“Have you ever heard of a weighted blanket?”
Kisame glanced at Itachi, who was keeping pace next to him, eyes forward as always. “Is it a blanket with weights?”
“Yes. It’s for comfort.”
Sometimes Itachi just said things like this. Kisame had a theory that he had a limit for the amount of silence he could keep and just had to say something when it timed out. “How heavy are we talking, do you want one?”
“Impractically heavy,” he almost sighed, answering both questions.
***
Later that night camp was made and dinner was had, and Itachi removed his cloak to fold up for a pillow to keep dirt out of his hair. “Come here,” he said, holding his hand out to his partner.
Timer’s run out, Kisame thought. He crawled over to sit next to Itachi. “Yeees?”
Itachi set his cloak down and lay down. He held his hands out to Kisame again. “Can you lay on top of me?”
Kisame held his breath, trying to find his words. He picked up one hand and pushed Itachi’s wrist back toward his body. “Itachi, I am three times your weight if not more. I will crush you if I lay on you.”
“No you won’t. Lay on me.” He pushed back against Kisame’s hand and grabbed two of his fingers. He looked as if he wanted to say more.
Kisame sighed and scooted closer. “Okay, how do I do this? Also how in the hell are we supposed to take shifts like this? We’ve got to think a little bit about this, ‘Tachi—“
“I have thought, there’s nobody around for miles and if there was Samehada could take care of them.”
“Do you think Samehada can see through genjutsu? With the eyes they don’t have?”
“I’ll cast genjutsu then—"
“You can’t have that going all night—"
“A seal then,” he finally let go of Kisame’s hand and sits up. The seal is black and the ground is black do the only indication he is doing anything is the slight whisper of his hands and the new tang of chakra in the air. “There. We’re safe.”
Kisame reached to grab one of Itachi’s hands. “What has gotten into you?”
And red eyes whirred into sight, illuminating an angry face that suddenly seemed far too young for the deep grooves running down it. “I’m tired, Kisame. I am tired.” I want to rest, his eyes said. I want to go home.
Kisame stared into those deadly eyes and pushed Itachi’s chest lightly, inviting him to lay back down. He complied, and as soon as he was horizontal he covered his eyes and rubbed them, making struggling, angry noises.
“Hey! Hey buddy, what’s going on?” He lit up his hand with green healing chakra and held it up to Itachi’s face, trying to gather some idea of what he was going through.
The energy permeated through Itachi’s clenched hands and through his head, and Itachi seemed to calm down. Kisame brought his other hand up to hold his partner’s head against his makeshift pillow and he marveled at how it fit almost perfectly in his hand. Itachi seemed so fragile, so much like a doll that could be picked up and dashed against a hard surface to shatter into thousands of pieces. Fragile but lethal in strength and will. Kisame would guard his vessel and his soul would kill from a distance.
“Turn off your eyes, ‘Tachi.” The tomoe twirled and the red faded to black, leaving the green chakra as the only light. His eyes floated closed, then opened again, as if he was deciding which was more comfortable. “Are you feeling better?”
Itachi nodded. “The ANBU taught this seal to repress our emotions, and I’ve had it active for a long time now and it just broke earlier today. It feels like broken glass in there. Thank you, you made it feel better.” He held the hand against the side of his head, curling his fingers around it and sighing, before pulling the hand away from him and placing both his hands against the inviting glow. Kisame raised his eyebrows at the development, but willed whatever hurt Itachi to heal.
After some time Itachi returned the hand back to his head and formed a series of hand signs Kisame couldn’t see as he faithfully cradled the younger boy’s broken mind. His eyes closed in concentration and it almost seemed to hurt him, but of course it did, he was reforming broken glass; that’s dangerous work. Another shuddering breath and he touched the back of Kisame’s hand with two finger tips. “Thank you. I fixed it.”
So young and he had seen enough for several lifetimes with those eyes. Kisame stroked his hair as the world faded back to black. “Do you still want me to lay on you?”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
KIsame carefully set Itachi’s head back on the cloak and rested his hands on either side. He laid himself down, head on one side of Itachi’s chest, one hand under his shoulder and the other slung over his body, legs slowly lowering until they stuck out far past Itachi’s. “Good?”
He breathed for a moment before answering. “Yes.” Arms snaked around Kisame’s ribcage and clamped around him lightly and both were thankful for the comfortable warmth of the night.