The ring on a branch

Sakura's once upon a long, soft hair felt rough in between Ino's fingers, strands of pink hair that didn't seem to want to stay straight enough for her to comb in a way that would free Sakura's vision while helping her look put together enough. She brushed how she could the end of her disheveled locks, sacrificed in the heat of battle, unraveling it with the tip of her fingers and yanking unpurposefully her rival's head. "Ow! Careful Ino-pig!" Sakura complained.

"Be grateful I'm nice enough not to let you walk around with your hair looking like this," and Ino yanked softly her hair once more for good measure. "Besides, call it payback for hugging Sasuke like that. The nerve of you."

"Uhm," she heard more than saw Sakura smile, "they say it only takes one act of bravery to fall in love -OW."

"Ups. Sorry, my hand slipped."

"It did not!"

"It totally did!"

"Oh forget it." Sakura finished their banter and Ino kept working on her hair, they both subdued to silence, Ino focusing purposefully on the task at hand. "How's your face?" Ino blinked at Sakura's question, the boy from sound, the one that got his arms broken by Sasuke, -and what had happened to him? His chakra felt like...- had punched her when she tied his arms with the wire and made him attack Dosu. The hit had connected with the cheek already wounded by Kiro, so her bandage had soaked with blood.

"It's fine. It doesn't hurt as bad as it looks," which was a complete lie, but she couldn't show weakness in front of Sakura. Ino could (and probably would), cry herself to sleep from the pain, and that without considering her still sore -or broke, but let's hope not- ribs. By that point, Ino decided she had experienced what a real fight is when outside the Academy rules and protectiveness to keep them all safe, and as it stands, she was already done. No more fighting. No more jumping to help friends or attack a group thinking it will be easy. It wasn't. Tomorrow Team 10 will march to the tower and hope for the best. Now, she just would use her last strength to comb Sakura's hair.

"Although I don't understand why you did it, Lee's team had just arrived." Ino rolled her eyes at Sakura's words, but ultimately felt she could give her points for effort, her long-time friend seemed to be trying to trip Ino into saying how much stronger she was to start a new dispute. It was a good shot, Ino thought, it was Sakura's attempt to fish for someone who would downgrade her as much as she was doing it herself, but Ino still knew her better than anyone, and she decided at that point, that she was done letting Sakura downgrade her to lift herself up, too.

Besides, sure, Ino had sensed Neji and the other girl (Tenten, Lee called her), but she sensed them at the same time she jumped up to follow through Shikamaru's plan. She supposed that if their plan didn't work out, then they would have some backup. Plus, Neji's entrance unintentionally distracted the Sound-nin long enough for them to move; which granted, it was random, without his arrival, they probably would have had their asses served to them. But it happened, so there.

"To impress Sasuke-kun of course," she lied with a smirk.

Sakura tensed, but besides that, she didn't raise up to the challenge, "but why if they hadn't?"

Ino shrugged, "then I guess we wouldn't have tried… it was luck Sakura, sometimes it doesn't have to do with skill."

"Luck?" Sakura questioned. "No. I refuse to believe that. I refuse to leave my life in the hands of… luck." She ended with a tone of distaste in her mouth, a pout probably on her face that Ino could imagine but wasn't able to see.

Ino stopped her ministrations and squeezed Sakura's shoulder to get her to look at her, "you should never leave your life in the hands of anything or anyone but yourself." Ino blinked, completely letting aside that when performing her jutsu she was leaving her life pretty much in the hands of her teammates, "and I'm not saying you should, the more skill you have, the less luck you need. But still…" she trailed off, Sakura still watching her.

"Still?" Sakura asked, genuinely curious.

"Still." Ino deadpanned, "I can't add more than that."

Sakura pursed her lips but otherwise nodded, "alright. It's your turn."

"My hair is fine Foreh-"

"-I'm talking about your wounds." Sakura interrupted her. "I'll start with the one in your face, after that we can go behind a tree."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't flatter yourself, and don't think I haven't noticed the way you're leaning your weight to your left, what happened?"

Ino gritted her teeth in indignation, "ninja happened, what else? And you don't need to, I will receive medical attention once I reach the Tower. I'll be fine. Forehead, don't sweat it."

