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.
What was the meaning of life and death?
He remembers that he had asked Tomomi that same question some years ago now. She had told him that he was asking the wrong questions. She told him he should spend more time with his eyes focused on the people and things in the present, before it slipped from his grasp.
Back then he thought she had evaded answering his question, but it was only tonight that he realized that she had been trying to impart to him something that was terribly precious. He wished he had realized it sooner.
Itachi closed his aching eyes, feeling the silence ring loudly in his ears.
"Little weasel?" a quiet voice called out. He made no move, not turning to see Tomomi's slow approach. There was an unusual hesitation in her tone. "…I thought you would not return until the end of the week."
"I got back this morning," he answered. "I was giving debriefings all day."
Itachi opened his eyes once more to look up at the moon hanging in the cold, dark night sky.
He thought it looked rather lonely.
"What has happened?" she asks, voice quieter, but alert.
Itachi opened his mouth to answer but the words failed him as soon as his eyes met her bright green gaze. His mouth shut as his throat closed up, restricting his airways. His breaths began to become uneven and his head became lighter, heat and pressure building up around his eyes. He sucked in a breath and held it tightly in his chest, trying to regain control.
A familiar weight landed on his shoulders, a comforting warmth wrapping around his neck.
"Release it," she commanded.
He dared not breathe. The pressure in his head grew even harder until his vision began to grow hazy. Tomomi urged him once more, speaking kindly. More kindly than he had ever heard her speak before.
"…do not let yourself be consumed by this, little weasel."
All at once it seemed the emotions he had been attempting to compartmentalize suddenly broke free, tearing past the barriers he raised to shut them away. A ragged gasp escaped him and once the tears had begun to fall, Itachi found he had no way of stopping them.
Tomomi sat still on his shoulders, offering a silent and comforting presence as weak sobs escaped his lips. Her warm fur pressed against his neck and her whiskers brushed against his cheek. Before today, Itachi had never really known the pain of losing a precious life, or of the fear that now lingered in his chest every moment. The fear of losing someone else and being helpless to stop it from happening.
Tenma-kun was dead.
That day, Itachi had awakened his Sharingan.
That night, he had realized the price of it.
The Weasel and His Cat
TO BE CONTINUED
A/N: T_T Itachibi tears are bad for my heart. Throughout the writing of this chapter, I listened to Isabelle's song from the Promised Neverland soundtrack and it gave me such feeeeeels. But, THERE! There is the first step into our descent into tragedy! I've warned all of you for so long! See, now I've made a little kid cry... which is why I couldn't in good conscience post this without a SECOND post to scoop right on behind that sadness with some hope. Because I love and support Hope and honestly? I think we could all do with a bit more hope in these times.
Go on, you fruity lovelies. You deserve it.
-Nanami