"Okay, so–" Sakura began abruptly after a few hours of traveling in relative peace. Kisame could already tell he was in for a verbal lashing–excellent, so maybe he wouldn't be bored.

"If we're going to be traveling together, we need to lay out some ground rules."

"Sure." He'd humor her.

"First rule: You need to actually listen to me."

"Ah. Thing is, I forgot how to listen. Amnesia, remember?" He smiled.

Sakura scoffed. "Please. I only had to make that up because you didn't stay put like I told you to. Hence, the actually listening to me rule."

"Pffft, and that was the best you could come up with? Seems like a you problem, Kunoichi."

"Well, I essentially just told them you're a big, bumbling dingus, which was apparently very believable, so what's that say?"

"That your friends aren't exactly the brightest?" he countered with a lopsided grin and a shrug.

Sakura gave him a cutting glance. "They're still alive, aren't they?"

That was true. A decade into the apocalypse and natural selection certainly had its way with those not quite gifted with common sense. Still though, Kisame enjoyed the annoyed little huff the kunoichi made when he criticized them.

"Ever heard of dumb luck?" he challenged.

Sakura clicked her tongue. "Yes, and I think you've benefited from it spectacularly."

"Says the woman I saved in the damn desert."

"You ought to be nicer to me, you know," she said, casting him a haughty sidelong look, "I'm kind of doing you a huge favor, if you'll recall."

He snorted. "How could I forget? I have a feeling I'll be reminded frequently–with gusto."

"Mm. And how could I not, what with your amnesia?" Yes, two could play this game.

"Hm? Sorry, what were we talking about? I forgot." Kisame's eyes had a shitty little twinkle like he was enjoying this far too much.

That was about the theme of the next couple days. They would alternate between bickering and silence for the most part. Bickering wasn't quite right though, it implied both parties were impishly annoyed, and that was only true for one of them.

Kisame seemed to have a grand time, and Sakura would never admit that sometimes it was kind of funny. But truly only sometimes.

Many times he was plenty annoying.

"Might wanna finish up with your little arts and crafts project there, Pink." Kisame gave a nod to the sky, parts of it still visible through the treetops of the forest clearing they were setting camp in. He was assembling his tent and Sakura still needed work on hers, but instead had been sitting in the dirt playing with river reeds. "Looks like storm clouds rolling in."

Sakura gave him a deadpan look over her shoulder. "This—" she held up some sort of shitty basket "—is not arts and crafts. This is a fishing trap so we can eat something other than dried rations for once."

Kisame sputtered out a laugh, still tending to his tent. "Kunoichi, if you wanted fish you should have told me. I'm kind of a pro."

"Oh yeah? How's that, you just wade out there and they recognize one of their own? Come to chat?"

He grinned. "Funny, but not quite."

"You have a rod with you or something?"

"Oh, I've always got a rod with me." The devilish raise of his thin brow was plenty to let her know he definitely did not have a fishing rod with him.

Sakura scoffed. "Well, your services won't be required. I'm all done with this now. I'll go set it up, and in the morning there will be lots of fish in it, you'll see."

"Pink, if you wanted to catch a fish, I'm right h—"

"–Please do not make some lame joke about being an easy catch."

"Keh… Reading my mind? Impressive."

"That, or you're painfully predictable. Take your pick."

"Look, I've been called a lot of things, but boring ain't one of them," he said, securing the last corner of his tent to stake in the ground before sauntering over to where the kunoichi was sitting, hands on his hips. "What do you say we liven things up a bit with a wager?"

"A wager," she repeated skeptically.

"Yep." He waited, towering over her as she held his gaze, her lips pursing in thought.

"What kind of wager?"

A sharp grin cut across his face because if she was asking that, then she was basically already in, right? "You just go on out there and set up your cute little trap. I bet that I can catch more fish in five minutes tomorrow morning than you can catch all night."

Sakura analyzed him thoughtfully. The cock of his head, the excitement he exuded. He was confident for a reason she was sure–his smile extra smarmy–but Kisame was right, he was a lot of things. Cocky being at the top of the list.

She wanted to bring it down a few pegs.

"Interesting…" she murmured, mulling it over, "so what's the prize? What do you get if you win?"

Kisame thought about asking for a sexual favor, but, in a stroke of common decency, decided not to push it

"One question," he said. "I get to ask you one question, any question, and you have to answer it."

