Possession

Disclaimer: I own none of Naruto characters. They rightly belong to Masashi Kishimoto-sensei. But I do own some of the characters that I made up to be members of Akatsuki.

Warning: Yaoi. Incest. Violence. Bondage. Semi-rape. Crossdressing. Some OCs. If you find any of the said materials disturbing, I suggest you leave this page immediately. You've been warned, so don't flame me about that.

Pairing: Itachi/Sasuke and Sasuke/Naruto Eventually Itachi/Sasuke

Note: Quite a long chapter this time. I hope it meet your satisfaction. But I can only hope...still suck at action scences as ever. Btw, the Italic parts are written in Itachi's POV. And I have to remind/warn you once again; he is quite a psychopath bastard. (At least, in this fic, I mean.) ::sweatdrops::

Oh and cookies to those who guessed correctly that it wasn't Sasuke in the last chapter! Congratulation!

Chapter IX: Turning the Table

"I hate you." You said. The word 'hate' slipped off your tongue so easily and fluidly like water. Every word with hatred, every sound with spite. You have a tongue of fire, I have to say. Yet it chimed so melodically like a beautifully refined song. The song I wrote. And you played along so perfectly. Hatred. That was what I intended.

You were weak, I remember, little brother. So weak you broke too easily. I played with you. I smiled. I was kind. I protected you, for I feared that you might shatter. You were too weak back then. Why do you care so much about their death? Especially when death brings you more strength? Hatefulness. When you hate, you become stronger. I made you strong but there always have to be some worthy sacrifices.

I wonder if you have any idea how beautiful your eyes are when they are filled with anger and bloodlust. It's the most beautiful shade I have ever seen. Yet your weakness still amuses me to no end. Weak...strong...and yet weak again, I make you, for I know you will break and mend. You'll become even stronger. And I'll break you again... It's like an endless loop that will never be cut until you bath your porcelain hands in my foul bloody pool of red.

...Or maybe not.

I look at you and gone is that smoldering heat of flame in your eyes. You said you hate me with such passion yet such passion are now absent in your eyes. They are so dead, so desperate, so painful...

I've broken my doll once again. Successfully.

You just sit here, staring at me wordlessly. You know the game. You have seen what I have done--taking your form but you objected not. Not even a single word. I know what you fear. You fear that you'll lost him. And that fear drove you to obey whatever I said whether you liked it or not.

But haven't I told you, little brother, that you belong to me and no one else?

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Naruto stared at the picture revealed before him, lost for words. His stomach flipped madly and his heart sank at the mere sight. It was just the worst he had feared. Sitting there before him was not the same old Uchiha Sasuke he knew. Not his proud rival who would smirk and insult at his stupidity, for the Uchiha Sasuke he knew was as proud as a lion and had the arrogant air of cold and well-kept ferociousness.

Despite his ice-cold attitude, the Uchiha heir's spirit wasn't dead like a cemetery but blazing bright inside so much alive like everyone's else's or even more so. He could see it in those eyes—sometimes bottomless black like the wing of a grim raven, sometimes red with the wheeling fire of his infamous Sharingan. However, nothing ablaze, nothing so bright reeled in those blood-like pools that was the tamed lion's eyes right now. They were dead like the last breath of ember before it died out, replacing instead with cloudy haze of despair--the mark of weakness, the mark of woe.

Miserable. Pained. Tortured. Degraded. Forced. Surrendered.

All those emotions were shown swirling clearly behind those eyes. The once high and graceful lion was reduced into a helpless little kitten. Those once proud shoulders slumped in defeat. Those long, silky strands Sasuke was so conceited of were messy and spilled all over him in disarray. His skin was so pale--paler than Naruto remembered him be just a day before and it was bruised and cut all over, being marred with blue, black and red. The thin robe he wore was useless to hide those abused marks, for it was so easy to see through.

Pretty, frail and delicate. Just like glass. Were he to move from this position and touch him even though just lightly, Naruto couldn't be so sure if this person wouldn't break. They had only parted for one day. How could someone change so completely differently?

Sasuke stiffened as he felt his brother's arm wrapped possessively around him, pulling him back against the other's warm body. As if dancing on a piano keyboard, Itachi's long, candle-like fingers played along and up his exposed calves, rolling the thin fabric up as if to give their blond guest a good show. Higher and higher those fingers got and when they reached a certain spot, the captured boy couldn't help but gasp.

He could break himself free if he wanted to. His chakra had already recovered. But... Why? he asked himself. Why did he feel so helpless being in his brother's arm like this? Why didn't he escape but let Naruto see him like this?

A lust-filled moan stuck and died down in his throat as he tried his best to restrain it. Those evil fingers were toying with him, torturing him mercilessly until he couldn't resist it anymore. The note came out, sending shiver down his own spine as guilt and pleasure overwhelmed him. The grey robe slipped off his shoulder, giving a deliciously inviting sight and better access for tasting. And the tormented boy had to look away, unable to withhold the brilliant cerulean gaze that was his best friend's watching.

