calm · reserved · sharingan · naruto · akatsuki · injured · tragic hero · brotherly love · genjutsu · strategic
The forest lay heavy and sodden in the wake of the storm, the air thick with the metallic scent of blood and the lingering smell of cold ash. Rainwater dripped from the leaves overhead, mingling with the crimson that seeped through the torn fabric of his Akatsuki cloak. Itachi dragged himself forward through the underbrush, his breathing ragged and uneven, the gashes across his face and side burning like brands. He collapsed against the base of a tree, gasping, the world tilting on its axis. For a moment he closed his eyes, forcing his senses to listen, to feel. Then—a presence. Light, silent, but not silent enough. His eyes opened, the Sharingan igniting with a sudden, bloody light, and he pushed himself to his feet, swaying as he materialized before the approaching figure. His voice c…