"If you reach the tower," Sakura corrected with a roll of her eyes, "and that doesn't mean you shouldn't bandage or clean that nasty cut over there, just let me help you. Grow up."

"You grow up."

"Just sit down, Ino."

"Nope." And then Sakura's fist moved to her ribs and Ino screamed, but the blow never connected. "What the hell Forehead?!"

Sakura smiled innocently, "hurts?"

Ino bit her lip and promptly sat on the floor as instructed, a new wave of pain assaulted her side making her wince. Sakura's smile grew. Ino twisted her mouth, "infinitely."

While Sakura started her ministrations on her wound Ino quickly glanced over her shoulder at the four boys talking at the other side of their camp, Team Gai had quickly left after helping Lee stood, allowing Sakura to thank him and wave them goodbye -Ino still didn't like Neji that much because he might be cute and all but he had dared to call them wimps and she was everything but, the bastard.- And now, with Sasuke's marks no longer covering the entirety of his body, he was surrounded by Naruto (who was assaulting him with questions of the likes of 'you did WHAT?'), Shikamaru and Chöji. Sakura grabbed her face and turned it around so she would look at her and cleaned the cut on Ino's cheek with water, it was both refreshing and torture. "OW," she complained.

"Stay still. You have both an ugly cut and a bruise around it, stupid Zaku."

"Who?"

"Zaku is the boy who punched you," Sakura explained while grabbing Ino's head more forcefully as to stop her from moving.

"Oh, that guy, what a bastard." She said, Sakura nodded. "How come you know his name?"

"He said it. Or maybe Dosu did? I'm not sure. I just know." Sakura finished cleaning her wound -too much burn, too much- and grabbed a brand new band from her backpack to replace the dirty old one. She sweetly, carefully covered Ino's wound and slightly pressured the endings to make sure it stuck to her skin. Then she stood and offered her hand to Ino.

"You know, why would you make me sit down if I'll have to stand almost immediately after?" She mocked, cocking her head to the side. "It's like you want me to be in pain. What is it? A new tactic of yours? Dirty girl."

"What? Do you want me to drag you?" Sakura snorted.

"Alright," Ino smirked and lifted up her feet -AH, IT HURT- for Sakura to grab.

"Are you serious?" Sakura lifted one pink eyebrow and slapped Ino's right foot, "you can't be."

"It was your idea," Ino explained, "I'm just complying." Sakura rolled her eyes but despite the PAIN -focused, hot, awfully hot-, Ino kept her ankles lifted for her to grab, Sakura glanced at the group of boys behind Ino -and Naruto's voice was still resounding through their ears so none of them were actually paying them any attention-, and then back at Ino.

"You can't be serious."

"I can't walk and I might have internal bleeding. If you want to help me, then drag me." She purred, and honestly, it was taking a lot of her to just mess around with Sakura, but this was the most normal thing she did in a long time (and it spoke volumes of their situation that her most normal thing to do was to be dragged across the battle field by her former best-friend).

"Ugh, fine. Have at it," Sakura made a distasteful sound with her mouth and grabbed both of her ankles, starting to walk backward and dragging Ino's body along with her. Ino yelped in pain, and Sakura smiled.

"Oh, never mind Forehead, I'll walk." She said through gritted teeth.

"Oh no, no, no." Sakura maliciously smiled, "I can't have you walking now, can I? You might have internal bleeding."

It completely backfired because both it hurt like a bitch but also because at one point during their journey they heard Naruto ask what are they doing? And Sasuke-kun replied embarrassing themselves, making all of them laugh out loud and, yeah, it totally sucked.

Ino saw the way Chöji's fingers grabbed the paper they so desperately needed out of the girl's hands, the very tip of the scroll tearing her palm, blood following the trace he left behind. He turned, his scarf dancing around his neck barely out of reach of his opponent's grasp. His lips moved, words were leaving his mouth but the sound didn't carry through the wind. For a moment Ino thought about what he was trying to say but shook her head to get rid of the idea and focus on more pressing matters.

