piratejournal | [written]

[It takes another moment before the knowledge filters in again about the cold, and the cure. He should have thought about it and remembered, Sasuke chastises himself; some protection he provides if he's not even seeing to basic needs.

Still. He takes a the few steps there are left between them and then he's at a loss again. Not knowing the next movement of others is unusual enough; not knowing his own is -- awkwardly, he reaches out and takes the outstretched hands, first, folding them into his own.

There was a time he had nearly no compunctions about leaping onto his brother for hugs. Now he's thoroughly ungraceful in a way no shinobi should be, even though -- yes, there's warmth from the touch of hands already.]

... so it's true. About the cold.

So I'd heard.

[Itachi won't pull his brother into his arms unless he wants it. The awkwardness is justified.

Even the warmth just on his hands is relieving. He's already beginning to be able to feel his fingers again, and he gives Sasuke's hands a light squeeze in appreciation.

It's an odd curse to have bestowed on them, almost as if someone was trying to get all the crews to get cozy together. It makes him feel as if they're being watched.]

[It's as bizarre as it is a relief to feel the tips of his fingers again, and it seems it's working for Itachi as well -- the light squeeze is indication enough. The request for a hug makes sense, but how long would contact need to be maintained for it to work? Sasuke hasn't seen enough detail to be able to hazard a guess.

For now he shifts his grip so that they're holding each other's wrists, more surface area without -- hugging.]

I know of no power that could do this. [The irritation is as genuine as the urge to distract from the awkwardness of the forced contact.] It's as if our bodies don't belong to us.

Perhaps they are borrowed vessels...

[It's said almost idly, his focus turned more to the contact with his brother than anything else. Some part of him finds Sasuke's hesitation cute, but the reasons for it are far from that.]

Our movements are our own, at least. Whatever brought us here maintains some sort of control over us otherwise.

[The shaking has subsided, this little bit of warmth helping him to regain his ability to keep it in check.]

[Itachi says it idly, but Sasuke's grip tenses immediately when the suggestion is voiced -- he nearly lets go to reach for the back of his own neck, check for a buried kunai with its tag sunk into skin. But he's not dead and Kabuto is, and there is simply no way Orochimaru has an illusion this complex within his powers. And Itachi is ... he's never heard of Edo Tensei being able to bring back a person from another time.

No jutsu at all should be able to do that. He shakes off the thought: the only real threat is the possibility that this is the true demented plan of the Moon's Eye. Or is it that this is real, with no apparent path to return?]

If they're bringing people with powers unknown to this world, it wouldn't make sense to control our bodies that much. They wouldn't be able to see and assess our abilities.

That's assuming that our powers are actually unknown to the ones who've brought us. Just because the citizens of this place know very little, it doesn't mean that the same goes for others.

[This isn't the sort of conversation he'd wanted to have, but he'll address the issue all the same. It's important, and it's clearly weighing heavily on Sasuke's mind right now.

Whatever power brought them here is beyond them, that much is clear. How much beyond them it is, less so.]

But this... this feels more like we're being toyed with. For all we know, it could be a natural curse of this world that we're unaware of, but that doesn't seem as likely.

[It's a sobering thought, but for all that the man they'd questioned had clearly known nothing about their abilities, he'd been a low-level grunt after all, officer or not. And even if the military knows nothing, there's still the matter of the entity that supposedly brought them all here in the first place.]

I've never heard of a place with natural curses. [But, voice dry, he adds:] What I've heard of doesn't count for much, here.

[But if they're not being toyed with -- which he can't understand the purpose of -- then ...] What if this is meant to be some sort of test? We're supposed to gather the pieces of this gem -- perhaps we're being tested to see if we're strong enough?

If we weren't already considered strong enough, then we should not have been brought in the first place. Though if this is a trial that will be set before us in order to retrieve the gem, then I could see how this might be necessary.

At the same time, we could be suffering for no reason at all when the solution has been set before us.

[He glance falls back down to their arms, his fingers clasped around his brother's, and his expression becomes one of mild displeasure. His grip loosens.]

If you would rather not do this, I understand. I will abstain from physical contact also.

Even if there is a solution and this isn't caused by someone, this kind of cold isn't natural -- no physical effects, but everyone feels like they're freezing? It --

[But he sees the twist in Itachi's face and feels the way his grip loosens, and the words make his hands flinch with the truth of it: he doesn't want to, but he's not a child who won't be made to clean his room when he'd rather tail his brother out to the training fields. Itachi's right; there is a solution, but --]

No -- [But the denial bursts out, inelegant. And honest, in its unplanned intensity.]

