Kisame remembers the first time he saw Itachi. Pale. Thin. Brooding. Just a kid. But he was all there – at least, Kisame thought Itachi was just this side of sane. Or insane, depending on if you knew Itachi back then and how well you valued your life.
Kisame knew his name but was compelled to ask anyway.
"Hey kid. You got a name?"
"Itachi Uchiha."
He speaks! And what a voice. So soft and gentle but there was a definite steel to it. Kisame was surprised he wasn't bleeding.
The first time they went on a mission- Kisame let Itachi deal the final blow. Actually, Kisame let him do all the work. Kisame just sat back and watched, waiting to see how this kid dealt with death. Fairly well, Kisame found out. He didn't relish it though, like most in their profession. He fascinated Kisame, to say the least.
"He's dead," Kisame announced like an idiot.
"You doubted me." There is no question mark but it is there is Itachi's stance, his slightly curled fingers.
"Of course not."
He was still a kid, after all.
"I like to see the life drain form their face. The pain…" his quiet tone took on dream-like quality. "I enjoy it. To delight in something so sick- there is something wrong with me."
"No. You're just like the rest of us."
And he didn't like that response much. To be like everyone else, that was a fate worse than death. But really, Kisame wanted to laugh. Because, Kisame highly doubted normal was ever part of God's plan for this kid.