"Cousins, I have the impression that you are getting thinner every day, do you remember to eat sometimes?"
Shisui, between one coat of mascara and another, sitting in front of the mirror in that sort of corridor that the Susanoo dancers used as a shared dressing room, observed Itachi intent on making his tattoo disappear under a thick layer of foundation. Itachi had already spent a lifetime tying that system of black belts around his body, now he would need another even longer one to cover the design.
Since his cousin hadn't even spared him a glance, Shisui had felt authorized to continue with the speech: "Besides, I don't understand why you insist so much on hiding parts of yourself that would literally drive the audience crazy. One is the face and the other is that tattoo."
"Haven't you noticed that Sasuke is here practically every weekend? He strictly sits at the same table and always alone" despite the important revelation he had just made to his cousin, Itachi's voice was a record of tranquility as always.
Shisui almost dropped the mascara brush from his fingers as his mouth dropped open, now he was staring at Itachi with furrowed brows: "Are you really sure?"
Itachi's eyes met him with a sharp expression that said everything without needing to speak.
"I'm sorry if I didn't notice but it's your fault, with this new choreography that we have to do together I don't understand a damn thing anymore. I didn't think Rin was so lustful, in my opinion while she looks at us from behind that counter she gets excited like crazy and then runs home to redo everything with Obito "Shisui got up on purpose to go and feel his cousin's butt with a mischievous smile .
Itachi's angry sigh didn't give him the benefit of the doubt. It goes without saying that Rin was simply trying to get the best out of them. That annoyed behavior made he pretend to address it to him rodent mask placed on the shelf under the mirror: "I should shorten my eyelashes, they come into continuous contrast with the plastic making my eyes water."
"Holy shit, Itachi, don't even say that as a joke. We are forced to put on kilos of mascara to get only half of what mother nature gave you."
Itachi lifted his head to look at his pale face in the mirror. Besides the fact that this was inhumane work, he had created far too many secrets. His partner Nagato was unaware that both he and his half-brother Yahiko worked there, as Sasuke knew absolutely nothing. Itachi had told both of them that he was a security guard but now, after more than four years, the castle of lies was about to collapse. He'd only held up so much because Sasuke was too young to act before, but he'd always been too smart to be fooled.
Forgive me, unfortunately after being forced to abandon my other job, I haven't found anything better. The same goes for Shisui despite pretending to like him.
Itachi sighed in resignation this time as he pulled the elastic out of his hair. He only kept them loose while he was performing and then gathered them back into a low, slow tail so they wouldn't bother him too much. Shisui had often pointed out to him that he could have valued himself more.
What do you want a little hair in the eyes or in the mouth? If you kept them free you'd earn a lot, most people as beautiful as you had them! You could also get a slightly backcombed ponytail after that dull, limp ponytail.
From the jokes that Choji was making, Itachi had understood that soon it would be their turn, so he approached the silver crutch where the stage clothes were hanging, hoping that his cousin would do the same. Yahiko was there in front of him intent on sliding into his red latex pants.
"Itachi, you look fit as always, I see. Be careful how you move or these damn things won't fit anymore" the redhead then looked at him with those brown eyes with purple reflections winking at him. He and Nagato had identical hair, always red but two different shades.
Yahiko also pretends to like this situation. He tries to escape pain by denying when there is no way out.
Itachi had his crutch literally snatched from under his eyes as he was searching for his clothes, his older cousin Obito's face suddenly appeared in front of him.
"Itachi, when your shift is over I want you in my office, I need to talk to you" said this Obito disappeared just as quickly as when he had appeared.
"Damn it, Itachi, when you're there take the opportunity to tell him four. The fact that he's started running this shack doesn't give him the right to behave like this" Yahiko had zipped up his pants with a grand gesture.
The dark-haired answered without even turning around and continuing to look for his clothes: "Unfortunately he has only recently started to take back his life, he hopes that this place can indirectly attract Madara of whom we haven't heard from for years. In the end, it wasn't a totally wrong intuition."
