Disclaimer: Naruto is not mine, no copyright infringement intended, I'm just a senseless girl with too much caffeine, a laptop and a mad love for two anime boys.
Also, for additional flavouring: "Open Water" by Thrice really, really sets the mood for what this chapter tries to evoke.
Ten thousand men sleep down with Davy Jones;
with stolen treasure they tithe.
The open water chills me to my bones,
but it's the only place that I feel alive.
The open water is my only fear,
but I'll sail as long as I still have breath in me.
I'm starting to believe the ocean's
much like you,
because it gives
and it takes
Away.
"Open Water" by Thrice
Disenchanted
By
JD01 (Emerald Lies)
CHAPTER TEN:
The First Interlude
Itachi never really wanted a little brother.
He didn't want a little sister either. He didn't see the point in adding a member to the family. Babies were pretty useless anyways; it took them practically two decades to become independent, fully functioning, contributing members of society. Far more than most species. They cried a lot, in that shrieking, ear-drum bursting high pitch. They pooped and made miserable little faces when they weren't understood— which was pretty often, since they couldn't use any sensible form of language. They were such... invalids. It's not that Itachi wanted to abolish babies altogether— he was all for the continuation of humankind. He just didn't care much for them.
He was sure he had been the same babbling pile of drooling mess at some point in his life too, but luckily he didn't have any recollection of that period in his life.
No, Itachi never wanted a little brother.
But unfortunately, he didn't have much control over his parents' procreating urges.
So when, one July morning, his parents waltzed home with a tiny bundle in their arms, Itachi didn't bother looking up from his Academy homework.
"Itachi, we have someone we'd like you to meet," his mother ushered him gently, cradling the bundle in her arms. His father stalked to the master bedroom without saying a word. He wasn't much interested in this baby business either.
"Hn," Itachi continued writing in his little notebook, unconcerned.
"Itachi, don't you want to see Sasuke?" Mikoto asked, taking a step towards her older son. She crouched beside him, bringing the slumbering baby to his level. Itachi paid no heed to his mother.
"No," he answered honestly.
His mother lingered beside him for a bit longer, taken aback by his complete disregard for his younger sibling. No excitement. No jealousy. No fondness. No sense of kinship. No emotion whatsoever. Eventually, when Sasuke began crying, Mikoto slowly got up, a bit unsure.
The next few days, his mother desperately tried to bring up Sasuke every chance she got. She would make breakfast and talk about everything Sasuke did. She would serve dinner and spew her hopes and dreams for Sasuke. She would tuck Itachi in bed and share how much she hoped Sasuke and he would get along. Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke. She would then always stare at Itachi expectantly— waiting, hoping, praying for some minuscule sign of interest. Something, anything other than that cold glaze of indifference Itachi always wore. But Itachi just did not care.
"Itachi, I have to pick up a few things at the market," his mother said one afternoon, a few months later.
Itachi was in the yard, target practising with his shurikens. He nodded.
"Itachi, come here," his mother called over, standing by the patio door with Sasuke in her arms. Itachi sighed and reluctantly complied. Putting his shurikens down, Itachi jogged towards his mother.
"I have to pick up a few things at the market," she smiled. Mikoto had a pretty smile. Itachi liked it.
"Hey, put your arms up." Itachi obliged. "Here, like this," his mother corrected his arm positioning, placing them horizontally, one arm slightly higher than the other. She looked up and ruffled Itachi's long dark hair, smiling in that beautifully serene way of hers. She then gently placed the baby in his arms. "Hold Sasuke, I'll be back soon."
"I don't want to," Itachi frowned, staring at the yawning baby he got tricked into holding.
"That's not nice. Sasuke has been dying to meet his amazing big brother," Itachi wanted to argue that Sasuke probably didn't have any conscious thoughts yet and most likely didn't know who his brother was or what a 'brother' consisted of for that matter. But his mother smiled down at him, beaming with such hopeful brilliance, Itachi sighed and clamped his mouth shut. "I'll be back in ten minutes tops," she whispered, kissing his forehead, before bending down and softly kissing Sasuke's.
The baby cooed. The little bugger liked the attention.
