No Revenge Is As Complete As Forgiveness

A/N: I just LOVE UST, don't you? Also, thank you about pointing out the whole "cease-seize" thing. *sweatdrop* English isn't my first language and some mistakes of that sort are bound to happen. Regarding Kakashi's and Itachi's ages: to be honest, the canon timeline is quite convoluted. I was left with the impression that when Obito died, Kakashi was 7, not 13, hence Itachi couldn't have been born. But him being 13 is just fine too.



CHAPTER 3



For the next several days, things didn’t change much. Sasuke began cleaning up the house he had chosen to inhabit, first cutting away all the vegetation that had blocked the path that led towards the front door, then slowly beginning to clean all rooms and to throw out the junk he didn’t need. There were a lot of things there, gathered by his aunt’s family for years, and a lot of it must’ve had a sentimental value – clothes, books, pictures, all sorts of pottery and utensils – things Sasuke didn’t need and couldn’t bear to have at the house with him. Some of it he threw out, some of the more personal things he moved to an adjacent house and left them in its living room, turning it into sort of a storage.



He spent almost two days going through the family’s photo-albums, sitting cross-legged on the floor and leafing through the thick, dusty pages, alternating between smiling and crying as he watched the faces of his long-dead clan staring back at him from the little mementoes – young and happy and so full of life. He burned all the pictures once he went through them. He didn’t need them, didn’t want them, and their mere existence caused him pain.



Next came the dust that permeated everything, having gathered even in the smallest nook and cranny. Sasuke cleaned it, as best as he could, opening all windows and airing the rooms.



In the mean time, he kept cooking for both himself and Itachi and carried those meals over to their parents’ house. He discovered that his brother was engaged in the same sort of activity as him, albeit doing it a lot slower. From what Sasuke noticed, his brother was trying to clean only one room, leaving the rest of the house intact. The younger Uchiha didn’t even see footsteps in the dust that covered the rest of the rooms, which meant that Itachi hadn’t even bothered going in them.



On the fifth day in the early morning when he carried breakfast to his brother he noticed a bruise on his face and when he looked down, he saw that the palms of his hands were scraped. Had he fallen somewhere? He must’ve. He didn’t want to care about that, not at all. Itachi got what he deserved.



However, the memory of Itachi handling the bowl of rice with utmost care, apparently sore, haunted Sasuke for the rest of the day and in the evening, along with the dinner he brought some of the anticeptic cream and gauze he kept in his bag for such small scrapes and wounds.



He found Itachi back on the back porch, the significant part of it clean of dust and vegetation. His brother was sitting on it and leaning on one of the supporting wooden columns, his hands demurely resting on his lap. He didn’t move when he heard Sasuke’s footsteps, nor when the younger Uchiha placed the bowl of rice on the floor next to him and sat down.



“Give me your hands.” Sasuke said.



Itachi slowly turned.



“What for?”



“Because those scrapes need to be cleaned. I can’t have them getting infected.”



Itachi didn’t move.



“Why? Why do you care?” he asked, voice strangely apathetic.



“I don’t care about you, Itachi.” Sasuke answered, stressing on “you”. “It’s just that if they get infected, I would have to waste my time and energy and take care of you until you get well, and I have no desire to do that. So give me your hands.”



Itachi gave him a small, cryptic smile.



“You could just leave things as they are.” He pointed out.



Sasuke growled.



“I think we already established that I won’t let you die, Itachi. So just give me your hands and quit arguing.”



Finally Itachi conceded and reached forward, his palms up. Sasuke took a look at the scrapes and winced – it was worse than he initially thought – there was sand and little rocks imbedded in the flesh that would need to be cleaned.



“How did this happen?” he asked unkindly.



“I tripped while taking out some trash.” Itachi explained. “On a vine.”



Sasuke said nothing else but took the small wet towel he brought with himself and began to clean the wounds. He wasn’t careful and scrubbed harder than he had to, until he noticed Itachi silently wincing. Despite himself, he softened his touch and stopped pressing the towel so much. Once he was satisfied, he squeezed a dollop of the antiseptic cream on his fingers and began to spread it on the wounds, his movements slow and surprisingly gentle. When he was done, he wrapped the gauze around his hands and secured it with pins.