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Ashamed, guilt-ridden, you are. I can see it so clearly. That's why you deny looking him in the eyes. Instead you look at me--red-wine orbs no longer piercing or your expression brooding. It's pain and pain alone. Pain obviously written all over your usual stoic feature. Bittersweet pain, my beautiful doll...

This is the game I have started. This is the game you agreed to play along. There is no going back. For both of us. Yet...

What is this sinking feeling I have seeing you in so much pain? And it's not the physical pain I mean. Bruised, wounded, cut, I care not about, for you look lovely enough bathing in blood it was satisfying--like rose petals on the pure-white snow. It's this pain I'm talking about...the pain in your eyes--that painful pain leaking out on your normally expressionless face. That pain...I have seen it before...the day I left you broken the first time of your deluded life.

It meant nothing back then.. You were weak. I watched you crumble. And you mended. Then you came back to fight me.

I broke you the second time. You lost. I left. You strived thirstily for power. You got stronger. You came. We met, as I predicted. You were much stronger, strong enough for me to acknowledged and this time...I made you mine.

I broke your strong will, watching you fall to pieces.

This is the game I control. This is the game made for me being the winner. You're broken again and again but do I need to break you even further now that you fall too far to turn back? Do I need to grind these already broken pieces into dust?

Do I even want to?

Back then, whenever you lost, I was certain you'd be coming back for another fight, for no matter how hard you was hit, the flame shining in your eyes were far from defeated. Yet this time...it's so dead. Dead like the deadest of one's soul. An ember of the once smoldering fire.

And now I have it again...this vague fear that you might shatter. Shattered and unable to mend...

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Long black tresses whipped against the whiteness that was the younger Uchiha's exposed skin as he threw his head back in ecstasy. His brother's free hand now woke from its rest, finding its way up his elegant neck seductively...up and up...until it met with the boy's soft pliant lips. The older Uchiha grazed his thumb across the bottom lip, kneading it slowly. Automatically, the younger boy's lips crack open, allowing his brother's fingers to slip inside his wet cavern. Those fingers did their job well, brushing, teasing, exploring his cavernous mouth, emitting jolts of electricity through his nerve. The younger Uchiha gasped, his face flushed as saliva dripped from the corner of his mouth and onto Itachi's pale knuckle.

His eyes became glazed and his head felt dizzy as he fought a losing battle of blind craving for the last shred of his dignity, silently hoping that this nightmare would stop. That Itachi would stop.

Sure Sasuke had agreed to play along with what Itachi had in his twisted mind but never had he expected this. Never. He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to see--either it was Naruto or Itachi. The only thing that would save him from going crazy and being spared his own thought of such horrid humiliation was to occupy his hazy mind with colorful curses. Cursed his own weakness...

The sight was too much it was heartwrenching yet it made Naruto's anger boil. He could even feel the other boy's pain just by looking at him and he felt his own throbbing pain of bubbling rage rising sharply. His teeth clenched and he scowled, giving Itachi the most dangerous glare. And soon all the rage was released in a war cry of battle declaration.

At first, the boy considered firing a combo set of shurikens as an overture but quickly discarded that thought, fearing that the attack might harm Sasuke. Instead, Naruto charged directly at his enemy. So fast he disappeared in a quick flash of yellow.

The blond boy's speed was fast it was startling. Yet the blow was already foreseen. Without much effort, Naruto's kunai was stopped with Itachi's. Or...to say it correctly, Itachi's clone's. The blond boy gritted his teeth while the exact replica was looking at him indifferently. "No matter how strong your attack is, it's no use if the enemy knows the direction you'll strike, Naruto-kun." said the clone calmly. "You'd better give up."

"I need none of your teaching, bastard!" The blue-eyed blond snapped, trying to win a match in strength by applying more force to the kunai in an attempt to get past the other's guard. And it seemed Naruto was getting the upper hand. Apparently. Yet his opponent didn't seem to be a tad bit worried. Naruto scowled at the Uchiha's annoyingly pokered face. Not yet!

Whoosh!

With swift swish, a bunshin appeared between the real Naruto and Itachi's clone..."!!!" ...and tackled the fake Uchiha hard, taking him by surprise. The hit clone disappeared with a bonk. "Open your eyes, stupid Sasuke." The Kyuubi vessel demanded, his voice brave and firm. "Watch me. For I, Uzumaki Naruto never gives up that easily!"

"..." Itachi looked at the boy incredulously, his sexually teasing on his prey all ceased. His Sharingan eyes flickered briefly in the dull light. This boy...

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Itachi was gifted, talented, Sasuke knew. He was called a prodigy for nothing. And a true prodigy the older Uchiha was. No one would ever doubt his fighting ability and shinobi skill. Yet as Sasuke had learnt, what really made Uchiha Itachi a winner wasn't his brute strength or amazing ninja skill. It was his wits. It was his way of fighting. It was the way he placed a pressure down on his opponent, crushing a person's spirit. The feeling of being pushed and pushed until you had no way to escape. Getting his enemy trapped like a cowered animal. Yes, that was what Itachi was more than just talented at. That was what Itachi was fond of.

