Emulation of Apathy

Chapter XIV

"Time Killer"

…

Well, it seemed there really was no end to their nonsensicality. Since the onset of spring, the simply ingenious medic had taken to insisting they all go for a walk, as it was, after all, beneficial to one's health to get fresh air from time to time. And, as seemed to be custom, the Sannin would always agree. Every week, in fact. Every damn Sunday. And, as always, Orochimaru insisted that his pupil accompany them.

And so, once again, Sasuke found himself in their presence, because, once again, Kabuto had urged them to take a walk, and, once again, Orochimaru had forced him to join them. So, once again, the three shinobi trudged uselessly through a wide, open field at a leisurely pace. For no reason. Whatsoever.

It was the second week of May. They had returned to the hideout Kabuto had initially chosen, the location in the forest with the exceptional training facility. The one to which Sasuke had come to refer as the bunker. The one in which the young Uchiha had first reached the conclusion that these two were, in fact, quite insane and complete idiots.

Two years and five months.

He had begun to keep track of his time with them. More specifically, how much time he had left with them. He could not afford for any surprises, and he was determined to make use of every minute spent under the Sannin's tutelage. Which made these ridiculous outings that much more obnoxious. But, there really was nothing he could do about it, since there was not much he could do on his own just yet, and Orochimaru was determined to give in to almost every whim that idiot could concoct. He could not even force stamina training out of this absurd endeavor, something he had come to realize after the first few walks. Kabuto's scolding really was not worth the effort.

Therefore, he walked along beside the morons, refusing to join their conversation, his expression dull, and his dark gaze focused on no point in particular in the expanse of field before him.

"Orochimaru-sama," the idiot Genin was, as usual, speaking to his master, and, as was so often the case, the Snake Master turned his attention on his medic with a genuinely interested expression. "I do believe I have decided. Spring is my favorite season."

"Is that so?" Orochimaru inquired. "And what has spurred this conclusion of yours?"

"Well, you see, it is, by far, the most pleasant time of year," Kabuto began, seemingly pleased that the man had decided to question him on the matter. "The colors are all so vibrant. And it is the best time for harvesting, all the plants are primed and ready for me. Life is in the air, especially new life. Meaning," here, the sadist humored a rather twisted smile, as he said, "new specimens are emerging each day. The little ones are, after all, the easiest to catch."

"Kabuto, always so practical," the Sannin chuckled, and both he and his imbecilic assistant began laughing at this train of thought.

Bastards. Idiotic bastards. There really was no limit to their antics, was there?

After a time, their humor in Kabuto's answer had past, and the Genin pushed his glasses up the brim of his nose and asked, "And what is your favorite season, Orochimaru-sama?"

"Autumn," the Sannin replied, and Sasuke could already feel himself scowling at the creep's response.

As expected, Kabuto followed his question with another. "And why is that?"

"First and foremost, my birthday falls in that season, and I have always liked my birthday," Orochimaru replied, his sharp teeth protruding amidst his grin. "For another, I do like the chill in the air. But, as should always be the case, it is controlled. Not too cold, but cold enough. Finally, I have always liked it for the simple reason of what it symbolizes."

"Oh?" the medic-nin awarded his master a curious look. "And what is that, Orochimaru-sama?"

"The last glimmer of hope before all fades into winter," the older shinobi replied. "In other words, the hope before desolation. It stands on the brink, as the final stage, before utter despair. In a way, it stands before death itself. After all, winter has always symbolized death."

"Ah, yes," Kabuto mused, a subtle smile forming at the corner of his mouth. "And, of course, it has always been your quest to conquer death. In a way, autumn is much like you, Orochimaru-sama."

"Insightful as always, Kabuto," the Sannin offered his usual compliment.

The Uchiha rolled his eyes at the pair of them. Conquer death? Such an absurd notion. No one could possibly conquer death. It was an inevitable entity. The only thing a person could control was when and how. But then again, even that was questionable, as there so often emerged circumstances which robbed even that from the individual.

And that moron was not insightful.

"Sasuke-kun."

