So, this actually started with me idly reading Edgar Allen Poe's well known poem "The Raven", and reading several different interpretations of it. One in particular caught my eye; it said that the raven "illustrated the self-torture the narrator exposes himself to". I found that interesting (and of course immediately thought of poor Itachi), and began to wonder what else a raven may represent. This idea just kind of snowballed from there. *rolls eyes*
xXx
Stinging embers and singed vegetation were left in the wake of the destructive Goukakyuu no Jutsu as it barreled its way towards the blue man situated across the field. Despite his impressive size, the man was deceptively quick, and was easily able to avoid the giant ball of fire. His hands flew while forming specific seals in quick succession, but no matter how fast he could form the seals needed- even if his hands become nothing but a blur- he knew his opponent would be able to read each and every one.
And Itachi could. It was because of this that he knew what jutsu his partner was planning to release, as well as exactly how to avoid it.
Itachi's lithe body twisted to avoid the first water torpedo, than dropped quickly to the ground before launching himself into the air, effectively missing both the second and third liquid projectiles. As soon as his feet touched the ground, Kisame was there, bearing down on him with the monstrous Samehada. A single kunai was just enough to deflect the blow, and a second kunai hidden in the sleeve of his left hand drew a ragged cut of crimson across the larger man's chest in his moment of vulnerability.
Kisame didn't even wince at the open wound. Instead he kicked out- forcing Itachi to retreat a few feet away if only to miss the thick leg- and then hefted his blade up again for another swing.
The young prodigy raised a single defined eyebrow at the move as he noticed his partner was increasingly lacking in technique as the spar went on.
When the blue-tinged man had approached Itachi earlier requesting a quick and friendly match, Itachi had assumed it was because of the fact that the leader had assigned the two of them to the task of collecting funds for the organization- a job that had previously belonged to Kakuzu, but had been unattended to the week following his death. These new orders of course meant a 'lack of action', as Kisame had pointed out several times already. Such an element was not a necessity for someone like Itachi, but a man who craved violence like a drug- thrived off it, even- like Kisame, had no doubt been highly affected by its absence.
While Itachi took this opportunity to further perfect his use of subtleties while fighting (such as inconspicuously replacing himself with a bunshin sometime during the fight to see if his partner would catch on to the antic), Kisame obviously saw this as nothing more then a way to release all his pent-up restlessness and let off some steam.
The fact that he was beginning to shirk all jutsu in favor of forceful bodily attacks only served to prove this to Itachi.
The stoic man watched silently from the shade of a tree, almost amused as his partner swung, punched, and kicked at nothing; Itachi's bunshin stood stock still in the middle of the field, allowing the genjutsu to play out.
A triumphant smirk broke out on the ex-swordsman's face as he swung Samehada in what appeared to him to be a direct hit. Even from across the field, Itachi could hear the frustrated growl the man let out next as the downed image of Itachi evaporated into dozens of flapping ravens.
"Damn it." The large man grumbled as he regained his grip on his blade and turned to the bunshin still standing in the middle of the field. "I thought we agreed on no genjutsu?"
His response was the sharp tip of a kunai resting just between two lumbar vertebrae.
"I found it unnecessary to use the energy required for taijutsu in this spar."
As he returned his kunai to its rightful place and his bunshin disappeared in a cloud of smoke, he heard Kisame mumble a response. Something akin to "lazy bastard", if he had to interpret it.
"Besides, you obviously need more practice against genjutsu- it should not take a man of your caliber so long to realize he was ensnared in an illusion."
"That's because I trusted you wouldn't use it, like you had said." Kisame gave a toothy smirk. "Taking you at your word was my mistake, I suppose."
The black haired man gave his partner a sidelong glance to ascertain his facetious tone.
"Nevertheless, you should be more attentive to your surroundings."
Kisame merely nodded his head in confirmation as the two headed out of their temporary training ground and back to the hotel they had booked for the night.
Just as the pair had almost reached the rather run-down inn, Itachi broke their momentary silence.
"You should probably do something about that, first."
Confused, Kisame followed the direction of the younger man's crimson eyes, and saw that they led to an equally crimson stain soaking the front of his cloak.
"Ah, shit. I forgot about that." The man quickly patted his body down in search of bandages, and when it proved futile, his eyes lingered on a small supplied shop just across the dirt road.
Glancing quickly at his partner, he saw that the Uchiha was already making his way to a nearby dango shop to wait for him. Kisame let out a dark chuckle; he never would have guessed a man as ruthless as Itachi would enjoy something as simple and sweet as dango.
