All men have weaknesses, regardless of where they stand in the world. The only difference between the common men and the powerful ones is that the latter learns to hide their weaknesses early in life, whereas the stupid or the brave display themselves openly to friends and enemies alike. That's why they are, and why they remain, commoners. If one wishes to rule the world, they need to be clever enough to make others believe them when they say they are invincible. Though, if one thinks about it, after all the years of hearing men over and over claim this, it really is rather disappointing that the common people haven't learn to recognize it yet.

But regardless, weakness is still there. And in most cases, a weakness is only an indulgence. In fear, in confidence, in people or items...one that cannot be broken no matter what methods are used against it. If it were possible to get rid of it, then there wouldn't need to be that rule, now would there? But Gato wasn't anywhere near strong enough to defy the rule, and in all honesty, he had never met a man who was.

He heard a knock on his door, and immediately called for the person on the other side to enter. Eyes on the clock mounted above his fireplace, Gato could see what time it was, and yet the idea of a sudden visitor arriving in the middle of the night not surprising in the least. Only so many people got to see him without the company of his constant bodyguards hiding in the shadows, but this was different. Another part of his indulgence. So he daringly told the guards to be stationed outside the door instead.

When one becomes powerful, it should be noted, they also become hated. The people clever enough to hide their weaknesses also learn early on that there is a intimidating power in having a pair of very large, armed men prepared to "take care of" whatever "annoyances" he should come upon.

Gato didn't need to turn around to look at the visitor. True, as a person he didn't know the girl standing behind him, had never seen her before and would likely never see her again. But tonight she was his employee, and playing a part that he already knew very well.

And of course, he knew it was a she...

"You're late," he said to her, back still turned toward the doorway.

He heard the sound of the door being hastily closed, and then a timid voice saying back, "I-I'm sorry, I had trouble getting-"

"Don't let it happen with your future employers." Gato looked up at the clock again, not paying attention to the numbers. He was doing it more for the sake of looking annoyed, as if he could have been doing something far more important at the moment, despite the hour. After a moment, he said, "You've already been told what to do?"

"Hai."

Gato turned, taking in the girl's appearance through the dark lenses of his sunglasses -he never took them off in private, much less for someone like this particular visitor. She was still standing in front of his door, hands nervously hidden behind her back, with one rubbing up and down her arm from wrist to elbow. Gato could see the sleeve moving from the repeating action. A pair of large dark eyes looked back him, then immediately fluttered toward the floor when they noticed him looking her over. She was dressed exactly as he had requested: in a short blue, plaited skirt that was dangerously high on her thighs and hung close to her skin as if clinging to her, then a tight-fitting button down dress shirt, topped with a blue ribbon tied around her neck to keep her collar modestly held together. The hem of her shirt was casually untucked and the bottom two buttons left undone to expose a small triangle of milky white skin over the girl's stomach. The girl’s pale skin almost glowed in the moving firelight.

Sensing where his eyes were focused, the girl shifted her weight from one hip to the other, making the triangle move smoothly across her abdomen while he continued his inspection.

By request, the knee-high socks that most of the school girls in the village wore were left off, so that the long, long legs were left bare and gleaming in the dim light of the hotel room. Almost begging to be touched.

"Take off your shoes before you come in," Gato said sternly, and then watched as the slight form bent forward. The sandals that she was wearing were old and worn looking, like the kind that could be found at a garage sale, or stolen from a chapel's clothes drive. She unclasped them slowly, hair falling forward and into her face. Then without looking up to see if he were still watching her, the girl pulled herself back up, letting her hands ghost along the length of her legs as they went. Gato didn't take his eyes off the pale white hands as they continued going up even after she was standing regularly again. They slipped under her skirt, forcing the blue material to bunch higher on his hips as her hands went up and hooked onto something underneath. She gave a swift tug downward, and let her skirt fall back into place as her hands exited, letting go of the edges of a thin, black garment and letting it slide down her legs on its own.

Daintily stepping forward, the school girl smiled sweetly in Gato’s direction, leaving the old shoes and lacy underclothes behind her.

Gato stared for a minute, then forced himself back to remembering that he was paying by the hour. Leaving his place by the fireplace, Gato motioned for the girl to follow him as he went over to an overstuffed recliner in the center of the room. After sitting down, he was given the chance to admire the girl's physique from a closer perspective, but didn't waste as much time on it as before. He reached out and planted both hands firmly on the girl's waist, pulling her onto his lap.

She was able to arrange her legs around him expertly. A little too expertly for his taste, but he wasn't going to complain about that yet and ruin the scene that he was trying to bring together in his mind. Instead, he hooked a finger under the girl's down-turned chin and lifted her face to meet his when he said, "How was school today?"

She smiled shyly at him, like she was supposed to, and replied exactly in key with the instructions he had sent ahead of time. "Sen...Sensei beat me again, Daddy."

Gato reached to the side of the chair, trying to find the shaft there that controlled the angle of the chair so he could make himself more comfortable. His other hand was settled casually at the small of the girl's back, steadily applying pressure until she was forced to lean forward, closer to him. He made his voice stern to match with the scene as he ordered, "What did you do this time, honey?"

She shifted in his lap a little, trying to find a more comfortable position for herself while leaning back into his hands. She hesitated before answering, looking at him innocently through long sooty lashes. "I was in class..." Gato laid his other hand on the girl's shoulder, playing with her collar with his thumb and forefinger. She looked at it nervously before trying to continue on with her lines, "I...I was..."

Gato smugly sent his other hand to the back of the girl's neck, pulling her forward again. This girl was turning out to be rather good at playing the part of an innocent schoolgirl, especially with the short amount of time she had been allowed to memorize it. In an amused voice, he asked, "What was that?"

He moved his hand from her collar to where the bow tied around her neck.

"In c-class, I was...uh.."

The loose bow came undone with one lazy tug. Gato’s mouth twitched into a smile as he watched it slide from her neck to pool on her skirt in a glossy heap.

The girl looked down at the ribbon, her long black bangs falling forward like before and hiding her face from view. Not that he needed to see it for the sake of her performance at the moment. He caressed the back of her head with the hand that had been previously holding her neck, then used the position to let it slip under her collar from behind. The girl shivered.

"I was d-daydreaming in class, Daddy."

"What about?"

"It was..." Head still turned downward, the girl trailed off. Her hands were folded in front of her, under the ribbon and on top of a sensitive part of his body that was very much enjoying the warmth her she was providing. But still, Gato pulled her closer, until her hands were forced to move onto his chest to keep her from losing balance. He kept one hand in her hair, sending the other to the front of the straining white shirt. She was wearing a size too small, also by request. Catching a button between his thumb and index finger, he began twisted it gently as he prompted her, "Go on."

She shuddered as his fingers popped the button out of it's slit.

"Daddy..."

He moved on to the next one, twisting it as well.

"Me, sweetheart?"

The second button gave way as easily as the first. The slits cut into the shirt were much larger than the buttons, which allowed them to become undone more easily than a real school uniform would allow. But Gato was more than willing to ignore that piece of minor information. He let his hand slither inside the opening, hearing the girl whimper feebly as her head turned to look at the wall. Her bangs were able to cover the majority of her face again. He frowned at that. There was nothing about avoiding eye contact in his fantasy.

He put one hand on her chin and forced it around, warning her by making his tone chiding as he said, in tune with the character he was playing if not the script, "It's rude not to answer a question."

He almost had the pale girl's head turned toward him, but just as he was finishing his sentence, she pulled it away. Glaring, he was about to snap at her for the insolence, when her hips rocked forward. Hard. She repeated the movement, hands curling and uncurling on his chest every time her body passed over the erection pointing up toward her. he knew that she was trying to keep him for scolding her...and it worked. Especially with the two top most buttons still open from only a few seconds ago and her cleavage heaving with her movements.

So...he decided he could let her slip slide...

He would just have to cut her pay later to reconcile.

Her fingers fisted in the extra fabric of his jacket, trying to find a decent hold and failing because of the thickness of the material. Head still down, she tried to stay in character by repeating her last line, "Daddy..."

The hand that had been on her chin had lost contact during her ministrations. It was still hovering in the air, only a few inches from her face, when one of hers darted out and captured it. After a second of gripping it in a disturbingly vicious grip, she brought it to the opening in her blouse, guiding it back to where it had originally been behind her neck. She let it rest there for a moment before skipping ahead in the script. She dragged Gato’s hand slowly over her body, moving it down between her breasts, over her stomach, then across her hip and onto her thigh.

