middaeg | [closed] wish there was something real

[Itachi is still processing the former comment's interpretation of his words when the apology comes. It's more than unexpected, after determining Stiles to be a bullheaded and stubborn individual who also carries the misfortune of high intelligence (aka, a nuisance to his entire life).

So he stares, black eyes slightly narrowed, in the face of it. He stares long enough that it verges on uncomfortably awkward... as if anticipating a follow-up, some version of 'hah, psych!' that would fit well with his image of this boy.

When it doesn't occur, Itachi understands better. His posture loosens and his attention drifts from his familiar for now.]

Did you speak with Sasuke? [You're transparent, Stiles.]

[ Stiles, unwilling to back down from a perceived challenge, stares back. Uncomfortably awkward doesn’t even come close to describing the atmosphere. Totally oblivious to it all, Russell contemplates the meaning of her possibly brief existence while grooming his scalp. The question, when it comes, puts him on the defensive – which Stiles struggles to keep in check. ]

Does it matter?

[ Grumpy now, he kicks a nearby pebble loose from the cobblestone road toward the gutter. Russell, with an obnoxiously robust caw, flies after it like a dog after a stick. ]

[At least Russell is having a good time.]

It does.

[This said point blank, in the same calm and lowly even tone he's used throughout this encounter.]

I want to understand your motivations for apologizing to me. If you spoke with Sasuke, then it's possible he's influenced your need to clear the air with me. [Or so is the conclusion a deeply paranoid person has drawn, one who has spent their entire life questioning other people's intentions and meanings in the desire to riddle out the beliefs, fears, and preconceptions of potential enemies.] I believe you're being honest about your opinions. But are you sorry for our argument, or are you sorry because of Sasuke?

[ Blowing out a loud, frustrated breath, he studies Itachi in the fading late afternoon light. He’s not an honest individual; lying comes like second nature, to the point where his tongue is already shaping the words to spin some canned bullshit on autopilot before his brain catches up. With a click, his mouth snaps shut as he reconsiders. ]

I don’t care about the argument, [ he answers flatly. ] Like I said, my opinions haven’t changed. And, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the kind of guy to keep my thoughts to myself.

[ Glossy wings catching the light, Russell returns to their feet with an unclaimed lottery ticket in her beak, which she places happily on the ground. If either of them bothered to scratch the ticket, they would win ten million cunes. Stiles disregards both the bird and the trash. ]

…But maybe I’d say things differently, if I had a chance. [ She tries to get his attention by pecking his shoes. ] I don’t know. I’m still figuring out how to feel about you.

[ Without even glancing in her direction, he moves away from Russell. In a fit of pique, the sadly ignored crow destroys the lottery ticket. ]

I’m sorry what I said upset Sasuke. [ A beat, marking a moment of self-awareness. Then, in mild consternation, he continues, ] …And for treating you like you’re not really a person beyond your relationship to him.

[ There. That’s all you’re getting out of him. ]

[Russell has forsaken us.]

I see.

[This is all he says in the moment following Stiles' explanation, face an inscrutable mask, as if forming some evaluative judgment on every word. It takes longer to decide his own reply, but it does come:] You aren't wrong to approach with caution given what you know of me. And it is in your nature to be mistrustful, isn't it?

[One of Stiles' memories had cemented this particular assumption.]

I have no expectation of you to engage with me simply because Sasuke is my brother. [Let's get that out of the way.] Your desire is to know more about him. It's reasonable you would approach me for this knowledge, though your methods - and my lack of desire to entertain this want - led us into our current predicament.

[Russell takes this moment to hop up onto her owner's shoulder, as though ruffled about being snubbed. Itachi doesn't move from his spot despite reclaiming his familiar.]

I accept your apology. Unfortunately, your opinions are not likely to go away. So it's best to anticipate that inevitability if we continue to communicate.

[ When Itachi begins to speak, it’s clear that Stiles is bracing himself for a “but”; his arms are folded defensively over his chest, brow furrowed moodily, body language altogether indicating that he’s unreceptive to whatever the older Uchiha has to say. In spite of this, he does listen. The response, cool and logical, goes a long way to soothe his nerves. Slowly, bit by bit, Stiles relaxes. ]

Yeah, that’s fine. We don’t need to agree on everything.

[ Not when they tacitly agree on what’s most important – Sasuke. ]

Well, glad I got that off my chest.

[ A beat. Stiles peers at Itachi meaningfully. ]

Anything you feel like apologizing for, buddy?

[At least one of them feels better. Itachi is still the same lukewarm, grey and neutral mood he usually is, unaffected by this seeming resolution. He has no perception of what Sasuke's thoughts are on the situation, but if this makes it easier for his brother... it's a small effort.

