A/N: Sorry for being gone so long, I got in a writing funk after NaNoWriMo (Check that story, 'A Gentle Rain', out sometime, it's Minato/Kushina and I'm rather proud of it). As an apology I am putting together an ItaNeji fanmix of sorts. I'll put the address in the next update and on my profile. Thank you!


Chapter VI: Conversations

It had all happened so fast.

One minute, Naruto had been a happy, laughing young man, the next he had been sobbing, eyes sparkling with tears rather than the joy that she'd come to love in him. Sasuke hadn't shown the same display of grief, but she could see him shaking with it as he held and cradled Naruto against him, stroking the blonde's hair with a gloved hand. The reason for their despair was a scroll that now lay in the grass beside Naruto's knee. It was a black scroll, bearing the Hokage's seal.

Everyone with friendships, everyone with family within the shinobi lived in fear of the black scroll, because it was only sent out when someone related to you (and teacher-student ties were often just as deep, if not moreso, than familial ties) in some way had died. The black scroll meant that your lover, your friend, your teacher, your child, would not be returning home under their own power. They would be returning home in ashes.

Sakura came over later that day, eyes red-rimmed. In her hand, she clasped another black scroll, and without a word Hinata took her to where she had settled Naruto and Sasuke in her own antechamber. It was a serene place, opening out into a rock garden; Hinata set out another cushion for her and brought another cup of tea, offering it to Sakura with both hands. She poured more for Naruto and Sasuke, refusing to give them sake; getting drunk was not the way to handle it. Of course, Hinata thought as she left them alone to talk, she'd rather they get drunk here where she could take care of them, rather than out somewhere where they could get hurt. Oh, they were two ANBU and a very capable tokubetsu jounin, but Hinata would be worried for them. Grieving shinobi could become irrational when drunk, even if they weren't normally.

A few hours later, she did cave in to their requests, and brought sake, and watched as they proceeded to get blissfully drunk. And after, she watched as Sakura and Sasuke half-walked, half-stumbled to the room set aside for the two ANBU as they rotated on and off-duty, and helped Naruto into the spare futon in her room. He was grinning as he wept, big tears that wrenched her heart from her.

"Was a grea' man, Kakashi-sensei," Naruto was mumbling as Hinata stripped his mask and flak jacket off him. "Favored Sasuke-bastard, but was jus' tryin' to make him see sense…but he was a grea' man…"

"He was," Hinata murmured, trying to get him settled enough to sleep. She'd already made him drink plenty of water and washed his face, but as she made to stand and get into her own bed, he pulled her down against him. Her heart skipped a beat, feeling his warm, strong body through the blankets.

"You're beautiful, yannow that?" Naruto mumbled, petting her hair messily. "Really, really beautiful. Always thought so, even though back when we were kids you were kinda weird…"

Thank you, Naruto, she thought icily, but could only squeak as he wrapped his arms gracelessly around her back, cuddling. He reeked of the sake, and she intended to only let him tuck her under his arm for a moment. But in that moment he was asleep, and with his warmth next to her, she was too.

Once, during the night, Sasuke woke up and crawled away from Sakura's warm, naked form under the blankets, sitting on the edge of the verandah looking out over the garden. It was not quite as good an angle as from Hinata's room (he could hear Naruto's snores from there, and smiled thinly), and a bush partially blocked his view, but it was good and quiet enough for thinking.

He was glad for the drink. It dulled memories, thoughts that he should not revisit but did, every night. Rubbing his temples, Sasuke stared out over the moonlit garden for a very long time before tottering back into bed and falling into a dreamless sleep.

In the morning, Team Seven woke with what seemed like a collective headache. Hinata dished out remedies quietly, medical ninjutsu not doing much for headaches in general. Naruto seemed especially quiet, and she took care to look after him. He smiled at her, but it was a shadow of what it usually was, and he pulled her aside a moment, as Sasuke and Sakura talked by themselves.

"I'm sorry for last night," he said, unusually humble. "I shouldn't have gotten in your space like that."

"Naruto…" she smiled. "It's all right."

