（ so, then, the version of blue he met in that very first dream must have been the one for whom ganymede was still fresh. a few things slot into perspective the way pieces of a puzzle begin to resemble a picture when enough are laid in sequence.
he has managed so far, mostly, to avoid feeling... protective of others here. he knows it to be his downfall, that urge to stand between those he knows and danger. he does not care for blue, not exactly — but there is something. he is drawn to him, inescapably, the way uchiha are drawn to hatred and power.
and yet —
something alights in him like a raven taking wing — sorrow and grief and understanding that yawns like a bottomless well. ）
Does it trouble you, that you have no memories of that time?
[there it is - that resonance again. Itachi guards himself well, but some things go beyond walls and restraint. to Blue, it's like trying to keep one's eyes closed and sleep in the bright sunlight - the sun's still there, and it's not truly dark.]
（ those words may as well cleave him to the core. his body goes taut in an instinctive expectation of physical pain — faint rigidity crawling up his spine and across his shoulders. it's barely perceptible (after all, pain is nothing to him) but present nonetheless, and it isn't until he disentangles the fact that it is only emotional hurt that claws at him that he exhales faintly and shifts, putting his back to the glass. ）
[Blue's never carried a knife as a weapon; his blades are the unseen needles and skewers of a psionic power that mankind fears - that he feared, too. even so, he knows what pain feels like, inside and outside.
it pulls his eyes away from the glass and over to Itachi's. this man...keeps trying to be a monolith of his own making and circumstance, but his humanity still makes him resonate. connect. even if it hurts.
...perhaps especially when it hurts.]
Pain changes...just the way everything else does...as time passes. But what does that mean...in the moment you're in right now?
（ compared to you, our pain will be over in an instant. his father had known then what he would carry, and had still called him kind at the end even as he lifted the sword.
he does not regret what he did. he did not have a choice. he was too young and too called to heel by danzō to have realized there could have ever been another path. he left his cousins, his aunts, his uncles, distant relations to whom he had never spoken dead in the streets and he would do it again if he felt it necessary to keep the peace.
but if his time on the ximilia bears fruit... it may never become necessary at all.
he feels blue's eyes on him, and for once he has no driving urge to meet his gaze. he simply tips his head against the glass, focused on the overhead panels. it is not melancholy that seizes him and settles in the soul, but weariness. ）
[that statement, too...it may not be a troublesome concept to accept anymore, but it's quite sad. acknowledging that changes little about it, but...]
When you survive long enough... You can find that there's...a means to live still. But...it doesn't happen alone. [a slight pause.] Rather, it...didn't, for me.
I survived the fires of Ganymede...the fires I ignited...because I had a reason to.
does it surprise him, to learn that blue had lit those fires? no more than he expects it would surprise blue to learn that itachi slaughtered his family to a man. ）
[and for Itachi...Shisui, perhaps? Blue can only guess; anything that may rise to the surface to be perceived is muddied in shadow - like forms just under the water in the dark of night, obscured by dappled reflections of firelight.
silence settles in for a bit, their constant companion. but Blue doesn't give them command for long.]
Humans...must be quicker about it. Their pain...changing...as fast as they must.
[he only misses the beat to draw breath, and his stare is unwavering.]
Being here...among free human minds...only makes it that much more important.
[he hesitates, his gaze breaking away, looking at seemingly nothing but the sheer station wall parallel to their perch, but he can perceive the glimmers of others' mind just beyond it.]
It...makes me wish...I had come here sooner. For everyone here. If such a thing were possible. To be here, but also with them. [his people.]
（ the sentiment should strike him as odd. untruthful, perhaps. instead, it aligns perfectly with everything blue has shown him up until now. the gentleness is not feigned — nor the love. ）
（ he thinks of the stone in the nakano shrine, and how the mangekyō can only be born from pain. how this has stained the uchiha name in blood and strife for nearly two hundred years. his fingers curl in against his palm and then release their tension. ）
Perhaps once. Now — if I believed in the trappings of fate, I do not imagine I would be here.
（ 'grateful' is the wrong word for it, where his own position is to be considered. he did not anticipate having a second chance. had surrendered to the inevitability of his family's ruin and his brother's fractured state — the one that itachi himself pushed upon him. he will not speak to gratitude unless the orbs do what has been promised of them. until then he will be wary, circumspect, and as guarded as he has ever been in war.
but blue is...
hm.
now that he knows the man's true age, it has added a new facet of understanding to his perception. madara would have been over a hundred years old, but three... that is the sort of thing orochimaru has dreamed of and strove for.
itachi himself has no desire to have outlived sasuke's revenge, but he is curious — from the perspective of one who has studied history — what one would see in such a span of time. ninja lives are brutal, often short, and few have the luxury of achieving their aspirations as he did. twenty-one was sufficient for him, and he would have had nothing else to live for beyond that time anyway. but to measure the scope of your existence in decades, in centuries...
it is... admirable, perhaps, that blue has found a way to nurture gentleness despite all he's been through. and equally remarkable is the fact that he's had sufficient time to choose who he wishes to be. ）
If you find your resolve has begun to waver — （ a faint cant of his head to one side. ） — will you tell me?
（ he has been a tool for so many years, he scarce recalls if he was ever a person at all. he supposes the transition must have happened when he put all his hopes and dreams for the future away, and ceded the whole of his being to danzō's will — and his father's. clara told him she was going to figure out how to make him have fun, and that is something that has settled in his mind like a splinter. ）
You may be the only person here who understands exactly what that means. It is not accurate to say I would miss you, but I would hold an awareness of your absence.
