In keeping with my bad habit of starting new fics when I already have a bunch of others to work on, here's my first stab at an AU!

DISCLAIMER: Naruto is not my intellectual property. The characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto. Please support the official release. Got it? Cool.

This fanfiction is a collaboration between myself and The Secret Sal. Everybody go read his stuff please :D

Kisame drums his fingers against the arm of the leather couch, waiting to get his next job. He glances idly around the room, taking vague note of the clearly expensive decorations. Everything from the elaborate paintings to the gold filigree on the wallpaper let him know what this was the home of a wealthy man.

Of course- only wealthy men can afford Kisame's service, so that much is obvious.

The door to the parlor opens, and his new employer walks in.

Streaks of gray run through stubbornly dark hair, signs of age marring an otherwise quite handsome face. He observes Kisame with hawkish black eyes.

Uchiha Madara is very well known- a decorated military veteran, international martial arts champion-

The hell does he need with a bodyguard?

The man takes a seat in the overstuffed armchair across from Kisame, inky black eyes still glued on him.

"Good of you to come," he says, his tone brusque and businesslike. "I'm sure I don't need an introduction."

Arrogant bastard, isn't he?

"I think you'd be hard pressed to find someone who didn't know who you are." Kisame agrees, with a nod.

"Good- then we'll get straight down to business."

Madara fishes around in the pocket of his suit coat and pulls out a battered photograph. He hands it off to Kisame and continues on talking.

"That's my grandson, Itachi. Cute, isn't he?"

'Cute' might not be the right word here.

The boy in the picture is skinny. Very skinny. His black hair is pulled back into a neat ponytail, matching eyes peering nervously out from behind a pair of thick glasses. He's dressed in plain, dark clothing and his face is blank, like the idea of smiling was frightening to him.

"After University, he let us know he'd been asked to join a band, and that he'd told them he would. They're having their first big concert in a few days."

Kisame isn't quite paying attention, but nods along anyway.

"They're called Akatsuki- maybe you've heard of them?"

"I can't say that I have," Kisame admits. He glances back at the photograph. He hardly fits the image of an up-and-coming rock star.

"They're actually quite good. I'm pretty proud of Itachi. He's got quite a voice, it turns out. Like Izuna did."

A faint smile crosses the old man's face. He leans his head in his hand like he's reminiscing in his mind. It takes him a few moments to get back on topic.

"What I want is for you to look after him. Make sure he stays out of trouble, you know?"

"Is he the type to get into trouble?" Kisame asks incredulously, eyeing the scrawny boy in the photograph.

"It's more that trouble seems to find him."

Madara's lined face grows stern.

"There was an incident a few years back," he explains, "Where Itachi was abducted."

"By who?"

Madara scowls like asking the question was rude.

"That's not important. What matters is he got himself injured trying to get away. When you'll meet him you'll notice he doesn't use his left arm much- it was pretty badly mangled."

The man's stony face grows even more grim.

"I don't want that to happen to him again. And neither do his parents. So that's why I'm offering you this job. Keep him safe while he's out on the road. Make sure he gets back to his hotel every night and make sure he's okay. If you think you can handle that, I can promise you a generous paycheck."

Kisame mulls the offer over.

Look after some spoiled rich kid while he goes around with his friends singing dumb music? Sounds easy enough.

"Sounds good to me."

"Good, good. I've got the contract ready for you to sign, and you can be on your way."

They pass the necessary paperwork back and forth, scratching pens filling the silence for a few minutes.

Madara packs everything neatly into his briefcase, and Kisame stands up to leave.

"Hoshigaki."

Kisame pauses, hand hovering over the door.

"My grandson is very important to me. If he's hurt on your watch-"

Madara stands as well, turning to face Kisame with the friendliest smile imaginable.

"-I'll kill you. Understand?"

A shiver runs through Kisame. That light, almost cheerful tone does nothing to mask the fact that Madara is dead serious.

"Yeah, I got it." Kisame replies, then leaves before the old man can notice him getting nervous.

Kisame arrives at the address Madara gave him- some ritzy hotel in the heart of the city. He gets out of the cab and heads for the lobby, nearly rolling his eyes when the receptionist flinches at the sight of him.