When he took control from her and moved his hands over her again on his own, he felt her squirm on his lap, brushing against him again, whether by accident or because she wanted to make up for her mistake earlier.

Gato considered making the girl nervous by telling her flatly that he was taking at least fifty percent of her pay for her stray from the script, but decided to wait until later. He wanted to get back to the scene. So he only said, "You've been acting rude much more than usual lately."

His only answer was a weak murmuring, something that sounded close to, "I'm sorry, Taa-san..."

He rewarded the girl with a smile, confident that the warning note in his voice had been caught and that the girl wouldn't cause anymore disturbances in his fantasy. To prove his control to himself as well as the girl, he reached out to hook a finger under her chin, lifting it to give himself a head-on view of the girl's face. Half-lidded dark eyes looked back at him.

His fingers began rubbing slow circles intune with one another on her jaw and thigh. Occasionally, he let the one on her thigh travel further inward, coaxing the lithe body straddling him to raise itself up a little higher to provide better access. The girl obediently complied and responded to every touch as she was supposed to. Once again he pushed her forward so that she had to lay her hands flat against his chest for support. Following the shift in weight, the chair's back fell farther down on its own.

"Daddy..." she breathed.

"Is there something you want, sweetheart?"

"H-Hai, Taa-san, j-just..." a moan as he began pushing at the collar of her shirt to reveal one pale shoulder, "please..."

"What is it?"

Gato felt the girl's hands moving, crawling their way up from his chest to grip tightly at his shirt collar. At the same time, his hand was moving under her leg again, stroking farther upward.

"You wont like it, Daddy."

"What's that?" he asked. Like before, his voice had an undertone to it, though his made it much clearer than he was getting irritated. She was straying away from the script again!

His hand was still working according to the old routine, dragging his fingers slowly along the length of her inner thigh as they went upward again. There was a damp, unprotected area there that he saw the girl's eyes widen when he traced with the tip of one finger. Well, at least she was still in character.

One hand grabbed onto his ear suddenly, while another wrapped around the back of his neck, fingers digging in almost painfully. He was surprised that a girl of her frame could have such a hard grip, but didn't linger on the thought. The girl let her head go down again. Gato could hear the sound of her panting as she began moving her hips again.

Gato decided to forget about the dialogue, apparently the girl wasn't that good of an actress after all. Wrapping one arm around her waist to keep her from pulling away, Gato stilled the girl's movements and unceremoniously shoved an impatient finger inside her.

She stiffened. He felt her hand on the back of his neck twitch and clench uncomfortably for a moment. He couldn't see her expression, and scowled at the top of her head at the time it took her to adjust. He wanted to continue with his fantasy, regardless of whether she was "ready" or not. When girl’s upper body finally leaned willingly on his chest, the angle of her body suggested that she was deliberately trying to lifted herself ever so slightly away from him, despite the arm on her shoulder meant to keep her in place.

Her hair brushed against the underside of his jaw as she squirmed. He sent another finger inside her and eagerly started to explore the inner folds. He ignored the groan he heard from her, whether it was from pleasure or distaste. Her hand tighten on his ear, but in turn, he moved his other arm down to her waist and geld on more firmly.

"Taa-san..." the girl's head brushed more insistently against his neck, "please...I..."

Gato smirked to himself at the girl's hoarse tone. For a professional, she was very poor at customer service, it seemed. He pushed her down against his fingers and heard her suck in a breath against his throat. "Please what, sweetheart?"

Arms stiff, the girl pushed herself away from him just enough so that she was able to raise her head. Her eyes were closed, though her forehead was wrinkled in strain. "Daddy..."

Gato repositioned his fingers, twistedly enjoying himself as her saw her expression changing.

Until her eyes opened.

He couldn't remember the exact color of the girl's eyes when she had come into his room. It was such a small detail...but he was sure, beyond all doubt, that he would have noticed a pair of bright red eyes earlier. Even if they were on a common whore. Both of the hands on Gato’s head clutched him in a deathly tight grip, keeping him from turning away or pushing her off of him. The black spots in her eyes started spinning, even while a voice in the back of his head dully said that it was impossible. One's irises just weren't capable of having...

In a deadpan voice, the girl reestablished her hold on him and said, "For the next twenty-four hours, you're going to be castrated by twelve year old girls, Daddy."

kkkkkkkkkkk

Itachi cringed when the face in front of him contorted first in panic, then pain as his sharringon's instructions took effect. He didn't feel guilty for causing the pitiful expression on the grubby little man, he had used his special ability countless people before without as much justification for relish. Itachi cringed because, as Gato’s body spasmed before falling limp, he felt the unnerving sensation of fingers cruelly clawing inside him for a brief moment before they too, became limp.

He pulled himself off of the smaller body, ignoring the feeling of fat fingers sliding out of his lower regions. There was a mirror hanging on the wall directly across from where Itachi was standing, so that he couldn't help seeing his own disguised reflection before letting the henge go and switching back into his regular gender. Though, since the clothing wasn't included in the jutsu, the mirror tauntingly showed him a reflection of himself in his proper gender, still clad in the schoolgirl uniform that he and Kisame had taken from the original hooker.

For the life of him, Itachi couldn't remember why he agreed to this plan.

He waited a moment, watching the man laying on the recliner next to him twitch. Of course, he knew that the man wouldn't be waking up right away, having used his sharringon multiple times before in his line of work, but he couldn't help wanting to see the man's eyes fly open so that he could throw a punch to knock him out again. He was known among their comrades and enemies for his apathetic mannerisms, but somehow feeling the man's grubby hands on him had managed to hit a disgusted note in him. He'd felt his sharringon flair to life ahead of plan twice. Not that killing Gato would have been difficult, actually, it might have been the slightest bit pleasurable for the Uchiha. But unfortunately, he had to restrain himself. Kisame needed time to take care of the bodyguards stationed throughout the hotel floors, elevator, and as they discovered on their way here, several of the surrounding street corners.

Apparently, this Gato was a very paranoid man.

Looking up at the mirror again, Itachi fought the urge to tug at the short skirt. He took a step forward, and then fought the urge to cringe as the garment moved against him. Not that he cared, but the fabric was swaying and caressing him in a way that was ever so slightly distracting from his mission, not to mention incredibly annoying. The suppressed, more compulsive part of his personality was telling him to rip the uniform off, set it on fire, and then run to the nearest bathroom and ruthlessly scrub himself until he lost at least two layers of skin.

But naturally, he couldn't do that. For one thing, it would be very awkward explaining what happened to his clothes to Kisame.

Though, depending on the shark ninja’s reaction...

Itachi stopped that train of thought before it could progress. He was on duty.

The air felt strange, though not completely uncomfortable, against Itachi's legs as he strode across the room. He was wasting time thinking when there was still a mission to carry out. Kisame was likely finished with the nearest guards, but that didn't mean that there weren't others that could still find them before they come escape the hotel undetected.

The first place he wanted to search for information was the desk. An obvious place, but from what he knew, Gato hadn't been aware that he was being watched by Akatsuki agents.

Itachi took two steps toward the designated furniture piece, before noticing a small, expensive looking frame propped up on the corner of the desk. The photograph it held showed the old man behind him with a pair of little girls, twins. Schoolgirls. The resemblances between the eight year old girls and Gato was strong enough to suggest a family relation, though the idea of any woman marrying the man sprawled out on the recliner was sickening in itself. After thirty seconds of staring (a long time by his standards), he looked away from the picture in disgust, trying to focus on his mission again.

Itachi decided to turn to the shelf above the fireplace first. Purely because it was closer and would take less time, and not because the photograph combined with the memory of the old man's "script" was too disturbing to think about at once. So he flipped through the books that were stacked there, looking between the pages for any loose papers that might have held the information he needed.

But it seemed there was nothing concerning his mission to be found there.

Turning around, he spotted a fully stocked bookcase on the opposite side of the room, but even the subconscious squeamishness brought on by the experience of three minutes ago with Gato couldn't override the common sense of checking the desk first. Like he said before, the chances of Gato expecting a search on his room were slim at best. And checking the bookcase would take too long. If Itachi came to going through every volume on the bookcase, he would probably have to drag Kisame in and have him assist in the search, anyway.

