WARNING: THERE IS M/M SEX IN THIS CHAPTER. IF THIS OFFENDS YOU, DO NOT READ IT.

Chapter V: The Monsters

He was lying on the bed, his head pillowed on Itachi's shoulder. They were as they'd been so many times when Itachi had climbed in through Neji's window, smelling of the forest and wood smoke. Half the time they hadn't even had sex, preferring to lay still and calm, dozing in each other's arms. More words were spoken with silence than with words, which could be twisted and manipulated to serve anyone's purpose. And this was how they'd lain; limbs tangled together, hair unbound. Itachi smelled just as he always had. Neji drank it in in great draughts.

The night was alive now; above him, Neji heard footsteps, indistinct voices shouting words in languages he didn't know. He went on, and seemed to grow smaller, lighter, more insubstantial, and he rose through the house and into the sky and was surrounded by galaxies swirling away from him. They spun out their billion-year lifespans in the blink of an eye and he was left in darkness. He wanted to scream…

The room was bathed in the light of the moon, outlining the furniture and all objects in the room in silver. Itachi was laying on his side now, Neji's head pillowed on his upper arm, and he was looking at Neji curiously. The Hyuuga sat up and ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair, and Itachi sat up with him, rubbing the arm Neji had been sleeping on. It had gone numb.

"You had a nightmare."

Neji slid into Itachi's lap, needing the closeness and warmth now that his skin was exposed to the chill air. "Yes, I did," he replied, and sighed as warmth from the other's body crept into him. He could feel Itachi's heart beating under his cheek and hear it in his ear. "Did you sleep?"

"I do not think so. I am not weary…but do not let that keep you from sleeping. Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

This Itachi was much more like the Itachi he remembered, Neji thought. And for that he was glad; if he'd encountered another thing that held the other's shape and voice but behaved entirely differently, he would have gone mad. The silver light had washed all the blue out of Itachi's pupils and left them a deep gray color, the long lashes touched with the same shade.

"Are we going to stay here very long, Neji?"

Neji wanted to laugh at the irony of that question coming from Itachi. "Quite a while, probably. Why, where else could we go?"

He had been thinking, dozing off while Itachi kept watch over them both; he realized that Anko was right about when they returned. This time, Itachi had more of his own personality because Neji's memories had been jogged. He'd blocked it out, but forcing him to look and consider it again had opened his mind.

Itachi did not blink (it was a habit of all shinobi to blink very rarely, something that disconcerted most normal people), and instead ran his fingers over Neji's seal again, the corners of his lips lifting just a bit. "I do not know," he said finally. "Somewhere away from here. I do not like this place."

Surprised, Neji processed this information; his memory had conjured up a much more accurate Itachi, because the Itachi of Neji's memories would not have stayed more than a night in this place. "In a few days," he said, and pushed his hands into Itachi's hair, pulling him down for a kiss.

The Uchiha was just as responsive as Neji remembered. It was a habit they had both fallen into, the times when they had half a night or less, times of breathless touches and silence. His lips were just as soft and yet firm, dominating him just enough to excite him. Itachi knew he could run chakra through every one of the points on his body and nearly kill him, but he knew, too, that Neji would not do it. And the knowledge that Itachi knew and did what he did anyway excited the Hyuuga.

Greedily, he slid his tongue between Itachi's lips and teeth and stroked the other's tongue, lapping his lover's mouth with his own, drinking up the taste he'd craved for so long. And Itachi responded in kind, just as hungry and desperate as Neji. They matched each other breath for breath, touch for touch, hands trailing over skin and hair as though they were just exploring the other's body for the first time. And when Itachi's lips left his and trailed down his neck, the delicate, deadly hands caressing his hip before pushing his sleeping pants off, Neji purred softly, arching under his hand. It was familiar, it was safe. It was what he wanted.

