Chapter Thirty-Eight: Tough Love
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Night hit at Sasuke through his wet shirt, eyes wide open, mouth half-open in disbelief. How did his sibling find him? He was careful! How—Sage damn it, how? Sasuke stared at the unfeeling eyes and their glassy sheen and their red magnificence. The muscles contracted into a hard expression on his brother's face. Sasuke did not know how to look away; it was as though he was in a trance.
Itachi did not say anything, his eyes on his and the whole world seemed to have stopped—like the moon that hung staring in the sky. Suddenly, wind struck at Sasuke from nowhere and lifted the leaves by his feet. A shushing sound filled the space. Sasuke took a single step to the right, unable to keep his cool.
Avoiding its path altogether, Serizawa emerged from around the long ink-black shadow, an extension of his brother, Itachi. He cast a brief glance at Sasuke and quickly lowered his head. He looked nervous. He stopped by a garden-deity statue at the foot of a crooked tree. The deity's head was missing—rains were only kind to life here. Sasuke's Adam's apple quivered, and he swallowed a gasp. Sweat broke out on his face despite the air chilling his body.
His brother was still quiet. He was . . . looking at him. The few seconds in the fetters of his gaze felt like a languid eternity to Sasuke. Wind went past him again and the maddening sound of leaves invaded his guarded, secret thoughts. Itachi's hair whipped wildly in the wind. They framed his white face, hitting against his sharp cheeks that did not possess a ghost of rosiness, not even in this night. He was like a finely crafted statue of a lifeless deity—touched by moonlight, enshrouded by night. It was so unreal to the younger one.
Itachi moved his eyes, appearing strange from all the cold that found a home in their blacks to create the deepest reds, slightly to the right and gazed at the house as though it displeased him. "Holed up here, were you?" Itachi asked and brought his eyes back to Sasuke. "Did you enjoy your little game of hide and seek?"
Sasuke breathed in and out loudly, his mouth trembling, but he finally found his wind of small courage and spoke, "why are you here?"
Itachi looked at him up and down, and his mouth pulled into a half smile. There was a touch of menacing coldness to it, a hint of impishness he had never seen before. "You enjoy playing games?" he asked and dragged the tip of his sword forward against the rock jutting out from the ground. Sasuke had not even noticed it till now. The contact created a rough scraping sound that shot a wave of electricity down his spine, and the fine hairs on his neck stood on ends.
His eyes shot up to lock with Itachi's again when he took two steps forward, and he, two steps backward in fear. His mouth was dry as sand. He gulped. "What do you want? I left because I didn't want to see you again. Why are you here?" he asked again, injecting a bit of his wild fearlessness into his voice.
Itachi's smile widened, and it was a very cold smile. Then it slid from his face like the shadows slipping from his skin, giving way to slivers of white from the full moon. His face hardened some more, and the corners of his mouth drew together in displeasure. "I did not come here to play games with you," his words came out as a sharp, night-disturbing sound, "collect whatever little toys you brought along, and come to me."
"I'm not going anywhere with you, Nii-Sama," he hissed out the honorific through clenched teeth. Fury fought, simmering in his breast, and it overpowered all else for the briefest moment.
"You better listen to me and you better listen good. I am not in the mood to play with you tonight. Do you understand? The mess you have left at home—you better come before anger gets the best of me, and believe you me, I will be remorseless tonight," he pronounced in abject anger. His face . . . it frightened Sasuke.
"Then you clean it up! I don't owe you anything," Sasuke snarled in response, his face shaking. "You're so clever, aren't you? Should be a little game for you. One more problem to bury. One more path to cut. That's all you do. That's all you're good at. I can bet Otō-Sama must be proud—like he always was." He gave a sharp jerk of his head and created a contemptuous smile in reaction.
Itachi's fingers shook and firmed around the hilt. His features set in the coldest anger. "Sasuke . . . " a hiss came from his lips, ". . . when did grow so bold so as to speak to me in this manner?" His mind held his body firm against the night; his body desired to move forward in protest, but his emotion subsided at the sight of Sasuke's big wide eyes, drenched in defiance. He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes for some moments, anger receding back like a snake's head retreating into a burrow.
He opened his eyes, and they followed the drift of Sasuke's tar-black hair against the cheeks, reddened in anger and shame—even fear. He was still a darling child. Itachi put away the sword and looked at him. "What do you desire? Tell me, and I shall listen," he spoke, his voice calm, experiencing tastes of defeat before his younger sibling.
