Chapter Text
“Itachi!” a cheerful voice calls.
Itachi squints at the sun beaming in as Shisui rips the curtains further apart. “Rise and shine!”
Itachi chokes on phlegm, coughs and rolls over, propping himself up on an elbow. He reaches over for the bin by the bedside, spits and shuffles to sit. Judging by the blinding sun he should’ve woken up earlier. “What time is it?” Itachi rasps out.
Shisui crosses his arms and strolls across the room, looking around at nothing in particular. He turns on his heel and smiles. “Two in the afternoon.”
Itachi grimaces and raises the bin to his face, doubles over coughing, almost retching into it, spitting what he can. Half of the day has already passed and he’s done nothing productive. He’s got reports to fill out. “You should have woken me up.” In fact he should've woken up at eight, why didn’t the alarm–
Ah.
He glances to the side to find his digital alarm clock turned off on the bedside table. He crouches down to the floor, sets the bin aside and tilts his head. The cable’s been unplugged. “Shisui.” Itachi reaches up for the hairbrush on the bedside table and turns back around to give his cousin a look. “Do you happen to know what happened to my alarm clock?”
Shisui shrugs and leans on the doorframe with a playful grin on his face. “Seems to me you really needed the rest. I’ve made breakfast, or lunch, or… what’s it called? Brunch? Anyway, there’s food in the kitchen.”
“Thank you, on my way.” Itachi finishes brushing his hair and pokes Shisui in the chest with the hairbrush as he stops in the doorway. “And leave my alarm clock be, final warning.”
Shisui grin widens. “Or else?”
“Or your alarm clock will bear witness to my wrath,” Itachi mutters. ”It may never recover, consider yourself warned.” Itachi should get rid of the thing either way, the sound of it is outright horrid. Shisui can get a new one, Itachi would gladly buy one for him. It would be a worthwhile investment, seeing as Itachi himself has to listen to Shisui’s alarm go on for up to an hour on their shared days off. At the very least then he could pick a bearable sound. Or one loud and disruptive enough to get Shisui out of bed, though he's hesitant to risk it, he could end up with a worse alarm situation than their current one.
Shisui guides Itachi’s hairbrush to the side. “Very scary, go eat now.”
Itachi hums and lowers the hairbrush. And regrets doing so immediately as Shisui violently ruffles his hair. Itachi shoves him out the door with a huff and slams it behind him. Shisui laughs. Itachi can’t quite prevent a fond smile from spreading across his lips but it doesn’t matter; Shisui can’t see it.
He quickly changes into the plain shirt and pants of his jonin uniform along with his hitai-ate and heads for the kitchen.
The table is set and though there is nothing wrong with the food, the very thought of eating any of it makes Itachi feel nauseous. He grimaces. Tea. Tea it is.
Itachi looks around and finds the teapot on the counter. There’s no tea ready then. He heads for the kitchen counter, reaches for the kettle, turns the tap on. “Tea, Shisui?”
“Nah, I’m good. Thanks.”
Itachi flicks the kettle on. He reaches for the tea jar on a top shelf, unscrews the lid and sets it down on the counter.
Shisui slouches against the counter next to him, crosses his arms. “I was thinking we’d take it easy today. Besides, the chunin exams are being held in Konoha this year and I got us tickets!”
Itachi pauses, turns his head, teacup in hand. “Why would you do that?”
Why would anyone pay to sit around and watch a couple of genin stumble about? Not to mention all the yelling and people. Itachi doesn't get the excitement.
“Aw, c’mon, little cousin. It’ll be fun!” Will it? Itachi levels Shisui with a deadpan stare but Shisui and his jolly mood is unperturbed. “It’s the grand finale and all that at the arena with the snacks and the cute little genin and the energy and the–”
Itachi tunes Shisui out and opens the far left overhead cupboard and starts digging through his meds, stacking them on the counter below. Multivitamins, vitamin absorbents, salt tablets, enzymes, antibiotics – no those are painkillers. Why are they both the same red kind of oval pill in aluminum packaging? Itachi reaches deeper into the cupboard and pulls out another set of red pills. He sighs. Still painkillers. Where are the antibiotics? Maybe he should reorganize, it’s getting messy.
Shisui leans into his field of vision in front of the medicinal cupboard. “Not to mention the snacks,” he repeats with a sing-songy tone.
Itachi quirks a brow. Is he trying to bribe him now?
Shisui raises a brow of his own and smirks as if to say is it working?
Itachi lets out an amused huff. It isn’t, he’s not hungry. At all. But if it’ll make Shisui happy then… “Fine, I’ll go.”
Besides, they paid already. Might as well drop by. The reports can wait, they won't take long to fill out.
