Ch 161

I woke up to the subtle creak of the windowsill and the softest rush of air. At first, I thought it was a dream, some half-formed thing tugging me back into wakefulness. 

Everything felt alright, peaceful, even. The moonlight spilled across the floor in quiet silver patterns, and for a moment, I just lay there, breathing it in, letting the silence hold me.

But when I opened my eyes and turned, the space beside me was empty. 

Cold. 

And there he was. 

Itachi. 

Standing half-out the open window, the night curling around him with shadows. I didn't need to ask where he was going. 

I knew. 

My heart skipped a beat. 

He was leaving... 

...And he wasn't coming back. 

Not to me. Not to this. 

The peace shattered in an instant, replaced by a sinking weight in my chest.

I sat up slowly, the blanket slipping off my shoulders. 

"So... that's it?" My voice was quiet, raw with sleep and disbelief. "You're really going?"

He didn't turn around. His head stayed bowed, his hair falling like a curtain, hiding his face from me. But I saw something. 

His hand, gripping the windowsill, trembling. My heart clenched. That small shake said more than his words ever could. 

"You chose him," I muttered, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "Of course you did." 

There was silence. 

"Did I ever have a chance?" I asked, voice tighter now, almost a whisper. "Was there ever a version of this where you stayed? Where you chose me?" 

Still, he said nothing. The silence cut deeper than any answer could've. He didn't even look back. 

That's when the anger bubbled up. Not hot and explosive, but slow and aching. The kind that simmers under your ribs, the kind that burns all the same. 

"I get it," I said, more to myself than to him. "I was never first. I knew that. But part of me thought maybe, just maybe, this time..." 

His hand trembled again. He finally spoke, but not what I wanted to hear. Just one word, so soft it nearly disappeared into the wind. "...Goodbye." 

And then he was gone. The window creaked shut behind him like the closing of a door I wasn't meant to walk through. Not now. Not ever. I stared at the empty space. The sting reached my eyes. 

But I didn't cry.

I wanted to, but not this time. The bitterness welled up like bile, coating my throat with a taste more painful than tears ever could be. 

A part of me, maybe the cruel, cynical part, knew this was coming. I had seen it in his eyes last night. I had seen it in the way he kissed me like a goodbye. 

So I wasn't just disappointed in him. I was disappointed in myself... for hoping, for believing, for loving someone who had always been halfway gone. 

I threw the blankets off and pushed myself up, heart thudding like thunder in my chest. I climbed out the window barefoot, the cold air biting against my skin as I landed softly on the ground. 

The forest wasn't far. I could feel his chakra still, faint, but there. I ran. When I saw him near the tree line, I didn't hesitate. 

"Itachi!" I called out, voice sharp and breathless. He stopped. Turned slightly. 

I didn't wait. 

I didn't think. 

I just moved. 

My feet barely touched the ground as I ran to him, and before he could turn away again, I closed the distance between us and threw my arms around him. 

My body hit his with more force than I meant, but he didn't stumble, he never did. He stood like stone, even as I buried my face in his chest and wrapped myself around him like I could anchor him here. 

Like I could stop time, stop fate, stop all of it if I just held on tight enough. He smelled like the forest. Like wind and steel and something fading. 

I didn't cry. I wanted to, I could feel it, rising up behind my eyes, pressing against my throat, but I didn't let it spill. Not this time. Not now. I had to be strong. I had to hold it in. 

"I know why you think you have to go," I whispered against him, the words trembling even though I tried to keep my voice steady. 

"But please... just—don't. Not yet." His body tensed under my hands. He didn't speak. 

"You don't have to do this alone," I said, tightening my grip. "You don't. You always think you do, but you don't. I'm here. I've always been here." 

I felt it then, so small I almost missed it. A tremble. Just the faintest shake in his chest. A breath that hitched, just slightly, like maybe, for a moment, he wanted to believe me. 

But then his hands came up, and gently, painfully, began to pry me off of him. "Ishi..." he murmured. His voice was low, quieter than he wanted. "I can't stay." 

I shook my head, refusing to move. My face was still buried in his chest, and I was glad for that, I didn't want to see his eyes right now. 

If I did, I'd break. If I saw that distant sorrow, the kind he always carried, I'd lose the last bit of strength I had left. 

"You can, Itachi," I whispered. "You're choosing not to." His hands paused against my shoulders. Not pushing anymore. Not holding either. 

"Ishi," he said again, more firmly this time. "I can't stay. You know that." 

"I don't care." 

"You do." 

Silence stretched between us, the kind that fills the spaces where hope should be. "I'm not asking you to abandon your path," I said finally. "I'm just asking you to see me. To not walk away like I'm nothing." 

