The two Akatsuki members crouched in the trees overlooking a small town. Kisame leaned back against the base of his branch, staring boredly at nothing in particular while Itachi surveyed the scene with his Sharingan. After a couple minutes he nodded.

“He’s there.”

The chill in Itachi’s voice, Kisame noticed, wasn’t as cruel as usual but more…distant. Damn, this was getting too complicated. Kisame had known Itachi wasn’t exactly the simplest guy, but he’d never thought he’d have to go through discerning the small variations in his vocal patterns. He let out a silent groan, which didn’t go unnoticed.

“What?” Itachi whipped his head around so fast his ponytail smacked him in the face, though he paid it no heed. His eyes were narrowed and his blood red irises flashed dangerously. His already thin lips were drawn so tight they were practically nonexistent, and his delicate eyebrows almost met in a deep V. Obviously, he was in a pretty bad mood.

Kisame debated his answer for a moment. On one hand, he could just tell Itachi the truth, that his strange behavior and odd air of helplessness (well…when the Sharingan was deactivated) was causing him to worry. Or, he could just forfeit his pride and say he was tired, but also not risk his life.

When Itachi activated the Mangekyo, he decided on the second option.

“Ne……..Itachi? When are we gonna stop, huh?” he asked, trying to
sound as un-whiny as possible. Itachi’s frown deepened despite his efforts.
“Tired already? Are you really so weak, Kisame?”

Kisame’s jaw dropped for a moment, before letting out a low growl. Safety be damned, NO ONE questioned his strength. Forgetting the peace keeping attitude he’d had previously, he viciously retorted.

“Well, maybe I WOULDN’T be so tired if I hadn’t had to drag your heavy ass around by the hand all day. Pull your own weight instead of acting so useless, and I won’t get tired!”

Itachi flinched slightly and Kisame could have sworn he saw a flicker of hurt pass over the face of his stoic partner before he leapt down from his perch. He began walking, his raven hair swishing to and fro as he went, not even glancing behind at his partner still in the tree.

“Fine.”

Kisame had never wanted to punch himself in the face more in his life.