Chapter Text
Kisame is not particularly fond of humans, but existence can be tedious when you just sit by and let it happen. Itachi’s existence is too young for sins or grievances, and the opportunities he holds seem to stretch from him until the end of the ocean, looking sweet and fresh and full of promise and grains of time.
But Itachi’s soul is somehow crooked, somehow not quite right. Kisame thinks it’s probably him who did it, unloading Itachi on a vessel to cross a plain it was not prepared for. Letting him embark in a journey and throwing out his shoes when Itachi wasn’t looking.
Kisame only minds to keep most of it intact; their connection binds them now and Itachi doesn’t make for a bad company, compared to Kisame’s previous meals.
As time goes on and on like time does, the threads bind them both tightly and sink into Kisame with every step, and he knows that Itachi and himself can never be like anything either of them planned to be.
Kisame’s steps grow longer and longer and Itachi is always by his side, and the road stretches wider and brighter for them, right until the end, and a bit after that.