"Would you believe me," Itachi said, "If I told you duty has dictated my entire life?"
He pushed the rice around in his bowl with his chopsticks. A piece of tofu dropped off Hinata's chopsticks; it made a wet plop back in her soup. She set them down and took a sip of tea, then pressed her fingers to her chin. She frowned. Maybe he shouldn't have said it.
"Why...wouldn't I?" The question was free of malice.
"I don't know."
"I guess I um, understand it." She swallowed. "It's...it's why I'm here."
He took a sip of tea. He forced himself to look at her. "What do you think you would be doing?"
"I would..I...guess." She cringed. "I'm not sure."
Her answer was almost a relief, somehow, a point of reference in an unmapped place. She folded herself up in thought. She bit her lip, wrapped a coil of hair around her fingers.
"Do you?" She asked, after a bit.
Even as he said it, it didn't quite feel right on his tongue. "I would be on a mission, I imagine."
"By choice?"
"I guess." It wasn't something he usually paid thought to. It wasn't something he could afford to.
She frowned. "Are - are you sure?"
No, he wanted to say. His head dropped forward, hair falling in his face. I only fight, he wanted to say. A wash of heat drew itself up his body. He closed his eyes. His hands curled up in his lap. I hate fighting, he wanted to say. Hinata, if nothing else, was polite to a fault, kind to a fault - and it still felt shameful to say, like a betrayal of the Uchiha.
"Yeah," he whispered instead, shoving himself up and away from the table. "Excuse me."
sorry for the lack of updating, my life is still a fucking dumpster fire
hope you enjoyed though
-val
