Yo. I know the chapter sorta drawls, but I actually began this fic with no mind to the plot what-so-ever. So I'm workin on it.
Kitten625: Aw, yes. That was exactly what I was going for, ya know? Someone who can be funny, witty, but easily embarrassed. I'm glad ya like it.
Tamah: Thanks, Your comment made me get my butt into gear and actually start this chapter, so thanks for the motivation.
Oh, And I'm sorry if Italics appear when they aren't meant to. Fanfic is once again my nemesis.
The forensics behind a death can be quite complex and intricate. There's the DNA, the prints, the evidence of query. But behind all the interesting stuff, corruption festers. There's always one or two sniveling men who attempt to circumvent the law by bribe or boast, perhaps even via witty chicanery.
Know what I mean?
It's easy for the law to be uprooted and decayed through cavity entrenched molars of lies and deceit. But sometimes, on rare occasion, a hero defined by societal terms will step forward and stake a claim upon himself in order to enhance the society, regardless of personal self-sacrifice.
Itachi was one of these few.
There were many things he wished he could take back, what he yearned to relive and perhaps make better. But, there were few things he regretted. He had saved his beloved village from Hells fury that was sought to be brought down by his own, too-proud clan. He had prevented a second ninja war, and therefore, spared many, many lives.
But in the process, he left his only brother in a cadaverous mess, without any family or friend, and only murderous memories to haunt him relentlessly. He molded his brother into an avenger, a monster, he was sure. Was it really all for the right? Was his reasoning just?
Of course it was.
…Wasn't it?
Saya had used to extol the way some people drank. After all, drinking wasn't just a verb, it was an art form. There was a certain way in which one should hold their liquor, and how they should not. It required a sense of air, more regal, attuned to the taste of the nectar with in the liquid. One had to allow it to pique the soul and invade the senses, allowing the taste to flood the mind.
Saya, personally, had never mastered any of it. In fact, she just took a swig to be done with it. She had never been a drastic drunk in the past, it was more of a newly acquired habit.
So as she sat down before the crackling fire, the Uchiha, who had previously joined them, and Hoshigake idly exchanging small nods or looks, she realized that she was the only one smiling. She assumed it was from her drink, which she nuzzled closely, but she hated the warmth she felt in the pit of her stomach and coursed through her veins, compared to the cold that seemed to be inflicting harsh gales on the two men. She knew that her chakra was meager, especially compared to Hoshigake, but her conscience tugged at her mightily until she finally broke beneath it.
Kisame mumbled under his breath at the ripping wind that seemed to blow, even through his large form. There was a biting frigidness to the air, and it didn't help that the wind was as strong as a…
Well, it was strong.
And what made him even more agitated was Itachi, impeccable as ever, sitting quietly with closed eyes, seemingly unaffected by the wind, unlike him.
He suppressed a shiver as the small fire seemed to almost blow out. There were few trees around them, for they had stopped in a less dense part of the forest, and were situated in a wide open field.
Suddenly, the wind stopped, almost as if it was never there. The world became muted to the howling gusts, leaving only the newly invigorated flames to fill the void with crackling sniggers. The trees around them continued to twist and shudder in the gusty night, but the three were left unaffected. Taken aback, Kisame instantly shot a glance towards the woman across from them, who calmly took a sip from yet another bottle she seemed to retrieve from no where. She looked innocent enough as she drank deeply, but he knew it to be her who had stopped the wind.
"How did you do that?" He questioned. Without missing a beat, she lift one eye at him.
"Do what?"
"You know what!" He growled, short on patience. She sniggered as she lifted the sake from her lips.
"Your chattering teeth was giving me a head ache." He growled dangerously, but said nothing in reply. Instead, he poked at the fire with a long twig he found next to him and embraced the silence. He idly watched her sip from her bottle. Sip, after sip, after sip, after sip. There was no real blush on her face, and he had to admit that it seemed as though she was holding her own well enough at the moment.
