（ it is not exactly a sentiment he can offer in return. he did not miss wei ying, because while he was gone he did not know him. but, when the man presses in against his side and space, he makes room for him as if it was the truth, some unuttered sentiment. ）
[He lets out a soft huff of would be laughter. There isn't anything for Itachi to be sorry for. The universe maybe, or the multiverse, or the orbs, but not Itachi.]
After I've slept, will you tell me where you went?
[He pulls away as he asks, kicking off his shoes and discarding his shirt before he reaches for Itachi's hand again to tug him towards the bed.]
（ there is no resistance. he goes, and nudges his companion into the bed, following only once wei ying is settled and comfortable. he remains clothed for no reason other than the fact he has no desire to sleep. ）
Yes.
（ he leans in, presses a chaste kiss to the man's bare shoulder. ）
Rest.
（ there is a note of soft command there, something stirred up in his own innate talents. not fully genjutsu, but — a suggestion backed by that skill.
once the suggestion takes root, and the man's breathing evens out and deepens, he shifts slightly onto his back, one arm resting casually over his own stomach, the other behind his head providing a sort of cushion in the crux of his elbow. an edo tensei does not need to breathe except to speak, the pull of air into borrowed lungs is an entirely different feeling and sensation than his body's singular need. he is mindful of its functions, its foibles, in a way few people ever are. but where he expects it to grate against his awareness, he feels only peace.
he studies the ceiling, with its webbed drum set and various pictures had been cluttered enough to offend him once, and now it is... home.
what a curious word.
for most of his life, home has been a time more than a place, more than a person. home was the summer before shisui died, when he was still so certain that the fate of their clan could be diverted from disaster. it was the moments spent with sasuke — rare evenings when duty and guilt were not pressing down upon him, inexorable — where itachi was tasked with helping him with homework, or sharing icy treats at nakano lake. it was sitting still and patient before his mother as she worked blood out of his hair. it was playing shogi with his father as twilight kissed the sky and the whole world narrowed to the singular point of focus, the clack of tiles on lacquered wood.
he was already in anbu then. already tasked with the observation of his clan. but every once in a while, such things could be set aside. moments of freedom stolen like the frenetic, dying gasps of a drowning man.
and for the years after — nothing. a missing-nin has no home, and he had both expected not to know that peace again, and accepted that fate unflinching. he left the concept in the past, preserved by the sharingan's perfect recall, and had not once deluded himself that his life could end any way except how it had.
if he closes his eyes, he can still see sasuke's face. it blurs, at times, between the child and the man he became.
sasuke would not have liked wei ying, he thinks. just as he did not care for anyone who took the bulk of his attention elsewhere. perhaps he would even think him weak, a liability, or a fool. but... here, in this time, in this place...
mm.
once the man begins to stir and rise from wakefulness, whether it is minutes or hours later he has not genuinely kept track, lost in distant contemplation. firstly: ）
[The assurance reaches him before doubt can creep in and he smiles, relief and affection all mixed together in the expression. He's groggy still—a few hours of rest not enough to leave him feeling fully refreshed, but he has no desire to continue sleeping. He reaches out with one hand to brush hair away from Itachi's face and simply look at him.
It wasn't so long ago that they lay in that cove in Golden Haven in much the same position they're in now, but it feels a lifetime ago since then. For a long moment Wei Wuxian remains that way, and when he shifts, it is only to let his hand slide from Itachi's cheek to his chest, allowing it to pause over his heart. He can't feel its beat over his clothes, but he feels warm and alive. It's enough.
Wei Wuxian leans forward to press a kiss of his own to Itachi's lips, chaste and unhurried. He is mildly aware of his sleep sour breath, and the combination of that awareness with his desire to keep looking at Itachi has him pulling away shortly.]
It wasn't a dream. [He repeats back, soft and satisfied.]
Are you okay?
[He doesn't know where Itachi had gone—if he'd been aware or felt anything at all. His eyes scan his form before rising again to hold his gaze.]
