There were reports to turn in, Itachi always manages to do so on time. Not an hour after his arrival in the village, never one minute too late—Today was only an exception. He’s weaker, slower, more exhausted than usual. As trying not to let it show Itachi takes his time approaching Nagato, his office. Two knocks, a short pause, and the third knock before he enters, this time did not wait for an answer.
„Nagato, I have—“ Returned. Wrong place, wrong time, a heavy wave of guilt Itachi drowns under now. Not for the fact he came in like that, not because Nagato could get irritated for the lack of decency. Itachi simply did not want to put him into such a situation— he, for himself, only dares to cry if he can be sure no other soul is near.
„I am sorry.“ Instead of leaving, though, he stays, door closes with Itachi leaning against the frame, crimson eyes fixed on the other man sitting there, head buried in both hands, shoulders shaking lightly.
One part of him tells Itachi to leave, to leave him be; the other, more dominant part, cares. Too much for his own good, not that there is anything Itachi could do about it, and he shall never ignore Nagato, his current state. Wants to help, to reassure.
Itachi stays. Waits, for either the command to leave or to come closer— any words from Nagato.
Thoughts always consumed him. Always in the back of his mind reminding him of all the ways he has failed. All the people that died because of him. Everything. Always stuck in his head.
Everything he’s ever done, it has never been enough.
Tears rolled down, steadily at first and Nagato was of stone, but then memories flashed vividly before his eyes, the red so bright, dripping so cold. It became a storm and he was crying with sobs in his fists. He has failed them, and worse he has failed Konan.
At least no one was there to see...
‘Nagato.’ Itachi’s voice rand clearly in his ears like the raindrops hitting a window.
He straightens his posture immediately, wipes away tears. However he’ll stat sobbing just as soon as he opens his mouth. It’s been like that for years. When it came, it was a flood.
“At least it’s you.” his voice was messy, sticky and cracked. “It would have come down to this one way or another, I guess...”
They were comfortable with each other. They were close. That often proved to be a sin. But he shall allow it.