Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. The song is 4am Forever by Lost Prophets. If you're interested in the lyrics, they're easy to find on Google.

4am. Itachi held Shisui, struggling, under the water of the fast flowing river. It seemed like forever before the older Uchiha stopped struggling and went limp. Panting, Itachi collapsed as pain erupted in his eyes. He had done it. He had killed Shisui and gained the legendary Mangekyo Sharingan. His eyes took on a pinwheel pattern briefly, before fading back to onyx. Time had no meaning as he lay on the river bank, hidden by the night. When he eventually stood, dawn was breaking and he had to hurry back so as not to arouse suspicion.

That day, various members of the clan visited him, asking him why he and Shisui hadn't attended the meeting the previous night. In the end, he snapped, attacking them, forgetting that Sasuke was watching. As soon as he and his father were alone, he was scolded for setting a bad example and disgracing his immediate family. After the lecture, he was left alone. He didn't go home – that would have meant facing Sasuke and his mother. Instead, he went to the river and stood on a bridge, gazing down at the clear water. He stood there for hours. Night fell, but still he didn't move. It was as if he was a statue. His mother came out and asked him to come home, but he replied that he'd like to stay out a little longer. She accepted that and left him alone with his thoughts. One image flashed up in his mind and wouldn't do away. Shisui smiling at him when they were younger, training together. The older Uchiha had never been put off by his cold attitude – he was the only one that hadn't, and now he was dead. All night, Itachi stood there, bombarded by memories. 4am, and the harshest one of all resurfaced. Exactly 24 hours ago, when he had held Shisui under water until he'd stopped struggling and died. Tears rolled down his face as what he had done sank in. There was an audible 'crack' and he felt a distinct pain in his chest. He'd heard of the expression 'heart broken', but hadn't realised how accurate it was. His heart felt as though it had cracked down the middle. He leant over the railings and stared at the water. A face appeared – Shisui. He was smiling, but slowly, it faded away, to be replaced by the usual, clear, water.

"No!" Itachi cried as the image disappeared, but the word died on his lips. Instinctively, he knew that that would probably be the last time he would see him smile. As if in response to his desperate plea, the image resurfaced, but instead of happiness, disbelief and betrayal were clear on his face.

"I'm sorry!" Itachi sobbed, but again his words refused to leave his mouth. Tears rolled faster and faster. If only he'd said that before Shisui had died, perhaps he would have understood. Itachi knew that if their roles had been reversed, he would have felt hurt, and confused.

"Shisui!" Itachi called as the image faded. This time, it didn't return. "I'm sorry! Forgive me!" The plea hung in the air, unanswered. It hurt to realise that, if Shisui could hear him, he was ignoring him. Itachi was a true shinobi – he never showed his emotions – so why was he crying? Why were rivers of salty water running down his face? He swiped at the tears and turned to go, but something stopped him. No matter how hard he tried, the remnants of his heart wouldn't let him leave. His hands made their way to the chain around his neck and gripped it tightly, the metal biting into his skin. It had been a gift from Shisui – now all he had to remember him by.

Itachi wasn't naïve, but he never thought that it was possible to cry so many tears at one time. He willed them to cease and, eventually, they did so, but he knew that it would be a long time before, internally, they stopped. He didn't want to stay in the past, but his guilt trapped him there and wouldn't let him go. How could he manage without Shisui's guidance? The answer: he'd have to, no matter how much it hurt – after all, there was no choice. Shisui was dead. Birdsong erupted as the first rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon. Mentally, Itachi held onto it, using it as a pathway out of his grief. He knew that, if their roles had been reversed, Shisui would have done the same thing.

Consumed by an emotion he couldn't name, Itachi glared at the rising sun, willing it to disappear. 4am, the time that would be branded into his heart forever. The time that he had killed Shisui. He glared at the river, imagining the older Uchiha laughing and waving at him. The distance between them lengthened, but the hallucination of Shisui didn't appear to notice, until it disappeared from view. Nothing dared to go near the heartbroken Uchiha. No insects, birds, not even fish would venture near. Dawn was usually bustling with shinobi, but no-one was out. Itachi scowled, knowing that any link that he'd ever had with other people had been severed by his one, selfish, act.

