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[archived] [Itachi + Akatsuki] ; Saké Cup
Written as a gift for bakkhos last Christmas. Enjoy the crack. :D
Title: Saké Cup
Word count: 2,408
Characters/Pairing: Itachi, and the rest of Akatsuki. But no Orochimaru. I dun like him today.
Rating: Teen, for quite a bit of swearing.
Summary: When Itachi first joins Akatsuki, there's an "initiation ceremony" of sorts. One that involves alcohol. Lots, and lots, of alcohol. Strange things are said when one is drunk. Pity Kisame. Yeah. DRUNK!Itachi crack.
And there's fanart, too!
A/N: Okay. I don't know who all was in Akatsuki when Itachi joined. And I'm not even sure how old Itachi was when he joined. This is crack. Crack doesn't have to make sense.
Akatsuki wasn’t that different from other evil organizations.
They had cool outfits.
They had strange makeup. (Okay, so it had been decided that there would be no lipstick, though. Nail polish would be appropriately intimidating without crossing over into drag.)
And they had kick-ass initiation ceremonies.
Hazing an S-class criminal was difficult. Not only difficult, but potentially harmful to one's health. So in place of hazing, members of Akatsuki came up with what they called “first night” (with many muttered jokes about double meanings). It was a night where fun would be had, and fools would be made out of reasonably intelligent and respectable (if feared) ninja.
So when Itachi joined Akatsuki, and his “first night” came around, he was ready for anything. He was ready for men in masks with sharp weapons. He was ready for poison in his food, or snakes in his bed. He was ready for a bloody holocaust.
What Itachi wasn’t prepared for, however, was walking into his small, undecorated room, and finding it filled to bursting with men and alcohol. Itachi thought that all they needed were a few naked women and it could have passed for a bachelor party.
“Itachi!” Deidara cried as he headed towards him, weaving his way in-between Sasori and Hidan, holding a saké bottle in one hand. “You’re back early. We just got things set up, un.” Itachi tried not to take a step back as the bottle was thrust towards his face. “Here,” Deidara grinned and continued to offer him the drink, swaying slightly. “You can get started with this, un.”
Itachi eyed the bottle warily, then took it from Deidara with a glare. “What do you mean by ‘get started with this’?” he asked, looking around his room and suddenly feeling very relieved that he had no very personal belongings to speak of. For if he had, Kakuzu would have surely taken them by now to try and determine their worth. The man in question was currently eyeing Itachi’s spare pair of shoes with interest. Interest that could be bordering on appraisal for a future sale.
Why couldn’t he have joined a rich evil organization?
The shark man - Kisame, that was his name - turned and gave him a wicked, toothy grin. Itachi blinked once, slow and long, before raising the saké bottle to his lips and drinking down its contents as fast as possible.
~ ~ ~
“And you know what he said? He told me that I could go fuck myself! Ha! Imagine that! How is that even possible?” Itachi reached for another glass of saké and the room swayed dangerously.
“Uh, yeah. That’s a real fucking crime,” Hidan muttered, looking at the door with longing.
“This silly little place wouldn’t even let me have a pet, did you know that?” Itachi gestured wildly with both hands as he spoke, eyes flashing back and forth between red and black. “I mean, he’s house-trained. He’s good mannered, and listens well to commands. Well, most of the time. Okay! Fine! So he’s a little bit whiney. That doesn’t matter,” he took another drink. “He’s so fucking cute.”
Kisame frowned, rubbing the front of his forehead as he tried to take in the long stream of babble that had been spewing from the Uchiha’s mouth for the past half-hour. “You wanted to bring a dog with you into Akatsuki?”
Itachi snorted and waved his hand loosely in Kisame’s direction. “Sasuke’s not a dog, you idiot. Though he certainly would look good with a collar…” he trailed off, eyes unfocused and staring at a far corner.
For the first time that evening, Sasori took interest.
“Sasuke? Uchiha Sasuke? That is your brother. You were going to keep your brother as a…pet?”
“That’s fucked up, un!”
“Oh my fucking God, isn’t that illegal or something?”
“I wonder if it would be as costly as a dog?”
Itachi struggled to his feet, hands out to his sides, swaying slightly. “He’s such a pretty boy. He’s always been cute. You just gotta poke that little head of his. Per-perfect surprised face,” he smiled, trying to mimic Sasuke’s expressions. The rest of the room looked on in veiled horror. “I wanted to take him with me, you know. He could’ve stayed here. There’s enough room for two.”