In the face of that question, Itachi frowns, the slightest tilt of lips.]

No. Why?

[Truly, he can't think of anything he's done that would warrant it. What is Stiles getting at now?]

Edited 2020-05-28 01:23 (UTC)

[ Stiles: tilts his head back to stare up at the sky, closes his eyes wordlessly, and asks a god he doesn’t actually believe in to grant him patience. Amen. ]

Oh, y’know, [ he begins in a deceptively blithe tone. ] How about for…knocking me out and then stuffing my unconscious body in a closet? That seems like a good place to start. Just an idea.

[Oh, that. Even now it isn't an action he regrets, nor does he find anything particularly wrong with the decision.]

You forced my hand.

[By making him!! uncomfortable!!]

I ensured you weren't hurt.

Edited (pls proof) 2020-05-28 16:02 (UTC)

I woke up with a crick in my neck!

[ Okay, wait, hold on. That’s not the point. Don’t get sidetracked, Stiles. Scowling, he tries again. ]

No one “forced your hand.” You made a deliberate choice. Don't shrug off responsibility like I held a gun to your head.

[ Realizing that reference might be too difficult for Itachi, he impatiently corrects himself with the wording he used when describing to Sasuke what happened. ]

Held you at knife point, whatever!

[Yes, well, talking to Stiles gave him a headache. They're even.]

You persisted in speaking with me when it was clear I wanted you to leave. You had ulterior motives in learning more about Sasuke through me, regardless of my desires.

[Only room enough for one nosy, Sasuke-obsessed person here.]

I didn't harm you, although I was capable of it. Why are you upset?

[ Temper, rising. ]

Why am I upset? Why am I upset? Are you kidding me!? [ he demands sharply, voice thin with anger. ] How can you be this seriously out of touch with reality!?

[ With a strangled yell of frustration, Stiles turns around and begins marching in the opposite direction. The further away he gets from Itachi, the better. He did his part; Sasuke can’t blame him for this. ]

[Far from the most emotional outburst anyone has had in his presence, still it coaxes Itachi motionless with incomprehension, forced to watch Stiles' quickly vanishing back. For a moment it seems certain he won't follow or protest in light of the abrupt end of their conversation.

He's reminded, inexplicably, of a sentiment his cousin had once shared. It feels a lifetime ago: said to him when he had gone to Shisui and asked for help on an impossible mission, the assassination assignment of a powerful spy that would see him brought into the fold of ANBU—another step closer to a dream he eventually failed. When he was told he could take someone else, he'd asked Shisui, citing that there was no one else he knew and no one else he could trust.

That's because you're bad with people.

He remembers those words, even if he can barely recall the sound of the boy's voice who first said them.]

Stiles, stop.

[Itachi takes a few steps after him, calling out. The crow on his shoulder is taken to sudden flight, wheeling up and over the top of a roof, a black flicker that soon settles on a windowsill's perch. He doesn't pay attention to it. His voice is quiet, yet it sounds almost urgent.]

Explain it to me so I can better understand. Why are you upset?

[ The sound of his name doesn’t make him stop, though the vibrations in the air as sensed by the trichobothria – alerting him that Itachi moved in his direction – do. While the other man isn’t close enough to grab him suddenly like that day in the library, Stiles isn’t taking any chances. And so, without turning around yet, Stiles stares sightlessly into the distance and resigns himself to a longer conversation with the shinobi. Why is he cursed to never get the last word in when dealing with an Uchiha? ]

I’m not talking about this in the middle of the street.

[ Slowly, he pivots to face Itachi. There’s a storminess to his expression, sharpened into an almost challenging look he slings at the other man. ]

I need something to eat. If you’re that interested in understanding, you can come with me.

[Continuing closer as Stiles speaks to him, he stops a short distance away, out of arm's reach—primarily out of habit and an above average need for personal space. The request Stiles makes is reasonable, even if he isn't hungry himself, at the moment. It's an activity he can tolerate participating in.]

Then I will follow you.

[Look how nice he's being, he won't even assert any preferences on a location.]

Christ. Okay, no, fine. This is a good starting point.

[ And yet he hesitates, taking a moment to simply scrutinize the other man in silence. Stiles isn’t a forgiving individual; given their past interactions, he’s inclined to flip Itachi the middle finger and take off without a backward glance. But he has to make an attempt to find common ground here. Against all odds, Sasuke obviously loves his older brother. That’s enough to motivate Stiles for the time being. The only remaining issue is how grossly unprepared Stiles is to educate Itachi on basic human etiquette. ]

See, “follow” has a pretty specific connotation. [ A beat. ] It’s creepy. Take off the shinobi hat if you can. Instead of “following” me, how about you walk with me. Like a normal person.