"Run Chöji!" Ino screamed from the doorframe where she was resting her weight. Standing in between the entrance of the tower and Chöji was Shikamaru, holding as best as he could the three members of the gënin team from Suna that screamed bloody murder in their high pitched voices, sweat dripping from his chin, the neck of his shirt completely damped, shadow wavering in exhaustion. It was a true statement to proclaim that their strategy lacked both good taste and dignity, that it wasn't up to what their clans were known to pull through, but this was a fight that hopefully will not be saved on their record. It was rather embarrassing to jump at their enemy when they thought they were passing to the next round, their defenses down at the taste of their soon to be victory, but what was worse than that was actually falling for it, so Ino allowed herself not to feel really bad about it.

They spent the night alongside team seven because Ino could barely walk despite Sakura's help to bandage her torso, all of them desperately needed some rest after their encounter with the sound team and, in her case, the fight against the Kusa team. Sakura had told her nothing about what happened before their arrival, and Ino wasn't gossipy enough to ask -although she was, but she knew better than to try to make Sakura talk about something she didn't want to-. They reasoned that it would be safer to take turns of two to keep watch in case the sound-nin returned, despite Naruto's guarantee that he could handle them alone and, once the first ray of light touched the treetops, they parted ways at Shikamaru's request. Luckily Sakura was grateful enough to give them her canteen of water to thank them for their help, which they consumed almost instantly since they weren't able to find any river despite being, apparently, shinobi competent enough to kill another person. In response, Ino was quick and funny enough to tell her that it barely covered their fee, and they left soon after, Ino glancing back at Sasuke's retreating form, her heart jumping with excitement, he was beautiful.

Now, at last, they were doing the original plan that they hadn't been able to perform despite their wishes to do so. As it stands, Ino was of little help in this particular encounter. She couldn't quite move as freely as she used to during the first or even second day of the test, her body was barely holding itself together and the only thing keeping her from screaming was biting her lips forcefully. Her only assignment now was to stay close to the entrance as a last resort to stop the other team from entering the tower while Shikamaru, who recovered enough chakra to perform his shadow technique, held the three members of the other team while Chöji took the scroll from them, violently if needed.

Shikamaru allowed his best friend to pass him before releasing his shadow and running as fast as he could alongside him. The team from Suna, now free of his control, sprinted to reach them and used their entire weaponry in their attempt to stop them from entering the Tower and reach the safety they thought to have a minute ago. In desperation, Shikamaru jumped forward and immediately collapsed with both his teammates, sending the three of them inside the tower in one painful motion, their legs tangled.

"Ugh, move away," Ino ordered, pushing Shikamaru's legs away from hers. A puff of smoke and a unison scream of them later (a summoning scroll that was nothing to be impressed by -and honestly, she should have expected it), they were inside the third stage of the exam. If what Iruka-sensei had told them was true, and sadly she believed him because the man didn't know how to sugar coat things, they hadn't been nor the first team to arrive or the first one from Konoha. She didn't allow herself to give in to her curiosity and ask him how the rest of the teams that reached the third stage had done it, if they barely scraped the finish line like them or if their arrival had been more graceful. It took a lot of her strength to hold her tongue and force her brain to stop from recapitulating everything that went wrong in the forest and how she could have acted differently. Luckily for her, the pain she was suffering worked wonderfully as a distraction, so she had that to hold onto.

The smoke of the scroll had almost completely vanished out of the room when Iruka's smile shrunk out of existence and a serious expression settled on his face. He looked at them meticulously, resting a little longer on Chöji's jaw and Ino's form, gulping visibly and deepening his furrow as he opened his mouth to say something else, but quickly closed it. His breath became the only thing passing through his lips. The hallway they went through after their welcoming was white and bright enough to hurt her eyes, forcing her to wince at the sudden burst of artificial light. Despite the distress of the previous days, it was the walk between the room to the promising bed that finally shook her bones, the comfort of a mattress close enough to already enchant her eyes to a close and surrender to exhaustion.

Figures of proctors peeked from the doorframes around the hallway, smirks plastered in their faces like their success only meant a longer agony, whispers passed among them loud enough to reach their ears telling them that they had just until tomorrow morning to rest. A marvelous way to end this delightful part of the test. It was just as soon as she was able to caress the bed covers with her fingers that Chöji asked a grumpy looking man where the medical ward was and practically dragged her across the room -away from the bed!-, it was something that would have earned him at least a scold on her part, but he was taking her to be treated despite his own injuries, so she decided not to pursue that topic.