“Didn’t you kill your whole clan?” Sasori asked in a hurried attempt to change the subject, and the rest of the room listened with interest. Yes. This was the question they wanted answered. Perhaps this would bring Itachi back to his normal, stoic, much less frightening self.
“Pfft. They were all abom-abominabul-abominit-,” Itachi frowned, eyes crossing in concentration. “They were weak.” He finally said, smiling proudly.
“And a little shit of a kid isn’t weak? I think you got some fucked up brother complex or something, because hell.”
“Yeah, that’s called pedophili-“ Deidara quickly cut himself off after a pointed look from Sasori. “Uh, that’s great, un.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Itachi agreed with a sigh, reaching for his glass again and bringing it to his lips. For a moment it rested there, Itachi’s mouth moving slowly along the rim as he searched for liquid, before he frowned and moved the cup from away from his face to get a good look into it. “Hey. It’s empty.”
“Wonderful observation, dumb-ass.”
“I need more.”
“Uh, there isn’t any left?” Deidara smiled innocently as he pushed several still-corked saké bottles behind his back.
“What do you mean there isn’t any left? There was tons of that stuff in my room when I first got here. You guys drank it all?” Itachi looked back at his cup, eyebrows drawn together in contemplation.
Kakuzu snorted. “No, I think you drank most of it. Do you know how much all of this cost the organization? I had no idea that it was even humanly possible to drink that much and still be conscious.”
Itachi ignored him.
“You know,” he looked at the cup in his hands closely, “this little swirl in the glaze looks kind of like Sasuke. Awh. Hi there, foolish little brother!” Itachi rubbed his cheek up against the side of the cup, smiling blissfully, while several pairs of eyes looked on in awe.
“He certainly is different when he’s drunk.” Zetsu chimed in. ”Agreed. We should set him upon enemies in an inebriated state. He can talk them to death.”
“You know, Sasuke, I could have fit you into my bag if I had really tried,” Itachi spoke sincerely to his saké cup, tracing the oddity in the pattern. “We could have lived here, and been all brotherly. Of course you would have been upset about the whole family slaughter thing, but I could have probably beaten that out of you.”
Hidan shot Itachi a disgusted glare and then stood and crossed the room towards the door, yanking it open. “Fucking pervert. I’m out of here.” The loud slam that followed his exit didn’t phase the Uchiha, who was now cooing gently to the still empty cup in his hands.
“I would have been such a good owner, too. I could have walked you, and trained you, and brushed your hair. And bathed you! Yes. I would have made sure you were nice and clean every night before we went to bed.”
“…I think I hear someone calling for me,” Kakuzu said slowly, exiting the room with haste, followed by a very disturbed-looking Zetsu.
“You know, I think I might have came on as a bit too strong,” Itachi murmured, nodding. “I’m pretty sure that he’s gonna think that I want him to kill me now.”
Itachi glanced at Sasori. Sasori held Itachi’s gaze.
Itachi burst out laughing.
“Kill me! How priceless is that? That would be so cute to see. Wittle Sasuke, all enraged and rushing at me with the intent to kill. God, I’ll have to bring a camera. That would be a sight to see, wouldn’t it? What a turn on. Hey, where’s the saké?”
Sasori looked at Deidara out of the corner of his eye. “I think it’s time to go,” he said softly, rising and heading for the door without so much as a glance behind him. Deidara deflated a bit as he let out a sigh of relief and swept the remaining saké bottles into his cloak (they really were quite useful for hiding...things), following Sasori with not even a sympathetic glance to Kisame.
“He’s your partner,” Deidara said with a shrug of his shoulders. “You take care of the problem, un.”
The door slammed shut and Kisame was left alone in the room with a teenaged mass-murderer. A teenaged mass-murderer who was piss drunk, and cooing to a saké cup. Kisame began to curse very colorfully in his head.
Several moments later, after riffling through several drawers, Kisame had compiled together a set of pajamas. He looked back to Itachi, who was still mumbling to himself about his brother (what the fuck was up with that shit?) and took a deep breath. “Here kid, get yourself dressed, okay?
Itachi looked from the “Sasuke” cup, to the clothes, and back to the cup again. An impatient sigh escaped Kisame as Itachi turned and set the cup down carefully on top of his pillow before reaching out to grab the clothes.
