Naruto Shippuden Fan Fiction / Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ The Preferable Path to Perfection is You ❯ Strength and Then Some ( Chapter 15 )

Disclaimer: The characters, items, places etc of Naruto are property of Masashi Kishimoto. These objects are used without permission for entertainment only, not for making money. No infringement is intended.

Chapter 15: Strength and Then Some

Itachi was incredibly disappointed when he awoke a few hours later to find he was alone in the bedroom. He had been hoping Deidara would be waiting, but of course that was unrealistic. He didn't have a key for a start- yet another thoroughly brilliant non-move on his behalf, of course.

He pulled himself up to a sitting position and leant back against the headboard, trying to straighten his mind. Growling in frustration, he furiously rubbed the contacts he had left in by mistake out, ignoring the sting that resulted from his harsh treatment.

He really did feel like an idiot in pretty much every way possible, tilting his head back and looking up at the ceiling as he attempted to ignore the throbbing he had caused.

He wasn't feeling much better. He really hoped he would but he knew until Deidara got in contact as promised and said he was coming home- yes, home, he'd get a key cut and everything- Itachi wouldn't be able to relax and feel good.

Sasuke was missing from the room. Itachi wasn't surprised but he simply didn't have the energy to go looking for him, pulling his knees up to his chest and encircling them in his arms tightly. It was lacklustre comfort but it was better than nothing, though he thanked that he wasn't feeling quite so self-piteous anymore.

He finally dragged himself out of the bed when he realised he was achieving nothing by staying, heading into the living room and being greeted by the sight of a small cinnamon cake resting on his table. Next to it was a roughly scrawled note in his brother's handwriting, leaving Itachi to fetch his glasses to read it while waiting for the kettle to boil.

[Itachi,

Save some for the idiot. I'm sure he'll come back and if he doesn't, I'll get his address and mail it to him with some anthrax or something. You know he doesn't deserve you, right?

If you need me to come back just give me a call, but I thought you might appreciate some space. Also- if you want things to work out, you need to do something about your complex ruling you. Break it somehow, okay? Even if he doesn't come back it'll do you some good.

Sasuke.]

Itachi lowered the note to the side with a heavy sigh, knowing Sasuke was right but unsure how to tackle the issue at hand. The complex was as much a part of him as his arms or legs were, and to try and force it away was similar to removing one of those. It was unhealthy and the original reasoning for its existence had passed but that didn't mean he was easily rid of it.

He had been trying at points like when they'd been out in the storm together, and unfortunately hadn't made much progress beyond a few bursts of courage in certain situations. It wasn't a long term solution- not by a long shot and that was what he needed.

His mind flittered back to Deidara as he took up a knife, retreating to the table with his coffee and cutting a slice of the cake. It was still warm, indicating Sasuke hadn't been gone very long, but he inwardly smiled as he took a bite- he preferred it that way, anyway.

How did a person go about changing their mental state? The first thing that came to mind was pills, which he ruled out. That wasn't quite what he meant- he wasn't someone who opened up easily anyway and least of all to a doctor.

The second thing that presented itself was the one that frightened him the most- a lot of willpower and the desperate need to succeed.

He laughed slightly to himself, knowing that was eerily similar to the effort he put in to _be_ so perfect in the first place. The tables were turning quite nicely. Now, if only said tables could turn until he realigned his life with Deidara then he'd be a much happier person _and_ he'd forgive the brief interlude over the irony section of the life game-board, too.

The following day arrived with no sign of Deidara, leaving Itachi to wake at five am and resign himself to heading to college. He was beginning to lose a little hope- surely Deidara would have got off the train if he made his mind up, rather than travel the entire way to come back? There was only one reason Itachi could think that he would go all the way there for and it was one he refused to dwell on.

He was resistant to change. He had routines that he didn't dare deviate from, because if he followed the same set path he knew so well he wasn't liable to make mistakes. However he'd laid in bed the night before, unable to sleep because he'd been thinking over what Sasuke's note had told him. The complex had to go, regardless of the outcome between him and Deidara.

It was a frightening thought. He'd lived his entire memorable life under its curse- from being five years old and knowing coming top of his new class meant his father took him to the fair, to being sixteen and passing all his exams with the highest grades possible and earning a trip to Paris with his father for the weekend.

Perfection reaped rewards and while he never really cared for the actual reward itself past the age of about eight, he did care that it caused their hardworking father to spend some time with him.

