Chains

                                                          C          H          A         I         N         S

I had barbed wire in my stomach the entire night and day since the closing of my eyes to the opening of them. My restraint was even pushed as far as itching to have a cigarette between my teeth, for the nicotine to roll down my throat, and numbing the feeling overtaking me little by little.

I remained distracted overnight finding small tasks to do no matter how menial. It started with research on Danzo’s successor, but I couldn’t be in the house. Not while that was happening. I found myself wandering outside into the crisp air. A low chortle coming from the stables called to me and anything was better than having to lay in my bed at night and listen to the creaking mattress next door.

I’m a simple man regardless of an annoying pink mink contradicting me saying that I am “utterly complicated”. Her words. Not mine.

As far as I saw it, rage was barreling through me as an unrelenting and unyielding locomotive. It was growing worse by the minute.

I don’t care to admit that I find a small sort of comfort around animals. After entering the stables I can confess I behaved badly and spooked the livestock penned behind their posts. I took my mounting frustrations out on the water bucket, threw my fit of rage at the unsuspected bale of hay until the twine snapped allowing the straw to scatter around me.

I took up a pitchfork stabbing over and over into the remaining pile that had not spilled over. My entire body became drained with exhaustion once my fit was done, I physically let my anger explode and yet that wasn’t enough to sate it. I need more.

The only way I wont stew in my misery is if I keep my mind distracted. Keep it from seeing the images of my older brother and...

I ride through the night flinching during each closeup shot that flashes into my head. For the past few hours I’ve been strangling my mind to be silent and numb. I fill it in with physical sights and sounds. I cant be distracted and ignorant to the prowling danger roving through the hidden hills, behind the thicket of bushes, and shrouded behind the ribs of the trees.

I feel the quiver in the horses haunches while a heavy snort weighs as a rhythmic frayed pattern of breathing. I allow him to slow to his preferred pace until he stops altogether and when I finally manage to open my eyes and look around I find we are no where in particular but that doesn’t matter. We could be catapulted in any part of this state and the scenery would be a sight to behold day or night.

No matter what part of the world I escaped to my thoughts were always going to pin me back there, in that room. Imagining the worst but easily visualizing what was happening thanks to the provided sounds and animalistic grunts accompanied by the rutting soundtrack contributed by both parties sweating and heaving efforts. For a brief second I thought of the house catching on fire but instantly regretted it as the stone in the pit of my stomach sank into the core of my shame.

What the hell am I doing? How many times was I trained as well as instructed not to get involved with clientell and targets? I’ve had my fair share of women who throw themselves at me and all those times I had no problems when it came to brushing them off or turning them down. Sure we could have women outside the job but how the hell did this situation get as fucked up as it did? Why is she still with us? Why are we not onto another job right now? Why are we not celebrating Danzo’s fucking death especially when he was the one who slaughtered our family?

Instead? My older brother is fucking a woman who I should not have feelings for. A woman that somehow slipped under my skin and despite all the shit she gives me, I would find it hard not to wake up in the morning and seeing her shake her little ass to the radio with the sound and scent of fresh coffee being made in unison with the sizzling of bacon. The irritating way she would claim all the pickled plums as her own. (Not that I’m complaining, I dislike sweet things).

I wasn’t sure if it was the narrow scope from being in close interaction with Sakura that brought this on or if it was the fact that Itachi was often more placid and naturally talented at hiding away his feelings so therefore wished to mirror what a normal empath did. And I’m not talking about myself by any stretch of means. The only person that could exhibit that type of reflection was the only one I wanted to forget about right now.

Doesn’t matter how focused I maintained myself through breathing or distraction, the sharp images continued to molest the farthest reaches of my membrane. I would rather be dealing with the secret faction in Tokyo known as the Anbu Assassin Corporation than this whole fucking mess. I’m not going to elaborate how fucking miserable I was during that time but I will say heartache is real. I can hide the expressions and emotions by burying them in a deep box inside myself but the physical twinges of pain against the faceted organ was to say the least inconvenient.

By the time the sun rose it seemed things subsided. To add insult to injury, just when I finally calmed the ebb and flow of emotions as well as thought ratios by breaking in the broncho, here came little miss thing in her short shorts gawking at me. I willed her to turn around and go back inside. Hell I even tried to ignore her but the longer she lingered the more frustrating I became.

Kill it. Stuff it down. Don’t let her see me in this state.

Being stoic is as natural as breathing to me.

Acting unbothered I asked her if she needed something, but as the silk of her words bound the knots of anger jabbing against my insides. Fucking idiot. Just send her away. Nope, just as easily as my irritation did, so too did she get under my skin. It was very annoying to say the least.

