Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

Chapter 16: Atrocity and Nemesis of the Sea

Sasori walked back into the storage space of his hovel where he left his new and newly indisposed partner. He held the door open behind himself and stood there for several moments to let the daylight flood in, seeing if she would acknowledge him on her own.

When she inevitably didn't, he unceremoniously slammed it shut to make sure she inevitably did. She jumped with the trauma and snapped to face him with her customary heated scowl.

This time, he didn't stop to bask in her reaction.

Instead, he slipped the letter out and tossed it softly by two fingers, letting it gracefully float its way to her lap. "Read," he ordered stoically.

Her unfriendly eyes searched his for a moment before she turned even half of her attention towards the paper he dropped. She finally picked it up and lashed it harshly with both hands before reading, stating in her own little way what she thought of his bitchy commands.

He gave her what seemed halfway between a smirk and a stern glance before finding his way to a plain wooden chair in the middle of the room. He forced it to the far corner with his leg and sat away from her in the shadows. Aside from the skinny rays of sunlight seeping through the boarded windows, the only real light source in the gloomy mansion was the oil lantern hanging beside Tayuya's bed.

As soon as she finished reading the letter, she simply ripped it in half, folded, and then proceeded to rip again. She chucked the tatters adrift, letting the large flakes of the assignment float uneasily around her bed space while her unlikely partner took spectacle from his shady spot. Afterwards, the girl crossed her arms stubbornly and gave him a daring look from her bed, and soon after, a low, groaning creak emulated from the corner as he leaned his chair back on its hind legs and folded his own arms in question.

"Okay, I'll pry. Why did you tear up our mission?"

She spat to one side of her bed. No one could possibly see how he reacted to this behavior from the darkness he watched her from. "I don't team up with people who aren't even ninjas." She replied with that hint of scorn in her voice she always kept good supply of.

The gloom around the corner he lounged in grew silent for a moment. Then his soft voice permeated the cold. "No?" The chair creaked again, but this time, it was followed with slam back down on all fours. He was up before anyone knew it; his tall shape stood upright, and he stepped out of his spot and to the foot of her bed. When she could see his face clearly against the orange lantern light, she noticed some blotches of white still glued to his cheek.

She crinkled an eyebrow. "Is that…bird shit on your face?"

He ignored the question. "What do I have to do to win your respect? Beat you at a spitting contest?"

"Hmmmm…" She dabbed her chin with a finger. "Not a bad idea. In fact, ladies first."

Before he could even cock his head, she made a rather unladylike nasal sound and sprang a long jet of her saliva at the puppet master. He didn't flinch even as it made contact with his cheek, springing to all sides. He gave her a concerned look, and then wiped the offended side of his face with his long sleeve.

As soon as he was polished enough, his arm dropped back to the side, and he stated with a courteous smile, "Thank you. …I believe that's the last of the bird shit."

Then, as if she had been rudely snapped from a dream, he dropped the charade and lunged at the bed all in the same flash instance, causing her to actually let up with a brief, startled scream. His impact against the mattress kicked up a huge cloud of dirt, smothering both of them with dust bunnies. Tayuya gagged openly. She had no idea that the man-bitch had left her bed so unsanitary even before putting her in it.

Even as her thoughts jumped, Sasori didn't relent. He toppled her chest and pinned both of her arms down with his knees. Then he pulled a kunai knife and held it horizontally, finger by finger, as if to measure. "Do you know what this is?" He asked her dangerously close up. "Do you know what I can do to you?"

She gritted her fangs. "Do it then! You wanna kill me? Be a fucking man and just do it! Show me you've got it in you!"

He twirled his wrist in a disturbing way and readjusted his grip on the ninja tool. Then he jerked it aggressively as if he would take her eye with it. "STAB!" he shouted in her face. Both of her eyes shut tightly in a flinch, and she bit down hard on her lip. "You're dead." He added calmly.

She recovered a bit and struggled more. "Wha- the hell are you fucking—"

"STAB," this time, he pointed the tip at her throat. "You're dead."

"The fuck is—"

"Stab—" Her temple. "You're dead."

"—going on?"

"Stab, stab, stab, stab, stab," he explored all of her vital areas at bladepoint as if he wasn't even thinking of them, all the while ignoring her confused protests. "Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead."

She finally fell completely silent. Only then did he dismount her torso and pull her up with the front of her shirt. "I'm not a jounin. But know what I can do? I can kill you eight times in eight seconds. And I tried – I really tried being nice, you know. I call for a gentle touch, but I can see that you're the kind of girl that would rather be pushed. So what do I do? I push."