He had realised he had a problem when he was fifteen. He should have noticed it sooner but it was Sasuke that pointed it out to him- ten year old Sasuke, who never had to fight for his share of the parental affection. Itachi had been studying for his mock exams when Sasuke had come into his room, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching him curiously.

He had asked a simple, childlike question- 'they aren't real exams, so why are you trying so hard?' Itachi had simply waved a hand at him to leave lest he lose his concentration, but his younger sibling was persistent. He had stated something Itachi had previously refused to acknowledge thinking about.

'Why do you try so hard to get Dad's attention? Is it really worth it?'

Itachi had lost his temper immediately, sworn at him and physically forced him to leave. Sasuke had cried and told on him and their mother had berated him for treating the youngest of the house in such a shameful manner, leaving him alone on the bedroom floor surrounded by paper, textbooks and a deafening guilty silence.

He was taken aback by his own actions- he never lost his temper, he never let stress get the better of him, he never cursed unless particularly provoked- which, really, he hadn't been. It was an innocent question from a child who had never known the affection Itachi received, so therefore couldn't miss it.

Sasuke was also only a ten year old child. How had he managed to simultaneously trigger all of those reactions in him? Itachi had simply put his pen down and attempted to think it over, finally coming to the conclusion once he was in bed that night. He had to be perfect else his father wouldn't notice him or wish to spend time with him.

He had to be perfect to be loved.

The revelation had shaken him to the very core, and he resolved to do something about his own attitude. The first thing he'd done the next day was apologise to Sasuke, and the second was to attempt to break the habit of a lifetime.

He had slowly broken himself of the need to spend time with his father, his trip to Paris being the last before he'd deliberately asked to move out to help his progress. He had done well- it was almost the reverse now, where the need to be perfect remained but the need for parental affection certainly didn't.

Yet here he was now, years later standing next to the mirror and struggling with the idea of tying his hair in a high ponytail because the progress couldn't come fast enough. A change in hairstyle was hardly an imperfection but it was a change, which he also struggled with.

Baby steps, he had told himself, but it was mostly an excuse. He finally forced himself to tie his hair up off of his neck, stepping out of the bathroom immediately so he couldn't see his reflection and change his mind. He made a mental note to avoid any unnecessary reflective surfaces he might catch a glimpse in, too.

Part one of his master plan- complete. Now all he had to do was step off the porch, get in the car and go to college. He sighed and clutched at the doorframe before stepping down and slamming the door with more force than really necessary. Today, he decided, was not going to be a good day.

Once he arrived, he parked and hesitated before stepping out of the car. Making his way to his first class, he felt incredibly self conscious. In his mind, all eyes were on him and he was trying desperately to convince himself people really didn't care if his hair was tied high, low, not at all or even cut to above his ears. It didn't matter.

The back of his neck felt strangely exposed, leaving him rubbing a hand across it lightly, feeling tiny wisps of hair at the nape as he did so. The ponytail was tied tightly and felt uncomfortable, but he was determined to keep it there.

In memory of Deidara's interventions, he had decided somewhere between the front gate and his car when he'd been close to slapping himself for his idiocy. He'd been out once with his hair tied up and the world hadn't collapsed, so he could do it again. Just because Deidara wasn't there didn't mean he was incapable!

Did it? He mentally stamped the thought down- yes he was a capable, rational adult!

He sighed and ran a hand up to his hair once more. No, he really wasn't, was he?

Once he was seated in his first class he had to mentally force himself not to rip his assignment from his bag and attempt to correct the mistakes he had deliberately made. It was only a couple of spellings- nothing catastrophic, but imperfect none the less. The notion was threatening to eat him alive and he pushed it down as best he could.

He glanced around at his fellow students for a distraction, relaxing just a little when he realised no-one was watching him or even looking at him. He put a hand to his ponytail once again, resisting the urge to yank it out and restyle it. It was so damn irritating that he could have screamed, let alone what it represented. How did Deidara have his own tied up so tightly all the time?

He sighed, his eyes falling on the desk in front of him. Did everything have to come back to the artist that had seemingly taken up residence in his mind? He checked his mobile phone for a message- just in case, despite Deidara not owning a mobile. He made a mental note to correct that for him if (when, he told himself, not if) he came back.

By the time his teacher had arrived he was struggling so much with the idea of handing in an imperfect assignment that he'd managed to make himself feel sick, chiding himself for the foolishness of the situation.

