[ she takes in his appearance without a word. her only external response is the downturn to the corners of her mouth. except for the dark shadows under her eyes, gwen, by contrast, appears perfectly healthy. she escaped the destruction of the realms with only minor physical hurts, and the symbiote took care of those the same day.
of course, her physical health was never the one in question.
the symbiote, wary, itches under her skin, but gwen steps through without hesitation when invited. quietly, she accepts the offer, settling near the teapot. she fiddles with the ends of her sleeves until they half-cover her hands. ]
So… [ she begins slowly, ] how stupid a question would it be to ask how you've been?
（ there's a slight edge to his tone as he says it — weary reprimand for her self-flagellation — even as he pours the tea. how he manages it so elegantly with only one functioning arm is anyone's guess. she gets the first cup, and then he pours one for himself, and sits. he does not avoid her gaze, nor flinch away from it if met. he's as stoic and unmovable as ever. ）
I am adequate. （ a pause. he rests his fingers over his cup, steam gathering in condensation against his palm over it, and then he lets his hand fall away. ） If you are here to inquire as to whether or not I meant what I said, I did. I understand that my word means very little to you right now, so if you require some measure of proof I will provide it.
（ casually talking about letting her kill him, nbd. ）
[ for a moment, gwen wonders if she zoned out of a chunk of conversation. her psychosis-induced confusion cleared within hours of that first, beautiful pill; the hallucinations, visual first, then auditory, gone by the next morning. she will remain on the medication for a while yet to make sure they stay gone, but her mind is clearer than it has been in too long. which makes her wonder what she missed here.
the symbiote clues her in. venom shares its memory of his promise to them: that they could kill him once all of the orbs have been collected and their bargains honored.
gwen returns the cup to the table. ]
Oh, my God.
[ the sound is slightly muffled from her hands covering her face. her shoulders shake. a strange noise falls from her mouth. laughter. she lowers her hands, looks at itachi—
—and immediately has to look away, doubled over from her laugh. ]
（ what, that's a perfectly acceptable level of melodrama for the shinobi world. in fact, that's practically sedate and restrained compared to some of the proclamations that have come from the mouth of an uchiha.
he just raises an eyebrow at her, faint bemusement the sole exception to his customary stoicism and... waits?
[ sometimes lapsing into snickers, gwen manages to control herself enough to sit up straight. her hood, which sat lopsided, slips off her head. her hair is clean and tousled and no longer adorned with perfect beach-ready waves. she likes it better this way. ]
You're serious. Of course, you are, [ she answers herself.
it's itachi. he would treat that like an oath written in blood. she wraps her hands around the cup again, feeling her fingers warm against the ceramic. to be polite, she takes a sip. fuck him, he makes an amazing pot of tea. she sets the cup back down delicately. ]
I came here to apologize, actually. [ she nods at his shoulder. ] For that.
[ he is a bitch, and she is not taking that back. ]
（ it is spectacularly clear that, whatever he had expected her to say or do, apologizing was not one of them. his expression is briefly cut by surprise and then goes the same flat, uncanny blankness that had adorned it when he handed them over to angrial. in a way, this feels more like a trap than if she had put a knife to his throat. ）
Why? It was merited. I would not have begrudged you worse.
Oh, you were one hundred percent asking for it. Jury might have deliberated on whether you getting beaten round the head with your own severed arm was too much. [ but only then. and the decision would not have been immediate and possibly not unanimous.
the levity fades. unlike his, her expression is open. she carries her heart on her sleeve, always has. no matter how many times it's wielded against her, she refuses to hide it.
her eyes never drop from itachi's. ]
But that doesn't mean it was right. You hurt me so I hurt you… What does either of us gain from that? Hate and resentment until the day comes I kill you? [ a ruined body and a fractured mind. ] You'll be dead…and I'll be left to carry that weight.
[ quietly, she confesses, ] I worked too hard to break out of one cycle of violence. And I don't want Venom to learn that only a violent act can answer another.
That's why I'm here. I don't expect us to be friends, Itachi. But I would like us to not be enemies.
（ it isn't the first time that he's really stuck his hands in the entrails of what he did to sasuke and tried to divine from that red, ruined mess if his actions were for good or ill, but it is the first time that he hears his own hopes for sasuke echoed back at him. he wanted his brother to kill him, and that he would find peace and let go, and live. but sasuke loved him so much — he thinks less that he taught his brother to hate, and more that he taught him how to corrupt love.
you'll be dead, and i'll be left. she does not know how deeply that cuts, nor how loud the echo.
nothing turned out right, in the end.
he closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them he is looking down at his ring, which he turns idly with his thumb. he is not avoiding her gaze, exactly, for he looks up soon thereafter. he's simply stepped somewhere else in his mind for a time, and lately returned.
there is no cover to keep, here. there is no safety in secrecy, not the way his life necessitated back home. there is just gwen and her gentle heart. ）
I would not consider you an enemy regardless of circumstance.