And missing by a mile.
Itachi frowned, confused, and reached out again - this time more energetically. He ended up on the floor, limbs twisted into a position that just had to be uncomfortable. Kisame, though highly amused, briefly wondered if Itachi would remember any of this tomorrow, and so he picked him up off the floor, sitting him in a nearby chair and setting the pile of clothes down in his lap.
“Now I’m, uh, gonna turn around. You get dressed.” Kisame scratched nervously at the collar of his shirt and Itachi switched on the Sharingan, eyeing the pajamas from every angle.
“Ooookay,” he finally said, trying to get his shirt up over his head and somehow getting stuck in one of the armholes. Kisame listened to the struggle behind his turned back for another minute before, snarling, he turned around and ripped Itachi’s shirt the rest of the way off, and quickly pulled the new one down over his head.
Who cared if it was backwards?
Itachi blinked dumbly and then smiled, eyes crinkling in drunken happiness. “Thank you, Ki-sa-me!” Gritting his teeth, Kisame stared helplessly at Itachi’s pants, holding onto the pajama bottoms with all his might, while at the same time trying not to rip the fabric.
“And I suppose you won’t be able to get your pants off either, will you?” There was a hint of desperation in his voice (please don’t make me undress him, please don’t make me undress him), and he watched - while muttering a few silent prayers in his head - as Itachi swayed and staggered to his feet, proudly unbuttoning his pants on the fifth try.
“Of course I can take your pants off. I mean my pants. Hehe. Why would I take your pants off?” Itachi managed to almost get his right leg out of the pants, but a slight breeze took that moment to pass through the room, and this was enough to send the Uchiha tumbling to the floor in a fit of giggles. “Oh, they’re naughty, aren’t they?”
Kisame, thwacking a hand to his forehead, swore that he would never, ever, touch another drop of saké if he was still living tomorrow. And that he would never, ever, let Itachi touch another drop either. “All right then, bloody hell…” Pulling Itachi into something of a sitting position, Kisame quickly and efficiently rid him of his pants, before just as quickly pulling on the new pair.
Itachi patted his arm and smiled. “Thank you Sasuke, you’re s-so cute sometimes.” Kisame took that moment to back-pedal out of there, yelling out a quick “good-night!” before slamming the door (hoping that Itachi would be able to make it to his bed, but doubting it) and heading towards his room, muttering curses the whole way.
He passed by Kakuzu’s room on the way, and as several heads peeked out in curiosity he turned to them and hissed, “Never, ever, again.”
~ ~ ~
The next morning, when everyone stumbled out of bed with different levels of hell playing around in their heads (well, save Sasori, who never drank or ate anything, it seemed), they had almost forgotten about the “initiation” of Itachi the previous night.
They damn well remembered when they entered the kitchen to find a rather disgruntled teenager, holding a few sharp, pointy objects, and practically glaring daggers. A broken (well, more like decimated, thought Kisame) saké cup rested sadly on the counter, and Itachi glanced at it once as everyone filed in, before turning his attention back to Deidara.
“I don’t remember much of what happened last night,” he began, twirling a kunai in his fingers. “But I do remember that it was you who first offered me that vile liquid.” The Sharingan switched on.
Deidara giggled nervously and then ran out the door. Itachi made a move to follow before grabbing his head with his free hand and groaning.
Kisame hesitantly drifted into the room, reaching into one of the cupboards and pulling out a bottle of pills. Better to get on his good side, right? Especially if he remembered, per chance, that you removed his pants last night. That wouldn’t look good taken out of context. Itachi was still rubbing his head, a rather murderous expression on his face, when Kisame plopped the pills and a glass of water down in front of him.
“Uh, here. These should do something about the headache, and, yeah, I’m going to go…”
Before Itachi even had time to react, Kisame had grabbed half the contents of the fridge and bolted from the kitchen. He took one look behind him as he fled and saw Itachi swallowing several of the pills, chugging down the water. His eye also caught the smashed “Sasuke” cup, and for a moment he pitied the kid.
And his ass.
Then he worried about his own and quickly ran off to find where Diedara was hiding. Little fuck always found good hiding places. He’d need to borrow one for several days. One thing that Kisame did know - there would never be another “first night” initiation ceremony that involved saké.