A medic entered the room soon after them, Ino precariously seating on the only unoccupied bed of the room, her sore side painfully throbbing. The woman told her 'yep these ribs are broken, that kid had a hell of a kick.' while Chöji looked at her apologetically from the corner of the room before being guided outside so she could strip and put a gown on for the doctor to treat her wounds, making her, finally, scream in pain. Between narrowed eyes and shallow breaths, she was able not only to hear the crack of her bones but also to notice the figure who looked suspiciously like Shikamaru peeking through the gap in the door and turning completely red with discomfort, quickly moving away.

In a particularly loud noise from her ribs she gritted her teeth with the question, "why am I not passing out?" while the woman's healing jutsu burned her skin, "it fucking hurts!"

"Language." The medic admonished her. "Women tend to have more pain endurance, mh? It wouldn't be nice to have mothers blacking out while giving birth, right?"

"What?" Her face contorted in a grimace at the sudden topic, and there was nothing she wanted more than to speak her truth and lash out to the person putting her through this pain.

"Bear it, you're a ninja are you not?" And with the question, a roll of eyes.

Despite her desire to do so, Ino did not faint, sweat dripping from her forehead to her jaw and finally reaching the floor, forming a tiny pool that in other circumstances will have mortified her. Compared to that, the treatment in her cheek was absolutely nothing to complain about, her sore side demanding her undivided attention. Once patched up, the doctor glanced at her from behind her long lashes and recommended her to rest for at least two weeks before returning to the field in order to make sure her ribs healed properly and smiled sweetly. Ino wanted nothing more than to rip that smile off of her face, she had only fifteen hours left to rest and the woman knew.

Once alone, Ino lay down on the bed and closed her eyes, but could not sleep.

His throat burned. He swallowed once, twice, sending more and more saliva down to relieve a little bit of the ache. He needed water almost desperately but was graceful enough not to ask for it nor complain about the need that the heat in the ambiance did nothing to soothe.

Around them, the bodies burned.

From a merely moral standpoint, Itachi completely deserved the discomfort, it was rather moronic thought to believe that the punishment for his lifetime of dirty deeds consisted in a throbbing throat, but he twisted the idea in his mind as to entertain himself while standing in front of the fire, waiting for it to consume. There was an acquaintance of him that believed in hell, he remembered, she often brought up the subject, simple punishments like this one being her favorite take on the topic, an eternal need not to be satisfied driving you completely mad. It was a subject humorous enough not to be completely irritating and one he could easily let by when finding comfort in between her legs. His face remained impassive at the remembrance of her predisposition. He breathed the scent around him, the distinct fragrance of flesh and smoke, stretching his hand in the air and watching the ashes pouring down on his palm.

And to think that this wasn't their mission yet. What an inconvenience.

Itachi couldn't help it, the corner of his mouth pulled upwards just slightly, it was a twisted smirk, almost a nervous twitch, to encounter a group of ninjas so high up north using the Tshigakure symbol was just a sick understanding of what humor is, Kamisama was in a good mood to toy with them it seemed. They disposed of them quickly enough, Itachi mused, watching Kisame furrowing his eyebrows and pinching his nose, Pein wouldn't have it otherwise, they had seen their clothes –and more importantly, recognized them and will link them to the organization-, and red cloud against black fabric wasn't precisely forgettable.

"Itachi…" It was almost a growl what escaped Kisame's mouth and forced Itachi to twist his head to look at him, successfully shattering his line of thought, the swordsman didn't acknowledge his gaze, his eyes focusing on the pile of bodies and the fire consuming it in front of them. "Don't judge me," he paused, perhaps expecting assurance on his part, Itachi made a point by not replying, "the smell," he added and hesitated again, the suspense stretching the thread of Itachi's patience.

For what it sounded like, Kisame seemed disgusted by the fragrance of scorched flesh and clothes, Itachi couldn't particularly judge this weakness. He cocked his head to the side and watched him turn, the light of the flames shone against his gray skin, the faint detail of his scales, almost indistinguishable on the daylight, became more perceptible when bathed in the orange light, the shadows made him look even more feral, almost monstrous.

