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Simple Moments

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He's seven, and she's brushing his hair on their patio and smiling as he talks. Maturity doesn't come only from age, and she hides her pride and regret for her little prodigy that he should be gifted with it. They watch dusk come with the crickets, and before they get up to leave she kisses him on the forehead and he looks embarrassed by the gesture. But he smiles, and everything is alright and she treasures the unspoken words.

((I love you, you're my son, I will always be here for you))

He's nine, and growing up too fast. He's starting to wear his hair long and lets her indulge in keeping in tame, even though it's always dark, smooth and strong in the first place. Everything he does seems to reflect him, and he speaks less in general and more about the sharingan. It's still pleasant company with him in the sunset, when the dying light takes all formality away with it. Darkness sharpens his skills, he tells her, as he starts to leave for training. She barely has to bend down to kiss his forehead now, and he looks amused when she tells him to be careful.

((Be careful, I love you, stay young))

Then suddenly, he's eleven, and pushing twenty five. Spending time alone with her son comes in those precious fifteen minutes when she applies medicines to the rare cuts he has. He knows she takes longer than she has to but never questions her, and she places more hope in that than any mother should need to. He still talks, sparingly, and she smiles at his concern for Sasuke and knows being a brother mellows him more than he thinks. But then her husband is calling him again, and she squeezes his hand when he brushes past her. The brief smile assures her more than his words does.

((Be happy, stay young, I love you))

Thirteen, and already most are afraid of him and almost none know him. His father doesn't, and she's afraid, but only that she doesn't either. Women in the Uchiha clan don't have much say, much less ones without the sharingan, but she's his mother and he's her son and so she goes to the patio in the morning after the fight. He doesn't move and she doesn't dare, so he watches the sunrise while she watches his back. A thousand things she needs to say and a million she can't, and three words in the thousands of millions are said before she can take them back.

He doesn't hear them. He couldn't have, because she's left alone in the light and he hasn't smiled. Not to her, because he isn't thirteen and geniuses can't be understood, even by their mother.

But later that night, she takes small comfort in knowing that at least, those days really did happen and those moments might have meant something.

Itachi smiles the ghost of his smile, kisses her forehead, and doesn't flinch when he rams the kunai into her womb.

((You're my mother, be happy, I'm sorry I still love you))

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wash away my memories

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Well. Here's the second take on roughly the same thing. Don't worry; that'll be about it. Many thanks to all who reviewed the first- they're very appreciated. ::snugs Dobyuk Princess and Sahara Storm::