[Happiness implies a kind of emotional exuberance that he doesn't feel capable of in the moment, but peace has settled over him like a warm cloak, and contentment rests over every line of his body. He shifts closer and presses his lips to Itachi's shoulder and then to his chin, fleeting touches of intimacy more than anything made of passion.]
（ he wraps an arm around the man's shoulders, lazy with ease. he is no longer resistant to the physical contact with his friend, but it is still rare that he initiates it. ）
'All right' will suffice for now. Did any new talismans come of my absence?
[His eyes dart away sheepishly as he relaxes into Itachi's arm.]
No. I couldn't even tell you what I was working on. [He snorts softly and shakes his head.]
Nothing good ever comes from when I do my work like that. [He thinks of his time in the Burial Mounds with the Wen and the soul sacrifice summons, and wonders if Itachi will know what he means. Eager to shift the topic away from his relative uselessness over the last few days, his eyes flicker up to meet his friend's.]
（ what happened is still so new and precious he cannot decide if it is wound or weight. his mouth thins, and for a long moment he says nothing, his gaze faint and unfocused as he looks to a point over the man's shoulder.
wei ying is perhaps the only person aboard the station for whom he would consider divulging the story. not because he alone would understand, not because he alone would ask — but because itachi has always been private, and this... it is the sort of experience one must crack themselves open to share.
there is a shift of his weight, and then he reaches out to rest his and against the man's wrist, thumb stroking downwards against the vein. ）
[It is only because of what Edo Tensei is that Wei Wuxian remembers. Had it been one of Itachi's many skills that he hasn't seen in action, it's likely the name would have been lost to his memory, but he always remembers the names of abilities so close to demonic cultivation in nature.
And in remembering, his stomach tightens with anxiety, understanding dawning.
In response he nods, silently encouraging Itachi to continue.]
（ recognizing that anxiety in play, he leans over to kiss the man's shoulder. it's a soft gesture, accentuated by the slip of his hair to veil his face. ）
It was not bad.
（ it is simply so much to tell. it would almost be easier, to just dump the memories of his experience into the man's mind, but... a part of him balks at it. it would involve being too seen. ）
There was a man who desired war against the five great shinobi nations. An Edo Tensei is nearly indestructible — it can only be sealed, not killed. I was resurrected along many members of Akatsuki, and any great shinobi of the past century for whom the right conditions could be met. When you are revived in this manner, your actions are not your own — but to be at the apex of your power, your mind must be. I was sent with another to combat and capture Uzumaki Naruto and a man named Killer Bee.
（ his gaze slips to the ceiling. he finds himself studying that drum set again. ）
However... before I died, I had imparted Shisui's eye to Naruto. He was not aware of what it meant. And as I knew Sasuke would take my eyes, I had... intended that the use of their Mangekyō would trigger Kotoamatsukami. I knew Sasuke was on a dangerous path, and that if he continued on it he would be at odds with Konoha. So, I had attempted to set up a failsafe to save his life and my village. Instead, that failsafe was used on my body in the throes of Edo Tensei, and I was able to break control from the man who had chosen to resurrect me.
[To say it's a lot to take in would be an understatement. Still, Wei Wuxian benefits at least from understanding what Edo Tensei is and how it works. He'll admit he doesn't entirely understand how Shisui's eyes were meant to act as a trigger, but he understands enough to get an idea of what happened.
Itachi was brought back as a tool and it failed. He'd regained his autonomy.
Still, even the thought that someone sought to use him that way beyond death—as if he hadn't spent his whole life being used as a tool by different men—is enough to make his heart ache.]
Uzumaki Naruto. [He repeats the name out loud, searching his memory.] That was the boy who cared for your brother. The one you said might be able to change things.
[And Itachi had been raised to bring harm to him.
It failed, he reminds himself, and cools the embers of anger threatening to flare to life.]
Yes. He grew even more powerful after my death. It was truly magnificent to behold.
（ there is a soft fondness in his tone, and pride. naruto... the boy to change things indeed. ）
I sent him elsewhere, and then went after the one pulling the strings on Edo Tensei. And along that path, I happened across my brother. As it happens, after my death he was told the true nature of my deception by the man I knew as Madara — but who was, in truth, my cousin Obito.
