๏ผ he has always been skilled at reading intent in one's actions and in their eyes. he sees that maelstrom of emotions and weathers it, and when it seems the man has regained the truth of himself, he releases him. steps back. it is with a faint incline of his head that he speaks. ๏ผ
However, even if you did it would not be a bother. ๏ผ a beat. then, with brusque utilitarianism — ๏ผ Do you wish to discuss your dream?
[He exhales long and hard, raising a hand to rub at his tired eyes and letting out a soft humorless laugh.]
I definitely don't. [Sometimes he thinks it might be good for him to talk about his nightmares or to talk about everything else that weighs him down, but most of the time the idea of doing that makes him want to be sick. He sighs again and pulls his feet crisscross in front of him.]
Thank you for asking. And for not rolling me out of your room when I fell asleep here. [A tiny smile quirks his lips, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.]
I'm not like this all the time. I overdid it on the last mission. Cultivating resentful energy, um. It has an impact. [He gestures vaguely to his body.]
What, in all our association, has lead you to believe I require justification of such a thing?
๏ผ it's said with very mild annoyance, reprimand for the explanation he neither wanted or needed. the man is not to blame for having a nightmare. he only cares inasmuch as wei wuxian is — a friend. ๏ผ
If you require rest to restore yourself, you should rest.
[He snorts lightly, and this time a little more real humor bleeds into it.]
Hey. [The word is teasing in its reprimand.] Maybe I just hate giving you the impression that I'm always this...[He stops himself. Weak.]
Anyway, I won't be able to sleep again tonight. [Which means he should probably get out of Itachi's hair, but if he's honest with himself, he doesn't want to go. Not yet at least, the company is nice.] Do you plan to sleep at all?
๏ผ wei wuxian may not have said the word aloud, but he can make inferences. undisciplined, perhaps, or weak. would he stoop so lowly as to think it pathetic? difficult to say. he is someone accustomed to being useful, who expects to be discarded when he is not, and to whom open vulnerability in this way may as well be a sentence of death.
but what they have built is stronger than that. surpasses it. something born of blood and betrayal has lead them here. itachi has always known himself to have the strength of severance, he has systematically disassembled every bond that was ever foundational to his own nature. but he is learning that to accept those bonds, to nurture them — it takes a different sort of fortitude.
perhaps it is one they both need practice in. ๏ผ
I do not require it. Would you like a game of shogi?
[In the daylight hours when the world is loud and bright around him, it's easy for Wei Wuxian to hide from the kind of sincerity that attributes some sort of intrinsic value to him. With most people he can crack a joke or weave around it. Itachi makes it harder. Wei Wuxian knows he sees his denials and dodges with clarity, and he's learned to endure and wait for a subject change. (It made it harder once he'd realized that denying himself in those moments was also denying his friend's feelings and often gratitude.)
Still, even with Itachi he can't look at those words directly. Enduring is not the same as confronting. Waiting for something to be over is not the same as acceptance.
But in the middle of the night, Wei Wuxian is weaker. More vulnerable. His guard is down and it's harder to hide from the kinds of words that always threaten to take him apart. Itachi calling him friend isn't revolutionary. It's not even the first time. But something about the way he does it now, with such firmness, like he's seeing through Wei Wuxian's denials of himself makes a lump form in his throat.
He swallows around it and gets himself under control, nodding silently and moving to the edge of the bed.]
๏ผ he says nothing further, simply retrieves the board and its gamepieces. rather than insist that wei wuxian leave the bed, itachi simply puts the board down in its center, and then arranges himself along one side of it.
the pieces are placed down with gentle clacks of laquered kaba wood, and once everything is arranged, he simply gestures for wei wuxian to start. that is not tradition — he is foregoing furigoma — but then, they both have a tendency to buck such things, do they not? ๏ผ
[It's a while later when Wei Wuxian is groaning dramatically and ceding the game to Itachi. There's only so much that can be attributed to his still being a newer player, but he's getting better at least, evidenced by the length of their games. He stretches his arms up behind him and then helps Itachi to begin gathering the pieces to put them away.]
We'll have to play another round of Go soon. It's been a while.
[He's quiet again and then.] Thanks for the game. It helped.
๏ผ he looks at wei wuxian askance as he collects the last of the pieces and sets the board back in its drawer. thanks has never sat easily with him — and wei wuxian does it so often when he is only ever treating him with the barest minimum of decency that it scathes. it does trouble him that someone so compassionate and kind would not be accustomed to it in turn.
after an inscrutable look, he turns his attention elsewhere. ๏ผ
[There's something in that look that makes Wei Wuxian's skin prickle, and he isn't sure if he wants to disappear from that gaze, or stand straighter and demand what it's for. He chooses neither because the former would be foolish, and he isn't up to the latter when all Itachi has done is show him kindness.]
