Impossible to Love You

Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to the brilliant Masashi Kishimoto-sama. I am not Masashi Kishimoto-sama, unfortunately. If I were, NaruSasu would be absolute canon, with some ItaSasu on the side of course.

Warnings: Incest, swearing, character death.

Pairings: ItaSasu.

A/N: I don't know if anyone is even following this story now, it's been years since I updated it. I have had writer's block for so long. I'm so sorry about that. And sorry I think this ending is kind of weird no matter how I look at it, I think some of you might think it to be some senseless plot development with ridiculour drama. =( But I really hate that this fic has been unfinished for so long, trust me it was clawing at me all this time. So even if I can't stand my ending I have to post it to be fair to those (whoever are these amazing people) who have been so patiently waiting. Speaking of bad endings though, I HATE Naruto's ending. [START SPOILER] What's with the abrupt and unnecessary ending with all the random pairings in Chapter 700? Chapter 699 would have sufficed, especially with its strong NaruSasu overtones, seriously. Granted, Naruto and Hinata was not exactly unexpected, but Ino and Sai? And Sasuke and Sakura. OMFG how wrong is that. Alright shall not babble about it, but on another side note, the ending still has its redeeming qualities. Sasuke is sooo HOT, with his fringe covering one of his eyes. Almost lost all his uke-ness in that particular manga frame. And, his and Sakura's unfortunately named daughter, Sarada, is a cute character, and I think she can sort of fulfil my NaruSasu shipping with Naruto and Hinata's almost as unfortunately named son, Boruto. Ok sorry I'm talking about NaruSasu shipping in my own ItaSasu fic. [END SPOILER] Never mind me, I hope you'll enjoy your final chapter!

Sasuke stepped out of his shower, his body still sore from the previous night. He was still rubbing his hair dry with a towel when he spotted an unwelcome guest sprawled over his bed sheets.

"What are you doing here again?" he snarled.

"Hmmm, fresh new bed sheets. Would you like to see your video?" Madara's pearly whites shone as his mouth broke into a leering grin.

"I've already done what you wanted. What more do you want?"

"Nothing. For now. You've pleased me. Itachi was clearly distressed, so I'm thinking that he will stop his activities for the time being."

"You've achieved what you want so just get out." Sasuke growled, his teeth gritted.

"Rude boy. So unlike your mother. I wonder who taught you your manners? Must be Fugaku."

"Shut up! Stop talking about my parents!"

"Are you thinking about seeking revenge? I understand it completely, we Uchihas are entwined in a fate of vengeance, but I'm afraid that you're not competent enough to be even of a threat to me."

"You!"

"Goodnight, Sasuke-kun." Madara smirked, his creases around his eyes crinkling as he pushed himself up from the bed and left the room.

Vengeance… he hadn't even been thinking about it. He was prepared to be resigned to this fate. If Madara was thinking that he was incompetent, he would show him just how competent he really was. He had to start plotting. He had to think. Just what was Madara's weakness? He had to have one.

Sasuke sat on his bed, not caring about the water dripping from his hair that darkened the blue of his bed sheets as he tried to recollect their conversations. Kaa-san. Madara was expressing his regret in not touching her. It was worth a shot no matter what the risk. Or the humiliation. This time, he would save his brother and himself; break free from this hellish chain.

He rushed to the computer and researched on the Internet for all the feminine essentials a woman must have, ending up with a long shopping list. The colour on his cheeks darkened as he thought of the humiliation he would have to go through, but he had to do it to protect Itachi and himself.

Sasuke stole up to his room with his shopping bags, and after a quick scan around the long corridor, he hurriedly entered his room, closing the heavy oak door with a sigh of relief.

He hid the bags in his closet after removing some stuff and tottered to his bathroom, placing his hands heavily onto the rims of the sink. Right after his purchases he had made a trip to the waxing salon to remove all sight of hair on his body and the burning aftereffects were not lessened. But he had no time to rest if he wanted to get him and Itachi out of this hell.

Firstly, he had to figure out how to hook the bra around his chest. He slipped it on, and his hand attempted to reach his back, and he panted slightly with the effort. The bathroom was turning stuffy. He should have bought a bra that hooked at the front. At that thought, he quickly slipped the bra straps off his shoulders and let it fall around his stomach, turning the hook to front and hooked it on easily. Satisfied, he turned the hook back and started pulling up the bra with some difficulty. He had guessed the size, and it was a little too tight for him. He just had to bear with it. He nodded to himself absently and slipped the bra straps off his shoulders, removing the bra in the same manner as he hooked it on.