“Great! Now, you’ve taken a day off…”
Shisui holds up one finger. He’s speaking slowly, insinuating in a way that suggests he’s going somewhere with this. Where, Itachi isn’t sure. He frowns. “Yes?”
Shisui raises a second finger. “Now imagen we take two weeks off.”
Itachi can only stare.
Two weeks. Two weeks off? Whatever for? “Why?” he voices aloud.
“It’s called a vacation, Itachi,” Shisui drawls, dry amusement in his voice.
That explains nothing. Again, why? “What would we even do?”
Shisui shrugs, spreads his arms out to the sides. “Whatever we want!” He halts his excitement, scrunches his nose. “It has to be relaxing though, I swear if you bring paperwork I’m burning it. I don’t care how important it is.”
Why now? There is no reason to. Itachi doesn't feel particularly stressed, the workload hasn’t been elevated at all as of late, it’s more so the other way around. Besides, sitting around doing nothing usually just drives Itachi into a restless state of unease. “I don’t–”
Shisui groans loudly. “You skipped out on vacation last time but no more, your vacation-neglect ends here.” Shisui digs through his right pocket and pulls out a small black notebook. He waves it back and forth in front of Itachi’s face. “See here? I’ve got a list, you add stuff you want to see, places you want to visit, things you want to do, all of it! So, you got any suggestions?” Shisui leans closer, blinking expectantly.
“I bet you yourself have got plenty of suggestions already.”
“Maybe…” Shisui’s gaze wanders off into the distance before it snaps right back to focus on Itachi. He beams. “Wanna hear?”
Itachi smiles as he pours hot water over the leaves in the tea strainer. “I have a feeling you’ll tell me anyway.” But he is interested. “Let’s hear it.” This vacation probably won’t be happening but why not indulge in the fantasy? It’s a nice thought.
Itachi turns back to the medicinal cupboard, reaching up for a new box of antibiotics neatly stacked at the top cupboard shelf.
Shisui pauses, the black notebook now open in his hand. He reaches forward. “You know I could just–”
Itachi nudges his hand aside and pulls the box out. “It’s fine. I’m not short.”
“If you say so,” Shisui quips.
Shisui can say whatever he wants. Statistically, Itachi is taller than most. And Shisui is an anomaly. “You’re just tall.”
“Anyway,” Shisui drawls. “I’ve noted down a couple of things already, all just suggestions by the way, we’re still in the planning stage here. You’ve got to add at least a couple of things yourself. This is our vacation after all. Right?”
Itachi looks up from where he’s prying the antibiotics box open. Shisui is looking at him.
Itachi sighs. He doesn’t want to put an end to Shisui’s jovial chatter, it’s welcomed, but realistically this is not going to happen. “I don’t know, Shisui.”
Shisui pouts. “What if I said please?”
Itachi coughs a laugh. What is he? Seven? He looks just like– Itachi presses his lips together, banishing the memory from his mind. “I’m just not sure it’ll be approved. Or if it’s a good idea.”
“Relax, it’s a vacation. We do high ranking missions at the regular no problem. I think we can handle a vacation. What could possibly happen?”
“We’ll get denied, is what I meant. It’s not beneficial for Konoha to send high ranking shinobi on vacation. They would have to replace the both of us with entire squads.”
Shisui rolls his eyes. “You’ve literally never taken vacation. They owe you.”
With the amount of sick days Itachi has had he’s had more time off than Shisui. And at this point he’s not even working full-time; Shisui and the Sandaime have been conspiring against him, assigning him less missions, and grievances aside, Itachi is thankful.
Because no matter how he hates it he needs the accommodations and the lightened workload. He is as skilled as ever, no one is denying the fact. But his body is failing him.
He can’t go on working the way he used to. The food pills cause him rapid weight loss and nutritional deficiencies which in turn brings a whole lot of other problems. He can’t run the way he used to either without collapsing in a coughing fit. He can still fight fine but he can’t run the whole way at top speed to reach his destination. He’ll walk, run in intervals. Unless it’s an emergency in which case he’ll be paying for it during the following days.
He’s already spending a lot of time strolling through the woods, waiting around for missions. He’s got enough time off as is, there is no need for a vacation.
Shisui seems to have picked up on his reservations. “Besides, there’s nothing much going on right now anyway, we won't miss a thing.”
“That may be true but–”
“So! Here’s some of what I’ve got so far: we’ve got to go to at least one festival. I’ve heard there’s quite a big one coming up in The Land of Rivers. I’ve got a lot noted down in here, but they’re usually a yearly thing so it depends on when we go.” Shisui rapidly flips through the pages of his notebook. “Oh and this old teahouse I came across, the old ladies running it were so sweet, I almost felt bad, they were just about handing stuff out with how cheap it was.” Shisui shoves a photo of a traditional house in Itachi’s face but before he can actually see anything Shisui shakes his head and pulls it back. ”I don't understand how they could run a business like that but I suppose the economy is different over there. Anyway – very traditional, they got it all: dango, mochi, manju, taiyaki. All I could think about when I was there was how you’d love it.” A fond smile plays across his lips. “I’ve come across so many places and things I think you’d like and I want you to see it all.”