Sasuke stared back; he appeared sceptical. "Is this another one of your tricks? I'm not buying it. You always trick me and have your way. I'm not falling for it this time," he said, a weak smile appearing along his lips.
"No," he spoke, "no tricks. Tell me what your heart desires and I will do it—for you, but for Sage's sake, let go of this stubbornness. I am weary. I wish to quarrel with you no longer. You do not listen. You have little idea of the trouble you have created for yourself—for me. Do not do this. Do not be so disobedient to your brother." In his eyes, now, was a glint of desperation, hidden away by the bursting arrogance of his Sharingans.
"Trouble?" he said and gave a small laugh. "Did they declare me a Missing-Nin? Are they about to? Is that why you're here? They'll make you a Head—Head of a Missing-Nin's brother. Wouldn't you loathe it, Nii-Sama? Everyone would hate you. They'd laugh at you. Brother of a Missing-Nin! The shame—must be eating you from the inside. The wayward, bad brother. The shameful, foolish brother. He always creates messes for you. Isn't that what you always say? How I deserve to be punished—shamed—again and again and again!" Emotions, red and raw, made tremble his lips, his face, a mask of anger and anguish's mingling. Still completely defiant, he looked back at the growing disbelief on Itachi's unmoving face.
Serizawa raised his head at the sound of Sasuke's shaking voice, his face showing like a white blur, shaded by the shadows of boughs. He could not see Itachi's face. They stood at a distance from each other, a well and a stream between them. He wanted to say something, but it was between them. It was a matter between brothers.
Itachi listened quietly, his eyes reflecting pieces of emotions, as he looked back at the subtle film of raindrops upon his brother's red eyes.
"When they put a bounty on my head, you can hunt me if it pleases you," his voice turned into a hiss, and he moved his head forward, his eyes growing bigger. He looked half-mad, face working furiously with the emotions which toyed with his sanity.
"Is that what you think of me?" he asked slowly and held his gaze. He felt trembles quiver through him. His grown tongue, silent; no more words tumbled from his mouth; and, like a familiar traveller, his eyes roamed Sasuke's angry and sad face.
"You don't care. You've never cared. You treat their deaths like a stain on your perfect reputation. The perfect brother," he scoffed, "the good son they loved, and he doesn't even care. He doesn't—"
"Stop," he cut him off softly, "no more. Do not say anything more." There was little he could do to buttress the banks of his mind against his brother's sharp tongue, but he was through listening to his accusations. His face abandoned the spilling of the little emotions he did not require, and Sasuke spoke no more.
"I do not care how evil and cruel you believe me to be. I did not come here to listen to your accusations. Come to me—now," he spoke in a voice that was at its strongest, deepest, most powerful, watching Sasuke get uncomfortable under his gaze that was meant to sear the little one.
"I'm not going—not till I find—"
"They are dead. Gone. Silent," he spoke and his voice rose almost against his will. "You cannot bring them back. Let them rest. Let this go. Do you take pleasure in this? Do you enjoy tormenting me? Why must you do this—this—?" he stopped, for he could not allocate a word to what this Sasuke did. Love? Defiance? Anger? A vengeful intimacy between them all? He could not find a word to fill the space after his own.
"I don't believe you . . . " his voice trailed off, " . . . you really don't care, do you? And they loved you—you—they were killed like dogs and you—" Sasuke's voice hitched with an anger that went beyond his control, and he breathed in sharply and coughed. "You're selfish—you're cruel. You pretend to love, but you only care about yourself. You've never cared how I feel. You don't—you—"
"I do not," Itachi spoke, his voice softly changing its tone. "They are gone. They do not need you to protect them. No matter how much it wounds your heart, that is the truth, but you I can protect. You are my child, and I will always protect you . . . even from yourself."
"Damn you, I left you behind. Leave me be," he said harshly and wiped at his wet eyes.
"I cannot. You are but a child. You would not understand," he paused, his anger coming back up to haunt his eyes again, and stretched out his hand to Sasuke, "come to me. Do not do this. I will not let you ruin yourself. You are not the only one who has a right to your life. I do as well. You cannot take that from me. I will not allow it."