She struggled against his grip, but no good. Her body still ached like hell, and now it had to shrug off a poison of all things bad and fucked.

He turned her towards the chair he sat in. "Push." He stated the verb as he did it. She almost soared into it at the force he gave, sending a few unnamed knick-knacks crashing to the ground as the chair caught her bottom.

Sasori didn't normally get violent with someone – at least not so personally – but every impatient killer had a bar, and she had already struck that today.

"Feeling a little friendlier now?" He asked, standing before her as she slumped between the arms of the beaten wood.

One of her eyes was closed in a painful wince, and she trembled to readjust herself. "That's…" She started with a pained grunt. Then she took up a grin that surprised him. "A little more like it."

"Eh? What's this, then?" He narrowed his eyes.

"What, you're not stopping now?" She gave an almost disappointed frown. "Come on, hit me again! Feels good! Feels like I'm back home! It may not be Sakon or Kimimaro, but I'm not picky."

He frowned. "What are you babbling about, girl?"

"Oh but don't you know, Okudo-kun?" She cooed. "That's how we do things around here. Oto isn't a village where we thrive on touchy-feely feelings for one another. Here, it's a god damn madhouse. We exist here because we're strong." She coughed painfully before she regained composure. "Here, if you don't have killing in you, you're not needed or wanted. You're either an animal, or one of the spineless fuckers out there they call 'human'. How do you think Orochimaru chose me?" She struggled to stand. Sasori gazed at her in such a way that someone could assume that there was nothing on his mind at all. "…Now I'm just waiting to see what the man sees in you." She stood up firm and strong to egg him on. "So come on, trash! Let's go again!"

"What he sees in me." He repeated while he dusted off his shoulders. "How lame. Is that why you think I'm here? To be an animal like you? Don't flatter yourself. I'm here because I have a reason to be, and nothing more. That Orochimaru chooses to accept me is between only us. If you're so near-sighted and scared to think that the only way you can survive is by being nothing but savage, you must not recognize the difference between you and me."

Her face blushed with anger. This time, she raised her voice. "Bullshit! How much difference could there be? I'm a kunoichi of the Sound! Could you say you've been through as much? Faggot?"

"You're right," he agreed. "I'm not like you. I'm not a kunoichi."

"Tch! Smartass…" Tayuya could have sworn she felt the Cursed Seal on her neck start to vibrate.

"All that you've done up to now is create assumptions that appeal to you. And maybe the biggest of all those assumptions is that a person has to be a ninja to be strong."

"So prove it otherwise!" She sneered. "How does being a normal person; being restricted from chakra and jutsu – power – mean that you're strong? All you did was attack an injured girl from a bed. What kind of shit have they been feeding you down there? Where is your fucking logic!"

"Logic isn't a problem with me," he insisted. "But I'm sure that someone as prejudiced as you wouldn't care whether or not it was. Poor girl. You've been living blind. But for all that it's worth, keep that way. I won't try to change you. As for me…" He kneeled down to one of his fallen puppets, now in practical shambles, and cradled it delicately by its ugly head. "I believe that humans…well, most humans…have a bigger and brighter purpose for existing than just to be torn apart by each other." He proceeded to walk past Tayuya, out the door back into the light. "Sometimes all they need to do to realize that is come to the right person. But...let's just say I can definitely sympathize with your outlook." His calm face hardened. "Not to say there was any call for what you did. Spit on me again, bitch, and you'll be tasting nothing but numbness and floor wax for the rest of your days."

He let the puppet go. It clattered loudly against the floor as he slid the door open and stepped out. Then he turned back, and as if he had completely forgotten about the argument, casually asked "Any groceries you want? …I'm getting supplies before we head to the Land of Rice Patties. Because whether or not you tore up that missive, we still have the mission, you know."

Instead of answering, she just looked away, still sitting in the chair.

He took the hint, and slid the door shut.

She was on her own again, sitting with just the small beams of light and particles of dust haunting the air at her company. She seemed to hold her breath for the longest time, and broke her own silence with a mutter.

"Hmph… Blind, huh? You're all talk. Piss off…" But then a sharp pain coursed through her neck. Her Cursed Seal. She grimaced, clutching it with one hand while she steadied her woozy, throbbing head with the other. "Ugh...what the hell just happened to me?"

The human puppet departed from the porch.

