Chapter 4: Emissary

When her hazel eyes fluttered open, blinking away the blur and lull of sleep, Sika realized she was not where she last remembered. She'd been stripped of her clothing and lay down in a dark, strange bedroom. Not that it bothered her, she was used to being without clothing, and whoever it was had been nice enough to bind her breasts.

She lay still, eyes searching the room for another presence, but none made themselves known. She sat up, her skin pulling at her in a tight, strange way and her muscles screamed for her to be still, but muscle ache was not new to her. She sat up anyway and looked around.

The last she remembered, she was on the floor in the dining room, gasping for breathe and her chest healing from a major wound, her two hired body guards nearby with a few other… onlookers. Now she was alone, under a thick blanket. The room's only window was covered, but light peeked from under it. This room was traditional Japanese, the bed cushion was placed on the floor and a small table was seated nearby. A few cabinets were on one wall, but the others were bare, save for a western styled wood door on one.

She shifted again to find a more comfortable position and something around her neck clinked in a metallic sort if way.

Someone had placed prayer beads around her neck, beautiful white prayer beads, and at the end of them was a familiar looking pendant.

"I hoped it was a dream," she murmured, fingering the cold metal loosely "fuck."

Brooding wasn't going to help her, she surmised, so when she finally got up the gumption, she stood up.

On the table was a note, and next to it was a pair of black pants and a roll of that athletic-y tape/bandage stuff. She'd seen enough men to know what she was supposed to do. It didn't bother her to go commando, but the pants were men's and therefor too big. She rolled them up and wrapped the waist band with the tape so they wouldn't fall off of her hips, but she was still terribly uncomfortable. Her shirt was probably ruined, but she hoped her pants were just in the dryer or something.

The note on the table was next for inspection. The handwriting was crooked and messy, it had to be Hidan's because who else but a backwoods hick from hot water country spelled like that? The note detailed in the vaguest way possible that he had to leave with Kakuzu that morning, they were hunting a bounty on a target that needed taking out as fast and as soon as possible, and that Sika would be able to stay with Itachi until they got back to finish the delivery to her father.

Under it, he listed again the five principles of Jashinisum.

Fuck.

Maybe it wasn't too late to back out. Maybe it wasn't too late to lift this curse of a religion. Maybe Hidan hadn't left yet. After pocketing the note, Sika left the room, slamming the door behind her and walking down the strange hall at a breakneck pace. The house was ill lit, the wood grain halls were made from dark wood, each stepped seemed to bring darkness closer and closer. Sika turned corner after corner, flinging opened doors and charging though until finally, she came to a sliding door made out of rice paper. It was beautifully inked with a depiction of a crane and though it's thin fibers, light glowed.

It took minimal effort to throw open the door.

The room behind the door was all windows and every one of them was uncovered. The light that flooded in was a bright golden, setting everything ablaze with color and casting long shadows. It was late afternoon. She'd slept all day.

"Good afternoon," a voice came. Calm and even. It was Itachi. Sika hadn't even realized he was in the room with the sun throwing shadows the way it was.

Itachi was seated at a low, traditional table, drinking tea and looking over a spiral bound notebook. He sat on a pillow instead of the tatami, though the color of the pillow was had to tell. He managed to seat himself between two windows, the wall shading his figure. If he'd been sitting in the sun, his skin would have looked orange just like Sika's was now.

"Good afternoon," the girl greeted. Silently she cursed, Hidan was already gone.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked. He was being polite, it was important not to confuse that with actually caring. "Please, sit."

"I am," she replied, and she stood there awkwardly for a second before she produced the note from her pocket as she settled down across from the black eyed man, "uh, sorry to bother you. I uh, well, do you know when Hidan will be back?"

"A few weeks. A month at most," Itachi replied. He didn't do anything else but reply. Not even so much as a muscle twitch.

Sika wanted to curse, but she had better manners than that, "I see. You know, you don't have to babysit me. I tried to tell Kakuzu that I want to give up on finding my father."

"The situation was explained to me before he left," he paused for a moment to shuffle some papers around and when he looked back up, something about his face had changed. It was his eyes, physically they hadn't changed but something felt off. It was quite unnerving. Sika squirmed.

"Kakuzu asked me to give you a test. Seeing as you can no longer…expire."

Oh shit, here it was. Her eyebrows raised as her stomach churned. What could the leader of a mercenary group possibly want with her? "What sort of test?"

"Kakuzu thinks that you know more than you're letting on," the leader's expression didn't change.

"And why would he think that?" The tawny haired girl countered.

"You come from a shinobi background. He thought it was…. Interesting, how you duped Hidan," Itachi's words were few but his message was loud and clear. He thought she was lying to him.

"It's easy to fool someone like Hidan, I didn't even have to know him. I've only been around him for a few days, he's not a hard nut to crack," Sika's brow broke out in a cold sweat. She swallowed and fidgeted in her seat. She was afraid and she was sure this man was going to be her end.

"That's exactly the point. You knew his personality and you knew his behavior within a few days. You saw an opportunity and you took it. You double crossed someone who was helping you." Itachi didn't have to say it. Those same traits were the same that asked someone to kill their comrade, to outwit the enemy. Those were shinobi traits.