"It kind of opened my appetite." The swordsman finished, his eyes moving from Itachi's face to the fire, his mouth sealed in a thin line, pink coloring his cheeks in such a weird display of shame and vulnerability that Itachi's emotionless façade almost cracks.

"Ah." Itachi almost shivers in distaste, his vocal cords straining with the force it took to move them in their thirst. He wondered what was the point Kisame was trying to make, did he expected Itachi to recoil in discomfort or see him as a bigger threat than he earlier let on by his sudden interest in human meat? Sure the man couldn't be that big of a fool to believe Itachi will fall for such childish tactics. The slight possibility of Kisame just confiding him with this shameful truth was just too moronic to be even considered, it had to be a tactic for something else, and Itachi was not going to bend for it. "I might not be much help," he cleared his throat and swallowed to lubricate, "maybe Zetsu will-"

"-don't you there compare me to that thing." Kisame interrupted him, his muscles tensing.

Itachi pursed his lips and made a spectacle of coking his head to the other side with a twist on his mouth and roll of his shoulders. So now they played the card of offense, hu? Kisame was a sight to consider, all pink as he was, Itachi was slightly impressed by his acting skills. Zetsu eats human meat as nourishment, he's not performing cannibalism per se because he's not a human being, at least that's how Itachi rationalized it, therefore, with Kisame looking not quite human himself, the idea of him eating one of the shinobi of the pile didn't seem much different from Itachi eating fish. It would be splendid, however, if Kisame allowed Itachi not to witness the act.

He was about to speak his thoughts on the matter as he deliberated when Kisame spoke again, "before you entertain that idea of me, I'm not that far away as to eat a person," Kisame's teeth were bared, a warning in his posture that whatever left Itachi's mouth will set him off, as it was, Itachi choose to blink and return his attention to the fire. In between the flames, a corpse seemed to be staring right at him. "What is this doing to me, Itachi?" Kisame's question didn't make Itachi flinch, "I've never -I would never -I…"

Kisame couldn't speak, something was eating his insides, Itachi couldn't gather the strength or care to help him out of his misery with a quick remark or an explanation, he bit with his molars and watched the face of the corpse burn, his skin turning black, the flames gulping him without mercy, his passage to the beyond with an eternal expression of pain. A wedding ring shone against the dead finger, reflecting the light.

"The fire is dying down," Itachi pursed his lips and bitted the inside of his cheeks until he could taste blood, swallowing it to comfort the still throbbing throat. "We need to go." He glanced up, looking beyond the ashes, beyond what used to be a pile of corpses, the embers slightly, faintly, illuminated the space. The few trees around were scorched.

"There's a ring," Kisame said and pointed at the ground, the golden ring Itachi saw earlier shone against the dusty remains of someone's beloved.

"I'll take care of it." He replied, and watched Kisame turn and perform his earth nature to bury the embers and ashes, wind jutsu would expand both some of the smoke and smell of their crime, and water will just increase the smoke, hence, earth was the better option. Still, they didn't have much time, the fire was not the best option when disposing of a body to keep their location and deed a secret, but it provided the most effectiveness. Itachi took the ring out of the ground and looked at it. No names. No markings. No date. Nothing that could give away anything about the owner and, more importantly, about the person that had an equal one. It wasn't a surprise, considering the profession of the person they just burned.

"Done," Kisame said from behind him.

"Go ahead, I'll destroy this and bury it somewhere."

"Right…" Kisame said and turned, "hurry up," he prompted and walked away, Itachi was graceful enough not to laugh at his face for trying to order him around.

He walked towards one of the most concealed trees that were just faintly damaged by the fire and gently placed the ring on one of its lower branches to set it on fire and destroy the evidence. It was dangerous to leave a trace behind, as little as it was, it might not be a body, but it was a proof of what their destiny had become when crossing paths with someone whom they shouldn't.

