Chapter 9 :
-How to Reach Back-
Itachi didn't like the idea of staying indoors all day, so he went out for a walk. He was surprised by what he saw. This was a Konoha he hadn't seen in years. He walked through the streets of the Uchiha compound, and people waved at him. Several stopped and said they were glad to see he was getting better. He was even a little overwhelmed by all of this. These people, if not loved, liked him. The held him in esteem. They didn't show abject fear or hatred when he walked by. He didn't have to worry about them turning around and stabbing him in the back.
Well, not literally, anyway. Metaphorically was another thing all together.
Itachi had a stick of dango forced on him. He took it and wandered down the street, nibbling on it. Without the bitter, lingering tastes he was so used to in his mouth, this was almost too sweet. He wanted it though. How long had it been since he'd had some dango?
Last week, Shi-nii-san brought some.
Maybe for the younger one, but Itachi hadn't had Dango in too long. His stomach had been too queasy, and nothing about the sugary treat had interested him. That was probably when Kisame realized the Uchiha was on his last leg. He could be going out at any moment. Itachi breathed in deep, and his chest didn't ache. He didn't have stabbing pains in his lungs. His joints moved freely, with no grating or pain. His eyes weren't a dull, firey pain. His body was young again.
Itachi grinned to himself and he pulled the last ball of dango off it's stick. He'd forgotten what it was like to be young, though he felt fragile right now. His wrists, in particular, were tiny. He didn't see how they could hold up to the rigors of ninja life. His hands was small too, thin and delicate with spidery looking fingers. How had he ever managed with such tiny little hands? How had he managed to kill so many with these child's hands? It didn't make much sense, no matter how he thought about it. It seemed rather impossible.
But it had happened. He remembered small hands covered in black gloves slick with blood. How terrible it had been, seeing all that blood spilt. How revolting to know it was his blood, in a sense. He's bled himself dry that night, hadn't he? The younger one set up a racket at the thought of the massacre. He tried to grab control again. Itachi almost laughed. The younger managed to get some sort of hold, though. Itachi carefully pried each precarious hold loose, careful not to hurt either himself or the younger. It was like pulling a young kittens claws out of your shirt.
Itachi gave a mental chuckle at that thought. He tossed the 'kitten' away, and listened to him yowl in protest. As soon as he realized he was being called kitten, he protested that too. Itachi thought the kitten had little to complained about. He called Itachi 'it', after all. Itachi smiled at the kitten's indigence, and walked on.
It was funny, after all these years, now that he was back in it's shady streets, Itachi still thought of Konoha as home. Funny, how that was. Itachi really should hate this place, and everything that had been done to him here. He should despise it, but he felt so at ease walking under the trees and among these people. This, he could not deny, was home. This would always be his home, no matter how far he went or what he did. It was odd.
Where else would home be?
The kitten was disgusted, growling and hissing. He didn't like behind out of control. He was almost frantic with worry and panic, but he was hiding it well under irritation and sharp thoughts. It was impossible for him to hide what he was thinking or feeling from Itachi, but the kitten was trying anyway. Itachi was much more used to sharing a mind with something else, and the kitten had absolutely no experience with it. It was a very unfair battle. Poor little kitten.
Give me my body back! You said yourself you're dead, and if you're dead you shouldn't be walking around!
Itachi laughed. A few people gave him odd looks, but no one ran screaming because the S-class missing-nin had just laughed. That was nice, though he had to admit having a fearsome reputation was good for some
things. Now we was juts a thirteen year-old ANBU kid. Really a kid. Sasuke was older than the kitten was...
Sasuke's eight genius.
Right, the kitten's Sasuke was eight, and so innocent. It made Itachi's chest ache to think about that. He loved Sasuke, he reallly did, and seeing his little brother turned into what he'd become was terrible. That was one thing Itachi would never be able to forgive himself for.
There are a lot of things you should never be forgiven for.
