A Pleasant Fear

Three years, Itachi had realized vaguely some days before. He wasn't quite sure how close that was, or how off. But it was around there. Three years since he'd joined Akatsuki. He recorded this in his mind with the sound of buzzing bees and the sound of Kisame's breathing. That's what would remind him of this landmark.

He wasn't sure, exactly, if it was as important as he made it out to be in his head, because he didn't know what other people found significant enough to jot down in memory. But because birthdays and anniversaries had always been so important to his family, he assumed that other people felt they were important as well. But he liked recording other things, things that he found strange, warped, or beautiful. One time the special smell of somebody he killed wove its way into him. She had smelled sweet, like his mother. There had been a day in July when he recorded a baby rabbit limping. He didn't think it would live long, so he took it in his mind and preserved it.

Itachi hadn't cared about the rabbit. For some reason, he had just thought that was an important thing to note. One thing that Itachi noted a lot was what Kisame did, and what Kisame said. Kisame was on his mind frequently, because he was there nearly all the time, and Itachi was the type to think about things when they are there and forget about them when they are away.

But Kisame was never away. So therefore, Kisame never left the strange caverns of Itachi's head.

The glint of Kisame's teeth and the width of Kisame's smile and the tone of Kisame's voice. Usually, Itachi didn't remember specific moments. He remembered the faces his partner made, because he liked those the best.

Also. Those fingers, so long, and so sturdy. They were strong, and everlasting, and Itachi assumed he'd remember them until he disappeared himself. The one time he'd held them in his grasp he recalled it so vividly and so clear. Not used to touching other people, Itachi would remember that gentle touch and firm grip. It had felt soft.

Kisame was making breakfast, and Itachi watched him from the table. The way house they'd taken over was rotting, it's roof sagging and dripping from a rain two days before. Underneath the tails of his cloak Itachi was sure he heard the rattle of cockroaches.

"Itachi-san." The voice was more quiet than usual, more calm and more controlled. His companion was thinking about something, and thinking about it hard, because he was trying to manipulate his words with a strange desperation. Kisame usually said things, and straight out. Because that was how he was.

Watching his companions figure, Itachi felt the cracks in the damp wood in front of him. He looked down and examined it further. There were maggots inside the wood, and the Uchiha scanned them, disinterested.

Kisame was afraid, Itachi knew it. He knew it by the way his voice so strangely faltered, and by the way he took his time. Finally, the other man spoke. Softly. "Were you angry? Was that why you did that back then?"

A bug crawled over his finger, and Itachi watched it, contemplating memories he hadn't unearthed in awhile. He twitched at the unwelcome feel of crawly legs and curious feelers. "I killed them, and they were weaker than me. I don't really remember feeling angry. I just felt relieved when I was done." Something had exploded in him when the last body had hit the dirt.

It had felt like the sky had fallen, but he had hated the sky anyway.

A strange sigh hit his ears with a louder intensity than it should have. "Oh. Okay, sorry." The swordsman turned around and flashed him that gigantic grin, so full of the usual life and vitality that Itachi was used to seeing. Itachi appreciated things he was used to seeing, and he appreciated Kisame's smiles because they made something weird happen in his chest.

But this time, that weird feeling wasn't there.

"Why were you afraid to ask me that?" he asked, matter of fact. Standing up, he stepped over to the window, staring out at the grass. There was a rabbit there, but it wasn't limping. The only other time Itachi remembered a rabbit distinctly, he had known it was going to die.

A long pause filled the stuffy air, but it was a patient pause. Itachi examined the grass.

"I was afraid that I would hurt you," the other man finally managed, turning away.

Itachi watched the rabbit, intent on how it was sniffing a dandelion. He memorized the musty house and the rabbit and Kisame's voice and the cockroaches under his feet. They were suddenly relevant.

"Nobody has ever been afraid of that before."