Chimera, Chapter 7: Monster
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto


Kisame stiffly stood in the spacious top floor office reserved for the Mizukage's exclusive use. He had never been in here before, which he found odd considering the many years since he'd begun working under Fuguki, who answered directly to Yagura himself. He had the sudden urge to laugh. His laughter, Kisame had found, had a queer effect on people. You never knew what you were going to get, and he'd seen it all.

With Zabuza and the other Swordsmen, laughter tended to breed more laughter, though their amusement was of the blacker kind. With most others, even a mere grin from the likes of Kisame elicited anything from full-body tremors to tears. One target he'd had about a year ago had actually shit himself when he saw a grinning Kisame unsheathe his nodachi nice and slow. And with Mei, laughter was usually met with scowls or insults. She never liked to be laughed at, least of all by him. But she was too easy to get a rise out of, as he'd told her many times over the years. Too predictable, too arrogant, too easy that way. Mei, however, was the only person he'd ever known who actually smiled at his laughter. It was rare and only when the laughter wasn't at her expense, but he remembered that smile clearly. Kisame had never seen anyone smile like she could when she really wanted to dazzle, least of all in his vicinity.

Fucking weird.

Fuguki was saying something, and Kisame stopped daydreaming like a goddamned beginner and paid attention.

"There are six," Fuguki explained. "I have their locations marked here." He indicated the map of Water Country and the surrounding lands splayed on Yagura's wide desk.

Kisame followed his master's direction, but something on Yagura's desk drew his particular interest. A jar filled with greasy green formaldehyde sat at the head of the desk. Inside floated a severed head, preserved well enough but blackened around the eyes and curling at the neck. Kisame recognized the head as that of the former drug kingpin, Kazuo Taoka. Mei had sawed it off with nothing but a kunai, and together they'd brought it back to Yagura giftwrapped in a sack as proof of their success. That had been well over a year ago, the start of Kisame's unofficial partnership with Mei, both personal and professional. Kisame had always heard about Yagura's penchant for keeping mementos of his conquests, relics to enshrine his power for all to see. There had been no major problems with Taoka's now divided syndicate since his demise.

Yagura peered at the map Fuguki had marked, his eyes glassy as he pressed his lips together and scratched his fingers. Kisame's gaze was drawn to the fidgety movement, and he wondered at how young Yagura looked, almost cherubic for a man twice Kisame's age. There was something creepily child-like about Yagura now despite the heavy atmosphere in his office that made Kisame's hair stand on end. Not innocent, but rather skittish, maybe even nervous.

"Six undercover spies," Ao said, his hands on the edges of the desk as he studied the map. "All from Stone?"

Fuguki nodded. "Got their descriptions and aliases here. Last known addresses, known associates, everything." He produced a scroll from his sleeve and set it down on the desk. It was protected by a powerful seal and stamped with the Cypher Division's crest.

The Cypher Division was Mist's covert intelligence agency tasked with acquiring foreign secrets as well as protecting Mist's own. Fuguki led the division, a team of about twenty shinobi and tacticians. As his student, Kisame was also assigned to the Cypher Division whenever he wasn't carrying out assassinations with Mei. Kisame had learned over the years that he had a flair for harvesting information from unwilling informants. As it turned out, there were only so many times a man could drown and be resuscitated until he finally broke and bared his soul. And Kisame was a patient guy. He liked to watch. Fuguki had lauded him as his most promising mentee in years.

"That's quite the discovery," Ao went on. "Six covert agents hiding in our midst? Intelligence like that doesn't come by frequently or easily."

"I have my ways," Fuguki said.

Ao studied the much larger Fuguki through his lone visible eye, nonplussed. "Even so, this is quite a lot more than much of what your division has brought us in the past."

Kisame glanced at Fuguki, but he said nothing. The big man had come to him and the other Cypher Division shinobi earlier today announcing that his sources had brought him something big, the break they'd been waiting for. No one knew where he got the information, but then, Cypher Division was not known for sharing secrets as a rule. The other members of the task force were no less forthcoming with their own informants or sources. Ao, however, did not look totally convinced.

"The information is good, I guarantee it," Fuguki said, crossing his arms.

Laughter sounded from the dark corner of Yagura's office, where the Legendary Swordsman Kushimaru Kuriarare leaned against the wall in his ghastly Hunter's mask. A long thin blade that looked more like a super-sized needle than any traditional sword hung from his bony hip, and a shock of straw hair covered his head like a lion's mane. If he hadn't made a sound, he could have passed for a ghoulish scarecrow looming in the shadows.

"You always did know the price of good information, Fuguki," Kushimaru said.

Fuguki scowled at his fellow Swordsman. Strapped to his back, the great demon sword Samehada was covered in bandages and wriggled slightly. Kisame eyed the strange sword, having always been drawn to its sentience. It was no ordinary sword, not even in the same league as Kushimaru's Nuibari. Samehada was a beast in its own right, a relic from another land beyond the reach of man. No one actually knew where the sword had come from or who had forged it. Fuguki, three sheets to the wind and counting, once told him a story about a great smith who had sacrificed one hundred sharks, harvested their teeth, and melded them together in his kiln to craft the sword. Whether it was just another of the many stories surrounding the mysterious sword, there was one thing everyone agreed upon. Samehada was the oldest and the most powerful of all the Legendary Swords.

Samehada squirmed in its wrappings like a child trying to struggle free of its mother's suffocating embrace. The longer Kisame watched it, the louder he heard the hissing sound it made, like a venomous serpent calling to its kin to free it from its cage. He had the sudden irresistible urge to touch Samehada, to rip free the bindings that entrapped it and feel its teeth, the sword that flayed skin and bone instead of merely cutting it.

"Kushimaru," Yagura said, scratching the side of his neck like he needed to dig his fingers into something. "You and Jinpachi will eliminate these three in the north." He indicated three marked spots on the map.

"What? With that shit stain? No way," Kushimaru protested.

"You will," Yagura said, turning on the tall Swordsman. "And you'll return with their heads."

Yagura's single luminous green eye seemed to flash despite the shadows the filled his office with the curtains drawn. Kushimaru's face was hidden, but he placed a hand on his blade and nodded. "Of course, Lord Yagura. But if I kill him for getting on my nerves, don't hold it against me."

"As long as you bring Shibuki back," Yagura said.

Ao tensed as he looked between Yagura and Kushimaru, his jaw set and his knuckles white. Kisame observed him in silence, wondering. You would think a veteran Hunter like Ao was used to this by now.

Pussy.

"Go," Yagura dismissed Kushimaru. "Don't come back until it's done."

Kushimaru chuckled to himself at some unheard joke and saluted. "Aye aye, Boss."

"And the other three?" Ao asked.

Yagura tensed and shot Ao a look like he'd forgotten the aging Hunter was there at all. He wrung his hands discreetly. "Kisame will go."

Kisame just watched his lord and leader, amused. For a while there, he was sure Yagura had not even seen him standing there next to Fuguki's intimidating girth. "Sir," he said in his usual gravelly purr. "And Mei?"

Yagura twisted to look directly at Kisame, and despite the man's slim stature and innocuous child-like appearance, Kisame felt his shoulders stiffen as he suppressed a shiver. That green eye of Yagura's seemed to see the deepest part of him, the part he held hostage from the rest of the world. He knew the tales, just as all Mist nin did. Yagura's body was a vessel for a demon, a monster of nightmares and unimaginable power. How did one person survive a living nightmare and remain sane? Maybe they didn't.

Maybe that's the secret.

Yagura smiled, and Kisame had an ironic brush of déjà-vu as he wondered if this was what his victims felt just before he cut them open. "Yes. Mei, too. I've quite enjoyed the fruits of your partnership."

Kisame did not trust his voice, so he simply nodded. Taoka's head in the jar seemed to stare at him through the tinted glass like it knew what he was thinking, pitying him.

"Go," Yagura all but growled as he showed his guests his back and moved to the window. "I want this done as soon as possible."

Kisame bowed, and Fuguki gathered up the map he'd marked, unwilling to leave any evidence behind. You never knew who might be watching and stumble upon something they should not. They filed out, Kushimaru leading the way.

"You too, Ao," Yagura said.

