A/N: So it's been a while, yeah? This little nugget has been floating around for ages and I never really did anything with it. But for some reason (which I have yet to suss out,) I really love The Principal of Drowning and I wanted to continue Kagome and Kisame's story.

Voila, the result.

I don't know how long it's going to be, or how frequently I'll be updating, but please bear with me! I hope to make it all worth it. ^_^

Edited: 05/12/16

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, I don't own InuYasha.

Chapter 1

Spark

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"I'm sure you're curious as to why I've gathered you all here, today." The Leader spoke from the shadows.

Kisame shifted restlessly in his spot against the wall, but said nothing. The Leader was always full of rhetorical questions—as if it somehow added to his mystique…

As if hiding amongst the shadows wasn't cheesy enough.

"While you have all been very diligent with your current assignments, this meeting today has been called for a different reason. Something very curious has piqued my attention, and I require you all to put forth your best efforts into acquiring it for me."

"Procuring what, un?" Deidara pumped up, his normal energy somewhat muted in the presence of their mysterious leader.

"Not what, I should say…" Leader trailed off for a very dramatic pause. "But who."

Beside him, Kisame felt more than saw Itachi stiffen. It wasn't often that the Uchiha involuntarily reacted to his surroundings, but recently it was becoming more and more the norm. He knew the Konoha nuke-nin had many things on his mind at any given time, but the irregularities in his behaviour were disconcerting. Kisame idly wondered if the Leader was going to bring up the last surviving Uchiha.

"There is a woman," Leader continued, "A rogue of sorts, wandering the countryside."

Kisame's right temple began to develop a tick along with the promise of an oncoming headache from deep within his skull. The mention of women always prompted that reaction, like painful muscle memory.

Such troublesome creatures, he mused. Hopefully this wasn't going to be some dumb mission that required his undivided attention.

"My sources have informed me that she is in the possession of a very powerful artifact of great repute and legend. I require you to find this woman, and bring her to me. Alive or dead, she will be of no use to me once I have the artifact within my grasp. In the interim, ensure she is captures and brought to me alive. Do not attempt to search for or remove the artifact from her person."

The Leader paused with finality this time, his eyes shining eerily in the darkness as he gazed solemnly at the ninja assembled before him. "That will be all."

Kisame followed Itachi as he walked through the forest, staring contemplatively at the soles of his partner's sandals.

The leaves were turning the brilliant colours of fire as the seasons transitioned towards winter. This area reminded him of something…but what? Konoha would be right in the middle of their annual celebration of the Changing Leaves, and Kisame had a sudden craving for their Fire famous dango.

"I have heard rumours of the woman we now seek," Itachi said quietly—so quietly in fact, that Kisame would have missed it entirely if his partner had not also stopped walking rather abruptly.

"I'm having the oddest sense of deja-vu," Kisame quipped.

Itachi turned, giving him a stony look, but dipped his head in agreement nonetheless. "We have encountered this woman before. Just over a year ago, in the early summer."

Kisame closed his eyes, searching his memory. Not many things seemed to stick around in his head unless they were important enough that he deemed them worth remembering…but a woman? Kisame made a sound that was a mix between a chuckle and a tut.

No faces, no names. That was his rule.

But then…

"Wasn't that around the time you hit your head…said you were suffering from short term memory loss?" Kisame snapped his fingers.

"Correct."

"Something attacked us." Kisame recalled, rubbing idly at his temple. The tick was back. "I remember waking up on my back, beside you. We'd clearly been in a fight, but no one else was around. It was north of here, outside Konoha, wasn't it?"

"I do not recall," Itachi said after a long moment. "I had someone look into our travels around that time, and the report confirmed that we were last seen heading in a similar direction in the company of a long, dark-haired woman dressed in a plain summer kimono."

"A civilian?"

"Perhaps." the Uchiha allowed. "I believe it was the same woman we have now been reassigned to locate."

"There are probably a million women in this world with dark hair and a summer kimono," Kisame scoffed. "Why her?"

"I can think of no one we would have allowed to escape." Itachi's last word was almost a hiss. "None who could have possibly appeared as a companion…"

"But why would we have been travelling with her?" Kisame shook his head. "Something still doesn't add up."

