A/N: Edit So I added some stuff, and I like it better. If you guys think that something is off, please tell me! /Edit I'm SOOO sorry for not updating in forever! Gomen nasai! Please don't kill me! Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to Aneamero, for her wonderful drawing of Tsume and Kisame! I'll post the link soon. Well, as for this chapter, it's gonna be fluff again, but angsty fluff. Sorry if my fluff is making some of you gag, but I just can't stay away from it. ; I'm trying to put up a little emotional conflict between Tsume and Kisame, because I don't think that Kisame would be one to fall in love (if you hadn't guessed that I'm going to have him and Tsume fall in love, you . . . never mind) at the drop of a hat. But I don't think that he would just push her away either. Grr, working with evil shark ninja is hard. -- But i hope you like this chapter. IKU ZE!
UNSPOKEN
Tsume felt consciousness return, but her body was still devoid of strength, and she simply lay still, letting her senses slowly return. She was lying on some kind of padding, possibly a bedroll. Something warm, soft and heavy was laid across her, something that smelled heavily of Kisame; a musky, slightly salty scent mingled with the barest hint of something metallic. Tsume could hear voices now, speaking somewhere close to her. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but she recognized he voices. She let out a soft breath of relief.
She shifted under what must have been Kisame's cloak. This showed the others that she was awake, and Tsume felt Kisame's rough, calloused hand on her forehead. It was a comforting touch, and Tsume's lips twitched in a small smile. But the smile turned to a grimace as she overwhelmed by a sudden throbbing pain that engulfed her arms and chest. Her eyes snapped open, pupils dilating as she gazed up at the early morning sky. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest aching with the effort. Her muscles were screaming in pain, begging to feel anything but the pain that engulfed them.
Instantly, Tobi put both hands on her shoulders, fingers splayed over the screaming muscles. Green light flared around his hands, shining in the corners of Tsume's vision. She let out a quivering breath as the pain eased. Shaking slightly, Tsume turned her grateful gaze to Tobi, smiling weakly up at his masked face. She imagined that he would have been smiling as he lifted a hand up gently touch her forehead.
"Are you feeling better, Tsu-chan?" he asked quietly, moving a few strands of hair out of Tsume's face. "You did a lot."
Tsume nodded, the motion just as weak as her smile. Then she turned her head to Kisame, searching his face for a hint of what he was feeling. But the expanse was unreadable, and Tsume's own brows furrowed. She wanted to know what he was thinking about her, whether or not she had failed in his eyes. She couldn't bare it if she had been useless yet again. But there was nothing in the way of approval or disappointment. Worry creased her face. Tsume pulled a hand from beneath Kisame's cloak. Slowly, she lifted her hand towards Kisame's face, her fingers shaking with weakness.
"Kisame-sama . . ." Tsume's lips shaped the words, but no sound came as her fingers brushed against Kisame's cheek, just beneath the gill-like markings on his face. Tsume's amber eyes focused in on the unique features, and she found herself wondering if they were real gills or not. Unthinkingly, she lifted her finger and touched the bottom mark. Her fingers encountered a small, delicate flap of skin, and Kisame stiffened at the touch. Tsume felt the slight wince, and she let her hand fall back. "I'm sorry, Kisame-sama. I didn't mean to . . ." Then a wave of of exhaustion washed over her, an her vision began to darken. She fought against the fatigue, but soon her eyes closed, and Tsume fell back into unconsciousness.
Kisame let out a breath as Tsume's eyes closed once again, and her previously tensed body relaxed. He idly brushed another stray strand of hair out of Tsume's face, his eyes watching her with mixed emotions. Relief, happiness, confusion, hesitation. "When did I get to caring so much?" Kisame asked himself, not hearing the others as they talked. "When did she start meaning so much to me? She was just a prisoner . . . just a temporary thing. When did she start mattering so much? Why? Why in the name of the great shinobi villages do I care about Tsume so much?!" Kisame's hands clenched at his sides and he squeezed his eyes shut. Aside from that one slight shift, none of Kisame's inner turmoil showed upon his face. He had been a shinobi for far too long to make the mistake of letting his emotions show.
But all the same, it shouldn't have been that hard for him. It shouldn't have been a fight to keep his face as still and calm as it always was, save for the occasional victorious smirk or scorning laugh. He shouldn't have even registered repressing the feelings; it had become second nature to him. But now . . . now with Tsume . . . Kisame was fighting to keep his feelings in check, to keep his face blank and emotionless.