From somewhere far behind him he heard Itachi bellow, “And who took off my clothes last night?!”
Title: Saké Cup
Word count: 2,408
Characters/Pairing: Itachi, and the rest of Akatsuki. But no Orochimaru. I dun like him today.
Rating: Teen, for quite a bit of swearing.
Summary: When Itachi first joins Akatsuki, there's an "initiation ceremony" of sorts. One that involves alcohol. Lots, and lots, of alcohol. Strange things are said when one is drunk. Pity Kisame. Yeah. DRUNK!Itachi crack.
And there's fanart, too!
A/N: Okay. I don't know who all was in Akatsuki when Itachi joined. And I'm not even sure how old Itachi was when he joined. This is crack. Crack doesn't have to make sense.
Akatsuki wasn’t that different from other evil organizations.
They had cool outfits.
They had strange makeup. (Okay, so it had been decided that there would be no lipstick, though. Nail polish would be appropriately intimidating without crossing over into drag.)
And they had kick-ass initiation ceremonies.
Hazing an S-class criminal was difficult. Not only difficult, but potentially harmful to one's health. So in place of hazing, members of Akatsuki came up with what they called “first night” (with many muttered jokes about double meanings). It was a night where fun would be had, and fools would be made out of reasonably intelligent and respectable (if feared) ninja.
So when Itachi joined Akatsuki, and his “first night” came around, he was ready for anything. He was ready for men in masks with sharp weapons. He was ready for poison in his food, or snakes in his bed. He was ready for a bloody holocaust.
What Itachi wasn’t prepared for, however, was walking into his small, undecorated room, and finding it filled to bursting with men and alcohol. Itachi thought that all they needed were a few naked women and it could have passed for a bachelor party.
“Itachi!” Deidara cried as he headed towards him, weaving his way in-between Sasori and Hidan, holding a saké bottle in one hand. “You’re back early. We just got things set up, un.” Itachi tried not to take a step back as the bottle was thrust towards his face. “Here,” Deidara grinned and continued to offer him the drink, swaying slightly. “You can get started with this, un.”
Itachi eyed the bottle warily, then took it from Deidara with a glare. “What do you mean by ‘get started with this’?” he asked, looking around his room and suddenly feeling very relieved that he had no very personal belongings to speak of. For if he had, Kakuzu would have surely taken them by now to try and determine their worth. The man in question was currently eyeing Itachi’s spare pair of shoes with interest. Interest that could be bordering on appraisal for a future sale.
Why couldn’t he have joined a rich evil organization?
The shark man - Kisame, that was his name - turned and gave him a wicked, toothy grin. Itachi blinked once, slow and long, before raising the saké bottle to his lips and drinking down its contents as fast as possible.
~ ~ ~
“And you know what he said? He told me that I could go fuck myself! Ha! Imagine that! How is that even possible?” Itachi reached for another glass of saké and the room swayed dangerously.
“Uh, yeah. That’s a real fucking crime,” Hidan muttered, looking at the door with longing.
“This silly little place wouldn’t even let me have a pet, did you know that?” Itachi gestured wildly with both hands as he spoke, eyes flashing back and forth between red and black. “I mean, he’s house-trained. He’s good mannered, and listens well to commands. Well, most of the time. Okay! Fine! So he’s a little bit whiney. That doesn’t matter,” he took another drink. “He’s so fucking cute.”
Kisame frowned, rubbing the front of his forehead as he tried to take in the long stream of babble that had been spewing from the Uchiha’s mouth for the past half-hour. “You wanted to bring a dog with you into Akatsuki?”
Itachi snorted and waved his hand loosely in Kisame’s direction. “Sasuke’s not a dog, you idiot. Though he certainly would look good with a collar…” he trailed off, eyes unfocused and staring at a far corner.
For the first time that evening, Sasori took interest.
“Sasuke? Uchiha Sasuke? That is your brother. You were going to keep your brother as a…pet?”
“That’s fucked up, un!”
“Oh my fucking God, isn’t that illegal or something?”
“I wonder if it would be as costly as a dog?”
Itachi struggled to his feet, hands out to his sides, swaying slightly. “He’s such a pretty boy. He’s always been cute. You just gotta poke that little head of his. Per-perfect surprised face,” he smiled, trying to mimic Sasuke’s expressions. The rest of the room looked on in veiled horror. “I wanted to take him with me, you know. He could’ve stayed here. There’s enough room for two.”