Sika didn't speak.

Itachi continued after the tension in the air had dissipated .

"Kakuzu also mentioned something about a genjutsu called the Sweet Sakura Mist? Can you perform it?

"Of course I can," Sika countered, her voice high and hinting hostility, "my own father invented it. Kiri is dangerous, he-"

"Combining your potential," Itachi spoke over her, cutting her off, "and your new condition, if you will, that you might be quite valuable."

Sika buttoned her lips for just a moment. A long, long, long life had given her an aversion to men that raised their voice to her. She wasn't afraid, but she knew she should be cautious. Women who talked back in her neck of the woods didn't go very far (not that it ever stopped her), but, she realized, she had nothing to lose. This man couldn't kill her. There was no reason to be afraid of that, but then she realized, maybe death was the best thing on the table. He could rape her, or he could hold her down and choke her, preventing her from breathing and hold her on the verge of death but it would never reach her. He could pull all of her finger nails off, and then start with her knuckles after he'd finished. He could have her father killed.

She began very slowly, looking down at her fingers and trying to push what she'd just envisioned from her head, "I don't understand. Are you offering me a job?"

"Yes," the man answered and then began to explain, "I employ around twenty people, eight of us do the majority of battle, the others work in the background. You probably won't ever be a heavy hitter, but regardless, with the proper training I have a position that will fit you well."

"I'm not interested," Sika quickly spit out, "I just want to find my father and live in peace. I don't want to fight, or lie, or cheat, I just want to go home."

"Perhaps I can sway you with money," that got her attention. Her jaw went slack and her eyes widened. She looked up to meet his gaze for a split second before returning her attention to her fingers.

"If I were to trade your service for the cost of paying off your debt to Akatsuki, would you consider it?" His demeanor had changed. He spoke more respectfully, he seemed kinder. Sika wondered how he'd gotten Kakuzu to go along with this.

"How long?" She asked, testing the waters.

"One year. After your father is found of course."

"And I don't have to stick around any more after that? I can go home and I'll be left alone?" She was suspicious and her expression reflected it. He nodded.

"I'm unskilled," she pointed out.

"I have a teacher already prepared. You won't ever see heavy combat," he was quick to reply, "Assuming you pass the test that is."

Sika mulled this all over in her head. All she had to do was be the errand girl for these guys for one year, hopefully without any blood on her hands, and she'd be free to live out the rest of eternity in peace with her father. She'd be out of the public eye too, he'd said she'd be behind the scenes. She knew she'd never be able to stop Kakuzu if he wanted to kill someone if the off chance her father couldn't pay. Heads would roll. It wouldn't matter where hers ended up, but her Dad? As soon as it left his neck he'd be all done.

Sika had to face the fact that she hadn't seen her father in years. Did he even still want her around? Would be reaccept her into his household? If he did, she had no way of knowing his financial status. She loved him, no matter where he'd gone, and she wouldn't be able to live if he died. "We won't mention this to my father or anyone he associates with."

"That's fair."

"You've got yourself a deal."

He held out his hand to shake on it and she hesitantly took it. Finally she felt confident enough to look up at him. She made eye contact and as soon as she did she watched his once black eyes spin into crimson. She opened her mouth to sputter something, but the Akatsuki leader's unwavering red gaze had something deep inside of her warping.

This was her test. He'd caught her in a genjutsu. A monochromatic world of emptiness. There was a very definite line where the ink colored sky meet the linen white ground and it hurt to stare at the point where they joined like it hurt to stare at the sun. The room was empty with only her standing in the middle until Itachi materialized in her line of view.

"What do I have to do to pass the test?" She asked, trying to project her voice, but the sound rang through the air and reverberated through her ears, pushing her to her knees. It hurt, it hurt so bad, like the sound waves were trying to split her head in two. She cried out in pain, but the noise had the same reaction. Sika clasped her hands over her ear and stuck her pointer fingers down her ear canal to try and stop the drum from vibrating and shaking every piece of her inner ear.

"Survive," the man responded. His words pierced the air around her. Something warm and wet was bubbling in her head and she had no idea what it was. Her auditory nerve felt like it was being repeatedly stapled with a staple gun, over and over the intense pain hit her until the moisture inside of her ear came flowing out. She was bleeding.

She buried her face in the dirt, her hands clasped over her ears. Her palms were slowly coating in blood. It occurred to her that if this didn't stop soon, then she had no other option but to pop her own ear drums and deafen herself.

During the process of thinking that one though, the real trouble started. Another noise began quietly, a staccato bray from some sort of animal. The other noises in the room began to fade as this one got louder. It was a crow, cawing, screaming and causing all hell to break loose in her head. The Akatsuki leader was dematerializing. His fingers became feathers and his hand became a bird, his entire body was breaking apart and from the pieces came the crows. The first crow to come at her swarmed her head, pulling her hair between its feet, picking at her back, and as the man disintegrated, more of its brothers joined it.

Their beaks were sharp, anywhere they decided was good enough quickly became an open wound. Their cawing never ceased and the pain in her head never let up. She shifted, trying to cover her ears and cover her head at the same time, but as the number of birds increased, she found herself swatting and lunging at the birds, angering them. There was no way she could protect herself and cover her ears. Their attacks didn't let up.

