Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Dead By Dawn ❯ Shame ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Naruto. Man, I wish I owned Itachi, but sadly I don't. Wah! *silently sobs and not owning Itachi's sexiness*

Warning: blood and gore, violence, uchiha-cest... chapter contains sexual content.

Chapter 2- Shame

Kisame smirked, his white sharklike teeth glistening in the moonlight. He stood, leaning his tall muscular frame against the massive sword, white tattered bandages falling around the broad sword. He chuckled a blood laced laugh while watching his partner hungrily. He was loving this. Itachi was devious and he loved every move his partner made.

"That is very touching Itachi. Using your little brother in such a way." Kisame eyed Itachi eagerly, wanting a few more bits of information to take in.

Itachi's small frame stood before Kisame motionlessly, his skin glowing in the pale moonlight. His cold eyes held his partner in disregard.

Kisame spoke again, pushing the silence of his partner further. "So Itachi, once he brings us the Kyuubi, then what about your brother?"

Itachi fixed his blood eyes into Kisame's, his one word cutting deep into Kisame. His menacing smile quickly faded, the glistening teeth retracting back into their dark cavern, and Kisame swallowed his words quickly.

Silence reigned between them, as a chilling wind blew between them sounding the eerie cling of the Akatsuki bells which hung from the abandoned Akatsuki hats. It was like funeral bells to Kisame, as the pressure began to grow in his chest. He knew he shouldn't have pushed Itachi in his silence, that was dangerous. He swallowed the lump down hard as the silence grew colder, and the chilling wind began to settle between them, letting Itachi's presence fill the void as he just stood there, stending his icy glare to his now solemn partner.

Kisame let out a deep breath as he drew it back in, cold sweat dripping from his brow, as he prepared to literally break the ice.

"Obsolete." Itachi cut him off, taking him by surprise. His smooth voice sliding down the ice towards Kisame.

In one smooth motion, Itachi turned, relieving Kisame of his cold gaze as he began walking slowly away.

His brother is obsolete? Heh, how cold. "Where are you going?" Kisame asked, breathing a sigh of relief from the broken tension.

Itachi did not break in his stride, nor did he turn around. His small frame vanished quickly into the shadows with his final words.

"To ensure my brother's obedience."
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I wandered down the streets of the Uchiha complex staring at the ground. I watched as the clouds sent shadows casting across the dirt, then broke, making way for the moon to light it once again. I looked up from the ground. The booths were abandoned now, paint peeling from the sides, cobwebs layering over old cracks that etched over the wood. Dust lined the counters on the booths.

The wind blew once again, sending an old screen door screeching through the silence. I stopped and took in a deep breath, then slowly let it out exhaling the sorrow in my chest. Could I really change all this? Could I really have it all back? I closed my eyes, my mind racing behind my eyelids. What would it feel like... to not be the only one? I opened my eyes... and as I opened it, the darkness was lifted from the street...

The street took on a new brightness, as if a sun was shining its hopeful rays upon it. Two young children ran across infront of me playing with a kite string, their faces bright and happy. I looked to my right, and the counter was no longer lined with dust. A fresh blue paint, uncracked, covered the side of the stand, and fresh baked bread was cooling on the counter, it's smell drifting in the warm breeze filling my nostrils.

I rounded the corner and looked in on the ramen shop. The smell of fresh broth filled the air. As I walked into the shop, the air became lighter, filled with laughter and warm smiles. I walked up to the bar. I could see them, Itachi sitting beside Shisui in the corner. This is where they always came for lunch when Itachi was not on missions. I could see my uncle serving them a warm bowl of ramen, the steam wafting up into his face, a smile on it.

"You boys eat up. You need your strength for the next mission." My Uncle's voice. What would it feel like to hear it again? Is that what it even sounded like?

I thought hard trying to place it on the right frequency, the right tone, and found I was at a loss. I looked over to Shisui, sitting beside the wall. His dark bangs hung over loosely in his face, his hair in a high pony tail. He was laughing, that high musical laugh that could always fill the air. It was always so warm. I could see why Itachi liked being around him. They were always together... always...

I felt a ping of jelousy in his heart. They were always together when they weren't on a mission. If I came along, I was a third wheel... I looked over to Itachi. He wasn't smiling at Shisui's laugh of course, Itachi never smiled. He had that same solemn look on his face, his brows were fixed in silent contemplation. He nodded his head lightly to Uncle's comment and Shisui thanked him brightly.

