Itachi and his mother met once a week for lunch.
It was, in his mind, a perfect arrangement: his mother encouraged him to step out of the library occasionally and it meant he could stay relatively up to date on how Sasuke was doing without seeming too overbearing.
It had worked out just fine thus far. His mother was always full of news about Sasuke and Naruto's latest misadventures, and he could talk endlessly about whatever new rabbit hole of research he had fallen down. His mother would listen patiently, occasionally throwing out questions and smiling even when he knew she couldn't possibly be interested in his unbelievably niche topics.
As she set a kettle on the stove, Itachi recounted his newest cataloging project, a series of diaries written by an Iwa monk who had gone five years without saying or writing a single word.
"So at the end of the five years, he locked himself in his cell and spent an entire month writing down his thoughts and observations from those years. That means of course the dates are an absolute mess—his attention to detail is certainly commendable and his memory is unbelievably acute but most of the diaries make a mess of when certain events occurred."
"It seems as though you've definitely found something that has caught your attention," his mother replied over her shoulder, her voice mild.
He nodded, hesitating a moment before going into more detail. "It has. I found these diaries by accident—they had been shelved with some diaries from another monk by mistake. I happened to notice them when I was researching an older religious ceremony in Iwa and decided to give them a more in depth look. They weren't exactly helpful for that topic, but some of his notes have been interesting."
His mother hummed thoughtfully as she watched the kettle come to a boil, her hand tapping on the counter. "Are you considering incorporating this into your final project? It looks like you're putting an awful lot of work into it."
Itachi paused for a moment. Most of his classmates had completed their theses and graduated by the time they turned eighteen. While he had started later than most of them, Itachi had also breezed through the curriculum and was now falling behind, still figuring out his research at nineteen. "Ah… Well, I'm still deciding. It might, but I haven't made any definite plans."
There was, after all, no real hurry: he commanded a liveable salary teaching lower-level courses, and all students (even ones who dragged their feet) were granted their own stipends for modest living expenses. He could, potentially, remain there forever if he pleased.
"Of course," his mother said. She pulled down a jar of tea leaves from her spice shelf and, seeing her move onto her tiptoes to reach it Itachi couldn't help but realize he had, at some point, grown taller than her. It must have happened some point after he'd left for school but, thinking back on it, he could not recall the exact time.
"I'll be excited to see your final project, though. You've grown into such a smart young man and…" She stopped for a moment, looking over at him nostalgically, not seeming to realize she had broken off mid-thought.
After shaking her head, she continued, leaning back against the counter. "Both your father and I are looking forward to seeing you return home after you graduate. You've worked so hard and we're both very proud of you."
Itachi shifted uncomfortably, but tried to be as honest as he possibly could. "I really can't guarantee it will be anytime soon, Mother. In fact it might not happen even within the next year or so. Of course in the meantime I've been allowed to teach some classes but… I don't know when I'll have found the right topic."
His mother laughed and waved her hand. "Oh no, that's fine. Of course I didn't mean to imply anything by that—you're our son after all, we know we never have to worry about you doing well. You'll take as long as you need."
Itachi let out a nervous chuckle, scrambling for another topic they might turn to instead. "Well, thank you."
After a moment of awkward silence between them he went on. "It's just that a thesis—it stays with you. Once I complete it the rest of my work will be defined by that; it's usually a scholar's first and loudest contribution to the academic community. I don't want to rush into it."
"Mhm. It's certainly something to think about," she said, noncommittal, as she placed two mugs on the table and walked over to grab the kettle.
They were not the same mugs he and Sasuke had used growing up. These mugs, rather, were part of a tableware set his mother had gotten as a wedding gift from a close friend of hers, delicate ceramics with small blue flowers hand-painted on the sides.
His mother had always brought them out when they had special guests, but at one time they had been only for those such occasions. Now, she used them whenever he stopped by to have lunch.
He supposed he didn't mind being considered a guest now.
"Hm. You know," his mother started, tapping her chin thoughtfully, "I heard some unfortunate news about the Inuzuka family the other day. You see, a cousin of theirs, Akira, just found out she's pregnant with triplets. Triplets! Can you imagine such a thing?"
Itachi shook his head and wondered briefly why his mother was gossiping with him about the Inuzukas, of all families, and why having children would be unfortunate. "I don't believe I've had the chance to meet her before."
His mother waved a hand. "She's a very nice girl—brought up in a good family like that you would have to be. It's tragic, though… I heard through Tsume that Akira and her husband are having some hard times—she's apprenticed to an apothecary while he mainly looks after the little ones. They already have two but three more? All at once? Tsume mentioned that Akira was hoping someone else in the village would be willing to take one of the babies in as their own."
He frowned, still not seeing the relevance. "That is rather unfortunate. Hopefully they're able to work something out."
"Ah…" and his mother's mouth perked up. "That would be nice, wouldn't it? If some loving couple who couldn't have a child of their own would take one of the babies in. They won't be born for several months, so that does give her plenty of time to find a nice young family…"
"I suppose so…"
"And you've always been so good with children. You looked after Sasuke all the time when you were younger—"
It was about then that Itachi caught where this was going. He sighed, amazed he'd been caught in such an easy trap, and said, "Mother, it's far too early for me to consider children, of all things."
