Ch 121

I sit, and I wait. 

That is all I can do. 

The hours stretch like elastic, taut and endlessly pulling. I try to distract myself, but my mind keeps circling back to the same thing—the day, the moment, when it will finally arrive. 

There's nothing more I can do, nothing more that needs to be done. It's all out of my hands now, just a matter of time. 

So I eat, though the food tastes bland, and sleep, though my dreams are restless. I tell myself to stay patient, but patience feels like a foreign concept, something I'm still trying to understand. 

It's a strange kind of waiting. 

Not the excited, hopeful anticipation of something that's coming soon, but the quiet, unnerving stillness of a deadline you can't control. 

The waiting seeps into everything. Time feels distorted, thick and slow, like I'm trapped in a loop of hours that lead nowhere. 

I glance at the clock, not for any real reason, but because it seems to be the only thing I can rely on. It ticks away, indifferent to my anxiety. 

So I wait. 

There's nothing else to do. It's just the waiting, the endless waiting, until the thing I've been anxious for finally arrives. 

But that is in two days, I'm half way through. 

I am in my bed, a rather modest but still comfortable one. It is not too late, but trying to go to sleep will make it so. It takes a few hours just to finally fall asleep. 

There is a window above my head, the soft moonlight casting a glow over the room. My shoulders are relaxed, and my body isn't as tense as it was a few nights ago. 

Progress in its finest. 

If I could spend a few more days just like this, maybe I'll actually have a good night's sleep. 

But then, a sudden tightness spreads through my chest, though nothing seems off. 

My breath feels shallow, each inhale a little more strained. Thoughts flit by without making sense, like static filling my mind. 

My muscles tighten, a knot forming in my shoulders. There's no clear reason, but something feels off. 

I feel unsettled, like an impending storm I can't name. The unease lingers, heavy and unexplained. 

What? 

Why do I feel like this now? I was doing just fine. This damn body and this damn situation are making me feel like this. 

It isn't ideal, but I will get through it. Still, something about this time feels different. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. 

It would be of no surprise if the Leaf Ninjas were here to take me away, but why would they risk it? 

Obito has other things to deal with than worrying about my escape from a while ago. And there's no word that I've been in contact with anyone from Konoha, so that theory doesn't add up either. 

That just leaves— 

I froze, caution overtaking my senses as I activated my Sharingan. I scanned every part of the room, looking for any sign of a threat, but there was no one. The feeling, however, never left. It was as though something was lurking just beyond my sight. 

Behind me. 

Without thinking, I whipped around, only to have someone crash through my window and pin me down by my wrists. 

God damnit! 

I twisted my body, desperately trying to break free from the hold on my wrists. I kicked, hoping to land a blow, but they dodged easily, their grip tightening while they sat on my stomach, making it so I won't move. 

Who the hell was it? 

Finally, I forced myself to look up at their face, and my worst fears were realized. 

Itachi. 

Not again, I thought bitterly. Why does this keep happening? Why does he always show up like this? What the hell did he want with me now? 

My heart pounded in my chest as I realized I was caught. Again. I couldn't believe this was happening. 

He was sitting on top of me, his weight forcing me to stay still. He wasn't letting go, and there was no way I could overpower him in this position. 

"I swear to everything wrong in the world, Itachi, if you don't let go of me right now, I'll—" I started, my voice shaking with fury and fear. But he cut me off. 

"Ishi," he said, his voice firm and cutting through my rant. 

"What?" I snapped, completely ready to start fighting like my life was on the line. No, it was. I was ready to fight this man with all I had, I didn't care what the outcome was as long as I didn't go back to Obito. 

Itachi didn't respond, his eyes cold and unreadable. His sharingan glowed ominously in the dim light of the room. 

I responded in kind, keeping my own sharingan activated. I feel very threatened. This is Itachi Uchiha we are talking about. 

Even now, with his weakened state and almost blind vision, he was dangerous. Itachi was dangerous. Not to mention, he had me pinned down, his weight making it impossible to move. 

A terrible situation, one I haven't been in yet. I don't really know how to react. I definitely know what I'm feeling. I've been saying it this whole time, I probably even visibly appear it. 

Fearful. 

I am scared. 