On the ride I could only think about how vexing it was that I wasn’t able to escape my dejection and yet with her hands around my waist, cheek pressed to my back, and thighs dug into my outer ones, it all seemed to dissolve. God forbid if I will it away it should remain stuck to me like the strongest adhesive, yet the one that is the cause of this self pity touches me, everything melts away with the miles we put behind us.

The symptoms seemed to worsen through a portion of dinner, bleeding through when watching television, until finally it came to a head at three in the morning. The witching hour. Only now it wasn’t my turn to lie awake worried about the balance of the household. I dress to make sure I can easily move. My draft pick is my signature breathable cotton that clings to me and moves when I move embodied in my under armor gray tee. The added bonus is the wick protection. Accompanying my taste is low waist fitted men’s jeans that are boot cut so that the length touches just under the tongue of my Nikes.

Believe me, when I dressed I knew what I was preparing for. A warrior is only as good as the armor he chooses to fight in. I remember him chastising me in a similar fashion the night he found out Sakura and I had sex. What a hypocrite.

His sweeping movement stills the motion of the porch swing and I have his undivided attention when I come into the ring of light before his feet.

I fold my arms firmly across my chest digging the tips of my fingers into my skin. This isn’t meant as an intimidation tactic, its just comfortable. My stamina and balance allow me to easily lean against the wooden beam across from him while keeping one foot crossed over the other. A sign to him that there’s no aggression coming his way...yet.

“Clearly there’s something on your mind. Little brother.”

“Don’t play that card with me. Not about this.” Itachi braces his long toes against the grain of the wood. My eyes snap back to his and they’ve transitioned to narrow and slightly hostile. His shoulders haven’t tensed so I see no need to change my stance.

I take the opportunity to glance through the screen upon the door making sure there aren’t green eyes burning behind the darkness. This altercation I prefer to keep private. Just between us brothers.

“Why her? Honestly Itachi you always-“ His voice overlaps mine and I lose my train of thought in order to listen to his excuse.

“Don’t start with that. We both know what this is.” I click my tongue to my teeth, flexing my fingertips digging deeper upon my skin.

“Do we?” I quip back dripping with sarcasm.

“Using a condescending tone now?” He relaxes back against the backboard of the swing. An arrogant sign that he’s not threatened by me in any way and therefore regards me as nothing more than a fly buzzing around his head. Easily swatted away. This prompts a more physical change in my appearance. I don’t realize I’m creasing my brow until Itachi’s own furrows in response and the dark depths of his cold stare is hidden beneath the hood of his lids.

“Itachi.” I urge in a warned frustrating tone.

“What Sasuke? Are we going to fight about this like boys? As if I took one of your toys?”

“You’ve never done that. You’ve always looked out for me because mother and father instructed you to do so and I’d like to think because you actually wanted to. Because there was some small semblance of affection the day you saved me from retaining the same fate as both our parents with a clean smile under my throat.”

“Touching my sympathies is yet another low blow.”

“My point is, we’ve never fought. Not about anything like this. And were you not the one that accosted me for screwing a target? So what’s changed between then and now? Now its fine for you to do the same thing?”

“Is that what this will be about Sasuke? Punishment?”

“Well, I’m not saying I don’t want to bash your face in at the present moment no, but I wont let this continue either.”

“Now we’re calling dibs is it?”

“For fucks sakes! You’re a logical man. So tell me, what is one brother plus the other brother equal to sharing the same feelings for the same woman? I’ll tell you. Its going to end in misery or one of us disowning the other.”

He ruminates on this. A long stretch of a minute plays out before he glances back up at me.

“And if I said I didn’t want to give her up?” I can feel a chill ripple through my spine and its not from the sense of fear, but adrenaline. I can feel the rage course through my blood like gasoline sending sparks through every fiber of my being. My body hums alive. I can taste copper on my tongue and before I see nothing but red and black out I need to rein myself in.

This isn’t a hit, a target, or a job. This is mybrother. Pain in the ass he may be, he’s the only thing left in this world that can attach me to it. In reality if I killed him, there would be nothing but a hollow feeling replaced inside the  current spot of anger welling inside me. I would become a ghost floating through my years left on the earth. However limited they may be.

I need to keep that in mind while the aching in my stiff nerves are ready to pounce and bash away at him slowly begins to  unwind. He sees my change but remains impassive and undisturbed.

“Come.” He utters. “If beating me will make you feel better, do so.” I would love to. I can feel the trembling in my fists still present. I could connect bone to bone and crash down on him with all the fury of a tornado until all the shapes in his face distort. Until he becomes unrecognizable. Until all his bones splinter and he becomes a faceless monster no longer my brother.

I’m on the verge of it. I can feel the buzzing in my toes to charge from my spot and pound away until my limbs become sore and my knuckles bloody from his tissue as well as the raw scrapes over my own flesh and bone.

