18) trades of trust

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Of course, they mentioned nothing. Just like last time.

But not quite. Itachi was not antagonistic like before. Though he was far from cordial, he was, at the least, patient, which Miho was grateful for. She felt pathetically weak, but there was nothing she could do to make her condition better. The injuries she suffered from were not ones she could heal; they could only improve with constant rest and relaxation, but clearly, she was not given that luxury. Itachi, with his own perpetual disease, at least seemed to understand Miho's predicament, and therefore waited for her when she needed to stop and rest. That was the extent of his kindness though; he never picked her up, offered to carry her, or gave her his cloak again. She was glad—such actions would only make her more confused than she already was.

"What are your orders?" said Miho one night as they rested in a cave, a fire crackling warmly in front of them.

"Concerning what?" said Itachi.

"The mission. And why exactly I am coming with you."

"Did Kisame-san not brief you?"

"He told me that we were supposed to re-establish relations with someone in Kirigakure. And that a couple was less conspicuous than a solo traveler. I do not see the purpose of me, though, when you yourself are more than proficient in a covert mission."

Itachi did not reply immediately; he seemed to take his time processing what Miho was saying. When he replied, he was vague.

"You do not need to know the details until we arrive."

"Fine," said Miho irritably, "but it doesn't make any sense. If this were an imperative mission, then you should just go alone without waiting for me every half-day to recover. Surely your orders aren't to ensure that I survive, are they?"

"You will see," he said simply.

She could get nothing out of him after that.

They arrived at the outskirts of Kirigakure on the ninth night of their departure. Itachi glanced over at Miho, who looked utterly exhausted and disheveled. He'd initially wanted to wait until the next day to enter the village, but Miho would do well with an actual shelter and a hot bath; they would risk the additional suspicions laid on visitors who arrived past nightfall.

"It would be appropriate to change your appearance," said Itachi. "It is not necessary to have it be a drastic transformation, but…"

He fell silent, for Miho was already transformed, as if she changed into various personas often. She turned to him, her now unearthly beautiful face clean of grime and dirt that had accumulated over the last few days of travel.

"Will this do?" she said, and even her voice was slightly higher than it normally was.

He half-wanted to say that she was too beautiful, that it would attract too much attention, but then he remembered that the politician they were going to contact, Houzuki Rai, was a pathetic excuse for a man who was irresistibly attracted to other men's wives. Itachi did not mention this passing detail to Miho.

"It will," he said, closing his eyes briefly as chakra veiled his face as well. He turned to Miho with his new face—a higher nose bridge, slightly smaller eyes and a larger forehead. "Straighten out your clothes."

"And your cloak?"

He folded it up and tucked into a bag.

"Let us go."

They stepped down the mountain pathway leading into the village shrouded in mist.

"So who is the contact, exactly?" asked Miho.

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