He looked around before completing the task, his eyes roaming the deserted space, it was obvious by the destruction that it engulfed a fight between two potent forces, and no competent shinobi could not notice the change in the dirt or scorched trees, was it that bad to leave the ring? It couldn't be traced back at him –and there was nothing one more body in his account could do to worsen his situation-, and on a deeper note, it probably couldn't be traced back to the original owner either, leaving it here will be more like a mockery, a silly game. He wasn't above those naughty feats, and there were so few things he could do to entertain himself. Itachi grabbed the ring, looked at it with the corner of his mouth upwards, and promptly set it on the branch again before leaving, deciding to play once more.

He believes that it can't get worse than this, which serves as some sort of consolation. Itachi stared at the side of the tent he was facing with a blank expression, the arm on which he rested his weight painfully asleep, the heat of Kisame's back against his own. The Kiri-nin snored but Itachi maintained his expression neutral, the feeling that someone might be watching them was as possible in his mind as nonexistent in reality, who would ever spy on two assassins like them? Who would ever be that stupid?

(But then again, the cemetery is full of stupid people).

He swallowed with a grunt. Uchiha Itachi, heir to the Uchiha clan; Uchiha Itachi, eldest brother; Uchiha Itachi, missing-nin. Uchiha Itachi, sleeping buddy.

See Kisame? I can be funny. He thinks.

He doesn't really believe it.

His throat burned with unspoken truths and incipient sickness, Itachi wasn't exactly sure which one of them was the actual problem when his brain decided to overload itself with remembrances. The only secure thing he had was the cough that awoke and he expelled through his mouth, moving his body against his will despite his tight control over it, forcing him to use his hand to muffle the sound. Kisame snored again, seemingly unfazed by his teammate's sickness, and Itachi almost, almost, turns around to cough on his face, just to see his reaction. Will he eat him then? Itachi allowed himself to smile in between coughing fits, he wasn't funny, no, he was honestly quite hilarious.

Once the coughing seemed to stop, he closed his eyes and breathed slowly, licking his lips in the look for trails of blood or saliva that might have been expelled, his lungs felt like they were filled with stones, and laying down didn't help with the sensation, but he was too exhausted to sit. It was probably the smoke that awoke the problem, the smoke and the ashes. It served him right for being so careless, the mighty fool, standing so close to a fire with his condition like a noob, wasn't it enough the thirst that he had to add the cough? He swallowed difficulty and cleared his throat for good measure.

"Oh for fucks-" Kisame sat up abruptly, his tunic falling off his shoulder, "you're driving me crazy with all this noise, fucking hell."

Itachi stared at him with narrowed eyes at his rudeness, "I apologize for the inconvenience, next time I'll try to keep my condition out of your hearing range," he replied sarcastically with a grimace. Winning a bark of laughter from the still sleep-deprived swordsman that quickly turned into a growl.

Kisame pinched his nose, forcefully closing his eyes and clenching his jaw, "you need to treat that," there was no sweetness in his words nor concern, it was the tone of someone exhausted of both him and his situation, Itachi's sickness was an inconvenience that needed to be deal with, it could jeopardize their missions not only by exposing their location but also preventing both of them from resting.

"You were snoring." Itachi retorted, already playing out the outcome.

"And?"

Itachi smirked, "you should treat that."

Kisame licked his front teeth threateningly and scrunched his nose with displeasure, he glanced at him and opened his mouth to say something, perhaps an explicit menace that will finally shatter the charade of their relationship, but he eventually closed it, saying nothing at all. At that, Itachi swallowed a new wave of coughing fits that threatened to go up his throat and felt like chewing on glass shards, he supposed it was no good to contradict Kisame's recommendation. It surprised him to some extent how the tent still smelled like plastic.

"I can't sleep anymore," Kisame both deadpanned and complained, "we might as well start whatever we're supposed to do today." Itachi moved until he was looking at Kisame's face, his figure was somewhat blurry, and he wondered if this was because of sleep deprivation or because his eyes were tired.

It wasn't the most dignified thing to reply, but Itachi allowed himself not to care about it while Kisame wasn't awake enough to understand his lapse, so "leave me alone," was out of his mouth before he was able to think twice about it.

Kisame just snorted, "I'll be outside." And then he left the tent without another word, he cleared his throat for good measure and could swear Kisame glanced at him with a scowl before stepping out of the tent. It was until he was alone that Itachi noticed how much heat Kisame's body produced, his departure made the air inside breathable.

