Itachi was used to headaches; strenuous use of his eyes meant that they were pretty much a daily expectance. However, this time they were different, or at least more frequent. His usual aches, the ones behind his eyes and at the front of his brain, were still there, but there was a deeper one, at his brainstem, that made it difficult for him to concentrate through any kind of conversation. It was difficult enough to pay attention to Kisame's loud musings but things got a bit more dangerous when it came to listening to Leader. He expected utmost attention; even in incorporeal form Leader commanded a powerful weight and countenance that made it hard to even miss unnecessary words he uttered – if there were any. At the end of the meeting Itachi was sure that Leader was aware of his lack of attention, and he'd most likely hear something about it later.
Itachi withheld a groan as he practically face planted himself into his pillow. Finally, he was alone. Kisame was right next door but at least Itachi didn't have to hide the throbbing pain in his head. Not for the first time he was glad that Kakuzu allowed them enough funds to have their own rooms while out on missions; probably because he didn't want to spend a night or more sharing a room with Hidan.
Again, Itachi groaned as he lifted himself up and rummaged around his robes for his med kit, eager to take something for the pain not only in his head but in his chest. Perhaps he didn't need to hide it. Kisame was well aware of his diminishing eyesight and needn't think the medicine was for anything more but that. Still, Itachi felt it safer to keep things close to his chest, particularly recently.
It had been nearly a month since he'd muddled Ino Yamanaka's memory, and still he found himself wandering nightly in a field of yellow flowers, warmed by the sun pinned to a blue sky. Quickly he noticed that he'd been looking forward to the chance of rest because it meant he'd be able to enjoy something comforting and sunny and so so bright that words seemed to fail him. Alongside those dreams, though, came the headaches, and sleep then became his only refuge from the pain. He felt stupid for all the feelings but was absolutely relieved that even now, in his wreck of a life, he was able to find something peaceful and happy.
It took him a stupidly long time to connect the field of flowers in his dreams with Ino Yamanaka. Denial had been strong and overpowering at the start, but in the end he seceded. There was no denying it. The kunoichi had left an impression upon him that he'd never expected; an impression that had him realising that he thought of her as a capable woman, and not just another female, another person.
Itachi groaned once more, furious with himself. He'd had everything sorted in life until she waltzed into that house and been purely herself; had sighed heavily upon seeing he and Kisame and said with resignation to 'just get it over with'. Truth be told, Itachi wasn't sure why they hadn't killed her on the spot; or at least Kisame. Perhaps the understanding of all three of them just wanting to survive the icy storm dissolved all want of slaughter. He couldn't speak for Kisame, though. Itachi really wasn't sure what the larger man was thinking, or why he was the one who offered her the specially brewed alcohol Kakuzu had ordered and subsequently got pissed about when he found out that the booze was gone.
The point was, Itachi had a gut feeling that those headaches of his were somehow connected to Ino Yamanaka but he didn't know how. Had she done something more to his mind that she didn't tell him about and that he couldn't locate? He found it hard to believe because they'd certainly been very open with each other in the moment, that subterfuge at that time just seemed unlikely. At the same time, Itachi wanted to kick himself for letting his 'feeling' take precedence over fact, and the fact was that Ino Yamanaka was the enemy.
Itachi lowered himself back into the bed, finally beginning to feel the effects of the pain relief kick in. He slipped quickly into his dreamscape, into the land of yellow and blue and warmth. He breathed in the scented air deep and slow, then began his walk through the meadow.
Ino twirled the poppy between her fingers, thumb pads softly caressing the fuzz along the stem. She didn't understand why a weird feeling always settled in her head and heart at the sight of such a simple, common flower. Ever since Shikamaru and Chouji had 'rescued' her from that icy mountain path something felt off, out of place in her body, but she had no clue what it was. Perhaps it was the shame that Shikamaru had bitterly suggested, because it was out of character of her to get herself caught inside an abandoned hut and surrounded by liquor bottles, yet Ino knew herself inside and out. She'd long since gotten past that shame, had accepted the berating of negligence on her part when they'd turned in their mission, and therefore knew that whatever was bothering her wasn't that simple.
The problem, though, was that it had distracted her from her duties around Konoha and in the flower shop for days then afterwards. Ino couldn't help it. Every now and then, in the middle of something, she swore her mind was almost upon revealing to her what she was forgetting before snatching it away and leaving her a clumsy, forgetful mess.