Almost every other student, if not all of them, probably had mistakes on their assignments he had told himself. Yet it had made no difference, leaving him to push the nausea away and try to relax until the end of the class when he could just hand it in and run away.

Within moments of attempting to tune into the teacher's words he realised it was impossible. Images of Deidara danced in his way and obscured his mind and vision, forcing him to think about him and only him.

Not paying close attention wasn't anything new for Itachi, but he liked to be in control of that. He wasn't anywhere near in control of anything right then.

He slipped his assignment out onto the desk at the teacher's request, eyes scanning it and landing directly on a particular spelling mistake he already knew the location of by heart.

'Reluctance'. A reasonably easy word to spell in his opinion, currently etched onto the page as 'relucktance' and driving him so unbelievably mad he couldn't bear to look at it any longer.

It was all too much.

Feeling panic starting to overtake him, he did something he was a master of when he felt cornered by a situation. He hesitated and held a hand gently in the air to attract the teacher's attention, causing him to halt and look intrigued.

"Yes, Itachi?"

It was at that moment Itachi realised that every single set of eyes in the room were now on him, causing him to freeze. He really did need to think these things through more often, rather than fixing on the 'run away' part and getting no further in the thought. Panic destroyed his usually very rational and functional mind it seemed.

"Itachi?"

He had no idea what he was supposed to say! He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, mentally wracking his mind for a reasonable excuse for interrupting and getting out of there.

He had always despised interruptions and therefore had caused only one on the day he'd come in on no sleep and thoroughly wretched, instigated by the teacher and not him anyway.

In short, he had no idea what he was doing, opening and closing his mouth like some kind of idiotic fish and struggling not to pass out from the sudden lack of air he was experiencing.

Panic, his mind kindly informed him. He was actually going to have a panic attack in the middle of the classroom because he was incapable of opening his perfect mouth to speak.

It was a bad day, he decided. A horrible, terrible day where the teacher was now beginning to look at him strangely for his lack of speech, prompting him to try and push back further panic under the added pressure.

The day he had met Deidara had been because he had interrupted- and now here Itachi was, on the other end of the scale. A tiny smile quirked the edge of his lips before he quickly pushed it down, aware of the eyes on him. What a full circle indeed.

"Could I go to the bathroom please?" He finally asked. Was that even going to work? He had never tried- not to be confused with never having the need to try, of course, because being perfect meant being infallible (inhuman) and simply getting on with the work regardless.

Or once, coming up with an elaborate plan involving getting a book from the library and the need to retrieve it right then, (yes then, not after the lesson, just let me out the classroom and don't make me tell you the real reason because I'm perfect).

He was aware his thoughts were racing and he suddenly understood the idea of a flashback before death, mentally smacking down the ridiculous scorecard that popped up in his head boasting Complex- 1, Itachi- 0.

Was he delusional now or just mentally impeded? He wasn't dying- he was waiting for an answer. Unfortunately his mind didn't seem to have received the memo, convincing him he was going to die very soon if he didn't start breathing in air like a normal person.

The teacher was frowning in confusion at him, so Itachi frowned back. It was a simple question! He didn't want to think that he was currently be analysed for the 'fault'. He rationalised with himself- what else could he say? He highly doubted 'may I be excused to panic in the hallway about the misspelling of the word reluctance?' was going to be accepted very well. Complex- 2, Itachi- 0.

"Class only started five minutes ago," the teacher pointed out finally, the reason for his confusion now apparent and of course, nothing to do with imperfections. Regardless he waved Itachi to the door without any further complaint.

Itachi gladly slipped out, shutting the door and closing his eyes to collect his thoughts. He marvelled for a moment that he had somehow managed to make the situation worse for himself, his breath coming in heaving gasps as he tried to calm himself- rather than ignoring the stupid spelling mistake, he had managed to attract the attention of the entire class. He closed his eyes to dizziness as he attempted to calm himself down, berating himself for reacting in such a manner.

He felt a familiar burn to his eyes- oh, he was going to cry now was he? He growled, pushed himself off of the door and forced the burn to recede- no he damned well wasn't. Complex- 2, Itachi- 1. He smirked, heading in the direction of the bathroom anyway so he didn't feel so bad for lying.

