Restraint

by Angrybee

Whilst traveling, Kisame and Itachi come upon Sai, alone in the wilderness. Is it coincidence? Or some very elaborate trap. (Various pairings.)

-=Restraint=-

It wasn't the sort of thing you usually came across, a lone Leaf Ninja
wandering about in the woods near the border of River Country. Not usual
in the slightest, so Itachi was immediately wary of a trap. Kisame, on
the other hand, just wanted to kill the thing and be done with it. Not
because Kisame was an overly bloodthirsty sort of guy, but because Leaf
Ninjas were bad news, and besides...the two Akatsuki shinobi had other
things to do.

But, Itachi wanted to observe it, so observe it they did.

That paint-ninja wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary, which made
Itachi all the more suspicious. Shinobi who didn't act bizarrely tended
to be hiding something. But, all the paint-ninja did was sit by the
campfire and draw in a small sketch-book.

Of course, Itachi and Kisame knew all about Sai. They kept good tabs on
the acquaintances of the jinchuuriki, Naruto. Sai's acceptance onto
Naruto's team had only been of passing interest. They learned what little
about him that they could - his favorite jutsus, his history with
the supposedly secret society of Root, his part in Naruto's latest
confrontation with Orochimaru and Sasuke. None of it was particularly
interesting, especially to Kisame, who found intelligence-gathering
missions to be: "Dull, dull, dull".

Perched in a tree, their presences cloaked by a proximity-limited
genjutsu, the two Akatsuki members examined Sai, as well as the perplexing
situation. Sai, however, did nothing more than grab a stick to poke at
the fire, which caused it to flare brightly for a moment. Then, he
returned to scribbling in his sketchbook.

"It's true," Kisame murmured, "He does look a little like Sasuke-kun."

Itachi leaned forward by several centimeters, an indication to only the
most highly perceptive and nigh-psychic that he was trying to focus on
Sai, and wished for Kisame to stop speaking.

Kisame, however, would generally only stop when Itachi became irritated
enough to voice his opinion outright. Which was a rarer occurrance than
Tobi saying something brilliant.

"I can't put my finger on it...the similarity. The hair is different.
The face is a bit different. But, there's just something. Maybe it's
the self-confidence." Kisame reached back to hold onto the hilt of the
Samehada, which was strapped to his back, before continuing, "But, if
Sasuke-kun looks like you, I guess that means the paint-ninja does, too."

Itachi glanced briefly at Kisame. Kisame smirked in return. Ah, a
flicker of interest, was it? Or was that one annoyance? Still so
difficult to tell, even after all these years of being partnered with the
Uchiha.

"Does it irritate you, Itachi-san? To see a boy who is a shadow of the
boy who wished to be your shadow?" Now Kisame was pressing his luck. He
was fairly sure nothing of the sort could irritate the unflappable Uchiha
Itachi, but once in a while, Kisame managed to dig a hook into Itachi's
arrogance just enough to pry out some sort of reaction.

On those extraordinarily rare times, Kisame generally ended up injured.
Before he could exhale, Itachi would shove a kunai between Kisame's ribs,
a tiny frown fixed on his face. Then, as if nothing had happened, Itachi
would turn and leave Kisame there to sort out his injury alone. Despite
the pain, it was at least good to know that Itachi was actually human.

Sort of.

As per usual, Itachi didn't lower himself to answering the question.
Instead, he just stood up straighter and intoned, "I see."

Which generally meant that Itachi had not only figured out what was going
on, but had planned several moves ahead of their enemy. It spelled defeat
for all but the strongest and most intelligent of shinobi.

Kisame sneered at what he was sure was Sai's impending demise. "Then,
tell me?"

But, it was too late. Itachi leaped forward, hopping from tree to tree so
effortlessly, and so quickly, that it was barely visible to the naked eye.
Kisame followed, but kept himself at a distance. Itachi wouldn't need his
help for this. Itachi rarely needed his help for anything.

His partner was a magnificent shinobi, and far, far more of a monster than
Kisame. Or even any of the legendary beasts they had fought and captured
for Akatsuki. Kisame ran his tongue across a sharp ridge of teeth as he
watched. Maybe tonight. Maybe tonight that self-same tongue would
slither along the inside of Itachi's thigh. Maybe Itachi would do that
thing where his eyes narrowed, and his breath hitched, and he grabbed for
a kunai to press against Kisame's throat. Itachi couldn't stand sex. He
loathed losing control of himself, even for a few seconds. And yet, he
was human. Sort of, kind of, a tiny bit human. Just enough so that he
still needed a really good fuck, now and then.

