Tell Tale Heart
“If we want the rewards of being loved, we must submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.”
-Tim Kreider
Daiki sidled up to where Itachi was lounging curled on his side half buried under the kotatsu, reading a book. Even sprawled on the floor with his arm propping up his head, Itachi emitted a sort of primal grace. Perhaps it was in part due to the flippant use of powerful doujutsu to memorize lines of whatever it was he was reading. When Daiki tilted his head to read the title on the spine, Itachi lowered the book. Curious, but Daiki couldn’t be distracted.
He was on a mission.
“Animals can’t talk.” Daiki didn’t phrase his statement as a question, despite the very concrete proof of the opposite currently pooled in his sleeve.
Itachi met his gaze briefly before smiling bemusedly. He squirreled his book away into some mysterious breast pocket before patting the rug in front of himself. Daiki took his queue to wiggle his own way into the soothing warmth of the kotatsu, feeling his legs bump into Itachi’s much longer ones. He pressed his cold toes into Itachi’s shins, following the younger sibling's code of conduct, shielding his forehead before Itachi could poke him in revenge.
“Animals can’t talk,” Itachi confirmed once Daiki settled down and stopped giggling, brushing a stray lock of plum colored hair from Daiki’s face.
Daiki was at once reassured and chilled. It must have shown in his expression or Itachi’s older brother senses twinged because he carried on.
“Summons, however, can speak. Hatake Kakashi in particular has a rather effervescent pug puppy in his arsenal. There are also clans who can commune with animals tied to their bloodline, such as the Aburame with their kikaichu or the Inuzuka and their canine companions.” He paused to let Daiki digest this information. “What brought this on, little researcher?”
Itachi’s gaze was searching, but not pointedly so. If Daiki didn’t want to tell him, he would let it slide. They could cuddle under the kotatsu and enjoy this rare moment of light tranquility in silent repose.
Still, Daiki was suddenly viscerally aware of his own inhuman features. His eyes itched. If he couldn’t feel the blatant concern and protectiveness in Itachi’s chakra blanketing his own in a layer as comforting as the kotatsu, he might consider bolting from some unspoken accusation or rattling off diverting platitudes.
But Daiki would never insult Itachi by lying to him.
“Don’t freak out.” Itachi quirked an elegant eyebrow at his non sequitur and Daiki took it as a go ahead.
“Takara, please come out and grace us with your regal presence?” He felt Itachi jolt at his words and kept his eyes trained on the serpent trailing out of his sleeve. He wasn’t afraid of Itachi’s reaction as much as he was suddenly and inexplicably shy.
“This bigger beastie exudes refinement and competence. He is much more deserving of Takara’s company than you, little beassstie.”
Daiki gave the snake’s head a chastising nudge, by now used to its disparaging way of talking.
“I will try to live up to your great expectationsss.” He turned to Itachi, who was looking between Daiki and Takara with- Daiki couldn’t quite discern the emotion. Definite concern, but not for obvious safety reasons. Concern that wanted to wrap Daiki in thorns and hide him away, shield him. “Takara, this is my nest mate: Itachi.” His mouth fumbled over the strange term, but it felt right. “Itachi, this is the fearsome Takara. He talks.”
Daiki waited for Itachi’s response, but all the older did was furrow his brow and sit up, pulling Daiki up with him and situating him between his extended legs. Daiki went confusedly but willingly. Itachi gently grabbed his elbow and guided Daiki’s free hand up to his throat.
“Focus deliberately on who you are trying to communicate to, otouto. You should be able to feel the change in your throat if you concentrate.”
“Itachi?” Daiki soothed his own chakra in a harsh wave, ironing out the suddenly nervous tumbles and shakes.
“It’s okay, Daiki. Just relax and take your time. If you’ve never done something before it’s hard.” Itachi reached up and poked his wrinkled brow before smoothing it with his thumb. A bit of his chakra lingered on Daiki’s forehead like schmutz and Daiki’s charka assimilated it instantly, greedy for comfort.
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither can he, speaker. As dignified as his presence is, he cannot ssspeak the noble language of snakes.” Daiki momentarily fumbled control of his chakra, and it spiked in alarm. His chest tightened.
“You mean I’m hissing right now?! That’s not- I don’t- How do I-”
“Listen to your nest mate. Calm yourself and direct your will.”
Daiki latched onto Itachi’s calming presence and used it as fuel to mask his own panic before looking further in. His chakra was currently pooled largely at his throat, adopting the same slithery, predatory feeling that had originally intrigued Daiki about Takara’s chakra. He set about redistributing the chakra until it felt a facsimile of what it should.
“Otouto?”
“Itachi.” Relief at the comprehension on Itachi’s face washed over him like fire over a frayed cord, burning away any offshoots of panic. It left him with a raw and unsettled feeling of uncertainty. “I’m freaking out, Itachi.”
Itachi’s chakra wavered before his eyes steeled and his jaw firmed.
“I can help, otouto.” At once, Daiki was soothed.
Daiki loved being loved.
He would be okay.
They would be okay.