The boy held back the sigh forming in his throat at the Genin's prying tone. As always, they had decided to turn the question on him. Could they be any more predictable? No matter, he had decided to ignore them, and he therefore did not avert his gaze.

"Sasuke-kun," Orochimaru now took it upon himself to question him, and, without awaiting any reaction, asked, "do you have a season of preference?"

"Winter," Sasuke answered tonelessly.

"Ohh," Kabuto remarked, clearly amused by his response, and he glanced meaningfully in his master's direction. "The season of death. How…ironic." He inserted a pause, clearly intending to gauge his reaction, but he received none. Therefore, he asked, "Any particular reason?"

"No," the Uchiha replied.

"Why must you always lie to us?" the Genin tsked the boy with a slight shake of his head. "There is obviously a reason. In fact, I daresay everyone has a reason for everything, in which case-"

"Shut the hell up," Sasuke finally turned his onyx gaze from the horizon to fix a glare on the moronic bastard.

"Kabuto," Orochimaru now turned his snake eyes on the younger man beside him, "that is enough. If Sasuke-kun does not wish to share his reasons with us, that is his prerogative. Some people need their secrets. Now, enough of your prying."

Immediately lowering his head, Kabuto mumbled, "Yes, Orochimaru-sama."

The Sannin nodded his head in approval, and, in spite of himself, Sasuke had to fight a smirk. There was always something so satisfying about watching Orochimaru denounce Kabuto when his antics went a little far. The idiot somehow managed to annoy everyone. It must be a talent.

In a matter of minutes, the two had divulged in some new topic of conversation, and Sasuke turned to face away from them once more.

His gaze wandered over the field, over the veins of grass swaying gently in the breeze, the line of trees encircling the area, trying his best to drown the chatter in his ear, but it was incessant. He extended his hand away from his side, only a fraction, and spread his fingers, running them through the tall blades, and he pressed his eyes shut. He could feel his mind beginning to wander, could hear their voices slowly dying, and he clenched his hand, ripping a fistful of grass away from the ground in attempt to force those damn reminiscences back.

Their voices grew clearer, but only for a moment. Almost immediately, they had faded again and, as was so often the case, they were replaced by voices from his past…

…

A child walked along a quiet street. To his right, an older boy stood beside him, and on that boy's opposite side, a man traveled with them as well, his arms crossed in front of him. It was a bright afternoon, a spring afternoon, and a gentle breeze rustled the flowers in the passing window sills.

Sasuke glanced up at his older brother, an easy smile in place. Itachi had been assigned a mission, one through ANBU, and he had agreed to let his little brother accompany him to the edge of town. Of course, their father had insisted on joining them as well. He often did. After all, Fugaku always took a keen interested in everything his eldest son did.

They had been walking together in silence for a fair amount of time. He was not quite sure what it was about their father, but, for some reason, Itachi was always much quieter when that man was around. The boy's black eyes wandered from one to the other, silently taking in their expressions, and he noted that, as usual, their dad was wearing a frown, though his expression was otherwise filled with pride. His brother, on the other hand, had adopted that distant look in his eyes.

At this, the young Uchiha titled his head to one side. "Nii-san?"

His expression almost immediately softening, Itachi turned his gaze to rest on his little brother, and he asked, "Yes?"

With the lack of strain on the older boy's demeanor, however, Sasuke only smiled in response. "Hi."

Itachi released a slight chuckle, but he nevertheless nodded his head, "Hello, Sasuke."

"Is that all you had to say?" Fugaku's scolding voice sounded, and his younger son ducked his head. "If you don't have anything important to say, I suggest you don't break your brother's concentration. He has a very important mission today, one even I, his father, am not privy to."

"Okay," Sasuke mumbled, his lower lip jutting out in a pout.

A slight pause fell afterwards, but this time, Itachi took it upon himself to break the silence. "Sasuke," he addressed his younger brother, "how are your studies going?"

The boy lifted his dark eyes, glancing first at his father, but he found Fugaku had turned his attention away from him. A frown forming, he faced Itachi and replied, "I have the highest marks in every subject."