Obito had begun to emerge from the limbo he had entered following the accident after he had found Rin again. He had recontacted her explaining that she had moved away to metabolize the events well.
On the other hand, after the death of both parents, he had changed, the misfortune had taken hold of a ground made fertile by the previous disaster that he had had to witness even too young. Since the black clouds that constantly clouded his gaze inevitably ended up driving people away, Obito had become extremely possessive, making things inexorably worse. The only one who had remained close to him was Madara who, however, had not been free to make his life and to turn his attention to someone else other than Obito. He concentrated his obsessions on that slight scar he had on his eyebrow and on his ocular prosthesis, using them as an excuse and as scapegoats for every setback that happened in his life and in those he had already gone through. In the end, even Madara ended up not making it anymore, literally disappearing from the face of the earth, not even his parents and younger brother had heard anything more. Luckily Rin had called him a couple of weeks later, at a time when Obito was still immersed in the hope that Madara would return after a brief whim; this surely had saved him from committing any further foolishness.
The joy and positivity that arose from that thin and petite woman had brought back his smile and the desire to love both himself and others so much that in the end they got married. However, this did not prevent Obito from feeling guilty towards Madara who had not been traceable even in view of the wedding. That's why he and Rin were using the strangest and most disparate means to find him. Although Obito still had his job as an accountant, he had also taken over the Susanoo where he could only stay on weekends. Rin helped him out by coming up with new choreographies for the dancers and running the bar on the main floor. They both hoped that Madara, even just out of curiosity, could come and visit the club, which is why Rin was always very attentive to anyone who was on the track.
Itachi wasn't flustered at all as he made his way to Obito's office, he just felt terribly exhausted like he did at the end of every evening. He already had a vague idea of what his older cousin would like to talk to him. Despite all that Obito had gone through was perhaps the person who knew him best, he knew that nature had endowed him with a body as beautiful as it was fragile. Unlike the others, he had always known how to look beyond, not just stopping to admire his appearance. After all, Obito had offered him that job also to give him a hand, but if he had found something more suitable, Obito himself would have advised him to go.
Sasuke had now begun to realize the bond that existed between the two of them, he had begun to invest Itachi with an impetuous, impulsive, suffocating, but no less intense and sincere love. These characteristics, on the other hand, were part of his personality since he was very small.
Itachi had opened that door with the phlegmatic but elegant attitude that characterized him when he wasn't on that stage or in the private room performing for someone.
Obito, sitting at the desk in that white and bare room, resting his elbows on it, it was evident that he wasn't busy with anything and that he was there only to witness him.
Itachi walked forward looking into his eyes crossing that nothingness that seemed almost to rumble, the only decorations were a bookcase on the left wall and a large indoor plant and a sofa on the right. A few paintings with stylized drawings and nothing more. As he sat down opposite his older cousin, Itachi wondered for the umpteenth time why night clubs of this type were always built strictly without windows in any room. Hearing the noise of the entrance, Rin had reached her husband through a side door.
"What happened?" the woman knew that when Obito summoned someone to the office it was almost never a good sign.
"In your opinion? He passed out again two nights ago "Obito was answering his wife while his stern eyes remained fixed on his cousin.
Rin had raised a small hand with manicured but mature nails to her lips in a gesture of alarm.
"Itachi, I'm tired of seeing Kakuzu throwing you on the infirmary stretcher like a sack of potatoes. Since your brother started stalking you you've gotten a lot worse, if you can't keep him at bay I'm sorry but I'll have to find a solution."
"Sasuke doesn't recognize me if I cover my face and the tattoo, if he had done that he would have told me without any scruple."
"But in the meantime I can't risk you leaving us penniless due to stress, guilt feelings or I don't know what else!" Obito had raised his voice hitting the desk with both hands.
Itachi didn't bat an eye.
