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Who: Ashiko and Itachi
Where: An inconspicuous little village in the Land of Rice
When: April 15
Notes: A friendly encounter. Sort of. Mostly, he's just happy she's alive.

'Perhaps you should take it easy, Ashiko-sama,' a few of the lower-ranked servants had suggested, meek and worried. 'It was such a stressful situation. You deserve a rest.'

Honestly. It was as though they didn't know her at all.

Ashiko could never be happy cooling her heels, even if the alternative was being away from her master's side. Since the caravan debacle he had elected to keep a low profile, which meant that Ashiko's little errands resumed, with more frequency than ever before. Otogakure had no shortage of skilled medical ninja, not the least of which was her esteemed Danna-sama, so it wasn't as though she was even on the mend; she had been patched up as good as new by the day after their return, and had only her own bruised pride to pain her.

She didn't care that Orochimaru had stabbed a person through her, really; she was upset that she had hindered her master to the point that he had even had to do such a thing in the first place. It was a similar sentiment that had kept her from using her scroll to make contact with any Konoha shinobi. How exactly did one broach such a strained social situation? 'My master and I are in good health, I hope that none of you were fatally poisoned after we defended ourselves from your highly unwarranted attack,' seemed ill-put.

But even Ashiko could nurse a grudge, if one on behalf of her master.

The woman sighed softly and ducked into the inn and tavern that would be her lodgings for the night, sliding into the last available booth and leaning back against the old, lacquered wood tiredly. She was in the pink of health, but the weather and the long hours she had chosen to undertake had worn her out for the day.

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"Swimming is easy. Well, probably not in a full kimono..." Itachi should try that somehow just to see how it would go. "I mean, the layers would be heavy and restrictive, so even if you could swim well, you might not be able too, and taking all that off while in the water would be difficult..." Itachi considered the problem deeply. Was he drunk?

If he was, he'd just seriously screwed up.

"Maybe if I loosened the obi..." Ashiko trailed off, sake-soaked mind churning through the logistics of that maneuver. "Well, I wouldn't really want to do that if the men who tossed me in were still around, but I can get out of my clothes just fine. But I still can't swim." And according to him, screaming for help wasn't as easy as she thought it would be.

And she wouldn't want to be half-naked while screaming for help, either.

"There's no help for it, Ashiko-san. You have to learn how to swim. You'll be twice as useful to your master if you do, and you'll be much safer." Itachi nudged his saucer and decided he shouldn't drink anymore. He wasn't drunk, right? Just a little tipsy. He should be able to think and plan and kill people is necessary.

"I can't say you're wrong, Iori-kun," she admitted after finishing her daifuku and taking up her cup once more. "I will learn at the earliest opportunity." She nursed her drink for a moment, then glanced at him and tilted her head towards what was left in the bottle. "Done for the night?" She scooted it more towards her side of the table.

"I would like to be able to walk to my room," Itachi admitted. "I really do not drink much. I've probably had too much already." He thought he would feel more sick if he had had too much, but he just felt a little warm and fuzzy, like he was wrapped in a giant, fuzzy blanket. It wasn't really a bad feeling. He also really wanted to curl up and sleep somewhere warm.

"No shame in that," Ashiko assured him, even as she refilled her own cup once again. "It's good to know one's limits." Her brow wrinkled thoughtfully and she took a long sip. "But I think we've already had that conversation before, somewhere down the line." Something to do with capacity, or something similar if her mind wasn't playing tricks on her.

"We have had many good conversations," Itachi said. If he said things that didn't mean anything, he could get through being fuzzy headed without doing something utterly stupid, right? Itachi cleared his throat. "I have found one of my limits tonight, it seems." He was hesitating to kill this girl he liked. No more than liked and felt a passing fondness for. Did it take that much to undermine his loyalty to his village?

"The first time we met, you said it was fate," she reminded him. Or possibly herself. "Or...you asked me if I believed in fate. Or...no, I think both happened." There was only about enough for one more cup in the bottle, two tops. When had that happened. "It would be nice if that were true." Had she said that before? It felt like she had said that before. It sounded like something she would say.

"Why couldn't it be fate? We've both learned from each other, and maybe one day we'll cross path's again. Or our children will. Now that would be fate, if our children ever met and become friends." Itachi nodded seriously. He'd just remembered that was a drunken habit he'd made up for Iori a few minutes ago. Maybe more than a few.

"I've never really thought about fate from any perspective other than a Kuzuryu one." Ah, her cup was empty. She poured out what was left, and briefly admired the way the light hit the glassy surface. "It's a little scary, thinking of being bound to somebody other than Danna-sama. But I guess that's because I was alone when he came to me." She blinked slowly, tracing a pattern on her sleeve rather than picking up her cup. A sudden thought struck her.

"You were wrong before, you know." She glanced up at him, eyes dark enough to hide the state of her pupils. "About me not being satisfied staying in the house. If it comes down to 'like' or 'hate' then I hate traveling. And errands. I like having a home, and I like it when I can take care of that home. But I like making Danna-sama happy the most. So that's why I don't stay home."

