A/N: Okay. Idiot that I am, I've decided to take on another theme challenge—this time, the XY Amount of Words challenge. Fifty fics, and I've chosen to do Shisui (with Itachi thrown in for fun) though most—if not all—will be from Shisui's POV. So, yea. . .

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, and I'm not making any money off this

Ratings: PG

Genre: General/Family

Warnings: Nothing, except that I'm basically making up Shisui . . . considering we've never seen anything of him in either the manga or the anime. . .

Main Characters: Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Itachi

Theme/Prompt: "Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives." - Oscar Wilde

Additional Notes: Okay. . . I have nothing against the Hyuuga. Sure, they're not my favorite characters, but really, I have nothing against them. . .

The Forgotten One

Playing the Fool—

It hurts. It all hurts. Shit. I have no idea what possessed me to do that. . . To stand up for the brat. Sure, we've been friends for nearly two years now, but I'm not quite sure it's worth getting completely trashed over. At least, not like this. Itachi may be a genius, but those Hyuuga certainly know how to make someone hurt. I sigh and turn my head to the window, the downy pillow soft against my warm cheek. The room is all white—typical hospital—and boring. Nothing but a dresser and a long bedside table, a few scattered get-well gifts on it, cleverly spaced out so it seemed there were more than there actually were. I sneered to myself, finding it amusing that they thought it would fool me. Every single gift was superficial, all for face, save the one from my father. But beyond all that, there was nothing from the one person I wanted anything from. I think that's what hurts the most, actually. More than my closed chakra passages from the Hyuuga's damn Gentle Fist, more than the bruises and the defeat. It hurts that the brat hasn't even acknowledged what I did for him. I know he was told of it—my father told me of the announcement and Itachi's reaction. "Not even a twitch," he said. I believe him.

Knowing Itachi as well as I do, I should have known better. Words never really matter to Itachi—he is defined by action, or lack thereof—not words. Words hardly affect him, I know. I am not so fortunate. When I heard the Hyuuga Jounin talking trash about Itachi it struck a chord in me and my rationality took a temporary leave of absence. I still can't believe I was so damn foolish. I sigh and wait for the nurse to come and change my bandages—she's the only company I can truly expect and rely on. It seems like hours, and all I want is a friendly face (or perhaps one that is merely given the title of 'friend'). But she's not alone today, the nurse; my father is with her. He smiles at me, his grin thin and half imagined on my part. It's all an act, and I can tell just as easily as anyone else. He sits beside me, grinning his weak grin, waiting patiently until the nurse has finished and leaves. I know he won't speak until we are alone—my father is a quiet man, even if he is good natured. I'm right—he doesn't even open his mouth until the door's shut behind her.

"Hello, son." His grin melts to little more than a smile. I don't say anything, but I know he understands the question I simply can't ask; he sighs. "He hasn't said anything. I'm sorry."

I had known the answer long before my father had come—I had known it on the second day stuck in this hellhole—but it didn't make it hurt any less. I swallow the hurt back; I won't allow any of it to show on my face. "It's okay," I say, but my voice is cracked and fragile, hardly a breath, and I know he sees through the act.

I can see the sadness in my father's eyes. "Shisui, you need to stop playing the fool for that boy. Uchiha Itachi isn't ever going to return anything—he can only take, and I'm afraid that one day, he'll take all of you."

I smile. It's just like my father to say such things. I don't begrudge him it—after all, the clan has never exactly been kind to him after my mother's passing, and Itachi is everything the clan stands for in his eyes. "You worry too much." He doesn't seem eased, but I say nothing else, turning instead to the little window. I may be playing the fool for Itachi, but I'll continue to do so, even if he does take all of me. After all, every king needs a jester.


A/N: Well, that's that. Four down and still a good chunk to go. Tell me what you think!