A/N: Chapter fourteen! I know I let you at a horrible cliffhanger last time, and I'll try to make up for it in this chapter! Once again, thank you for reviewing. I'm going to try to keep things realistic, so Tsume won't be able to suddenly use Zabuza's sword really easily. She was lent strength, and she's gonna be really sore after it's over. This could have something to do with the face that my arms really hurt from Iaido (Japanese sword art) and lifting my boken (wooden practice sword) over and over. Well, I think that Tsume-chan is gonna keep the sash and sword. I just love the idea of Haku being a guardian angel. Now, IKU ZE!
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It was as if the sword had a life of its own, and it seemed to pull Tsume's arms as it slashed in a swift, wide arc at the man. He gave a yell of surprise and leaped to the side, just barely avoiding being slashed in half by the huge blade. He was on Tsume's right, and she twisted her body to slash at his legs. His sword met hers and he was shoved back, the blade of his sword breaking in half. Tsume let the spine of the sword rest on the ground, standing tall as she stared at the man. The sensible thing to do would be to run like hell as far and as fast as possible. But this man wasn't sensible. In his mind, he'd been cheated of a prize that he had rightfully won, and now the prize, his prey, had the gall to fight back. Anger flashed in his eyes as he stared at the woman standing before him.
"How?!" he snarled. "How can a mere girl wield that sword?! It's not possible!" Tsume stood perfectly still. She wanted the man to leave so that she wouldn't have to kill him. She didn't like killing, but she would if it was necessary. But instead, the man put his fingers to his lips and blew. A high, clear whistle rang out, hanging in the night air. His face twisted in a malevolent grin. "Now you'll get it! You can't move fast enough to get all of us!"
Suddenly the path was filled with other figures, all with masked faces and holding weapons of varying sorts. They were all watching her with hidden eyes, their gazes burning on Tsume's bared arms and legs. She shivered as she felt the lust that rose in them, and her hands tightened on the sword. She wished that Kisame would come, that he could fight these men and not her. Tsume knew that she would have to kill them, and that was something that she did not want. She did not want to kill. When she had killed before, it had nearly broken her.
And then they charged, weapons raised with intent to capture, not to kill. They wanted Tsume for more than just a captive. They wanted something from her that she could not give. She would kill to protect herself if she had to, even though that was not at all what she wanted. She wanted a peaceful life, one without violence and death. "But that is the path that I have chosen," Tsume thought, lips tightening to a grim line. "I have chosen to follow Kisame-sama. I have chosen to learn the art of the shinobi, to become of use to the first person to show me kindness. If I must, then I will kill . . ."
Tsume met the attackers with the biting edge of Zabuza's great sword. Metal clashed on metal and the smaller blades shattered. Tsume swung the sword in great, swift arcs. She could feel the warm splash of blood against her skin, the coppery scent filling her nose. Men came at her from all angles, and Zabuza's sword seemed to move to block them, protecting Tsume while striking down foes. One after another they fell to the will of the blade. Tsume could feel the tears in her eyes as the attackers died at her hands, but she held them back, remembering her promise. She would not cry, she would not be weak.
"This is for Kisame-sama. I will fight to be of use to him!" Now using her own strength along with that of Zabuza and Haku, Tsume plunged herself into the fight, face stern and set. She forced back her tears and revulsion of the blood that now spattered her body and clothes. She felt her body straining with the weight of the sword, but somehow she still held it with ease, whirling in circles and dancing about to defend and attack. She refused to look at the faces of those she killed, she could not bring herself to truly see what she was doing. But she also knew that she was taking her first steps on a path she decided for herself. It was something she wanted. Something that only she could decided and carry out. With renewed determination, Tsume swung her sword again.
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Kisame cursed as he swung Samehada, the unwrapped blade shaving away skin and smashing bone. The coppery smell of blood was heavy in the air as he, Itachi, Deidara, and Tobi fought against the masses of masked figures that came at them in seemingly unrelenting numbers. Again and again Kisame paused before he killed a foe, growling out harshly, "where is she?!" None would answer, and all met their death by the shark-nin's hand.
"Why did they take Tsume, un?!" Deidara called over the noise, fighting instead with his body rather than explosives. After all, the enemy could be holding Tsume captive somewhere in in the trees. It seemed a kind of unspoken agreement that none of them wanted Tsume to come to harm.
Kisame smashed his fist into a man's jaw before answering. "Hell if I know!" he yelled. "But I'm getting annoyed!" Another figure fell to Samehada.
"They are of the Tanpai," Itachi said calmly as he dispatched two of the attackers. "They must have followed us."
"Tsu-chan better be alright!" Tobi said vehemently, striking out with his legs.
Suddenly, a different scent rose above the mingling blood of the attackers, reaching Kisame's keen nose. He lifted his head trying to catch it again. Yes, he was certain of it; that was the smell of Tsume's blood. Kisame remembered her scent well from the second day that they had know each other. The smell of Tsume's blood had been strong in Kisame's nose when he had bitten her, and he had never once forgotten it. Without another word, Kisame launched himself from the clearing, speeding as fast as his legs would carry him along the path of Tsume's scent.