Her skin was scraping, their feet dragging, their needle sharp beaks stuck holes in her hide. Everything was bleeding all at once, her ears, her fingers, her palms, her arm, her shoulder, her torso, all down to her bare feet.

There were so many birds swarming her she wasn't able to estimate how many there were. They dug deeper into her skin, pulling, tearing, drilling deeper to pull out her flesh and swallow it whole. Sika would hit one with enough force she was sure she'd killed it, knock it to the ground, and watch it get up, two more taking the place the one had just occupied.

"Somebody help me! Hidan! Please!" She screamed, agony over powering her, but instantly she regretted it. The sound bounced back at her. Her vision was spinning, vertigo over taking control. With her inner ear disrupted, she couldn't see, she couldn't walk, it was hard to even coordinate her hands. No one was coming for her. This world was empty besides her and the birds and there was no way to escape, only a way to suffer.

There was only one more person to ask for help. She didn't know if she could do it. "Lord Jashin! I beg of you!"

And then it was broken. Nothing was black or white in the tea room, just bright hues of orange and yellow, her own skin turning a bright cantaloupe color in the setting sunlight. Sika was panting, lungs heaving, laying flat on her back and panting, but she was alive. Itachi was here too, no crows.

Psychologically, she felt like she'd been drug through all nine circles of hell by a fish hook. It occurred to her that this was not the first time she'd lived though her death, and she didn't feel alright. She shook, every muscle in her body tensed and twitching, her pupils blown wide and her jaw slack. Her right shoulder gave a rapid jerk, and then another, and then her fingers spasmed and her calves tightened. The room was still spinning with vertigo and even when she shut her eyes it was still spinning. Instead she saw flashbacks of both of her near death experiences.

Lord Jashin had saved her, she realized. Hidan hadn't been kidding around.

She felt, for the second time in twenty four hours, like she might throw up. Whatever that was the leader did was powerful, too powerful and very disturbing.

She needed to calm down, she needed to get ahold of herself and find all of her limbs, but when she couldn't manage either was when the fog rolled in. Something was hazing her brain, quieting all of the muscle ticks and soothing her racing thoughts. It felt heavy, grey and calming. It forced her eyes shut, allowing her eyesight to return to normal, and for just a second it disrupted her hearing. With a second of quiet, her brain was free to buffer what was sound and what was genjutsu dream. Nothing was hurting anymore. Nothing was moving, not even her lungs.

When the haze settled in to the face of her brain, she regained her motor skills. She drew in a single deep breath and exhaled, pulling fresh air into her lungs. She was getting a grip. Next to return to her was her eyesight, then her hearing, and then her neck down. She was still for a moment, still organizing her thoughts, and then she sat up. She outstretched her arms behind her to use as braces, palms on the floor and shoulders hunched.

"You pass," the leader spoke, his voice full of stern, condescending contempt. Sika didn't know what to make of that. "You're dismissed."

"Thank you," she murmured, and slowly got up and left.

The first thing Sika did was find someone to draw her a bath.

Like, an actual employed servant, drew her a bath. Her, as in, the ex-prostitute.

It was an old fashioned sort if bath, as in they heated water with a fire under the tub in some other room. There was no pipes or shower head, the room was traditional, like the bedroom. The circular tub had a cover, a pair of high quality, half circle wood slats that kept nonsense out when the water wasn't in use and a servant girl had brought in a bowl, soap and a clean washcloth and sat them down next to the tub.

This was the first time in a long time Sika wasn't taking a bath to unstick her thighs from each other. The initial rise before she actually got in the tub didn't take as long as it usually did, and neither did the actual washing. Sika was glad for that, because she only bothered taking a bath to soak her body in the hot water though she was careful not to get soap in the tub itself.

She could feel her skin reddening and her muscles soothing. She tilted her head back to rest on the tub and sunk down further. It'd been so long since she'd had a bath this way, the whore house had only used showers.

She was still on edge, no matter how nice it was to properly relax. It would occur randomly to her throughout the day that she was no longer mortal, because why wouldn't she be? She'd forget and remember and then her heart would race with all the implications of that. It was not comforting to realize these Akatsuki people couldn't kill her. She couldn't kill herself and end her suffering. If she couldn't over power them, she would have to live with whatever they wanted to do to her. That though carried over to her bedroom. In the cabinets to the room's right she found her bag and pulled it out. Her t-shirt had been destroyed but she still had the bandeau she'd shoved into her bag, and her shorts had been washed and lay on a shelf near her bag.

She found a fresh hair tie and dug into the chocolate bar that miraculously hadn't melted to the bag's canvas. She sorted through all of the birth control wheels that lay on the bottom of the sack, counted them all and then took the one for that day. Her magazine was there too, the dog eared copy of Ninja Monthly with the tattered article in the very organization she was in the presence of. She left that where it was and continued digging through her bag. There was a picture of her mother, lotion, a pad of paper and a pen, her entire life was in this bag.

When she settled down on the bed again, the sun had set fully. By the time she fell asleep, the sun was cresting over the horizon.