Sakura laughed. "You think I'm a lot more interesting than I am, shark."

"That a yes then?"

"No. Because I'm not nearly as curious about you. Winning a question seems like a piss poor prize if you ask me. Not exactly seeing what I get out of this when I win."

"Interesting use of the word 'when' there, Kunoichi."

"It's really not," she challenged with a self-assured smile.

"Hah… alright." Kisame's tongue played with the points of his teeth as he surveyed her, more than a little amused. "Name your prize, then."

Sakura hummed, "Hm, how about… a full day of your utmost cooperation."

"Hey now, I think I've been plenty cooperative." He shifted his weight, hands on his hips and tongue poking at his cheek. "Are we forgetting about all the water I've given you?"

Sakura laughed without much humor, shaking her head and clapping her hands together like she was about to pray for him to find a brain. "No, see, I think this is another one of those big words you struggle with. Cooperation is when I ask you to do something… and then you do it."

"Ahhh, okay, I think I get it," he feigned understanding, not dropping his smile the slightest bit as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and bent down to lean closer. "Sooo, would I have to call you master, or like… sensei? Just not sure how deep this kink runs is all."

"Keep talking and we switch from cooperation to silence," she said dryly. "I'm being generous here, Kisame."

"Yeah, okay, and I'm just beside myself with gratitude."

"You're the one that suggested a bet. We can just call it off if you're so worri—"

He put his hands up, waving away her naysaying. "Alright, alright, fine. So if I catch more fish tomorrow—"

"—In only five minutes," Sakura reminded quickly.

"In only five minutes," Kisame agreed with a lopsided smile, "then you have to truthfully answer any question I ask."

"Fine. And if I catch more in my trap, then you have to actually listen to me for a whole, entire day. I'm talking unwavering devotion, Kisame."

His grin split wider. "It's a bet."

"It is," she agreed, her hand held outstretched from where she still sat on the ground. "Shake on it?"

Kisame wore a broad smile as he pulled a hand from his pocket and held it out, arm outstretched to meet her.

With a confident smirk, Sakura slapped her hand into his, using him as leverage to yank herself to her feet and put them at more even ground—a joke still, as she craned her neck to meet his amused gaze.

He towered over her, giving her hand a hard squeeze. It felt like some testosterone-fueled show of dominance.

Yeah, that wasn't gonna happen. Him dominate her? Please. Squeezing back in challenge, she locked her eyes onto his without so much as a blink.

Competitive Mode Sakura: Engaged

"Nice handshake, Kunoichi," he noted with a raise of his brow.

She smiled back a bit too sweetly, pushing her chin out and squeezing harder until his knuckles cracked in her grip. "Thanks, I know. Yours isn't half bad either."

"Ah, well, I'm barely trying."

"Same."

"Don't wanna hurt you."

"Same."

"Look, Pink…" he said, pulling her closer and leaning in with another increase in pressure that she immediately met, perfectly in tune. His voice dropped into a low tenor, the corners of his lips quirking up into an over-confident smirk. "I know you like holding my hand and everything, but I think we've got a deal at this point."

Sakura resisted the urge to bluster back in denial, beginning to grow all too accustomed to his underhanded tactics. "I agree," she gritted through a smile and another hard squeeze. "You should probably let go."

His eyes glinted with excitement, unsure of what this game was but very ready to play.

Their gazes tethered with a spark of challenge and only when a fat raindrop plopped onto Sakura's nose did it suddenly fizzle, snapping her out of her competitive fervor. Her head wrenched back to survey the sky which was quickly darkening from both a brewing of ominous storm clouds and the setting sun.

"Shit," she hissed, tearing out of his grip and fumbling to snatch up her fishing trap. "I need to get this set up before it storms!" she called out, bounding down to the river embankment.

"And your tent!" he shouted the reminder and could hear her hissing out another curse as she splashed into the water. She was much more interesting than she gave herself credit for.

With a chuckle to himself, Kisame took to laying out a bedroll and blanket in his tent, and only came out when he heard the kunoichi not only return, but shout something in horror.

Scrambling out of his shelter–nearly ripping it in the process–he was relieved to find she was not being gnawed on by some big nasty baddie, but rather staring angrily at her bag.

"Did you do this?!" she cried, gesturing to her tent which was in tatters and half-pulled out of her pack.

