[His anger burns fast and hot, leaving Sasuke empty, stripped in the aftermath of his own words and the dissatisfying reply of Itachi's. It wasn't a realization he'd noticed until after that second goodbye, edo tensei's dissolution nearly as bitter as his brother's death for the burden it forced him to carry. And it comes to him again now—because how much of what Itachi says to him is even true? Doubt creeps in, dark around the singed edges of his trust. He wants to believe Itachi with his whole heart, always, wants to see them allied together against the world because they are brothers, they are each other's blood, yet if it's all for him...

It's not a good enough reason.

Sasuke stops pacing, turning his head to look at Itachi through the fringe of his hair, overgrown from his time in prison so that it almost covers the eerie purple glow of his left eye.]

I don't believe you. [He wonders if he will ever take a word out of Itachi's mouth on faith again. It hurt, hearing Itachi say he loved him, not knowing if it was true. Wishing desperately that it was anyway. Obito told him one story—the evidence of his memories, of his brother's memories now embedded into his own mind, suggests that the events of the past are true. And still he can't trust. As though the ability has been broken, shattered, beaten in him beyond repair. How is he supposed to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, why Itachi does what he does?] That wasn't your only goal. And if it was, it wasn't because you cared about me and nothing else. You should have killed me instead. That would have been better than living like this.

Stop pretending it doesn't matter.

[He paces back across the room, to the desk, resisting the urge to knock both of their cups of tea off the table's surface.]