For a long time—he had no idea just how long, as time was measured for him in bated breath and the touch of fingers to bare skin—they simply took delight in touching and caressing and kissing each other. Itachi had apparently come with a knowledge of every place that made Neji's breath catch in his throat and his fingers tighten on the Uchiha's shoulders as the other crouched over him, long hair trailing down to tickle the other's skin with the ends. And the beautiful dark blue eyes glittered up at him, filling with lust as they always had.

Trailing lower, Itachi made to take Neji's now-erect cock in his mouth, but Neji stopped him. He'd waited long enough to feel this again, he didn't want to go through all the preliminary song and dance. (Even if it did feel wonderful to have his length in Itachi's mouth.) There was a minor road bump when he remembered that he hadn't packed any lubricant, but then he found a bottle of cream in one of the drawers and shoved it at Itachi. Watching as Itachi spread the clear cream on his fingers, Neji felt nervousness flutter in his stomach. It had been years since this—years since he'd had sex at all. What if—

And then Itachi's first finger was inside him and he moaned softly, relaxing and letting his body adjust to this intrusion. Watching Neji's face, Itachi curled and flexed his finger, going slowly for he knew that Neji wasn't used to this. When the Hyuuga had relaxed enough he slid a second finger in, searching for that all-important little spot inside him. Scissoring his fingers, Itachi smirked when Neji arched up off the bed. He pressed his fingers harder against it, rubbing in little circles, and the Hyuuga moaned, toes curling.

"Ha…Hurry up, Itachi," he gasped, glaring down at the other man and lifting his hips insistently. He wanted something bigger inside him than fingers.

"Be patient," Itachi said, voice as mild as if they were discussing the weather. Neji whined as the Uchiha added a third finger, rocking them in and out of him fast but gently. Watching Neji writhe and moan, all because of him, was more of a turn-on than anything else. If Itachi knew what dreams looked like, Neji would be it, his pale skin flushed and his hair spread out across the functional white sheets, black in the light. He pressed again against the other's prostate and Neji cried out, tossing his head from side to side.

At last he pulled his hand out, wiping it on a corner of the bedsheets, and quickly spread the cream over his cock. Panting in anticipation, Neji shifted onto his side, bending one long, strong leg. "This way," he said, pulling Itachi down as soon as he finished. "I want it this way." Not complaining, Itachi lay down behind Neji, propping himself up on one elbow while the other hand guided his length into his lover.

And—oh, the feeling of being full—the perfect fit—the way Itachi moved inside him—

When he came, crying out into the night as he thrust down against Itachi moving inside him, he felt complete for the first time in six years.

He dropped off several times after that, each time jolting himself awake with some shock as he dropped into dream. Exhausted, sweaty, Neji pressed closer to Itachi, calming himself down slowly as he felt the other's fingers press against his skin, feeling if he had a fever or not. He was running a temperature. It was Itachi, the real Itachi, the one and only Itachi.

Neji fell asleep.

When he woke up, it was to Itachi watching him again, one hand idly toying with the other's hair as he'd often done. Neji's hair was fine, but thick and heavy, and it fascinated Itachi. He'd been forever playing with it and petting it into place, without ever letting Neji do the same with his hair. This had been resolved by Neji touching it after Itachi had fallen asleep.

"You were asleep a long time," Itachi said. "How do you feel?"

"Hungry." Neji sat up, and Itachi slid off the bed and padded, barefoot, into the bathroom. He was wearing only his pants, and Neji could not help but watch him leave, a little ache in his chest. But Itachi's path brought Neji's eyes to rest on the two coats folded over the back of a chair; two completely identical coats, down to the stitching on the clouds and at the seams.

Itachi, looking in the mirror, followed Neji's glance. "I think perhaps the buttons must be rusted together," he said. "It is good that they are made wide enough for my head to fit through the neck."