The skirt mockingly caressed the upper most areas on Itachi's legs as he approached the desk. It was a reminder to the fact that he was still made up as a schoolgirl-hooker. Though, on the positive side of that, if any remaining guards saw him dragging Kisame into a hotel room, they would think it was for entirely different reasons...

Itachi opened the top drawer of the desk and began shifting through the items inside. Unfortunately, the drawer was mostly empty, as most hotel furnishings were. There was a book for some religious group or another, a note pad (blank, he checked), and a few pens with the hotel's logo on them. Then in the second, there was nothing but a folder containing blue prints and reports on the progress of bridge being built somewhere in the Wave Country, and another paper at the back that a had multiple figures written on it. Itachi didn't bother looking at either too closely. Instead, he put the papers back in the order that he had found them and closed the drawer.

It was important that Gato did not notice anything out of place, for fear that if he discovered the presence of outside shinobi, he would make the rest of the mission difficult. Not impossible, Itachi and Kisame were professionals. But Gato’s tendency to hire whatever psychotic creature capable of slitting a human throat, could make completing their mission considerably more bothersome.

There were only so many places that one could hide papers inside the hotel room. The bookshelf was still there, glaring at him from the corner, but there were other places to look first.

He turned around and went over to a trunk sitting at the foot of Gato’s bed; he had spotted it when he first came in. There were very few bags in the room, Itachi guessed that they were probably kept somewhere else, but for some reason this trunk had been left in clear view of anyone who came in. Kneeling in front of it, Itachi quickly picked the lock on the lid and pushed it open.

The trunk's contents weren't dull, routine travel effects as he had expected in a worse case scenario...though...in a way, it was just as disappointing as a spare pair of shoes and shirts, if not the slightest bit disturbing. Inside the trunk there where obnoxiously bright colored clothes. Like a neon pink wild west styled shirt, electric blue chaps, spurs, and a yellow cowboy hat, with matching studded boots.

There was a half conscious thought in the back of Itachi's mind that mused that he had never see yellow studded cowboy boots before, but then Itachi's eyes fell on the coiled whip resting neatly on the bedside table for easy and quick access, and promptly decided that he didn't want to waste time musing, or thumbing through the rest of the trunk's contents. Obviously, the document he was looking for was not kept in there.

Standing up and turning away from the trunk, Itachi looked over the room one more time. The bookcase was the only other piece of furniture, but just as he started to walk toward it, something occurred to Itachi. This man had guards outside his hotel room. That was a clear sign of paranoia. So maybe he would be crazy enough to carry papers on...?

Turning to the old man, Itachi saw that Gato was still twitching a little. It was rare for people not to fall directly into a death-like unconsciousness after entering their mental trauma, and even rarer for the occasional exception to last this long. Walking towards him, Itachi looked the short man over. His sharringon had never failed him yet; and he didn't think that it would do so for the first time with this grubby little business man instead of a powerful ninja. The chances of him waking up weren't even considerable at this point.

When he was standing over Gato’s body, he quickly located the pockets on the man's suit. With one hand, he flicked the jacket open, face impassive as he pulled the folds aside and saw the bulk of the man's fat rolls being pushed up and out by his snug fitting pants. There was a vest there, adding two more pockets to his assumption, and then the possibility of another on the dress shirt underneath. Itachi almost started glaring at it. But he leaned over the smaller man's chest nevertheless, and laid his palms flat over either breast pockets. He didn't feel the tell-tale crinkle of paper, and after applying a little more pressure, assured himself that there likely wasn't anything in the pocket underneath.

Because of how often the man had insisted on having Itachi lean on his chest, he already knew that there were pockets on the side of the jacket; he had felt solid objects that he highly doubted were parts of this doughy man's chest. The flaps of the jacket where laid out on either armrest, waiting for Itachi's inspection. The right hand pocket, the one farther away from where Itachi was standing, held nothing but an empty leather bound glasses case. Why the man wore sunglasses this late at night, indoors, and with this incredibly dim lighting, though was another thing that he didn’t spend too much time wondering about.

He turned out the left pocket and found another leather case of sorts. But despite looking promising, when Itachi opened it, he found only a vast amount of the Wave Country’s currency. Useful if they were actually in the Wave Country, but seeing as how they were not, and that they had nothing to do with his mission, Itachi replaced it into Gato’s jacket.

Itachi glanced southward on Gato’s body. There were no other pockets on his upper body, and he was going to have to check all of Gato’s person...

And then there was still the bookcase...

Pushing back on the chair, Itachi forced the recliner to hold Gato’s body in a lying position. It would make searching him easier. The older man groan in his sleep, making Itachi mentally debate the sense of just breaking his neck and getting the job done with faster. But no, he was Uchiha Itachi, and that meant being a little more professional than that.

He moved his hands up and down Gato’s legs once, fingers branching out and feeling for any unusual stitched in places that could have held a folded piece of paper.

Gato made another noise.

Itachi sent up a glare.

Straightening, the Uchiha tugged the edges of the jacket a little farther out of the way before bending over the man again. He dipped a hand into one of the front trouser pockets, noting with only the slightest tone of irritation that they really did go deep for such a short pair of pants. His arm slipped in halfway to his elbow before his finally touched the bottom of the pocket with his finger tip and pulled out. The other front pocket was just as deep, and just as empty save for an old candy wrapper and a pocket lint clump.

That left two more.

Not that he was effected by it in the least. He rolled the man over, hearing another, louder, groan as he did so. He wondered if his touches were being wrapped by Gato’s subconscious in his "dream." Not that the Uchiha would take pleasure from thinking something like that.

He shoved aside the hem of the man's jacket. The man whimpered loudly when Itachi laid his hand over one back pocket, pressing down as firmly as he had on the vest, feeling nothing inside it. He thought his felt the man's cheeks clench in discomfort. Itachi suppressed a shudder as he repeated his groping on the remaining pocket. Which also made him inwardly twitch when he felt an object inside and pulled out a foil wrapped packet that he recognized after only a second of studying. He dropped it to the floor immediately after reading the words “Banana Flavored.”

Itachi scowled to himself and was tempted to give the bastard's ass a hard slap just to hear the sound he made when it was translated into his nightmare by a random, murderous school girl. Now he only had one place left to search, but as his head turned to look at the dastardly bookcase, his eyes flickered over the mirror again, and his current, female attire. He decided that he was going to make good on his earlier promise to drag Kisame in to help him. As far as he was concerned, the shark-nin had gotten the better job.

It was cold out in the hallway, but thankfully empty. Itachi had reinstated his earlier henge before leaving the room to be safe, but even when he technically was not walking around as a dragqueen, he resented the idea of having his legs free for gawking by anything owning a cock that just happened to walk by. In his personal opinion, he got enough stares from all the wrong people walking down the street as a fully dressed male.

Locating Kisame was relatively easy, even with his chakra hidden. For one thing, most people in the hotel were asleep at the current time, or at least participating in whatever late night activates the favored, in their rooms. And for a second reason, Kisame was patrolling the halls to make sure that anyone who had seen the schoolgirl go into Gato’s room would not be around to see "her" come out. Itachi only needed to walk to the end of the hall and start to turn the corner when he heard an amused sounding, "Do I want to know what took you?"

Turning around, Itachi glared at his partner for his suggestive tone.

Kisame was grinning at him, the same cheeky grin that he had blatantly used the moment he saw Itachi slip into the plaited skirt. Anyone else who knew Itachi would have immediately sobered. But, Kisame spent too much time around him to take effect at the clearly displeased look he was receiving. Chuckling and forcing his attention up to Itachi's face, he said, "So did you find it?"

"No." Itachi shifted his weight, watching Kisame's face. Unlike Gato, Kisame's eyes didn't dart downward to drool over the exposed skin. When Kisame looked over his body, it was when he was reveling in the novelty of seeing his frigid partner dressed as a corrupt school teacher's wet dream.

Itachi glared at the observation. Without a word he started walking down the hall, tugging on his partner's cloak when he walked by to let him know that he wanted to be followed. Kisame was probably the only male with working eyes that didn't watch the backs of his legs as he led him back into the hotel room.

