You don't need who knows what big events or changes to feel like new people, most of the time everything starts only from our head when we realize we're ready. Kisame now felt on the springboard of life, absolutely nothing around him had changed. In the morning when he woke up, Deidara and Karin had already left, leaving the blanket he had given them neatly folded and a yellow note on the table in front of the sofa. As it bore his name it was clearly addressed to him.

Well woke up, Kisame.

Your hospitality was as unique as your generosity and thoughtfulness always have been. You warmed our hearts and pleasantly surprised in your simplicity, these are the people who remain the most impressed, it seems strange to say but it is true. We are sure that very soon your heart too will find the warmth it deserves. See you later at the gym, we promise to be serious from now on.

Deidara and Karin.

Ah… and of course don't you dare miss our wedding, we look forward to meeting you two for that day!

These few lines had the ability to elicit a sincere smile from Kisame. Nothing had changed around him, he had woken up alone again, there was again only him sitting at the breakfast table and it had always been over a month since he had heard from Itachi. But now he rejoiced in the new light he had born within him thanks to his friends who had made him open his eyes. Silence and solitude no longer seemed to him as dense and boundless as they had been before talking to Nagato, now he could live in the certainty that, sooner or later, he would see their end, it didn't matter when there would be a wait.

Kisame felt satisfied in front of the mirror as he arranged his ultramarine hair in that cut that he had decided on in his youth but that he would probably hear about him for the rest of his life. He was about to grab his gym bag to go to the job he loved so much when someone rang the bell in the street.

At first he had thought of Deidara that perhaps he had forgotten something, but the fact that that person had presented himself without making any noise made him immediately abandon the idea, the blond was such an earthquake that he managed to be recognized even before being view. Kisame's heart began to gallop without asking his permission and without confirmation, even before the brain was able to recognize that hope that was slowly beginning to emerge.

You pressed that key softly…

Was it really Itachi at the gate? In that case Kisame would have had to engage in a tough fight with himself to avoid passing out. He swallowed trying to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat, even though his legs had become soft and trembling he had to know. Maybe that day his life would finally change forever.

This is a positive change, I've been waiting for it forever, so why do I feel this way?

A new and irresistible energy pushed him out into the sun, he almost ran, the intense morning light dazzled him to the point of almost taking away his sight, the glare of the white paved driveway did the rest. As he approached the gate the images gradually cleared, yes it was Itachi. Impossible not to recognize his raven hair, this time he kept it loose. That was the very white complexion. He evidently had recovered, he looked less thin than he had looked last time. Kisame proceeded spreading his arms and smiling, he seemed to walk lifted off the ground by a few centimetres, the sun rained down on him in warm silver streaks. Itachi had changed his hair slightly, his right eye was hidden behind a long strand, it looked much thicker than usual. To tell the truth, Kisame had never seen anyone have so many.

Damn, it must be at least five kilos of stuff!

That had been the thought of a 15-year-old who was seeing his school rep for the first time. The silver cascade of sun had turned into an icy snowfall, Kisame's smile faded away while that of the other was always pleasant, calm, understanding with the power of accentuating the slightly swollen lower eyelids making the face even more attractive. It was not possible, Kisame had been waiting in vain for years for news of him and his return as well as the rest of his family. He opened the gate eliminating the last barrier that separated them.

"Kisame…"

Madara's eyes were watery, his lips trembled, he tilted his head to the side exposing her right eye. He had spoken his name almost in a whisper. Kisame was petrified in front of the only person who had ever said I love you in his entire life.

They had embraced and that's it without asking many why. Kisame's hands had sunk into that thick hair that began to be crossed by several white threads, he had felt Madara tremble and then lay his head in the hollow of his right shoulder. Kisame's dark blue shirt, perfectly matched with his hair, was wetted by a few drops of salt.

They had released their embrace, Kisame accompanied Madara into the house as if not a single day had passed. He hoped that some fresh water would calm him down even though he was aware that in cases like that maybe much more would be needed. But it was eight in the morning.

They sat side by side on the sofa, Madara kept his eyes fixed on the floor taking small sips from the glass that Kisame had offered him, his hand was shaking. He had hardly changed at all apart from the slight wrinkles that now marked his face without however taking away the charm and beauty that had always characterized him, Kisame looked at him but he was with his head bowed half hidden by his hair. He was dressed simply and soberly, jeans and a white linen shirt.

Madara had raised his head to look at his friend, his face looked exhausted, his eyes swollen and red. Kisame could read his inner struggle characterized by strong emotions, surely it had started some time before that day. However Madara's gaze always remained as penetrating and magnetic as it once was, Kisame felt like a bolt of lightning was passing through it. A feeling similar to when he had seen him wink at that previously unruly and rowdy class of which he had been a part.

