The Last Dinner
Mikoto ran her right hand through my dark navy hair. Her dark eyes sparkled with love towards me now that I was looking upset. Mikoto wondered why, seeing how I cold be the happiest boy there ever was.
"Sasuke-kun, what's wrong baby?" She asked me with a sweet voice, the voice she always used with her sons.
"Itachi niichan won't practice with me!" I whined as my mother smiled lovingly at me. Fugaku walked over to me and crouched down by my left side. His eyes glowed with love and his smile made me slightly smile back.
"Son, maybe Itachi is busy," Fugaku explained to me while I was now pouting again.
"With what? All he does is sit in his room, and never does anything!" I cried as my mother walked away and returned to her work. Mikoto moved about the kitchen as she set the table with clear plates and silver cutlery. She straightened out the chair, and she soon walked over to the oven, now making desert.
"Itachi is the lazy type. It's as if he's in his own world," Fugaku explained to me, as I now turned to see the door to the kitchen open, revealing Itachi. Itachi's long deep grey hair was in his dark blue eyes so no one realized that his eyes had grown into slits as he heard his father speaking about him that way.
"Itachi niichan, I want practice!" I yelled at my emotionless brother. Itachi's cold eyes shifted from our father to me. Fugaku stood up and walked over to his wife as he helped her with cleaning the dishes.
"Practice with Otosan," was Itachi's cold replay.
"But niisan, you're better than Dad!" I replied as our father grinned. Itachi rolled his eyes and walked over to the table as he sat down. I glared at him, and Itachi tried to ignore it. I sat down beside him, glaring at him continuously until Itachi grinned and rolled his large dark eyes.
"Please?" I asked sweetly as I swung my legs under the table. Itachi looked over to Mother who was smiling sweetly at him, like always. His eyes shifted to Father. He glared at him for a while as if showing him the hatred he felt, but then he turned to me.
"No," Itachi replied to me, making me pout again.
"Itachi!" Fugaku raised his voice to the thirteen year old boy. At this Itachi got up as he dropped his fork on the floor and walked out of the room, leaving his mother gasp, his father angry, and me, stunned.
"Kaasan, what's wrong with Niisan?" I asked as I went under the table to pick up the fallen fork. I sat back on my chair and smiled at my annoyed father, my heart sinking lower. Mother sighed in deeply trying to think of something to say that would comfort me.
"He's just annoyed that you're asking him over and over again," she said and smiled as she shoved the fork in her mouth and swallowed the food. I looked at her, and then back to my own plate, feeling guilty in making Father mad because of my whining and also annoying Niisan. As soon as I had finished eating I walked into my brother's room. His room was dark, not like it was usually. I glanced around the room, my eyes getting larger, trying to see through the darkness.
"Niisan!" I yelled out, "I'm sorry, Niisan!" I yelled again but there was no reply. I shrugged and walked out and into my room, where I rested for the night. The next morning I went to school, but before I knew it, school was over so I headed home.
I looked around, but no one was there. I felt a shiver down my back as I realised that not one person was out on the street. There were no lights on in the houses; no people on the porch, there were just two people in the distance…
"Auntie, Uncle!" I yelled as I ran to them, but instead of being hugged by them, I felt tears fall down my face. My aunt lay down in a pool of blood, blood spilling from her stomach. Her once beautiful white hair was now blood red. Her eyes had lost their pupil and they were just white with a bloody outline. Uncle lay down right beside her, his stomach gushing out blood onto his left hand.
I turned around with tears in my eyes and ran into my house to tell my parents. I ran in screaming out their names but no one replied. I ran into the last room of the house where I was them. I gasped as I noticed my father lying sideways across my mother, their eyes white, and their faces pale. My mother's face had no smile on it, something I had never seen in my life. There in the distance of the room was a figure, my brother.
"Niisan! Who did this?" I screamed out, my eyes filled with tears. I ran to him for comfort, but as soon as I saw his face I understood. In his right had he held a sword that was filed with blood, my clan's blood.
"Nande?" I screamed out at him.
"I was testing my strength, besides you're not worth killing," he explained to me. I stared at him trying to understand but I didn't. The man I loved more than the whole world had killed my entire clan except me. For how many days had he been planning this? For how many days had I thought he was smiling at mother in love, but instead he was smiling at the thought of her dead. For how many days had he been glaring at my father, and planning a more horrifying way to make him suffer.
That was when I was six years old, seven years ago. Now I lay down awake on my bed reliving the memories I once had. I try to understand why he didn't kill. It's not because I'm not worth killing, everyone is worth killing. He didn't kill me because he loved me. He didn't try to kill me the other time I met him, he pushed me out of the way. He broke my wrist but he didn't kill me.
I still think the thought over, and sometimes I find it hard to believe, but now I know something for sure.
"I still love you, but because of love I will kill you," I say to myself, and that thought comforts me.