[closed] it took all the man in me

[anbu]

Who: Itachi Uchiha and various.
When: Aereuer 13th.
Where: Looking-Glass House.
What: Memory sharing event.
Warnings: Mass death/genocide, war themes, gore, violence, trauma, child soldiers, very sad but cute brothers. I'll update if/as other things come up.





[To the vast majority of the Mirrorbound who cross its path, Itachi's mirror is plain and unassuming, its silver surface set into a black wooden frame. They will notice complicated carvings, some strange cross between Japanese calligraphy and other, indecipherable symbols unlike language. There are only two distinct images: the first is located on the upper left corner of the mirror and features an avian animal with beady, jewel-like red eyes; the second is located on the bottom right corner and features a pinwheel design. If further investigated, it'll become obvious the mirror also carries a burnt scent, as if the wood has recently been charred by fire.

Sasuke will see a much more detailed and familiar frame. The faces of their parents; the face of Uchiha Shisui; the Mangekyou Sharingan set within the shape of an actual eyeball; Akatsuki clouds; and the Uchiha fan directly beside the leaf's symbol of Konoha. It takes no guesswork to understand who this mirror is meant to represent.]

—

[OOC: Due to this event being exposition-heavy, scene specific, and intense (as well as a desire not to get too overloaded), I will not be writing any general open prompts! This also helps me keep each thread interesting and unique. That said, I'm open to plotting something. Feel free to reference my plotting comment here so we can hash something out. I have a list of memories here, but it isn't exhaustive. I can find something else if none of these are appealing.

Starters will be posted below as I write them!]

Comments

[eyeforaneye]

[ His eyes don't bother to follow Itachi; whether he's blocking a route back into that mirror or not doesn't matter to him. He's planning no further invasion of it or of his brother's privacy, silence continuing to reign for a few minutes longer until his voice is clear and strong. Emotionless, as it should be at this point in his life. ]

I saw the truth of how things used to be. How you avoided me when we were younger just to sit by yourself at night, and how our father spoke about the awakening of your sharingan. How you reacted to those words.

I don't remember him so coldly. [ It's almost said nostalgically but that thoughtful tone is placid and misleading of its true meaning. He's learned more about him than he wanted to know and now he's wrestling with a shifted image he wasn't prepared to confront, equally struck by their mother's lack of enduring conviction. And yet... neither are surprising. Just dull aches on top of dull aches. ]

[anbu]

[The memories are not as fresh in his own mind, which is expected. He hasn't relived them. There were many nights he'd chosen to avoid his family, in particular the younger brother who hung adoringly on his every word and action—far past the point Itachi felt himself worthy of any kind of adoration. Easier to see it twisted into jealousy and resentment and, later, irrevocable hatred.

Hatred is more challenging to navigate than whatever Sasuke must feel toward him now.]

... Memories have a way of distorting themselves based on our perceptions. The actual reality of how a person was in the past may be nothing like how we recall them. [Vague, as if to avoid addressing anything at the heart of his brother's words.] That said, our relationships were different.

[Itachi looks at his own mirror, studying the details etched into it, speaking as if to the glass rather than Sasuke.] I remember the relief to have awakened the sharingan. I also remember the dread that someday you would as well. All of that seems long ago.

[eyeforaneye]

[ Heavy realizations weigh on him as he processes the reality of what he'd seen with that detached tone, and Itachi's response turns almost predictably philosophical. They were each born in cages, after all. Sasuke's was plain, dull, and rusted, but plastered with pretty pictures of a false outside world just ready to be torn away. Itachi's was gilded and fine but it was smaller, limiting, and exposed to all the harshness awaiting them. If he wanted to cope with a jailbreak, he would first have to convince himself the bars were weak enough to tackle.

Itachi's spent his whole life playing tricks on others and on himself, twisting his view of reality to suit his needs, and within every step away from objective truth there lies a lesson waiting to be bestowed upon his younger brother. Sasuke snorts quietly, eyes fixed on some distant point. ]

I saw him treating you badly. It doesn't need to be remembered one way or another to be what it still is. He sometimes treated me distantly too, but any anger I felt over that dried up long ago. This feeling is new and over something fresh... it doesn't mean I don't still love him more. [ That's why it hurts, after all. ]

Seems as though you had to make sacrifices to awaken your own sharingan and sacrifices to awaken mine.

