Uchiha Itachi, that damn good-looking, fascinating, perfect man, turned Kakashi's life upside down. For 33 years, he had always been aware of himself. He liked things, hated things, loved things – and nothing had ever changed until Itachi came rushing through his life like a freight train and simply messed everything up. Suddenly he liked new things that he had previously detested, loved other things that he had always hated, and he didn't even mind. Before this fateful class reunion, at which he had been unsure until the last minute whether he should go at all, he had very clear ideas about himself, his everyday life and his future. Thanks to Itachi, he was now even questioning whether his tie matched his suit.
Shit, this man had completely confused him. He smiled at a mere morning greeting in the form of a small message, showed Naruto and Sakura much less severity – which they took with the utmost skepticism – and most importantly: he no longer murdered. His bloodlust had become an addiction in the two years since his transformation. He had always associated sexual satisfaction with torn throats, had sought the next high more and more often, although his victims had never really been able to satisfy him. He had blamed it on the climate, the sun, which weakened his powers, but deep down he had always suspected that he simply needed more than that.
Kakashi found this more in the form of Itachi. His lover, no, his boyfriend gave him a feeling he had never felt before. His mere presence filled a void in his soul that he had never known existed. He was complete, happy, even as he traveled the world for the entire month of August – because he knew that there was someone waiting for him, someone he could return to. Every reunion, no matter how long their separation had lasted, whether it was a day, a week or even a month, made Kakashi's heart beat faster. When he wasn't with Itachi, he missed him, and when he was with him, he relished every single second.
But he wanted those seconds to last forever. After three months of a picture-perfect relationship in the land of cotton candy, fate brought a fact to the surface that was irrefutable: Kakashi was immortal, and Itachi was not.
Shocked, Kakashi sat in Itachi's apartment on the armchair, his friend crouched in front of him on the sofa with his shoulders and eyelids lowered. Kakashi had imagined something different under „we need to talk". He had almost assumed that he would cling too much, that Itachi needed a break or something else. But no. He had never expected AIDS.
„I..," Itachi blurted out and suddenly burst into tears. „I never wanted to hurt you, Kakashi. Now you're also.. It was careless of us not to use protection. I should have known better.."
„You couldn't," said Kakashi gently, rising from the chair and coming over to Itachi to calm him by kneeling in front of him and taking his hand. „And Itachi, please, listen to me. You'll be fine. Research in this field has come so far, there are medications and treatments. We're no longer in 1984, where this virus was a death sentence."
Itachi took a sniffing breath and raised his head. „Kakashi, you're much too positive for this world. I know about these medications, that was the first thing I thought of. Only they only work in the early stages and I..." He swallowed hard. „I've had it for a long time, probably caught it during my student days. Shit, I have to tell everyone."
„I'll support you with that."
„No," Itachi interjected. „This is... this is my business and I don't want you to think of me as a... as... a..."
„Itachi, I don't care how many men you've slept with. No number you could name will be higher than mine. I'm the whore in this relationship, not you."
„Thank you... Kakashi, I love you and I'm sorry that I've brought you to such misery. When I think that you too... and because of me..." Itachi chuckled in torment.
Kakashi smiled cautiously, although his head was crying tears into his eyes because he was about to lose the love of his life if he didn't... Should he? But what was stopping him? Kakashi had the opportunity to save Itachi, but he would have to reveal his true nature to do so. He would have to show someone the demon that slumbered within him, the demon that only his victims had ever seen.
It took all of Kakashi's courage to take Itachi's trembling hands and say, „Itachi, I..." How was he supposed to formulate his words? There were no templates for something like this, he just had to hope and trust. „Please listen to me very carefully. You don't have to worry about me with the virus. I'm immune." Itachi's eyebrows furrowed, but Kakashi continued to talk. „This sounds crazy and I can understand if you don't believe me, but it's true. I'm immune to everything and I can give you the same fortune."
„What... do you mean?" Itachi asked quietly, looking all the more confused in his distress.
Kakashi sat down next to Itachi on the couch, presumably also to avoid having to look at him. „Something has happened to me. Someone has done something to me. Please don't ask me how and why, I can't explain it to you. At first I didn't believe it either, but the fact that I died and then wasn't dead after all was... well, proof of the existence of creatures that otherwise only appear in stories. To put it simply: I'm a vampire." Itachi showed no reaction, which surprised Kakashi. „I'm immortal, resistant to any disease. And so will you be. I will give you my blood, which will heal you and make you one of us. You will never experience physical suffering again, I ensure that."
He wanted to stroke Itachi's head when the latter suddenly stood up, marched over to the window and turned to Kakashi with a distorted face. „Who do you think you are?!" he roared, and Kakashi flinched. „I tell you that I'm sick and dying and you know nothing better than to serve me some bullshit? Vampires?! Dammit, Kakashi, how insensitive can a single person be?! This is not about you!"