She held her hands up defensively. "Oh, but of course! I was just letting you know; your father and I were a year younger than you when we were married, though." She gave him a conspiratorial wink. Any of her polite deference was gone now and she barrelled forward, waving her hand as she talked. "—and grandchildren would be nice one of these days, might as well start thinking of it now. We all know Shisui would be ready the second you—"
"Mother!" He looked away, beyond mortified. "I'm in no hurry to marry anyone. Even Shisui."
"Even Shisui?"
"Even Shisui, Mother."
"Even Shisui what?" A voice called from the open front door and Itachi flinched.
An ambush.
Things between him and Shisui had been, well, odd for lack of better terms since Itachi left the village. It wasn't as though Shisui had done anything or that Itachi was avoiding him… They just didn't see each other as much as they once had. Shisui spent much of his time of the road and, well, Itachi was rarely present in the village to begin with.
The years had been good to Shisui, though, leaving him firm and broad where once he had been lanky and awkward. His hair seemed to get longer every time Itachi saw him, his messy curls almost shoulder length now but still held back from his face with the same elastic headband he'd used since they were both teens.
When he looked away his mother briefly met his eyes, cocking an eyebrow at him before lightly clapping her hands together. "Shisui! How nice of you to stop by. Here," she said, getting out of her chair, her tea long forgotten, as Shisui strolled further into the kitchen, hands tucked casually into his pockets, "you can sit here; I've been meaning to get started on lunch."
"Oh, well thanks!" Shisui said, plopping down across from Itachi and leaning back against the chair. "Sure you don't need any help?"
"No, no. I've got it all under control here. Itachi and I were just catching up—he's getting closer to finishing his thesis."
Mother. Itachi tried to backpedal. "Well I don't know about being close to that but, ah, I've been doing research, of course." Doing research? Of course he was doing research! Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"That'll be nice, though, won't it? Once you're all finished there you could come back to the village; I'm sure the Mayor and our Sergeant Major will be brawling in the street over who gets to recruit you," Shisui teased, giving Itachi a beautiful, toothy smile.
"Ah…" Shisui was, at best, only being polite. Itachi tucked a piece of hair behind his ear, and tried to think of something that would not be too contrarian. It would be, he supposed, more sensible to be upfront about his plans. "I still haven't decided on whether I'm going to return permanently, to be honest. There's so much to do at the University; once I finish my thesis I may take a research apprenticeship under one of the masters."
He thought about adding more, and then shrugged. "I would like to eventually pursue my own course of research, as opposed to coming—"
"Oh, this is so horrible, boys!" his mother interrupted, sighing. "I thought I had sage but I'm all out! I don't suppose you two would mind running over to Yamato's and asking him for some?"
Shisui shot Itachi an amused look before standing and giving the table an enthusiastic smack, his curls shaking. "You know we're always good for it! Come on 'tachi, we've got a mission."
Stupefied, Itachi followed behind him.
"That was almost certainly a plot to get us out of the house," Itachi commented when they were out of earshot. "Mother doesn't seem to like the idea of me staying at the University any longer than necessary."
Shisui let out a snort. "Yeah, I'm not stupid. She, ah… Well, your mom has the best intentions, I suppose. She wants to make sure you're happy."
"She wants me to get married; she even brought up adopting a child."
He definitely wasn't staring, but he could tell Shisui's posture had straightened just the smallest bit. "You don't say?"
"I don't need to get married to be happy, though, Shisui."
"Well no, you don't. I think it's less about you getting married and more about, you know, you being away so much."
Shisui was definitely staring at him now, probably trying to catch his eye. Itachi kept his focus on what was directly ahead of him.
"I come back every week; if I needed to be around more often surely she would have asked me."
Shisui laughed, bitter and short. "What good would that do? I can't speak for your mom but… well, you're a pretty stubborn guy, Itachi. I'm sure your mom knows you're gonna do whatever you want no matter what she says. And you're busy there—I'm sure she doesn't want to get in the way of that."
"I would listen to her."
They were at Yamato's shop. Shisui waited patiently while Itachi ran inside, trading the minimum number of pleasantries with Yamato before rushing back out with his mother's sage.
Shisui continued as if they hadn't been interrupted. "I understand why your mom worries."
Itachi paused briefly, trying to resist the urge to make eye contact. "Oh?"
"You're a good liar—even to yourself. Now, it goes without saying that you're absolutely brilliant and I wouldn't be surprised if you were the smartest person to ever study at the University… but with you being there all the time I can't help but feel like you're trying to avoid us."
"I have nothing to run from."
"That's my thought too, but it just seems odd to me." Shisui was walking slightly ahead of Itachi now, staring down, his hands shoved in his pockets.
Shisui went on. "You just left… When you quit the rangers I thought, well, you just got tired of it; there's nothing wrong with that. Now I can't help but feel like there's more to it, though. You never write, you rarely ever come home and when you do you… well, your trips home are so brief and you spend most of your time just seeing your mother…" he trailed off, looking at Itachi expectantly.
