Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Blood in the Water ❯ 1 ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Camaxtli 
Girl meets boy. Girl fights boy. Girl meets weapon. Girl LOVES weapon. Boy takes weapon from girl. Endgame.
Anime/Manga: Naruto Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.14.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 3.2K | Visits: 612 | Status: Completed
Girl meets boy. Girl fights boy. Girl meets weapon. Girl LOVES weapon. Boy takes weapon from girl. Endgame.
Anime/Manga: Naruto Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 02.14.2006 | Pages: 1 | Words: 3.2K | Visits: 612 | Status: Completed
I'm out of chakra. My muscles tremble with weakness, I'm bleeding from a thousand cuts, I'm out of chakra. Out. He stands there laughing, that, that... Sword gripped in his hand. I hate him. I hate him more than I have ever hated anything or anyone before.
Samehada. Samehada, the shark-tooth blade. Samehada, companion of the beast. Samehada, final legacy of the biju that Kisame ate. You can call it just a sword, but you'd be lying. It lives. It hungers. I can feel it. With each drop of chakra, each dollop of blood that it drinks I can feel that damn blade grinning at me. If it weren't for the blade, I might be able to beat him. But then again, if it weren’t for the blade he would still be human.
What a laugh. Pretty, decorative Yamanka Ino is able to beat KISAME? It's the truth. Those who knew me before Hinata left might not believe it, but I've improved so much. I've stopped working at the shop, cut my hair, clothes, and make-up time to a third, and nearly stopped hanging out with friends altogether. I barely keep in touch anymore. What do I do with all that free time? I train. I train and train and train, even went so far to ask LEE for help. He's a nice guy, I admit, but... A bit too nice. And sometimes he can take things the wrong way… Why do so many ninja men think of training together as a date? Despite his many faults, he’s nearly unstoppable at hand-to-hand.
Why did I change like this? Hinata, to begin. I started hanging around with Hinata in the time that she started to change, and so I started to change. I made friends with her new friends, and they lived for their work. That crept into me. When she left, that still remained. Second, Sasuke. All the girls went after him like bitches in heat and I got dragged along in the overwhelming wake of their passion. When he left they stopped loving him and I got my own will back. I am proud. I will be the best. Third, Shikamaru. He loves me. I don’t love him, though he is my best friend. I can’t resist him at first, and when I do it hurts. Each time we break up I care a little bit less. I don’t care about anyone much anymore. Except, now, Kisame.
I hate Kisame with a burning passion. I hate him because he underestimated me in the start and I almost kicked his ass. I hate him for that crippling killing intent that meant I didn't. I hate him because I can't feel it anymore. I hate him for what that might mean. I hate him for his sword and the advantage it brings. I hate him for taking, absorbing, EATING a biju and becoming so powerful that I cannot hope to beat him. I hate him because he refuses to beat me. I hate him for not hating me. I hate him because I'm getting used to him. I hate him because he's not nearly as ugly as I thought. I hate him because he knows I think that. I hate him because he's infecting me. I hate him because he's not afraid. And neither am I. Most of all, I hate because I don't. All my hate has bled away. Why? Because he doesn’t hate me back.
He starts and I've already moved to intercept him. It's what's been keeping me alive for the last half an hour, already past the point of exhaustion. I know him better than I've known anyone before. Only ten minutes ago I hated him for that. I know when he's going to move, what he's going to do, and why he's going to do it. His fingers twitch and I've already got a kunai flying towards him, one to where he was and once to where he will be. He catches it with a laugh, in a small way defeated. And then we pause, actually pause, for the first time in two hours. Two hours of battle, of burning muscle and screaming pain, of watching my teammates die, slaughtered, of dancing an intricate fatal dance. I suddenly wonder what he sees.
Here I am, half a cat mask hanging off my face. Here I am, wearing the tatters of a jounin vest and an ANBU uniform. Here I am, panting, sweating, pushed past exhaustion. Here I am, beautiful. I can feel his thoughts moving in the same paths. I get it before he does. I flush just a bare moment before he gets it. He grins. I’m suddenly reminded that I havn’t had sex in a more than a month. Shikamaru hasn’t been able to find me in between missions. Kisame, stilling grinning, extends his arm. And drops his sword. No, he doesn't just drop it, he shoots it though the water into the ground. He starts walking towards me and shrugs off his robe, grin widening. It falls down with a splash. Shit. I could barely touch him before, if that damn cloak was weighted... For the first time I remember my own weights.