"That's excellent," his brother nodded, an encouraging smile in place.

Sasuke managed a small smile in turn, watching the older boy's expression carefully. His father had said he needed to only speak if it was important, so as to not distract his brother from the mission, but it seemed like Itachi welcomed the digression. But then, perhaps his father was right. Perhaps Itachi did need to focus, and Sasuke was being a nuisance. Perhaps that was why Fugaku always refused to let him tag along. But, if that was the case, why did Itachi's expression seem so much lighter any time they weren't talking about his missions?

"Is Shisui-san going on this mission, too?" the child asked.

"What did I just tell you?" his father shook his head at him. "Even I, his father, am not aware of the details. It is a top secret mission, an important one for the village, and you must not question your brother on the matter. ANBU is very strict, secretive, albeit efficient."

The young Uchiha nodded his head, but his eyes were fixed on his brother. As predicted, the expression on the older boy's countenance had fallen, the smile disappearing the moment his father had begun speaking of the mission, and, the more Fugaku had said, the more distant that look in Itachi's eyes grew.

It was decided. A distraction was best.

"Nii-san," Sasuke began, and he watched as Itachi's focus returned to the present moment. "The other day, some weird blond kid at the Academy lunged at me during practice."

"Oh?" Itachi arched a curious brow at this. "That's certainly odd. Why did he do that?"

"I'm not sure," his brother replied with a slight shake of his head. "I think he might have been doing it for attention. He's always really loud in class. He was awful at Clone Jutsu, though."

"Is he?" the older Uchiha asked. "That's unfortunate. Though, I'm sure he'll learn in time, if he applies himself."

"Hm," Sasuke shrugged his shoulders. He was not entirely sure what was the matter with the kid in question, but he seemed to have formed some sort of personal vendetta against him. And he seemed kind of like an idiot. Then again, Itachi was always right about people. Perhaps he would learn, in time.

At that moment, however, they were passing a flower shop, and he spotted another classmate. A particularly annoying classmate, at that, and she was giving him that weird look she always adopted whenever he was in the vicinity. She was always prying, and she had such an obnoxious voice. If he remembered correctly, her name was Ino. He found himself unable to fight the frown.

"What is it, Sasuke?" Itachi stared down at his younger brother in confusion, following his line of sight to the girl outside the flower shop.

"Sasuke-kun!" Ino shrieked, and she waved her hand vigorously at him.

The boy dropped his gaze to the ground, and, once he was certain they were out of earshot, he mumbled in response, "I hate her."

Fugaku immediately turned his harsh stare on his son, and he scolded, "You do not hate her. You have a strong dislike for her." Resting his gaze on the blonde girl, he then proceeded to shake his head, "Do you even know her?"

"I do know her, and I hate her," Sasuke's lip jutted out in a pout.

His father's eyes widened at this, and he snapped, "Excuse me?! Are you talking back to me?!"

The young Uchiha quickly ducked his head, deciding not to say any more on the matter. His dad could say what he wanted, but Ino was definitely one of the most annoying girls he had ever met. And he was pretty sure she was the one who had stolen his pencil.

From then on, the three traveled in silence. Not another word was spoken until they came to a stop at the gateway to Konoha, and it was there that Fugaku took it upon himself to congratulate his oldest son, express how proud he was and wish him the best on this mission. The young Uchiha watched the exchange in continued silence, but he took care to make note of his older brother's expression. And as before, Itachi was faraway.

"You are my son, indeed," their father was currently saying as he gave Itachi a firm nod of his head. "You are the pride of our clan. I have no doubt of your success."

With that, Fugaku turned and began to walk back the way they had come. Sasuke furrowed his brow in perplexity, about to hurry after him, but, after glancing over at his older brother and, once again, noting that look in his eyes, the boy decided he could catch up to his father.

"Nii-san."

His brother glanced over at him, "Yes, Sasuke?"

He did not want to mention the mission. Something was off. Every time the subject was raised, Itachi changed, his mind would wander from this world, and Sasuke did not like it. Even wishing him well might send him away again. Therefore, he decided to take a different approach.

"When you get back," Sasuke gave him a pointed look, "you should wake me up, and we can drink jasmine tea together."

"Aa," Itachi's smile returned, and he lifted his hand to poke the boy gently on the forehead. "I will."

…

The Uchiha shook his head. He was tired of zoning out, of falling back and forth between the present, spent with these idiots, and those damnable memories. There was nothing worth falling back to, remembering, and nothing worth returning to afterwards. After all, he was tired of Kabuto. He was tired of taking these damn walks. They were completely pointless. He was tired of these stupid antics he had to put up with if he wanted to get any proper training. None of it was worth his time, and he was tired of it. He came here to train, to surpass Itachi. Nothing else mattered.

Sasuke held back the frustrated sigh, swinging his fist against blades of grass and forcing his eyes open. He immediately focused his attention on the pair beside him, but, as he did so, his dark eyes widened in surprise. There was a white rabbit in their path. Not a moment ago, it had been hopping along, casually minding its own business. However, Kabuto had stepped forward and slammed his foot against the animal, kicking it several feet in the air and sending it flying backward.

"Excellent kick, Kabuto," Orochimaru remarked with a nod of approval.

What the hell was the matter with these idiots? Oh, hell! Why was he still asking that question? At this point, he really should not be surprised by anything anymore.

"Thank you, Orochimaru-sama," the moron turned his self-satisfied smile on his master, as he pushed his glasses up the brim of his nose. Focusing his eyes on Sasuke, his smile turned vindictive, and he stated, "I have been practicing."

"Have you?" the Sannin glanced from his medic to the Uchiha, and his eyes narrowed. "Kabuto…what do I keep telling you about that?"

"Telling me?" the idiot blinked twice, putting on his best attempt at an innocent expression. "Why, nothing."

"I am not in the mood to repeat myself," Orochimaru informed his subordinate, his tone one of obvious dissatisfaction, and it was enough to wipe that stupid expression off Kabuto's face. "Now, you would do well to remember that."

"Ahem," the Genin gave a slight inclination of his head, "yes, Orochimaru-sama."

When the Sannin had averted his attention, Kabuto immediately shot a dark look in Sasuke's direction, and the Uchiha found himself shaking his head at the imbecile. Such a spiteful little idiot. Recently, he had taken to sending a kick his way and flicking him off every chance he got. Every time he thought his beloved master was not looking. It was actually rather pathetic. Oh well, though. Kabuto was not about to change his ways, no matter what anyone told him, and, if he insisted on being a pathetic little piece of shit, that was none of Sasuke's concern.

His eyes wandered from the morons, back to the field, and he had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. What was so damn terrific about spring, anyway? It was bright and loud and populated and obnoxious. It marked the onset of summer, which was even brighter, and accompanied by an insufferable heat. And, of course, spring was the death of winter. A beautiful, silver landscape would vanish, melting into those pesky hues of green, and that quiet stillness would shatter with the explosion of excited voices and chirping birds.

But then, it was very fitting for Kabuto. That idiot shattered every silence. In fact, it was practically impossible for anyone to remain calm around him. And, of course, he was very vibrant. And obnoxious. Yes, definitely fitting for that moron. In fact, there was no season that served as a better representation of him.

"Orochimaru-sama! Not that way!"

The Uchiha's dark gaze snapped back to the idiot beside him, and he found that the Genin was wearing a particularly distressed expression. He was trying to urge Orochimaru from taking a turn in the field, away from a patch of flowers, and both Sasuke and the Sannin glanced over at Kabuto in confusion.

"Why ever not, Kabuto?" Orochimaru questioned.

"Well, you see," Kabuto began matter-of-factly, "it is quite dangerous."

"Dangerous?" the Snake Master glanced from his subordinate to the flowers. "And why is that?"

"Observe," the idiot instructed, extending a finger and pointing at the various blossoms. "Do you see those objects flying around? The yellow and black ones? They are bees, Orochimaru-sama."