The kitten had another point. Itachi shook his head, and considered taking to the roof tops. He was quickly getting used to this too small body, but he didn't think he was up to chakra manipulation yet-especially not when a fall could mean a broken leg. In any case, his chakra network ached softly like a strained muscle. The kitten acknowledged that, and Itachi wondered if his coming to occupy the kitten's body had done that, or if something else was wrong. The kitten sulled up and refused to offer anything. Itachi shrugged and walked on.
It was a little odd, not to have Kisame following behind him. It was nerve wracking, and at the same time a relief. There was no one watching his back, but at the same time he didn't have to worry about when Kisame would decide he'd had enough of Itachi and should kill him. Though, here in the heart of Konoha, Itachi shouldn't need to worry about anyone attacking him. He should be safe.
He was. The heart of Konoha wasn't what he needed to be leery of. No, he needed to be wary of the roots.
Roots?
The thought was soft and confused. The kitten was trying to delve into Itachi's memories and find a deeper significance for that word. Itachi gently shoved the kitten away and stopped to look around. He saw the Hokages' monument and he smiled. Well, why not go there? It would probably be deserted, and after all the bed rest this small body had had, the walk and climb would be good for it. Itachi set off with a little smile, enjoying the play of the sun through the trees and the fact no one looked the least bit frightened of him. It was nice.
Judging by the faint burning in his legs when he finally reached the top of the monument, Itachi had needed the exercise. He lay down on the sun heated rock-on the Yondaime's head. He propped his chin on his arms and half closed his eyes. He looked out across the village and he felt tired. He felt old, but his body was young. He felt dirty, but people treated him like he was clean. This was all very, very strange, but Itachi thought it might be good. He hadn't felt like this in years.
He'd thought, when Sasuke had killed him, it was all over. He'd thought he was done living with regret and remorse and all the terrible things he'd done. He'd thought he could finally leave his rotting body and be free of all the pain, sorrow, and cares he had. Evidently not. He'd left his body behind, but now he was here, thirteen and basking in the sun in Konoha. He still had all his past deeds-which were future deeds now-hanging onto him. This might even be worse. When could he live without all of that hanging off of him, since death didn't seem to be relieving him of any of those burdens.
Give me back my body. You don't want it.
The kitten sounded almost plaintive. Itachi pushed him away, slowly compressing the kitten into a small corner of Itachi's mind, and locking him away. There was nothing around to arouse the kitten's awareness, so as long as Itachi was here, on the monument, he could keep the kitten locked away with relative ease. He wasn't alone in his head, but he was more alone than he had been in years. Itachi yawned and let his eyes fall further closed as he looked out over the village.
It was late afternoon. There was a different feel to the air. More people were out and about. Itachi walked softly through the streets, eyes on everything. He felt like a kid at a festival. He wanted to run through the streets and shout for joy. He wanted to stand on a corner and preach doom and death to these people. What day was it? What month? How much longer did these people have?
Itachi passed to children bickering, and he wanted to tell them to stop. They should not fight. Didn't they know how little time they had? They shouldn't waste it in fighting. They had no idea what was going to happen. They were oblivious, Worse, they were innocent. They knew nothing of what was going to happen, but it was going to happen to them anyway. They had done no wrong, only been born to the wrong parents in the wrong time.
These children had done nothing. So many people in this compound were innocent, and yet, they would all die for the sins of one group. They were going to be immortalized in a bloody death that would be remembered for ages and bring about the full destruction of one of the world's greatest clans, and it was all his fault. It was all his doing.
Itachi hit a wall of the alley as he staggered. Bile rose in his throat, and he vomited onto the dry ground. He was breathing heavily, and his head felt like it was spinning. His head felt heavy, and for a moment he felt sick to death again. The old aches and pain crept in, from the pain in his crackling lungs to the grating joints. He leaned against the wall, and almost slipped to the ground. He closed his eyes and he felt the world tip sideways and upside down. He was going to fall down.