Neji was filled with a dread that trumped any feeling of contentment left over from their night together. Backing toward the bathroom door, he looked inside—Itachi was busy cleaning up something inside there. He'd always been one for fastidiousness. Slowly, though, so slowly, Neji closed the bathroom door with a soft click, and held the knob shut. The tap continued to run, bottles clinking and the sound of the washcloth Itachi had sponged his forehead with being put over the rack to dry (that distinctive swish-plop sound only wet cloth made). And then, nothing. Neji waited, jaw clenched, gripping the knob with both hands with all his strength. It was nearly torn from his grasp. The door bent inwards before shattering. The Hyuuga caught a glimpse of a deathly pale face and wild hair before Itachi reached him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

He wanted to escape, run away and get out of this town full of ghosts and spirits, but it was too late now. Itachi's breathing was ragged and convulsive, and as Neji peeled the older man off him and laid him on the bed, he saw that the nails on Itachi's hands were torn off, and the skin raw. On the Uchiha's palms, he'd been cut down to the bone.

"Itachi."

The only answer was a soft groan. Neji went over to the bag of first-aid supplies he'd brought along, but turned back as the bed creaked. Itachi was sitting up, hair in disarray around his face, staring at his bloodied and torn hands.

"What happened?" he asked, turning his hands over to look at the scarred backs, then looked up to see the pieces of the bathroom door. Neji had never had to see Uchiha Itachi hide terror before. "Neji," he asked slowly, in that voice that told others he meant business. "What did I do?"

Cutting some gauze strips, Neji carried those, a cloth, and antiseptic over to the bed, and sat close to Itachi, pulling one of the hands back toward him. Looking down at it, however, he froze. The nails had grown back; turning the hands over, he saw light scars on the palms, but even those were healing well. "What did you do that for, Itachi?"

Itachi glanced between his hands and the door. "I…am not sure." He shifted, uncomfortable. He had never not known the reason for an action before. "I looked for you, but you were not in the bathroom. I thought you might be in the shower, but you were not."

"And after that."

"I do not remember."

"Nothing?"

"No. I remember looking for you, and then I was out here."

Neji smiled up at the other, cupping his cheek. "It's nothing," he said. "I'll clean up the pieces later. Let's go get some food."

Thankfully, there was no one in the kitchen right now, and Neji cooked a meal for both of them. Itachi ate, but it was clear he was only doing so to be polite and not because he wanted to. Afterwards, Neji led Itachi to the library, where he selected a few volumes to study and Itachi sat in a chair by the window, not ten feet away, a scroll open but unread in his lap as he stared out over the dead city.

"Doing some light reading?"

Anko was standing behind him. Orochimaru was behind her about the same distance as Itachi was from Neji, pretending to peruse the bookshelves. Rolling the scroll he was reading, Neji set it down on the desk. "Just a little."

Looking over, Anko whistled appreciatively at Itachi, who looked back her, bored. "Good taste, Neji."

"I doubt I have a choice in the matter."

"I heard you two last night, you know." She grinned lewdly, licking her lips. "It got mine all riled up."

Neji made a noise of distaste. "What do you want?"

"Shizune wants a conference. Just the three of us, outside the laboratory."

"What?" He sat up. "But she—"

"—doesn't come out, I know, but she does now. One hour, just where I told you."

"Very well." Neji sat back down, picking up the next scroll. "I shall be there."

"Alone." Anko looked pointedly at Itachi, rounded up her own visitor, and left. Neji heaved a sigh, and stared at the characters without actually seeing them.

"Who was that?" Itachi asked.

"Anko."

"Anko-san, former ANBU?"

"That's right."

"I see," he murmured, brow furrowed, and quieted again. Neji went back to his reading, brushing up on the history of the area again. It would never hurt to prepare more; may now, in fact, be a matter of life or death.

The light shifted slowly, and at what he judged was about five minutes to the hour, Neji set the scrolls down and went over, holding a hand out to Itachi. "I'm going to need you to stand back a bit," he said, rubbing his thumb over Itachi's skin as they walked. "And to not listen."