"We only need to find her before the others to solve this gap." Itachi concluded brusquely. "That will be the way to find all answers we seek."

With that, he turned and continued walking. Kisame stared at his retreating back a moment before turning to follow, grumbling under his breath about Uhciha's and their psychic prowess.

Later that night, as Kisame lay across the fire from his partner, memories of a long dark-haired woman in a summer kimono with bright eyes danced through his mind.

She was faceless—and voiceless—but he watched her walk ahead of them, her hair swaying hypnotically with her stride. She would occasionally glance back to ask something of him, but his answers were lost too.

She would curl up across from him, staring deep into the fire, before she'd glance coyly up and their eyes would meet. Her gaze reflected the dancing flames, mesmerizing him as easily as the sway of her hair.

The most troubling dream was the foggiest of all.

It began in a cave. He cradled her fragile body ever-so-gently, afraid it would break if he jostled her. He felt the familiar, slimy coating of blood on his hands, and he knew without looking that it was hers. Her arm and her side were bleeding freely, soaking his hands, her kimono, his pants. Lightning cracked sharply in the distance, and slowly her eyes opened to meet his, calm and unaware of her injuries. He couldn't look anywhere else as she stared up at him, so instead he memorized the way her dark bangs fell across her forehead, tracing across to her temples.

Then the dream shifted, and they were no longer in the cave. She was reaching up to return his embrace, pressed tightly against his chest. He held her as close as possible, revealing in the heat of her skin and remembering it so vividly that he could have sworn it wasn't a dream at all. But then she pulled away from him, soft, sorrowful words falling from her lips that he couldn't understand—and then all of a sudden he was frozen, unable to move.

She was walking away. Leaving him, in a clearing in some forest. She didn't turn back to look, and she didn't say anything else. She disappeared into the shadows of the tree-line, heedless of his struggles to recapture her attention.

As they weaved their way through the crowded city streets of Konoha with the cushion of the most elaborate genjutsu Itachi could prepare, Kisame felt sorely out of place.

Every time someone brushed against him, he had to restrain himself from reaching out with the sharpest thing at his fingertips. There were far too many people in such a restricted space for his tastes. All he wanted was some goddamn dango.

"Here," Itachi materialized at his side like a ghost, a stick of the delicious treat in hand. "The girl is near, I can feel it."

"What?" Kisame mumbled eloquently around a mouthful of half-chewed food. "How?"

"It is familiar," Itachi shrugged. Kisame raised an eyebrow at the gesture, but didn't interrupt. "I can feel it on my skin, like an electrical current."

Kisame stopped chewing for a moment, searching for the sensation that Itachi was trying to describe. The feeling of the hairs on his arm positively crawling…he'd written it off as being cautious about being in the middle of a city of ninjas sworn to attack and kill on sight, protected by nothing more than an illusion, being surrounded by dozens upon dozens of snobby, uppity, sticky—whatthefuck—

But no, he realized. It was there. The harder Kisame focused, the easier it was to find. It was a steady hum, like listening to a live electrical current.

"It's everywhere," Kisame grumbled, glancing around as he finished of the last of his stick. "How are we supposed to pinpoint it?"

"I have the feeling that won't be necessary." Itachi said slowly, his attention elsewhere. "Look."

Kisame followed Itachi's line of sight to the end of the street. At the end in a small courtyard of sorts, a small dais was set up to serve as a stage. A small crowd had gathered, clapping appreciatively as a trio was stepping down. A small statured woman took their place, holding a magnificent white coral shamisen. Without words, she began to play a hauntingly sweet melody, soothing and melancholy all at once. Her dark hair fluttered softly on the breeze, leaves carried in from the forest outside fluttering gently through the streets.

There was a nagging sense of familiarity about the sweep of her bangs, Kisame grudgingly noted.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the woman's gaze lifted from her instrument, dancing across the crowd as she plucked the strings until it came to rest on him. Her eyes—a crisp, brilliant blue, like the autumn sky—seemed to glitter with understanding; with the firelight from his dream.

In that instant, Kisame knew.

"That's her?!"