Sasuke stayed stagnant in the sand. He was buried in his own emotional ocean that weighed down heavy on his chest. It had to be three times his body weight, forcing him someplace that exists only to him. Itâs hell, losing the people you cared about the most. The feeling never really goes away. It stays with you. Tonight, however, it hurt the most.
He had no more tears to shed for his family. Theyâve all been soaked into the pillowcases at the orphanage, or his room at Kakashiâs house. Was it wrong not to cry? Itâs a human thing to do; perhaps the most natural. Yet, the only thing his eyes can do is focus on the waves thrashing against his kneecaps. He sat and thought about itâs instinctive routine- crashing forward, and pulling everything back in. He began to wonder what it would be like if he followed it. Put himself under, and not come back out. The impetus was so strong, he was ready to act on it.
The thought was interrupted, though, when he heard a stranger staggering to his left. It brought him back to reality. Who would be out on the beach this late at night? Of course, college students probably come out here all the time. But this guy was all alone.
He looked like someone he has seen in a dream before. The eery feeling made him deeply uncomfortable. The man was tall. He had to be taller than Sasuke, and thinner, too. He was just as pale, but spoke in a deeper, smoother voice. Somehow, it resonated with the boy more than heâd like to admit. It made him⊠more sad than before. He held his breath. The stranger stared. And stared. There was a connection, but Sasuke couldnât quite figure out what it was.
It was weird, how he stopped midsentence the way he did. It mattered little, though. He just might have prevented an impulsive, dramatic decision. Whether it was for better or for worse, Sasuke brought himself back to the oceans center. He didnât feel like starting a conversation. Not right now. Maybe if heâs lucky, the stranger will just leave him alone and go away.
What should he do? Should he say something? Should he ignore it? Regardless of what he decides, heâs set himself up for a distinct set of decisions and potential consequences by freezing mid-sentence.Â
How was it that years of carefully cultivated composure could crack upon one unfortunately simplistic, chance encounter?
The longer he stared, the longer the silence stretched on and on and despite the singular, minuscule voice that doubted whether or not this was Sasuke, Itachi knew it in his heart. He was so different now-- grown up and... sad.Â
A strange pride that his brother was so handsome filled him and mixed the cold feeling of guilt and anxiety. It threatened to make him sick as it all churned in his stomach.
As the other stared into the ocean, Itachi knew what he was thinking and what he was feeling... or at least, the raven in all his impetuous omnipotence, claimed to know, but there was no way he could know what Sasuke felt... Still, he felt the instinct to walk over and hug him and comfort and console him, but heâd lost that right-- betrayed that privilege a long time ago and there was no chance of getting that back. The process would not just destroy Itachi, but Sasuke as well and that was something he was certain neither of them needed.
Covering up the awkwardness, Itachi cleared his throat and slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat.
âSorry. I thought you were someone else...â he lied.
Despite the fact that he decided not to have a âreunionâ of sorts now, and against all of his better judgement, Itachi stayed where he was and made to begin a conversation although everything within him begged him not to.
âItâs cold tonight. What brings you out here?â
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