"I want you to stop doing things that are going to make you more crazy and paranoid." Itachi forced out a hard breath and pushed at Shisui's arms so he could turn himself around.
"Because every time you go off, all I can think is I'm going to have to kill you again, and then you know what I'll do? I'll probably go off crazy as a hatter, or kill myself for poetic justice." Itachi pushed at Shisui's arms that held him. Circled him. Held him back, not kept him safe. This used to be a safe place. A good place where he couldn't be hurt, but Shisui wasn't the protector anymore. Itachi was. No, he wasn't a protector. He was the nurse at the sickbed, waiting for the patient to die.
He'd stopped treating Shisui like a friend, or thinking of him that way. He'd started thinking of him as a burden. A duty. And endless cycle of insanity to be witnessed and ended again and again. Around and Around.
Itachi wanted to be sick.
He hadn't loved Shisui in a way that didn't hurt or make him tired in a while now. Played at it, pretended, but not really loved like he used to. No joy in simply his cousin's presence. No delighted flush from head to toes. Nothing but the frightened, paranoid, fatalist feeling held tight in his chest.
He just wanted this to be over.
And that was one of the worst thoughts he'd ever had.