"Hoshigaki Kisame. I'm supposed to be meeting up with Uchiha Itachi here?"

The receptionist's mouth opens in a little O of surprise. She glances at her computer screen, then back at the man in front of her.

"Y-yeah. Room eighty-four B. eighth floor, right hand side."

Kisame nods and heads toward the elevator.

On the ride up, he imagines what this kid might be like. From the picture, he looked like some skittish little thing; a wimp, really. But from what he'd been told (assuming it was true), the brat was ballsy enough to escape his own kidnapping.

Seems like he's in for a surprise.

He follows the receptionist's directions and knocks on the door with 84 emblazoned on it in gold.

His knock in answered by pale, muscular man in a wifebeater and torn-up jeans. Violet eyes regard Kisame for a moment, looking him up and down like he were a circus sideshow.

"You the guy the old man sent over?"

"Yeah." Kisame answers.

The silver-haired man turns over his shoulder.

"Yo, Itachi! The fucker your grandpa sent ya is here!" He yells.

He jerks his head to motion Kisame inside. He obeys the gesture, stepping over scattered notebooks and assorted musical equipment on his way in.

"Do you have to be so loud, Hidan?"

And there he is.

Itachi is wearing a plain gray tee shirt and black pants that seemed painted onto his skinny legs. His thick glasses make his dark eyes seem enormous. But Kisame doesn't notice any of that- he's too distracted by the boy's arm.

Several jagged, ugly scars work their way across the pale skin, one peeking out from the collar of his shirt. The arm itself rests at an awkward angle that seems painful.

The boy clears his throat to draw his attention back, and Kisame almost feels embarrassed for staring.

"You're Kisame-san, right?" He asks, his tone carefully polite. "My grandfather told me you were coming."

"Yeah, that's right. It's nice to meet you, Itachi-san." Kisame offers a smile that's more teeth than anything.

Itachi gives a half-nod.

"I just made coffee- you can have some if you'd like."

Itachi gets himself a mug from the kitchenette and fixes himself a cup with an unholy amount of sugar and cream. Hidan flops onto the enormous sofa and marvels at the view outside the huge window.

"Holy hell, 'Tachi- how the hell'd that old fuck score us a room like this?!"

Itachi goes a bit red in the face, but hides it in his mug.

"It's 'cause his family's loaded, moron! You can get whatever you want when you're rich hn!"

Seemingly out of nowhere, a blond boy pretty enough to be a girl emerges, wearing nothing but a hotel bathrobe. He wraps his arms around Itachi and pulls him into a surprise hug, nearly making him spill his drink.

"But pretty soon we'll all be rich so we won't need the old man to help us out hn!"

He relinquishes Itachi and makes his own mug of coffee. Kisame makes himself comfortable at a chair and watches without saying anything.

Deidara and Hidan start chattering about nothing in particular, while Itachi quietly nurses his coffee. Every minute or so, his left arm falls back to his side, like keeping it up was a Herculean effort.

After a few minutes of this, they're joined by a beautiful woman with dyed-blue hair and a man with brilliant red hair and too many piercings to count. They sit around drinking coffee and talking about their upcoming concert in excited tones. It's actually kinda cute. It brings back memories from when Kisame was younger…

"Imma hit the gym before we have to talk to Kakuzu!" Hidan declares. "See ya fuckers later!"

A few minutes after he leaves, the rest scatter, leaving Kisame alone with Itachi. Itachi has pulled out a book and seems to be pretending that Kisame is a piece of furniture.

"Something tells me you're not too happy to see me, Itachi-san."

Itachi's mouth pulls downward in a simulacrum of a frown.

"My grandfather offered his financial support if I agreed to this one condition," he says flatly, not even looking up from his book.

"And you just went along with it without a fuss?"

"It's a fair trade. And if it puts his mind at ease, I can live with it."

Kisame decides he'd like some coffee after all, and walks past the boy to get it, keeping watch on him out of the corner of his eye.

Whether Itachi is annoyed and too polite to show it, or apathetic to the point of being obnoxious, it's hard to tell. His demeanor is so blank it's hard to read any emotion at all.

"So- you're the vocalist or what?" Kisame asks, determined to get some sort of conversation going.

A nod.

Damn it.

"Your grandpa didn't tell me how old you are. Mind filling me in?"