He doesn't seem to be going anywhere fast, so I take the chance to chuck my weights and take a soldier pill. I flush again as chakra fills me, tingling gently. I can feel Samehada, hungering but quiescent. It wants me, but it's willing to wait. She, she is willing to wait. Samehada is in some way female, though with no physical life. The knowledge is pure and compelling, I don’t, can’t, have any doubt. Kisame puts up his dukes, settling into a faintly ridiculous fighting pose. He’s taunting me; he's waiting for me to make the first move. I can't disappoint him.
It's a different battle entirely. We cut in and out of the lake, barely noticing the difference. He's stronger than me, much stronger, but Lee has done his job. I'm fast. And I know what he's going to do almost before he does. Geysers of mud are thrown up by impact, trees shatter under fists, the very earth cracks beneath our feat. I can feel a grin stretching my own lips. For the very first time I can feel why some people enjoy combat so much. I know I should disengage, I should run away from this psychotic brute. Your mission is so rarely more important that your life. Before, with my weights, I couldn't. Now I won't.
In the back of my mind I can feel reinforcements coming up. The ANBU who have come are horrified and amazed, the damage we’ve done is enormous. I feel a flicker of contempt, his, or mine I can't tell. It worries me that I can't. Then comes someone that I haven’t felt in ages, Hinata. Her gaze tingles as she watches us, appraising, approving, amused. Assuming things that are not. We’ve been fighting this long and no one has died, an obvious sign of flirting. She thinks it’s cute, or perhaps romantic. Anything but. We both stop at once, having flown too far apart. The first one to attack will be at a disadvantage, and neither is willing to give the other that. I quickly judge the weight of my pockets, seems I have one kunai left. I thought that I was out. I flick it towards his head and then we’re off.
It's slower this time, more thought out. We give each other enough room to use ninjutsu. We're bragging or performing, if there is a difference. The presences recede behind us, battling, and then I'm running out of chakra again. His is three quarters gone as well, but he's a monster. The quarter that he has left is almost half of mine. Even still I would have been fine if not for that damn sword... I get an idea. I can feel the ANBU faltering under Hinata's onslaught, so this is my only chance. If I have to fight her as well, I’m fucked. I duck back, dodge a dozen strikes and an ethereal shark, and dive for his sword. It's only when I catch it that I remember that it obeys no master but him.
That doesn't seem to make a difference. Maybe it’s not true, or maybe… I said before, I hated him because he's infecting me. It’s true. It's his joy of battle, but I've made it mine. It's his lust, blood and otherwise, at least I'd like to think. With a start I realize that it's his techniques I'm using, his style of combat, and his kind of strategy. It's because of him that I can finally match him. His mind and mine... It will fade in time, but for now I can barely tell the difference. My father warned me of this. It's why he couldn't fight Kyuubi. It's why my family is so stubborn, so arrogant, so demanding, and so mad. If their will is stronger than ours, our sensitivity is a weakness. We must be strong. It is our greatest fear, the fear of losing ourselves. Suddenly, for just a moment, I can hate him again. And just as suddenly I can't.
Samehada is surging into me, her mind invading me, a dozen tiny spines piercing my flesh and drinking my blood. My shock is only rivaled by Kisame’s. We pause again, leftover ninjutsu still crashing and battling, water dragons raging above the water and sharks tearing at each other in it. I take a deep breath, still underwater. I do not drown. And then the hunger hits me. I know now why Kisame is so psychotic. A monk could not resist that call.
