“May not master – ” What!? [ he balks obstinately. ] Dude, no way! I’ve got to get this down now.
[ The idea that he’s been mispronouncing Sasuke’s names all this time is still so mortifying that he can barely stand to think about it. But even more so than that, Stiles wants Sasuke to be able to hear his name spoken correctly and with confidence from a friend. This can’t wait. ]
I brought you leeks! That’s gotta earn me like, at least an hour of practice with you.
[In what world does this exchange rate exist. Itachi looks moderately uncomfortable, shoulders a bit more tight, unprepared to devote so much time to this particular task. Yet it's also painfully familiar—how many times had he stayed in the training field well past the mark of dusk, grinding in a specific technique or maneuver, determined to perfect it before the day ended?
He lets out a short breath.] I don't think you require me for that. Practice with Sasuke.
Oh my god. You are not so busy that you can’t spare an hour helping out your little brother’s friend practice his damn name as a surprise.
[ Stiles knows from experience not to push physical contact on Sasuke. Assuming that Itachi will feel the same way, he restrains himself from poking the man in the chest with an accusatory finger. ]
I was under the impression your request to meet here was important. [I.e. specifically related to Sasuke.] That isn't the case. Learning to have the discipline to guide yourself is more valuable.
[ Okay, Stiles. Deep breaths. If Madonna, Justin Timberlake, and Timbaland can save the world in four minutes, you can learn how to pronounce your friend’s name in five times that. ]
Argh, fine. I’m keeping half the leeks though!
[ – to build an effigy to Itachi with, so he can strangle it later. ]
[Stone-faced in light of that open enthusiasm, Itachi doesn't outwardly react. He can't remember the last time feeling this exhausted after twenty minutes in an activity that did not involve chakra.]
Decent. I imagine Sasuke will approve.
[He immediately turns, going for the bench where the bag has remained, and extracts its contents. The leeks are sorted neatly in half—with the tip of the kunai he's been holding this whole time, don't @ me—then he collects his portion.]
[Itachi goes still, leek bundle in hand. He begins the process of putting them back... then stops, again, and stares blankly down at the bag for a moment. He glances up, finally.]
I was planning to return these to the room I was provided by the Coven. [Maybe wash them, wrap them in cool cloth, leave them out to dry. Proper vegetable care.] After that, continue my research and training.
Why?
[He doesn't like sharing his plans, but it hasn't occurred to him Stiles intends to follow.]
[ Pausing, he considers this. It’s a genuine surprise to hear that Itachi isn’t staying with Sasuke, given the emotional intensity of their reunion. Maybe it’s a shinobi thing – privacy? Except Stiles knows from snooping now that Sasuke has a roommate (though he hasn’t had a chance to ID the man yet). Weird. ]
What are you researching? [ comes the inquiry of amiable curiosity as Stiles ignores the question. ] I’d ask about the training, but I can take a guess. Oh – did you seriously start training to become a shinobi when you were six too?
[ All said while he draws even with Itachi. Yes. You are stuck with him. This isn’t the afterlife. This is hell. ]
[When Stiles keeps pace, the realization cements itself. They're not parting ways. The persistence causes Itachi to frown, though it's as subtle as every other expression on his face. Pure hell... at least Jonas knows how to take a hint.]
The Cwyld, as well as a witch's classes of magic. [Juggling multiple topics at once is how he keeps busy. These two just happen to be at the front of his attention, at the moment.
That second question has a more reluctant answer, causing him to reach back into memory, into years now a blur of the past.] No. [...] I was four. Did Sasuke tell you this?
[If he had chakra it would be near effortless to shake Stiles somewhere along the way. As they walk, he watches their surroundings, as if still considering this an option.]
[ Oh, Itachi. You sweet summer child. It’s even worse than that: Stiles will recognize the hint, then choose to completely disregard it anyway. Good luck shaking him. He’s like a cockroach. ]
No, I heard it from a magical conch shell that sells shinobi secrets every Wednesday. [ The sarcasm is an attempt to mask just how truly disturbed he is by this information. ] Yes, Sasuke told me.
