WANTED: Itachi Uchiha

Juroku

When Itachi awoke, his body wasn't quite his own. It felt lighter, less burdened than it had done in well, ever. He didn't have the weight of the world on his shoulders and he could breathe freely without his chest constricting with undiluted dread. 

He must be dead after all. 

He could have sworn he heard Sasuke crying over his body, whilst Reina attempted to keep him awake. He hadn't fought the darkness that finally claimed him. After all it had been stalking him for months, if not years, watching him silently until that tiny seed took sprout and made him want to leave everything behind. 

"You do realise that she had her hand in your chest, right?" A voice called out, breaking Itachi's line of thought. "A pretty bold move if you ask me."

"Shi-...Shisui?" 

The Elder Uchiha blinked at his friend, too stunned to react. Shisui was dressed in a plain, white kimono - just like him. 

"Am…Am I dead?" Itachi asked, looking down at his own snowy attire, his skin glowing eerily. 

"No," Shisui smiled, his raven orbs alight. "she made sure of that." The curly haired shinobi cocked his head towards the bed where Itachi's body lay peacefully. Reina sat on one side, holding his hand between her palms; Sasuke occupied his other side, his younger brother having fell asleep holding onto his other hand. 

"What do you mean she had her hand in my chest?" Itachi asked as he stepped around the bed, eyeing his unconscious form. Shisui rolled his eyes. 

"For someone who has the IQ of a Hokage, you sure can be a right ditz sometimes." Shisui poked Itachi's forehead, a different kind of smile blooming on his mouth. Itachi rubbed his forehead, his brows knitting together. "When Sasuke couldn't get a rhythm with normal compressions, Reina literally put her hand in your chest and manually started pumping your heart. And that was after she'd neutralised the tablets in your stomach. Smart girl." Shisui smirked, he visibly impressed. 

"Why?" Itachi gawped, his mouth ajar. "Why didn't she just let me die?" 

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" 

When Itachi opened his eyes, he expected to be blinded by hospital lights and the aggressive beeping of numerous monitors. Instead, he was greeted by a dimly lit room, the curtains drawn and a nearby chōchin lantern burning in the corner. This wasn't the hospital. And it wasn't his bedroom. 

"Hey, you're awake." Reina whispered, a bleak smile edging onto her lips. 

"Where am I?" Itachi asked, looking around the room for any telltale signs. All he found was a snoozing Sasuke to his left, and an ebony chest of drawers against the far wall that housed a porcelain wash basin and matching jug. 

"You're in my home." Reina answered. "You said no hospital, so here we are. Home sweet home." Reina tucked her hair behind her ear, she having managed to wash the blood and vomit out. It had taken a while. For the first 15 minutes or so, she had just cried, her knees tucked up to her chest whilst the hot water pummelled her back.

"Do you want something to drink? You've been out a good while." Itachi nodded silently, he suddenly realising how dry his mouth was. His teeth felt fuzzy and his tongue felt as though it had its own fur coat. Strangely enough, Reina didn't move from her position at his side, instead she adjusted herself in the seat, crossing her legs and letting go of his hand. 

"Did you really have your hand in my chest?" Itachi blurted out, his eyes fixated on Reina's now bloodless hands. 

"Hai. I did."

"Why? Why go to such an effort?" Itachi asked, the phantom pain of her hand in his chest blooming from the memory. 

"Because you did the exact same thing for me." Itachi paused, his lips parting in confusion. He hadn't put his hand in her chest, not that he could recall anyway. "In the hospital, you made a conscious decision. One that would change everything. I simply returned the favour."

"Why?" Itachi asked, his throat croaking. "Why not just let me die?" Tears slid down his cheeks, they bleeding into the fabric of the pillow. Reina smiled weakly, leaning forward to carefully wipe away the tears from his cheek; her hand so cool against his skin as she brushed her thumb over his cheekbone. 

"Because I want you to live."