That's Why, That's Why...
That's Why I Chose You
Hazy streaks of red and orange candlelighted the undersides of the clouds, granting temporary life to the dying sky above them and melding into tiger stripes against the ever-expanding dark of evening. In the distance, a bird cawed, and that sound seemed to cue night to fall even faster; the fields ushering their gold into shades of grey as the faint, ghostly glow of the moon struggled to rise from beneath a foggy layer of stars that blanketed the heavens overhead.
Nighttime finally descended and when it did, it hailed the moon as queen. She unveiled her face for the world to witness and liberated her soft beams, smiling as they yawned and stretched, spreading out far enough so that they were able to reach the west river and tiptoe across its watery surface. Next to the riverside stood two figures, both Uchihas and both silent, who remained in the shadows of the nearby trees, untouched by the beams and unwilling to see what the moonlight had to offer.
But the moon only became brighter.
"This wind..."
Shisui drew in a breath.
"Can you feel it?"
Itachi certainly felt a cool breeze sift through his hair and run past his ears, but he didn't reply. Instead, he just looked up at Shisui, at a face that was too long to belong to a fifteen year old. Almond-shaped eyes, darker and sharper than obsidian, hid behind several draping bangs, stray strands which framed the slim boy's cheeks. The rest of Shisui's hair was pulled back high and tied into a slick ponytail that fell until it reached the base of his neck, where shoulder met spine. As a ninja, his build was thin but strong, and as an Uchiha, his skin was characteristically pale, but with all the shadows that were upon them now, it was difficult to tell.
For a moment, Itachi studied Shisui's face as though seeing it for the first time, that face that shouldn't be on someone so young, that face he had gotten to know so well over the past year, that face which was now gazing at the river in front of them with a faint smile...and then Itachi found himself unable to look anymore and, narrowing his eyes, shifted his gaze away.
"This wind is whispering."
Shisui's voice cracked a little, before slipping into a more silvery tone.
"Every fragrance gathered and every essence captured...all of it woven together to create the fabric of wind. There are stories and secrets being carried across distances and throughout time, waiting to be unwrapped. One needs only to silence himself and listen."
When he was in the mood, Shisui had an obscure way of making everything about a pale and poor world sound even richer than rainbows. They could have just completed an assassination on an empty, open field and it would be Shisui who'd say that it was a true shame that the man had to die in such a barren place where there was no one around, not even a tree whereupon he was sure at least some brown-spotted owls would hoot dirges for him. And he would never say this in mockery or bitterness or even sympathy – his words always flowed out calmly, smoothly composed. It was one of his many traits that Itachi was rather fond of, but...
"And what story is the wind telling you now, Shisui?"
"Well...it says you're going to tell me one, one that's wondrous."
At that, Itachi gave a laugh. It was too dry and too abrupt, but Shisui failed to notice.
The chirping of the cicadas grew louder while the river frogs croaked throaty protests; the stars shone in shafts far and thin, like visible notes of a drawn out symphony, and the moon sailed ever higher into the harbor of the sky. Though the main temple of the Nakano shrine may have only been a few miles away where Itachi and Shisui stood, there was no one that would ever come close to hearing their words besides the creatures of the nocturne and the celestial bodies that peered down on them all.
"You don't even know why we're here..."
Itachi said softly and in feigned contemplation, walked slowly from out of the shadows and closer to the riverbank, where streams of the moon and her minions shimmered onto his dark hair and dark clothes and bestowed upon them lighter, more luster hues.
Shisui stayed where he was, watching the other boy tilt his head upwards, as though he were inwardly calling out to someone above them.
"Tell me why we're here."
His words grew more solemn.
"You're the only person I'd ever miss an important clan meeting for. What is it that you said you wanted to show me? Surely it isn't simply Nakano by moonlight?"
A moonlit Nakano on a warm night was one of Shisui's most cherished places. Had it only been this past summer when he had run after Itachi as the latter was heading home, eyes bright and with shortened breath? Shisui's normally pale cheeks had carried a light flush as he proposed that they "witness something that'll make you feel more alive than you've ever felt." There was something attractive in those words and it was just like Shisui to promise the impossible and have it come true.
"...Do you remember that first time you brought me here?"
Except, for Itachi, it wasn't watching the light of the moon flirt with the tops of Nakano's waters like butterflies among black roses, nor was it the permeating peace drifting lazily through the air that stirred every side of his soul. It was something else, something Itachi couldn't quite pinpoint at that time nor at any time after that. He remembered looking at Shisui, who was stretched out comfortably on the grass, hair sprawled around his face and his hands cradling the back of his head. He remembered Shisui directing him to the do same and he did; the two of them lay on the fields with their noses pointing to the stars. He remembered Shisui softly humming, drowning out the bubbling songs of Nakano with his hollow, chestnut voice—too deep to belong to someone so young—and Itachi remembered looking up to see the jeweled gates of heaven open up in the night's sky.
"Of course..."
Neither spoke for a while and the wind started to pick up.
And then, Itachi felt Shisui move from underneath the trees and towards him, footstep after footstep and the earthy crunching of grass bending beneath weight. Soon it all stopped and he felt a hand on his shoulder—that strong and gentle grip—and he lowered his head, catching his breath as he felt his world begin spinning faster and faster.
"Shisui, to me...you have become..."
A pause, a holistic straining, a finale.
Side note: THERE WILL BE MORE. This was originally a one-shot, but I'm having trouble with certain parts so I'm splitting this up into two chapters. The title of this fic comes from a part in Utada Hikaru's Deep River, which I listened to practically the entire time while writing this. And yes, the irony kills me.