With an exasperated sigh, he glanced around cautiously, than breathed softly on his necklace. It glowed with an ominous green. On cue, he heard a light clatter of roof shingles and looked up to see his agent, Bloody Mari, crouching passively on his house like a decoration meant to frighten demons away. She stared down at him with inanimate eyes and a stiff face; only the locks of black, tattered hair drifting in the soft breeze were what moved amongst the girl.

"Make sure she stays put. She becomes any trouble, you know what to do."

The puppet's rusty eyes shifted creepily as it watched its master leave.

He walked up to the village square and took note of the crossroads he was standing on. They sprang out in four cardinal directions.

He turned one direction, dedicating each area to memory. 'North Base.' He turned his head to survey. 'One of those damn experimentation labs he's so proud of.'

Sasori's memory was almost photographic. He instantly recognized faces of people he had seem before, even in large crowds he passed only once. It was his especially high IQ that made him famous for every high class jutsu he knew, handsign for handsign.

Taking in his environment, he quickly made a mental map and proceeded with his errands. He was happy to go by himself. He didn't need any certain steam-headed girl haggling for what to get with him every step of the way.

Not that any of the venders looked positively jovial to do business with him, but Oto was surprisingly well-stocked. Sure the city sort of looked like grotesquely optimistic landfill, but at least Orochimaru owned a village. If he didn't, then Sasori would have just been disappointed. He couldn't expect that anyone would be willing to keep a defected Akatsuki member well-funded, cozy Sannin reputation or no. But then again, Orochimaru always had the palpable power of persuasion.

Did Sasori need anything of his own for this mission? Nothing long of a few ninja tools that needed replacing. The human puppet was not high maintenance; his fighting style was. Recognizing his irritating partner's inevitable need to eat, drink, and sleep, he perused a few food carts, and then followed up with a convenience store to fetch her a rollup futon to recline on. Bitch or no, this was as much about getting Orochimaru to drop his guard as it was about winning his target's trust.

Looking at him, no one would think that Sasori was carrying a single coin. Everyone agreed that he always looked so…light. At least outside of baggy old Hiruko. But the puppeteer had long since taken to Kakuzu's advice. There's no cozier place for your money than yourself. The ancient man kept only some of his savings in that big briefcase he always hauled around, it's true. But later on, he would take the money out and cram it under his own skin much like you would think to do with your old mattress. The method struck morbid to Sasori at first, but over time he began to see the logic. In spite of how gross it looked, the weird black slime that the treasurer of Akatsuki kept under his hide actually kept the money clean, while coating it in a durable substance that kept it from wearing and tearing. This method of handling his cash earned him a strange nickname - the "Human Wallet".

Admittedly Sasori didn't have any symbiotic slime of his own, but he did have the art of wright and engineering. In his torso was a hollow compartment exclusively for money-keeping. He was many things, including his own private bank.

Making sure nobody suspicious was eyeballing him, he snuck a hand under his cloth and opened the small cell containing his savings. He pulled out a handful of cash and coin, and made his purchases accordingly. He was happy to shop without anyone bitching him along, but that didn't stop him from hating the errands. He always left the shopping to Deidara. He never went out; not a huge people person. But if the Sound girl really was what he tried so hard to convince Pein that she was, he'd be gloating for weeks to come after he finished up with her.

Hours passed. By the time he was all done, the day was dying. He hauled the bags of supplies back to the place he kept Tayuya. Normally he would use one of his transportation puppets – such as Hiruko – as a wagon for them instead, but he'd rather not show off his Suna-exclusive talents in open water. 'When I talk to people about how long it's been since I used myself, I didn't really have this kind of thing in mind.' He thought from under a strain.

The unlikely shopper nodded to Mari as he approached the steps, and she departed from her post with a whistle and whirlwind of dead leaves.

He opened the door to the large hovel and helped himself in. "Got your medicines." He announced with his arms full of bags, "foods…water…other miscellaneous crap." Even a squint from his eyes couldn't make him see any better. The oil lamp was hardly burning. The place was dark as a tomb. "That's okay," he called. "I got light bulbs too. Though might I boast that the feudal age candles and lanterns were an elegant touch."

No answer. Not a single curse.

"…Tayuya?" He called, shambling his way over to the bed with his extra loads. He set them on the bed and proceeded to refuel the lamp. "Answer me." The room became recognizable again with newly rekindled light. He surveyed the area and spotted something lying motionless on the ground. Something that looked…smartass girl-shaped.

