Erebus on the Cusp of Dawn

by Hic Iacet Mori

Silence plays music to entice truth to speak—in return truth shatters silence into irretrievable pieces. Then silence falls with crystal shards of truth, lodging in the hearts of the admirers of its music and hurting wherever it lands. This is the price silence pays, the price a truth claims—it hurts who breaks the silence, and it hurts who hear its truth.

"It's obvious, don't you think?" she commented, eyes askance. He should have expected the answer—it was obvious, like she said. But to accept it?

There were many things in the world that he knew. He knew that the ice caps are melting. He knew that the Loch Ness monster is a hoax. He knew that justice is rarely served. It didn't mean he had to accept everything he knew, though. Just as how obvious it was, the answer to his question—like he had known all along—didn't mean he was ready to accept it. Not yet. Not now. Maybe not ever.

It isn't truth that men fear but the realization it brings.

"How do you know me?"

Sasuke knew her in an intellectual level—she was the cabbage girl who haunted his brother's headstone, who had watched him for more than a month now through his window without his knowledge, who was currently sitting on the darkest corner of his room talking about how obvious the answer was. She was the blonde idiot who liked to hide in the shadows who seemed to be worshiped by the darkness, the blue-eyed moron who had humiliated him with how easily she had held him against the tree, who had made him wonder everytime how she could stand or sit so loud and bright for one second and vanish on the next right before his eyes, even when he knew she was still there, was still standing or sitting, only silent and dark now and concealed from his sight, his mind. It was like knowing he had a right hand but not seeing it, even when he was waving it right before his very eyes, even when he was slapping himself with it—it was one of the strangest things he had ever seen her do, one of the many things only he had seen her do.

Like darting from the tree to his wall to his window like some computer game character—it still amazed him whenever she did that. One time he had told her to just use his door, but she simply flashed her now familiar cheeky grin and answered, "But it's more awesome when I go through your window. Like a ninja!" before exclaiming that "Parkour's got nothing on me" because she was so much more than any traceur the whole world over. She then proceeded to jump from his window and climb back up by running on his wall, but not before running halfway up and landing to terra firma with a series of butterfly kicks.

Bragging dumbass. Show-off.

She could run and jump so swiftly, so effortlessly, graceful and untouchable, then grin so smugly at his hidden awe and envy before tripping on one of his books lying on the floor in a classic blonde moment. She would then jump up, suddenly human, within his reach, cursing and pouting as much as she could while accusing him of ruining her dynamic entry. She would then flit around him, talking about random things like any person he would normally turn away from did, and then her voice would get lower and lower until she was silence, until she was life fading away, until she was the shadow in the corner, until she was darkness.

"It's called effacing, bastard."

Until she became the phantom he never really knew.

And it was this knowledge that made him ask. Maybe from her answer, he could know her a bit more—and know how she knew him too. He was selfish, he wanted to learn more.

How did she know him? Simple. It was obvious, like she said, like he knew all along—

His brother told her about him.

But it wasn't so simple, really. Because while he could intellectually accept it, he couldn't do so deep within him. His brother rarely trusted—sometimes, he wondered how far their parents' death affected Itachi, if hardly trusting anyone was one of its effects—but he himself barely trusted people. So for his brother to trust this girl enough to speak of him? There was no way, Sasuke knew, no way in heaven, in hell, or anywhere in between Uchiha Itachi would speak of his younger brother unless he trusted the person implicitly, completely.

And for her to receive this level of trust...

Unless she was lying—and she had yet to give him a reason for him to distrust her—this revelation was amazing in its own way. It made him wonder, though. What, exactly, was her relationship with his brother?

"You're his favorite topic," she said through the silence that had stretched between them, a silence stretching through the ocean of years. Her voice was in an almost whisper, with nary a pitch or inflection—as if she was reciting a sonnet in the blank canvas of her voice, carefully hiding all traces of feelings to get a feel for those of the recipient of her words.

"Otouto is on the top of his class once again... He loves tomatoes but he loves onigiri with okaka best. He probably doesn't remember it anymore but okaa-san used to make it for him... Otou-san would have been very proud that he decided to become a detective—Otouto is the best person to follow in his footsteps... He managed to sneak up on me. He's not quite up to my level yet but he's becoming faster, more certain. I see his potential to surpass me. He is very stealthy now, in fact. He will need it someday... Otouto had found a new confectionery by the seaside. The pâtisserie beside it has exceptional crème brûlée. He was grimacing after I forced him to take a bite. He hates sweets..."

His eyes stung with her every word. With every parting of her lips, he could hear his brother speak. It wasn't supposed to happen.

"He used to be so shy and passive, and adorable as well... I poke him in the forehead so he would look into my eyes, because he has nothing to hide and he must be proud of himself. He is an Uchiha, my brother, and he must hold his head high... I wish to see who he becomes but I know he will turn out fine. He is, after all, my dear otouto... I believe you two will be very good friends. Perhaps, someday..."

His body shook. With every lift of her lips, he could see his brother smile. It wasn't supposed to be like that.

"If something happens to me, please watch over him. He is sometimes so involved in his dreams he forgets to live..."

His heart ached. With every breath from her lips, he could see his brother breathe. It wasn't supposed to end.

"And," she said, appearing in front of him, kneeling before him with an unbelievably tender expression that wrenched at his heart, his soul, "I promised I will."

It wasn't supposed to hurt.

The world is breaking, he thought. Breaking right before his eyes as the words sank in, as the truth swept into him. Itachi was dead. He wasn't coming back. There would be no more fond smirks, no more teasing glances, no more gentle reminders, no more affectionate pokes to his forehead. There would be no more days when he'd open the door to be surprised by his brother who never seemed to age at all. There would be no more sunsets they could watch together as they sip their tea, no more nights where they could talk and bask in each other's presence until one or both of them fell asleep on the couch, on the porch, on the bed, on the tub, on the table, on the shogi board, on the roof. There would be no more fights over the last onigiri, no more sneers at the pathetic heroes in their favorite drama, no more rude spoilers to ruin each other's books. He would never hear the quiet laughter anymore. Never feel the annoying soft brush on his hair. Never see the silent gaze that expressed love far better than any words could.

His brother was gone.

Gone.

He was breaking. Breaking from the soundless sobs tearing his body apart.

Never coming back.

He would never see Itachi ever again.

"Teme..."

That night, Uchiha Sasuke finally opened his eyes, black and red and dry, breaking in the arms of a stranger with broken blue skies in her eyes.

Listen as silence plays, hear its broken music. Truth comes in its wake and breaks every heart with its voice.