“There. Done.” He announced. Itachi pulled his hands away and searched for the bowl of food. “Thank you.” He said.



Sasuke gave an unhappy snort.



“As I said, I didn’t do it for your sake.”



Itachi began to eat, a little clumsy because of the bandages.



“Sasuke?”



“What?”



“May I come over to your place to bathe?” he asked softly. Sasuke’s jaw worked before he asked angrily:



“Why? This house has a large bath.”



Itachi swallowed the morsel in his mouth and responded:



“It is moldy and wet. I keep slipping and falling when I go in there.” He admitted. After a pause, he added “I don’t think that I can clean it on my own.”



Sasuke stared at him in surprise. This was the first time in their lives when Itachi admitted out loud that he couldn’t do something. It filled him both with gleeful satisfaction and disappointment at the same time. It took him a little while to make a decision:



“Alright. But you’ll haul your own water from the well.” Sasuke demanded.



“Okay.”



Without another word, Sasuke took the cream and the rest of the bandages and left.



When he returned, he went to the bath in what had now become his house and took a look inside. The toilet had been cleaned, but the bathtub was as moldy as Itachi’s probably was. So far, Sasuke had cleaned himself in the yard, using the water from the well and hadn’t bothered to clean the bath completely, simply because he had been busy with other things. Now though, he would have to do it, simply because he wanted to show Itachi that unlike him, he could take care of himself. The fact that he simply wanted to help his brother was firmly ignored.



After he dumped his shirt in the living room, he turned and began hauling water in a bucket from the well, using it to clean and scrub the tiles in the bathroom of all the dirt and mold, slowly working his way to the bathtub. When the sun set completely and the natural light faded, he lit some of the candles he found in the house and continued working well into the night. It was past 2 am when he was finally finished, he was sweaty and dirty and exhausted, but the entire bath was shiny and squeaky clean. With a pleased sigh, he went back to the yard and dumped several more of the buckets of cold water over his head, then went to sleep.



He overslept a little in the morning and the sun was almost in its zenith when he finally went to his parents’ house, finding Itachi fiddling clumsily with one of his sandals – one of the straps was torn and he was trying to fix that, albeit without much success.



His brother ate the food he brought him without saying a word other than thanking him. When he was done, Sasuke said:



“You can come to bathe now.”



Itachi nodded and put his sandals on once they stepped on the path. Once they left the yard, the elder Uchiha paused and stayed where he was. It took Sasuke a few moments to figure out why, but when he did he grabbed his elbow with a sigh and pulled him forward.



“Come on. I won’t let you fall, considering that I’d have to patch you up afterwards.” He grumbled. Itachi actually smiled a little at that, even if he said nothing.



Together they reached Sasuke’s house and the younger man led him inside and then into the surprisingly spacious bathroom, then let go of his arm.



“The bathtub is on your right.” He explained. Itachi turned to him.



“Thank you, brother.” He said quietly. Sasuke bristled.



“Don’t call me that. I don’t like it.”



The other flinched minutely at that sharp rebuke and turned away.



“I apologize. It won’t happen again.”



Silently, he began undressing and folding his clothes, then put them on a chair that Sasuke had provided for that. Sasuke noticed how much weight he had lost. Itachi had always been of slender build, but now he looked as fragile as a bird.



“Wasn’t I supposed to carry the water?” he asked.



“…I did it already. Didn’t want you to fall on your face somewhere inside the house and splash everything with water. I just cleaned the place.” He grumbled, but the explanation sounded empty to his own ears.



“Thank you.”



“Would you stop repeating that?!” the younger man asked with annoyance. “Get it through your thick scull – nothing I do is for your sake!”



“I’m sorry.”



“You’re incorrigible!” Sasuke fumed and turned away to leave.



Muttering under his breath he went outside only to discover Kakashi sitting on the porch, another scroll in his hands.



“I figured that you wouldn’t have much food left by now.” The Jounin said without a greeting. “So I brought you some more. Along with some toiletries for the both of you.” He eyed the dark shadow on Sasuke’s chin. “You are almost 19 years old now. I take it you shave?”



Sasuke rubbed the soft fuzz and nodded. He had never grown a proper beard – few of the Uchihas ever did – but a few years ago the tiny, silken hairs had began to grow, albeit slowly. Considering the way Itachi looked at the moment, he could say that he was the same.



