Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of its characters.

I originally wrote this story years ago but stopped due to personal reasons. I really love it though and want to finish it. If there happens to be someone who read this way, way back in the day I have sense rewritten a lot of it so I advise re-reading from the beginning.

This story is rewritten in a pattern: Itachi p.o.v.; someone else p.o.v.; Itachi's p.o.v.; ect.

CHAPTER ONE: THE CROW BEGINS A STORY

We own a house on the east end of Konoha. It doesn't look like much. A rundown mechanics shop, perhaps a warehouse. I have done nothing to change the stainless steel exterior or attempt to remove the graffiti dotting its surface. Why should I bother? With such a grotesque shell it only serves to deter any possible inspection.

The neighborhood being what it is I would have preferred forgoing the windows on the peeking out from the second floor but he insisted they be there. For the studio he said. You can't make paintings without natural light. He had wanted to display the paintings he created outside but I insisted that if they left the home, they would get stolen. Just like Sasuke.

Inside the home is just that; a house. A kitchen towards the back and a table for us to eat at. The remaining space is left for Sasuke's studio. Above the ground floor is the majority of our house. I won't ever let Sasuke see what I have in the second room, so instead he spends his free time in the room we share together or his studio below.

There he can do whatever he pleases, be it painting or reading one of the books I buy for him. Most often I have found him painting. He seems to enjoy it. I know Sasuke wants a house with more windows but I won't allow it. This home was built so he and I could live in peace. Unjudged. Safe. Free. I am here with him and that is all he will ever need.

The doors' locks click into place behind me. Turning with a sigh of satisfaction I make my way up the stairs. Being a lawyer is not a hard job but it is still time spent away from my Sasuke. I would have preferred no job at all however our circumstances do not allow that luxury. Thankfully, in a big city such as Konoha it is easy for me to avoid the public eye, despite my choice of profession. I take small cases and finish them with just enough expertise to acquire more clients but not with the perfection that would attract interest.

I effortlessly climb the wooden stairs leading to the open walkway. Greater still is my joy when I open the bedroom door and see Sasuke lounging on our black blanketed mattress, a book held lazily in his hands.

A hundred lifetimes of staring at him will never take away the pleasure of watching Sasuke. He is completely different from myself. As I am the frozen ice of a lake he is the roaring flame of a fire. Each emotion my little brother feels is expressed in every gesture and action of his body. From the tips of his spiky hair to the toes of his lithe teenage frame, Sasuke is alive. Alive and safe – here in our house.

Keeping my footsteps silent I walk over to the bed and, desperate to see proof my little brother is nothing like myself, I pluck the book he is reading right out of his hands. Teasingly I taunt him. "You did not come to greet me. I'm hurt. You let a book replace me little brother?" There, the emotion. I see it in the down turn of his lips. In the furrowing of his brows. In the way he props himself up on his elbows and clenches his fists. I see him in all his expressive glory and I drink it up.

Lifting the book higher I waive it around a bit, silently egging him to do something. My Sasuke never fails me. Sliding into a crouch he reaches up and grabs for the book, his explanation spilling out between those beautiful lips. "I—" He's glaring as he tries for it. "—was—" More grabbing, more emotion to satisfy me. "—busy—with—" Sasuke gives up and throws his arms in the air. "Look, I forgot okay? I'm sorry big brother. Please give the book back." He looks up at me and I see the expression that assures me in a way nothing else can, that he is everything I am not. He looks at me with pure, unsullied love. His lips whisper its message, his eyes fill with the strength of his conviction and he gives it all to me, only me.

Sasuke is beautiful in a way I will never be, and for that only, do I thank God. "No I won't," I tell him lightly as I carefully toss the book to the dresser beside us. Love. I close my eyes and let the images of my brother fill my head. Images of him smiling, laughing, pouting; loving me.

But it's not enough, I need more.

Giving him no warning I fall against him, sending us both toppling down on the bed. He laughs and reaches for the book – a distraction. I reach over and grab hold of his hand. "Play with me Sasuke," I tell him as I bring his hand to my face. Slowly I brush my cheek against his hand. I feel him shiver and I can barely suppress my growing desire. I make my way to his lips, kissing first his hand then his arm on wards until I reach my destination. He is already breathing deeply by the time I finally reach the pink flesh of his mouth. Soon, I know he will lose his patience and scold me. Or demand for me to hurry up. Two different methods but the same intent—the same emotion driving them out of his mouth. I could never act in such a way.

"Itachi," he whines, "You know I can't do all this foreplay."

He is right, I do know but that never stops me. "Oh, I do?" I say teasingly. Sasuke groans and whines some more before pulling away from me. It was a different response than I normally got. I adore it as I adore everything about the boy. He is never the same for very long. I know, like I know everything about my little brother that any further teasing would leave him mad at me. So instead I climb onto the bed and inch toward him.

When Sasuke's hand is once again within reach I gently bring his palm to press up against my growing erection. His eyes go wide and I can't help but stop a little and savor his expression. "I am just as bothered as you are little brother. You are not alone. You never are." Letting go of his hand, I continue to climb up the bed until I hover purposely over my brother. I stay there for a while, completely still and taken aback yet again by the sensations Sasuke causes in me.