"I'm not going. Go on and kill me if it pleases you, but I won't go back to that cursed village—not even if you burn it down to the ground," he said aloud, voice grating, mouth pulled into a snarl.
"Why do you take pleasure in this child-like talk? You know I would not hurt you, yet you keep . . . testing my patience, and I no longer enjoy playing this hurtful game with you. No more. Come. Do you not understand?" he spoke, drawing a little closer, and Sasuke staggered back—still afraid no matter how he mouthed off to him.
"Will you hurt me again if I don't? What will it be this time?" he asked, venom interwoven with his words, his limbs trembling.
"Stop this game," he spoke, his anger rising higher and higher and kissing his eyes. "You say whatever comes to your mind and you want me to play along? I am not listening to you tonight. Stop protesting. Otherwise, I will simply state that your Taka Teammates conspired against you without your knowledge. Let us see how the Council takes it."
"Damn you—damn you to hell!" he shouted, the veins in his neck swollen like ropes. He was enraged. "What do you want? I don't want to do anything with you. Go back and be a Head. Your path is clear. One less distraction. They might even give you the best chair for taking back my head on the tip of your sword. It wouldn't be the first time you'd please them with a smile on your face." He blinked disdainfully, like a cold cat, his mouth drawn in a puzzled smile. It seemed to the older one as though he did not want to say half the things he said, but he said them, trapped in the grip of emotions.
Inside moon's loving embrace, Itachi's strange face was pale and blurry. He gazed at his wild sibling in silence, his eyes alight with an intense gleam and a touch of anger that roiled his calm and made it a turbid river beneath the storm that raged on in his mind, quiet under his control. He inhaled the wet air. Time was running out; his patience, thinning.
"What do you desire?" he spoke after a long pause, watching his younger brother draw quick breaths. "You desire to be back in Anbu? It is done. Your own Team? It is done. You do not want me to become the Clan's Head? I will not. What else do you desire? Tell me. If that is what makes you see reason, I will do it, but," he spoke and added in a softer tone, "come to me. Leave it all in the past. I do not want to see you hurting."
"They all—"
"Enough," he cut across him, fury contorting his face this time, "enough of this talk of the past. They are dead. You should make peace with their fates. I will not stand here and listen to your stories. I do not enjoy playing your games—time and time again. I have grown weary of it all." He breathed in the night wind deeply, his mouth drawn in an unbending line. "It is my fault. I always coddle you, and it has made you so stubborn. You do not listen. You always disobey me, and I let you off because I love you so. And you? You take advantage of my leniency. Starting now, I will change this arrangement, from which you benefit all the time."
Sasuke made a humph sound in his throat, his eyes, still angry and defiant. "I don't remember your tears at the funeral. I try so hard, but nothing comes to mind," his said, his voice but a mere whisper in the wind. "I wonder if you'd even shed a tear when all of us are gone. You feel so little—care so less. I wish I were you . . . " and then he went silent. His lips moved no more. He looked hurt. Sorrowful. Angry.
The boy had little idea how his words sliced deep into a man's heart, and it reacted with an ugly violence. The thought of the boy's absence . . . it terrified him—Winter's Remnant, left to wither away under another season's sun. A sudden blackness descended and flooded his mind and his unbending walls fissured; and sorrow did not come from his depths, but the coldest fury that it overwhelmed everything inside. His spirit stood shivering against his flesh—that impossible feeling of loss that was not yet upon him. It sounded to the rhythms of his heart, and he loathed the boy's careless words—so religiously.
Fates . . . he had given everything to them, yet they did not smile. He had no more to give. He had bled everything dry at Leaf's alter, bowed his brow to the ground in its light, stripped away his fleshes for its might. What more could he offer? There was but one object that calmed the wild winds of duty, honour, loyalty that blew from Leaf's short-lived Spring. That sublime feeling of pure, unending love he chose to give to this boy—his thoughts, where he was a man without pity, he hid them away. The taint was upon his hands, and he could never wash it clean. The past, a blackness, moved as ghosts within, and his empyreal substance that was free of the chains of mortal-flesh drifted along, unfeeling.
He did not feel a thing, nothing but passion; his eyes, windows that could grow no longer to assume his emotions. To take away that one slice of him that existed without duty, that allowed him to be selfish, to be human? There was no greater cruelty. Oh, but that fury ignited his veins on fire that was greater than Leaf's will, and his whole body burnt; flames of winter clawed at him and guided his anger. He never wanted to taste it . . .
