Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor 'Oxford University Press', nor their computer dictionary connected to Microsoft Word's WordPerfect.
1 This sentence is a direct usage of the WordPerfect dictionary by Oxford University Press definition of the word 'burn', I WILL be using more of the definition later in the story. The word 'Burn' has many different variations of it's definitions
2 This sentence is a direct usage of the WordPerfect dictionary by Oxford University Press definition of the word 'important'.
3 This sentence is a direct usage of the WordPerfect dictionary by Oxford University Press definition of the word 'willow'. It is in reference to the sentence made previously in the section above it, speaking about the Uchiha clan being similar to a Willow tree, Konoha being the leaves since Konoha is the Hidden Village of the Leaf.
The human race, if not acceptable for its supreme intelligence over the rest of the Earth's population, is signified as beings which are ultimately drawn to usages of items underneath them. Whilst it is not similar to the usages of their same species, it is dismal for its lack of self dependency. That is why, even past our first primal developments to our brain waves, we are still mildly connected to the restriction of our fists.
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Itachi had learned three years after he was accepted into chuunin class, that it was not simply the person whose blood made designs across the flooring, but the methods used of bringing the blood to the surface. There were some men for whom Itachi had already chosen a weapon for, and then there were people, people like Shisui, who he didn't think he'd ever want to decide for. Two years later-he leaves bruises instead.
The kunai in his hand is unnaturally heavy, almost uncomfortably so, with the Uchiha crest painted over the wood of its handle. He thought it almost amusing how if the blade was ever burned, the metal would hardly be affected and the red-white fan melted into ashes. But he supposed that that was the whole point of the Uchihas. To burn.
One day the clan would burn down to the ground and there were a strict few people who weren't enough a part of them to disintegrate. Would it make them angry, he wondered? But what he questioned more was if he'd be another of those who'd catch on fire. Or maybe he'd light the matches.
Past and past part; burned or chiefly Brit. Burnt; of a fire; flame or glow while consuming a fuel. 1 Itachi is interrupted by the abrupt yell of Mikoto for dinner, and he sets down the kunai deciding he wouldn't honor Fugaku with his katana and instead mock him with the knife. (And the day you do it, Mikoto is the one with the slash of a katana across her neck even with her faulty aim, and you ask yourself why she still makes the better shinobi.)
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They have met on the hilltop again, though this time it was unintentional. Itachi thinks that his subconscious was more active than its opponent, and that it's been leading him towards places where it knows someone else will be-just to give it the thought that he can't hurt himself as much when other people are there. He disagrees, for the only wound that he'd ever had to have sewn was the cut just above his eyebrow-Mikoto had been reminiscing her life as a shinobi, yet the false curl of her fingers around the blade of the kunai in her hand spoke otherwise, and the almost limp way of her jerk as she released into the stone wall with her eyes centered around the red and white fan for Uchiha fire. Flames only in her eyes for the sake of her resentment of her husband, her heritage, and the ways she was outsmarted even by her children. The only scars he acknowledges are the tiny, swollen line above the black hairs of his brow and the ones that don't show as easily on his skin.
He takes three steps towards Shisui, noting the undertones of every number he counts that could almost go unnoticed underneath his breath. His cousin, he realizes, can be almost as unqualified as a shinobi as Sasuke, despite the talent in his chakra paths. Flames different from his mother's and similar to most Uchiha's despite the rest of their differences in between. Then again, undertones never did count. Itachi blocks the faint whispers of his breath as his feet carry him further. (One, two, three,)
It's the uncanny need to be noticed, to be signified as a man despite his boyishness and symbolized as both an Uchiha and shinobi, as rare as it was to mix. (The Uchiha remained underneath the Hyuga simply for this reason, rising above only in the current generation for the odd results-at least seven of the members had qualified into chuunin class-almost all had qualified into the original hopes for their clan besides the development of the sharingan) Itachi thought that anyone's hopes inside the Uchiha clan of being noticed were single-handedly in his hands, eerily identical to theirs, (and Itachi is sure they're all jealous of their children before they adopt long fingers too slender to have a grip that wasn't perfect) and perhaps Sasuke's, for Itachi's sharingan was so developed he could catch the slightest change in their mood by the color of their chakra, and Sasuke because of his lack of their bloodline limit as well as their destiny of being blind along with it.
Shisui did not notice Itachi's presence until his hand is resting on his shoulder, and it takes him five seconds before he reacts. Itachi thinks that if he were Fugaku, he might raise an eyebrow and set his lips in a thin line for disappointment. But he is not his father, and he has to remind himself that Shisui is not his brother. Chances are Shisui recognized his presence as no threat long before Itachi considered him not realizing it in the first place. Then again, Shisui liked surprising people. It was nearly a disappointment to the most of them.
Shisui takes the first few seconds to jump before his shoulders curl into a twitch. It has an odd similarity to Mikoto as she releases her kunai into the Uchiha fence, but still not quite as mocking. Shisui would never put anyone other than himself in a jest, and Itachi almost states this aloud to calm the distaste in his cousin's eyes.