But then again, the man seemed full of contradictions.
He was known for slaughtering his entire clan without blinking an eye, and yet throughout their entire partnership, Kisame had yet to see Itachi mercilessly kill anyone unless there was no way around it. And Itachi was very good at finding a way around things.
He claimed to have severed all ties to Konoha, but whenever the two of them happened to be in the heart of Fire Country, Kisame would catch small glimpses of the younger man staring in the direction of his old home village. If he didn't know any better, he would even label such instances as longingly.
The shark-like man could freely admit to himself that he didn't understand his young partner in the least, and probably never would.
When Kisame joined Itachi in the small dango stand with his newly purchased bandages, he found that the man hadn't even touched the colorful treats set before him yet; instead, his attention seemed to be fixated on a rather large black feather laying intrusively on their table.
The ex-mist nin looked from the obsidian feather to his partner, and back; for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what was so damn interesting about the thing.
"That's a… uh… crow's feather, isn't it?" He asked nonchalantly as shifted out of his cloak and began to wind the bandages around his chest.
"…Raven."
Beady eyes flicked up in slight interest at the fact that his partner had deemed the subject worthy enough to correct him, before shifting his eyes back down to his wrappings to continue. "Er… right. Ah, that reminds me- you often use ravens in your genjutsu, don't you?"
"Hn."
"….Why is that, anyway?" It's not that Kisame could say he actually cared, but Itachi's earlier response made him curious to the answer, none-the-less.
Itachi glanced up to see his partner almost completely absorbed in working the bandages across his chest, before allowing his head tip back slightly and his eyes to drift close.
His mind immediately took him to a place he consciously repressed, but which was somehow always able to creep back and haunt him in sleep some nights.
There he found himself looking up at an impossibly big world through the eyes of a helplessly small boy- around the age of four years old- standing in the midst of a hellish reality more reminiscent to that of an appalling nightmare.
Dead bodies. Strewn as far as his wide, disbelieving eyes could see. Most lacked heads, arms, legs- the missing appendages would be impossible to tell apart from the masses of others in which they laid with. All sorts of organs never meant to see the light of day spilled from gaping holes of gnashed and severed abdomens. Intestines were strewn about its body, strangling their owner more often then sitting dormant within their respective vessels like they should have been.
And the blood…
Itachi had never seen the fluid in such abundance before. He was practically swimming in it from where he stood. The grass was definitely greener on the other side.
But these were just glimpses of the chaos that suffocated him with its proximity- it was all he could do to see through the waves and torrents of flapping onyx wings and shimmering obsidian bodies. They swirled around him, their black bodies blocking out what little sun fought through the charcoal grey above with dark feathers coated and polished in the blood of lifeless warriors.
They screeched and squawked in insane glee as they dove down into the sea of the dead; their sharp beaks tore and ripped at already abused flesh. They watched him with eyes as red as the blood dribbling from their grotesque beaks, as if deciding if he would be as tasty as the feast of fallen shinobi before them.
They were countless- infinite- in number. Their masses pulsed and swarmed above him like angry clouds, creating a storm of death and decay; chaos and calamity…
He had never seen death before; that day he had seen far more then any child should ever have to see.
Such a creature could never be associated with anything other then death in his young mind.
xXx
A thirteen-year old Itachi stepped silently into his dark house.
He had just finished his first A-rank mission as an ANBU Captain.
It had been a success. As a matter of fact, it had gone so well that Itachi had been able to bring his team back one week earlier then planned.
This meant his father had not been expecting him, and was in bed sleeping instead of staying up waiting to grill him on how it went- something Itachi was infinitely grateful for at the moment.
He drifted into his room soundlessly, more closely resembling a ghost in contrast to the tired and drained zombie he felt like. He quickly removed his mask first- a cat, the default for anyone who did not specify a certain animal.
Un-strapping the arm guards came next as he padded over to a barren table in the far corner of the room. The shadow of his silhouette caught his exhausted eye, and he found himself staring at the reflection in the mirror in front of him.