"My lord, there are still things to discuss," Ao began.

"Out!" Yagura hissed.

Kisame was out the door and did not catch the rest of the heated exchange. He didn't think much of it, either, not really caring one way or the other. Yagura was a Mizukage to be feared and respected. But Ao was the head Hunter nin. To be expelled so violently... Kisame put the thought from his mind when he and Fuguki made it outside and stood side by side on the street. Kushimaru was already long gone. Their mission started now.

"Good hunting, Kisame," Fuguki said, shouldering Samehada higher across his back.

The demonic sword wriggled and made a scraping-chewing noise that sounded a little like laughter to Kisame's ears. He rubbed his ear and tried to put the thought out of his mind.

"I'll return as soon as I can," Kisame said respectfully.

"See that you do."

He turned to leave, but Fuguki called to him once more.

"That woman you're always with," he said. "Terumī."

Kisame paused. "Yes?"

"You trust her?"

Kisame thought about this. Trust was not something he offered to anyone, never had and probably never would. Not really. Trust was for the weak and the desperate and the ignorant. Kisame was none of those things. There were different kinds of trust, anyway. To watch his back in a fight, Kisame supposed he could trust Mei. She'd never let him down before. With his secrets? Well, he didn't tell her all his secrets. The ones she did know, well... She hadn't run from him yet.

"Kill me again."

He ran his tongue over his teeth, loving the smoothness and the sharpness of them as he remembered how she'd sounded that first night they'd been together. Trusting, for lack of a better word. "More than most," he said.

Fuguki nodded. "Fine. Just complete the mission. This will be buried as soon as you're finished." Meaning, of course, that failure was not an option, and loose ends were to be taken out with the trash.

With that, Fuguki left Kisame to his task and stalked off, probably to reconvene with the Cypher Division and plan their next move. You could never tell by looking at him all but waddle down the street under all that girth and the weight of Samehada, but Fuguki was a sharp man, shrewd and suspicious and ruthlessly loyal to the Bloody Mist. Kisame had once seen him rip a subordinate's head off with his bare hands when Fuguki found out the young Chuunin was leaking intel to his favorite local whore. Pillow talk was too much talk even within the confines of the village, and Fuguki was never one to suffer a leaky pipe in the system. He'd brought Kisame along to the whorehouse afterwards and drove a dagger through the whore's throat, and then he'd ordered Kisame to take care of the rest.

"Even a trickling pipe'll flood the whole house eventually if you let it be. So what do you do? Plug the hole? No, of course not. Once you got a leaky pipe, you got it forever. No, a patch job's no good. Tear the whole clusterfuck down, though, and you can fill it with shiny new pipes," he'd said like he was telling Kisame about the outfit he'd picked out to wear that day. "Yagura likes his little souvenirs, but I'm not so sentimental."

So Kisame took the east wing and Fuguki took the west wing, and together they put all the leaky whores to the sword one by one, young and old, male and female. One young girl with eyes like the sea and the kind of lips you wanted to bruise pleaded with him to have mercy, she'd done nothing wrong, she just wanted to live. Kisame had run her through the stomach and watched as her pretty face warped in agony and despair. Why should she get to live when the others could not? There was no logic to her plea, only self-serving greed. He would not dishonor the others he'd killed before he found her by sparing her.

Kisame slowly surfaced from the recent memory, only a few months old, and realized he was standing alone on the sidewalk just outside the Mizukage's offices. Right, he had somewhere to be. He needed to find Mei and start this mission. No time to waste. It was midday, but he did not think to check the Terumī clan compound. She was hardly ever there. Perhaps she was with that virago Ameyuri. Kisame had never cared for Ameyuri, too loud and quick to anger and brash. But she was damn good with the sword, he'd give her that. Good enough to be the only female of the Seven Swordsmen while he still languished as an apprentice in the Cypher Division.

"Your time will come," Mei had told him time and again over the years.

Kisame frowned and pushed the thought from his mind. Even Zabuza had a new purpose in training up the boy he'd found during a routine cull in the badlands. Haku or something, the boy with ice in his veins. He was doing well at the Academy, if Kisame recalled. Any day now and he would make his first sanctioned graduation kill and join Yagura's growing army. Even little Suigetsu, now four, had just entered the Academy to begin his formal training. Time, it seemed, caught up to them all inevitably. No matter. Kisame was a patient man, always had been. But time was not his particular problem. There could only ever be seven Swordsmen.

He was lost in thought walking through the damp streets. It was an overcast day. The grey clouds dispersed the hidden sun and cast a smoky tint upon the village. Dreary days like this when the humidity was thick and the spring chill lingered were some of his favorite in Mist. He could have enjoyed a day at the beach just watching the cold waters, waiting for a storm to roll in. Today was not such a day, however.

Kisame wandered the village, stopping briefly at the training grounds, but Mei was nowhere to be found. He tried the docks, but no luck. What a sight he must have made, wandering the streets in search of a woman like a lost puppy. He chuckled to himself. She'd like that, he thought. Another secret to keep to himself. He had made it to the edge of the village by then still emptyhanded, but he heard a familiar voice just beyond the last row of houses at the edge of the thin trees.

"You look like you survived a war," said Harusame. "What on earth happened?"

Harusame was an older man with thick spectacles and long mustachios. A respected shinobi in Mist and all of Water Country in his day, he had served as an advisor to the Third Mizukage before Yagura. Now he spent his days bent over books in the library archives about everything from the village history to secret ninja techniques. Kisame had become acquainted with him over the years in Harusame's capacity as an infrequent advisor to the Cypher Division.

"It doesn't matter," said Utakata, Harusame's only student. "I got it."

Utakata handed Harusame a dirty scroll sealed with chakra. He indeed looked like he'd survived a hard battle. His attractive face was smeared with dirt and blood, his Jōnin flak vest was charred and ripped in places, and his pants bore blood splatter that may or may not have been his. Kisame watched from the corner just out of sight behind the last dwelling on the block, curiosity piqued. Utakata was a dear friend of Mei's and a Jinchuuriki besides. Kisame had seen them together often when they were children, outcasts drawn to one another out of loneliness, or perhaps something more sinister. Kisame never spoke about Mei or what had been transpiring between them since the Taoka mission to anyone, but he knew Utakata and Mei's other friends knew. Not that it mattered. It was none of their business, and Kisame had never cared much for gossip. When you were the only person in your hometown with blue skin, you learned to tune it all out. He supposed Utakata, of all people, could probably sympathize.

Harusame took the scroll and examined it carefully. His jowls shook as he sputtered for words. "I... This was not your mission!"

Utakata looked taken aback. "But Master, you said this scroll had information important to Mist and it couldn't fall into the wrong hands."

"I know what I said!" Harusame hissed to keep his voice down. "I asked you to scope out the thieves' encampment and report back. Are you telling me you engaged them alone?"

"Of course, what was I supposed to do? We can't let thieves get away with village secrets. I did what I had to do."

Harusame snapped and suddenly smacked Utakata across his pretty-boy face too fast to avoid. For an old man, he still moved like a true shinobi when he wanted to. Utakata was stunned into silence as he brought a hand to his abused cheek and gaped at Harusame.

"Foolish boy," Harusame said, shaking a little. "You could have died!"

Remembering himself, Utakata let his hand fall and let his anger show. "You're reprimanding me for a job well-done?"

"You disobeyed my orders entirely, and you put yourself at great risk."

Utakata clenched his fists. "I see. You're afraid they could have taken me alive and sold me to the highest bidder."

Kisame licked his lips, now very curious. It was common knowledge that Utakata hosted the demonic slug Saiken, a fine prize for any rival ninja village to get their hands on.

Harusame shook his head. "No that's not it."

"Then what?" Utakata demanded, seething.

Kisame could not be sure, but he could have sworn he detected a sinister red glow emanating from Utakata's back like a shadow trying to exorcise itself from him.

Harusame took Utakata's hand in his and dropped the top-secret scroll on the ground like it was nothing but a soiled napkin. "There will always be another mission, but there is only one of you." Harusame looked up at his taller student, imploring him to listen. "Utakata, your life is precious."

The sinister aura surrounding Utakata slowly dissipated, leaving him looking haggard for his eighteen years. There was a stretch of silence between the two men as Utakata stared openly, perhaps disbelieving of what he'd heard.