[ He can’t even remember what he was doing as a four year old. Probably failing to color inside the lines, still. Jesus Christ. ]
We’ll come back to the Cwyld later. [ There will be a later, believe you that. ] I get different cultures have different expectations, but do you have any idea how fucked up your world sounds? In America, we can’t enlist in the military until we’re seventeen with parental consent – and there are millions of people who would argue even that’s way too young. I mean, at four… That’s like brainwashing.
[ Which, admittedly, probably isn’t the smartest thing to say to someone who has hypothetically been brainwashed. ]
[How much has Sasuke shared with those two? While it isn't his place to make demands of his younger brother, and Sasuke's life is his own, he does wonder whether this extends to a lack of precaution in general. It occurs to Itachi he should trust his younger brother's decision making... that, however, is still too novel to consider. He can't help feeling as though Sasuke himself is an entirely different person. New and unknown, even inside the familiarity.
Anyway, after having those complex thoughts, Itachi responds.]
America. Is this different from Oregon? [Evidence he's paying attention, even when sometimes talking to him may feel like speaking into a black box...] Sasuke mentioned most here come from the planet called 'Earth'.
[Itachi stops at the next corner outside the park, silent for a moment as he decides which most efficient route to take back.]
I chose to begin training myself earlier than most shinobi. That was my decision. The age of a shinobi matters less than their level of skill, although the average to enroll at the Academy is around eight. [Common enough knowledge.] Do children choose their interests and careers so much later in America?
Oregon, where Jonas is from, is a state in America. I live in a different state, called California. [ All said with the air of someone who has had to explain this many times before. ] America is a country on Earth. And yeah, a lot of the Mirrorbound came from different versions of Earth. Like, it’s the same planet with the same geography, but sometimes the history is different.
[ Through this explanation, Stiles may seem casually unconcerned with where they’re headed. In reality, he’s trying to be discreet in both observing Itachi and keeping track of their location. ]
Anyways. Unless you’re some kind of freaky, super evolved human – [ the most offensively skeptical look ever ] – that’s bullshit. No kid that young independently decides to train themselves to become a future merc and assassin. [ His tone is firm, unwilling to even consider otherwise on the topic. ] In America, kids go through all sorts of phases. For example, I wanted to be a dinosaur when I was little. Then a submarine. Then a magician. Then a pilot. Then a racecar driver. And so on. Usually, we aren’t expected to settle on a career until at least we finish college at twenty-two. So, you can see why the idea of a four year old committing to being a shinobi is kinda ridiculous.
[Filing all that away as useful information to know. Fortunately, he only needs to hear it once.]
Comparing your experience to my own would not be truly objective. You and I are different, and so are the places we have left behind. Those differences feel more stark because they are hard to imagine. Just as you struggle to understand what it means to be a shinobi, I cannot understand what it's like to wish to become a 'pilot' or 'submarine'.
[I can't believe I just wrote that.]
I was influenced by outside factors [that sure is Trauma with a capital T], as well as my own innate ability. Not everyone could have committed themselves as young as I did, nor should they try to.
[ After repeated conversations with Sasuke on the topic, this is evolving into a hot button for Stiles. He shoves his hands aggressively into the pocket of his sweatshirt, hoping to conceal the frustrated flex of fingers that desperately want to articulate his point. This is such a stupid debate, and yet he can’t help but rise to the challenge – infuriated at the inhumane manner in which the Uchiha children were raised. ]
Okay. Okay. Maybe I need to back up. So, my “super evolved human” comment? Yeah. There’s a reason that would possibly be an exception. It has to do with the state of brain development in kids. Here’s the bottom line: Child soldiers are statistically more likely to develop psychological and behavioral problems later in life because of the bullshit they were put through at an age where their brains were still developing!
[ Stiles snorts, one hand fished out of the pocket to lightly smack his own forehead. ]
Oh, but of course that wouldn’t be an issue for you or Sasuke. We’re different! Our worlds are different. I mean, it’s not like either of you show any signs of repression, social withdrawal, or trauma! Thank god for that.