I hated this. The fear inside me began to mix with a hot anger. How many times was I going to go through this? Every time I was so close to freedom, he showed up. 

I couldn't stand it. 

I was so close to returning to the Leaf Village, so close to escaping this nightmare, but now... Itachi was here. I couldn't let him take me back to Obito. I wouldn't survive it. 

Itachi knows the least convenient times to show up, and he always makes my situation worse. I refused to give in, though. I wouldn't back down. 

With a sharp exhale, I activated the eternal mangekyo sharingan. I had to believe mine was stronger. I had to overpower him. 

I wasn't going to let him take me without a fight. 

I could feel its power surge through me, my mind screaming with adrenaline. My eyes locked onto his, and I focused on using my abilities to break free. 

His gaze never faltered; his expression didn't change. If anything, he looked almost bored. The only thing that did was his sharingan, it became the mangekyo. 

"Your sharingan isn't stronger than mine," he said softly, his voice calm and steady. 

The words struck a nerve. As though he was explaining something to a child. I couldn't hide my frustration, so I let out a scoff, my eyes narrowing at the audacity of his tone. 

"But I have the eternal mangekyo sharingan," I shot back, more bratty than I intended, more defiant. 

I needed him to understand that mine was more powerful, that I wasn't as weak as he might think. If mine was really weaker, I wanted an explanation. 

Itachi didn't seem fazed by my words. He merely stared at me, unblinking, as if he were considering something. Then he spoke again, his voice calm and measured. 

"Yes, you do. While I don't. But there's a biological difference. You're half-Uchiha. My father was the clan leader, and your mother..." 

He trailed off, the implication hanging in the air. For a moment, I froze. I didn't expect him to bring her up. 

Also, a biological difference? Now he sounds straight up crazy. But the thing that got me most was what he said about my mother. Or more lack of. 

"Say it," I spat. "Say what she was. You killed her. Might as well just say it." 

You've been with a mask for so long, Itachi, might as well go through with it. Say it to my face, you already killed her in front of me. 

Itachi's expression didn't change, but I saw his eyes narrow slightly, a subtle reaction that suggested he didn't appreciate my words. But I didn't care. 

"It is very rare for someone of your bloodline to awaken the sharingan, even rarer for them to achieve the mangekyo." he continued, his tone unchanging, as if he were lecturing me. 

"But you did." Itachi explained calmly. While it is true, the fact he said it to me didn't make me happy. I knew that. 

A half-Uchiha, someone who wasn't 'pure' enough to wield the power I possessed. The fact that I had attained the mangekyo sharingan, one of the rarest abilities, only made me an outcast in the eyes of many. 

And still, there were those who looked at me as if I didn't deserve it. 

"What does that have to do with this?" I bit back, keeping my voice steady. 

I was going to play dumb for this part. I got what he was saying. He is of superior bloodline and yap yap yap. His psychopathic mask never failed to annoy me. 

Itachi didn't answer right away. Instead, his eyes flicked to the window, his expression unreadable, before he looked back at me, his gaze darkening. Itachi's lips barely curled into a semblance of a smirk, but there was no warmth behind it. 

"Your eternal mangekyo is still weaker than my mangekyo. You will always be weaker than me." 

I frowned deeply, the words sinking in. It wasn't just the insult; it was the truth behind it. His words stung more than I expected. 

He's being rude, but informative. Kisame must be listening. 

Still, please don't insult me this bluntly. I don't care what you say, but doing this while I'm pinned under you is greatly displeasing. I had stopped struggling a while ago, there was no point. 

But that didn't mean I was going to stay obedient. I was waiting for him to tell me, make a move to show that I was going to hate the next hour. 

"You think I'm weaker than you?" My voice was low, dangerous. 

"I know you are," Itachi said, his voice now colder than ever. 

He almost sounded bored with the whole situation, as if my life meant little more than a passing annoyance to him. But he wasn't done. 

"Madara wants you back." I felt a chill run down my spine. The words hit me like a punch to the gut. 

I knew it! 

I had known that's why Itachi was here. 

Madara. No Obito.

That sick bastard. I was so close to escaping, but now I had to face whatever plans Obito had in store for me. I wasn't going to let it happen. 

Not without a fight.

A/n I know y'all wanted more Itachi. Enjoy~