I breathe in and quiver as a surge of chakra hits me. His sharks, my sharks, his dragons, my dragons, and from a hundred feet away a few fireballs, a few bunshin, a few of Hinata's jyuuken spikes, an earth jutsu, they all dissolve and hit me at once. I can taste them; I can tell both element and purpose. Each seal gives its own flavor, though that’s not the right word, subtle and complex sensations that compel you to take more. I could spend years lost in this sensation…
The feelings are overwhelming me, I can't think. Samehada is warm in my hands, I love her. Kisame is striding towards me on the water, his face fixed in that oh-so-funny panicked, shocked, yearning expression. I feel something deep inside my mind wriggle, shift and then I change forever, and I can smell him. Smell isn't the right word, as taste was not the word before. I have seven senses, I know this. The five that all men have, the sixth chakra sense that all ninja possess, and the seventh mind sense that is mine and my families alone. My sixth sense has color now. It has gone from simple pressure to texture, to heat, to... It cannot be described. Kisame is delicious.
I'm still disconnected as I begin to siphon his chakra. He had been doing the same to me, but stopped. He was enjoying me too much. In my haze I wonder how he had the strength of will. It's so good, so very very right, my knees are trembling but not with exhaustion, my balance is fading but not with dizziness, my body is failing me and I don't mind one bit. My grip on Samehada never slacks. Kisame is in range, and the last of my willpower, my honor, and my duty compels me. I must at least try to finish the mission, after all. I misjudge her weight, my partner my lover my soulmate my fondest dream (my worst nightmare says a tiny tiny voice) my weapon. That word will never be the same. He doesn't try to dodge, I don't hit hard enough. She bites lightly into the gap just above his last rib. I can taste his blood through her, copper-iron bitter-spicy delicious. I love it. Sometime later I might be afraid of that. He reaches down, grabs one of her spikes, sweet bitter-hot blood dripping down it like the lightning down my spine, and then snaps.
I feel a spike of rage and despair, despair at her injury and rage that he would dare. It vanishes as she tells me that she’s still there, that Samehada still is loving me and hungering for me and ripping my mind apart and putting it back together and making me for the very first time complete, and she speaks without words or image just pure refined thought that feels like the voice of angels and the breath of demons and the greatest meal and hard-won kill and all that is beautiful with no good or evil that is her, her to her core. She speaks to me, laughing under non-existent breath, telling me that she heals, that sharks always have another tooth. Relief washes over me. I open eyes that I never realized I closed and wonder how much time I lost.
Hinata is there, watching with fascination in those beautiful blank eyes. Her chakra is pure and intense, beautiful. She is my enemy, a traitor, but I can't help but love her. Samehada is safe. On the branch beside her lie six ANBU, only one dead. His legs are twisted and his neck is snapped. I know her tactics, her abilities, but I don't need to. I can almost see her memories, and can remember her feelings. She threw Jyuuken spikes, overdoing it since I ate the last volley(so delicious). She misses with half, he dodges the other half, but the last quarter strike home in his chakra points. He was dodging, jumping, chakra'd muscles and chakra'd agility letting him accomplish the casual impossibilities that characterize a ninja battle. When he landed on a branch, chakra flow cut off, reality quickly caught up with him.
His legs would have snapped like dry branches beneath a genins feet. I can't remember his name, though his mask is broken as well and I can see his face. Unable to support his weight, bones poking from his skin, he tumbles off to fall to the floor. Samehada wonders how his marrow would taste; I involuntary salivate, gulping and licking my lips. His face twisted into that mask of shock and pain, he would curl up around that agony, that very movements moving what should not move even more, causing him yet more pain. A small part of me, last holdout, wonders that the thought of his pain still repulses me. Samehada replies that we are a predator; the chase is joy and the battle is fun and the meat is sweet, and the pain is only to be regretted if they get away. Killing needs not be cruel. My last holdout is lost. Trapped in his pain he would not notice the ground approaching, inertia spinning him around and presenting the dead dry leaves his neck. There would be a sharp snap, I remember how suddenly his agony/terror just... Dissappeared. He would never even know he was dead.
