"Jin."
"Sayuri-dono."
"Katsu-kun."
"Saya-chan."
The three friends stood in a circle among the tall grass that tickled their knee's. The grandfather oak tree stood firmly just beside them, the clunks and clatters of the wood chimes echoing along the salty air.
"Okay, no matter what, once we make this promise then there's no going back. Got it?" Saya held out her palm. In her other hand, she held a jug of sake along with three small cups clinging to her fingers.
"Where did you get the booze?" Jin asked, raising a brow.
"I swiped it from my fathers office. He won't notice its missing. He hardly ever drinks from it, anyways."
"Of course, Sayuri-dono."
"You're also not allowed to call me that anymore, Jin."
Jin's serious face broke into a cringe as he shuddered with protest.
"But Sayuri-don-"
"Saya. Call me Saya." The look on her face made Jin pause, then lower his refusals into a momentary hush. She looked to Katsutoshi. "Got it, Katsu-kun?"
"But I already call you Saya, Saya-chan."
"You know what I mean."
"If you say so." He said with a smile. The boys held out their hands as she gave them each a cup, filling each as well as one for herself.
"That's it then. Friends for life." The two boys grinned back at her.
"Friends for life." They echoed together. Then, with three swigs, each downed the bit of alcohol they had, followed up by chokes and coughs from the unexpected bite it had to it.
…
…...
…...
"Friends for life."
Saya lay languidly on the floor of a place she didn't know, nor did she care.
An empty bottle of sake rolled from her, across the dusty wood floor and stopped at the wall of what would be a hotel room. The tiny window just above the bottle filtered in an afternoon ray of sunshine, the particles in the air swirling in their spotlight as if dancing for an audience that, of course, was too busy being piss drunk to care.
Her face harbored a listless expression as she rolled onto her back, draping an arm across her face. She snorted at the memory.
"Friends for life my ass."
…
….
…
"Get outta the way."
So.
This was Matsuko Hajii, Saya thought.
What a monkey.
He trudged his way past the ladies and the girl who yelped, nearing the entrance that stood just behind Saya and Susuki. As the man came upon them, his men following suit, he came to a stop just in front of Susuki. As if momentarily distracted, he gave Suzuki a look that left Saya pitying the poor woman.
"Move it, street-scum. I'm not in the mood to deal with your wile." He ordered her. Saya had to wonder for a moment, if only amoment. Okay, so this guy specifically reserved Hisoka for the night, along with some other girl who's too unimportant to mention. It's not as if Hisoka was a toad, but she wasn't any prettier than Susuki, and if anything, Susuki was more the woman that she was. It was in her figure, her stance, and the look in her eyes. Hisoka, while as previously mentioned not ugly, was pretty enough, but she exuded the air of a girl, and one that would wrestle to get what she wanted if she had the need.
So the question in her mind was: Did this guy have a fetish or something? A preference in women?
If that was the case, then he wasn't much of a womanizer, was he? Just, maybe, a pervert or something. Or maybe he actually had a thing for Hisoka?
Then again, he did ask for that other girl. What was her name again? Bah, it didn't matter.
Still…
Saya eyed the man that Akatsuki was after, trying to characterize him just as she used to do with her prisoners back in her captain days.
Susuki, with a sly smile, moved to the side and gestured with her hands.
"Of course, right this way gentlemen."
The man didn't even give Saya a glance as he brushed past her, followed once again by his group of thug-looking men. As some of them went by, however, they gave Susuki predatory smiles and small jeers that would have had most women blush. But as it was, Susuki didn't even bat an eye as she waited for them to pass, then casting Saya a wink, she slid over to her in a step.
"I say we find a good place to watch the show. I'm sure this'll be good."
"No, it'll be over in seconds." Saya muttered.
"Seconds? That's impossible."
"No, it's not," Saya shrugged, "Uchiha probably already set up something that'll leave little collateral damage. I don't know the boy that well, but he doesn't seem the sort to like to make a big bang."
"Wait a moment." Susuki paused. "Did you just say Uchiha? As in, that prestigious clan that was just slaughtered in Konohagakure?" Saya wondered if this was a good thing, or a bad one. Of course a big trading city like this would get wind of something like that.
