Since the next couple of chapters are concerned mainly with domestic "bliss" and have a slight dearth of action I've decided to post two of them this week. That and I'm buried at work and trying to finish/start a couple of other pieces so I might not have a lot of time next week for this story.
Que sera.
N.B.: The letter at the end of the chapter may seem a bit odd and/or flowery and/or old fashioned but I am attempting (emphasis on attempting) to recreate the general epistolary conventions followed in most formal Japanese letters. If you've ever had a pen-friend in Japan or had a friendly correspondence with someone from Japan you may know what I'm getting at here. It's a little hard to put in English syntax.
Disclaimers as in chapter 1
Enjoy!
The year passed slowly. The first two months were spent on the seemingly interminable border patrol in the bucolic eastern regions. The picturesque fishing hamlets set on high sea-bluffs had known no violence save for that of winter storms for thirty years. They smiled and bowed generally made Kisame want to bang his head against a rock, additionally, having to do every item of grunt work Ao could dream up nearly drove him mad. Samehada grew so bored and complacent that he could have sworn the damn thing was asleep half the time. He remembered thinking he could hear the sword snoring softly on more than one occasion.
Worse, by the time they got back peace had broken out in the last of the renegade northern villages. A meeting of the Seven Swords was convened. Three of them, including himself and the newly initiated Zabuza wanted to head to the mainland. There were rumors of tensions between some of the smaller nations; perhaps they could sell their skills there. The other four vetoed the idea, saying that it was dishonorable for a group from an established village in one of the five Great Shinobi countries to go on bended knee to foreigners. Let those nations come to them if they wanted mercenaries said the rest of the Seven Swords. Zabuza had demanded to know what honor there was in sitting around going soft and was roundly upbraided for his insolence. Kisame tacitly agreed but let his younger counterpart take the heat.
He volunteered for another patrol, to the north and the northern islands this time in hopes that there might still be a few pockets of resistance. Zabuza went with him. They were not disappointed, though the renegades were depressingly ill equipped and generally in very poor condition. It almost made him feel bad as he surveyed the carnage their group wrought, almost. With nothing better to do he took the opportunity provided to discreetly grill Momochi about his cousin.
The boy didn't know much and most of what he did remember only served to confirm what Kisame had already gleaned.
Her parents had been killed when she was small. She had been taken in by her older sister, who apparently made fantastic dumplings, and her husband. She was considered the family disappointment, strong but wayward. She constantly got into trouble or behaved strangely. Allegedly she had been devastated by having to kill her friend in the graduation exam, had cried even, and still left offerings at the temple for the other girl's spirit. Zabuza was, predictably, baffled and more than a little contemptuous by such softness.
It was widely believed by the cousins that she had been posted to the hunter-nin squads as a favor to a respected aunt. The aunt saw the work as a way of both toughening the girl up and getting her out of the village before anyone else noticed her appalling sentimentality. Though even Zabuza had to admit, after some thought, that she had a few, fairly high powered weather and tracking jutsus that he wouldn't mind learning. Not that he would ever actually ask her. He made a point of staying away from her, lest the aura of general disappointment and disapproval that had attached itself to her stain him. One of these days, Kisame had thought, Mr. Overachieving Momochi was going to really snap. He rather hoped he would be there to see it.
The patrol whittled off three more months but still felt an oddly desolate sensation creeping up his spine at the thought of all the empty time before him.
He was horny enough to consider taking up with some other shinobi just to sand the edge off. When his initial efforts in that direction proved disappointing he took to violence and began volunteering for every protection mission on offer, the more hazardous the better. Unfortunately that was only a temporary fix, word spread fast that the worryingly carnivorous looking bodyguard from Kiri had an even more worrisome habit of dismembering potential threats first and questioning them later, regardless of what his employer might be doing, including throwing a fancy dinner party. That had been awkward; Kisame had to admit, especially when the dead man turned out to be a delivery boy bringing the lady of the house an illicit correspondence from her lover. Mostly he trained. And then, with two months to go before he could start reasonably harassing the Mizukage about recalling Her a letter came.
A courier handed it to him with trembling hands one afternoon on the training grounds. Seeing that it came on paper marked with Kiri's diplomatic seal; posted from the Sea Country he didn't even bother to fully re-wrap Samehada or bow to the courier before he stalked off to a sheltered stand of trees to read it alone.
Kisame,
The weather is finally growing cool here. Sometimes I see a mist rising from the waters of the bay and feel the time when I can return home growing closer. I hope you are well. We have had some news about you reach us even in the land of Water and I could not help but worry that you were bored. In the absence of further accounts I assume you have found something pleasant to occupy your time. I understand your feelings of boredom too well these days I am afraid. I am in fine health and have been spending a great deal of time out of doors. You will hardly know me, I am so brown. Otherwise I have been behaving myself as I was instructed. One year in this place is more than enough.
The daimyo of this country is even more foolish than ours, something I admit I had not thought possible until I saw it with my own eyes. He has the most revoltingly romantic streak and has come to see my humble person as some sort of tragic figure. He is always after the leader of our embassy and her staff in hopes that they will reveal some spoiled love affair back in Kiri or a doomed pact of friendship and betrayal. Our ambassador has wondered more than once in my presence if the man actually performs any political or administrative duties or simply records ballads. I am inclined to believe that he devotes himself exclusively to his troubadour pursuits, though I have held my tongue on the matter thus far. The lion's share of the work is done by his staff and his wife who is an estimable woman in every way. I think she would have made a formidable kuniochi had she been born in our village. The rest of the embassy ignores me quite neatly and I am assigned useless bodyguard duties to the daimyo, who is as safe as the clouds in the sky since everyone knows how useless he is.
I am sorry to have taken so long to write you. Truthfully I was first angry and then did not know what to write. I still don't but I have hardly any time to continue to hold off. I would regret not writing you at all far more than being confused. I am eager to see my sister and Kenji and my nephew but I look forward to seeing you as well. You are laughing at me I am certain but I cannot hear you and do not care. I will hold off on taking missions until I have seen you Kisame and we have discussed and resolved whatever is between us. I hope you will too.
Give my regards to your mother and congratulate Zabuza on his promotion to the Seven Swords for me. Please look after yourself and try not to pick fights with Ao; he is less foolish than he sometimes appears.
With affection,
He read the letter three times and then folded it carefully, tucking it into a pocket of his vest. He had been laughing at her; she was right, but not entirely for the reasons she thought. He had no intention of discussing whatever it was between them, as she had so carefully put it, nor was he about to try and resolve it. He hoped that a resolution was a very long way off. Kisame remembered feeling warm despite the cold, clinging fog as he walked back to the village; a slightly evil smile on his face.
Next chapter up soon, probably tomorrow; tonight if I put forth some effort.
Let me know what you thought!