Hinata watches me remember/imagine this, that once shy face now mobile and expressive. She smiles a dainty little smile as I lick my lips, then her brows furrow as she follows my gaze. She glances at me, mouth pursed in puzzlement at my lack of regret, then turns back to him with her tight-lipped regret. Her miniscule drama concluded, she looks back at me, at a spot before me. I wonder how I missed Kisame. Samehada smiles with me, her love for him and my flattered/fearful/fond feelings for that expression on his face, those feelings in his mind. He is shocked still, behind that a mix of jealousy and pride and lust(long after, I ask Hinata how I looked. She told me that I was so beautiful and so strange, that with my joy/love/pride(a thousand different things) I very nearly glowed) and more. Deep down, an unquashable hope(someone that knows, that understands, that feels what you feel and knows not to judge) and an unfamiliar almost kinship, a yearning for something that just might be, for someone who just might be, and a despair that he might must stop it from ever being.
Hinata is happy for him, and sad for what he will do, and thoughtful about what that might change. Her face reflects it so well, is so very unbearably expressive, so very different from what it once was that I can't help but watch her. Perhaps it's that I feel so strong (what I feel I don't know) that I can barely glance at him. It flashes through my mind that if I did not have my bloodline that I would love to play poker with her. As is, it's no contest. Nobody will/would let me play. I can feel them, without even seeing it I can tell them their hand. My thoughts break as he takes my hand, Samehada's tiny spines breaking through my skin to join her to him, him to me, as me to her. The connection is so intense on my side that I can feel the shape of his life and how it made him. I can feel things clicking, fusing, changing in me. Even in time, when I am me and just me again, I will not be. Just a little bit, I will always be him. Through our connection I can feel him pick up just a little bit of me. Samehada approves. Hinata gasps in awe; I can only imagine what our chakra is doing.
He raises the tooth, that part of Samehada that he took, the evidence of a crime that just now I cannot imagine how anyone could make. I'm afraid now, Samehada is enraged, and Kisame is bitter/loving/lusting but most of all firm. Unstoppable. I struggle but it's too late, my legs are trapped in his own and my blows on his back don't phase him and he slowly cuts down my face. He works quickly, firmly, cutting small slivers off of my face. Hinata's face lights up in understanding. After a moment, I can feel the pattern too. He's scarring me. He's giving me his gills. He's marking me as his own. I can't find it in myself to regret that, though the method he's chosen is bad. When he is done he drops the knife and grabs my hand and kisses me, hard. I bite his tongue. He nips my lips. He licks the wounds free of blood, sending me bursts of chakra that heal them instantly into scars. When he is done, he gazes at me, his face for once unreadable, then signals Hinata. She raises her hand, chakra swirling in her palm, then it shoots towards me and it all goes dark. As I faint, I feel the tooth jerk into my ribs. He leaves it there. It's the last thing I know.
Samehada. Samehada, the shark-tooth blade. Samehada, companion of the beast. Samehada, final legacy of the biju that Kisame ate. You can call it just a sword, but you'd be lying. It lives. It hungers. I can feel it. With each drop of chakra, each dollop of blood that it drinks I can feel that damn blade grinning at me. If it weren't for the blade, I might be able to beat him. But then again, if it weren’t for the blade he would still be human.
What a laugh. Pretty, decorative Yamanka Ino is able to beat KISAME? It's the truth. Those who knew me before Hinata left might not believe it, but I've improved so much. I've stopped working at the shop, cut my hair, clothes, and make-up time to a third, and nearly stopped hanging out with friends altogether. I barely keep in touch anymore. What do I do with all that free time? I train. I train and train and train, even went so far to ask LEE for help. He's a nice guy, I admit, but... A bit too nice. And sometimes he can take things the wrong way… Why do so many ninja men think of training together as a date? Despite his many faults, he’s nearly unstoppable at hand-to-hand.
Why did I change like this? Hinata, to begin. I started hanging around with Hinata in the time that she started to change, and so I started to change. I made friends with her new friends, and they lived for their work. That crept into me. When she left, that still remained. Second, Sasuke. All the girls went after him like bitches in heat and I got dragged along in the overwhelming wake of their passion. When he left they stopped loving him and I got my own will back. I am proud. I will be the best. Third, Shikamaru. He loves me. I don’t love him, though he is my best friend. I can’t resist him at first, and when I do it hurts. Each time we break up I care a little bit less. I don’t care about anyone much anymore. Except, now, Kisame.
