no need to say sorry! i actually have... a lot of people in my asks over the years about this exact same thing so i'll answer everyone here! i'm definitely continuing "beloved, once" and all my other fics - i've actually finished the next chapter for them! just cleaning up and editing it, which might take some time since i'm so busy T.T
to help with the wait, i'll attach a little tiny excerpt from "beloved, once" from the next chapter!
Their meal was given to the backdrop of crying infants - the soup was both bland and lukewarm, with the taste of dust filling her mouth. Still, it was the first time she had eaten in hours, and so Miho quickly dug in without another word.
Itachi, unsurprisingly, was unable to eat at all. As always, Sasuke was unmatched when it came to his fussing.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Itachi said quietly. The embers of his chakra grew brighter as he looked over Sasuke’s scrunched up face.
A charming display, Miho acknowledged dully, as she took another spoonful of broth.
Perhaps there was an appeal in seeing Itachi take care of his younger sibling. A lifetime ago, she supposed her chest would have tightened at the sight.
Her heart had always ached for Itachi’s careful gestures. She had once fixated on his furrowed eyebrows, on the bright sparks of his chakra, on the soft turn of his lips.
They had been such gentle displays of love. And, long ago, she had once believed that if he gave it so freely to Sasuke, then surely that had to mean he felt the same towards her -
She looked down at the food in her hands.
(Despite its brief appearance, it seemed the Kyuubi and its corrosive chakra were enough to drag out memories she no longer needed.)
It’ll be a long week, she decided, her fingers fiddling with a wooden spoon. A bitter aftertaste was left to linger on her tongue.
She continued to eat in silence and swiftly finished the rest of her food. By the time she swallowed her last bite, Sasuke had already long since begun his ritual of breaking the eardrums of those around him.
She covered her ears with chakra in a poor attempt to block out the noise. For once, she almost missed the days when Sasuke knew how to weaponize the art of complaining.
Knowledge of the future (and subsequently, of her brother’s eventual ability to keep his mouth shut) didn’t stop her from eyeing the spoon in her hands.
While her stolen kunai was a lost cause, couldn’t this wooden utensil work just as well?
What a tempting thought.
“Give him to me,” she said instead. As always, the concept of spilling family blood was only appealing if she ignored how that would make her just like Itachi.
(But surely stuffing Sasuke’s face with a towel couldn’t hurt...)
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