Shisui breathed in the smell of the broth, the steam wetting his face. He looked over to brother and began gabbing about something, that gleam of life in his eyes, glowing. No wonder brother loved being around him so much more than me. I felt the jelousy grow deeper. Here Itachi is spending his free time with Shisui again instead of me. I could feel it. I could feel the pain in my forehead.

"Can I come along aniki?"

That flick to the forehead, like I am some pest, that leaves it red and sore.

"Tomorrow otouto."

The jelousy surged up inside my chest, and before I could stop it my fist was flying towards Shisui's face, his smiling oblivious blissful face, and it flew right through him like a ghost and collided with the brick wall behind him.

I sucked in deep quick breaths, the cold air raking my throat drying it, as Shisui slowly faded back into the past, and the bright red bricks turned into an old rusted color lined with dust and cob webs. The air thickened into a musty scent absent of ramen and broth, and the light darkened. My eyes slowly adjusted to the change, as I felt a warmth trickle down my nuckles. I looked up to see my fist had broken through a cob web. Slowly I pulled it from the wall, the cob web breaking with a sickening crisp. I could see a small hole in the wall dotted with trickles of my blood.

I looked down to my bruised hand lined, the nuckles cut up with dirt lining the bright red marks, and blood clotted up in the dirt down my hand. It ached, stinging from the cold. I could only stare at it. I felt so foolish, so stupid. Shisui is dead and here I am trying to hit him. My heart ached. I'm trying to beat up a dead man over Itachi? I closed my eyes, my head hurting from the effort.

"If you want him Shisui, take him. I don't want the murderer." I spat with as much hate as I could muster. And the words left me cold.

And I began to wonder, if I have my family back, what will I tell them? A smile came to my lips. Itachi will no longer be the star prodigy of the clan. Not after they learn the truth. Father will be training me then, like he use to train Itachi. I will have all the attention he use to give Itachi. I won't be some pest to send to his room.

"Father, can you teach me the Great Fireball Technique?"

"No Sasuke, I'm training Itachi this evening. Go ask your mother."

"But she's cooking."

"I said no. Go study in your room."

A pain settled in my heart. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how desperately I crept towards the outline of Itachi's shadow, it will always be there, casted over me. Father would never accept me unless I surpassed Itachi.

"Itachi, you once again successfully completed your mission. That's my boy!"

Itachi always successfully completed his mission. Father was always proud of him.

"Sasuke, Itachi is the clan's future. He is the pride of the Uchiha clan. Because of him, our clan will be the strongest clan in Konoha. Try to understand this..."

No matter how hard I tried to prove myself to father, it was never good enough.

"You did good Sasuke. If you keep this up, one day, you may be as good as Itachi."

I just wanted him to say 'thats my boy'... he never said I was his boy.

I could still hear Itachi's voice calming me the night before he slaughtered my clan...

"That's enough Sasuke." Itachi's voice was so smooth, so calm, despite the obvious tension.

"No! It's not enough! And it never will be! No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, you never notice me father! You always tell me one day I might be lucky enough to be like him!" I pointed my trembling hand accusingly at Itachi. "But I'm not Itachi! I'm not like him! I'm me! You act like Itachi is some god and he's not! He's human! Why can't you just let me be free!"

A harsh smack echoed through the air. I raised my trembling hand to my aching face, and my pointing finger fell to my side. A sense of shame over came me, as floods of sorrow washed through me. I could feel my hot tears sting my aching cheek. Father had struck me. What's worse he did it in front of my brother. I could feel both of them, father and Itachi, watching for what I would do. Itachi's inquisitive gaze on my back held me much stronger than father's angry one. And the shame... because father had struck me, and I would once again look weak in front of my brother...

"I hate you." I spat venemously to father. My voice was calm now, a dangerous low calm. I continued to speak calmly, hoping my words would cut him like he had cut me. "I hate all of you. I wish you were dead."

And the next night they were. I had never felt so guilty in my life.

I stopped in front of my house. This house was the only clean one in the entire complex. I had tried hard to keep it clean since the massacre. I stared at it a bit dazed as I slowly became aware of where I was. I had been walking in a daze. I didn't even realize where my feet had carried me. I blinked, realizing my face was wet, and reached up to touch my cheeks. I brought my hand down to look at it.

Tears. I had been crying.

I pushed the door slowly open and entered the vast space. It was so empty inside, so large. It was always so quiet. I stood in the door way for a moment remembering how Itachi use to enter just like this after his missions. I could see my small form racing down the stairs, taking them two at a time. My face would always light up at the sight of him. I would run up and jump into his arms. He would always catch me.

"Aniki! You're home!"