（ he exhales a faint, amused gust of breath, propping his elbow up on his knee, resting his fingers in the crown of his dark hair. it's a casual posture, though that is hardly uncharacteristic — he does have a tendency to make poise look effortless. ）
My saying that was not intended to elicit an offer of help.
No, but... Things like that...the mean more when they're said aloud, right? [as opposed to just being felt. that's how humans seem to operate, he's finding.]
Either way...if my resolve changes... I'll tell you.
[he nods, shifting to get his feet under him before holding out a hand for the help up. this is becoming a more practiced exchange between them, isn't it? even in such a short span of time.
time is weird, though: fifteen years vanished in the blink of an eye, but hours here linger...until the next breath, when Blue finds it's been solar months on board, away from the Shangri-La. it's both new and old at the same time.]
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he has managed so far, mostly, to avoid feeling... protective of others here. he knows it to be his downfall, that urge to stand between those he knows and danger. he does not care for blue, not exactly — but there is something. he is drawn to him, inescapably, the way uchiha are drawn to hatred and power.
and yet —
something alights in him like a raven taking wing — sorrow and grief and understanding that yawns like a bottomless well. ）
Does it trouble you, that you have no memories of that time?
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Not anymore. It can't. It's...been too long.
It isn't troubling anymore. It's just...sad.
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The perspective of a long life, I suppose.
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it pulls his eyes away from the glass and over to Itachi's. this man...keeps trying to be a monolith of his own making and circumstance, but his humanity still makes him resonate. connect. even if it hurts.
...perhaps especially when it hurts.]
Pain changes...just the way everything else does...as time passes. But what does that mean...in the moment you're in right now?
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he does not regret what he did. he did not have a choice. he was too young and too called to heel by danzō to have realized there could have ever been another path. he left his cousins, his aunts, his uncles, distant relations to whom he had never spoken dead in the streets and he would do it again if he felt it necessary to keep the peace.
but if his time on the ximilia bears fruit... it may never become necessary at all.
he feels blue's eyes on him, and for once he has no driving urge to meet his gaze. he simply tips his head against the glass, focused on the overhead panels. it is not melancholy that seizes him and settles in the soul, but weariness. ）
It means you have something to survive.
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When you survive long enough... You can find that there's...a means to live still. But...it doesn't happen alone. [a slight pause.] Rather, it...didn't, for me.
I survived the fires of Ganymede...the fires I ignited...because I had a reason to.
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（ his brother.
does it surprise him, to learn that blue had lit those fires? no more than he expects it would surprise blue to learn that itachi slaughtered his family to a man. ）
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[and for Itachi...Shisui, perhaps? Blue can only guess; anything that may rise to the surface to be perceived is muddied in shadow - like forms just under the water in the dark of night, obscured by dappled reflections of firelight.
silence settles in for a bit, their constant companion. but Blue doesn't give them command for long.]
Humans...must be quicker about it. Their pain...changing...as fast as they must.
Your time is shorter.
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It must all seem very petty to you.
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[he only misses the beat to draw breath, and his stare is unwavering.]
Being here...among free human minds...only makes it that much more important.
[he hesitates, his gaze breaking away, looking at seemingly nothing but the sheer station wall parallel to their perch, but he can perceive the glimmers of others' mind just beyond it.]
It...makes me wish...I had come here sooner. For everyone here. If such a thing were possible. To be here, but also with them. [his people.]
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Perhaps you are here when you are most needed.
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[he looks back over.]
Does such a thing seem real to you?
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Perhaps once. Now — if I believed in the trappings of fate, I do not imagine I would be here.
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Fated or not...I'll be grateful to be here, all the same, I think.
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but blue is...
hm.
now that he knows the man's true age, it has added a new facet of understanding to his perception. madara would have been over a hundred years old, but three... that is the sort of thing orochimaru has dreamed of and strove for.
itachi himself has no desire to have outlived sasuke's revenge, but he is curious — from the perspective of one who has studied history — what one would see in such a span of time. ninja lives are brutal, often short, and few have the luxury of achieving their aspirations as he did. twenty-one was sufficient for him, and he would have had nothing else to live for beyond that time anyway. but to measure the scope of your existence in decades, in centuries...
it is... admirable, perhaps, that blue has found a way to nurture gentleness despite all he's been through. and equally remarkable is the fact that he's had sufficient time to choose who he wishes to be. ）
If you find your resolve has begun to waver — （ a faint cant of his head to one side. ） — will you tell me?
（ it is both request and question. ）
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I...I can, but...why?
[why would Itachi care to know?]
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（ he has been a tool for so many years, he scarce recalls if he was ever a person at all. he supposes the transition must have happened when he put all his hopes and dreams for the future away, and ceded the whole of his being to danzō's will — and his father's. clara told him she was going to figure out how to make him have fun, and that is something that has settled in his mind like a splinter. ）
You may be the only person here who understands exactly what that means. It is not accurate to say I would miss you, but I would hold an awareness of your absence.
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Blue looks at him for a length of time, impressing this moment into his memory with greater care.]
If there's a way...I can help you. I will. If you reach for it.
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My saying that was not intended to elicit an offer of help.
（ you predictable fool. ）
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Either way...if my resolve changes... I'll tell you.
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（ and on that note it's high time for him to get the fuck hence. he stands, gives blue a polite nod — ）
Do you require assistance back to your room?
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time is weird, though: fifteen years vanished in the blink of an eye, but hours here linger...until the next breath, when Blue finds it's been solar months on board, away from the Shangri-La. it's both new and old at the same time.]
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he does not speak again — simply leads blue back to his quarters, and then escapes to his own. ）