Next up was the cosmetic set. He had watched a thousand videos online and memorised the basic steps, but he wasn't sure if he could actually do it well in practice.

His mother was a woman who believed in little make-up, fortunately for him. His face was like hers, his complexion flawless, fair and smooth. He had always hated that he had such little facial hair, but it proved to be to his advantage in this mission. So there was no need for concealers or foundation that caked a woman's face.

He held the metal curler to his lashes, hesitating slightly as he stared at the shiny metal device. It was a little daunting to hold a metal device so close to one's eyeballs. He put it over his lashes carefully, and curled it hard, counting up to ten, attempting to fan away the little beads of perspiration that were beginning to form from his exertion. After removing the curler from his eyes with relief, he peered into the mirror. His lashes were not curled. They were bent. Fuck. He needed much practice with this damn thing.

He then attempted to apply mascara on his lashes, accidentally smearing the black goo on his skin. Muttering a string of curses under his breath, he rubbed unforgivingly at the wet ink on his cheekbone. Then he added some rouge to his cheeks, frowning at the pink tint that made him look like he was blushing for no apparent reason.

Finally, he dabbed on a lip plumper that was supposed to give one luscious full lips. The sticky liquid stung his lips, but at least it worked, to some extent. His lips seemed slightly fuller, and he had to admit to himself that at this moment, he could be mistaken for as his mother's twin if she had been twenty years younger. Then he dabbed a clear gloss on his lips, grimacing when he accidentally tasted it. He had never felt sorrier for women than this very minute. They had to taste this nasty sticky crap every time they used it.

He looked into the mirror once again, and instantly realised his hair was looking very out of place with his transformed face. He washed the wax off his hair with the shower cap, careful not to let the water touch his face and ruin it. After washing his hair, he dried it with a towel and attempted to brush it flat. His raven hair fell around his face, curling at his shoulders where it ended.

His frown deepened; the creases between his brow furrowing. Something was missing. He still did not look like his mother. What was it? He frowned harder as he nearly drilled a hole into the mirror with his glare. Realization dawned upon him then. He had to soften his gaze.

He shut his eyes, and thought of Mikoto. Her lovely, tender smile and warm gaze that was ever so often directed to him came to the front of his mind, flooding his senses. A smile finally played on his glossed lips, and he opened his eyes.

Mikoto was smiling at him. Her large, warm eyes framed with a long thick fringe of lashes sparkled with unshed tears.

"Kaa-san." Sasuke mouthed to himself as a single tear rolled down his rouge-stained cheek.

A click from the door announced that someone was in his room. He removed his make-up with the speed of light, scrubbing furiously at his eyes, ripping off a few lashes as he did. When he exited his bathroom after concealing the feminine items, his freshly scrubbed face darkened.

"What are you doing here again?"

"You sure took a long time in the bathroom. I have been waiting."

"What for?"

"For you to come to bed with me."

Sasuke almost reeled from shock. He wasn't prepared for this. His newly purchased knife was still hidden in the closet.

"Just kidding. Your face was amusing. I have been watching Itachi. He is still risking his life. Never did I expect that your effect on him would last for only one day. I suggest that you do something about this situation right now."

"What do you want me to do?" Sasuke asked, exasperated.

"Go to his room and distract him. Whatever means it may be, he is not to disrupt my operations this time. After tonight, you may be free from my orders, for a while anyway."

"Alright. I'll do it."

"Good boy. I will take my leave then. Wish you success." Madara leapt up from the bed, and left the room.

"I wish you an accelerated death." Sasuke muttered under his breath, leaving his room shortly after Madara, heading towards Itachi's room.

His fist rose to knock on the door, his mind a swirling white mist even as he racked his brain for ideas to stop Itachi. His fist hit the air when the door swung backwards.

"Sasuke?" Itachi's sombre eyes stared down at him.

"I need to speak to you."

"I have something important to do now can you wait?"

"No! No. I really have something urgent to tell you."

Itachi sighed, still making no attempt to budge from the door frame.

"I really have to go."

Sasuke's panic rose, his heart jumping into his mouth as he grabbed Itachi's crotch, knocking Itachi backwards in shock.

