schiz·o·phre·ni·a

noun

1. A severe mental disorder characterized by the following features:

emotional blunting

Itachi looked down at the two piles of meat that had once been his parents and wondered if he was in shock. He knew this had been the right thing to do—the only thing to do, with the slow, steady degradation of the Uchiha that had been bound to drag him down to a similar level sooner or later—but he had expected it to feel like a more momentous event. After all, his mother and father were dead, and he had been the one to kill them. It was supposed to mean something. So it had to be shock.

Two hours later, long after he was out of Konoha, long after he had left the last remnant of his family shaking and drooling on the ground, his hands were as steady as they had ever been, and his eyes completely failed to burn with unshed tears. Two weeks later, it was the same. Two months later, he caught himself staring at a couple with two sons eating across the restaurant from where he and Kisame were waiting for their own meal, and turned away. Kisame, who Itachi had not told much beyond the absolutely necessary about his back story, looked at him curiously. "Is something wrong, Itachi-san?"

Itachi shook his head. "No." And it was true.

intellectual deterioration

Itachi couldn't remember their plan. There had been a plan, he was sure of that much, but after he had laid eyes on their target, all memory of what it might have been fled from him. And for that crucial moment, when the man seated at his desk turned to see who had entered his study without permission, Itachi did something he hadn't done since he was a genin; he froze.

One fortunate thing saved the whole mission: being a genius of the shinobi arts did not require much beyond natural instinct. And Itachi's first instinct when faced with a situation he was unsure about was to make the situation go away. When Kisame walked into the room five minutes later after his distraction had caused enough chaos outside that they were unlikely to be interrupted, the target lay on the carpet with his eyes wide open and his face contorted in an expression that rather resembled absolute terror. Kisame stared at the man for a moment, before shrugging with complete disinterest and turning to Itachi. "I suppose that's one way to take him out without making it obvious that shinobi are the culprits, but I thought you didn't like using your mangekyou on trash."

The answer that sprang to mind was it was the best thing I could think of. But Itachi didn't like to lie, and so in the end he said nothing. After all, the truth was that he hadn't been thinking at all.

social isolation

For the fifth time in a row since they had stayed at an inn instead of sleeping outside, Kisame brought Itachi's dinner up to the room. The frown on Kisame's face as he watched Itachi sip his tea was the only thing that didn't fit the pattern. "When was the last time you spoke to anyone besides me, Itachi-san?"

Itachi shrugged. He didn't remember. No reason to. It wasn't important. He reserved his memory for important things, these days.

But Kisame didn't look away, and his didn't stop frowning. So Itachi answered, tonelessly, "A long time ago. Pass the teapot, please."

disorganized speech and behavior

When Itachi and Kisame learned of Deidara's death, Kisame didn't react with the forced good humor with which he had greeted the news of Hidan and Kakuzu's demise. He sat on the edge of the cliff where the messenger falcon had found them and ran his thumb down the Samehada's edge, his mouth in a hard line. Then he looked up at Itachi. "Well?"

What Itachi finally ended up saying didn't resemble the words that had run through his head. "We should get going. My brother is coming to meet me soon."

And then he turned and walked away. He knew that, under the circumstances, he shouldn't have expected Kisame to follow. But the expectation was still there. Everyone needed one constant. Kisame was his.

hallucinations

Kisame hovered at his elbow, as the former Mist-nin always did. Itachi didn't turn to look, but he knew a bemused grin was twisting the other Akatsuki's face. "Well, that didn't go well."

"No."

"Didn't expect your brother to have gotten as strong as that."

"No."

"Better luck next time, maybe."

"Perhaps."

"I didn't think it would take you so long to bury me."

"The ground is frozen over here. And it's mostly rock."

Itachi felt Kisame smirk. "There is that."

There was a moment of silence.

"No offense, Itachi-san, but now I kind of want to see your little Sasuke as a smoking corpse."

Itachi slung the Samehada across his back, the filth covering his hands smearing the hilt a grimy brown, and turned away from the stone with which he had marked his partner's resting place. "Yes. Eight years is too long a time to leave a job unfinished."

and delusions

Sasuke met Itachi's blank expression with a sneer. "You knew this would happen eventually, brother. You killed everyone that ever mattered. You deserve death at my hands."

Itachi drew the Samehada slowly, making sure not to catch the teeth on the makeshift leather sheath. It was difficult, made more so by the fact that his hands wouldn't stop shaking, no matter how he willed them to still. "I'm afraid you are getting us mixed up, little brother. You deserve death far more than I."

For a moment, Sasuke's face smoothed out in confusion. "What are you-"

A moment was all Itachi needed.

2. A state characterized by the coexistence of contradictory or incompatible elements.

Itachi stared down at the pile of meat that had once been his brother and wondered if he was in shock. He knew this had been the right thing to do—the only thing to do—but he had expected it to feel like a more momentous event. After all, his younger brother was dead, and he had been the one to kill him. It was supposed to mean something. So it had to be shock.

Two hours later, long after he had left his last relation's corpse behind, Kisame caught up with him and punched him in the head. Hard. Itachi felt his shoulder dislocate as he hit the ground. Hm. It looked like Kisame was angry.

"You… you… what the hell were you thinking? You knocked me out and buried me under six feet of rock! Do you have any idea how long it took to dig myself out? The air pocket you left me ran out and I nearly asphyxiated before I got to the surface!"

Very angry. "You weren't supposed to wake up so soon. I was heading back to come get you. The air would have been good for another two hours if you hadn't used it all up."

"And you stole me sword!"

"I needed to use it."

"Your brother gets one good shot in and you take me out of the fight? You have some serious issues, Itachi!"

Itachi shrugged. "I know."

There was another moment of silence. If the first one counted, that is. Itachi was fairly sure it didn't.

"So did you win?"

Itachi nodded.

Kisame sighed. "Alright. Fine, if that went well. But I still think you're completely nuts."

Itachi paused in the midst of unbuckling the Samehada's sheath, gave it a moment of thought, and finally shrugged. "Probably. Does it matter?"