When Mikoto left, Itachi heaved another big sigh and plopped down on the deck.
"You're annoying," Itachi muttered, glancing down at the tiny little creature nestled in his arms.
Sasuke blinked. He was bundled up so tightly in the blanket, his arms were barely visible. He was such a tiny little thing, with the smallest little fingers and the tiniest button nose. So small, so fragile. When he yawned, he scrunched up his entire face. Itachi could break him in a second if he wanted. So vulnerable. His skin was so creamily pale, like a porcelain doll. Sasuke just blinked. Slowly. Closing his eyes, with his long, curved, dark lashes fanning on his cheek, and then opening to reveal his big, round, dark, dark eyes. Sasuke stared back up at him, curious. Blink, blink. Sasuke was fascinated by him, and Itachi couldn't tear his eyes away. Dark, dark, so dark, they sucked you in. Teased, tempted you with all the layers of mystery hidden beneath the glaze of complete blank innocence. So dark, Itachi could barely make out the pupils. Sasuke opened and closed his tiny pink mouth, his dark eyes fixated on Itachi. He was beautiful, like Mikoto's smile. Perfect. Perfect eyes, that's what Itachi thought as he brought a hand to caress the baby's porcelain skin. Sasuke cooed.
"Thank you, Itachi," he suddenly heard his mother opening the patio door, startling him out of his stupor.
Had it been ten minutes already? Hadn't she just left?
"I'm sorry that took longer than I expected, I can take him back now," Mikoto huffed breathlessly, as she bent down to scoop Sasuke up.
Itachi just continued staring at his baby brother.
"Itachi?" Mikoto called out softly, brushing her son's bangs out of his eyes.
He just brought his arms closer to his chest.
He never wanted a little brother.
But maybe it wasn't so bad.
XXX
Sasuke was quite unlike anybody he knew, quite unlike anybody in the Uchiha clan— a lot like his mother, actually, but with more freedom, more careless innocence that comes with being a child.
Every evening, when he would come back home, there would be— without fail— the excited pitter patter that would increasingly grow louder until he was throttled by a teeny weeny little body.
"Aniki!" Sasuke would squeal.
His big, brown eyes would gleam with sheer glee. Itachi found it so strange. Nobody ever looked at him like that before. Nobody ever looked at him with complete, unconditional adoration. Nobody, but Sasuke.
Then Sasuke would proceed to press his cheek against Itachi's own real hard. That was Sasuke's quaint way of kissing. Sasuke would leap off his lap and firmly take his hand, tugging him to his playroom. He was a very bossy child.
He would spend the entire evening babbling about his day, as he put his toys back in their rightful place. Their mother demanded that Sasuke's room be spic and span before supper. Itachi would just sit crossed legged on the floor, much to Fugaku's displeasure. Their father would often scold Sasuke for eating up Itachi's precious time with his nonsense, but Itachi never got up to leave and always waited for Sasuke to finish his tale. Sasuke's days weren't very interesting. Itachi listened anyways.
When Sasuke got a bit older, gone was his carefree, cheery disposition. Like every Uchiha son, Sasuke gradually became desperate, practically obsessed with their father's approval. Itachi found it amusing how hard Sasuke tried to act like a proper Uchiha man when he was but a child. He would cross his arms over his chest and glare with every single one of his facial muscles, it looked more like he had just eaten something incredibly sour than an intimidating glare.
Sasuke followed him around like a puppy with big, bright eyes full of admiration. But whenever Itachi would swiftly turn back, the boy would shake his head and replace his doe-eyes with a very forced grimace, but a second too late— Itachi always managed to catch a glimpse. His kid brother was so foolish.
Itachi saw the way the boy's spirit was crushed under the heavy weight of their father's expectations. Sasuke was confused. He couldn't decide if he adored Itachi or if he was direly jealous of him. Itachi thought it was unfortunate that his little brother spent so much time and energy on trying to achieve perfection, when Sasuke was already so... special— a word Itachi did not use lightly. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, he couldn't quite decipher just what exactly made Sasuke seem so different from everyone else in Konoha. Was it something he did? Something he said? Itachi just knew that when he saw those big, dark eyes light up with so much life whenever he walked into a room, Itachi transformed into a different person altogether. Different. Better. Nicer.