His eyes sparked with alert. Perceiving the dire situation, he paced to her rescue and threw her arm over his shoulder to bring her to her feet. Her head bobbed groggily, but a groan escaping her lips was just enough to prove that she was still alive.

He walked her slowly towards the bed. "Idiot," he scolded even as he rested her head against the pillow near the groceries. "Why do you keep overdoing yourself?" But then he looked back at the dust-kicked spot where she must have fallen and realized. She didn't move from that chair since he left her. And that means…

He hung his head to his own stupidity. How long had it been since she had actually eaten something?

He put his ear to her mouth to listen for her breath, since feeling for her temperature was kind of a loss with him. She was taking slight exhales, but barely strong enough to fog a mirror. He ruffled his hair. 'Shit. I almost killed my jinchuuriki just by shopping for it. Am I really so terrible at this lifeguard thing?' Without wasting another moment, he dug into the bags and pulled out a jug of water, a bag of grapes he got on the market, and a small canister of pills he fashioned and prescribed to her himself.

Pouring a glass out for her and giving the tablets an urgent shake, he dropped one into the icy beverage. While he let it dissolve, he hastily rinsed the fruit and prepared to wake the ailing kunoichi again.

"Hey. You." He shook her gently. "I'm talking. To you. On. Start. Play. Run. Activate." He tried all sorts of robotic commands to bring her back to consciousness, none of which seemed to do the job. He ultimately sighed stressfully and leaned in. He was inches from her face when he mumbled, "live."

Her eyes shot open, and she instinctively pushed him away from her as she panted doggedly. Between her sickly skin and the beads of sweat on her forehead, Sasori didn't need to check her temp to know how dehydrated she was. And now wasn't the time to get snippy with her. Senseless as he learned she was, she might even refuse to let him save her depending on what she thought his intentions were.

She wasn't even strong enough to hold a scowl up to him. All she did between breaths was whisper from a weak, coarse voice "Thirsty…"

"I know, Tayuya," He took the glass of water from the nightstand and held it delicately to her mouth. "You need to drink now."

Her eyes seemed to glint at him in defiance for a moment, but it was a very short one. She complied with his instruction. He continued to hold the beverage to her lips until she eventually put her own hand to it to show him she was strong enough to hold it on her own.

He stepped away, giving her room to breathe, deciding that it was too much to hope for that she'd be complaisant enough to let him put the sheet and blankets back over her.

She guzzled the entire glass in what seemed like two gulps, afterward wiping her mouth with a refreshing quench.

"More." She demanded plainly, her voice already stronger and clearer.

He nodded and proceeded to pour another glass. Somehow he felt that the medicine he slipped in the water would be better left unmentioned. Who exactly knew how she would take it. "You should eat, too," he suggested.

"I'll eat if I'm hungry." she declined with irritation. "Right now I'm dry and flaking like a fucking fossil, so shut up and hurry with that drink."

"It's right here," he replied in a tone bordering the impatient. To her he was already holding a renewed supply. "Now do as you say."

She jerked it from his hand, spilling a few drops, and saturated herself again. Sasori went back to his chair, feeling as if he had violated some sacred accord with himself just by helping her.

By the time he was through with her, well over half of the water in that big jug he brought over had been depleted. "Yikes," he smiled softly. "You drink like a camel." She frowned at him, ungrateful for the remark. "How are you feeling?" He added.

"…Better." She turned her head away. "…For how much you must care."

"Tayuya, if I didn't care, I would've just let the floor keep you."

She snapped her head back to confront this comment instantly. "Then why do you care?" She burst. "Huh? Because last time we spoke, I almost got you to kill me."

He narrowed his eyes sternly. "You do love holding on to your grudges, don't you? If you're curious, it was to show you how not to spit and curse someone at least while you're still bedridden."

The word 'bed' triggered an unpleasant memory in Tayuya. "And that's another thing!" She persisted, "Where did you get your damn diploma in medical ninjutsu for possibly thinking it was sanitary to put your patients in beds without bothering to clean up after the mummies that were there first?"

"It was either the bed, or the hard, cold, equally dusty floorboard. But look here," he fished something else out of one of the bags. "Have a futon." He tossed it out to her lap, and she snorted indignantly at it.

"Wonderful. What does this one have, smallpox?"

He smiled sportingly. "One way to find out."

"Bullshit. There're two ways. You could shine a black light on it, too."