（ the tangled uchiha web coming back to haunt him. he had met obito only once before he died, and his name was effectively scrubbed from the annals of history borne of that disgraceful failure. he had not even considered it as a possibility, and has not yet had a chance to unpack that deception in his own mind. that will be something to revisit later, when he is alone.
for now — ）
We fought together against the enemy. We won. I broke the jutsu. （ perhaps wei ying will note the language there. i. itachi has always been allergic to taking credit for affecting positive change, and yet there it sits — writ plain. ） I do not know if it was enough to achieve victory, but... it gave them a chance. （ softer — ） And I was able to tell my brother that I would love him always.
[By the time Itachi has finished speaking, Wei Wuxian's eyes are wet. He doesn't bother to wipe the tears way, letting them fall softly to the pillow beneath his cheek as a smile blooms across his face. It is so much better than the way Itachi's life had ended before.
He knows why he hadn't wanted Sasuke to know of his ruse, but it's relief he feels at the knowledge that the secret hadn't died with him. Maybe Itachi wasn't ready for the world to know his heart, Wei Wuxian understands why. Still, he's glad his brother found out the truth. (Even if he knows it's a sentiment he can't examine too closely for fear of opening one of his own wounds.)]
I'm glad you got to speak to Sasuke. [He breathes out quietly. Uchiha Itachi, still helping his brother and his village even after death. It's isn't surprising, but sometimes it still takes his legs out from under him just how good Itachi is. How full of love for his brother and loyalty to his village.
He loves him so much, his heart feels full enough to burst.]
（ he pushes himself up on one arm, and leans over to dab at those tears, thumbing them away with a whisper-soft touch. the press of his lips follows against one cheek. ）
You would love him, but those feelings would not be returned. He would think very poorly of you, and all the moreso for the fact you have stolen my attention. He never did quite master the art of sharing his elder brother. It was just the same with Shisui.
[He has a moment to smile softly and close his eyes at the press of lips to his cheek, and then he's raising a hand to cover his mouth as he bursts into quiet laughter at Itachi's direct assessment of his brother.]
Aiya, I think I'd love him all the more for it! [And perhaps tease him a little for it too.] I bet I could win him over eventually though. I'm vey persistent. [He winks and then reaches for one of Itachi's hands, grasping it in his own.]
I think I already love him a little [he admits, squeezing his hand]
（ he lets the man take his hand, and then uses it as a fulcrum by which to tug him across the bed and — neatly — half across his chest so they are splayed in a messy tangled x of limbs. ）
I believe he would be much harder to win over than I have been. You would have your work cut out for you.
[He is sentimental, but he doesn't have to go around saying it out loud like that! He laughs and allows himself to be tugged over, grinning and settling comfortably against Itachi's chest. He ducks to press a playful kiss to the underside of his jaw before meeting his eyes again.]
Mmm, I believe you. I think he'd be worth putting in the work though. He's your brother. [He pauses before adding] And I have at least a little experience with grumpy younger brother wrangling. [He winks. In truth he knows that if Sasuke were to ever appear on the station, the challenges he'd encounter trying to befriend him would be wildly different from the challenged he faced with Jiang Cheng, but it's still funny alright.]
（ not to, you know, kill the vibe, but as wei ying settles against him and itachi lifts a hand instinctually to card his hair — ）
Sasuke is still a kindhearted boy beneath the damage I did to him. You would be good for him. But I cannot say that I am displeased he has never come to the Ximilia.
[He hums softly in agreement. Whether it's because of what Sasuke's appearance would mean for Itachi or because his appearance here would indicate the desire to change a significant part of his life, he can understand the sentiment.]
It gets complicated and difficult, having people here from home. I understand. I've thought occasionally on what it would be like if Jiang Cheng was here and.. [He cringes.] His feelings would be understandable but disruptive to the mission, and it would be hard for him here.
（ that cringe is soothed away with a touch to his shoulder, bracing and calm. long fingers slip against the jutting wing of his collarbone, and his thumb presses into the anchoring muscle below. ）
I met her, you know. Your sister, in her time here.