For the first time in years, Itachi felt vulnerable, naïve and uneducated. He wanted Shisui to be there with him, to guide and help him. But he knew that he could no longer rely on the older Uchiha – he'd have to find his own path in life. White-knuckled hands gripped the railings as he stared into the depth of the river. Then, as the sun fully appeared over the horizon, he turned his back on the river and walked home, to his bed.

To Itachi's surprise, his mother was up, waiting for him. Seeing his weary state, she sent him straight to bed, telling him that he could sleep for as long as he wanted. Gratefully, he obeyed. He lay on his bed, an occasional tear leaking from his eyes, for a long time before finally falling asleep.

When he woke, hours later, he realised that he wasn't alone. His father was sitting on the end of the bed, looking at him with an unnamed emotion in his eyes.

"Itachi," he said. "You're not being yourself at the moment – is it because of Shisui's death?" Unbidden, tears filled Itachi's eyes upon hearing Shisui's name. He couldn't stop them from spilling and running down his face. Arms held him, trying to offer comfort. Itachi couldn't tell who it was, blinded by tears as he was. He cried and cried, grateful for the support. When the tears finally stopped, he was surprised to see that his father had been the one offering comfort.

"Father..." he said.

"Sometimes I forget just how young you really are," his father confessed, wiping away Itachi's occasional tears. There were sounds of an argument.

"No you can't see him!" Itachi's mother said fiercely.

"It's important!" a man insisted.

"I don't care! He's exhausted!" his mother said stubbornly. Listening to the arguments, Itachi got out of bed and made his way to the front door. His mother was with the men that he had attacked the previous day.

"Ah, Itachi," one of them said. His mother turned around, surprised, then smiled at him. Itachi was fully aware that his eyes were red from crying and that the paths the tears had taken were clearly visible on his cheeks. He didn't care.

"Itachi," one of the men said. "You haven't informed the ANBU of Shisui's death – why?" Itachi glared at him.

"I haven't seen them since before you spoke to me," he replied civilly. "Rest assured that I will request their co-operation." Silently, tears started to roll down his cheeks.

"Is that all, gentlemen?" his mother inquired coldly. They nodded and left. "Itachi..." she said in a softer tone. "I know you want time alone, but don't stay out so late – it exhausts you." For once, Itachi didn't protest at her protectiveness; he accepted that she was worried about him.

He didn't go out that day – or the next. When he did eventually leave the house, it still wasn't hard to spot his grief. True to his word, he relayed his clan's plea to investigate the death to the ANBU, who immediately tried to find some clues. A week later, all attempts ceased as they couldn't find anything – Itachi had covered his tracks well.

Months later, he got that mission – the hardest one he'd ever been given. He didn't know how his sanity would cope with so many more deaths, but he had no choice but to accept it. The first to die were the ones that had [rightly] accused him of the murder. After that, it was whoever he saw. Last of all, he faced his parents. Before he killed them, he confessed – he felt that he owed it to them.

"I killed Shisui." His parents looked at him in shock. "I'm not proud of it – it nearly killed me. I wish I didn't have to do this. I'm sorry." I'm sorry. The last words his parents heard before they died. Tears leaked down his face as what was left of his heart shattered. His heart was more than just broken – it was smashed beyond repair. He couldn't kill Sasuke – if he had, he would have died, too.

Knowing that he'd never be a Konoha shinobi again, he drew his kunai and carved a scratch through the symbol on his headband. Then, for the last time, he stood on the bridge and gazed at the water.

"I have to go, Shisui," he said. "This is the last time." There was no answer – not that he expected one. Sighing, he turned to leave.

He didn't look back. Who knows, if he had he would have seen Shisui's face, smiling sorrowfully. But hew didn't, and then and there a part of Uchiha Itachi died.

Why do I always write depressing things? I feel really sorry for Itachi, which is why I wrote this songfic. After all, even he couldn't have killed so many without suffering himself, surely. He's one of my favourite characters too. Anyway, this is dedicated to 0xHannahx0 because she loves this song...

Tsarina Torment

P.S. Review please!