The kitten stirred at all this. He'd been hidden deep down until now, and at Itachi's distress, he ventured out a little. Itachi felt the kitten recoil slightly from all the pain, and then laugh at it,. Stupid, he had the body of a thirteen year-old. None of that hurt. It was all phantom pains.
Itachi smiled. Phantom pains from his old, decrepit twenty-one year-old body? He'd never heard of anything like that before. The pains, though, were fading. with the kitten sensible scorn they had started to recede. Itachi wondered if they would always start coming back every time he slipped to far into remembering. He didn't like the idea of that. It would mean hardly thinking at all. Everything here was remembering for him. Maybe thinking too much would send him back to his dead body, and into death.
By all means, think away.
Itachi shook his head. How did the kitten now he himself wouldn't vanish?
Because I'm real. I know that. Real people don't go 'poof' when the delusional ones vanish.
But, which one of them was real? Didn't they both exist? Itachi heard the kitten's hissing denial, and almost laughed. He wiped his mouth of with the back of his hand, and pushed off the wall. His steps were almost unsteady, but he had a appointment to keep. He'd promised the boy he would train with him, and that was what he was going to do. He wasn't going to break a promise to his brother again. He wasn't going to ignore Sasuke.
Why? Hasn't he already killed you? If these is just a hallucination, why do you feel the need to be nice to him? Are you trying to atone for ignoring him and making him hate you? Do you actually think you can atone for what you did? Do you think there's enough forgiveness in the world for someone like you? Do you think anyone would waste forgiveness on filth like you?
The kitten's words were sharp and vicious. He stabbed each one into Itachi's conscience, mercilessly ripping into Itachi's soft under belly. Oh, the kitten was Itachi all right. he was vicious and ruthless, and his enemies got no mercy. Itachi could feel hate radiating off the kitten in waves, burning against his senses. Itachi shuddered. He could remember another feeling like that-hate hate hate all wrapped up inside his head and unable to get out. Stuck, chained, trapped, caught and buried so deep he felt he'd never get out only in death.
You were only free in death, but you could never die.
Itachi looked at the blue sky, and he laughed. No, he was never going to die, was he? He was stuck in this hellish circle, and he would relive his life again and again until he had suffered enough to be released from this terrible cycle of death and destruction and despair. Itachi was going to live a million years, and he didn't want to live another second. Life was ironic.
Itachi felt the kitten's confusion and a little bit of disdain. Of course, the kitten was too young to understand all of this. He hadn't seen enough. He didn't know...oh, he didn't know all that yet. He hadn't felt what it was like. All those things, all those terrible things...
"Itachi."
Itachi turned to face his father. He had to look up, and he saw almost tender concern on his father's face. He also saw wariness, and Itachi realized he was still laughing a little, and tears were crawling down his face.
"Oh, 'Tou-san," Itachi rubbed at the tears and tried to stop laughing. It kept bubbling out, and Itachi couldn't look away. Here was Fugaku again, old ninja, war veteran, Itachi's father. The man who had walked Itachi up and down the halls when the child wouldn't sleep. Here was Itachi's father, alive and well, with worry lines in his face and grey fatigue in his eyes.
Soon, he'd be dead just like all the others.
"Itachi..." Fugaku reached out and put his hands on Itachi's shoulders. He looked his son in the eye, and his lips folded into a frown Itachi knew very well. Itachi met his father's eyes, still rubbing tears off his young, smooth cheeks and trying to stop the hicupping giggling that was shaking his shoulders under his father's strong broad hands. Hysterics. Itachi was having hysterics.
It was no wonder, he thought. He was finally going insane, but unfortunately he seemed terribly lucid. Or maybe this all was just a hallucination. Maybe he'd been crazy all along and was finally coming to his senses. Maybe all his life from this point on had just been illusion of his cracked and broken mind, and not reality at all. Wouldn't that be nice?
He remembered all the burning pain, and the high pitched keening of someone past despair, drowned in every negative emotion possible, and he knew it had all happened. It would all happen. He knew it. It was inevitable. He looked at his farther through tear blurred vision, and he wanted to laugh until he couldn't breath. He really had gone crazy now, hadn't he?