Obito sighed loudly trying to calm down: "Let's not talk about Nagato, Sasuke could tell him that both you and his half-brother work here and then all hell would happen. With this obsession with keeping things hidden you risk dragging us all into chaos. I advise you to tell both Sasuke and Nagato the truth or it will end up coming out in the worst way."
"Okay" Itachi got up so he could finally go home.
He was about to lower the handle when he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders: "I know what problems you have. Take care, okay?"
Itachi took the usual bus every morning, the first one that passed just before dawn. The driver knew him by now but never more than nodded to greet him as if he understood the difficult life of that man. Itachi, in fact, spoke little but his eyes were as if they screamed to compensate for this. Some were able to hear that cry, others passed by it indifferently without hearing it, or, on the contrary, were terrified by it.
Yeah, pain is scary, only someone who really loves you will be able to welcome it and cradle it.
He sank into the seat exhausted muffled in his dark gray double-breasted coat that seemed to have come out of some office usually found in buildings made entirely of glass. He leaned his forehead against the cool window and closed his eyes thinking if he had actually ever found someone capable of understanding him, welcoming him and even cradling him that desperate and eternal cry that arose from his gaze.
Nagato certainly was capable of fully understanding suffering and he was the only one he had known in his life capable of realizing that mere physical pain was worth absolutely nothing compared to that of the soul. And Itachi was experienced in both. The physical one was a constant in his life since he was very small, perhaps he had only been free of it as long as he was in diapers but then the sensation of feeling his chest in a vice had grown with him. After that catastrophic accident that happened due to his distraction under Sasuke's eyes, fainting, respiratory and cardiac crises had begun from which no doctor had been able to extricate himself. He was young then, only thirteen and he was already trying to keep all this hidden from his younger brother so as not to give him any more torment, he swallowed the sedatives they had given him and lay down on the bed with an excuse, however aware that Sasuke was anything but stupid as a result he would have managed to pull all the knots out of the comb sooner or later.
Obito had tried to stay close to them until life had served him well too. Madara, already at the time, was an unfriendly presence, even Sasuke had never seen him except in photos.
Itachi had managed to get by until university also thanks to his strong intelligence which allowed him to always have the highest grades with relatively low efforts. Going out of his way to provide for both him and Sasuke, he had enrolled in philosophy school. At the time Itachi, with a very sporty nature, had been noticed by a talent scout while he was training in a park, he was hired as a trapeze artist in a company of acrobats. Taking advantage of that period in which the physical problems seemed to have given him a break, he worked hard, learning practically immediately. Itachi seemed to have been born especially for this job, so he often went to do shows on television and was in great demand. His slim, supple and graceful body from birth was opening the door for a promising career for him.
That very thin boy with wine-red hair that hid half his face, spontaneously sat down next to him at the table. Itachi had noticed that for days already those very strange but beautiful violet-tinged eyes of his were observing him with the most understanding expression he had ever seen.
"Do you only eat this?" he asked looking for a moment at his tray with only three onigiri on it, his voice was very scratchy and incisive although he tried to keep the volume low.
The redhead's face was calm and peaceful yet in a different way than Itachi's. The dark was closed in on himself, intent on keeping the emotions double-locked inside himself, while the red seemed more aimed at transmitting this serenity towards the outside.
Itachi let out an imperceptible sigh, however certain that the other had picked it up: "I'm not very hungry."
Nagato had limited himself to introducing himself and inviting him to his house to study since they had discovered that they were both enrolled in the first year of philosophy, then he had gone away to let him eat with the exhausting slowness that had always characterized him.
In the house of the red there were no sofas, chairs and desks, he loved to read and study lying on the floor among clouds of cushions and soft duvets.
"Come on, let's take a break" Nagato had proposed after about three hours of repeating the book to each other: "Close your eyes."