[The conversation is rapidly snowballing into an argument, and he senses this specific topic has triggered a nerve somewhere in Stiles. Itachi splits half of his attention on listening to that explanation as he navigates. At the next corner, he appears to wait another moment, make a decision, then turn left. Now they're headed into the Aristocratic rather than toward the Haven district.
Sorry, Stiles, you're not coming home with him.]
Whether it is an issue or not, the truth that our worlds are different does not change. You fail to account for the fact that Sasuke and I could not have become anything else but shinobi. While there are other trades available to those who wish to pursue them, such as those who aren't capable of bearing the burden of a shinobi, both of us still chose this path. [They carry responsibility. They are Uchiha, if only in blood alone.] It's likely we would not have survived to adulthood if we had taken another. To behave as you expect, we would have needed to be born into your world, rather than our own.
[Something continues to needle Itachi even as he speaks. Stiles isn't wrong. He recognizes the life of ruin he's subjected himself to, but if it means thousands more could go on living normal lives, then it was worth it.]
It seems you've discussed this at length with Sasuke.
[ That pause doesn’t go unnoticed, Frowning, Stiles gazes in the direction of the Haven district with a long look. Itachi definitely mentioned a “room provided by the Coven” and all Coven-afford housing is located in the Haven district. Because he sincerely doubts that the Witch plans on taking him along to run errands, Stiles assumes he’s going to be ditched at some point. Well, he had to figuratively twist Sasuke’s arm to find out where the Vampire lives – it’s not that surprising Itachi is likewise as secretive.
A new item is added to his mental To Do List: Find out where Uchiha Itachi stays. ]
Not really, [ he disagrees, a little sourly. The conversation is leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. ] It’s come up once or twice, I guess.
Okay, so. [ You didn’t expect him to give up that easily, did you? ] None of this is meant as a criticism about either of you. Just…for the record. You were kids. And kids are meant to be protected by their guardians. Your parents are to blame.
[ It’s a bold accusation to make. Family is always a sensitive topic for people, including Stiles himself. But he doesn’t gentle his judgment; for all his father’s flaws, Noah Stilinski never forced him to grow up faster than he was ready to. ]
[Ironically, a new item is also added to Itachi's mental To Do List: never reveal where he stays to Stiles.
He's quiet in the wake of that proclamation. A long moment passes this way, wherein Itachi remains focused on their direction, his eventual destination beginning to loom into sight. It isn't easy to miss. Colorful brickwork and tall spires jutting like teeth into the sky, Undermael College is huge and public, the ideal location to shed a persistent burr. And also potentially get some independent research done.]
Your criticism is meaningless. [Really, Stiles? You're bringing up their parents? Thin ice, buddy.] It cannot change the past. Nor should you attempt to place blame in a situation you hardly understand.
[This said in the sharpest tone he's used yet. Shutting that topic down.]
[ Both the building and that warning tone are disregarded. Expression tight with suppressed frustration, Stiles continues to assert his opinion where it isn’t wanted. ]
Okay, then explain the situation to me! I’m dying to hear it. But I bet you probably think it’s none of my damn business, right? As if one of my closest friends isn’t the product of that fucked-up world and its insane, unrealistic expectations of kids. As if he isn’t still carrying the weight of that lifestyle on his shoulders – to the point where he hates being touched and doesn’t even feel like he has the right to talk about his own family. It’s all “meaningless.” Why? Because you’re dead?
[ Darting ahead, Stiles circles around to the front of Itachi in order to stop the man from walking. ]
Yeah, I can put two and two together. [ These days, it’s all he can do, it feels. ] You’re dead in that world. So what. Sasuke isn’t – and you’re both here now. It’s not meaningless. Not when you can make a difference.
[ Stiles, mouth twisted with cold anger, gets right in Itachi’s face. ]
[There are several pieces of this reaction that become immediately obvious: the vibrant anger, a hot flame of emotion fanned higher with admonishment; the language and crude roughness carried throughout; the intelligence; and the verbiage within one of my closest friends. Fragments snapped together to paint a clearer picture, even if it is one which Itachi himself stands apart from, trapped in non-understanding. The demand is earnest and misguided. It doesn't know what it asks of him, because it doesn't know what it asks.