"'Tachi." Fugaku's voice had a snap and made Itachi give a start. Fugaku looked down with a frown. "Itachi. are you all right?" That wasn't the question that was being asked. Itachi could see that. What was being asked was 'what is wrong'. Itachi met his farther's gaze and tried his hardest to stop the infernal, cracked giggling.
"I-I'm all right, maybe just a little tired," Itachi lied to his long dead, ever present father, smiling at the man like he could never remember doing before. The world, Itachi knew with a sudden conviction, was crazy. Itachi was crazy. Everything was crazy, tipping out of control and reason. It was all absolutely insane, and he was just as cracked and outside the bounds of reason as everything else was. Maybe that was why Itachi was a genius. He was insane enough to understand the workings of a crazy world and all the other people in it who played at being sane.
Fuagkue looked Itachi over, and then nodded. Itachi wondered at how the man took his thirteen year-old son at his word. Itachi never remembered being particularly truthful to his father, but he never remembered outright lying to his father...until the end, when it was necessary. The end. The very end of everything. Funny, Itachi and Sasuke had lived past the end, but Itachi still thought of it as the end. It had been an end, but was it really the end? Did the extinction of a clan merit that name?
Itachi and Fugaku started walking towards home. Itachi cast a sideways glance up at his father. Fuagku looked down, like he felt that look. Maybe he'd seen Itachi's eyes move, but, for some reason, Itachi didn't think that was why Fugaku had looked at him. "Where have you been all day?" Fugaku asked in a low, gentle voice. Itachi didn't remember Fuagku sounding like that. He father had always sounded busy and monotonous. Was this a different Fugaku, or was Itachi listening with different ears now?
"I went to the Hokage's monument," Itachi admitted as they walked along. "I...lost track of time."
Fugaku made a soft noise of assent. "That's a long walk for someone who's recovering. You should take it easier than that." Even the admonishment sounded gentle.
"Aah," Itachi paused. He felt suddenly exposed, only in his ninja black, with no cloak to pull tight around him–to conceal him from all the friendly eyes around. "We didn't go to the Monument last October."
"I went, but you were gone on a mission," Fugaku corrected. "We can both go this year."
"Aah," Itachi agreed, but he knew they wouldn't. By October, the end would have come There would be no one to sit on the Yondaime's monument and talk to him like he was an old friend. No one would ever get scolded for dumping cake icing down in the Yondoame's hair again. This would end. So many things would end..
Itachi glanced down, and saw his small hand swinging next to his father's kunai holster. If it was all going to end, why not start now? It wasn't ideal, but he could track down those that ran away easily enough. He could see now how he would do it. First would be his father, and it would only take one kunai. Itachi would stab Fugaku in the gut, and when the man hunched over, slit his throat. Then Itachi would move onto the man standing down the street, and so forth until there were none left. He'd just have to start with his father...
DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM!
Itachi reeled. The shout from the kitten made him dizzy. For a moment the kitten almost shoved Itachi out of control. Itachi felt his knees get weak, and Fugaku's hand close around his arm. Itachi stumbled and then stood still. The kitten faded pack, hissing and growling, and making a venomous racket, but it was all just noise. None of it had the force of what his shout had possessed. None of it almost shoved Itachi out of control.
"I think, tomorrow you should stay in bed and rest," Fugaku said firmly, and Itachi knew there was no thinking to be done. He nodded mutely. He suddenly felt very tired, but he didn't say that.
"I'll go straight to bed...after I train with Sasuke." Itachi said it just as firmly as his father did. Fugaku looked a little surprised, and the barest of smiles pulled at the corners of his lips before he nodded. Itachi started walking again, and he got the feeling Fugaku more than approved of his son's words. Itachi smiled to himself as he walked.
In the back of his mind, the kitten was still growling, ineffectual, but still there.
