Truth: Itachi Uchiha Love Story

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My pulse thrummed against the soft skin of my jugular as I looked on at the two sleeping forms.

I was fixated on the smaller of the two. Long jet-black hair draped over the chest of the other form to the left and fanned out to the right. Their left hand clutched the fabric of the other's shirt. Fingers blanching at the tightness of their grip.

"Staring at her like this isn't going to prove anything, Shiori." The velvet-smooth voice licked against my skin drapping me in an odd sense of serenity that only the owner could do. Arms banded themselves around my middle, cradling me against their chest.

"You don't believe me, do you?" I sighed, wrapping my fingers where Itachi's hands latched onto me.

"Shiori..."

I spun around in his arms, looking up to meet his shadowed face. Even in this lighting, his eyes caught me in his spell.

"Itachi." I parrot.

He huffed out a sigh, his arms drawing me closer. "I believe you... but you have to admit this is a far-fetched story. I've never even heard of this legend until now."

He spoke with a tone I couldn't quite place. And to be honest, I didn't even know if I believed it myself. Itachi poured over every available piece of history in the Uchiha archives as a kid. If there was ever something written about the Kensho, then he would have known about it. But that was just it. There was never any written history of it, at least none that I have ever found myself. When I confronted my grandmother about this, she chuckled and agreed that there were no written scripts on the being. But that this history was only passed orally through the carrier bloodline... My bloodline. Despite how my grandmother had initially presented the story to me all those years ago, the Kensho is a being born of the Uchiha clan, but only to the original lineage or so, she told me. Back then it didn't make sense, but with the revelation during my fight with Madara during the war, all the pieces are starting to fall into place.

"I am the reason why she could be hurt if someone found out," I whispered, the terror of something happening to my child ripped through me. 

"If it's like you said and this is history only passed orally then you don't have to worry. Odds are no one else besides the two of us even knows of the existence of such a being." He replied cupping my face, his thumb running absent circles against my heated cheeks. 

He did have a point, but letting my guard down even in times of peace was something I was not at liberty to do. 

"You know better than that Itachi. We are still ninjas regardless of the peaceful times. Our world is one of hatred, vengeance, and pai-" I caught myself before I finished. When did I become this person? 

"Pain... I know better than anyone what this world offers us... But we can enjoy this while we have it Shiori, we both deserve it." The pang in his voice hollowed out my center. The features on his face strained with age and a burden he managed to relieve himself of years ago. 

'I am to blame for the despair he is feeling.' 

"I promised myself long ago that I was going to be the one to give you the world. The fact that I have been the cause of your pain - I am ashamed to admit that it, but I don't deserve you." The words fell in harsh gulps, each word grating against my lungs as I tried to not cry. 

"Shiori... You have given me my freedom, my brother, and a daughter I cherish with every fiber of my being. You cannot hurt me, but seeing you agonize over the troubles of the world pulls you away from me." He whispers back pressing a soft kiss to the tip of my nose. "And I want nothing more than to be the center of your attention." He continued, a sly grin pulling at the corner of his mouth revealing sharp incisors. His hands slowly racked across my body.