Stiles is in his face, seething, their eye level matched. The area surrounding them is not vacant; students who have risen early are in transit to their destinations, throwing curious glances as they pass.
Were he capable of it, Itachi would have vanished in a ploy of jutsu and black-winged birds. Here, there is no instant escape. All he has are words and reason.]
Enough. [Calm, quiet, a low and dragging tone of steely composure.] This subject has driven you to react emotionally. It would be best if you left, Stiles. I will not entertain the conversation further past this point.
[An appeal to his emotion. Sasuke, like weak threads pulling at the sewn knots of everything he is. Stiles can't know that. Konoha is safe, Sasuke is alive. Nothing else has ever mattered.]
Choose your words carefully in a public place.
[Then, gracefully, he makes to sidestep around Stiles and continue on the path.]
Edited (patented julia edit coming in hot) 2020-04-13 04:34 (UTC)
[ Eyes narrowed dangerously, he watches as the man steps around him to continue walking toward the school – seemingly composed despite the difficult subject matter. Stiles is reminded of their first meeting in the dream, of the uncanny calm and cool expression that met the accusing implications behind his question of, “Or is there another brother who practices familicide?” So far, the most emotion that he’s heard from Itachi was in response to the comment on shinobi culture. Or maybe Stiles misunderstood; maybe it was in response to him blaming the Uchiha parents. The same parents that this guy apparently killed, according to Sasuke. What the hell.
Stiles shakes his head, forever at a loss to understand the two brothers. Painstakingly aware of the growing physical distance separating him from Itachi now, he allows himself fifteen seconds to chill out before chasing after the man. ]
So, since you’re obviously not taking the leeks back to your place like you said, [ he begins, tone a little terse after the argument, but otherwise conversational, ] I’m guessing you plan on research?
[The look he turns on Stiles is chilly, a clear question of Why are you still here? Now to begin the gradual transition of tolerating the company to outright snubbing it. Itachi's pace doesn't change or yield, walking a direct line for the library ahead, tall stately doors held open by another passing student.
And he doesn't answer Stiles. It should be obvious, in any case, so why should he encourage conversation? Time to test that unstoppable force against this immovable object. Inside, if Stiles is inclined to follow, the air is cool and carries that musty, papery scent universal to a location housing endless rows of tomes and scrolls and books.
If he ignores Stiles long enough, maybe he'll give up. All that evident energy must lend quick to boredom.]
[ Stiles does indeed continue to follow Itachi, offering a brief thanks to the student in response to the doors held ajar. Though his curiosity flares up as they enter the building, he resolutely keeps his gaze pinned to the Witch’s back. Judging from what he gleaned during the shared dream, Itachi is the slippery type who’ll take off the moment Stiles looks away. With that in mind, he rolls up his sleeves to expose the trichobothria to the open air; the sooner he adjusts to the minimal vibrations that Itachi creates, the better chance he’ll have at tracking him. ]
I’m just going to remind you that I’m friends with your brother. [ His sneakers plod along so loudly in comparison to Itachi’s own footsteps. ] Who, by the way, is like a cactus in terms of personality. Normally I’d say something like, “no offense.” But, honestly? Full offense.
[ Where is this going, Stiles? ]
My point is… Do you really think you can freeze me out that easily? You’re gonna learn real fast that I can talk enough for two people, buddy.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ The idea that he’s been mispronouncing Sasuke’s names all this time is still so mortifying that he can barely stand to think about it. But even more so than that, Stiles wants Sasuke to be able to hear his name spoken correctly and with confidence from a friend. This can’t wait. ]
I brought you leeks! That’s gotta earn me like, at least an hour of practice with you.
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An hour.
[In what world does this exchange rate exist. Itachi looks moderately uncomfortable, shoulders a bit more tight, unprepared to devote so much time to this particular task. Yet it's also painfully familiar—how many times had he stayed in the training field well past the mark of dusk, grinding in a specific technique or maneuver, determined to perfect it before the day ended?