"What of it?" She asked, masking her caution.
"Horrible!" She gasped. Saya cringed, wondering if she would need to summon her chakra. She shouldn't let it get out who Itachi was, or more so, where he was. "Has he heard what'd happened to his clan? He must be devastated!" And with that, Saya's tensed shoulders relaxed and she chuckled. Right, of course, leave it to this woman to be ignorant to the fact that Itachi actually was the murderer.
"I'm sure he's heard. Best not mention it." She said. "Might bring up unwanted memories. And we wouldn't want this to go around. It might bring him unwanted attention." Susuki nodded vigorously, an understanding frown marred her face. With a sigh, Saya turned to the entryway. "Got any food? I'm starved."
A few minutes later, Saya was in a back room at a dainty table, sitting in front of a bowl of some type of rice and pickled eggs. She wondered idly how old the eggs were, so pushing them aside, she finished the last of her bowl. Moments ago she heard shouts and loud bangs that indicated some sort of scuffle had began in one of the large rooms located around the bend. A few girls cried out in alarm and excitement as they skipped past the kitchen doorway, making Saya roll her eyes. With a heave, she stood from her food and walked over to the hall, loosening her obi by a fraction for extra mobility should she need it.
Another group of girls shrieked and ran by, leaving behind a clatter and another bang to resonate within the household.
You know, I wonder how I thought this would be quick, she mumbled in her thoughts. Resigned, she wandered down the way to where the sound was coming from, the shouts more defined and another noisy clank shaking the foundation.
"What the hell is he?"
"How the hell should I know!"
"That's Hoshigake Kisame, you dolt!"
"Why the fuck are there crows in here!"
"What are you talking about? What crows?"
"They're ravens, you fuck-wads."
"Who's that other guy with him?"
"Oi, what a headache." Saya rubbed her head. "What are they doing in there anyway?"
Sliding open the door just a bit, she peeked in and almost fell through the screening when a man was thrown into the space next to her. The room was littered with unconscious thugs, most limply holding some type of weapon, most of those weapons swords. Only four men remained, they stood in front of Matsuko Hajii bearing arms against a smirking Kisame and a taciturn Itachi. Most of the men actually seemed to be unharmed, merely put to sleep, most likely courtesy of the Uchiha, Saya thought.
"Stop attacking my men and just tell me what you bastards want already." Matsuko growled, his cigarette nestled behind his ear and hands fisted at his sides. Once again, his handsome face was marred by a scowl as he stared down the two Akatsuki members with annoyance and disgust. The four men before him gripped their assorted weapons in stance, awaiting their boss' orders and attempting to stifle their trembling and sweaty palms. Hisoka sat in a disarray in a corner of the room, glancing between her customer and the two men. Her eyes seemed troubled, as if she'd just been shaken from a dream that she'd mistaken for reality. It was the most off guard Saya had yet seen Hisoka look, and at that thought, she became worried.
Then she frowned.
What had made the girl look so shaken?
"You were originally wanted alive, but things have changed." Kisame said. "We want your head, Matsuko."
Matsuko snorted.
"Then come and take it, if you can, Blue Boy." The four men shifted uncomfortably as Kisame slid his feet wide apart and gripped Samehada's hilt, the sword still snug on his back. However, Itachi stepped forward, making Kisame halt and regard him as he approached the group.
In the next moment, the four men collapsed with groans, just as though something had knocked them out.
Effective, Uchiha, Saya smirked.
Matsuko looked between both Akatsuki, a look of calculation, then contemplation crossing his features. For a second, he looked a though he might try to run, but his scowl only deepened. He turned his attention to Hisoka as she watched Itachi come upon him.
"Close your eyes, Hisoka."
Saya watched as she hesitated before covering her face with her arms. Matsuko faced Itachi.
"I don't plan on dying."
"Things do not always go according to plan." Itachi made a hand sign, muttering the name of the jutsu. It looked like some sort of illusion technique, but in retaliation, Matsuko made a hand sign of his own, and dispelled whatever Itachi had attempted. Then, whirling through more, he barked a technique, sliding his sword out of its sheath. The blade glowed a molten orange, and without waiting for anymore attacks, Matsuko rushed Itachi with his blade at the ready.
