Don't try to tell me you don't enjoy deliciously violent Uchihacest every now and then. I know you do. I know I do. Malicious grin
Would LOVE feedback. R&R is just fair, people.
I do NOT and never WILL own Naruto. I do not make money from writing this story.
el·e·gy [el-i-jee –noun, plural -gies. 1. a mournful, melancholy, or plaintive poem, esp. a funeral song or a lament for the dead.
There wasn't a place I could call home on the face of this earth. The ceiling of my small apartment was still unfamiliar after so many years and Konoha was just the village I lived in. It could've been any of the other villages and it wouldn't have made any difference. I lost my home when I lost everything I held dear.
The past generations of the Uchiha-clan had lived in a district on the outskirts of Konoha. There was also the house where me and my parents had lived. And that was where my parents had died. The floors were stained with blood, the ravenous wood had devoured every last drop. I tried to rub it off even with my own bitter tears but the stains remained, like a grotesque, black carpet. I couldn't bare to look at the stains without feeling nauseous and inadequate, weak and grief-stricken. But most of all, beyond all the sorrow I felt for losing my parents and everything I had, I felt an intense hate and fury. First I thought it was wrong to feel such things, but in time I came to realize that the hate was a blessing: the desire to avenge had surfaced. A simple, primitive need to kill.
For a while I tried living there because I had nowhere else to go.
It had become a haunted house. The silence alone was so intense that I thought I sti still hearing the lively whispers of my late parents linger in the rooms and shadows danced on the walls when I turned my back. I wasn't afraid of my mind playing tricks on me, but I knew that the house would make me go insane if I stayed there any longer.
I left, and the blood-stained, empty rooms became mere memories that were shoved in the back of my darkened mind, to become the evidence of my tragedy and be forgotten after I was ready to move on.
After I had gotten my revenge.
They had taken care of me but I wasn't made to be taken care of. I wanted to show them that I wasn't made of glass; that I was strong and could take care of myself. Determination was the one thing I didn't lack. I was a seven-year-old kid and already living all by myself in a small apartment in the heart of the village. A place I never called home.
Life itself is the best teacher, been there, done that.
Everyone was talking about what happened to the Uchiha-clan. Around me they kept their mouths shut and just smiled comfortingly at me as if everything was alright. And they never mentioned him in my presence. How foolish, as if things would go away only by sweeping them under the rug. I will never turn my back to the past, I will never try to forcefully forget things that happened. It hurts like hell and makes me wanna curl up in a ball and cry to my heart's content, but because of the past my life has a meaning. I won't die until I've fulfilled it. Life's too short for anguish.
I had taken the first step on my path to become stronger than anyone else. Stronger than him.
All I cared about was the hate I sustained. Hate, my will to live.
I woke up with a strange, disturbing feeling that I wasn't alone. I reached carefully for a kunai I kept hidden under my pillow and slid my finger through the hoop in the end, quickly analysing the situation. At the window… was my only thought when I shot up from the bed, the kunai already cutting the silent, still air.
It sunk deep into the windowpane.
There was no one in the room and the concrete feeling of having company was gone. But the window was open and I could've sworn it was closed when I went to sleep. I knitted my brows and shook my head. Maybe I just thought I had closed it. Or maybe it hadn't closed completely and the wind had blown it open or something. I was tired, not fit for thinking something as trivial as did I really close the window.
I walked to the window, collected the kunai and leaned out to gaze at the silent street below. The feeling of not being alone was gone but I still could feel it fresh inside my mind and even on my skin. The ominous feeling of someone staring at me. It had never happened before.
Though I did recall how Naruto had once sneaked into my apartment, trying to scare me or something, but I nailed the bastard on the wall with a kunai because he was keeping such a godawful noise it would've easily woken up the whole village. The idiot he was.
I shivered, partly because of the cold wind caressing my bare arms, and started to close the window.
And then I stopped.
Someone had been in my apartment, I was certain about it. It couldn't have been just a dream. If the feeling had come from a dream it would be diminishing all the time, not getting stronger like it was. I turned around and checked the room again. I even peeked under the bed and felt like a complete dimwit. No one. I stood in the foot of my bed, hands on my hips, feeling annoyed, concerned and anxious. I reached for my shirt that was neatly laying on the back of a chair and pulled it over my head.