The room was dark when sleep faded from Sika's system. She'd slept through the day and she couldn't have cared less. When Sika got around and forced herself out of hiding, she discovered it was around nine at night.

She wandered the well lit house, looking for a servant or the kitchen, whichever came first, but she wished it was the later. This place might not have had any pipes in the bathroom, but they had wires throughout the house connected to fixtures. She didn't stop to puzzle that, she just accepted the way things were.

The tawny haired girl had slept through all three meals, and she was starving. Finally some women toting a handful of towels pointed her in the direction of the kitchen and she made a B line that way. The halls were long and straight, every right angle brought her closer to food and her stomach was doing flips. Finally the hallway broke into an open planned kitchen made to accommodate a full staff.

Cabinets lined the walls and an array of pots and pans hung over a center island and behind that was a cooking hearth. Sitting on a stool talking with an older servant woman was Kisame, the burly and well muscled wielder of the Samehada, and one of the seven swordsmen of the mist. They both looked up when she entered the room.

"Could I help you?" The servant woman was quick to ask, standing up and brushing herself off.

"Please," Sika smiled, "is there any dinner left over?"

"Sure is," the woman grinned and then she turned and took a few steps away to put on a pan to heat some rice and vegetables for her. Sika hovered, her mouth watering and her gaze locked on the peanut sauce soaked goodness.

"Sika was it?" Kisame, with his rough voice and projecting tone, spoke up, grabbing Sika's attention.

"Yeah, that's me," she responded, turning to face him reluctantly to chew her lip. He didn't have his sword on him, but she knew he was dangerous. She wanted to stay away. He held her gaze as he flashed her a toothy grin and stuck out his band for her to shake.

"Put 'er there."

Sika came forward and shook his hand per requested. When she'd meet him prior he hadn't been nearly this friendly. His grip was firm and his hand nearly engulfed hers.

"Itachi told me this morning about something amazing you did. He said you broke Tsukuyomki. How'd that go down?" His tone was lax but he meant it quite hostile. Sika used her context clues to figure that one out. If he wanted to intimidate her he would have stood to loom over her smaller figure, but instead he kept a tight grip on her hand. She figured he was trying vaguely to threaten her.

"I don't know what that is," she replied, giving him a sideways glance. His expression didn't change. She wondered if Itachi had also presented him with her personal details.

"The leader comes from the leaf village's Uchiha clan, they have very special eyes," the shark man explained, "That genjutsu he cast on you is nearly impossible to break except for someone with the same eyes."

Kisame released her hand as the servant woman handed her a plate of food. Sika quickly dug in, glad to fill her stomach and glad to let go of the man's cold fingers.

"I don't know," she said between mouthfuls, "I asked my uh, I asked Lord Jashin to help me."

"What'd you say to him?" The man suddenly became very unimpressed. Sika wondered how long he'd been around Hidan.

"I just asked for help. It hurt so bad, but I wasn't sharing my pain. That's one of my commandments or whatever, I have to share," she rambled as the other woman brought her around a glass of water. She chugged it in one drink and asked for another. She was shoving food into her mouth at such an alarming rate she didn't think she could ever get full. She could see the disgust riding on Kisame's face.

"Anyway," he began, his tone much different, more relaxed, "Itachi asked me to give you a crash course in ninja training."

Sika chewed her food thoroughly for a moment before she answered. First of all the decision was already made. She would report to training, Itachi assigned it. Second of all, had she not told him that her new found God had broken the hallucination, he would have probably suggested it was his idea, as if, for some reason, her religion mattered.

"Sure," she said after swallowing, "whatever he wants."

"We'll start tomorrow then," the shark man said very matter of factly. Sika huffed.

"Tomorrow night, if you don't mind." She insisted.

Four in the afternoon seemed early all of a sudden. To someone who slept all day and stayed up all night it probably did feel early. It certainly did to Sika. When she finally drug herself outside to begin her training, the bags under her eyes were prominent.

Kisame was there waiting for her. He sat on the porch, waiting, and waiting impatiently by the way he stood up as soon as he noticed she'd emerged.

" 'bout time," the older man said, his voice gruff.

"Sorry. I've got a screwed up sleep schedule," she replied, very frank.

"I suggest you fix it," he returned, his tone more assertive. She didn't reply to that, only came off if the porch to pretend to check the footing of the would be training ground, a big field next to the house.

"I'd like some information on your skill set," Kisame spoke up, trying to pull her attention back to him. It didn't work. "If your going to be difficult then you can forget it," he wouldn't let her get the best of him.

"I'm thinking, thanks," she replied dryly. She noticed he was was very quick to act, he was aggressive, and she figured she had a long road before her with him.

"Well," she drawled, "I know how to play the flute, I can sew, I know how to cook a ton of stuff and I make a pretty good hot pot, uh, I," she would have continued babbling had be not cut her off.

"You know damn well I was asking about useful things," he growled, and she rolled her eyes.

She did know. She huffed and crossed her arms, turning to face him, "Okay. I've got zero control of my chakra, zero body conditioning, I know one Jutsu and I only know enough hand seals to cast it. That's it."

"Show me your genjutsu." He shot back, just as snarky.

Without further provoking, Sika turned to face the shark man square and set her feet a length apart. It'd been so long since she'd last done this, she'd almost forgotten how to call on her chakra.

