That thing happened again xDD I'm halfway through what I'd wanted in the chapter, and I'm at 5000 something words xDD So this is another like, crappy chapter where nothing happens xD Well, stuff does happen, but I wanted to avoid making it like, INSANELY long.
So XD There were some people talking in the last chapter who are finally introduced. My apologies to all Raiga fans if I've butchered him completely, and the same for Kisame n.n;;
So...um... I don't think anyone Beta'd this one, so I apologize for any and all crappy errors xDD But, but! another of the super-fantastic Nobukane's OCs shows up xDD so credit for that guy goes to him. Him, him, him. Not me.
Oh xD and some random crap about Kotone's Dad xDD I'm working on a little thingie about him for the "odds and ends" like... oneshot thing xD
So! Thank you to everyone who's reading this, and reviewing, and hopefully enjoying it n.n
Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, Naoko and Tsubasa belong to Nobkane
"Please, wait,"
There was no real reply save a turn of the head from the other men filing out of the dusty room. Ogakuzu had waited for the meeting to end, Mizukage Sama having only just left, the moment now favourable for his own announcement. It was only when the water shadow called them together that they assembled completely. As much as he'd have liked to address Zabuza alone, this seemed too suspicious.
"What is it, old man?" A younger male, perhaps in his mid thirties, snapped, taking the cigarette from his mouth, and letting out a vile wisp of smoke as he exhaled. He sauntered back into the room, through the bands of light let in by the drawn curtains.
The group's tallest member had yet to leave, and stayed where he was, lazing in a musty old armchair, that threatened to collapse on it's age weakened legs. A much slighter man was leaning against a wall not far by, eyeing the oldest with a half tilt of the eyebrows.
Zabuza's hasty exit was blocked as the brown haired man reentered, backing away from the noxious cloud the cigarette had left. "You know there's rat poison in those things, Nezumi?" He growled.
"Pah!" The man waved the comment, and at the same time, smoke, away haughtily. "'s no decent poison then. Or they're pathetic rats."
"As I was saying." The blond cleared his throat, despite's Nezumi's mutterings of not being drunk enough to deal with such talk, or company. "As you all know, and as Mizukage Sama mentioned, I'm in search of an apprentice. I have no candidates in mind, and am completely open to suggestions."
To everyone's surprise, it was the slender blond who spoke up, brushing a soft, well kept lock of golden hair from chivalrous eyes. "What about your student, Kisame San? You could train another for yourself."
"Nah," The larger one shook his head heavily, sharp teeth flashing with each gruff syllable. "This isn't exactly Naoko's kind of thing. She's never been one for brutality, and, please forgive me, Ogakuzu san, there is no other way to describe Kiyoshi."
"And Samehada is perfectly humane then, eh fishface? What if you croak, would she be one to swing around that barbaric mess you call a weapon?"
There was a tension that sparked through the air like one of the green haired man sitting back against a table, gaping at the scene 's techniques, but to the others's alarm and great relief, Hoshigaki smiled.
Though it was not a smile that should have, in any way, been comforting.
"Nezumi," The commenced, all too politely, blue tinted, ashen lips pulled back to frame rows of large, razor sharp teeth, in a wide, unnerving grin. "I don't think I'll have any need for a replacement, any time soon."
Ogakuzu blinked in surprise at the fight he hadn't had to break up, and cleared his throat in homes of recapturing the room's attention, and killing the deadened silence that was clawing at everyone's chests. "Please. Anyone? Anyone at all. Surely there must be at least one other ninja at our level, or close too it, in our village. Think: Is there any one outside of this room who can keep up with you fighting?" He tilted his head to the side, with a wily grin, gaze fixed upon the dark haired boy trying desperately avoid his eye. He'd been avoiding his weapons instructor since their conversation a few months ago, and the older man had been trying to find and opportunity for this discussion ever since. "If I don't choose soon, our dear Mizukage Sama will chose for me. Hasn't he been awfully fond of that Kasumi boy, as of late? I mean, I think he'd need quite a bit of training, but perhaps he has the potential to succeed me, and join-"
"Alright!"
Ogakuzu's grin widened, eyes glinting with mischief, as Momochi slammed one hand down on Raiga's table, and the threw the other into the air, both movements impulsive and violent. Raiga jumped.
"Momochi San, do you have a suggestion?" He couldn't help but chuckle at the mock innocence in his voice. He'd been warned to use subtlety, but he'd been antagonizing the demon, and they both knew it.
"Yes." He slumped back to rest against the wall, which to Ogakuzu, really only came off as an attempt to regain his composure, and assert his indifference. "Ume Kotone."
"Pffffffft!" Nezumi covered his mouth with one hand, not managing to save the cigarette that tumbled from his mouth as he doubled over in a laughing fit. "Poor guy. That sounds an awful lot like a chick's name."
"That's because she's a woman." Kisame stated evenly, with a nod in Zabuza's direction. "She runs the department of torture and interrogations, Risu San.
