Chapter 2 :
-How a Man Wakes Up a Child-
I wish you never told me,
I wish I never knew,
I wake up screaming,
It's all because of you,
So real these voices in my head-Scared-Three Day's Grace
Itachi woke up lying on his side. His eyes burned. He felt like he'd been beaten. It hurt to breathe. No, no, it didn't hurt to breath. That phantom pain was fading away, leaving only the real ones. For a moment he was calm, and wondered where Kisame had gotten off to. He couldn't feel the man's presence.
His mind gave a sudden jerk as he looked across the worn tatami mat. He remembered those scuffs in vivid detail, and the wall he was staring at. His clothes were neatly folded and placed on top of a small chest. The Uchiha clan symbol sat above it, faded and worn with the years. Itachi breathed in a sharp breath and gave a small cry.
This wasn't where he should be. He remembered the rubble of a fight, his brother's blood smeared face. He remembered pain and falling and dying. He remembered the end, and the relief at finally having reached the end. He could finally stop. He could finally lie down and rest and know he had completed his duty.
How could dying be a relief, and why would Sasuke kill him?
Itachi's mind conjured two very different images of Sasuke. One was of him at fifteen, steely eyed and almost maniac in his passion to kill his brother. The other was a gentle little child, still round cheeked and usually pouting at his brother's refusal to play with him. Which was true? Itachi's mind insisted both were, but that was impossible. The child had been left far in the past, but his mind half insisted that the child was a reality of now.
Itachi closed his eyes. His dream from last night was hammering about in his head and made him feel sick. It had been a terrible dream, filled with pain and death, and things Itachi could never do. Kill his whole clan, but leave Sasuke alone to suffer? He could never do that. He would have died with them. He was an Uchiha, and Uchiha did not turn traitor. They didn't.
This was all a dream, Itachi decided. This was his last moments before death showing what he wanted to see. This was his life before the massacre had happened. This was his life before any one had asked him to choose between duty and love. This was the time he'd ached for most of his life, and now, in the time before death, he'd managed to gain it back for a bit. Who knew how long this delusion would last?
This wasn't a delusion, this was life. He wasn't dying. He hadn't even gotten hit yesterday. It had been a ridiculously easy mission for an ANBU squad. Stupid, reallly, to waste ANBU on a job like that, but the man had wanted the fearsome spooks of Konoha, and nothing else would do. There were real missions they should have been doing instead of that one, but politics had to be played and people got what they paid for.
Ah, ANBU, that hell hole was probably the same as always. He hated it now. Every white mask he saw turned his stomach and made his stomach flip. ANBU made him wretch.
But he was ANBU. He didn't like it, but he didn't hate it. His comrades were ninja serving Konoha just like him, so why...
"Nii-san."
Itachi glanced up, and even that much motion hurt his eyes. Sasuke stood in the doorway, school satchel over his shoulder. He would have been coming back from the Academy about now. Sasuke's brows were drawn low and he frowned. He curled and uncurled his toes as he looked down at his brother, uncertain if he was going to be welcomed or be told to leave.
"Sasuke," Itachi was surprised to hear his voice was a croak and it shook. Sasuke looked just as surprised, and he twisted his shirt between his fingers. Itachi closed his eyes and cleared his throat. He slowly pushed himself up, and it hurt. He gritted his teeth and made it into a slumped sitting position. He motioned his brother forward.
Sasuke came pattering in, and sat down near Itachi's futon. Itachi propped his chin on one hand and gave his brother a smile. "Did you have a good time today?"
Sasuke shook his head. "We learned boring stuff you and Shisui-nii-san already taught me about. Even though I knew it, they made me sit and learn it again. They didn't explain as good as you did either."
Itachi reached up and pressed two fingers to his brother's forehead. "Did everyone else understand it?"
Sasuke scowled. "No, so we had to go back and explain it again and again and again. It was really boring and frustrating." Sasuke suddenly cocked his head to the side. "Nii-san, are you all right? Okaa-san said you had a bad dream, but then Genzai-sensei came and you don't bring a doctor if someone has a bad dream."
