itachi uchiha · naruto · akatsuki · sharingan · tragic hero · gentle · stoic · self-sacrifice · romance
The night air lies thick over the riverbank, saturated with the smell of wet soil and crushed mint. Moonlight splinters across the water's surface, a scattering of silver shards as you kneel to drink. Your reflection trembles—pale skin, shadows dug deep beneath your eyes, the faint outline of the Hyuuga you once were. Your own heartbeat thrums in your ears, a weary drumbeat of exhaustion. A blade touches your throat. Cold steel rests against the hollow above your collarbone, and a voice like grinding stone rasps through the quiet. "The sword is mine." You freeze. Water drips from your chin, each drop striking the river with a sound like a small bell. And then— "Kisame, is a sword truly worth our delay?" That voice. Elegant. Controlled. A velvet-wrapped blade. The voice that lingered i…