Peripeteia
Snow White, muses Itachi, silently fingering the white roses encircling the boy's head.
Sasuke is beautiful, even in death. His skin, always so unnaturally pale, now devoid of life, is like moonlight upon snow, and almost glows ethereally in the dark room. Dark lashes stay perfectly still, lightly brushing the skin, and equally dark hair frames the perfect face and fans across the cushion of roses. Itachi's eyes are drawn to the pale lips, still tinged the lightest pink—like a child's—and slightly parted, sensual and alluring, although no breath nor warmth escapes them.
Who knew that the Leaf Village put so much care into the inhumation of a shinobi who once betrayed them? Or maybe it's special treatment for the last member of one of their greatest deceased clans, the poor boy, all alone with no family, so ill-fated to be the only remaining member of the great clan of tragedy?
Some tragedy, scoffs Itachi silently, and anger suddenly washes through his body, his fingers tightening around the thin, pale throat. I gave you everything you needed to become great. Everything to become powerful, everything to reach your true potential—and yet you fail me. He squeezes harder, bruising, hard enough to choke—but no hand reaches up to pry his hands away, no eyelids flutter to reveal eyes full of raw fear, no gag issues from the still mouth. Sasuke remains limp and cold in his bed of roses.
Why are you so weak, little brother? Foolish little brother, how could you have left your goal unfinished? Why can't you kill me?! Where is your hate—Itachi is suddenly aware that he's speaking out loud—yelling, his voice reverberating in the small room.
You were supposed to kill me, he whispers, lowering his head so his hair tickled the boy's face and his lips brushed against his ear. Why have you not? He slowly releases Sasuke's neck, slowly tracing the boy's jaw line, caressing the cold skin. His eyes travel once more to those alluring lips, and Itachi is once again reminded of a fairy tale princess: skin as white as snow, awakened from slumber by love's first kiss—
Without thinking, Itachi does the first thing he fathoms—he desperately smashes his own lips against Sasuke's. The kiss is rushed and intense—and wet—as Itachi moves his lips against his brother's, pressing and prying—Wake up, foolish brother, wake up!—and nipping and licking and wanting.
But there's no breath, except his own panting, not a single flutter of eyelids, not a tiny twitch of fingers.
Itachi waits, frozen, for a long time. Slowly, he brushes a single hair out of Sasuke's still, sleeping face before turning to leave, something painful throbbing where his heart should be.
For the first time in his life, Itachi tastes complete defeat.
fin.
A/N: AIYAAAaaaaaAAH. I wanted it to be a tad funny when I started writing, but it kind of became angsty. oO Ehh...and making out with corpses... :shudders: . I feel like a sick person. D:
Oh...and if you're interested, I have 2 alternate endings to this story. You can find them through the link on my profile.
Reviews are always appreciated.