Kisame was standing by the door when he turned around. Itachi started to motion toward the bookcase, but stopped when he noticed that Kisame was standing directly next to the old pair of sandals that he had been wearing when he came into the hotel room. And the lacy panties draped carelessly over them. They had belonged to the hooker, of course... But Kisame only had to look down to see...

Snapping himself back, Itachi cleared his throat and said, "The bookcase is the only place left to look."

"You brought me in here to search a bookcase?"

"Hn." Itachi sent his partner another glare, which might have come out a little less fierce than his earlier one by the fact that he was inwardly begging the shark-nin not to look down.

Really, next time Kisame could be the schoolgirl...

Kisame shook his head, looking over Itachi once more, mouth pulling into a grin despite the death glare that was already angled at him, and walked across the room to where the bookcase stood against the wall. Itachi stood next to him, waiting for Kisame to step aside so that he could start looking through the books as well. However, Itachi's mild annoyance turned to pure irritation when the first, randomly chosen book his partner picked off the shelf, after Itachi had searched the desk, the trunk, and even the grubby little man's person, dislodged a double folded piece of paper that someone had clearly shoved between the books for safe keeping. It fluttered to the ground, landing between them with a barely audible pat.

Kisame smiled superiorly.

Itachi still wanted to kill the old man out of spite.

kkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

They only stopped once while leaving from their next destination. Itachi, now dressed in his proper Akatsuki uniform and slowly adding the night's earlier events to the darkened corner of his mind to reside with other memories that would never be relived, such as his childhood and more or less every encounter he ever had with Orochimaru, paused to toss the schoolgirl uniform into the nearest trash can on the outskirts of the village. When they started moving again, Kisame grinned playfully at him while asking, "You sure you didn't want to keep that?"

Itachi sent him a glared, though his partner couldn't see it in the darkness as they left civilization.

There was very little spoken between them as the made their way toward the Wave Country. Which, of course, was normal for Itachi. But Kisame was an entirely different story, which made Itachi sneak coveted glances at his partner, half expecting to be caught staring and half unsurprised to see the shark-nin staring mutely ahead of himself. Usually Kisame was more than willing to talk. And though at the moment they were in a hurry, it was still unusual for him to just be silent. It almost made Itachi want to ask if something had happened, but of course he wasn't going to. For one thing, Itachi knew for a fact that nothing unusual had happened to his partner during their last vacation, and for another, Itachi starting a conversation would have only made his comrade concerned for him instead.

They were too busy to get into anything like that at the moment anyway. The information they had gotten from Gato gave them the specific dates and locations for their real target. And brought with it the sudden discovery that the best opportunity to carry out their mission was in less than five hours. Luckily, the journey wasn't a terribly long one. Gato must have been on his way to the Wave Country when they were tracking him, because the town he was staying in was very close to the country’s boarders. The most difficult part of the trip was getting a boat to take them out to the islands that made up the country, and then trying to stay alert through the mostly uneventful voyage.

Tracking their target had been only slightly less easy than Itachi had originally thought it would be. The island's residents were for the most part still asleep by the time they arrived, the sky still being dark enough to be considered night by civilians that did not own clocks. And, knowing that even in a pitifully poverty ridden village it was not good to be seen by locals, which included the a pack of old fishermen starved to the point of delirium that had granted them passage, they slipped into the surrounding wooded area as quickly as possible.

Kisame and Itachi spilt up, just enough so that they couldn't be seen together while searching within hearing distance. The island was small enough to permit it.

But their searching didn't last long. Sharringon activated and enhancing his eyesight, Itachi spotted a movement up in the trees. Though it was more by turning his head at just the right time than actually sensing his target's presence, Itachi was able to track the other ninja's movements. He pretend not to have seen anything, casually walking around the outskirts of the village and knowing that the boy was watching him curiously from where he was hiding. He waited for him to come close, like an animal one encounters in the middle of nowhere, before attacking.

Though, Itachi had thought that attacking would be easy. He'd done this plenty of times before...but he was abruptly brought into the knowledge that Akatsuki had been asked to hunt down this boy for a reason. The kid was fast. No sooner had Itachi snapped his head around to pin the kid with the same sharringon technique that he used on Gato, had the boy already jumped out of the range.

The trees ruffled a little, indicating that his target had been at least startled before moving, but nonetheless. Itachi had to go in after him, despite thinking that the idea of chasing another nin in general was pointless. Why do it if they were just going to have to fight again after uselessly expending energy? Unfortunately, since not giving chase would allow his target to escape, Itachi had no other choice.

But he did discover a helpful fact after the first two minutes of pointlessly following after his fifteen year old target: the boy was staying in the same basic area, running back and forth around the outer edges of the island town as if he had something to wait for. After that observation became known, it was only a matter of subtly herding the boy until he could control the direction that the fifteen year old missing nin went in. Not that he really needed to, as he realized when they ran right into the path of his partner, and their target, seeing only Kisame's shadowed silhouette, ran straight for him.

"Za..." The boy started to say what Itachi was sure was a name, but it stopped when he came close enough to see that whoever he was looking for, Kisame obviously was not him.

Their target found out that Kisame was not whoever he was hoping for too late. He started to turned, but then he saw Itachi right behind him, and hesitated one second too long. Kisame's fist made solid contact with the place directly between the boy's neck and shoulder, knocking him out instantly. Of course, since the boy was masked, Itachi couldn't see if the attack had worked until he saw their target's small body fall limply forward.

Kisame shot him another teasing smile as he gathered their target into his arms.

Itachi grunted in annoyance. Apparently despite being put on edge because of their mission, Kisame was still executing his part of their job perfectly.

By now it was too late for them to leave the island. Dressed the way they were, there was no way that they would not attract attention if they went into town, even if they weren't carrying an unconscious teenager with them.

But staying on the island brought a different threat to their mission: their target had a partner. They had been dully warned about a largely built swordsman before they left to follow Gato. Though, since he hadn't come to help his partner, it was unlikely that he was anywhere nearby. Unless the boy's partner was planning on a sneak attack .

Kisame and Itachi decided that it was best to move farther away from the village incase that happened. They had capture their target. The only thing that could spoil their mission now was unwanted attention coming their way between now and when they slipped back into the village to bribe a half-starved fisherman into taking them back to the mainland after nightfall.

They bound the boy's hands behind him as an extra measure of protection in case the boy awakened before then. When they decided on a place that seemed remotely safe, Kisame unceremoniously deposited the unconscious body on the leaf strewn ground and kneeled next to him. The boy was rolled onto his stomach, letting out a slight groan.

Itachi turned around and leaned his back leisurely against a tree to watch as his partner's hands began roving over their target's body, feeling along the boy's sides and down the backs of his legs for weapons. It was a normal procedure, checking their captive's body for any weapons that he could use to escape. Still, Itachi's eyes stayed focused on the blue hands as they trailed along the fifteen year old's arms and back, removing freakishly large needles as he found them. At one point, Kisame lifted the boy up and held him off the ground, almost cradling him to keep the hand's from being crushed under the body's weight as he checked the other side. One white hand twitched inside the abundant sleeves of the Akatsuki cloak a short distance away, unseen by Kisame as he raked his over their target's chest for any unusual bumps or sharp points. He had to do this twice because their target wore layers of loose clothing, feeling and stroking every hollow and curve of the unconscious boy's body.

When Kisame glanced up at him, possibly feeling the other’s eyes on him, he didn’t think anything was out of the ordinary. Itachi looked murderous half the time anyway.

The needles seemed to have been the boy's only weapon. They were also warned to be careful of them during the briefing before accepting the mission, though neither Kisame or Itachi expected that to be the boy's only weapon. How could someone be a ninja only using a weapon with such a low fatality rate? Perhaps the boy's partner carried all other weapons for the both of them, though that method seemed ridiculous. Especially if they were going to be separated from each other long enough for the masked boy to be captured by hunter nins, or in this case, Akatsuki agents.

Though, Itachi thought to himself as his eyes stayed focused on the other missing nin, Kisame was probably relieved that the boy had been alone on the island. Before leaving their home base, the shark-nin had bluntly stated that he did not want any confrontations with the boy's partner if it they could be avoided. Personally, Itachi was sure that with the boy unable to fight and both Kisame and Itachi present, the unwanted party wouldn't have been able to cause any problems. But for some reason, Kisame made it clear that he wanted to do their job as quietly as possible. He didn't give any details why, and pressing for them simply wasn't something that Itachi did.