（ but he has never brought it up before, and wei ying has never asked. he must have known the possibility existed that they had crossed paths. itachi predated him aboard the ximilia by some months, after all. but it is a difficult thing to say, i saw your sister's death. ）
[Instead of landing as a blow as he might have expected the words to land, Wei Wuxian finds himself inexplicably emotional at the thought. It passes after a moment and he gets control of himself, but the lingering emotion remains. The smile he levels Itachi with is a fragile thing, wonder, pain, and happiness all at once.]
I'd hoped you might have. [Because Itachi is right, it had crossed his mind. He wonders what Shijie had thought of him. She would have liked him, he thinks.] What was it like?
（ she was very nearly one of the first people he spoke to here. the situation may have been fraught, but there was something in her grace and gentleness and her concern, amidst everything, for him that had struck him as strange even then.
his gaze goes unfocused in memory. his hand stills against his friend's shoulder. ）
She was very kind. It... I was not accustomed to such things, then. I confess, I was suspicious of her motivations in being so.
[It makes his smile soften further to imagine it and he lets out a quiet huff of a laugh as he reaches out to catch one of Itachi's hands in his own.]
If she picked up on it, she wouldn't have minded it. It only would have made her consider that it was something you needed to experience more of. If she'd been here longer, I suspect she would have ended up cooking for you eventually. [He grows quiet for a while before he speaks again.]
She would have loved you if she'd remained. All she would have needed to see was that you made me happy. [It was all that would have mattered to her.]
（ being responsible of someone's happiness will never cease to alarm him. there is a weight to it, something that settles across his shoulders. but rather than feel like a burden, it's almost bolstering. his expression flickers to something imperceptible and then settles somewhere around fond. ）
I'm glad that I do.
（ in his darker moments, it's not necessarily something he can stand. but right now — it's enough. ）
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I'm sorry.
（ he can offer nothing else. ）
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After I've slept, will you tell me where you went?
[He pulls away as he asks, kicking off his shoes and discarding his shirt before he reaches for Itachi's hand again to tug him towards the bed.]
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Yes.
（ he leans in, presses a chaste kiss to the man's bare shoulder. ）
Rest.
（ there is a note of soft command there, something stirred up in his own innate talents. not fully genjutsu, but — a suggestion backed by that skill.
once the suggestion takes root, and the man's breathing evens out and deepens, he shifts slightly onto his back, one arm resting casually over his own stomach, the other behind his head providing a sort of cushion in the crux of his elbow. an edo tensei does not need to breathe except to speak, the pull of air into borrowed lungs is an entirely different feeling and sensation than his body's singular need. he is mindful of its functions, its foibles, in a way few people ever are. but where he expects it to grate against his awareness, he feels only peace.
he studies the ceiling, with its webbed drum set and various pictures had been cluttered enough to offend him once, and now it is... home.
what a curious word.
for most of his life, home has been a time more than a place, more than a person. home was the summer before shisui died, when he was still so certain that the fate of their clan could be diverted from disaster. it was the moments spent with sasuke — rare evenings when duty and guilt were not pressing down upon him, inexorable — where itachi was tasked with helping him with homework, or sharing icy treats at nakano lake. it was sitting still and patient before his mother as she worked blood out of his hair. it was playing shogi with his father as twilight kissed the sky and the whole world narrowed to the singular point of focus, the clack of tiles on lacquered wood.
he was already in anbu then. already tasked with the observation of his clan. but every once in a while, such things could be set aside. moments of freedom stolen like the frenetic, dying gasps of a drowning man.
and for the years after — nothing. a missing-nin has no home, and he had both expected not to know that peace again, and accepted that fate unflinching. he left the concept in the past, preserved by the sharingan's perfect recall, and had not once deluded himself that his life could end any way except how it had.
if he closes his eyes, he can still see sasuke's face. it blurs, at times, between the child and the man he became.
sasuke would not have liked wei ying, he thinks. just as he did not care for anyone who took the bulk of his attention elsewhere. perhaps he would even think him weak, a liability, or a fool. but... here, in this time, in this place...
mm.
once the man begins to stir and rise from wakefulness, whether it is minutes or hours later he has not genuinely kept track, lost in distant contemplation. firstly: ）
It wasn't a dream.