And then it would happen... the thing he never did for Shisui, that always made me so special. A small glint of warmth would cross his eyes in a flash, and if I had not been looking for it, I would have missed it.

"Hello, Otouto." That calm, solemn voice, the one that meant I was home.

I climbed the large stairs to my room and pushed open my door. I crossed the floor to my bed and flopped down on my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. I can still feel it, the guilt. The knowing of the fact. I wished they were dead, and they died. And now, if I wish they were alive, they would be alive.

Is this some kind of game Itachi is playing with me? I felt the sickness rise in my stomach as I turned my head and looked out the window. I watched as the shadow trees swayed in rhythm with the wind. I knew deep in my heart I couldn't do it. Even if I had all my family back, I couldn't live with it again. I couldn't survive that guilt again. I could not have another loved ones blood on my hand.

Naruto.

I can't kill him. It would kill me. That horrible, crippling guilt.

I slowly closed my eyes, trying to imagine the warmth the house use to hold. I tried to imagine it blowing over me. I could feel it now. Warmth against my neck, blowing over my face.

"Sleeping, otouto." Itachi's voice whispered into my ear.

I shot up in bed, eyes wide, to come eye to eye with two blood red sharingans. I froze instantly. His eyes locked me in place, I felt every muscle tense in the hold of his icy eyes, seized by his presence. I felt trickles of cold sweat begin to bead over my body soaking into my clothes. And I suddenly became aware of all. The silence of the room filled with my beating heart. My pulse, how it pushed against my temptles, my hands that gripped the bed, my heavy legs that sank into the bed, my neck cutting off the air... my neck?

The air began to suck through my throat noisily. I can't breathe!

I stared into his blood eyes, his cold cold eyes, as he watched without a single trace of emotion as I slowly suffocated. I stared at him desperately, unable to move, as I silently begged him to stop.

Slowly, he leaned forward, his face still as the room, his hand pushed me down onto my back, pushing against my chest into the bed, forcing the last few breaths to leave my lungs starving me for air. He toward over me, eyes analyzing every twitch, every movement of my eyes, as if contemplating the worth of killing me. He leaned closer still until his face was dangling over mine, his breath gracing across my face mocking what I wanted most to do now.

"It isn't polite to break deals, otouto." He spoke in the calmest voice, laced with a deadly hint of danger.

And then he released it, the air rushed into my starved lungs pushing my chest out against his hand. He watched me calmly, taking in every moment of my breath. Relief flooded me, relaxing my muscles beneath him, as I melted into the bed. The pulse beat throughout my body, taking the desperately needed oxygen throughout it.

"You... bastard..." I choked out breathlessly. Slightly dizzy from the oxygen rush.

He cocked his head lightly, an inquisitive flash across his cold eyes telling me his mind had begun to contemplate again. My muscles tensed again. He began slowly stroking my chest, drawing circles on it, as he continued to dangle his face over mine. I watched his expression, cold, blank, as his icy eyes cut through me to my soul, reading it for every desired answer. His eyes a deep red of the dead sea.

"Beg me."

"W-what?" I spat.

His eyes stared blankly back at mine, no hint of emotion, has his eyes began to contemplate my every move. His strokes became rougher, as they began to dig the circles into my chest.

"Like when you were young. Beg for my touch."

I stared at him shocked. Each stroke began to send a wave of disgust through my body. I shuddered beneath him from the ministrations, and grew cold quickly beneath his touch. Then, suddenly, I felt my throat begin to close off again, and I felt his hand tightly fist the skin on my chest.

"Okay!" I felt the muscles in my throat relax, along with his grip on my chest.

I looked away from his face in shame, a deep blush coming across my cheek. I felt so naked beneath him despite my clothes. So vulnerable.

"Touch me." I whispered, I could taste vomitting in my throat from the sickness.

Itachi slipped his hand under my sweat dampened shirt and began tracing circles around my right nipple. I could feel his soft hand gliding easily over my sweaty skin. My heart raced a little. The sweat began to evaporate leaving goose bumps covering me. My breathed quickened as the blush grew even deeper.

He was my brother, how could he touch me like this? This is wrong, this is disgusting. This attention he's giving me. Attention. My breath began to quicken. I have my brother's full attention now. I felt his hips push into mine roughly as he placed his soft lips on the shell of my ear. Then he whispered in his calm, emotionless voice.

"Touch you where, Otouto."

Shock seized through my body at the implication. I kept silent, my heart rate steadily increasing from my brother's attention. He was so close, I could feel the heat radiating from his body. I felt him rock his hips once more into mine. He was rock hard. I blushed harder. My brother was hard for me.