Clenching his jaw, Itachi nodded curtly. About fifteen feet back, he stopped, and Neji dropped his hand and continued on. A few seconds later, Anko ascended the stairs; peeking over the landing, he could see Orochimaru leaning against the wall at the base of the stairs, eyes watching her every move. He caught Neji's gaze, and his eyes narrowed. Shizune appeared not long after.

"Hello!" she said, in a strained and unnaturally high voice, with that sort of fake smile that said that she'd really rather be somewhere else. "I'd like to talk about our…"

"Visitors?" Neji offered. He received twin glares, one panicked and one annoyed.

"Shut up! We don't want them to hear—"

"Do you think they're not listening?" Neji said dryly, and glanced back at Itachi, who was leaning against the wall with his eyes on Neji's back.

"Good point." Shizune brushed her wrinkled clothes off, and said, "I think it'd be best if we shared knowledge on this. Just a little chat."

"A little chat?" Neji heard himself say, as though from a great distance. "I haven't done as much as you probably have, Shizune. But I have the impression that your findings will collaborate on this—everything looks normal, but it's just a cover—a copy. A reproduction that is better than the original, one that satisfies our fantasies and desires."

"Hold on!" Shizune said. "What do you mean?"

Itachi was looking at him again. He'd nearly shouted the last words. "We are dealing with something like a copy of what we want—it is not precisely that, but it has the looks and the characteristics of something—something we've thought about for a long time. And most of the behavior, but when they first come, it's much less precise. However, the initial visit brings more thought to our mind of how the thing is supposed to be."

"Will you be quieter?" Anko hissed, looking nervously back down the stairs. Neji shrugged and continued.

"I'm a shinobi first, not a counselor or someone how analyzes human thought," he said, in a much softer tone of voice. "But this is what I have thought."

"I'd agree with you," Anko said, calmer now that their voices had dropped again. "They seem to be projections of what's in our mind. Within limits, the…creation behaves in the same way as the…er…"

"Original." Shizune whispered. "Now, if you'll all be quiet long enough for me to present my medical findings…"

Neji tuned her out and went inward, thinking about his own ideas. He had no knowledge of the medical field, and what Shizune was saying was rather technical, and he could hear Itachi pacing restlessly, the coat he'd put on rustling around him almost inaudibly.

"…dealing with something beyond atoms, beyond anything we know," Shizune was saying. Neji went out again, but this time he stayed within the confines of the house. For a while, he'd been watching a shadow move behind the little window in the door (it had been covered with a piece of scroll-paper). Slowly, he'd seen the corner of the scroll-paper lifting, and something pink and silver moving into and out of view.

"What it is, we don't know," Shizune said, turning to glance back at the door, then doing a horrified double take. "No, get back, get back!" she cried out, and vanished in a puff of smoke. The scroll-paper fell away entirely, and again Neji saw the glint like light on glasses, and silver hair. There was a crash, and the scroll-paper was hastily replaced.

The meeting was over.

Neji woke up in the middle of the night to find Itachi sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. He could see the Uchiha was trembling minutely, as he had when he'd come to Neji wounded or was full of adrenaline from a near-encounter with the Konoha guard. But neither of those things had occurred here. Neji sat up.

"Itachi?"

"Do not talk to me," came the other's voice, cold and commanding. Neji's brow furrowed.

"What's going on, Itachi?"

"You don't want me."

Scrubbing his face and looking down at the sheets (and his naked body; they'd made love again before falling asleep wrapped up in each other's arms), Neji looked back up at Itachi, trying to get the nightmare he'd been in from his mind. "What are you talking about?"

"I heard…"

"Heard what?" A surge of fear; had he heard what they'd been saying at the conference?