“Didn’t you kill your whole clan?” Sasori asked in a hurried attempt to change the subject, and the rest of the room listened with interest. Yes. This was the question they wanted answered. Perhaps this would bring Itachi back to his normal, stoic, much less frightening self.
“Pfft. They were all abom-abominabul-abominit-,” Itachi frowned, eyes crossing in concentration. “They were weak.” He finally said, smiling proudly.
“And a little shit of a kid isn’t weak? I think you got some fucked up brother complex or something, because hell.”
“Yeah, that’s called pedophili-“ Deidara quickly cut himself off after a pointed look from Sasori. “Uh, that’s great, un.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Itachi agreed with a sigh, reaching for his glass again and bringing it to his lips. For a moment it rested there, Itachi’s mouth moving slowly along the rim as he searched for liquid, before he frowned and moved the cup from away from his face to get a good look into it. “Hey. It’s empty.”
“Wonderful observation, dumb-ass.”
“I need more.”
“Uh, there isn’t any left?” Deidara smiled innocently as he pushed several still-corked saké bottles behind his back.
“What do you mean there isn’t any left? There was tons of that stuff in my room when I first got here. You guys drank it all?” Itachi looked back at his cup, eyebrows drawn together in contemplation.
Kakuzu snorted. “No, I think you drank most of it. Do you know how much all of this cost the organization? I had no idea that it was even humanly possible to drink that much and still be conscious.”
Itachi ignored him.
“You know,” he looked at the cup in his hands closely, “this little swirl in the glaze looks kind of like Sasuke. Awh. Hi there, foolish little brother!” Itachi rubbed his cheek up against the side of the cup, smiling blissfully, while several pairs of eyes looked on in awe.
“He certainly is different when he’s drunk.” Zetsu chimed in. ”Agreed. We should set him upon enemies in an inebriated state. He can talk them to death.”
“You know, Sasuke, I could have fit you into my bag if I had really tried,” Itachi spoke sincerely to his saké cup, tracing the oddity in the pattern. “We could have lived here, and been all brotherly. Of course you would have been upset about the whole family slaughter thing, but I could have probably beaten that out of you.”
Hidan shot Itachi a disgusted glare and then stood and crossed the room towards the door, yanking it open. “Fucking pervert. I’m out of here.” The loud slam that followed his exit didn’t phase the Uchiha, who was now cooing gently to the still empty cup in his hands.
“I would have been such a good owner, too. I could have walked you, and trained you, and brushed your hair. And bathed you! Yes. I would have made sure you were nice and clean every night before we went to bed.”
“…I think I hear someone calling for me,” Kakuzu said slowly, exiting the room with haste, followed by a very disturbed-looking Zetsu.
“You know, I think I might have came on as a bit too strong,” Itachi murmured, nodding. “I’m pretty sure that he’s gonna think that I want him to kill me now.”
Itachi glanced at Sasori. Sasori held Itachi’s gaze.
Itachi burst out laughing.
“Kill me! How priceless is that? That would be so cute to see. Wittle Sasuke, all enraged and rushing at me with the intent to kill. God, I’ll have to bring a camera. That would be a sight to see, wouldn’t it? What a turn on. Hey, where’s the saké?”
Sasori looked at Deidara out of the corner of his eye. “I think it’s time to go,” he said softly, rising and heading for the door without so much as a glance behind him. Deidara deflated a bit as he let out a sigh of relief and swept the remaining saké bottles into his cloak (they really were quite useful for hiding...things), following Sasori with not even a sympathetic glance to Kisame.
“He’s your partner,” Deidara said with a shrug of his shoulders. “You take care of the problem, un.”
The door slammed shut and Kisame was left alone in the room with a teenaged mass-murderer. A teenaged mass-murderer who was piss drunk, and cooing to a saké cup. Kisame began to curse very colorfully in his head.
Several moments later, after riffling through several drawers, Kisame had compiled together a set of pajamas. He looked back to Itachi, who was still mumbling to himself about his brother (what the fuck was up with that shit?) and took a deep breath. “Here kid, get yourself dressed, okay?
Itachi looked from the “Sasuke” cup, to the clothes, and back to the cup again. An impatient sigh escaped Kisame as Itachi turned and set the cup down carefully on top of his pillow before reaching out to grab the clothes.