"What?" he said, almost timid.

Harusame patted Utakata's hand in between his and smiled like a grandfather, so different from his earlier display of inhuman force and speed. "Go and rest. We'll talk again later." He bent to pick up the scroll, valuable information that could have fetched a high price from the right enemy, and pocketed it.

Utakata remained there as Harusame left, silent and lost in thought. He rubbed his arms for warmth and swallowed hard. Kisame took that as his cue and revealed himself.

"Trouble in paradise?" Kisame asked, grinning and watching for a reaction.

Utakata stiffened and dropped his hands to the pockets of his pants, where he undoubtedly concealed weapons on his person. "Kisame," he said coldly. "What're you doing here?"

"Looking for Mei. You seen her?"

Utakata ignored the question. "How long have you been standing there?"

Kisame shrugged. "Long enough."

He could practically taste the anger and embarrassment Utakata emanated at having been caught in such a vulnerable moment. He smiled wider, but bravely resisted the urge to lick his lips.

"I haven't seen Mei. I just returned from a mission," Utakata said.

For as long as Kisame had known him, Utakata had always been courteous, some might even say charming, even when confronted with an uncomfortable person or situation. He had to be. Anger...did things to him. But it didn't take a genius to pick up on Utakata's chilly dislike for Kisame. Ever since he found out about Kisame and Mei, well... Perhaps he didn't like the idea of the person he cared about most being with a monster. That thought nearly made Kisame burst out laughing. The irony, though.

Utakata misread the reason for Kisame's fleeting amusement. "I'm relieved you find so much joy in matters that don't concern you."

Kisame sized him up. Utakata was a tall man, but not as tall as Kisame. Just looking at him, Kisame would never guess his true nature, the horror lurking just beneath the surface. Fitting. Perhaps that was why he got along so well with Mei. "Oh, I'm not laughing at you. In fact, I agree with you."

"What?"

"You did the right thing by safeguarding Mist's secrets and bringing that scroll back. Harusame's nothing but a coward and a bleeding heart if he can't appreciate what you did."

Utakata blanched, but outrage suited him in a way it never could most others. He grabbed Kisame by the collar of his flak vest and jerked him down a few inches to his eye level. "I've never had a problem with you, Kisame. Not even when you started fucking my best friend. Mei can do whatever she wants." He tightened his grip, and the skin on his pale fingers began to bubble with extreme chakra output. "I don't care who you are to her. You better watch what you say to me."

"Oh?" Kisame asked.

"You know exactly what I am."

The lurid chakra pent up within Utakata escaped his fingertips in swirling smoke tendrils, superheated, and singed the collar of Kisame's vest. It was too much. Kisame could no longer resist the urge to laugh.

"Your life's not precious. You're just a man," he said.

"I am so much more," Utakata snarled, his golden eyes blazing as molten chakra swirled in their depths.

"No, you're just like the rest of us," Kisame said, all traces of his former amusement gone as he got a really good look at Utakata and his aesthetically beautiful face. "Your life's only as precious as the demon that feeds on your bones." He grabbed Utakata's wrist and yanked his hand free.

They separated and glared at each other a moment, teetering on the brink of something much more raw and violent if only one of them would take the final threatening step. But Kisame had no interest in fighting the likes of Utakata. He had a mission to get to. Fuguki was counting on him, and Kisame had never let him down before.

So he turned his back on Utakata and walked away, resolved to track down Mei once and for all. He had not checked Mangetsu's place, now that he thought about it. She might be there. Utakata watched him go, his gaze heavy on Kisame's back, the demon crunching steadily away on his soul.


Mei stirred the small pot of hearty chicken soup slowly, watching the steam rise from the gently bubbling concoction. It was nearly finished. She grabbed the lime she'd sliced earlier from the cutting board and squeezed half of it into the soup, stirring some more. From the guest room in the back of the house, she heard coughing. Mei poured the soup in a deep bowl and grabbed a fresh spoon from the drawer. Carefully, so the soup would not spill, she made her way toward the guest room.

Ameyuri lay in the double bed with her long red hair loose and splayed across the white pillows. She wore purple pajamas, and her nose was as red as her hair from constant blowing. A small mountain of used tissues was overflowing the wastebin beside the bed. Mangetsu was in the bathroom running the sink, and four-year-old Suigetsu was hovering suspiciously near the nightstand, where Ameyuri's Kiba swords were sheathed and leaning against the wall.

"You sound like an old lady with a smoking habit with all that coughing," Mei said as she set the bowl of soup on the bed tray over Ameyuri's lap.

"Eat shit," Ameyuri grumbled as she swirled her spoon in the steaming soup aimlessly.

Mei rolled her eyes. "You eat. You need your strength if you want to get better."

"Who died and made you queen?" Ameyuri tasted the soup experimentally.

"I've always considered myself a queen, for your information."

"Yeah, right. If the day ever came where they put you in charge of anything, we'd all be dead and the village would burn down."

Mei frowned. "You're in a worse mood than usual. Do you have a fever?" She pressed the back of her hand to Ameyuri's clammy forehead. It was warm, but not too warm.

"I'm fine," Ameyuri said, sniffling loudly and swallowing a mouthful of soup.

Mei was not so sure. "This is the third time you've been seriously ill this year. No one gets the flu that often."

Mangetsu emerged from the bathroom and immediately checked on Suigetsu, who busied himself drumming his fingers on the nightstand totally not checking out Ameyuri's swords. "Don't worry, this is just Ameyuri's body finally rejecting her sour personality."

Mei bit her tongue to keep from laughing, and Ameyuri looked like she might get up and throw her piping hot soup in Mangetsu's face just to make it merge with his body when he liquefied. But before she got the chance, she coughed violently again and fumbled for the tissue box. She blew her nose as loudly as a fog horn, and the effort enervated her mind and body as she hunched over shaking. Disgusted, Ameyuri tossed the used tissue onto the trash pile. Mangetsu scooped up the bin to empty it out and peered at the newest addition to the heap. He held up the freshly used tissue between his fingers and dangled it in front of Mei and Ameyuri. The sticky mucous between the folds was a dark yellowish-green.

"See? Definitely essence of sour," he said.

"Oh, go get boiled, you fucking CamelBak," Ameyuri said.

"That's not very nice to say to me, seeing as I'm allowing you to recover in my house."

Ameyuri sniffled and returned to her soup, grumbling curses. "Only 'cause my place's a shithole and you can hardly go a day without seein' my beautiful face."

Mei grinned and caught Mangetsu's eye, but he shook his head and went to empty the wastebin. Unfortunately, the entire exchange had diverted the adults' attention from a certain three and a half foot tall domestic terrorist, known to his closest companions as Suigetsu Hozuki. Ever the opportunistic little terror, Suigetsu swiped Ameyuri's Kiba swords with a level of stealth other four-year-olds might envy and made a sneaky getaway. Almost. Ameyuri, always in tune with her favorite torture tools, noticed their absence and immediately zeroed in on Suigetsu absconding with the demonic swords. She shrieked and nearly vaulted out of bed, but she was lethargic and slow, and Mei had just enough time to snatch the bowl of soup before it spilled and yank Ameyuri back by the collar of her ridiculous purple pajamas.

Suigetsu made a run for it, a sword in each hand more than half his height and bulky in his little hands. But as fate would have it, Mangetsu intervened in the nick of time. A wondrous wall of water bubbled up and completely blocked off the exit to the small guest room, and Suigetsu yelped in surprise. He brandished the twin Kiba swords in front of him, but his arms shook with the disproportionate length and weight of them vis-à-vis his small body.

Before Suigetsu knew what had hit him, Mangetsu's arm materialized through the water barrier and grabbed one of the Kiba swords. Surprised, Suigetsu jumped back and held onto the other Kiba sword with both his hands, determined not to let Mangetsu steal it. Mangetsu stepped out from the water wall, slowly reforming, and brandished Kiba at his little brother.

"Suigetsu," he said in his best no-nonsense voice. "That's a big sword you have there. What did I say about playing with the big ones?"

"Close your eyes and it'll be over soon?" Ameyuri said.