"You said I was not Itachi. You wanted me to go, and I would…but I cannot. I don't know why. I've tried to go, but I can't." He muttered something that sounded like 'cowardice,' and Neji slid over. This admission—it wasn't like Itachi, it was true, but it still tugged at Neji's heart. Whatever the true nature of these beings sent to them, the fact of the matter was it still wore Itachi's shape, and Neji still reacted to it as he would to Itachi. He leaned against the other's back, wrapping his arms around Itachi's shoulders and saying things, apologizing, begging, pleading, making wild excuses and promises, until at last Itachi pushed him away.

"No," he said. "Do not talk like that, it does not befit you. You are not the same anymore." Neji began to protest but Itachi held up a hand. "I knew this before, but I did not want to see it, thought perhaps the illness you say I have had had affected my memory, but I see now that I was wrong."

That voice was dangerous, Neji thought. Itachi was dangerous like this, and warily he moved next to the other, leaning his head on Itachi's shoulder. "I'm going to tell you the truth," he said softly, hands clasping one of Itachi's. Despite everything that had happened here, despite the fact that he knew in his gut that this wasn't the Itachi he knew and loved, this was close enough. He just wanted something—

"We've both changed, Itachi. We all do—but that's not what I want to say. Somehow, it seems…you're forced to stay near me. I'm fine with that…because I can't leave you either." Turning his face into Itachi's shoulder, he breathed in the woodsy, fiery smell he loved dearly. "I have waited six years to be with you again. Don't leave now."

"No, Neji, the change isn't in you," Itachi said. One hand went up to pet Neji's hair gently, sifting through the strands. "It is I. Something is wrong. Perhaps it has to do with whatever kept me in a coma for six years?" He stared at the empty doorway to the bathroom, then looked back at Neji, who lifted his head.

"Have you been sleeping well?" Neji asked.

"I don't know…"

"What do you mean?"

"I dream…but I am not sure if they are dreams or thoughts. It is strange…it is as though they are coming from outside me into my mind."

"Well, they must be dreams then," Neji said quickly, before he started shaking. "We can think about it together more tomorrow, after a bit more sleep." He laid back down, and Itachi laid down next to him, drawing the Hyuuga toward his chest. Grateful for the warmth and the arms around him, Neji tucked his head under Itachi's chin and closed his eyes, draping an arm over Itachi's midsection.

"Neji."

"Yes?"

Itachi did not have to say it with words, but the gentle brush of his lips against Neji's forehead was speech enough for the other man.

Neji almost screamed.

In the morning he found a note slipped under his door. With Itachi in the shower, Neji broke the seal on the note and read it.

"Neji, things are getting better. Shizune wants to do some new experiment with something she's devised—I don't want to reproduce it all here, I don't understand it myself—but she wants to know if you can collect a sample of your visitor and give it to her. Don't worry, he'll come right back, but it's up to you either way. All I ask is that you stay outside the room. We can talk through the door.

-Anko

Neji's hands shook as he read the note, and reread it, and then carefully burned it with a jolt of searing chakra. Things were getting more complicated than ever.

Wrapped only in a towel, Itachi came out of the bathroom. "What was that?" he asked, drying his hair with another towel.

"Just a bit of trash," Neji said, smiling at him. The tension of last night was gone, replaced by the feeling of wholeness again. He did not want to disturb the harmony of that.

They got dressed and ate in the dining room, sitting close together so that occasionally their thighs would be pressed together or their arms would brush against each other. This small contact seemed to pacify Itachi further, so that when Neji said he wanted to return to the library to do some more reading, Itachi followed without a word, and was content to sit up in the same chair he had yesterday, another book in his lap. Neji browsed the shelves, pulling down a few more scrolls, and busied himself learning the difficult terminology surrounding the recorded Lake phenomena. What he found interesting in his readings, however, was that nowhere was there noted any kind of incident such as they had been experiencing. In none of the post transcripts, in no reports, nothing made mention of humanoid manifestations, save the one instance concerning Yume and that expedition. There had been other manifestations, to be sure; great designs made out of water, it seemed, that throbbed with the power of the chakra holding them up but collapsed at a touch. Numerous accounts of these, no explanations, and nothing of any 'visitors.'