"You're shitting me." Nezumi asked, a dark, incredulous eyebrow raised above an even darker eye. "You want to bring a girl into the Kiri no Shinobigatana Shichinin shu? Risu crinkled his nose in distaste, frown deepening when the other man's gaze remained steady, and dead serious. A glance from Kisame, to Raiga , then Ogakuzu revealed their own assent. "Humph. I guess it's not unusual that the tracker and interrogations captains would know each other."
"I thought you lived with her, Momochi kun," Raiga piped in, the happy little grin wilting on his face as the expression in the aforementioned mist ninja's eyes registered. He scowled, and turned himself around easily on the table's varnished surface, in a pout that didn't belong on any respectable jonin, let alone one of the Shichinin.
"What's this, now?" Risu beady eyes glistened wickedly, his smile taking an equally sinister air. The rat-nin chuckled, his voice drenched in mocking that Zabuza could imagine pooling on the floor beneath his feet, in venomous puddles. "Could it be that Kijin has a nice little Yasha tucked away for himself somewhere? Oh, how sweet. How lovely."
Zabuza's grip on his arms, which were crossed tightly against his chest, grew tighter, a low growl rumbling from the back of his throat. If looks could somehow kill, that glare would most likely have reduced the older man to a smouldering heap of ashes. However, this was not the case, and Risu remained very much intact, and chuckled to himself. "She was my training partner." He corrected, fighting to keep his tone from descending to a genuine snarl.
"Ah, well then." Risu's sadistic grin faded into his normal tone of sick amusement, folding his arms behind his head, and collapsing into another arm chair, that might have been yellow, when it was new. The cloud of dust it coughed into the air seemed to inspire the lanky jonin, and he pulled another cigarette from his sleeve. "My partner was a kunoichi." He confessed, with a knowing nod. "You know. Until I killed her, and all!" He took another drag from the foul, toxic scented roll of paper, throwing his head back in a cruel laugh. "Got her in the gut with a kunai. Poor thing. She was definitely dying, but it was taking way too long, of course. That's an awful way to die, slow and painful." Another nod of the head, his unsettling glee never fading. "Ref had to finish her off, to be kind and get the next match up and running on schedule. Ain't that right, old man?"
The room's gaze turned slowly to the examiner.
"Yes." The old man's voice had dropped to a harsh whisper, face a deliberate blank, though his knuckles were turning white in fists at his side.
"So it's decided, then? We'll consider the kunoichi a viable candidate?" Zabuza had actually forgotten that the other, more delicate blond was in the room, still off by himself in a corner.
"She's Naoko's superior, and I'd very much like if it's merited." Kisame agreed, with a curt bob of his head.
"I'll clear it with my uncle, then." No one objected, so the smaller man started for the door, the thin fencing weapon at his side clicking daintily against the wooden door frame. Zabuza sucked in a deep breath of stuffy air, letting it out in an extended sigh.
He was soon going to regret this, he just knew it.
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
The large mass of glossy black fur purred appreciatively as Kotone scratched at her ears, a smaller, though similar black ball of fuzz yawning from where it was curled in her lap. A waste of time, and chakra, yes, it was. But Zabuza's sudden favour of the cold shoulder had left her rather... She sighed.
She'd been rather lonely, as of late.
But it didn't do much good. The cats were straightforward beings, and the concept of idle small talk was lost on them. Menou wasn't so bad, but like his kin, his thoughts weren't quite human, and really relating in a conversation was awkward, feline though she might be herself. Without a direct purpose to attend to, such as tearing apart an opponent, or devouring his corpse, the cats grew bored, and fidgety. Kogane had turned up her nose indignantly at the thought of being called simply to talk, and had quite promptly returned to where she had come. The other two were willing to put up with her pointless need for companionship, but she could tell that they were not ecstatic about the idea, and she never kept them long.
Kotone yawned, stretching, and resuming the patting of her furry companions, who actually seemed content, this time, fast asleep beside her on the couch, or on her lap. Her ponytail was pressing against the back of her head, if she leaned against the couch, so she'd slumped over to the side slightly. Over her metal wire netting, her usual dark happi was replaced with the more pale blue yukata she had grown to find more comfortable recently. In fact, if she adjusted the hem, and tied back the sleeves with tasuki, it may very well be as good for fighting in.
The two cats's sat up abruptly, topaz and jade eyes shooting wide, Kotone having much the same reaction, as the door was thrown open.
It wasn't a bright day outside, the air cool and crisp, and heavy with moisture. The silver sheen of fog over the grass and between the trees was visible in the moment the door was open, before being shut again, as her less than talkative roommate stormed inside, eyes fixed on her much too seriously. "Oi, Zabuza? The hell's the matter?"
"Come with me." He grunted, starting for the door again. "And leave the flea bags." Both felines pulled back their lips, bearing their fangs and hissing sorely at the uncaring mist boy's back.
Kotone got to her feet, appraising the other with a wary eye. "What is it?" The sleek black animals sprang off of the sofa, and, with a clearly disliking glare at the demon, disappeared. He gave an odd little jerk with his shoulders, an impatient hand running through his dark, unkept hair.
"The others are having... I don't know what it is, exactly. But there's alcohol and cards, and they want me to bring you along."
"Wait- what?" Kotone gaped at him, an eyebrow raised in sceptical calculation. "Why?"
