Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ My Immortal ❯ My Immortal ( Chapter 1 )

Ritatzu:// Written a long time ago, in an alternate universe where Uchiha Itachi had not yet explained his true meaning formassacring his clan and was still alive. Please bear with me.

 

 

DISCLAIMER: Ritatzu does not own Naruto or Naruto: Shippuuden; Itachi is also not a gay emo teenager who cuts himself. (No offense intended for gay emo teenagers who cut themselves - we kid the gay emo teenagers who cut themselves!). At least that's what Ritatzu thinks. D=

 

I'm so tired of being here

Suppressed by all my

Childish fears

 

It was those stupid dark eyes that reflected such earnest compassion, soft, twitchy little fingers that massaged Itachi's shoulders when he arrived home after a particularly excruciating day of training. His voice, a sweet chirp as he complimented his brother's impressive ability, drove him mad with a sickening remorse.

 

And if you have to leave

I wish you would just leave

Because your presence still lingers here

And it won't leave me alone

 

So long since he had laid eyes on the little fuzzball; but it seemed as if he was still there, clinging tight to Itachi's hand as if he would disappear if he didn't hold on tight enough. He would be gazing up at his dear nii-san, begging the answer with his eyes, `Why did nii-san do what he did?'

 

These wounds won't seem to heal

This pain is just too real

There is just too much that time cannot erase

 

The damn kid didn't understand! He didn't know what he'd gone through since…that day. The world had lost its luster, the colors faded to a distant black-and-white. He'd be plagued with nightmares - always the same, always twisted - life wasn't worth living anymore.

 

And why had it been?

 

When you'd cry I'd wipe away all of your tears

When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears

And I held your hand through all of these years

 

“We're the closest, aren't we, nii-san?”

“…sure.”

“And we'll be together forever and ever and always and always, right, nii-san?”

“…perhaps.”

 

But you still have…

All of me…

 

“The look on your face when you found out it was just a lie.”

 

You used to captivate me

By your resonating light

But now I'm bound by

The life you left behind

 

That kid…he had charm. Itachi felt it resonate, deeply, in his chest. He had an aura - a beautiful aura. He was pure. He couldn't be corrupted. Every time Itachi would close in for the kill, he would think, “Is this what he would do?”, and slit the victim's throat, savoring the delight of spilling another's blood onto his fingers.

 

He was like freshly fallen snow.

 

Your face, it haunts

My once pleasant dreams

 

At least, pleasant by his current standards. Too often, Itachi would see a small, pale face framed by silky black hair gaze at him suddenly before he was about to experience eternal pain. A trembling, sweaty hand would emerge, and clutch at Itachi's and a soft voice would tremor: “Will you stay with me?”

 

Oh, pain! Sweet, painful pain! Why did you leave me?

 

Your voice it chased away

All of the sanity in me

 

The stupid little voice, crying its stupid little cry for a brother that ceased to exist too long ago, belonging to the stupid, stupid little boy. “Aren't we the closest, nii-san?” “Will you stay with me, brother?” “…we'll be together forever and ever…right, nii-san?”

 

No, brother. God forbid, hell no.

 

These wounds won't seem to heal

This pain is just too real

There is just too much that time cannot erase

 

The scars of self-inflicted cuts during his teenage years on his arms would twinge, at times, reminding of what he'd given up for a few moments of happiness. But it was all good: the bottled-up pain had suddenly been materialized, and he was able to shed it in the form of blood. It was those damn mental cuts that he would regret forever.

 

Why had it been him? Why did they choose him for such a project, such an evil plan?

 

The bloodstained skies wept with him, crying silvery tears for him, and only him. The moon was his shrine; he'd come to seek comfort. The silken teardrops touched his face; Itachi welcomed them, lifting his visage as if to receive a kiss from a lover, not nature's pity.

 

When you'd cry I'd wipe away all of your tears

When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears

And I held your hand through all of these years

 

“Nii-san…? What is that on your arms?”

“Cuts from sparring. Go back to sleep.”

“But, nii-san…you're so distant lately....”

“Get the fuck back to sleep.”

“Nii-san…I love you, I just wanted you to know-”

“I SAID GET THE FUCK BACK TO SLEEP!!”

 

But you still have…

 

“You poor, naïve little creature.”

 

All of me…

 

“You do, little brother…let me go. Give me back. Leave me alone. You don't exist in my view. I don't love you. Why?

“Because there's no such thing.”

 

I tried so hard to tell myself

That you're gone

But though, you're still with me

I've been alone, all along….

 

How could he be?? The damn little bastard probably threw himself into the river the morning he woke up: such a wimp couldn't possibly do anything. He couldn't be close to Itachi - never!

 

But he was.

 

You can't be here, Sasuke. In my point of view, you don't exist. You're not worthy of my acknowledgement.

 

But you are.

 

Why are you still here?

 

Stop it.

 

Get away from me.

 

I hate you.

 

When you'd cry I'd wipe away all of your tears

 

“Stop crying, Sasuke. Big boys shouldn't cry.”

“O-OK, nii-san…”

*shiftyresumecrying*

 

When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears

 

“Shut up, Sasuke. What the hell are you doing up this time of night?”

“…there's a ghost in m-my room…”

“Ghosts don't exist. I'll go take a look.”

 

And I held your hand through all of these years

 

The silver droplets trickled down Itachi's face, plastering his silken black hair to his skin. Hot tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. `So lucky it's raining like this,' Itachi thought idly to himself. His dirt-crusted fingers reached for something warm, something of comfort, almost indistinctively. He wept silently, gently, as he found soft, kind fingers that he held on to with his own, the latter's elegance diminished with too many, too hard years for an age like his.

 

Itachi did not turn, for he knew it was his little brother. He caressed the gentle fingers, feeling the suppleness in the thinly-lined digits. He felt the hand throb with a faint heartbeat - badum, badum - in his palm. A tranquil mist seemed to come to rest around him. Itachi was content, for the first time in too long.

 

“Brother, where were you all this time?”

 

It was only Itachi and Sasuke.

 

“Waiting for you.”

 

Sasuke and Itachi.

 

But you still have…

 

I just want you to know, kid…

 

All of me…

 

I love you.

 

All…

 

“Itachi…”

 

Of me…

 

“Itachi…”

 

All…

 

“Itachi!”

 

Me….

 

“ITACHI!!”

 

Itachi twitched forcibly. Tears now flowed freely from his crimson eyes, though the skies' lachrymose cloaked them. The hand was jerked from his; Itachi could still feel the soft imprint of a young boy's hand. A disembodied voice was calling him, hesitant at first, but now angry and annoyed.

 

“What?” Itachi snapped, trying to act as indifferently as one could after being cracked out of a reverie. “What the hell do you want?” He was ready to challenge even the gods for interrupting his time of peace.

 

“You were feeling my hand,” said Kisame uncomfortably.

 

 

 

The End! <3

 

 

My Immortal © 2003 B. Moody/ A. Lee/ D. Hodges; Evanescence; Zombie Ate My Publishing and Dwight Frye Music, Inc. (BMI)