"Fate rarely asks who we want to be bond too. The lucky or brave are able to choose who they will be bound to, but most of us make do, or must make do, with what we're given." Like being born into a clan. A village. Itachi watched Ashiko trace a pattern on her sleeve.

"We are very different, then," Itachi began, then realized that might be too true a thought to share. "But, I travel by my own choice, and you do not, so maybe that's why it's different." Truly, lately Itachi had begun thinking he was more at home away from home. He became so used to playing roles that it was almost easier to be who the people back home wanted him to be--perfect son, heir, brother, friend...whatever the role he played in their lives. There were many secrets he couldn't tell people. From everyone he kept something secret and hidden. Maybe Uchiha Itachi was no more a real and honest person than Iori, but another elaborate lie.

Itachi's lips twisted into a grim smile at the thought. A shadow in the shadows, unknowable. That was what he was becoming.

"You travel to places you choose," Ashiko corrected him, her tone almost lazy in the wake of a belly full of sake. "That's the main difference. Maybe. Nobody kicks me out the door, you see, but I have what comes after mapped out for me. At least partly. The endpoints, always. Things can get a little troublesome between where I start and where I end. It's fun, sometimes, and I meet new people, but it's like floating away from..." She trailed off, brow wrinkling. "I...don't really know where I was going with that. I don't get water metaphors much."

She glanced up cup lifted halfway to her mouth, and paused when she saw that almost bitter curl of his mouth. She set the cup down as gently as possible, then leaned up bodily over the table to flick him gently on the forehead with her index finger. "Evil spirits be gone," she murmured, frowning slightly, but smiled in a surprisingly mischievous sort of way as she dropped back down into her seat. "You looked plagued. Or...possessed." Ashiko explained, sipping her final cup as though she had never been interrupted in the first place. "One of those two, at least. It was really very unfortunate."

As Ashiko moved, Itachi leaned back, tensed and ready for something. He wasn't ready to be flicked on the forehead. He blinked stupidly and rubbed the skin she'd touched, expecting to feel some kind of heat or cold. It was jarring to have her do that, as it was similar to the motion he used with Sasuke all the time. Itachi's mouth felt a little dry.

"I...I was thinking," Itachi paused and then blundered on. "That I am not sure I like the person I am becoming," Itachi admitted. He smothered a yawn.

"The obvious solution is we'll run away together, which removed the issue of a sake sodden and possibly tearful parting, and then we'll both be free to be whatever and go wherever we wants," Itachi explained rather simply. "And I think I am drunk." Oddly this made him want to curl up somewhere warm and sleep.

Ashiko laughed, only just barely managing not to choke on the mouthful of sake she had begun to swallow. She had done that on a whim, but it seemed to be fairly effective. She'd have to keep that in mind, for future situations.

"I think a lot of people feel that way sometimes," she said, once everything was down safely. Of course, she wasn't among that number, but even in Otogakure shinobi were occasionally struck by the odd bout of self-loathing. "The thing about people is that they always have the capacity to change, so you don't have to be that person if you don't want to be. I'm pretty sure I've said something along those lines before."

She listened to his offer and tipped back her cup, finishing her drink. "I don't know about drunk since you can still say things like 'sake sodden' but you're definitely tipsy if you're thinking about running away with me." Even if it was a joke, Ashiko found herself feeling a little flattered by the sentiment. "You have a nice monastery waiting on you by the shore and Danna-sama would worry if I took off into the sunset with some man he's never even met."

"But to change into something better, one must first decide what is better," Itachi pointed out. He could say that instead of saying changing himself would man changing everyone perspective of him. Maybe he didn't like what he was becoming, but he was useful. He was the genuis Uchiha heir, and the undercover ANBU. He filled vital roles in his village with his juggling act of truth and lies and bowing his head to other's orders. He enjoyed being away from home, because he could pretend he was free. As a child it had always been enough to strive for a better test score, prefect a jutsu, earn his father or Shisui's praise. It had been enough to know he was serving Konoha in the shadows, silent but deadly and effective in whatever task his village needed from him. And now...

Now he didn't know what to think. He was drunk. He must be, and that was why he was thinking these things.

"We will write your Danna-sama a nice long letter, and if he wants you to return, then we'll go back and I'll found a monastery in his backyard. I'll go with you on your errands too, so we'll have the best of all worlds--a home to return to, I'll get to travel still, and you'll have a traveling companion," Itachi fabricated the impossible future with a mad glint in his eye, where he'd been frowning before. Mercurial mood swings for the drunken Iori? Why not.

"If I'm not really drunk, I don't think I ever want to be really drunk." His thoughts kept getting away from him.

"Sometimes, I think it's enough to aim for 'what feels better,'" Ashiko said. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise when he dogged after that 'run away together idea' fleshing it out and making it sound only half as crazy as it had originally. Despite herself—or perhaps, because of the sake settling warmly in her gut—she let herself think about it. A nice life on the road, with a nice companion. Maybe a tranquil little house that they would keep straying back to, which would eventually become a home filled with little children. Or Iori in Otogakure, spending his days in the library with her master. Pretty little children with pale skin, black hair, and dark eyes.