Mei snorted with laughter, but clamped a hand over her mouth when Mangetsu shot her a dirty look.

Suigetsu was not having it and bravely slashed at Mangestu with surprising agility and grace for a four-year-old. "I don't care! I'm gonna be a Legendary Swordsman!"

"Not today you're goddamn not," Ameyuri said, trying to get out of bed again.

"Whoa there." Mei grabbed her arms and hauled her back into bed.

"Let go!" Ameyuri protested.

"Suigetsu, I'll only say it once," Mangetsu said. "Give me Kiba."

"No! I'm the best at school with kunai! I wanna fight!" Suigetsu jumped and lunged at Mangetsu to prove his point.

Mangetsu expertly parried his kid brother's attack, and Suigetsu liquefied his legs to land safely and swipe low. Mei could only watch in awe as this baby moved about as well as she did when she was learning the art of the sword. The clang of steel filled the room as Mangetsu hunched and deflected Suigetsu's earnest attacks without really fighting back. But he got serious pretty quick and did a double feint that caught Suigetsu completely off-guard and would have cut the kid through his middle if Suigetsu had not liquefied out of pure fright and instinct. Gasping, Suigetsu tumbled to the floor and dropped Kiba. Mangetsu scooped up the second sword, now wielding both like he'd been born to do it. Suigetsu rubbed his bottom where he'd landed hard. He could not liquefy his entire body yet, only parts of it at a time. In a move that could have made even Kisame proud, Suigetsu glared up at his brother with their shared violet eyes and jutted out his lower lip.

"No fair!"

Mangetsu twirled the swords in his hands so that the hilts faced Suigetsu as he kneeled down. "There's no such thing as 'no fair' in a fight. There's just what you can do, and what you can't do."

Suigetsu was doing his level best not to start crying as he continued to glower at Mangetsu and rubbed his nose vigorously. They were both soaking wet from the short skirmish and making a mess on the floor.

"Okay," Suigetsu relented, averting his gaze.

Mangetsu smiled softly and rose to his full height. Suigetsu was quick to follow. "You're getting better, little brother," he said.

As if the last five minutes had been completely forgotten, Suigetsu practically beamed up at Mangetsu and basked in the small but heartfelt praise. "Really?"

"Really."

"You know what I really wanna know?" Ameyuri said. "How the fuck you got so good at wielding Kiba."

Mangetsu returned the twin swords to their resting place by the nightstand. "You've been sick a lot this year."

Ameyuri looked about ready to have an aneurysm. "So you've been stealing my Kiba to practice? You got your own damn sword!"

Mangetsu looked as smug as a cat with cream. "I like variety."

"Oh, now you've done it. How 'bout I shove Kiba so far up your ass you forget how to liquefy at all, you thieving son of a bitch—"

Mei shoved a spoonful of soup into Ameyuri's mouth before she could keep going. "You know, Suigetsu," she said, smirking, "I'm still waiting for those sharp teeth."

Suigetsu crossed his little arms. His white hair was a mess and stuck up at odd ends on his head.

"But you know, I have a good feeling about you. I think you'll be even better than Mangetsu one day."

Suigetsu's expression changed dramatically as his eyes widened and he gaped at Mei like she was some celestial being descended from on high. "You mean it?"

Ameyuri grabbed the spoon from Mei's hand and swallowed the soup she'd been fed, but she wasn't happy about it. Mei slipped off the bed and smoothed Suigetsu's unruly hair with her long fingers. She graced him with a smile, a pretty one she kept secret for the times when she felt more human than monster.

"I mean it," she said.

Suigetsu stared, a little dazzled at the idea, and couldn't help but smile back. "I'm gonna be the best damn Swordsman you ever saw."

She bit back a laugh at his poor language, anticipating some kind of backlash by Mangetsu against Ameyuri later. "I can't wait to see it."

There was a knock at the door, and Mei rose as Mangetsu went to see who was here. Suigetsu jumped up on the bed, and Ameyuri threatened him with her spoon.

"Don't you fucking dare, kid. I know how to use this," she said.

Mangetsu returned then with Kisame in tow, and Mei bit the inside of her cheek. It had been well over a year now since they'd begun seeing each other, if you could even call it that, and even now she still got a little rush when she saw him show up when he was least expected. His flak vest was a little burned around the collar, curiously.

"They haven't put you down yet, Ameyuri?" Kisame asked, grinning.

She flipped him off. "Nice to see you, too, Tuna Fish."

"Kisame," Mei said, moving to his side. "What're you doing here?"

He shifted, and they were just inches apart. She could feel his heat through her shirt, but she refrained from touching him in front of the others. He had a look about him like he was antsy about something, raring to go, but to where she could not say. "We have a mission," he said, angling his head down to see her better.

"Kisame!" Suigetsu said, standing up on the bed. "Look, look! I gotta sharp tooth!" He opened his mouth wide so Kisame could see.

"If you mean that tooth you chipped last week training, then I'm afraid it doesn't count," Mangetsu said.

"Does so!" Suigetsu stuck his tongue out at Mangetsu.

"In what universe?" Ameyuri grumbled.

But Kisame grinned and ruffled Suigetsu's damp hair. "You keep at it, kid."

Suigetsu beamed at the attention. "Y'know what? I'm the best at school!"

"That so?"

"Uh-huh!"

Mei leaned down to his eye level. "There's nobody as tough as you? Are you sure?"

Suigetsu made a face. "Well, I guess Chojuro's okay..."

"Chojuro?" Mei asked.

Suigetsu shrugged. "He's older, but he's real shy 'n stuff. Kind of a pussy."

Mangetsu sighed. "Suigetsu, language."

Suigetsu blushed and looked at his feet, but Kisame chuckled. "I bet he is if you say so."

"So what's this mission?" Mei asked.

Kisame regarded her. "The usual. Yagura wants it done fast. We got a lotta ground to cover."

She nodded. "I'll run home and grab my pack. Ameyuri, when I get back you better be back to normal."

"Yeah, yeah, get outta here, already. I've had enough of you for one day," Ameyuri said.

"Good luck," Mangetsu said softly.

"Hey Ameyuri, if you don't get better, I'll take good care of Kiba for you," Kisame said.

Ameyuri made a face. "You try it, and I'll carve you up like a jack-o-lantern. Believe me, it'll be an improvement for you."

He grinned and followed Mei out. She told Kisame to wait for her at the main gate while she quickly ran home to change and get her travel pack. Twenty minutes later, Mei was ready to go in her grey Jōnin flak vest, blue shinobi gi, and standard-issue arm and leg guards with a light survival pack hanging off her shoulder.

"So, who're we killing today?" she asked as they set off to the southwest.

"Spies from Stone. Three of 'em," Kisame said.

"Oh, yeah? Your Cypher Division sniff them out?"

Kisame didn't look at her as they made their way through the thin forest toward the endless moors in the distance. "Something like that."

She stopped him with a light touch on the arm once they were clear of the village limits and away from prying eyes. He cast her a glance askance, and she studied his expression, searching. "Hey, is everything okay? You seem distracted."

He paused a moment before grinning toothily, like he always did. "You know you're the only distraction in my life."

But Mei wasn't buying it. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"That. Smiling when you're not happy."

"Who says I'm not happy?"

She stepped closer and had to look up at him, he was so much taller than her. Unlike at Mangetsu's place, he did not bend down to meet her and instead looked down at her over his flat nose.

"Kisame, it's me. Whatever it is, you can tell me." She ran her hand up his chest, fingers brushing the burn marks in his vest collar, wondering.

"Do you trust me?" he asked all of a sudden.

"What kind of a question is that?"

He took her hand from his chest and ran his thumb over her knuckles, staring intently like he was trying to find some imperfection in her unscarred skin. "Just a question."

"Of course I trust you."

"Why?"

Mei frowned. "You don't think I should?"

"There are things," he began, pausing to find his words. "There are things I keep, that I don't tell anyone, not even you."

"We all have secrets," she allowed. "I don't tell you everything, either."

"It's like lying," he said, still examining her hand.

Mei closed the distance between them and touched her fingers to the raised tattoos on his temple. "It's okay to keep some things secret. It's not a lie, it's just human."

"Human," he repeated, finally looking at her.

"Well, we're not birds or something."

