[They're looking at each other now, weighing facts against reality, and Sasuke is in the middle of a war, but he can't not notice how small Itachi is, at 13. What the purpose of showing him this, he can't begin to guess; all he feels is the still-smouldering echo of rage spark, the anger that he knows now is apparently part of his genetic heritage as much as the Sharingan.

His voice stays steady, and he makes a point to hold Itachi's eyes.]

Nothing.

The lies came before that. They would have come after that, too. [He thumbs very slightly at the edge of Kusanagi's hilt, betrayal of some of the internal unrest.]

You chose our paths for years. [Or should he have said you will?] I know how and why, now.