He didn't answer. But his heartbeat, God, I could feel it, it was wild against my cheek. Not calm, not composed. Not cold. He wasn't the unshakable shadow I pretended he was. 

He was just a boy trying to carry too much. And I loved him for it. Even now. Even as he broke my heart. 

He moved again, and this time when his hands touched mine, it wasn't to push me away. It was to hold them. Just for a second. Then he let go.

I felt it, the moment he began to pull away. Not with his hands. Not with his body. But something in him... changed. That quiet withdrawal. The way people leave before they actually go. Like his soul had already turned its back to me. 

"No," I whispered, shaking my head as if that alone could hold him here. "Don't do this." 

I could feel everything at once, rage, grief, betrayal, boiling up so violently inside me I thought it might tear me apart. 

My chest was tight, my throat burned, and my hands clenched into fists against his shirt as I pressed them against his heart. 

"You're doing it again," I said, louder now, my voice cracking. "You're making the decision for everyone. Just like you always do." 

He didn't respond. 

How could he? 

I was right. 

"I get it, Itachi. You take all the pain, all the blame, all the burden like that somehow makes you noble. But what about us? What about me?" 

I hit his chest, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough that I needed him to feel it, to feel me through the numbness he wore like armor. 

"What about the people who love you?" I said, my voice shaking. "Do you think we don't suffer too? You think we just... move on? Heal?" 

Still, he didn't answer. Tears pressed harder behind my eyes, but I forced them back. I would not cry. Not yet. Not until he was truly gone. 

"You saved me, Itachi." My voice dropped to a whisper again. "Do you remember that?" 

His breath caught, almost imperceptibly. 

"I was going to end it. You know I was. That night. The one no one talks about. I was done. I didn't want to keep fighting, I didn't want to keep breathing. And you—" 

My voice broke. 

"You stayed. You didn't fix me. You just stayed. And I got better. Because you were there." 

I finally pulled back enough to look up at him. His eyes weren't cold. They weren't empty. They were filled with something so human, so cruelly human, that it made me want to scream. 

"And now you just expect me to do what? Watch you walk into death and survive it? Again?" My voice rose, uncontrolled. "You think I'm strong enough for that? You think I'll be fine after watching you die by your own brother's hand?" 

He opened his mouth, then stopped. Nothing came out. I stared at him, daring him to speak, to try to justify it. But he couldn't. And I think that hurt more than anything else. 

"Ishi..." he finally said, barely audible. "I'm going to die either way." 

The words landed like stones in my stomach. 

"You can't help me," he added, his voice low and steady, but his eyes betrayed him. They were too soft. Too full of guilt. "Not this time." 

I shook my head violently. "You're wrong. I can help. I just need more time. Please. Let me find a way—" 

"There's no time left," he stated, his voice hollow now. "If Sasuke doesn't kill me... the illness will. I've only got a few days left." 

My breath hitched. The world blurred. I staggered back a half-step like the words had physically struck me. He was dying. Not in the distant, abstract way I'd always feared, but now. Right in front of me. 

I had been bracing for heartbreak. But not like this. Not like this.

I tensed. Every muscle in me pulled taut like a bowstring, like my body refused to hear what my mind already knew. 

But then, without warning, something inside me gave out. I exhaled. And I let go. Not of him. Not of the love. But of the fight I'd been clinging to with shaking hands. Because the truth settled in with cold, precise clarity. He wasn't just dying. He had already let himself go. 

"You gave up," I muttered quietly, the realization stinging more than the words themselves. "You don't want to live." 

His eyes had a glint—pain and guilt—but he didn't argue. Couldn't argue. Because I was right again.

A hollow sound escaped my throat, a laugh. I pushed a hand through my hair like I could shake the disbelief off. 

"God... it's almost pathetic. You looked at me like I was the one breaking apart. Like I needed saving. And you were right, but now I see it." 

I looked up at him, searching for the same brokenness in his face that I remembered seeing in my own just days ago. 

"You were staring into a mirror," I whispered. "That's what this is. That's what it's always been." 

He flinched, he couldn't hide it. I took a step back, arms dropping to my sides, useless. Empty. 

"I get it now," I said, voice softer. "I really do. That feeling... when everything weighs so much you just want it over. When you can't imagine a future with yourself in it." 

I paused, the memories washing over me, nights curled into myself, numbness dragging me under, the moment I almost didn't come back. 

"I was there. I was you." 

I could've helped him. I could've tried. I wanted to. But that's where this ended. Because unlike me, Itachi's not just dying inside. His body is betraying him. The end isn't just emotional, it's literal. 

He won't let me stop it. 

Won't even try. 

I was too late. 