[He cannot, in fact, take off the shinobi hat, although those are ambitiously admirable aspirations. Itachi's brow furrows at the explanation.]

But I am following you. I'm not aware of our destination; I must rely on you to lead me to it.

[Welcome the literal and objective (friendless) hell that is his mind. For his part, at least, Itachi does quicken his pace a step so they're side by side. Look, he's a quick learner.]

[ Lips flatten in displeasure, but before he has a chance to properly scowl at the man, Itachi takes a hint. Once the Witch falls into step with him, some of the frustrated tension eases out of Stiles’ body language. Okay, he can do this. Get dinner, calmly explain why he was upset, and play nice. They’re both grown adults. This is doable. ]

Sasuke’s particular about what he eats, [ he mentions offhand, walking toward the Shopping District. ] Well, disregarding the whole Vampire thing now, I mean. Are you the same way? Should I pick a place that has like, vegan options or something?

[The parallel to Sasuke's tastes draws a set of eyes, dark gaze boring into the side of Stiles' head as they walk. For everything he knows of his younger brother, food preferences are not high on that list. It isn't as though they've shared a meal since they were both young children. Perhaps if childhood inclinations haven't changed...]

I don't have any preferences. [Moderating their choice with his own likes and dislikes isn't important to him.] I wasn't planning on eating.

[A small pause, brow wrinkling.]

If there is tea, I would... enjoy that.

Edited 2020-06-04 15:50 (UTC)

[ At this point, it comes as no surprise that mention of Sasuke seems to draw Itachi’s focus like the heat of the sun when you’re wearing black clothing in the summer. Stiles continues walking, trying to avoid succumbing to the urge to glance askance at the other man. ]

Tea, got it. [ He breathes in deeply, preparing himself to push a little on a meaningless issue. ] Just so we’re clear, are you not going to eat because you’re not hungry or is it because you don’t want to eat with me?

[ For lack of anywhere else to really look beyond the uninteresting houses they pass, he searches the rooftops and sky for Russell. ]

[The question surprises him. It feels, somehow, as though he's committed some unknown transgression, one he's not aware of making. Black eyes continue to study the boy at this turned angle while they walk, before eventually falling away.]

It isn't personal. I'm not often hungry, and I've eaten once today already. I will eat again later in the day. [Almost like a scheduled chore.] Does that make you uncomfortable?

[Communication with Stiles at times feels like a mountainous climb to reach understanding somewhere at the peak. A laborious effort, and one he's not accustomed. Socializing is exhausting...

Russell will come back in a minute, she's flirting with some pigeons.]

No, [ he answers honestly. ] Well… The idea of eating dinner while someone just sits there watching is a little weird. But since you can at least order tea, it’s fine. If you’re not hungry, you’re not hungry.

[ A jerky shrug of his shoulders. Early high school was a battle of having lunch with people who could barely tolerate him at the best of times before Scott started to build up the pack; Stiles has little interest in repeating that experience with Itachi at eighteen. ]

What kind of tea do you like? [ Then, before the man even has a chance to respond: ] They must prepare it differently here, right?

[ Damn that ho. Russell, you're supposed to be his Number One. ]

[It's a strange turn in conversation. Unused to small talk (or deliberately avoidant of it), he can only guess why Stiles would pursue a topic he likely holds no interest. Itachi would be fine walking in silence for the duration of the journey, if he had his way. And this is why he has no friends.]

Somewhat. The shops here are dissimilar to the teahouses I'm more accustomed, and the customs are stranger. The natives also prefer less familiar flavors. More acidic, darker, often diluted with additives such as milk or sugar. [His nose wrinkles in the slightest tell of distaste.] I enjoy sencha, kabusecha, and genmaicha. [These names are pronounced carefully for Stiles.] They are green teas, though I am also partial to some white varieties.

[Congratulations, you've unlocked his Only Hobby outside the arena of extreme torture.]

Do you like tea?

Edited 2020-06-12 05:07 (UTC)

[ “Teahouses.” Maybe that’s what ye old cafés were called. When Itachi begins to list teas, Stiles whips out his notebook with practiced ease and jots down an extremely rough approximation of the names. Given how disinclined the other man usually is to share personal information, this feels like a goldmine. ]

I generally avoid tea, [ he begins, staring at the word “kabusaychta” that he’s written down. ] Caffeine isn’t good for my ADHD. So, I haven’t really tried many. I didn’t even know there were different kinds of green tea.

[ Before Itachi can ask – ]

“Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder.” It’s a medical condition that means I have trouble focusing, sitting still, shutting up, remembering stuff, etcetera, etcetera. [ A sidelong look. ] Sasuke and Jonas know about it, but I don’t go around broadcasting it to people. Keep it to yourself.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

2/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject