For the rest of my life, I'll blame Deidara for what happened over the course of the next few months.

As cliché as it may sound, everything started in the kitchen of our base. The room was dark, dank, and perfectly gloomy, just like everything else in our headquarters.

I had just awoken, and had journeyed downstairs in hopes of acquiring breakfast before my fellow members decimated our supplies, as they so often did the day after we restocked the food.

My meal consisted of toast and fried eggs. What, were you expecting the heart of my most recent victim? I may be a heartless criminal, but I'm human. Although I use that term as loosely as possible.

As I began consuming my meal, I heard the sound of another person enter the room. I looked up, putting my head back down as soon as I saw blonde. Deidara.

At the risk of sounding like Akasuna Sasori, the terrorist was a brat. Childish, short-tempered, and rarely thinking things through, he could often be described as the polar opposite of both Sasori and myself. Probably why he detested the both of us so much, although as of late he's built up a fair tolerance for the puppet master.

He too was in search of a meal, and soon extracted a carton of milk from the fridge, as well as a box of cold cereal from the cabinets overhead.

If any outsiders ever entered our base, all fear of the mighty Akatsuki would vanish as soon as they saw us at mealtime.

I very nearly scoffed when I saw that that would be all Deidara was going to eat. Cold food requires more time to digest, because your body must heat it up, causing more blood to flow to the torso. It makes you an easy target during a fight, and if you're hit in the stomach region, not only do you bleed out quicker, but the stomach acid that's been trying to digest your nutrition spills out, burning the vital organs within your body in a slow, torturous death. I find it rather fascinating.

Deidara ate his breakfast at the other end of the table, as if sitting any closer to me would make him unclean. He stayed quiet, as did I; in fact, were it not for the infrequent clink of his spoon against the bowl, I would have forgotten that he was even there.

The clinks stopped entirely, and I knew he'd finished when he rose from the table. He walked to the sink, washed out his dishes, and replaced them in the cabinet. I was still picking at my eggs, debating whether I was hungry enough to eat all my food or not. "Itachi, un."

My mind immediately went on high alert. Deidara rarely so much as spares me a glance; if he's ever trying to converse, it can't be good. "What?"

"How do you feel about Kisame?"

I spent a few moments deeply immersed in my own thoughts, trying to figure out the most appropriate way to answer the bomber's question. "He is a good partner," I settled on. Short, sweet, and nothing that could possibly be misconstrued in any way.

"Yes, but how do you feel about him, un?" the blonde went on, walking back to the table and sitting down in the chair opposite me once again.

I frowned. Had I not been clear? "I can tolerate his presence without any problems." Maybe that would get through the brat's thick skull.

"Really? That's too bad, un." Deidara allowed the words to hang in the air for a few moments, as if waiting for me to take the bait. When I failed to, he merely continued. "You guys would make such a cute couple, un," he said nonchalantly, as if we were chatting about the weather.

I sat for the next few seconds in silence, wondering where the hell that came from. The words were nearly enough to shock me. Nearly. I gave a soft "Hn," in reply, hoping to buy a bit of time as the inner workings of Deidara's mind tried to make sense of my answer.

"I mean it. You two would look cute together, and he seems like a good boyfriend to me, un."

By now, I had reduced myself to sighing and rubbing my temples. "Deidara," I began, "even if I was gay, and even if Kisame were gay, and even if we were living in some alternate universe were there was a remote possibility that this nonsense could happen, we are completely incompatible." I'd spoken more than I would have liked to, but this was one of those few times were you absolutely had to drill your point into a fool's skull.

"People say that about danna and me, but we're getting along fine, un," Deidara argued.

I made a mental note to tell Kisame that Deidara's revelation explains the screams we'd been hearing from their room for the last few nights. I was almost disappointed to hear that the cries were not from Deidara's pain.

"Come on, un. Give me one reason why you can't be with Kisame, un," he demanded. I kept my mouth shut, and he eventually sighed and rose from the table. "Just think about it, un." Soon enough, he was gone.

Now, I was left with the question of why such an idea seemed so ludicrous to me. Sex, tempers, methods of fighting all presented cases before me, but when he real reason hit, my eyes nearly bugged out in astonishment.

I am terrified of my partner.

While it's true that he obeys my commands, agrees to my plans, and fights alongside me in battle, I know this is only because he wants to. I simple decision not to aid me, boredom of listening to my commands, or sheer displeasure at me leading him, and he could turn on me. And I would be unable to stop him.

Because Kisame knows my limits. He knows how I fight, how long I can fight, and what my weaknesses are. He's the only person who knows everything about me, including how to take me down, from the inside or outside.

He could break me without putting any true amount of effort into it. That truly frightens me.

This only made what happened next that much stranger in my eyes.