A/N: So I am going to warn you, for the record, that I gave Deidara a bit of an American Southern lilt, because upon showing my friend who speaks Japanese his original dialogue and scrubbing through hours of episodes, I discovered he not only uses "oira" sometimes, he also just has old man tendencies mixed into his normal teenager speech. It was the only way I thought I could get those eccentricities across and I wanted to preserve them.

Danna might directly translate to husband but that honorific is an archaic way to address superior artisans he's calling Sasori "sir".

Itachi hadn't worn civilian clothes in four years. It felt a little odd if he was being honest. The hard-wearing wool of his jacket intentionally lacked any defining features and was dyed in darker earth tones. Even if Itachi usually struggled to hide in a crowd, the dull clothing went far in fooling all but the most observant. He didn't expect this contract to bring them in contact with anyone particularly observant.

He trailed his fingers in the water a little as they drifted past a massive block of steel and concrete. The newest warehouse of the Gatou Company was an eyesore in a land of neat, traditional buildings and tranquil mangroves.

It certainly could've used a renovation, even if it was Deidara's definition of it–blowing the whole thing up.

Itachi glanced back at Deidara. His visible blue eye squinted as he looked over the warehouse. If Itachi had to guess, Deidara was, unsurprisingly, having similar thoughts to him. He didn't know much about the younger shinobi–Deidara had made it abundantly clear they were not friends–but he'd gathered, from Deidara's manner, that he was raised by staunchly traditional parents, and some of that rubbed off on him. Not in values, perhaps, but certainly in aesthetic tastes.

Deidara nodded towards the building. "A few charges at the key structure points would bring the whole thing down," he whispers. "Places like that don't have load-bearin' walls. Ain't built to last, yeah?"

"It looks fucking awful," Hidan agreed from where he manned the boat's oar.

Itachi cast the third of their number the briefest glance. He knew little about Deidara, true, but he knew less about Hidan. For lack of trying, to be certain. There was little to like about Hidan from the outset. He was foul-mouthed, abrasive, and blunt to the point of rudeness. As if to make it all worse, he was also a religious zealot for a violent cult.

"I did not take you for one with traditional tastes," Itachi remarked flatly.

"Yeah well–" Hidan began, flushing. Slowly he adds, in a soft mutter, "I…grew up in a shinsha."

Now, Itachi was staring. Deidara was too but it felt like he'd been staring longer. A shinsha? Hidan was a zealot, sure, but his cult was new enough that it hadn't left Yugakure; he hadn't been raised in it. In any case, he struggled to see Hidan being reverent or respectful of a sacred place like a shinsha. If anything, Itachi had never really been able to imagine Hidan with particularly attentive parents.

"I really just assumed someone left you on the side of the road," Deidara said after a moment, putting Itachi's thoughts into much harsher words.

Hidan looked less than amused. He jammed the rudder in place and leaned on it.

"Yeah? And where do you get off having such strong opinions on this shit?" he asked. "Clearly both of you agree, right?"

"Well Itachi is an Uchiha," Deidara noted, pointing to Itachi. "As for me, what can I say? I'm somethin' of an old soul, yeah?"

"Uh-huh, sure," Hidan rolled his eyes. "An old soul knows how to blow up a warehouse–Itachi, hands."

Mindful of the rather sudden warning, Itachi pulled his hand from the water. Seconds later, a small black-finned shark rushed past. Deidara leaned over the side of the boat to stare, then let out a snort.

"Kisame," he said, as if a little relieved. Hidan, too, let out a sigh.

"I saw it and thought it was gonna take off your fingers," he admitted. "I forgot he can do that. Fucker."

"That confirms they're tailing us," Itachi noted softly.

"Kisame is," Hidan agreed. "You think Kakuzu is? That asshole wouldn't expend the effort."

"I'm pretty sure the old man would still come after you if somethin' happened," Deidara offered. "Sasori'd just scoff and expect me to figure it out on my own."

Itachi sat forward as the shark darted back by their boat. Kakuzu and Sasori were Hidan and Deidara's usual partners, respectively. Itachi had worked with both for enough time that he'd figured out how much of them was real, and how much was a front like his own.

Kakuzu could be miserly and short-tempered, especially when working, but he was more patient than he let on, more caring. Often, Itachi found Kakuzu's annoyed grumblings were his way of expressing concern, of pressing younger members towards caution, or at least patience.

Sasori…Itachi struggled to parse the man, even after all these years. On some level, his stoicism was genuine. He seemed to have more faith in Deidara than Kakuzu had in Hidan and expected more from him. At the same time, Deidara seemed so eager to impress him, willing to follow his lead and bend to his suggestions.

Itachi had noticed them both the night before, talking quietly between themselves over a bottle of cheap sake. He hadn't realized the two were cordial…

"You don't usually worry this much over a job."

"This Kaiza, he's what I'm worried about, not the boys."

Kakuzu had paused there, and Itachi had peered into the gap in the door to see him lifting a full ochoko to his lips and downing it in one swig. He had winced as it went down, and Sasori had smirked.

"I told you the cheap stuff is rancid. What about him worries you? He's not a warrior."

"It's his convictions. Reminds me of Tenzen, maybe a bit of Nezha, Ajisai…Fugaku."

Itachi had stiffened at the final name. That had to be Uchiha Fugaku. Had Kakuzu met Itachi's father?

"He's stubborn," Sasori had guessed.

"Unyielding. Unwilling to compromise his morals, even if it costs him his life. I tried to warn him."

"It's hard to sway people when their mind is made up."

"It's going to cost him his life."

"Are you worried it will cost them theirs?"

Kakuzu had paused to take another swig of sake but didn't answer. Instead, Sasori continued.

"Our orders are to stay in case something goes wrong. Do you have a plan, if something does?"

"Not yet."

"There it is."

Hidan's voice snapped Itachi out of his thoughts, and he looked up at him. Hidan nodded ahead, to the treeline. Looking closer, a cabin slowly came into view between the trees, its door leading down to a small dock.

"We're here."

A/N: By the way for anyone wondering a shinsha is the archaic term for a shinto shrine. Priests tend to live on the grounds with their families in Shintoism.