Ch 152

Time passed. I didn't know how much. A few hours, maybe? It was dark now. 

Eventually, we ended up in a cave. Somewhere quiet. Hidden. Cold stone walls, a low fire crackling at the center, casting flickering shadows. 

The only light came from that fire. It made everything feel smaller. None of us had spoken since the lake. The silence was suffocating. Not the kind that invited peace, but the kind that left too much room for thought. 

They gave me a cooked fish. Placed it in front of me without a word, the smell of it warm and rich. My stomach growled out of habit, but the rest of me recoiled. 

I didn't want it. I couldn't imagine swallowing anything. So it just sat there, the fish, steam rising slowly, going cold on the flat stone they'd served it on. 

I just stared at it. I didn't have anything. No bag. No weapons. No tools. Nothing. Not even my boots. Just the clothes on my back. 

Damp in places, clinging in others, uncomfortable and gritty with dried mud and blood. My sleeves were stiff, crusted over. 

My arms felt heavy. My hair hung in tangled clumps around my face. I hadn't noticed any of it until now. 

Everything I'd carried with me, everything I owned, was gone. Taken? Lost in the lake? Left at the village? I didn't know. I didn't even care. 

But somehow that fact settled into me with more burden than expected. Like even my belongings had given up on me. 

I didn't speak. Didn't move. Just kept sitting there, legs drawn close, arms around my knees, chin resting on top. 

I watched them instead, Itachi and Kisame. They were both quiet. Kisame was usually the one to talk first, to fill silence with a joke or some horrible comment that you weren't sure if you were supposed to laugh at. 

But now he just sat across from me, poking the fire with a stick, his face unreadable. Blank. 

Itachi hadn't looked at me once since we entered the cave. His posture was still. Too still. Tense, like he was holding back something, maybe frustration, maybe fury. 

His jaw was tight, his arms crossed, back straight. He looked... angry. Not at me, maybe, but because of me. That was worse. 

I knew I was the reason. They weren't talking because of me. They weren't eating because of me. They were just sitting here, in the silence I created, watching the fire like it could fix whatever I'd broken. 

It was unbearable. And yet I didn't speak either. What would I even say? Sorry I tried to kill myself? Sorry I made you watch me fall apart? Sorry you had to save me? None of it felt enough. Nothing would. 

So we sat. Me, with a cold fish I couldn't eat. Them, with emotions I couldn't name. It was unbearable. The silence was unbearable. 

It was all I wanted. Quiet. Peace. But now that I had it, I hated it. It pressed against me from all sides, made my skin itch, made my thoughts louder. 

Every crackle of the fire sounded deafening. Every shift of fabric, every shallow breath, echoed in my skull. 

I was tired of being alone, even with people next to me. So I spoke. I didn't think about it. I just opened my mouth and let the words fall out, desperate to make something happen. 

"Orochimaru's going to die." It came out flat. Hollow. Like I wasn't even the one saying it. Itachi didn't flinch. No change in expression. Not even a blink. He just kept staring into the flames like they were more interesting than anything I had to say. 

But Kisame, his head turned sharply. Eyebrows raised. Not dramatic, but enough. His surprise was obvious, whether it was because I'd finally said something... or what I said, I wasn't sure. 

He spoke first. "How do you know that?" 

I shrugged, arms still wrapped tightly around my knees. "Because Sasuke's not stupid." 

That answer didn't seem like enough, so I kept going. My voice cracked halfway through, but I didn't stop. 

"He's using him. Orochimaru thinks he's in control, like he always does, but he's blind with power. So sure of himself that he doesn't even notice it slipping through his fingers. He's too arrogant to realize what's coming." 

Kisame leaned back slightly, watching me now. I didn't like it. Then Itachi finally spoke, his voice low, emotionless. "How did you live with Orochimaru?" 

My entire body tensed. The question was simple. Calm. Curious, even. But it sent a cold wave through me. Like something inside me had been pulled too hard, too fast. 