"So you couldn't sense me all along." Itachi's voice is a mere wisp of its full volume, and it carries no more density than the air. It floats on, and for Shisui's sake, Itachi ignores it as much. Shisui quickly pulls the corners of his lips into a smile, much similar to the twists of the ends of candy wrappers, but it is soured and old, and Itachi thinks there must be a henge on his friend's face for to cover the swirls of cobwebs collected there.
"Itachi." His name has always been a sentence with Shisui, so Itachi will not have to answer. Tonight however, he gives a curt nod of his head and his cousin's smile curves to the point that it almost looks real.
Shisui looks unnaturally small as he sits with his knees curled under his chin, and Itachi does not like looking at him that way. He has to remind himself that his cousin is not his brother, even in places like this with the moon easily posing as the sun the way it outlines their features in streams of its shadowed light. Shisui almost looks elegant, almost looks like Itachi or Mikoto or the other Uchihas from the significant branches of the family. Sometimes the clans are nothing more than a willow tree, and Konoha no more than a leaf.
"The moon looks different tonight," Shisui comments with the addition of a brash jab in its direction, unsuitable to the delicacy of his hands.
"It is late." Itachi admits, shifting his ankles underneath his knees where they're neatly folded in a cross. He prays to each and every god, to stop making moonlight into the reflections of faces he doesn't want to see. They wrinkle their features until they're imprinted on the stars, each glittering blink pounding into his forehead like a nauseating rhythm of head-ache induced slams. (Doors closing, each with the same sound in your face, like Fugaku's disappointment but doubled into Sasuke's)
"Sometimes, it looks like the moon is blending into the sun at these hours, right? I don't like it. It makes me feel like I'm missing something." Shisui is twisting his fingers together in endless symbols, and it almost looks like he's trying to make knots with his limbs that amount to more than those collecting at the muscles in his stomach. Or perhaps, Itachi thinks, his cousin is trying to figure out how to pray as much as he was. It's hard, and for the life of him he hasn't figured it out yet-for surely if he did it right he'd feel at least a little bit different than he does now.
Itachi cocks his head to the side and though Shisui is facing the bottom curves of the moon, he catches the movement out of the corner of his vision, lips open and quivering insistently whether through cold or nerves, (or hopelessness) the ends weathered down as much as the look in his eyes. Shisui has no smile for Itachi in the moonlight. It's too dark, hopefully enough so that people don't see the lack of his grin. Only Obito's teeth are known for glittering in darkness, and so most people will not, but Itachi does, and knows full well that Shisui's do as well.
"Because, Itachi." They didn't bother with 'san' from the beginning and don't care enough about each other to start, but they know each other enough that by now it might be taken as an insult, "Things hide better at night."
Itachi didn't know about that. If he were a different man of the Uchiha, he'd just as likely activate his sharingan and see Shisui better than he'd ever seen him in the day. Shisui's emotions, like most members of their clan, ran in the colors of his chakra rather than the width of his eyes. It was suitable, yes, and to everyone else they were no more than a tool and praised even more than the metal.
"You aren't missing anything important." Itachi offered, almost questionably, daring Shisui to reply.
"Important?" Shisui turned in a rough jerk (This time just as mocking as Mikoto) to face Itachi. "What is important to you?"
"Of great significance or value; Having high rank or social status." 2 Recited as much as his prayers. (What makes the moonlight shimmer?)
Shisui narrows his eyes more than Itachi ever could without them looking like slits. "That's not what I mean. What is important to you?"
Itachi doesn't reply, for if he did Shisui might look at him a little differently, a little suspiciously, and Itachi likes the look Shisui gives him currently just fine. Shisui slaps his palm against his cheek before it hits the ground almost as hard, as if he punishes himself and the earth for making him. Or maybe just for making Itachi, but everyone knew Uchihas just don't pray right and Mikoto couldn't exactly keep him in. He wasn't really the son she liked to hold close.
Shisui's palm is still resting on the dirt before he thrusts his legs out from underneath his chin. He isn't feeling vulnerable anymore, and Itachi wonders whether it was because of the anger or the approaching sunrise. "Are you going to watch the sunrise?" He doesn't add the last two words he wanted to, "with me?", but Shisui doesn't seem to find it necessary. Instead, his cousin seems shocked that Itachi has asked him a slightly pointless question without them already inside a conversation.
Shisui pulls Itachi over to him by the shoulder and ruffles his hair with his knuckles, and Itachi almost feels like a little kid again.
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Willow-a tree or shrub which typically grows near water, has narrow leaves and pliant branches, and bears catkins. Origin Old English -- 3 -- Mikoto's last thought as Itachi enters his room that night is that she still doesn't know where the water happens to be.
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- We are no better than the rest of them; bow down to the slow witted, slit the throats of the dully sympathetic.-
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What makes the moonlight shimmer?
Author's Note: I was hoping for something longer, but this is probably enough to hold you off while I write the next chapter, right? DAMNIT! I've been rhyming like crazy without meaning to for the past two weeks…Please, oh please, oh please review for me. It really does inspire me for later chapters. ANYONE can review, don't be shy. You can message me, as well if you want. Oh! And Happy Thanksgiving! This chapter is my gift to all ya'll! Have a nice holiday, mmkay? Alright!