Author's Note: For those wondering why I killed off Ukon in the last chapter, the answer is quite simple. I needed some angst and Ukon hasn't appeared in the anime yet, so I have no idea how to write him. This chapter is far more Akatsuki centered than the last. Enjoy.

Naruto didn't actually give the Konoha shinobi any of the details surrounding his acquisition of the Lightening Blade. Most of it was none of their business. So he gave a highly abbreviated and edited version of what actually happened instead.

"This guy named Rokusho Aoi from the Rain tried to join the Akatsuki. The idiot attacked me from behind, so I killed him. I kept Raijin.

"I figure you people want the sword more than I do."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Was a man named Idate with the Rain-nin?"

"Aoi came to the village alone, as far as I could tell. What, did he have a partner or something?"

A bitter smile crossed the examiner's lips. "No. Just a student."

The startled look finally left the lady Hokage's face.

"This is a very generous gift." A pause. For a moment, Tsunade's eyes were distracted, and seemed to be looking at something that wasn't there. Then she dragged her consciousness back to the task at hand. "Though it is early, I believe we should convene until the afternoon. You may explore the village if you wish, though I will ask you to allow your ANBU escorts to accompany you."

Itachi nodded stiffly. "Very well."

Naruto hastily shoved his possessions back into his bag, though he made sure to toss the stale pokey in the garbage on their way out.

-

As usual when they were in a village with no particular mission in mind, as soon as they were outside, the two teams split and went in different directions. Their ANBU escort for a moment exchanged startled looks, before a quiet directive from their leader sent half of the team after each Akatsuki pair.

Their habit of separating in non-combat situations was one borne more out of comfort level than any real desire to confuse pursuers. While Naruto had worked almost exclusively with Kisame and Itachi for two years, and while the two teams worked together on occasion for missions requiring greater numbers, for the most part the shinobi sought the company of their partners. It was mostly by necessity, but partially by Hirayama Reiko's desire to have some semblance of control over the more independent shinobi that the unusual nature of the Akatsuki teams developed.

Some outsiders might have observed the almost unhealthy dependence the Akatsuki appeared to have on their comrades and commented on its apparent inefficiency. Akatsuki working on missions independently died as often as not. The system itself seemed bound to failure, as shinobi were taught to operate alone, and if they lost that ability, they were thought incompetent.

This wasn't precisely true, and considering the lone wolf nature of most of the Akatsuki, the partnerships in themselves were necessary just to keep the shinobi bound together by a common thread, since they lacked the hidden village that gave most ninja a reason to work towards a common goal. Not that all Akatsuki formed such partnerships. Most in fact didn't. There were high numbers of jounin given permanent scouting or guard assignments around and in Kaizen and Akatsuki headquarters, and while such shinobi might gain some camaraderie with their fellows, it wasn't in same league as the bond formed between the teammates of the Akatsuki active. Except for the occasional assistant or major surgery, the medics worked alone, and the council was beyond the comprehension of most people anyway.

As a rule, Akatsuki never fought alone. They rarely ate alone. Considering most Akatsuki were in fact criminals in the countries of their origin, overall, they were surprisingly gregarious. There were exceptions of course, but even Itachi on occasion could be convinced to go to a bar, and Gaara had found a meditation partner in Matsushita Sen, who habitually went out into the wilderness to commune with nature, and didn't object to doing it in company.

It was all an illusion. Casual friendships were common, one-night stands even more so, but close relationships among the Akatsuki were all but nonexistent. There was simply no room for them, and no real need for them. Everyone already had someone, after all.

Kisame wasn't surprised when he and Itachi ended up outside the same restaurant they had eaten at the last time they had been in Konoha, four years ago. The food had been good, the service exemplary, and the place served excellent pork dumplings, which Itachi was inordinately fond of. The sushi wasn't bad either, so Kisame had no objections.

It was too late for breakfast, and too early for lunch, but the restaurant was open anyway. The hostess blinked once at the sight of their high-collared coats and Kisame's Samehada strapped to his back, but either she was an incredibly good actor or just uninformed, because after a moment she smiled broadly and gestured for them to follow her. The ANBU didn't follow them in, though it was easy enough to sense them around the perimeter of the restaurant, presumably either keeping watch or waiting to step in if things got out of hand.

The few other denizens paid them no attention, apparently used to the sight of shinobi armed to the teeth. After both of them ordered, the two ninja sat in silence while they waited for their food. At least that was how it appeared to the ANBU outside. It didn't occur to them that something was slightly odd about Kisame rhythmically tapping his chopsticks on the tabletop. To them, it just appeared as a sign of impatience, a nervous habit. Itachi's occasional tracing of an unseen design on the table elicited even less attention.