All in all, though, this whole drinking habit was almost disgusting. Why the hell did she drink so damn much? . He cast an eye over to the stoic Itachi, who seemed as though he were peacefully dozing. Kisame knew better though: The Uchiha was alert, as always, only seemingly relaxed.
"Why do you drink so much, onna?" He asked. She gulped down the last of her drink and set it aside, lazily looking back at him.
"Why don't you drink more?" She retorted.
"Answering a question with a question is rude." He grumbled. The fire kicked up a bit as he shoved the rest of the stick into the flames. The muted silence continued a few more moments before he heard her voice. Although, it seemed more that she was talking to herself than actually answering his question.
"I drink to forget. It's easy to forget the past when you're too smashed to remember the present." She stated matter-of-factly. Kisame looked up to her, and quirked a brow.
"And what is it you're trying to forget?" Itachi's voice made her jump a bit, but it was more due to her hiccup than surprise. She began making small waving signals with her hands, creating shadow puppets from the light emitted from the fire.
"Don't we all want to forget something?" She asked cryptically.
Itachi kept his silence, and so did Kisame.
The three strolled along the beaten road. The forest had thinned out to scarcely any tree's, and more of fields of wheat and rice. And as for the strolling, it wasn't so much of that:
Itachi simply took each step at a time.
Kisame trudged, annoyed with all of Saya's comments and quips.
So Saya was actually the only one to do the strolling, and she did so happily.
To tell you the truth, she was actually having a bit of fun. Hoshigake was extremely fun to pester, because he didn't say anything, but merely festered. A thought crossed her mind.
"You guys aren't allowed to kill me, are you?" There was no reply, Itachi just being reserved while Kisame was begrudging to humor her. "Say, where is this clubhouse of yours anyway?"
Again, no answer. She sighed dramatically, and produced yet another gourd of sake from somewhere. She took a swig before motioning to Kisame, who was ahead of her on her left.
"Hoshigake~san, don't you want some sake?" She chirped.
Yeah, just as soon as I rip out that insolent little mouth of yours. He glared ahead of himself. Why did he put up with all this childish banter, you ask? Well, for one, every time he went to quip back at her, Itachi sent him a mild glare, warning him that he did not want any arguing of any sort. And as much as he would love to rip off her pretty little head and stuff it into that gourd, he had a mission, one that didn't include killing their objective.
"Hoshigake~san!" She exclaimed. Suddenly, she found herself pinned to the ground, Kisame's large blade at the tip of her chin.
"Onna, one more word and I'll fail my mission, got it?" He snarled. She began to giggle, then she out-right guffawed right into his face.
"I was wondering how long it would take that saintly patience of yours to break!" She laughed. Sneering, he stood upright and kicked her in the side, just for good measure. She gasped and glared at him, but it quickly was replaced with a sly smile. He was about to question her about it when suddenly she was behind him. Quickly, he spun around and swung at her, only for her to dodge it and slide underneath his legs and behind him once more. As she did, she snatched up his cloak and tangled it around his legs, and as she resurfaced behind him, she lightly pushed him forward.
The material caught bewteen his feet and calfs, tripping him a bit before he recovered and turned on her.
His face was masked with pure rage as he stared at her vehemently, retraining himself from ripping her apart.
She smiled and waved.
He growled.
Itachi stepped beside Kisame and watched the woman carefully.
"That's enough." He said, his tone held the finality of the evening. She waved him off and began walking once again, done with having her fun. As she left the pair behind, Kisame mumbled to his partner.
"Can't we at least knock her out and drag her to Leader? Her mouth is getting on my nerves." There was a brief silence before Itachi decided to answer.
"Perhaps talking to her might help." He left it at that and began walking again, before she got too far ahead. Kisame watched Itachi, confused at what his comment meant.
Why the hell would he talk to such a drunk, talkative, unattractive woman?