#uchihaprodigy

If only it were that easy. To ask questions and receive honest answers. However, Itachi is so wrapped up in fabrications of his own making that he spills truths, lies and half truths all in a single breath. It’s up to his listeners what they accept and what they don’t.

His mind buzzes with static; sharingan spinning, filtering a lifetime’s worth of memories in a blink. Disjointed words jumble from the recesses of his mind, fragmented sentences that need chewing, parsing. It’s really not the best time for his eyes to itch the way they do.

“Or what? You really think you can threaten me?” He laughs, dragging fingers down his face as black feathers, caught in the current of his chakra, swirl and pulse to the beat of his heart.

“Think again.”

It was a bold move, that much she knows, but what else can she do exactly when you are facing someone as Itachi Uchiha? She looks back at the rest of the squad, mostly made up of medical nins. They did not expect this encounter after all as they are in the forest to gather herbs to replant in Konoha’s greenhouse.

Who would’ve thought this short trip up the mountains would end up with them facing the man Konoha has been trying to get their hands on for years?

The sudden spike of chakra didn’t phase the pink haired woman at all, in fact it brought a smile to her face. It meant he was actually going to answer the door. She was so sure he was just going to ignore the knock and continue on with whatever he was doing before. 

Her smile remained when he cracked open the door, in fact, she looked a bit excited when he said her name, “Ah! You remembered my name.” Not something she was expecting considering how little they’ve had the chance to interact. She’s healed him a couple times in the past but that’s about it.

She was quite happy he wasn’t just outright glaring at her. She was so used to Sasuke’s level of Uchiha crankiness that Itachi’s near blank expression peaking through the crack of the door felt like a welcomed change. Out of all the Uchiha she has met, Itachi had the least crankiest expression on his face. She was pretty sure that chronic glare was genetic for them, at least, it seemed that way when it came to Sasuke.

“Yes, you can help me by taking these chocolates and eating them.” She held out the box at him while he peeked through the door.

“I made you some Valentine's chocolate. Even went through the extra effort to make them into hearts! They’re a bit deformed looking but I tried.” She continued on, still stupidly holding out the box, completely expecting him to take it,

It was not supposed to be her turn to be the designated sober friend in charge of making sure she and her companion got home. Actually that had been her the last time she was dragged to some party that she honestly had no time or business going to. But by the first half hour her partner in crime had slipped off and promptly gotten more than just lucky. By the time Kiya found out several tasty beverages had been consumed, but had been left alone. With relatively no one to talk to.

So now she was alone, avoiding potential disaster and trying to make sure that if she was going to keep drinking at least there should be food consumed right alone with it. The puff pastries were particularly delicious.

It’s during contemplation of wondering if she could just slip out (with her friend currently making up with a significant other and doing so loudly down the hall), when she turns to find a body up in her personal space and leaning forward. Against… her? Or the table? He is taller than her but it’s not hard to be, and if she wanted she thinks she could either slip out it be able to kick him hard enough.

Oh, she knows this person. “Uh, hello?” And he doesn’t remember her? Mutual friends and whatnot, but clearly he doesn’t remember her. They haven’t hung out together, not really. On one hand he looks like he’s totally out of it and even if she might be slightly past tipsy, he’s definitely either drunk or stoned. And sleepy?

Then his mouth opens. And out comes one of the cheesiest pick up lines she’s ever heard and if he wasn’t being utterly adorable while out of his mind she might have kicked him for the smirk. It earns a snort of laughter and a sigh. No kicks.

Instead Kiya’s hands go to his hips to help steady and give some semblance of balance. Even if she’s sorta enjoying the whole pressed-up-against-something situation. Just, you know, she might wish they were both more sober for this. And against a wall. Or something not covered with food and drink and potential messes. “Itachi, you know me. We’ve met before.”

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Sacrifice...

Deception...

A  dark  prediction  in  her  body,  but  a  warmth  upon  her  face  :  Mikoto’s  joy,  gently  unobtrusive  in  the  space  between  them.  It  was  a  skill,  exchanging  personhood  for  motherhood,  shelving  the  worry  from  his  sight  like  memoirs  in  a  shoebox;  only  her  Lord  husband  would  be  allowed  to  see  the  inner  compartments  of  her  psyche.  For  Itachi...  

For  Itachi,  there  was  only  this.  A  pleasantly  cool  room.  A  family  dinner  table.  The  sugary  scent  of  a  mother’s  love.  The  offer  of  being  a  normal  boy,  ever  present,  even  if  he  did  not  wish  to  take  it.

Shisui was not expecting an almost immediate response. Honestly, he’s been too afraid to look at his messages, unsure of what the guy on the other end was going to say. Maybe they’d laugh at him and turn him down. Maybe he shouldn’t have done this at all. What if this complete stranger distributes his photo to other complete strangers? Sure, his face isn’t in the picture and that could technically be anybody, but still.

All flavors of regret are running through his head as he lay there in bed, suddenly sweating, fingers trembling somewhat.

And it takes him a bit to work up the courage to pick up the phone and read the message after it comes through. Has to suck in a few deep breaths, tell himself he could claim that wasn’t him if threatened, and delete+block is always an option if things go pear-shaped.

He is not expecting a message from Itachi, however. (And there’s that big part of him that’s wishing it’s Itachi on the other side of the conversation he’d been having with the stranger on Grindr.)

Itachi’s number on his phone seems to calm him down more than any pep talk he can give himself. So much so that he immediately goes in and opens up the message—

…Only to be thoroughly mortified at what’s just happened. Be careful what you wish for.

Shisui literally blanks out for a good long moment there where he hasn’t the slightest clue what to do now. The panic is back, all the color’s drained right out of his face, he’s dizzy, and he just wants the ground to swallow him up.

Something tells him he can’t rectify this with a simple text.

This is Itachi. This is his best friend. They went well beyond just ‘good friends’.

So Shisui presses the little green icon and brings his phone up to his ear, heart pounding in his chest, hoping Itachi would pick up. He’d sounded angry in that reply—perhaps he’s disgusted by him. Perhaps he’s mad at him for waking him up at ass-o’-clock. Perhaps it’s both.