Sasori facepalmed. Now she was just saying things all to prove him wrong. "Well they didn't exactly sell those at the market, so why don't you just consider sleeping in it."

"Why don't you just consider shitting in it, fucking it, then choking yourself on it instead." She sneered. "I have a bigger one back at the barracks, anyway."

He rolled his eyes. "Little angry girls really shouldn't be spouting fire in glass rooms, you know…"

"Thanks Confucius, whatever the hell that means."

"It means be grateful." Her frown diminished and she turned towards him to see what a serious change of tone he had. "Nobody wants to save a little girl that can't even express gratitude. I certainly wouldn't." Flushed with outrage, she hastily opened her mouth to respond, but he cut her off. "And before you say that you won't need me again, consider this. Did you imagine that this kind of thing could ever happen to you, thinking back a week ago, when you were preparing to fetch Sasuke-kun for Orochimaru?"

Her surprised eyes grew larger. "How do you know about—"

"Did you ever imagine that you'd meet someone like me who would make so many attempts to keep you alive? Or did you plan on simply throwing your life against a brick wall again and again for Orochimaru until it finally busted its chop?"

She was speechless. But instead of pouting the other way whenever she got into similar disagreements with Kimimaro or lost an argument with Karin, she simply looked at him. Maybe it was remembering who had gotten her the flute. Maybe it was remembering who had gotten her a gift, nursed her back to health, and did it all without so much as "you owe me". But why? Why would he go so far for so little? She wanted to ask him this question so badly, but because of her…well…maybe unreasonable response, it was needless to even hope that she deserved a straight answer at this point.

Maybe…maybe she needed to handle the approach differently. Maybe part of getting to tolerate her new teammate was more about – hell – at least not spitting at his face for bringing her into his new home, however musty and unkept.

"What is wrong with you? I just gave you a flute, revived you, and you continue to badmouth me. Just tell me what I'm doing to make you hate me so much."

"I..." She put a hand to her head again. She suddenly felt weird; disoriented again, like the first time she lashed out at him earlier in the day. "I don't know what to say. Just...mad, I guess." She fidgeted uncomfortably. It was all she could do. She didn't know why she was so defensive towards him. Maybe it had something to do with her last mission. None of the staff at the hospital wanted to talk about it. Couldn't hurt to ask Kabuto what he knew before they headed out for the mission. Just so she was certain she wouldn't endanger it. She just felt so...weird.

"'Just mad you guess.' OH - mystery solved." He gave a sarcastic clap and got up. "I'm sorry. I think I need to be away from you a bit longer. Help yourself to the food I got when you're ready to eat, and bask in what's left of the time you have away from me. It won't last." He walked towards a pass probably leading to another part of the house. "When you're healthy enough to walk again…we have our first mission together."

Her heart gave a slight flutter, worried that she might be missing her chance to turn the discussion around. But all she could manage out was "Look forward to it…" And she wasn't sure if he even heard her based on the volume she used.

She gazed down at her almost bare lap silently, as if trying to rediscover where she was - who she was - perhaps unaware that Sasori was watching her sit for a bit longer from around the corner, before turning his heels to fully exit the room, a slightly troubled scuttle in his step.

"There she is! Monster!"

"Demon!"

"Get outta here! You're bad luck!"

What could the girl do? She ran.

She ignored the pain of her bare feet running over the small rocks. She ignored the chaffing that the bandages she had covering various parts of her body gave off against her skin as she struggled to keep pace away from the stones flying at her.

"Never come back!" Another juvenile voice shouted after her.

They chased along the coastline. The wash of the waves drifting on the great sea beyond could be heard from miles, and the salty breeze provided awful resistance for the girl to get away from her pursuers. She was already gasping for breath. 'Have to…just a bit further…'

But a stone hit her just right, square on the back of the head. She toppled forward and flew off her feet, plunging face-first into the sandy shore. She scrambled to her knees and coughed up a mouthful of grainy earth. It was no good now: she was surrounded.

All around her, children with self-righteous fury in their eyes, driven mad with a zealous belief that they were purging their village of some great evil. Some of the kids were as young as six; others could have been as old as eighteen. Overtime, however, the victimized girl lost touch of the age difference. To her, there was no more a sense of innocence in the toddlers as in the older delinquents, and every rock hurled at her hurt just as much as the others.

And more came. It was all she could do to get her arms up and hope that they ran out of objects to throw soon. But like that was ever the case. It had always been this way; day in to day out. There was somehow always a limitless supply at their perverse disposal.

