Author's Note:
Hello everyone!
I am currently editing a bunch of chapters given that I haven't done it at all since posting this fic... Sorry it's so cringy! But for now, this one is just about finished, so here it is!
Please leave reviews and like/follow this fic if you enjoy it!:) That shit keeps me going, as sad as that may be lol.
Stay safe out there!
J.E.
I don't own Naruto
I kept a distance from Itachi while we walked in a tense silence towards the waterfall. Despite my despair at my current circumstances, the prospect of ridding myself of the thick layer of grime and blood covering me was a salvation. I breathed an internal sigh of relief at the sound of crashing water off in the distance. It was the most beautiful music to my ears. The tantalizing sound grew closer, making my legs move the smallest bit quicker.
The forest opened into a small grove with a narrow waterfall spilling over dark rocks into a shallow pool, the moon glistened and shimmered off the surface of the water. The tranquil beauty of the midnight shrouded spring lifted the corners of my lips into a slight smile as the refreshing smell of the forest mixed with the damp mist radiating from the waterfall filled my lungs.
Itachi's slender hand reaching out towards out of the corner of my eye snapped the focus back into me. Something small and white sat in his outstretched palm, forcing me to squint under the dim moonlight. It seemed to be a small bar of like soap.
"Here, you can use this to clean up with." He muttered. With some hesitancy, I peeked my confused eyes upwards at him and snatched the soap out of his hand.
"I'll need to remove your bandages." He remarked, directing his gaze to my injured head.
"I—I can do it myself." I stammered as my fingers began to unwind the wads of cotton.
"I have no doubt that you can," he started while taking a step forward. "However, I need to see the damage you've inflicted upon yourself."
He's right... Damnit.
I puffed my cheeks out and spun around. He breathed a laugh and began tactfully unwrapped the thick layer of cotton bandages, using his fingers to part my hair to the side. He gently spread the blood-soaked hair encircling the gash before carefully tilting my head down a touch to better examine the back of my head.
"I'll clean this after you're finished washing up, to prevent it from getting infected." Itachi stated, then released the matted strands of hair.
He remained apathetic while handing me some article of clothing and a towel in a neatly folded stack. "Here, these are mine. I know they will undoubtedly be too large for you, but we need to get you out of those rags." My face crinkled in confusion as I mumbled an almost inaudible "thank you".
Why is he being so generous?
His obsidian irises dropped to scan the gaping holes and rips in my tattered shirt. It left my linen bindings and much of my bare chest dangerously exposed. Heat flushed my cheeks, my arms crushing the items in my hands against my body. He dropped his gaze before spinning around to face the thick brush, "I'll be close by. Don't attempt anything foolish. For your sake. And mine." Itachi growled.
He better not fucking watch me...
"Hey," I called out. He halted on a dime, causing me to go rigid. Swallowing the fear, I continued, "You'd better not look or anything, alright?"
A low, rumbling chuckle escaped his lips as he peered over his shoulder. "I may be an S-class criminal, but I'm not indecent. I'll respect your privacy, so long as you don't do anything foolish. Regardless, you're not in any position to be making demands." He chided with a smirk before disappearing into the lush green forest.
I hoped he would be true to his words, but even with the Uchiha's prying eyes gone, I couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling of someone studying me from a far.
Who cares? Fuck it. Go get clean, you really do need it.
It was worth the risk. I sighed and ambled over to the edge of the spring, dipping a toe in to gauge its temperature. The frigid water forced me to recoil, shuddering at the electric shock of cold surging up my spine. I would have to make do, freezing water was nothing compared to a raging infection.
I took an uneasy breath and with one more scan of my surroundings, I tugged off my dirty, tattered clothing and hugged my bare flesh while stepping down into the waist high pool. The freezing water prickled my blood-stained, dirty skin with goosebumps. A harsh shiver left my teeth chattering as clutched my chest tighter and began to wade towards to the small waterfall. Stopping and standing in front of it, I stuck both hands out into feel its force and hissed at the temperature as I stepped under rivulets of water.
Between the dust and blood, the water turned murky and rust colored and swirled around in a wild torrent. Using my hands to remove as much of the grime as possible, I then began lathering a thick layer of soap over the entirety of my skin and scrubbed.
Next was my rats nest of hair. My fingers combed through it from the bottom up, instinctually moving over the base of my skull and right over the deep gash. A jolt of stinging pain rippled from the wound from the soap seeping into it.
FUCK. Did you just forget that was there or something?
I sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth at the intense sensation and pulled my hand away to check for an excess amount of blood. My hand shone shiny and pale in the moonlight. Blood free. With a sigh of relief, I cleaned the rest of my hair with extreme caution and rinsed myself off once more to ensure no soap lingered. Hugging myself, I clasped my chest and shivered while wading back to dry land in pursuit of the towel and clothes that awaited me.
The feeling of prying eyes scrutinizing me had me scanning a quick 360 degrees to ensure no one was around. There was nothing. I heaved myself up and out of the water with a muffled splash, still quaking as the freezing liquid dripped from my soaking skin.
I snatched the navy towel and dried myself off as fast as I could before wrapping the towel snuggly around my petite figure. After wringing out my wet mop of hair, I picked up the dark navy clothes Itachi had offered, a flash of red and blue over the back of the black garment caught my attention. It was the Uchiha clan symbol. Right there. On the back of the only clothes available to me.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
With an annoyed groan, my head lolled back, leaving me to glower up at the moonlit sky. This was not the time to be picky. I needed something to wear and my shredded clothing certainly wasn't a viable option. With a huff, I pulled the oversized shirt over my head, wincing as I accidentally brushed over the open wound decorating the back of my skull.
"Are you decent?" Itachi's deep, velvet voice asked from somewhere very close.
I looked around, not knowing where exactly he was speaking from. "Uh, yeah…" I grumbled. My time alone had come to an end... and I was an animal in a cage once more.
He stepped out from the other side of a nearby tree, an arm resting inside his red and black cloak. "Do you feel better?"
That dusky voice had me shifting my weight in an attempt to quell the uncomfortable tightness that pulsed through my core. "Somewhat... Thanks." I muttered. The heat creeping back into my cheeks forced me to avert my eyes any. I opted instead to stare intently at the blades of moonlit green grass beneath my feet.
In the blink of an eye, his tall, intimidating figure was looming over me from behind. I gasped and whipped around to face him. "I'm only cleaning your wound," he assured. I swallowed hard and turned back around, secretly relishing in the way wonderful sensation of hands parting and combing through my drenched hair. A soft sigh left my lips as his calloused fingertips skimmed the back of my neck. They abruptly pulled away as my heart skipped a beat. "Am I hurting you?" Itachi asked with the slightest hint of concern laced in his smooth tone. I hated that it made the warmth in my cheeks spread.
Hurting me... that's funny. It's good that's what he thinks that was.
"No!" I squeaked far too quickly to be normal. My lids slammed shut in mortification before I tried to speak again, but this time like a normal human being. "No. I—I'm fine." I added in a more regular tone. His skillful hands made quick work of the stubborn knots that were preventing him from fully parting the dense layers of hair. Dividing it into halves, he gathered it in each of his sizable hands and laid it over my shoulders. His fingers spread the hair around the wound with the upmost care as he examined it. When he didn't continue, my uneasiness left me no choice but to break the pregnant silence. "What? Am I dying or something?" Sarcasm had been my best tool for staving off my anxiety.
"No—I was just... Never mind. Forgive me," he muttered under his breath. There was something sad, almost longing, in the way he spoke that tugged at the softness in my heart. Stupid soft spot.
He resumed examining the large gash as if nothing had happened. But I couldn't help but think how moving my hair most likely exposed the Uchiha symbol on the back of the shirt that I now adorned. "This may sting some, but it will prevent infection. Ready?"
I gave a minute nod, bracing for the impeding burning sensation of what I knew was antiseptic. The scorching pain spreading down the left side of my neck and up the back of my skull left me biting back a whine. An odd tickling followed up the ache as he gingerly wrapped a linen bandage around my head.
"There," he stated, satisfied with his work. "We should get going. Kisame has a habit of causing trouble when left alone for prolonged periods of time," his lips formed into a subtle smirk. "Are you ready to go now, Sora?"
No. And I never will be.
Ignoring my internal dialogue, I nodded and took one final glance around, Being so near death had taught me to enjoy the little things. I did my best to absorb the beauty of the grove before following Itachi's cloaked form back to the camp.
Upon returning from my cleansing excursion, Kisame was sitting near the fire munching away on something that looked like a little white ball. It was onigiri. Being preoccupied with getting clean had made me forget about just how hungry I was. My mouth began to water as my stomach let out a bellowing rumble.
Kisame looked up at me and began to chuckle, "Seems like you might be a little bit hungry, kiddo. Want one?" I flushed bright red at the demonic noise my stomach had just released and silently stared at the ground, far too embarrassed to respond. Itachi walked over to Kisame, taking two onigiri from his partner and offering one to me in his slender, outstretched hand.