[anbu]

[Itachi realizes, as he listens to his brother speak, they've never discussed their own father in this way. It shouldn't be as startling a realization as it is. Of course they haven't: by the time Sasuke was old enough to understand his own life and begin to untangle the complicated web of their family, Itachi had stepped into an unreachable place, deliberately distancing them. Then their father was dead. Any time after that period would be colored by the red of his own lies, ones which had taken shape in reality as soon as he had committed to them, but... even he couldn't predict the true unraveling of events.

That seems stark, now, in this dimly lit room in an entirely different world than their own. Having this conversation at all was never part of his plan — should never have been possible.

He's encountering Sasuke's maturity again. It takes a long, quiet moment to summon up a reply. Something real; deflection hasn't worked and may never again.] Father... was a complicated man. While he may have had good intentions, he was defined both by his role as the head of the clan, and by his own bitter memories of the war. I recall mostly frustration toward him in those later years. I could not understand why he would choose to pursue more violence rather than cooperate with the village, but it simply wasn't possible in his eyes. And this was reflected in the sentiment of many others at his side.

[Perhaps the vague, dream-like quality of this midnight place makes it easier to say these things, his gaze focused on the shimmering silver of his own mirror. He finds himself studying Fugaku's face on the wood.]

That night, he told me to look after you. [...] I suppose that was his dying wish. He accepted his own fate without question or fear.

[eyeforaneye]

[ Again Itachi avoids any black and white judgements laid down upon their father, but it's striking what a difference just a change in tone makes. He's not avoiding openness. He's freely sharing his feelings and the reason for their complexity is the matched complexity of the man he describes. Yes, Fugaku was a complicated man who had two complicated sons and was forced to navigate a complicated relationship between family and village. ]

... I wouldn't have expected that from him, [ he returns cautiously, taking a moment to let any emotions that statement sparks simmer, ] but I know that it's true.

[ I saw it. You showed it to me. Words he knows he needs to say, but not yet. This isn't the time for that conversation. ]

But I suppose he didn't think I could manage it on my own, and he was correct. He needed more time than he had to make sure we were both strong, and in the absence of it he gave that task to you. I had you... but you had no one. I understand better now than I used to just why he was so hard on us, but with more focus on you in particular.

[ Sasuke would always have an older brother to help. ]

[anbu]

[Sasuke's certainty in his admission isn't missed, black eyes directed sidelong in a brief determination of its validity. There is a sense that it is not his younger brother accepting his word as plain gospel for its sake alone, but all of that washes out with a single statement—I had you, but you had no one.

It wasn't always true. Once he'd had Shisui, at least until even his closest friend was taken away, but the solitude of his early life (or perhaps in more stark self-reflection, his entire life) was not something Itachi ever thought he had minded. It was simply the reality he'd chosen.

Now, standing beside his brother and speaking freely of their thoughts, he can't help but wonder if sacrificing such companionship came at a higher cost than even he had realized then.]

... Perhaps. It's easier to reflect on those actions and consider them outside the influence of the moment, now.

[The words are quieter, almost non-committal, the tone of someone bled dry of their ability to communicate so baldly. Dream or not, Itachi feels exhausted.]

don't come at me with that beautiful icon

[eyeforaneye]

I don't know if it's hindsight affording me clarity or if my perception's just stronger now than it used to be.

[ Fingers trace along the wall as he turns, suddenly, his own movements slow but measured. His own exhaustion isn't something he attempts to hide but he won't allow it to cause him to falter, gaze cutting back to his brother despite himself. ]

I'll need time to decide. [ As close to a goodbye as he believes either of them need to come, face returning to its usual mask of impassivity as he forces himself to again look away while taking his last few steps from the room. He has little doubt that those will be the most challenging memories he'll view tonight and he needs to dwell on that before he pushes his way into any others. ]