tampered | (no subject)

(no subject)

When; May 9th, Afternoon
Rating; PGish, I guess
Characters; Uchiha Itachi

crimsonmangekyo, Hoshigaki Kisame

samehada_lover
Summary; The shark returns to the City, and comes looking for his partner.
Log;

From the forboding gothic curvature of the abandoned church's tower, crimson eyes scanned the landscape around them, black and scarlet cloak blowing slightly with the light breeze. Itachi hated waiting, but he knew that Kisame knew that as well. Just as he knew that if the shark knew what was good for him, he wouldn't keep the obsidian-haired young man waiting long.

Though it might not have been obvious for all outward appearances, Itachi couldn't deny that the return of his partner to the City was a source of something that could almost be called comfort. Not so much in the sense of that warm and fuzzy feeling that others spoke of, but merely a sessation of stress and nerves and other things that had buzzed lightly yet persistently in the back of the sharingan-user's head since Kisame's initial departure.

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It couldn't have been longer than a few days since he had last seen his partner, but considering what transpired between their last meeting and now, Kisame had the sudden urge to drop down and kiss those painted black toenails. Samehada felt five times lighter than when he had first entered this strange new land.

They had spent time apart before, of course. The Leader of the Akatsuki had given them missions that took them to distant lands, sometimes leagues apart. But this was different. Here ... here there had been the possibility that he might never have met Itachi again (an impossibility back home ... he knew his partner's strengths, and knew that no one else could match them).

"Itachi-san," he said, struggling for words. "You're looking a little haggard."

Vermilion and black irises studied the blue-skinned man with their characteristic expressionless manner before he nodded, the motion almost impossible to see.

Kisame was right, of course. He did look haggard. Being dead tended to do that to you. Not that the Uchiha was that concerned. Afterall, that was something due to be remedied in due time.

"You seem to have avoided injury, Kisame."

Kisame closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for Itachi to take offense to his comment. It would not be stated aloud, no, that was not the Uchiha way, but he at least expected the air to thicken with suppressed fury.

When it did not come, he cautiously opened an eye. Itachi simply looked back at him impassively. Not even a displeased cocked eyebrow.

"Were you injured when you came here?"

Whom must I kill now?

He couldn't help the slight smirk that curved his lips at Kisame's seeming confusion. Certainly he would have normally lashed out, chakra sending cold anger into the atmosphere, but as much as that was his nature, Itachi had to admit he also found a slight degree of amusement in rattling his partner.

The narrowed gaze, however, did find it's way to his face at Kisame's second question. Injured, many times. Killed...once. Despite the fact that the shark-man was the one person Uchiha Itachi might have been willing to say he trusted, that didn't necessarily mean the ponytailed Akatsuki was ready to simply admit his "failure" to his partner.

"There has been much that has happened here, Kisame."

A "nonanswer", really, as it did nothing to actually provide insight into Kisame's query. But perhaps that in itself would be telling enough.

Kisame felt his face grow even more sober. This city ... be it Hell, enemy genjutsu, or hallucination ... this city had done something to Itachi. It was obvious that Itachi-san had been here much longer than he had. Long enough to make friends and befriend ... another Kisame?

He gripped the hilt of Samehada more tightly, frustrated by all that he had missed, all that he had yet to learn. Itachi had built something of a life here it seemed.

Without him.

"Itachi-san." He met those serious eyes without hestitation. "Are we dead?"

The blue-skinned man didn't seem to like the fact that his partner had been dealing with "adventures" without him. Inwardly Itachi smiled. That meant only one thing. This was his Kisame. The one from his own reality. Which meant...

Stepping forward, footsteps barely audible, one black-painted hand lifted one of Kisame's hands to touch palm to chest as those same eyes stared nearly expressionlessly back.

"You aren't."

Kisame yanked his hand back, more out of surprise than anything else.

Calm, calm, stay calm, you're an Akatsuki, not some lovestruck ten-year-old boy.