Shisui halts his rambling, swallows, lowers his voice. “And there’s this old temple. The clan wouldn’t dare go near it; it’s too far south. It’s been abandoned for decades either way, it’s falling apart but it’s… I used to go there as a kid, with my parents. Before it all went to shit.” He mutters the final sentence with a dry humorous huff.
Itachi frowns, steps closer. Shisui doesn’t often talk about his parents. Itachi doesn’t know much about them. They were both dead shortly after the third shinobi war, before Shisui and Itachi became friends.
Shisui softens as he looks at Itachi. “I want you to see it. There are so many things I want to show you.”
Shisui snaps the notebook closed. “Now, where do you want to go?”
“I…” He doesn’t know.
If they were to do this, anywhere with Shisui would do. Itachi doesn’t need it to be anything special. Shisui’s presence is enough. Six years ago everything turned on its head. But Shisui remained by his side throughout it all. Shisui knows Itachi like no one else, understands him like no one else. Itachi doesn’t need anything, anyone, else.
Itachi shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. Anywhere. Nowhere.”
Shisui is the one who always has something he wants to do. And he’ll do it with light in his eyes. He radiates happiness and life. Meanwhile… Itachi feels like a corpse – at times. But around Shisui he feels alive.
Nothing else matters.
Itachi can let go and if things go wrong it doesn’t matter; they will solve it together. They can do anything, they fight perfectly together, fit together, live together. They know each other better than anyone else knows them. They don’t need words, they know each others habits, likes and dislikes, the way the other thinks.
Itachi used to want things. His little brother back. World peace. But Sasuke and the world will have to do without him. He’s tired. He’s dying. He’s happy with what he has.
He’s happy with the silent evenings spent sitting on the edge of the rooftop of their apartment, happy with the nighttime strolls across the rooftops, through the woods, catching fish in Naka river, splashing water at Shisui and getting drowned in return, sitting soaked in front of a campfire, falling asleep on Shisui shoulder under the stars knowing Shisui will have his back, were something to happen. Having someone on his side, someone who’ll have his back no matter what; it’s enough. Itachi has one person in this world he can trust and depend on for anything. He won’t ask for more, he doesn’t need more.
It doesn’t matter where they go. No matter where, no matter when, they’ll be the same. Itachi doesn’t want anything else.
“Here you go.” Shisui raises Itachi’s hand to wrap his fingers around the notebook, nods at it. “My hopes and dreams. I’ve… noted down a lot of things,” Shisui murmurs, a slight smile on his lips. Itachi blinks at a sudden bark of laughter. Shisui’s smile turns wry. “We’ll probably not have time for it all. Not in two measly weeks anyway. But we’ll get there eventually.” Shisui looks up to meet Itachi’s eyes. He lets go of Itachi’s wrist. “You can read through it, see if anything sounds good. See if you can come up with some of your own suggestions.”
Itachi considers the notebook; it’s small, clad in black leather, postcards, receipts and photos tucked in amongst the pages. He nods, slips it into his pocket. “I’ll think about it.”
And he will. He’ll… take a look and think about it. It’s a nice thought. Perhaps they’ll actually go. Someday.
Once he would’ve stressed at the thought of missing something, of not being there, of leaving some responsibility behind. But lately… he has started to doubt whether or not he’s doing good here.
He left Anbu over three years ago. While he never enjoyed Anbu work the missions he carried out beneath the mask were those which held the greatest purpose; these were the missions no one wanted to acknowledge, the missions no one wanted to soil themselves with. Nevertheless they needed to be done.
Someone had to; for Konoha, for the shinobi world.
Self sacrifice, that's what epitomises a shinobi. Never seeing the light of day, toiling in the shadows. That's the way of a true shinobi.
Itachi’s life is nothing next to the amass of lives in this world. He would do what had to be done ; for Konoha, for the shinobi world.
But in reality those Anbu missions never held such great purpose, it was never for the sake of the shinobi world. Oftentimes the very premise of the mission was a lie. Oftentimes it was all to further Danzo’s personal projects.
Three, almost four, years ago Itachi was sent to demolish a tunnel. The Uchiha had been using it to smuggle weapons into sensitive territory.
At midday, Danzo had said, timing is essential. It’ll be heavily guarded. Set off a diversion to the northwest, then head back unseen. Terminate witnesses.
The mission was successful. At least officially. Just one mistake; he left more alive than he should’ve. But it didn’t matter. Itachi pushes Izumi’s tear-streaked face from his mind.