And if he really, really, needed it... Itachi might do something
extraordinary and revealing. Like fist his hand in Kisame's hair just
before climax. Or trap them both in some bizarre genjutsu, full of
spine-chilling screams and ever-widening pools of blood. Or say
that strange name. Itachi's flat, monotone voice would state it so
simply, betraying more about Itachi's thoughts than years of traveling
with the man. "Shisui-san." Just like that. And never with any feeling
or emphasis that Kisame could discern. But, still... Still... Kisame
knew it meant -something-. What exactly, he wasn't sure. But,
-something-.

Nonetheless, Kisame believed that, every so often, Itachi erased these
things from his memory, en masse. Because Kisame wasn't sure when they'd
started fucking, or how. And that seemed like something a man would
remember. He was also fairly certain that he generally didn't find men
attractive. But, was Itachi a man? Sort of. Barely. But, mostly...
Mostly, Itachi was a god.

Kisame watched as Itachi dropped out of the trees on the other side of
Sai's campfire. In the depths of night, the glow of the flames lit them
both, encircling the scene in a globe of oranges and yellows. As Itachi
stared down at Sai, a nearby ink-owl hooted a belated warning of
intrusion.

Itachi reached up to his kasa, and pulled the hat off in one swift
move as he intoned, "You've come to offer yourself to me. A sacrifice."

The paint-ninja froze. Kisame watched as Sai slowly looked up from his
sketchbook, and peered at Itachi. His face reminded Kisame of an empty
sheet of paper or a canvas waiting for paint. Blank. Completely blank.
Containing neither malice nor concern, neither fear nor bloodlust. Of all
the reactions to Itachi's presence that Kisame had seen...that one was
certainly odd.

And then Sai smiled.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Reality, Kisame had found, was pliant. Sort of like heated metals. You
could mold it. Bend it into myriad shapes, and when it no longer pleased
you, heat it and re-shape it again. Itachi had taught him this. Itachi
lived in a world beyond the visible, where all things were possible, where
even time stretched to the infinite. Only a certain kind of person could
spend too much time around Itachi without dying. Even more unique was the
type of person who wouldn't go catatonic, or outright insane, from the
subtle adjustments that Itachi made to his surroundings. Especially the
people in his surroundings. And their minds.

Kisame, however, had a mind that did not rebel against the constant
altering of reality.

Instead, Kisame proved to be the perfect match for Itachi. For, he too
had a devastating effect on shinobi around him. Slowly, but surely,
their ambient chakra, and the chakra of their surroundings, would drain
into the Samehada, and into Kisame. It wasn't something he could
control, this slow drinking-in of chakra. It was merely the price he
paid, to keep certain elements of himself under control. For Hoshigaki
Kisame was a jinchuuriki, and (as long as it was not deprived of chakra
to consume) the bijuu "Isonade" slept peacefully inside of him.

But, Itachi needed very little chakra to defeat anyone. He conserved all
energy, like someone hellbent on defeating physics. Itachi never moved
unless movement was absolutely necessary, and then...never by a millimeter
more than he needed.

In the end, everyone was satisfied with the arrangement. Itachi and
Kisame both had partners they could tolerate. Akatsuki's Leader had a
Uchiha which existed in a significantly less dangerous state, and a
jinchuuriki under the watchful eye of that skilled Uchiha.

But, all of this meant little as compared to the subtle understandings
that had arisen between them. They weren't close. They didn't trust each
other. But, they were certainly -compatible-, as shinobi, and that's what
mattered most.

"Drink, Itachi-san?" Kisame was already warming the sake. He wasn't a
drunkard, far from it, but followed the typical Mist Ninja tradition of
having a nip after dinner to ward off the evening's cold.

"Tea."

Kisame took out the small thermos of tea, and passed it to Itachi.
Really, his partner's demands were as predictable as rain in Lightning
Country. Even if the tea was cold and grainy, Itachi would still drink
it. Water in the morning, tea in the evening, three completely bland
meals a day. Hardly any meat. Itachi was about as close to a vegetarian
as a shinobi could get without sacrificing muscle.

Kisame turned his attention to their captive. "And you, kid? You want
some sake?"