It wasn't the code Naruto had learned. That particular signing method had been created so all Akatsuki had a way of communicating silently. It wasn't really a code at all; just a result of working so long and so intensely with someone that the slightest gesture conveyed complete thoughts. Naruto had already started the process with Gaara, but he just thought it meant he was getting better at reading the former sand-nin's moods. Despite several tutoring sessions on the subject, Naruto still didn't fully comprehend what it meant to have the blood chakra bond, something all Akatsuki active shared with their partners.

It was something of a cross between a summoning jutsu and a binding seal. About a century ago, a brilliant (or completely insane; depended on who you asked) shinobi master created a way to bind people to him in the same way summoning jutsus often made humans the masters of animals. There were several problems with the shinobi master's formula. One was it required someone with a conscious control over their chakra, another was the bond went two ways, as it needed a significant blood sacrifice from both parties involved, presumably because free will came into the equation as it didn't for animal summoning jutsus. In disgust, the shinobi master gave up the idea, but his methods remained documented, secreted in his scroll library and forgotten. Until the former sensei of Hirayama Reiko came across it and gave it to his student as part of her course of study. The rest was pretty much history.

Be it through bribery, manipulation, blackmail or outright deception, a surprising number of shinobi agreed to Reiko's terms for being active in the field. One of those who refused was Orochimaru, who valued his independence more than the promise of power. Two of those who agreed were Uchiha Itachi and Hoshigaki Kisame.

They were the youngest and the newest of the ten (now nine after Orochimaru's departure, though really eight as Reiko was excluded from the process), with Kisame a mere three years older than Itachi, and had been thrown together because neither of their fighting styles were really conducive for working with others. Both of them understood the theory of the blood chakra bond well enough, but Itachi hadn't cared about the implications and Kisame thought he could find ways around them.

But the blood chakra bond had been forbidden for a reason, though after its creation it had been used a total of twice and didn't involve human sacrifice. It just happened to be permanent, which Reiko 'forgot' to tell the participants.

When Kisame finally found out that the bond was irreversible, he was torn between the two urges to hunt Reiko down and kill her (unlikely, as the first time he'd insulted her to her face she'd broken all the fingers in his right hand before he'd seen her move), and throw up what he'd eaten for lunch. A blood chakra bond sounded like something out of a really, really bad porn novel, one of those sadomasochist ones with heavy bondage. He'd lost less blood throughout the whole ordeal than he usually did after a decent spar, and now he was permanently stuck with a pale pretty-boy with family issues. Not to mention he seemed to have all the personality of a rotting grapefruit.

It took months for the silence to get anywhere near comfortable. Drawing Itachi into a conversation about anything was difficult. The guy was the brooding hero stereotype, or would have been if he hadn't murdered his entire clan in something less than six hours. Gorgeous, powerful, intelligent, and seriously, seriously antisocial.

The only time Kisame could recall Itachi being the one to initiate a dialogue was about a week after they went on their first mission together. Kisame had been cleaning his Samehada (a difficult task, but a strong stain remover helped immensely), and Itachi out of the blue asked him if he could see the sword.

The question had been. . . unexpected. Kisame looked at Itachi skeptically. He didn't look capable of getting the Samehada off the ground, much less holding it, but that Waterfall shinobi Itachi had thrown last week had to have been at least one-hundred sixty pounds, so maybe. . . he tossed his sword to Itachi. The former leaf-nin caught a hold of the handle a good two feet off the ground, but had it in his grip less than five seconds before he let go of the Samehada like it had bitten him. Kisame gritted his teeth and tried to refrain from an irritated sigh as the still-damp blade came to rest on the ground. It had taken him an hour to get the sword clean, and now it was covered in dirt because his partner had a newly discovered case of butterfingers.

"Kisame, where did you get that sword?"

As he reached for the Samehada and began looking it over for nicks, Kisame scrambled for a response that wouldn't sound either bitter or petulant. Normally Itachi was one of the least bothersome people Kisame knew, but he had gotten his sword dirty, damn it! "I've always had the Samehada, Itachi-san."

The Uchiha looked at him neutrally as he rhythmically flexed and unflexed his fingers. "A family heirloom then."

"I suppose." Kisame shrugged. He personally had no memory of his parents, but he didn't remember when exactly the Samehada had come into his possession, so it was as good an explanation as any. Itachi didn't inquire further even after Kisame's less than definite response, but instead asked for some disinfectant and bandages from their supplies. Which even made less sense, really, as Kisame couldn't recall Itachi ever getting wounded on their last mission, but it was hardly an unreasonable request.

As Kisame passed the medical supplies to Itachi (this time by hand. No telling if Itachi's clumsiness was a recurring thing) he blinked at the sight of Itachi's left hand, the hand that had briefly held the Samehada. It looked. . . raw. Like all the skin had been scrapped off. While the sharkskin sword had a habit of shredding instead of the usual clean cut of most swords, the handle was smooth enough.

"What the?" Had Itachi's hand scrapped the blade by accident? It would sure explain why he had dropped the sword. Still a slightly clumsy move, but much more likely than just dropping it outright.

"Your sword dislikes me." Now Itachi was assigning human characteristics to inanimate objects. Christ, not only was his new partner girly, he was outright psychotic. Kisame was certainly fond of his sword (it was much better balanced than other weapons its size), but even he didn't attribute sentience to the blade.

"Itachi-san, I don't think the Samehada has any real preference for its. . ." With a slightly irritated look in his eyes, Itachi resolutely reached over and gripped the blade's handle with his still uninjured right hand. After a moment, he let go, and showed his palm and fingers to Kisame. This time, not only was the skin scrapped off, blood was leaking from the pores. There was a moment where Kisame couldn't think of anything to say.

"That's. . . never happened before."

"Has anyone else ever wielded the Samehada?"

"No, but who's ever heard of a sword that does that," and Kisame made a theatrical gesture at Itachi's hands, "to people who try and use it?"

"Before I met you, I had never heard of a sword that absorbs chakra either." Kisame had to admit that Itachi had a point.

That was pretty much the most involved conversation they shared in the first two months of their acquaintance. Anything Kisame found out about Itachi was sporadic and usually accidental. Like when they traveled far north into the mountains, and and Kisame for the first time overheard one of the Uchiha's thoughts.

((I hate the cold.)) Hardly something deep and soul-revealing, but Kisame knew Itachi wouldn't appreciate it all the same, so he kept his mouth shut about this new development in the bond.

It only took a few days after they started out on their partnership for Kisame to gain a grudging respect for Itachi's abilities, but it took much longer for him to realize how far he could push the young leaf renegade before he started to crack, and what exactly set the prodigy off.

Families, for one. Itachi had no respect for them, possessed an unnatural loathing for them that seemed out of place in the usually stoic shinobi. There was one eventful month when they had been forced south for a vacation by Reiko-sama, who insisted both of them were too intense for such young people. It turned out to be one of those family beach spots where everyone went after their fathers got a week off from work. Itachi's mouth thinned every time they saw a father playing with his daughter, or worse yet, a young man leading his little brother by the hand.

Kisame actually loved the beach. Stupid fish ancestry jokes aside, the swimming was much better in the tropics than it ever had been in the Mist Country, and the water was much clearer. Better for snorkeling. It had been something of a pleasure to teach Itachi, the wonder ninja, how to swim properly. After the Uchiha gained some confidence in the water, he started to enjoy the trip as long as they went to the more isolated places where you didn't run into a toddler every four seconds. He especially liked to observe the more dangerous marine animals.

Kisame wasn't exactly sure Itachi was more relaxed after the trip was over, but he had certainly lost the too-pale vampire look after spending so much time in the sun, and the sea urchin and rock fish samples he procured were later used as the basis for some homemade poisons, as Itachi didn't trust most shinobi suppliers. Kisame could only roll his eyes at that last. Only Itachi would turn a vacation into a working trip.

Small animals. Itachi definitely hated small animals. He was the only person Kisame knew who actually frowned at the sight of kittens and puppies. After a rather prolonged assassination of a prominent family in the far east (the lord had a number of hired shinobi at his disposal) Itachi had made a point of slitting the throat of the family dog whose barking had alerted the guards to their presence.

People who flirted with him. Kisame quickly got used to being ignored whenever they were in the proximity of anyone with more sex drive than was really healthy. He became equally accustomed to the brutal massacre that inevitably followed when some idiot thought Itachi was just being coy and 'insisted' on invading Itachi's personal bubble. These people were thankfully few, not due so much to Itachi's flat out refusal of their offers so much as Kisame's presence. Most assumed he was a bodyguard of some sort, and steered clear after he sent a glare their way. Unfortunately, that tactic didn't work on drunks, the local strong men, beautiful women who weren't used to being rebuked or rich nobles with guards of their own. They had to leave town with some regularity. Kisame learned to order meals that were easy to take with him.