Itachi blinked. Bad dream? Or was this a dream? Of course this wasn't a dream. Sasuke's forehead was warm under his fingers, and there was no doubt his little brother was here. Itachi nodded. "It was just a bad dream." A terrible dream. A nightmare. "And I'm tired."
"Right, because you're busy." Sasuke nodded. He put on a serious face and leaned forward to press his sweaty child's hand against Itachi's forehead. "You're warm. Do you have a fever?"
Itachi shook his head, and thought it might fall right off his shoulders. "No, I've been sleeping." Sasuke smiled slowly, and Itachi let his eyes slide closed. He leaned his head forward so his forehead gently touched Sasuke's. "Sasuke, go ask Okaa-sanif I can have some tea, will you?"
"Hai!" Sasuke pulled away and trotted out, casting one almost amazed glance back at his brother. As soon as his little brother was gone, Itachi fell boneless onto the floor. His head throbbed and his eyes were on fire again. He lay panting, eyes clouding with tears that burned even more. Something in his chest twisted and hurt over the fact Sasuke had looked at him and loved him.
He tried to tell himself Sasuke looked at him like that everyday, but it didn't make a difference. Part of him could only remember those dark eyes filled with hate and despair, and that hurt even more than the pain of his head or his eyes.
Genzai appeared in the late afternoon, just after Itachi had collapsed again. He said the boy had no trace of poison, which put his parents at ease, though there was still obviously something wrong with him. He was sleeping now, a heavy, hard sleep Fugaku hadn't seen in his son since he was a Gennin.
Mikoto was still worried. She had a drawn look about her, and scolded Sasuke for bothering his brother while the other was tired. Sasuke turned petulant and sulky, but Fugaku thought he might be on the verge of tears. Sasuke wasn't used to seeing Itachi vulnerable. He was used to his brother being strong and nigh invincible. He had been too young to remember the injuries Itachi had gotten as a Gennin. As the boy got older the injuries decreased, and now it was worth noting if he came back with something more serious than a scratch or bruise.
Genzai was now convinced Itachi had chronic chakra depletion. He'd been running almost back-to-back missions on an ANBU level, it wasn't strange such a thing would happen. What was strange was the fact that neither Fugaku nor Mikoto had noticed. Chakra exhaustion brought on by never quite recovering enough chakra and then almost depleting it was less noticeable than sudden chakra exhaustion, but Fugaku should have recognized it. He'd seen enough of it during the war to know the signs backwards and forwards.
Itachi hadn't shown any of the signs. He still wasn't showing any signs of chakra exhaustion, except that he was sleeping. Part of that was due to the drugs Genzai had given the boy, claiming they needed to force the body to rest if Itachi wouldn't let it.
Sasuke came slinking in while Fugaku was sitting with Itachi. He gave his father a look of guilty surprise. He was holding a stack of papers and a pen, obviously his homework.
"Can I..." The boy trailed off and took a step back.
"If you're quiet." Fugaku nodded to the boy, who beamed and settled himself beside his father. He placed his papers down and set to work. Fugaku glanced over as the child worked, His hand was neat and precise. Mikoto had taught him how to write, so she said, but it was Itachi who had begun the endeavor when he got tired of reading to his younger brother. It was also Itachi who'd taught Sasuke the basic principles of chakra and ninja life.
It was too bad the older boy had so little time for his younger brother now. The child still adored him, and it would mean much to have his brother's attention again. Itachi had never spent much time with Sasuke, but he'd usually made an effort to spend some time with his brother when he was home. Lately, he hadn't even tried. Lately a lot of things had been different about the boy. Fugaku frowned and looked at Itachi's lax face. Even in such a deep sleep it still had lines worn into it.
"Otou-san..." Sasuke started and then stopped. He looked up at his father slowly. "Nii-san's all right, isn't he?"
Fugaku nodded. "It's just chakra depletion. After he sleeps he'll be fine." Fugaku didn't add the 'we hope' everyone had been thinking all day.
Sasuke made a soft noise of assent and looked at his older brother. "He...he was crying, when we came back in with the tea. Did I make him cry?"
Fugaku sat silent and looked between his sons. Fugaku had never had a brother. He'd never been close to any of his cousins, really, except those who were now dead. He reached out a hand, and placed it on Sasuke's bristly head. The child sniffed and pretended he hadn't.