She felt it stir deep in the pit of her stomach, the pulsing and churning with the sudden activation. She felt it surge under her skin. Wind, like a gentle breeze picked up around her as the aura of focused energy spread and it picked up a few locks of her hair. Then she wove hand signs.

Snake, ox, snake, horse, and then she formed the seal of confrontation, a common seal known as the universal sign of combat. She held her index and middle fingers near her mouth, her thumb placed gently over her other two curled fingers, and blew.

Kisame allowed himself to be caught in the jutsu, but after it took its hold, he wasn't sure if he would have been able to escape it. It reminded him of the sharingan, almost unavoidable, you were caught in the seconds it took to realize you were falling for it.

Another breeze drifted by, brushing his face gently with its sun kissed warmth and rose petal softness only to settle seconds after it was created. The once empty scented field was alive with the complimenting floral smells of Lemon balm, Easter Lilies, Morning Glories, and Sunflowers blended together without fighting for dominance. He could have swore he'd seen a cherry blossom petal float just out of reach too.

This wasn't a heavy feeling genjutsu, it was completely unlike all the others he'd felt and seen. If he hadn't watched her cast it he wouldn't of believed he was under the influence.

That was, until he tried to move. Telling his muscles to respond was like trying to teach a wolf to roll over, everything moved the opposite way it was supposed to. He tried to raise his hand to release the jutsu, but instead something in his leg twitched. When he tried it the other way, thinking his motor skills were reversed, but trying to move his leg caused his eyes to shut. Eventually everything stopped moving altogether and he worried his breathing would be next.

Sika released him herself with a hand on his shoulder, gently pulling him out of his trance. He hadn't moved from his spot, the scent of flowers lingering in the air. She stood next to him, a considerable amount shorter than him, looking up.

"Well?" She asked, unceremoniously.

It took him a second to reorder his thoughts and pull himself together. He looked down at her, his face blank in thought. Very slowly she retracted her hand.

"You need some work. You wasted a ton of chakra casting that, and in a fight where your needing all the help you can get, wasting chakra will cost you your life."

Sika had almost forgotten about that whole immortality thing again. It caught her off guard when he mentioned death. She stuck her hands in the pockets of her shorts and leaned away from him, relaxed, and drawled out her words, "I don't think we have to worry about me dying any time soon."

He seemed to get the picture. Sika honestly couldn't decide if living forever was a gift or a curse.

"Whatever. The enemy can still dismember you. It's happened to Hidan before," his replied, still gruff. She shrugged. He continued. " I think it's safe to assume that you have a water chakra nature since your from Kiri. I'm going to teach you chakra control first and foremost, basic academy skills, and then a couple more water based jutsu, and some taijutsu. Is there anything particular you'd like to learn?"

"I want to learn kenjutsu?" she offered, like it was a question, "my parents were both swordsmen. It's my heritage. And, you know, you are one of the seven swordsmen."

Kisame sat back down and cracked his neck while he thought that over. She wanted to learn his level of kenjutsu? It would have been easier for her to grow a third head, but, if she wanted to learn it he'd teach her. He had a little soft spot for kids that liked swords.

He heaved a heavy sigh.

"You said your parents were both swordsmen?" He asked, calmer and the mean spirit gone out of his voice, "and before you asked me if I knew your father. What was his name again? How do two ninja have a kid and leave her alone with no skills?"

"Otori, Shirasagi," she answered, "he and my mother forbade me from becoming a ninja. They said it was too dangerous."

"They were right," he replied halfheartedly, "what did they want you to do instead?"

"Well, I suspected from a young age I was being groomed to be somebody's wife, somebody very important. I think that fell though by the time I was eight or so, because then I got to learn things that actually matter. They let me go to school," she elaborated, "I mean, yeah, okay, I can arrange flowers, but I can also solve pretty complex math. While kids in the academy were learning to hit a target, I was learning the angle to hit it. You guys got that too, I'm sure, because fighting is a lot if angles, but I got it before I even held a weapon. There will be no bad habits to correct."

"Yeah, well you aren't any better off. You don't have the force to make the knife stick." His voice didn't sound impressed. Schooling did not equal skill. She wasn't any better off.

"But can I hit it don't I?" She shot back.

"Well I don't know, I've never seen you throw. Besides, that won't help you in a combat situation."

Sika shrugged. "Okay, yeah, that's true, but I'm also immortal."

Kisame face palmed.

So, as it turned out, Kisame did not shit around. The very next day Sika found herself with a sword in her hand. Okay, so it wasn't a katana like she wanted but it was a Bokken, which was close enough. It couldn't actually cut anything because it was made of wood, but it still left welts when it hit.

To be specific, it left welts on her skin when Kisame hit her with his.

He was faster, more powerful, more articulated, not to mention bigger. Sika knew he was going to be better than her, but she didn't think he was going to beat the shit out of her. Until she could start anticipating his movements she wouldn't make any progress, and two long hours were spent trying to match his movement.

He'd move right so she'd dodge left, only to be a half a second too slow. He'd swing to hit her leg, but she could never move her arm the right way after recovering from the last stinging strike. On an off chance she blocked him, he'd hit her anyway because she didn't have the strength to combat his swing. It was a good thing that she healed so quickly, no bruise or sore muscles stayed long.

