What now? His mother had left him. The Mizukage had declined him. The world had turned his back on him. All he had was Haku. It was then he made his decision. Pulling out his knife, he gently ran his soft blue fingers across the blade. A small bead of blood danced down his hand.
He stopped momentarily as Haku turned in his sleep. Maybe he had survived the ocean, but he would not survive solitude. No food, no drink, no love; Haku would die quickly without Kisame, especially in his current condition. But Kisame saw no other way.
As he lifted the knife to his chest, he heard two voices whispering outside.
"That's the one," a man barked.
"The shack? That's its house?"
"Yep. It killed Raoiki and Deru, and dishonored the Mizukage."
"Terrible crimes, simply terrible. For a while I felt sorry, it only being a child, but it deserves everything it's soon to get. If I would have spoken to the Mizukage in such a way, my mother would have cut my tongue out."
"Your mother would have rather been shoving her tongue down your pops throat then cutting off yours." Which left them bickering for several minutes. Kisame tucked the knife away as a strong stench of kerosene drifted through the hole still left from when he had had fought Mortagai.
Then, without warning, the cabin exploded in a blazing fury. The flames shot across the walls at blinding speeds, eating the wood as Kisame leapt up. He seized Haku and turned quickly, but the hole was already blocked by a wall of fire.
"Damn!" He turned, and took one last sniff of his mother's scent, took one last glance at the place his whole life had taken place, before charging right through the wall of fire.
He hit the rocky shore running, and began to sprint away. An arrow whizzed past his face, slicing his cheek. He whipped around to see the two men hot on his tail, each putting another arrow on their bows. More non-shinobi, thankfully. Kisame continued to run, but turn yet again as his cabin exploded, leaving a giant mushroom cloud as the smell of kerosene shot for miles across. It must've taken a dang lot of fluid to catch that wet shack on fire.
Two more arrows nearly missed him, and a third got him in the upper arm. He round a sharp corner, making a quick blast too the lighthouse that jutted out from the rocky outcropping. The light had not worked for years, and the lighthouse cast eerie shadows in the light of the explosion. He dove behind it as another arrow slammed him in the stomach. These idiots were damn good shooters. He hugged Haku tight as he stared down at the dark, forbidding ocean, nearly two hundred feet down. It was particularly violent tonight; as storm was obviously on the way. The waves were easily ten footers, their white caps slammed furiously against the rocks. As the two men rounded the corner, he looked up at the starry sky, and hoped that he'd see it again. And with a deep breath, he dived headfirst, straight down.