"No, your brother is very...tired. It was probably..." Fugaku faltered. Chakra depletion played havoc with emotions and everything else. It was no wonder Itachi had cried. He wasn't sure how to put it into words for Sasuke to understand. Fugaku knew intimately how it worked. He'd felt it times beyond count. It hadn't been strange to see a ninja, veteran or green rookie, crying in the trenches for no reason other than they were too tired and everything was too much.
"You didn't do anything, Sasuke. Your brother just needs to rest."
Sasuke nodded and went back to his work. It was simple things like trajectory and the ninja principles. Sasuke went through them with only a pause or two. He knew these things well. He was a budding ninja from a long line of ninja, and most of these things he'd learned from the cradle. The children from ninja families always had on advantage over their first generation ninja counterparts.
Sasuke finished up the work and set the papers aside. He sat watching his brother with large solemn eyes. Would Sasuke, given a few years, end up in a place like his brother? Would Fugaku sit a vigil for his younger son too, wonder what was wrong and how much pain his child was in? Would he sit and wonder if he had caused this to happen, or if it was just one of the unfortunate things that happened in life?
Fugaku looked at Sasuke, still young, round faced, and a child. At his age Itachi had been a Gennin, gaining scars and kills, and climbing the ninja ladder. No, Sasuke would never be like Itachi. He'd never achieve his brother's level of genius or excellence, and Fugaku couldn't be thankful enough for that. Having one genius ninja child was heartbreaking enough.
The longer Itachi was awake, the more confused he felt. It was like his mind had suddenly been split in two. On one side there was what he thought of as himself. He was thirteen, and ANBU captain, had a family and a little brother who adored him. One the other side, he was someone else, who claimed his brother hated him and had killed him. Itachi got the feeling the other's family was dead too, by the way it shied away from thinking about them.
Itachi was convinced the other was just the remnant of a bad dream, and the other was convinced he was having a flashback in his last dying moments. Itachi was incensed that he could be counted as a death hallucination, but the other was too distant for Itachi to know how it felt. Feeling what the other felt was like watching shimmering minnows in a fast moving stream. He thought he might have a guess at what they were, but until the other broke the surface, Itachi would still be guessing.
It would be better if one of them were more sure. Sometimes the other's perception overshadowed Itachi's, and sometimes Itachi's overshadowed the other's. It wavered back and forth, and the only peace was in sleep. Itachi knew he'd been drugged, and it still clung to his mind and body, making him feel heavy and slow. He hated it.
The other pressed that drugs weren't so bad. They took away the aching pain that breathing made. They eased the burning pain of his eyes. They were better than lying on the ground in agony, unable to breath or even use his sharingan.
Itachi had never felt that way, but the other insisted it had. Itachi could recall those pains and taste the bitter drugs as they passed over his tongue. It wasn't remembering. Remembering was for past things, and Itachi's past held no such things. The other agreed vaguely with this. At thirteen there had been no past like that, but now there was.
Itachi insisted thirteen was now, but all that got him was a vague confusion and a denial. Now was twenty-one, tired, aching, alone, and so ready to die. Now was waiting for his brother to finally gain enough skill to be a bother rather than an easy kill. Now was pain in the lungs with each breath, blood slipping through his lips as he coughed. Now was burning eyes that saw only in blurred, indistinct shapes. Now was pain in his eyes, blood crusting on his lashes and face. Now was death, slowly slipping onto him as he knew Sasuke had won.
Itachi pushed the other away in disgust. That wasn't now, and that would never be a now for Itachi. It was all just a dream-a terrible, horrible, very realistic dream. He wasn't remembering things, since it was impossible to remember what was to come. He was just remembering a dream, made too vivid by whatever bug he'd managed to catch on his last mission. Maybe Sasuke was right, and he did have a fever. This could all be fever induced. It wouldn't be the strangest thing Itachi had dreamed while fevered.
The realest, but not the strangest.
Itachi curled into a tight ball and breathed out. The drug was still thick in him. It wasn't as strong as it had been, but it made slipping off to sleep again easier. That was the only way he could get away from the other for a while. Maybe the dream would have faded when he got up, and the other lost in Itachi's mind as the fever broke.
Or he would be finally dead, and free of everything.
