Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ When We Were Young ❯ One-Shot

“You're a big brother now!”

 

“...What?”

 

I knew something about a baby, but I didn't think it would be such a big deal.

 

It's just a baby.

 

Mother had been away from home for a week, and my father said nothing of the matter. Before she left, her stomach was the size of atleast two watermelons. I thought she had just gotten fat, but I thought wrong.

 

Our house had always smelled of food. Mother would always be making something delicious smelling, and the odor would always drag me to her, asking for some. And she would smile and give me a piece. Being such an affectionate mother, she was never one to deny me any.

 

It had been a month, and our house smelled so empty and dusty.

 

When she brought the baby home, you wouldn't call me excited. I glanced over at it as she passed me in the hallway, but I blew it off like dirt. However, she was never one to hide her happiness. She knelt down in front of me and unveiled my brother from the blindingly white blanket it was nestled in. The small fleshy thing was staring at me with big black eyes, a toothless grin plastered on its face. I looked up at mother with confusion for a split second before returning my vision to the child. It was pale, like me, and I could barely see black hair sprouting from his head. I looked at mother again, and she smiled widely.

 

“Sasuke.”

 

I rolled the name around on my tongue. Sasuke? Sasuke...Sasuke Sasuke Sasuke Sasuke. Such a bland name. It made me want to hiss it out like a snake.

 

“Sssssassssssuke” I tried it out, and it sounded amusing. My mother thought it was, and laughed quietly at me as she stood and walked into the guest room that was soon to become Sasuke's room. It was right beside mine, and I would soon regret that.

 

The first few days he was home, his crying and wailing was incessant, ringing throughout the entire Uchiha household. I ignored it most of the time, but I couldn't help but feel sorry for the baby. Is it in pain? Is it sad? Or is it just in need of always-on attention?

 

I chose the latter. Babies are so needy. I was too when I was one, but isn't everyone?

 

At night, its painful cries were echoed through the empty house. Mother was always the one to attend Sasuke, never had I seen father come to his aid. I suspected father was extremely irritated with its loud behavior. I didn't see why he never wanted to hold him or tend him.

 

Why did he hate children so much? Why did he dislike his very flesh and blood?

 

The questions were puzzling, but I let it off easily.

 

I am an exceptionally light sleeper. When mother would go to Sasuke at night, I would listen for her footsteps, her cooing, Sasuke's happy whines, the rustling of blankets, and her footsteps back to my father. I would wait for the sound to die down, until all I heard was light breathing and the chirps of crickets.

 

One night, I quietly entered Sasuke's room and loomed over his crib, watching his slumber. His hair had grown out longer than when he was first admitted into the family atleast 6 months ago. It was almost to his ears, and it was even darker than my own. I hadn't realized he was awake, and his obsidian eyes stared at me widely. He had looked on the verge of crying, and I panicked. Mother would be angry with me if she had found out I had woken him right after she calmed him. I put a finger to my lips and made a shushing noise. He stopped, thank god. Such a smart child, he was. He smiled at me, and I could see the slight whiteness of an incoming tooth. He wriggled about in his bed and giggled as I pet his head.

 

Little brother.

 

When I was eleven, Sasuke was five. He had refused to speak. I didn't even know if he understood what anyone was saying to him. He kind of just stared at them blankly. By that time, I had already gained the power of the Sharingan, not to mention I had graduated from the ninja academy and I was a chuunin. Little Sasuke wasn't even considered a ninja in training. He could barely hold a kunai, his hands were so small. He would pull on my shirt and hold up the kunai to me, and I took that as him wanting to train with me. I always tried to get out of it, because I knew he wasn't old enough and he could get hurt easily. But he wouldn't take no for an answer, and so we would train. It was hard for me to restrain myself for him. Mother would kill me if he got injured.

 

By the time I was thirteen, Sasuke had finally started in the ninja academy. Unfortunately for him,

 

I was the greatest ninja in Konoha behind Hokage-sama.

 

I was the youngest ANBU squad leader in recorded history.

 

I was the youngest to ever master the Sharingan.

 

I was the youngest to ever become chuunin.

 

What was Sasuke?

 

When Sasuke was six, he had called me Ni-san. He never calls me by my name, just Ni-san. It was his first word, and whenever anyone asked him something, he would smile and repeat my title over and over again. It was his own language, and only he knew what he was saying.

 

When he was in the ninja academy, his need of attention from me grew bigger, but so did the ANBU. He knew I had to work a lot, but he still never gave me slack for being late or saying I would train him later. I barely had time to sleep. And when I did, he'd crawl into my bed and snuggle up next to me so the next morning, we'd be splayed out awkwardly, sometimes hanging off the side of the bed.

 

At the time, my family was asking too much of me. So was the ANBU. They would both get angry from even the slightest blunder, and it left me stressed and irritated. They always expected the best from me, and when I didn't give it to them, they would often dismiss me. Everyday when I returned home, there would be a little boy standing outside flailing his arms as a signal he was there, screaming the only word he knew.

 

Ni-san.

 

The word never got on my nerves like it did with everyone else. Through rain or fog or snow, I would see his excited little body jumping hysterically as he called out to me.

 

Ni-san.

When I reached him, he would squeal and grin, calling out my title again. And I would respond with a ruffle of his ebony silk hair and a smile.

 

Those smiles disappeared after I killed Shisui two years later.

 

I had decided:

 

Everyone was dead.

 

The Mangekyou Sharingan was the most interesting technique I had ever learned, and I decided I was going to try it out on my family. On everyone.

 

Even you, Sasuke.

 

I had never seen you so scared in your life. I wasn't surprised either. Seeing mother and father dead did some horrible things to you, not to mention you watched it happen over and over again in your head as I let the Mangekyou loose. The blood was let flow freely, and the color was the same as my eyes. It was enticingly beautiful. But to you, it was the most horrible, gruesome, frightening thing in the world. And I watched as you ran from me for the first time in your short life.

 

I followed you, and when I appeared before you, you practically screamed from terror. I would have smiled to that. It was time you learned of what violence can bring. And that was all you needed as I let the Mangekyou throw you into unconsciousness.

 

I was on the ceiling, but you didn't notice me. I was hidden in the shadowed corner. The hospital you were in was too white for me to hide well, but I still did. When you awoke, your eyes shot open, remembering all that had happened last night as your family was slaughtered by your very own Ni-san. And after only a short moment, you burst into silent tears.

 

You cried for a full hour. I had wondered where all that liquid came from.

 

Tears? For me? Aw, you shouldn't have.