"Sorry Sasuke, maybe next time."
He would poke his forehead and Sasuke would pout.
His gaze would fall to the floor, his hopes dashed.
Sometimes, Sasuke would pester him a bit more, but it would lose all its edge, all its strength.
And Itachi caught himself caring. He cared. He cared for this little, tiny, crushable human being. He cared so much that everytime Sasuke's face fell at every broken promise, Itachi wished that he could be the kind of brother who never broke his promises. Oh, how he wished. He wished and wished from the bottom of his heart. And maybe that's what made Sasuke so special. It wasn't that Itachi was any different, it was that he made Itachi want to be different. Different. Better. Nicer.
So when he swiftly pulled the blade out of their mother's chest, and her body collapsed onto their father's, lifeless, there was a moment. Or well a flash, really. A foreseeing flash of the chain of events that would ensue.
They say that you are a culmination of the defining moments in your life. Defining moments; moments that mold you, shape you, change you into the person you are today. Moments that no amount of time could erase from your psyche, that no amount of words could undo. The scars of your soul.
Pitter patter. Pitter patter. Pitter patter.
Itachi calmly looked over his shoulder, easily heaving the blood-soaked sword onto his back.
The little boy's whole body quaked with such violence, his feet gave out from beneath him. He collapsed to his knees. His big, dark eyes, moving fervently, savagely. They drank in the scene, gleaming from the wild tears sprouting down his cheeks.
Itachi just stared impassively. It's a peculiar thing, Itachi thought, to look into someone's eyes and witness the exact Defining Moment you destroyed every inch of humanity in them.
The exact defining moment you change the brilliant, expressive eyes of a child into empty shells. The eyes of a walking carcass. The defining moment, when you ravage his innocence, leaving him to be just a damaged, broken bundle of flesh.
Damaged. Broken.
Somewhere deep inside, Itachi wished he was the kind of brother who didn't grievously strip his kid brother of stability, who didn't rob him of love, of family, of his ability to trust.
XXX
The first time he encountered Sasuke after that Defining Moment, Sasuke wasn't a day over eleven.
He had grown in stature— a small, slightly effeminate frame in big, baggy clothes. His hair was the same, a bit longer, but still styled in that odd duck-butt way their mother loved to make for him.
But the first thing Itachi had noticed was how Sasuke's eyes had changed.
Angry, so viciouslyangry. Animalistic. Yes, that was the right word. Animalistic eyes.
Dark pools of that sucked one into oblivion.
So much aggressiveness and rage...
And yet, so terribly lost and lonely
Sasuke charged straight at him. Itachi broke his wrist effortlessly. He then trapped him in a genjutsu, much to Kisame's delight. That day, he broke Sasuke over and over and over again.
When Kakashi swept in for the big save a few minutes later, Sasuke had already relived Hell, his defining moment, a couple hundreds of times.
"Let's finish them," Kisame bared his fangs.
Kakashi pushed his hitai-ate out of his eye, unmasking his Sharingan. The man meant serious business.
"We have a boy to find. Let's go," Itachi dismissed the fight, vanishing. He had other more important matters to tend to. Kisame growled, but reluctantly complied.
But as Itachi leaped through the trees, he allowed himself a look behind.
The boy's body had collapsed into Kakashi's strong arms. He was trembling, his eyes unfocused, glazed. Kakashi gently swept the bangs out of the catatonic boy's face. Gently, almost... lovingly.
That's when it struck him. Maybe, Itachi thought, maybe Sasuke's eyes could go back to the way they were after all.
"Come on, hurry up," Kisame said gruffly, drawing Itachi's attention back to the task at hand.
It was instantaneous. Itachi knew it instantaneously in a dizzying light-bulb moment. As soon as they arrived near the Academy, the second he laid eyes on him, Itachi knew. Him. The lone boy in the corner of the training ground that no other kid wanted to play with, the boy with the most radiant blond hair he had ever seen. The boy flicked his eyes to the sky— that's when Itachi caught a glimpse of blue, blue, sparkling blue, but terribly lonely eyes. Itachi couldn't look away. Intantaneously, he knew. This was the one they were looking for.