Every emotion that washed through me with that one motion spun my head. Excitement; flattery- that it was me he was focusing this on, not Shisui or anyone else, me; disgust, that it was my brother; disgust, that I was feeling this; shame, that he is the murder of my clan; sorrow, over what I'm not sure; and a strange burning sensation I could not place, but I felt drawn to scratch it.

Itachi flattened his hand on my chest and pushed me harder into the mattress, as he gripped my chin roughly and jerked my head towards his. I could feel his finger bruising my chin, as he burned his cold blood eyes into mine. I expected to see lust, love, wanting, something in those eyes as his, but I saw nothing, and I felt my heart sink with the rest of my body into the mattress. He just bore into me, with those powerful blank eyes of his. But whatever he saw in my eyes, he seemed satisfied, as he tilted his chin up slightly with an air of expectance.

"What do you want, Itachi." I spat bitterly, feeling somehow rejected over the attention I had thought I had recieved.

He released my chin and began stroking beneath it thoughtfully, like I was some kitten or puppy he was playing with. He watched me carefully, as if mathing out my every move.

"Well?" I said impatiently.

His strokes paused. He looked deeply into my eyes.

"You like your aniki's touch, don't you." His silky, calm voice washed through me.

I stared at him in shock, shaking with the anger. "No, I don't! Quit touching me!"

I smacked his hand out from under his chin, then froze in place. I waited for the aftermath, the wrath, but it never came. He held me in his knowing gaze, as if I had just entered his trap once again, and then he stood quickly and began moving slowly towards the door. The cold of the air entered the space his body left, chilling my blood quickly. Alone entered me once more where Itachi had momentarily occupied, and the stillness of the room returned.

Itachi paused momentarily at the door, placing his hand delicately on the frame, he turned his head slightly to look at me, his ebony hair sharply contrasting his pale features. He seemed like a ghost standing there, tall and dignified, the cloak dangling from his small frame, and those blood eyes burning every memory once again into my mind.

I watched him with anticipation. Was this it? Would he finally leave again? Leave me where I was in time unaltered?

Because every disturbance in the ripple of my life comes from Itachi. And every spiral out and in comes from him. My life began with him standing there, by the crib, over me, and it will end with him standing over my grave.

He stared back at me, knowingly, eyes fully satisfied.

"Do you wish the clan stay dead?" His calm voice filled the room, reverbating off the walls deep into my skull.

My body froze. I hate you. All of you. My blood ran cold. I wish you were dead.

"What do you want, otouto."

I wished they were dead, and they were dead. Now, if I wish they were alive, they would be alive.

"Quit playing with me Itachi." I hissed, stomach turning from the illness.

Silence. The pulse threaded through my body. I felt weak. Like my limbs were weights keeping me grounded to this reality. The chill, the freezing, all an illusion, but an illusion that chills me none the less. I wished them dead, and then he killed them... is it my fault they all died.

"What do you want, otouto."

Because I was too weak to protect them. Because I was weaker than him.

Because I was too weak to prove myself to father,...

And I shamed myself before them.

I weakly raised my head and met Itachi's eyes once more, those gems of blood.

"I want to live."

My voice, so weak, so shameful.

"And the clan?"

"I want them to live."

"Then bring me the kyuubi by dawn."

Naruto.

Tears stung the corners of my eyes. I can't do it.

"I cannot kill him."

"You're weak otouto." I shot my eyes up and glared at him. "You are too weak to save the clan. Their blood is on your hands."

That smooth, velvet voice, calm as ever, it flowed through me, chilling my blood further with the truth...

I wished for their deaths. I am too weak to do what it takes to get them back. And for that... their blood is on my hands.

I glared into his icy blood eyes as he stalked through the door and disappeared into the shadows. I stared at his form, long past its absence, out into the shadows of the hall. My fists gripped my pants tightly, unable to let go of what they once held.

Can I do it? Can I kill Naruto to resurrect my clan? My heart clenched in my chest.

I stood and began to follow where Itachi's form was in the door, down the stairs, and past the threshold of the front door.

I needed to see Naruto. I needed to look in his face. It's the only way to answer my question- can I do it. Can I kill him? I need to see him. It's just a visit, nothing more, I swear it.

Either my clan or Naruto... one of them will be forever dead by dawn.

And the guilt will be my own. And the blood will rest on me.

A/N: Itachi basically just manipulated Sasuke. He remembers Sasuke wishing the clan was dead, and he just used his guilt to push Sasuke towards getting the kyuubi for him. He left knowing Sasuke would visit Naruto.