The realization landed gently. No explosion. No screams. Just a cold, creeping understanding that wrapped around my chest and settled in. And what startled me the most, what made my stomach twist in something like shame, was how fast I accepted it. How easily I gave up. 

I didn't want to. God, I didn't. I wanted to scream, beg, tear the world apart. But instead, I stood there and nodded to myself, numb and disgusted. 

Because I understood. 

Because he had done for me what I couldn't do for him. 

Because he had done for me what he couldn't do for himself. 

And now... all that was left was goodbye.

I looked at him, as closely as I could. He was thinner than before. Not just lean, but hollow in places he never used to be. 

His cheekbones were sharper, his collarbone pressing against his shirt like it was trying to break free. 

And his eyes... they were dull. That glint of quiet defiance, that steady, unreadable spark that always made me chase after him, it was gone. 

All I could see now was pain. 

Even standing there, alive and breathing, he looked like a ghost of himself. 

And still, somehow, I loved him. God help me, I loved him. With everything I had left, with everything he had already taken from me. That love didn't fade. And it probably never will. 

I won't let this be the final goodbye. Not even close. I knew it wasn't the end. I refused to believe it was. 

Even if he walked away, even if everything crashed down like he said it would, this moment wouldn't be the last thread we shared. Still, I swallowed the ache and steadied my voice. 

"You were really going to leave without a goodbye kiss?" I asked, half teasing, half pleading. My voice caught in the middle, unsure which way to fall. 

He looked at me then and for a second, I saw the tiniest flicker of something in him. Regret, maybe. Or guilt. Or longing. His eyes lowered. 

"Ishi... that would only make it harder. For both of us." 

I walked right up to him, chin tilted, stubborn as ever. "You don't get to decide how much I hurt. Not anymore. I can't be hurt by you again," I replied, quieter now. "You've already done everything. There's nothing left. You can't go lower." 

His eyes were stormy when he looked at me, tired, wounded, already half gone. Then, in a tone I didn't expect, sharp and bitter and full of self-loathing, he muttered, "Yes, I can go lower. Don't think for a second that I can't." 

It hit me like ice, how sure he was of that. How much he hated himself. 

But then he sighed, and looked away like the weight of his own words were choking him. "Forget about me, Ishi," he said, voice flatter now. Tired. Resigned. 

"Just... forget I was ever anything to you. I'm not good for you. I've never been. I can't give you a good life, I was never meant to. I'm not a good person." 

"You're not a good person?" I repeated, the words sour on my tongue. "Fine. Then you're not. But you're not evil either. You're not beyond redemption. You did what you had to. In that we are similar, I am not any different than—"

"You are a good person," he interrupted harshly, stepping forward with sudden intensity. "Don't say otherwise. Don't you dare speak about yourself like that." 

I blinked, startled by the force in his voice. His anger wasn't at me, it was at everything else. The world. Himself. Maybe even fate. 

But I didn't back down. I stepped closer, right in front of him now, close enough to feel the heat of his breath, the tension in his muscles.

"You always see the good in me," I responded quietly, eyes narrowing just a little. "But never the bad." 

Itachi shook his head, calm and unmoved. "I see both. You're grounded in reality. You're realistic... but still kind. That's rare." 

I crossed my arms, challenging him with a look. "And how would you know that?" 

He sighed softly, like he'd been expecting the question, and when his eyes met mine, they were impossibly sad. 

"Have you ever truly thought of revenge? Against me. Against the people who hurt you. Against the world?" 

I frowned. "Of course I have." 

My voice was sharper than I intended. "I've thought about it more times than I can count." 

He nodded slowly, like he already knew the answer. "But you haven't acted on it. You could have. You've had chances. You could have killed me. Or walked away and let others die in your place. But you didn't." 

I looked away, lips pressed together, my jaw tight. 

"You help," he continued. "You inspire people. Even when you're angry or tired, you still care. You still try. That's what makes you good. You're not swayed by your hatred. That's what makes you strong." 

His voice had softened again, the bitterness replaced by something warm. "You're not perfect, Ishi. No one is. But you fight to keep your heart intact. And that's more than most people can say." 

I swallowed hard, unsure what to say in return. My thoughts were a mess of guilt and longing and aching truths. 

I wanted to argue. Tell him that he didn't really see me. That if he did, he'd know how selfish I really was, how cruel I could be when pushed. 

But I didn't. Because part of me... knew he was right. And the fact he never thought I'd ever hurt him... hurt me more than anything he could've said.

I reached up and wrapped my arms around him, pulling him close before he could run again. I knew I couldn't stop him. 

Not at all. 

His mind was already made up, and the path he'd chosen didn't have room for someone like me. 

But that didn't mean I couldn't have these last few seconds. These final, stolen moments before everything ended. 