They'd chained Sai to the Samehada. He hadn't resisted. Nor when they
took his shinobi pack. Nor when they'd temporarily removed his clothes to
search him. The only time Sai had made any sort of fuss was when they
attempted to relieve him of his sketchbook. But, they weren't fools.
The sketchbook was the most dangerous weapon in the young man's
possession.

Sai looked up from drawing in the dirt with his fingertip. "Yes. Is it
poisoned, Kisame-san?"

"That's not really my way, kid." Kisame leaned to the side and put the
small cup of sake on the ground beside Sai. Then, he watched as the young
ninja struggled to pick it up and drink it, focusing all of his energy and
concentration on performing the task without error. It was no surprise
that Sai's body had weakened. The Samehada had been making pleased
chewing noises ever since they'd chained Sai to it with that single
chakra-draining cuff. "But, even if it was, do you really think I'd tell
you?"

Sai's response was an empty smile, one that almost made Kisame imagine
some sort of viciousness far, far behind it.

Kisame shrugged it off and went back to drinking his tea. Itachi, for his
part, seemed completely uninterested in their captive. And, Kisame was
pretty sure that he'd remain that way. But, Itachi wanted -something-
from Sai, otherwise, the kid wouldn't still be alive.

Sai, with some amount of struggle, put the cup back down. He watched
Kisame carefully, and as soon as the man began to drink his sake, Sai
asked, "Kisame-san, do you let Itachi-san put his dick in you?"

Sake went -everywhere-. Kisame had made many mists appear in his life,
but none quite so fine as the spray of alcohol that came spurting out of
his mouth.

"Or do you put your dick in Itachi-san? Usually, I can tell who is on
top, but with the two of you, I'm not quite sure." Sai's expression
remained patently unreadable. "Is it even possible for you to suck a
man's cock? With teeth like that?"

After wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Kisame drawled, "That's
none of your..." How did this kid know? There hadn't been any hints. He
and Itachi displayed no fondness for one another, for they had none.

There was movement from the opposite side of the camp. Itachi, now
standing, walked towards the darkness of the forest beyond, and
disappeared into it. He was diligent in this, as well - predictable and
like clockwork. He always set the traps before sleep, never delegating
that particular and delicate task to his partner. But, his voice floated
back to Kisame, a monotone explanation of Sai's miraculous perception of
their intimacy, "He baited you, Kisame."

Kisame frowned in annoyance. The Samehada, attuned to its master's
wishes, made loud chewing noises. Within seconds, Sai slumped to the
side, too drained of chakra to remain awake.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

There were a few things about Kisame that Itachi found agreeable. First,
the Mist Ninja never cursed. Itachi found the verbal restraint pleasant,
as he'd always favored speaking properly, even whilst killing someone, to
be the proper way of a shinobi. Any random fool could spout a stream of
vile expletives.

He didn't curse, he bathed regularly, and he had the agreeable habit of
listening to Itachi's advice in battle. Plus, like Sasuke, Kisame had
untapped potential lying dormant inside of him. But, whereas Sasuke's
stemmed from his Uchiha lineage, Kisame was interesting because of
Isonade. The demon-shark had reared its ugly head three times during
their travels together, and three times, Itachi had witnessed the effects.
(Though he had never managed to be around for the actual transformation).
Devastation for the enemy, followed by a strange mind-fugue for Kisame.
The Mist Ninja must have lived like this for a long time, Itachi assumed,
always losing half his memories whenever he was pushed enough for Isonade
to break beyond the seal of its slumber.

One day, not too far in the future, one of the other Akatsuki would come
for Kisame. Itachi would not interfere. If Kisame won, his deal with
their illustrious Leader was to go free. To never be sought after by
Akatsuki again. If Kisame lost... Itachi would be requiring a new
partner.

Itachi had to admit, it was a good plan on Kisame's part. Being in
Akatsuki allowed him to find out about the other members and their
abilities. In this way, he could best prepare to battle whichever one
their Leader chose. In Itachi's estimation, Kisame's chance of survival
was reasonable. As long as the Leader, himself, didn't come after the
Mist Ninja.

Itachi did not look forward to the possibility of having to get a new
partner. Although he was apathetic in most things, one shinobi at your
side was not the same as another. And, as noted, Itachi found a number of
Kisame's habits agreeable.

Especially the lack of cursing, the polite way he addressed Itachi, the
restraint he showed in almost all things besides battle.