And then, something broke in on Kisame's inner chaos. A slender, shaking hand closed weakly on the fabric of his pants, pulling gently. Kisame's eyes opened quickly, and he saw that Tsume, though deep in an unconscious sleep, was now clinging weakly to him, the only thing she could reach. The only thing she wanted to hold. Kisame's eyes flitted to Tsume's face in time to see her brows furrow. She made a soft breathy sound as she tried weakly to turn and move closer to Kisame, but Tobi put out his hand to keep her lying flat. Kisame didn't hear what Tobi said—something about Tsume not moving—and he didn't care. Moving Tobi's hand aside, Kisame lifted Tsume into his arms, shifting his cloak from her so that he could hold her gently against his chest. Kisame adjusted Tsume's arms so that they were folded gently over her chest. One arm cradling Tsume, Kisame donned his cloak, keeping his eyes lowered to avoid the gazes of his fellow ninja.
"Be careful with Tsume-san." That was Itachi's voice. Kisame jerked his head up at the sound of his partner speaking, surprise written across his shark-like features. Itachi got to his feet, pale face as calm as ever. "She has become quite strong, to lose her now would be a misfortune." Kisame stared at Itachi for several moments, brows furrowed. Had Itachi really said that? Itachi of all people, who was known for the brutal murder of his entire clan, save for his little brother. Why was he telling Kisame to be careful with Tsume, a girl who had been nearly useless weeks before?
"Right," Kisame said, wiping his face clean of his confusion. He rose to his feet, holding Tsume to him with a tenderness that none of the others could see. He held Tsume with one arm as he he slid the other into the sleeve of his cloak, repeat the process with the other sleeve. "Lets go."
UNSPOKEN
When Tsume awoke the next time, she was met only with a dull ache, not the same throbbing pain as before. She let her senses return slowly, assessing what she could. She wasn't lying on a bed roll this time, but a real bed, and that probably meant that they had come to another town. There was a single pillow beneath her head, and her hair had been pulled back in a loose ponytail to keep it out of her face. The thin blankets were pulled up to her stomach, her hands laying above it at her sides. As her attention went to her arms and hands, Tsume realized that they had been wrapped in bandages all the way up to her shoulders.
Tsume kept her eyes closed, wanting to hang onto the peacefulness of sleep for just a few moments longer. She then heard the slow and steady breathing of another sleeping person coming from her left. After a moment, she recognized it as Kisame's; she had slept close to him too many times not to know the rhythm of his breathing. Feeling her sleep fade away despite her efforts, Tsume opened her eyes, blinking away the haze. She turned her head to the side. Kisame was sitting in a chair beside her bed, cloak and forehead protector removed. His shark-like face was peaceful in sleep, and Tsume felt a small smile curve the corner of her lips.
"Thank you, Kisame," Tsume thought. Then she blinked as she realized the lack of the honorific that she usually put at the end of Kisame's name. Her brows furrowed as she wondered at herself, mildly confused. But she shrugged it off, instead focusing back on Kisame's face. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked as if he had been awake for some time. "He wasn't—he couldn't have been up taking care of me . . . could he?" Tsume quickly turned her attention elsewhere as she blushed. But her gaze was drawn back to Kisame as her wondering thoughts returned. She wanted to understand why someone like him would go to such lengths to take care of someone like her. She was learning the arts of the shinobi quickly, that was true. But compared to Kisame and the others, she was still nothing.
Tsume wanted to clench her hands in frustration at her own incompetence, but the attempt sent a sharp pain up and down her arms. She gasped, biting her bottom lip. She felt the familiar burn of tears in the corners of her eyes, and fear rose up inside her. She couldn't cry. She could not cry. She'd promised herself. She'd promised herself that she would never cry again, never shed a tear. If she was to be a shinobi, she couldn't let her emotions and feelings get in the way. She had to be strong if she wanted to stay with Kisame, Itachi, Tobi and Deidara. She couldn't fall back into being the scared, pathetic, timid creature that she used to be. She couldn't let everything become undone. All that she had done, and all that the others had done for her . . . she couldn't let it go to waste.