A few days later there was news: Official squads had been hunted down and killed and the Uchiha clan and their new allies were to blame. Out of the thirteen sent on the mission one made it back alive.
It had been strange.
According to the one survivor there had been no provocation. They had simply been descended upon and wiped out.
It didn’t make sense.
Most participants in this mission had been genin, one of the three teams had been recently graduated academy students along with their jonin sensei. They hadn’t been more than thirteen, they could hardly have been much of a threat. Their mission had been something else, they were not fit to take on the clan, they wouldn’t have engaged, wouldn’t have provoked.
Yet they must have because the clan didn’t massacre unprovoked.
The clan had rarely gone on the offense, not like that, not unless they were threatened, not necessarily out of mercy but out of practicality; they couldn’t afford to pick fights for the sake of it, they did not have the same military force as Konoha.
The Sandaime never had much of an interest in hunting the Uchiha clan down, although he too was concerned with its defection and had agreed with the elders; something had to be done. The Uchiha were deserters, missing-nin, they had betrayed their village. Such a transgression could not go unpunished. The Uchiha could not go unchecked, Konoha could not remain idle and simply wait for another attack.
But as the fighting dragged on the voices demanding continued pursuit died down an unofficial fickle truce was put in place. As long as the clan didn’t make themselves into a larger threat they were generally not pursued. The clan knew this and had stayed out of international conflict and attention as much as possible.
But in killing official squads and as many as they had all in one go they had drawn a lot of attention to themselves.
And the squads… they’d been young, inexperienced. Their deaths seemed an unnecessary cruelty. The people of Konoha wanted justice, they called for intervention, for something to be done about the so-called “Uchiha problem”.
Itachi had been frustrated; it never seemed to end. What was the clan thinking? Why would they do this? He didn’t understand it, it didn’t make sense, they broke the pattern and in doing so there would be more instability and fighting. Fighting the clan especially could not afford.
Itachi looked into it because deep down he knew: It had not been unprovoked.
The official Konoha squads had been northwest of the tunnel Itachi had blown up at midway that same day. The diversion Itachi had set up led the clan straight to the official Konoha squads. It was no coincidence. The official squads didn’t just happen to be there. They had been sent there to die.
Itachi’s mission was never about smuggled weapons, never about preventing future battles.
His mission had been to be the instigator.
Konoha would retaliate. But Itachi couldn’t let it happen; they were wrong, it was a lie. He approached the Sandaime, confessed to his involvement and recounted his mission.
Itachi was forbidden from speaking of the issue again; if the public of Konoha where to learn of it they may start to question authority. Konoha could not afford division. Division only leads to more fighting and bloodshed. Konoha had to remain strong and united against foreign threats, the village could not afford weakness. Weakness was an invitation to war.
Itachi understood this but insisted that perhaps it could be dealt with behind closed doors.
The Sandaime agreed. He would take care of the issue.
Yet nothing changed.
Danzo assigned his next mission, Itachi carried it out, waited for the Sandaime to make his move. He’d thought that perhaps he was handling the issue with prudence, a figure such as Danzo was after all not so easily removed.
More funding was dedicated to the neutralization of the Uchiha clan and official missions dedicated to the issue were approved in order to appease the masses. The fickle truce had been broken, there were more battles and more deaths.
Danzo got what he wanted.
As the bodies piled up Root received more funding; they had been surveying the Uchiha situation closely and had the most insight. They were then given the means to “take care of the problem.” Danzo had always been critical of the clan, since the coup and with these new developments his popularity and influence spread even further, his conception of the clan, of the world, flourished.
The Sandaime had done nothing.
Danzo was purposefully stirring the situation, tying his strings, spinning them into webs, uncaring for who got ensnared.
But it would not be Itachi; he cut his strings, he would no longer be pulled and twisted into this tangled mess. He left Anbu. He left Anbu, he left Root, he left the clan.
He left Sasuke.
Danzo has been keeping an eye on him ever since, since before that too. Before it was out of interest, for recruitment. Now… he doesn’t trust him. The feeling is mutual.
Danzo is the one in charge of the clan’s situation. Itachi wants no part in it. However… now that he has stepped into the light he can no longer see the truth hidden in the murk of the shadows.
Everyone is a liar, whether they know it or not. One’s truth may not be the objective truth, if there even is such a thing. Everyone has their pre-constructed notions of what is and isn’t. Everyone warps reality through their own perception. At what point does perception become a lie? At what point does that lie become reality?
Itachi no longer trusts the judgement of others.
(Shisui being the sole exception.)
He has hurt a lot of people, some of which he loved, everyone he used to know. All in favor of Konoha. Konoha above all else. Above the rest of the world even. What for?
Konoha is his village and home used to be the simple answer. A long time ago. But what used to be home is no more. The Uchiha compound stands empty. And that place hadn’t been home for a long time even before…
Konoha has changed.