He gave her a small smile, and they rejoined the others.

---

Neji lay in the dark a long time; after a while, all sight and sound faded away. There was a noise like horses running overhead, and then he opened his eyes suddenly. The bed seemed bigger; he looked around, and saw that Itachi was gone somewhere. He touched the pillow where the Uchiha's head had lain; it was cold. He was about to sit up and call out for him when he heard footsteps coming toward him, and he calmed inexplicably. There was no press of chakra; it was not a foe.

"Kakashi?"

"Yes, it's me, Neji. Don't turn on the light, there's no need, and it's better to keep these words in the dark."

"But you're dead…" Neji closed his eyes. Death itself was no longer constant in this accursed place.

"Don't worry about it. It's my voice—you've heard me before, haven't you?" Movement out of the corner of his eye, but out of trust Neji did not activate his Byakugan. As Kakashi had said, there wasn't any need.

"Why did you take the cyanide pills?"

"You arrived late; if you hadn't, I wouldn't have been forced to. I don't regret it, though."

"I must be asleep." Neji rubbed his eyes, wondering if the stress of the situation had finally gotten to him.

"You think you're dreaming still, as you did with Itachi."

"Where is he?"

"Why would I know where Itachi is?"

Neji's brows furrowed. "I think you do."

"You geniuses are all the same, you all think too much. Stop thinking, and let me talk."

"I want Itachi too."

"You can't have both him and me, Neji, and there are some things I must tell you that are very important. Why should you care about Itachi anyway?"

"We are together."

"You're afraid of him."

"No."

"He disgusts you."

Neji made a soft noise in his throat; Kakashi, sadly, was right. This creature that walked and talked and wore Itachi's skin was enough like him to pass, to satisfy Neji's need for his lover, but Neji knew he was not the man he'd once asked to stay to watch the falling stars. "What do you want with him?"

"Save it for yourself, but don't pity him. He'll always be twenty-four years old, Neji, you have to know that."

"What do you want, Kakashi?"

"Shizune's convinced Anko that you've been deceiving both of them. She's come up with a way to permanently get rid of your visitors; whatever they've asked you to do to the lake, it's a cover for building this device that will eliminate them."

"Where's Itachi?"

"Didn't you hear me, I came to warn you!"

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. Be careful; you can't trust anyone anymore, not even Itachi. And if all else fails, you can always follow my example!"

"You're not Kakashi."

"Then who am I, a dream?" Kakashi, who was not Kakashi, laughed. "If so, then this is a dream within a dream, Neji."

"You just don't know who you are."

"And how do you know who you are, Neji? You've held onto this for six years, now, isn't it? You've stayed the same bitter man the whole process made you into, and you've never let go of it."

"Seeing your lover killed in front of you tends to do that," Neji said, anger building in his chest.

"Maybe it's because you don't want to let go, Neji. Maybe it's because…"

Neji put his hands over his ears, eyes squeezing shut. He was four years old again and they were telling him his father died, the seal was being branded onto his forehead, Itachi's stump of a neck was spurting blood…

"…we are the cause of our own suffering," a distant voice was saying. These beings behave as an amplifier to our own thoughts, creating a problem we are not equipped to solve, as any attempt to understand why this has happened is blocked by our own conscious mind. Where there are no men, there is no motive available to man. The only way to proceed here at Toki Lake would be to either destroy our thoughts or destroy the manifestation of our thoughts, and since we cannot destroy our thoughts, the solution must be to somehow totally destroy their manifestation, an act that would be tantamount to murder—"

Neji stretched out his arm—the bed was empty. He'd fallen asleep again. "Kakashi?"

The voice cut off suddenly, and there was the sound of rustling cloth.

"Kakashi, you follow me in my dreams?"

"It's I, Neji."

"Itachi? But what about Kakashi?"

"You said he was dead, Neji."

"But he spoke to me…he was here." But Neji was already drifting back into sleep. Itachi said something, but he took a deep breath, and was gone. In the morning, he looked under the bed for where he'd hidden the recording scroll, but it was gone. Itachi was in the bathroom, and Neji got up, padding into the bathroom to join him in the shower.

