Nightmare
By The Ambitious Blank
Disclaimer- Naruto isn't mine.
Comments- A few people who reviewed "Numb" requested a sequel... then, I started reading the latest chapters of Naruto (224+… I know, that was a while ago…) and the plotbunnies came at me and attempted to eat me alive. I decided to do something I really hadn't intended to do: write a sequel. n.n;;;
Anyway. Warnings for this one: Incest (ItaSasu, the best kind), spoilers for 224+ chapters of Naruto,cursing, more NaruSasu hints, lime-ish stuff, light blood/gore stuff. And... er, no happy ending. Duh.
"If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of yourself."
--Herman Hesse
It has been several days since the dream.
Sasuke has, for once, gotten a decent amount of the sleep for the past few days. Although he hasn't come completely back to himself, he feels better. He's found some comfort in Naruto, who visits every so often to check on him, under the guise of asking Sasuke to train with him. Although Sasuke rejects the concern with his usual cold attitude, he appreciates it.
Still, there is that lingering memory in the back of his mind.
Itachi's voice echoes to him as he passes by the locked door that leads to "that" room.
You must kill...
Kill?
Sasuke looks down at his hand. The word was so profound, and yet Sasuke had been saying it, again and again, to himself whenever he'd thought of Itachi. He still does. But somehow... the thought of killing someone else... anyone but that fucking bastard he once called a brother... seemed wrong.
…your closest friend.
The empty place in his chest aches terribly, and he raises his hand to it.
If you don't believe me... check beneath the seventh tatami mat.
And Sasuke had checked.
And checked.
And re-checked.
He didn't want to believe it. Each time, he forced himself to think his eyes had deceived him. That the calligraphic kanji was written incorrectly, or that he'd read it wrong. Each time he went down there, his heart would pound hard in his chest, vibrating through his entire body, as he prayed and prayed that the scroll down there would be different this time.
But a scientist who repeats the same experiment again and again shall never get different results. It was the same for Sasuke. No matter how many times he goes down there, no matter how many times he's convinced himself a certain line was in the wrong place, or that his eyes deceived him out of utter fear, it never changes. The words never rescramble themselves, they never tell him that to gain the power he needed to kill his brother, he'd have to leave his closest person alive. It never says that training would do the trick and give him those ultimate Sharingan.
No, the scroll does not lie. The brush strokes are firm, permanently painted across the thin cloth, definite and unchanging.
Sasuke's stomach churns as he runs his fingers over it. He forces back the bile that has risen up in the back of his throat and drops to his knees in front of the altar. Why did the world seem to hate him? Why was it his brother who turned upon the clan? Why was he, Sasuke, the only one left alive? Why couldn't this burden have been dropped upon someone else?
In a rare moment of weakness, Sasuke struggles to force back tears and fails. He collapses onto the mat, not wanting to move, not wanting to breathe, not wanting to see, not wanting to feel. He wants to die, desperately, no matter the consequences. Memories of the dream from that day floods into his mind, and he grips a kunai painfully tightly in one hand. He can almost see Naruto's blood dripping off it if he stares long enough, and with a cry, he hurls it away. It lands with a soft thunk into the opposite wall, cracking the wood slightly. Sasuke curls up on the ground, staring at nothing.
His heart pounds again, painfully, in his chest. He reaches up and clutches the fabric of his shirt, gritting his teeth against the pain. That sinking feeling, as though your heart has turned to lead and is dropping into your stomach... it ached, horribly, and Sasuke just wanted it to end. He is so sick of feeling this way, day in and day out, because of his brother. Because of someone he thought he knew and loved.
A bitter smile crosses his lips.
"It's always the ones you care for, isn't it?"
Sasuke rolls onto his back, stretching a hand toward the ceiling.
I couldn't save my parents. I couldn't save my clan. All I could do was kneel there helplessly and beg for my life.
Sasuke closes his eyes, letting the hand drop over his face.
If Itachi uses him against me… I won't be able to save Naruto, either.
Again, that ache fills his chest.
..it's as though I killed them myself.