"Demon lover! Go back to your nest and stay there!"

She braced herself, but did not beg for mercy. Never did her any good before. The same ruthless mob that didn't listen yesterday wouldn't hear her today. That much was apparent.

"Die!"

Another rock struck her shoulder. She grunted in pain, but bit down on her teeth. It was big enough, though, to make her sink to her side.

Instantly, the circle of bullies around her seemed to become half as wide. Faces were closing in around her. Malicious, hateful faces. Evil faces.

"Today's the day, isn't it, monster? Time we settled this." It was Jovashi. He was the biggest, oldest dog in the pack, and that was probably why he was considered the leader.

"No…don't, p l e a s e…" She croaked. She had been hit so much that she was almost too exhausted to beg for her life even if it was the first thing she wanted to waste energy on. She couldn't believe it. She knew that they had done things before; vandalized her shack, beaten on her, called her names and cursed her to their insatiable hearts' content, but this time…she may not be able to just shrug it off and walk away.

Jovashi was a sadistic kid who was obsessed on proving that nothing with him was a bluff. And as she watched him, tearing a rock half her own size off of the earth with angry muscle – the other kids cheering him on – she had to wonder to herself what – just what – about her had made them so especially angry today? All she did was pass a glance, a glare even, but how could that excuse her position?

They were too far out on the coastline from the village for any of the parents to talk their children down. This could be it. They might actually get away with…

Her eyes flashed open in sheer adrenaline. No. Not here. Not now. She didn't give a damn if she was a monster.

The girl's panic broke through, but she refused to let her body give into it. Instead she scrambled to her feet and made another attempt to split. But another kid tripped her before she could escape the circle, and a few more pebbles pelted her for good measure. "Going somewhere, creature?"

"Pin her down!"

She could fight back. She could. She might be strong enough to square off with the whole gang on her best day. But…she wouldn't have felt herself. It just wasn't in her.

Two kids, not as old or big as Jovashi, seized her by both arms as the head honcho came around with the rock over his head. Behind him, the sun was bright orange, resting on the horizon. The sky was darkening.

The girl's eyes glazed over as she watched him stop in front of her. 'This is it…'

"This for every life you've taken, demon."

Her eyes shut tightly. Her lip quivered uncontrollably. 'I…'

The boy's eyes suddenly expanded with rage. "This is for Dad!"

'I'm really gonna die…!'

The rock went flying. But not where anyone expected.

From a great crunch of shattering earth, fragments of the practical boulder skipped a mile out into the open sea. The scornful rallying from the group of children had ceased.

All of it…had ceased.

"Hu-huh?" Jovashi's eyes were wide; this time in fear, and his face had come down at least two tones in color.

"My, my…" The humungous sword that had decimated the rock clear from over his head swung around with its familiar gauze as its owner sheathed it to his back. "This is quite the melodrama… All this talk of demons and sea monsters… But doesn't it seem a bit much to be taking all this heat about it out on an unarmed girl?"

"Who-who's that?" One of the other kids cried out, pointing at the monstrosity.

"I'm-m scared…!" One of the youngest of the group had already begun to tear up.

"Don't tell me this is…!"

The figure, towering at least a good two feet taller than the group's top dog, ambled slowly into eye of the circle to stand beside the beaten and nearly-sobbing girl. The two boys holding her in place had long since abandoned their jobs.

"This is the real Demon of the Sea?" Renewed and redirected panic filled the coastal air.

"Have some courtesy, boys," a smile full of barbed teeth flourished, "this isn't how gentlemen are supposed to treat ladies."

The girl had opened her eyes to him for the first time, and the first thing she noticed wasn't even his aquatic features – it was the red clouds on his coat. They had almost tricked her eyes into thinking she was looking at the evening sunset, but she quickly realized that this particular sunset belonged to the man who had probably just saved her.

Some of the kids, mainly the younger ones, were frozen on their tracks in shock. Others were probably already home under their beds by the hysterical speed they used to flee.

Jovashi may have been startled by the man's sudden appearance, but that didn't mean he intended to flee. He shook off the shock of the moment and shouted, "Another one? How many of you damn creatures have to spawn before you figure out how much you're not wanted!"

"Before you go getting any bright ideas, boy, I suggest you apologize to her before you deal with me."

The thug's hands tightened into fists. "The hell do you think I am? Some demon sympathizer? You can join her at rock bottom!"