The clan left ruins in their wake. Itachi is often met with fear, contempt, distrust. It was to be expected. But he’s now one of the remaining Uchiha. Some stare out of some sort of curiosity or fascination.
They stand out. Him and Shisui.
They are known, as where they before. But before they were known for their abilities. Now they are remnants of the clan they themselves left behind. It doesn’t matter what choices and sacrifices he made.
To Konoha they are Uchiha before anything else.
Itachi and Shisui are in the same situation. Though Shisui seems to be managing the situation better, Itachi is unsure whether that is due to his sociable amiability or due to the fact he simply isn’t Itachi: the former Uchiha clan heir, son of Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha. Both widely feared and hated for their devastating roles in the coup.
By the civilians most of all; their homes were brought down, burnt to ashes. People died. They hadn’t expected it, they had never before experienced such violence.
Itachi isn’t his parents, though he has been told he is reminiscent of his mother. It’s not a compliment.
The suspicion and contempt is nothing new. This has been ongoing: ever since the nine tails attack. Though it has of course gotten worse. In light of the coup the accusations against the clan were proven correct, is now the common consensus.
Konoha stands united once more against a common enemy.
Itachi and Shisui… they’re not a part of it. They are outsiders.
Konoha is familiar but it’s no longer theirs . It’s no longer home. But neither is anywhere else.
Itachi’s home is with Shisui.
But it doesn’t matter whether Konoha is home or not. Konoha is more than what it is to Itachi personally. It’s not perfect. Itachi has always known Konoha isn’t perfect.
The conflict between the Senju and the Uchiha never ended, children still die in battle (he shakes the image of Tenma from his mind) and while peace and stability has improved there have been three Shinobi wars since its creation.
But it is preferable to its alternatives.
Konoha is a symbol of peace and unity. Waring clans came together, formed a village and stood together stronger to protect the common well and maintain stability for there to be a place for their children to grow. To live. While it doesn’t deliver on all of its ideals, those ideals still matter.
Many Konoha shinobi do not kill. Love for one’s comrades is encouraged rather than competition.Squads are meant to protect one another rather than throw their comrades to the side in favor of the mission. Jonin senseis are meant to protect the young. Efforts are made to preserve life.
The same cannot be said for every hidden village.
It didn’t use to be like this, even in Konoha. Things are changing in the right direction.
Anbu is a different story. Itachi used to believe in order for there to be light there must also be shadows. After all, how could pure innocence survive in a world so filled with darkness?
However.
At what point does that darkness start tainting the light? At what point does Itachi hurt more people than he saves? At times he carries out missions he knows will hurt a large amount of people elsewhere. Perhaps it is better than that power and influence falling into the hands of others, better than loss of stability and war. But how many lives does it take? And how many lives will be saved?
At times efforts are made to help people, to find the best solution for everyone. But at the end of the day Konoha acts in her best interest. It’s not surprising, it’s not unique, it’s the same everywhere. In the end Konoha acts for her people and for those who pay them.
(And at times in the interests of those misusing the power they’re dealt because the Sandaime won’t–)
It wouldn’t be sustainable to run a Shinobi village any other way.
But that is not what Itachi wanted to do. This doesn’t feel meaningful. He’s not seeing how this is helping the world. What is he doing with his life?
Of course every mission helps financially and every mission is required to keep the village afloat. But does Konoha truly need him?
The village wouldn't collapse without him. Following last year's health crisis Itachi had been out of commission and hospitalized for months and yet nothing changed. The village remained standing, there had been someone else to pick up the slack. Of course he’s a major asset but should he perish Konoha won’t wither and burn. Konoha doesn’t need him, the clan doesn’t need him. They will endure.
Where is he actually the most useful? Does his allegiance with Konoha enable or hinder his ability to make a difference? Would fighting for someone, somewhere, something, else save more lives? But would it even be possible to act on his own? He would be targeted, he is already targeted. Given his health–
A light tug at his hair. Shisui is squinting at him. “Itachi? You in there? Hello?”
Shisui waves his whole arm back and forth in front of his face. Itachi follows the movement, raises a brow. “Hello,” he says wryly in response.
Shisui lights up, throws his hands to the ceiling. “He has returned!”
Itachi glances to the side. “Yes, my apologies. Please continue.” The tea is ready. He sets the tea strainer into the sink.
Shisui sighs. “You didn’t hear any of what I just said, did you?”
Itachi brings the teacup to his lips, blows at the steam. “No.”
Shisui gives his hair strand another tug, harder this time. Itachi scowls. “Ow,” he mutters and takes a sip.
Shisui gives him a pointed look. “Mind telling me what’s going on up there?”
Itachi huffs with a smile, shaking his head as he presses the last pill bottle cap closed with a click. “My hair will start falling out if you keep pulling at it.”
