Tortured Uchiha [CURRENTLY EDITING]

All are Tokin

Once again, the Akatsuki changed hideout. Apparently after the Six Sins stunt I pulled when I fought with Itachi gave enough cause for Pein to move the organisation to a rural location on a mountainside on the border of Yukigakure. The frost and wind-chill was so severe that barbs of ice formed around the shield of white fabric strips on the brim of my Akatsuki hat. I supposed that Pein wanted any snoops to freeze to death before they reached the snow-clad mountainside.

Our sandals made prints in the snow but were soon covered by the onslaught of the blizzard. I would’ve blocked some brunt of the storm with my Nagamaki but the problem was that my blade was currently frozen in the shoulder holster on my back.

Kisame had the same problem with Samehada; the live sword writhed in discomfort beneath the bandages as Kisame pulled the collar of his cloak up to the slits of his eyes.

He stood on my right with Itachi on my left, if any of us wanted to speak; our cries would be lost under the howl of snow and ice that pelted us. I couldn’t see anything more than one metre in front of me and a fire release would be useless, the snow would overpower it.   

The only one that didn’t seem to be suffering from the weather was Itachi. My best friend trudged through the snow silently, his crimson gaze hidden beneath the lowered brim of his hat. Itachi’s condition was stable, but he lead me to believe that he was getting better―but he wasn’t smart enough to hide the blotches on his skin or the blood stains on the corner of his pillow in the bedroom.

Whenever I tried to ask Itachi about the ‘illness’ (since Kisame urged that I couldn’t let Itachi know that I knew), he would simply silence me with a kiss. It was shock at first, since Itachi anything but affectionate in our entwined past, but it became a welcomed gesture―a wanted one. I clenched my fists, I knew that pursuing Itachi was useless, he would always value his own ‘duties’ more than our love so I’ backed off completely. I don’t know if that hurt Itachi more than it crushed me.

My head twitched to the side and I gripped my right eye that held Shisui’s Mangekyou. The symptoms were slower for me since Shisui’s Mangekyou contaminated my cells slowly, and I didn’t exert myself that much apart from rarely ever deactivating my Mangekyou. I had more chakra to spare than Itachi. 

Kisame’s head turned to the left and with a shaking hand, tipped the edge of his hat upward so his beady eyes could see me. His frown was visible but Itachi didn’t seem to notice that me and Kisame nodded at each other. Kisame shuffled closer through the peaks of snow and bumped his hand with mine, passing me a vile of the plum coloured liquid.

I coughed deeply and tasted the thick metallic phlegm stick in the back of my throat. Kisame gave me another nod and I pried the cork from the glass vile with my thumb. I downed the liquid without a second thought and it seemed to dissolve the clotted blood in my throat.

“What is it?” Itachi asked suddenly.

The sound of his melodically deep voice made me and Kisame flinch. We’d been walking for five days and not once, since the last time I asked Itachi about his health, had he spoken. Itachi’s attention was fully on me and he’d stopped the robotic walking motion. I slowed a metre ahead and crushed the tube in my right hand which I also had to bandage, the blotches hadn’t started but my skin was irritated and inflamed scratch marks dabbled my skin―I didn’t want Itachi to get suspicious.

“It is nothing,” I was devoid of all emotion and continued through the snow.

 

[Time Skip]  

The Akatsuki hideout was a cave situated on the slope of Genkan Mountain, meaning ‘bitter cold’, which certainly described the harsh weather and my mood. I shook the snow from my sandals and removed my hat, breaking off the icicles. Much to Itachi’s confusion, I didn’t follow him or Kisame down the torch-lit corridor―Itachi didn’t question my motives of agreeing to hide beneath Akatsuki cover, erase their memories through Kotoamatsukami/Tsukuyomi or why I became hostile to him. But now, Itachi’s Sharingan held deep agitation as he stared at me.