And missing by a mile.
Itachi frowned, confused, and reached out again - this time more energetically. He ended up on the floor, limbs twisted into a position that just had to be uncomfortable. Kisame, though highly amused, briefly wondered if Itachi would remember any of this tomorrow, and so he picked him up off the floor, sitting him in a nearby chair and setting the pile of clothes down in his lap.
“Now I’m, uh, gonna turn around. You get dressed.” Kisame scratched nervously at the collar of his shirt and Itachi switched on the Sharingan, eyeing the pajamas from every angle.
“Ooookay,” he finally said, trying to get his shirt up over his head and somehow getting stuck in one of the armholes. Kisame listened to the struggle behind his turned back for another minute before, snarling, he turned around and ripped Itachi’s shirt the rest of the way off, and quickly pulled the new one down over his head.
Who cared if it was backwards?
Itachi blinked dumbly and then smiled, eyes crinkling in drunken happiness. “Thank you, Ki-sa-me!” Gritting his teeth, Kisame stared helplessly at Itachi’s pants, holding onto the pajama bottoms with all his might, while at the same time trying not to rip the fabric.
“And I suppose you won’t be able to get your pants off either, will you?” There was a hint of desperation in his voice (please don’t make me undress him, please don’t make me undress him), and he watched - while muttering a few silent prayers in his head - as Itachi swayed and staggered to his feet, proudly unbuttoning his pants on the fifth try.
“Of course I can take your pants off. I mean my pants. Hehe. Why would I take your pants off?” Itachi managed to almost get his right leg out of the pants, but a slight breeze took that moment to pass through the room, and this was enough to send the Uchiha tumbling to the floor in a fit of giggles. “Oh, they’re naughty, aren’t they?”
Kisame, thwacking a hand to his forehead, swore that he would never, ever, touch another drop of saké if he was still living tomorrow. And that he would never, ever, let Itachi touch another drop either. “All right then, bloody hell…” Pulling Itachi into something of a sitting position, Kisame quickly and efficiently rid him of his pants, before just as quickly pulling on the new pair.
Itachi patted his arm and smiled. “Thank you Sasuke, you’re s-so cute sometimes.” Kisame took that moment to back-pedal out of there, yelling out a quick “good-night!” before slamming the door (hoping that Itachi would be able to make it to his bed, but doubting it) and heading towards his room, muttering curses the whole way.
He passed by Kakuzu’s room on the way, and as several heads peeked out in curiosity he turned to them and hissed, “Never, ever, again.”
~ ~ ~
The next morning, when everyone stumbled out of bed with different levels of hell playing around in their heads (well, save Sasori, who never drank or ate anything, it seemed), they had almost forgotten about the “initiation” of Itachi the previous night.
They damn well remembered when they entered the kitchen to find a rather disgruntled teenager, holding a few sharp, pointy objects, and practically glaring daggers. A broken (well, more like decimated, thought Kisame) saké cup rested sadly on the counter, and Itachi glanced at it once as everyone filed in, before turning his attention back to Deidara.
“I don’t remember much of what happened last night,” he began, twirling a kunai in his fingers. “But I do remember that it was you who first offered me that vile liquid.” The Sharingan switched on.
Deidara giggled nervously and then ran out the door. Itachi made a move to follow before grabbing his head with his free hand and groaning.
Kisame hesitantly drifted into the room, reaching into one of the cupboards and pulling out a bottle of pills. Better to get on his good side, right? Especially if he remembered, per chance, that you removed his pants last night. That wouldn’t look good taken out of context. Itachi was still rubbing his head, a rather murderous expression on his face, when Kisame plopped the pills and a glass of water down in front of him.
“Uh, here. These should do something about the headache, and, yeah, I’m going to go…”
Before Itachi even had time to react, Kisame had grabbed half the contents of the fridge and bolted from the kitchen. He took one look behind him as he fled and saw Itachi swallowing several of the pills, chugging down the water. His eye also caught the smashed “Sasuke” cup, and for a moment he pitied the kid.
And his ass.
Then he worried about his own and quickly ran off to find where Diedara was hiding. Little fuck always found good hiding places. He’d need to borrow one for several days. One thing that Kisame did know - there would never be another “first night” initiation ceremony that involved saké.
From somewhere far behind him he heard Itachi bellow, “And who took off my clothes last night?!”