He threw a hard right hook, which the larger man easily sidestepped. When he lunged and tried to run him with a straight, his hand was easily caught. A pair of beady white eyes appeared behind it with a horrifying smile almost ear-to-ear. "You're no Mighty Guy, boy."

He twisted on Jovashi's wrist. The girl crouched behind him winced with the gruesomely audible snap-snap that came afterward. The teen fell to his knees with a tormented howl, clutching for not only his broken wrist, but his practically ravaged arm.

"Hehehe, Samehada revels in the sound of your bleating. Shall I finish what you started then?"

"No…!" His frenzied smile disappeared. This word didn't come from his prey, but from the abused girl who had run up between the two. "Please don't!..." She had her arms spread side to side, still fraught with bandages.

"What are you doing, girl? Shouldn't you be getting home? This is no longer your affair. Your life is your own again."

She didn't answer. But she didn't give up her position, either. Jovashi was still behind her, kneeling to contain the coursing pain.

The giant sighed. "I'm trying as best I can to understand the rationale for protecting your would-be killer from your savior. But maybe there's just something you get that I don't?..."

"I know how it looks," her eyes were dry from the tears, "but it's not their fault. He wasn't even going to kill me. They wouldn't have gone through with it."

He leered impatiently down at her. "What an awful liar you are. Step aside."

"No!" She protested. He tore his sword off from his back in response. She continued anyway. "You don't know what I am! Maybe I deserved it!"

Before she saw it coming, he delivered a powerful slap to her face, almost strong enough to be indistinct from a punch, because she flew far to the side and saw nothing but stars afterward. "Yes," he called back. "I do know what you are. And no. How dare you say you deserve it." He turned back to the cowering boy and brandished his sword at him. "None of us…deserve it."

Jovashi was either too far gone with pain, fear, founded guilt, or a good dose of everything to speak another intelligible word.

Kisame raised his sword, saying one last thing to the knee-bent child. "Filth like you…is the reason that filth like me exists."

Samehada came down. Hard.

The girl was still recovering from her temporary blindness as she heard his heavy footsteps draw close. When she came completely to, her face darkened with realization as she saw the blotches of a dark red color absorb into his unnatural sword. "You didn't…" She mouthed in a state of bewilderment.

"Go and see for yourself," he said nonchalantly, walking past her to get a view of the ocean.

She turned to the direction he came from and cuffed a hand over her mouth in grief. A new wave of tears flooded her eyes. "No…" A pool of blood – nothing but a large stain on the coast – was all that remained of Jovashi. A boy whose life was cut short before he even became a man…all because of a stupid rumor.

She took her face away from it. She couldn't look. "could you…" It was barely a mumble, but even from as far off as he was standing, Kisame turned.

"What?"

"How could you…?" She repeated herself again and again, each time with more fire behind her tone. "How could you? How COULD YOU?" She rushed him and tried to bring him down with everything she had, but he ended her approach with a swift blow to the gut. She fell to her knees, incapacitated.

"Because you're me." He answered calmly. "And since because I know you're me, I don't appreciate being treated that way." He turned back to watch the last of the sun depart into the waking sea. "You just be grateful I only killed one of them."

"Who…" She gasped and huffed to regain her lost breath. "Who do you think…" She gave up trying. He struck her too hard for her to squeeze any words of relevance out.

He continued staring out, breathing in a deep nostril of fresh ocean breeze. "So this is the Land of Sea. I've missed it so much." He stared on for a few more moments as the girl he rescued recovered, and then turned to pat her on the shoulder. "Relax. It's just one life. You should be fine in a day or two."

She froze, as if trying to process whether what he just said was a sentence or not. "Relax?" She spat up at him. "How can I relax after what I just saw you do to a child? You have no right…"

"I have full right. As I said before, we're the same. And I'm over it already. Didn't even need to know his name. That's how fast it went." He gave her head what was meant to be an encouraging pat and turned to depart. "Have a good one."

He was about five steps off when she spoke again, finishing the question she tried to ask earlier. "Who do you think…is going to be the person to tell Jovashi-san's parents what happened to their boy?" She struggled to keep the grief under.

Kisame stopped at his heels. From under his neckband, he replied. "And I don't even get a thank you. That's no good… Shall I pay his parents a visit and complete the set? Then will you be happy?"

"No," she spoke up with indignation. "Do you even hear your own suggestions?"

"I do," he answered.