What an undignified way to be found this was, Itachi knew it was far-fetched to believe someone will sneak upon them, but this situation was embarrassing enough just to think about, two highly-trained and dangerous ninja sleeping together in a tent, smelling of sweat, smoke and abandonment. It was laughable, but Itachi wasn't prone to laugh. He cleaned his face of the sweat with his calloused palm and cleared his throat.

When he stepped out of the tent, Kisame was seated close -but not close enough as to actually get warmth, of a small fire. His tiny, dark eyes shone with the flame light. It was near dawn Itachi realized, blinking more than once to make his eyes focus, the cold rising with the sun. "We have dried meat, not that it comes as a surprise," Kisame informed. He sat in front of the bonfire, across from his teammate, and felt the way the swordsman's tiny eyes followed his motions, shadows obscuring his features, making him look like a predator again.

Kisame threw the bag of dried meat over the fire with biting precision and Itachi caught it in the air, "is there any water?" He asked, caressing his throat and licking his lips, opening the bag and tossing a piece of dried meat in his mouth.

"Give it a minute," Kisame replied, and just then Itachi noticed the small metal pot resting on some embers in a pit near the fire. They both stared at the water inside the pot in silence, waiting for it to boil and, thus, be consumable. It was weird how comfortable they could pretend to be in their silence and how aware they were of each other, Itachi wouldn't doubt in cutting Kisame's throat if the guy even looked like he was thinking about hurting him. "Ah, there," Kisame smiled, "boiling."

"You need to let it boil for a couple of minutes…"

"Nah, it'll be fine," Kisame replied, and took the pot with his fingers, wincing at the hot metal. "Oh, fucking hell. I shouldn't have done that." He complained and set the pot in the ground.

No, you shouldn't have, Itachi thought without voicing, watching Kisame blow cold air at his fingers with his eyebrows furrowed. At last, Kisame stopped trying to ease the pain on his hand and took the pot once more, which was cold enough to hold, and smelled the water -nothing swampy over here, perfect for consumption!- and blew it, once, twice, until he drank a sip. His face contorted in a way that reminded Itachi of drunk people. "Kamisama, this is disgusting." He grunted.

"You said it didn't smell, and I quote, swampy."

"It's bitter." Kisame clicked his tongue like tasting the flavor, "and warm. There's no worse combination." He finished, passing him the pot.

"I could think of some," Itachi shrugged, and drank. It was worse than Kisame had described it, but it was good for his throat, so he kept drinking.

"Bet you could," Kisame licked his lips and trembled, "I miss alcohol." Itachi rolled his eyes and drank once more, his thirst subduing at last. "What? I'm a human being," Kisame smiled, "sort of, kind of, well I'm something. And this something misses alcohol."

Itachi replied by tossing the remaining water into the bonfire.

"Oh come on! Give a warning at least!" Kisame complained, coughing and kicking dirt in the smoldering fathoms.

"What's the point of doing it if I give you a heads up, first?"

"You know," Kisame bared his teeth, "to be such a stoic guy, you can be such a childish asshole."

"I'm loosening up."

"Loosen up in your free time, Uchiha." Kisame picked Samehada up -which he tossed when the smoke reached his eyes- and Itachi ignored the stupid brat barely murmured.

"I'll pack the tent." He said and moved towards it while Kisame kept blowing away the ashes off Samehada. It was not long after it that they began to move once more, they needed to cover as much ground as possible in the shortest period of time as to reach their destination soon enough to perform their mission.

"I don't like the Yonbi."

"You don't know the Yonbi."

"That doesn't mean I-" Kisame cocked his head to the side. "We are close," he said abruptly, kicking some dirt, "perhaps a day away, hmm," he thought for a while, "half a day if we really put effort on it, but I really don't want to put effort on it." Itachi kept his mouth shut and watched his partner move, he had noticed the change in his demeanor. "Fuckin' Iwa," Kisame complained, "they could stab you in the back without any remorse, and don't think the shinobi are above that but, they are... you know, fucking Iwagakure." He accommodated Samehada's belt and subtly sniffed the air. "Besides... they suck at ambushes." He deadpanned, taking his sword out.