（ just to quell any panic. ）
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It wasn't so long ago that they lay in that cove in Golden Haven in much the same position they're in now, but it feels a lifetime ago since then. For a long moment Wei Wuxian remains that way, and when he shifts, it is only to let his hand slide from Itachi's cheek to his chest, allowing it to pause over his heart. He can't feel its beat over his clothes, but he feels warm and alive. It's enough.
Wei Wuxian leans forward to press a kiss of his own to Itachi's lips, chaste and unhurried. He is mildly aware of his sleep sour breath, and the combination of that awareness with his desire to keep looking at Itachi has him pulling away shortly.]
It wasn't a dream. [He repeats back, soft and satisfied.]
Are you okay?
[He doesn't know where Itachi had gone—if he'd been aware or felt anything at all. His eyes scan his form before rising again to hold his gaze.]
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（ it's a soft noise, toned to indicate an affirmative. if he happens to be bothered by the morning breath there is no indication of it. ）
Yourself?
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[Happiness implies a kind of emotional exuberance that he doesn't feel capable of in the moment, but peace has settled over him like a warm cloak, and contentment rests over every line of his body. He shifts closer and presses his lips to Itachi's shoulder and then to his chin, fleeting touches of intimacy more than anything made of passion.]
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'All right' will suffice for now. Did any new talismans come of my absence?
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No. I couldn't even tell you what I was working on. [He snorts softly and shakes his head.]
Nothing good ever comes from when I do my work like that. [He thinks of his time in the Burial Mounds with the Wen and the soul sacrifice summons, and wonders if Itachi will know what he means. Eager to shift the topic away from his relative uselessness over the last few days, his eyes flicker up to meet his friend's.]
What happened?
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wei ying is perhaps the only person aboard the station for whom he would consider divulging the story. not because he alone would understand, not because he alone would ask — but because itachi has always been private, and this... it is the sort of experience one must crack themselves open to share.
there is a shift of his weight, and then he reaches out to rest his and against the man's wrist, thumb stroking downwards against the vein. ）
I told you once of Edo Tensei. Do you recall?
（ is what he says, finally. ）
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And in remembering, his stomach tightens with anxiety, understanding dawning.
In response he nods, silently encouraging Itachi to continue.]
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It was not bad.
（ it is simply so much to tell. it would almost be easier, to just dump the memories of his experience into the man's mind, but... a part of him balks at it. it would involve being too seen. ）
There was a man who desired war against the five great shinobi nations. An Edo Tensei is nearly indestructible — it can only be sealed, not killed. I was resurrected along many members of Akatsuki, and any great shinobi of the past century for whom the right conditions could be met. When you are revived in this manner, your actions are not your own — but to be at the apex of your power, your mind must be. I was sent with another to combat and capture Uzumaki Naruto and a man named Killer Bee.
（ his gaze slips to the ceiling. he finds himself studying that drum set again. ）
However... before I died, I had imparted Shisui's eye to Naruto. He was not aware of what it meant. And as I knew Sasuke would take my eyes, I had... intended that the use of their Mangekyō would trigger Kotoamatsukami. I knew Sasuke was on a dangerous path, and that if he continued on it he would be at odds with Konoha. So, I had attempted to set up a failsafe to save his life and my village. Instead, that failsafe was used on my body in the throes of Edo Tensei, and I was able to break control from the man who had chosen to resurrect me.
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Itachi was brought back as a tool and it failed. He'd regained his autonomy.
Still, even the thought that someone sought to use him that way beyond death—as if he hadn't spent his whole life being used as a tool by different men—is enough to make his heart ache.]
Uzumaki Naruto. [He repeats the name out loud, searching his memory.] That was the boy who cared for your brother. The one you said might be able to change things.
[And Itachi had been raised to bring harm to him.
It failed, he reminds himself, and cools the embers of anger threatening to flare to life.]
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（ there is a soft fondness in his tone, and pride. naruto... the boy to change things indeed. ）
I sent him elsewhere, and then went after the one pulling the strings on Edo Tensei. And along that path, I happened across my brother. As it happens, after my death he was told the true nature of my deception by the man I knew as Madara — but who was, in truth, my cousin Obito.