He lets out a short breath.] I don't think you require me for that. Practice with Sasuke.
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[ Stiles knows from experience not to push physical contact on Sasuke. Assuming that Itachi will feel the same way, he restrains himself from poking the man in the chest with an accusatory finger. ]
I’m not asking a lot here, dude!
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I was under the impression your request to meet here was important. [I.e. specifically related to Sasuke.] That isn't the case. Learning to have the discipline to guide yourself is more valuable.
[5.0 difficulty on ratemyprofessors.com.]
... Twenty minutes.
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[ Okay, Stiles. Deep breaths. If Madonna, Justin Timberlake, and Timbaland can save the world in four minutes, you can learn how to pronounce your friend’s name in five times that. ]
Argh, fine. I’m keeping half the leeks though!
[ – to build an effigy to Itachi with, so he can strangle it later. ]
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[If you can't master their names in twenty minutes, you don't deserve to say them at all... Or something.]
Go ahead.
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“Sasuke Uchiha,” [ he says confidently, only to reconsider and then correct himself, ] “Uchiha Sasuke.” Ha! Finally.
[ This moment calls for a fist pump of VICTORY, which he regrets indulging almost immediately. For once in your life, Stilinski. Be cool. ]
Oh – can’t forget this one. “Uchiha Itachi!”
[ When was the last time anyone injected that name with so much enthusiasm. ]
Eh? Ehhh? Not bad, right?
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Decent. I imagine Sasuke will approve.
[He immediately turns, going for the bench where the bag has remained, and extracts its contents. The leeks are sorted neatly in half—with the tip of the kunai he's been holding this whole time, don't @ me—then he collects his portion.]
Is that all? [can I go]
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[ Can you see this middle finger aimed at your back with your special eyes, Itachi. Can you. Oh wait, you don’t have them anymore. ]
What’re you…? Oh. Uh, dude. I was kidding. You can take them all.
[ Stiles really has no interest in leeks. ]
So, where to now?
[ You can go, Itachi. He clearly plans on coming with, though. ]
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I was planning to return these to the room I was provided by the Coven. [Maybe wash them, wrap them in cool cloth, leave them out to dry. Proper vegetable care.] After that, continue my research and training.
Why?
[He doesn't like sharing his plans, but it hasn't occurred to him Stiles intends to follow.]
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What are you researching? [ comes the inquiry of amiable curiosity as Stiles ignores the question. ] I’d ask about the training, but I can take a guess. Oh – did you seriously start training to become a shinobi when you were six too?
[ All said while he draws even with Itachi. Yes. You are stuck with him. This isn’t the afterlife. This is hell. ]
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The Cwyld, as well as a witch's classes of magic. [Juggling multiple topics at once is how he keeps busy. These two just happen to be at the front of his attention, at the moment.
That second question has a more reluctant answer, causing him to reach back into memory, into years now a blur of the past.] No. [...] I was four. Did Sasuke tell you this?
[If he had chakra it would be near effortless to shake Stiles somewhere along the way. As they walk, he watches their surroundings, as if still considering this an option.]
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No, I heard it from a magical conch shell that sells shinobi secrets every Wednesday. [ The sarcasm is an attempt to mask just how truly disturbed he is by this information. ] Yes, Sasuke told me.
[ He can’t even remember what he was doing as a four year old. Probably failing to color inside the lines, still. Jesus Christ. ]
We’ll come back to the Cwyld later. [ There will be a later, believe you that. ] I get different cultures have different expectations, but do you have any idea how fucked up your world sounds? In America, we can’t enlist in the military until we’re seventeen with parental consent – and there are millions of people who would argue even that’s way too young. I mean, at four… That’s like brainwashing.
[ Which, admittedly, probably isn’t the smartest thing to say to someone who has hypothetically been brainwashed. ]
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Anyway, after having those complex thoughts, Itachi responds.]
America. Is this different from Oregon? [Evidence he's paying attention, even when sometimes talking to him may feel like speaking into a black box...] Sasuke mentioned most here come from the planet called 'Earth'.