The blood (none of which was his) was the first thing to catch his eye (though it in itself did not affect him in any way. He was a shinobi, and blood was an integral part of the role.) His face was devoid of it, thanks to his mask, but a good portion of the front of his uniform was splattered in the crimson substance; it dripped in rivulets down his forearms and across his fingers, before creating a small pool on the wooden floor. His obsidian hair gleamed in the filtering moonlight with it-
… dark feathers coated and polished in the blood of lifeless warriors…
-and Itachi resisted the urge to wipe away the drop of vermillion that escaped a strand of his bangs and began to make a vivid trail of gore across his pale and otherwise clean forehead. It dipped with the curve of his nose, tracing its path just along the tip of his right eye, violently accenting the similarity between its own hue and that of the crimson of his still activated sharingan-
… they watched him with eyes as red as the blood dribbling from their grotesque beaks…
-before continuing down his ashen cheek, its path making it seem more like a tainted tear then the stolen life-fluid of an enemy.
The young captain continued to stare blankly at his reflection, shaken by the similarity his own features seemed to share with that detestable fowl.
But was he really any different? He used a sharp kunai instead of a jagged beak; lethal shuriken in the place of malignant talons. But they shred and tore flesh all the same.
If anything, he was worse then the black bird. A raven simply devoured and disposed of already lifeless bodies; but he… he was the one who produced them- who turned a fully functional and living body into nothing more then an empty and cold shell of what it had been.
Like the raven, his own presence was an omen- a sign of the bloodshed and bedlam to be found…
The next morning, after he and his team had debriefed with the Hokage, Itachi stayed in place as the rest of his comrades trickled out the door behind him.
The Sandaime looked up from a file in front of him, surprised to see his newest and most promising captain still standing before him.
"Ah, Itachi. Was there something else you needed?"
At this the young boy set the mask baring a feline visage down on the sturdy mahogany desk of the Hokage.
"I'd like to request a specification of my ANBU mask, Hokage-sama."
A graying eyebrow rose in interest. "Is that so? And what would you like to change it to, Uchiha-san?"
"…a raven."
The Sandaime gave him a sagely nod. "Hmm, that's a good choice. Very suiting."
Itachi couldn't stop his eyes from widening a fraction of an inch in barely constrained alarm. He knew he was deserving of baring the bird's atrocious visage, but he hadn't expected the Hokage to think such of him as well…
Despite how brief the look of horror that flitted across the boy's face, the old man gave an amused chuckle.
"You know, Itachi, contrary to popular belief, the raven has been seen to represent knowledge and a great deal of clear-sightedness- good traits for an ANBU Captain to possess, wouldn't you agree?"
The younger man was silent; his dark eyes watched the renowned warrior before him, searching closely for any trace of deceit. Itachi had no idea why he felt the pull of mistrust; the older man had never been anything other then purely honest with him before.
It just seemed too far-fetched for such a dark bird to possess said hidden good qualities.
A small smile tinged with a bit of sadness made its way onto the Sandaime's face. "If you honestly thought anything less of yourself, Itachi, I have to say- you're selling yourself short."
xXx
It was only a week until Itachi was handed another high ranked mission for him and his squad to carry out. Itachi decided to set the departure time for later so all members of the squad could have dinner with their families before leaving. After all, no matter how good a shinobi was considered to be, there would always be the chance that they may not make it back.
When he joined his own family at the table, he was already dressed in his uniform; his ninjato rested beside the porcelain raven mask on the small wooden table just by the door.
The idle chatter was kept to a minimum that night. Itachi guessed it might be nervousness of his leave on his mother and little brother's part. As for his father- well, he had fully expected the man to comment on some aspect of his mission- or at least, his position as captain- as he had been since Itachi had received the title. However, the solemn man was silent, and didn't make eye contact with anyone else at the table.
When dinner was over, Sasuke gave his brother a quick hug for good luck, and then ran outside to practice his throwing shuriken so he could be 'the best' like his nii-san. Mikoto quickly called after him, reminding him he only had about another hour before dark.
As Itachi began to collect the dishes from the table, his father rose and threw one surreptitious glance at the table where Itachi's mask lay before quickly dismissing himself from the room.
The Uchiha prodigy watched his father's retreating back as he tried to decipher the man's behavior. If Itachi was reading his father right (which was a given; he was excellent at reading people), then the man apparently didn't approve of something.
And if Itachi had to guess, he would say Fugaku's lack of approval had something to do with his ANBU mask.
Mikoto only confirmed this when Itachi went to join her at the sink to deposit his armful of dirty dishes.
"It's nothing against you, dear. He just can't understand your choice in animal."
"Hn." Was the boy's response as he picked up an extra cloth and plunged a dirty plate into the mass of bubbles swarming in the sink.