"Have you seen a recording scroll? It must have rolled under the bed."

"There was a pile of things under the bed, I put it on the table."

It wasn't there when Neji looked, long hair dripping down his back and at his heels. "It's missing, Itachi."

"Is that all you are concerned about?"

Neji sighed, and replaced all the neatly folded and organized clothes and gear. "You're right, it's useless to get worked up about it." Anything to avoid a fight.

Itachi's behavior changed over breakfast; he seemed to be making an effort to keep Neji smiling and laughing, but there was such a look in his eyes that Neji raised an eyebrow after Itachi had made a very, very rare attempt at a joke.

"Is something the matter?"

A dark look came over the Uchiha's face. "Why should you care? They are not real feelings anyway."

They spent the day looking around the dead city; Neji came across more evidence of fights, some of the signs going back many years. There was no graffiti, none of the usual dereliction that came with an abandoned city; no evidence of squatters at all. Rogue ninja, not of the variety that Itachi belonged to, would often take refuge in cities such as these, use them as bases.

Itachi trailed behind him all day, seemingly in a sulking fit, although it could hardly be called that. He was sullen and quiet all day long, whatever he was, and after dinner (Itachi only picked at his food, pushing it around his plate and not even eating a bite), he heaved a sigh. "Neji, what is happening to us?"

Neji made a frustrated sound. "Everything's fine. Why?"

"I want to…talk."

"I'm listening."

"Not like this."

"Then how do you propose we talk, Itachi?"

"You're not being fair."

Neji forced a smile, but it wasn't convincing to Itachi, because he got up and turned his back. "Tell me the truth."

"Why should I lie?"

"I already know I don't remember how I got here, and I want you to tell me—but what if you don't know?" That last was spoken softly, as though he was talking to himself. "But if you do…you will tell me, even if it's later? You will at least give me a chance?"

"A chance? What are you talking about, Itachi?"

"If you can't say, you only need to tell me."

"I'm not hiding anything," Neji said defensively.

"All right."

Neji didn't want to end it on that note; it would hang over their heads for days. "Itachi, you know I love you—"

"You love me?" the words were nearly spat out. "I'd rather you hate me."

For a moment, the Hyuuga's heart stopped. "Itachi. What are you talking about?"

"No, don't say anything more!"

They cleared the table in silence and went back to their room. Neji lay down next to his lover, but Itachi had rolled onto his side, and with a sigh, Neji pushed up against his back and closed his eyes.

---

In the middle of the night he was wide awake; the door was ajar, and there was a high-pitched whining sound coming from down the hall. A smaller laboratory had been put together down here after Shizune had taken over the upstairs one, and it was from there the sound was coming. Neji ran down the hall and pushed open the door, and the temperature dropped. A vapor filled the room, his breath misted, condensed, and fluttered to the ground, and stirred over a body jerking on the floor. It was wearing black pants, and had long black hair.

"Itachi—!" Neji snatched him up, hauling the heavier man back along the corridor to their room, putting him in one of the chairs that comprised the sparse furnishings. Itachi's hands plucked at his skin, their chill a burn against his warm skin, his breath freezing on Neji's skin and clothes and hair. His face contorted with pain, a layer of blood covered Itachi's chin. His hair and lashes were brushed with white ice crystals.

"Oxygen…" the lab had contained bottles of liquid oxygen. Itachi must have swallowed it, and burned away his throat and lungs and most of his esophagus. He was breathing with the sound of tearing paper; every breath ripped tissues apart in side him. He was dying, and Neji could think of nothing to save him.

He's dying, and there's nothing—I can't even warm him up quickly enough—he's got no lungs, I can't perform an emergency tracheotomy…

Panic grew inside his chest; Itachi's breath rattled in his chest, and he convulsed. Neji had to hold him down to keep him from knocking his head and slipping into unconsciousness. Wide, dark blue eyes filled with a never-before-seen terror stared at Neji, blinked. A drop of blood melted and ran down his cheek, disappearing into the inky black hair that had become wet and tangled with the melting ice. Putting his ear to Itachi's chest, Neji could not even count the beats, they were so fast.