The second they stumbled into Itachi's room, Sasuke's hand hastily left him and he wheeled towards the door as if struck by a shock of electricity, locking the door automatically.

"What are you doing, Sasuke?"

"You'll be killed! Our parents already left, don't leave me as well!"

"…You knew everything?"

Sasuke remained silent, sliding his gaze away.

"Madara made you do it that night." Itachi's words were a statement, not a question.

The silence only grew heavier, until a deep sigh broke it, cutting into the air like a sharp knife.

"Sasuke… you don't deserve this. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry." Itachi groaned, slapping his face into his palms.

"No, all you've done is just to protect me. I… you have to live on if you want to continue being there for me." At the last minute, Sasuke changed his mind in revealing his plan to Itachi, knowing very well his brother would never allow him to execute his plan.

"But his operation is a big one tonight. It may take a long time for the next if it is a success."

"We have time! Don't go!"

Itachi sighed again in acquiesce, and sat down on his bed. Sasuke moved to sit beside him, and his hand crept towards his shyly. Their fingers finally curled together in a loose hold.

"Can we just sleep together for tonight?"

Itachi stared down at him, his mouth slightly agape in shock.

"It's just lying next to each other." Sasuke defended himself despite his growing blush.

Itachi's lips softened into a smile, and he shifted the two of them towards the pillows. Sleep did not come easy for them, but the wonder of being so close to each other, the feel of the beat of their thumping hearts, the heat emanating from their bodies entwined around each other made it a night that would never be forgotten by both.

Sasuke woke up only to see Itachi's serene face next to him, so close that he could count every lash, touch the stubble growing on his chin, kiss away the crack on his dry lips. He blinked slowly as he absorbed every single detail of Itachi's face. His hand hovered over his face for a second, longing to touch it. But he retracted his hand, letting it fall to his side, and pushed himself out of the bed, gently untangling his legs from Itachi's so as not to wake him.

He tiptoed out of the bedroom, and returned to his own room to prepare for the next practice. He needed plenty of practice to perfect his skills. Not just in make-up, but also the way he carried himself and the softness of his mother's gaze. And he would succeed. This was the only way to secure his revenge.

Finally the day had arrived. It was a day that filled Sasuke with two conflicting emotions that threatened to tear his heart apart. Hope and dread. Hope that his mission will be accomplished and dread that it might fail terribly, endangering both his and Itach's lives. He had only one chance to succeed.

Sasuke stole yet another peek at the VIP room, clicking his tongue in frustration as he did. Madara and his subordinates were still making merry within the velvet red walls. Scantily clad prostitutes draped themselves on the men's arms as they downed more and more drinks.

Didn't Madara need the restroom even once? He had certainly drunk enough to fill three grown men's bladders. The men that attempted to hit on him since Sasuke entered the bar could form a line from one end of the street to another by now. He didn't need any more irritating bugs ruining his plan by blocking his view. Sasuke gazed at his own reflection, drinking in his own image in the reflective wall before him as he crossed one leg over another like a seasoned prostitute, sipping his own drink daintily.

The stygian intensity of his fixed gaze reflected a dark sombreness that spelled an experience beyond his years, making him seem older than he really was. He attempted to school his look back into the soft eyes his mother had, and mentally scowled at the ivory face that held a sweet, innocent look that he had long lost.

A simple black cocktail dress adorned the slim figure, the bulk of his arms hidden by a silver shawl. His legs were the weaker part of his body, they were slim like that of a woman's, but now he was grateful for that. All he needed was a little waxing to create the illusion of naturally smooth legs.

The VIP room's door began to open, and Sasuke shot up from his seat in a flash, sashaying across the bar, his heart thumping against his ribcage wildly, threatening to burst out from his chest.

Madara leered at the shapely legs of the woman before him, and as she moved down the tables in measured grace, her short dress revealed endless, exquisite flesh, porcelain perfection. This complexion comparable to the beauty of a moon's pallor; could only be rivalled by Mikoto. She certainly seemed a looker, from the way that both men and women's heads turned to stare as she glided past them.

He stumbled forward, his head groggy from his earlier celebration with his brothers. His unsteady hand reached out for the lady, smirking to himself. If his night ended with a beauty in his arms, it would be a perfect night after his recent earnings from his operations.