"I can see that, Kabuto," Orochimaru gave a slight nod of his head. "What is the problem?"

"Bees have stingers," the Genin stated, as if it was obvious. And, as if that was all the explanation needed.

"Stingers can be avoided," his master returned, though an amused smile had overtaken his countenance as he stared at his idiotic assistant.

"Yes, but, as the medic, I do believe it would be best not to risk such an encounter," Kabuto gave a decisive nod of his head.

"Kabuto," Sasuke was now giving the idiot a curious look. Suddenly, his interruption in the training room back in February was beginning to make more sense. "Do you have a pathological fear of bees?"

Turning his stare on the Uchiha, the medic-nin released a nervous laugh, and he shook his head at the boy. "Sasuke-kun, do not be absurd," Kabuto raised his middle finger to push his glasses up the brim of his nose. "Of course not. I am merely looking out for everyone's health. After all, that is my job. And bees are quite poisonous. Have you ever considered what would happen if you had an allergic reaction to the venom?"

Sasuke could not fight the smirk. "Are you allergic to bees?"

"This is not about me," Kabuto insisted.

"That's weird," the Uchiha mused, his tone sarcastic. "I thought everything was about you."

The idiot awarded him a dumbfounded scoff, his eyes wide in disbelief and his mouth agape. "Sasuke-kun!" he exclaimed, before taking a moment to compose himself. "Ahem. That is simply not true."

"Really?" Sasuke arched a brow at him. "I think it is. At least, as far as you're concerned."

"Oh, now you're just being ridiculous," Kabuto waved him off with a brush of his hand. "Can you not see that my entire life is devoted to Orochimaru-sama?"

"Hm," the shinobi glanced from the idiot to his master, who he found, once again, watching their exchange in amusement. Perhaps Kabuto had a point, but then, even so… "You demand your master's attention every chance you get. And, when you don't get it, you walk off and sulk."

That moron scoffed once more, taking obvious offense. "I do not sulk."

"Yes, you do, Kabuto," Orochimaru said simply. "Now, come. We're going this way."

With that, the Snake Master turned from the patch of flowers and began to walk in the opposite direction. It took a moment for his medic-nin to recover, but when he did, he hurried after the Sannin, his stupid messy ponytail blowing in the wind. Oh, lord, he was such a moron.

Sasuke stared after them in silence a moment, before shaking his head back and forth. "Orochimaru," he addressed the older shinobi.

The snake bastard turned to glance over his shoulder, "Yes, Sasuke-kun?"

"I'm going back," the Uchiha informed him in a dry tone.

"What?" Kabuto spun around instantly, placing a hand on his hip. "Sasuke-kun, how many times must I tell you that being outdoors is excellent for the lungs, and a bit of fresh air-"

"I don't give a damn," Sasuke cut him off.

He did not wait for a response from either of them. He proceeded to simply turn his back to the imbeciles and make his way back the way they had come, back across the field. When no further attempt was made to stop him, he had to hold back a scoff. For some reason, he kept forgetting how easy it was to ignore their instructions. Though the reason he was allowed so much freedom was unnerving, it did prove convenient at times such as this. In the back of his mind, he wondered if Orochimaru was giving him that creepy stare as he walked away.

"Orochimaru-sama," he heard Kabuto's voice growing more and more distant. "Did you know today is Mother's Day?"

"Is it, really?" the Sannin's muffled voice returned. "You remember everything, don't you, Kabuto?"

Sasuke held back the sigh, increasing his distance from the pair of morons until their voices had disappeared altogether. His stare fell to the ground, but he furrowed his brow when he noticed a shadow overhead. It was growing larger, until, suddenly, Kabuto fell to the ground in front of him.

"Sasuke-kun," the man straightened himself and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "What was your mother like?"

What the hell? Sasuke's eyes narrowed into a glare, and he promptly turned his back to that idiot, only to find that Orochimaru was standing directly behind him. His eyes were widened with that usual fascination, and his long tongue was protruding from his mouth.

"Answer Kabuto's question, Sasuke-kun," the Snake Master insisted.