"Neji!"

He took the Uchiha's hand, and gasped at the strength in the other's grip. Itachi convulsed and again Neji pressed him back down to the chair. He was pouring with sweat, weak in the knees, and gasping for breath just as loud as Itachi was. Pulling back once the fit was over, he looked into the horrific mask of Itachi's face.

"Neji…how long…?"

Pink foam dribbled out of his lips, and Neji hastily wiped it away. Itachi kept breathing, and the harsh rasp was only a wheeze, then a rumble, then a soft sigh, as it had always been. Color returned to Itachi's cheeks.

He opened his eyes, and looked at Neji, then sat up and looked around the room. "It didn't work," he murmured softly, and looked back at Neji. The Hyuuga couldn't help it; he was staring. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Itachi whispered, and then grabbed Neji's shoulders, shaking him hard and all but screamed, "Why are you looking at me like that, Neji?" Still, Neji said nothing.

Itachi let him go and stared at his hands, fingers, flexed them; they were functional as they had always been, calloused and scarred. "Is this me?"

Neji found the strength to speak. "Itachi?"

He stumbled, staring at Neji without really seeing him. "Itachi…? But I am not him. Who am I, and who are you?" His eyes widened, and lit up, and an insane smile lit his face. "And you, Neji, maybe you…"

Neji had backed up against the wall, and was now flat against it. The smile disappeared.

"No, you fear me. I cannot take it anymore, I…I didn't know, I don't understand, it's impossible." His hands clenched in his wet, matted hair. "What else could I think, except that I am Itachi! It's not an act, Neji, I swear it is not!"

Neji stepped away from the wall, moved to put his arms around the Uchiha, but Itachi pushed him away.

"No, don't touch me, I know I disgust you. I am not the one you love."

They fought, and Neji was hard-pressed to keep Itachi from killing him with a blow; without chakra, the Uchiha was limited to taijutsu, but even that he had a mastery at and it took all the Hyuuga's own considerable skill to keep him at bay until they both collapsed, breathless and sweaty. Itachi finally laid his head on Neji's leg, eyes closed tightly.

"Neji…what do we have to do to stop this?"

"Shut up!"

"Can it be done?"

"Itachi, please…"

"I tried…no, don't touch me, I disgust you—and myself, I disgust myself."

"Do not dare try to kill yourself again, Itachi."

"I am not Itachi!" At a look from Neji, a tired, angry look, however, the Uchiha subsided, head falling back to Neji's thigh. "But if you want me to be him, I will be. But you exist, and I do not. I know it was your love for him that made you treat me so well at the beginning. I couldn't remember how I came to be sitting by your bed that first day…everything was misty, a haze in my mind. You were the only thing I knew. But the way you treated me…and then the library, in the library I read some things, and then I found that recorder-scroll by the man—Kakashi?"

"Yes, Kakashi…"

"He explained everything. Although I still do not see that there is an end; there is no switch to turn us off. I heard enough to realize that I wasn't Itachi, I wasn't even human. I was only an instrument of the lake, here to study you. But…" he got a faraway look on his face. "That isn't right either. It's not the lake, really…but it's what's in the lake…"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm here to study your reactions—manifested from your memory, or your imagination—but in this case your memory, an echo of someone deeply rooted in your psyche that you would be comfortable with. That's why we don't eat or sleep, and why we have to follow you around everywhere you go. And…Neji, there's something else I must ask you."

"Yes?"

"Do I…look very much like him?"

Neji looked down to meet the blue-black eyes he knew so well, trace the thin line on the throat with a fingertip. "You look exactly like him, but…different. Now all I see is you. But if I saw him, I might not be able to love you."

"Why not?"

"Because of what I did to him."

"Did you treat him badly?"

"No…but I am the reason he got—"

"Don't say any more."

"Why not?"

"So that you will not forget that it is me here with you, not him."