-How a Man Wakes Up a Child-
I wish you never told me,
I wish I never knew,
I wake up screaming,
It's all because of you,
So real these voices in my head-Scared-Three Day's Grace
Itachi woke up lying on his side. His eyes burned. He felt like he'd been beaten. It hurt to breathe. No, no, it didn't hurt to breath. That phantom pain was fading away, leaving only the real ones. For a moment he was calm, and wondered where Kisame had gotten off to. He couldn't feel the man's presence.
His mind gave a sudden jerk as he looked across the worn tatami mat. He remembered those scuffs in vivid detail, and the wall he was staring at. His clothes were neatly folded and placed on top of a small chest. The Uchiha clan symbol sat above it, faded and worn with the years. Itachi breathed in a sharp breath and gave a small cry.
This wasn't where he should be. He remembered the rubble of a fight, his brother's blood smeared face. He remembered pain and falling and dying. He remembered the end, and the relief at finally having reached the end. He could finally stop. He could finally lie down and rest and know he had completed his duty.
How could dying be a relief, and why would Sasuke kill him?
Itachi's mind conjured two very different images of Sasuke. One was of him at fifteen, steely eyed and almost maniac in his passion to kill his brother. The other was a gentle little child, still round cheeked and usually pouting at his brother's refusal to play with him. Which was true? Itachi's mind insisted both were, but that was impossible. The child had been left far in the past, but his mind half insisted that the child was a reality of now.
Itachi closed his eyes. His dream from last night was hammering about in his head and made him feel sick. It had been a terrible dream, filled with pain and death, and things Itachi could never do. Kill his whole clan, but leave Sasuke alone to suffer? He could never do that. He would have died with them. He was an Uchiha, and Uchiha did not turn traitor. They didn't.
This was all a dream, Itachi decided. This was his last moments before death showing what he wanted to see. This was his life before the massacre had happened. This was his life before any one had asked him to choose between duty and love. This was the time he'd ached for most of his life, and now, in the time before death, he'd managed to gain it back for a bit. Who knew how long this delusion would last?
This wasn't a delusion, this was life. He wasn't dying. He hadn't even gotten hit yesterday. It had been a ridiculously easy mission for an ANBU squad. Stupid, reallly, to waste ANBU on a job like that, but the man had wanted the fearsome spooks of Konoha, and nothing else would do. There were real missions they should have been doing instead of that one, but politics had to be played and people got what they paid for.
Ah, ANBU, that hell hole was probably the same as always. He hated it now. Every white mask he saw turned his stomach and made his stomach flip. ANBU made him wretch.
But he was ANBU. He didn't like it, but he didn't hate it. His comrades were ninja serving Konoha just like him, so why...
"Nii-san."
Itachi glanced up, and even that much motion hurt his eyes. Sasuke stood in the doorway, school satchel over his shoulder. He would have been coming back from the Academy about now. Sasuke's brows were drawn low and he frowned. He curled and uncurled his toes as he looked down at his brother, uncertain if he was going to be welcomed or be told to leave.
"Sasuke," Itachi was surprised to hear his voice was a croak and it shook. Sasuke looked just as surprised, and he twisted his shirt between his fingers. Itachi closed his eyes and cleared his throat. He slowly pushed himself up, and it hurt. He gritted his teeth and made it into a slumped sitting position. He motioned his brother forward.
Sasuke came pattering in, and sat down near Itachi's futon. Itachi propped his chin on one hand and gave his brother a smile. "Did you have a good time today?"
Sasuke shook his head. "We learned boring stuff you and Shisui-nii-san already taught me about. Even though I knew it, they made me sit and learn it again. They didn't explain as good as you did either."
Itachi reached up and pressed two fingers to his brother's forehead. "Did everyone else understand it?"
Sasuke scowled. "No, so we had to go back and explain it again and again and again. It was really boring and frustrating." Sasuke suddenly cocked his head to the side. "Nii-san, are you all right? Okaa-san said you had a bad dream, but then Genzai-sensei came and you don't bring a doctor if someone has a bad dream."
Itachi blinked. Bad dream? Or was this a dream? Of course this wasn't a dream. Sasuke's forehead was warm under his fingers, and there was no doubt his little brother was here. Itachi nodded. "It was just a bad dream." A terrible dream. A nightmare. "And I'm tired."
