Note: The first draft of this is on my dA account, username: "oozu". I didn't steal this from myself. This was inspired by a fanart linked to on the first draft on dA.

***Warning: Contains spoilers concerning Itachi, if you haven't read past his death/watched past his death, and dislike spoilers, don't read.
"Changed" refers to Sasuke. "Changer" refers to Itachi. I wrote the first draft inspired by Poe's dense writing, so parts are dense on purpose.

On the dawn of the day, the dark-haired soon-to-be Changer prepared. Armor, uniform, headband- finally the clan's effect: the family's symbol- a red-and crimson fan adorned his sinewy, tense, muscled adolescent, trained body. So he began.

Entirely altering, despite the desire to thoroughly lacking; guilt festered from this self-inflicted wound- though noble, the actions which led: an alienation, self-devised, self-inflicted, for the purposes of vengeance: friendship deemed meaningless, useless: a pain- unaffected, the child held nothing against the essential element of life, however obviously the aforementioned changed with the traumatic Change: the specific all-important never-forgotten wretched day- the day the sun ceased to rise and the blood never ceased to shed, the day innocence became spattered in red: the Changer, causer- though not rooted entirely deeply far enough for full responsibility of the events and actions that exploded that day- although the Changed did not know, was not aware, was not made aware- nevertheless the Changer experienced sufficient weight upon his soul, conscience, and being: for when an action such as this, an action clouded in the oxygen-vessels of one's carnal being, though not entirely carried out to the full extent of maliciousness, damages nonetheless- individuals perceive what is before them, not the intentions behind- especially so when the Changer's mask is thick, cemented, and unfaltering.

Tears streaming from the Changed's confused, contorted features. Uncertainty, disbelief. B-big brother? What? Why?

The Changer spilled the red from throats, directly pouring it atop the Changed. Quickly traumatizing the Changed. Sasuke fell into unconsciousness.

The Akatsuki member's orders revealed only to himself, his compassion and love for his brother too strong to move, to flick the knife as it had others close and dear- the innocence to the coup saving.

Seasons flew past, age settled into all: grown into genin became the the boy, grown into Missing Nin grew the Changer.

Imagine, view, experience his distraught as he observed the Changed, the innocently corrupted Changed- push from himself all options of companionship. Remants of the uglyness of an internal war, of an internal massacre.

An undisclosed, interminable stretch of time slithers painfully through the Changer's consciousness, as he suffers through the Changed's refusal to soften, to melt, to seep. He views the Changed's refusal to enjoy the virtues of friendship- a lonely childhood.

Creeping through the village, staring through nooks, vision poking through crannies- after ages spent viewing the suffering, the depressions, the corruption of one's loves, of one's only living love through one's own hand and actions- through one's own obedience and un-obstruction.

Imagine, believe, experience the relief, the glee, the exhale of tense sinew and nerves- as the Changed changes more- to the less-rigid side, enough so that he may know the virtues of friendship despite that one specific, all-important never-forgotten wretched day- the day the sun ceased to rise and the blood never ceased to shed, the day innocence became spattered in red. Forget, ignore, disallow the grim realization that graced the Changer's face and being that day.

Sakura, Naruto, and Sasuke walked in pleasant companionship, as a sigh of relief released itself from the embers of the Changer's consciousness.

Review, please! I would like to enhance this and make it better eventually.