Sasuke was never afraid of you.

 

He should have been. He was your counterpart in every way, his disgusting normalcy balancing out your genius. He was young in a way you had never been and didn’t know how to be; he smiled, he laughed, and it was as if the idea of a lie had never occurred to him. You weren’t like that; you were always apart, the most popular boy in the academy as well as one of the youngest, and you stood above them on a pedestal you couldn’t see the ground from.

 

He was your opposite and he should have been afraid. You were bitter in the way geniuses often are, angry without realizing, restless underneath the façade of nonchalance. He was so much weaker than you, and it would have been easy to hurt him. Barely any effort on your part and excruciating pain on his, but when you thought about the small body and wide, dark eyes, and destroying that, your arms turned to lead and hung at your sides like dead weights and your throat filled up with something thick and bitter.

 

You would never hurt him, not unless it would heal him later.

 

You returned from your first mission as an ANBU leader late one night. You were only thirteen years old, but you reeked of blood though none of it was yours and you thought it would never wash off.

 

Sasuke was waiting for you in your bed, curled up tight and miserable in the suffocating darkness.

 

You thought it remarkable at the time, bordering on stupidity, really, that such a tiny, fragile being took shelter in you. Any other child would have been frightened- any adult would have been terrified- but Sasuke didn’t even seem to notice, waking when you stood over him and stared down, uncomprehending of why he was there. He hugged you, uncaring of his pajamas becoming stained, and even helped draw a bath, grinning proudly when he presented it to you.

 

Mother wanted a little boy she could love and Father wanted a boy he could teach.

 

No one can love a child prodigy and Father admitted you could throw kunai better than him when you were eight.

 

Sasuke was born and you had no doubt that Mother and Father loved the two of you equally and were proud of you both, but Sasuke was Mother’s from the very beginning. She named him before Father even saw his face- you were there, hiding in the shadows like there was no other place you’d rather be- without consulting the elders. You still remember the surprise on Father’s face, and on the doctor’s. The Uchihas are known for their emphasis on tradition as well as their strength.

 

You were no one’s. You were the village’s. You didn’t care.

 

Sasuke was absolutely fearless as a toddler, and very stupid as well. The concept of fear meant nothing to him, so he would yank on your long hair- Mother hardly dared to brush it when you were a child, something you noticed years later and were only vaguely curious of- and play with kunai and shuriken carelessly, waving the sharp-edged weapons in the air and nearly decapitating himself several times. Father delegated the task of making sure he didn’t hurt himself to you, as if you were a subordinate and Sasuke a chore.

 

As an ANBU you learned to distance yourself and as Sasuke’s older brother you learned to feel. This was a mistake.

 

Sasuke entered school and chattered to you aimlessly about everything. You rarely listened- most of it was useless- but you felt at peace with him, at that was really all you could ask for.

 

Then, Sasuke declared he wasn’t a baby and didn’t need his older brother to walk him to and from school each day. You wondered at the sharp pang in your chest, why you wanted to make him admit he needed you. You only nodded and turned your attention back to your rice. Ten minutes later, you asked to be excused from dinner. Father, silently disapproving of what was sulking for you and moodiness for anyone else, nodded.

 

That night you realized you may have been Sasuke’s older brother, Sasuke’s idol, but you were only a small part of his life. His world was made up of friends, teachers, homework, practice, the seemingly far-off graduation, parents, food, and who knew what else? Your world was Sasuke. ANBU was a passing thought he hardly cared about.

 

If Sasuke didn’t need you, your world...your world wouldn’t exist anymore. If Sasuke no longer remembered you, if Sasuke no longer acted as your silent shadow, then who were you? He had started out as the counterpart but now you were, and you needed him.

 

You realized you had to take steps. You just didn’t know what they were.

 

 

Time passed. Seasons changed, autumn melting into winter melting into spring. Father held Sasuke to the same expectations he held of you, but looked at his youngest son in a different light. He thought of Sasuke as the younger brother and the weaker one, and it made itself apparent in his eyes and voice and actions. Sasuke hunched his small shoulders in whenever he saw Father even as his spine straightened as he tried to make himself taller. You saw all this and you said nothing, but his silent rejection hurt Sasuke.

 

Without even realizing it, you began thinking of a plan.

 

 

Sasuke confided in you. He told you everything, and when he lied he stared at the ground and blushed and occasionally stammered. It was all very cute, and very weak. You told him so- gently, repeating one of the fundamental rules of shinobi.

 

Sasuke protested at this, but only mildly.

 

 

You hit a growth spurt and remarked one evening, very casually in a tone meant to tease, that Sasuke barely reached your shoulder. He wailed at this until you had to shut him up, so you poked him in the forehead. Hard.

 

He quieted for a few moments, rubbing at his forehead with the back of his hand, surprised.

 

“Niisan, what was that for?” Sasuke complained.

 

You sighed.

 

 

Father’s dismissal was cold, brief, and scarred Sasuke deeper than any kunai or shuriken could cut.

 

It occurred to you that it should be stopped.

 

 

Why does he need them? you wondered, watching Sasuke interact with two older cousins- girls- who pinched his cheeks and cooed over him shamelessly. Sasuke squirmed, uncomfortable, and you contemplated helping him before deciding to let him fight it out on his own.

 

All these other people- they distract him. They hurt him. They annoy him.

 

You decided to do something about that, and you thought it took you long enough.

 

 

You learned of the Uchiha family’s plans to seize control of Konoha and thought, Just another reason.

 

It did not surprise you, though, learning of the eventual, slow corruption as image and reputation slowly overtook responsibility and duty. (They did not, of course, tell you this, only of what they wanted you to do, but you could tell.) It was a cycle, as natural as spring melting summer melting autumn melting fall.

 

Sasuke had no place in this plan as anyone other than a child. You wondered briefly what would happen to him afterwards, when all of Konoha would be under the Uchihas’ control and the Uchihas themselves maybe silently proclaimed as traitors. (Rising up against the Hokage- how was that loyalty?)

 

 

Something in their eyes told you that they’ve been expecting this ever since they found out about your abilities. It was ridiculously easy to slaughter them, Grandmother nearing ninety and barely able to walk but more than capable of throwing kunai, oddly enough, the two giggly cousins whose attacks were pathetic and predictable, your uncle who discussed with your father what a disappointment Sasuke was compared to you.

 

Your father and mother were last. You are the strongest of your family.

 

When Sasuke came home late you had a surprise for him, and you reminded yourself this was all for him and your arms- heavy as lead- broke his bones as easily as snapping twigs and your voice snarled out words pushing themselves through a closed throat.

 

He would always remember you.

He would never be hurt more than you just hurt him.

 

You walked away knowing what you had done and not regretting any of it. A thought flit through your mind, as fleeting as sunlight during a storm:

 

Tell me, little brother- are you afraid?