Naruto One Shots

It Hurts (Itachi Uchiha)

[Art work is not mine! Credit to Hikaru Meo]

Requested by: Myself
[Idea inspired by I'm Yours sung by Isabel LaRosa]

Word Count: 3,304

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:
- I'll fight to my grave that Uchihas go through withdrawals if they're away from the people/person they love for too long
- Also, angst. Sorry, not sorry. Suffer and cry like I did while writing it :)

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"Hey," a voice calls softly before a finger is tapped against my forehead.
"Hey," I call back, tearing my eyes out of my textbook to look at the poker. Standing in front of me is Itachi, who's not looking too hot. He's pale, paler than normal, and decorated in sweat droplets. "You don't look too good."
"I'm fine," he mumbles, eyes glancing around the school grounds.
"Your suspension over?" He hums a yes, eyes flickering to me before he goes back to the scenery. "Are you still grounded?" Another hummed yes. "For how long?"
"I don't know," he mutters, shifting his weight around.
His face flashes with pain, visible for only a second, before he's stone-faced again. "You seem sick, maybe you should go home and rest."
"I'm fine," Itachi repeats, eyes landing on me again, but this time they stay put.
"No, you're not. You look like you're dying."
"I'm not dying, Little Crow." My face scrunches at the nickname. I don't like when Itachi uses it, it makes me feel like he's degrading me or has an inside joke that I'm not in on. "I'm just in a bit of pain. It'll subside."
"Why are you in pain?" I yelp, my words soaked in worry. Because of my worry, I'm on my feet, sliding my hands over my best friend in search of any injuries. "I thought you didn't start duty for another two weeks?" Panic soon fills my words as well, another unwanted emotion filling me because of my unwanted best friend.
Throughout our school years, Itachi has been attached to my hip and unwilling to be unattached. Over the three years, I've accepted it. There's no point in fighting an uphill battle, even if the hill is an unemotional, stone-faced, Uchiha protege.
"I don't."
"You don't what?" I hiss, patting him down again.
"I don't start for another two weeks," Itachi explains, his hands catching my wrists.
"Then why are you in pain? Did you pick another fight?" I question, anger quickly replacing my worry. The last thing Itachi needs is to be picking more fights, especially with the start of his Shinobi career just fourteen days away.
     "No, can't you just drop it?" Itachi huffs, his hands sliding down to cup my elbows.
     "Headstrong, ego-driven shinobis are usually the firsts to die in battle," I respond, mimicking his huffiness. "Why are you hurting?"
     Itachi's eyes fall closed, soft breaths being inhaled and held before exhaling, his attempt to stay patient with me. "You."
     "Me?!" I screech, about ready to throw down with Mr 'Amazing'.
     "Yes. Well, no, but also yes. Just drop it," his face heats up, pink dusting his sheet-white skin as his nose scrunches up. Mr. 'Amazing' is experiencing some big-boy emotions, ones he doesn't know how to deal with. "It's complicated," Itachi tries again after another round of calming breaths.
     "Then explain it to me, or are you too high and mighty for me now?"
     His face scrunches up at my question, but I'm not sure if it's from anger or sadness. "You are incredibly naive."
     "And you're too big for your britches."
     Itachi's face relaxes again at my insult. He all of a sudden seems better, some of the sweat subsiding and his skin getting just a hint of color back sometime during our discussion. "You're so pretty it hurts."
     "I knew that-" I cut myself off once Itachi's answer fills my mind. The words tumble around, not being able to process correctly. "I don't... what did you say?"
"I said," Itachi starts, shifting closer to me. His eyes almost glow as he stares into mine, his hands tight but soft to keep me in place, and his nose barely touching mine. "You're so pretty it hurts."
"How... how does that..." A rare smile cracks across his face, hiding his stress lines the slightest.
     "I don't know. My mother said that... well... if someone from my clan cares about... if we're away from someone... it's kind of like getting withdrawals." My chest warms from Itachi's stuttering, his words sticking in his throat as he tries to explain.
     "So what you're saying is that you're an addict and I'm your drug," I tease, pulling away from my emotionally stunted friend. "What a little addict."
     "That is not what I'm saying. I'm not an addict - Little Crow," Itachi races out, huffing and puffing as he walks after me.
"How do you plan to survive once you're an active-duty Shinobi? What are you going to do? Make yourself little fixes to take with you, little addict?" I continue to tease, walking down the familiar path towards my home.
"I don't know. It'll be fine. Can you stop wording it like that? What if someone eavesdrops? They're going to think I'm a drug addict." It's entertaining seeing how upset Itachi is about this. It's a nice reminder that he's not as old as he acts.
"It's quite the ego boost to know I'm your addiction, Tachi."
"Little Crow!" He hisses again, eyes jumping around to the people filling the busy streets of the village.
"Hey, maybe now that you'll be too busy for me, I'll become the addiction of a different Uchahi."
"No," he yells, his hand shooting forward to grab ahold of my shirt collar. "Absolutely not," he repeats softer this time, tugging me backward, my back colliding with his chest.
     Itachi feels hot, his body heat sizzling through his shirt. "I was just kidding," I tell him, leaning my head back to look at the angry future chief. "I'm yours." Once the words are out, his body heat noticeably drops, shifting him back to the normal cold-to-the-touch temperature I'm used to.