niteo_logs | (no subject)

Characters: Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Shisui
When: 29th August
Where: Just around Nesreca
Rating: PG
Summary: After refusing Shisui's offer of 'talking to ghosts' in the graveyard he promised he would go out walking with him the following day.

He'd ended up refusing Shisui's offer to communicate with the dead. Something about it unsettled him, perhaps something to do with the fact that Shisui himself was amongst those that had left them back home. He'd managed to pass it off as lack of interest, and Raven had mentioned that she would take him ghost hunting some time in the future anyway, and that settled it.

They're agreed to go out for a walk today instead, and not long after he'd procured breakfast for them both they set out. It wasn't the best of weather, but at the moment it was only fog to put a stop to their exploration. That and the dreams, but he wasn't as concerned about those between the two of them, despite the kinds of horrors they had seen, and had yet to see.

All this time was precious for the both of them, even if Sasuke was five years his senior, and Obito so young - spending time with his brother and cousins was valuable, if strange in the circumstances.

For now, with his back pushed against it, he held the door open for Shisui.

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Why?

It's all he can ask himself as he watches his best friend recover so quickly from his foul mood. They should have been able to find another solution, one that worked. Since learning from Sasuke of the future, he wonders what the point was. Would he have been left to kill his best friend truly by his own hand, or would they have lived on together as rouge nin? The questions aren't easy to deal with, not just because they are pointless, but because the notion is selfish.

"You'll make your injuries worse." There will be no playing. He's just glad you're got that little injury there actually, because he's sure he could be roped into it.

He doesn't take his time catching up with Shisui, walking in step with him easily.

Shisui's moods were like the weather, on the surface. Inside everything was almost always in terrible turmoil. There were so many things he still thought about, his thoughts never really very far from 'home'. And amongst these thoughts was one that never really let him go: Death.

He had hoped to go quickly, but here he was, stuck in an alternate universe unable to die, unable to live freely either. Not with the ever-present shadow of death bearing down upon him at every given moment.

"It won't matter," he stated dryly. "It's not like I need to be in one piece when I get back."

Discussing Shisui's health is suddenly the last thing he cares for. His concern doesn't waver - of course not, but hearing words like those from his best friend's mouth is like pouring water over a roaring fire. This is the fate they are stuck with. There is no other reality, and clinging to anything is pointless. Being here is like a second chance, and yet cruel torture at the same time for the both of them.

Dwelling on all of this is needless, and although they are no strangers to pain and suffering, the addition to the inevitable by their own hand feels much worse. Not that it makes it any easier to move forward.

"If you don't care for hunting and training, then I suppose it doesn't matter how badly hurt you are." Spending time together, wasn't that what they'd decided to do to make the most of this? The longer Shisui was injured, the less opportunities they would have.