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The silence is stifling in the near empty run down bar called, The Akatsuki.
What few people there are, sit quietly, their heads down lost in their own desolate thoughts.
Everyone has a different story to tell, the only thing they all have in common is that they chose to drown their pain in alcohol in this hidden world.
The air is heavy here.
Stale.
Dusty.
Disgusting.
This is not a bar Itachi would ever think he’d be in.
No music, no women, no men, lousy alcohol... This was not his typical type of bar.
Tonight however wasn’t a typical night.
He takes a shot of ...something.
He’s not sure what he’s drinking anymore but it burns as it goes down and that’s what he wants, what he needs.
The pain makes him feel better.
Makes him remember he’s alive.
A tear falls.
He is quick to wipe it away.
Crying is not an option tonight.
The bartender, Kisame the name tag reads, silently appears as if he was called and refills the shot glass with more golden liquor.
Itachi nods in thanks, rubbing his face violently as another tear makes its way down his cheek.
The somber thoughts screaming in his head makes it hard to control his emotions.
What ifs, I could have done this or that bounce back and forth in his brain refusing to leave the past where it belongs.
Kisame the bartender gently taps his shoulder bringing him back to reality, causing Itachi to focus his somewhat blurry eyes on the shark-like man in front of him.
“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is raspy and deep. Despite the disturbing thoughts Itachi can’t help but feel a twinge of arousal. Voices are one of his weak spots. However the arousal dies as soon as he sees the look the man is giving him. The sympathy on his face fills Itachi with a white hot burning rage. It’s irrational and uncalled for but he can’t help it. He doesn’t want sympathy, he does not want pity, he doesn’t want to talk about it. Except he kind of does.
He wants to scream at the nosy man. He wants to tell the blue hair, beady eyed man to mind his own damn business, pour him another drink and fuck off.
He wants to hit something or better yet someone.
He also kind of really wants to just let it all out. He wants to cry and rant and shout about the injustice of the world and how God has forsaken him… or maybe how he has forsaken the word of God.
He does none of that.
Instead Itachi throws back the shot, glares fiercely at the man causing him to flinch slightly before abruptly standing. Kisame takes a step back with a wary look but otherwise remains calm.
Itachi didn’t realize just how tall the other was until he stood up. WIthout acknowledging the bartender, Itachi walks over to the dirty jukebox while pulling out a quarter, placing it in the machine.
An ex he had years ago told him that music heals the soul and that it says things we can’t say for ourselves.
She wasn’t wrong.
The machine lights up and the playlist that Itachi can pick from comes up.
He takes his time picking out a song.
Surprisingly it has many songs from artists that Itachi loves on the best of days; Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, Bon Jovi and others of similar nature. He contemplates the different songs slowly before rejecting them for some reason or another.
Tonight though was not a day for them. Today was a day for bitter songs, angry songs, broken songs, really any song that could reflect his mood.
He settled on a guilty pleasure song and artist, Fallin by Macklemore.
The machine whizzed and whirled while shuffling to the right CD.
The jukebox goes dark right as the first melody plays.
Itachi waits in anticipation, staring at the box as if his gaze would make it magically work.
After a few minutes of nothing he sighs and places his head on the filthy glass for a very long moment.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breaking the thing even more will not make you feel better. Alcohol, on the other hand, will, at least for a little while.
With his tail between his legs, Itachi returns to the bar. He places his forehead on the slightly wet wood and sniffles quietly so as not to alert anyone that he is very quickly approaching the edge.
The soft click of a glass near his head makes him jump a little. Dean turns his head so his left cheek is pressed against the wood and his face to the glass. He stares in confusion before lifting his head to look at the man.
“This one's on the house.” Kisame says in a whisper before walking away to serve another lost, depressed soul.
Itachi follows him with his eyes for as long as he can without moving his head before sitting up slowly, pressing his hands on the table while eyeballing the glass.
The glass is bigger than the shots he was drinking earlier.