From what they had been told before accepting the mission, the boy had been a missing nin for years without being noticed. He pretended to be a hunter nin, capturing and re-capturing the same man over the last four years while pretending to be a member of the Mist's extinguishing squad. That had been how he was eventually discovered. Rumors eventually reached the Mist's council about the death of an exiled ninja, without a report being handed in, or a head brought back as proof. Someone on the council had finally figured it out. The exiled Mist nin was in league with a false member of the extinguishing squad. Which was what brought them to hiring Akatsuki to hunt down the hunter nin impersonator. Though, considering the Mist's tendency to kill their exiled shinobi at any opportunity, and Kisame's membership of the organization, Itachi guessed that it was only one member of the council that made the request, instead of an official decision.

The mission was only to bring back the impersonator. The boy's partner was still an exiled nin, and one that the Water Country was aware of and could hunt down on their own, whereas the boy pretending to be a hunter nin was mystery that they wanted solved as quickly and as quietly, as possible. All the same, they were also told that if the boy's partner got in the way, killing him could be over looked. Though, their idea of "looked over" included doubling their pay.

But then there was Kisame, insisting that they could get the job done just fine without so much as glancing at Momochi Zabuza.

Kisame finally lowered their target's body to the ground, weapon check complete. There was a surprisingly large pile of needles on the forest floor beside the shark-nin, which he made sure to move out of sight incase the boy woke up soon, before taking his sword off his shoulders and standing it up against a tree. Looking to where Itachi was standing, Kisame asked, "Are you alright taking the first watch?"

Itachi blinked, bring himself out of staring at his partner and renewing his interest in his ears. He shrug indifferently in response, despite the fact that he hadn't slept himself in two days. He watched Kisame make himself comfortable on the forest floor. Their target, disarmed and still masked, was laying curled up just a short arm's distance away.

There were five minutes of silence afterward, only broken by the sound of birds waking up in the trees over head. It was normally difficult for any ninja to fall asleep outside. After all, one was far more likely to be discovered by enemy ninja while he was unconscious and out in the open then inside a cheap hotel room. But Itachi noted that his partner was sleeping peacefully almost instantly. Along with acting strangely, Kisame's sleeping habits had also been effected since accepting this mission. Though, over the past few days the problem had been getting to sleep, Itachi surmised that his partner was more relaxed now that they had actually captured the boy.

He must have been tired.

There was a twinge in the back of his mind that told Itachi he should have been a bit more concerned about his partner's health, but it was overridden quickly. Sure, Kisame was from the same village as their targets, but it wasn't the first time that their work had required them to hunt down Mist nins. And if Kisame knew someone, he usually said so, even without Itachi asking. It helped to have personal information about a target while on a mission.

But Itachi pushed all thoughts about their mission to the side as his eyes focused on the space between his partner and their captive. The short, almost none-existent space. Eyes narrowing, he took a step toward the sleeping shark-nin. He walked carefully, so not to break a single dried leaf as he went to crouch down next to the larger ninja.

Their target was unconscious, they were all alone...Itachi's ears became more alert as he listened once more for any sounds of approaching ninja and civilians alike. He knew that this was when his obsession often got the better of him.

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Sometime around when Itachi began growing his hair out and looking at different kinds of skin lotion, he discovered that a very important part of his up bringing had been skipped over.

As a child, he had been exceptionally bright. Enough so that he was quickly whisked through school and pitched head first into the ninja world before reaching the age of seven. And as it happened, he was taken out of his sixth grade class, after already being a five year old working among twelve year olds, exactly three weeks before the teachers separated the girls and the boys into different classrooms to explain the wonders of their genders. Though, considering Itachi's age, the educators might have decided not to have put him in either group anyway. But by the time that he was twelve and considered physically, as well as mentally, old enough for "the talk," he was already at a status as a ninja that a full grown man could work his entire life to reach. And his father, as well as all other older males in Itachi's life, conveniently failed to notice the fact that he wasn't a fully grown man.

So Itachi had to find out about the wonders and horrors of teenage hormones by, for lack of a better term, stumbling blindly in the dark. Literally.

Itachi had already started growing hair in new places and had gone through hearing his voice change before he left the Leaf, thus helping his family to excuse the fact that no one had bothered to warn him about the other part of "becoming a man" before they were all killed. The exact night that Itachi learned what no one else had thought to tell him, he had been on a mission in the Lightening Country with his shark-like partner. And befitting the country's name, a thunder storm had started up before they rented a room in the most inconspicuous hotel they could find. Kisame went to bed immediately, tired from the rush to find accommodations before the rain started. But Itachi, after spending two nights in a row trekking through the countryside, wanted a shower. And his luck would just so have it that the lights were shut down because of the storm, just as he was getting out of the shower stall.

He had stood there, one hand still reaching in and holding onto the hot water nozzle, with nothing but a towel around his shoulders. He couldn’t see where he had left his clothes. For a minute, he thought that maybe the lights would come back on, but he became impatient after noting from the dropping temperature, that the heater must have given out along with the electricity. The cold air was seeped into his damp and uncovered skin, as he made the startling realization that any chance that he might have had at finding his clothes was useless. By standing still in the bathroom, sobbing wet, he had let the water drip off his body and onto the floor.

Itachi argued with himself, frowning as he did so, that even the most idiotic of ninjas wouldn't be stupid enough to wander around in the dark on a wet tile floor (though he might have changed his mind if he were to look into the future and meet his little brother's future blonde haired teammate, but that's not a part of this story at all). So after a minute of debate, Itachi decided that it would be better to simply come back for his clothes in the morning, when there would be plenty of light and the water would have dried, rather than take three steps before slipping and cracking his skull open in a very un-Uchiha-like manner. Kisame might snicker when he noticed he was naked in the morning, but it wasn't like they hadn't seen each other without clothes at bathhouses...

Thus thinking, the surprisingly naive fourteen year old killer wrapped his towel snuggly around his waist and turned to leave. By feeling along the wall, he was able to locate the door within a matter of minutes, and opened it to go out into the bedroom. Unfortunately, the only thing that told him when he had passed into the other room was the change from tile to carpet under his feet. The bedroom’s lighting was just as dark as it the bathroom’s.

He pushed away from the wall, squinting stubbornly into the darkness despite the fact that there was no light to begin with and thus nothing for his eyes to adjust to. He tired to picture the layout of the room from memory, determined to find his own bed without stumbling or crashing into anything in a way that would leave him with uncomfortable bruises to travel with the next day.

He was out in the darkness for nearly fifteen minutes, taking painfully small steps with his arms set out in front of him so that he would know about any sudden large, blunt objects in his path. When his outstretched fingers finally brushed against a soft surface, he felt along the top of it to make sure that it was indeed the blankets covering his bed and not a tablecloth, before climbing onto it. He crawled to the head of the bed, quickly pulling back the covers and sinking contentedly into the mattress, despite his damp towel. Sleep was coming easily after the past few days, coming onto him and coaxing is eyelids to close...then he felt it.

His eyes snapped back open immediately, hand clenching under the pillow, and inwardly cursing when he remembered that there wasn't a kunai there for him to take out. It had been a very obvious shift on the bed, and it had definitely not been made by him.

Despite what others may or may not have thought, Uchiha Itachi was very capable of panic when he was a fourteen year old boy, naked and unarmed, in the same bed as a possible hunter nin or ANBU member that had finally managed to track either him or his partner down for their village. Itachi's eyes opened a little wider. What if Kisame had already been killed? The Mist tended to kill first and ask questions later, and the Leaf definitely wouldn't hesitate to slaughter a missing nin in his sleep.

He felt another shift, a little closer to where he was laying. If Itachi kicked back his leg, he might have been able to hit the stranger in the calf, or maybe higher, granted if his attacker wasn’t female. Itachi's sharringon was useless if his attacker couldn't even see it, but maybe if he turned around now he could catch his attacker by surprise, or...

Itachi's whole body jerked at once when he felt another shift in the mattress. He heard a murmur from somewhere behind him, followed by yet another shift, bringing the stranger close enough for the warmth of his body to radiate into Itachi's skin. The Uchiha's body tensed for the attack he knew would be coming. He was just weighing the chances of strangling the possible hunter nin if he turned around now, when he felt a warm weight snake around his midsection from behind.