Finally, he finds the strength to stand, and stumbles back aboveground, turning to face another day of struggling in the darkness.
That night, the dream returns.
The dream where it's his hand that slaughters Naruto. It's Naruto's blood that paints the floor, Naruto's blood that stains his hands, Naruto's eyes that stare up at him in utter betrayal, tears streaming from the once-cheerful pools of cerulean.
Sasuke wakes up screaming.
His chest aches from the imaginary kunai that carved the word "HATE" into it. He pulls his knees up to his chest, buries his head into them, and clutches his head. It was getting to the point where Sasuke thought he might be going crazy. He couldn't take much more of this.
The dream had gone one step further this time.
This time, Sasuke glances down into one of the ponds inside the manor. He stares into his reflection with blood-red eyes. The eyes of the Mangekyou Sharingan.
This time, sick pleasure filled his body at the sight of those eyes. He'd glanced back at Naruto's body.
What made his stomach churn the most was that he'd seen that blood and felt nothing. He'd seen Naruto's prone form, lying dead, his eyes still spilling the remnants of his tears, despite the fact that he was no longer breathing.
And he'd felt no remorse.
Sasuke's stomach lurches again and he runs to the bathroom. Naruto's dead, dulled eyes still stare at him in his mind, filled with the utter despair of a person betrayed. Those eyes that had so perfectly mirrored those of his parents…
Sasuke empties the contents of his stomach into the toilet again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood shakily, staring into his bathroom mirror.
The Sharingan appeared, but they were normal. He fights down the disgusting disappointment that almost falls over him. His fists clench the white tiles of the counter, glaring into the mirror, as though he could defy his own reflection, defy his own fate.
As though he could defy the fact that eventually, Naruto will lie dead before him. Eventually, Naruto's blood will coat his hands. Eventually, Naruto will be dead, and there will be no time for remorse of any form.
He steps into his room, staring at his face in the full-length mirror on his wall. Emotions play through his eyes, and yet none of them reach his face. His eyes express concern, slight fear, anger... and yet his face refuses to betray a single one of those emotions, remaining cold and still as a statue, carved from ice. It frightens him, how cold he's become.
Suddenly, Sasuke notices that the lingering pain from the dream kunai is still in his chest. He remembers that the dream had seemed much more vivid this time, and Sasuke could have sworn all the events had happened this time around. But the stinging pain of that kunai is still there... and it shouldn't be. It should have faded by now. Sasuke looks down, and gasps, horrified.
Blood is soaking his shirt.
He hurriedly tears it off, and on the pale, previously unmarred skin of his chest, the word "HATE" is carved in large, bloodied letters.
Sasuke can't move. He can't breathe. He can only stare.
His heart beats, faster and faster. Fear overcomes all his senses and he stumbles back, crashing into the opposite wall, and not caring. His reflection stares back at him, just as horrified. His body goes numb, Sasuke is utterly terrified.
A hand stretches out from the solid wall, reaching over his shoulders and holding him tightly. A tall figure steps out through the wall, blood red eyes studying them both in the mirror. Sasuke stiffens, completely paralyzed in horror.
Uchiha Itachi smirks, running his fingers through Sasuke's hair.
"Sleep well, little brother?" Itachi asks, that sick smile still on his face, "Enjoy your dream?"
What!
Sasuke's eyes widen, even as they switch into the crimson of his own Sharingan.
"Yes. It's what you think," Itachi says casually, as though he's bored with the whole thing, "I've been sending you those dreams. You've been trying too hard to defy who you are... who you have to become." He slides his hand over Sasuke's face. Sasuke is trembling... his guard had been down, and he had no way of defending himself from here... in fact, he had no way of defending himself, no matter where he was. Those dreams had made that clear to him.
"My foolish little brother. I know you go down to that altar. I know you try and ignore what that scroll says. But the fact remains that you cannot change it. The Mangekyou is the ultimate Sharingan, and for it you must pay the ultimate price. You must make a choice, little brother. Power or friends? It should be an easy decision for you, considering what your aspirations are."