His fingers snaked around her shoulder, and she turned around slowly, captivating him with her familiar scent. The sweetness of a garden in spring wafted into his nostrils, and his heavy lids slid into a close as he took in the aroma hungrily. Mikoto smelled just this way. He opened his eyes again to see a flawless beauty who held a tiny smile that reached her big eyes, soft and almost vulnerable in her kindness.

"Babe, you're so gorgeous… you look like someone I knew…"

The silent beauty only broke into a wider smile from his flattery, and placed her gloved hands onto his, leading him to the lift.

He was clumsy in gait, no thanks to his drunken stupor, but the girl, yes he realised she was still very young after all, was as kind as his Mikoto. She helped him in his steps like a dutiful wife, but she never spoke. Briefly he wondered if she was mute, but the fleeting notion vanished when she placed her hand on his clothed manhood and fondled it to life.

This young girl was daring, she had this spark of fire and sultry seduction in her glittering eyes that Mikoto never had. Madara liked this zest of life within this little beauty, and he swiftly ducked his head down, crushing her lips with his.

The girl's lips paused for the briefest of a millisecond, as if stunned, before softening and parting like a blossoming bud for his roaming tongue. Every corner of her mouth was raped by his searching tongue as he caressed her creamy back, sliding his hands down to cup her tantalising rump. The lift doors finally opened, and she pushed him away from her slightly, still smiling at him, and took his hand once again, bringing him to her room.

The moment they reached her room, she deftly locked the door shut, and brought him to the pristine white bed of the hotel room. She laid him down gently on the bed, and continued their interrupted kiss, stroking his erection with skills that showed her experience.

Their kiss grew wild with passion, their breathing heavy and frenzied, but a sudden sharpness pointing at his chest made even his dull senses realise something wasn't right. Before he could push her away, a devastating pain shot deep down his chest, the sharp curve of the knife unforgiving as it cut against his flesh. His eyes flickered open from the excruciating pain, and saw a change in the girl's eyes. Unadulterated hatred blazed in her thunderstorm eyes, a murderous black gaze he had seen all too often in the form of Uchiha Sasuke.

"Sa-s-suke…" He barely managed to spit out his name in his growing weakness. He felt coppery blood gurgling, overflowing in his mouth, and spat them onto Sasuke's pale face.

"Go on, spit at me all you want. You don't have much time left." Sasuke finally growled in his baritone, as he wedged the knife deeper.

The lethal combination of the alcohol that had dulled Madara's senses and the strength ebbing away from the agony the knife brought was slowly blurring his focus and darkening his vision. He couldn't believe he was about to be brought to an end by someone he had looked down upon. He'd underestimated his thirst for vengeance.

Sasuke removed his iron-like grip from the knife handle when Madara's eyes finally closed, and he lifted a trembling finger towards his nose. Stillness. He was no longer breathing. Sasuke scrambled away from the white bed, falling down heavily with a loud thud as his back hit the hard granite floor. Acute pain shot up his spine, but he was past caring about his own physical pain. He'd actually killed a human. Dark rubies fell off the glinting metal tip stained sanguine in a slow dripping motion like water from a leaky tap. The adrenaline in his veins had vanished, leaving behind a sick coldness that froze the blood in him.

His mind turned blank for a moment. He couldn't remember what he was supposed to do next. Panic rose within him, squeezing air out of his chest. He felt a vibration beneath his free hand, and he immediately snatched his hand away as if stunned by an electric shock. It was his purse. A simple long elegant black number. He could not for the life of him comprehend why his purse was vibrating. The vibration stopped. And sprung back to life again. It was only then he recovered some of his senses and reached out to his purse. He flipped open his cell phone. It was Gaara.

"Sasuke, are you alright? You haven't been answering any of our phone calls all this while, and even your text replies are curt, I—"

"Gaara."

At the sound of his name, Gaara stopped talking. It was just a simple calling of his name, but the silvery whisper laced with unadulterated fear struck straight into his heart.

"Gaara." Sasuke repeated, his husky whisper a notch louder.

"What happened?" Gaara asked worriedly.

"I killed someone."

"What!? Where are you?"

"Tokyo Imperial Hotel. At the president suite, it's a closed area, and there're two guards outside the door, I don't know how you can enter what am I to do now?"

"Don't worry, I'll try my best to help you."

The line went dead; leaving Sasuke alone in the room with the corpse of the man he once called uncle.

Seconds ticked by like hours, and Sasuke stared at the phone with mounting dread. He needed more than Gaara's help. He needed Itachi.