"What? No," he denied with an incredulous snort, staring at it just as confused as she was. They'd made camp somewhere else only yesterday, and when she packed her tent it was completely fine.

She leveled a disbelieving glare against him, hand on her hip.

"I didn't do it!" He maintained with an irritated toss of his arms. "Why the hell would I want to, anyway?"

"I don't know! Because you're an ass?! So I'd have to stay with you or something? As if I understand how your mind works, Kisame."

"Hah wow, I come off pretty desperate huh? Hm, I'll have to work on that. Maybe. Eh, probably not. Regardless, no, I didn't rip up your little tent."

"It's all… shredded …isn't that what your sword is good for?"

"Look," he raised his voice, and there was a finality about it. Serious for once, like bringing Samehada into this was a hair too far. "I told you I didn't fucking do it."

Sakura huffed with a clench of her eyes like she was trying to stave off a headache, running a hand through her hair. "Fine. You didn't do it," she muttered, clearly still trying to find it in her to believe that. "But something is definitely not right here…" Her fingers ran over the frayed, sturdy canvas, examining the shredded remains closely. "Not if you honestly didn't do this."

Her eyes shifted along the darkening shadows tucked into the foliage, scouring them for anything that didn't belong. When no ominous sets of glowing red eyes presented themselves, Sakura resumed glowering at her tattered tent with a huff.

Kisame snorted. "You think pretty highly of yourself, huh?"

Sakura rolled her eyes, sparing him a tired glance. "What are you talking about now?"

"If you honestly didn't do this," he mocked, mirroring how her hand dug into her hip, all cocked out to the side. "Or do you honestly think I am that desperate to get into your pants, Kunoichi?"

With a raised brow and a fold of her arms over her chest, Sakura clicked her tongue, looking him once over. "Tell me, Kisame, is there a reason you always have to be so gross?"

He shrugged, crossing his arms as well, but looking much more amused than she was. "Just a hobby."

"Unbelievable," she muttered, and Kisame couldn't tell if it was directed at him or the rain which started to come down harder. She stomped over to a nearby tree and began tearing at the low hanging branches thick with leaves. "And just so you know, even if I did think you were desperate to get in my pants, it's only because of your so-called hobby of being gross with me all the time. Quit projecting your ego on me."

"Hah, says the woman who was sucking on my finger within minutes of meeting me."

"Oh my god , when are you going to get over that?!" Sakura groaned, throwing branches haphazardly together to build some sort of an impromptu shelter.

Kisame let out a long whistle with a cock of his head. "Tough to say when, Kunoichi. Might be a while. Gotta work it out of my system. I'd go into more detail about that process, but you told me not to be gross."

Sakura deadpanned. "Seriously?" At which he simply grinned. "Are you trying to piss me off?"

"Nah, comes naturally. Besides, you're not that mad."

"Oh, because you would know, right?"

"I would. I do. I can smell it."

"You can smell when I'm mad…" Sakura scoffed with a laugh, shaking her head like that was just plain ridiculous, but after a pregnant pause and a glance at his stupidly cocky expression, she couldn't help but wonder… "Wait, are you serious?"

His grin stretched wider and he tapped an index finger to his nostril. "I can smell a lot more than you think, Kunoichi."

Her eyes squinted in trying to ascertain his bullshit level. She decided it was high. "You're full of shit."

He shrugged. "And you're ovulating."

Snapping up to gape at him, Sakura found herself utterly aghast and stammering for a response because oh my god she totally was.

"And you haven't bathed in a while, that's been pretty obvious though. I bet even the average nose could have smelled that–oh now you're getting madder. Or–wait–maybe that's embarrassment. Hold on–" his brows knitted together in concentration as his nostrils flared.

"I'm not–" she tapered off with a frustrated growl before blustering out an attempt to change the subject, "You know what? It's fine. Completely whatever. Be as gross as you want later, would you just help me with this now?"

"Help with what?" he laughed. "Getting soaked and destroying these poor, innocent trees? I don't even know why you're doing that, we still have a perfectly good tent between us, ya know."

Sakura ripped another couple branches off and flung them atop the others in a hurried attempt to mitigate the leaking before the rain started coming down too hard.

"No. You have a perfectly good tent. I have an unexplained, ripped mess."

"All the more reason to bunk up, no? Pretty sketchy, that."