Itachi froze in mid thought. His hands shot to the arm on impulse, intending the to rip it away from him, and possibly break his attacker's wrist if possible. But then he felt the warm, roughness to the skin's texture.

He knew who that unusual kind of skin belonged to.

"Kisame?" Itachi was pleased to hear that his voice came out in its normal, if not slightly annoyed, tone. If it gave away even the tiniest hint of how nervous he had been a second ago, the shark-nin would never let him hear the end of it. And they had a long time to go before they were finished traveling through the middle of nowhere with nothing to keep the ex-Mist nin entertained but teasing.

There was no sound in response to the name, save for what came from rain hitting against the windowpane outside, and the steady breathing of the other shinobi. Kisame was asleep. Itachi's hand relaxed a bit on his partner's. He must have just walked into the wrong bed when he came out of the bathroom. Not that it would have been hard to do, Itachi excused himself.

He laid there in his partner's arms for a moment, thinking. He should have gotten up immediately to try following the wall to find the other bed, but just as Itachi was telling his muscles to move, he stopped. It had been three months since the off night when he had followed Kisame around the civilian city. He still had a clear memory of sniffing through second nameless, black haired man's apartment until he heard the sound of footsteps from inside the bedroom, and had to run as if his life depended on it to find Kisame's apartment and drive head first into his bed to be there before his partner came home. Though, Itachi ended up falling asleep while watching the red numbers on the shark-nin‘s alarm clock before that happened. Kisame must have gone to see another one of his friends on the way back to his apartment.

So now, laying in bed with his partner more or less holding him, the fourteen year old couldn't help but wonder...What exactly did Kisame do at the people's houses? Was this it? Itachi began to frown as his mind followed the train of thought. Sure, he and Kisame lost sleep on some of their missions, but he found it hard to believe that it would make Kisame want to sleep with so many people during the night. Especially if he was going to try to sleep with two or three before finally going back to his own apartment and sleeping by himself almost throughout the entire next day. Then start the routine over again the next ni...

Itachi stopped in mid thought again for the same reason as before. He felt another shift on the bed. He laid perfectly still, waiting for it to pass, while Kisame's arm wrapped itself more firmly around him, pulling their bodies more closely together. With a sudden shiver, Itachi noticed Kisame's head come up directly behind his. He could feel the ex-Mist nin's exhales ghosting over the back of his neck as his nose burrowed unabashedly into his hair.

A moment later, Itachi gave up trying to think of a reason why his arms were suddenly breaking out with goose bumps at the feeling. It was just Kisame, breathing on a part of his body that was normally covered and therefore unused to contact with anything other than the occasional scratch from his own hand. Rooting that explanation in his head, Itachi went about trying to solve the problem. One hand going down to keep his towel in place and the other bracing itself against the mattress to lift him up, he started to move away from his partner's sleeping form. Until a second arm darted forward through the gap that formed between his neck and the mattress, wrapping itself firmly around his shoulders. Itachi had barely moved more than an inch. And now his was trapped with his partner's chest rising and falling against his back.

The possibility of Kisame actually being awake crossed his mind as he laid, unresisting, in his partner's arm. With the blackout, he couldn't really threaten Kisame with his sharringon or fire a death glare, and even in full daylight, Kisame often liked to tease him...That could have been it. But just as he was trying to pull himself away to check, the arm on his waist tightened, pulling him back down hard. Kisame murmured something sleepily into his neck, lips almost brushing against Itachi's skin, and forcing another involuntary shiver to break out.

"Kisame?" Itachi said more loudly than before. He was rapidly coming to the decision that he wanted to get up, now. He could still hear the rain pounding down at full force, but he was getting uncomfortably warm. Kisame must have left too many blankets on the bed, and then he had Kisame's body heat seeping into his skin from behind. A very thin sheen of sweat was already forming on the Uchiha heir's delicate, pale forehead as he tried to force himself to relax under the heat and wait until his partner's grip loosened. But, damnit, Kisame didn't seem effected by it at all!

Itachi sent one of his hands behind him to Kisame's chest, intending to push away, forgetting the decision to stay put, but that only brought a sudden realization to Itachi's attention that he should have noticed sooner. Kisame was wasn't wearing a shirt. He was bare chest, and sleepily pressing himself into Itachi's equally unclothed back. Painfully aware of how his body was reacting to the situation, Itachi let his hand slide a little lower...just in case he didn't notice anything else missing...

Thankfully, Itachi's fingertips encountered a soft, loose material just above the other missing nin's hipbone. It was thin, but nevertheless, it was another layer separating him from Kisame other than the flimsy towel. Itachi almost breathed a sigh of relief.

Forcing his head to lay flat against the pillow, Itachi tried to tell himself again to relax. But since his body wasn't used to the feeling of something warm and breathing pressed so closely behind him, it refused to obey his command. For the first time in his life, he was experiencing an urge to fidget, all the while thinking that maybe he had caught a fever of some kind while they were traveling, and that maybe that was why the sheets were sticking to his body. Kisame wasn't sweating at all, and his breathing was still coming out normally.

Kisame, even in sleep it seemed, was still good at picking up on Itachi's discomfort. And, it seemed even more horrifyingly to the younger missing nin, he was still extremely talented at increasing it. Kisame began stroking the hand on Itachi's stomach up and down in a sleepy, absent minded rhythm. Up and down, up and down.

Itachi tried to back away from the unwelcome touch, but it only pressed himself more firmly against Kisame’s chest. And the hand only followed him, trapping him there and causing warmth to coil in his stomach with it's slow caressing. Itachi heard himself smothering a whimper as the curious warmth grew under his partner's touch, crowding up his stomach and then having to move lower, into...

The fourteen year old Uchiha's eyes grew round.

Kisame's lips moved against the back of his neck again, murmuring something intelligible and tightening his arms briefly, before settling back into a deadweight on the smaller frame.

Itachi was still staring wide-eyed into the darkness. He felt...something... Itachi swallowed. No, he had to have been imagining things because of the heat. There was no way...Well, he had definitely never heard of... Shaking slightly, Itachi's right and only free hand, because of how Kisame was holding him, slid down to the front of the towel.

His eyes bulged all the wider when he felt solid proof that he wasn't hallucinating. With Kisame's head still buried in his hair, Itachi carefully moved the front of the towel aside, just to make sure...the instant sensation made him hiss out loud. If Kisame had been awake, he would have doubtlessly heard the sound. However he wasn't. And Itachi's fingers felt wonderingly along the curiously sensitive flesh, teeth digging into his lower lip to muffle any sound. Maybe...maybe he had caught something when they were traveling.

His experimentation was cut short by Kisame's hand moving again. He must have felt the way Itachi's body jerked suddenly when he hand wrapped tightly around the swollen member on his own body, the ensuing sensation wasn't what he was expecting. He let out a loud gasp, and then felt Kisame's hand move again, more slowly than before, but that didn't matter. Itachi thought he tasted blood on his tongue as he renewed the strength in his teeth, biting on his lip, even while his body responded to the platonic touch. His eyes became half lidded as his self control dwindled down and his hand began moving faster on his cock. Another whimper came out of his mouth as he began to feel a desperate ache begging to be sated.

His breathing picked up as his hips began jerking along with his hand. Vaguely, he was aware that he was hitting Kisame's stomach every time he rocked back, but his attention span was shrinking too quickly for him to care. It was getting uncomfortable, and the faster he tried to satisfy himself, the more the ache grew.

His towel had long since been pushed off his hips completely, either because of his movements or Kisame's hand accidentally pushing it aside. He didn't remember. At one point, Kisame's hand stopped its movements, and Itachi was just able to catch himself before ramming his elbow into the other missing nin's side to make him start again. If Kisame woke up, he might have made Itachi stop whatever it was he was doing.

Itachi's eyes squeezed shut as he made his grip harsher when he thrust forward. He could faintly hear the sound of the springs under him creaking from his movements, and his own rapid breathing. The sweat on his body was making the sheet cling to him. Wherever his towel had gone to, he didn't care. Whatever he was thinking about that made him so damn uncomfortable before was gone as his mind grew slower and his body's rhythm faster until...

"Ahhhh!"