She smiled, that smile she saved when she wasn't trying to disarm and distract, but the real one that wanted nothing in return.

"Hah, no, we're not."

Satisfied, Mei hooked an arm around his neck and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss him. He let her and soon had her by the waist, a hand tangled in her ponytail. It was unhurried and drawn out, not like their usual feverish rush in their haste to close the space between them. She smiled into the kiss as he held her close, memorizing this feeling. It was tempting to hold onto him, make him stay and waste the rest of the afternoon away just the two of them. They'd done it so many times before, and it never got old. Still, he seemed hesitant right now, like his mind was elsewhere, so she pulled away and searched his eyes.

"You wanna go murder some spies together?" she asked.

"Are you trying to get me hard?"

"Is it working?"

He flashed her a grin, showing off his pearly sharp teeth. Mei bit her lip.

"Come on," he said. "We can play later. Right now, I want to cut someone."


Approximately three weeks, a chronic headache, and budding anger management issues later, Mei and Kisame had finally tracked down and slaughtered the third and final Stone spy after chasing him as far as the mainland. He'd gotten wind of their pursuit after finding out about his allies mysteriously being murdered one after another and tried to flee the country like a fucking coward. Mei was not happy about having to traverse the innumerable deserted islands between Water and Hill Countries, but Kisame seemed to become ever more invigorated as the chase dragged on. He started dictating his plans for what he would do when they finally caught the little punk, each iteration more gruesome than the last.

When they inevitably cornered the spy because there was no way this slimeball was eluding Mei Terumī and Kisame Hoshigaki when they were out for blood, Mei stopped him dead in his tracks with the threat of lava, and Kisame revealed a new technique he'd been working on—the Water Prison. Mei wiped the cooled lava from her lips and watched as Kisame summoned water from out of thin air to swirl around and entrap the spy, a skinny middle-aged man built for the underbelly of society rather than among ninja. The enchanted water suspended him in a perfect sphere while Kisame powered it with a hand in the dome. The spy held his breath and tried in vain to break out, but Kisame's chakra did not bend under the spy's best efforts.

"How did you do that?" Mei asked. "There's no water around here for miles. Not since we landed on the coast."

Kisame kept his focus on his slow drowning technique. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."

Mei sidled up behind him and draped her arms around his shoulder lazily. "Why Kisame, are you flirting with me?"

"Always, Gorgeous," he said, a little distracted as he watched the spy squirm and slowly run out of air.

The spy held his throat and his eyes began to bulge as he struggled to hold on. Mei pulled at the zipper of Kisame's vest and dragged her nails across his exposed chest while the spy watched them from his watery prison, slowly slipping into darkness. She stood on on her tiptoes and kissed Kisame's severe jawline, insistent, and he stiffened, snaking a hand around her hip in a bruising grip. The spy gagged, no longer able to withstand the pressure, and convulsed as chakra-enhanced water filled his lungs. It was over in a few seconds, and he fell still as he hunched over in the center of the water prison, drowned to death.

Kisame removed his hand from the bubble, and it collapsed with the spy inside, who tumbled to the grassy ground in a soggy heap. Kisame immediately turned his full attention on Mei and all but ripped her vest off. She laughed, her hands just as eager and impatient, and soon they were backed up against a tree with nothing between them but their heat. He was rough and unforgiving, as always, and she pulled him closer, silently demanding more.

Mei pushed him down onto the grass, the sunlight subtle gold through the leafy canopy above and casting shadows on his bared chest beneath her. She ran her hands over him as she moved, enjoying their inverted position and looking down on him. He noticed her wicked smile and tried to flip them, but she drew the kunai she kept on her person at all times and pressed it between his ribs, just hard enough to nick the skin. That was the tipping point, and he sat up and grabbed her roughly by the hair to pull her into a crushing kiss, teeth and tongue and drowning. Mei dropped her kunai, and they fell back to the ground together, losing all sense of time and place.

The spy lay contorted on the ground a few feet away, his eyes open and glazed as he stared up at the canopy and the blue sky beyond. Mei studied him as she stretched out and gathered up her clothing. Kisame buttoned his pants and was working on slipping his arm guards back on when she rose, dressed again, hair a beautifully tousled mess, and slipped her arms around his shoulders from behind.

"What about him?" she asked. "Want to bring him home?"

Kisame finished his adjustments and turned in her embrace to face her. "Not really. He's no trophy."

"Good. Either way, I would've made you carry the head."

"Made me? Are you sure about that?"

She ran her fingers playfully through his hair and broke their contact. "I can be persuasive."

He muttered something under his breath but didn't argue, and soon they were leaping through the canopy back toward the coast a few miles out, their mission completed. Mei had never spent much time on the mainland. It was so different from her native Water Country. The greenery was overwhelming compared to the rocky islands, sandy beaches, and foggy moors that characterized her home. The forest was so thick here, in fact, that she could not see much farther than about fifteen or twenty feet ahead of her. And it was far warmer even in the early spring months here than it was in Water Country, where storms were frequent and the sky was almost always overcast and gloomy. But it was home, she reasoned.

Home...

If nothing else, it was the only home she had. She stole a glance at Kisame running next to her, elegant despite his rather large size and rough appearance.

"It's home because you're here," Utakata had confided all those years ago.

It was home because of Kisame, too. And Mangetsu, and Ameyuri, and all the others she'd come to know growing up a daughter of the Bloody Mist. Now, she could not imagine Mist without them, or them without Mist. Sunny days and lush green trees were all well and good, but it was not home. It was not Mei.

As they soared through the treetops and Mei let her mind wander a bit, she was slow to recognize the danger she and Kisame were stumbling into without even realizing it. The trees seemed suddenly to blend together and go on interminably, though she was sure she could hear the sound of breaking waves in the distance not long ago. Now, there was not even the wind. The air was hot and shimmering, and her sight was so hyper-focused all of a sudden that she could see the veins in the leaves she passed. Next to her, Kisame had begun to slow as he, too, realized something was wrong.

Genjutsu, Mei thought, suddenly afraid.

They had walked right into it without even knowing it, which meant the caster had to be someone of monstrous skill and finesse. She and Kisame stopped, and he nearly lost his balance on the tree branch, queasy. Mei felt the urge to vomit in the pit of her stomach and tried to steady herself against the tree trunk. She caught Kisame's gaze, and an unspoken understanding passed between them. Breathing heavily, Mei struggled to perform the seal she needed, and Kisame crouched down on his branch, perspiring from the debilitating effects of the powerful genjutsu.

It took more effort than she feared she had in her body to expel the acidic mist from her body, like the moment of temporary paralysis between sleep and waking when the body is nothing but a comatose meat sack but the consciousness is awake and trapped inside. Mei shook with the effort, bile rising in her throat and evaporating as it joined the poisonous haze she spat up and allowed to engulf her. Not two seconds later, her stomach plummeted in a ghastly free-falling sensation, and all of a sudden she could breathe again. The Genjutsu was dispelled, and whoever was responsible was fleeing to escape the miasma she'd created.

"Kisame!" she gasped, jumping to catch him before he could fall.

He was groggy, still paralyzed, so Mei drew the shortsword Ganryū had given her for her eighteenth birthday just weeks ago and sliced a thin shallow gash in his arm. The jolt of pain was enough to break the trance, and he jerked awake as if from a deep sleep. It only took him a moment to get his bearings and switch to the defensive as Mei's acidic mist began to dissipate all around them.

"Who's there?" she demanded. "Come out, or I'll burn the forest down with you in it."

There was rustling in the canopy up ahead, and two people in painted red and white masks emerged. They wore shinobi uniforms, black and white, and each carried katana on their backs. Before Mei could say a word, Kisame beat her to it.

"Well, well, well, Leaf ANBU," he drawled. "You're a little far from home."

More movement behind them, and Mei glanced over her shoulder and spotted two more Konoha ANBU, also in masks. Surrounded. Not good.

"So are you," said the taller of the two masked ANBU in front of Kisame and Mei. His voice was muffled, but he sounded young and confident. Never a good combination. "I assume it was you two who killed that man?"

Is he stalling? Mei thought. If she could get him talking, maybe she and Kisame could make their escape.

