WHISPERS OF DARK DESIRES || ITASASU

Chapter Five: Blurring Reality

Sasuke blinked.

Then blinked again, confusion settling into his bones as the world around him twisted and snapped back into a scene he hadn't expected. The quiet clearing, the tension, the heat—it was all gone. In its place was the dimly lit hideout, alive with the noise of clinking cups, low laughter, and the drunken banter of the Akatsuki members. The smell of sake and food hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the intensity of the moment he was sure he had just lived.

He felt disoriented, his mind struggling to reconcile what he was seeing with what he'd just experienced. Was he dreaming? Was any of it real? His breath came in shallow bursts as he looked around, his eyes darting across the room in search of something—anything—that made sense.

And then he saw him.

Across the long, low table, Itachi sat quietly, his expression unreadable as ever. But this time, there was something different in his eyes—something distant, as if he were gazing through Sasuke rather than at him. The flickering candlelight danced across Itachi's face, casting long shadows that only deepened the sense of unease twisting in Sasuke's gut.

Sasuke could feel a droplet of sweat slowly trailing down his temple, despite the chill in the air. It clung to his skin, a cold reminder that whatever had just happened, whether it was real or some cruel illusion, it had left him rattled. His heart was still racing, the ghost of that intense, forbidden moment lingering just beneath the surface of his thoughts.

Before he could fully process what was happening, Itachi stood up.

The simple motion sent a ripple through the room—Akatsuki members pausing mid-conversation to glance his way, only to lose interest just as quickly. But Sasuke's attention was wholly fixed on his brother as Itachi moved with that familiar, effortless grace, his every step measured and deliberate. He never broke eye contact, his gaze locked onto Sasuke's as he approached, each step dragging out the tension until it was unbearable.

Itachi came to a stop beside Sasuke, his presence looming like a shadow. The air between them crackled with the same tension that had haunted their interactions for months now—thick, almost suffocating. Sasuke's breath hitched as Itachi leaned down, bringing his lips close to Sasuke's ear. The warmth of Itachi's breath sent a shiver racing down his spine, setting every nerve on edge.

"Did you like my present?" Itachi whispered, his voice barely audible, yet each word cut through the noise of the room like a blade.

Sasuke's mind reeled, struggling to grasp what was happening. *Present?* The confusion deepened, swirling together with the remnants of the intense emotions from before. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask what Itachi meant, to demand answers, but the words died on his tongue. His thoughts were too tangled, too conflicted, to form any coherent response.

But before he could gather himself, Itachi straightened, his expression as calm and composed as ever. And this time, his voice wasn't a whisper; it carried clearly through the room as he addressed his brother. "Happy birthday, Sasuke."

The words were simple, almost too normal, considering everything that had just unfolded—or seemed to have unfolded. But the weight behind them felt anything but ordinary. Itachi's gaze lingered for a moment longer, a flicker of something inscrutable passing through his eyes, before he turned and walked away, leaving Sasuke frozen in place, his mind spinning.

The sounds of the celebration came rushing back—Kisame's raucous laughter, Deidara's smug commentary, the clattering of cups—but it all felt distant, muted. Sasuke was barely aware of the world around him, his thoughts still trapped in the lingering haze of whatever it was that had just happened.

*Was it real?* The question gnawed at him, refusing to let go. He could still feel the phantom touch of Itachi's fingers on his skin, the press of their bodies, the heat of the kiss that had felt so vivid, so undeniable. But how could it have been real? It was as if he had been pulled from one reality and dropped back into another, his mind struggling to differentiate between the two.

As the party continued around him, Sasuke felt a chill settle over him—a chill that had nothing to do with the cold air. The memory—or was it a dream?—of Itachi's voice, of that whispered question, clung to him like a second skin. The confusion and frustration roiled within him, but there was something else now, too: a deep, unsettling dread.

Whatever had happened, whatever Itachi had shown him, it wasn't over. This was a game—one that Itachi was playing with a mastery that only he could achieve. And Sasuke knew, deep in his gut, that this wasn't the end. It was only the beginning.

For now, though, all Sasuke could do was sit in the midst of the celebration, feeling like he was caught between two worlds—one where the tension between them was simmering beneath the surface, and another where it had boiled over in a way that was impossible to take back.

And as the hours crept by, the echoes of Itachi's parting words, "Did you like my present?," continued to ring in Sasuke's ears, a reminder that the line between reality and illusion had never been blurrier.

Sasuke left the celebration behind, too startled to stay around the other members, their laughter, their bickering, it was all too overwhelming. A celebration he didn't want, a celebration that only served to deepen his already confusing feelings. As he stepped outside of the hideout, his breath coming in clouds in the night, he made his way to the clearing. Although he knew that what had happened, or seemed to happen, won't be there anymore, he still had to know.

Sitting underneath that same tree Sasuke was pinned against before, was Itachi, his eyes closed as his hair was flowing in the breeze around him.