Sika examined her skin with a childlike wonder as the long, straight, sword shaped welts faded, the blood trapped under her skin rapidly dissipating. She took a drink of her water and poked it gingerly, wincing when it still hurt just a little.

"So," she started, "am I particularly horrible at this or what?"

The shark man scoffed in to his water bottle, "not particularly, but your a beginner. Your defiantly horrible at this though."

"What am I doing wrong?" She asked, capping her own bottle and setting it down.

"Well first of all, your way too close to me," he replied, sheathing is practice blade, "and your not actively trying to gain the upper hand, your just trying, and failing, to block. Come at me like you mean it, don't just run away from me and flail your blade in to mine."

"Aren't we going to try again?" She asked when he reached for her Bokken too.

"Tomorrow. Let's work on something else."

So she handed the wooden sword over and took another drink of her water. "Chakra control?" She guessed.

"You got it." He grinned, sheathing her sword and setting them gently on the porch, "do you meditate?"

"No?" She replied, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Start," he said, "for now though, I want you to copy me."

Sika came closer. Very slowly he formed three hand signs, the first she recognized as snake, and then she felt his chakra spike. The hand signs ended in another snake sign and from his mouth he spat a small river. The water rushed from where it pooled at his feet, traveling behind him until it welled up in a single but powerful crashing wave. It only came up to her knees, and when the water settled it barely touched her toes. It had managed to knock her off balance, and Sika wondered what it would have been like if he'd wanted to hurt her.

Kisame spit and he covered his mouth to stifle a burp before he spoke, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, "think you can do it?"

Sika shook her head. She probably could.

"It's called the exploding water wall. It doesn't actually explode, but it feels like it does," he continued, "you need to learn to focus your chakra in a way you can use it. If you make the wave too big, you'll hurt me, if you make it too small, I'll hurt you. Just make yours the same as mine. Got all that?"

Sika nodded again, "yeah, but can you show me the signs again?"

He demonstrated again, going slow this time. He was so fluid and fast at signs it was almost tragic to ask him to slow down. He over exaggerated the way he moved his fingers and said the name of the sign out loud. He hadn't focused any chakra, so nothing happened when he ended, except for a better understanding for Sika.

Snake, ox, tiger, snake, it was simple this time around, and she practiced them a few times before she started.

Sika felt her chakra stir as she called on it. She could feel the tight coil in her abdomen loosen and contract as her pathways opened. It was hard to decide how much she needed, at first she'd called on so much it created wind when it disturbed the air, but when she released some, it felt like too little. Chakra was different for every person, so it wasn't like she could ask Kisame, she just had to go with her gut. She wove the hand signs.

Sika felt something burst inside of her, and she instantly felt like she was going to vomit. She'd done something wrong, she could feel it in her chest and it felt like fizz had come up her nose. She swallowed hard in a very poor attempt to keep it down, but with her stomach and chest swelling, panic was beginning to seize her brain.

"God damn, spit it out!" Her teacher shouted.

Water burst foreword from her mouth like a fountain, rushing past her tongue and her teeth. It was tasteless, but the air smelled like rain right after. She felt like she'd very violently threw up, and taking a breathe after hurt. Her first sharp intake forced water down the wrong tube and she choked, coughing and sputtering until finally she got ahold of herself and looked up.

The training ground was covered in water, more so now than when her teacher had cast the water wall. The soil was saturated, unable to absorb any more water than it already had, so the pair was left standing in mud and an inch of water. When Sika looked up, her teacher was grinning, ever so slightly at her, some sort of strange glint in his eye.

"What?" She asked hesitantly, almost afraid to ask.

Kisame put his hands on his hips and allowed his grin to overtake his face, "Do it again."

Running on water was harder than walking on it, walking on it was marginally harder than even standing on it, but when a huge, blue, shark man is coming at you full force with a Bokken, you learn pretty quickly that you can either wade through knee deep water and fall on your face, or you can learn to summon chakra to your feet and run on it. At least, Sika did anyway.

In just one week, she was now proficient in the water wall technique, but only her newfound speed was helping her today. For this exercise, Sika was unarmed and banned from using ninjutsu. To learn Taijutsu, Kisame had insisted that it was essential.

The shark man brought the wooden blade down on her, and she thanked God, er, Jashin, he hadn't hit her, because that strike meant something. She dodged right. When he angled the blade and swiped at her again, she jumped back, left, right, back, left, up, duck.

And then she saw an opening, he'd left his legs unguarded, and she moved to sweep them out from under him. Of course Kisame had left himself open, he had to throw her a bone once in a while, or else she'd never have a chance to practice her hits. Truth be told, it didn't really hurt, okay it did sting a little, but he was sure it was reciprocated when he brought his foot back and kicked her across the battlefield.

Sika crumpled to the ground, clutching her gut. Tears welled in her eyes, but she had to stand up, because he was still rushing her. She had to scramble to her feet together out of the way, but at the speed he was moving, she knew she couldn't. Closing her eyes, she braced her self, crouched down, balled her fist and threw it.

