Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, or any of its characters. Kishimoto does. This story, however, is mine.
A Drink For The Departed
Itachi Uchiha didn't even flinch as the unwelcome guest sat down next to him, his only discernible reaction being a sharp glance to the bartender that signaled his wish for another bottle of sake. After a few tense moments of silence, Itachi finished his cup in one sip and spoke as he refilled from his bottle.
"What brings you here, Madara?"
The true leader of the Akatsuki chuckled ruefully under his breath, pouring himself a cup of his own from the bottle that had just arrived.
"A dead man shouldn't have to pay for his final drinks, Itachi," the elder Uchiha spoke after a moment, his voice deep and resonating with years of wisdom and weariness. "The least I can do is pick up your tab."
"Suit yourself, old man," the younger Uchiha parried softly as he took another sip from his cup. "Now, why are you really here?"
"If I had a heart, Itachi," Madara answered with mock-hurt as he killed the first cup of what was sure to be many, "it would be breaking right now. Is it so hard to believe that I want to do one of my few remaining clansmen a favor before he goes off and commits glorified seppuku?"
"Yes," Itachi replied evenly, "it is."
The overlord of the Akatsuki stayed silent for several heartbeats, his dark eyes almost unfathomable, before he spoke once more.
"Don't do this, Itachi. It's not worth it."
The younger Uchiha's eyes widened briefly with surprise before he reined himself back in, speaking in his normally impassive tone that was now tinged with just a hint of slyness.
"Was that concern I heard in your voice just then, Madara?"
"Not concern, no. Rather, it was anger at your foolishness. Your sacrifice will do nothing to change Sasuke's mind, and I have few enough soldiers as it stands to lose one of your caliber for the sake of some petty family drama."
"What makes you so certain he won't change, old man?"
"Because within all of those who feel love," Madara said pointedly as if reciting something he had long held to be truth, "there lies the capacity for hate."
"The reverse of that is also true," Itachi replied smoothly, "and Sasuke is far stronger than you give him credit for."
The elder Uchiha finished his current cup and paused as he poured another before continuing.
"Is he strong enough to handle the truth, Itachi?"
Itachi's hand paused midway to his mouth, the slightest tremble visible in the hand holding his cup before it was ruthlessly squashed.
"He's lived through worse," was the terse reply, and Madara gave another bitter chuckle.
"Oh, the child will live, no doubt," the leader of the Akatsuki shot back. "Mere words cannot kill someone whose will to live is so strong. But there are fates worse than death, Itachi; you, of all people, should know that."
"So you're going to tell him everything?" Itachi asked, putting fatal emphasis on the final word. Madara, however, was decidedly unfazed by the implied threat.
"I will," the elder Uchiha answered stonily. "If you wish to stop me, you are more than welcome to try."
Itachi sighed, unclenching his free hand and finishing his current cup.
"I won't have to," he said resignedly. "It's too late for me to release him from his hatred completely, after all; I will do what I can, and leave it to another to finish the job."
Madara's chuckle grew into a full-on, hollow bark of a laugh.
"That Namikaze brat?" he asked incredulously. "Don't be naïve, Itachi; it doesn't suit you. You give the Jinchuriki far too much credit."
"Maybe I do," the younger Uchiha mused thoughtfully, "but to be honest, I doubt either of us will be around to see their final battle."
"Well," Madara said with a grim smile on his face and in his voice, "you certainly won't be."
Itachi smiled despite himself, finishing his cup and tilting it with mocking politeness towards his superior.
"Touché."
"You empty?" Madara asked after he finished his own bottle, and his companion answered with his silence.
"Have any regrets, Itachi?" the elder Uchiha asked, feeling uncommonly beneficent thanks to the sake coursing through his veins. "You should at least pass over to the other side absolved of your guilt, if nothing else."
"No amount of absolution is going to cleanse the blood from my hands, Madara," the younger Uchiha replied tersely as he rose, "and especially not absolution from a devil dressed in the garb of a priest."
"Suit yourself," the leader of the Akatsuki half-mumbled as his clansman left the bar and walked towards the duel that would mean his demise.
"Kids," Madara huffed as he tapped his bottle on the bar in a demand for a refill. "They never learn."
A/N: Well, this was just something I thought would be an interesting conversation were it ever to actually take place, so I decided to jot it down. This is also my first Naruto story/drabble, so please forgive any slight or major mischaracterizations. That said, I hope you enjoyed it, and please review to let me know what you thought!