Itachi was not so out of touch that he could disagree with what Shisui was saying, and he was aware that, yes, he did go out of his way to avoid other people. This was not, of course, Shisui's fault or specific to Shisui, but he couldn't help but wish Shisui would get tired of waiting for him. What had he ever done to deserve that kind of loyalty?
"I'm not running from anything, Shisui," he repeated, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible.
"Have you… is there someone there you've met?" Shisui asked, waving one of his hands. "Because that's totally fine! I mean I would be glad if you had—or if you've made friends or have something that's keeping you there, I'd support you! I just… I would just rather know, that's all. As your best friend. Just what's going on with your life now."
"Shisui…" Itachi shook his head before continuing. "I like what I do. As much as you like exploring or Yamato likes gardening. It isn't about other people and… No, there isn't anyone else. All of the people who mean anything to me live here."
"But aren't you lonely, then? Being so far away?"
"No. I am not."
"I don't believe you."
"Shisui, I…" They were right in front of the house, inches away from the door. Itachi eyed it hopefully, knowing Shisui wouldn't continue this conversation within his mother's hearing.
Before Itachi could open it, though, Shisui reached for his hand, making it impossible for him to just walk away without causing an even more dramatic scene. Shisui's hand was rough and warm over his own and Itachi suddenly could not wait to be back at the University and back in his own room, with the door shut and locked.
Alone.
For once Shisui wasn't smiling, his face dead serious, a barely-worn crease between his eyebrows that Itachi couldn't remember ever seeing before.
"Just… just give me a second here to talk. I don't think it needs to be said that you mean a lot to me; we've been best friends since we were kids and I don't expect that to ever change. Itachi, I… before we grow so far apart that we can't even have this conversation, there's something I want you to know. Something I've been thinking about for a while."
Itachi's stomach plummeted.
He would have to be a fool to not recognize where this was going and he would be an even greater fool if he let it continue.
Shisui's 'secret' was probably one of the worst kept ones in the village. As they had gotten older, Shisui had gotten worse and worse at hiding his sidelong glances and suspiciously long hugs. To Itachi's knowledge, Shisui had never so much as flirted with another villager, let alone actually pursued a relationship with anyone other than Itachi.
He'd just never had eyes for anyone else.
Shisui treated Itachi as though he were special and Itachi could never bring himself to understand why. Shisui could have his pick of the village; he was kind and clever, charismatic and funny. Every year it seemed he was growing taller, brighter. More charming.
Excusing Sasuke, being around Shisui was the closest Itachi had ever come to pure happiness.
But there were factors much more important than that. Shisui deserved freedom. If he and Itachi were together, their relationship would be a chain on Shisui, tying him down to one home, one village, one country. Itachi had no interest in traveling again, knew he was done with that way of life the moment he walked away from the rangers.
How could Shisui spend months sailing between the islands of Kiri or climbing the mountains of Kumo if Itachi would not come with him? And, if he truly loved Shisui, how could Itachi keep him from pursuing those adventures?
Shisui deserved an equal, a partner who could be as brave and fearless as he was, who wanted to spend their nights huddled together in makeshift tents and wake up to bathe in unknown streams and lie down under foreign sunsets.
Itachi was not his equal, not on any grounds. Itachi could not leave the village or the University for weeks at a time, would not sleep out in the open where any manner of creature might happen upon them.
Itachi lived in a stone fortress guarded by the King's own forces and still did not feel entirely safe within it.
Shisui deserved to hear all of this but if he did… Shisui would worry, he would think it was somehow his fault that Itachi was so broken, that it was his responsibility to fix Itachi.
Shisui did not deserve to have all of Itachi's burdens dropped on him in such a way.
Itachi might be a coward, but he was not a selfish one.
So, instead of allowing Shisui to speak his mind and risk him letting out the secrets between them, Itachi did what any coward would do.
He leaned into Shisui's grasp and hugged him around the waist, burying his face in Shisui's neck so he would not have to look him in the eye.
"It's okay, Shisui," he said, almost a whisper, knowing it was shame that kept him from speaking louder. "Things will never change between us; you will always be my best friend."
When Itachi pulled away he walked straight into his parents' house, too scared to look behind him and take ownership of the devastated look on Shisui's face.
When the Iwa monk Itachi studied spent that month recounting his five silent years, his diaries turned into an incoherent mess: there was so much information stored in his head that the monk couldn't make a sensible framework out of it. The monk would write the events of a week in perfect chronological order, but within that week there would exist dozens of tangents describing people who the monk would not actually meet for several years hence, or repeating events which had taken place months prior.
The funny thing about holding things in is that when they came out you could just never predict how they would look.
Itachi could understand why, when that time came, the monk preferred to be alone.
He did not return for lunch the next week.
I feel the need to personally apologize to Shisui here, guys, I really do.
If anyone was curious, the title is from "Against Still Life," a favorite poem of mine by Margaret Atwood.
And, as much as I love exposition, next chapter we'll get into the story proper.
As always, comments, candles burned in my name, questions, and engagement of any sort are all welcome. Special thanks to those who have subscribed and already left comments!
You can find me on tumblr as something-like-air