The dark-haired man obeyed, feeling the other's hand starting to massage his chest. Nagato waited to feel the other's muscles and breath relax before starting to speak: "Pain invades you overwhelmingly and completely, draining everything from you, even your smile. You also feel it in your stomach like a balloon and that's why you always eat so little. You know the physical one too, I see it, but it disappears in front of the suffering of the soul. Physical pain is easily silenced, just swallow a few pills or give yourself a few days of rest. Psychological torment is also devastating because it often goes unnoticed. You have decided not to let it out of you perhaps to protect those around you, you believe that no one can read your face, but every now and then something escapes you, a look, a gesture, a sigh. Someone runs away from this, others understand but don't know what to do. I don't know what happened to you to give you so much trouble but I know what pain is, that's why I welcome it and respect it."
Itachi had managed to relax completely in Nagato's hands, he'd been waiting for words like these more or less all his life, albeit unconsciously. People usually only realized that he was in pain when he collapsed following a sudden twinge in his chest, but they didn't realize what his heart was actually feeling and the guilt that crushed it. They couldn't get over the fact that running to the various doctors remained almost useless. Itachi He always chose the things to say with the utmost care, especially in front of Sasuke, always ready to catch the emotions of others to the detriment of his own. The dark-haired had always been convinced that his feelings were of no interest to anyone, but now Nagato was looking for them as if they were extraordinary and precious gems. For Itachi, losing control had always been unacceptable, almost a terrible shame, but that day he loosened the reins so much that he fell asleep sweetly among that cloud of feathers. As he drifted off to sleep he let out a smile, Nagato thought that in that moment he was beautiful like all the rare things in the world.
Nagato had been the only one who didn't just look at him for his outward appearance, he was concerned that he fed and rested enough. Every morning he waited for him to have breakfast together and for this he too got up very early so that everything was ready when Itachi crossed that threshold.
They had been living together for two years now after a story that was born and grew slowly. The decision had been made in the penultimate year of university for both of them.
Nagato seemed to have waited for Itachi to be ready to open his heart to him and the fact that they had moved in together shortly after having told him about the incident that happened when he was little, had prevented the dark-haired from regretting bitterly having revealed something so delicate for the first time time. Itachi had never happened that someone was able to listen to him and continue to love him even after knowing everything.
When he fell prey to some illness, Nagato didn't toss him from one doctor to another hoping to find the magic wand or the miracle pill. He lay down with him under the covers, caressing him until he slipped into sleep, explaining to him that love was the one and only medicine for pain, the real and devastating one.
A little over a year after both of them graduated, Itachi sat in front of his partner every morning with an ever bigger boulder crushing his heart. Nagato knew nothing about his work at Susanoo. Like Sasuke, he believed that the dark haired, following the accident that had just cut short his brilliant career as a trapeze artist who had just begun full-time, was working as a security guard around the city.
Itachi claimed to have his gun kept inside the bag he always carried with him, it actually contained tricks and props, including his rodent mask and leather belt system. Nagato's curiosity to see the weapon had been immediately curbed by the dark haired who had stated that, being defective, there was the risk of a shot being fired by mistake.
Itachi made an effort to swallow pancakes, biscuits or cakes that Nagato prepared with his own hands to offer him every morning when he returned from a night's work. Having in front of that pale, ethereal and almost evanescent face hidden by the hair with the awareness of betraying him every day, was for the dark-haired a stab increasingly difficult to bear.
He's right Obito, but how do I muster up the courage to smack the truth in your face?
Itachi couldn't have said if this stemmed from being totally a coward since even Nagato had had the big pain in his life, for this he was careful not to make him suffer even more.
So, after a few mouthfuls, Itachi forced himself to smile at him saying he needed to rest and retired to the bedroom curling up under the covers. Nagato stretched his lips a little, nodding slightly, however lately a light had begun to appear in his eyes that was increasingly in contrast with what the facial muscles forced themselves to communicate. This was demonstrated by the fact that he no longer went to hug Itachi to pieces, both inside and out, under the covers, even just for that quarter of an hour he had before going to the office.