A/N: It occurred to me part of the reason I'm having so much trouble with the next chapter of The Hurricane and the Thunderstorm is the fact that for some reason the children who he helps from the fishing village, morphed into a larger role than I had intended. It made me want to write about Sasuke's interaction with them and what he was really up too, i.e. me actually writing about Sasuke as a fisherman XD.

Fishing Days will be a collection of drabbles. As always, Enjoy.

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Karin wasn't sure what to make of the brooding form standing before her gazing ever so pensively out of the window at the setting sun. She looked around her at the meager accommodations and thought of the small, smelly village she had passed through just to reach him. Was he trying to punish himself? She didn't understand. He was so much better than what he had resigned himself to be.

He hadn't said anything throughout her whole report of what she'd found out about Madara's plans and the progress with the Akatsuki. She had detailed and elaborated what Madara had needed her skills for, and the fact that Suigetsu challenged and attacked Kisame every other day. Or how the pale skinned mist-nin had disappeared for several weeks to train himself after Kisame had given him a particularly brutal beating one bright sunny morning. The only thing he'd seemed interested in was the fact that the older Uchiha was not going to pursue Sasuke to rejoin his ranks. She could tell he was relieved by that.

Despite her slow understanding of Sasuke's minimal facial expressions, Karin wanted desperately to know what he was thinking now, with that far off look he got more often than not. The look, even though he was backing her; she could tell that he was wearing that look now. She had to restrain her urge to run her hand through his hair, and smooth the creases from his forehead when his brow furrowed in just that certain way, that made her think he was having tortured thoughts. If only he would let her get close.

It had become increasingly clear to Karin that Sasuke grew more despondent the closer they travelled to the Fire Country. In Sasuke's case this meant that he became even less amicable, something she was sure was witnessed by few living souls. It was the only thing that could explain his present mood, and the painstaking meandering path he chose to avoid his old home country, crossing only where paths would take him furthest from Konoha. Karin supposed being in Fire Country itself was cause for his unease and was glad they were a few days away from Tea Country, she had a feeling that a change of scenery was definitely in need.

"You shouldn't wear that cloak when you come here." His voice broke the silence and she was startled from her musings, realizing that he must have noticed her unintentional staring at the back of his head.

Karin suppressed the embarrassed flush she could feel burning her face and looked over herself, surveying the said apparel. Her eyes took in the wispy, blood red in coiling swirls over fathomless black. The design held many meanings to different people, but all that came to Karin's mind was how comfortable the material was. Without realizing, she had grown so accustomed to wearing it that she hadn't even been aware of the billowing cloth. Though now that the notion was brought to her attention she understood Sasuke's concern, the Five Great Ninja Villages were very aware of the Akatsuki now, and it would be unwise to draw their attention un-necessarily. He hadn't said as much, but this is what Karin came to assume.

Karin thought that Sasuke was always so practical about such things, and saw situations uninhibited by emotional attachment, that was one of the things she admired strongly about him, aside from the fact that he was beautiful. She was sure that his cold calculation of situations was misunderstood by Konoha, and why he must have been forced to seek Master Orochimaru's guidance to improve.

How could Karin know or understand that it was the strongest of emotions that was Sasuke's fuel and driving force. Love and hatred, fear and anger, the same feelings that pained him to see those haunting colors of the Akatsuki cloak. Colors he wished he would never see in his waking hours again. His nightmares were enough.

Those colors swarmed his mind at night, like a plague. Always swallowing everything he touched in red, engulfing all that knew or would. The shadowy images never always un-nerved him, and he'd try to turn away. A masked face, a streak of blonde, a flutter of pink, he refused to acknowledge them, to do so was their death, he told himself he stayed away to keep them safe. But the one image that would always force him to trembling consciousness with a crushing weight on his heart, was always the soft smiling face, index poking his forehead, tenderly, gently whispering.

"Sorry Sasuke, some other time."

Karin never stopped him, from walking away.

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A/N: I really should be working on The Hurricane and the Thunderstorm.