"You say we're the same, but you couldn't be more wrong." Suddenly, as if to the snap of a twig, her emotions soared to the limit, and she screamed at him. "The boy you killed disappeared chasing me! Now it's MY responsibility to go back and explain what happened to him! How could you do this to me?"

He rubbed his head. "Okay, now I'm confused. Are you saying that I should've just let you die?"

"That is exactly what you should have done!" She retorted. "Better a warm-blooded person allowed living than a cold-blooded one. And now when I go back they'll, they'll crucify me!"

His frown deepened. "Do you need another smack, girl?"

She grunted in startle and ultimately lowered her head. "There's just no reasoning with…someone like you, is there. You really have…no idea what you've just taken."

"It's called a life, and it isn't the first to go, you know." He walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. She tried to shake it off, but it just made him hold firmer. "It's not that I can't be reasoned with. You're just not making sense, my dear. Saying that it's better a warm-blooded person is allowed to live than a cold-blooded one is just like saying that warm-blooded murder is more appropriate than a cold-blooded murder. People are people; murder is murder." He gently took her hand and used it to wipe a distraught tear from her now void eyes. "What's your name?"

She stared on as if she was gazing right through him, even as he tilted her chin up to look him in the eye. After a long moment, she broke contact and murmured her answer down at his feet,

"Isaribi."

Then, Isaribi," he continued. "So long as the prejudice we've both experienced today and all the times that came before continue to exist – which it always will…I can safely guarantee by that lovely name of yours that there will be plenty of time for both the murder you hate so much and the people that you should remember empathize with you."

She stared down emptily at the pebbles and sand under her feet, and was reminded only of the horrible stones that assaulted her.

Kisame took his hand off her shoulder and began to shove off once more, hauling his greatsword effortlessly over his shoulder as he advanced up the hill towards the port.

As he walked away, leaving tracks in the wet sand for the tide to pick up after, he called back using only the volume of his voice. "And among the people that empathize with you, you might as well remember Hoshigaki Kisame; Monster of the Hidden Mist…and the cold-blooded person that saved your measly life."

The village pariah gazed mournfully down at her hands, clasped together in a tight cuff. She tried to keep trauma to a minimum, but no matter how firm she commanded her body to stand, the poor girl continued to tremble.

It was another cold day. Then again, all days seemed pretty cold when you spent them living in an aquarium at the base of a dimly-lit laboratory. At the metal bottom of his bland, watery prison, a nude boy lounged about with his leg crossed over, twitching his foot as if to a hidden rhythm as his arms folded neatly behind his head in relaxation.

Then his head shifted, as if something had gotten his attention, and he let himself float up off his resting spot. He put his hand to the reinforced glass wall keeping him in, and got the attention of one of the few scientists supervising him.

A razor-sharp smile spread over his mouth like a disease. Between the evil face and the murky blue thickness of the water, the man in the white uniform nearly pissed himself, much to the boy's amusement.

"Hey," he called, his voice hindered by a slight muffle over the glass. "Today feels like a special day, today. Know why?"

"What are you talking about?" The man inquired nervously. "Go back to your business, Project Hōzuki."

The captive boy's grin turned into a disdainful frown. "Suigetsu." He corrected wearily, as if he had made the same one hundreds of times before. "Just thought you should know that something today has made me particularly happy. Wanna know why?"

The man decided to humor his subject. "Why, Suigetsu?"

His smile returned. "I think I'm going home soon."

The man shook his head to oppose the idea. "That's for us to decide, Project Hōzuki. We're not done running your tests yet. I'm afraid you can't leave."

But the look in the subject's eye drove chills up his supervisor's spine, and he oh too eagerly continued to make his routine rounds away while Suigetsu just kept smiling.

…And smiling…

…And smiling.

Yes, it would be shocking should any of these researchers suddenly discover that really, Suigetsu could leave whether they consented to it or not.

But as far as he cared at this point, that was their problem.

"Sorry boys," the disclosed words never reached the outside of the tank, "That's the way things float here. The lower overcoming the higher…"

A/N: Chappie was a bit of an angsty downer today, yeah. The next one will have more humor for those of you who care, I promise. I just have to keep a consistent flow on the theme of the story not so that it turns into an overdrama, but so people take it seriously enough where it counts. This isn't a crack fanfic, after all. [It's real life. O,o]

Those of you unfamiliar with Isaribi, go amend yourselves by watching the filler arc (it's a good'n, I promise; my personal favorite). Mutant sea monsters with self-esteem issues and skin complexes are riots.