"Right, because you're busy." Sasuke nodded. He put on a serious face and leaned forward to press his sweaty child's hand against Itachi's forehead. "You're warm. Do you have a fever?"
Itachi shook his head, and thought it might fall right off his shoulders. "No, I've been sleeping." Sasuke smiled slowly, and Itachi let his eyes slide closed. He leaned his head forward so his forehead gently touched Sasuke's. "Sasuke, go ask Okaa-sanif I can have some tea, will you?"
"Hai!" Sasuke pulled away and trotted out, casting one almost amazed glance back at his brother. As soon as his little brother was gone, Itachi fell boneless onto the floor. His head throbbed and his eyes were on fire again. He lay panting, eyes clouding with tears that burned even more. Something in his chest twisted and hurt over the fact Sasuke had looked at him and loved him.
He tried to tell himself Sasuke looked at him like that everyday, but it didn't make a difference. Part of him could only remember those dark eyes filled with hate and despair, and that hurt even more than the pain of his head or his eyes.
Genzai appeared in the late afternoon, just after Itachi had collapsed again. He said the boy had no trace of poison, which put his parents at ease, though there was still obviously something wrong with him. He was sleeping now, a heavy, hard sleep Fugaku hadn't seen in his son since he was a Gennin.
Mikoto was still worried. She had a drawn look about her, and scolded Sasuke for bothering his brother while the other was tired. Sasuke turned petulant and sulky, but Fugaku thought he might be on the verge of tears. Sasuke wasn't used to seeing Itachi vulnerable. He was used to his brother being strong and nigh invincible. He had been too young to remember the injuries Itachi had gotten as a Gennin. As the boy got older the injuries decreased, and now it was worth noting if he came back with something more serious than a scratch or bruise.
Genzai was now convinced Itachi had chronic chakra depletion. He'd been running almost back-to-back missions on an ANBU level, it wasn't strange such a thing would happen. What was strange was the fact that neither Fugaku nor Mikoto had noticed. Chakra exhaustion brought on by never quite recovering enough chakra and then almost depleting it was less noticeable than sudden chakra exhaustion, but Fugaku should have recognized it. He'd seen enough of it during the war to know the signs backwards and forwards.
Itachi hadn't shown any of the signs. He still wasn't showing any signs of chakra exhaustion, except that he was sleeping. Part of that was due to the drugs Genzai had given the boy, claiming they needed to force the body to rest if Itachi wouldn't let it.
Sasuke came slinking in while Fugaku was sitting with Itachi. He gave his father a look of guilty surprise. He was holding a stack of papers and a pen, obviously his homework.
"Can I..." The boy trailed off and took a step back.
"If you're quiet." Fugaku nodded to the boy, who beamed and settled himself beside his father. He placed his papers down and set to work. Fugaku glanced over as the child worked, His hand was neat and precise. Mikoto had taught him how to write, so she said, but it was Itachi who had begun the endeavor when he got tired of reading to his younger brother. It was also Itachi who'd taught Sasuke the basic principles of chakra and ninja life.
It was too bad the older boy had so little time for his younger brother now. The child still adored him, and it would mean much to have his brother's attention again. Itachi had never spent much time with Sasuke, but he'd usually made an effort to spend some time with his brother when he was home. Lately, he hadn't even tried. Lately a lot of things had been different about the boy. Fugaku frowned and looked at Itachi's lax face. Even in such a deep sleep it still had lines worn into it.
"Otou-san..." Sasuke started and then stopped. He looked up at his father slowly. "Nii-san's all right, isn't he?"
Fugaku nodded. "It's just chakra depletion. After he sleeps he'll be fine." Fugaku didn't add the 'we hope' everyone had been thinking all day.
Sasuke made a soft noise of assent and looked at his older brother. "He...he was crying, when we came back in with the tea. Did I make him cry?"
Fugaku sat silent and looked between his sons. Fugaku had never had a brother. He'd never been close to any of his cousins, really, except those who were now dead. He reached out a hand, and placed it on Sasuke's bristly head. The child sniffed and pretended he hadn't.
