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[Somehow out of everything, it's the suggestion that he could have murdered Shisui for power that makes him let out an angry scoff, and he quickly bites it back and keeps his gaze lowered, determined to keep his unspoken promise to uphold Itachi's wishes. It's all so much more horrible than he could have ever imagined, it's hard to process all of it which is probably for the best. It'll haunt him tonight and for many nights to come. Later though, all of that later. The anger, the outrage, the raw despair at it all will have its time.

Not now. This is not about him. His feelings on it, no matter how powerful, are not more important than Itachi's.

He rises from the pond and turns his back on Itachi, standing there for a moment to look out at the sunshine room. He isn't crying but he scrubs a hand over his face all the same, exhaling quietly. When he's given himself the moment he needs, he makes his way to Itachi's side and sits down with only a scant few inches between them. He does not face him and keeps his gaze on the grassy fields across from them.

Only after several minutes of silence have passed does he speak.]

What happened to Danzo?

（ it skirts the spirit of the edict he had laid down, but does not break it. he watches as wei ying stands, turns.

(it would be hurtful, itachi thinks, if the man could see the brief look of surprise that he cannot cull in its infancy, when he sits back down beside him.

lucky he is choosing to direct his focus elsewhere.) ）

I do not know.

（ if either shikamaru or kakashi had known, neither had mentioned it to him. when he had told kakashi he would kill danzō himself, the man had not indicated it would be an unnecessary task — so he can only assume that he survives at least that long. he had always been a powerful shinobi. ）

He was more powerful than I was at thirteen. He would not be so now.

Edited 2023-08-05 04:03 (UTC)

Okay. [He says, because it's all he can say that isn't 'I would happily torture him to death and then scatter his body to pieces so he never finds rest.' There is in fact very little he can say at all that won't violate Itachi's wishes, so he stays silent.

After another few minutes have passed, he slumps and scoots over, allowing his side to press against Itachi's and his head to lean on his shoulder. He doesn't know if it will be welcome but he can't do nothing, and if it isn't welcome, then he can hardly take offense.]

（ he does not move, to welcome or reject it.

merely says — ）

You are a very foolish man, Wei Ying.

[Not for loving you.

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes and exhales through his nose before opening his eyes again. After a moment he sits up straight. He'd gotten his message across and that's what matters. He won't force Itachi to endure something he doesn't want right now.

Words continue to fail him, but that's alright. What is there to say in the face of all Itachi has spoken of tonight?

Instead, he stays seated within arm's reach. It doesn't matter that Itachi won't reach for him, only that he remains and that Itachi knows he could reach for him if he wanted to.]

（ the silence is like a bleak river that twists between them, dark as a moonless night. it is a deep and fathomless thing, but — the heart knows still waters. perhaps he resisted telling wei ying for so long because he knew the man would react like this. not the inward-directed judgment, not the hatred that he has burned with for years in a form of self-immolation.

there was a reason he laid down conditions first. because the idea that wei ying could do anything but join him in the fire is a laughable one — foolish indeed.

he opens one hand, and a small rumpled leaf that had been tucked in against his palm falls to the water, where it does not sink. ）

One day, perhaps, I may find the strength to forgive myself for my role in that atrocity. If I do, it will be in no small part due to those I have met here, befriended and come to love. You should know this, too.

[The fist that had been clamped so tightly around his heart loosens with the words as an inkling of hope takes root. It's more than he expected and he's warmed to be wrong. He doesn't know how much it must have taken Itachi to speak them into existence, but he knows it's probably more than he can understand.

His eyes fall on the leaf floating on top of the water and he reaches out for Itachi, setting his fingers on the back of Itachi's hand. He hopes that he'll understand it as the declaration of love that it is, and not anything born of sympathy or pity.]

You don't need me to tell you that I'll be here, either way. Still, some things should be said aloud. [Itachi might be able to read between the lines, but there is power in words. It's something he's learned only more recently.]

You are my xingan, Itachi. Until the end of our days.

（ his fingers twitch faintly beneath wei ying's, but he doesn't move away.

there is something to be said for the fact that the liver is what processes poison. almost, he makes the quip.

but he is neither the first nor the last person to use humour as a deflection — so, rather than give voice to the subterfuge, he says nothing at all — simply focuses on the warmth of the man's hand, his presence and nearness, and the faint smell of camellia oil on his hair.

it is perhaps a small eternity later that he lifts their twined hands together, and presses a kiss against the back of his companion's hand.

and then, quite abruptly, he is gone.

if anyone will understand why, it is wei ying. ）

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