It collided with Kisame's sword, wood splintering everywhere and stopped when she hit his chest. When she opened her eyes, her hand was bleeding and her teacher was staring down at her, looking almost as surprised as she was.

"I, I uh, I'm sorry," she stammered, pulling her scratched and wounded hand from his chest.

"You don't apologize to people you punch. They get even," he replied, and sent her flying again.

"Alright, so you can create water, but now you've got to learn to use It to your advantage." Kisame had gone though the trouble of setting up four targets on various points of the field. He intended on teaching her his Shark Water Bullet, because the regular Water Bullet was too mainstream.

"So, basically what it feels like is coughing up a baseball. It's hard and sort of oval shaped, and make sure to keep your tongue out of the way because it has sharp edges on the teeth," Kisame's description had Sika sighing. So, it was nothing like a baseball?

"So, I just, like, cough it up?" She asked, brushing off his inaccurate description.

"No, this is completely different from the water wall," Kisame explained, "it doesn't just go, you have will it and aim it using chakra. You don't have a lot of room for error, it's fast and powerful."

Sika nodded, but it was almost painful to hear those words. Though it was true she was never sore, that didn't mean she had chakra reserves that went on for days. Her stamina was building along with her strength, but chakra wasn't something that it took a just few weeks to gain more of, it took months, maybe even years. But until then Sika was stuck budgeting her depleted deserves and praying she didn't bust a chakra coil somewhere important. This training was intense. She didn't have time to take breaks or save up extra energy.

Apparently today was just going to be one of those days.

"The hand signs for the regular water bullet are Tiger, Ox, Tiger, Rat. Focus your chakra like your creating the water wall, but at the last second I want you to channel it in to a stream. Once you've got that, we'll move on to the shark bullet," Kisame instructed, barking orders as usual in that gruff tone.

Yes. Today was one of those days.

Meditation had done Sika well over the last few weeks. It hadn't fixed her sleep schedule any, but it helped her control her chakra better. She could do everything better now, and she owed it mostly to her meditation. She threw punches harder now, she moved faster, swung her bokken like she meant it, and she was proud. She didn't care if her instructor was proud of her or not, she was proud if herself.

For as long as she spent in meditation, she thought it'd get easier and easier to begin, but it never did. It never got harder, but it also never got easier. She'd sit down, having just finished her after training bath, and finally around one in the morning she'd be ready to begin.

She found her mind drifting a lot when it was supposed to be empty. She thought about her training, her successes and her mistakes, and she thought about her instructor, and The leader, all held up in his leader room doing who knows what, but mostly she thought about the brothel.

It was weird, not being used. It was weird to be able to sit down and eat a decent meal, to gain weight and muscle and be worth something more than her weight in cash. It was weird not to be violated and humiliated every night of her life. She had all her own freedoms here, no man or woman could command her to do anything, especially if she didn't want to. Being able to choose meant so much to her.

Eventually she'd rein herself back in and get back on the task of meditation. It relaxed her after all.

After everyone else had gone to bed and it was just her and the moon, the time passed pretty slow. It was late nights like those that made her glad to be alive, and glad to be immortal.

The day Sika got her Katana, she cried.

At first she thought it was a trick, there was no way she'd improved this much in just six weeks, but Kisame insisted that she'd earned it.

She hugged him, tight, and thanked him up and down, and honestly he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. It was just a standard issue Katana, mid-grade and not in any way special. Itachi had a million of them and they were commonly sold used for pretty cheap. Then it occurred to him it wasn't just the gift she was so happy about.

"This is a dream, it's got to be a dream," she sputtered, sniffling and trying in vain to stop her dripping tears.

"I don't know why you find this so hard to believe," he teacher replied, peeling her off of him, "you had a talent to begin with. Combined with training under a ninja swordsmen, what'd you expect?"

She looked like she was hoping to combust. She had talent? Her of all people?

"Do you really mean that?" Her eyes sparkled and she grinned ear from ear.

He'd dug himself into a pretty deep hole here. Kisame shifted his weight from one foot to another. "I wouldn't call you a prodigy," he tested the waters, "but you might have been a top contender in your academy class."

Kisame wasn't good at praise, he knew it. He also didn't want to give her an inflated head. She was still low on the totem pole when it came to actual ninja work, but six weeks of marathon training and going from a civilian to a shinobi was pretty impressive, all quick learning aside.

The message of praise, However jumbled, got though to Sika. She was crying, laughing, juggling the sword and latching back on to hug her instructor, all while jumping up and down as emotional mess.

This had to be the happiest day of her life.

"Yeah, okay," Kisame tried in vain to peel her off of him again, "if you wanna keep your hands, you'd better get them off of me."

"Oh!" She exclaimed, jumping back from him, still clutching her katana, "I'm just so excited!"

He could tell. Shifting his weight again, he weighed his options. Well, he could just say 'so long' and be rid of her, or…

"You wanna go get some barbecue? To celebrate?"

Even if he hadn't gotten to know her very well (admittedly after that amount if time he should have), he knew she loved to eat.

"Oh!" She exclaimed again, "of course!"

"Hey!" A shrill voice bellowed over the training field, "I'm back! You miss me?"

