Naruto Fan Fiction
SI-OC!
(Title)
"The Weasel and His Cat"
DISCLAIMER: I do not own 'Naruto'!
WARNING! RATED M! For warnings of harsh language.
Itachi groaned quietly, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the light causing him so much pain. A shiver went through his body and he wrapped himself up further in his blankets, regretting eating that little bite of breakfast he managed to keep down. If there was one thing that Itachi hated in this world, it was being sick.
"This wouldn't be happening if you didn't spend so much time on the forest floor, little weasel." drawled a bored voice. At the sound, two bloodshot eyes cracked open to stare up at the window sill he thought he'd closed. There, sitting primly, was the black furred Feline he calls Tomomi.
"To... momi-san? What are you... doing here?" he rasped, the action causing him to fall into another coughing fit for the umpteenth time that day.
She straightened her spine from her position on the sill, looking down on the bedridden boy with her usual indifferent eyes. "I've come to mock your misery, of course. Why else?"
He frowned, eyes narrowing at the cat.
"Go'way…" he mumbled.
She blinked in surprise, not expecting that kind of reaction. After recovering her senses she let out a low chuckle, settling herself in a more comfortable position. Things took an interesting turn than she had been expecting when she decided to see just how 'sickly' the little weasel was.
"It's not so pleasant when someone intrudes onto your domain, is it?" she taunted the child.
He gave her what she believed was supposed to be an attempted glare. However he just looked like a put-out kitten in her opinion, the boy did not know how to properly glare it seems.
"...why don't you go spend more time with Shisui…" he muttered, pulling the blanket up to his face as he looked away from the Feline. She looked down at him incredulously.
"Why in the nine circles of hell would I do that for!?"
His eyes were the only feature visible from beneath the bedding, he glanced back up at the Feline. "It's because… you spent the day with him at the festival... last week."
Her ear twitched.
"He hunted me down." she stressed. "I didn't want anything to do with the infernal teenager! The fever might've addled your soft head even further then usual but if you recall correctly, little weasel, you are the ones to seek me out."
Itachi didn't respond further, his bottom lip pushing out in what the Feline believed to be a pout. Her bewilderment increased ten-fold at the out of character expression. Perhaps the fever really did fry his little brain. Another chill racked his small body and he curled further up into the blanket cocoon.
The Feline exhaled long through her nose, her annoyance with the child fading. If only the slightest amount.
Despite her words, she actually didn't find any pleasure in seeing the little weasel in such a state of distress. The sight of his pale and sweaty face made her stomach turn uncomfortably. A part of her, the rational part, was telling her to leave him where he lie and return to her domain and remain there, unbothered and unconcerned for the rest of this short lifespan. Another part, the small and usually quiet and dormant part, saw a small girl with mousy brown hair that spoke with an unfortunate lisp instead of a much too proficient child soldier.
It pained her in a way not much has in many, many years.
The latter part won out.
"Tell me, little weasel... have you ever heard the tale of one Gol D. Rogers? The first Pirate King?" she asked softly.
Itachi opened his eyes slightly, peering up at the Feline as if to see if the fever was playing tricks on him, causing him to imagine Tomomi speaking.
"...no." he said quietly.
She crossed her paws over one another and began.
"There was once a port city known as 'The town of the Beginning and the End'." she told him, taking note of how he inched closer in his blanket cocoon so he could hear her better. "It was here that the man Gol D. Rogers was born, and it would also be where he died..."
Itachi listened to her tale with rapt attention, Tomomi was an excellent story-teller. He could imagine the seas and could practically smell the brine water from the details she added, it was as if she was telling it from her own personal experience. Soon his eyelids grew heavier with sleep and he was dreaming of far off seas. Even after Itachi had long drifted into a sleep filled with pictures of an endless blue expanse and fearless pirates, she had continued to speak. Getting lost in old, but no less fond, memories she wished would go away someday soon.
The Weasel and His Cat
TO BE CONTINUED
A/N: Aww, poor Itachibi. We got some more backstory on Tomomi, huh? What's that about? What's this chick-err, cat's story?
We'll find out eventually! Love you guys!
-Nanami