As he ran, thoughts danced in Kisame's mind. "Why am I doing this? Why am I trying to save her? She's just a prisoner . . . isn't she? Why am I so worried? She shouldn't—she shouldn't mean anything to me. Just another pretty face. But . . . she . . . she was so intent on helping me. She was trying so hard to become stronger. It couldn't have all been for me . . . could it?"
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Tsume winced as a blade found a way through her guard, slicing across her right shoulder, cutting the strap of her dress as it bit into her skin. She gave a small, silent cry. She put one hand on the spine of the sword, pushing it into the back of her foe's neck, relieving him of his head. The bodies of the fallen lay all around her, the ground thick with blood. Tsume was surrounded in a circle, only the long reach of Zabuza's sword keeping them from getting to close. But there were a few who had managed to dart in, quicker than Tsume was with the massive weapon. But they had all fallen.
Her arms—her entire body—was aching, the strain on her muscles turning into pain. Tsume knew that she couldn't last much longer going like this. The aid of the spirits could only do so much. Tsume's breath came in ragged gasps, but she forced her body to keep moving. Again and again she swung the sword, Haku's sash flapping around her arms. Despite the blood that stained the blade, the sash remained clean; as clean and pure as the boy that Tsume had seen in her mind. Tsume sent up a silent prayer to the beautiful boy and the man he had devoted himself to.
Tsume felt longing in her mind; she had lost the person that she had been devoted to, the person who had saved her. Since that dawn four years ago, Tsume had had no one whom she could devote herself to, no one she could love and protect. She had cared about Aya, but not in the same way she had cared about Aki-oba-chan. Aki-oba-chan had been the only parental figure that Tsume could remember, and when she had been taken from Tsume, Tsume had been alone. She had had no one to love and protect. So . . . why was she fighting now?
"Kisame-sama . . ." The answer was as clear as crystal. It was Kisame that Tsume was fighting for. She was fighting so that she could be of use to him. She wanted to protect him, just as he had protected her.
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Kisame gave himself only a moment to wonder at the scene that he saw before him. Tsume, fighting with Zabuza's sword in the road beside the graves. And then Kisame was beside Tsume, lashing out with his own sword, sending all who came at them flying. A weak smile curved Tsume's lips, her amber eyes tired. And still she fought, moving with Kisame as they both lashed out with their blades, engaged in some kind of deadly dance.
It was strange; it had been many years since Kisame had fought along side with Zabuza, and yet his sword was still being wielded as it always had been, swift and strong. It almost felt like Zabuza was fighting along side him. But Kisame knew it to be Tsume. Her gentleness was still there beneath it all, beneath the power and strength that was not hers. Kisame chuckled to himself; Zabuza, and that boy, Haku; they were guiding Tsume, moving the sword and giving her strength. Kisame understood now. Before, Tsume had reached out to Zabuza and Haku, and they had met her. Tsume had felt them and their emotions, and now they were helping her to fight, giving her the strength that she wanted to achieve, but did not, as of yet, have. It was temporary, but still the strength was there.
And then it was over, as quickly as it had begun. There were no more Tanpai clan members to fight, no more men lusting after Tsume's body. A growl sounded in Kisame's throat. He turned around to face Tsume. Her back was turned to him, her entire body shaking. Her hands were still clamped around the hilt of Zabuza's sword, Haku's sash wrapped around her lower arms. The tip of the sword was resting against the ground, Tsume suddenly straining to hold onto it. The strength that she had been lent was gone. And yet the spirits were still there, still in the blade and sash that now bound them to each other and to Tsume. Slowly, Tsume turned her head, her eyes meeting Kisame's. Withheld tears shown in the amber depths, crimson spattered across her pale cheeks. The right strap of her dress had been cut and she was bleeding there, but otherwise she was unharmed. Her only other wound was exhaustion. Tsume gave Kisame a weak smile, and then she fell, eyes rolling back as her consciousness left her.
She fell with Zabuza's sword still in her grasp. Kisame lay down Samehada, and moved to kneel at Tsume's side. Questions rose up in his mind again as he bent over the young woman, but he shoved them aside. Her body was shaking with fatigue even as she lay, unconscious. Kisame moved to pull the sword and sash from her hands. Tsume tried to hold onto the sword, but her hands were too weak to hold onto the hilt. The sash, however, she caught tight in her hands, and she whimpered when Kisame tried to pull it from her. Kisame gave a small, half smile, and let Tsume be, clutching the sash to her chest. Laying Zabuza's sword aside, Kisame pulled bandages from his cloak, and proceeded to clean and wrap Tsume's wound as best he could. When this was done, he pulled out a sealing scroll from a pocket hidden in the lining of the cloak. It was plain that the sword was now to stay with Tsume, to be given to her when she could wield it with her own strength. Kisame unrolled the scroll, and lay it out beside the sword. He closed his eyes, and placed his hand flat against the ground between the sword and the scroll. There was a puff of smoke that obscured everything for a moment. When the smoke cleared, there was no sign of the sword, and Kisame was rolling up the scroll and stowing it back in his cloak; he would give it to Tsume later.
"You did good," Kisame whispered, lifting Tsume up into his arms, "Tsume."
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Hm, not too many reviews on the last chappie, but oh, well. I hope this wasn't a disappointment to you guys. I'm a bit drained right now, so I hope to get reviews to perk me up. Ja ne!