"Seventeen."

What. Didn't the old man say something about him graduating University?!

So, he's a nerd on top of everything else, huh? Shoulda seen that coming.

Before he can ask some other question, the laptop on the coffee table beeps. A sudden burst of energy animates Itachi, and he leaps to click on the little bubble in the bottom right corner, practically crashing onto the floor when he did.

A window opens up, and a boy who looks like an even younger Itachi comes onto the screen, impatience evident in his expression. Itachi's eyes light up with life.

"Hey, Sasuke."

"You said you'd call me when you got to the hotel, Niisan!" The younger boy pouts. "You have no idea how worried I was!"

Itachi shakes his head.

"It slipped my mind, Sasuke. I'm sorry."

Sasuke scowls, not entirely satisfied with that answer.

"Mom told me you're doing really well in school," Itachi says, to redirect the conversation. "I'm proud of you."

"Not as well as you did, Niisan," Sasuke whines.

"It's not a competition," Itachi chides, although he laughs a bit when he says it. "How's everything?"

Sasuke scowls again.

Keep making that face and it'll get stuck that way, Kisame thinks to himself.

"Our homeroom teacher is late every day. It gets old."

"That sounds like Kakashi. He was late to University every day, too." the edges of Itachi's mouth turn up slightly. "How about Naruto? Are you two still not speaking to each other?"

Sasuke goes pink in the face.

"No. He finally got over himself and apologized." Sasuke has an arrogant tone of voice that would make his grandfather jealous.

"What about Sakura?" Itachi gives him a knowing glance, making Kisame a bit curious as to what was behind the question mark.

"Annoying. She never leaves me alone, even when I tell her to." Ah. That kid's a brat, too.

"Glad to see nothing's changed." Itachi takes a sip of his coffee.

"What about you, Niisan? When are you coming home?!"

Itachi blinks.

"We have this concert and one in Kumo, so it's gonna be a little while."

"So you're going to be gone forever?" The kid's voice is tinged with sadness as the words leave his mouth.

"Don't speak like a child Sasuke."

"But Niisan-!" Sasuke ignores Itachi's admonishment by whining rather childishly.

Kisame looks around the room trying not to stare at the boy for too long.

"Sasuke I'll be home before you know it. Or do you not like staying with Ojiisan alone?"

"He's annoying. He's always watching some martial arts show on TV and telling me how he'd kick their ass in two seconds. 'Men these days are weak, nothing like me and my rival Hashirama.'" Sasuke does his best impression of his grandfather and rolls his eyes.

"Somehow I'm sure you'll manage." A sly smile creeps onto Itachi's face.

The doorbell rings from Sasuke's end. "I have to go- it's Naruto. He's been begging to come over so Ojiisan could teach him a couple of moves."

"And Ojiisan agreed to that?"

"The old fart would jump at the chance to teach anyone martial arts." Sasuke sighs in exhasperation.

"Well good luck with everything."

"Stay safe." Sasuke's tone becomes troubled, and he reaches out like he wishes to touch his older brother through the camera. "Hurry up and come home already."

"Love you too, Sasuke." Itachi waves goodbye and his brother ends the call. He stares into his empty mug like he wants to drown in the dregs.

"So that was your brother?" Kisame knows the answer to his own question, but the silence is killing him.

"Mother." Itachi snips, sarcasm dripping heavily from his voice.

"He seems like a nice kid," Kisame says, with some fresh sarcasm of his own.

"You don't know him," Itachi replies curtly.

"So what types of stuff did you do before you wanted to become a rockstar?" Kisame asks nonchalantly. He might as well get to learn something about his client.

"Homework, mostly." He's quick and short with his words. His glasses ride up onto his head when he reaches up to massage his eyes. "Please make yourself useful and get me the pill bottle out of the bathroom."

Bossy brat.

Kisame doesn't voice this thought aloud, and goes to get the bottle the boy asked for. Out of curiosity, he reads the label.

Tramadol HCl, 100 mg. One tablet two to four times a day as needed for pain

Christ, that's some seriously strong stuff.

He brings the medicine back out and sets it next to the laptop. Itachi struggles with the cap for a good minute before finally finagling it off. The boy drains the rest of the coffee from his mug to wash the huge pill down. He takes an uneasy breath and shuts his eyes, pulling his glasses off and leaning back heavily against the loveseat behind him.