Enjoy !!!
-How to Reach Back-
Itachi didn't like the idea of staying indoors all day, so he went out for a walk. He was surprised by what he saw. This was a Konoha he hadn't seen in years. He walked through the streets of the Uchiha compound, and people waved at him. Several stopped and said they were glad to see he was getting better. He was even a little overwhelmed by all of this. These people, if not loved, liked him. The held him in esteem. They didn't show abject fear or hatred when he walked by. He didn't have to worry about them turning around and stabbing him in the back.
Well, not literally, anyway. Metaphorically was another thing all together.
Itachi had a stick of dango forced on him. He took it and wandered down the street, nibbling on it. Without the bitter, lingering tastes he was so used to in his mouth, this was almost too sweet. He wanted it though. How long had it been since he'd had some dango?
Last week, Shi-nii-san brought some.
Maybe for the younger one, but Itachi hadn't had Dango in too long. His stomach had been too queasy, and nothing about the sugary treat had interested him. That was probably when Kisame realized the Uchiha was on his last leg. He could be going out at any moment. Itachi breathed in deep, and his chest didn't ache. He didn't have stabbing pains in his lungs. His joints moved freely, with no grating or pain. His eyes weren't a dull, firey pain. His body was young again.
Itachi grinned to himself and he pulled the last ball of dango off it's stick. He'd forgotten what it was like to be young, though he felt fragile right now. His wrists, in particular, were tiny. He didn't see how they could hold up to the rigors of ninja life. His hands was small too, thin and delicate with spidery looking fingers. How had he ever managed with such tiny little hands? How had he managed to kill so many with these child's hands? It didn't make much sense, no matter how he thought about it. It seemed rather impossible.
But it had happened. He remembered small hands covered in black gloves slick with blood. How terrible it had been, seeing all that blood spilt. How revolting to know it was his blood, in a sense. He's bled himself dry that night, hadn't he? The younger one set up a racket at the thought of the massacre. He tried to grab control again. Itachi almost laughed. The younger managed to get some sort of hold, though. Itachi carefully pried each precarious hold loose, careful not to hurt either himself or the younger. It was like pulling a young kittens claws out of your shirt.
Itachi gave a mental chuckle at that thought. He tossed the 'kitten' away, and listened to him yowl in protest. As soon as he realized he was being called kitten, he protested that too. Itachi thought the kitten had little to complained about. He called Itachi 'it', after all. Itachi smiled at the kitten's indigence, and walked on.
It was funny, after all these years, now that he was back in it's shady streets, Itachi still thought of Konoha as home. Funny, how that was. Itachi really should hate this place, and everything that had been done to him here. He should despise it, but he felt so at ease walking under the trees and among these people. This, he could not deny, was home. This would always be his home, no matter how far he went or what he did. It was odd.
Where else would home be?
The kitten was disgusted, growling and hissing. He didn't like behind out of control. He was almost frantic with worry and panic, but he was hiding it well under irritation and sharp thoughts. It was impossible for him to hide what he was thinking or feeling from Itachi, but the kitten was trying anyway. Itachi was much more used to sharing a mind with something else, and the kitten had absolutely no experience with it. It was a very unfair battle. Poor little kitten.
Give me my body back! You said yourself you're dead, and if you're dead you shouldn't be walking around!
Itachi laughed. A few people gave him odd looks, but no one ran screaming because the S-class missing-nin had just laughed. That was nice, though he had to admit having a fearsome reputation was good for some
things. Now we was juts a thirteen year-old ANBU kid. Really a kid. Sasuke was older than the kitten was...
Sasuke's eight genius.
Right, the kitten's Sasuke was eight, and so innocent. It made Itachi's chest ache to think about that. He loved Sasuke, he reallly did, and seeing his little brother turned into what he'd become was terrible. That was one thing Itachi would never be able to forgive himself for.
There are a lot of things you should never be forgiven for.