This was still Itachi. Same wraith-like appearance (boy always was too skinny for his own good), same even-keeled voice, same everything.

But he touched him.

Skin upon skin contact, something Itachi rarely did even while fighting, preferring even to keep his enemies at a distance.

It was almost shocking enough to make Kisame forgot what Itachi just said.

The city really had done something to Itachi. And ... and ... Kisame thought he might be able to get used to it.

"But you are?"

The Uchiha watched as the larger blueskinned hand was jerked back in shock, those white eyes he knew so well widening in surprise.

It was unusual for him to initiate any sort of tactile contact, even among those he considered "comrades". Watching the stupified expression on Kisame's face, he turned to glance out over the City for a moment before nodding.

"Indeed. But that shall be remedied soon enough."

Kisame followed Itachi's eyes toward the city, trying hard to concentrate on his words, but having to fight harder than he ought against the empty feeling that began to creep into his skin. The warmth that had been there on the tips of his fingers not a moment ago was fading.

If he were a more impulsive man, he might take that pale hand back into his own, revel in it, breathe in the faint sandlewood scent.

Ridiculous. He was being ridiculous.

The city looked like a cold imposing thing from this height. No one ought to face it alone.

Especially not the dead.

"How? How are you dead, yet I am living? What is this place?"

"This is the City, Kisame. A dimension apart from all other worlds. It draws it's victims from outside worlds, trapping them here. Even the dead are no different, walking with earthly feet."

Pulling his wide-brimmed hat off of his head, he ran a hand through black hair.

"Death in this place is unlike death that you are used to. Here, death simply leads to entrapment in this world. When I met it's cold grasp, that sealed my fate here. Though it is only a matter of time before that issue will be rectified. Afterall, not even Hotaru can restore life that has been lost."

Kisame watched black hair stream like a waterfall through those pale fingers, resisting the urge to do the same to it. Anything to stop that tone of voice Itachi was using now. The sadness within it was an echo of Itachi's real world voice, hollow and ...

Dead.

"Hotaru-san and I spoke a short while ago. At first I wasn't sure why you would make it one of your goals to care for someone like her, but then she told me..."

Kisame felt his throat tighten with rage.

"Tell me who did this to you."

A dry chuckle answered Kisame's mention of the girl. He had certainly done a good job of twisting her to his own ends, and it showed in the nearly desperate devotion she held for him.

"Don't mistake it for more then it is. She's useful to us. A healer with skills that would make Tsunade tremble in trepidation. The ability to regenerate what has been lost, to a degree."

Red eyes spun lazily as they studied the tense muscles, barely-leashed rage. Yes, this was his Kisame, after all. The one who took such care to make sure no harm came to his younger partner.

"It depends upon which injury you are referring to, Kisame."

Kisame knew that chuckle. Itachi showed amusement so little in life, that when he finnaly did, Kisame made it his business to find out the cause.

Pity was not an emotion that came easily to him, but all the same, he suddenly felt very sorry for Hotaru-san.

More than one injury?

Kisame never valued himself Itachi's protector. Not really. The idea was laughable in and of itself (at least back in the real world ... what kind of monsters roamed this realm?)

But sometimes he would pretend, after someone so much as looked at Itachi the wrong way (that poor fat bastard at the Soddy Grass Inn, for example ... his own mother wouldn't have recognized him at the end). When Itachi gave him permission to act in those instances, Kisame would pretend that his sword was the only thing in the world that could right that wrong, pretend that those crimson eyes couldn't wreak havoc on their own.

He could pretend that Itachi needed him.

Now maybe he didn't have to pretend anymore.

The thought made him shiver.

One arched black eyebrow raised slightly at the faint shudder that traversed the taller man's form. So the thought of his partner being injured bothered Kisame? Itachi would have been lying if he'd said the thought didn't intrigue him to some degree. After all, he knew perfectly well that there was a measure of loyalty and...trust, he guessed he could call it, that existed between the two of them, forged into some nameless connection both understood though neither had given it a moniker.