"He was a spy," Mei said, laying a hand on Kisame's shoulder in a silent gesture she hoped he could understand. "It was our duty to eliminate him. We don't have any quarrel with you, Konoha."

"Are you in such a hurry to get back to the Bloody Mist?" asked the lone woman of the Konoha team from her position behind Mei.

Mei had to bite her tongue to keep her temper in check. It was one thing for Mist nin to talk about her home that way, but foreigners who had no connection and no right were way out of line. "Are you in such a hurry to die?" she shot back.

The woman, a petite but muscular specimen with long purple hair, drew her katana. "Try it, bitch. Or maybe it's your pet monster who fights your battles."

Kisame shifted just so under her palm, and Mei smirked at the ANBU woman. "Careful," she said. "You don't know who you're talking to."

The first ANBU, presumably the leader, spoke again. "Mist has no business on the mainland. If you won't leave quietly, then we'll be forced to—"

The guy never got a chance to finish his rehearsed threat because all of a sudden, Kisame, in an inhuman display of speed and dexterity for one so large and bulky, shot across the canopy and drew his nodachi so fast and so hard that it split through the leaves and the branch where the shorter ANBU was standing, silent. But the ANBU was fast, too, and jumped backwards with a gasp of terror. His white vest tore, and blood squirted from his shoulder. Kisame's skillful blade moved so fast that the ANBU's painted mask split in two and fell to the ground. The ANBU regrouped a distance away, his partner-leader quick to follow, while the female ANBU in back shouted a curse.

But as impressive as Kisame's skill with the blade was and Mei's earlier determination to use the distraction to slip away, she found that she could not move. Not because of another genjutsu or other paralytic, but because of what was now plain for all to see. The ANBU Kisame had attacked was not just a particularly short man, but a child. His face was still round with the last of his baby fat, and a shallow red cut now ran across his forehead and left temple where the tip of Kisame's sword had sliced him. Red like his eyes that spun with the infamous doujutsu, Sharingan. An Uchiha child. He could not have been more than ten years old.

That genjutsu, Mei thought, horrified. It was his Sharingan...

A monstrous child.

"Itachi!" the older ANBU said, rushing to his aid.

Itachi Uchiha.

"I'm fine," Itachi said, wiping his face of the thin trickle of blood that collected at his chin. He was panting, spooked, but those ruby red eyes spoke of a terrible power and tranquility far beyond his young years.

"Huh," Kisame said, watching Itachi. "You got death in your soul, kid. I can smell it on you."

Itachi said nothing, those beautiful ruby eyes glittering in the muted sunlight through the canopy.

"Don't move!" commanded the fourth member of the ANBU team, the woman's partner still positioned behind Kisame and Mei.

"Tenzou, Yugao, hold!" the captain commanded.

The confusion was beginning to wane, and Mei knew the window was closing. Kisame sensed it, too, despite his temporary surprise at the revelation that a fucking child had caught him in a debilitating genjutsu. He tensed, ready to spring at any moment. Any moment, as it happened, was now. Before anyone could react, Kisame drew a breath and spat out a thick column of water directly at Itachi. But the kid was fast and flew through a series of hand seals. He opened his mouth, and a tremendous fireball roiled and rocketed toward Kisame. Their jutsu clashed with a steaming hiss that sent the temperature in the warm canopy skyrocketing for a moment. Mei sheathed her shortsword and moved before she even processed what had happened.

Yugao, katana poised, launched into the air and delivered a devastating Wind Release slash that cut through the very air and sliced a chunk of Mei's hair clean off before she could barely leap to safety. Flying through a round of hand seals, Mei sent a tremor through the earth below and summoned a thick rock spire that shot straight up through the branches to impale Yugao. But her partner intervened.

It was surreal, like a child's nightmare when she's afraid of the dark. But this was real. The trees came alive and went after Mei as though they had a personal grudge. The branch she was balancing on twisted and caught her by the ankle, while another tree branch grew impossibly fast and would have impaled her through the chest if she didn't have enough upper-body strength to pull herself up and narrowly avoid it. Nevertheless, the rushing wood grazed her back and shoulder, ripping her clothing and tearing open her skin with a thousand splinters that burned like she'd been stuck with a fire poker. She cried out and fumbled for a kunai to cut free her ankle.

Kisame noticed her plight and summoned a Water Dragon out of nothing at all that collided with the enchanted wood, splintering it before it could run Mei through completely. He landed on the branch that trapped her and broke it with his bare hands, pulling her up. There was no time to thank him because Itachi and his captain had recovered enough to come after them directly.

Itachi leaped into the air like a bullet, small and quick, and Kisame followed him with his eyes. It was his undoing because suddenly, Itachi pulled Kisame into another genjutsu that made him convulse with otherworldly pain. Mei gasped as she reached for Kisame before he could fall and supported his weight over her shoulder. But the ANBU captain came at her with his sword, quick as lightning, and behind her Yugao was also poised to cut her to ribbons. The branches shifted again, and Tenzou the tree whisperer prepared to trap Mei in a wooden cage where she and Kisame would be powerless to escape, much less fight back. She could feel them all closing in, hyenas to the slaughter.

It pissed her off. They had no idea who they were dealing with, these children who thought numbers could save them, that masks could hide them from her wrath. Not today, goddamnit. Not any day. There was one benefit to hubris, that celebrated tragic flaw, and it was the sheer determination to win no matter the cost. Mei was determined as hell.

She summoned her chakra and released the familiar burning in her throat, letting her fury fuel it. Molten lava burst from her mouth in a spout that moved according to her chakra and expanded around Kisame and herself like a sentient tornado. Tenzou's wood caught fire and turned to ash on contact, and Yugao screamed in terror as she scrambled backwards to avoid the deadly magma vortex. But Mei was not about to let any of them escape her wrath. With a burst of chakra, she manipulated the lava to separate into a hundred small bullets and expand.

They were not fast, not like Kisame and not like Itachi. But they were a hundred years of agony in a droplet, and they were merciless. Making good on her promise, Mei's lava immolated the forest in a thirty-foot radius in all directions, pockmarks of fire and char where the lava hit the trees and the grass below. Like weeping sores, the fiery wounds infected the trees as the lava slowly trickled down their trunks, burning everything in its wake. There was hardly a conflagration. The magma was so hot and so potent that the surfaces it touched went from healthy wood to ashes in the blink of an eye.

But because the lava bullets were not fast, the Konoha ANBU were able to escape the worst of them. Tenzou threw up a wooden barrier that took the brunt of the attack while protecting Yugao and himself, while Itachi's Sharingan slowed down reality enough for him to move faster than time and avoid the bullets. The captain, however, had been nearly upon Mei when she launched her attack and did not escape unscathed. Lava splashed his mask and the front of his ANBU vest, and he scrambled to rip both off his person before he was incinerated along with them. Itachi was forced to break the torturous genjutsu he'd placed on Kisame to help his captain, and Mei took the opportunity to jump to safety where the Konoha ANBU could not surround her. Lava pooled on the ground, congealing but still teeming with her chakra.

"Fuck," Kisame said, clutching his head and shaking a little.

"Kisame, are you okay?" she asked, helping him stand on his own.

"Yeah." He shook himself out and rubbed his face. His hands were still shaking. Whatever Itachi had put him through had cut deeply. "Hell of a ride."

He was grinning despite his labored breathing, and for a moment Mei was a little bit appalled by his inhuman resilience. Many had called him a monster for his strange appearance, his incredible chakra reserves, his skill with the sword shared by few others except the ones they called Legendary. For a very brief moment, Mei saw what they saw, the true face of Kisame's demon, not the blue skin and the tattoos and the sharp teeth, but the part that made him a force of nature when he got going. The part that could take multiple of Itachi's genjutsu and get back up, draw closer, until all that was left was the killing blow. And in that moment, she felt safer by his side than she ever had before with any other person.

Itachi had successfully helped his captain rid himself of the burning mask and vest, and they regrouped far enough away to be out of earshot. Mei scanned the four Konoha ANBU, debating what to do next.

"I say we burn them to the ground," Mei said.

"I really love your enthusiasm," Kisame said, regaining his grip on his nodachi as he prepared to attack again.

