When [Name] opens her eyes, she finds a pair of strong arms around her. She knows it's Itachi. He's clingy. He's been sneaking into her room and cuddling with her since the second week he's been living with her.
She turns in his arms to face him, and he's already awake. Eyes wide, with a big smile on his face.
"Good morning!" He says.
[Name] breathes in, stretching the best she could in his embrace. "Morning."
"Let's laze around in bed for a bit," Itachi says, snuggling into the crook of her neck.
"I can't. I have work."
Itachi makes a disapproving sound. He hates that [Name] has to work. The idea of his beloved slaving away for anyone but him makes his stomach turn. He believes she doesn't need to work if she has him. He'll do anything for [Name].
The warmth of her body slips from his hold; quickly, he becomes cold. He hears her shuffle around, gathering her things for a proper shower. "How long will you be gone?"
She hums. "I work until late. Don't wait up for me, okay?"
[Name] shuts the bedroom door behind her, heading for the bathroom. Itachi stays alone in bed, beneath the blankets, wishing for her to return already.
"That's all I can do," he mutters, pulling the blankets higher up until his face is covered, "Is wait for you."
...
It's been months.
Fugaku, despite the loss of two sons, thought everything was going well. Mikoto hasn't had any fits, silently doing housework, finally making meals for him; they even slept in the same bed together. It's been years since they've cuddled.
But, she just had to say, "I saw Itachi two months ago."
"Ah, you changed his flowers at the gravesite?" Fugaku asks, hoping that's what she meant. He sits up in his chair, folding the newspaper across his lap. He looks to Mikoto from across the room. She's stitching up one of Sasuke's old sweaters he never wears anymore. Since his absence, Mikoto has made a habit of occupying his room, finding broken things of his, and fixing them.
Mikoto smiles, not making eye contact. "No, I saw him. He was watering grass at some house. He looked so happy, but... he doesn't remember me."
"Mikoto," he begins but then pauses. The thing he wanted nothing to do with is alive. Moving, living somewhere close, still in Konoha. He shudders. "Mikoto, that's a good thing. Stay away from it."
"If I see him again, I can't promise I won't go running towards my son."
Fugaku uncrosses his legs, back straight, jaw taut. "Stay away from that house."
"I won't."
He stands, throwing down his paper to show some sort of dominance. Mikoto is a firecracker. Her personality is too wild to control. So he has to rule with an iron fist, and if he ever wavered, he'd never be taken seriously.
"Mikoto, leave that thing alone. Leave that house alone."
Mikoto continues stitching up the hole, pretending like she doesn't hear the man. Humming an unknown tune, pushing herself further into her own world.
"Please, Mikoto, you don't know what that thing is capable of... You don't know what'll happen if that thing finally remembers you." He's practically pleading now, but his words fall on deaf ears. She doesn't care what will happen.
Her hysteria has reached a point of delusion. Mikoto believes if she can reconnect with her son, everything will return to how it was. Sasuke will magically return, happy to see his stuff is all repaired thanks to his wonderful mother. Itachi will spread his optimism and positivity, something this broken family desperately needs. Fugaku will return to how he was when both his children were here; kind, warm, stern, but loving. Even she will blossom into a healthy ray of sunshine. She'll become the mother that her children need, the wife her husband longs for, and all her tears will dry up, her grief will evaporate from her body like rain in Suna.
"I'm going to cook him a hot meal and bring it over," Mikoto says, her voice a dreamlike sigh. "Don't you think that lovely?"
Fugaku approaches Mikoto and takes her hands. Their eyes lock, and he sees the metaphorical fluffy cloud of fantasies riddle those black hues he loved. He doesn't know how long this insanity will last.
The only thing he can do is squeeze her hands.
"Yes, my dear," he whispers. "That sounds lovely."
...
When [Name] returns home, Itachi is cooking up some dinner. The smell of spices fills the air, tempting [Name's] nostrils. But she doesn't pay any mind to what he's doing.
Today, on her break, Deidara texted her. He wants to talk to her. [Name] is a nervous wreck and hasn't bothered to text back since she was working at the time. But now, she has all the time in the world to respond.
She flops on her couch, phone in hand, staring at the words on the screen. From the corner of her eye, she sees Itachi coming towards her with two plates in hand. He places both on the coffee table before settling next to her.
He puts one arm around her shoulders, and unfortunately, his eyes see the screen.
"Who's Deidara?"
He sees the heart emoji [Name] didn't bother to move after their breakup. She does still love him, after all.
[Name] shrugs, too melancholy to answer appropriately. "Someone I knew."
Itachi notices she doesn't take her eyes off her phone. He wants this attention. [Name] should be worrying over him, not this Deidara.
He places his hand over the phone, pushing it out of view, even going as far as to take it from her grasp, setting it to the right of him. Itachi forces himself into her view, smiling.
"Let's eat."
He hands her the bowl of curry. The smell of it makes her stomach rumble. Atop the rice is a fried chicken cutlet, sliced in eight perfect strips.
"Do you not like katsu curry?" He asks, worried he's done something wrong.
"I do," [Name] begins with a sigh, "but I'm not that hungry today. Thank you, though, Itachi."
She sets her bowl back on the round coffee table and stands. The night is still young, but [Name] is ready for bed. To laze around and mope over her ex.
Itachi watches her go, frowning. He's not upset over the waste of food, nor the lack of greetings from [Name], but he just can't stand seeing her depressed like this. And he knows it has to with this Deidara person.
He picks up her phone, quickly unlocking it. He's seen her passcode so many times now, it plays in his simulated dreams. The messages from Deidara would bring anxiety to any average person. They convey an ominous doom, a conversation neither want to provide but must have to be on level ground, revealing everything but nothing simultaneously.
But Itachi isn't an average person. He isn't even a person at all.
He types out:
Don't ever text this number again. [Name] wants nothing to do with you.
Itachi smiles at his work before sending it. Itachi expects angry texts to come through, or perhaps even a solemn acceptance of [Name] moving on.
What he doesn't expect is the phone to ring.
YOU ARE READING
Defective .:Yandere!Itachi x Fem!Reader:. AU
Fanfiction[Name] is such a lonely person, desperate for a relationship. She has no siblings, she moved away from her parents, and not to mention she dropped out of school. She feels like a failure, yet no one is there to tell her she's trying her best. Finall...