Sasuke can't speak. Itachi's hands move lower, sliding between his legs, caressing his thighs. Sasuke struggles to force down the whimper that rises in his throat, and fails miserably. Itachi shivers slightly against him as the soft sound fills the air. Sasuke can sense his older brother's sick pleasure and shudders in disgust.
My body... is his playground.
The elder Uchiha chuckles softly as the quiet noises Sasuke is making become more frequent, and the young teen's hormone-driven body is starting to respond, his hips moving lightly with Itachi's hand. Sasuke is fighting with everything he has, but his treacherous body is not listening. His voice won't stop forming those awful noises. His hips won't stop rocking. His senses won't stop sparking with every caressing touch Itachi graces him with. But most of all, he can't suppress that feeling of total helplessness that is slowly overpowering him.
My emotions… are his toys.
Sasuke's fists clench and he struggles in momentary retaliation, but Itachi reaches up and grasps his slender neck, yanking him forward only to slam him back against the wall, making the wall shake. Sasuke groans in pain, but stops struggling, and Itachi rewards him by sliding that hand between his thighs again. The younger Uchiha shudders again, but with less and less disgust each time, his slender hips falling back into rhythm with Itachi's teasing touches. Itachi smirks. He knows he is winning. Both of them know that, but one of them doesn't want to admit it.
"Good boy," Itachi breathes into Sasuke's ear, making the young boy tremble, "now behave, and I'll make you feel good. Disobey…" He draws a kunai and slices a deep cut along Sasuke's inner thigh, drawing a gasp of pain from the younger. Blood trickles down his leg, as Itachi whispers to him again.
"…disobey, and I'll make you wish you never had." Itachi kneels down in front of him, and Sasuke jerks and gasps as Itachi's tongue drags slowly along the line of blood. The elder's long fingers clasp the pale thigh, holding it still as he licks along the milky skin, kissing and lapping at the warm trickle of crimson. He inhales deeply, savoring the metallic scent, mixed with the warm smell of vanilla and musk that radiate from his younger brother. It's so very arousing, the perfect mix of smells… the smell of innocence, sex, and blood. The scent of innocence being lost, the smell of blood and musk slowly overcome the vanilla, Sasuke's hips rock more desperately and the gasps and sweet, long moans become more frequent. Itachi savors each one, knowing that with every noise, Sasuke is closer and closer to losing control.
And suddenly, Itachi stops.
The older boy draws back, releasing all holds on Sasuke. The younger sinks to the floor, clutching his chest and trying to catch his breath. Itachi smirks, and runs his fingers through his little brother's silky hair.
"Beg." He commands simply, stepping back from his little brother. Sasuke looks up, his Sharingan boring defiantly into his brother's.
"Never." He snarls, hating both Itachi and himself.
Itachi's eyes narrow minimally.
"What did I tell you, my foolish Otouto?"
"I won't beg for you!" Sasuke growls out, his voice nearly becoming a feral snarl as he fiercely defies his brother. If nothing else, he'd die with his pride intact. Memories of his dream flooded his mind… there was no way in hell he'd turn into that monster from his nightmares. But of course, Itachi wasn't going to make things that easy on him.
"Then I won't be so nice to you." Itachi says, and kicks him roughly in the side. Sasuke crumples to the ground, gasping in pain, struggling for breath. Itachi watches him.
"You are helpless." Another kick. Sasuke whimpers.
"You are weak." And another. Sasuke coughs violently, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"You are nothing." Another. Sasuke retches and goes into a coughing fit. Crimson drops splatter the hardwood floor.
"Say it." Itachi whispers, reaching out and grabbing Sasuke's wrist, yanking his arm in a direction it shouldn't have been able to move in. Sasuke screams in pain, but bites down on his lower lip, so hard it bleeds, mingling with the blood already spilled on the floor.
"I said say it." Itachi growls. Sasuke remains silent, determined to refuse his brother until the end. Itachi suddenly releases Sasuke's wrist and reaches down, grasping him by the hair.