It's not nothing to me. [He clarifies with a lopsided smile, and then shifts on the bed to watch his friend.]
Wen Qing knew how to inflict dreamless sleep with her needles. I didn't let her use it on me often, it always made me sleep for so long and I had to be aware and ready to fight all the time. But when I'd gone without sleep for long enough, she wouldn't give me a choice.
I was always so mad at her for it. [He laughs softly under his breath.]
There's very little I wouldn't give to have her here with her needles now.
๏ผ he knows, that what wei wuxian misses is his friend, of whom he has always spoken of in the past tense, and not the sleep she could give him. but he cannot help that she is gone, and so the only thing that remains is — ๏ผ
I could do similarly. If you wish to rest peacefully.
๏ผ he does not wish to explain genjutsu at any length. only blue and gwen have any notion of it, and he was careful not to explain it overmuch. but wei wuxian... asks more questions than either of them are naturally prone to, and he expects he may have to delve more into the dark side of it with him than is his natural tendency. ๏ผ
[He lets out a little huff, shaking his head back and forth lightly.]
No, I'm alright. I don't want to sleep anymore. It's nice being awake when everyone else is asleep. I've always worked well at this time.
If you have any paper I can use, I might just do some work and let you get back to...[He pauses and tilts his head.] What were you doing before I woke up?
๏ผ wordless, he takes out a sketchbook from his desk. the first few pages are the sort of starkly utilitarian thing that wei wuxian might expect from itachi — designs for weapons, some notes for jutsu creation he has been working on. everything is meticulous, neat and so orderly it's as if it was drawn by grid rather than freehand, and no matter the style of script he uses, all of his letters are pitch-perfect every time, identical to one-another.
but the third page is a series of sketches. he'd taken up the habit in vrefesea as part of his cover, and had found it was something he... enjoyed. art for its own sake rather than with an eye towards the perfect replication of something by way of the sharingan. deidara's obnoxious enthusiasm aside, he'd never had much exposure to the concept, but he has found that it is a pleasant way to fill the occasional afternoon.
the indulgence is thus: sketches of two boys, one nearly a decade older than the other. the older one has his arm slung around the younger and is beaming at the 'camera', while the younger one looks embarrassed and slightly put-upon, looking off to one side with his mouth set in a moue. but something about the curve of his baby scowl makes it seem as if he's secretly enjoying the attention.
other sketches: the older boy in profile, looking up at something he did not trouble himself to sketch. the younger boy playing in a puddle, catching frogs.
the bottom of the page is torn away with frightful precision, the only sign of what it may have been the heavy indentations of his drawing implements on the following page, as if he had scratched something out.
itachi does not seem to mind his looking, and makes no effort to hand it to him turned to a fresh page. he simply sets it and a tray of various inks and brushes down on the desk immediately beside the bed, well within easy reach. ๏ผ
[A casual 'thanks' get stuck in his throat at the sight of the drawings, and his eyes flicker up to Itachi's for a second—checking to make sure he knows what he's handed him—before he allows himself to actually look. He's obviously never seen either of the figures before, but it isn't hard to figure out who they might be.
Sasuke and Shisui. The younger brother Itachi left behind and the best friend—zhiji he thinks to himself—that Itachi had lost. His fingers hover carefully over the images, close but not touching, and his lips form a smile at the look on Sasuke's face. Truly, across all universes, siblings are the same.
He does not compliment the skill with which the images were rendered. Says nothing at all out loud, only admires each page for several moments. People have made lovely comments about his own drawings of a-Yuan and the Dafan Wen, and while it doesn't bother him, it's a strange thing to accept compliments when he cares nothing at all for the skill, and only for the subjects. So he holds his tongue and is silently grateful for Itachi's trust with this, committing each detail of Itachi's loved ones to memory.
Eventually he comes to an empty page, and after a moment of hesitation, he sets aside his idea to work on a talisman design and instead moves to the desk and begins to sketch.
It takes a while, a couple of hours actually as they both sit in companionable silence and work through the late night and pre dawn hours. In the morning, Wei Wuxian closes the sketchbook and sets it on Itachi's bed, turning down Itachi's offer for him to stay and sleep, and heading out at the same time that Itachi takes off to his training.