Soon I was down on the street, leering ever so suspiciously around me and looking for the one who had disturbed my nightly peace. A lonely shuriken was hidden inside my palm, ready to slash the face of the first suspicious person on sight.
I didn't realize I was heading for the Uchiha-clan estate until I stood outside of the familiar big house, staring at the deteriorating walls and broken, empty windows, feeling even more anxious than I did back in my apartment. I still had the feeling of being followed and it made me rather paranoid. I kept glancing all around me, trying to see into the shadows and my hand was clutching the shuriken so tightly it's blades bit into the soft flesh of my palm.
The house gave me even more of a bad feeling and I didn't even know was it me controlling my legs when I took a hesitant step towards the door.
Creepily enough the door wasn't locked. I opened it a crack and the decayed smell of dust and aging hit my face and tickled my throat. No one had been there for years and I didn't know why I was going inside. I knitted my brow in confusion and admitted that I was curious alright. But it wasn't a reason enough to enter the house I had decided I never wanted to see again.
Were the bloodstains still decorating the floor? Did the whispers still echo in the deserted rooms?
I didn't want to know, but some strange force was drawing me inside, tempting me, challenging me to go and see if my past was still hidden behind the decayed walls. And I felt... a strange presence. Vague, like coming from a distance, but lingering there unavoidably.
Since Uchiha Sasuke wasn't a coward or afraid of his past, I opened the door and stepped determinately inside. What harm could a little reminiscence do? It would make my hate grow stronger, but that was exactly what I wanted.
My breathing sped up when I closed on to the room with the blood-black carpet. I wondered if the stains were as black as the night itself but I was never prepared for what I saw when I stepped into the doorway and gazed across the room.
My heart forgot to beat when I saw a cloaked figure standing there in the middle of the room, right next to the bloodstains on the floor. The blackness of the stains was indeed so perfect it almost looked as if it was devouring all the light from the moonlit room.
I didn't see his face very well, but I knew who he was solely by his presence, the crushing, heart-wrenching feeling he invaded the air and my heart with. It wasn't vague anymore. He stood at the very same spot he had stood five years ago. Back then he had had the bodies of my parents down by his feet. I could still see them. Glassy eyes staring nowhere, inanimate, bruised and bloody. Dead.
He was staring straight at me with the very same eyes I had and looked as emotionless and tedious as a living human being could look.
I knew that day would come. Hate, anger and desperation took my sense when I lunged at him with sheer killing intent, a spontaneous battle cry cutting the air and matching my speed.
My attack stopped as abruptly as if I had ran into a wall. A wall was a kunai right beneath my ribs. Not fatal, but very unpleasant and painful. Of course dying from blood loss was a whole different story. I gasped and felt something moist gush out from the wound and wet my shirt.
His other hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed it so hard I was sure it'd leave bruises. I yelped.
What a fool I was. I wanted to cry out because of my utter stupidity. Did I become stronger to act so foolishly? Lunge at the man though I saw he had no openings, knowing somewhere beneath the overwhelming hate that he was reading my movements like an open book? Right now I didn't deserve to be a ninja, everything I had learned I had ignored just like that, overruled by feelings. Despicable. I bit my lip.
He twisted the kunai in my side and I tried not to cry out in pain. Instead I ground my teeth together and took a sharp breath.
"I'm disappointed", he said and his dull voice cut the air like a knife.
He pulled the kunai out of me, still seizing me by my shoulder.
"What have you been doing all these years?" he continued and suddenly I hit the wall behind me and tumbled on the floor, trying to catch my breath. The impact had made all the air escape from my lungs, not even to mention the extremely painful remains of a sharp kick to my midriff. A violent cough shook my entire body and I tasted the strong hot copper. I wiped my mouth with the back of my shaking hand and wasn't surprised at all to see it stained with blood. Blood was gathering in my mouth little by little and I had to spit it out.
I stood up, the cut below my ribs and aching chest protesting furiously. I coughed up more blood and sought support from the wall.
"You're still no match for me" he said.
I was breathing heavily and tried desperately to come up with a strategy. I needed to think it through, as much as I hated to admit it, the man – no, the boy, I was facing was indeed a genius and completely in a league of his own.
And god did I hate him even more because of it.