Itachi wasn't one to admit, whether to himself or to another, anything remotely resembling "need" for assistance. It just wasn't his way. Things like that...were better left unsaid, simply an understanding. Clearing his throat, he glanced ahead, staring out over the landscape.

"The Yondaime Hokage landed the first "victory" against our forces, when he burned my eyes to cinders during a fight. He resented my toying with his offspring's mind, it would seem."

Kisame probably should have been glad that the hilt of Samehada was not made from bone, otherwise he was sure he'd hear a crack beneath his grip.

"Hotaru-san told me the Yellow-Bellied Flash lived in this City, too, but I never thought you would ever meet your match from the likes of a Leaf Nin."

Blunt. Perhaps too blunt. He got that way when he was angry.

His gaze dropped to his feet. "What is the last thing you remember? Back in the world?"

Our world.

Crimson flashed dangerously as black tomoe shifted momentarily into the tri-spoked wheel of the mangekyo. Uchiha Itachi did not like the allusion that he had met his match, Hokage or no Hokage. That being the case, there was little disguising the icy bite of monotone voice.

"I hardly call it a "match" when circumstances forced him to call down divine intervention to avoid loss of life."

The other thing that Itachi emphatically disliked was being reminded of his own shortcomings. In this case, the resulting injury due to his own overconfidence in use of the Tsukuyomi. It was an error that would not be repeated, but that didn't make the blow to his pride any less sensitive.

"The last thing I remember? That would be my fool of a useless little brother attempting to trap me within my own jutsu."

[ooc: so yeah, my Itachi comes from a tad post-canon b/c of the way I wanted him to get into the City.]

Kisame's heart sped up. Those eyes, those eyes, transforming into the ugly-yet-irresistable Mangekyo form. Had Itachi's Sharingan been engaged this whole time? How had he missed that?

Oh, that's right. The man others feared as the Kaijin of the Hidden Mist had been avoiding them this whole time. Even as Kisame's blood pulsed like a torrent through his veins, he made himself hold that terrible gaze.

Uchiha Itachi does not need a coward for a partner.

Itachi's voice had dropped impossibly deeper, which could only mean he was offended. Or planning to kill. Or both.

The meaning of the words caught up a moment later.

"So your little brother sent you here? You must be proud. Isn't that what you always wanted? To die by his hand?"

After the words left his mouth, he cringed. My, he might as well use Samehada as a shovel and start digging. Itachi-san had told him that in confidence, indicating on more than one occasion that any mention of it would be hard on Kisame.

It might just be easier to fling himself head-first off the building.

[ooc: I love that idea. It's always how I imagined Itachi would go.]

Whirling scarlet met and held pale white in that same terrible gaze for a moment, Mangekyo spinning at an alarming rate as those eyes narrowed for a moment, taking in Kisame's words.

A flicker of movement and the barest brush of silk against his back, combined with the glimmer of steel as the kunai caressed his throat ever so gently, crimson red tassel with it's enameled fan and chime barely moving with the speed of Itachi's movement, before that quiet voice was hissing in his ear.

"You forget yourself, Kisame. Especially if you think my worthless scrap of a brother could even hope to take my life using my technique."

Kisame's heart pumped like a wild thing in his chest. It wanted out of his sternum, wanted to burst through bone and splatter across Itachi's perfectly pale skin.

This was why he needed Itachi. No one else in the world could make him feel so alive, yet so close to death.

No one else could pose enough of a challenge.

It was useless to try and be rational about things. Itachi may have just admitted to being sent to this world by his little brother (Right? Or was that simply confirming what Kisame already believed? Had he misinterpreted what Itachi had said to fit with his own pre-conceived notions?)

Kisame chuckled. Either way, he liked being this close to his partner, even if there was a kunai to his throat.

"I thought it belonged to an almighty Uchiha Madara? Or are the tales false?"

The chuckle was amusing in and of itself, bring the barest hint of a smile to Itachi's face. Leaning closer, he whispered in his partner's ear, enjoying the way the close contact seemed to put Kisame on edge.