Sakura glared, slapping a branch down without even looking. Had this been Ino, it wouldn't have even been a question, they'd already be cozy and dry in the same bedroll for ramen's sake. His point was good, which only made her hate it more.

"Look, Kunoichi," Kisame started, hands out in a 'listen here' kind of motion. "We've already established I'm not desperate enough to try to get in your pants, right?" That definitely wasn't true but it sounded reasonable enough.

"I don't see why someone would need to be desperate to do that…" Sakura muttered under her breath and the snapping of wood.

Kisame's brow ticked, the corner of his mouth turning up with a smirk. "What was that?"

"Nothing," she bit out quickly.

"Nah nah nah, that was not nothing. That was something."

"I was asking for your help, but you know what, it's fine. I can do it myself."

"Does it bother you?" he asked, sauntering up to her, a predatory glint to his eyes.

"That you don't listen or help? Yes, it bothers me very much actually, thanks for asking."

"No, I already know that," he said with a flippant wave of his hand. "I mean would it bother you to know I'm not interested in you like that?"

"What?!" Sakura balked, maybe a little too hard. "Why on earth would I want you to be interested in me?"

Kisame shrugged. "Good taste? Loneliness?"

"Hah! Do I strike you as lonely? I think you're projecting again, shark."

He hummed. "Mm. Maybe not lonely, but definitely in need of a good lay. Your shit is wound tight."

Sakura scowled with a deeply irritated roll of her eyes, grumbling, "Well excuse me for being a little stressed during the fucking apocalypse."

"You're excused."

She scoffed. "Regardless. No, it doesn't bother me. In fact, I'd very much prefer you to remain uninterested in my pants, thank you very much."

"Well good luck to any guy that is. That shit is stuffed so far up your ass it'll take half a lifetime just to pull 'em out."

Sakura slammed down an armful of logs in a huff. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Kisame smiled, looking far too leisurely just watching her struggle with the rain and his bullshit. "Man, I love when you prove my point."

Her piercing glare recommended he try for a better answer.

"It means you're a tight ass, Kunoichi, and I don't mean that in the fun way."

"Ah, well. My apologies. Being fun and cutesy hasn't exactly been my top priority, believe it or not. I've just been a little busy leading one of the only research and development teams trying to fix the goddamn world."

"Ahhh yes, Ikiru. The prestigious post-apocalyptic do-gooders. How could I forget? How's that working out for you guys by the way?"

"That's enough," Sakura warned.

Oh ho. So making fun of her was annoying, but acceptable… the group though? Off limits. A line crossed that Kisame was happy to leap over just to see where it brought him.

"Ya know, if it wasn't so stupid, it might be cute–thinking you can undo all this."

Sakura shook her head. "Having hope is not stupid."

"Sometimes it is. Like if you looked at a piece of shit and thought hey, you know what, I'm gonna make this back into food. That would be stupid, no?"

"That's not a fair analogy. That's not what this is."

"You don't think this is shit?" he questioned incredulously, gesturing to the forsaken world around them.

Sakura didn't say anything for a tense moment, just kept piling foliage onto the shelter, her movements becoming more stilted and aggressive. "I think you need to stop talking."

"Yeah, because you know I'm right. But it's cool, whatever you need to sleep at night, Kunoichi. I get it."

"No, you most certainly do not," Sakura muttered, snapping a thick branch over her knee like it was some sort of therapy.

"Sure, I do. You're all mad because you've been in an echo chamber with all your little friends for so long that it sucks to hear the truth for once."

"The truth?" Sakura barked out with a laugh. "You are delusional! If everything is such irreversible shit, then why the hell are you going to all this effort to save your friend?!" she shouted, throwing up her arms in frustration.

"Look, Kunoichi," he drawled, rolling his eyes and turning away from her to head toward his tent and out of the rain, "I don't need to explain myself to you."

"Oh yes you do," Sakura countered, stomping over to him and tearing him back by the shoulder, "If you want me to help, anyway."

Kisame snorted a derisive laugh as he whirled around, looking down his nose at her. "You think you're the only medic out there?"

"I think I'm the best," she said with a forceful push of her jaw, her defiant gaze unwavering.

"Oh? That old slug bitch die or somethin'?"

And that did it–vaulted her right over the edge.

Sakura's fist could not have been in his face faster.