Sasuke's words roused an unknowing anger in him that his fingers started to shake. His brows came together in a deep frown, and his mouth twisted in the most subtle manner. How would a child know what he meant to his heart? Sasuke had nothing but hurtful words, hateful words, child-like words: he only wanted to play, and he had lost that calm to play along.
Itachi took a single breath that scorched his spirit. The anger was too much. "Go and get your things. I am done speaking with you," he spoke in the frostiest voice and an air of such anger about him that Sasuke flinched.
"I'm not—I'm not going," he said in a small voice like that of a child's, fear crawling up his legs.
Itachi's eyes shrank, his face a mass of otherworldly rage. "Did you not hear a word? I am not asking you anything, child, I am telling you to get your things—now—so help me Sage, you do not want to anger me more," he spoke, utterly furious.
Sasuke shook his head. He opened his mouth and nothing but a sharp breath came out. It hung like a wispy fog before his face and disappeared. Itachi's control was almost gone. He did not want to hurt him. That last thread of his control, his calm, was about to break away. He moved his eyes slightly to the right and saw Karin's pink eyes peeking fearfully from behind the open door.
"Get your things," he spoke again and steered his gaze back to his brother's face that was affected so completely by fear of him. "I will not ask you again."
When Sasuke did not move, Itachi let out a sharp breath and moved towards him. Sasuke staggered back and squashed his back against the tree, his legs shaking. He was absolutely horrified and let out a choked sound. He threw his arms over his face and eyes to protect himself.
Itachi grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him forward; but when he resisted, Itachi turned around . . . and then he hit him and he hit him repeatedly and he hit him without care. His blows caught his ribs and the bones crunched and broke into pieces. Blood rushed out of his body, streaming out of his nose and coming out of his mouth and one ear. The silent forest rose up at his screams. Serizawa closed up his eyes tightly and winced. There was nothing he could do for Sasuke . . .
Karin ran to Sasuke and screamed, "stop it—you're killing him! Stop it!" She stopped dead in her tracks at the deadly Shurikens growing from his reds. Sasuke's arm was twisted in his grasp. He forced Sasuke's body down till he was on his knees and moved the shoulder till it cracked from dislocation. He cried out again, his face pressed into the wet grass.
"This is a private matter," he spoke, twisting Sasuke's shoulder still more. "It does not concern you."
"Th-this isn't what you—" she whispered between body-shaking sobs. "What are you doing?! Stop, please! Don't hurt him!" she pleaded, her lower lip trembling like air-starved fish, but he did not bother to answer her.
In that small moment of distraction, Sasuke drove his free hand up at his face. It burnt blue with Chidori. He caught his wrist and twisted it till it snapped. Sasuke let out a muffled cry of pain. "Why do you raise your hand to me?" Itachi asked, without any softness to his voice, his eyes so cold. He grabbed his arm and snapped it in two places as though it was a brittle twig. Sasuke cried out a terrible, strangled scream. The broken bones threatened to poke out, and his arm hung grotesquely as though it never had any life in it.
Itachi pushed him back, and he skidded back on the ground and got knocked against the well. He tried to get up but he could not feel anything on his left side. The broken bones of his ribcage bit into his lungs, and he struggled to breathe. The pain . . . he had never felt such pain before. It stabbed at his breast and jolted his body. A thick glob of spit and blood moved slowly down his chin, yet he was completely helpless to wipe it clean.
Itachi moved towards him again. His hands clenched so tightly that the bones beneath the skin ground. His hands were stained red with his brother's blood. He took two steps when Serizawa flashed before him, his arms spread wide. He had a pleading look on his face.
"Itachi-Sama, please, no more," he said, anxious and fearful. "You've already broken half of his ribs. His left arm is completely crushed. His fingers are broken—if you hit him any more—"
"Move," came the sound from Itachi's lips.
"Itachi-Sama, please, you've punished him enough. Please, forgive him. I beg of you," he pleaded.
"I will not ask you again," he spoke and the tremble of his lips frightened Serizawa. He pulled his arms down and stepped out of the way. He watched as Sasuke struggled to breathe, his back arching and his legs shaking, as he twisted and wriggled like a desperate fish out of water. His lips parted and his eyes opened wide. Each draw of a shaky breath brought a gush of blood to his mouth. Only moans and grunts came from his red lips. His face warped in agony as he cried, but he had no breaths to cry out loudly.
