Apologies and Hope
folder
Naruto › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
872
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Naruto › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
1
Views:
872
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Apologies and Hope
A/N: A very short fic that came to me all of a sudden while in a state of artist's rage. It is one possible outcome of the last fight between these brothers. I would like it if this happened, I think, even if it would make me extremely sad.
* * *
Sasuke flew back several yards, reeling from a kick to the abdomen. He was bleeding heavily from his left arm and there was a steadily-spreading stain of red at his right hip. His knees buckled and he collapsed awkwardly, landing with a dull crack that announced the breaking of the already injured arm. Itachi smirked slightly.
“So tell me, what’s life like bleeding on the floor? It seems to be an activity rather familiar to you.”
The voice that answered was one spat through years of ambitious hatred, thick with contempt, hurt and loss, and yet strangely embroidered with the smirk that came so naturally to both of them.
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
Hazy eyes registered red sprays and shocks of crackling electricity dancing around the walls. The blue light shimmered across a face that was so like his own it was almost sickening. Itachi observed that the while the blood still flowed, there was no broken bone, and no buckled knees. Finally beaten at his own game, it seemed. He drew a shuddering breath as he saw red eyes fade back to black, followed by everything else in the cold stone room.
“I suppose the darkness will catch you, after all,” a taunting voice whispered, seemingly from several miles away, although even now, his rational mind rejected the thought and estimated that it had only been a foot and a half.
Darkness was here at last. Twenty long years was plenty enough to see everything one wanted to, and much more that they didn’t. It was plenty enough time to gain oneself and one’s mind, and rapidly lose it again. It was long enough to be fulfilled, and just long enough to be bored. Yes, he decided, twenty was a good number. He coughed and drew another ragged breath. His last, he knew, as he whispered his dying words.
“Arigato, Otouto.”
Sasuke screamed, his fist colliding with his brother’s left cheek, again and again until he felt it shatter. He knew it did nothing, he knew that Itachi was gone, that those ears were deaf and those cheeks were cooling. He knew the body before him felt less even than it seemingly had done in life, but at fifteen, his rational mind was not as well-practiced as Itachi’s.
Instead his anger welled up until tears streamed down his face unconscious and unrestrained. He cried. The tears that had been kept back since that night seven years ago flowed freely now. He cried for his parents, he cried for his loneliness. He cried for everything he had ever left behind; his innocence, his sanity, his soul? He cried for the fact that even though he now lay beside his lifeless body, Itachi still seemed to have won. He had thanked him, and Sasuke knew not knowing why would haunt him for the rest of his life. He shuddered. His future was not something he wished to think about. What was left for him now, but to ask the gods for that which he had never understood? Maybe it ran in the blood, like so many other things, or maybe it was only him, but forgiveness was nothing more than a word to him.
He blinked and raised his head, reaching out to wipe the blood that had trickled from his brother’s now pale lips. He looked so peaceful now. Beautiful, like he never did with that well-practiced expression of superiority, but like he had on those nights when they were young when Sasuke had watched him sleep. Looking back on it, he must have sensed his younger brother there, but he had still seemed to slumber. Another thing to add to the web of incomprehensible illusion that was Uchiha Itachi.
Sasuke had no idea how long he spent there, watching. The tears had begun again at some point, but their tracks had since run dry once more. He had realised not long ago that he was cold, shivering, but he did not move. He didn’t know if he could, or if he even wanted to. It wasn’t until the dizziness overcame him and his own clouded eyes fell shut that he registered that his breath was barely dragging itself through his lungs. He let his head drop, rested on his brother’s shoulder in the way that it had been so long ago. He gave up then, holding no hope for himself, and not truly wanting to.
Uchiha Sasuke had mastered the art of ambition, but hope was something altogether quite different.
“Forgive me, Nii-san.”
* * *
Sasuke flew back several yards, reeling from a kick to the abdomen. He was bleeding heavily from his left arm and there was a steadily-spreading stain of red at his right hip. His knees buckled and he collapsed awkwardly, landing with a dull crack that announced the breaking of the already injured arm. Itachi smirked slightly.
“So tell me, what’s life like bleeding on the floor? It seems to be an activity rather familiar to you.”
The voice that answered was one spat through years of ambitious hatred, thick with contempt, hurt and loss, and yet strangely embroidered with the smirk that came so naturally to both of them.
“I don’t know, you tell me.”
Hazy eyes registered red sprays and shocks of crackling electricity dancing around the walls. The blue light shimmered across a face that was so like his own it was almost sickening. Itachi observed that the while the blood still flowed, there was no broken bone, and no buckled knees. Finally beaten at his own game, it seemed. He drew a shuddering breath as he saw red eyes fade back to black, followed by everything else in the cold stone room.
“I suppose the darkness will catch you, after all,” a taunting voice whispered, seemingly from several miles away, although even now, his rational mind rejected the thought and estimated that it had only been a foot and a half.
Darkness was here at last. Twenty long years was plenty enough to see everything one wanted to, and much more that they didn’t. It was plenty enough time to gain oneself and one’s mind, and rapidly lose it again. It was long enough to be fulfilled, and just long enough to be bored. Yes, he decided, twenty was a good number. He coughed and drew another ragged breath. His last, he knew, as he whispered his dying words.
“Arigato, Otouto.”
Sasuke screamed, his fist colliding with his brother’s left cheek, again and again until he felt it shatter. He knew it did nothing, he knew that Itachi was gone, that those ears were deaf and those cheeks were cooling. He knew the body before him felt less even than it seemingly had done in life, but at fifteen, his rational mind was not as well-practiced as Itachi’s.
Instead his anger welled up until tears streamed down his face unconscious and unrestrained. He cried. The tears that had been kept back since that night seven years ago flowed freely now. He cried for his parents, he cried for his loneliness. He cried for everything he had ever left behind; his innocence, his sanity, his soul? He cried for the fact that even though he now lay beside his lifeless body, Itachi still seemed to have won. He had thanked him, and Sasuke knew not knowing why would haunt him for the rest of his life. He shuddered. His future was not something he wished to think about. What was left for him now, but to ask the gods for that which he had never understood? Maybe it ran in the blood, like so many other things, or maybe it was only him, but forgiveness was nothing more than a word to him.
He blinked and raised his head, reaching out to wipe the blood that had trickled from his brother’s now pale lips. He looked so peaceful now. Beautiful, like he never did with that well-practiced expression of superiority, but like he had on those nights when they were young when Sasuke had watched him sleep. Looking back on it, he must have sensed his younger brother there, but he had still seemed to slumber. Another thing to add to the web of incomprehensible illusion that was Uchiha Itachi.
Sasuke had no idea how long he spent there, watching. The tears had begun again at some point, but their tracks had since run dry once more. He had realised not long ago that he was cold, shivering, but he did not move. He didn’t know if he could, or if he even wanted to. It wasn’t until the dizziness overcame him and his own clouded eyes fell shut that he registered that his breath was barely dragging itself through his lungs. He let his head drop, rested on his brother’s shoulder in the way that it had been so long ago. He gave up then, holding no hope for himself, and not truly wanting to.
Uchiha Sasuke had mastered the art of ambition, but hope was something altogether quite different.
“Forgive me, Nii-san.”