Night. The only time of the day I'd marginally almost like. Maybe it's because stalkers and rapists and murderers haunt the night with uncanny stealth and quick blade to get the job done quickly and efficiently.

They are the real people. The people that don't run away from their nature. These people I can only admire, even if their victim was me.
Not that any simple rapist or murderer could possibly inflict pain upon me.
Still, the night has always been dark and vial, filled with fears, filled with anxiety, filled with horror.

But how is the night supposedly romantic? Well, I never got love in the begin with, but the idea that people idolized exploding balls of gas and creeping predators to set a mood of sentimental feelings is just… completely absurd.
You're logical, you must think there's something odd about that.
Humans are just weird I suppose. Ode' to challenge for me. I don't really care otherwise.

Well, back to the point. You're lost in your own chain of thoughts too I see.

What are you thinking about? Is it about the ANBU? Me?

No, there's no reason to think about those things. Past. I'm in your past and you're in mine.

We're just reliving for the hell of it right now. Maybe as a reminder to the other as to say, 'Yeah, I'm still here. Yeah, I'm still doing the same old same old.'

Or maybe you're pondering about something else. Something recent. Something that involves a comrade or friend. Some tragedy in their life. Or perhaps even your own.

What are you thinking about?

I want answers.

"What happened to you?"

It's a simple question that covered everything really; I was wise to pick through vocabulary.

I could tell, you've changed since I last saw you and used my Tsukiyomi. You're not very good at concealing things from me, it was carefully spelled out when my techniques of pain caused hardly any reaction. I cut you to ribbons with my katana and you don't even give a mere wince. You weren't any fun, you know?

Maybe that was why I let you live again for a second time.

When your fear of my power, my Sharingan, that I could so easily manipulate in our previous façade was dashed and replace with apathy.

But even when apathy was necessary for ANBU, you still feared me in a silent way.

Something broke you recently.

It's as clear as day. The fact my words have left you speechless in mild shock is almost insulting.

Yes, I can read you like a book.

Yes, I will read you like a book.

Perhaps maybe we could lay it all out on the table so we can plan accordingly from there. What broke you? It wasn't my Tsukiyomi, I know it wasn't my Tsukiyomi.

You've grown stronger. Fiercer. Colder.

Something broke you and denial sure as hell isn't going to fix it.

Your eyes look away. Both of them. Both of you turn aside.

But your lips are still moving under that dark fabric. The glow of the moon barely makes the silent words being retorted visible. In ANBU brigade724 code.

-'Why don't you tell me?'-

I don't understand. Don't beat around the bush or you'll end up in the bush with that kid who wandered to the wrong place at the wrong time.

-'I didn't break you,'- I mouth back. It seemed alien to start up using that again. Every two years the ANBU would change the code around so nukenin such as myself couldn't crack it and predict attacks and battle formations/ adjustments.

Brigade724. The last brigade I was in, the last code I was taught.

You're speechless again.

Have you really nothing to say?
Or really nothing you have to say?

"Why do you want to know?" You turned your back on me, curled your knees up to your chest to keep warm. You're still shivering.
You have to have lots of gall to turn your back on me like that. You've always had some sense of rebellion, of pride, of reaction without thought.

But now it's worse than I've ever seen it.

"Who broke you?" I asked again, evading your question.

I can see it right through your back, you're grimacing. You know you can't leave with me here, especially since you're lacking almost all of your chakra. You know you do what I say when I say it or else you're dead.
But you don't seem to mind being dead, just the obeying part.

"Why," You growl softly, resting your head on top of your knees and letting loose silver hair fall across your face.

You really should grow it out.

"I want to know what's wrong with my toy," I mutter sarcastically while staring spitefully at your back. You know you can't get away with remarks such as that without some sort of rebuke.
I watched your body visibly cringe and slowly turn back to me, eyebrows raised with concern and curiosity. And it hit me.

Damn my monotone voice. Damn your perversion.

Whatever. Think what you want. It's not my concern.

"Itachi… that has to be on the top five most disturbing things you've ever said to me…"
Your games are cute, but they're getting irritating.

"Shut up and answer me." I quickly realized that I shouldn't have said anything.
A grin slid on your face and your eye narrowed cheerfully. Somehow, I wasn't surprised at what came next.

"Do you want me to shut up or answer? I'm not quite sure I can do both-"

"Don't be a smartass," I cut you off swiftly. I had to end your fun before you could rattle off with nonsense. Not one of your qualities I found amusing. Definitely.

"Aren't you the life of the party," You pout but drop it. "I'll try."

And you stared back up at the stars with morose, almost brooding eyes.
Eyes I haven't seen in a long time.