[Itachi stops at the next corner outside the park, silent for a moment as he decides which most efficient route to take back.]
I chose to begin training myself earlier than most shinobi. That was my decision. The age of a shinobi matters less than their level of skill, although the average to enroll at the Academy is around eight. [Common enough knowledge.] Do children choose their interests and careers so much later in America?
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[ Through this explanation, Stiles may seem casually unconcerned with where they’re headed. In reality, he’s trying to be discreet in both observing Itachi and keeping track of their location. ]
Anyways. Unless you’re some kind of freaky, super evolved human – [ the most offensively skeptical look ever ] – that’s bullshit. No kid that young independently decides to train themselves to become a future merc and assassin. [ His tone is firm, unwilling to even consider otherwise on the topic. ] In America, kids go through all sorts of phases. For example, I wanted to be a dinosaur when I was little. Then a submarine. Then a magician. Then a pilot. Then a racecar driver. And so on. Usually, we aren’t expected to settle on a career until at least we finish college at twenty-two. So, you can see why the idea of a four year old committing to being a shinobi is kinda ridiculous.
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Comparing your experience to my own would not be truly objective. You and I are different, and so are the places we have left behind. Those differences feel more stark because they are hard to imagine. Just as you struggle to understand what it means to be a shinobi, I cannot understand what it's like to wish to become a 'pilot' or 'submarine'.
[I can't believe I just wrote that.]
I was influenced by outside factors [that sure is Trauma with a capital T], as well as my own innate ability. Not everyone could have committed themselves as young as I did, nor should they try to.
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[ After repeated conversations with Sasuke on the topic, this is evolving into a hot button for Stiles. He shoves his hands aggressively into the pocket of his sweatshirt, hoping to conceal the frustrated flex of fingers that desperately want to articulate his point. This is such a stupid debate, and yet he can’t help but rise to the challenge – infuriated at the inhumane manner in which the Uchiha children were raised. ]
Okay. Okay. Maybe I need to back up. So, my “super evolved human” comment? Yeah. There’s a reason that would possibly be an exception. It has to do with the state of brain development in kids. Here’s the bottom line: Child soldiers are statistically more likely to develop psychological and behavioral problems later in life because of the bullshit they were put through at an age where their brains were still developing!
[ Stiles snorts, one hand fished out of the pocket to lightly smack his own forehead. ]
Oh, but of course that wouldn’t be an issue for you or Sasuke. We’re different! Our worlds are different. I mean, it’s not like either of you show any signs of repression, social withdrawal, or trauma! Thank god for that.
[ Get called out, biscuit. ]
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Sorry, Stiles, you're not coming home with him.]
Whether it is an issue or not, the truth that our worlds are different does not change. You fail to account for the fact that Sasuke and I could not have become anything else but shinobi. While there are other trades available to those who wish to pursue them, such as those who aren't capable of bearing the burden of a shinobi, both of us still chose this path. [They carry responsibility. They are Uchiha, if only in blood alone.] It's likely we would not have survived to adulthood if we had taken another. To behave as you expect, we would have needed to be born into your world, rather than our own.
[Something continues to needle Itachi even as he speaks. Stiles isn't wrong. He recognizes the life of ruin he's subjected himself to, but if it means thousands more could go on living normal lives, then it was worth it.]
It seems you've discussed this at length with Sasuke.
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A new item is added to his mental To Do List: Find out where Uchiha Itachi stays. ]
Not really, [ he disagrees, a little sourly. The conversation is leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. ] It’s come up once or twice, I guess.
Okay, so. [ You didn’t expect him to give up that easily, did you? ] None of this is meant as a criticism about either of you. Just…for the record. You were kids. And kids are meant to be protected by their guardians. Your parents are to blame.
[ It’s a bold accusation to make. Family is always a sensitive topic for people, including Stiles himself. But he doesn’t gentle his judgment; for all his father’s flaws, Noah Stilinski never forced him to grow up faster than he was ready to. ]
Maybe shinobi culture needs to change.