There were a variety of other pet peeves, such as the aforementioned cold and people who talked too much, but those were mere irritants, and for the most part didn't end in an eruption of blood and gore.

It is a well-known proverb that there is a thin line between genius and insanity. From long experience, Kisame would say that no such line exists.

-

Not that Kisame really minded. Itachi might have been a few cards short of a full deck, but it was the jokers that were missing. Rarely used and hardly missed.

Besides, Kisame was fairly sure he himself hardly fit the definition of a sane and stable individual. No shinobi did. And you know what is said about those who live in glass houses. Not that Kisame would really care if someone threw rocks at his apartment, but the expression still applied. Sort of.

Something was bothering his partner. At a time when he was usually on his second platter of dumplings, Itachi was systematically mashing the first into a pancake of dough and pork, a slow and tiresome process when one was eating with chopsticks instead of a spoon or fork. Kisame had already made his way through a dozen sushi rolls, a plate of nigiri (1), half a bottle of sake and was considering if it would be too rude to order some dessert.

The best way to get someone's attention was to take something of theirs without asking. Itachi was no exception, and when Kisame reached across the table to snatch the last remaining dumpling that still held a semblance of its original shape, instinctively the Uchiha blocked the incoming chopsticks with his own, and frowned in a slightly puzzled manner at Kisame. Kisame shrugged.

You aren't eating.

Itachi flicked Kisame's chopsticks away. -You don't even like pork dumplings.-

Do you think we're going to run into that little brother of yours?

-Probably.- After one last glance at his lunch, Itachi shoved his plate to the side and with grim purpose grabbed the sake bottle and poured some of its contents into his glass. With the aura of one committing a necessary but distasteful act, Itachi threw his head back and downed the liquor in one swallow. Kisame watched this with slightly morbid curiosity. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be horrified or amused. Itachi always seemed to find it a necessity to be drunk when the topic of family came up.

Itachi-san, this isn't vodka shots. You're supposed to sip sake. Purposefully ignoring him, Itachi slammed the glass back on the tabletop and again reached for the bottle. Kisame was beginning to get a little worried. Though pound for pound Itachi weighed slightly more than Naruto, he drank rarely and his alcohol tolerance was lower. Usually even one glass was enough to give the Uchiha a bit of a buzz.

Itachi-san-

-I hate this village.- The non sequitor threw Kisame briefly off his train of thought.

What?

-Konoha is so. . . weak.- The second glass Itachi briefly regarded with disgust before he took a large mouthful and swallowed, coughing slightly as it went down. -And Reiko wants to perpetuate this weakness. Guard it. Help it thrive. She wants it to go on, long after it should have died.-

So that's what was bothering him. After Itachi's initial outburst back in Kaizen, Kisame thought his partner's silence had seemed a little forced.

As Itachi finished his second glass, Kisame with a pointed look at his partner took a hold of the sake bottle before Itachi could start groping for it and poured the last of it into his own glass. As their waitress came up to them and asked them if they wanted anything else, Kisame made sure to order some strong coffee along with their customary dango (2).

Despite many rumors to the contrary, coffee in of itself didn't stave off hangovers. However, it was the only beverage with enough punch to cover up the noxious taste of the Akatsuki hangover cure, a mix of various herbs and unnatural substances that helped lessen the more unpleasant aftereffects of alcohol.

Kisame watched as Itachi tasted the coffee, grimaced, and dumped in liberal amounts of cream and sugar. It was an act he had observed often enough in their six years together, though usually the little scene took place in the mornings after a bar run instead of as a preventive measure. Kisame himself didn't drink coffee. It tasted too bitter to him and he preferred a decent tea over the near toxic levels of caffeine he found in Itachi's morning beverage. It also made him jittery as hell, while the five cups Itachi consumed in the mornings only seemed to give the Uchiha's thought processes a kick start. The only person Kisame had ever met who was more dependent on the beverage than his partner was Gaara.

Itachi-san, I doubt Reiko-sama's real goal is to ensure the survival of the Leaf. She's not exactly the altruistic type.

-Her true motivations are unfathomable as usual. The Cloud would be a much better option for trade opportunities. They have access to a broader range of goods and their lords would be far less suspicious of our intentions. It was also a terrible idea to choose Naruto for this mission. He has far too many connections to this village to be reliable.-

As fond as Kisame was of the kid, he knew Itachi was right. Naruto hadn't had the violent separation with his village that normally ensured that there would be no divided loyalties. He might not have liked many of the Konoha denizens much, but Naruto guarded friendships fiercely and was slow to let them go. He was also tactless and headstrong, both of which were bad characteristics to find in someone who was supposed to help negotiate a treaty between two warring factions. Far too likely to say things he would regret later, by either revealing valuable information or giving insults that could tear the tenuous peace they had with the Leaf apart. If the copy ninja hadn't interfered during the meeting in Godaime's office, it might have already happened.