Mikoto, in turn, gave her son a sheepish smile before continuing. "He sees a raven as an ill omen, and can't figure out why his son- the hope of the clan- would wish to bring such a thing upon his family."
Ah. So that was it. Itachi believed the bird to represent death, but he had meant for it to be directed towards the enemy. An ill omen, however, is felt by those tainted by its presence, and he could see why such a thought would not sit well with his father.
He hadn't thought of the creature in that way. Though… with what he had heard at the last clan meeting, he was beginning to feel as if there were anything ill to befall of the clan, it would be there own doing, not his.
But perhaps his father's interpretation was more fitting then he realized…
"He's a bit narrow-minded in that aspect though- your father is." Mikoto stopped her scrubbing to gaze out the small kitchen window before them. Itachi followed his mother's gaze to see a small round bird sitting on a branch in the tree. It wasn't a raven by any means- just an ordinary sparrow. However, he supposed the mere presence of a bird was all his mother needed to get her thoughts across, and so he continued to watch it none-the-less.
"It's true that its role as a carrion links it to the idea of death, but if you watch closely, you would find that ravens have a tendency to defend and feed their older and weaker relatives."
Itachi's brow furrowed momentarily at the new information.
What was this…? Another little known positive trait revealed about an otherwise dark and ominous bird?
He was beginning to believe that people were making things up if only to keep their star shinobi in the spotlight.
Then again, if that were the case, Itachi figured his father would have been among the first to attempt to redeem his son in the eyes of others, as well as his own.
"In this regard, I think it was a very good choice for you. In the end, it will be you who defends the pride and honor of the family. And you definitely have a protective streak when it comes to Sasuke." Her small laugh was like the tinkering of bells, and Itachi's mouth quirked in a tiny smile of admittance.
xXx
If the young captain had known the countenance of his choice in mask would create such a high level of question and controversy, he may have re-thought changing it in the first place.
As it was, it seemed to be the topic of discussion even amongst his own team.
It was as well known fact that Itachi was not a man to do things without reason, and his comrades were determined to figure out exactly what this small move signified.
It had been more or less silent at the beginning of their journey- due primarily to pre-mission jitters- but as the mission progressed and was later declared a success, the travel home was considerably less then quiet.
Itachi gave an inaudible sigh behind his mask as he tuned in and out of the heated debate centered on him as it unfolded just a few feet behind him as if he were not there.
From what he could tell, the main argument centered around the theory that he chose a raven because he was so much like it; a plausible idea, as that was what most did. And they were right despite the fact that they gave entirely different comparisons of their likeness then Itachi's own initial idea.
He listened as one man- Taadaki, judging by the low tenor voice- insisted that it was because the Uchiha prodigy was crafty and intimidating like the black bird. Shisui quickly dismissed that theory, claiming whatever the reason, Itachi wouldn't pick a raven to highlight his good qualities like some power-tripping macho would (and at this, the lighthearted Uchiha gave the other man a playful shove before shooting him an accusing smirk). He expanded on this idea, saying that Itachi would pick something that represented him, but not necessarily in a good way. He provided the example of solitude and self-isolation as traits they both shared that Itachi would be willing to be associated with.
Kiyoshi- usually the most withdrawn of the three- piped up next, suggesting that perhaps it was their captain's dark sense of elegance and lethal grace that he shared with the bird. Shisui was quick to debunk this one as well.
"My god, Kiyoshi-"a quick chuckle- "you're not actually comparing Itachi to some deranged ballerina, are you?" At this Taadaki joined Shisui in his laughter, before the two of them continued to facetiously expand on the ridiculous notion.
Meanwhile, Itachi was desperately trying to suppress rolling his eyes.
Did they believe him to be deaf?
After a while, thankfully, all conversation ceased as his team mates decided the energy was needed just to keep up with their captain's inhuman pace (which could be contributed to the fact that he was subconsciously trying to put as much distance between himself and the comrades who had dared to mention the word 'tutu' in the same sentence as his name).
Despite the relief he felt at the newfound silence, Itachi also realized the reason, and figured that he may be driving them a bit too hard considering the fierce battle they had fought in the early hours of the morning, as well as the fact that it was now pushing late evening.
The raven haired shinobi dropped down from his trail through the thick foliage of fire country to the shady forest floor, his team following suit.
"Take a 10 minute break for chakra restoration."