"Nii-san…"

"Sasuke, what happened?" Itachi knew something was wrong just by hearing the note of desperation in Sasuke's voice.

"I killed Madara."

"Tell me where you are."

"Tokyo Imperial Hotel… at the president suite… Nii-san, I'm fucked."

"Don't think so much. Wait for me I'll be right there."

Sasuke hung up and slipped his phone in his pocket. He gazed down at his blood-stained hands and clenched them into shaking fists, his clammy sweat mixing with Madara's blood.

He had to do something about it himself instead of just waiting for rescue like a damsel in distress. He was the… the murderer after all. He had a plan… at least to conceal the knife. He just had to act on it.

He yanked out a pair of gloves from his purse and pulled it over his hands before he gingerly approached the still body on the bed, and his trembling hand reached towards the knife sticking out of Madara's chest. The pale fluttery hand hovered for a second over the dead man's chest, before his fingers wrapped around the handle of the knife and yanked the metal out of Madara's bleeding chest.

He dashed into the bathroom in a lightning flash, bile rising against his throat as he washed the crimson blood off the murder weapon. Scarlet mixed with water, turning the bright crimson into pink transparent liquid that got sucked into the dark gaping hole of the sink that seemed like an abyss to Sasuke at that moment. He could smell the iron from the blood. The scent of death.

He turned off the running tap and wiped off the water from knife dully. His next movements were as mechanical as his previous, like a cold, lifeless robot. He was no longer pure. He had killed a man.

I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer. I'm a murderer.

It was the only thought that went through his mind as he numbly hid the knife back into his purse.

The sudden vibration of his phone made him almost jump out of his own skin.

"Sasuke, how are you feeling right now? I am on the way to the hotel."

"…"

"Sasuke!"

"I… I don't know how to reply you, nii-san."

"Okay, it's alright, just try to relax, take deep breaths."

Sasuke nodded dumbly as he followed Itachi's instructions.

"Feel better? I need to ask you a few questions. What exactly were you doing with Madara?"

"I…" Sasuke couldn't bring himself to say it. What would Itachi think of him if he found out the lengths he took to seek revenge?

"Sasuke, I need to know to formulate a plan to protect you."

Sasuke shut his eyes, a single tear escaping from his lid as he placed his hand over his chest. Itachi's words were so comforting that it hurt.

"Don't— don't despise me for this. But I dressed as a prostitute to seduce Madara, so he fell for it and brought me to his suite and—"

"What? Madara couldn't tell it was you? Wait, Madara fancied men?"

"No. I… I mean, I dressed as a female prostitute. Actually, It was because I found out he fucking had feelings towards kaa-san, so I took advantage of it."

"…I see. Alright. I know what to do now. Sasuke. I need you to work with me for this plan to work. You will continue with your act when I enter your room later. And try to make it seem like Madara is sleeping."

"I don't know if I can…" Sasuke gulped, tears springing up in his eyes.

"You can do it. You have to. Please, otouto. I will reach in 15 minutes. I need you to pull yourself together."

"Okay."

"I love you."

Before Sasuke could reply, the line went dead. I love you too.

Itachi had just stepped into the hotel lift when someone barged his way into the lift, knocking into him. The person bowed and murmured an apology, presenting to him a shock of red hair. His eyes narrowed as the owner of the red hair straightened his back and he found himself staring at heavily-lined jade green eyes.

"Gaara."

"Itachi?"

"I will take care of him. It's our family business."

"I can help."

"I have everything planned. Please leave now, you cannot help me in this."

Gaara merely stood with his arms folded as he stared at Itachi soundlessly.

The lift was reaching the top level, and Itachi's patience was tipping its limits. He didn't know what to do if Gaara insisted on tagging along. When the lift reached the top floor, Gaara gripped his wrist.

"I trust you can handle it and protect him well. I'll leave him in your hands."

"Thank you." Itachi bobbed his head and exited the lift as the lift doors closed on Gaara's solemn face.

Sasuke waited in the suite for what felt like an eternity, as the clock ticked its hands away. Finally, he heard a loud commotion outside the door. His ears pricked up and he quickly scrambled to the couch, trying to assume a womanly position as he reclined against the couch and lit a cigarette, his heart thumping in anticipation.