However, Kisame did find it unlikely that Naruto would just straight up leave the Akatsuki to return to the Leaf. He might be a little more pleased than most with the prospect of an alliance, but his relationships formed within the Red Moon were much more recent and longer lasting than any he had created in Konoha, except perhaps for that one teacher the kid mentioned on occasion, the chuunin who used to treat him the ramen all the time.

They had hours to waste before their next meeting with Godaime was scheduled, so Kisame took his time eating his dessert and periodically raising and lowering his chakra levels to give their ANBU guards something to worry about. He wondered if the Konoha shinobi would let them out alive if the treaty didn't pan out. Probably not. Honor wasn't something the Leaf could afford considering their current war with the Mist and Cloud. Well, as least the food was still tasty. Good to know that some things stayed constant even while everything else went to hell.

Kisame took a bit of his dango and tried not to think too much about the current state of affairs. He didn't like Konoha any more than Itachi did. Despite his homeland's moniker of "The Land of the Bloody Mist," the air in the Leaf smelled far more blood-drenched, seeped in the souls of a thousand wandering warriors seeking vengeance for their useless deaths. Kisame wondered where Naruto was.

-

Sasuke was obviously still unsure in his evilness. Sakon was sure that was the explanation. He couldn't think of any other reason to use such a ridiculous ending cliché. I've been dying for a rematch sounded like something out of a kid's morning cartoon. Honestly, some new material would be appreciated. Sakon already knew he was eternally cursed to serve sadistic looney toons who insisted on applying too much sunscreen, but he at least deserved to serve original sadistic looney toons. Who didn't use puns. That would be good.

"Sakon, am I going to fast for you?" As usual, it was impossible to tell if Sasuke was being sarcastic. The little brat didn't even have the mocking tone down yet, and he'd been apprenticed to Orochimaru for what, three, four years? And the kid was considered a genius. . . why? If Sasuke was trying his hand at subtlety, he wasn't doing a very good job.

"Of course not, Sasuke-sama. I was just distracted." Sakon was sure to keep his own sarcasm under control. Genius or no, the Uchiha had learned a few things from Orochimaru, none of them pleasant. He kept on moving and didn't bother wondering about Sasuke's vendetta against the Kyuubi kid. Rivalries could get really nasty. Orochimaru's mild obsession with the sennin Jiraiya was proof enough of that.

-

Naruto was pretty sure a clothing boutique had been there before. The pastry shop looked slightly out of place on the street corner near the clock tower entrance, the sign painted over and peeling. The dim sum sure looked good though, and Naruto's stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't had breakfast and unlike in his childhood, he actually had enough money to go inside and buy whatever he wanted to eat. He glanced to the side at Gaara, who appeared wholly unaffected by the smells wafting from inside the store, but Naruto knew Gaara better than anyone, and the former sand-nin's eyes were staring rather fixatedly in the direction of the meat rolls as they cooled on a rack in the corner. Naruto grinned. It was nice to have a group consensus.

Two people were already in the shop when they entered, looking over the small cakes decorated with frosting behind the glass. Though the shop owner frowned at their Akatsuki coats, he didn't seem inclined to lose business by refusing them service and dutifully asked them for their selections. As Gaara in his usual monotone requested one curry beef meat roll and two barbeque pork, the girl near the cakes (who even from the back looked oddly familiar) turned at the sound of Gaara's voice. She froze at the sight of them, her green eyes wide. Then the boy turned.

"Sakura, is something wrong. . ?" He trailed off when he met Gaara's eyes. Naruto's mind froze. Sakura? Sakura! This gorgeous woman was his little Sakura-chan? And who the hell was this guy? They sure looked like they were on a date, but this guy wasn't Sasuke. For one thing, even if Sasuke had an enormous growth spurt, Sakura's date was about six inches too tall to be the younger Uchiha. And his hair was too straight. And unless Sasuke had eyebrow implants. . . Naruto's mind rebooted. Eyebrows. Thick eyebrows.

"Fuzzy eyebrows?" To his irritation, Naruto's voice came out a squeak. But it wasn't so bad, because so did Sakura's when she finally wrenched her eyes away from Gaara.

"Naruto?"

(1) nigiri- raw fish, basically

(2) dango- Japanese dumpling made from rice flour; usually three to four are served on a skewer