This chapter contradicts the first one slightly. I will fix that later. But it's not a flash back so it shouldn't reflect the actual event perfectly anyway.

I felt the weight of the weapon balanced between my fingers. My katana felt suddenly heavy, as did my heart. But there was no turning back now. I had more to think about than my own family.

One throat then another, at least their last breaths were those of peaceful sleep. But my hand was unsteady and I was making an unnecessary amount of mess.

I tried not to contact the warm red substance, but I soon found my fingers were drenched.

It seemed to be an eternity before it was my own house that I entered. My parents would still be up, probably sitting in the kitchen. I knew they would be waiting for my brother to return.

I opened the door and suddenly felt somewhat self- conscious about the blood flecked over me.

My mother jumped to her feet, concern plastered on her face, "Are you ok Itachi kun?"

Her words seemed to ring out. They bounced around the inside of my head as I psyched myself up for what was to come.

She approached me, hand outstretched as though to check where my wounds were. But the blood was not mine.

I felt my insides tense and crush as I ran the sword between her ribs. A look of surprise and hurt came into her eyes as she died. I allowed to her to see the emotion in my eyes before she died. I had never shown it to her in my memory. She deserved that much…

Gently, ever so gently I pulled the sword from her corpse, not wanting to damage her any further.

I turned to my father. He was on his feet and ready in a fighting stance, "Who are you?" he demanded angrily, eyes flicking to the corpse of his wife, "Where's my son?"

"Still in denial father?" I asked, trying not to choke. Unlike my mother, the only emotion my father would ever see in me would be anger. I would make sure of that now.

In the end it was something quite simple that killed him. A bunshin falling from the ceiling ran him through. I thought I saw him hesitate, but I couldn't be sure.

My father couldn't kill me? Perhaps he cared more for me than I had anticipated.

I knew something was wrong when an unrealistic amount of blood exploded from my father's fatal wound and splattered across my torso.

This impact would have been measured as a hundred- fold stronger than was normal. I was thrown back off of my feet and suddenly everything seemed to move in slow motion.

I panicked when I didn't hit the floor, but instead kept falling. Darkness encompassed my vision and suddenly everything went very still.

I woke, drenched in sweat and… tears? As I had been trained I didn't open my eyes until I could ascertain the situation was safe to do so.

I felt the familiar weight of my futon blankets covering me. I could also feel Sasuke's smaller form curled up next to mine.

I felt him move slightly and put his cheek against my forehead. "It's ok Niisan…" he murmured tiredly. One of his small hands was entwined in some of the hair of my fringe. The other was gently wiping away my tears.

I gripped the latter and looked up into his eyes. I didn't speak straightaway simply because if I did, the sobbing would begin again.

I already felt ashamed, not to mention embarrassed. Sasuke wasn't supposed to see his Niisan like this… No one was…

Finally I managed to ask, "How long have you been awake for?" I hoped sleep deprivation wouldn't affect his schooling.

"Not that long…" he replied evasively. He shifted so that he was face to face with me. He moved an arm to hug me around the chest.

"Sasuke…" I reprimanded lightly. I could tell he was lying.

"Maybe about two or three hours?" he confessed, sliding down further so that his head was now in line with my chest.

"Sleep now." I said, pulling him closer, "You have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

"B-but Niisan-" I cut him off with a slight glare.

"Sleep." I ordered, a little more forcefully. He mumbled something and raised his arms slightly in a defensive way.

I stroked his hair until his breathing regulated and slowed, indicating sleep.

I felt another warm, salty tear slide down my cheek.

Short, but I think it is important for this chapter to be left the way it is.