I restrain myself again. For the second time. I fear by the third my head will cloud over and I wont remember what happened until the morning. I cant hide the grit from my words as I ground them between my teeth, but I keep my tone polite. I’m wavering. There’s an underlying tremble to my voice.

“I am asking you. As your brother. To yield here and now. Even if that means us leaving for a time. Until you can accept that this is the only woman I have ever been fond of. The only one I believe will be able to accept what and who I am despite the shitty occupation. Otherwise I will accept no other. None at all.”

He draws in breath expanding his chest and holds it for a few beats. I myself can hear my pulse drumming in my ear, feel it ticking against my jaw. I expect this to end with fisticuffs otherwise I would have worn my comfortable boots. The area under my fingers is numb, the skin stretched over my knuckles is white as I await his reply. He draws this out and whatever he says will either remedy the situation or further spiral it into a life altering experience.

If he says no to my face I will beat him to the best of my ability to a bloody pulp. I expect him to get more licks in than myself given his natural skill as a fighter, however I will not come away without my own reward in his pound of flesh. I aim to claim one of his teeth as well even if it should embed into my hand. Once I recover I will carry my wounded self up to her room where I will say a swift farewell and walk away for good.

I hate dating. I hate engaging in the complicated courtship of the female prowess. I hate the dance of revealing ones self painstakingly slowly one page at a time over a hearty meal that I will be expected to pay (and gladly). I hate that eventually the quirks I find about her will turn into habits that are annoying and irritating. I hate that I will have to hide my true job and come up with a back story which I will remember, but eventually be confronted with having told the truth to which will only further the damaged relationship into an unhealthy altercation.

With Sakura its laid out. My past, my present, and there’s been no pretenses. Just my natural state and the easy presence of being able to talk to her. She dances around my frustration with lithe ease and almost mocks my fits or anger equivalent to a relative pinching ones cheek. But in her annoying way I commend her for putting up with my stoic self.

Its easier to confess this all in my head and harder to get the words past the gate of my lips but there it is. To show my vulnerable underbelly to my older brother is humiliating and degrading to my pride. If nothing I hope he can appreciate the guts its taken just to show the soft portion of myself. But in doing so as I said before, could lead to him heartlessly spearing me through the gut and watching me bleed out against my demise he constructed.

He stands. I tense. I have been trained for this. To move in unison should my opponent strike. To mirror blow by blow but be better, faster, and let them tire before finishing them off. He strides over. His tactic is always being calm and quiet. His flat feet fan across the porch with silent grace easily eating the space between us. I lower my arms ready to pivot on my heel and give a good uppercut Southpaw style. That will grant me the reward of his lower tooth.

His hand eclipses my peripheral vision and I know I will allow him to land the first blow. That will be enough incentive for me to hear the ring of a fighters bell and begin my assault. He brings himself close, I can feel the heat of his breath despite the chill from the crisp night. His fingers weave around to the back of my head and our foreheads bump against one another. He smiles. I’m taken aback as we still.

Its almost disturbing how close he is like this but it reminds me of when we were boys pitched in a tent in the backyard and we misjudged the temperature overnight. It was colder than anticipated and by the time I awoke my small arms were looped around his and I was snuggled up close. Only then he smelt like Mac and cheese. A dinner mom hastily made for us because we were too excited to actually stay and eat inside because we needed to prepare for the overnight outside. But here he smells like I do. The anticipation of sweat and nervousness.

He speaks calmly. And as Itachi often does, just once, so one better listen and listen closely.

“I only want your happiness. I’ve never heard you speak so passionately from the heart before. Not like that. I leave the matter to you then, Sasuke.” He retreats back inside leaving me in a stupor. My eyes train on where his figure was seconds ago. I’m flabbergasted. I was not expecting that reaction in the slightest. I was poised for a fight. I prepped for the occasion and knew the night just had to end in that way. Yet here I was standing by myself in the dark as the sound of his bedroom door echoes down the spanse of the stairs. Now I was unsure of what to do with the rest of this pent up aggression.

It couldn’t be that easy. I made a mistake. He made one. He would turn round and come back down laying a low blown sucker punch to my gut. I take his seat on the bench letting it rock me until I slide into the seat fully allowing my once erect body slacken from the sway.

What the hell just happened? There had to be a further discussion in the morning. He would corner me this time and tell me he was going to vie for her affections. Yet he basically just gave me his blessing. What the fuck?

It was as if our target laid down his guns and just opened his arms welcoming the barrage of bullets put into him. Could it be that easy? Leave what to me? Then it hit me. Fuck. This was going to be one of the worst conversations of my life and it just had to involve Sakura and I alone together.

Fuck.