The Uchiha glanced from one to the other, a scowl overtaking his countenance. Perhaps getting away from them was not quite as easy as he had thought.

"No," he said simply.

"You're always such a rude young man," Kabuto shook his head at the boy. "We're quite curious, you see, as I never knew my real mother, and Orochimaru-sama's parents were both killed at an early age. How old were you, Orochimaru-sama?"

"It was so long ago, I do find I have trouble remembering," the Sannin replied. "Perhaps it was five?"

"Five," his idiot medic nodded, before returning his attention to Sasuke. "So, as you can see, we have very little understanding of what precisely a mother is."

Sasuke clenched his hand at his side. "My mother was killed, too. Why the hell would you ask me?"

"Oh, that's right," Kabuto's mouth turned in a pleasant smile. "I suppose it must have slipped my mind."

In an instant, Sasuke's fist slammed against his nose, and that four-eyed bastard fell over, cradling his face in his hand. Orochimaru, who was looking on with his usual amusement, lifted his eyes from the medic to the glowering boy in front of him. He lifted a hand and rested it on his shoulder.

"Sasuke-kun," the Sannin gave him a pointed look, "that's something we have in common. We share the same loss."

"Shut-up!" Sasuke snapped, pulling his arm out of that bastard's clutches. "I don't share a damn thing with you!"

"Oh, but you do," Orochimaru kept the same amused smile. "In fact, the number of similarities between the two of us continues to astound me the more I consider it. We are both orphans, we both turned on our best friends and abandoned Konoha, and we would both use any means necessary to achieve our goals. We're practically the same."

"We are not the same," the Uchiha stepped past Kabuto and walked away from those idiots. "I am nothing like you."

Orochimaru was a despicable, sadistic moron. He was insane. A horrible excuse for a human being. He experimented on people, and took whatever the hell he wanted. How dare he compare himself to Sasuke. He knew nothing about him. And how dare Kabuto try to question him about his mother. Who the hell did he think he was?

The boy left the field behind him, stepping into the dark forest and making his way back to this hideout's ridiculous entrance.

"What was your mother like?"

Sasuke shook his head, forcing that absurd voice out of his thoughts. He was tired of listening to him. Tired of hearing that same, damnable tone every day. But it was relentless. It was imposing upon his consciousness. Even in his mind, Kabuto was an obnoxious, prying bastard.

"Today is Mother's Day."

He heaved a sigh, pressing his eyes shut, but that voice would not go away. And neither would the words that moron had spoken…

…

"Sasuke?"

A pair of large black eyes shot up at the sound of his name, and the child hastened to the kitchen towel he had neglected earlier. From head to toe, he was covered in flour, but it was not his fault it had flown everywhere when he had opened the bag. And he had tried to catch the eggs before they splattered against the floor, but they had fallen so fast. He even tried to wipe up the sugar, but it had gotten rather sticky within the time he had neglected it.

And, in spite of everything, the batter still didn't look right. He was not willing to try it, to determine if it tasted right. He hated sweets. But, from what he could see, something was off. He had spent the entire morning in the kitchen, but nothing was turning out right. It had even been the simplest recipe in the book.

"Nii-san," Sasuke mumbled, his eyes fixed on the floor and his lip jutting out in a pout, "I hate cake."

He heard his brother sigh, before crossing the kitchen to stand by his side. "Why were you trying to make a cake?"

"For Mother's Day," the boy replied as his gaze wandered over the mess he had made. "I thought Kaa-san would like it. I wanted it to be a surprise. But it's too hard, Nii-san."

Itachi took the towel from him and proceeded to wipe the powder out of his little brother's hair, before glancing around the kitchen as well. He remained silent for a moment, and Sasuke again dropped his eyes to the floor in shame. He had made a mess, and now he was going to be in trouble. And his mother would not get a cake.

"Perhaps," the older Uchiha began, "it would be easier if we made it together."

At this, the child's gaze shot up to his brother, his eyes wide in surprise. "Really?"