A tear escaped Tsume's left eye, running slowly down the side of her face to be absorbed into the pillow. Tsume's amber eyes went wide as she felt the tear roll across her skin. "No!" her inner voice yelled. "I won't lose! I'll become a shinobi that can fight on equal ground with Kisame-sama and Itachi-sama! At the same level as Deidara-sama and Tobi-nii-san!" Tsume surged upward, jaw muscles tightening as pain flared to bright life in her arms. Mouth open in a silent scream, Tsume slumped forward, head hanging as she breathed in deep, ragged breaths. She grit her teeth against the pain, moving to the edge of the bed and swinging her legs to the floor. "I. WON'T. LOSE!!" Tsume surged to her feet, arms on fire with pain. She stood on shaking legs, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. She didn't care about the pain; it didn't matter. All that mattered was being able to stand on her own two feet.
"Tsume?! What are you—?!" Tsume heard Kisame's voice as he shot to his feet, but she jerked away from his touch as he came towards her. Kisame stared as Tsume set her gaze on her backpack, kunai pouch, and shuriken holster, all of which were set beside the door on the other side of the room. Kisame could see Tsume's entire shaking and trembling with the pain in her arms. And still she moved ahead, one step at a time. He wanted to stop her, to make her lie down again. But he also knew that she was never going to give up. Ever since Kisame had seen Tsume fight with Zabuza's sword, he had know that she possessed an inner strength the likes of which he had never seen.
"I can't be weak! I won't!" Tears burned in Tsume's eyes, but she forced them back, refusing to cry. She finally came to her backpack and weapons. She fought to lift her shaking right hand to the kunai pouch, flipping the top open with a hiss of pain. She delved her hand in and closed her fingers around the handle of a kunai. As she drew it out she recognized the blade. It was the very one that had wounded her so badly before. Tsume didn't know how she knew the weapon, but know it she did. She squeezed her hand tight around the handle, biting her bottom lip until she tasted blood in her mouth. Body shaking, Tsume forced herself to her feet, denying the pain as one might deny the existence of ghosts. Standing on her feet, Tsume turned to face Kisame, amber eyes lit with an inner fire that Kisame had never seen before. She slid her body into a fighting stance as she faced him, bringing the kunai up before her. "Train me!" Tsume yelled with her eyes. "Train me so that I can be strong! I have to be strong!"
"Tsume, no!" Kisame said, holding out his arms. "Your arms haven't recovered yet. You need to rest. Stop this!"
Tsume shook her head firmly, refusing the headache that began to pound in her temples. She couldn't—wouldn't—just lay in bed while she should be training. She'd train no matter what. Through any pain, through any fear. She suddenly lunged at Kisame, intent on getting her training and increasing her strength. Kisame was surprised at Tsume's quickness and dodged to the side as Tsume's kunai slashed past his cheek. Tsume had instantly turned to match is evasion, and slammed her fist towards Kisame. He caught her fist in a gentle, strong hand, but the force made him stagger. He could see the pain in Tsume's eyes, her arms shaking. Before Tsume could strike again, Kisame caught her other wrist, immobilizing both kunai and fist.
"Stop this, onna!" Kisame yelled, eyes locking with Tsume's. "You'll only hurt yourself! You need time to heal! If you die, what use will you be then?! I don't want you to die!"
Kisame's words drained the fight from Tsume's body. Her eyes lost their fire, the blaze replaced by confusion and shining tears. Why? Why had Kisame said that? She searched his face, finding angry concern. Why? Why did he care about her? All she did was get into trouble, why did he care whether she lived or died? The pain suddenly surged up in a wave, washing over her and making her cry out in a silent scream. The kunai clattered to the floor as Tsume's hands opened and clenched in spasms. Her arms were shaking uncontrollably and Kisame's touch was hurting her, gentle thought it was. Unbidden and unwanted, the tears finally escaped her eyes as she fell forward against Kisame's strong chest.
"Easy, Tsume," Kisame said, shifting to catch Tsume up in his arms. "Easy. You just need to rest right now, okay? Even Itachi and I have to rest after a battle; it's nothing to be ashamed of." Tsume hid her tearful face in shame, knowing that Kisame would see her as nothing more than a weak girl. Kisame moved to lay Tsume on the bed, but she clung to him when he tried to release her. Without hesitation, Kisame moved to sit on the bed himself, Tsume cradled in his arms. "I'll stay if you promise to rest." Kisame said, a hand rising to rest lightly on Tsume's shoulder. "Promise that you won't try a stupid stunt like that again, onna?" Tsume nodded silently, the pain still making her cry. Kisame bit his lip, feeling useless. Where was Tobi when you needed him?