The ANBU were moving again, getting ready to surround Kisame and Mei again, but the Mist nin were not about to let them. Separating, they began to power up their best jutsu to completely overwhelm the enemy in one devastating blow. Mei flew through a round of hand seals and summoned her lava in the shape of a roaring dragon that hurtled through the trees. Tenzou tried to give it something to burn and force it to lose momentum with his wooden walls, but the molten dragon ate right through them as though they were nothing but flimsy rice paper barriers. Kisame, meanwhile, channeled his incredible chakra reserves and conjured a mystical wall of water out of thin air that swept through the canopy chasing Mei's lava dragon. Together, they drowned the forest and everything in it as their combined power attacks closed in on the ANBU.

But then, the strangest thing happened. Some of Kisame's conjured water began to churn and swirl angrily, and as though possessed, it reversed its course and slammed into the rest of the great wave with a deafening smack. The tidal waves collided and soaked everyone and everything in the vicinity. The force of the storm waves was enough to split trees and send Mei flying. She landed hard against a thin tree trunk, her back exploding in pain. Her lava dragon was drowned in the collision and dissipated into scorching hot steam that shriveled the leaves of the canopy, exposing the sun above.

"What the hell was that?" Kisame said, more amused than pissed off. "How did you do that?"

The ANBU captain, now sans mask and vest, glared at Kisame with mismatched eyes. Unbelievably, one of his eyes glowed red with the Sharingan, though he did not look much like an Uchiha. "Thanks for the new move," he said.

Mei stared openly at the unmasked captain. It couldn't be... His hair was longer and even more unruly than it had been all those years ago, and his voice was deeper, more masculine, older. He possessed a power now that he hadn't back then, a lone Sharingan eye that, from the looks of it, had allowed him to copy Kisame's killing wave technique and use it against him. But he still wore the cloth mask over his mouth and nose, and that arrogant streak she remembered in him had not abated.

"Kakashi Hatake," she said, incredulous.

"Who?" Kisame said.

Kakashi heard her name him and caught her eye. There was a flicker of something there, recognition perhaps, but he did not know her right away. "You..." he said, almost in question.

"Hey, it's rude to steal somebody else's secret technique," Kisame taunted. "I want it back!"

Kisame lunged for Kakashi without warning, nodachi drawn and ready to strike. Kakashi leaped backwards and flew through a round of hand seals that Mei recognized almost instantly. No way...

The water from Kisame's magnificent killing wave gathered and rose from the earth in the shape of a great dragon that roared and hurtled straight for Kisame. Kisame burst out laughing and slashed at the water dragon, a blur of blue and grey disrupting the chakra pathways powering the dragon. Itachi and Yugao were ready to intervene, however, with a Great Fireball and some seriously quick swordsmanship. Kisame was forced to parry Yugao's attacks, and Itachi's fireball forced them apart again as they fled from certain incineration.

"You're nothing but an imposter, a copycat, Kakashi Hatake," Kisame said. "A copy-ninja."

"No matter how strong and special you think you are, there will always be someone better."

Mei watched, arrested, as she recalled Ganryū's wise warning to her when he'd first begun training her after the Chuunin exams.

"Ah, you've already met someone like that, haven't you?"

"You want an original technique? Then I'm happy to oblige," Kakashi said.

His left arm began to crackle with electricity, and the sound of a thousand chirping birds echoed in the deadened forest Mei and Kisame had razed almost totally to the ground. Lightning engulfed Kakashi's arm to the shoulder and made his Sharingan glow like a specter.

"In all your arrogance, you'll never know what hit you."

"Kisame!" Mei shouted, but she was already moving without waiting for him to listen.

Kisame readied his sword, prepared to meet Kakashi head-on, but that lightning smelled of death and Mei had always been arrogant, besides. Kisame slashed and Kakashi jumped, while Tenzou backed him up with more searching branches that hunted anything that moved. Mei spat out a thick stream of lava directly at Kakashi, who saw her coming just in time with the aid of his stolen Sharingan. They locked gazes for just a moment, and then her lava forced his hand. Electricity jumped between them as he grazed her shoulder, and her lava chewed through the various moving branches Tenzou had summoned to support Kakashi. In a split second, smoke and sparks filled the space between Mei and Kakashi, cutting them off.

But Kakashi's ego was not one to be deterred, not in the Chuunin exams and certainly not now. He grabbed Mei's arm, shocking her with the last vestiges of his attack, and she grunted in pain. Instinctively, she swiped with her curved kunai and almost smiled in morbid satisfaction at the feel of her blade connecting with the flesh of his shoulder. Suspended on Tenzou's twisted branches, they faced off in a deadly stalemate. A scar bisected his Sharingan eye, she noticed.

"I remember you," Kakashi said, searching her face. "That Lava Release... You're Mei Terumī."

"I remember that I beat you the last time we fought," she spat as she dug her kunai deeper into his flesh.

He blinked, the only indication that he felt any pain at all. "Well, I never give repeat performances."

"You'll never give any performances again after today!"

She ripped her kunai through his shoulder and he loosened his grip on her just long enough to break free. Her arm throbbed where his electricity had drawn electrical burns along her skin and fried her sleeve. She could already feel the welts forming under her shirt. Kisame, meanwhile, was now under attack by both Yugao and Itachi, sword and Sharingan working in tandem to try to catch him in another petrifying genjutsu. But Kisame was fast and had a shit ton more chakra than most people. He was already summoning another killer wave out of nowhere to put some distance between his small attackers and himself.

"Kakashi!" Tenzou said.

"I'm fine," Kakashi said, signaling to his teammate to regroup. "Back me up."

He was summoning another water dragon in no time, this time to attack Mei directly, and she was forced to run.

"You thief!" she shouted. "How dare you steal Mist's secret techniques!"

Kakashi's water dragon slammed into a tree in which Mei had been standing just a breath earlier, but it reformed and went after her again. She dropped to the ground and zigzagged between the trees to get away from it, but the dragon kept coming.

"It's not stealing if I give it back!" Kakashi shouted down at her. He jumped down from the destroyed canopy and began to pursue her over land.

Tenzou was also in pursuit, and the very landscape turned against Mei as she ran. An entire oak tree uprooted itself and bent to constrict her like a snake, and it was all Mei could do to fire off a last-minute Earth Release technique and swallowed the tree in one gulp like a sink hole. She jumped over the pit it created and continued weaving among the trees. But the dragon was fast and sucked up the leaves, grass, and mud in its path as it hurtled after Mei. As though the earth itself had spat up the demon, it reared over her and roared.

Mei dug her booted feet into the muddy ground, determined not to run any longer. If he wanted a fight, she'd give him the last one he'd ever be in. Summoning her chakra once more, Mei channeled everything she had into a powerful spray of lava that collided with Kakashi's water dragon. The beast swallowed the molten magma and burst into steam as it hit Mei. She shielded her face, but the superheated steam cooked her in her clothes even as she rolled to avoid the brunt of it. Searing pain painted her body down to her toes, and her bare hands were red from the abuse they'd taken. Shaking, she staggered to her feet and wiped her mouth. In between Kakashi and Tenzou to the west and herself to the east, a bubbling sea of lava steamed. There was no sight of Kakashi's water dragon anymore, but the quarter mile of forest it had chased Mei through was almost completely decimated. Heat rose from the lava in shimmering waves, giving Kakashi and Tenzou beside him a spectral appearance, like a mirage.

"Kakashi, this is too dangerous," Tenzou said. "That lava..."

Kakashi ignored his teammate. "Mei," he called, his lone Sharingan trained on her. "You've gotten stronger, but you can't beat my team. We outnumber you two to one."

"Come over here and say that to my face," she taunted, wiping sweat and grime from her forehead.

They watched each other across the deadly magma sea that divided them, just waiting, though Mei could not say for what. She could hear the sounds of Kisame's battle with Yugao and Itachi, steel on steel, and knew they needed to end this if they wanted to escape with their lives. Kakashi was right, unfortunately. The Konoha ANBU outnumbered them, and they were damn strong.

"You're different," Kakashi said, his expression annoyingly unreadable behind that infernal mask he wore over his mouth and nose. "What happened to that grubby little girl I fought back in Cloud?"

