shisui catches the glint in Itachi's eye that says he's pleased as punch at getting to catch Shisui off his guard. Shisui coughs and pulls himself together.
"What, no lawman discount?" he asks, leaning on the counter.
"I hear you've been rather overfond of the five-finger discount in the past," Itachi says dryly. "Let us call this breaking even."
"No mercy for the wicked, huh?"
"Only if they sincerely repent," Itachi replies, his smooth tone going just a little pointed. "Isn't that what the Bible says?"
Shisui shrugs, a grin spreading across his face. "Wouldn't know. Never been real welcome at church services myself."
"Is that so," Itachi murmurs. Heat is starting to pool in the space between them. It feels like the first day they crossed paths all over again. Shisui leans in just a little more—
"Yes, and there are many good reasons for that." The Scarecrow sounds bored more than anything, but Shisui jerks back all the same. "Now stop haranguing my assistant, Shisui. If you aren't going to buy anything else then shoo."
"Awful cold way to treat someone with a badge," Shisui mutters, but he fumbles the money out of his pocket and lays it on the counter.
"Don't let it melt," Itachi advises him as he hands over the candy. Which the prick does on purpose, Shisui is sure, because then all he can think about is what he could do with it if it did melt, the things he could lick it off of…
He's gotta get out of this store.
Clearing his throat, Shisui tips his hat again and turns around to leave, and he's almost out the door when he sees them coming through the front window.
Dosu and Zaku.
Shisui veers sideways and ducks behind one of the tall shelves, his heart pounding in his chest. He's pretty sure they didn't see him, but all the same, there's something unnerving about running into people who tried to knife you the last time you met.
"Scarecrow," Dosu greets as they walk in. Just hearing his gravelly voice makes the hairs on the back of Shisui's neck stand up.
"What can I do for you?" the Scarecrow asks, still sounding bored as ever. When Shisui chances a look, though, he sees the shopkeeper's set down his book. That's not a good sign.
It's Zaku who answers. "Whiskey," he says, "an' lots of it."
"Celebrating something?"
Shisui stops himself from snorting at the last second. As if that much liquor ain't breakfast, lunch and dinner to those cousins on a normal day.
"Nothin' in particular," Zaku is saying, but whatever he says next goes fuzzy in Shisui's head because he's just realized who's about to be handing them their whiskey.
Fuck.
Sure enough, Itachi's cool voice comes a second later: "Your liquor."
Someone whistles—Zaku again, that jackass. "Look who's fuckin' showing his face. Ain't too good for us now, are you?"
"What my cousin means to say," Dosu cuts in, "is that we had assumed we wouldn't be seeing you anymore, Sheriff."
"I'm not the sheriff anymore," Itachi corrects him. "And Sheriff Inuzuka has done an exemplary job in my absence."
"Aw, y'mean you don't miss any of it?" Zaku again, his voice a sneer. "Not the discounts, or the free booze, or the liberties your kind takes with prisoners?"
Shisui clenches his fists hard and talks himself into sense. Stepping in now would only make shit worse; it'd make Itachi look weak, and these ain't the kind of people you want to look weak in front of.
But damn if he doesn't want to relieve Zaku of every one of his remaining teeth.
He waits, holding his breath, for Itachi to do something stupid. But Itachi's not him, so instead all he hears is the sound of glass sliding across wood.
"Best not to let it warm up here," Itachi says, perfectly mild.
There's a second of silence. Shisui peeks around again—just in time to see Zaku spit in Itachi's face.
"You ain't no lawman," he snaps. "Don't tell me what to do."
He storms out then; Dosu puts some money down before following him past Shisui's hiding place and out onto the street. It's not until they're out of sight that Itachi reaches up slowly, mechanically, to wipe the gob of spit off his face.
The Scarecrow says something to Itachi under his breath, but Shisui doesn't hear it. He's too busy breathing slow to keep from running out after them, starting a fight neither of them needs. When'd he get so damn reasonable anyway? It's probably one more thing he can blame Itachi for.
When he calms down enough to loosen up his fists, his nails are red from where they broke right through his skin.
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Itachi's already back at the stable by the time Shisui returns to it, having finally managed to give his reports to Hana (and in some real feat of self-restraint managing not to sic her on those shitkicking cousins). He's giving one of their newer arrivals, a strawberry roan, a good brushing.
"Does Flicker need cleaning?" he asks.
Shisui leads the big dark horse into his stall. "Nah, he didn't end up doin' much dirty work today. I'll check his hooves later." He tries to sound casual. "Speakin' of today, what was that about at the store? Didn't know you'd picked up work for the Scarecrow."
"I spoke with Hana yesterday," Itachi says. "She agreed with me that it was time to show my face in society again. Such as it is."
"She did, huh." Would've been nice of Hana to give him that little update herself, but if Shisui brings that up he'll be begging for another lecture on how I don't work for you, Shisui, you work for me. "So why there? You fond of the musty smell, or just tryin' to get your hands on the Scarecrow's private library?"