He doesn't know if Itachi will appreciate what he's done, but it's an easy thing to take the page out if he doesn't want it among the pictures of his family and friends from home. Whether he does or not, when Itachi gets around to looking through the book, he'll find an addition in the form of a carefully inked sketch of Gwen, Itachi, and Wei Wuxian all sitting together.
It's not a specific moment, though it's certainly reflective of their time spent enjoying each other's company. In it, the three of them are sitting on a grassy knoll, Wei Wuxian and Gwen grinning brightly, and Itachi with the more subdued but still visible smile that the other two have both glimpsed from time to time. They're close and not touching, but the body language between them speaks of intimacy and affection. It's a sweet drawing that speaks of the friendship between the three of them and one that Wei Wuxian hopes might bring Itachi a smile.]
๏ผ he is too private by far to frame it, or put it on display, and he does in fact remove it from the sketchpad — though perhaps not for the reason wei wuxian might guess.
instead, if one were ever to idly peruse his small but dedicated collection of books, they might find the picture painstakingly preserved, pressed like flowers between two poems. ๏ผ
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
๏ผ he has always been skilled at reading intent in one's actions and in their eyes. he sees that maelstrom of emotions and weathers it, and when it seems the man has regained the truth of himself, he releases him. steps back. it is with a faint incline of his head that he speaks. ๏ผ
However, even if you did it would not be a bother. ๏ผ a beat. then, with brusque utilitarianism — ๏ผ Do you wish to discuss your dream?
no subject
I definitely don't. [Sometimes he thinks it might be good for him to talk about his nightmares or to talk about everything else that weighs him down, but most of the time the idea of doing that makes him want to be sick. He sighs again and pulls his feet crisscross in front of him.]
Thank you for asking. And for not rolling me out of your room when I fell asleep here. [A tiny smile quirks his lips, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.]
I'm not like this all the time. I overdid it on the last mission. Cultivating resentful energy, um. It has an impact. [He gestures vaguely to his body.]
no subject
๏ผ it's said with very mild annoyance, reprimand for the explanation he neither wanted or needed. the man is not to blame for having a nightmare. he only cares inasmuch as wei wuxian is — a friend. ๏ผ
If you require rest to restore yourself, you should rest.
no subject
Hey. [The word is teasing in its reprimand.] Maybe I just hate giving you the impression that I'm always this...[He stops himself. Weak.]
Anyway, I won't be able to sleep again tonight. [Which means he should probably get out of Itachi's hair, but if he's honest with himself, he doesn't want to go. Not yet at least, the company is nice.] Do you plan to sleep at all?
no subject
๏ผ wei wuxian may not have said the word aloud, but he can make inferences. undisciplined, perhaps, or weak. would he stoop so lowly as to think it pathetic? difficult to say. he is someone accustomed to being useful, who expects to be discarded when he is not, and to whom open vulnerability in this way may as well be a sentence of death.
but what they have built is stronger than that. surpasses it. something born of blood and betrayal has lead them here. itachi has always known himself to have the strength of severance, he has systematically disassembled every bond that was ever foundational to his own nature. but he is learning that to accept those bonds, to nurture them — it takes a different sort of fortitude.
perhaps it is one they both need practice in. ๏ผ
I do not require it. Would you like a game of shogi?
no subject
Still, even with Itachi he can't look at those words directly. Enduring is not the same as confronting. Waiting for something to be over is not the same as acceptance.
But in the middle of the night, Wei Wuxian is weaker. More vulnerable. His guard is down and it's harder to hide from the kinds of words that always threaten to take him apart. Itachi calling him friend isn't revolutionary. It's not even the first time. But something about the way he does it now, with such firmness, like he's seeing through Wei Wuxian's denials of himself makes a lump form in his throat.
He swallows around it and gets himself under control, nodding silently and moving to the edge of the bed.]
That would be nice.
no subject
the pieces are placed down with gentle clacks of laquered kaba wood, and once everything is arranged, he simply gestures for wei wuxian to start. that is not tradition — he is foregoing furigoma — but then, they both have a tendency to buck such things, do they not? ๏ผ
no subject
We'll have to play another round of Go soon. It's been a while.
[He's quiet again and then.] Thanks for the game. It helped.
no subject
after an inscrutable look, he turns his attention elsewhere. ๏ผ
It's nothing.
no subject
It's not nothing to me. [He clarifies with a lopsided smile, and then shifts on the bed to watch his friend.]
Wen Qing knew how to inflict dreamless sleep with her needles. I didn't let her use it on me often, it always made me sleep for so long and I had to be aware and ready to fight all the time. But when I'd gone without sleep for long enough, she wouldn't give me a choice.
