Your Lies || Itachi x Reader

Chapter 5.1

My mother rearranged the couch cushions as I approached her from behind. I was nervous since I had a really important request to ask her about. I'd asked her this multiple times in the past, but she had said no every time. "Mother, I wish to ask you s-something." I faltered.

She turned around, looking directly at me. As usual, she looked annoyed. Or at least, that's the emotions I could read from her facial expressions.

"Can you please help me out with ice release?" I asked, hoping her answer wasn't the same as usual. "I don't have anyone to help me and the scriptures and writings are hard for me to understand," I explained, wishing she would understand my plight. I awaited her answer nervously.

She didn't bother to reply. Slowly, she turned around, continuing to dust the cushions. "Mother!" I yelped. "I can never improve my ice release if I don't have someone to train or help me!" She looked at me for a second, then resumed doing her work.

"Find someone else."

Whenever my mother spoke, she would keep her replies brief. And usually, she wasn't the one to initiate a conversation.

"There are no other ice users around! At least none that I know of. Most of them are in hiding or live far away," I reasoned, frustration noticeable in my tone. Again, no reply. "Please say something, Mother..." I said softly. She never showed interest while talking to me.

I waited for a second and just like before there was no reply. "Mother..." I sniffled. Why am I tearing up? Y/n, pull it together! I don't understand why you're crying! I thought to myself.

"Whatever," I murmured, trying to show my mother that I didn't care either. But in reality, it hurt me a lot when my mother acted so distant and closed off.

I rushed up to my bedroom.

As I had said earlier, my mother was greatly affected by my father's death. His death hit her harder than it did to me and my sister. Before he died, my mom was a very bubbly person and she was talkative. But as soon as the news reached her of his death, her anxiety spiraled and blocked off everyone from her life. She stopped talking to all of her friends from the village. Now that I think about it, the only people she interacts with are me and my sister. Most of her time is spent at home. And she doesn't like to go out anymore. We took her to a therapist, but she refused to tell the therapist anything personal.

After living like this for 13 long years, I feel like my mom may be pushed to the edge and end up taking her own life. At this point, she's just existing and not living.

She may try to show or pay no attention to things around her, but she sometimes reacts to them. Whenever a matter regarding shinobi activities is mentioned, she frowns or scowls. So, it made me realize that she despises people who chose the path of living as shinobi.

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My mother's blood ran cold. She collapsed on the ground, greatly shaken by the news of my father dying.

Just like before, I was back in my five-year-old body.

"Mother! Mother! Wake up!" a younger version of Mei screamed, desperately shaking my unconscious mother to wake her up. I trembled. Although I had complete control over myself since this was just a memory, I couldn't help but be frightened by reliving this. This was the first time in my life I experienced true fear. The fear of seeing my mother die right in front of my eyes was a thought that was too unbearable to think about. I didn't want to experience it.

My naive five-year-old self wouldn't be able to handle the death of both of my parents. I could barely handle the fact that my father was dead. But to lose my mother too... It would damage me even further.

Two masked Anbu rushed into our home. They hurried to the living room, where my panicked sister sat beside my unconscious mother. I didn't know this at the time, but these two Anbu were here only because they came to pick up the official death documents. They had already given us the message but were waiting for my mother to sign his death documents. The only reason they heard my sister scream was because they had just arrived and happened to be outside.

"Please! Don't let her die!" Mei, a complete mess, cried. I wasn't fully aware of what was happening. All I could do was observe and continue to watch.

"We won't, Lady Mei," one of the Anbu said, reassuring her everything was going to be okay.

"We need to rush her to the hospital," the other Anbu said. They both lifted my mother, carefully holding her as they ran out of our house and directly to the hospital.

Mei followed behind them, leaving me alone at home. They ran through the heavy rain, not caring about getting wet at all. All they were focused on was my mother.

Is... mother okay? I sat on the porch of our house. "Of course, she is. Mother is strong..." I tried telling myself. Tears streamed from my face. "Shinobi don't cry," I told myself, wiping them off.

I waited for hours... until I finally decided to head inside my home. I hope they'll be back soon. I don't like being home alone. I locked my home door. I feared being alone specifically because there was no one to protect me.

I went over to the place my mom had collapsed a few hours earlier. On the table, there was a piece of paper. I didn't know how to read since I hadn't gone to school yet. The paper had many small words on it. The largest words were at the top of the page.

I was curious about what they said. Since I had learned the alphabet and the sound each letter makes, I wanted to try to read what was on the page. Slowly, I tried to figure out how to pronounce the first word on the page. "De... ath" I read carefully.

The first word I ever read was the word "death."

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I looked at my hands and in the mirror. I was back in the present as my 18-year-old self. I touched my face, making sure this was real and I wasn't in some memory or flashback. Another buried memory made itself apparent.

There's a reason my mind had unconsciously erased these memories. It was because they were too painful for me to remember. I didn't want to keep remembering them. But every so often, one of them would come back. And I would have to relive that dreadful experience.

I brushed my hair frantically, trying to get the flashback I had experienced off my mind. This isn't working. I thought, putting aside my hairbrush. I need to do something else. Staying in this room or house right now is going to trigger more memories to resurface or cause me to keep focusing on the one I had just experienced.

It would be best to go out and do something to distract myself.

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