Tsume curled herself tight against Kisame, seeking comfort and caring. Kisame wrapped his arms around her, but there was something different about his embrace this time. It was more distant, more withdrawn. There was comfort, yes, and caring, too. But it was distanced, somehow distracted. Moving as little as possible, Tsume lifted her head to look up at Kisame. Her bandaged hand rose to touch his cheek.
"No," Kisame said, voice soft but sudden. "Don't. Just . . . don't." Tsume pulled her hand back, looking up at the shark-nin with furrowed brows. Why didn't he want her to touch him? Had she done something? Why wouldn't he look at her? Kisame could feel Tsume's eyes on him, even though he kept his gaze averted. He could hold her, he could touch her, but he couldn't bring himself to look Tsume in the eyes. If Kisame met Tsume's eyes, his own might bare emotion, giving himself away. He didn't want to make himself weaker by caring too much for Tsume. For almost as long as he could remember, Kisame had never really cared about someone. Never really cared. He couldn't explain it; he was a hardened shinobi, one that had seen and killed more than his fair share.
And yet . . . and yet he found himself caring about Tsume in a way he was both unfamiliar and uncomfortable with. When he had first taken her that night, she had only been a hostage, likely to be done away with later. But when the thought of 'doing away' with Tsume entered his mind, it was met by an angry refusal and determined protectiveness. And that protectiveness was not just in Kisame's mind. He had protected and saved Tsume on several occasions, and when he looked back, Kisame realized that he couldn't have just stood by at any point. Given the chance to repeat the incidents, Kisame knew that he would have done the exact same thing. Given the chance, Kisame would have protected Tsume just as fervently as he had before.
"But why, dammit?!" Kisame yelled at himself. "Why, why, why?! Why do I care so damn much? She's not anything special . . . just another . . ." Kisame didn't finish the thought, knowing that the last words were untrue. Tsume was something special. She was a special existence for Kisame; she mattered to him in a way that he could not explain. "Could I—NO!" Kisame broke off before he could complete the thought, shaking his head in fervent denial. Kisame sighed, furrowing his brows as he closed his eyes. What was going on?
Then it came to Kisame's attention that the rhythm of Tsume's breathing had changed, and that her sobs had ceased. Slowly, Kisame looked down at the small young woman in his arms. Her head was leaning against his chest, her eyes closed in sleep. Her hand had fallen back into her lap. Her mouth was open slightly as she breathed deeply in her sleep, exhausted from her unneeded exertion. Wet tear trails still ran down her cheeks, tears shed in both pain and frustration. Kisame's hand lifted, and he wiped away the tears with gentle touch that seemed strange coming from a man such as him. Tsume made a soft sound in her sleep, snuggling closer to Kisame.
UNSPOKEN
It was a dream
that Tsume had never had before. She was standing in a dark
clearing, the tall thick trees lit by an eerie red light. Tsume felt
the handle of Zabuza's sword in her grip, but the sword that rested
on the ground before her was too heavy to lift. She was breathing
heavily, body sore and bruised from battle. Tsume looked around her,
and saw the many fallen bodies of what must have been her foes. She
then cast around for Kisame, Itachi, Deidara, Tobi, anyone. Only the
dead were around her. The wounds that had ended their lives caused
by the blood-stained sword in Tsume's hands.
In this dream, Tsume had a voice, and she called out. "Kisame-sama! Where are you?!"
"Poor little thing," a soft, hissing voice whispered in Tsume's ear. "You look lost." The soft male voice froze Tsume with fear, and she couldn't move no matter how she tried. She felt fingers brush her neck, icy fingers that made her shiver. "Have you gotten lost, little girl?"
Through the fear, Tsume managed to speak. "Wh-where's Ki-Kisame-sama?"
"Oh, you mean that shark man?" the voice said. "Why, he's right in front of you." The voice twisted in sudden, joyful malice. "Right where he fell when you killed him!"