He sniffs the amber liquid. Whisky?
Itachi isn’t sure but still lifts it to his lips and takes a large gulp.
The drink is strong. Stronger than what he was drinking before. He wants to cough as it slides down his throat but he refrains just barely. This is a drink that puts hair on a boy's chest as his father would say.
Itachi hates it.
He drinks it all.
He looks around the establishment for the bartender. As he does so he notices that there are four patrons, including him, left.
Kisame is standing a ways down, wiping the counter in circular motions as he eyes the other patrons for some reason or another, his eyes do not stray over to Itachi. He can’t help but notice the way the guy’s muscles flex as he makes large to small circles as he cleans.
As if feeling eyes on him the bartender looks up and their gazes meet. Itachi blushes at being caught. Instead of bringing attention to the red on his cheeks, Itachi lifts his empty glass up and shakes it in a silent question.
Kisame nods, a smirk on his lips, whips the small dish rag over his shoulder and grabs a large bottle of the amber alcohol.
He walks over to Itachi and pours him a double shot in the glass.
Itachi’s right eyebrow raises.
“You look like you could use a little extra pick me up.” A shrug.
A moment of silence passes as Itachi stares blankly at the wall, gently twirlin the drink in his hand without taking a sip.
“My offer still stands. I’m here if you want to talk.” Kisame mumbles as he takes the rag off his shoulder and begins to clean the counter to Itachi’s right.
Itachi takes a sip. Another. He ponders over the sincerity of the stranger words. Tears them apart and tries to make sense of the kindness.
It’s been awhile since ANYONE has shown any ounce of tenderness towards him.
No one has ever offered to just listen to him especially after rebuking the first offer. Most just shrug it off and leave.
He sighs.
“I have been shunned by my people. Shunned by my family, my friends, my community and my church.”
Itachi sniffles in an attempt to man up and not cry like a baby.
He fails.
A few tears escape and race quickly down his cheeks.
Itachi uses his sleeve to wipe his face aggressively. A large hand holds a napkin up to his face in offering.
“Why’s that?” He questions softly.
“It’s a long story doc,” Itachi can’t help but to say sarcastically while taking the napkin, “Gonna need more drinks and time if you want to know why.”
The shark man smiles.
“Lucky for you I have a copious amount of alcohol for us and as much time as you need seeing as you're the last one left.”
A quick glance around shows that Itachi is indeed the last one left.
“I’m sorry! What time is it? Oh I’m holding you up!” He begins to panic, his body tensing. It’s just like him to hold someone up. A fuck up like him can’t do anything right.
“You’re probably tired and want to go home and I’m that asshole customer keeping you from doing that. I’m so-”
A hand grabs Itachi’s arm gently, stopping him mid apology.
“Relax. Breathe. It’s ok. I live right next door so I’m not in any rush to get home. Besides, I can stay open as late as I want. It’s my bar. You can stay as late as you want. What’s your name?”
Itachi does as he’s told, breathes in, breathes out forcing his strung up body to relax.
“Uchiha Itachi. My name, that is. It’s …” he blushes as his sentence trails off.
“Pleasure to meet you Itachi...so why are you shunned by everyone?” Kisame asks not to mention the rambling. He leans toward the other by leaning on the counter, his elbows resting ,what looks to Itachi, uncomfortably on wood.
“I did something… bad.”
Itachi sits quietly for a minute or two after that statement.
Kisame let’s him think.
He suddenly and quickly grabs the bottle of whiskey on the counter and chugs some of it down before Kisame gently pulls the bottle away from his face. He doesn’t reach for the bottle, instead taking a napkin and wiping Itachi’s face.
The fear, the pain, and the depression disappear and courage, pride, and defense take its place. He does not necessarily regret his actions, it was for a good reason after all. He’d do it all again if it meant protecting Sasuke.
He stares directly into Kisame’s eyes.
“My name is Uchiha Itachi and I killed my parents in front of my brother.”