Uchiha Itachi, an S-class criminal, feared by everyone. The real master of the Sharingan, the true successor of the Uchiha-clan. A murderer and my older brother. My only living relative and the object of my hate.
I had done everything just to kill him and avenge my parents. And myself. I had come this far living a life filled with hatefulness.
I clenched my fist and ground my teeth together. My great strategy was nothing more than desperation seasoned with ill determination and despise. So I attacked again, hearing myself shout but not knowing if it was really me.
It was hard to breathe. My chest was burning and I was so tired I thought I would pass out any minute now. Mustn't pass out, I thought frantically. If I pass out I'm as good as dead. My whole body was just an aching pile of bruised flesh.
I leaned against the wall, my dislocated left arm hanging limply by my side, streaks of fresh blood still running down along it, dripping to the floor from my fingertips. It was a miracle I had no fractured bones. Or at least I thought so. Who knew, maybe I had broken a rib or two.
The blood dripping from a wound on my forehead (my forehead protector was lying on the ground a couple of feet away) stung my eyes and my numb mouth didn't taste the copper anymore. I coughed up more blood, wondering how much of the red liquid one human body contained and how long would it take until the very last drop would be drained. Not long, I guessed. Not if I'm bleeding like this...
My right cheek was swollen and I thought it was bleeding too. There wasn't a single area on my skin that wasn't bleeding. I didn't feel much pain anymore, the amount was so vast I had already became numb to the most of it. With my right, still usable hand I tried to stop the wound below my ribs from bleeding by pressing it hard. It didn't help since there was nothing except my bloody, ripped shirt between the wound and my hand.
I noticed a kunai still sticking from my thighbone and reached out my hand to pull it out. More blood gushed out and I growled, grimacing.
I wanted to go on with the battle, but the sad truth was that I couldn't. I was in really bad shape, I… would be killed. I stared at Itachi who was still standing in the middle of the room, next to the encrusted bloodstains on the floor. There was more blood now. Fresh blood. My blood below his feet and on his hands and cloak… I shut my eyes and tried to take a deep breath, only causing immense burning in my chest and so I ended up coughing.
I wanted to kill Itachi. But I hadn't succeeded in landing a single blow on him though I had tried with everything I got. Even Chidori was useless and it had been my trump card. He stopped it so easily it was plain amusing and countered it with a kick that send me flying to the wall.
All the time he was completely rigid and expressionless. He wasn't even trying.
And now my chakra was drained and I needed all my remaining strength to stay up.
Itachi moved finally, like in slow motion. He walked up to me, half of his face hidden behind the large collar of his cloak. It was the first time I got to take a good look of his face and felt appalled to see that looking at him was like looking in the mirror. His Sharingan-stare was just like mine: blood red, intensive and mesmerizing. His face was narrower than mine, he looked even more emotionless than I usually did and of course he was slightly older than me. But apart from that he looked an awfully lot like me. Or should I say I looked an awfully lot like him. The same basic facial structure, the same raven black hair hanging over the brow. Most of all, the very same eyes, Sharingan or not.
"I'm very disappointed", he said and punched me in the face.
I took the punch and then slumped down on my knees when a sudden, violent nausea made me gag. More blood, cannot be a good sign. Itachi's hand plunged down to grab me from my collar and he jerked me back on my feet and pinned me against the wall.
"Hatefulness", he said. "You're still not strong enough".
"Why don't you just die?" I whispered, ignoring his words.
I must've imagined him looking amused. "Because you can't kill me. You're useless, little brother".
His hand on my throat was making it practically impossible to breathe and a string of intense coughs shook my body. He loosened his hold a bit, but didn't let me go.
"Did you come here to finish what you started? To kill me?" I managed to ask, as the question was burning holes in my mind.
"No", Itachi replied coarsely. "I don't give a shit about you, I have a completely different objective".
Hate towards him surfaced again with a gush, almost overruling even the pain I felt. I ground my teeth and tried to hold back another string of coughs. "Then why…?"
"I enjoy playing with you, Sasuke", Itachi said slowly and this time I didn't imagine it: a frightening amusement and playfulness crept into his eyes. However, his thin lips didn't curve into a smile but carried on with the usual emotionless pout.
