WHISPERS OF DARK DESIRES || ITASASU

Chapter Three: Breaking Point

The hideout was eerily quiet in the pre-dawn hours, long before anyone would normally stir. The shadows were thick, clinging to the walls like remnants of dreams that had never quite faded with the night. Sasuke sat alone in the common room, the flickering light of a single lantern casting his face in sharp relief. His eyes were fixed on the floor, but his thoughts were elsewhere, spiraling in dark circles he couldn't break free from.

Sleep had been impossible, haunted by fractured images of last night—of the confrontation in the kitchen, of Itachi's cold, knowing gaze, of the dangerous edge that seemed to lurk beneath every word they exchanged. His mind was a battlefield, every thought clashing with the next. The more he tried to suppress the fire burning inside him, the more it raged out of control.

He felt like he was on the edge of something—something terrifying, something he couldn't define. And the worst part was that no matter how much he tried to push it away, that feeling always brought him back to him. To Itachi.

He clenched his fists, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his chest, until it felt like he might snap. He wanted to break something, to scream, to lash out at the source of this torment. But every time he tried to focus, to channel his frustration into something tangible, his mind only dragged him back to the way Itachi's hand felt around his throat, the heat of his body pressed against him, the quiet whisper of his challenge.

A soft creak of the floorboards made Sasuke's head snap up. Itachi was standing at the entrance to the common room, his silhouette framed by the dim light of the hallway. For a moment, neither of them moved, both locked in that familiar, suffocating tension that hung between them like a shroud.

Itachi's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the sight of Sasuke already awake, sitting there like a coiled spring ready to snap. He knew his brother well enough to recognize the turmoil brewing just beneath the surface, and he was done pretending that this could be solved by ignoring it. The silence between them had become its own kind of poison, and Itachi was ready to force the issue.

"You're up early," Itachi said quietly, though there was an edge to his voice, a quiet intensity that cut through the stillness of the room. "Waiting for me?"

Sasuke's jaw tightened. He didn't need this right now—didn't need the way Itachi's voice seemed to slide under his skin, igniting everything he was desperately trying to hold down. "Why bother asking if you already know?" Sasuke muttered, his voice low and bitter.

Itachi's gaze darkened, his patience wearing thin. He could feel the tension radiating off Sasuke, could see the way his fists trembled slightly at his sides. Itachi had played the game long enough, letting Sasuke dance around his emotions, avoiding the truth like a plague. But there was no more room for subtlety. It was time to tear down the walls.

"If you want a fight, Sasuke, then take it," Itachi said, his voice firm and unyielding. He stepped into the room, closing the distance between them with deliberate slowness. "If it's revenge you're after, then stop hiding behind all these excuses. But don't pretend like this—" He gestured vaguely between them, "—can be solved by silence or avoiding each other."

Sasuke's eyes flashed, a dangerous mix of anger and confusion swirling in the depths of his gaze. "What are you talking about? What is it you want from me, Itachi? You keep pushing and pushing, but you never just say it."

Itachi's expression hardened, his gaze locking onto Sasuke's. "Because what you need to say—what you're afraid to admit—won't be forced out by words alone."

Before Sasuke could react, Itachi's eyes shifted, the familiar red glow of his Sharingan flaring to life. In an instant, the world around Sasuke twisted, colors blurring as reality bent and warped. He felt the pull of Itachi's genjutsu tugging him under, dragging him into a space where time and control were no longer his own.