But he couldn't make it far enough before Kisame appeared beside him, and with a flick, the mans head was severed from the shoulders, leaving only a headless corpse to thud against the floor.
The head followed shortly after.
Saya's smirk fell as she solemnly gazed at the scene before her, nostalgia sweeping over her and numbing her limbs. How many times before had she encountered assassinations like this one?
She quickly noticed Hisoka about to lower her shuddering arms. Appearing beside the woman, she held her limbs in place as she whispered softly into her ear.
"Don't look. There's nothing here worth seeing, Hisoka." She nodded unsteadily. Happy with her understanding, Saya looked up at her escorts and watched as Itachi collected a scroll, sealing the head within its confines and rolling it back up.
"We are done here." He stated.
"That was easy enough." Kisame popped his neck a bit.
"It didn't sound easy. You boys made quite the racket." Saya watched them, her face hard and apathetic as she circled the unconscious men littered about the floor. "I was talking with Susuki-san earlier. Matsuko's death will create a power vacuum."
"That's what our client wanted." Kisame replied. "The girlfriend bit was just an excuse to make a hit on him. He'll blame it on Matsuko for starting the conflict to justify his assassination. Why do you-"
"I hate this." Saya interceded. Itachi's eyes hardened as he observed Saya's demeanor change. It was very unlike her usual aloofness, and the reflection in her eyes seemed to give nothing of her thoughts away. Kisame, too, noticed the change, wondering what had gotten her so upset. Her lips quirked as she looked down at Matsuko's remaining body, her hands fisted, making little half-moon indents in her palms.
"What's up with you, onna?"
Saya leaned forward, her eyes shaded by the shift in posture. She dropped down to a squat, bringing her arms forward to softly press her palms against the mans chest. Her thoughts lingered over what she didn't know, what she could never know, and what she didn't want to know.
Matsuko, the monkey.
The man was gruff from what she gathered from her brief encounter, or absence thereof, and she had hardly seen him twice. Only had she heard his name but a mere few times, and mostly uttered with malice or annoyance.
Matsuko.
Matsuko.
Matsuko.
"Matsuko Hajii." She murmured. She had helped kill him. She made it so, or at least, helped speed the process along. She had done worse in the past, and no doubt, will do just as terrible in the future. She had taken lives, just her underlings had done under her command. Just as her friends had done. Just as her father, and grandfather, and associates.
Even people she didn't know killed.
Everyone's a murderer, she thought sardonically. The killing just always carries on, and we accept it or go mad. We become accustomed to the loss and the guilt, and try to ignore the shame that we bring upon ourselves. Even if it was a bad guy. Even if it was a murderer, and he killed toddlers, women, and old men. We still feel the tar that smelts and sears our innards, leaving nothing but a pungent smell and aftertaste of remorse. Because, once we kill that person, it makes us just as bad as the murderer himself. One life is not better than another, so the end of his is just as terrible and wicked as his act of stealing innocent ones.
It makes us wish that someone would come along and take ours, just to rectify that injustice. But then the cycle never really ends, does it?
This is what makes us mad. So very, truly unhinged. The idea that the killing never stops, and that it can only go on and on, until everyone is gone and all our intentions to dust.
Saya trembled slightly.
Sayuri-dono, it's not the killing itself that is so horrible. Yeah, it sucks and it's messy and sad. But what makes the killing bad or good are the reasons behind it.
A flash of Matsuko crossed behind her eyes. The softened look, if only minutely, as he ordered Hisoka to shield herself.
That man knew he was going to die.
"Gomen, Matsuko-san." She whispered. Standing back up, she made her way over to Hisoka, ignorant to the looks she was given, and led her to the hallway, making sure she didn't peek past her hands.
She looked back at Kisame and Itachi just before departing.
"I'll be back at the inn shortly." Her voice was husky and low, and with a strut, she left the room with a quivering Hisoka.
"She was crying, wasn't she?" Kisame mumbled, looking along the room and to Itachi. A pair of women, ones who had previously been in the room before fleeing when the fight commenced, poked their heads in and squealed at the sight of the corpse. An elderly lady with a fluttering voice ordered them with clipped tones to get their sisters and clean up the mess. Grumbled complaints followed after at the sight of the sleeping yakuza, throwing her arms up in exasperation.
