It's strange what makes me think. Of you, of me, of a time I had sworn was forgotten. It shouldn't hurt. If it does, I should be glad for it...but... Even without the strength, without the hate, maybe now things are better. Maybe...maybe you were as scared as I was. It's so impossible to tell with you. I know you're sad. I know you're disappointed with me. At the moment I can't bring myself to care. I don't care that I'm weak anymore. I don't care that I'm pathetic. I don't care that you could kill me without a sparing thought. I just... Would you just let me pretend? Let me pretend that it doesn't matter, that that isn't the objective I should have in the first place. Feeling drives people to strength. So why is it when people become strong they lose it? Like you have... You try to make me feel so strongly; you try to force so much animosity between us. You want me to hate. You want me to feel. It's all the same, really. I could have something you didn't. Something you lost. Haven't I won over you already? I suppose that really was your intention all along. It was so interesting to you. I was something to study. I was a test.

Because I had grown so tired of it all. Tired of living to please someone else. I thought that was the most important thing. It changed, all because of you. It changed to power. Power was the most important thing. Killing you was the most important thing. And now I stand here, changed again. Again, you're to blame. It's strange what makes me feel as well. You. More than anything else, you control me. I never realized until now that I control you as well. The most important thing. My most important thing. Why couldn't I see it? To want to live for someone else...to wish you could understand them...to wish you could give them feeling again.

"Love me, fear me, even hate me! God dammit, just do something!

My fists are clenched. I can feel blood under the nails from the sheer pressure of it. The way you're looking at me now...it's almost...curious, perhaps? You still don't understand. You don't understand any of this, do you? You're trying. You're trying to touch - to feel - with numb fingers. It makes me...angry, yes. But it also makes me sad.

"Look, I get it, okay? You're such a bastard! Listen to me! You killed them. They're dead. I can't do anything about that. I get it now. I get that you didn't give a fuck about our parents, that you probably don't give a fuck about me, and that you probably won't ever give a fuck about anybody! You call me pathetic? You're pathetic! You're pathetic in that you can't even understand how much I cared; how much I still care! You fucking piece of shit!"

My chest is heaving now, and your expression has barely changed. But it is there. You're surprised. You weren't expecting this. You expected me to attack you again, to lash out in this solitary emotion I felt for you, and to let it control me. That's what you wanted. You're fascinated by it, aren't you?

"But I know..." My voice had softened, and I look down, almost unsure of myself suddenly.

"I know what your situation is like. When I was fighting once, I lost control. I lost everything, all in an instant. I didn't care all of a sudden. I didn't care who I hurt, didn't care if I died, didn't care about anything. I lost that feeling." I'm looking at you again. You're still waiting patiently.

"And...and I know that it's hell. You...it's like that all the time for you, isn't it?" I was so blind before. "You don't feel like I do. You don't feel like anyone does." Was it really your fault? "But I want you to..." I don't want you to have to pretend too. Not anymore. "I want you to. I want you to not be lying anymore."

I can't read you. You're startled, that's for certain. Are you going to kill me? Going to kill me because I don't have the hate you want now?

"There are other things. Other feelings." I can teach you. "It's not just anger. I've found something else." You can learn. I don't mind. I can wait. "...I-Itachi, you need to say something. Say something, dammit!"

You don't know what to say. For once, I have completely caught you off guard. Not the way I had fantasized about for years: no crushing your lungs, no killing upperstrike.

"Sasuke..." You're moving, walking over to me. I feel a sudden pang of uncertainty. You look almost scared. Scared. Of me. Your hands rest on my shoulders, your eyes searching. My own widen considerably. You're... The hands move slowly, coming to a stop interlaced somewhere between my shoulder blades. Like you don't know what you're doing. And you don't.

I move quickly, catching you again off guard. Still not for a last fatal attack, even while I have you here, completely at my mercy. My arms wrap around you tightly, and I barely register a slight dampness around my closed eyes.

"It's like this, bastard." My voice breaks slightly, and I know you noticed it. Tentatively, carefully, your hands return, pulling me closer.

"Then we'll just try again."