Then again, most Mist Ninjas had an odd politeness to them. A reserved,
almost gentle, personal demeanor which didn't interfere with their
abilities, deadliness, or enjoyment of battle. Just a difference of
upbringing, Itachi supposed.

It reminded him...of that kid. Haku.

Dead now, or so they'd heard, Itachi and Kisame had met up with the other
pair of shinobi towards the beginning of their partnership. Zabuza had no
real quarrel with the other ex-Swordsman of the Mist. In fact, it seemed
as if the pair were about as friendly as two S-class criminals could get.
Zabuza ended up offering to allow Itachi and Kisame stay at his and Haku's
current dwelling while the Akatsuki agents completed their mission.

Itachi, by no means, liked that idea. He preferred solitude. And he
liked it even less when he came back from intelligence-gathering one
evening to find Haku kneeling in front of Kisame. The shark-nin's pants
were around his ankles, and his jaw was clenched with pleasure. Haku's
head bobbed forward and back, a measured pace that would have made most
men weak-kneed. As if the scene was no big deal, Zabuza stood off to the
side, lazily observing the pair. He nodded at Itachi, and then turned
his attention back to Kisame and Haku.

"What do you think, Kisame?" Zabuza had drawled, "He's good, isn't he?"

Kisame's answer was a choked grunt and a barely controlled jerk of his
hips. His razor-sharp teeth dug into his bottom lip, causing a thin line
of blood to snake down his chin.

Itachi watched as Haku's deft fingers fluttered against Kisame's hip.
They'd switch between hovering, and only briefly touching. As if that
rough shark-like skin disgusted him, but determination demanded he
continue. It seemed that for some strange reason, although the boy wasn't
being forced to do this act, he was forcing -himself-.

"I'll give Haku to you. In trade for the Samehada," Zabuza continued,
rather blandly.

It was at that point, Itachi turned on his heel and walked out of the
room. He wasn't interested in these sorts of antics - at least
not...rationally. But, the reaction in his body made him disgusted. The
slightest increase of his heart-rate. The shallowing of his own breath.
A twitch of one of his fingers. Itachi always attempted to rise above
the very human instinct to react to what was strange, perverse, and
disturbing.

But, he had no question in his mind about what was occurring in that room
near Mist Country. Even though Itachi was barely fifteen, he'd been an
ANBU captain. To assume that he didn't know about sex, or that he hadn't
encountered it in various forms...would be foolish. He'd already begun to
pry it out of people's minds when he used the mangekyou on them, learning
about and cataloging their litany of perversions for analysis.

Still, the way Kisame had bitten his own lip until it bled, instead of cry
out some expletive...

In the end, Kisame did not make the trade. Not for dislike of Haku,
Itachi assumed, but because he valued his sword above human contact. And
Kisame, if he knew that Itachi had entered the room while Haku was blowing
him, certainly never mentioned it.

At any rate, Itachi was older now. Twenty-one. But, he felt far, far
older than that. If it were not for the fact that Itachi was in top
physical condition, he might wonder if he had suddenly walked through a
gap in time, and ended up older than Orochimaru.

He watched Kisame from the darkness, vaguely interested in how the Mist
Ninja interacted with Sai. But, now that Sai had passed out, there wasn't
going to be much of a show.

So, what was the point?

Day by day, Itachi's interest in the physical world continued to wane.
Very few things managed to prove intriguing to him. But, this situation
with the paint-ninja seemed promising. Exceptionally so. At least for a
few days. Invariably, Itachi knew, that toy would get broken. He did not
know how long he could restrain himself from playing roughly with Sai.

"Kisame," Itachi intoned, a split instant before he stepped out of the
darkness. The Uchiha moved to kneel on the ground, only an arm's length
away from where Kisame sat cross-legged.

Kisame looked over at his partner, and then followed that silent red gaze
to the sleeping Leaf Ninja chained to the Samehada. "Yes? What about
him?"

"Doesn't he remind you of someone?"

Kisame wondered if Itachi's hearing was going, along with his eyesight.
"Yes. I told you before, he mildly resembles your..."

One of Itachi's fingers twitched. "Look again."

The genjutsu explained it all, far more vividly than words ever could.
Sitting against the tree, where Sai had been before he passed out, was an
image of Haku. Smiling the completely empty smile of someone who was
just happy to have been used. Used brutally or cruelly. To be a tool. A
weapon. A perfect and valuable shinobi without emotion.