The kitten had another point. Itachi shook his head, and considered taking to the roof tops. He was quickly getting used to this too small body, but he didn't think he was up to chakra manipulation yet-especially not when a fall could mean a broken leg. In any case, his chakra network ached softly like a strained muscle. The kitten acknowledged that, and Itachi wondered if his coming to occupy the kitten's body had done that, or if something else was wrong. The kitten sulled up and refused to offer anything. Itachi shrugged and walked on.
It was a little odd, not to have Kisame following behind him. It was nerve wracking, and at the same time a relief. There was no one watching his back, but at the same time he didn't have to worry about when Kisame would decide he'd had enough of Itachi and should kill him. Though, here in the heart of Konoha, Itachi shouldn't need to worry about anyone attacking him. He should be safe.
He was. The heart of Konoha wasn't what he needed to be leery of. No, he needed to be wary of the roots.
Roots?
The thought was soft and confused. The kitten was trying to delve into Itachi's memories and find a deeper significance for that word. Itachi gently shoved the kitten away and stopped to look around. He saw the Hokages' monument and he smiled. Well, why not go there? It would probably be deserted, and after all the bed rest this small body had had, the walk and climb would be good for it. Itachi set off with a little smile, enjoying the play of the sun through the trees and the fact no one looked the least bit frightened of him. It was nice.
Judging by the faint burning in his legs when he finally reached the top of the monument, Itachi had needed the exercise. He lay down on the sun heated rock-on the Yondaime's head. He propped his chin on his arms and half closed his eyes. He looked out across the village and he felt tired. He felt old, but his body was young. He felt dirty, but people treated him like he was clean. This was all very, very strange, but Itachi thought it might be good. He hadn't felt like this in years.
He'd thought, when Sasuke had killed him, it was all over. He'd thought he was done living with regret and remorse and all the terrible things he'd done. He'd thought he could finally leave his rotting body and be free of all the pain, sorrow, and cares he had. Evidently not. He'd left his body behind, but now he was here, thirteen and basking in the sun in Konoha. He still had all his past deeds-which were future deeds now-hanging onto him. This might even be worse. When could he live without all of that hanging off of him, since death didn't seem to be relieving him of any of those burdens.
Give me back my body. You don't want it.
The kitten sounded almost plaintive. Itachi pushed him away, slowly compressing the kitten into a small corner of Itachi's mind, and locking him away. There was nothing around to arouse the kitten's awareness, so as long as Itachi was here, on the monument, he could keep the kitten locked away with relative ease. He wasn't alone in his head, but he was more alone than he had been in years. Itachi yawned and let his eyes fall further closed as he looked out over the village.
It was late afternoon. There was a different feel to the air. More people were out and about. Itachi walked softly through the streets, eyes on everything. He felt like a kid at a festival. He wanted to run through the streets and shout for joy. He wanted to stand on a corner and preach doom and death to these people. What day was it? What month? How much longer did these people have?
Itachi passed to children bickering, and he wanted to tell them to stop. They should not fight. Didn't they know how little time they had? They shouldn't waste it in fighting. They had no idea what was going to happen. They were oblivious, Worse, they were innocent. They knew nothing of what was going to happen, but it was going to happen to them anyway. They had done no wrong, only been born to the wrong parents in the wrong time.
These children had done nothing. So many people in this compound were innocent, and yet, they would all die for the sins of one group. They were going to be immortalized in a bloody death that would be remembered for ages and bring about the full destruction of one of the world's greatest clans, and it was all his fault. It was all his doing.
Itachi hit a wall of the alley as he staggered. Bile rose in his throat, and he vomited onto the dry ground. He was breathing heavily, and his head felt like it was spinning. His head felt heavy, and for a moment he felt sick to death again. The old aches and pain crept in, from the pain in his crackling lungs to the grating joints. He leaned against the wall, and almost slipped to the ground. He closed his eyes and he felt the world tip sideways and upside down. He was going to fall down.