Once inside, he caught his reflection in the mirror. A mistake- it led to him pulling the hair tie out and letting his hair fall loosely around his shoulders. Exhaling, he tied it back in its usual position at the nape of his neck and tried not to feel too disappointed- he was trying, and that was the most important part, surely? Complex- 3, Itachi... He sighed and shook the thought free. He refused to have a mental scorecard of his failure following him any longer.

The most important thing was that Deidara returned so he could have some support in his endeavour to rid himself of his mental issues, he warned himself as he splashed water over his face. He wanted nothing more than to simply leave and go home, but he couldn't- he'd already taken the day before off and besides, he'd left his bag in the class.

Toying with the idea of collecting his bag, faking illness and leaving, he made his way back through the halls to his class. It took a little persuading in his mind, but he decided he would stay- but only because he was already feeling dissatisfied enough with himself as it was.

The thought that Deidara might be sitting on his doorstep, waiting for his return, floated through his mind but he quashed it quickly. Deidara knew his schedule and if he did return, it would be his own fault he was stuck waiting.

Itachi re-entered the room and refused to meet the eye of anyone in it, slinking back to his desk and noticing with a start his assignment was missing. That solved that mental trauma at least, because going up and wrestling the teacher to get it back really would be ridiculous.

His mind questioned the notion and he mentally beat it down and demanded it be silent. In retaliation, it launched images of Deidara on his doorstep at him, waiting for his return- sad, rejected, lonely...

He was pathetic, he told himself with a heavy sigh. Completely and utterly pathetic. It was really going to be a long, long day.

Deidara wasn't sitting on his doorstep. Itachi tried very hard not to feel too disappointed as he walked slowly up the garden path, but he was. The day had been a trying one and all he wanted to do now was slip back into normality- even the normality where he and Deidara simply lived together but hadn't confessed their feelings.

He smiled bitterly as he withdrew his key from his pocket- he really did hate disruption to his orderly ways. At least he'd managed to put his hair back up high- not an easy task, but one he had managed none the less.

He hesitated on the doorstep, the hand holding his key pausing inches from the keyhole as something rather alarming dawned on him. A set of googly eyes adorned the small gold lock, causing him to almost fall backwards off the step in realisation. As he regained his balance, a flash of light from behind him made him spin around so fast he almost fell once more, turning his gaze to a familiar blond sitting in his tree.

Deidara gave him a wave and a smile, holding his camera in his hands. He let it drop back around his neck and quickly clambered down as Itachi approached. The artist grinned and opened his mouth to say something, but he was silenced as Itachi practically threw himself into his arms and hugged him so tightly he found it difficult to breathe.

"Thank you," Itachi murmured in his ear, clutching Deidara as though he would vaporise into nothing if they broke apart. "Thank you for coming back."

Deidara lightly nudged him off, retrieving his suitcase from the other side of the tree where he had hidden it. "You thought I wouldn't?"

"It crossed my mind."

Deidara gave him a soft smile, cocking his head slightly in question. "Why?"

Itachi returned the smile, feeling dazed as he indicated over his shoulder to the personified front door. "Let's go inside?"

"Can't we stay outside? It's not a bad day today, yeah."

Itachi had no intentions of arguing with anything Deidara wanted right then, settling down on the crisp grass underneath the tree without complaint. Deidara sat next to him, a wistful smile on his lips.

"I got you a gift."

Itachi frowned as Deidara opened his case, pulling out a small wrapped present. The paper was a shiny red, a huge silver bow plastered clumsily on top with a star shaped silver tag. Itachi, remembering the manners instilled in him as a child to read gift tags before tearing into the present itself, flipped it over to inspect it.

'Itachi- I thought you could do with this. Be careful with it!'

A single kiss underneath the message gave Itachi a reason to smile as he gently tugged at the paper, unravelling it to be presented with a small, plain box.

Deidara sat expectantly at his side, beaming as Itachi struggled with the sellotape momentarily before finally getting into the plain box to reveal the item.

"A new clock," Deidara explained, though it was needless as Itachi was quite aware what it was. "You never replaced yours, yeah."

"Thank you," Itachi replied, turning it over a couple of times to inspect it. Small, black and currently without batteries- he was sure he could fix that later, setting it aside and thanking that the ice had been broken between them.

"Are you here to stay?" He murmured quietly, half of him wishing not to ask in case the answer was no. He wanted to stay right there forever, basking in the glory of Deidara and his infectious charm. He didn't want to know if he was leaving. He didn't want him to leave ever again, full stop.