"Hidan!" Sika shouted, spinning around. The Jashinist stood on the porch, looking no worst for wear. He had his hands on his hips and a smirk on his face, his three bladed scythe shone in the afternoon sun.

"Hidan, look!" Sika exclaimed, jutting out her new katana for him to see.

"You've been busy twerp," her laughed, "hey, come with me to the leader's office. I don't wanna have to tell the whole mission story twice."

Sika grinned, waved good bye to her instructor and the pair of Jashinists went running through the house after Kakuzu. The older man was waiting for his partner outside Itachi's office, and he was sort of suppressed to see Sika carrying a katana.

"What's that for?" He asked, observing her clutch the thing to her chest.

"Kisame said I earned it. I completed his kenjutsu program as well as his basic training program, I can make clones, I can climb trees, walk on water, the whole deal!" She was grinning ear to ear and her eyes were bright, her body trembled in both excitement and joy. Kakuzu didn't think he'd ever seen someone so happy.

The masked man gave her the best sentiment he could. "Congratulations," he replied, his voice monotone and seemingly uncaring. This time around, Sika didn't have to mistake his words. He actually cared, just a little.

So Kakuzu opened the door and the three filed in to the leader's office.

It was sort of dark inside, as usual. Itachi claimed bright light hurt his eyes, so his blinds were usually drawn and the Akatsuki leader used a dim lamp. He was seated at a low tea table, drinking warm tea and doing paper work, processing bounties and other contracts. Papers and pens scattered his work space, scrolls and ink spots married the mess of paper clips and staple pullers in unorganized chaos. Most of is work was diplomatic these days. He and his partner didn't see a lot of combat.

Itachi waited until his three guests had sat down to begin.

"Your two weeks late," itachi noted, his eyes looking droopy and his skin paler than usual. Sika would have thought him to be sick if she hadn't known better.

"Oh get off it," Hidan interjected, "not like we wanted to."

"Hidan," Kakuzu warned, glaring at him momentarily out of the corner if his eye. Begrudgingly, Hidan settled down and Kakuzu continued, "we had complications. We were forced to lay low for an extended amount of time, and then we had an issue with the target."

"Oh?" The leader said, looking unimpressed and condescending.

Kakuzu looked irked. "Yes. Turns out the brother of the target was also a bounty hunter. If Hidan hadn't mouthed off, we would have gotten done much sooner."

"Hey!" Hidan cut in, "I didn't mouth off! That guy had it coming!"

Itachi rose a hand to silence him and sighed.

"Did you collect?" The ebony haired man asked.

"Don't I always?" Kakuzu narrowed his eyes as he pulled a bag out of his cloak and slid it across the table, the familiar clinking of coins rustling all the while. He didn't look to happy about it, the treasure was never happy about giving up money. Itachi picked it up and set it aside.

"You're dismissed," the leader said finally, "Sika, I'd like you to stay."

"Sir," Kakuzu regarded, picking up a pair of mission report forms from the table and stood up, his old bones seemingly not giving him too much trouble. Hidan ruffled her hair on his way out, for once leaving wordlessly, and the door sliding on its track and shutting with a wooden 'clank.'

"What did you need, leader?" She asked in a soft voice, her smile not fading.

"Kisame informed me this morning that he decided to pass you. I can see he already gave you your reward," Itachi began flatly, "Would you like some tea?"

"Please," she replied. Careful not to spill it on his paperwork, Itachi poured her a cup. He pushed the steaming cup her way and caught her eye as she looked up to thank him.

"Now," he began after a fairly quick, comfortable silence, "I think a final exam is in order. Assuming you pass, you'll go on to sign an oath of loyalty, and from there you'll go on to assisting members. A superior officer will of course be there to help you."

"I'm ready now, I'll take any test you want," Sika replied, her confidence growing.

Itachi rose his eyebrows, "any test?" He asked, his tone unchanging.

"Any test," Sika agreed.

"Very well. Your task will be to fight me."

So, there was a lot of charater development in this chapter. We saw Sika's brain get occupied by "The Haze," We saw her come to terms with her time at the whore house, and we saw her recignize that shesactually worth more than what someone will pay for her. thats not to say shes not till reeling with the trauma. Anyway, I'd like to make a tiny note here in this chapter.

I am anti-rape Akatsuki.

Yeah, they're criminals, and yeah this universe is not the one the main storyline follows, but I don't believe an Akatsuki member, no matter, not even the especially horrible ones like Sasori, would ever rape.

The entire point of Sika's character is to represent battered women. She's a rape survivor, she's a poverty survivor, she was a sex worker, and the Akatsuki is a metaphor for better days to come for her. She has something to look foreword to. Friends, eventually, a stable job, and the ability to protect herself even when she feels so helpless from her psychological trauma.

I made Sika because more people should know that almost three hundred thousand rapes occur a year, those are not counting ones that go unreported or happen to kids under twelve. A rape happens every 107 seconds and a women is more likely to be raped than attacked by a shark.

One in four girls will be sexually assaulted in some way.

There are 42 MILLION sex workers across the world. These things should not happen. We should be outraged.

I like to include little messages in my stories. They are not always happy ones.

Also, thanks to my friend and google docs for fixing my errors an helping me along.

Please review people! I want your input!