Lingering
“Itachi-kun, you okay? You don’t look well-”
Izumi frowns, putting the back of her hand against Itachi’s cheek.
“I’m fine-”
“Are you sure? You’re running a fever-”
“I promise- I’m just tired, that’s all.”
Izumi doesn't believe it. Of course she wouldn’t- Itachi hasn’t slept going on three days now, fueled by a manic energy he hasn’t been able to turn off. Pouring through old notes and books he’s taken from the restricted area of the library, filing everything away with his Sharingan for when he needs it later.
He supposes it’s finally starting to show. Heaven knows it’s starting to catch up with him.
“Do you need to sit down? You’re really pale.”
“I’m alright.”
Izumi means well, he knows that. But it raises his hackles a bit, makes him feel patronized to have her fussing over him like she’s his mother. He hates being treated like he’s made of spun glass. Hates being fussed over.
More than that, though, he feels guilty for prompting such a worried expression on her pretty face.
Instead of looking at it, he keeps his gaze up at the fluffy white clouds drifting through the sky.
(she doesn’t deserve him snapping at her over something so stupid.)
“...hey,” Izumi mumbles, deciding to do him a favor and let the subject go, “after I’m done with school, maybe do you wanna get some dango or something?”
“I’m gonna be busy til late,” Itachi answers, “sorry.”
“Aww, okay.”
He accompanies her to the school gates, glancing up at the window of what he knows is Sasuke’s classroom before continuing on his own way.
(Sasuke left for school early today. Something about wanting to get extra practice in before an exam this afternoon.)
He stops for a coffee on his way, hoping the caffeine will animate him enough to get through the day without embarrassing himself. Even with extra cream and sugar though, the bitterness burns his tongue and he finds himself having to choke it down, but it does perk him up a bit.
A handful of crows watch him as he walks by the park, ruffling their feathers and cawing at him expectantly.
“I didn’t even get breakfast for myself. What makes you think I got food for you guys?” he asks, as if they could understand him.
Maybe they do, considering they look annoyed at not getting an easy meal. Itachi shakes his head, walking past them without heeding their caws of protest.
He’s got a scouting mission he needs to get done- if he plays his cards right, he should be home before midnight. Then of course, after that he’s going to start on his other, more important assignment.
Naruto.
He knows what he’s been told to do. What Sandaime-sama commanded him, when he’d caught wind of Akatsuki’s intentions.
“You know we can’t allow him to fall into the wrong hands, Itachi. Since we know Akatsuki wants him, we need someone to keep watch over him- and you’re the only one I trust to do it.”
(not that Itachi has much respect for Sandaime-sama’s trust, anymore.)
The boy hangs around Ichiraku a lot. Maybe he should stop by for a bowl sometime, and try to talk to him (as daunting as the thought sounds). Or try to talk to him on his way out of school. He’d already be there to pick up Sasuke, so he has an easy excuse…
“You’re the only one I trust to do it.”
Trust or not, however, Itachi knows what he has to do as he steps into the Anbu office.
Besides that, Kushina’s son deserves far better than he’s getting right now.
Danzo hasn’t yet been told that he’s the one placed in charge of this task. But Itachi is ok with that; the less he can get away with telling that man, the better.
“-whoop-”
“Ow-”
Itachi must’ve been too far in his own head; he accidentally runs headlong into another Anbu member.
“-Kakashi-senpai- I’m sorry, I-”
Kakashi just laughs at him, straightening him back up; even under his cloth mask, Itachi knows he’s smiling.
“Somethin’ on your mind, kid?”
“Huh?”
“You’re normally a bit more careful than that. What’s up?”
“I uh-”
Itachi feels his face heat up; he pulls at the back of his neck and grimaces.
“I uh, just have a lot going on. I’m sorry.”
The man cocks his head at him, puzzled.
“Need to talk about it? I’ve got time before I have to head out.”
Itachi shakes his head. He cranes his neck to look over the man’s shoulder, spotting the locker room at the far end of the main lobby.
“I’m fine, really. I need to get going- have a good mission.”
Itachi brushes past him, hoping to avoid any more awkward contact, but-
“I’ll go with ya- I gotta grab my stuff before I head out.”
Kakashi is doing that annoying thing he often does. Being almost annoyingly friendly, trying to mask his concern. Izumi does the same thing, trying to be chipper even though they know something’s amiss.