A mind game.

And he was playing the same game with Naruto, Sasuke noticed, for he could never miss that wicked yet cunning gleam in those cold red eyes. Who would have thought someone so stoic and emotionless could be so playful. In a twisted way. Sasuke's eyes narrowed as he watched Naruto battled with his older brother's another clone with a frown. It was nothing difficult to put a bet on the winner. No matter how brave and fierce Naruto fought, Itachi was definitely going to win. No matter what... Yet he continued to watch--with both eyes open.

"Watch me."

He didn't know why he did obey the loud dobe. He just did. No matter how desperate he felt.

Blood gushed out from the newly cut wound. Naruto was bleeding again. At this rate, Naruto would surely bleed to death. But...didn't the Akatsuki want the Kyuubi? Itachi couldn't kill Naruto...

"I don't care of what Akatsuki would do."

Could he?

More blood. His best friend's blood. The redness was overwhelming. What if Naruto died here? Didn't he say he wouldn't let Itachi win? Was it just a self-comforting saying that he used to make himself feel better while he secretly enjoyed this sinful experience?

"You maybe the winner this time but you won't be the winner in the end."

The blond boy was sent tumbling to the floor with a harsh kick.

"I own you, little brother. You've to obey me."

Naruto coughed out thick dark blood so much it was frightening. He could be dead. Yet his determined blue eyes said he wouldn't surrender. Despite how he was pressed, he didn't give up. And he helped himself up to his feet once again.

Why're you so strong, Naruto? What make you so strong?

Pain... So much pain…

"Open your eyes, stupid Sasuke. Watch me. For I, Uzumaki Naruto, never gives up that easily!"

"I don't want to lose anymore of those precious and close to me."

Sasuke watched as Naruto tried and tried again. The blond boy never failed to stand up even though all his effort were in vain. His spirit was unable to be crushed. It was stronger than that tall cliff where the respectable faces of the previous Hokages were crafted. And look at him, what was he doing? Just sitting there and watch like some useless trashes? He who was called a genius, the best shinobi in Konoha just sat and watched his best friend, the dead-last got killed before his eyes without doing anything? How ironic was that?

"You're mine, little brother."

The raven haired-boy looked down reproachfully at his brother's strong arm around him. Even now that he had freed himself from those metal chain and there was nothing but the wall of flesh to stop him, it was nothing different. He was still chained if he didn't escape. He had to. Yet there was this traitorous part of him that screamed the opposite. It wanted to stay. It wanted to be dominated. It yearned for this warmth it had never felt for years. It yearned...for his brother.

No. My brother is dead. He has been long-dead since the day the clan was wiped out. He mentally protested. This man is just a shell of someone I use to know. A man deserves to die.

Chakra rushed through his vein, sending sparks of life to their owner's hands as they formed into different styles of seals.

"Hate me...detest me..."

And with the echoing cry of thousand birds, the bright blue spark of Chidori was released free.

"I will never stop hating you."

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Chidori. I know that technique. The exquisite blue spark of the fatal lightning with the cry of thousand birds. Those little birds sing and so do you. As if a paralyzing spell has been lifted, I can sense your hatred. It's rushing through your vein like pumping adrenaline. I look into your eyes...and this time, little brother, I'm glad that that little spark you possess now erupts burning again. The shade of your fighting spirit, the anger in your eyes...so delicious. Just like you.

...I've never thought of making you mine in this way before. The first time I saw you after these years of growing up, I have to say it all started with just a simple lust. I cared not if you would hurt. I have hurt you before. What was so different? But again, I saw you cry--salty tears rolling down your cheeks and it started. This strange sinking feeling. Sinking down and down like I'm drowning it makes me suffocate. And I started touching you much more gently it was startling. It scares me.

Wasn't all those years we spent as brothers just my own amusing act? Wasn't there a scrap of real emotions I felt in the performance?

...Even I can't lie to myself...

I do still care for you, little brother.

And it scares me. I got carried away by my own game and my own feeling of possessiveness. Possessiveness? Hn. That may be the only thing that didn't start from pure lust, for I have decided to mark you mine since before you even remember. My little brother...my beautiful doll...trying to beat me at my own game...

And yet this sinking feeling I have…

...It rots even me, biting deep into my dark soul.

…

It seemed the table had been turned. Or was it?

TBC

I will stop here. Too bad… Nothing going on much. I meant to end all the fights and let them escape already but it seems again I couldn't. The more I write, the longer it gets. I'll tell you what, actually this fic is supposed to be four-chapter-long but yeah, you know this is chapter 9 already. But I have a feeling that my writing is getting worse. Is it?

I need your comment. Please leave me a review. Don't let me hang here alone. T-T