She paused, startled, because that last image was more attractive than she had thought it might be. But it was enough to remind her of her duty, and the real situation. Ashiko was a Kuzuryu, and knew her place and duty. Ishida Iori was a living, breathing lie.

One who had, apparently, kick started Ashiko's desire to have a family again, but a lie nonetheless.

"...maybe you are drunk," she agreed after a too long, too thoughtful pause. "I think, perhaps, we should find a way to cool our heads." And inch back towards sobriety.

"I actually hope I am, if that's strange." He was sure someone had once told him a few tricks to sobering up quickly, but he couldn't remember them. He probably hadn't paid a lot of attention, assuming he would never get drunk enough to need it. Itachi tried to sit up straighter. Ashiko obviously thought he was an idiot for babbling on about the running away together thing. She'd probably be less shocked if he said he was trying to decide whether or not to kill her.

"And what makes people sober up? I'm as naive in this matter as I was about travel when you first met me." Itachi blinked. His head still felt very heavy.

"Drinking coffee and water and taking cold showers," Ashiko said reflexively. Technically, the only way to really sober up was to stop drinking—which they had—or vomiting up what they had downed, but those measures would take care of the dehydration and lethargy for the most part. And she didn't think he was an idiot, really; she thought Iori was sweet, but couldn't fathom what angle the shinobi behind the mask of Iori was playing at.

"Sorry, maybe I shouldn't have pushed you to drink with me..."

"Oh, no, I assure you this has been an enlightening experience and one I could not have had in better company, Ashiko-san, but I am sorry that your last memory of me will be when I was drunk." If he could get her alone, then he could kill her. He had to kill her, right? Otherwise it was to the interrogation chambers for Ashiko, and it would take a while to break her. She was too loyal. Had she been trained to with stand torture?

"There was a rain bucket outside. I suppose I could go stick my head in it..." Itachi suggested, trying to slur his words a little.

"...you did promise me swimming lessons," Ashiko remembered, because she was just drunk enough to find it an appealing idea. "And all the geese are probably asleep by now." At night, the water would be chilly enough to count as a cold bath, wouldn't it? So really, they would be hitting two birds with one stone, and it would leave them coherent enough for proper, final farewells. She warmed to the idea more and more as she turned it over in her mind.

And she had not been trained for torture, because she was a Kuzuryu. She had been taught dozens of ways to kill herself in order to protect her master before the age of ten. It had never been an issue she had overly considered, to tell the truth.

"As long as it's not too deep, we shouldn't drown." Itachi got clumsily to his feet. They'd better do this now before she changed her mind. Drowning a tipsy civilian girl would be easy, right? Itachi had never drowned someone before, but the principle was simple enough. You held someone underwater until they stopped fighting. Easy, right? Even civilian drowned each other, so he shouldn't have a problem.

"When you are drunk, do your thoughts go in obsessive circles?" Itachi asked as he stood unsteadily on his feet.

"My natural state of thought is obsessively circular," Ashiko carefully stood up, then blinked and blushed when she realized what she had just said. Usually, it made people uncomfortable to hear that she was aware that her fixation was considered unhealthy by most standards and maintained it anyways. She sidestepped the issue by making her way to the door as quickly and steadily as she could managed, slipping out into the cool evening air.

There was a suitable pond not terribly far away, a decoration for some establishment near the inn that had since been abandoned and left to itself. She trusted that her friend would follow, and moved forward.

Itachi followed Ashiko quickly. "Oddly, that doesn't surprise me." There wasn't enough sarcasm in the words to make then an un-Iori like comment, was there? Itachi followed Ashiko down to the water. The pond probably wouldn't be that deep, but standing water tended to be...dirty. Itachi looked at the pond and wondered if he really wanted to get in the water. He'd have to put his hair up.

Itachi glanced at Ashiko. "Oh...well...you'll drown if we try in that."

"Oh, hush," Ashiko grumbled good naturedly, before beginning to untie her obi without so much as a by-your-leave. She folded the richly embroidered belt neatly on a nearby stone bench and shrugged out of the layers of her normal wardrobe, treating each with gentle care until she was left in a simple set of pale purple, lace-overlayed undergarments. Her entire wardrobe followed strict, elegant standards, and she finished by plucking loose a gilded hair comb, laid gently ontop of her clothes.

She turned to him, arms akimbo and bereft of the shame she might have shown years before. "Well? Better?" They might be a little dirty, but perhaps they could steal a few rain buckets to rinse off, afterwards.

Itachi blinked. He opened his mouth, closed it, and felt his cheeks go red. Before he'd thought to turn around, Ashiko had removed all her clothes. Well, not all of them. Not the purple lacy layer. Itachi almost covered his eyes, thought it would be too childish, and then realized that would be an appropriate reaction for Iori.

"Uhm." Itachi blinked and nodded jerkly. She wouldn't drown in that. "That works."

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