After about a week of said behaviour she was forced to take a short break from her duties, which had helped in some form but not the way she'd like; she'd just gotten used to the feeling. It was enough for her to return to active duty, which was the more important matter. Two weeks later and she'd left her confused musing to personal downtime.
Except the nightmares then began.
Ino sighed heavily, tossing the poppy back into the field around her, and then sinking over her knees to hug them, face buried into them. She'd had plenty of nightmares before but had fought them through proper analysis that seemed to diffuse their intensity. These nightmares were completely different. She still felt the chill of fear in her body, sharp and hot whenever she recalled them, even if only for a moment. Last night's was… bad.
It was dark, her body heavy and pulling her to the floor until she felt like black ooze crawling along the ground. Her fingers were long, whipping at white blurry figures running from her, and she felt a coldness pressing impossibly hard on her heart that she'd woken up gasping for breath. For a brief second she'd still felt the thick ooze over her shoulders as she ran for her bathroom and threw cold water over her face.
Ino lifted her head and watched the dancing flowers around her. They helped calm her. She only hoped they'd calm her for that night because she was actually scared to go to sleep.
Yet the poppies hadn't helped.
Every night for the next week the nightmares were there waiting for her. They were always a monochrome myriad of blurs and shadows, but the emotions associated with them were worse and were always the same. Pain; guilt; pure anguish that had Ino waking up to just wail uncontrollably into her pillow. They tormented every fibre of her being, set her chakra network alight with powerful burning fire she wished would just consume her to ash and be fucking done with it.
She didn't know why she hadn't told anyone at first. She should have known that these nightmares were not just normal ones but it took her seven days and nights to realise that she couldn't dissect those emotions by herself. Ibiki was the first person she'd confided in when she arrived at work at the end of the week. He'd been watching her since her return and she could always tell what he was asking with a simple look he gave. Ino had always confidently told him she could handle whatever was bothering her and he trusted her, but this time, when she met his eyes, her confidence broke and she gave in.
Ino rarely had talks with her former teacher, more because he wasn't a man of many words, or at least words about emotions. He listened, though, and intently at that as she regaled to him her nightmares and how much she could feel them actually weaken her mind and body.
Ibiki did not seem surprised. Once upon a time she knew he'd recite to her the main reason such nightmares haunted a person to the point of absolute collapse, that being post-traumatic stress disorder, but this time he didn't. It hadn't escaped her, either, that the emotions did imitate the symptoms of PTSD, and while she'd experienced many things horrible she'd never felt anything so dark and twisted and gut-wrenching, and certainly nothing recently that would dredge such things up.
Little had been concluded after their talk and Ino had been sent to the hospital under order of Ibiki for sleeping tablets, and that she not return to work again until she'd gotten at least two full nights of sleep.
At first the tablets helped. She slept the first night with only a vague, but harmless, awareness of something dark on the edge of her mind. The next night was not so forgiving. This time things were clearer; she could see faces, terrified and screaming, betrayed. This time she was walking, then running after them, letting their blood stain her blade, hands and sandaled feet. This time the anguish was focused hot and searing in her heart, as if the organ was getting ripped viciously apart over and over again.
This time, when she woke, it was because familiarity dawned upon her.
Ino didn't care it was the middle of the night; she got up, put warmer, outerwear over her pyjamas and made a run for the Uchiha compound. The recent rain had left the untended compound muddy and thick. Her toes quickly became numb as she ran through the slushy soil and passed the broken down buildings and overgrown shrubbery. She skidded to a stop, catching her balance expertly to gaze upon an empty street.
Familiarity tickled her shoulders and she furrowed her brow, ignoring the light misty rain beginning to fall again. That familiarity felt like it was guiding her as she positioned herself like she remembered in her nightmare, faces of scared people flashing in her mind with each step she retraced until she stopped before a house. The front doors were weakened from their hinges, sagging from time and weather erosion. The tree out front had grown up and over the porch, its branches dug deep into the roof tiles to consume the inside.
Ino stepped into the porch, pushing away the thinner tree branches that had shielded the entrance. She blinked, trying to remember more of the nightmare that was beginning to fade from memory. The second she crossed the threshold the tickling familiarity fled her body, leaving her cold and abandoned at the entrance of a ruined house.
Her fingers were red, wet and numb but she couldn't tell if the trembling was because of the cold or because of the implication of her nightmare. She wasn't an idiot; she just didn't understand why she was suddenly experiencing things – memories – of an Uchiha from so many years ago.
An Uchiha she had never met and never wanted to.