（ his voice is very quiet. somewhere during the course of this conversation, he forgot he had intended to be cruel. ）
[ that's something. more than gwen expected when the urge seized her and she found herself out her door before she could think the action through. they are not friends. friendship demands trust. she put her trust in him, even after he warned her. she recognizes their talk atop the ferris wheel for what it was now. (thanks, hindsight.) neither can they simply step back to acquaintances; both offered too much of themselves to mean nothing now.
the hurt she feels even now is proof enough.
what does she do with someone like itachi? someone who acts not out of malice, but out of his own twisted and bleeding love? their circumstances will always demand a certain ruthlessness, a certain callousness. the orbs thrive on chaos—what better source than the wants and whims of the human heart?
her own is a bruised, strangled organ. it yearns. it fears. it bleeds now and always for her friend.
it is so much easier to forgive itachi his actions, than it is to forgive herself hers. ]
Here. [ she holds her fist out, pinky finger outstretched. ]
You said I could ask for proof. [ she wiggles her pinky. ] This is all I need.
（ he blinks at her gesture. it's... odd, to consider that yubikiri is something that their worlds have in common, when so many other things differ, but it's a small price. wordless, he pulls a knife from the pouch that is all but permanently etched to his thigh. he is ambidextrous, but right-hand dominant — yet, with the nerve damage from the burns, and the damage to his shoulder from venom, he would prefer to contain the damage to only one side of his body.
he reaches up, unties the sling at his nape and flexes his fingers faintly before he slots the knife between ring finger and pinkie and —
is abruptly on the floor with the wind well and truly knocked out of him, shoulder alight with pain so overwhelming he actually grunts with the shock of it. his left hand, fingers still wrapped around the hilt of the kunai, is pinned by his wrist to the floor, and gwen is above him. ）
[ the time between when itachi places the blade against his skin and when gwen tackles him out of his seat can only be measured in microseconds, but she feels like she aged an entire calendar year. ]
What are you doing?!
[ in a minute, she will realize she is a) straddling itachi and b) possibly fucked up his shoulder, again (and in that order), but right now she would really like to know what the fuck is wrong with this guy. ]
（ the look he gives her is... surprisingly emotive, for him. too bad it's nothing else so much as indignant. perhaps the pain (and his deliberate choice to forego narcotics for it) has briefly loosed his grip on his ironclad self control. ）
[ her mouth drops open. she can't even enjoy that she managed to get an ACTUAL EMOTION to show on his face as she's rendered half incoherent in shock. ]
When the— What— I asked for this!
[ gwen forces him drop the kunai (never has she been so happy for super-strength), brings his uninjured hand around, wraps her pinky finger around his, then shows him their joined hands. ]
It's called a pinky promise, not "give me your fucking finger"!
[ suddenly aware that they are on the floor, gwen on top of him in a not very appropriate position, she rolls off him. her elbow hits something soft. a cupboard is open, spiders festooned on the doors. more sit on a pink plush blobfish, clearly stolen out of its hiding place.
in this moment, host and symbiote are in full agreement.
（ she gets, for her efforts, a very softly wheezed-out ow. ）
I — please stop, this is undignified.
（ local man has never done a fun thing in his entire life, please stop hitting him with a plush toy even if he is categorically refusing to actually defend himself??? ）
[ somewhat petulant, she gives him one more smack (avoiding his bad shoulder as she does) before letting him be. ]
For someone so smart, you really are so fucking stupid.
[ she drops the blobfish on her lap, her arms crossing over it. out the corner of her eye, she catches sight of venom swarming his kunai and dragging it away under his bed.
this is her life. why is this her life? ]
God. Okay. Full disclosure, no fucking about.
[ she turns around so she is facing itachi. her countenance would be a little more severe if she was not holding a frowning blobfish. ]
I don't want to kill you. I don't want to hurt you. And I don't want you to hurt yourself because you think I asked you to. I'm not. [ she looks itachi in the eye when she swears, ] I never would.
（ he, too, has an eye on that mobile kunai, but its destination proves ultimately unimportant in the face of what she says.
he has never seen any manner of justice that was not retributive. an eye for a literal eye has always been the way of his world. the uchiha's role in history is written in blood and pain and the curse of hatred that subsumes all but the best of them.
being before someone he has brought to willful harm, and hearing her say that she wants him neither hurt nor dead is dizzying, and for a moment there is nothing else in the room but her, the pinnacle of all attention. he feels cold in a way that has nothing to do with fever and breathing becomes an act of suffocation, tortuous and slow. ice entombs his chest, and it is an act of will by which he very deliberately takes the ends of his sling and reties them, focusing on the deft one-handed knot.
little by little, he steps back into himself. it takes longer than he likes, but it is still a matter of seconds. ）
Very well.
