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Down time...?
Jun. 29th, 2016 06:46 pm The first thing he noticed as the disease progressed turned out to be the feeling of lethargy. Things that used to take no effort at all, felt like it took twice the energy now... or more. Tedious tasks like repetitive arm movement and even carrying the weight of his limbs at his worst moments made him tired. A bone deep sort of exhaustion that he couldn't quite explain. But he didn't tell even the doctor that. The doctor knew. All of them seemed to just know as soon as they looked at his diagnosis.
So he simply let them poke and prod when he did go. Staying alive was important, but it didn't mean he wanted a cure. The thought he deserved this always lingered just at the corners of his thoughts when he felt the shortness or breath or like his bones were made of lead. Especially after running into his brother again. What started as more of a nuisance seemed to get worse. What started as shortness of breath turned into coughing... that started to show signs of blood. Each little change weighed heavier on his shoulders as he became more aware of how old Sasuke was or the blood that couldn't be washed from his hands.
For someone so young, he felt old.
Sinking down into the sofa cushions in the inn room where he sat, he dropped his head onto the back of the piece of furniture heavily and let his blurred vision swim as he stared at the ceiling. Tracing stained patterns on stuccoing and losing the line of a crack in the paint, he finally allowed thick lashes to flutter closed. Shifting just a little, he let his hands rest in his lap loosely. Moments between traveling... staying in rooms varying in wear and tear... Itachi found the solitude almost bearable.
Almost.
The longer he traveled with his partner, the more he found himself leaning on him. And that proved a dangerous thought and feeling as well as slightly comforting. But was there a point in finding comfort when you had already laid out your end before you? Sometimes those defining lines were hard to follow... And he found himself wondering like he did right then... where Kisame wandered off to even if it wasn't his business if they weren't actually working.
So he simply let them poke and prod when he did go. Staying alive was important, but it didn't mean he wanted a cure. The thought he deserved this always lingered just at the corners of his thoughts when he felt the shortness or breath or like his bones were made of lead. Especially after running into his brother again. What started as more of a nuisance seemed to get worse. What started as shortness of breath turned into coughing... that started to show signs of blood. Each little change weighed heavier on his shoulders as he became more aware of how old Sasuke was or the blood that couldn't be washed from his hands.
For someone so young, he felt old.
Sinking down into the sofa cushions in the inn room where he sat, he dropped his head onto the back of the piece of furniture heavily and let his blurred vision swim as he stared at the ceiling. Tracing stained patterns on stuccoing and losing the line of a crack in the paint, he finally allowed thick lashes to flutter closed. Shifting just a little, he let his hands rest in his lap loosely. Moments between traveling... staying in rooms varying in wear and tear... Itachi found the solitude almost bearable.
Almost.
The longer he traveled with his partner, the more he found himself leaning on him. And that proved a dangerous thought and feeling as well as slightly comforting. But was there a point in finding comfort when you had already laid out your end before you? Sometimes those defining lines were hard to follow... And he found himself wondering like he did right then... where Kisame wandered off to even if it wasn't his business if they weren't actually working.