Itachi's mind went blank, and for a moment he thought that the electricity had come back as behind his eyelids he saw a sudden, startling white. It was a moment before he realized that his hand had stopped moving, and that there was something other than sweat sticking to the sheets and his palm. He couldn't see his hand when it was directly in front of his face, but he tried sniffing the strange substance, and frowned at the foreign scent. He had smelled it before, or something similar to it. Once, when he was a very small child and crawled into his parents bedroom in the middle of the night. Though, why would...?

Kisame's arms were still present around his person, as Itachi discovered when he tried to sit up in bed. He was forced to admit that even when asleep, the shark-nin still had the superior grip.

Frowning again, Itachi turned around in his partner's hold. Halfway through the act, he was reminded of the fact that he was now laying in his partner's arms, completely and totally naked. And what's more, that his partner was holding him very, very close. Itachi's breathing hitched as he turned around and felt the warm, rough skin against his still sensitive appendage. The only movement against it was the simple rise and fall of the shark-nin's breathing, but it was enough to make the organ twitch.

Itachi swallowed.

Placing his one free hand one Kisame's shoulder and shaking it lightly, Itachi hissed, "K...Kisame?"

There was no response, other than a slight shifting of weight, as Kisame's stomach moved, completely oblivious of his hormone-ridden partner, or the semi-hard cock that was being ever so slightly rubbed by the movements. The hand on the blue-skinned ninja tensed at the minor friction.

Kisame settled back into a death-like sleep.

"Kisame!" Itachi made his voice a bit louder. Kisame's head was only a few inches away from his own, and only that way because Itachi had pulled himself as far back as the older shinobi's grip would allow. He tired shaking Kisame's shoulder again, thinking in the back of his mind that for a ninja, Kisame was a severely deep sleeper. But when he thought that he was going to be doomed to hopelessly rubbing against his blue-skinned partner until he finally woke up in the morning, the shark-nin's body stiffened. Maybe the older ninja's subconscious finally registered the growing erection poking into his stomach area, because a moment later, Itachi felt his partner stiffen, and then heard Kisame mumble what sounded like, "...not now...headache..."

Itachi's eyes darted upward, in the general direction of his partner's face, but couldn't see anything because of the lack of light. A moment later the arm that had been laying across his waist moved as Kisame rolled over. Itachi stiffened one more time when a hand unknowingly caressed his naked hip as it moved away. Kisame moved onto his side, without waking up. Or if he did, he pretended not to.

Itachi was left staring at the black shape in front of him that might have been his partner‘s back, sticking hand held off the bed because he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with it, and the beginning of an unsatisfied hard on.

As if mocking him, there was a flash of thunder outside five minutes later, and the lights flickered back on inside the room and bathroom.

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Itachi decided that Kisame must have been exhausted the night before when he woke up the morning after Itachi's experience. The shark-nin seemed more amused by the fact that his fourteen year old partner was curled up on the edge of his bed than the fact that the Uchiha was naked, and very agitated about something. Itachi glared at every word that came out of the older shinobi's mouth and became incredibly aware of the principles of personal space. Nevertheless, whenever they encounter a thunderstorm during their travels, Kisame grinned when he thought Itachi wasn’t watching. Apparently, the idea of his younger partner being too terrified of lightening to stay in his own bed offered a boundless source of amusement for the shark-nin.

Itachi didn’t say anything against it when they woke up in the same bed, too grateful for the fact that the other missing nin was too busy snickering to notice any incriminating stains left on the sheets.

In the present, Itachi was much more aware of his partner's tendency to cuddle anything that radiated warmth. Which was precisely why, as he reached out to move the shark-like ninja, his eyes fell on the unmoving form of their young target in a steel edged glare. He brushed his partner's cloak aside gently, know that he could get a better hold on the shirt underneath, while he carefully rolled the larger man onto his back. The chances of Kisame reaching out and grabbing onto their young target's unsuspecting body were fewer with the shark-nin laying in this position. Though, since the Kisame was not sprawled out on a bed, it had been unlikely to begin with. A voice in the back of his head hissed that he was just being uncharacteristically paranoid, though it went unanswered.

Itachi had discovered soon after he discovered his favorite and only hobby, that Kisame never stayed the night with his acquaintances. Ever. It was possible that no one else knew about the shark-nin's habit, and he intended to insure that that fact remained so.

Looking over the small space between his partner and their target, he considered moving the younger boy as well. Just in case he turned out to be a cuddler too.

His hand laid possessively on Kisame's chest while he glowered at the boy. The image of their captive was all the he received in return, still laying on his back with his masked face staring blankly at him. After a minute of childishly engaging in a staring match with the white and white design (it was a good thing no one was around to see), it accrued to Itachi that he should probably remove the mask. With it on, he wouldn't be able to see if the boy suddenly woke up anyway. Though even as that thought went through his mind, another one unfolded with it:

Had the boy's head been angled at him before...?

Abruptly, Itachi snatched his hand from Kisame's chest, eyes staying on their captive's face. He wondered for a moment whether it would be a good idea to wake Kisame up, but quickly excused it. He wasn't that paranoid yet, was he?

Reaching across his sleeping partner, Itachi decided that the easiest way to get around his discomfort would be to prove to himself that he was just thinking too much. That had never happened before, but it was possible. He had probably just gone too long without sleep and let his mind play a trick on him.

He braced one arm next to Kisame's shoulder and leaned over, intent on getting the mask off the boy quickly. Masks worn by ANBU and other high rank shin obi were only held on by thin, clear threads that were barely visible to anyone who was not standing directly in front of the wearer. Why they were used was a mystery, especially since when tracking down and attacking an enemy, one hardly stopped to admire the straps holding their attacker’s mask in place. And they were also extremely frail when one deliberately tried to snap them. But as Itachi leaned across his partner to reach their captive, Kisame did exactly the same thing he had that night during the blackout in the Lightening Country: he rolled over. Right into Itachi's arm.

The Uchiha's upper body fell suddenly downward, crashing into Kisame's torso. Then as an added effect, since his hand had been only inches from the fifteen year old boy's mask, the sudden fall cause his arm to flatten against the ground, shoving his hand roughly into the boy's face. Itachi heard a pained yelp, and knew that if the boy hadn't been awake a few minutes ago, he definitely was now.

Kisame woke up almost as quickly, with his younger partner sprawled across him. It was by far the most ungraceful move that Itachi had ever made. He pulled himself back into a sitting position, turning a look on the other missing nin that bluntly announced that if the next words out of his mouth sounded even faintly taunting, someone was going to die quickly, possibly with their last living memories being filled with murderous, blood-thirsty schoolgirls.

"Itachi...?" Kisame, still laying on the ground, raised an eyebrow when their eyes locked. Itachi knew from the extra heat he felt in his cheeks that his face was flushed. But of course, that was only because that's what happened when one's stomach slams into something solid very quickly.

Really.

"Where is Zabuza-san?"

The boy, by a random act of sympathy, or just plain coincidence, chose that that moment to draw attention to himself. He was still laying on the ground, on his stomach, and with hands bound tightly behind his back at the wrist while his chest and shoulders strained to lift themselves high enough off the ground to give him a decent view of his captors. Kisame likely didn’t have a chance to remember that they had a captive, too busy trying to keep himself from grinning at the rare reddish tint to his partner’s face. However, they both knew who did the talking in their partnership.

"Didn't he ever tell you not to name your partner in front of the enemy?" Itachi release a breath that he hadn't been aware of holding when Kisame shifted into a sitting position beside to him and obligingly focused on the boy instead of on the matter of what and how he had been woken up.

Standing, Itachi dusted the bits of dried leaves off his clothing. Stalking away from his partner, Itachi went to stand with his back leaning against the same tree as before tree. He could hear the boy shifting on the ground behind him. Unusually politely for someone who had just woken up to find himself at the mercy of two clearly unfriendly strangers (the Akatsuki cloak wasn't exactly hard to recognize), he said, "Gomen. How about 'Am I still on the island?'"

Turning his head slightly to watch the exchange, Itachi saw the boy rolling himself to the side, trying to prop himself up on his elbow, but failing. Instead he achieved a position that still granted him a better view of his surroundings, but made his body appear awkwardly twisted. Shifting his weight, Itachi inwardly regretted not getting the boy's mask off. It was always interesting to see how people reacted to his partner's unusual facial features. At least momentarily.