I don't want you to suffer needlessly. [He'd said he'd carry them forward, and for all that this is a little thing in the grand scheme of things, it's still part of the whole.] I just ...

I'm not used to touching people outside of a fight. [It's a weird thing to admit, but it's true.] I'll hug you. If you want.

[Itachi isn't much for touching either, but unlike Sasuke he'd had the opportunity to up until very recently. Sasuke had a family that loved him, a mother that would have hugged him whenever he wished for it, and his older brother had taken that away from him. This thought causes Itachi's heart to ache, and he closes his eyes.]

I'm sorry.

[It's unbidden, and the last thing Sasuke is looking for right now, but there it is all the same.]

I shouldn't have asked this of you. I thought... perhaps it would help you also.

[It's a long moment before Sasuke works out the connection between his own words and the apology -- he's become so accustomed to it, guarding against nearness and touch, a certain awareness of the threat inherent in closeness that borders on paranoia. He's lived alone and wanted by his own choice for long enough that the memory of being held has long faded out of clarity.

He wouldn't relive it for most. But this is his brother, and Itachi is apologizing for it, which makes these past weeks and the various faces of Itachi that he's seen, his own world to this one, the most he's ever heard I'm sorry from his brother.

He lets go of Itachi's hands and reaches out, gingerly pulling him closer. In its own weird way it helps that he's taller, here; it's somehow easier to be aware that this is physically, viscerally different from the reality he knows.]

No, you're right. It's impractical not to use a solution when there is one.

[When Sasuke pulls him close, Itachi goes along with it easily, wrapping his arms around the waist of the other. Immediately a comfortable warmth begins to seep through his clothing to engulf his entire body.

Such a cruel curse this is.

His hands clench the back of his brother's shirt and he rests his head against his shoulder. He can only assume that the same feeling is being shared with Sasuke as well. If it isn't, he doesn't know what else they'd need to do.]

...Thank you.

It's nothing.

[Though it is, a voluntary closeness to another person he knows is dangerous. This isn't like shoving Karin off if she clutches too long; there's no combat in it. And more than that -- for all that this is different, he can tell this is his brother.

Itachi still smells like home. It's maybe the weirdest memory of all, but there it is: possibly the detergent Mikoto used, maybe, still lingering under the salt-smell everything takes on at sea. His hands stay tense, uncertain, but his voice is nearly wistful under its habitual terseness.]

I used to bother you all the time with childish things like this.

I didn't mind it. Not really.

[Itachi's words are quiet, barely above a whisper. This isn't what he'd been aiming for when he sought his brother out, but he should have seen it coming. How could he pull him into an embrace without being overcome by memories and regret?]

I spent so much time doing what I thought I needed to do in order to keep you safe that I didn't spend enough of it with you.

[And that was just as important, wasn't it? If not more so.]

[He doesn't expect the sudden pang at those words, a surprised wrench of something he is grateful to be able to hide over Itachi's shoulder. It's something seven years old and eternally looking up and ahead for Itachi's shadow, a perfect faith both in the strength of his brother and the question of his own ability to ever be equal enough to be worth the attention he demanded.]

I was just your kid brother. There were bigger things to catch your attention.

[He'd been the child Itachi had treated him as -- but that had been the expectation to meet, and it's Sasuke now, seventeen and educated early in bloodshed, late in truth, who adds:]

I could have shared your burden, brother.

Maybe... Maybe you could have.

[And there are those tears, welling up again where they shouldn't. When he should be beyond that. But the wounds are just too fresh still.]

Maybe that's where I went wrong.

[No hitch to his breath. No sobs to wrack him. He's a ninja, above all, and he isn't allowed to break down again. Not over this, and not here.

There are just too many feelings between them, and an Uchiha always learns to shove those away.]

[He forgets, sometimes -- often -- that the massacre is fresh for Itachi, a new memory instead of something aged over with Mangekyou nightmares and time. It's probably not fair to say these things to Itachi now, maybe not fair ever given every mistake Sasuke has run into full-tilt, but ... I'm your little brother, Sasuke had said, watching Itachi sacrifice himself for the village that denied him yet again.

Whatever he'd been meant to do, whatever his brother had hoped, he hadn't done it.]