It was for you.

"Madara, your family hasn't rested since you disappeared, and neither have I. Obito and Rin did everything to be able to find you, they even started running a nightclub hoping you'd end up there by chance" Kisame had decided to start talking to break that stone wall in which he was imprisoned, he also wanted to lose that dazed expression he had with his mouth half open.

"I know," Madara murmured with a hint of a smile that quickly disappeared from his mouth as he let out a heartbreaking sigh "Obito and Rin already know everything, even my brother Izuna. He too came to town and right now he is a guest in their house like me. Itachi was forced to work there for years despite his health problems to look after his younger brother, and so was Shisui. He'll talk to Itachi, Sasuke and Shisui. To be honest the youngest he doesn't even know me, if they've never shown him any pictures of me he doesn't even know what I look like. But you came first, Kisame, leaving you aside has been impossible for me over the years."

"I didn't even know you had a brother, Madara. You never told me about your family apart from Obito." Kisame was displaced, he knew that sooner or later the discussion would get to the point, however he tried to postpone that moment as much as possible to prepare at least psychologically.

"In fact, I never told you about him, my distance also served to develop my relationship with him."

Madara had decided to start his story and he knew very well, even after all those years, where the shortcomings he had had with Kisame had been. He had never told him about his childhood and youth, about the relationship with Izuna and Obito, the pain he had to endure when the former kept him at a distance and the latter fell in love with Rin. Now it was finally clear the reasons why he, despite loving him, had made Kisame suffer during their relationship and why he had had to move away in order not to succumb.

The younger one had often felt his eyes widen during the story, he felt them fill with tears. He understood now for the first time that I love you had been sincere like nothing in his life, it was a lost love for both. Madara had had a difficult life since he was a child. This made Kisame feel guilty for having doubted their bond, for having demanded what Madara, always caught between different fires, hadn't been able to give him certainly not out of malice. Madara had also suffered a lot seeing Kisame dissatisfied, he was confessing it to him now while his black eyes couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

Inside himself Kisame had reproached him for his disappearance, he had almost forced himself to hate him in order to be able to forget about him, he had convinced himself that Madara didn't care about anyone, including his family. In order to get him out of his mind, Kisame had come to rape his true nature by deluding Sarana. Now that he had finally succeeded, that the war between the shiny obsidian eyes had been won by Itachi's, Madara had returned to explain everything to him in minute detail, to answer all his questions without him needing to ask them. aloud. The guilt of misjudging Madara's behavior was turning into a ruthless tyrant causing Kisame to falter dangerously.

I love Itachi but I don't know how he feels about me, he hasn't been in touch for more than a month. I loved Madara with all my soul until silence and distance canceled everything by force of things, but now I'm sure of what he feels for me. He has always loved me, for him it seems not even a day has passed. What if you stayed here? If you had told me the truth right away I would have really seen that masked dancer starting to wonder why the hell he didn't use his right hand? Would I have noticed that desperate brunette at the table anyway?

The ringing of the cellphone distracted Kisame from these thoughts. He experienced the sensation of re-emerging from dark and boundless abysses but, at the same time, he had felt relieved to take a break from that situation which had become unbearable as well as full of doubts and contrasts. The phone was left on the kitchen table where he was having breakfast a little earlier, still unaware of everything. It was Karin who wanted to ask him about his delay. The redhead appeared apprehensive since, the last time he had had an unexpected event, there was someone who was risking their life. While he was reassuring his secretary trying to look as normal as possible, Kisame felt himself hugged from behind. He wondered for a second how Madara had been so silent before the softness of that squeeze made his voice tremble. He hurried to end the call with Karin before he sensed anything through the phone. He froze feeling Madara's head settle on his left shoulder.

"My feelings for you have never changed, Kisame. I love you, I always have."

How long he had wanted that moment! Kisame had done it for years, then the wound had closed little by little, healing inside all the questions that remained open.

He stood motionless feeling the dark's hands slip under the blue shirt, traversing every shape of the increasingly defined muscles pulling out all the old sensations and feelings. They hadn't died out, they were just dormant under the layers of years.

Kisame perfectly remembered the scent of that thick hair that now partially fell on his chest. Madara's lips settled on his neck, his warm breath caressing his skin, Kisame shivered letting out a moan. He was there petrified, flattered by all the feelings that awoke only because they had never been elaborated and by his future that awaited him in the reality that he had built himself with so much effort. Madara kissed the nape of his neck placing his hands on his erection that had woken up overbearing, he pressed his body on his back sighing as only he knew how to do. Kisame turned inside his arms, closed his eyes forcefully sucking Madara's candid and elegant neck, he perfectly remembered the taste of that much desired skin, the passion, the pain, the love...