"Aa," Itachi nodded his head, a smile forming in the corner of his mouth. "Of course, we should clean up first, that way Tou-san won't be upset."

"I tried, but…," Sasuke pointed at the sugar, which seemed determined to stay on the floor, "it won't come off." He stared down at the detestable substance in silence a moment, before mumbling, "I hate sugar, Nii-san."

"Oh? That's too bad," his older brother's smile widened. "I find I rather like it."

"I don't," the young Uchiha shook his head. "It tastes bad, and it gets everywhere, and it won't come off."

"I suppose everyone is entitled to their own opinion," Itachi gave a slight nod of his head, before straightening himself once more and walking to the sink. He flicked the faucet on, let the water run over the towel for a moment, before returning to his little brother and handing it to him. "I'll be back in just a moment. I'm going to get another towel."

"Okay, Nii-san," Sasuke replied, and he watched the older boy leave the kitchen.

Turning his attention on the sugar mess, the child narrowed his eyes, wondering if the water on the towel would make that sticky substance more inclined to part with the floor. He tilted his head to one side in curiosity, before deciding to test it. After rubbing the towel against the mess, his eyes widened in astonishment. It had actually worked. He heard footsteps from the hall, and he turned to see his brother returning to the room, and he instantly awarded him a smile.

"Look, Nii-san!" he pointed at the floor. "It worked!"

"Aa, it did, indeed," Itachi nodded in agreement. "Good job, Sasuke."

"How did you know that would work?" his little brother demanded.

"Well, it's quite simple," the older boy gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. "Most of all, it's a matter of mere observation."

"You know everything, don't you, Nii-san?" an excited smile formed on the child's face.

"No, not everything," Itachi shook his head as he knelt down on the floor beside his younger brother. "But you will find that there is quite a bit you can learn through observation alone."

With Itachi's help, the kitchen was clean in no time at all, and Sasuke again found himself squinting at the recipe in his mother's cook book. It was soon decided that Itachi should be in charge of the directions, and the child eagerly raced back and forth, following the instructions his brother would give him. When it came time to put the cake in the oven, Sasuke stared down at the batter in confusion.

"How did it end up looking so different this time?" he asked.

"It was all a matter of the proper order and amount of each ingredient," his older brother held up his forefinger as he explained. "If the correct dosage is not followed, there will either be something lacking, or an overbearing amount of some ingredient. And, if this is the case, the end result with be contrary to the original intent. The same is true for the order, though. If the proper ingredients are not applied in the appropriate order, with the appropriate care and time, the final product will again be contrary to that which you seek."

"Hm…it sounds hard, Nii-san," Sasuke stared at the cake with a pout.

"Aa," Itachi gave a slight nod of his head, but with a gentle smile. "It is. You see, Sasuke, it is much easier to do something wrong than it is to do something right. However, it is because of the challenge, the struggle itself, which makes the end result of the right action so much more commendable. It is the ability to overcome the trial which makes it worthy."

"So…because it's hard…and because you still got it right, even though it was hard, it's even better than it would have been if it was easy," the child reasoned. "So, the struggle makes a difference?"

"It does," his brother replied. "It makes all the difference."

That evening, when they presented the cake to their mother, Mikoto pulled her children into a hug and thanked them for everything. She was radiating with happiness, and there was not a single instance all night that her smile was absent from her expression. Sasuke eagerly pointed out that he had been the one to come up with the idea, and that he had written the message inscribed in the icing. And, of course, that Itachi had helped him.

The cake was cut, and the young Uchiha watched with a slight shake of his head as everyone enjoyed the dessert. How they could even stand the taste, however, was quite a mystery. Glancing over at Itachi, a grin formed on the child's face, and he exchanged a knowing look with his mother.

"Itachi," Mikoto turned to her oldest son with a light laugh.

"Hm?" Itachi glanced up from the cake to award his mother a curious look. He obviously had no idea.

Mikoto grabbed her napkin and leaned across the table to wipe the icing from the corner of her son's mouth, and Itachi proceeded to shake his head, but he wore a smile. It was the same, kind smile that always matched his mother's.

