Disclaimer: (Herbal) Osaka-neechan does not own Naruto.

Focus pairing: Itachi+Sasuke

Characters: younger Itachi, Sasuke

Content and storyline warning: Peculiar sadism, strange thoughts

Overall genre: Psychology/Drama

Summary: Seven-year-old Itachi holds a yellow balloon blown only eight centimeters high and wide. It is a baby's heart, his baby brother's heart. And he just killed his baby brother.

Point of view: Itachi

Perspective: Third person

The conceptual corner: The addition and split of another drabble after the initial piece rounded "Anesthesia" out rather pleasingly—and a bonus for this writer, the piece is not as vague as her typical fanfiction, being more simple, and hopefully not too over-the-top.

The reception corner: From the previous author's note, "I guess I am a sadist, considering I initially had Itachi's thought until I decided two seconds afterwards that it belonged to him." Read on for enlightenment. --;;

The crackpot corner: "..." ( This piece truly does speak for itself—truly. -.-" )


Anesthesia


I. Ashes

Itachi holds a yellow balloon blown only eight centimeters high and wide. His arms are stretched, reaching the sky, and the yellow contrasts against the summer blue. He is sprawled on the grass outside his house, on a day where a breeze constantly laps his face, the clouds moving lazily past his vision.

His mother and father are in the hospital.

His fingers grip the balloon firmly, pushing down and out, and feels the balloon react, going down and out. He thinks, absentmindedly, "If this was a heart…a little baby's heart… then, I would have to keep doing this… to make the heart keep pulsing… for the… for the baby…"

He does so; he keeps the balloon pulsing for a few moments, while he thinks, "If I stopped…the baby would die… The baby, out of his mother, in the world, suddenly dying… because his heart stopped… Because I stopped his heart… me…"

He stops.

"So… the baby is dead."

Slowly, a sensation fills him, swallowing him, spreading gradually from his scalp to the tips of his fingers and toes, making a flush appear in his normally whitewash-toned skin.

"All because… of me."

Slowly, he begins to smile—a small smile—a loving, sadistic smile.

II. Rebirth

Sasuke is four and sitting on his older brother's lap. He lets Itachi comb through his hair, trying to cherish a few, precious moments that are often few and far apart.

'Sasuke,' Itachi speaks up abruptly. Sasuke blinks as he watches Itachi place the comb by them on the grass, and reddens when his brother leans in, wrapping his arms around the little boy's body and gathering him closer.

'B-brother?' Sasuke stammers, unsure.

'Did I… ever tell you… that you died, once?'


End