He closed his eyes with his hands tightly gripping Madara's buttocks, now they were kissing feverishly as if it were the last moments of their lives. Kisame thought back to a lean and lithe body, that so protruding side hurt, even more hurt those black eyes that constantly screamed for help. A dagger pierced his heart.

"I can't, Madara."

The dark-haired detached himself from his lips while remaining very close, his eyes converged inward focusing on Kisame. They immediately moved to his right wrist to which the bracelet with the skull that he himself had given him was still tied, Kisame's hand rested on his chest, gently increasing the distance between them.

"I'm flattered that I was your first thought. You remembered me even before your family and this, believe me, I will never forget. Still, it's been a long time, Madara. Too. We are no longer the two high school students we were the last time we met, life has gone on and we have taken two different directions. I loved you with all my heart, making sure that your memory didn't hurt me anymore was hard. You are a person who has suffered a lot in life. I know what it's like to give unconditional love without being reciprocated, whether it's towards a partner, a sibling or a friend, this kind of pain can make you lose your mind. You are very sensitive about this, coping with the pain as best you could. You finally made up your mind to tell me everything. I appreciate and understand you, I love you very much, but I realized that I too have someone I can't put aside anymore."

"Don't let him slip away, Kisame, or it could be the end of him."

The words that Kakuzu had addressed to him the day they were all watching over Nagato seemed to have been spoken in anticipation of that moment.

Madara took a step back without taking his eyes off him. His eyes shining again, the red mark on his neck darkening, the pallor of his face intensifying.

"Sorry, Kisame, I was a fool to expect you to wait for me all these years."

Madara uttered that sentence merged with a heartbreaking sigh. Feeling tears starting to fall from his lower lashes, he whirled to go through the door and out.

"Madara!"

Kisame's excitement had nailed him to the threshold.

"Yes?" he couldn't turn around, the treacherous tears were now running down his cheeks.

Madara, I love you, stay like me. The person I couldn't put aside is you. Hug me and let's start our life where it left off, no one is stopping us.

"Don't disappear again, Madara. I care about you, you represent an important part of my life, I can't bear to lose you again."

The words hadn't been the ones hoped for, the dark-haired passed the door without saying anything more and closing it behind him. Madara walked towards the gate before risking being seized with some illness, the emotions of the last few days had been many and too intense, a pain like this now he would never have expected. He came close to regretting not staying in his house in the middle of nowhere.

We could still be happy, Kisame, if only you wanted.

Once in the street it seemed to him that he had almost lost his bearings, he had arrived on foot without even telling anyone where he intended to go.

I have to dedicate myself to my family now, they deserve it.

This resolution infused Madara with new energy. His need to give love would have been satisfied anyway, so many people still needed him. Although he had started walking, the tears and sobs hadn't stopped, on the contrary, they became more and more violent. He didn't care at all if anyone saw him, like this person who was arriving on a bicycle. The double view of that ocean that was gushing from his eyes only allowed him to notice the dark red trousers and the black sleeveless shirt. He pedaled calmly, he was very slender, his hair long even if gathered behind him. Maybe was a girl, did it matter?

"Madara? Is it really you?"

Madara barely remembered that enticing yet unmistakable voice, only for that he stopped his walk. That person had uttered his name in a soft breath.

Madara watched as he stepped away for a moment to lean his bicycle against the fence of Kisame's garden, they were right on the edge of the border. He no longer cared about that unstoppable crying, he let it go without brakes now. A bitter smile curved Madara's lips as he saw the other approach. He had a slightly fleshy mouth equal to his, raven but smooth locks fell continuously on his black eyes like his, however no one had ever had eyelashes so long.

"Madara, what happened to you?"

Now that he was close to him, his thinness made an impression, his collarbones so protruding that they looked like pencils stuck under his skin. That defect that sometimes reappeared in the family and that Madara himself had, albeit in a less evident form: the excavated orbital pits. He had them back so as to create a real shadow.

"Itachi!" the major was crying and laughing at the same time, he spread his arms certain that the other had approached to embrace him.

That seemed to be the gesture, until the younger's eyes fell on that recently marked red neck.