"I know you're still going," I whispered against his chest, voice small but steady. "I can't stop you, and I won't beg. But... can I get one last kiss? Just one." 

He froze. I felt the hesitation in every part of his body. His hand tensed against my back, his breath caught against my hair. And for a long second, I thought he'd say no. 

But then, slowly, he shifted, pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. 

And he kissed me. 

Not soft this time. Not gentle. It was nothing like the ones before. It was sudden, like something inside both of us had snapped at once. 

One breath, and then his mouth was on mine, and everything else fell away. There was no buildup, no slow slide into it. Just heat and tension and months, years, of everything unspoken crashing into us all at once. 

It was messy. 

It was wild. 

His lips found mine like he was starving, like he needed to memorize every inch of me before he disappeared for good. I didn't pull away. 

I kissed him back with everything I had left. fingers in his hair, pulling, clutching, holding like I could stop time. Like I could stop him. 

I bit his lip, not gently. I wanted him to feel it. The anger. The ache. The desperation that had lived in me for so long. 

And he gave it right back, teeth scraping, breath hot and ragged as he pressed closer. We kissed like it hurt. Like it was supposed to. 

Our mouths didn't move in rhythm, they crashed, broke apart, found each other again, panting between touches, gasping between moments. 

His tongue brushed mine and I let him in, deeper, needing more, needing everything. I couldn't breathe, but I didn't care. 

I didn't want to breathe if it meant losing this. My hands clutched his cloak, not to keep him away, but to anchor him. 

To me. 

To this. 

Because I knew the second we let go, he was gone. And I wasn't ready. 

He kissed me like a man already dead, like this was the only thing keeping him tethered to the earth. 

When we finally pulled away, we were shaking, panting, lips swollen and stinging. Foreheads pressed together. If this was the end, if this was all we'd get, then we took it like fire.

I kept my eyes on him, narrowing them slightly as I steadied my voice. He was going to leave. I knew it. But I wouldn't let him go without saying what needed to be said. 

"You're going to die," I said flatly. No softness, no comfort. Just the truth between us. "You'll fight Sasuke, and you'll die by his hand. That's what you want, right? For him to see you as the villain, to grow strong enough to defeat you?" 

Itachi didn't answer. His face barely changed, but I saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his shoulders went stiff. I knew I'd hit the mark. I stepped closer, until there was barely space between us. 

"But listen to me," I continued, stepping closer again. "Someone is going to bring you back. I don't know when, but they will. That's not a theory, Itachi. It's the future. And when it happens..." 

I reached up and touched his chest, right over his heart. 

"You don't get to leave me again." 

He drew in a slow breath. 

"You'll have already died for Sasuke," I added, my voice breaking with quiet fury. "So when you come back... you live for me. That's the deal." 

He stood silent, unmoving. But his silence wasn't empty. I felt it pressing down on both of us. He knew I wasn't saying this lightly. He knew I didn't make empty threats, or empty promises. 

"It sounds impossible, I know," I murmured, my hand still over his heart. "But nothing about us was ever normal anyway." 

His hand reached up slowly and tugged something from around his neck. His fingers grazed my collarbone as he unclasped the necklace from his own neck and placed it around mine. 

His necklace. The one he always wore. He was giving it to me. Even in our final moments he wanted to give me gifts. 

"Ishi," he said, voice rough. "Good—" 

I didn't let him finish. I kissed him like it was the end of the world. 

Our lips were still tangled when I felt him try to speak, his breath catching against mine, that word forming again on his tongue—goodbye. 

I pulled back just enough to whisper, "Don't." 

His forehead pressed to mine, eyes closed like it hurt to hear me. "This isn't goodbye," I said, voice shaking but sure. "You don't get to say that. Not to me." 

The kiss had been everything, love, grief, fire, desperation, and I knew, deep down, it was his goodbye. But I refused to let it be mine. 

So when I let go, when I allowed him to leave, he took it. Before I could say anything else, he turned and ran. Into the trees, into the night, toward death and destiny. I didn't chase him.

A moment later, Kisame stepped out from behind a nearby tree. I didn't flinch. I didn't look away. 

He had seen everything. Of course he had. 

I gave him a small nod, not a word spoken between us. He returned it in kind before turning to follow after Itachi. 

And then it was just me. 

Standing there. 

Alone.

A/n 4000 words! You have no idea how many times I rewrote this. I was thinking about it, I wanted Itachi to stay with her, to choose her. But when I really thought about it, it wouldn't happen. He always chose Sasuke, and in that sense, death, so why would this time be different. Because of Ishi? I thought so too, but he already thinks he's going to die any day now, so why would he stay with her? To break her heart in a few days when she sees him die? No, he won't do that. Anyways, as you see: Ishi has a plan. She always does. Enjoy~