Characters: Yugao, Shisui
Summary: Mizu no Kuni doesn't really agree with Yugao.
Pairings: Shisui x Yugao
Author's Note: Aren't crack pairings grand? And as a note, Yugao is not an OC; she was Hayate's girlfriend.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
He's two years younger than she is and he's not even in ANBU, but still, it's Yugao who ends up violently ill, down on her knees at the misty tree line—Mizu no Kuni is surrounded by an enveloping mist of fog, always.
Yugao has ripped her mask off to keep from aspirating, long, pale fingers webbing over her foam- and bile-flecked mouth between attacks. At home, there's nothing that can truly sicken her, not even Hayate's horrifying fits, but the smell of death and putrefaction on the shores of an even rainier land than Hi no Kuni is enough to turn even her stomach.
Beyond, the assorted ANBU and jonin root with eerie slowness through the bodies of Kiri nin, ghosts and wraiths in the fog. A crow's hard, raucous cry can be heard breaking in the distance, then another, then another. They'll have a rich feast when the company of Leaf nin are done scavenging. A ninken has already begun to tear greedily into a corpse; its master doesn't even try to stop it.
"You alright?" The voice that filters over now is absurdly light and unburdened for the setting, though Yugao is later to learn that the boy was responsible for most of the corpses decaying and devoured on the killing field beyond. His hands don't look like hands made for killing.
The boy in non-descript garb, seemingly colorless in the mist—Yugao has long since ceased to be able to tell the time in this strange land—drops to his knees in the perpetually dewy grass beside her, putting a hand to her back. Yugao stiffens immediately, but the boy ignores it, no doubt chalking it up to an ANBU's hyper-cautious conditioning.
He smiles, lowering his unnaturally loud—echoing, resonant—voice. How can he smile? Yugao muses, wondering at the flash of teeth and the bizarre cheer emanating from him; it's uncanny, unnatural. How?
"I was kind of under the impression that most ANBU were a bit stronger in the stomach than this," he points out teasingly, and Yugao is too week in the limbs to glare at him. "Your tattoo's not fresh; you're not new to this, I'm sure." Truth be told, Yugao was virtually raised by the ANBU and her induction, eight years past, seems like a hazy dream. All that's fallen abruptly from her now.
Her stomach and throat convulse again and Yugao doubles over, retching; the boy leans over and pulls a lock of hair away from her face, and Yugao is taken aback by the gentleness of the gesture.
"I know this isn't the best time for introductions—" his voice fades in and out like a foghorn "—but I'm Uchiha Shisui." Yugao is unsurprised, having seen that head of curling black hair. "And you—" Shisui retrieves Yugao's mask from a tree trunk, examines it, and laughs softly "—are another Neko-san, am I correct?" he asks, holding the mask so Yugao can see the black cat face staring back at her.
Sitting up, she nods, putting a hand to her stomach and praying she won't be sick again; her stomach certainly feels empty. Yugao finds it interesting that he doesn't ask for her real name; interesting and relieving. "Forgive me," Yugao whispers in a raw voice, "I got here a little late. I'm assuming we won?"
Round black eyes widen. "Wow," Shisui mutters, "an ANBU who actually talks on-duty." Shaking his head, his eyes clear, and this time, his grin seems more than a little hollow. "Yeah, we won. We're not running through the trees, are we?"
Yugao shakes her head silently, not entirely sure how to react to his joke.
"God, you're just as bad as my cousin." By that Yugao supposes Shisui means Itachi; she knows the younger boy, if not very well.
He uncorks his water bottle and hands some of it to her. "Come on, you'd best drink some of that. It'll get the taste out of your mouth and clean your teeth until you can get to some mouthwash. Pretty girls need to take care of their teeth," he adds, waggling his eyebrows suggestively; Yugao muses that she would probably blush right about now if she hadn't been taught how to suppress that instinct.
As she raises the bottle to her lips, Shisui says, somewhat primly, "Swish it around and spit before you swallow anything."
Yugao shoots a dull glare up at him. "I know how to do this, Uchiha-san."
He holds his hands up defensively. "Okay, okay, don't lose your head."
When she's done, and hands the bottle back to him, Yugao blinks and asks, "How long have you been here, Uchiha-san?"
The younger boy shrugs. "Just a couple of months. Sadly, I will likely be out here for a while longer before I can go home; no one ever said duty to our country was pleasurable, right?"
It's a rhetorical question and as such, Yugao doesn't answer, instead staring out at the field. If her captain catches her with her mask off, she's not entirely sure she wants to know how he'd react; it's against regulation for a Konoha ANBU to take their mask off while on duty.
Someone calls from the field, and Shisui stands, eyes clouding. "Listen, Neko-san—" still calling her by the identification of her mask "—I've gotta head out. See you on the next battlefield, I guess; it'll be hard to miss all that purple hair." He tugs on a strand of her hair with slightly disconcerting familiarity.
The Uchiha is gone in an instant, and Yugao pulls her mask back on as she stands, still weak-stomached. She has funerals to help arrange.
What an odd boy. Especially for an Uchiha.