"You're really messy when you eat cake, Nii-san," Sasuke remarked, laughing at his older brother.

"It's because he enjoys it so much," Mikoto explained. She tapped her index finger against Itachi's cheek as she mused, "How you manage it every time, though, has always amazed me."

"Well, Kaa-san," Itachi's smile turned sarcastic, "it's quite simple, really. With talent, and precision."

His mother laughed, proceeding to shake her head at the boy and then returning to her own dessert. Itachi did likewise. Later that night, Itachi walked his little brother to his room, and, as Sasuke crawled into bed, he began to wonder about the events of the day. Especially as they pertained to something his brother had said earlier.

"Nii-san," he stared up at Itachi with curious eyes, "do you think Kaa-san liked her cake?"

"Aa, I believe she did," his brother assured him with a slight nod of his head. "You made her very happy, Sasuke."

"I couldn't have done it if you hadn't helped me, though," the boy pointed out. "Do you think I should have tried to do it myself? Would that have made it better, because it was harder?"

"Sasuke," Itachi shook his head at his little brother. "Of course not. Commendable though a struggle may be, asking for help does not make it any less worthy."

"It doesn't?" Sasuke asked.

"No," the older Uchiha replied. "It doesn't."

"Oh…," the boy's eyes fell, and he considered the matter silently. It made sense. And Itachi was always right, so he must be right about this. With a small smile, Sasuke returned his stare to his brother and told him, "Thank you, Nii-san."

"No need to thank me," his older brother gave a slight shake of his head. "I simply offered my help where it was needed." As he stared down at his little brother, a small smile formed at the corner of Itachi's mouth, and he patted the boy on the head. "You should never hesitate to accept help when it is necessary."

Sasuke beamed up at his brother, "I won't, Nii-san."

"In that case," Itachi's smile widened, "I'll always be here when you need my help."

…

"Bastard…"

Sasuke fell into bed, burying his face in his pillow and gripping tightly at its edges, his hands curled into fists. That lying, heartless bastard. His mother had smiled at him, had wiped icing from his face, icing from a cake he had made for her, and he had smiled back. Hell, he had even joked with her about it. He had made her laugh. How could he kill her? After all of that, how could he raise a katana against his own mother?

Why had he lied to them? It would have been much more merciful if he had just killed them all to begin with. But then, Itachi really did not care for mercy. In fact, he preferred quite the opposite. To build his mother's trust, to convince her that he was the perfect son, to laugh and smile with her, to run errands before she even had a chance to ask, only to turn on her when she least expected it. To silence that kind laugh and wipe that pleasant smile from her face, forever.

Itachi had taken away the one thing a person could control, the one aspect of death which made it more tolerable. When and how. He had placed himself as the bringer of death, taken it in his own hands to determine when his family would die. And by what means.

He had slain his own mother, the woman who had given life to him. Was there even anything more contemptible than that?

And that bastard had the nerve to lecture his little brother on what was right?

Sasuke slammed his fist against his bed, pressing his eyes shut. That bastard deserved to die. He deserved the most painful, excruciating death possible, and he would personally see to it that he got it. Orochimaru needed to stop taking these damn walks with Kabuto, he needed to stop stalling, stop putting off their training for every whim that crossed the idiot's mind. He needed to get his damn act together.

The Uchiha lifted his hand and pounded it against the bed again. And again. And again. He pressed his eyes tighter.

"Bastard," he muttered. "You damn, heartless bastard."

He was not the son his father had been proud of.

Itachi was not the perfect Uchiha, willing to sacrifice himself to protect others, the prodigy Fugaku had always favored, the son who would return successful from every mission and accept his father's praise with practiced silence. Perfectly disciplined, and without a single flaw.

He was not the son his mother had known.

Itachi was not the boy who would always make Mikoto smile, who would joke and laugh with her, even at his own expense, the son who offered a bouquet of flowers for her birthday and her favorite cake on Mother's Day. Gentle and kind, and always prepared to help.

And he was not the brother Sasuke missed so much.