FRAGRANCE | u. itachi

二 | It is not mercy, just pity

Itachi stopped in his tracks, letting Kisame's words linger in the air. He let out a sigh. "I am not a medic, let her be as she is."

Kisame let out another chuckle. "But hey, didn't you say, she's the sole survivor of the Kaori Clan that Leader-sama seeks? If she dies, Leader-sama will be in wrath. You sure, we should just leave her like this?"

Itachi glanced over at the frail girl that seemed more dead than alive. "You take care of her," he told Kisame.

Kisame shook his head rapidly. "You wanted me to bring her back to the inn, you take care of her."

He looked at her wretched state, and his face darkened. He was hired as a terrorist, not a babysitter to nurse someone back to health. "I do not know how," he told Kisame.

"I thought you had a little brother," Kisame remarked, crossing his arms. "You were known to be a pretty good nii-san too, isn't that right? - well, that was until you killed your clan of course." He chuckled at his own dark humour. "Just treat her like how you treated your little brother, easy."

Itachi grimaced at his partner's words. Kisame must have thought testing his patience was wise - not wrong, Itachi had always been a patient person. But bringing up his brother repeatedly was rather audacious.

He let out a sigh, as always, letting it slide as he averted his gaze back to the girl. The way she shivered and sniffled in pain brought a flush of nostalgia over him. He was suddenly reminded of his little brother, in those days when he was ill. It was a memory he sought to bury, and it must be due to Kisame's words that he became as muddled as to think this stranger held similarity to Sasuke.

But much to his discontentment, Kisame was right to a degree. If the last Fragrance were to die, the mission would be null. He didn't want to have conflict with Madara. Even though Itachi had never feared the man, he had agreed to do the Akatsuki's dirty chore in exchange for the help with the clan's massacre back then. Since it was Madara's order that he brought the Fragrance to the Akatsuki hideout alive, he had no choice but to make sure it succeeded.

Thinking it through logically, he walked over to where the Fragrance lay, crouched down before roughly pulling the blanket over her trembling form. She sniffled as she curled herself in a fetal position, snuggling her cheek against the blanket as if it were the only source of warmth.

He watched her briefly, feeling repulsed at how weak she looked. It never occurred to him that the Fragrance would be so frail. The Shinobi world might have tried to seek for the Fragrance for centuries, but not many have ever faced them before due to how secretive they hid. Thus, there could only be baseless rumours and assumptions on what they were like thrown around.

But now that he saw one, he was quite unsettled that they wouldn't be as strong in physique as revered.

He turned away from her, didn't want to ponder about it further. He would deliver her to Madara and Leader-sama, complete his mission, and then be on his merry way with this irrelevant Fragrance matter.

With that he stood to leave. But before he could take a step away, soft, but terribly cold fingers shot towards his hand, cradling onto it and trying to tug him back.

He froze still, his body growing rigid as he glanced down at her small hand on his.

Her eyes fluttered open as her soft fingers glided over his palm, caressing it. At first, his instinct told him to pull his hand away, but then he sensed a rush of profound Chakra ran up her body. Her eyes instantly widened in fear as she began to tremble beneath the blanket. Tears brimmed up in her eyes, and she squeezed his hand tightly before letting go.

She breathed heavily as she buried her face away from him. "How tragic," she murmured under her breath.

Itachi froze still, an unnerving feeling filled him at her word. "Tragic?" He questioned, keeping his voice calm and his expression soothed.

"Your life," she breathed, her voice cracking, as she lay back against the pillow. "I saw."

Itachi's gaze darkened and he pushed himself to stand, backing away from her. "She is the Fragrance," he said as he turned to Kisame.

Kisame nodded slowly. "You sure?"

Itachi uttered no reply as he glanced over at her. "Are you?" He asked, his words a tone of command.

The girl shifted slightly, groaning in pain. She briskly pulled the blanket over her head, shunning them off. "Just leave me be."

Kisame pressed his lips into a thin line. "Stop beating around the bush. Answer Itachi."

She let out a sharp breath. "What if I don't?"

Kisame flexed his muscles as he smirked. "Then I'll amputate you into pieces!" He growled.

She flinched slightly as she clutched onto the mattress, and buried her face into her pillow. "Do it then."

Kisame sneered. "Are you testing me, you little—"

"Enough," Itachi muttered, shutting Kisame up. "Let's leave her alone to rest. She will talk once she realises that death is not the hope she could cling to." With that, he said no more and turned for the door.

*

𝐹𝑅𝐴𝐺𝑅𝐴𝑁𝐶𝐸
うちはイタチ