The Road

1. And if You Don't Keep Your Feet. . .

Itachi had been unwell for a while. It wasn't a normal illness; it wasn't going away. It was getting worse, that much he could no longer deny. Breathing hurt almost all the time; he coughed frequently; and he was tired—so tired. Kisame had noticed weeks ago that his partner was weakened, but Itachi was never willing to discuss his mysterious illness. However, when Itachi began coughing up blood, they both knew the condition was serious.

There just wasn't time to be sick. Itachi was already stretched thin, having to watch his back constantly around the Akatsuki, play his role as a wanted criminal, and keep an eye out for ninja who attacked him and Kisame for their bounties. Madara also remained a looming concern. Itachi couldn't pin the masked man's objectives, but he didn't trust him. Not one bit. So when Madara materialized among the shadowy trees behind him while Kisame was gathering intel, Itachi was immediately on guard. Even more hair-raising was Madara's knowledge of Itachi's waning health.

Itachi kept his back half turned to Madara as he focused his chakra in his eyes. "It's none of your concern."

"You wouldn't want to die before you've accomplished your goal," goaded the faceless man.

Itachi finally turned to Madara with glowing red eyes. Itachi reminded himself that Madara didn't know his real goal. He's trying to bait me. He didn't allow himself to react to the provocation. For all Madara knew, Itachi was after the eternal Mangekyō sharingan. That was all the man needed to know. However, Madara was right about one thing: Itachi could not afford to die yet. But it wasn't as if Itachi could show up at a hospital and expect treatment as a regular patient. Any shinobi hospital would recognize him as the S-class rogue, the clan-killer Itachi Uchiha.

"I know someone."

Itachi's eyes narrowed. He was alone. The sun would set in half an hour, and then Kisame would return from the village just beyond the woods where Itachi waited. Itachi did not fully know what Madara was capable of or why he was offering to help. But Madara was not to be trusted.

"Are you wondering who might aid a mercenary?" A cunning smirk was in Madara's voice.

Itachi had, in fact, been wondering as much, but he chose not to speak yet.

"Even among medical ninja, many bleeding hearts don't move for just anyone. This one is one of those compassionate exceptions. And she's talented. One short trip to Ishigakure could have you sorted."

Itachi wasn't interested. He didn't need to get involved in another covert scheme with more pawns, more criminals. He still hated himself for the last time he had asked Madara for help. Itachi's lungs contracted, and his eyes burned and jaw locked from his effort to stifle the cough that scratched at his throat.

Madara didn't miss the way Itachi's shoulders and chest curved inward—of course, he never missed anything. "Consider it," he suggested with feigned kindness, "but don't wait too long. You never know what might be wreaking havoc in your body."

Madara disappeared with a slow circular wave of his arm, and Itachi collapsed into a painful coughing fit. He braced one hand against a tree as he knelt and choked, feeling the strain in from his abdomen to his temples. By the time his paroxysms ended, he was wheezing breathlessly and clutching his pounding head. The tang of blood coated his tongue, and Itachi spat forcefully. He grimaced at the red splotches on the grass by his feet. And he was tired, so tired that his eyelids suddenly felt unbearably heavy. His sharingan faded as Itachi sat, wincing, at the base of his support tree and let his head fall back against rough bark. He didn't let himself close his eyes yet. The sky was starting to turn gray; he had less than fifteen minutes to wait. He would stay alert until Kisame arrived.

He was supposed to be sleeping. Kisame had the first watch since Itachi had been too drained from the coughing fits in the evening to stay awake. He hadn't even had dinner. Although Itachi had fallen asleep quickly, his eyes opened again only two or three hours later. His chest hurt.

Ishigakure. The village didn't have a savory reputation. It was known mostly for harboring renegades and otherwise desperate folk, exactly the sort of people Madara and the Akatsuki sought to manipulate. Itachi wondered going there could be truly helpful. However, attempting to find skilled aid in a more highly developed village would cause only trouble for Itachi, and his simple homeopathic remedies were doing nothing for him. Kisame had already half-joked that Itachi would bite the dust soon if he continued this way. Itachi knew he had to do more. He couldn't die yet. He couldn't rob Sasuke of his vengeance, his justice. He had to die according to plan. Regardless of Madara's intentions, Itachi had to survive this illness. Just long enough.

Madara appeared again three days later, but this time, he was interrupted by Kisame's sudden intrusion.

"Oh! Kisame! It's been a while!" he greeted the larger man in the loud, enthusiastic affect of Tobi.

"Yo, Tobi!" Kisame grinned toothily as he sauntered toward Itachi and the masked man. "What brings you here?"

"I'm here on an important errand." Tobi puffed up his chest proudly, arms akimbo. "You know, your partner here isn't looking too good. You beatin' him up lately?"

Itachi glowered at the orange mask taunting him.

Kisame grunted, distracted from Tobi's unexplained "errand." He cast a subtly disapproving glance at the back of Itachi's head. "You noticed, too, eh? I keep telling him it might be something serious, but he insists otherwise."

Itachi said nothing as waves of annoyance radiated darkly from him.

Tobi nodded eagerly. "Mm! You know, I happen to have a nurse in Ishigakure who might help—no allegiances necessary. It wouldn't hurt to check, right?"

Kisame's eyes hardened on Itachi. "Well, now! Ishigakure is only two days away on foot. If you leave now, I'll be able to keep an eye on things here."

Itachi stifled an annoyed click of his tongue. He had been considering Madara's deal, anyway, so Madara's Tobi performance, his apparent effort to involve Kisame, didn't seem necessary to Itachi. What was Madara planning? Was this part of the plan at all, or was Madara simply improvising now that Kisame had discovered them?

Although he was still undecided, Itachi nodded wordlessly at Kisame. Tobi cheered, pumping a fist in the air, and then he and Itachi took off.