"Very funny," comes the dry response. "Hana also happened to mention that it would be a good place for someone looking to avoid…complications. Hatake was kind enough to offer me a place."
Well, it's true enough that nobody in their right mind would try to tangle with the Scarecrow, but—"Wait, who's Hatake?"
Itachi gives him a look. "I strongly doubt anyone's mother would be careless enough to name him 'Scarecrow'."
That's fair enough. Shisui shrugs past it and gets to the point.
"You wanna stay away from those cousins," he says. "Dosu and Zaku. They're bad news—worse'n usual, I mean."
"I gathered that much during my time as sheriff," Itachi says without looking up from his work. He doesn't sound surprised that Shisui knows about the scene at the store. "Though I suspect they aren't foolish enough to start a fight under Hatake's nose. There are limits to bravery."
"The Scarecrow ain't always gonna be around," Shisui points out. "Those two got it out for you—" And for me, he doesn't say "—an' they're not the type to let common sense stop 'em."
"So what is it you suggest? I should quit my position and bury myself in the desert somewhere?"
Frustration leaks into his voice. "I'm just sayin' it might've been a little soon to put yourself out there, that's all."
Itachi's hands go still on the roan's coat. He turns to look Shisui in the eye.
"Surely I've misunderstood," he says, all lightness gone. "You couldn't possibly be saying that I should, in fact, bury myself and never come back out."
"Not never!" Shisui protests. "Just until it's…safe."
He realizes what a hilariously shitty choice of word that is before it even leaves his mouth, and the flat look on Itachi's face says he doesn't miss the irony either.
"Safe," he repeats. "Always that. If I hid my face until you deemed it 'safe' I would never leave this stable, and in that case I might as well have remained under my father's roof."
Shisui flinches—it's one thing thinking shit like that to yourself, it's another to have it thrown in your face by someone else. "That ain't fair. I ain't keeping you prisoner here, am I?"
"But would you, if you could?"
"What the fuck, Itachi?"
Itachi stands up so fast he upends the stool he was sitting on. The roan he's been brushing shies away like he's avoiding the brand.
"I don't know what ideas you have been forming in your head," Itachi says, the fire in his eyes at odds with his even tone, "but I am not one of those girls in Hatake's books, and I am not as sheltered as I was when I first came here. I do not need any more of your protection, Shisui."
The venom in the word feels like a punch to the gut, but Shisui's used to taking punches and he knows it's no good to focus on the hurt in the moment—so much better to focus on the anger.
"You sure about that?" he retorts. "'Cause last time I checked this town woulda hung you out to dry if it weren't for me."
"And instead I am meant to live out my days in a stable. A great improvement." It's the most bitter he's ever heard him.
"Don't talk down to me, Professor," Shisui snaps. "What the fuck did you want me to do back then? Bail myself out and let you take the fall for me?"
Itachi's eyes flash, and a second too late Shisui recognizes the look of a wick attached to a powder keg.
A wick that's finally burnt down to nothing.
"I wanted you to respect my decision." The words leave Itachi in a furious rush. "Helping you, betraying my duties here, all of it—it was my choice, one for which I was fully prepared to accept the consequences. Instead I woke up to find that the choice had been taken from me, the people whose respect I fought to earn now considered me incapable either of fulfilling my duties or taking responsibility for my actions, and my father—"
A ragged breath escapes. It almost sounds like a horrible, horrible laugh. "My father would rather have received me home in a coffin. So please, Shisui, tell me again how I should be grateful."
Shisui finds he can't tell him a goddamn thing.
The silence stretches until he swears his ears are ringing from it. Itachi takes a deep breath before he speaks again.
"I will honor my commitment to Hatake," he says. "I refuse to stay buried here."
And Shisui doesn't say it—he's too pissed and too tangled up to think opening his mouth is a good idea right now—but the thought comes into his head all the same:
I don't wanna be the one burying you later.
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That night, for some reason, Shisui finds himself thinking about his ma.
Memories tug at his brain while he tries to sleep, tries to ignore the sound of Itachi's breathing filling up the too-small space. He remembers hating it every time his ma left home, because he was a kid and the idea of death was still something terrifying instead of something you just got used to. He remembers always wanting to ask her to stay with him.
But he never did. He knew she would've laughed and left anyway, because it was what she had to do, and staying inside all day wouldn't've suited her even if she had the choice. So she'd kept leaving and she'd kept coming home.
She died at home.
Shit. He hasn't had something to lose in so long he'd almost forgotten that feeling—the helplessness that comes when someone you care about doesn't need your protection, or much want it.
He deserves better, you know.
Sasuke had said it like it was some kinda challenge: Well? Will you try to prove me wrong?
Shisui didn't have a good answer then. He's less and less sure he has one now.
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