Current mood:	sad
Current music:	seishun amigo, shuji to akira
Entry tags:	fic, itasasu

Word of advice: never, never get emotionally attached to a pairing like Itachi/Sasuke. Your heart will get pulled out, shattered, stomped on, over and over and over again, and there is no end in sight. Because even the adorable pre-massacre moments are so tragic because you know what's coming next. Why can't they just be happy. Why.

For shadows_in_mind, just because. :)

"Since Then"
Itachi/Sasuke



Sasuke squeezed his eyes shut.

"'nii-san," he murmured, softly, not expecting a response. Dreams were cruel, showing him what life could have been if Itachi had not left him bereft and halfway to hell. His curse seal ached hotly, and he reached up to touch it, to reaffirm the falseness of the dream that had just passed away into morning. It responded to the touch, flickering like an angry flame.

A cold hand brushed against his forehead, with a tenderness that spoke of a yearning that was unending, ravenous. Sasuke's eyes shot open, catching the wrist in a desperate grip. Itachi looked down at him, that sad-sharp smile twisting his mouth into a delicate curve.

Sasuke remembered that smile.

"Good morning, Sasuke," Itachi said, gently drawing his hand away. He was kneeling on the bed, now, leaning down to drop a kiss on Sasuke's forehead.

"I thought..." Sasuke started, and the dull ache from the curse seal exploded into a bright pain. Itachi's fingers followed the slip of his jaw, pressing quietly against the seal. The feathery touch of chakra came afterwards, cold in the face of the burning pain. Sasuke's body relaxed as the ache faded away, leaving only the sweet image of Itachi's face hovering above him.

"I thought...," Sasuke began, again, shaking convulsively. Itachi gathered the boy into his arms, arranging him carefully against his chest. "...it was a dream." Sasuke finished, the words sticky and warm against the safe barrier of Itachi's body.

The red of the clouds on the Akatsuki cloak was blinding. Itachi cradled Sasuke's face in his hands, eyes pinwheel-black, visceral, deep hollows in the skull of his face. "It's over, Sasuke," Itachi whispered, his hair falling softly against Sasuke's cheeks.

"It's over," Sasuke repeated, and his head lolled against Itachi's chest. "You killed them."

Itachi was transparent, his eyes fixed on Sasuke's face. "I would, again," he replied, in a quiet monotone. There was an explanation in those words, and after the dream and the realization and the entirety of the previous night, finally, Sasuke understood.

Itachi's hands tightened against Sasuke's cheeks, drawing the boy closer, closer. Closer, until they would overlap and blur into one existence.

"I can't forgive you," Sasuke admitted, though he met Itachi's gaze without flinching. It was the first truth he had let slip for what Sasuke termed an eternity. "I'll never forgive you."

Itachi leaned forward, his lips searching, aching, against Sasuke's own. "I don't want forgiveness." Sasuke felt Itachi's words before they were spoken, the last brown-tipped petal of a flower falling to the earth before winter claimed it.

"It's over," Sasuke smiled, Itachi's hands like the muted brush of freedom against his skin.