"Men!" She muttered.
"It would appear so." Itachi said back, quiet in the expanse of the chattering women arriving in the doorway.
"The woman is a walking bottle of emotions. One moment she's giddy, and the next she's tearing up. I don't understand it." Kisame followed Itachi towards the doorway, the women muffling their gasps as they moved and inched away from their path. The old woman, however, hunched and much shorter than anyone around, stood her ground just to the right of them. She glared imploringly up at them, her eyes embedded deep in her skull and her gnarled fingers folding as she regarded them.
"Anger." She said bluntly. Itachi responded by halting in his leave, watching her as Kisame stopped beside him.
"What was that?" Kisame asked.
"Anger." She repeated. "Not sadness. The girl that just left here, no? The one with cat eyes and plum hair and that smells of sea salt." The granny rambled as the girls behind her warily watched the men's reactions. "Tears of anger from her eyes."
"What was she so angry about, Gigi-obaa-san?" One girl asked, pushing her face forward and down, eager for the woman's reply.
"How should I know?" She cried back. "Get to work, you lazy brats! All you do is stand around!" Turning on the other girls, she shouted orders at them, leaving Itachi and Kisame to leave in relative peace.
"Do you know what she was so angry about, Itachi?"
They moved along the hallway, back towards the side exit of the brothel.
"No."
"Then why do I get the feeling that you do?" Kisame mumbled to himself.
…
…..
…..
Saya lead Hisoka into the back room, the gamble kanji striking as she passed through the doors. Her cheeks had dried steps ago, leaving only the taste of salt as a reminder of her previous thoughts. The smoky trails and wisps of spicy air wafted from the depths of the mistress' abode, her form outlined in the dimness that lurked beyond the screen.
"I'm not a baby!" Hisoka snapped, snatching her arm from Saya's grasp and rubbing her wrists once under the Chou's gaze. A knowing smirk quirked her lips as she addressed the pair with unwavering grace.
"I take it all went according to plan?" She bit the end of her pipe, crossing her ankles.
"Aye." Saya replied, her eyes still only reflective to the darkness they perused. Chou took note that the glassy fixture was an attempt to mask the emotions that ravaged her soul, and she thought with a smile how wonderfully pure the strange woman was, regardless of her deeds. What deeds indeed made her eyes so obscure when faced with the passing of a stranger, and what deeds she committed when that death led her to sorrow? Chou tilted her head.
"Hisoka dear, are you all right? You look quite shaken up. Would you like a cup of tea?"
"No, mistress. I just want to go to sleep." Her eyes were drawn as she pulled her gaze up from her hands. "It's been…a really long day."
"I can imagine."
Saya rolled her eyes towards Hisoka, a soft smile replacing her strained façade.
"Stay for tea anyways, Hisoka," Chou continued, " I have a friend coming to see me and I think it would be for your benefit if you met her." Hisoka gave her a mild glare before letting out a long sigh and sagging her shoulders.
"You better pay me over time"
"Dear, I don't pay you at all. You make your own money." Hisoka rolled her eyes, seemingly together and revived from her minor state of shock.
"Don't I know it." She strode over to the side of the tea table, pulling her legs beneath her and keeping her eyes downcast and away from Saya.
"Now then, I see you've made up your debt quite nicely, Sayuri-san." Saya watched quietly as Chou puffed out a stream of grey swirls. "I suppose I should release you from your bind, then."
"That would be nice." Saya languidly replied. "I'll just change and be out of your hair."
"Nonsense. If anything, you were quite the ornament to me. Are you so sure you would not like to take up house here?"
"Quite." She smirked. "I find the customers hardly bearable. I don't know how you do it."
"With patience." Chou chuckled. "And of course, wits. Not just anyone can work at a brothel."
There was a stretch of silence that was remarkably ominous as Saya pulled at the hem of her dress.
"I see Hisoka is not the only one shaken up." Saya quickly looked up and met Chou's eyes with defensive fire.
"Not shaken up." Saya corrected. "Just nostalgic. But it's a wasted attempt on my mind, and I'll be over it in no time."
"Of course."
More Silence.