And for the first time during the whole half an hour of violent festivities with Itachi, I felt fear. And not just any kind of fear, it was the type that made me completely numb and took all the senses, including the will to try to run away.
I started shaking.
He's going to kill me.
But instead of drawing a kunai and sticking it into my chest, he leaned a bit closer, stuck out his tongue and licked slowly blood from the wound on my forehead. I tried to back away from his touch but the wall and his hand still holding me by my neck stopped me. Itachi drew away and licked his blood-tinted lips, eyes still showing marks of huge amusement. He inclined his head a bit.
"Are you afraid?" he asked and apparently couldn't get enough of the taste of blood as his tongue flickered out again and slowly licked the right corner of his upper lip.
"Yes", I answered truthfully. Lying wouldn't make a difference. He already saw I was scared out of my wit.
He didn't say anything but leaned closer again, this time licking the blood from the bruise on my right cheek slowly. I couldn't help but to shiver.
Suddenly his tongue was on the corner of my mouth and before I even had the time to fully grasp what was happening, the tongue was replaced with a pair of hungry lips on my swollen ones.
I cried out into his mouth and tried to fight away from his touch, panicking and feeling utterly disgusted. His hand tightened around my throat and he seized my working arm with his hand and crushed it against the wall so hard I could feel my knuckles split. His entire body pressed hard against mine and I was hopelessly trapped against the wall, no chance whatsoever to move without being strangled to death or ending up with another dislocated arm.
And I had to let him kiss me, lick the blood from my lips and thrust his tongue into my mouth. I tried to bite his tongue and wriggle free with all the strength I still could gather, but the more I wriggled the more his hand tightened around my neck and he bit my lip as a warning.
It was nowhere near gentleness, his lips were forceful, demanding and hard. I was getting even more scared which simply meant I was a step closer to unconsciousness. My head refused to listen any sense I frantically tried to feed it and my mind was well on it's way into complete irrationality. Amongst all the thoughts crisscrossing my mind the strongest was a simple "why?".
"S-stop…", I managed when he pulled away a bit. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm playing with you, little brother", he answered and let my hand go. It slumped down on my side, and I had no strength left to rise it against him.
"I'm gonna kill you", I whispered and the tears of weariness, intolerable pain, fear and disappointment ran down my bruised cheeks. "I'm gonna kill you…"
His answer was a slap across my face.
"Cry, Sasuke", he said.
I didn't need to be told twice because I was already hysterical. My head slouched forward and I sobbed loudly, tears blurring all the vision I still had. Itachi let go of my throat and kissed my forehead so gently I thought something terrible was about to happen. It was a very, VERY ill-omened sign. His hands landed on my bruised hips. He apparently knew I couldn't fight him even though I wanted to.
"I hate you", I sobbed incoherently. "I hate you with the fire of a million suns, I want to kill you, I'm going to kill you, you took everything from me and made my life a living hell only supported by hate and I hate you and I will kill you…"
While I was babbling nonsense his hand moved lower and closer to my crotch and suddenly he groped me, his hand cupping around my member. It came out of the blue and never did I foresee something like that coming, but it snapped me out of hysteria, only to deliver me to the clutching hands of sheer panic. I let out a muffled, angry cry and tried to pull away from his touch, feeling even more disgusted.
"What do you think you're doing?! Stop it!", I managed between my clenched teeth. I don't know where I found the strength but I tried to push him away and even kick him, but once again he forcefully seized my arm against the wall and locked my feet with his own so I was completely at his mercy.
"Be a good boy now, Sasuke", Itachi whispered and I shook my head in disarray. This can't be happening…!
His hand was rubbing me through the blood-drenched fabric of my pants and my hips were trying to jerk farther away from his mind-numbing touch. He let out a delighted murmur when he noticed me getting hard. Involuntarily, of course. I was shocked.
"N-no, stop it, Itachi… I hate you…" I whispered and fought the moans gathering in my closed throat. I couldn't hold a small, sharp gasp.
Words were futile and I knew it. He unbuttoned my pants and his hand dipped eagerly in and closed around my whole length. I let out a whimper under my held breath when his thumb pressed hard down on the tip, massaging. I noticed my knees had went watery and his body was now supporting me and preventing me from falling down.
"W-why don't you just kill m-me…" I managed and gasped.