He'd wanted to leap over the line, sure, but this was something else. That twist of her face. The instant, violent reaction that brought knuckles cracking against his jaw in a brutal uppercut.

He'd gone past the line alright–couldn't even see it anymore.

Couldn't see anything, in fact. His vision swam in darkness for a moment before he was able to blink back into reality. It was cold and wet and felt like rocks and sticks beneath his back and a weight on his chest.

"That was a warning," Sakura spat, and with a few more blinks his vision pieced together enough to make out her shape perched over him. Her feet planted on each side of his torso, squatting low to sit on his chest. He felt himself being tugged up, her hand fisted into the collar of his shirt, pulling him close enough that he could count the pulsing beat throbbing in her forehead. "You don't talk about her. Ever. Do I make myself clear?"

He should have been angry—furious even. This kunoichi just sucker punched him so hard it folded him like a cheap suit.

Him, of all people. Kisame Hoshigaki. And her, little kunoichi with pink hair.

Un-fucking-believable.

Her face was close enough that he could have spit in it. Her throat just a delicate, pale column like a beacon begging for his fingers to wrap around and squeeze until she couldn't breathe. Even without getting particularly creative or spiteful, he could at least just hit her back.

All very normal things he expected to feel a strong inclination towards after being decked in the fucking face, and yet…

"Crystal clear," he answered evenly, staring up at her without a blink and studying this new expression of hers.

It was angry in the same way a blade was. Sharp and cold, the ability to kill present—intent pending.

She was calm in her warning. It was threatening. It did something to his spine, like a hot drip of oil from skull to tailbone and he barely managed to restrain the accompanying shiver.

"Do I smell angry enough now?" she asked with a low drop of her voice, short and clipped.

He nodded–she reeked of rage and anguish.

"Good." And with that she was off him, letting him fall flat against the ground once more before she stomped off without a second glance, picking up right where she left off with her lean-to.

This woman, he decided, was incredible.

His jaw hurt. Like actually, really hurt. It was tender to the touch when he rubbed it, shifting it back and forth to work out a crack. Sure, he hadn't been expecting it, but regardless, that was a decent strike.

More than decent, even… her form was perfect, and at what he assumed was only a fraction of the force she was capable of? She wasn't strong. She was a goddamn powerhouse. Maybe almost as powerful as him—almost. He spit some blood across the dirt, an apt punctuation for the thought.

As he laid there, she didn't pay him any mind. She was intent on her task, ever the focused mind. It gave him a nice opportunity to look her over, and he shamelessly did so until she gasped in alarm upon rounding to the front of the structure.

The hiss under her breath carried over the rain as she snatched her bag up. "What the fuck," she growled low to herself, snapping to look at Kisame who was still just lying there, enjoying the feeling of water pelting his skin. "Did you–" she cut herself off, apparently deciding better of it.

"Yes?" Kisame drawled, lolling his head to look directly at her.

"Never mind," she dismissed angrily, turning back to her bag and beginning to pull out a sopping wet blanket with a deep scowl.

"You sure? It sounded like a super urgent question."

She shook her head. "No. It's fine."

"Well alright then," he mused, watching her boil and placing an internal bet on how long she'd last before she bubbled over.

After about seven seconds—two more than he gave her credit for—she jerked back to him, declaring, "I know I didn't leave my bag open."

"Okay. That's good, I think?"

"My bag is open, Kisame," Sakura said, holding up the corner of a dripping blanket. "Open and left right under where the leak was. I didn't do that."

Kisame could tell she was getting all uppity so he decided now might be a good time to get on his feet. If she was going to punch him again, he'd rather take it standing. Point of pride and all that.

"Let me guess, you think I did it."

"Well it didn't open itself."

He shrugged. "Maybe it did. Maybe your bag is a yokai."

"You're not funny."

"Oh, I'm hilarious, but that's besides the point. I didn't ruin your tent and I didn't move your little bag, Kunoichi. Now why don't you stop trying to pin the blame and start accepting the solution," he said, grasping his shirt by the bottom hem and peeling it off in one swift movement. His soaking pants came next and when he was down to just a pair of tight black briefs, he retreated into the temperate confines of his tent.

Sakura watched him with anger tugging at her brows to crease at the center. Watched him tuck into his stupidly dry tent and pull a blanket up to his stupid waist. Laying there on his stupid side, all shirtless and head propped in a cupped palm.

