[He watches, wary, for any sign that the exhaustion is feigned. Itachi is steady, as much a fixed point as he has ever been, but this particular point is ... confirmed when he speaks. Sharingan meets Sharingan, a mutual sweep of suspicion and, for Sasuke, ingrained training. It's been a decade since he meeting his brother without Sharingan at the ready; the moments without the greyed-sharp clarity of vision are few and the memories increasingly faded.
But Itachi's words, the tone and his choice of phrasing, is enough. Whatever game is being played, it's almost ... cruel.
It's difficult to break the habit, but Sasuke drops the Sharingan with a blink, relaxes his stance into something less immediately ready to attack, though his hand continues to rest casually on the hilt of Kusanagi. As much physical comfort as anything else, the feel of a weapon in hand.
His tone is as carefully blank as he can make it, and it occurs to him that perhaps it would be kinder not to say it. He says it anyway:]
no subject
But Itachi's words, the tone and his choice of phrasing, is enough. Whatever game is being played, it's almost ... cruel.
It's difficult to break the habit, but Sasuke drops the Sharingan with a blink, relaxes his stance into something less immediately ready to attack, though his hand continues to rest casually on the hilt of Kusanagi. As much physical comfort as anything else, the feel of a weapon in hand.
His tone is as carefully blank as he can make it, and it occurs to him that perhaps it would be kinder not to say it. He says it anyway:]
Don't lie anymore. I already know the truth.