Kaori Kuina, a girl whose existence will bring war, meets Uchiha Itachi, a man who will kill for peace. He has taken so many lives before, yet why couldn't he take hers?
[contains sexual content, read at your own discretion]
うちはイタチ fanfiction ; ita...
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Itachi stood stiffly, his palms pressed flat against the sink to support his weight as he leaned forward, breathing ruggedly. His own reflection in the mirror stared back at him, and as he stood there, he found he could barely recognise himself, especially the look of lust in his eyes.
Water dripped from his hair and face as he grimaced. All these years, everyone had always viewed Itachi as heartless, but he actually thought matter-of-factly, he loved too much. He loved Sasuke and he loved Konoha. He had always loved. Platonically.
However, when it came to a love that was driven by lusts and worldly desires, he had always dreaded mingling himself in it. To him such a thing was a mere unavailing mundane sentiment. Even pleasures such as sex seemed no different from a chore of a relationship to him.
Or, at least he thought so until that night.
That night, he was sure he was being driven insane. His rigid principles, his rational mind, and his self-control was threatened to the point he doubted if everything really was beyond his control.
That part of his body for one thing was beyond his control.
He let out a gruff sigh as he quickly shook off his thoughts and rinsed his hands. He grabbed out a bathrobe and slipped it on. Having calmed himself down and released the tension he felt, he confidently walked out of the bathroom.
It seemed the Fragrance had already calmed herself down too and passed out cold. Itachi let out a sigh of relief as he walked over to her and stopped by the bed. He glanced down, watching as her chest rose and fell in a peaceful sleep
He grimaced, not knowing what he ought to do with her. She was drunk, and he presumed she probably mistaken his room as hers as there was no way such a good girl like her would dare be so aggressive. Since she was oblivious, he couldn't even blame her.
He placed his hand over his forehead, his illness beginning to relapse from his conflicted thoughts as he contemplated on what to do with her. He thought of carrying her back to her room, but she looked to be in a blissful sleep. And he knew waking her up would mean more trouble.
Taking a deep breath, he quickly pulled the blanket over her body as he walked over to the other side of the bed and took a seat at the edge of it as far away from her as he could.
He clutched his forehead in his palm, completely tired and muddled. His illness felt more profound after what she had done to him, and he thought that perhaps, she would really be the death of him.
He opened his bedside cupboard and grabbed out the bottle of pill he promised the Fragrance to take. Pouring himself a glass of water, he popped one in his mouth and drowned it down with water. But not feeling any better, he fiddled for more pills in the cupboard until there was an assortment of colours in his hand. He looked at the pills in repulse and quickly popped them in his mouth and swallowed them all.
Drowsiness hit him instantly and he let out a weary breath as he glanced over at the Fragrance who slept with her back to him. Too exhausted to think further, he lay down next to her. He usually only slept for a few hours and woke up before dawn. A short nap wouldn't hurt; he would wake up before she did anyways. With that, he closed his eyes.
As he was about to drift off to sleep, he could hear the Fragrance's faint voice ringing in the back of his mind.
Because I think what you did in the past was honorable. And I think you deserve to be happy. Even if it is fleeting, I just want you to be happy.
Pain swept over his expression as his brows furrowed. At the very end of a tiring day, sometimes, he just wanted to let go of his self-restraint. Sometimes, he just wanted to truly be happy. Like how she was drunk that night, he also wanted to pretend he too was drunk. So that he could savour the sweet taste of reverie and never sober up to face the reality.
But was it truly okay to feel happy when those whom he killed that night never got to experience happiness and lived their optimum life? Was it truly okay to feel happy when his little brother was out there suffering?
With the question that was hard to swallow, he allowed himself to take his rest.
.
His eyes snapped open once again when he felt something snuggling against his arm. He was about to fend himself when he realised it was just the Fragrance. He breathed softly as he allowed himself to glance at the way she slept peacefully, her small frame pressing against him, and her hair messily dishevelled across her face. She had somehow strayed from her corner of the bed and found comfort by him.
But before he could relax, his gaze darkened as the realisation hit him. After having his short rest, the clouds within his mind had been completely cleared. All of his logic and reasons flooded back to him, and he knew that their close proximity at that moment was beyond the boundary of the extent of their relationship. With that thought, he instantly tried to tug his arm away from her. But wretchedly, at his movement, her eyes snapped wide open, completely bemused. She glanced around the room in confusion before her gaze landed on him.
They both froze as their eyes connected. She blinked at him and he gulped.
That was utterly unprofessional. Beyond unprofessional.
