“Would an explanation like this not be suited prior to your departure, to avoid this result?” Itachi’s really pushing it now, but his inquiry is calm, and he hasn’t moved from his spot.
Disappointment, ah… He supposes this is where he’s supposed to feel immensely guilty, and perhaps plead for another chance. Instead, the feeling doesn’t come. Nothing comes, in fact. Itachi had been looking forward to it, but putting himself at Orochimaru’s feet became less and less desirable by the day. It was his Master himself who’d wanted Itachi equal to him, so he didn’t feel like he was taking advantage.
Orochimaru showed signs of lacking restraint, before. Itachi’s sure that’s not that difficult to dredge back up. So this means little in the long run.
No apologies, no shameful look, but words back. It’s a You should’ve told me so – sneer. That’s what Orochimaru hears. He doesn’t have to justify anything to anyone. When he says, stand on your hands, his people should do so.
But this isn’t Konoha. This isn’t the village of mindless obedient puppets. He has these kids because they fall outside the systems, because they can think critically of the systems. Itachi is giving him words back now.
Orochimaru gestures to the clothes. “My mistake, not realizing you were capable of independent thought. It’s noted now. You’ve annoyed me enough.” First the no-knock entry, then the not-following-orders, and now the talking-back at him. “You may put your clothes back on.”
A simple nod follows, and Itachi ducks down to begin doing just that. Not an ounce of disappointment thrums through him for this ending as it had. He’s even relatively sure if he had tried to follow the commands as instructed, he would’ve grown increasingly frustrated, to the point the thought of putting his hands on himself would’ve turned him off. Orochimaru wouldn’t have gotten his desired result either way.
He’s earned the position, and yet Orochimaru seems to be creating additional goal posts to justify this to himself. Perhaps Itachi is to never attain that goal as it’s set, maybe his Master’s desire would just override it, as it nearly had before. He knows he’s not in any true danger. Orochimaru needed him, Itachi had a greater goal to attain, and physically hurting him would work against that goal.
“If you are through with your meal, I will take it.” It’s said as he hooks the last of the buttons on the coat.
“Three days after you instructed prior to your departure. I have not since.” Answered as he turns. There’s no point in lying about it. “I was unable to complete it, and felt it ate up time I could be using towards my training.” Regardless if it was supposed to be a part of it.
Several times Itachi had been leered at by those seeking Orochimaru’s favor, sure, but none ever acted. At no time had Itachi felt truly threatened, nor even wary.
Idiot. Orochimaru puts his hand over his eyes. He exhales. He puts down his chopsticks to rub his temples. He likes to think he doesn’t blame people for their ignorance, but this is pushing it. This willfully ignoring an order.
“What did I say again?” he says. “… `Doctor’s orders`? You can’t just ignore an order from me because it suits you. If I tell you to do something, you do it, because I gave you that order for a reason.”
He sinks deeper into the pillows of his couch. All his feathers are ruffled. He doesn’t point with his chopsticks because that would be very rude, but his eyes flick down to the topic of conversation.
“I told you to masturbate because it’s healthy. Those tubes in your reproductive organ clean themselves of built-up mucus by use. When I gave you the order, I said masturbate. That is touching yourself. I didn’t think you would be capable of climaxing. Of course not. Your cock is so neglected, that it isn’t used to being fully hard. It absolutely isn’t used to climaxing. Masturbation was to make it help go back to active duty.“
He looks back to Itachi’s face. He pushes the food around on his plate.
“I expected you to follow the order. Then at today’s return, I could treat you well. I would cherish you the way I did that last morning we woke up together. I thought that was important to you. Instead…”
He puts the plate away. He sets it on the coffee table.
He looks at Itachi.
And he says:
“I’m just disappointed.”
“Would an explanation like this not be suited prior to your departure, to avoid this result?” Itachi’s really pushing it now, but his inquiry is calm, and he hasn’t moved from his spot.
Disappointment, ah… He supposes this is where he’s supposed to feel immensely guilty, and perhaps plead for another chance. Instead, the feeling doesn’t come. Nothing comes, in fact. Itachi had been looking forward to it, but putting himself at Orochimaru’s feet became less and less desirable by the day. It was his Master himself who’d wanted Itachi equal to him, so he didn’t feel like he was taking advantage.
Orochimaru showed signs of lacking restraint, before. Itachi’s sure that’s not that difficult to dredge back up. So this means little in the long run.
“We can never be on equal terms if my judgement is never to supersede your own.” He adds.
“They are from training swords. A few nights I pushed myself to spar without the Sharingan.” To predict enemy movement on his own, without it, He felt it would speed up his reaction when he did use it, and not expend chakra uselessly.
Everything is removed, down to his undergarments, and once more he simply remains to be inspected.
(He is half hard, however. Hopeful, if anything.)
Orochimaru is tired and grumpy, which affects his mood more than the sight of a naked young Uchiha. He gestures with a finger that Itachi should turn around. He sees that the bruises are in normal places. Not from bullying, not from BDSM, or rape. His verdict is always an educated deduction without certainty of correctness. His favorites are so easily envied by other Hidden Sound ninjas. Violence is the standard. Survival of the fittest.
He looks at the half-hard cock (come on, he’s tired). He looks up to Itachi’s face. “When was the last time you masturbated?” he asks. “How regularly do you jerk off?”
“Three days after you instructed prior to your departure. I have not since.” Answered as he turns. There’s no point in lying about it. “I was unable to complete it, and felt it ate up time I could be using towards my training.” Regardless if it was supposed to be a part of it.
Several times Itachi had been leered at by those seeking Orochimaru’s favor, sure, but none ever acted. At no time had Itachi felt truly threatened, nor even wary.
“More layers,” Orochimaru demands of him. Then: “all layers. You know how moving on a glacial pace thrills me.” He is still eating, but whatever Aina cooked is not tasted. He has his attention somewhere else.
“You filled the gaps between your skin and bones. You trained. You’re eating better. No bite marks. How did you get those bruises? Tell me how you got them.”
“They are from training swords. A few nights I pushed myself to spar without the Sharingan.” To predict enemy movement on his own, without it, He felt it would speed up his reaction when he did use it, and not expend chakra uselessly.
Everything is removed, down to his undergarments, and once more he simply remains to be inspected.
“Undress,” Orochimaru says between bites of food. “Strip.” He looks up to Itachi, and notices the change of hair. He doesn’t mention it, but he likes this better.
“Congratulations on making jounin rank. I expected nothing less of you.”
They both mean the same thing, but he will obey.
Another bow of his head is offered for the thanks in his promotion, before he begins with the buttons on his jacket. Now his mind wanders to the morning from months ago, yet his expression remains the same.
“Wait.” It’s a command. If he doesn’t get to the bottom of this now, his mind won’t be put to rest. He beckons. “Let me take a good look at you. Come closer. Report on you training progress.”
He takes his tray on his lap. He begins to eat.
“I was promoted to Jonin rank twelve days after your departure. There is nothing else to report.” He was just keeping with his schedule and his new duties. But he does close the distance, to allow Orochimaru to study him. He’s filled out in that time, and it shows how the flak jacket clings to his body. He’s abandoned the low ponytail, in favor of a higher one. The hair is the same length, trimmed regularly.
UchihaSavior 