Serve and Protect : Itachi Uchiha

Chapter 8

The weeks following Reina's ascension as the Hitori clan head were best described as tempestuous. Between the burial of Tomo's ashes in the family plot and the board of Elders that Itachi felt were entitled; Reina was exhausted. It was difficult for Itachi as well. Seeing the young head put on a brave front and take the rude comments from the Hitori Elders made his blood boil.

His mere presence agitated them further, like baiting wild, cornered animals. Reina revelled in this factor. Anytime they were hours into a meeting and were at an impasse, Reina would disregard their ‘advice’ in favor of asking Itachi his opinion on the matter. After all he was a clan head in his own right. Even if his clan were six feet under.

In comparison to the endless meetings and snide remarks, the long hours the pairs worked were a synch. It was the night time that was troublesome. It was a time they were meant to be able to rest their weary bones and recharge for the day ahead. It was never the case. Itachi had lost count of how long had passed since he had awoken in a world that he had meant to have left behind permanently.

His stupors had replaced sleep and when Sleep did claim him, it was never peaceful. His slumber was tainted. His dreams stained crimson. Sometimes it was his own blood that covered his hands, they unable to find the source of the bleed. The majority of the time it was the blood of his family that occupied his skin. Every inch of him had been dyed crimson and no amount of scrubbing made it budge. He was tainted.

Other nights his dreams were not a scale of red. Instead an unseeable entity taunted him. It had the answers to his revival and it remained out of his grasp. In its wake it left a promise. The inevitable. Death. It would come for him, just as he thought it would the first time. It simply left its method to his imagination. Which was wild with worry.

Reina was a night owl. The mention of the following morning made her cringe. She preferred the evenings and the accompanying twilight of the witching hours. She did try to sleep in this time. It simply didn't agree with her. Having forgone her pyjama shorts in favour of an oversized t-shirt she had commandeered from the academy, she attempted to sleep - attempted being the operative word. The approaching summer heat made her hair curl tighter and gave her temper a short rein.

Despite the coolness of her open window her bedroom felt like a sauna. She growled under her breath, throwing an arm over her eyes. It was futile. She was awake now. Reina swore, the air tinged blue with her curses. She swung her legs over the side of her bed, her feet dangling to and fro in the air.

Hopping off of the bed, Reina snuck out of her room and ventured to the kitchen in search of a cold drink. The fridge was an oasis of cool air, she stood with her head tucked inside, her face met by leftover food that attempted to goad her into a midnight feast. She didn't. Instead she poured herself a glass of orange juice from the jug and took a long swig. It was instantly gratifying.

Reluctantly, Reina closed the fridge and began the trek back to her room. Her feet stuck to the wooden floor, with each step she had to peel herself from the boards and begin the process all over again. Noise from Itachi's room made her pause, her muscles tensing as she poised herself to listen. She heard the noise again. Like a wounded animal.

She yielded another step closer, curiosity was always her downfall. She stood with her face parallel to the door, waiting for another sound. When a guttural cry broke out from behind the wood, Reina pushed open the door without a moment's hesitation. Itachi thrashed about in his sleep, his mind clearly plagued. Reina edged closer, leaving her juice on his bedside table.

“Itachi.” Reina called out in attempt to wake the thrashing male. He didn't wake. Reina closed the distance between them, taking a perch on the edge of his bed. A thin veil of sweat enveloped his body, his skin flush with heat. His hair was unbound, the newly shortened locks plastered to his pale skin.