He gathers a couple of pill bottles with one hand, reaches up, stacking them back into the cupboard.
Shisui grabs the rest of them and stacks them in as well. “Stop drifting off then.”
Itachi throws a now empty plastic pill bottle into the trash. “Sit down and eat already, no need to wait for me.”
“Well good, ‘cause I did eat already.” Shisui looks like he is about to say something else and Itachi knows where this is going.
He whips his head around to stare at the table. That’s… a lot of food. His stomach churns with a mix of dread and nausea. He can’t. Not now.
Itachi closes the medicinal cupboard but lets his hand linger on the handle. He rests his head on his outstretched arm, hangs off the cupboard, and resists the urge to groan. It’s going to be one of those days, isn’t it? “Shisui, no. I don’t think–”
“You’re eating all of this.” Shisui pushes off the counter and heads over to the table where he pulls Itachi’s chair out. He pats on its back with an expectant look in Itachi’s direction. “Come on, sit down.”
Shisui really should stop fussing, he’s fine. Emotions hit him in waves; warmth, annoyance, then lassitude.
Itachi drags his feet across the room and drops onto the chair, blowing a few strands out of his face with a resigned breath. He looks out the window.
The sun shines, high and bright on the clear blue sky. They live on the top floor of their apartment complex, Itachi can just barely make out the stone face of the first Hokage, otherwise obstructed by tall structures and more apartment buildings, all painted in different colors, bright and clear. At least the weather is nice, hopefully it’s not too hot.
The chair at the other side of the table scrapes against the floor. Itachi can sense Shisui’s expectant stare. He decides to ignore it.
An old man walks out on the balcony across the street, waters a couple of flowers. They shouldn’t need that should they? They’re outside, isn’t the rain enough?
Shisui bought some plants once but he quickly lost interest and forgot about them. Itachi never bothered trying to keep them alive. Keeping plants seems such an inutile thing. What are they for? They’re fragile and require time better spent on responsibilities of greater importance.
Itachi’s mother used to have a garden.
Shisui is unusually quiet. How long will he keep this up? Then again this stiff silence isn’t all on Shisui, he’s not the one passively ignoring his problems. It's rather childish, really. Itachi should stop putting off the confrontation, it’s a waste of time.
Itachi turns his head to meet Shisui’s stare. Shisui turns his stare to the food, then pointedly back up at Itachi again. Itachi grimaces and glances down. How is he meant to eat all of that with his currently nonexistent appetite? It’s more than he would usually have and he doubts he could even manage the rice right now. “It’s too much.” Itachi turns back to the window, looks down onto the street below.
A woman passes by, grocery bags in each hand. A mother judging by the little boy by her side, chattering along, kicking at pebbles. He looks to be around Sasuke’s age. Sasuke used to help with the groceries. The woman looks nothing like Itachi’s mother, the boy looks nothing like his brother.
“You missed breakfast,” Shisui persists.
Itachi glances down. There’s a hair tie on the windowsill. He reaches for it, gathers his hair. “I just woke up, I’m not very hungry.” He finishes tying his hair and leans his temple against the wall.
“Itachi, malnutrition is a serious condition that causes loss of–”
“Loss of muscle mass, a worsened immune system, fatigue, as well as poor health in general and, in my case, a drastically decreased life expectancy.” Itachi turns his head to meet the intensity of Shisui’s eyes. “Yes, I know.”
Shisui stares, gaze flickering across Itachi’s features. He draws a breath and starts tapping his fingers against the table, nods. “Good. Then you must also know this is the recommended amount.” Itachi knows , but his body doesn’t. He swears he’s trying. Shisui flashes a grin and continues. “Twice the calories a day keeps the doctor away! And that’s according to your doctor.” Itachi slumps in his seat. “And he should know,” Shisui adds as an afterthought.
Itachi eyes the food: a plate with tonkatsu, bowls with rice, miso and ohitashi.
Itachi doesn’t have the energy to deal with all of this; medication, prescriptions, nutrition, hospital visits, doctors. And so he oftentimes doesn’t. But somehow Shisui does have enough energy for the both of them. If Itachi neglects his health then Shisui will take care of it in his place.
Itachi doesn’t want him to, he doesn’t want to pile his own problems onto Shisui. He never asked him to take care of anything.
But he will because he cares.
It’s frustrating to have someone care for him when he knows he makes it difficult. Shisui keeps a sunny exterior but at times Itachi catches a pained look and Shisui’s pain is more unbearable than the actual illness itself. Yet Itachi can’t bring himself to accept his care; Shisui deserves better than to spend his time making up for Itachi’s failings, he can take care of this himself and quite frankly the coddling gets annoying. If Itachi stumbles, why can’t Shisui simply let him fall?