Itachi burst into the room shortly after, and Sasuke only caught a glimpse of the bodyguards' protesting faces before the door slammed shut. Itachi flew to him and they both clung to each other as if for dear life. When they finally separated, Itachi asked frantically, "What did you use to kill him?"

"A knife. Why—" Before Sasuke could question, Itachi interrupted.

"Where is it?"

"In this purse." Sasuke pointed to the purse on the table.

Itachi barely nodded as he rushed to the purse and whipped it out.

"What are you—" Sasuke was stunned as Itachi slapped him.

While it was a slap, it was so hard that stars dotted his vision for a moment, and blood bubbled forth from his mouth. When his vision finally cleared, what he saw made his heart stop.

Itachi had flung the covers off Madara and stabbed him repeatedly, as if he was a mad man set on the loose.

Sasuke screamed. His screams sounded hollow, like as if he was trapped under water and he was hearing someone else scream from outside the tank. Itachi rushed over to muffle his cries, until his wet eyes stared back into Itachi's enigmatic raven depths as his scream softened into a weak whimper. The door swung open then, and Itachi pushed him back to the couch roughly before he whipped to face the guards, pistol in his hand.

"Madara is dead. His ring is now in my hands. I will be your leader from now on. Anyone who disobeys me will meet instant death." Itachi said impassively, his profile hard and cold like a marble Greek statue.

The guards actually lowered their pistols even as they glared at Itachi malevolently.

"You will kindly dispose his body for me, and I assure you will be rewarded handsomely for this little errand. For anyone who obeys my command is my loyal friend. I put my trust in you, just as you will trust me to take good care of you."

One of the guards immediately changed his demeanour upon hearing Itachi's promise and nodded politely, even eagerly as he proceeded to take care of his request. The other guard still regarded him suspiciously even as he followed suit.

"Change the bedsheets too, I want a clean job. I will take over this suite for tonight, along with this little bitch of his." Itachi gestured toward Sasuke carelessly, not glancing at Sasuke even once.

They complied with his demands, and retreated for the night. The room was now suffused with a floral fragrance that tickled Sasuke's nose. Yet the stench of death seemed to linger, trailing its little finger into his nostrils. Or was he imagining it? The saccharine aroma permeated his every senses and the room seemed to spin. He blinked hard to clear his vision.

"Gaara was here too."

"Gaara?"

"You also told him about it." The word 'it' hung heavy in the air, the meaning behind this simple word slicing into Sasuke's heart as he recalled what he had done.

"Yes… he called just right after I… and I just blurted out."

"I guessed it. I've already sent him back. It's too dangerous to involve him."

"I know. I'm sorry." Sasuke gasped, clenching at his heaving bosom. His heart felt like it was being squeezed by an iron fist, his fingers dug deep into his chest as a strangled noise issued out of his throat.

"Sasuke! Relax! Take slow deep breaths!" Itachi urged as he pried Sasuke's fingers away from his chest.

Finally Sasuke calmed down slightly, though he still could not stop the hot tears that burned fiery trails down his cheeks.

"I'm the murderer, not you…"

"It doesn't matter. Nothing matters as long as you are safe by my side."

"I didn't think this properly. I only thought of having him killed… now you have to deal with this mess." Sasuke buried his face into his palms. Itachi took his hands away from his face, rubbing them reassuringly.

"I can handle it." Itachi murmured, his finger moving gently over Sasuke's face, wiping an errant tear that escaped from the corner of his eye.

"What happens next? The Akatsuki members will not be so easily pacified."

"Don't worry about it. Let me just hug you for tonight. We will face everything together when the sun rises."

"Promise me you will keep yourself safe for me."

Itachi smiled as he leaned towards Sasuke and reached a finger towards his forehead. Sasuke stared at him dumbly as he felt a strangely familiar poke. Did it mean "Sorry otouto, I can't promise you that?" Sasuke felt like he was standing on the quavering verge of insanity. If Itachi meant it, he would cross over the edge and never return.

While his head whirled with these demented notions, he felt a soft peck on his forehead and cheeks. Itachi peppered his face with light fluttery kisses like a fairy flitting about on the petals of a thorny rose covered with dewdrops, chasing away Sasuke's despondent thoughts with its bright light. Itachi grazed his lips over Sasuke's jawline, before slowly capturing Sasuke's lips in a delicate kiss. A kiss of promise, a kiss of hope for their uncertain future. Perhaps their love wasn't so impossible after all.