standard disclaimers apply; the fic relies heavily on the PS2 version so don't blame me for any misuse of their abilities. reviews are very much welcomed.
OF BUZZING AND CHIRPING
"Of Chirping"
The magnetism of red as a signifier of irrational certainty of carnage and anything related with it is now dissolved in Uchiha Sasuke's mind; it was the pull of acidity in the sense of emotional association, in the sense of motivation and determination, in the sense of all there is apart from violence. Needless to say, the twofold orbs within his crimson eyes – gyrating with the succession of time while trying to discover the mysteries of sharingan at the same time – is not a testimony of vengeance and death, but an end product of concern; as the Aburame genius' body stretched out in the arena of death, unconscious and barely breathing caused by Itachi's offensive, kunai's started to dance like the panorama is beneath revelry but dangerous nonetheless. Leaves experience downfall in each dance, alongside with the woods that promenaded the frontiers of Sound Village. The sun shed its slight radiance but it was never noticed, perhaps it's all hectic in the heat of battle – and as more exhibitions of ninja techniques transpire – the foliage seemed not to be nature anymore but a predisposition and condition for death.
The threads are translucent but the older Uchiha can nevertheless see it – and what nuisance it brings to Sasuke! It would be a closed-ended story between the two but Sasuke would never let this chance slip by; he tried to prepare for this day for years, trying to find himself amidst the state of frailty in the totality of existence. He even succumbed himself into a dogmatic account of supremacy, believing that the death of Uchiha Itachi would be the most transcendental of all; he conditioned himself to believe that the world will exist anew in virtue soon as his brother perish, that peace would be an inch away from Kages' touch. This belief would never be reality though, he thought; several Itachi's have been running towards him and exploding in deadly waters – he cannot settle on a resolve, he cannot do anything except throw shuriken's and kunai's that seem very preposterous. Itachi has to admit however – his brother's physicality reached a stage called revolution; it isn't par with his utmost power but it was amusing to see his brother in such sharp bitterness. It was hate, the sentiment he demands of Sasuke. As another kagenobunshin sai come to pass he threw the shuriken's he's been holding for long minutes; his body felt numb from standing too much because the clones have been doing all the work and thought of finishing such nonsense, stepping...
Four shuriken's soared the air; colliding with each other, the precision was amazing as they struck themselves – metal against metal – in hopes of knifing the younger lad. Orange hues sparked but Sasuke parried; in an instance however, his body twirled in the air. Itachi is now in front of him.
"What the—"
Rapidly, Itachi grabbed the younger one's collar; his arms stretched with nonchalant vigor as Sasuke chokes. He kicked – still holding Sasuke – and Itachi blasted in utter waters, piercing the former with wet shards of pain. The older Uchiha smirked from behind, still not leaving his place. Airstreams are warm as they pass by Sasuke's body even if he's drenched, tired to boot; the fight hasn't formally started yet there Sasuke was, panting in exhaustion. His brother hasn't moved and there he is panting from exhaustion!
This has pissed the psyche and ego of the Uchiha genius.
"Kousoku Ninjutsu." Itachi said, boisterous with its tone.
"He must have been a good friend of yours, brother," he continued, staring at the unconscious Shino as he walks towards him at the same time.
"Don't come near him." Sasuke warned but it earned no victory.
"Haven't you learned your lesson, brother? You need hate to overpower me." Itachi has said in time of a kunai appearing in his hand, drawing out, mounting to death as blood splattered around.
"Well now, at least you've gathered information; that would be all. My gratitude wouldn't be expressed in words," Tsunade has uttered this with a smile, but the beam quickly vanished at her realization of Shino's absence.
"Where is Shino?"
"Recovering, Hokage-sama. He fought with Kabuto."
"Fought? I ordered you both to discourage skirmish."
"It was... an inevitable situation, Hokage-sama,"
"Well at least he's fine; offer Tenten, too, my gratitude."
"Of course, Hokage-sama,"
"And could you also call Sakura? I'm gonna teach her."
"Of course, Hokage-sama."
Chuunin Hinata closed the wide doors that barricaded the Hokage with other matters in the fortress of Konoha; she closed her eyes in the knowing realization that she just lied, but it was a good venture, she deduced. It would only be a matter of time until her former teammate return unless an enemy as fierce as Kimimaro would show up; it was a theoretical account on her part as she walks outside of the fortress of Konoha, trying to recall the emotional liaison she herself made with Shino, along with Kiba. The memories... it was ought to lighten her up, and that exactly happened; the flexibility of their team, the ambition and the desire towards greatness – even those petty ones that garner the most weighed sentiment called appreciation. Her perpetual byakugan exterior faded away as her thoughts rummaged on these beautiful distractions, turning her into the sentimental Hinata she was once. For years after her training with his father, she smiled once again.
In this moment she was gone in a puff of air.
Drops of blood that sauntered in Itachi's eyes has confused him; the kunai struck Sasuke's arm, barely shielding the unconscious Aburame as black scripts of death marked the whole body of Uchiha Sasuke; his eyes blazed not from his bloodline but because of pure anger, pure acid of anger that mounted on its peak – Itachi on the other hand found fulfillment in this scenario, an accomplishment on his part. A surge of flames started to appear and Itachi didn't expect it but he dodged it nonetheless. There was smoke after that as leaves dried itself from combustion; trees that stood in front of Sasuke was conflagrating, a sign of a more powerful technique he has perfected for two years of being a renegade. Itachi had to remove his flowered coat at that.