I hate Kisame with a burning passion. I hate him because he underestimated me in the start and I almost kicked his ass. I hate him for that crippling killing intent that meant I didn't. I hate him because I can't feel it anymore. I hate him for what that might mean. I hate him for his sword and the advantage it brings. I hate him for taking, absorbing, EATING a biju and becoming so powerful that I cannot hope to beat him. I hate him because he refuses to beat me. I hate him for not hating me. I hate him because I'm getting used to him. I hate him because he's not nearly as ugly as I thought. I hate him because he knows I think that. I hate him because he's infecting me. I hate him because he's not afraid. And neither am I. Most of all, I hate because I don't. All my hate has bled away. Why? Because he doesn’t hate me back.
He starts and I've already moved to intercept him. It's what's been keeping me alive for the last half an hour, already past the point of exhaustion. I know him better than I've known anyone before. Only ten minutes ago I hated him for that. I know when he's going to move, what he's going to do, and why he's going to do it. His fingers twitch and I've already got a kunai flying towards him, one to where he was and once to where he will be. He catches it with a laugh, in a small way defeated. And then we pause, actually pause, for the first time in two hours. Two hours of battle, of burning muscle and screaming pain, of watching my teammates die, slaughtered, of dancing an intricate fatal dance. I suddenly wonder what he sees.
Here I am, half a cat mask hanging off my face. Here I am, wearing the tatters of a jounin vest and an ANBU uniform. Here I am, panting, sweating, pushed past exhaustion. Here I am, beautiful. I can feel his thoughts moving in the same paths. I get it before he does. I flush just a bare moment before he gets it. He grins. I’m suddenly reminded that I havn’t had sex in a more than a month. Shikamaru hasn’t been able to find me in between missions. Kisame, stilling grinning, extends his arm. And drops his sword. No, he doesn't just drop it, he shoots it though the water into the ground. He starts walking towards me and shrugs off his robe, grin widening. It falls down with a splash. Shit. I could barely touch him before, if that damn cloak was weighted... For the first time I remember my own weights.
He doesn't seem to be going anywhere fast, so I take the chance to chuck my weights and take a soldier pill. I flush again as chakra fills me, tingling gently. I can feel Samehada, hungering but quiescent. It wants me, but it's willing to wait. She, she is willing to wait. Samehada is in some way female, though with no physical life. The knowledge is pure and compelling, I don’t, can’t, have any doubt. Kisame puts up his dukes, settling into a faintly ridiculous fighting pose. He’s taunting me; he's waiting for me to make the first move. I can't disappoint him.
It's a different battle entirely. We cut in and out of the lake, barely noticing the difference. He's stronger than me, much stronger, but Lee has done his job. I'm fast. And I know what he's going to do almost before he does. Geysers of mud are thrown up by impact, trees shatter under fists, the very earth cracks beneath our feat. I can feel a grin stretching my own lips. For the very first time I can feel why some people enjoy combat so much. I know I should disengage, I should run away from this psychotic brute. Your mission is so rarely more important that your life. Before, with my weights, I couldn't. Now I won't.
In the back of my mind I can feel reinforcements coming up. The ANBU who have come are horrified and amazed, the damage we’ve done is enormous. I feel a flicker of contempt, his, or mine I can't tell. It worries me that I can't. Then comes someone that I haven’t felt in ages, Hinata. Her gaze tingles as she watches us, appraising, approving, amused. Assuming things that are not. We’ve been fighting this long and no one has died, an obvious sign of flirting. She thinks it’s cute, or perhaps romantic. Anything but. We both stop at once, having flown too far apart. The first one to attack will be at a disadvantage, and neither is willing to give the other that. I quickly judge the weight of my pockets, seems I have one kunai left. I thought that I was out. I flick it towards his head and then we’re off.
It's slower this time, more thought out. We give each other enough room to use ninjutsu. We're bragging or performing, if there is a difference. The presences recede behind us, battling, and then I'm running out of chakra again. His is three quarters gone as well, but he's a monster. The quarter that he has left is almost half of mine. Even still I would have been fine if not for that damn sword... I get an idea. I can feel the ANBU faltering under Hinata's onslaught, so this is my only chance. If I have to fight her as well, I’m fucked. I duck back, dodge a dozen strikes and an ethereal shark, and dive for his sword. It's only when I catch it that I remember that it obeys no master but him.