Naruto Uzumaki.
XXX
The second time he encountered Sasuke, a few years later, it was a fluke. He never planned on coming across his brother in the Wave Country.
So he broke four of his ribs, and just when he was about to break a fifth, he was interrupted by an obnoxiously loud cry of rage.
"Leave Sensei alone!" boomed the a loudmouth, in that irritatingly wavering pitch that prepubescent boys oft had.
An army of wild-haired blonds swarmed into view. Clones, all with the same blue, striking blue eyes. Determined. Furious. Alive. Those eyes.
Naruto Uzumaki. Always so memorable.
In a flash, before Itachi could act, Sasuke carelessly jumped in front of the army of that foolish blond boy, throwing himself in front of the child protectively. Or well, idiotically, really. Itachi could have seamlessly killed the both of them in a heartbeat. Effortlessly. But Sasuke's sharingan was pointed directly at Itachi, fearless. Stupidly fearless. That's when it dawned on Itachi this was a boy his foolish little brother was willing to die to protect.
What was the relationship between the both of them?
Itachi disappeared into thin air, musing over this new development.
XXX
The third time he met Sasuke, his brother had blossomed into a fully grown man of imposing stature. Handsome. Tall, dark and mysterious. Strikingly beautiful. Everything an Uchiha clansman should be. It occurred to Itachi how tearfully proud their mother would have been, if she could set eyes on the man her precious baby boy had become.
Itachi looked right into his angry, lost, broken eyes.
"We need to talk."
Sasuke flung himself at Itachi, Chidori buzzing in his left hand.
XXX
The fourth time he met Sasuke, he only saw him from a distance. Itachi was preoccupied with cradling the unconscious blond in his arms. He didn't have much time to perform the jutsu.
Sasuke's face drained of all color the moment he realized just who Itachi was holding. Horror-stricken, Sasuke made a mad dash through the sandy fields.
Sasuke was fast, but not fast enough.
Their eyes locked for but a mere second, but that was enough for Itachi.
His eyes never changed back, Itachi noted with some semblance of regret. Still such a hurricane of hatred and rage whirling over a layer of sheer broken apathy.
Lonely, so lonely. Always lonely.
The eyes of a man who can't bring himself to live, who can't bring himself to love.
After all these years, Sasuke was still so damaged and broken.
XXX
Itachi stood on the hefty rock, overlooking the ocean. The air had a heavy musk to it. Itachi apathetically noted the grey clouds looming about them. Kisame swam to his heart's content, unconcerned. It was about to pour any second now.
Itachi closed his eyes.
Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, for a moment, it would all flash through his mind. Screenshots. Like a movie.
There'd be Sasuke.
Sasuke smiling. Sasuke laughing, like he would when he was just a little boy, like when he would jump to greet him home. Sasuke growing up, Sasuke growing old. Sasuke married, Sasuke with beautiful black-haired babies. Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke. Sasuke glowing. Sasuke peaceful.
Like the Sasuke he held in his arms for the very first time so many moons ago.
He imagined the Sasuke that was supposed to be, but the Sasuke that never was.
Sasuke with fulgent, dark eyes. Alive. Burning, with the scorching fire of a thousand stars.
And then Itachi would open his eyes, and the moment was gone, as if it never happened.
Itachi looked up at the sky. The rain cried down on him.
His arms wide open, embracing.
Between the devil and the deep blue sea,
I stare into the abyss.
The open water is an awful thing,
But I'm anxious till the anchor is aweigh.
I'm starting to
believe the ocean's
much like you,
because it gives
and it takes
Away.
There is this amazing, ridiculously talented reader who has gifted Disenchanted with its very FIRST FANART. The link is on my profile, it is mouth-wateringly gorgeous and you guys should definitely check it out and tell her just how UNEFFINBELIEVABLY TALENTED she is!
Thank you, thank you, thank you starlightdevil, I am so humbled by your precious gift.
Thanks for reading, duckies.
Now, please enjoy the day and GO ROLL IN GRASS, weeheee.
JD.