（ it is said placidly. tolerant. he accepts her verdict because arguing would only hurt her further, and he has made his choice not to be party to that again. ）
[ 'very well.' maybe he used up the whole of his allotted emotional expression for the day when she tackled him. at this point, nothing can shock her.
jokes aside, she can sense she's reaching the end of her visit (if she hasn't overstayed her welcome already.) wordlessly, she hands off the blobfish— ] Back where you found it. [ —and watches for a moment to make sure the symbiote does as told. it returns to her in the form of a black ribbon, which wraps around her arm and sinks through her sleeve, leaving no sign of itself.
rising off the floor, she moves toward the door before swiveling on her heel and returning to the table and their abandoned tea. ]
This is really good, [ she explains apologetically.
by this point, the tea has cooled so she polishes off what is left and leaves the cup on the table.
at the door, she pauses. ]
I hope you recover quickly. [ she doesn't say she's sorry again, but it's obvious in her tone. her smile is a tiny, tremulous thing, here and gone. ] See you around, Itachi.
（ he does not know how he finds his voice, only that he does. ）
The person I spoke of. The one I failed to trust. His name is Sasuke.
（ he has not spoken it aloud once, in all his time here. yet, he has nothing else of himself that is worth giving to her but that, the best and brightest part of him, the only thing not lost to the fire. ）
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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of course, her physical health was never the one in question.
the symbiote, wary, itches under her skin, but gwen steps through without hesitation when invited. quietly, she accepts the offer, settling near the teapot. she fiddles with the ends of her sleeves until they half-cover her hands. ]
So… [ she begins slowly, ] how stupid a question would it be to ask how you've been?
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（ there's a slight edge to his tone as he says it — weary reprimand for her self-flagellation — even as he pours the tea. how he manages it so elegantly with only one functioning arm is anyone's guess. she gets the first cup, and then he pours one for himself, and sits. he does not avoid her gaze, nor flinch away from it if met. he's as stoic and unmovable as ever. ）
I am adequate. （ a pause. he rests his fingers over his cup, steam gathering in condensation against his palm over it, and then he lets his hand fall away. ） If you are here to inquire as to whether or not I meant what I said, I did. I understand that my word means very little to you right now, so if you require some measure of proof I will provide it.
（ casually talking about letting her kill him, nbd. ）
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the symbiote clues her in. venom shares its memory of his promise to them: that they could kill him once all of the orbs have been collected and their bargains honored.
gwen returns the cup to the table. ]
Oh, my God.
[ the sound is slightly muffled from her hands covering her face. her shoulders shake. a strange noise falls from her mouth. laughter. she lowers her hands, looks at itachi—
—and immediately has to look away, doubled over from her laugh. ]
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he just raises an eyebrow at her, faint bemusement the sole exception to his customary stoicism and... waits?
apparently.
drinking his tea. ）
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You're serious. Of course, you are, [ she answers herself.
it's itachi. he would treat that like an oath written in blood. she wraps her hands around the cup again, feeling her fingers warm against the ceramic. to be polite, she takes a sip. fuck him, he makes an amazing pot of tea. she sets the cup back down delicately. ]
I came here to apologize, actually. [ she nods at his shoulder. ] For that.
[ he is a bitch, and she is not taking that back. ]
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Why? It was merited. I would not have begrudged you worse.
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the levity fades. unlike his, her expression is open. she carries her heart on her sleeve, always has. no matter how many times it's wielded against her, she refuses to hide it.
her eyes never drop from itachi's. ]
But that doesn't mean it was right. You hurt me so I hurt you… What does either of us gain from that? Hate and resentment until the day comes I kill you? [ a ruined body and a fractured mind. ] You'll be dead…and I'll be left to carry that weight.
[ quietly, she confesses, ] I worked too hard to break out of one cycle of violence. And I don't want Venom to learn that only a violent act can answer another.
That's why I'm here. I don't expect us to be friends, Itachi. But I would like us to not be enemies.
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you'll be dead, and i'll be left. she does not know how deeply that cuts, nor how loud the echo.
nothing turned out right, in the end.
he closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them he is looking down at his ring, which he turns idly with his thumb. he is not avoiding her gaze, exactly, for he looks up soon thereafter. he's simply stepped somewhere else in his mind for a time, and lately returned.
there is no cover to keep, here. there is no safety in secrecy, not the way his life necessitated back home. there is just gwen and her gentle heart. ）
I would not consider you an enemy regardless of circumstance.