"Plenty of room over here," he said, patting a very narrow space next to him. 'Plenty' was a bit of a stretch. Hell, even 'room' was, but there was a sliver of semi-available space and he acted like it was a generous offer with the way he smiled.

Sakura glared at him, feeling the persistent drip drip drip on her head. She was quite decided in choosing hypothermia over his smugness. "No thank you," she bit out, schlepping into her own very damp lean-to with nary a blanket or pillow, just Kubikiribocho at her side which she quietly patted and rested her cheek against.

"Alright well, it'll be here if you change your mind," he called out a bit too cheerfully as he laid down, pulling the blanket up to his neck. She scoffed and shifted to put her back to him.

Did he think he was cute or something, stripping down and suggesting she crawl in next to him? Please. And so friendly right after she pushed his shit in? Was he really that unaffected?

Unaffected wasn't quite right though, she knew that. She knew she made some sort of impression with the way he reacted... Why the hell did he look at her like that?

Clutching at herself uselessly for warmth, she kept mulling it over. Kept seeing his face so close to hers, staring in this almost… reverent way. That couldn't be right though, not after hitting him like she did. No, more realistically she probably just knocked one of his two brain cells loose and that was his buffering face.

It didn't matter. She was too cold to think about it anymore. Her fingers had gone numb and apparently now her brain too, the rest of her body catching up quickly as the dank coolness of that miserable night settled deep in her bones.

"Kunoichi." That was Kisame's voice, groggy and low, breaking the long-settled silence. She had no idea how long it'd been since they bedded down, maybe a couple hours, but she definitely hadn't fallen asleep. "The storm's getting pretty bad. I can hear you shivering from here."

"M'f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-ine …" she mumbled half-heartedly, struggling to even shift onto her other side she'd lost so much feeling. In the dark, she could just barely make out his shadowy bulk moving to sit up inside his tent.

"Oh yeah?" he questioned with a yawn. "I don't recall fine having seventeen f's in it. That a Leaf accent or somethin?"

She glared at him, not deigning to attempt speech again.

He sighed. "C'mon, Pink. Get over here, it's nice and warm. I promise I'll behave."

Sakura closed her eyes and steeled herself. She knew better than to put her body through this, and her pride wasn't so big that she couldn't swallow it. She was stubborn–not stupid. So when Kisame called out for her again, she knew what she needed to do.

"Look, as much as it'd fill me with satisfaction to repulse you to death, Kunoichi, I really can't have you dyin' on me. Would it help if I asked nicely? Here, how about this… I respectfully request that you drag your pink ass over here, please."

The stubborn set of her face slowly shifted to despair. To crawl in beside Kisame would feel like bending the knee to him, but to not meant death. She would do this–well, she'd try anyway. She definitely wasn't expecting her joints to literally be frozen, making her attempts to sit up nothing more than a pathetic writhing.

After an indiscernible grumbling from Sakura, Kisame let out a heavy exhale. "Alright. I'm comin' to get you– tried to be nice, for the record."

"I'm t-t-t-trying!" Sakura whined, finally managing to push up on to her elbows with a shivering grunt.

"Yeah, sure you are…" he mumbled under his breath, tossing his blanket off and moving to peek his head fully out of the tent. It was cold but it wasn't that cold. He knew she could be high strung, but these kinds of dramatics seemed a bit pathetic for her, as if she couldn't move her ass enough to at leas–

"Hold on," Kisame barked out in a hissing rush, eyes shooting wide for a fraction of a second before narrowly honing in on something just beyond Sakura's shelter. "Stay there, Kunoichi."

"What? But you j-j-j-just s-sai–"

His gaze darted to Sakura, silently urging her to shut the hell up. "Shh," he pressed a finger to his lips urgently, his other hand blindly reaching for Samehada somewhere behind him.

There, shrouded in the chaos of darkness and downpour, hunched over and gripping Sakura's lean-to with clawed, gangly fingers, was the pale and sunken face of a smiling old woman.

A/N: DID YOU THINK I FORGOT ABOUT THIS?

I would never.

I have written a lot for this fic, completely plotted it out, and think about it all the time. I love snarky KisaSaku and horrible terrible yokai, so do not fret. I'm just busy, but I wanted to at least complete an update so people know this is far from dropped.

Thank you lovely readers. Please consider leaving a review if you are enjoying so far!