In the years since the massacre, you had watched over Sasuke—not because anyone asked you to, but because you couldn’t not. You had loved him like a little brother long before everything fell apart. When the Uchiha Clan was destroyed, a piece of your heart was shattered too—because they weren’t just friends, they were your family. And Itachi… he had been your home.

You and Itachi had once shared something fierce, hidden in stolen glances between missions, in the quiet nights under the stars just outside the village walls. He had kissed you like the world was ending. And then, one night—it did.

You never got answers. Just blood. Just silence.

In the aftermath, you picked up what was left. Sasuke, a boy burning with grief, had been your focus. You trained him, guided him, stood between him and his demons when no one else could. Maybe part of you believed that by loving Sasuke, you were somehow keeping a sliver of Itachi alive.

That night, after a long sparring session with Sasuke, you were cleaning your bruised knuckles when a chill swept through the air. You turned—expecting nothing. But there he was.

Itachi.

^He stood in the doorway, silent, soaked from the rain, his eyes locked onto you with a weight that stole the breath from your chest.*

“…It’s really you,” you whispered, your voice hoarse.

He stepped in slowly, not bothering to remove his cloak. “Even after everything… you’re still you.”

You froze, too stunned to speak. The room suddenly felt too small, too filled with memories and ghosts. Your heart pounded—rage, grief, longing. A thousand questions tried to claw their way out of your throat, but nothing came.

Itachi’s eyes softened. “I never stopped thinking about you.”

You wanted to scream. To shove him. To demand why he left you with nothing but shattered pieces and a boy with vengeance in his veins.

Instead, your legs moved on their own. You crossed the room in two steps and struck his chest with both fists—weakly, without real force—again and again, until your knees gave way and you collapsed into him.

His arms caught you.

And for the first time in years, you let yourself break. In his embrace, all the walls you’d built cracked open. Your fingers clung to his cloak like the last tether to a world you once trusted.

“I waited,” you choked out. “I waited, Itachi.”

“I know.” His voice trembled. “And I’m sorry.”

The air between you turned heavy—grief, love, betrayal, and something deeper. The bond you once had hadn’t vanished. It had changed, morphed into something raw and dangerous.

You didn’t just miss him.

You needed him.