He reached and took the scroll from Kakashi.



“Thank you.”



Kakashi nodded.



“It’s nothing.”



He didn’t leave. Sasuke sent him a questioning look.



“Is there something else?”



“Your brother is in the house.” Kakashi pointed out.



“He’s taking a bath.” Sasuke explained defensively.



“Oh?”



“Well, I wasn’t about to go and clean HIS bath as well, was I?”



Kakashi said nothing, but Sasuke could tell that he was smiling under his mask. And his eye twinkled merrily.



“What?” Sasuke asked challenging him to make a comment.



“Oh, nothing. Everything’s fine.”



Sasuke though, had no intention to fall on his back.



“So tell me, Sensei. What they say about you and Naruto, is it true?”



Kakashi actually did look flustered for a moment.



“And what do they say about us, Sasuke?”



It was Sasuke’s turn to smile.



“I lived in Ame for the past several months, and rumours sometimes leak in even there. This one was too big not to notice. Namely, that you are his lover.”



“Ah, that rumour. Sasuke, I am Naruto’s closest advisor, as you probably know. I spend a lot of time with him. But…” he put his hands in his pockets “…our personal relations aren’t really any of your business, are they?” he said lightly.



“Sure. Just as much as my relations with my brother aren’t any of yours, are they?” Sasuke said in the same light tone.



“Touché.” Kakashi said and turned to leave. “I’ll write to Nagato that the two of you are quite fine. He sent a letter asking about your condition a few days ago.” And he was gone before Sasuke could respond.



The young man rolled his eyes at his former Sensei’s tactics and opened the scroll. It turned out that Kakashi had brought him more food this time, and more varied, along with a pair of toothbrushes, paste, combs, soap and all other sorts of things to make their lives easier.



Sighing, he sealed most of the food back in, put the toiletries in a small bag and went back inside, leaving everything on the table in the living room, then headed for the bathroom.



It turned out that Itachi was finished bathing and Sasuke found him while he was drying his thin body with the towel he had provided him. When he was done, he reached for his clothes on the chair.



“What are you doing?” Sasuke asked.



“Getting dressed, Sasuke.” Was the quiet answer, although the younger Uchiha could hear an “obviously” at the end of the sentence.



“Those are filthy.”



“I don’t have anything else.”



“Why didn’t you take any when we left Ame?”



“I thought I wouldn’t live long enough to need more changes of clothing.”



Sasuke bit his lip, turned around and left for a moment, then appeared again, carrying folded pants, shirt and underwear.



“Here.” He thrust them in Itachi’s arms. “Put these on.”



“But they are yours…”



“Just put them on!”



Unwilling to argue further, Itachi began to get dressed. Sasuke watched him, and when he was done, he directed him to sit on the chair where his old clothes were.



“I need to shave you.” He said. “You look ridiculous like that.”



Itachi remained silent and unresisting while Sasuke spread the shaving cream on his cheeks, nor did he even tense while his brother ran the blade of the razor over his smooth skin. He just sat there, quiet and strangely docile, allowing Sasuke to shave him, his younger brother’s warm breath puffing against his neck and raising goosebumps. Sasuke said nothing too, focused on the task at hand, his front pressed against Itachi’s back, body warmth shared between them.



The elder Uchiha had lost a lot of weight while Sasuke had filled out and the shirt he wore, Sasuke’s shirt, was too wide for him. Sasuke didn’t even notice when wide collar had slipped and had revealed a thin, pale shoulder. The sight of it made him pause. There was something about this picture, of the brother whom he had pursued for years, whim he had hated and reviled for so long, with whom he had been obsessed to the point of sacrificing everyone and everything in his life just to get to him, sitting there, dressed in Sasuke’s own clothes, silent, submissive, needing Sasuke to take care of him…



A shudder passed through Sasuke’s body and he closed his eyes, willing the strange feeling away, not wishing to analyze the mixture of anger, intense possessiveness and that annoying protective feeling that filled him when he looked at his brother life that.



He reached and pulled the collar up, the tips of his fingers sliding over Itachi’s moist skin as he put the shirt back in order. An answering shudder went through Itachi when Sasuke did that, and they both felt it. When the younger one spoke again, his voice was hoarse:



“There. You’re done. You can go back now.”