„Itachi..."
„NO! Stay away from me, you.. you.." Itachi buried his face in his hands, sobbed and said in a low voice, „Go away.. I.. can't bear your presence anymore."
„What?" gasped Kakashi in horror. „Itachi, I meant it completely seriously, I–"
„FUCK YOU, GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" Itachi roared, pulling his tear-stained face out of his hands and glaring at Kakashi in a rage. „You've always used every opportunity to get people to notice you. Nothing was ever more important to you than being the center of attention and knowing that everyone was looking at you. And shit, I fell for it. I was in love with you, Kakashi, from the first day Shimura-sensei sat us next to each other. I always admired you, always looked up to you. Then you disappeared from my life, even though you were never really a part of it; you disappeared from everyone's life, you were successful, you achieved everything. When I saw you again, I realized that my feelings for you hadn't changed. I was just as infatuated with you as I was back then. No, that's a lie, something has changed, because when you showed me that you felt the same way, it wasn't just a crush anymore, it was.. it was.. Fuck, Kakashi, I love you. And you? You're a cold-hearted bastard who's taking advantage of my illness to be the center of attention again. Shit, maybe you even believe what you're saying. Whatever they did to you has driven you crazy. You're insane, mad. I thought you loved me and took me seriously, but now you're coming up with this nonsense and I'm crying like a damn baby in front of you and... No. I don't want that. I don't want you near me anymore."
Kakashi stood up and took a step towards Itachi, but he retreated and Kakashi understood. He lowered the hand he had raised to touch anything of Itachi. „Itachi, please... I love you, I really do. You are the most important person in my life and I don't want to lose you. I told you the truth, I AM a vampire. If you want, I'll prove it to you."
Itachi shook his head slowly. „Get out of here, Kakashi, get out of my life. I have too much to deal with already without your lies. Don't ever show your face around here again."
„Itachi..."
…
„Itachi, please..."
Kakashi hardly noticed his own pleas. Itachi just stood there at the window, no longer moving, no longer looking at Kakashi. At some point, he felt his feet move as if by themselves, carrying him out of Itachi's apartment into the rain and beginning to run. He ran off, not even knowing where he was going. His mind didn't care how foolish he must look – he, a grown man in a suit, running aimlessly through the busy streets of Tokyo because his love had left him and would soon do so for ever. He didn't care about anything. Anything but Itachi. His desperate face had burned itself into Kakashi's brain, the disappointment and anger that had been in his beautiful eyes. It was all over – understandable, he wouldn't have believed it either. How stupid he had been to hope that Itachi would let him come closer.
How stupid.
How incredibly stupid...
A pitiful whimpering reached his ears. His jaw pressed further down, deeper into the luscious flesh. Hot blood ran down his chin and neck as he sank his teeth into the artery one last time, burying them deep between the tendons and muscles, and taking in the sweet juice. The whimpering stopped and it was quiet again around him. No more blood was flowing, she was empty. Or he was, it was irrelevant anyway.
He lifted his head from the now motionless body, laid it back and let the pattering rain wash the blood from his face. That sweet, sweet red... Why had he actually done without it for the last few months? Only when he had heard the crying, the bursting skin and the beloved smacking had he felt that irrepressible thirst again. That hunger for blood and suffering. That was what made him who he was. That was WHAT he was. He was the Beast of Haneda, the monster that tore everything apart. No love, no abstinence. Just the brute force of his supernatural being. A demon of darkness.
People stared at him like a dark apparition as he strode through the night. They avoided his gaze, parted when he approached, whispered. About him? Certainly. But they were unimportant, their existences banal. Only one mattered to him, and that was to preserve at all costs. He would defend himself, and he wanted him to defend himself. He wanted to show him who he was – what he was. He had called him a liar, so he should see the truth.
„Kakashi, I told you not to show your face again. Get–" He didn't get to finish. The creature cut off every further word, grabbed him by the throat and broke whatever there was to break. Still with its claw at his neck, it dragged him further into the apartment, pushed him against the wall and growled with an unmistakable rumbling in the inhuman voice, „I will never disappear. You will stay mine."
His fate was sealed. He spat blood, wheezed, his red eyes looked plaintively into the cold, black ones in front of him. He threw him aside, where he lay gasping for air, feeling his ruined neck. The dark figure rose up over him and he wanted to flee, crawling further towards the living room, silently begging. Without mercy, he stepped over the writhing, almost pitiful prey on the floor, fetched several belts from the bedroom and returned. He grabbed him by the ankles, pulled his delicate figure around and dragged him into the kitchen. He cried, but the demon didn't pay any attention. Instead, he tied the belts together, wrapped them around his feet and heaved him with bestial ease onto the crossbeam above the counter. A single belt tied his hands. He gasped. „K... Ka..," it came from below, he punched him in the face, where his eyes closed.