"No, your brother is very...tired. It was probably..." Fugaku faltered. Chakra depletion played havoc with emotions and everything else. It was no wonder Itachi had cried. He wasn't sure how to put it into words for Sasuke to understand. Fugaku knew intimately how it worked. He'd felt it times beyond count. It hadn't been strange to see a ninja, veteran or green rookie, crying in the trenches for no reason other than they were too tired and everything was too much.
"You didn't do anything, Sasuke. Your brother just needs to rest."
Sasuke nodded and went back to his work. It was simple things like trajectory and the ninja principles. Sasuke went through them with only a pause or two. He knew these things well. He was a budding ninja from a long line of ninja, and most of these things he'd learned from the cradle. The children from ninja families always had on advantage over their first generation ninja counterparts.
Sasuke finished up the work and set the papers aside. He sat watching his brother with large solemn eyes. Would Sasuke, given a few years, end up in a place like his brother? Would Fugaku sit a vigil for his younger son too, wonder what was wrong and how much pain his child was in? Would he sit and wonder if he had caused this to happen, or if it was just one of the unfortunate things that happened in life?
Fugaku looked at Sasuke, still young, round faced, and a child. At his age Itachi had been a Gennin, gaining scars and kills, and climbing the ninja ladder. No, Sasuke would never be like Itachi. He'd never achieve his brother's level of genius or excellence, and Fugaku couldn't be thankful enough for that. Having one genius ninja child was heartbreaking enough.
The longer Itachi was awake, the more confused he felt. It was like his mind had suddenly been split in two. On one side there was what he thought of as himself. He was thirteen, and ANBU captain, had a family and a little brother who adored him. One the other side, he was someone else, who claimed his brother hated him and had killed him. Itachi got the feeling the other's family was dead too, by the way it shied away from thinking about them.
Itachi was convinced the other was just the remnant of a bad dream, and the other was convinced he was having a flashback in his last dying moments. Itachi was incensed that he could be counted as a death hallucination, but the other was too distant for Itachi to know how it felt. Feeling what the other felt was like watching shimmering minnows in a fast moving stream. He thought he might have a guess at what they were, but until the other broke the surface, Itachi would still be guessing.
It would be better if one of them were more sure. Sometimes the other's perception overshadowed Itachi's, and sometimes Itachi's overshadowed the other's. It wavered back and forth, and the only peace was in sleep. Itachi knew he'd been drugged, and it still clung to his mind and body, making him feel heavy and slow. He hated it.
The other pressed that drugs weren't so bad. They took away the aching pain that breathing made. They eased the burning pain of his eyes. They were better than lying on the ground in agony, unable to breath or even use his sharingan.
Itachi had never felt that way, but the other insisted it had. Itachi could recall those pains and taste the bitter drugs as they passed over his tongue. It wasn't remembering. Remembering was for past things, and Itachi's past held no such things. The other agreed vaguely with this. At thirteen there had been no past like that, but now there was.
Itachi insisted thirteen was now, but all that got him was a vague confusion and a denial. Now was twenty-one, tired, aching, alone, and so ready to die. Now was waiting for his brother to finally gain enough skill to be a bother rather than an easy kill. Now was pain in the lungs with each breath, blood slipping through his lips as he coughed. Now was burning eyes that saw only in blurred, indistinct shapes. Now was pain in his eyes, blood crusting on his lashes and face. Now was death, slowly slipping onto him as he knew Sasuke had won.
Itachi pushed the other away in disgust. That wasn't now, and that would never be a now for Itachi. It was all just a dream-a terrible, horrible, very realistic dream. He wasn't remembering things, since it was impossible to remember what was to come. He was just remembering a dream, made too vivid by whatever bug he'd managed to catch on his last mission. Maybe Sasuke was right, and he did have a fever. This could all be fever induced. It wouldn't be the strangest thing Itachi had dreamed while fevered.
The realest, but not the strangest.
Itachi curled into a tight ball and breathed out. The drug was still thick in him. It wasn't as strong as it had been, but it made slipping off to sleep again easier. That was the only way he could get away from the other for a while. Maybe the dream would have faded when he got up, and the other lost in Itachi's mind as the fever broke.
Or he would be finally dead, and free of everything.