"Where's the fun in that?" he replied casually and stroked slowly my length. There was no warmth in his cruel hands and I realized he wasn't doing it to make me to feel pleasure, it was only for his own, twisted delight. Seeing and feeling his own brother writhe under his touch.
I hated him more than ever. He was so sick and I was so disgusted by him it made my beaten skin crawl and I wanted to kill him, beat him into a bloody pulp and hack his arms off so I could stop him from touching me.
I was still crying.
"You're sick…" I snarled, my voice slurred.
He let go of my arm and hit me again and I found it amusing that for a while I was most worried about getting a broken nose. How adorably irrational. There was a dozen more terrifying things than having a broken nose, for example getting raped by your own brother. Or dying of blood loss, I thought bitterly, spitting out more blood.
Itachi's mouth was on mine again, hand still between my thighs, stroking slowly and determinately. And I just hung there like a puppet, whimpering into his mouth and his body supporting me. And god how I hated the flaring, agonizing ache I felt between my sore thighs, the ache that almost rejected the real pain and made me light-headed.
"You taste like decadence, little brother", Itachi murmured and nipped my lower lip, speeding up his hand's movement in my pants a bit. I shuddered and tried in vain to veil a sharp gasp.
"Stop…" I whimpered and tried to stop my hips from rocking into his hand impulsively. I hated it. My weak hand rose to push him away. "Please, stop… don't…"
"If you move that arm, I'll break it. If you try to hold back, I'll break both your legs", Itachi whispered into my ear with a cruel voice that left no misgivings. He apparently had something on his mind. It occurred to me in a dreadful way when his right hand wandered between my lower back and the wall and he adjusted my hips closer to his body. Then his hand plunged even lower and one finger slid between my buttocks and stopped there.
"No, don't… please, aniki, don't do this…" I tried to say but my words broke into sobs. I was so afraid I thought I would soon lose all my senses. Which probably was a good thing, considering what was evidently coming. I couldn't stop the tears from flowing and my whole body from trembling. And still his other hand was jerking me off and I didn't know which of the sensations I should pay most attention to in order to forget everything else that was going on.
As expected, he didn't give a shit about my pleas and his finger pushed firmly into me. My whole body shot up and I cried, invainvading feeling inside me dull and painful. The cry broke into hysterical sobs and I bit my lip, only to cry out again when he inserted another finger, digging deep into me.
"It hurts, stop…" I couldn't think straight anymore. It was no use. Nothing was any use. I was starting to feel the pain again and fear was making my mind a haze. I didn't know if it would've been better to know that Itachi was going to kill me.
And Itachi laughed. A dry, emotionless laugh that sent cold shivers running down my spine.
"Foolish little brother. You don't even know what real pain is", he said, speeding up his steady movement around my sex. I gasped.
"I do, I do…" I whimpered, and came forcefully into his hand, realizing I was holding my breath. He lifted his now unoccupied hand to his lips and licked his index finger. Nothing had changed on his dreary face.
I was panting, still painfully aware of Itachi's inanimate fingers up my ass.
He stared at me, licking his fingers and then hit me again. My swollen cheek didn't feel anything anymore. I didn't bother to straighten my head after the blow.
"Does it hurt?" he asked.
I remained silent, still breathing heavily. The fingers were gone, I vaguely noticed.
He hit me again and repeated his question. I spat out blood.
"Yes, but it's nothing compared to the pain I felt when you killed my parents. Our parents. It's nothing compared to the pain I feel when I think about you and how you betrayed me and mom and dad and the whole clan", I replied quietly, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I stared at him defiantly under my bruised brow.
For a split second the expression on his face changed and something vivid flashed in his eyes. Whatever it was, it was gone in an instant and I had no time to think about it any longer because he sunk his fist into my stomach.
My legs gave in and I slumped down, gagging and throwing up blood just because there was nothing but blood and emptiness in my stomach.
"And all that is nothing compared to the pain I am going to make you feel", he said, still sustaining his horrifyingly calm self-restraint. He watched me writhing by his feet and if I didn't know better I'd say that under his unchanging, monotonous shell he was laughing his ass off.
"You can always try, fuckwit", I coughed and wiped the blood away from the corner of my mouth. It was rather useless, I only succeeded to smear the blood even more.