That doesn't seem to make a difference. Maybe it’s not true, or maybe… I said before, I hated him because he's infecting me. It’s true. It's his joy of battle, but I've made it mine. It's his lust, blood and otherwise, at least I'd like to think. With a start I realize that it's his techniques I'm using, his style of combat, and his kind of strategy. It's because of him that I can finally match him. His mind and mine... It will fade in time, but for now I can barely tell the difference. My father warned me of this. It's why he couldn't fight Kyuubi. It's why my family is so stubborn, so arrogant, so demanding, and so mad. If their will is stronger than ours, our sensitivity is a weakness. We must be strong. It is our greatest fear, the fear of losing ourselves. Suddenly, for just a moment, I can hate him again. And just as suddenly I can't.
Samehada is surging into me, her mind invading me, a dozen tiny spines piercing my flesh and drinking my blood. My shock is only rivaled by Kisame’s. We pause again, leftover ninjutsu still crashing and battling, water dragons raging above the water and sharks tearing at each other in it. I take a deep breath, still underwater. I do not drown. And then the hunger hits me. I know now why Kisame is so psychotic. A monk could not resist that call.
I breathe in and quiver as a surge of chakra hits me. His sharks, my sharks, his dragons, my dragons, and from a hundred feet away a few fireballs, a few bunshin, a few of Hinata's jyuuken spikes, an earth jutsu, they all dissolve and hit me at once. I can taste them; I can tell both element and purpose. Each seal gives its own flavor, though that’s not the right word, subtle and complex sensations that compel you to take more. I could spend years lost in this sensation…
The feelings are overwhelming me, I can't think. Samehada is warm in my hands, I love her. Kisame is striding towards me on the water, his face fixed in that oh-so-funny panicked, shocked, yearning expression. I feel something deep inside my mind wriggle, shift and then I change forever, and I can smell him. Smell isn't the right word, as taste was not the word before. I have seven senses, I know this. The five that all men have, the sixth chakra sense that all ninja possess, and the seventh mind sense that is mine and my families alone. My sixth sense has color now. It has gone from simple pressure to texture, to heat, to... It cannot be described. Kisame is delicious.
I'm still disconnected as I begin to siphon his chakra. He had been doing the same to me, but stopped. He was enjoying me too much. In my haze I wonder how he had the strength of will. It's so good, so very very right, my knees are trembling but not with exhaustion, my balance is fading but not with dizziness, my body is failing me and I don't mind one bit. My grip on Samehada never slacks. Kisame is in range, and the last of my willpower, my honor, and my duty compels me. I must at least try to finish the mission, after all. I misjudge her weight, my partner my lover my soulmate my fondest dream (my worst nightmare says a tiny tiny voice) my weapon. That word will never be the same. He doesn't try to dodge, I don't hit hard enough. She bites lightly into the gap just above his last rib. I can taste his blood through her, copper-iron bitter-spicy delicious. I love it. Sometime later I might be afraid of that. He reaches down, grabs one of her spikes, sweet bitter-hot blood dripping down it like the lightning down my spine, and then snaps.
I feel a spike of rage and despair, despair at her injury and rage that he would dare. It vanishes as she tells me that she’s still there, that Samehada still is loving me and hungering for me and ripping my mind apart and putting it back together and making me for the very first time complete, and she speaks without words or image just pure refined thought that feels like the voice of angels and the breath of demons and the greatest meal and hard-won kill and all that is beautiful with no good or evil that is her, her to her core. She speaks to me, laughing under non-existent breath, telling me that she heals, that sharks always have another tooth. Relief washes over me. I open eyes that I never realized I closed and wonder how much time I lost.