I wish my face would tell him what I want it to. Tell him how much I missed him today and how much he means to me. But wishes are a fool's pleas and I know I will never get what I desire. So I show him. I show him that I adore him in the only way I know how when I lower my face and kiss him. Our kiss is thorough and by the time we break away his hard breathing has become pants.

I shift my face upward and whisper in his ear. "I thought of you again today." I will not tell him the place or time, I never do. The words are true and that is sufficient. I pull up far enough away from him to see that dazzling smile no one but I will ever see.

"I missed you too big brother," Sasuke says.

I do not try to convey how I feel through my features, that would but futile; my training is too engraved in me. No emotion is likely to leave my face again. So instead, I speak and I move. No more words are needed. Lowering my head I let my lips fall first to his forehead, then his cheek, and finally those wonderful lips. The last we enjoy immensely and soon Sasuke pulls me to him.

I indulge the boy and let my body push up against his. Morals mean nothing to me. I disregarded them years ago. Sasuke himself knows no gibberish such as that. He knows just me and our love: the only two subjects my little brother ever needs to know. Just as I have planned.

My breath a soft caress I whisper again in his ears. "Sasuke show me that you love me." He does and I know I am. For with Sasuke alone, I can be alive.

-x-

Pein sends me a message at three that morning. Another job, he says, needs to be done immediately. Sasuke is curled up next to me, his head atop my chest. It is hard to not wake him when I move from the bed but I manage. At one point, during the first years of working for Pein, I had loathed putting on the standard uniform of his profession. It symbolized so much to me then. The black pants and shirt, the red and black cloak, even the ring, it all seemed so fake and supernatural—ghastly almost. As if by donning them I was taking up the mantel of death. It was years later of course that I learned that I hadn't been far from the truth. Death was to become both my constant companion and ally.

Kisame, Deidara and Sasori are waiting for me in the redbrick building Pein uses as an office when I arrive. Kisame is leaning against the wall, his large gun prompted up next to him. The other two are on the floor, a mess of items I don't recognize in a litter between them. It looks to be gadgets and chemicals of some sort but I don't dwell on it for too long. With them it is best to leave things alone.

"The job?" I ask as I seat myself in one of the few stable chairs.

Sasori doesn't bother to look up from his work as he answers me. "An old man. Fuwakura. 23rd Street, blue building."

"When?" I ask.

"Four."

Satisfied by the answer, I nod and glance around the room. Being a terrorist, Pein has no real interest in reality or superficial ideas like decorating. The room's walls are the same color as the gray cement they were built from as is the floor. The chair I am seated in had been taken from one of the local dumps. A few couches, all in disgusting condition, are thrown around the room. It is a barren place and so appropriate it makes me sick.

"Time to go," Sasori announces suddenly as he rises. At his feet Deidara swears and laughs. I don't catch his words and I'm glad for it. Sasori kicks him hard in the side and orders him to get up. Kisame, asleep I suppose, wakes at the sound of Deidara shrill laughter. He does not see what is so funny but joins in the laughter anyway.

They are freaks, all three of them. Living for nothing but the short meaningless stretches of time where they can be everything they are-no criticisms or restrictions placed upon them. They have no respect for rules or any fear of consequences. They act however they want to, be it homicidal or scientific. No human decency in the slightest. I suppose of course, that I must be a freak as well. I am here too am I not?

"Come on, I want to get this done and over with."

My words are met with more laughter and a lewd look from Deidara. "That eager to go home and fuck your brother yeah?" It isn't the first time Deidara has made jest of Sasuke. In fact, thinking back on it I believe the topic has gotten brought up every time we have exchanged words.

"Yes actually, I am. Sasuke is waiting for me in bed," I answer truthfully.

Deidara continues to look at me, his childlike face distorted by the crooked smile of his lips. "You're sick dude, yeah."

"Thank you," I tell him as I move away from the seat and to the door. People don't know how to react to the truth, it confuses them. Lies are so much easier to manipulate and believe. Truth is much more stubborn. It is unchangeable. What is, is. Nothing can be done with it. Perhaps that's why I hate it so much.

"Kisame," I call out. At his name the enormous black man walks over to my side, the large gun slung effortlessly over one shoulder. I look like a child standing next to him. He is somewhere between six-and-a-half to eight feet tall. At five-foot-ten I am hardly intimidating. I wonder vaguely if others see me as such. I have no special features or unique characteristics. I'm ordinary in both my appearance and skills. I am nothing like Sasuke.

Sasori calls for Deidara and soon all four of us are walking down the street. We do not ride. Sasori has his reasons as do us all but mainly it is just inconvenient. We are criminals and thus trust nothing we can't control. People, mechanics, life… Trust opens room for hope and hope is a luxury none of us are allowed. We are nameless to society. If we die, no one is going to ask after us. No one is going to wonder what happened or go looking.

But more than anything else, I believe Pein has picked the seven of us because he believes we have nothing to lose. We care for nothing therefore we are perfect. If we are perfect, we have no flaw - no weakness.

But that is a lie, everyone has a weakness.

I have mine: my brother. Deidara and Sasori and even Kisame have one as well. I do not know what it is but I do not doubt that one exists. No one can give up everything. There will always be something that gives them the necessary desire to breathe and live.

As the others and I finish killing the man and his guest of prostitutes, I can't help but wonder what those weaknesses are.

Review please? They make me so happy.