Itachi looked up, Madara felt his heart pierced by a sword, that look screamed pain, requests for help, disappointment, love, loneliness, terrible guilt; all together without the need to pronounce any words. Itachi took a step forward, his face seemed to have no more blood inside, his eyes suddenly become empty, he clutched at his linen shirt. Madara realized that he was looking for a handhold so as not to fall to the ground in a crash. He didn't have time to grab him, Itachi had slipped on his body until he crumpled at his feet. The problems with which he was born had worsened, therefore. He should have stayed away from the stress and pain but now he had noticed that mark on Madara's neck. He had seen him come out of Kisame's gate and he certainly wasn't stupid, he had never been. He and Sasuke had been left to their own devices since they were small, Madara was crushed by a sense of guilt, he knelt next to his cousin, squeezing him in his arms to make him rest on his chest, As he watched him breathe heavily fighting against the loss of consciousness, the memory of holding him as a baby made him want to cry again.

Madara brushed his hair away from his face placing his lips on his forehead soaked in cold sweat: "I'm here, I'll help you."

"Kisame…Kisame!" Itachi was crying.

For the first time since the accident in which his parents had lost their lives, Itachi looked like a little bird struck dead by all the ignored emotions that were now taking their toll on him. Madara felt his shirt almost ripped by those hands that were so delicate but which now had extraordinary strength. His purple nails, making their way between one button and another, were leaving red streaks digging into his flesh; Itachi was so disconnected it was scary. Madara hugged him tightly and stood up lifting that trembling pile of bones into his arms, he was so light and his vertebrae so protruding that the contact gave him an unpleasant sensation. Madara walked towards Kisame's gate, stopped there again forced to call him loudly since he didn't have his number.

I decided not to give it to him when things didn't go in the desired direction. I was wrong.

The face was Kisame deformed by panic had appeared behind the large window of the living room, however it took a few fractions of a second to compose himself, reaching them running. While perhaps it wasn't the most appropriate term, Madara could very well have defined pain as what he felt the moment Kisame opened the gate. Everything had the ability to hurt him starting from the expression he saw in those ice eyes that he had admired so much. They no longer landed on him, but immediately sought Itachi's bloodless face with an expression Madara was sure he had never noticed before: apprehension, tenderness, love, all fused together.

The love Kisame now had for Itachi was not the same as the one he had had for him, not even at the time of their relationship. Madara realized it from the way Kisame took his cousin's body from his arms, from how he supported his butt so that he didn't go down too much, he was able to touch him with decision and delicacy at the same time. Itachi had wrapped his arms around his neck placing his head on his shoulder, this was certainly not a trivial gesture; in his simplicity, he cried.

These are those things that never happened between us, only now you have found love, Kisame. Who would have thought that the person you couldn't put aside is him?

"Come, Madara, I need you" there was no rancor in that request, but only understanding and the certainty that the bond between them had remained strong despite everything.

Madara led the way by opening the door, grabbed Itachi's inert and icy hand taking a seat next to him after Kisame had placed him sitting on the sofa to start immediately after to warm him a glass of milk, it was clear a mile away that he was a step away from malnutrition. Itachi had accepted that offer without looking at either of them, he sipped slowly while Madara continued to massage his hand sitting next to him.

"Take me back to my brother, Kisame" Itachi had returned the empty glass to him, abandoning himself on the pillows with still heavy breathing. His voice sounded cold and flat, a far cry from the gentle tone he usually had. He hadn't even looked at Kisame's face.

"Never mind it, you stay here until you feel better."

"Kisame, I was coming to you, my bike is outside. Either you take me or I'll go alone" a sob shook his chest violently, none of them had ever seen Itachi cry like this. A broken dam that can no longer hold back the strength of that river held captive for years.

I was coming to you…

Those words hurt Kisame as much as they relieved him the first time he heard them. The first day Itachi wore only a tracksuit, he was sweaty and exhausted. Now he looked perfect, with that tight-fitting sleeveless shirt leaving the tattoo Kisame had always fantasized about, the dark red leather pants, the purple nail polish that Kisame adored, a light make-up that he wouldn't need that was now dripping on his sunken cheeks.

He had thus prepared himself to come to me.

Kisame felt the world collapse on him: "it's fine."

He agreed more than anything to put an end to that terrible still image in which he was trapped between Madara and Itachi, entangled in his mistakes of him as captured by the net of a fishing boat. However, Kisame was aware that the agony would not end there, once he saw Itachi disappear behind Sasuke's door, he would never stop crying wondering every second of his life where he was, what he thought, if he was fine and if he would ever see him again . He would never stop feeling guilty about screwing up that morning. A few hours earlier the future had seemed happy to him, downhill and one step away from happiness, now he had the sensation of struggling under the black sky of despair, the one that appears in certain anxious dreams and whose end you never see.

But above all, he will never stop loving you.