"Alright then, if this is how you want to play…" He murmurs, and forcibly drags Sasuke down the hall. Sasuke cries out in pain and squirms, his hands tightening around Itachi's wrist to keep his scalp from being pulled off. Itachi moves toward the door Sasuke had chained and locked long ago… the room where he'd witnessed his parents die from his brother's sword. Itachi breaks the chain with ease and throws Sasuke unceremoniously inside. Sasuke lands with a dull thud, struggling to try and get back to his feet, but a sandaled foot lands hard on his back, and the younger yelps and falls onto his chest, the air rushing out of his lungs. Sasuke gasps, struggling to breathe, while that foot presses continually into his back.
"Can you smell it, little brother? The blood of our parents still stains the floor, am I correct? There's no way you could have washed it all away…" Itachi whispers. Sasuke grimaces and kicks out at Itachi, only to have his foot caught and wrenched painfully in some direction it shouldn't have been. Sasuke cries out, his nails digging into the tatami mats on the floor. Itachi gives a low chuckle, and removes his foot from Sasuke's back, releasing the ankle in his hand. Unsurprisingly, Sasuke twists and rolls, jumping back to his feet. Itachi's hand shoots out, wrapping around his pale throat.
"Fool." He hisses, and still Sasuke's Sharingan stare at him rebelliously. Itachi gives that soft laugh again, and his eyes widen minimally. Sasuke jerks in surprise, knowing what's about to come and tries to squirm away. The dots in Itachi's Sharingan begin to swirl and run together.
"Mangekyou Shari--!" Itachi is cut off abruptly.
Sasuke grins.
Itachi looks down slowly. There is a kunai embedded in his side. Nowhere fatal, but Itachi snarls nonetheless and backhands Sasuke hard across the face. He yanks out the weapon and pulls Sasuke forcibly back to his feet, pressing the kunai to his throat, just enough to draw a thin line of blood.
"Do you think you're funny, little brother? Do you think this is cute?" He asks, his voice rising dangerously. Sasuke says nothing as the kunai digs deeper into his neck, only smirks. Itachi snarls and grabs Sasuke's wrists, raising him above the younger boy's head, using one hand to pin him there, pressing his body to his younger brother's. Sasuke growls an spits into Itachi's face. Itachi's eyes widen, and with his free hand he wipes at his face, and then takes a step back and slams the kunai through the center of Sasuke's palms, effectively sticking him to the wall. Sasuke shrieks in pain and writhes uselessly, unable to move. Blood trickles down his arms.
Itachi caresses Sasuke's chin with a terrifying gentleness, and then grabs it roughly and forces the younger boy to look at him. Despite his pain, those Sharingan remain defiant. Itachi chuckles.
"Your eyes have always been what I liked best about you, little brother." He says, reaching out and tracing a finger around them. Sasuke spits again, but Itachi moves aside this time, and then captures Sasuke's gaze.
"Now. To finish what I started."
Sasuke's eyes widened and he squirms, trying to escape the trap. But Itachi's body and the kunai stabbed through his hands keeps him from moving.
"Mangekyou Sharingan!"
Sasuke screams.
For seventy-two hours, you will feel nothing but pain.
The Sharingan fade from the younger boy's eyes, and he slumps limply against the wall, his eyes dark and dulled.
For seventy-two hours, you will feel your own weakness.
Itachi reaches up and yanks the kunai from Sasuke's palms, more blood trickling down the pale arms. Itachi grasps Sasuke by the collar and throws him to the floor, into the exact spot where his parents had once lain. He turns then, and strides from the room.
For seventy-two hours, you will suffer alone.
Sasuke lies still on the floor, a shattered doll, alone in his nightmares.
--Fin.
Author's Comments- I know, I know. It wasn't nearly as long as the other one, but… eh. I liked this one too. It's a bit darker, a little more explicit, and a little more… gory, I guess, with the kunai through the palms and all. Ehe.
There probably won't be another sequel, unless I get suddenly inspired. But I think I've already beaten this arc to death with just one sequel.
I'm sorry for my total lack of updates lately, I'm struggling with severe writer's block. Kaerizaki is on hold for the time being, all I'm doing is staring at the next chapter and waiting for the rest of it to write itself. It's not working. Just try and bear with me, kay:D
--TAB.