"I did a lot of thinking," Deidara replied quietly after a few moments of contemplation. "I wanted to work out if there was room for me in your life alongside that need to be perfect of yours, yeah."

"Sasuke warned me things may not work out if I don't rein the complex in," Itachi responded, his voice equally soft.

Deidara glanced round to him, seemingly surprised. "He knows?"

"He's known for a while," Itachi shrugged. "How I feel, anyway. I needed to tell someone."

"That someone probably should have been me, yeah. How did he take it?"

"He reluctantly gave his blessing."

Deidara snorted lightly. "Like I care for his blessing, yeah. Though, I suppose he's only ninety eight percent of a jerk now."

"He made a cinnamon cake yesterday. I saved you some."

Deidara's face lit up. "Only ninety percent jerk, then."

Itachi let the remark slide, pushing the conversation back on track to what he felt was the more important issue. "The reason I didn't tell you wasn't just because I wasn't sure if you returned my feelings-"

"Itachi," Deidara cut in. "Wasn't it obvious I did?"

"It was more I didn't want to upset the balance I have in life," Itachi pointed out, ignoring the interjection. "I had to weigh up whether I wanted perfection or you. You were right when you said I needed time to think as well."

"You chose perfection right until the last second. That's what I was afraid of, yeah."

"Not through my own desire but yes- I did," Itachi agreed. He had no intentions of being anything but honest, as much as it was killing him to talk so candidly.

"But when you actually left I realised it was a good thing you'd gone, even though I hated it. I needed that, because it let me see what I was losing. I can't promise to change overnight, but I want to try."

"I did see your hair is tied up today."

Itachi's eyes darkened slightly. "You have no idea the hell I put myself through today. I asked to leave the classroom. I've never done that. I misspelled words on my essay and handed it in anyway."

Deidara looked impressed, giving him an encouraging smile. "I'm glad," he replied softly. "I know it's going to be difficult, but I'll be here with you. I want to give you the chance to change, yeah."

They sat in silence, hands entwined lightly in the grass that neither of them remembered initiating and both sets of eyes gazing up towards the overcast sky. "So where does that leave us?" Itachi finally asked, feeling Deidara grip his hand tighter in response.

"It leaves us right here in your front garden," Deidara replied. "It isn't so small anymore, though."

With that he leaned over and gently pressed their lips together in a soft kiss, one hand lightly gripping the back of Itachi's neck as he did so.

Itachi melted into it, leaning back against the trunk of the tree as he lost his balance slightly- Deidara was leaning against him, but he didn't care for being unsteady right then.

Instead he wrapped his arms around the man he had been chasing for far too long, feeling as though he might just explode in sheer joy as he took in his taste, his lips, his soft hair beneath his hand- everything, it was everything he had hoped for.

He realised with a start as they parted that for those brief moments, the complex hadn't mattered. They were sitting in full view of the path behind them in the garden, where anyone could have walked past but he hadn't given it an iota of thought.

He hadn't been plagued with thoughts of his own kissing ability either- a worry that had crept into his mind over time that he'd pushed away in embarrassment. The smallest of smiles played with the corner of his lips before he finally let it take over, lightly brushing a hand to Deidara's cheek.

"Thank you for coming back," he breathed. "You never did answer my question. Are you staying?"

Deidara's tongue flicked across his lips just a little, a flicker of a grin on his face. "The college are going to be pretty annoyed with me, yeah."

"Do you care?"

"A little," Deidara admitted. "Not enough to go chasing it, though. I'm sure the other college will suit me just fine."

"I'll get you a key cut," Itachi promised.

Deidara smiled at that, cupping Itachi's hand on his cheek and bringing it down so their hands were lying on the grass, still locked in place. "Thanks, yeah. I appreciate it."

They stayed that way, leaning back against the tree with joined hands and simply watching the clouds float by peacefully.

Itachi smiled as he squinted against a particularly sharp ray of sunlight, wondering when he had last felt so tranquil and coming to the conclusion that he didn't think he ever had.

He brushed the thought aside- it no longer mattered when he had a suspicion it was something he would be feeling for a while to come.

Regardless of anything else, Deidara completed him. Right then, that was really all that mattered.

Complex- 3, Itachi-

He smirked to himself. Itachi- the dark horse, the victor, the who cares? Itachi the happiest man alive?

That would do, he decided as he leant against Deidara's shoulder. That suited him just fine.

Chapter End