Itachi bent down and grabbed Sasuke by the jaw and lifted him up till he sat on his knees. "You wish to meet your end that badly?" Itachi asked, his breath hitting Sasuke's blood-soaked face, and it rattled his heart, chilled it. "Then let it be by my hand and on my terms. I deserve this much."
Sasuke looked back at him with half-lidded eyes. He could barely hear him speak. The pressure he was applying to his jaw made his body go numb. He could not feel anything other than the fire burning in his lungs. He coughed and the blood landed on the side of Itachi's face and neck. Itachi did not move his hand to wipe it away.
"You speak so freely of death, but you do not know a thing . . . the pain, the cold sensation of blood, life ebbing away from the body. No, Sasuke, you are an innocent and adventurous child seeking thrill, a talker who knows nothing. How does this pain feel? Do you truly want to die? Tell me, do you?" Itachi asked and leant in so close that the rusty smell of Sasuke's blood filled up his nostrils.
He slackened his grip and Sasuke collapsed by his feet. He could not move anymore. His breaths were gone, and even as he tried to pull some in, it hurt so much. Itachi grabbed him by the good arm, but he could not sit up. His whole body was going numb. He could not feel anything in his legs and the fingers of his crushed hand, and his broken arm only trembled a little. His head was hanging down lifelessly, and he made no movements to resist his brother.
Itachi moved his eyes to the crow and it disappeared. Then he turned his head at Karin's tear-streaked, shocked face and appraised her. "If you wish to return, you can do so with Serizawa—or you can leave. No one will pursue you," he spoke, and then he disappeared with Sasuke.
When Itachi appeared in the garden of his house, Reverse Summoned by Kai, it was still drizzling there. Kai's eyes widened with shock at the sight of Sasuke's bloodied form, but he swallowed up his words. He followed Itachi as he walked with a proud step and pulled Sasuke along by the arm: he did not care whether the younger one stood up or stumbled. His body was dragged across the grass and then the floor. One of his sandals was gone and his foot squeaked against the clean, polished wood.
He opened the thick latch of the prison door, pulled Sasuke up slightly, and then pushed him in roughly. All out of strength, Sasuke could not catch his balance and tumbled down and crashed face-first to the floor and went still. He looked at the hazy figure of his brother, his consciousness going, his cheek pressed into the floor. He drew a shaky, painful breath and coughed out more blood that filled his lungs. It spread around his face and cooled under the draft.
Yuu came running and stopped at the sight of him, looking from Sasuke's beaten body to Itachi's face and the remnants of a warm hue of blood across his cheek and throat. He did not say anything.
"Patch him up and clean this mess. I do not want it around when the Sensor arrives," he ordered and made to walk, but he stopped to add, "do not aid him in any manner and do not bother me with his little tricks—not till he decides to hang himself from the ceiling with that string in his pocket." Then he walked away, leaving Kai and Yuu to stare at each other in disbelief.
Stopping under the open sky, Itachi listened to rain and wind. He brought his hands up and watched as his brother's blood washed away, diluted into lovely pink upon his hands. He kept staring down. Why did he hurt him so much? He had no answer . . .
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Canon-Manga Info: This scene was similar to the one in canon manga that showed Sasuke and Itachi's first encounter after the massacre. Itachi had beaten Sasuke senseless then: he broke several of Sasuke's ribs and left wrist that Kisame chuckled and said, "no mercy!" And after that, he placed Sasuke under a cruel Tsukuyomi torture for twenty-four hours that lasted Lord knows how long inside his mind (remember, one second equals three days inside Tsukuyomi; so how many years inside Tsukuyomi would equal twenty-four hours in real time?); as a result, Sasuke fell into a deep coma, from which only Tsunade (and his genetics) managed to heal him; otherwise, Sasuke would've perished. (Itachi had done the exact same thing on the night of the massacre, as well.)
So consider these instances an amalgamation of cruelties, mental and physical, Itachi inflicted upon Sasuke through physical torture, Tsukuyomi (repetition of the genocide scenes millions of times twice, plucking out of the eye, etc.), the final battle where Zetsu commented, "Sasuke's wounds were grave," etc.