Kisame frowns.

"Your arm bugging you?"

"My head." Itachi corrects. "Please just be quiet for a moment."

Kisame stands awkwardly, unsure what to do. Itachi curls into a ball briefly, then uncurls. Breathes. Then rises uneasily to his feet, sliding his glasses back on with a trembling hand.

"I'm going outside."

Itachi slides his shoes on, grabs his jacket and heads out the door. Kisame trails after him, ignoring the stares of passersby. The two of them together must make a rather odd sight, so he can't really fault anyone for looking.

Besides- Kisame's always stood out in a crowd.

The late winter sun shines weakly, making a valiant effort to warm the frigid air outside. They tread through patchy snow with no particular destination in mind, wandering to where the crowds disperse and they're more or less alone again.

"I don't need you following me," Itachi grumbles.

"I can't exactly do my job unless I do," Kisame points out.

"You don't need to be breathing down my neck every second of the day to do your job!"

Itachi picks up his pace to try and put more distance between them.

"Wait just a minute-"

Kisame grabs Itachi by the wrist.

"Don't touch me!"

Like a cornered cat, Itachi whirls around, jerks his hand away, and strikes the man across the face.

Hard.

Itachi's countenance, which has been perfectly pleasant up until now, contorts with unbridled rage.

"Don't touch me," he repeats, his tone low and as menacing as he can manage. "You haven't earned the right."

So, the little punk has some fight in him after all.

"I don't think you quite understand your position here," Itachi hisses, glaring daggers at the older man and trying ever-so-hard to be intimidating. "The only reason you're here is because it keeps my family's mind at ease. You're not my parent and you're not my damn babysitter! You lay a hand on me again and I swear-"

"You'll kill me, Itachi-san?" Kisame mocks, sneering at the boy as he draws himself up to his pitiful height. "As if you'd have the nerve."

"I've done it before." Itachi says, with a bluntness that takes Kisame aback.

When the fuck-

"There was an incident a few years back where Itachi was abducted."

"-He got himself injured trying to get away."

Is that how he fucked his arm up so badly?

Of course, Kisame doesn't dare voice his question out loud. Itachi is far too riled up to take it well.

Itachi winces like shouting too much hurt him. He buries his hands in his jacket pockets and continues on his way. After a moment, he fishes a pair of headphones out of his pocket and sticks them in his ears to better ignore the man behind him. Kisame still follows, but keeps a greater distance this time. The silence is maddening, but the Uchiha is about as friendly as a rabid alley cat right now.

The boy's phone buzzes after an eon. Itachi glances at it and quickly turns around.

"We need to head back. We're meeting with our band manager soon."

He's returned to stone, regaining his composure after his outburst. Kisame's face still stings from where he's been struck; here's a surprising amount of strength in that scrawny body.

His friends(?) are waiting outside, in front of an absolutely battered, ancient car.

"The hell were you?" The blond one demands.

"On a walk." Is Itachi's reply.

"Why?!"

"Why do you care, Deidara?" Hidan asks, quirking a silver eyebrow. "Ya like him or something?"

Deidara turns crimson.

"Don't be stupid!" He shouts, his voice cracking slightly. "It's just I don't want him getting sick right before our show hn! It'd ruin everything!"

"Sure, princess."

Deidara continues to bicker with Hidan while they pile into this car that's about three seats too short for everyone who has to fit. Kisame is wedged uncomfortably between Itachi and the blue-haired woman. He distracts himself during the ride by subtly reading Itachi's phone.

Are you sure you're okay? You didn't look well when I talked to you this morning. Reads the message from "Little Brother".

-I'm okay, Sasuke. I just didn't sleep well on the plane. Reads Itachi's reply.

What about that guy I saw earlier? He looked scary.

-He's the guy Ojiisan talked to us about.

What do you think about him?

-He's fine. Don't worry about him.

A brief pause while Sasuke types

Just make sure you take care of yourself, Niisan. I have to get back to class- I've got a huge test.

-Do your best, Sasuke.

Kisame finds himself vaguely amused by Itachi's words.

I'm okay. He's fine. Don't worry.

You're a liar, Itachi-san.