Itachi brokenly smirked. "You've grown, brother."
"Scumbag."
"I despise that."
"Bastard scoundrel."
"Don't tell me you're protecting that feeble one; it's making me awed."
"And you're here to just tell me that? Pathetic, brother."
Itachi raised an eyebrow.
"Don't tell me you're annoyed brother; you're much stronger than me,"
"Hate; what a lovely word, eh?"
"Scumbag," And Sasuke's left eye turned yellow surrounded in pitch-black hue, seemingly frightening but not for his older brother – it was another victory. Second level? "Why are you here, scumbag?"
"Would I spoil it to you brother?"
"Don't horse around with me," and more black characters started appearing, stretching onto his left cheek; his arsenal is far from many – actually there isn't anything left – and he picked up a flake of sharp pebble, throwing it in the air and catching it as it fall.
"Orochimaru needs your body as a vessel of his existence; as exchange for a scroll I have to bring you to him,"
"And what scroll would that be brother?"
"The Akatsuki needs the Kyuubi."
Uchiha Sasuke was silent.
At the divulgence of this plan to rule out the possibility of profusion in terms of positivity, Sasuke has to wonder; the hate this moment is slowly turning into inquiry at that. Is this the brother of Sasuke in front of him, the one he thought of protecting him from any harm, the one who was supposed to be a role model for the family, the one who is understood to be generous with compassion? This seeming flow of thoughts has meandered itself in a bender of questioning his brother's existence. Would Itachi really do anything for that darn scroll, even sacrifice his own brother? The sentiment is somewhere in the middle actually – somewhere between hate and longing – and this moment he's in he thinks he just crossed the thin line. His demonic marks started to shrivel as sadness overwhelms hate; this made the older Itachi confused, bewildered by a gesture of seeming surrender.
The flowered coat of Itachi is still in smole, Sasuke noticed; his gaze can never be fixed towards his older brother, apparently because he just showed a gesticulation akin to capitulation. Sasuke is spent and ready to accept defeat for the nth time.
A bee rested on his shoulders. Shino.
Sunbeams are much highly seasoned this moment of the day; Sasuke can hear the faint chirp of birds as the flames go down with his emotions, and that's because of utter silence that roamed throughout the formerly considered arena. Itachi was already behind him, but the younger one paid no attention.
"Orochimaru doesn't want you spoiled,"
The bee flew away and Itachi caught it, closing his hands as to cripple the bug; it turned into smoke, predictably, and he grabbed Sasuke's arms and threw him in the air, sending a clone into a puff of smoke. Aburame Shino tried to stand up and he was somewhat successful; his right arm swung loose as he stepped on the damp earth, his eyes open to reveal a pitch-black set of eyes that seemed to intrigue the older Uchiha. "An Aburame... this is interesting," and ornets flew towards Itachi but they were quickly brought into ashes as he passed by; his right hand held a kunai and he flipped in the air, too fast for Shino's sight, and launched an attack. The Aburame genius tried to dodge but gets a bare wound in the chest, cutting his white coat and exposing a bloodied pale skin. The scene has pissed the psyche and ego of the Uchiha genius.
"I... I came here by to thank you,"
"I don't deem that as your intent; you know you could easily be captured when jounin's see you,"
"Hmp. Then doubt as you like,"
Shino now knew that Sasuke has used his chakra just in time to get right here, right now – a symbol of sincerity. "You better run now else they'd catch you,"
"Thank you. For... everything."
It was swift, the action that is; leaves swooshed in fast succession as the damp earth collided with them, Sasuke's chakra escalating on the verge of time and space – eclectic lines shrouded his figure and lightning chirped the whole place, altering the place once more into a battle arena as Sasuke's body glided with the wind, precise and angular, vigorous of chakra. It was all he mustered from exhaustion, and it's a signification of overcoming the limits of physicality as the chidori tried to hit Itachi. The technique was successful but the older Uchiha only got a torn shinobi garment and wound, an interpretation that Sasuke is still weak compared to him.
"You're still weak, brother," he muttered before readying his kagebunshin chihoro.
Sasuke felt the weirdest kind of exhaustion, foreboding him of another defeat; his speed decreased immensely and he's now vulnerable even to the slightest attack.
Shino cringed.
Sasuke's cursed mark glowed like flames and started to scatter around his body, his right eye a sharingan and the other one pitch-black from some obvious reasons but known only to shinobi's knowledgeable of demons and other matters; his speed – determined and specific, and his chidori – white in hue no more but violet in some strangeness has struck together with Itachi's ninjutsu. But of course, an intricate kind of chidori – raikiri to be technical – is much deep-seated than a technique that uses a clone to trap the opponent for abundant blows.
The magnetism of red as a signifier of irrational certainty of carnage and anything related with it is dissolved in Uchiha Sasuke's mind; it was the pull of acidity in the sense of emotional association, in the sense of motivation and determination, in the sense of all there is apart from violence. His right eye had three particles twirling fast, the other a yellow one surrounded in pitch-black hue; sparks flew – chirping – and it was a close-ended complexity for him.
for terminologies, go figure. go review, if you may.