A full day of non-stop travel was a bit excessive even for him, and seeing how the mission had gone off without a hitch and they had- once again- completed it earlier then expected, Itachi figured they deserved at least that.
While his fellow masked shinobi took out their canteens or slumped against a tree trunk, Itachi shot off into the trees once more for a quick check of the premises.
The presence of a familiar chakra signature alerted him to the fact that he had been followed, and he quickly stopped on the nearest thick tree branch to give the man a chance to catch up.
Despite the mask, Itachi recognized the deep maroon coloring of hair to belong to his favorite cousin and self-proclaimed best friend.
"You're not running away from us, are you?" Shisui asked casually, one hand one his hip and the other raised with one finger up in a playfully accusing manner.
Itachi quirked a half-amused eyebrow- not that the other man could see it- and simply sat down on the thick tree branch as an answer.
Shisui crouched to join him.
"You know we were just kidding back there, right?"
"Hn."
"You don't have to worry; nobody truly thinks you're a gothic version of a beautiful ballerina." He chuckled at his own little joke. Itachi stayed silent.
Shisui cast a side-long glance at his young friend, vaguely wondering if they had somehow offended him. He doubted it, as Itachi was never one to take things personally- or at all even. He would sooner turn his back in pure nonchalance then force-feed someone's own words back to them.
The shinobi of the mirage decided to play it safe, regardless.
"I honestly don't know a lot about ravens, but you apparently see something in them that you have found in yourself. So because of my lack of knowledge in the bird department, I would have to base my theories off of what I've seen of you and apply it to the raven. In that case," –here he paused to lightly finger the torn and bloodied fabric of the part of the ANBU vest just below Itachi's ribs- "from the way you dove into the path of those kunai just to watch my unsuspecting back, I'd have to say ravens must be pretty damn vigilant and watchful of their companions."
"That's not the way it works, Shisui." Itachi quickly lowered his arm to block his friend's access and keep him from worrying over the minor flesh wound.
"I also have the deductive capabilities necessary to analyze any situation in order to plan a countermeasure for any possible course of action, if needed. That doesn't mean a bird is capable of doing that as well."
"….You have deductive capabilities? Coulda fooled me."
Itachi raised his head and exhaled sharply, earning a hearty laugh from Shisui at the expense of his apparent frustration.
"Haha, come on, Captain. If we give those lazy jerks any more leisure time, they're likely to fall asleep on us." At this, Itachi took his friends outstretched hand, and the two made their way back to the rest of the team.
xXx
So many different ways such a bird could be interpreted; it was hard to find one solid answer to Kisame's question. True, Itachi's original intent was to construe the death that came with his being a shinobi.
But so much had happened since then.
Knowledge and clear sightedness- the Sandaime's interpretation- fit him so much more then it did before. After all, he was one of five people left alive in the entire world who knew the true reason behind the Uchiha massacre, as well as the events leading up to the fateful night. He was also one of the few who knew of Madara's presence in the current age, as well as the clan founder's role in the whole debacle.
His teammates were right in their own regard- one would have to contain a certain level of craftiness in order to pull a blanket of carefully placed illusions showing villainous and selfish intent over the eyes of their own village, as well as every country in the known world. Because of these delicately construed lies, Itachi had become quite the intimidating figure, even amongst other shinobi of extraordinary talent.
The circumstances leading up to that had forced him to become withdrawn and voluntarily isolated- if not to keep any of the truth from slipping, then simply to keep his sanity intact.
His father had been right when it came to him being an ill omen to the clan. It was obvious enough how that had played out. But his mother, too, had been right. He did have a strong sense of duty and affection for his family. Though this had not saved the rest of the clan, it had saved the youngest of his immediate family. Itachi had practically begged on hands and knees for the Hokage to watch over and protect Sasuke when the double agent had found he could not kill his innocent brother. His affection had brought him back to Konoha five years later just to warn the council elders and Danzou with his mere presence that despite the death of the Sandaime, Itachi was still alive and kicking, and it would be prudent for them to continue keeping Sasuke safe.
It was his affection for Sasuke that made it easy to let go of his own image and reputation- to become the bad guy to his beloved village, and to- ultimately- die at the hands of his little brother so Sasuke could be seen as the hero of the story.
When he thought about it, the death that the raven represented to him was no longer that of enemies, but his own.
A breeze picked up and swept the silky obsidian feather off the hard wooden table and into the air; Itachi's vermillion eyes watched passively at its leave.
"The raven is a tragically misunderstood creature- an enigma in its own right."