5.
Title: Little Brother
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 481
Warning/s: Maybe-sorta in character. But not likely.
Summary: Sasuke is oblivious. Itachi is hung-over.
Dedication: Strata, who just seems to get more and more irritated every time I post one of these.
A/N: Not the original 5th drabble I had in mind, but while I was showering, it just came to me. Mwaha. Longest one to date.
He was tired. Weary of running around, dodging people, of trying to make life easier. Sandaime wasn't helping, either. Rotten old bastard wouldn't even remove the traitor from the clan registry; said he needed the damn weasel on it in order to track him through his expenses.
Uchiha Sasuke was pretty damn sure Sandaime was getting a kick out of the Uchiha fortunes going down the drain.
He was so tired that, as he entered the house, he didn't really notice the happi coat he'd swept off the floor, folded, and deposited on a chair. He didn't notice the body sprawled uncomfortably across the floor, facedown. He didn't even notice the rather loud snores coming from the body.
"Sleep in your damn room," he muttered, moving on autopilot, his brain not exactly functioning. It had been a long month and a half; first with the deaths, then arranging the funerals, pushing away all the families that wanted to take him in, almost killing that idiot from SCORN, dealing with Sandaime, and the run-around he'd been given every time he tried to remove Itachi from the clan. It just wasn't working.
He'd stripped out of his shirt and shorts, then paused in confusion. What had he said as he'd come into the house? He shouldn't have said anything. There wasn't supposed to be anyone else in the compound!
Leaping into action, the nine year old tore down the stairs, skidding to a stop at the entryway. Yes, that was a happi coat folded neatly on the chair. The embroidery on the back looked like the shop-symbol of that hunter-nin bar that his cousin Yuki used to frequent, back before she'd died-- not from Itachi, actually. She'd died on a mission.
Slowly, he raked his eyes across the room, scanning for the intruder. There! On the floor!
The snoring man looked vaguely familiar from this angle. Long, dark hair. Dark shirt. Dark pants. That looked like hastily removed ANBU armor. ANBU armor that had been thrown-up on.
Cautiously, the young Uchiha approached the apparent ANBU. He seemed dead to the world, perhaps he had wandered into the wrong house by accident? Standing over the other now, Sasuke worried a lip, then shrugged. A drunk ninja generally wasn't a good ninja, so kicking him to flip him over wouldn't really do any damage. So Sasuke kicked him.
And nearly lost his leg.
Crimson eyes glared out at him from beneath a konoha hitae-ate, deep lines only serving to make him look more tired than even Sasuke felt.
"I-i-Itachi!" Sasuke squeaked and jumped back, then fell as his injured leg gave out on him. With a tiny whimper, Sasuke clamped both hands down on the fairly deep slice into his leg.
Itachi stared at him for a moment longer.
"Go clean yourself up, brat. I'm going back to sleep."
And proceeded to pass out.