And at the very same time Shisui also deserves better than to have his efforts be refused.
Itachi buries his head in his hands, elbows against the table surface and stares down at the bowls and plate, at the food Shisui cooked when Itachi himself can’t cook. He never bothered to learn, not when take out is that much more convenient, fast and affordable. Yet Shisui bothers. He puts in the effort into these things.
Itachi doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve the endless depths of Shisui’s positivity, warmth and care. Not when all he offers in return is complaints, exhaustion and grief.
Shisui is holding him upright, Itachi is dead weight pulling him under.
Itachi takes the bowl with rice in one hand, chopsticks in the other. Another wave of nausea hits him at the smell of the fried pork: full of fats oils that he can not take right now. He leans away in an attempt to escape the smell of the rest of the food and picks up a piece of rice. It proves difficult to swallow but he finally manages to choke it down with some water.
Itachi picks around with his chopsticks. This isn’t working, how much can he force down without triggering a gag reflex and vomiting?
Shisui leans over the table and Itachi looks up from his rice. “Are you meeting your weight gain goals?”
Itachi lets out a sigh. They both know he isn’t. “I know, you’re right. But…” Itachi’s recommended calorie intake is way too much. Pushing it won’t help. “I won’t gain weight if I throw up.”
He’s been throwing up every few days for the past couple of weeks. It’s not necessarily something to worry about, it happens from time to time. It just makes it harder to maintain his weight and keep his meds down. It’s just been worse as of late. A bad sign; it might be the first sign of a flare-up or chest infection. But there is no need to share his worries with Shisui, not yet.
Although Shisui must be drawing his own conclusions as to why Itachi isn’t eating, of course he’s not just being difficult for the sake of it. Hopefully the nausea will pass before they have to address it. Hopefully there won’t be a flare up. They don’t need a repeat of last year.
Shisui leans back and crosses his arms with a stern look. “And you won’t gain weight if you don’t eat.”
Itachi's chair scrapes against the floor as he stands. “Let's just go, I’ll eat later.” He grabs a bag of matcha dorayaki from the counter and holds them up. ”I’ll bring these,” he says even though he doubts his own ability to actually stomach them. Maybe later.
“Those aren’t exactly healthy. They’re like half sugar.”
Itachi gives Shisui his best innocent smile. “Whatever do you mean? They've got…” – he checks the backside of the package – “three hundred and ninety-nine calories.” The dorayaki bag crackles as he shoves it into his pocket. “The more calories the better, right?” That’s not exactly true, because refined sugar is, unfortunately, never the healthiest option. But not entirely false either; calories are still calories. It should be better than nothing.
At one point he was literally encouraged to eat ice cream.
Shisui had just about panicked at the prospect of Itachi’s prescribed unrestricted high-calorie high-fat diet which essentially meant “eat whatever you want as long as it gets your weight up.” Are you kidding me? Shisui had just about yelled and Itachi had barely been able to hold back his laughter and it did not get any easier as Shisui and the dietician started arguing.
Oh no no, do not encourage him, he’s got a sugar addiction already, you don’t understand: he’ll overdose.
Itachi smiles at the memory. Shisui lost that argument, it was to be expected. He was debating a dietician on diet. He’d picked a losing battle.
And so Itachi got to eat whatever he wanted to his heart's content.
Unfortunately that only lasted for about a month.
Alright, enough of this, Shisui had said as he pried the huge half-eaten ice cream pack from Itachi’s hands. We’re getting a second opinion. I refuse to believe this is healthy.
And because Itachi can’t have nice things in life Shisui was right. While no amount of sugar, fat or anything else got him overweight, or even to a normal weight, the risk of diabetes and nutritional deficiencies amongst other health concerns and chronic diseases, was apparently still a problem.
And so now he’s stuck practically drinking sesame and olive oils.
After a long pause Shisui snorts. “Alright, I give up.” He raises his hands and shakes his head, gets to his feet. “For now,” he warns. “You’re eating this once we get back. And dinner too.”
Itachi grimaces. “I will,” he promises and pulls his green jonin vest off the hook by the door, pulls it on, zipping it closed in front. He sits to secure his sandals, grabs his weapons pouch just in time as Shisui pulls him to his feet by his wrists and out the door.
“Come on, hurry up, hurry up!” Shisui keeps pulling at him even as Itachi plants his feet. Gods, he’s like a big child.
“Patience, I’m locking the door.”
The moment Itachi pulls the key from the door they’re running for the stairs.
***
The walk towards the arena is spent in content silence. Shisui strolls by his side humming on some melody, his jonin vest left open, his hands in his pockets.
There are others heading the same way although they’re a bit late. Most have likely already arrived at the arena, the spectacle is starting any minute. The mood of everyone around is overall jovial.
Someone is watching them.