（ the tangled uchiha web coming back to haunt him. he had met obito only once before he died, and his name was effectively scrubbed from the annals of history borne of that disgraceful failure. he had not even considered it as a possibility, and has not yet had a chance to unpack that deception in his own mind. that will be something to revisit later, when he is alone.
for now — ）
We fought together against the enemy. We won. I broke the jutsu. （ perhaps wei ying will note the language there. i. itachi has always been allergic to taking credit for affecting positive change, and yet there it sits — writ plain. ） I do not know if it was enough to achieve victory, but... it gave them a chance. （ softer — ） And I was able to tell my brother that I would love him always.
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He knows why he hadn't wanted Sasuke to know of his ruse, but it's relief he feels at the knowledge that the secret hadn't died with him. Maybe Itachi wasn't ready for the world to know his heart, Wei Wuxian understands why. Still, he's glad his brother found out the truth. (Even if he knows it's a sentiment he can't examine too closely for fear of opening one of his own wounds.)]
I'm glad you got to speak to Sasuke. [He breathes out quietly. Uchiha Itachi, still helping his brother and his village even after death. It's isn't surprising, but sometimes it still takes his legs out from under him just how good Itachi is. How full of love for his brother and loyalty to his village.
He loves him so much, his heart feels full enough to burst.]
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（ he pushes himself up on one arm, and leans over to dab at those tears, thumbing them away with a whisper-soft touch. the press of his lips follows against one cheek. ）
You would love him, but those feelings would not be returned. He would think very poorly of you, and all the moreso for the fact you have stolen my attention. He never did quite master the art of sharing his elder brother. It was just the same with Shisui.
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Aiya, I think I'd love him all the more for it! [And perhaps tease him a little for it too.] I bet I could win him over eventually though. I'm vey persistent. [He winks and then reaches for one of Itachi's hands, grasping it in his own.]
I think I already love him a little [he admits, squeezing his hand]
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（ he lets the man take his hand, and then uses it as a fulcrum by which to tug him across the bed and — neatly — half across his chest so they are splayed in a messy tangled x of limbs. ）
I believe he would be much harder to win over than I have been. You would have your work cut out for you.
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Mmm, I believe you. I think he'd be worth putting in the work though. He's your brother. [He pauses before adding] And I have at least a little experience with grumpy younger brother wrangling. [He winks. In truth he knows that if Sasuke were to ever appear on the station, the challenges he'd encounter trying to befriend him would be wildly different from the challenged he faced with Jiang Cheng, but it's still funny alright.]
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Sasuke is still a kindhearted boy beneath the damage I did to him. You would be good for him. But I cannot say that I am displeased he has never come to the Ximilia.
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It gets complicated and difficult, having people here from home. I understand. I've thought occasionally on what it would be like if Jiang Cheng was here and.. [He cringes.] His feelings would be understandable but disruptive to the mission, and it would be hard for him here.
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I met her, you know. Your sister, in her time here.
（ but he has never brought it up before, and wei ying has never asked. he must have known the possibility existed that they had crossed paths. itachi predated him aboard the ximilia by some months, after all. but it is a difficult thing to say, i saw your sister's death. ）
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I'd hoped you might have. [Because Itachi is right, it had crossed his mind. He wonders what Shijie had thought of him. She would have liked him, he thinks.] What was it like?
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his gaze goes unfocused in memory. his hand stills against his friend's shoulder. ）
She was very kind. It... I was not accustomed to such things, then. I confess, I was suspicious of her motivations in being so.
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If she picked up on it, she wouldn't have minded it. It only would have made her consider that it was something you needed to experience more of. If she'd been here longer, I suspect she would have ended up cooking for you eventually. [He grows quiet for a while before he speaks again.]
She would have loved you if she'd remained. All she would have needed to see was that you made me happy. [It was all that would have mattered to her.]
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I'm glad that I do.
（ in his darker moments, it's not necessarily something he can stand. but right now — it's enough. ）
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