Kisame came crashing through the canopy, an enormous fiery lance hot on his tail that burned through the trees like a hot knife through butter, and landed a few yards away. He was bleeding from a cut on his right breast, but otherwise appeared unharmed. Yugao, bleeding heavily from a deep wound across her back, ran after him, while Itachi brought up the rear as he released his fire technique. If Mei and Kisame were going to make their move, it had to be now.

"What's the matter, Kakashi?" Mei said, stalling for time as she called upon the last dregs of her chakra for one final disappearing act. "You don't like my new look?"

Tenzou was done waiting for the lava to cool and suddenly summoned tree roots from below ground. They arced over the bubbling magma like a bridge toward Mei. "Now!" he shouted.

Kakashi ran toward the bridge, and Mei backed up toward Kisame just as Yugao was closing in on him.

"Kisame!" Mei shouted.

They were back to back in no time, and Mei opened her mouth as Kakashi and Tenzou raced toward her. Kakashi's left arm began to spark with lightning once again, but he was too late, and he knew it. Shock and anger were the last sight of him she saw as she opened her mouth and released a thick cloud of mist that quickly spread through the ruined forest and blocked out the sun. Kisame raised water from the muddy ground saturated with the effects of Kakashi's water dragon, and together they conjured a miasma that swept toward the Konoha attackers, engulfing them completely and hiding Mei and Kisame from view. Yugao swore and called out for Kakashi.

"I can't see a thing!" Yugao said.

Mei and Kisame were already moving together, silent as the grave, as Mei manipulated the mist to keep them carefully shrouded. Footsteps closed in on them, and a sickening snapping sound alerted them to Tenzou shooting in the dark with his killer wood. He missed them, completely blind in this haze.

"Damnit, the mist is too thick," he said. "Itachi, can you find them?"

There was silence as Mei and Kisame paused, wondering if the Sharingan would be their undoing. Kisame raised his hand in a seal and prepared to turn the mist into a killer wave if necessary.

"This is no ordinary mist," Itachi said somewhere to the right. "It's oversaturated with chakra."

Mei's heart raced. He can't pick us out from all our chakra in the air.

Kisame picked up on what she was thinking, and they shared a significant look. He gestured silently to the east, the direction of the sea and their way home. Mei nodded and drew her shortsword, and they began to move again. He went first, and she tailed him, careful to move the mists along with her and disperse her chakra signature to fool Itachi's Sharingan.

All of a sudden, Mei heard the song of steel and realized she'd lost track of Kisame. He chuckled somewhere to her right, and she froze.

"Itachi!" Yugao shouted. Footsteps, farther away.

Kisame laughed again, now to Mei's left, and she could have screamed. He was toying with them when their priority should have been to get away! Mei clutched her shortsword and swallowed hard. She trusted Kisame, there was no way he'd put their lives at risk for a game. She just had to keep moving.

"Aahhh!" Yugao screamed, but she was immediately silenced with an awful gurgling sound.

"Yugao!" Tenzou shouted farther back. "Where are you? Yugao!"

Mei shifted her chakra within the mist and felt the presence of three figures gathered close together. Kisame had instigated his Water Prison technique, this time on Yugao, who was fighting frantically to get out. Itachi found her and slashed mercilessly at Kisame as he powered the technique, but it was merely a water clone that dissolved on contact. With the clone gone, the Water Prison dissolved, too, and Yugao collapsed to the ground and gagged.

"S-Son of a bitch," she spat.

Mei skated by them, light of foot, as Tenzou shouted and fumbled through the mist to get to them. She caught a glimpse of Itachi and Yugao hunched over on the ground together, and for a dreadful second she was sure Itachi could see her through the mist. He stared right at her with his Sharingan, but he could not pick her out through the amorphous and continuous spread of her chakra. Despite the gravity of the situation, Mei could not help but stop and look at him, just a boy fighting alongside seasoned warriors twice his age. Such pretty eyes, such a cute face, so familiar with death. Not a child at all. He looked away, never having seen her at all, and called out to Tenzou.

"Over here," he said, calm as still waters.

Mei faded back into the mists and headed east after Kisame. She had to get out of here before the ANBU regrouped. A figure moved in the mist just ahead, and for a split second she was sure it was Kisame. But when he came into view, Mei had to stifle a gasp and jerked to a stop. Leaves crunched lightly underfoot, and the figure whirled and moved. Mei summoned the mists to surround her, but he was already upon her and all she could do was defend with her shortsword when his katana came crashing down.

Caught in a bewildered stalemate, Mei found herself inches away from Kakashi's masked face, his mismatched eyes boring into hers and just as surprised to see her as she was to see him. This close up, she saw how truly stunning the Sharingan was, red like a summer sunset. The contrast with his true eye was so jarring that she could only wonder at what he must have gone through, what pain he must have endured, to acquire this aberrant power. He seemed to be watching her, too, as they stood at a silent impasse for a few breaths.

"Where'd they go?" Yugao said as she continued to cough up water from her near-drowning.

"It doesn't matter," Tenzou said. "You need a hospital. We should retreat for now. This wasn't even our mission."

"Captain," Itachi called.

But Kakashi was a little busy at the moment. He had not called out to his team, and Mei was sure that if he engaged her in hand-to-hand combat now after the draining battle they'd had, he would surely overpower her. Even now, she recalled vividly his skill with the sword during the Chuunin Exams. After so many years, she could only imagine that Kakashi's skills had improved tremendously, perhaps putting him on par with the likes of Ganryū. She gritted her teeth and pushed back against him. Ganryū had taught her quite a few new tricks, too.

"Kakashi," she whispered, desperate and frustrated and furious that she'd let herself get caught like this.

The mists swirled around them, as though transporting them to another dimension where only the dead dwelled, a cold and lonely Eden meant for monsters. But strangely, she felt him ease up and pull back. He separated from her, careful to keep her in his sights, and lowered his weapon. Mei could not believe what was happening.

"Kakashi!" Tenzou called. "Damnit, he better be okay."

Mei snapped out of her confusion and immediately made a run for it. But Kakashi did not try to stop her, and the mists swallowed him as she left him behind.

"I'm here," she heard him call out, far away as though through water. "I'm all right."

He faded behind her, and she was running as fast as she could now to the east. The leaves and grass soon turned to sand underfoot, and her palm sweated against the metal grip of her shortsword, but she dared not let go of it. Kisame was there on the shore, sword drawn and walking back toward the forest when he saw her burst forth.

"Where the hell were you?" he demanded. "I thought you were right behind me."

"I'm fine, let's get out of here," Mei said, winded. She sheathed her sword.

Kisame didn't need to be told twice and sheathed his nodachi. Together, they took off at a hard sprint over the water toward the nearest island a few miles out. From there, they would hop from island to island on the way back to the main stretch of land that was Water Country proper. Home.

Mei dared not look back as she ran east, suddenly realizing she was shaking, and not from the aching pain of her many injuries. She could not get the image of Kakashi's grotesque mismatched eyes out of her mind, the idea that he'd either been subjected to a transplant against his will or done the deed himself, all for power. What else was there? And Itachi, the child soldier that had fought toe to toe with Kisame and her like he'd been doing this for as long as he could walk.

Kisame, as always, was a steady presence beside her, looming and powerful and familiar, safe. The face of a monster, but the heart of an ally and so much more. But monsters, whether created or born, horrific or beautiful, are still monsters.

"Hey," Kisame said as they ran. "You okay?"

But perhaps it was not the sharp teeth or the pretty eyes or the masks that made them monsters, she thought as she ran across the water, defying the laws of nature. Perhaps it was the things that remain unseen, the shadows twisting just out of sight. The secrets we keep, from ourselves and from each other.

Why did he let me go?

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied.

She bit her tongue so hard it began to bleed.


Before anyone brings it up because somebody always inevitably does, canon Akatsuki Itachi is uber, yeah, but not at 10 years old. Come on, he didn't pop out of the womb as the god shinobi he eventually became. He had to learn and bleed and sweat like everybody else, but he just spent less time doing it than most others before he achieved perfection. So I think it's pretty reasonable for him to stumble a bit against Mei and Kisame right now, who are older and more experienced at this point. Plus, he didn't have the Mangekyou Sharingan yet. It's not that I don't like Itachi (I really do), but you get the point.