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He's quiet in the wake of that proclamation. A long moment passes this way, wherein Itachi remains focused on their direction, his eventual destination beginning to loom into sight. It isn't easy to miss. Colorful brickwork and tall spires jutting like teeth into the sky, Undermael College is huge and public, the ideal location to shed a persistent burr. And also potentially get some independent research done.]
Your criticism is meaningless. [Really, Stiles? You're bringing up their parents? Thin ice, buddy.] It cannot change the past. Nor should you attempt to place blame in a situation you hardly understand.
[This said in the sharpest tone he's used yet. Shutting that topic down.]
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Okay, then explain the situation to me! I’m dying to hear it. But I bet you probably think it’s none of my damn business, right? As if one of my closest friends isn’t the product of that fucked-up world and its insane, unrealistic expectations of kids. As if he isn’t still carrying the weight of that lifestyle on his shoulders – to the point where he hates being touched and doesn’t even feel like he has the right to talk about his own family. It’s all “meaningless.” Why? Because you’re dead?
[ Darting ahead, Stiles circles around to the front of Itachi in order to stop the man from walking. ]
Yeah, I can put two and two together. [ These days, it’s all he can do, it feels. ] You’re dead in that world. So what. Sasuke isn’t – and you’re both here now. It’s not meaningless. Not when you can make a difference.
[ Stiles, mouth twisted with cold anger, gets right in Itachi’s face. ]
You can make a difference for him!
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Stiles is in his face, seething, their eye level matched. The area surrounding them is not vacant; students who have risen early are in transit to their destinations, throwing curious glances as they pass.
Were he capable of it, Itachi would have vanished in a ploy of jutsu and black-winged birds. Here, there is no instant escape. All he has are words and reason.]
Enough. [Calm, quiet, a low and dragging tone of steely composure.] This subject has driven you to react emotionally. It would be best if you left, Stiles. I will not entertain the conversation further past this point.
[An appeal to his emotion. Sasuke, like weak threads pulling at the sewn knots of everything he is. Stiles can't know that. Konoha is safe, Sasuke is alive. Nothing else has ever mattered.]
Choose your words carefully in a public place.
[Then, gracefully, he makes to sidestep around Stiles and continue on the path.]
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Stiles shakes his head, forever at a loss to understand the two brothers. Painstakingly aware of the growing physical distance separating him from Itachi now, he allows himself fifteen seconds to chill out before chasing after the man. ]
So, since you’re obviously not taking the leeks back to your place like you said, [ he begins, tone a little terse after the argument, but otherwise conversational, ] I’m guessing you plan on research?
[ You won’t be rid of him that easily, Uchiha. ]
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And he doesn't answer Stiles. It should be obvious, in any case, so why should he encourage conversation? Time to test that unstoppable force against this immovable object. Inside, if Stiles is inclined to follow, the air is cool and carries that musty, papery scent universal to a location housing endless rows of tomes and scrolls and books.
If he ignores Stiles long enough, maybe he'll give up. All that evident energy must lend quick to boredom.]
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[ Stiles does indeed continue to follow Itachi, offering a brief thanks to the student in response to the doors held ajar. Though his curiosity flares up as they enter the building, he resolutely keeps his gaze pinned to the Witch’s back. Judging from what he gleaned during the shared dream, Itachi is the slippery type who’ll take off the moment Stiles looks away. With that in mind, he rolls up his sleeves to expose the trichobothria to the open air; the sooner he adjusts to the minimal vibrations that Itachi creates, the better chance he’ll have at tracking him. ]
I’m just going to remind you that I’m friends with your brother. [ His sneakers plod along so loudly in comparison to Itachi’s own footsteps. ] Who, by the way, is like a cactus in terms of personality. Normally I’d say something like, “no offense.” But, honestly? Full offense.
[ Where is this going, Stiles? ]
My point is… Do you really think you can freeze me out that easily? You’re gonna learn real fast that I can talk enough for two people, buddy.
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chuckles, im in danger
:}
text; the fact that i used "eminent" instead of "imminent" is going to haunt me until the day i die
i didn't even notice, but now i do