As he read, Neji began coming up with questions, things to ask Anko should he run into her. Most importantly, he wanted to find Kiba, talk to the dog-nin about all this. Why was Kiba not at the base camp? Where was he, and when did he leave?

Replacing the last scroll on the shelf, Neji felt, more than saw, an explosion. A moment later after he'd activated the Byakugan, he saw a cloud of flame rising into the sky from a point near the edge of the city.

Behind him, Itachi shivered slightly, rustling the scroll-paper.

"Cold?" Neji asked.

"No, I am fine," Itachi said after a moment.

"Neji!"

Both Itachi and Neji looked over at Shizune, bouncing into the library. This was the first time Neji had seen her out of the lab, and the first time Itachi had been within hearing distance of her. He was looking at her with interest, but she seemed to pay him no mind until she got close. "Shizune-san," Neji said politely, stepping to the side. "This is Itachi."

"Oh! A pleasure!" she said, nervous laughter bubbling out of her. Neji thought it strange until he realized If I came face-to-face with a S-Class missing-nin manifested by a body of water, I'd be nervous, too. The thought made him smile, and he caught a reproachful look from Shizune before she perked up again.

"There'll be no need to go on with what I suggested!" she said. "I've got a better idea."

"Oh? What's that?" Secretly, Neji was glad. He couldn't do what he did a second time.

"Well…" She glanced at Itachi. Neji caught her meaning.

"Itachi, Shizune-san and I need to discuss something in private. Could you please leave us a moment?"

Itachi nodded solemnly and went off down the long shelving row, disappearing around the corner. Shizune led Neji in the opposite direction, and leaned against the doorway to the room.

"We're going to go out on the lake and you are going to blast it with chakra," she said finally, breathless.

"What?"

"Pouring pure chakra into the lake caused it to react this way. I want to know what a focused point of chakra—razor-sharp and cutting like that of the Jyuuken—would do. Most of the activity has been from the center of the lake, you see—we'd go out in a boat…"

"Break the sanction—?"

"In the name of science, I think it'd be admissible."

Neji stared at her. This wasn't like Shizune—she was confident, yes, and bright, but that statement had bordered on ethical lines, and Shizune would never had crossed them. That got into territory that Orochimaru had strayed into with his experiments on shinobi—

And then he realized that one of Shizune's hands was tucked out of sight on the hallway side of the jamb, hanging as if clasping someone's hand.

"Who's there with you?" he asked. Shizune paled, and backed away down the hall toward her lab.

"Well, I'll leave you to consider the experiment!" she said in that unnaturally high voice. "Contact me with your answer!"

As she retreated, he heard two sets of footsteps on the floorboards, until the door slammed.

Tsunade was at her desk when the messenger-bearer flew into her window. This was the only thing authorized to come to her directly and bypass the others, because of the nature of the mission. Nobody would suspect a bird like this one. Pulling the scroll pouch off the bird's leg, Tsunade focused her chakra briefly and the bird disintegrated into a puff of chakra. Neji's chakra, she thought. Always like a calm bay.

There were two scrolls, she discovered; one was Neji's report, in his precise handwriting—and the other…

Tsunade sat back in her chair. It was Kakashi's post-mortem report, detailing his death. As she read it, thought…it was like the pieces fit together, but the picture they created was distorted and wrong.

"Panic pills?" she murmured. "Nervous breakdown…?"

No, this wasn't right. The report was in Anko's hand, she'd have to ask when they returned, or send it back with her report confirmation.

Neji's report was concise, as all his reports were. Still, she had the feeling he was hiding something from her, something important. There were points where there was a darker dot of ink at the start of a character, as if he'd paused to think about what he said next. Indicative of Neji, but…

She sighed, and picked up three black-edged scrolls. There had been the death of a great man.