After a moment of silence (neither Itachi or Kisame bothering to answer the last question, having learned early on that revealing how far a captive had been taken from his original location tended to encourage escape attempts), the boy's body visibly stiffened, whether from the strain of holding his balance, or because of the lack of an answer. Itachi couldn't tell if his eyes darted between Kisame and himself under the painted mask during the tense moment before the boy said just as politely as before, though a little more stiffly, "Please, I need to meet Zabuza-san."

Kisame snort. Itachi raised an eyebrow. "I think he can take care of himself."

Their masked captive didn't move, his body staying perfectly rigid as if he were suddenly placed under a jutsu. His voice was a little faster when he said, "He's expecting me."

Itachi let his body slid down the tree’s trunk and sat down. Now that Kisame was awake, it was his turn to sleep. But unlike Kisame, Itachi preferred to sleep sitting up. He sacrificed some comfort, but the effect tended to make their captives wonder whether he were mediating rather than sleeping.

Across the clearing from him, Itachi could clearly hear Kisame. "Well, looks like he's going to be disappointed then."

"You don't understand," the boy's voice was rising again. If Kisame had wanted to say anything, it was cut off by the boy's sudden snap. "I'm his tool. He needs me to help him!"

Kisame said back, "He'll be fine."

"No he wont!"

The continuing volume change in their captive's voice made Itachi re-open his eyes in irritation. As before, Kisame's back was too him, rendering the whatever glare his could fire useless. He decided that he didn’t like this boy, who’s expression was still unreadable because of his blasted fake mask.

Maybe they could knock him out again.

A few seconds passed without a word being spoken, and then, tentatively, Kisame leaned forward. Because Itachi had moved him back earlier, the gap between the shark ninja and their target was wider, but Kisame still only had to put an arm down to keep himself balanced when moved closer to the smaller missing nin. Itachi stiffened when he saw his partner hook one blue finger under their captive's chin and tilt it upward.

The boy clenched his hands together, not knowing what the shark-nin was going to do any more than Itachi did. They didn't relax when Kisame's finger slipped under his mask, and carefully pushed it up until it laid atop his head. From the angle of his partner's body, Itachi couldn't see the boy's face clearly, save for a thin sliver of a white forehead, over the other man’s shoulder. He did notice, however, how Kisame's head leaned in closer.

“Son of a bitch…”

Itachi raised an eyebrow when he heard his partner hiss. He debated getting up himself to see what was so disturbing about their targets face, but decided against it. Kisame pulled back abruptly, hand jerking the painted mask back down. It was left half crooked on the smaller ninja’s face, while Kisame stood up and went to where his sword was leaned against the tree from earlier. “Can you watch him for a few hours?” he asked over hiss lidded the strap of the sward around his neck and shoulder.

“Where are you going?”

The boy, mask still askew on his head, jerked himself up to stare at the shark-nin. Itachi hadn’t had a chance to ask the question himself.

Kisame was already walking out of the clearing when the question reached him. But Itachi thought he heard him mutter, "I'm going to kill Zabuza."

kkkkkkkkkkkkk

Itachi watched the boy's back as he in turn stared at the place where Kisame had been before disappearing into the surrounding trees. The masked boy didn't try talking to Itachi about letting him go; perhaps he was gifted when it came to reading people and knew right away that the kinder of the group had already left.

Instead, the boy started moving. Shrugging his shoulders down as far as they would go, he began rolling himself over, ignoring the inconvenience that his hands must have caused. Itachi was at least satisfied that the boy wasn't about to start trying to snap the ropes around his wrist like a simpleton; that would have been a waste of effort from the beginning. Twisting his body around, the boy rotated his position by throwing his weight forward and rolling, until he was sitting on his calves with upper body rounded back in an effort to make his tied hands reach lower. Itachi considered getting up and stopping the boy's ministrations, but decided he against it. There were too many times in the past when one or both of them could have been killed by a talented target with a freakishly sharpened hairpin, despite Kisame being very thorough when searching for weapons on enemy ninja. And anyway, if the boy was planning to run, he reasoned with himself, the boy's hands were tied behind his back. Even if the boy were exceptionally fast, the disablement would at least make him more cautious when charging into the forest. He would be easy to track down.

And also, Itachi didn't mind watching something move rather than thinking about his partner and his whereabouts. At least since partnering with him, Kisame had never run off during a mission before.

The boy's straining hands started to hook around his rear, the rope digging into his skin to the point of bruising. The boy didn't seem to remember that Itachi even was present. The only sound he made during his exertions was a low grunt of discomfort when he finally forced his hand past his backside after throwing himself backward, using the movement to help him along. The effect shot his hands to the backs of his thighs. The boy only had to roll himself backwards and draw his knees up to his chest to work his hands along them. When he finally sat back up, the boy's pale hands were held in front of him instead of in back.

That lasted about five minutes. Not bad.

Still, it was only a minor achievement.

Itachi mentally straightened when he saw what the boy was going to do next. Bringing his hands up as one, his captive reached for his mask. He knew that the possibility of being forgotten completely by the masked boy was small, so when he shifted for a better view, Itachi was careful to make his movements slow so not to jar the younger male into noticing him.

The boy's hands moved more slowly than Kisame's had, being more careful to grasp either side of the mask and pull it away from his head.

Then the Uchiha’s mildly interested glance became an open stare.

The boy, still ignoring his audience, brought his wrists to his mouth and took one coil of the rope between his teeth. Like trying to snapped the bonds, trying to chew them was also a wasted effort. Akatsuki was not stupid. The ropes were only ropes in appearance; underneath the disguising layer, there was a finger-thick, chakra-absorbing chain. Itachi could see the moment the boy's grinding teeth came in contact with the metal. His brown eyes widened and his mouth suddenly became still, while Itachi's eyes were rapidly devouring the boy's face.

In the information given to them before taking the mission, there had been nothing about the boy's appearance. They had been told about the boy's weapons, his clothes, his attacks...but according to their client, no one had ever seen the hunter nin imposter without his mask. It was one of the reasons that it had been so difficult to detect him. In truth, the only way they were able to find him at all was by tracking down the Demon of the Mist, Zabuza.

The boy tore his hands away from his mouth and stared at the chain in disbelief. When his head snapped back up after a moment, his large, beautiful eyes focused on Itachi. He started to beg again, pleading to be let go. Perhaps he knew that by removing the cushioning layer of rope material, the chains were able to absorb his chakra all the faster.

He was very polite for a missing nin, Itachi thought absently to himself, even as his eyes narrowed. He was already getting up from his place under the tree. It was one of the few times that he could remember having his common sense thoughtlessly glossed over. His comrades would think that someone had used a henge to impersonate him. But something was accruing to him that should have registered earlier: Why had Kisame been surprised by their target's face?

Instant dislike flooded Itachi's current thought, fueled by jealous and frustration at not being able to demand answers from his currently absent partner, even as he knelt down in front of the boy.

The boy really didn't have to worry as much as he did. All chains have to have a clasp. Feeling along the rope, Itachi quickly located the lump under the deceiving rope layer and cut away the covering around it with a kunai from his weapons hostler. It really was a wonder that the boy could be panicked enough not to notice that there was no knot on the ropes in the first place.

The boy tore his hands away the moment Itachi finished unhooking the clamp, jumping up to find where his weapons had been thrown during Kisame's search. When he found them, he turned around to leave, but caught Itachi's stare before he could disappear. For a second, Itachi thought that the look on his target's face became thoughtful as he looked him over carefully. He hesitated for a second, then timidly came back to where the Uchiha was and bent down to scoop up his mask. His dark eyes strayed to Itachi’s face, and for a second it appeared that he was about to say something. But then a sound from behind- not a shinobi, Itachi knew right away, maybe a deer- startled him into moving. He disappeared into the forest quickly, faster than when they had been chasing him earlier.

Itachi didn't get up from where he was still kneeling in the dried leaves. He was aware of the direction that the boy had run off in, and he knew the exact location that he was running to. If he hurried, he might have been able to match the boy's intense speed and recapture him before Kisame returned.

But there was a solid fact in his mind keeping him from doing so: the simple, overwhelming feeling that he didn't want to. His brain was still digesting the fact that the mission briefing had failed to tell him one incredibly important fact. That with his large, chocolate eyes and the long, gleaming hair that he kept pinned up neatly, Haku was exactly Kisame's type.

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