The kitten stirred at all this. He'd been hidden deep down until now, and at Itachi's distress, he ventured out a little. Itachi felt the kitten recoil slightly from all the pain, and then laugh at it,. Stupid, he had the body of a thirteen year-old. None of that hurt. It was all phantom pains.
Itachi smiled. Phantom pains from his old, decrepit twenty-one year-old body? He'd never heard of anything like that before. The pains, though, were fading. with the kitten sensible scorn they had started to recede. Itachi wondered if they would always start coming back every time he slipped to far into remembering. He didn't like the idea of that. It would mean hardly thinking at all. Everything here was remembering for him. Maybe thinking too much would send him back to his dead body, and into death.
By all means, think away.
Itachi shook his head. How did the kitten now he himself wouldn't vanish?
Because I'm real. I know that. Real people don't go 'poof' when the delusional ones vanish.
But, which one of them was real? Didn't they both exist? Itachi heard the kitten's hissing denial, and almost laughed. He wiped his mouth of with the back of his hand, and pushed off the wall. His steps were almost unsteady, but he had a appointment to keep. He'd promised the boy he would train with him, and that was what he was going to do. He wasn't going to break a promise to his brother again. He wasn't going to ignore Sasuke.
Why? Hasn't he already killed you? If these is just a hallucination, why do you feel the need to be nice to him? Are you trying to atone for ignoring him and making him hate you? Do you actually think you can atone for what you did? Do you think there's enough forgiveness in the world for someone like you? Do you think anyone would waste forgiveness on filth like you?
The kitten's words were sharp and vicious. He stabbed each one into Itachi's conscience, mercilessly ripping into Itachi's soft under belly. Oh, the kitten was Itachi all right. he was vicious and ruthless, and his enemies got no mercy. Itachi could feel hate radiating off the kitten in waves, burning against his senses. Itachi shuddered. He could remember another feeling like that-hate hate hate all wrapped up inside his head and unable to get out. Stuck, chained, trapped, caught and buried so deep he felt he'd never get out only in death.
You were only free in death, but you could never die.
Itachi looked at the blue sky, and he laughed. No, he was never going to die, was he? He was stuck in this hellish circle, and he would relive his life again and again until he had suffered enough to be released from this terrible cycle of death and destruction and despair. Itachi was going to live a million years, and he didn't want to live another second. Life was ironic.
Itachi felt the kitten's confusion and a little bit of disdain. Of course, the kitten was too young to understand all of this. He hadn't seen enough. He didn't know...oh, he didn't know all that yet. He hadn't felt what it was like. All those things, all those terrible things...
"Itachi."
Itachi turned to face his father. He had to look up, and he saw almost tender concern on his father's face. He also saw wariness, and Itachi realized he was still laughing a little, and tears were crawling down his face.
"Oh, 'Tou-san," Itachi rubbed at the tears and tried to stop laughing. It kept bubbling out, and Itachi couldn't look away. Here was Fugaku again, old ninja, war veteran, Itachi's father. The man who had walked Itachi up and down the halls when the child wouldn't sleep. Here was Itachi's father, alive and well, with worry lines in his face and grey fatigue in his eyes.
Soon, he'd be dead just like all the others.
"Itachi..." Fugaku reached out and put his hands on Itachi's shoulders. He looked his son in the eye, and his lips folded into a frown Itachi knew very well. Itachi met his father's eyes, still rubbing tears off his young, smooth cheeks and trying to stop the hicupping giggling that was shaking his shoulders under his father's strong broad hands. Hysterics. Itachi was having hysterics.
It was no wonder, he thought. He was finally going insane, but unfortunately he seemed terribly lucid. Or maybe this all was just a hallucination. Maybe he'd been crazy all along and was finally coming to his senses. Maybe all his life from this point on had just been illusion of his cracked and broken mind, and not reality at all. Wouldn't that be nice?
He remembered all the burning pain, and the high pitched keening of someone past despair, drowned in every negative emotion possible, and he knew it had all happened. It would all happen. He knew it. It was inevitable. He looked at his farther through tear blurred vision, and he wanted to laugh until he couldn't breath. He really had gone crazy now, hadn't he?