... you weren't the only one responsible. [It's a small comfort, maybe. Tentatively, he flattens a hand out over Itachi's back until the hold is something closer to an actual hug.]

We were part of a long pattern of secrets and hatred. The village misled you. Our clan was too arrogant.

[His voice is almost wistful:] We fought side by side in the end, though.

[Itachi doesn't know all the details surrounding his death, only what he's been told, so this confuses him a little. He lifts his head just slightly, eyes obviously wet but expression baffled.]

... I thought you said that you'd killed me?

[What part of that had involved them working together? Sure, Sasuke had mentioned some other events that followed, but one didn't go much beyond death.

At least not in most cases.]

[... and that's a complicated thing to explain, and he forgets too that what happened after Itachi's death is something halfway insane and definitely difficult to make sound like anything other than impossible. It's clear in Itachi's expression, as much as the unaccustomed and unexpected emotion there, and Sasuke fumbles awkwardly for an explanation --]

I did, but it's complicated. It'd take a long time to ...

[... though, for the first time he can ever remember, time is something he has with his brother. The revelation is sudden, his words trailing off as he blinks through it -- every day of their lives in their own worlds compressed by a hundred things to do and a hundred obligations to make, but here there is just the drag of days across the open ocean.

He leans back, then down enough so that they are at eye level, voice serious.]

There's a lot I can tell you, brother. But do you really want to know your future?

[Silence. Itachi's face falls back into something neutral again, his gaze sitting somewhere past his brother's shoulder. It would be so easy, wouldn't it? Just to have Sasuke tell him everything that happens so that he can prepare himself for what he might be able to change.

But he still can't decide if this is the right thing to do, and the best time to make this decision wouldn't be when he's this unsettled.]

... Allow me to regain control of my heart before I answer that.

[He wants to just say yes so badly.]

For now, being here next to you is enough.

[Sasuke can't imagine it himself, to have the opportunity and the dread of knowing his own future -- whether it held success or failure. The latter would mean no option other than to fight against it, but was it truly possible to prevent the future? No -- it had to be; he had to believe in the possibility that cycles could be broken, patterns could be made anew.

His own future depended on that; and there was a strange thought to have, the notion that he had to believe something rather than simply putting one foot in front of another and doggedly forging forward on the path.]

Alright -- [Or he begins to say it, but Itachi's next words startle him into silence, a sentiment he'd entertained himself for just a breath's worth of disbelief before reality sunk in.

There's a long moment before he can find words again, expression conflicted, but his mouth is tilted at one corner into a crooked, complicated smile at the end.]

Yeah. We don't make a bad team.

[A team... He'd never been much of a team player, even when he'd had one. Even when he'd wanted to help as many people as possible in the long run. The fewer people he'd had to back him up, the fewer he'd have to worry about being harmed for associating with him.

But of anyone, he should be able to work well with his brother...

His fists clench more tightly into Sasuke's clothes, and a light shudder runs through him only once.]

...We should stay with each other tonight, so that we can sleep through the chill.

[The memories dredged up here have been difficult and, in many ways, painful, but they are also somewhat useful -- he can feel Itachi's hands tensing further and finally remembers the way Mikoto used to give hugs, warm with comfort, undemanding, the smell of the kitchen and shinobi steel combined into her apron. There is still hesitation in his hands, but he pats Itachi's back a few times, tries to lose some of the tension in his own body.

The suggestion makes sense, though he has to eye the pile of blankets he's already made and the swinging hammock with some dubiousness.]

We can set up some kind of barrier so the movement of the ship doesn't roll us everywhere.

[A nod at that. Two of them wouldn't be able to occupy one hammock very well, and the ship rocking was definitely an issue.

It feels childish to ask, but he wants his brother to be able to sleep without freezing more than he wants to avoid it himself. If the other is willing to go along with it, it will be good for both of them.]

However I can be of help, I will.

[It's going to be as weird a night as he's ever spent, and he can't foresee himself actually sleeping through much of it with Itachi's chakra so close, but at least neither of them need to be freezing. He can say with certainty that he can't remember the last time he's shared space quite so closely, and the mechanics of it on a ship are going to be awkward already.

He glances around again and finally settles on a chest in the corner of the room. It's empty at the moment, Sasuke preferring to keep his very light complement of weapons on him, but it's solid wood and heavy enough.]

I'll move that over if you set up the blankets by a wall.

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