"Dear, we do not all have the luxury to live without killing. Nor are we given second chances to rectify the deaths we wrought. Do take the time to recognize the moments you're given to salvage your sanity, otherwise you'll turn to rot." She winked at Saya's passive face. "Take it from an old goat, eh?"
"Old goat!" Saya laughed.
A gust of air temperament made Saya change her gaze towards the door, where Susuki glided in from and greeted Saya and then the others with a wide and bright smile.
"I missed it! I can't believe I missed it!" She sang happily. "But that's okay, because I've finally got what I've been hoping for!"
"Shh! You're too loud!" Hisoka scolded with a hiss.
"Oh? So then, when do you plan on leaving, dear?" Chou's figure shifted so she laid on her back, her eyes slid to the side as she waited for Susuki's reply.
"Leave?" Hisoka said with a trace of despair.
"Where do you plan on going, Susuki?' Saya turned with crossed arms. Chou noticed her eyes no longer reflected her surroundings, but rather flickered with a feline curiosity.
"Oh, wouldn't you know? As much as I love the city here and the women in it," She graced Hisoka with a look, "I've been dying to travel into fire country a bit! My cousin came in a few hours ago and offered me a job at her club in a village just near Konoha, can you believe it?" She hopped a bit with folded hands, stars swirling around her as her visions of her future swam through her mind.
"Why so far away?" Saya grinned, the joyful disposition catching.
"Why not? I've heard such great things about fire country villages, and this one is supposed to be even more livelier than Omashu. Imagine!" Saya internally laughed at Susuki, trying to cover her penitence with giddiness. However, a sigh brought her attention back over to the table, where Hisoka was staring at the ground with a lost expression.
"You okay, Kusekke-chan?" She raised her head sharply, scowling as she looked Saya in the eye for the first time since the fight.
"I'm fine! Good riddance! I'm tired of Susuki's loud voice, it always wakes me up in the mornings and keeps me up at night." She crossed her arms with a huff and turned to the woman in question.
"Aw, Hisa-chan, don't say things like that!" She cried.
"Hisoka doesn't really mean it, she's just embarrassed that she'll miss you is all." Saya chuckled. "I don't know her that well and even I can see it."
"Shut it. Why aren't you gone yet?" Hisoka grumbled, a blush staining her cheeks.
"You're right, you're right. I should get going." She waved away the women in the room, sliding on her heels back to the doorway, sans the girls that usually inhabited the room beyond. She looked back into he room. "It was fun, Kusekke-chan. But you should watch the temper." Hisoka's blush turned an angry red.
"You're going already?" Susuki looked at Saya questioningly, her lips twitching in what Saya found to be an amused smile. She hid it terribly.
"You knew she would leave once she paid her debt." Hisoka accused her. "Don't act so surprised."
"It was so much fun though!"
"Everything must come to an end." Chou avowed with a heated voice. "Sooner or later." She pointedly sent a look to Saya. "Make sure you remember that, Sayuri-san."
"I've learnt that lesson long ago, Mistress Chou." She tentatively placed her palm against the doors frame, turning away from the group.
"Not all endings are sad, Sayuri. Remember that, too."
Lingering only for a moment more, she slipped out the doorway without a sound, taking the hallway in gliding steps. As she made her way across the room littered with puzzles and cushions, a woman with strikingly fair hair emerged from the hallways darkness, a woman with short-cropped dark hair trailing behind her, clutching to what Saya found to be a small pig. They passed one another with little more than a glance, and once Saya was past her, she silently turned her head to the pair for an instant. The woman walked with obvious authority, and her long pig tails almost hid the kanji so blatantly stitched across the back of her robe. The kanji matched the one on the doors, the word 'gamble' crossing Saya's mind.
Gamble, huh?
She turned back around and walked a slower pace as she exited the brothel, her thoughts strewn and unfocused as she made her way back to the inn.
…..
…
…..
Saya returned the kimono to the inn keeper, asking him if he could give it to Hisoka when she returned. He agreed empathetically, telling her it was a shame she couldn't keep such a wonderful piece of art.