Tsume's
eyes went wide at the sight that was suddenly before her eyes. Kisame was indeed laying before her. He lay spread-eagled on his
back, glazed eyes staring up at the bloody sky. Bile rose in Tsume's
throat; the deep, blood-soaked gash across his chest could only have
been caused by the weapon that Tsume was holding at that very moment.
"N-no . . ." Tsume's voice shook, the handle of her sword sliding from her grasp.
"Oh, yes," the hissing voice said, malicious and happy. "You killed him. Just as you killed all your other friends. See?" The dark figure that was suddenly at Tsume's side gestured around the clearing. Tsume fell to her knees and vomited at what she saw. It was not her foes that were strewn about the clearing, but her comrades. Kisame, Itachi, Deidara, Tobi. They were all there. Aya was there as well, her small body almost cut in half. And then, Tsume saw the thing that nearly made her heart stop.
"Aki . . . obaa-chan . . ." Tsume's voice trembled in disbelief. She would have known that strong, compact body anywhere. The face of the woman who had been like a mother to Tsume was twisted in a scream of pain, her shirt soaked in her own blood. Tsume looked down at her shaking hands, only to find them soaked in crimson blood. "No," Tsume breathed. "No . . . no . . . NO! I didn't do this! I couldn't have done this! These people were only kind to me! I wouldn't have killed them! I never would have—!!"
Suddenly, Tsume found herself gazing into a pair of slit-pupiled golden eyes in a white face framed by black hair. An evil grin twisted thin lips, and the face laughed. "You killed them all, Tsume! You are nothing but a monster! You can't love, you can't care! You can only kill!"
And then someone laughed. It was a deep chuckle, one that Tsume knew all too well. "Shut up, bastard," Kisame's voice said. Tsume felt arms embrace her, and Kisame's scent filled her nose.
"You made Tsu-chan cry!" That was Tobi's voice!
"That wasn't a very good idea, un." Deidara!
"Hn. I can't be killed that easily." Itachi!
"Why did you hurt Tsume?! She never did anything to you!" Aya!
And then, the voice that Tsume hadn't heard in years. The voice of the person that Tsume owed her life to, the one who had saved Tsume as a child. "Who do you think you are, to hurt my beautiful Tsume-chan?!" Aki-obaa-chan! Tsume jerked her head up, squirming in Kisame's hold, desperately trying to see over his shoulder. Kisame released her, and helped her to her feet. Tsume moved around him quickly, holding her breath. And there she was. Her auburn hair going gray and pulled back in a bun on top of her head. Her sensible clothes were no longer stained with blood. Aki-obaa-chan was standing at her full height, glaring at the pale figure with blazing green eyes. "How dare you hurt her?!" the old woman growled, voice sharp. "She would never kill those she loves! You know nothing about her!"
Aya came up to Tsume and hugged her around the waist. "It's alright, Tsume," she whispered softly. "None of this is real, and none of it will ever happen. It's a dream, and you can wake up from it. You have a life to live, and people to protect." Aya lifted her face and smiled up at Tsume. "Take care of Kisame and the others. And come back to visit me if you can, alright? When you're stronger."
UNSPOKEN
Tsume awoke to the kind embrace of Kisame's strong arms. She snapped her head up as her eyes shot open. Her breathing was ragged and shallow, and her body felt clammy. She lifted a hand to grip at the strong muscles of Kisame's arms, and leaned her head against his chest to listen to his heartbeat, reassuring herself that he was indeed alive and strong. Happy tears bloomed in her eyes, but she wiped them away with the heal of her hand. When she did so, however, Tsume felt skin against skin, instead of the bandages that should have been on her hand and arm. She looked down, eyes widening. The bandages were no longer wrapped around her arms, instead coiled up in her lap. Tsume held her arms up before her in wonder, flexing her fingers. What hours before would have caused stabbing pain was once more a perfectly normal action.
UNSPOKEN
A/N: Gah! That didn't turn out the way I'd planed it. I'll probably edit it later. -- Well, I guess the fluff will be in the next chapter . . . I hope. This was mostly angst. Oh, and I'm gonna post the link to the picture by Aneamero in my bio. Go look at it! AS THE WRITER OF THE STORY I COMMAND IT! That and Tsume-chan would like it. (begs) Anyway, it's gonna be harder for me to update regularly, 'cause school's starting up again. (bleg) Thanks so much for all the faves and reviews. I really love you guys. JA NE!