Itachi's head is spinning as he lies there on the futon.
He'd known he would be pursued—Shimura would be an idiot not to try and silence him in one way or another. But to be framed, well, he really should have expected that, too. It certainly does not lie outside of the Leaf's—or perhaps more specifically the Elder's—scope to fabricate stories and provide cover stories for particularly sensitive incidents or accidents. Itachi worries less of his ability to talk himself out of the situation with the stranger across from him, and more that Sasuke, still so young and impressionable to all of Konoha's propaganda, will not be so convinced.
The assassin removes his hands and sits back on his haunches, then with a gentleness that does not suit his massive frame he extends his arm to help him up. Itachi blinks but does not deactivate his Sharingan, and as he glances up he realizes the man must be depending heavily on his mask to obscure his own eyes, for he does not seem afraid nor does he move to defend himself. It is cut through with an elegant red swirl wide across the tiny, slanted slits for eyes, but the most puzzling part is this: the four dashes that comprise the Mist Village's emblem are scratched out, with such little grace that it's almost as if it'd been done in tantrum. He is hunter nin, then, and that makes even less sense than his overly-polite speech and general good nature.
It isn't natural—none of it is. Not only should the Fire elders have no reason to involve Mist nin in their internal affairs, but this one appears to be a traitor as well. Further still, a hired blade should have wasted no time slitting his throat while he slept. Itachi does not know what to make of it, and nearly blurts,
"Are you attempting to toy with me before getting the job done?"
But it only makes the man laugh again. He drops his arm, his courtesy apparently not without its limits. "Your sense of caution is returning to you. That is good, at least."
"Answer my question."
He points, his robes rustling lightly with the motion. "I've left Samehada there in the corner. Of course, we shinobi make weapons of what we can, but I thought the gesture would speak for itself."
Itachi sits, mindful of his brother there at his side. "Do not move," he instructs seriously. "Should it come to a fight, you are not to move."
When had Sasuke ever been satisfied with empty orders? His frustration and fear are evident even in the dark of night. "What is he—"
"You are not to speak, either," Itachi chides, more harshly than he means. He turns his attention back to the hunter, drawing upon all of his experience as a respected leader to command his voice as intimidatingly as possible. "What is your name?"
He cocks his head to the side, and though the mask is expressionless, his parted fringe falls over it in a way that gives it a curious look. The moonlight from the window catches in his hair, a deep blue and tied in a short, unkempt tail high at the back of his skull, shaved close on its sides.
"Can you forgive me my poor manners?" he starts with sincerity. He dips his head to accentuate the apology. "It's not often I forget myself—I was a bit concerned about that doujutsu of yours, you see. My name is Hoshigaki Kisame, and Shimura Danzo-san is my current employer."
Itachi swears he has heard the name before, but he's come across all manner of ninja in his time on active duty. He frowns slightly when he's unable to place it exactly, but he's confident in one thing, at least. "You were named among those involved with the Bloody Mist's academy massacre." A tremor shakes Sasuke to hear such a thing.
"Something like that," he answers with a chuckle. "Perhaps you'd do well to remember that when you finally honor me with an answer to what I've asked."
He claims not to toy with us, Itachi thinks, but already suspects dishonesty one way or another. What could he be after?
"You've said yourself that I am not the sort of man who would plot to murder his family."
Kisame's laugh is much louder than before, hearty and genuine now. "Hardly a man, are you? Though you wield your words with the confidence of a Kage... you're quite the interesting one, Itachi-san."
"Is it common," Itachi wonders aloud through gritted teeth, unable to hide his growing annoyance, "for a contracted killer to talk his enemies to death?"
"Not common," he says; there is a smile evident on his face behind the mask, "but it is a rule for me. I do not take kindly to liars, especially those who seek to purchase my services under false pretense. I will not kill a man who does not deserve death."
That's enough to pique Itachi's interest. He keeps his face unreadable as he presses, refusing to be the only one playing mind games. "You detest liars, yet are comfortable taking payment for a deed left undone?"
Kisame only shrugs again, unfazed. "To those who deal in the world hidden beneath a shroud, my reputation precedes me: I am good at what I do, and I ask for payment only after the job is finished."
He almost smiles at that. Of course Shimura would have a contact like this lined up for some emergency or another, to keep word from spreading within Konoha's own ranks. Cheap bastard, as always. Briefly he allows himself the thought that perhaps his squad would've sided with him, but he pushes it from his mind. Wasn't it bad enough that he'd already involved Sasuke in this? No other innocents need to be counted among the defected.
"If I fail to secure you," Kisame continues, "or kill you, you'll be branded as missing nin— you and your kid brother, both. It did not seem to concern Shimura Danzo-san which fate was to become reality."
Itachi weighs that with seriousness. He'd been a weapon of the Leaf for most of his life, had seen firsthand the lengths to which it was willing to go to save face. It shouldn't have surprised him as deeply as it had, that they'd talked so casually of genocide the moment it'd been the convenient solution to a deeply-rooted problem. To simply write he and Sasuke's names in the Bingo Book and let the other village's elite and bounty hunters alike take care of them was child's play compared to what they'd asked of Itachi.
"Nii-san," says Sasuke in a pained whisper. "Did you—are they...I can't be a missing nin." His face is flushed and angry tears have pooled in his eyes. "Kakashi wouldn't let that happen, and...and—what else have you been lying to me about this whole time?"
Itachi swallows, his right hand squeezing the blanket so tightly even his fingernails ache. He levels his gaze to Kisame with a heavy look. It will be painful to speak it aloud, but he can manage the short version of it.
"Sasuke," he says as evenly as he can manage, "and Kisame, listen well, for I will only say this once: in response to Uchiha demands for fairer treatment, Danzo's suggestion in the guise of peace was to call for the clan's annihilation. I knelt there before them, a loyal tool, as he and the other elders took this into consideration with seriousness. I know enough of the Leaf's inner world to know that my refusal would be seen as betrayal. And here you sit, proving my suspicions correct.
"It is your choice to believe me, or not. I will take my brother across the sea and start a new life; if you are as noble as you claim to be, you will say nothing of it to those who seek who silence us."
His heart is pounding; it didn't matter, truly, how many battles he'd seen or how much blood he'd shed or how many horrors beyond mortal comprehension he's conjured for his enemies—his stomach always sours in the moments before a fight. At least this one would mean something, he figures, and he can live with that. There'd always been plenty of time afterwards to vomit in the dirt or the grass, and he wonders if he can make it the short sprint to the water now.
In his peripherals he sees that Sasuke is frozen there, staring at the blanket they share in shock. Across the mat Kisame sits still as ever, thinking. The seconds stretch on and on with only the sound of the calm waves outside filling the space between them. The sting of migraine stabs through Itachi's skull, a sorry sign that he has kept his Sharingan at the ready for far too long. He would keep it for however long it took, though, to ensure his brother's safety.
"I am glad to see my instincts have once again proven correct," Kisame says. He stands, the full size of him gargantuan there in the small, dark room. In one fluid movement he brings his hand to his face and pulls the mask from it, revealing sharp eyes like a shark's flanked by closed slits. Then he smiles, his teeth sharp in his too-wide mouth, and what he says next makes Itachi's skin break out in chills. "As I've said: I do not take kindly to liars. And though you've told me your plans to cross the water and begin anew, you've a better claim to Danzo-san's life than I do. Travel back with me to Konoha, so that we may exact our revenge."