My chest tightened, throat closing around words that didn't want to come. I looked down. I hadn't even realized I was shaking until I tried to answer and couldn't. 

My mind had gone blank, worse than blank. It was pulling away. I could feel it happening. That quiet slipping-over-the-edge sensation I knew too well. 

When my body stayed here but everything else retreated. When the walls went up and locked everything behind them. 

I didn't want to explain. I wanted the silence back. I must've looked like I was about to be sick, because Itachi went quiet again. 

He didn't push. He didn't repeat the question. Just stared at me for a moment longer before turning back to the fire. The moment passed. Just like that. And we were back in it. Silence. 

The same thick, awful quiet that made me want to crawl out of my own skin. Only now it was worse, because I'd invited it back. I'd broken it and then begged for it again. 

My mouth stayed shut this time. My heart still raced. The fish was cold now. My stomach didn't care. Kisame didn't say another word. His face was unreadable again. 

"We should all get some sleep," Kisame finally said, standing and stretching with a quiet groan. "I'll take first watch." 

He didn't wait for a response. He just walked out of the cave, Samehada dragging lazily behind him. His massive frame disappeared into the night, swallowed by the shadows beyond the firelight. I heard the faint crunch of his footsteps on the dirt and then... nothing. 

Itachi didn't say a word. He shifted slightly, adjusted his position by the fire, and closed his eyes like sleep was something that came easy to him. I didn't move. I couldn't. 

I stayed exactly where I was, curled up and stiff, trying to trick my body into relaxing even though every part of me was still humming with tension. 

My shoulders were locked tight, my legs ached from how long I'd been sitting the same way. I took a slow breath and tried to let it out gently. 

That's when I felt it. The filth on me. Dirt. Blood. Dried lake water. It clung to my skin, to my clothes, thick and itchy and stiff. My fingers brushed my arm and came away gritty. 

I realized my neck was sticky with something I didn't want to identify. My hair felt heavy and matted against my scalp. It was disgusting. I was disgusting. 

I needed to wash it off. I want to.

I wanted to... 

...But the thought of going near water made my chest tighten all over again. My body flinched at just the idea of it. 

Cold. 

Deep. 

Pulling me under again. 

No. 

No, not yet. 

I sat there, not knowing what to do with myself. I didn't want to sleep. I didn't want to close my eyes. I didn't want to see what was waiting behind them. 

Out of habit, my gaze drifted down. The fish was still sitting in front of me. Cold now. Slightly shriveled around the edges. But still there. Still food. 

My stomach twisted. I hesitated, hand hovering. Then I picked it up. The skin was a little too crisp. It flaked under my fingers, and the first bite was overly salty and slightly burnt. 

But it was warm enough to still carry flavor. Real flavor. It filled my mouth and settled in my stomach like something solid. Like something of actual worth.

I chewed slowly, then took another bite. And then another. I didn't stop. It was the first thing I'd eaten in... I didn't even know how long. 

And for just a moment, just one small, fragile moment, I felt okay. Not happy, but not broken. Just a flicker of normal. A tiny flame in a sea of dark. 

I felt myself smile. It was so small I barely noticed it. Just the corners of my mouth turning up. But then, just as quickly, I froze. The smile held for half a second longer... 

...and then crumbled. 

Tears came next. Soft ones. Barely there. No sound. No sobbing. Just a few warm drops rolling down my cheeks without permission. 

I cried because I felt guilty. Because I'd smiled. Because I was eating while everything else was still wrong. Because part of me had felt good, and I didn't think I deserved that. 

So I cried while I ate. One hand holding the fish, the other wiping at my face like it would make a difference. 

I kept chewing, even as my chest trembled and my throat tightened. It was the quietest breakdown I'd had yet. 

But at least I was eating.

A/n On her way to get better! Writing these all out throughout multipul days until I run out of passion. Then you'll have to wait and then I do this again. I should maybe get better habits for this kinda thing because i have actual people reading this but I can work on it slowly. Hoped you liked the chapter and the plot in general! Enjoy~