His bloody hand dove down to yank me back to my feet and I knew he was angry now. But you know what? So was I. And I didn't care anymore. He could break my legs, rape me and stab me with dull knives but now I knew it really was nothing compared to the pain I felt the moment I saw him standing by our dead parents, his hands and katana stained with blood.
And it made me so mad to know that he was stronger than me and he could do all those things to me whenever he wanted – including killing me.
Itachi pushed me face first against the wall, holding me by my neck and from the corner of my eye I saw him strip off his huge cloak. He had a kunai in his hand and with it he ripped my shirt in half and in passing slashed a long cut in my back, right next to the spine, from neck to tailbone. On purpose, incidentally, didn't matter. I cried out again. He yanked the shirt off me, then took my arms and lifted them above my head. My dislocated arm twisted unnaturally in his careless clutch and I vaguely realized I was screaming. It was the worst this far.
He tied the remains of my bloody shirt around my wrists and to a half-detached end of board that was sticking out of the wall ten inches above my head. I had started crying again, mostly because of the pain. I think I was same to him as a red cloth was to an ox.
Suddenly he pressed his body against me and I felt his slick erection rubbing against my lower back. I shuddered and tried futilely fight back when he took hold of my left thigh and lifted it up. I held my breath but couldn't really prepare in any way to the inexplicable pain I felt when he violently entered me. I screamed and I screamed and tears of pain and hate and anger ran down my cheeks when he buried his cock into me all the way to the hilt. He was grunting with wicked pleasure.
"Shut the fuck up", he snarled at me, pulled away a bit and then pushed back forcefully. I couldn't stop screaming, so he slapped his hand over my mouth and pulled my head back. "You hear what I say, brat? Shut the fuck up or I'll replace my cock with a fucking knife".
That was something I didn't want to try. The screaming stopped. At least on the outside. My abused mind didn't know anything but screaming. And it helped me to stop thinking.
"So tight, unnh…" Itachi murmured, pushing me against the wall.
If cutting off my ears would've prevented me from hearing his voice I would've done it without a second of hesitation.
So he fucked me, first at a snail's pace and then slowly increasing his speed, his panting breath in my neck and nails painted in black scraping my chest, stomach and arms, driving into the bruised, ill-treated flesh and drawing blood. He even bit my neck, the sore, flaring skin around the curse seal. With every hard push I gave in, crashing into the wall.
And all the time I was whimpering and sobbing mutedly, tears flowing from my eyes like a stream, leaving streaks on my blood-smeared cheeks.
It didn't take long of him to come, but it had taken long enough for me to start thinking death would be a blessing. He took a couple of steps back, panting heavily and apparently got dressed. I hung from the board with tied hands, too tired, molested and numb to stand, to lift my head or even to think. My breathing was ragged and the air stuck to my throat. So hard to breathe…
I felt Itachi's eyes on me and heard him walk back to me. He took a handful of my blood-drenched hair and yanked my head up to face him.
"Open your eyes", he said.
I did as I was told but it took me quite awhile before I could focus my vision. And I still saw him in two.
"Get stronger and kill me, Sasuke", he said and kissed my deadened lips. Then he let my head droop back down.
I saw him walk out of the room and I was left alone, naked, severely injured, physically abused, cold and numb. I felt like I was on the verge of losing something irreplaceable and that was probably my last thought before the sweet unconsciousness came.
I woke up in the hospital, head a complete incoherent blur and all of my wounds treated, wearing one of thosegustgustingly white cotton dresses that smelled of anesthetic.
For a while I didn't remember what had happened, my subconscious tried to sweep everything under the rug. Just like the people around me. Everyone was still just all smile, pretending as if nothing had happened.
Behind my back they were talking and bemoaning about the Uchiha-clan's soul-sing ing and heart-breaking tragedy that continued even after so many years. I wasn't yearning for the attention but ignorance made my blood boil. And when the truth was such a hardcore one... "Uchiha Sasuke raped by his criminal psychopath brother" wasn't really the kind of a story you would want to print in the newspaper.
And when I accidentally heard that Itachi was actually after Naruto, nothing could keep me chained to the hospital bed, and I left and went to look for them.
With this abused body and mind I am waiting for the day I will get my revenge.
Uchiha Itachi. You're mine.
You like? Knew you would : ). Again, I'd LOVE reviews.