Hinata is there, watching with fascination in those beautiful blank eyes. Her chakra is pure and intense, beautiful. She is my enemy, a traitor, but I can't help but love her. Samehada is safe. On the branch beside her lie six ANBU, only one dead. His legs are twisted and his neck is snapped. I know her tactics, her abilities, but I don't need to. I can almost see her memories, and can remember her feelings. She threw Jyuuken spikes, overdoing it since I ate the last volley(so delicious). She misses with half, he dodges the other half, but the last quarter strike home in his chakra points. He was dodging, jumping, chakra'd muscles and chakra'd agility letting him accomplish the casual impossibilities that characterize a ninja battle. When he landed on a branch, chakra flow cut off, reality quickly caught up with him.
His legs would have snapped like dry branches beneath a genins feet. I can't remember his name, though his mask is broken as well and I can see his face. Unable to support his weight, bones poking from his skin, he tumbles off to fall to the floor. Samehada wonders how his marrow would taste; I involuntary salivate, gulping and licking my lips. His face twisted into that mask of shock and pain, he would curl up around that agony, that very movements moving what should not move even more, causing him yet more pain. A small part of me, last holdout, wonders that the thought of his pain still repulses me. Samehada replies that we are a predator; the chase is joy and the battle is fun and the meat is sweet, and the pain is only to be regretted if they get away. Killing needs not be cruel. My last holdout is lost. Trapped in his pain he would not notice the ground approaching, inertia spinning him around and presenting the dead dry leaves his neck. There would be a sharp snap, I remember how suddenly his agony/terror just... Dissappeared. He would never even know he was dead.
Hinata watches me remember/imagine this, that once shy face now mobile and expressive. She smiles a dainty little smile as I lick my lips, then her brows furrow as she follows my gaze. She glances at me, mouth pursed in puzzlement at my lack of regret, then turns back to him with her tight-lipped regret. Her miniscule drama concluded, she looks back at me, at a spot before me. I wonder how I missed Kisame. Samehada smiles with me, her love for him and my flattered/fearful/fond feelings for that expression on his face, those feelings in his mind. He is shocked still, behind that a mix of jealousy and pride and lust(long after, I ask Hinata how I looked. She told me that I was so beautiful and so strange, that with my joy/love/pride(a thousand different things) I very nearly glowed) and more. Deep down, an unquashable hope(someone that knows, that understands, that feels what you feel and knows not to judge) and an unfamiliar almost kinship, a yearning for something that just might be, for someone who just might be, and a despair that he might must stop it from ever being.
Hinata is happy for him, and sad for what he will do, and thoughtful about what that might change. Her face reflects it so well, is so very unbearably expressive, so very different from what it once was that I can't help but watch her. Perhaps it's that I feel so strong (what I feel I don't know) that I can barely glance at him. It flashes through my mind that if I did not have my bloodline that I would love to play poker with her. As is, it's no contest. Nobody will/would let me play. I can feel them, without even seeing it I can tell them their hand. My thoughts break as he takes my hand, Samehada's tiny spines breaking through my skin to join her to him, him to me, as me to her. The connection is so intense on my side that I can feel the shape of his life and how it made him. I can feel things clicking, fusing, changing in me. Even in time, when I am me and just me again, I will not be. Just a little bit, I will always be him. Through our connection I can feel him pick up just a little bit of me. Samehada approves. Hinata gasps in awe; I can only imagine what our chakra is doing.
He raises the tooth, that part of Samehada that he took, the evidence of a crime that just now I cannot imagine how anyone could make. I'm afraid now, Samehada is enraged, and Kisame is bitter/loving/lusting but most of all firm. Unstoppable. I struggle but it's too late, my legs are trapped in his own and my blows on his back don't phase him and he slowly cuts down my face. He works quickly, firmly, cutting small slivers off of my face. Hinata's face lights up in understanding. After a moment, I can feel the pattern too. He's scarring me. He's giving me his gills. He's marking me as his own. I can't find it in myself to regret that, though the method he's chosen is bad. When he is done he drops the knife and grabs my hand and kisses me, hard. I bite his tongue. He nips my lips. He licks the wounds free of blood, sending me bursts of chakra that heal them instantly into scars. When he is done, he gazes at me, his face for once unreadable, then signals Hinata. She raises her hand, chakra swirling in her palm, then it shoots towards me and it all goes dark. As I faint, I feel the tooth jerk into my ribs. He leaves it there. It's the last thing I know.