Haku would have done anything to please Zabuza.

And Sai would do anything to help Naruto.

Even putting himself into this most absurd of peril, in the hopes of
assisting Naruto in achieving his goal. The goal of retrieving Sasuke.
And for that they needed bait.

To bring Sasuke home, Naruto needed Itachi. And what Naruto needed, Sai
was attempting to fetch.

Kisame stared blankly at the hallucination of Haku, and then turned his
face away. Itachi detected the embarassment, and it repulsed him. Guilt
for performing perverse acts...had never been Itachi's strong suit, and he
disliked it in others, as well.

"Sure, the smile is the same. But, can you imagine words like that coming
out of Haku's mouth?"

"I see," Itachi stated succinctly, "His mouth interests you." He felt no
need to clarify if he was talking about Haku, or Sai. Instead, he snaked
his hand up through his own cloak, and began unbuttoning it from the
inside.

Kisame, to his merit, didn't deny it. He wasn't going to be baited twice
in one night. He drained the rest of his cup of sake, and put it aside.
Watching Itachi out of the corner of his eye, Kisame waited for the
subtle hints that tonight...Itachi wanted -something-. If he unsnapped
more buttons than usual on his cloak. Or if he took his hair down from
his ponytail. If he touched that strange necklace he wore, or paused to
look up at the moon. Then, Kisame knew the likelihood was high that
Itachi would begrudgingly permit sex.

On this particular evening, none of those things occurred.

Instead, Itachi hopped into a nearby tree, placing distance between
himself and Kisame. His quiet voice, however, floated back down to his
partner.

"I'll keep watch."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Kisame, despite his jinchuuriki, slept decently as a general rule. As
decently as an S-class criminal could afford, at any rate. More often
than not, his dreams involved foggy half-memories, vigorous battles, and
the light taste of tea associated with Itachi's mouth. Basically, his
dreams were merely an abbreviation of his life. Kisame didn't pride
himself on his imagination.

"So impossible..."

When Itachi said something was impossible, it was truly impossible. So,
this must be completely impossible. But, they were only just now going to
River Country to report in from their mission. Why would that be
impossible? Within the hazy confines of sleep's mirage, Kisame turned to
look at Itachi, but found that his parner had been replaced with a
bloodstained Uchiha Sasuke. The younger Uchiha dropped his sword on his
brother's corpse and intoned coldly, "Do you have a problem with it?"

"...the exactness..."

The vision of Sasuke melted away, leaving behind Kisame's mother in his
place. A harpy of a woman, with a demeanor of steel. Thrice widowed,
she'd killed her final husband, Kisame's father, with a trident. The man
had betrayed Kirigakure, so Kisame's mother was fully within her rights.
But, did she have to look so smug about it? The woman tossed the bloody
trident at Kisame's feet and sneered at him before saying, "Do you have a
problem with it?"

had betrayed Kirigakure, so Kisame's mother was fully within her rights.
But, did she have to look so smug about it? The woman tossed the bloody
trident at Kisame's feet and sneered at him before saying, "Do you have a
problem with it?"

"All of the clones were supposed to have expired."

One of Kisame's eyes slid open, just by a millimeter. A blur of deep
orange and flickering shadows passed incomprehensibly into his mind.
Shapes arranged themselves out of the nonsense. A campfire. A forest.
Itachi. The Samehada. Itachi...missing his cloak. Itachi...bent over a
prone body. Itachi...talking. Talking to Sai?

"But, yours seems to have survived..."

Kisame wanted to close his eyes. He wanted to be asleep. But,
fascination riveted the moment in place. What would make Uchiha Itachi
speak with a tone that bordered on bewilderment? And what would drive him
to slip his fingers through the paint-ninja's hair so gently? To stroke
his cheek with such tenderness that it almost bordered on care? To brush
the pad of his thumb over Sai's bottom lip? And why, after all of that,
did Itachi's hands drift to Sai's neck, and slowly constrict around the
young man's throat?

"Shisui-san," Itachi whispered, "He looks just like you."

That name again. Kisame's eye widened, and he smirked nefariously.

So, that's who Sai resembled?

Interesting.

Author's Note: Found this, randomly, whilst looking through my unpublished fanfics directory. Looks like I wrote it around 2007, so keep that in mind as far as how early in the series it is, as far as reference material. Sai had pretty much just then been introduced as a character.