vi.
Their failure to detain the Nine-Tails is met with a quiet hand-wave. Pein, for all of his dramatics, is for the time being content so long as trying again remains a viable option. The Fox must be the final beast sealed into that strange statue, after all, and they will have plenty of time to pursue him later. They're given a weak scolding that's nowhere near as explosive as anything Itachi had heard from his own father, then sent on their way to gather more intel on the other Jinchuuriki.
It is as they cross the border from Rain and into Earth Country that Itachi fishes his straw hat from their shared pack and notices something quite curious: two protective c harms have been fastened to the brim and hang among the paper tassels, and upon their silky braided cords are words written in blood.
Itachi has never seen Kisame's handwriting, but he's sure as he stares at them while walking that it is his partner's handiwork. When had he pulled that off? True that Itachi had slept well at a shoddy inn somewhere on the outskirts of Rain, but he is not necessarily a light sleeper. He's sure that no matter how sick he was, he would've stirred if his partner had gotten up and left or trudged back in from the storm that'd rolled in as they ate.
He studies the amulets curiously. One of them, on his right, is stitched the words, Good health. Above it in blood Kisame has written, Long life, and he feels an odd mix of warmth and desolation to see it. Though it's a lovely sentiment, he most definitely does not have the first, which left untreated will ensure he won't have the second, either. And if the sickness does not get him first, Sasuke will be sure to cut him down before long.
The other on his left is a separate charm different in color that reads, Ward off evil. He wonders if that is some sort of joke, since for most people they encounter, the two of them are the evil that much be warded off. Stained into the fabric above that, however, are the characters stating, Together. He nearly trips.
"Are you all right, Itachi-san?"
But judging by the tone of Kisame's voice and that he's barely turned enough to even see Itachi from the corner of his eye, he knows what the other man has seen.
"Indeed," he answers. He's flushed behind the paper tassels of his hat and tries to steady his footing, giving a small smile of reassurance more for himself than anything. "Sorry to worry you, Kisame."
It is such a simple kindness, but it is one that sticks with him all morning and all afternoon and well after they've stopped to make camp. Even as they chat here or there about the sprawling foothills or their travel plans for tomorrow and long after Kisame falls asleep, the back of Itachi's mind is still caught up on the blood-infused talismans, wrapping around the gesture as if to warm his very soul. After everything he's done, the knowledge that he may be a person that someone else bothers to care for is curious and intriguing.
He thinks, as he inevitably does, of his family. It is nearly twelve full hours after seeing those amulets dangling from his hat that he is able to have a coherent idea of what it is he's feeling. At first he thinks back to that first time he'd seen Kisame. Monster, he'd thought then, just before the man went on to speak so calmly of killing his comrades and musing on what it must be like to kill one's family—monster indeed, but he was also so polite that it bordered on demure. It was more than Itachi could say for himself, the monster that slaughtered his own clan and didn't even have the strength to speak in more than a dull monotone.
But he'd had also seen the look on Kisame's face to anticipate dipping his feet into a cool stream or sinking himself into a river, had heard the relief in his sigh as he cracked his back upon a warm futon. He'd caught him staring and glancing away and had clung to his back and had tasted the skin-salt of his thumb as it pressed against his lips in that cave—
He shivers harshly. Despite his appearance and despite his apparent acceptance that he is damned—little more than a dead man walking—Kisame has been keeping Itachi in his thoughts, cared about his wellbeing enough to buy and strengthen and attach protective charms to his damn hat. Perhaps what that really meant was that he was keeping him in his heart. That is the logical conclusion, at least.
Just before dawn, Itachi stirs from his place. The time of year is just about right for Obon festival, and if someone like Kisame can still open his heart to others, Itachi can as well. He gathers small stones from the forest floor and builds a small enclosure, scooping twigs and leaves inside before casting a small fire-style jutsu at his fingertips to light it aflame.
He is shot through briefly with dread so intense that he squeezes his eyes shut. What the hell is he thinking, calling down his ancestors from the afterlife when he's the one who sent them there in the first place? He has no home in which to entertain them or let them sleep in comfort, and he is sure to sooner be cursed for such a gross misstep than feel any sort of happiness at their presence.
But he takes in a slow, steadying breath. The smoke is irritating as it fills his nose and lungs, and so he fetches his hat from their pack to fan it away and stoke the flames in one motion. It will also help, he reasons, to imbue Kisame's kind intents onto his own. That way they can reach his family, whether they heed the call or not.
Good health, long life. He pulls the tassels and talismans over his forearm and fans at the tiny fire with the brim of the hat.
Ward off evil, together. It burns hotter, the embers turning orange and red and then white in before fading back again.
He cannot help but smile, and that is when he notices that Kisame has woken and of course is watching him. Without meaning to he stops fanning at the flames as they study each other. Smoke billows back around his face that he pulls into his body through his nostrils, shutting his eyes once more. When he stands it is abrupt, for under his partner's stare he suddenly knows he has no place to call forth his ancestors; he feels silly for even entertaining the idea in the first place. He kicks dirt over the tiny ceremonial fire and makes to leave, but when he fixes his hat upon his head the talismans chime like little bells.
They do not speak as they gather the rest of their things and make way deeper into Earth Country. For Itachi, his heart feels far too tangled to say anything worth the effort. He wonders, then, what Kisame's silence could mean.