When she slid open the room door, both Hoshigake and the Uchiha were nowhere in sight. She assumed they had gone off to enjoy themselves, but the thought of the Uchiha doing anything enjoyable instantly quashed that picture. Instead, she guessed that they had gone for something to eat, and thanked Susuki gratefully for providing her with sustenance earlier.
She went to retrieve a futon, and rolled it out neatly near the balcony door. However, after minutes of tossing, she realized, aggravated, that she was wide awake. In fact, she felt stifling hot. So with a grunt of frustration, she threw off the covers and slid open the balcony door with a clack, closing it back behind her and situating herself on the wooden railing that surrounded the small space.
Regrets are like shards of jagged glass that you try to gulp down in one swallow. They shred down your throat and get lodged in your esophagus, leaving only the smaller pieces to plop down into your stomach. And once they're there, they turn in your belly until it rips open, spilling the acid among all your organs, making them fester into infested flesh, and burning you whole. Saya looked up to the sky with searching eyes, the stars hardly visible among the bright lights and tall buildings of village life. The moon was out of sight as well, leaving Saya with only a dark and unending sky, and upon her gaze, she felt as if it were so big that it could break her soul.
The chatter was still abundant below, but Saya's stare never wavered from its fixation, and she sat like that until she dozed off along the wall behind her.
…..
….
…..
"I hate crowds." Kisame grumbled irately. Itachi replied with silence, his lithe weaving through the throng of people followed by Kisame's steady but also stealthy pace.
"We'll leave tomorrow morning." He said finally, glancing over at a young boy and his mother who were sitting next to a stand filled with candies. The boy had messy black hair, his eyes shining up at his doting mother who chuckled at his liveliness towards his treat.
"It's almost the summer solstice, isn't it?" Kisame shrugged past a group of men, whom upon his presence, they shrunk away from with restricted gazes of wonder and hesitance. "The onna's deal with Leader will have to be completed." One man bumped into Kisame with a heavy bounce, and began to glare up at him with a cuss already upon his lips. But one look at Kisame's height and scowl made him think twice, and with a mumbled apology, slithered away silently.
"The King of Hell Summon." Itachi murmured.
"Whatever the hell that is." They were approaching the inn, the clusters of lights sending pale orange and red colors down on them. Upon seeing the darkened lights just to the right of the building, between the brothel and inn where their veranda was, Kisame narrowed his eyes. "It doesn't look like she's in yet." He added. However, as they got closer, he was proven wrong at the sight of her form, slight against the wooden banister behind her and one languid leg hanging over the side. It seemed as though she was out cold, her face hanging to the side on her shoulder.
Kisame stopped just before the house, watching her chest rise and fall in the illumination of heated colors just below her. He paused by the look on her face, rather, that she could make such a face.
Eyes lightly closed, as if only shading her from reality with a fleeting dream, her lips parted only just, with the breath of someone enjoying a summer nap. Her hair was all over, but seemed to pillow her from the hard wall, and her limbs limp from a long day filled with worry and other things Kisame didn't bother imagining. "What an idiot, falling asleep like that."
He watched her for a while more before caught by the light emitted from within the inn as Itachi opened its doors. Then, with a frown, he followed in after him.
…..
…
….
They left the next morning, not long before the sun began to bleed colors all over the sky. It was a quiet dawn, filled only with the mere echo of the nights festivities like the aftertaste from a candy. Without so much as a glance over the shoulder, they exited the village and made their way through the start of the wilderness, the only path a dirty, bare road.
Stretching her back out, Saya winced as pops resounded along her spine, her neck stiff from her sleeping position. She groaned.
"It's your own fault for falling asleep like that." Kisame said, walking along side her. "Should have slept like a normal human rather than a cat."
"I'm not a cat." Saya drawled. "Not anymore than you're a fish." She smirked up to Kisame with stretched arms, a feline twinkle in her eyes.
"You're lucky. If Leader didn't want you, I would have lopped off your head a long time ago."
"Then I guess that makes us both lucky, because if you did that, I would haunt you for the rest of your life." Itachi strode behind the pair, his attention held by the tree's around them , as if looking for something.
Or someone.
"I don't believe in ghosts, onna. Or have you already forgotten our previous conversation?" He gave her a vicious smirk. "You were drunk, after all."