"Perhaps at one time. But where is he now, Kisame?"

There was a hint of amusement in that whisper, wasn't there?

That was permission to proceed, then. Unless he horribly miscalculated, he might as well get away with some fun before the contact was broken.

"Some say the Nidaime called down the wrath of the gods upon his head."

Kisame cleared his throat. Not that much fun.

"Some say he never existed at all. Some say his spirit lives on in each prodigal child the Uchihas produce per generation."

In other words, he's dead now.

"Hn."

Again the amused chuckle, listening to Kisame's words.

"So I see. Then perhaps his spirit walks this place as well, Kisame."

A slight push of the kunai, coupled with the barest touch of Itachi's lips to Kisame's ear as he whispered.

"Or perhaps you are fortunate that it does not."

Another faint rustle of silk and the Uchiha was again simply standing in front of his partner, expression once again unreadable.

[ooc: lol, I couldn't resist. XD]

There wasn't much that could drive the sound straight from Kisame's throat, but that...

That was too much.

And Hidan was wrong. Itachi's lips weren't as cold as his words. Far from it. The heat there had melted into Kisame's skin, pouring down his neck like tears.

He put a hand to his throat. No, that was blood. Just a small trickle caused by the edge of the kunai held there not a moment ago.

Obviously Itachi had not put two and two together to realize that blood caused a hunger in sharks that would not be sated until flesh found its way to sharp, sharp teeth.

He took a step forward.

"I'm just happy that you do."

Watching Kisame that way, watching the trail of blood slide slowly down the blue throat, Itachi suppressed the urge to lick his lips. The shark wasn't the only one who had a taste for that warm, coppery fluid.

Raising one eyebrow slightly at Kisame's words, he cocked his head to one side as if curious as to what his partner was going to do, advancing like that. Despite his smaller size, Itachi had no intention of backing down in any way, even taking a half-step forward as if in challange.

That half-step forward was all it took to make Kisame falter, stop in his tracks. Kami-sama, just what in the world was he planning on doing just now?

Just what in the hell came out of his mouth just now?

His limbs felt all of a sudden awkward, too big for his body, so he hefted his sword to make use of them.

"So, uh ... you don't happen to live in a cave anymore, do you?"

Amusing, how just a single movement from him could so easily seem to rattle the larger man, make him stumble over himself. Taking another step forward, he tilted his face up to look at his partner, who seemed suitably shaken by one thing or another.

"No, Kisame. I do not reside in a cave."

"Don't tell me you live with that Ingram Little Prick-sen, or whatever he calls himself?"

No really, don't tell me. Even if you do live with the son of a bitch.

There was something about that guy that just burrowed its way under his skin and wouldn't let him rest.

And it wasn't the thought of him and Itachi sharing the same ... missions, while he had been gone.

Itachi smirked, chuckling slightly. Kisame was so amusing when he was jealous. And yes, it was obvious to the Uchiha that jealousy was exactly the problem.

Taking another step forward, he paused, leaving mere inches between himself and the other man, amused stare on his face.

"Would that bother you, Kisame?"

He would have rather gelded himself then share living space with the "substitute" Akatsuki member, but he wasn't about to tell the shark that. Better to stand by and wait, see what would happen.

"No, it wouldn't bother me."

Because Ingram would be dead.

Kisame took a slight step back. "But if you weren't rooming with anyone ... I thought ... Well, I don't really have a place to stay tonight."

[ooc: Oh noes, I think we'll have to wrap this up, since I won't be on very much this week. I really enjoyed rp'ing with you! You're a great Itachi. :)]

The ghost of an actual smile, before Itachi turned to head off.

"Are you coming, Kisame?"

[ooc: Awww, that sux. You should get on IM some, so that I can bother you. ^__^]

Kisame's grin showed a mouth full of sharp teeth.

"Just show me the way."

[ooc: I will try. :D :D :D But alas, this Itachi cosplay sewing is really taking up a huge chunk of time, and I need to get it done asap.]

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