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The ground is slick from recent rain as you run, the mist swallowing all color.
"Wait for me!" You call out with the annoyance only a five-year-old can muster, "Kisame!!"
"You're too slow!" He grinds out only moments later when his arm shoots out from your right, pulling you down a narrow alley.
"I'm not!"
"Are too!"
You huff and try to step on his foot, but he moves out of the way just in time.
“Come on,” he grumbles, clearly annoyed, “We’re going to be late.”
-
It’s not easy growing up in Kirigakure. But it helps to be a child, quick on your feet and small enough to get into all the spaces grown-ups can no longer slip through.
There’s work at the docks for children, but you have to come at the right time and know the right people if you want to keep the money that you earn.
Kisame’s good at that. He’s taller than most of the children your age, so he’s not good for most of the work, but the fishermen are afraid of him and the Shinobi let him get away with almost everything.
“Here,” he pushes you toward one of the older ships, “I’ll pick you up in an hour.”
-
There used to be a time when your father didn’t want you playing with Kisame. Back then you still had money, a nice house, and people working for you instead of the other way around. But father got into fights with the wrong people. One day he just never came home.
-
“What’s a nice girl like you doing at the docks?” The guy asking has no teeth left. His gums have turned grey and his eyes have turned cold. You press yourself against the walls, well aware of the small sum of money that’s hidden in your pocket. The captain of this ship pays fairly, even though it’s never enough for the amount of work, never enough for the rising prices.
“Hands of my girl!” Kisame snarls from behind you, teeth bared. The threat is effective.
He guides you down the dock and up the streets, through the market where you buy a loaf of discounted bread and a few small fish. It eats up most of your earnings, but Kisame’s hand is warm around yours, his grip strong and self-assured. Everything will be okay.
- - -
The rich women of Kirigakure love their luxuries. Expensive dresses, expensive food, and, most importantly, cosmetics made from the finest ingredients.
It had been Kisame’s idea to get you into a pharmacy family when you didn’t show any signs of talent for the Shinobi traits.
You’re good at this kind of work, and it pays well. Well, enough to feed Kisame and you. If he keeps rising in the ranks like this, making more and more with each mission, there might be something like a future for the two of you. If he thinks like that of you, that is?
-
You’ve barely turned sixteen when he steals you from your bedroom one night, whisks you out of the village in a heartbeat. He’s gotten taller, broader in the shoulders, wears a proud smirk even when there’s nothing to be proud about - you’ve heard about the Chunin Exams. “Where are we going?” You ask, breathless. He’s too handsome for his own good, his light can’t be dimmed by neither nightfall nor mist.
“To the water.” He urges until you hit the shore, freezing cold water running over your toes.
“What’s going on?” You ask, hand curling around his. You don’t want him to let go. But he does.
“Nothing,” he insists, looking up at the stars, “I just can’t breathe properly in the village. I need to be out of that damned mist.”
You laugh. “You’re lying. Something’s up.”
He grins at that. “Fine, you caught me. I got promoted.”
“Really?!” You press your hands to your lips before they can do foolish things, like take a hold of him.
“Really! I’m working directly under Fuguki! If everything goes well, I might be a member of the Seven Swordsmen too, soon.”
“And then?” You ask, regretting the words the moment they spill from your lips.
“What do you mean?” Confusion draws over his face like clouds over the moon.
“I-I mean, I… what do you plan to do… when you reach that?”
“Well, be rich and famous, I guess.” He shrugs. “I don’t know how much they’re paid per mission, but I guess if I saved a little, it wouldn’t be too hard to buy a house. You could come by and cook for me then.”
Something cold and uncomfortable wedges itself into your heart. Your lips move on their own again.
“Wouldn’t I live with you then?”
You’re painfully reminded that Kisame is a Shinobi. He freezes, face completely still, but you know his mind is running a mile a minute just by the way he fixates on you. That’s how he used to look at the fishermen, trying to figure out who to avoid and who to trust.
You know he’s figured you out when he speaks up.
“Listen,” he says, “We’re friends. We grew up side by side, but if you want to have a husband and a little cozy house, I’m not the man for you.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” you rush to say. It’s a lie. Kisame’s always been able to tell when you were lying, but this time he’s not calling you out on it.
When he takes you back to your room shortly after, he does not look back when he leaves and you wonder if you’ll ever see him again.
- - -
Kisame Hoshigaki is a name known by all and feared by many.
They praise his loyalty, ready to slaughter all his comrades to keep the village safe.
It’s been almost two years since that day at the shore so you’re a little surprised to find him in your bedroom once again.
“Hey,” you’ve learned to go along with his antics long ago, so don’t scream when you find him slumped over your bed late at night, the bandages around his arm an ugly shade of red.
“Hey.” He grinds out. “Long time no see.”
“Whose fault is that?” You ask, unable to keep yourself from being a little petty.
He does not apologize, not that you expected him to.
“Did you get hurt?” You step up to him, hands reaching for the bandages. He moves away before you can reach him, his eyes boring holes into you.
“Why are you always nice to me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” You ask back.
“You don’t owe me anything, okay? I kept you safe, but you kept me fed. We’re even.”
“I know Kisame,” you insist, voice softer than it probably needs to be, “I’m not doing this because I owe you.”
“Then why?”
Your hands clench and unclench next to you, your heart heavy in your chest. You don’t want to say it, but what good does it bring to keep it in when he already knows anyway?
“I love you,” the words hang heavy in the air, “Love cares. Just because.”
Kisame buries his face in your bedding at that, body stiff as a board. You give him a minute to gather himself, to leave or do something else, but he doesn’t. When you reach for the bandages this time, he lets you.
When it’s time for you to sleep, he still hasn’t moved. Gingerly, you slip into bed next to him. He rolls a bit to the side so you can properly get under your blanket, face blank of any emotion. But his good arm comes out to pull you close as soon as you’re under the blanket.
Kisame doesn’t apologize nor does he address the topic at hand. But you should have known that that’s not something he would do.
- - -
The sky is clear for once, the ever present mist retreating from the shore.
The sand is cold underneath you, but you’re not willing to budge.
Something’s bothering Kisame, enough to drag you here. His knee is pressed against yours, the only form of touch he allows outside of the walls of your bedroom. His skin is warm and reassuring even though his silence is not.
“Do you ever feel stuck in place?” He asks suddenly, his voice barely above louder than the waves crashing.
“Sometimes,” you admit. “But I guess for different reasons than you.”
“What are yours?”
“There’s this guy I love and I guess he likes me too,” his lips quirk up, just a little, “but he won’t allow it to be official. So we have to hide in my bedroom when all I want is to hold his hand and make him breakfast and lunch and dinner.” You rest your head on your knees and look out onto the water, “What are your reasons?”
“There’s this girl that I love,” he admits, voice barely quivering at the last word. You force yourself not to look at him, but your knee presses harder against his. “And I want to give her a life that she deserves, a life that she had growing up. Where there’s food on the table everyday and she doesn’t have to worry that I won’t come home one day. Where our kids won’t have to fight for their life and people are honest to each other.”
“But?”
He sighs.
“But I fear we can’t have that life in Kirigakure.”
You swallow against the tears that are threatening to fall.
The waves keep crashing, like they’re stuck too, forced to come in again and again and again.
“Lonely water,” you sigh out the prayer your mother tought you, “Lonely water, won't you let us wander? Let us hold each other.”
Strong arms pull you in until your head is resting against his chest, his heartbeat loud and steady in your ear.
“Will you leave with me?” Kisame whispers into your ear.
You listen to his heartbeat that’s as steadfast as the waves and close your eyes.
“Yes.”