Looking unperturbed she answered, "I remember just fine, Hoshigake. However, it appears you have forgotten that my name isn't onna."
The sun was now risen, the morning birds all but silent, and the early dew evaporated into the atmosphere. It was already hot out, even with the shade from the tree's, and the only relief from the burn was the casual breeze that swept through every so often.
"I remember. I remember I also told you that the day I address you by your given name is the day I actually give a damn what you think."
Saya only smiled at this, as if entertained by the banter, and chuckled along with a roll of her eyes.
"Speaking of thinking, how about a riddle, Hoshigake?" Kisame trained his eyes down to her, sizing her up to see if she was serious.
"Why would I want to play with riddles? They're children's games." He snorted.
"Oh, come on. Just a few, just to pass the time." She threw Itachi a glance over her shoulder. "You can play too, if you want." Itachi kept his eyes on the trees without reproach, which was just what she expected. Turning back around, she dropped her arms to her sides and slyly beamed back at Kisame. "You ready?"
"If you say so." He sighed. Taking that as confirmation, she began.
"When is a door not a door?" She asked, looking back ahead. Kisame went to reply, saying that he could care less, but as if he thought better of it, closed his lips and thought for a moment.
"When it's a-jar." He answered after a few seconds, his expression quite soft from his usual gruffness.
"Good. Now how about this? What's brown and sticky?" She rambled off. On this one, however, he answered instantly.
"A stick. And that ones stupid."
"Perhaps. It was very simple, and sometimes the simplest ones are the hardest. Next." She chirped. "Cut me and I weep tears as red as my flesh, yet my heart is made of stone. What am I?" It was a longer riddle, and the answer was simple, but so simple that it could be easily overlooked. So Kisame thought for a lengthy time, until after they passed a stump covered in moss and weed-like flowers. Flesh, that could be anything. No, not anything, he thought. Fruit? And a stone could be a pit?
"A cherry." He finally retorted. Saya couldn't withhold her excitement. She was surprised he was so good at these puzzles that most people she'd told them to hardly ever understood. She quickly rattled her brain for a riddle that would stump him, flicking through all her categorized memories until she stopped at one that made her grin widen, albeit with a wicked tone.
"Okay, try this one on for size." She sang. " Alive without breath, As cold as death;Never thirsty, ever drinking, All in mail never clinking." She waited in hearty silence, wondering is he would actually respond if he figured it out.
"I don't know."
She looked up to him from her forward gaze, a very fiendish expression on her face, almost fey-like. She clucked her tongue and leaned forward to answer.
"A fish."
…..
…..
…
"Yin-chan! Yin-chan! Master has a plan! He's sent us note of how to dote, and win as Saya's hand!" Fuu twirled in utter ecstasy, gripping a crumpled letter between both fists. A messenger bat hovered in the air beside her, awaiting her reply patiently as Yin stared at Fuu with a dulled icy look.
"He plans on baiting her with the jinchuuriki." She stated tonelessly. Fuu froze in her dance, gaping at her shorter companion in awe.
"Yin-chan! How did you know?" She exclaimed. However, the cold girl started walking along their path once more, leaving Fuu scrambling to write a response behind her before shoving it at the bat and running off after her.
"We will confront her in less than a week." She stated.
"Oh! It sounds like so much fun! I'm quaking with joy!" She shouted. "The sun is out! The day is bright! The wind smells of sweetness! We're off to see Saya-nee-chan! Can things get much better than this?"
"No. It will only get worse."
The bat flew off ahead of the girls, flittering like a black wisp of smoke, the white of the letter attached to its back. It swiveled along the wind until all that was left was a black freckle in the sky.
I appreciate all the reviews I'm getting, and I love the feedback as well. It really helps me establish how the characters should react with one another, and without it, I would be lost.
So thank you everyone for your time.
Anyway, I would just like to take a moment here and STAB KISHIMOTO for basically ruining my plot (Insert mega sigh). I suppose it was HIM who created Naruto in the first place, so I'll spare him.
For now.
I'll have to adjust the King of Hell summon background now, and apply it to Madara's plotting.
Bleh.
If I fail at this, don't hold it against me. My creativity has its limits. Oh, and kudos to the person who guesses who the blond chick is:
Please review. It helps.
~Serb