（ his voice is very quiet. somewhere during the course of this conversation, he forgot he had intended to be cruel. ）
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the hurt she feels even now is proof enough.
what does she do with someone like itachi? someone who acts not out of malice, but out of his own twisted and bleeding love? their circumstances will always demand a certain ruthlessness, a certain callousness. the orbs thrive on chaos—what better source than the wants and whims of the human heart?
her own is a bruised, strangled organ. it yearns. it fears. it bleeds now and always for her friend.
it is so much easier to forgive itachi his actions, than it is to forgive herself hers. ]
Here. [ she holds her fist out, pinky finger outstretched. ]
You said I could ask for proof. [ she wiggles her pinky. ] This is all I need.
he crossed the streams
he reaches up, unties the sling at his nape and flexes his fingers faintly before he slots the knife between ring finger and pinkie and —
is abruptly on the floor with the wind well and truly knocked out of him, shoulder alight with pain so overwhelming he actually grunts with the shock of it. his left hand, fingers still wrapped around the hilt of the kunai, is pinned by his wrist to the floor, and gwen is above him. ）
get ready
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What are you doing?!
[ in a minute, she will realize she is a) straddling itachi and b) possibly fucked up his shoulder, again (and in that order), but right now she would really like to know what the fuck is wrong with this guy. ]
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I was doing as you asked.
（ like any normal person??? would??? smh??? ）
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When the— What— I asked for this!
[ gwen forces him drop the kunai (never has she been so happy for super-strength), brings his uninjured hand around, wraps her pinky finger around his, then shows him their joined hands. ]
It's called a pinky promise, not "give me your fucking finger"!
[ suddenly aware that they are on the floor, gwen on top of him in a not very appropriate position, she rolls off him. her elbow hits something soft. a cupboard is open, spiders festooned on the doors. more sit on a pink plush blobfish, clearly stolen out of its hiding place.
in this moment, host and symbiote are in full agreement.
she smacks itachi with the toy. ]
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I — please stop, this is undignified.
（ local man has never done a fun thing in his entire life, please stop hitting him with a plush toy even if he is categorically refusing to actually defend himself??? ）
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For someone so smart, you really are so fucking stupid.
[ she drops the blobfish on her lap, her arms crossing over it. out the corner of her eye, she catches sight of venom swarming his kunai and dragging it away under his bed.
this is her life. why is this her life? ]
God. Okay. Full disclosure, no fucking about.
[ she turns around so she is facing itachi. her countenance would be a little more severe if she was not holding a frowning blobfish. ]
I don't want to kill you. I don't want to hurt you. And I don't want you to hurt yourself because you think I asked you to. I'm not. [ she looks itachi in the eye when she swears, ] I never would.
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he has never seen any manner of justice that was not retributive. an eye for a literal eye has always been the way of his world. the uchiha's role in history is written in blood and pain and the curse of hatred that subsumes all but the best of them.
being before someone he has brought to willful harm, and hearing her say that she wants him neither hurt nor dead is dizzying, and for a moment there is nothing else in the room but her, the pinnacle of all attention. he feels cold in a way that has nothing to do with fever and breathing becomes an act of suffocation, tortuous and slow. ice entombs his chest, and it is an act of will by which he very deliberately takes the ends of his sling and reties them, focusing on the deft one-handed knot.
little by little, he steps back into himself. it takes longer than he likes, but it is still a matter of seconds. ）
Very well.
（ it is said placidly. tolerant. he accepts her verdict because arguing would only hurt her further, and he has made his choice not to be party to that again. ）
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jokes aside, she can sense she's reaching the end of her visit (if she hasn't overstayed her welcome already.) wordlessly, she hands off the blobfish— ] Back where you found it. [ —and watches for a moment to make sure the symbiote does as told. it returns to her in the form of a black ribbon, which wraps around her arm and sinks through her sleeve, leaving no sign of itself.
rising off the floor, she moves toward the door before swiveling on her heel and returning to the table and their abandoned tea. ]
This is really good, [ she explains apologetically.
by this point, the tea has cooled so she polishes off what is left and leaves the cup on the table.
at the door, she pauses. ]
I hope you recover quickly. [ she doesn't say she's sorry again, but it's obvious in her tone. her smile is a tiny, tremulous thing, here and gone. ] See you around, Itachi.
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（ he does not know how he finds his voice, only that he does. ）
The person I spoke of. The one I failed to trust. His name is Sasuke.
（ he has not spoken it aloud once, in all his time here. yet, he has nothing else of himself that is worth giving to her but that, the best and brightest part of him, the only thing not lost to the fire. ）
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He must be remarkable.
[ her hand lifts in a little wave, and she steps through the door. it slides shut behind her. ]