"'Tachi." Fugaku's voice had a snap and made Itachi give a start. Fugaku looked down with a frown. "Itachi. are you all right?" That wasn't the question that was being asked. Itachi could see that. What was being asked was 'what is wrong'. Itachi met his farther's gaze and tried his hardest to stop the infernal, cracked giggling.
"I-I'm all right, maybe just a little tired," Itachi lied to his long dead, ever present father, smiling at the man like he could never remember doing before. The world, Itachi knew with a sudden conviction, was crazy. Itachi was crazy. Everything was crazy, tipping out of control and reason. It was all absolutely insane, and he was just as cracked and outside the bounds of reason as everything else was. Maybe that was why Itachi was a genius. He was insane enough to understand the workings of a crazy world and all the other people in it who played at being sane.
Fuagkue looked Itachi over, and then nodded. Itachi wondered at how the man took his thirteen year-old son at his word. Itachi never remembered being particularly truthful to his father, but he never remembered outright lying to his father...until the end, when it was necessary. The end. The very end of everything. Funny, Itachi and Sasuke had lived past the end, but Itachi still thought of it as the end. It had been an end, but was it really the end? Did the extinction of a clan merit that name?
Itachi and Fugaku started walking towards home. Itachi cast a sideways glance up at his father. Fuagku looked down, like he felt that look. Maybe he'd seen Itachi's eyes move, but, for some reason, Itachi didn't think that was why Fugaku had looked at him. "Where have you been all day?" Fugaku asked in a low, gentle voice. Itachi didn't remember Fuagku sounding like that. He father had always sounded busy and monotonous. Was this a different Fugaku, or was Itachi listening with different ears now?
"I went to the Hokage's monument," Itachi admitted as they walked along. "I...lost track of time."
Fugaku made a soft noise of assent. "That's a long walk for someone who's recovering. You should take it easier than that." Even the admonishment sounded gentle.
"Aah," Itachi paused. He felt suddenly exposed, only in his ninja black, with no cloak to pull tight around him–to conceal him from all the friendly eyes around. "We didn't go to the Monument last October."
"I went, but you were gone on a mission," Fugaku corrected. "We can both go this year."
"Aah," Itachi agreed, but he knew they wouldn't. By October, the end would have come There would be no one to sit on the Yondaime's monument and talk to him like he was an old friend. No one would ever get scolded for dumping cake icing down in the Yondoame's hair again. This would end. So many things would end..
Itachi glanced down, and saw his small hand swinging next to his father's kunai holster. If it was all going to end, why not start now? It wasn't ideal, but he could track down those that ran away easily enough. He could see now how he would do it. First would be his father, and it would only take one kunai. Itachi would stab Fugaku in the gut, and when the man hunched over, slit his throat. Then Itachi would move onto the man standing down the street, and so forth until there were none left. He'd just have to start with his father...
DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM!
Itachi reeled. The shout from the kitten made him dizzy. For a moment the kitten almost shoved Itachi out of control. Itachi felt his knees get weak, and Fugaku's hand close around his arm. Itachi stumbled and then stood still. The kitten faded pack, hissing and growling, and making a venomous racket, but it was all just noise. None of it had the force of what his shout had possessed. None of it almost shoved Itachi out of control.
"I think, tomorrow you should stay in bed and rest," Fugaku said firmly, and Itachi knew there was no thinking to be done. He nodded mutely. He suddenly felt very tired, but he didn't say that.
"I'll go straight to bed...after I train with Sasuke." Itachi said it just as firmly as his father did. Fugaku looked a little surprised, and the barest of smiles pulled at the corners of his lips before he nodded. Itachi started walking again, and he got the feeling Fugaku more than approved of his son's words. Itachi smiled to himself as he walked.
In the back of his mind, the kitten was still growling, ineffectual, but still there.
Enjoy !!!