With a gentle grin, I peeked up at him and took the little rice ball. The smallest of smiles pulling at one corner of his lips made my heart flutter. A snicker forced my eyes to flicker over to Kisame, who'd apparently been watching the entire interaction with a mischievous smirk.
What's up with that smile?
I scowled at him and plopped down on one of the bed rolls farthest from where they were standing. Turning away from them, I chowed down the rice ball, devouring it in mere seconds. My previous captors did what was necessary to keep my alive, which meant only providing me the food and water necessary to keep my heart beating.
A hulking presence looming over drew my attention upwards in irritation that quickly softened upon seeing Kisame's shark-like face staring down at me, his brows knitted tightly with concern. "Damn, you're finished already? Did they even feed you?" He teased, undoubtedly trying to relieve some of my shrewdness while handing me another onigiri.
My gaze fell heavily to the meat filled ball of rice between my slim fingers, "Not really. They fed me only what was necessary to stay alive." My voice was painfully numb and devoid of emotion that I hardly recognized it as my own.
My fierce hunger drove me to begin munching on the delicious sticky rice of my onigiri, relishing in how good it felt to not have my stomach feel like a cavernous abyss of emptiness.
You need to slow down. You can't eat this fast after being starved and depleted.
"Fuck—I'm so sorry, kiddo... Here, hold on a second," I peeked back up at Kisame, cocking a quizzical brow at him while a large, blue hand reached into his cloak and pulled out three more onigiri. My eyes went wide in shock, "I want you to eat all of these, seriously... You need them more than I do." He stated with the most earnest expression I'd seen in some time.
A little giggle escaped my lips at his sweet and genuine gesture, "Thank you, that's very kind of you, Kisame... But, since I haven't eaten much over the last two months. I can't eat those. They'll make me sick... " I confessed, saddened by the reality of why I couldn't accept the tantalizing food he was offering.
"That's alright, you'll get there—I promise we'll help you get better so you can eat as much as you'd like." Kisame soothed before placing a canteen of water beside me. I beamed up at him in gratitude. "I'm going to get some more firewood and check our traps, I'll be back in a few." Kisame waved a hand at Itachi and me as he strode off into the thick brush of the forest.
"Did you say... two months?" Itachi probed low, taking a seat on the bed roll beside me. Sea green eyes collided with endless onyx. There was a stark change in his demeanor, flickering between anger and something I didn't expect someone like Uchiha Itachi to be capable of... sorrow. Studying the flashing, ambiguous emotions flooding his polished coal orbs, I began to sink into them. It was all I could do to give a lazy nod.
Damn, stare much longer and you might drown in those bottomless pools of slate-gray.
My consciousness slapped me back into reality as my lids slammed closed. My heart thundered against my ribs. "It's fine. I've been through a lot worse than simple starvation." The words rolled off my tongue far too effortlessly. As if starvation was the most normal thing in the world. "... could I maybe rest now?" I hesitated. At his prolonged silence, I lifted my gaze to regard him, those darkly lashed eyes were wide and an odd mix of dismay and sheer bewilderment. After another tense, silent moment, I gestured a response with a lift of my brows.
Itachi's lids fell shut in exhaustion. "Yes, of course. Forgive me for prying..." Even as his voice trailed off, it was kind. Compassionate. Giving him a small smile, I scooted myself down to lay against the bedroll and used my arm as a cushion for my injured head. A faint sigh caused me to look over at Itachi, who stood up and shrugged off his cloak.
I watched him fold it neatly before stealing a moment to scrutinize him. He wore baggy, dark navy shinobi pants that matched the navy, V-neck over a black mesh shirt. The silver necklace with three tomoe dangled over his neck and collarbone as he knelt down beside me and positioned the folded cloak at the top of my bed roll.
"Use this rather than your arm. You need something to support your head and neck." He monotoned. My puzzled and unblinking eyes stared up at him, utterly dumbfounded.
This is the same person who killed his entire clan and scarred Sasuke for life. Why is he being so... nice?
"Thank you, I—Itachi..." I finally choked out. His name sounded foreign as it passed my lips. He was the last person I thought I would ever be thanking. For anything. He laid down on his makeshift bed, and for some strange reason, faced me. His striking charcoal orbs bore into mine with an intensity that sent my heart rate spiking as my abdomen tightened.
"You're welcome, Sora." He whispered, eyes half-lidded. His expression was bewitching. My eyes widened as I swallowed hard and quickly rolled to my other side. That same low chuckle from earlier made me wiggle uncomfortably before clenching my eyes shut as I forced him to the back burner so that sleep to overtake me.