Brutally, he tore at his hair and forced him into a kiss. There was no passion in it anymore, his lips were cold, numb, dead; no more than a violent plunge into a damp cave that he had once explored so lovingly. No reaction came from him, only a gasp, a rattle and a gush of blood. He greedily licked it from his face. Sandalwood...
Full of pleasure, he let his head spin. Once this had been a scent of sensuality, now it was nothing but another intoxication. „Oh Itachi, you don't know how good you taste. I want everything from you."
He walked around the counter, took a large, long knife from a wooden block that he had used countless times in cooking, and turned it between his fingers. Panicked, red irises scrutinized it, sensing what was about to happen.
„Please don't think that I'm doing this out of hatred or disgust for your words. I just don't see any other way, Itachi. You refused to listen to me, to hear me out. And I just can't stand that. If you had asked me questions, I would have clarified it for you. I would have explained everything to you, made this procedure as painless as possible for you. You know..." He placed the blade against the bare skin, which shimmered so wonderfully bright in the dark apartment due to the shirt that had slipped down. „.. I felt death, and I can tell you, it hurts." He laughed darkly. „But I enjoyed it. I came through it, can you imagine that? That was what saved me. My disturbed brain was the reason for my second, immortal life." The tip of the blade was just below his navel as he bent down to the terrified face. „Do you think you'll come too? Do you want me to give it a try?"
A shake of the head. He didn't like it at all. He pressed the blade into the flesh. Muffled cries, choked by the shattered larynx, sounded and danced in the demon's ears. He pulled the knife out, kissed the trembling lips and ran the tip of his tongue up the naked chest to the wound. Blood flowed towards him and he followed the trail with relish until he finally pressed his swallowing muscle deep into the cut, eliciting new cries of pain.
To his annoyance, he responded no further. No erection, nothing. „You don't seem to be into pain, huh?" he growled, pushing the knife into the quivering body with more force this time. The metal opened this supple skin right next to the hip bone, scraping past it and being diverted from its path. A stifled scream that turned into a whimper. „Too bad. I think I would have gotten bored with you eventually. And that's even though I love you and you'd think you'd have to make compromises for your partner. But would you have done that? Would you have come towards me? Would you have given yourself to me the way I want?" A threatening tone escaped him. „I doubt it. It just shows me that we were incompatible, Itachi. Despite my love for you, our relationship would not have lasted long. Because of you, I gave up killing. You triggered that in me. I felt no urge to murder, and yet I did it again today. And I will do it over and over." He looked down. His cheeks and forehead were red, the blood pulsing audibly in his skull. „Do you understand, Itachi? I'm going to kill you in a moment. Then I'll save you, because you deserve it. You're a wonderful person; it's not without reason that I love you so much that I can't let you go. Your essence must be preserved, for all eternity. Forever with me. You'll understand, trust me. You'll come to me, because you have no other choice. Your thirst will be insatiable and together we will give in to it. Side by side, as it is meant to be."
He gradually began to pull the blade downwards. The tearing of flesh and skin was drowned out by the tortured sounds that were an expression of endless pain, which he could understand all too well. Death had to be cruel, otherwise no one would appreciate life thereafter. The further he effortlessly let the knife slide through the body, the closer he came tothe tears and the wide-open maw, where screams exchanged places with blood. The metal met with resistance; he exerted more pressure and broke open the rib cage, letting each bone crack individually. Shortly before the madly beating organ, which desperately tried to pump its essence of life through its veins, he stopped, leaned forward, whereupon hot blood dripped onto his hair and face, and breathed into his ear, „I love you, Uchiha Itachi, never forget that." With a final tug, he cut through his heart, his tender, generous heart, which should only belong to him.
He gently pulled the knife from his twitching flesh, put it aside, loosened the bonds, causing him to slide into the friendly outstretched arms, and carried him to the place where they had made love so often. He carefully laid his head on the pillows, pushed the intestines back into the gaping hole and folded his hands on his chest. Then he bit his own wrist and held the wound to his dead lips. Their blood mingled, seeping into his mouth and down what had once been an esophagus.
His own injury healed immediately, so he no longer had to worry about that. He sat down on the edge of the bed, began to stroke Itachi's blood-smeared cheek, watching the pale, lifeless face. He was unsure how long the transformation would last. When hehad woken up, it had been morning. Hours?
Something snapped. The larynx had reformed under the skin, which had turned red from the bruise and blood. The Adam's apple protruded again and he caressed it with a smile. A quiet smacking sound announced that the tear on Itachi's torso was contracting, new skin forming and closing over the severed innards. Itachi's chest began to rise, taking quiet, gasping breaths, and he had to smile at himself. He should have expected it, and yet he had flinched like a frightened child. Ridiculous.
Finally, Itachi's eyelids slowly lifted. He blinked, seemed to orient himself, then his irises met the man sitting next to him on the mattress and lovingly touching his cheek. „Welcome back, Itachi," Kakashi said and smiled.