Unlike Izumi though, he’s not as quick to let the matter drop when Itachi clams up.
“You allowed to tell me where you’re going? Didn’t they just have you out here yesterday?”
“Does it matter?” Itachi mumbles, hoping he doesn’t come across as too short.
Kakashi cranes his neck to look at him over his shoulder as he opens his locker to retrieve his gear. Itachi fetches his as well, keeping his eyes fixed firmly ahead.
“You just look tired, is all. You sure you’re feeling alright?”
“I feel fine, thank you. And I’m afraid I can’t share where I’m going.”
“Eh, I figured. You’ve been palling around with Danzo-sama a lot lately, so it must be something super secret, right?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘palling around’,” Itachi answers, strapping his gear on. “But yes, it is secret. Thank you for understanding.”
He can’t quite keep the sarcasm out of the last sentence. Kakashi takes it in stride, though, laughing just a bit.
“Cool, cool.”
He shuts his locker, strolling on over to Itachi's locker, eyeballing the small photograph of Itachi and Sasuke taped to the inside of the boy’s locker door.
“...Hey.”
Itachi peers at Kakashi out of the corner of his eye.
“You should take some time off when you get back. I’m sure your kid brother would like to have some extra time to spend with you, and I’d say you’ve earned it. When was the last time you even had a day off?”
The boy offers up a small smile.
“Thank you, but that’s not really possible right now.”
“Meh. If you’re sure- you really should do it sometime though.”
“Hm.”
Itachi slams his locker door shut and pointedly turns away to leave.
“Have a good mission,” he says again, as he departs.
Jiraiya still hasn’t given up on finding him again. Orochimaru might be touched, if he weren’t still bitter.
(If he weren’t still so angry.)
He’d be far better served looking for Tsunade, considering the state she’s gotten into. She’s the one who needs finding. The one who needs saving.
Orochimaru is all too aware that Sarutobi has told everyone who’d listen how he’s a lost cause. Hopeless. Fallen. Ruined. Jiraiya had to have heard it. Hell knows Tsunade had.
So why look for him?
(his hands are shaking; it’s tricky for him to guide the needle he’s using to mend a hole in his cloak.)
Just the thought of it brings back painful memories Orochimaru thought he’d finally managed to repress. Painful emotions he’s shoved down for all these years bubble up in his throat, no matter how hard he tries to swallow them down.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Sasori isn’t truly concerned, of course. His question is more out of curiosity. Orochimaru runs a hand through the fringe of his hair and grumbles.
“Was it something Kabuto said? You could’ve told him off, you know.”
“It’s nothing he did,” Orochimaru snaps at him, leaning against the ice cold stone wall of their remote little Akatsuki outpost.
“What then?”
“It isn’t any of your business.”
“If it’s gonna make you grouchy for the rest of the day then it’s my business.”
He turns his eyes back toward the puppet he’s repairing, but his posture makes it clear he’s not ready to let the matter go.
“...Must be about that old teammate, then? He’d said he’s still after you, right?”
Stubborn silence.
“If it bothers you so much, couldn’t you just kill him?”
Orochimaru snarls, giving off enough of an ominous aura that Sasori falls silent.
“You’d do well not to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“You’re no fun.”
Orochimaru doesn’t answer, keeping his eyes fixed on his mending.
Finally, finally, Sasori lets it fucking drop.
There’s some blessed silence for once.
(Sasori tends to ramble.)
Ten stitches in the cloak. Another fifteen should close this gash.
“Can’t you do it any faster? I’m freezing!”
“If you weren’t so careless I wouldn’t be sewing up your damn jacket right now!”
Orochimaru might smile at the memory. Of Jiraiya, pink-faced and shivering from cold. Of Tsunade laughing at him while she treats his wounds, telling him to stop being such a baby.
He could smile. But he doesn’t.
There’s a yawning void in his heart he prefers to ignore. Lingering on used-to-be and could-have-been hurts too much.
"-We're meeting up with the new guys later right?" Sasori asks off-handedly. "Those Kiri guys?"
"Juzo and Kisame," Orochimaru reminds him. "It won't make a good first impression if you've forgotten their names already."
He finishes off the last stitch, tying it off and lifting up the cloak to make sure the mend will hold.
"We'll be meeting them on Taro island. I hope you don't mind a quick boat trip."
It's Sasori's turn to not answer.