[ That crackled thing in the middle of Sasuke's chest softens immediately. That sentiment, Itachi wanting for Sasuke what Sasuke wants, that is familiar now. That is how it was for all the months past he was here at the same time as his brother. This is still his Itachi, his niisan. There are just new (aching) gaps to fill. ]

[ He doesn't reply, though the shift in his expression - the pain and warmth and longing of familial nostalgia - is not subtle. When he steps back past Itachi and opens the door, this time it leads to the hall. ]

Let's talk in the kitchen. [ His voice, too, is softer than his usual clip. He leads the way, passing the rest of the bedroom doors, walking by the largest one as though it firmly does not exist. When they reach the kitchen, furnished with all the same cabinets and fixtures and a table that is not original but very close in shape, he pauses. Hesitates, searching for the right tone, the right words, the right everything. His next words, still softer, are just a little halting. ]

Do you want anything? I think there's still sugar and honey for tea, and I've been to the bakery recently.

[ He doesn't turn to make eye contact. Doesn't mention that the sweeteners are from the previous presence of his brother. This is strange all over again. ]