I was always so mad at her for it. [He laughs softly under his breath.]
There's very little I wouldn't give to have her here with her needles now.
no subject
I could do similarly. If you wish to rest peacefully.
no subject
With needles? [He hasn't forgotten their conversation on the last mission.]
no subject
๏ผ he does not wish to explain genjutsu at any length. only blue and gwen have any notion of it, and he was careful not to explain it overmuch. but wei wuxian... asks more questions than either of them are naturally prone to, and he expects he may have to delve more into the dark side of it with him than is his natural tendency. ๏ผ
no subject
No, I'm alright. I don't want to sleep anymore. It's nice being awake when everyone else is asleep. I've always worked well at this time.
If you have any paper I can use, I might just do some work and let you get back to...[He pauses and tilts his head.] What were you doing before I woke up?
no subject
but the third page is a series of sketches. he'd taken up the habit in vrefesea as part of his cover, and had found it was something he... enjoyed. art for its own sake rather than with an eye towards the perfect replication of something by way of the sharingan. deidara's obnoxious enthusiasm aside, he'd never had much exposure to the concept, but he has found that it is a pleasant way to fill the occasional afternoon.
the indulgence is thus: sketches of two boys, one nearly a decade older than the other. the older one has his arm slung around the younger and is beaming at the 'camera', while the younger one looks embarrassed and slightly put-upon, looking off to one side with his mouth set in a moue. but something about the curve of his baby scowl makes it seem as if he's secretly enjoying the attention.
other sketches: the older boy in profile, looking up at something he did not trouble himself to sketch. the younger boy playing in a puddle, catching frogs.
the bottom of the page is torn away with frightful precision, the only sign of what it may have been the heavy indentations of his drawing implements on the following page, as if he had scratched something out.
itachi does not seem to mind his looking, and makes no effort to hand it to him turned to a fresh page. he simply sets it and a tray of various inks and brushes down on the desk immediately beside the bed, well within easy reach. ๏ผ
I was reviewing our last mission.
no subject
Sasuke and Shisui. The younger brother Itachi left behind and the best friend—zhiji he thinks to himself—that Itachi had lost. His fingers hover carefully over the images, close but not touching, and his lips form a smile at the look on Sasuke's face. Truly, across all universes, siblings are the same.
He does not compliment the skill with which the images were rendered. Says nothing at all out loud, only admires each page for several moments. People have made lovely comments about his own drawings of a-Yuan and the Dafan Wen, and while it doesn't bother him, it's a strange thing to accept compliments when he cares nothing at all for the skill, and only for the subjects. So he holds his tongue and is silently grateful for Itachi's trust with this, committing each detail of Itachi's loved ones to memory.
Eventually he comes to an empty page, and after a moment of hesitation, he sets aside his idea to work on a talisman design and instead moves to the desk and begins to sketch.
It takes a while, a couple of hours actually as they both sit in companionable silence and work through the late night and pre dawn hours. In the morning, Wei Wuxian closes the sketchbook and sets it on Itachi's bed, turning down Itachi's offer for him to stay and sleep, and heading out at the same time that Itachi takes off to his training.
He doesn't know if Itachi will appreciate what he's done, but it's an easy thing to take the page out if he doesn't want it among the pictures of his family and friends from home. Whether he does or not, when Itachi gets around to looking through the book, he'll find an addition in the form of a carefully inked sketch of Gwen, Itachi, and Wei Wuxian all sitting together.
It's not a specific moment, though it's certainly reflective of their time spent enjoying each other's company. In it, the three of them are sitting on a grassy knoll, Wei Wuxian and Gwen grinning brightly, and Itachi with the more subdued but still visible smile that the other two have both glimpsed from time to time. They're close and not touching, but the body language between them speaks of intimacy and affection. It's a sweet drawing that speaks of the friendship between the three of them and one that Wei Wuxian hopes might bring Itachi a smile.]
no subject
instead, if one were ever to idly peruse his small but dedicated collection of books, they might find the picture painstakingly preserved, pressed like flowers between two poems. ๏ผ
ใ
ใ
ใช
ใ
ใ
ใ
ใป
ใ
ใพ
ใ
ใ
ใ
ใฎ
ใถ
ใซ
ใ
ใ
่ป
็ซฏ
ใฎ
ๆท
ใ
ใฒ
ใ
ใ
ใ
ใ
ใ
ใ
ใ
ใ
ใ
ใก
ใซ
ใ
ใ
ใ
ๅ
ใฏ
ใพ
ใ
ใ
ใ
ใฆ
ใต