Itachi sat on his bed, painting his fingernails with one final stroke. It was time. Sasuke needed to be freed from the snake before his clock stopped ticking. A part of him wanted to spill the truth to his little brother in hopes of patching his torn soul only filled with bitter vengeance. No, Itachi decided. All of his actions would be wasted. Let Sasuke's hatred boil over. Let vengeance his twist through his mind and coil around his heart. Let him obliterate the cursed Akutsuki.

Let Sasuke destroy him. He knew this was wrong; that this was no way to treat his little brother. That he was being selfish. Still, Sasuke had a very important role to play.

Itachi screwed the polish top back in place, setting on the nightstand near his bed. He laid back on his stern bed, closing his eyes.

Outside his partner's door, Kisame leaned against the wall. A crinkled brow and frown marred his scaled face. Madara was his "leader", not Pein. Itachi has never been included in this equation. No matter what elaborate depths Itachi went through hiding his past, Madara informed his troop, though his trust was misplaced. Kisame could expose Itachi anytime, anywhere. What stopped him from using this to his advantage?

When Itachi first came to Akutsuki, Kisame was shocked by his boyish face and heartless eyes. Never once in a fight did Itachi sweat, only his sleep. Did Kisame want to comfort him? Or was how the young criminal mercilessly killed his foes that got Kisame's blood pumping, and he only wanted to save Itachi for his own pleasure? Whatever the reason, it no longer mattered.

Itachi was leaving to fight his younger brother and had no plans of returning.

Will he stop his partner? Save him? Can he? Too many questions with time ticking down.

Kisame opened the door.

His partner sat up and stared at him, daring him to speak. Kisame revealed his shark-like teeth, attempting a grin normally produced by an adrenaline rush. "Wanna go for a drink?"

Itachi quietly slipped on his shoes. He stared at his feet. "We're miles away from any bar or restaurant."

"That's never been a problem.

"I don't drink." He paused as Kisame held his breath, waiting for the answer. "Ice tea will do."

Kisame felt the urge to pat his partner on the back, but retreated in fear of his literal death glare. He chuckled. "Let's go."

"It's four."

"You're not the one drinking."

The sun set hours ago, leaving them alone with the stars littering the black sky. They sat on a grassy hill with their respective drinks in hand. Kisame was slightly slumped over yet his hand still firmly grasped the bottle. Itachi brought his ice tea to his lips, letting it calm him.

Something unexpected happened.

The booze had sunken in, making Kisame drape his arm around his partner's shoulders. For once; for this final time, Itachi excused the drunken familiarity.

"Y'know, hic, we've been partners for years."

"I'm aware of this."

"Outta of al 'em, hic, bastards," he spat as if the word was acid; "you're the only decent fella in the bunch. They're a buncha power hungry, money grubbing bastards."

"And you?"

"Me?" He scoffed. "I want, hic, a fight, a good— great fight! You… nobody knows what, hic, you want." 'Not Pein, not Madara, not even me. Not truly.'

Itachi continued sipping his tea, causing Kisame to wonder if he rambled out the wrong thing.

"No matter how hard we mortals strive, true immortality can never be reached. The others never comprehended this. Even Pein is unaware of his unattainable goal." He stood, leaving his drink and Kisame behind. Moonlight trickled down. He held out his cold hand, allowing Kisame to grab it and not want to let go. Kisame's throat clogged up, disabling him from what he needed to say.

Don't go!

Even if you could speak, no amount of words could save the already condemned.

"Death is the only certain thing in life, my friend. Do not waste it."

Without a flicker, he vanished, leaving Kisame alone in a cloud of smoke.