[And he did, and no more. He wonders now if even the whispers of Madara he'd tracked down before killing Itachi (the first time) had been deliberate, for all that Itachi had hoped to keep Sasuke in the dark for Konoha's sake. It's a thought that distracts just long enough that his eyes snap to attention, startled, when he catches the edge to Itachi's voice.
(Itachi, or an image of Itachi, but convincing: precious few genjutsu masters could come up with such detail to pit against even Sasuke's greying memories, and almost none able to reproduce the way Itachi speaks to him. Like he is seven forever, a thoughtless child.)]
We are Uchiha. We don't comfort -- [But he sees the blade and reacts before he can interpret his own body -- snatches a hand out to wrap it around the blade, halting it midair.
He has to drop to a crouch to do it, this Itachi is so much shorter, and it burns to realise just how small he is.]
Neither your Sharingan nor mine could shred this. Pain won't end it!
no subject
(Itachi, or an image of Itachi, but convincing: precious few genjutsu masters could come up with such detail to pit against even Sasuke's greying memories, and almost none able to reproduce the way Itachi speaks to him. Like he is seven forever, a thoughtless child.)]
We are Uchiha. We don't comfort -- [But he sees the blade and reacts before he can interpret his own body -- snatches a hand out to wrap it around the blade, halting it midair.
He has to drop to a crouch to do it, this Itachi is so much shorter, and it burns to realise just how small he is.]
Neither your Sharingan nor mine could shred this. Pain won't end it!