It happens often; he’s one of the two Uchiha still on duty residing within Konoha and is thus well known amongst civilians and Shinobi alike.
The clan’s defection was big news around the entire continent. Following the coup Itachi himself caught a lot of attention. He had been the clan heir of one of the most infamous and feared clans in the entire shinobi world and thus his estrangement from and betrayal of his own kin made for an intriguing story to say the least.
Which is likely why the bounty the clan put out for him is far higher than it reasonably should be. His defection was and still is an ignominy and they want to purge the scandal he is from their reputation by moving him off the playing field. As things stand Itachi continues to very publically tarnish the Uchiha name. Once he would have argued they were the disgraceful traitors tarnishing the picture he’d had of what the clan could and should have been. He no longer cares. The clan and the Uchiha name; he would be glad to be rid of them both.
He could do without the attention; without the S-rank bounty hunters, without Orochimaru and the other bloodline thieves, without Danzo and root.
It could be any one of them watching now. Of course the spy may not be watching Itachi specifically, Shisui also has a sizable target on his back, many within Konoha do. But the spy is following, steadily and at a regular distance, keeping up pace.
Due to the chunin exams there are many foreigners passing through whether it’s for trade, political meetings between villages or to partake in or watch the exams. And so it could also be someone with a grudge from another village.
But it’s most likely root; bounty hunters are unlikely to target him in Konoha, as are most others, Orochimaru likes to spy but surely he gave up in his pursuit after their last encounter.
Itachi reaches out with a light stream of chakra in the direction of the spy yet it doesn’t provide much, though the movements and specific location of them becomes more clear. The chakra signature of the spy is jumping across trees in the distance, wandering the branches. Itachi won’t make further attempts at sensing, sending out more chakra might alert the spy to the fact they’ve been compromised. Itachi has all he needs either way.
He considers alerting Shisui but decides against it; it’s an unnecessary risk. Shisui will catch up.
Itachi activates his Sharingan and and a shunshin.
Itachi reappears on a branch of a tree where the spy should be but the chakra signature is gone. Itachi cliches his jaw, concentrates, sending out another subtle wave of chakra in all directions and turns, scanning the foliage for visible chakra or any other visual indications.
There.
Itachi jump to the next tree and tumbles into Shisui who pops out of thin air right in front of him. Shisui catches him in a hug and spins them both around to lose the momentum. “Aw, glad to see you too!” he quips.
Itachi ducks out of the embrace. “Will you please stop that?”
Shisui grins. “Never.” Shisui turns in a circle, hands on his hips. “So, what’re we doing in the trees?”
He crouches down and traces the slight dent in the bark with his fingers. There are slight traces of chakra used to push off the branch and make a speedy exit. “Someone was following us.”
Shisui leans against the tree trunk and sighs with a fond smile, apparently content with simply watching. “This reminds me of when I taught you tracking, do you remember?”
Yes, Itachi remembers. “Not the time.”
Itachi swears everything reminds Shisui of something, can he please focus?
“You were adorable.”
“Shisui.”
Shisui hums and activates his sharingan, glances around. “Yep, there’s definitely been someone here.”
Finally. “This way.”
Shisui catches him by the arm. “Good job, dear student! You’re absolutely right! However, the arena’s that way.” Shisui throws a thumb over his shoulder.
Itachi pauses mid-step, turns back around. “You want to just ignore this?”
Shisui waves vaguely in the direction where the intruder left. “It’s probably another Root agent, they stalk you all the time. And me. I thought we gave up on killing them?”
“We should confirm it, if it isn’t Root then–”
“Itachi,” Shisui whines. “Whoever they were, they're gone by now and we don’t have clearance with Root and poking at them will only get Danzo back on our asses. Again.” Itachi opens his mouth but Shisui covers it with his hand. “And we would need something more concrete in order to report it, ‘I think I saw something’ isn’t good enough.”
They might find something more concrete if they would just go looking. But Shisui is right, it’s unlikely they will.
But can’t they go look anyway? Itachi likes being out here in the woods with Shisui, there’s no other people, no one to bother them. Out here they can exist in peace. It’s quiet, peaceful and all around pleasant.
Can’t they go to the ravine by Naka river instead? Itachi doesn’t care about the chunin exams.
Shisui puts an arm around Itachi’s shoulders. “Alright, chin up. If your stalkers become a problem we’ll deal with them, okay? Don’t worry.”
The arena behind them erupts with cheers.
Shisui jerks his head in its direction. “Sounds like we’re missing out.”
Itachi rolls his eyes. Hardly. It’s the chunin exams. They’re all genin fighting for chunin rank: it can’t be that impressive. Itachi hadn’t been impressed when he took them.
“C’mon, let’s go.” Shisui holds his fingers in a body flicker sign.
Itachi lets out a resigned sigh. “Wai–”