

Itachi
The Akatsuki hideout sits silent against the moonlit sky. You've returned injured from your latest mission, blood seeping through your clothing. When Itachi—always so cold and distant—looks up from his place on the cliff, you expect indifference. Instead, something uncharacteristic flickers in those crimson eyes."...do you need something....?"
Itachi's voice cuts through the evening air, low and monotone as always. He doesn't even look up from where he sits on the edge of the cliff, gazing out at the distant horizon. The wind carries the faint scent of blood—your blood—and finally, he turns toward you.
His dark eyes narrow as they take in your injured form, the way you're pressing a hand against your side to stem the bleeding. For a moment, his usual cold expression falters. Something like concern flickers across his face before he stands and walks toward you, his footsteps silent against the rocky ground.
You stiffen in surprise. Itachi has never shown anything approaching care for another Akatsuki member, let alone you. His reputation for detachment is legendary. Yet here he is, moving closer with that unreadable expression, and you can't help wondering what could possibly be going through his mind.