He turned slightly, shaking his head with another low rumble, and dragged her off, by the hand. She squeaked in surprise, but not in protest as he led her through the woods outside their home, and down to the village. He was actually being more gentle than she'd have expected, giving that she'd essentially been abducted by her old training partner. "What's gotten you in such a foul mood?" She giggled slightly, her free hand covering her mouth. Another ambiguous grumble was his only reply.
Her light hearted mood vanished as completely as the village did through the thickening mist, as they drew away from the main streets. The buildings and walls faded to a grey shadow, as the scenery grew more desolate, as an abandoned quarter seemed to be their destination. She'd never really been out this way before. It was eerily still, the dull roar of daily life faded through the thick grey haze, and it was warped into something surreal.
Like the real world's noise one can hear while dreaming.
He'd slowed his pace, but glanced over his shoulder at the other when she made no move to pull her hand away. If anything, she held tighter. "Where are we?" Zabuza knew better than to answer. He heard her draw in a breath with which to perhaps prod at the issue further, and pulled her around the next corner a bit more harshly than was absolutely necessary. Her train of thought interrupted, she seemed content to survey the desolate scene. High, crumbling stone walls created corridors in the isolated neighbourhood, countless decaying houses, built in their country's most traditional style, were nestled in the corners, gardens overgrown, and roofs rotting away.
"Here we are." Zabuza released her hand, loping up the few front steps one of the larger houses, and pushing the door open. She noted with no small amount of mistrust the way the stairs and front porch had creaked and shuddered under his weight, and she climbed a tad more carefully.
It was dark, in the dusty hallway she followed into, the only light seeming to come from the nearest room down a long hallway. However sombre the abandoned home was, there was a certain moth-eaten grandeur to the place, and she felt rather guilty leaving her sandals on. But Zabuza charged ahead, and she kept pace, hesitating only when he disappeared into the lit room.
"Ah. Why am I not surprised? Momochi's friend was imaginary." Not a voice she recognized. She poked her head around the sliding door's frame, Zabuza had twisted himself around to see why he hadn't been followed, and narrowed his eyes at the hiding Kunoichi.
It wasn't that she was afraid, exactly. Relating to new people was far from enjoyable, and the idea of sauntering into a room full of dangerous, heavily armed, and probably-drunk strangers set off every alarm in her ninja's mind. But, shamed by his glare, and her own shyness-that wasn't-shyness, she entered, blinded quite suddenly by the change in brightness.
"Kinda... small, isn't she?" Zabuza glanced back at the kunoichi, who's pale eyes were still adjusting to the brightness, though she was looking in Risu's direction, as it was he who had spoken. Height wasn't the issue. She was as tall as Nezumi, or Tsubasa, at least, and Kisame dwarfed them all by a large margin. She was lithe, built on a smaller frame, narrow shoulders and an understated upper body being the rat-nin's point.
"She's strong enough." Zabuza assured, but was less than convincing as his companion blinked stupidly at the others, still seeing oddly coloured dots floating before her eyes. Zabuza, having actually considered the problems the dimly lit hallway would present, had the sense to close his eyes before entering the brighter room. His eyes were darker, and adjusted more quickly anyways.
Kotone, eyes now functioning, squeaked in surprise and looked down, as something tickled her leg. There was a small, black rat climbing up the mesh over her shin, and it's shiny little eyes were fixed on her own guilelessly. She sent it flying, and it scurried back to it's master.
The man who bent down to pick the creature up was bony, wavy brown hair- which was very uncommon in their country- covered one half of his face, the rest pulled into a long braid down his back.
"He says you smell like cat." The man spat, not bothering to disguise his distaste. "So you're the twerp with that blasted summoning contract, are you?"
She nodded. "Are you Hatsuka San's father?" She asked, the resemblance uncanny.
"Uncle." The man corrected, eyes narrowed. "My elder sister Kairi is the one with the three brats."
"Nezumi Risu." Zabuza muttered, taking a place against the nearest wall, and apparently deciding to ignore her as best he could.
Hoshigaki Kisame was unmistakable, the room's largest occupant, and somehow obscurely familiar. There was something unsettling in his stare, and feral in his smile, but he somehow seemed the most welcoming nonetheless, and Kotone bowed politely. He returned it, though not as deeply. "This is Raiga San," He acknowledged the green haired man once again seated cross-legged, expression gloomy. He muttered something about hating his present company, but the massive shark-nin ignored him, and continued his introduction. "This is Tsubasa San,"
He nodded his head in the blond man's direction, and he bowed as well, Kotone joining hurriedly. "It's a pleasure." He looked younger than Risu did, but would have to be somewhere in his thirties, built delicately, his golden hair well kept, and elegant. She'd never meet Tsubasa, but his name was not unfamiliar. He was Hachidaime Mizukage's nephew, and perhaps that explained the way some of the other men were glaring at him.
"One of our number is away, at the moment... you've met Risu San, I see, and I believe you and Momo-kun are already very well acquainted..." He only grinned when Zabuza growled at him. " I suppose that just leaves Ogakuzu San."
"Nice to meet you," The older man smiled, the wrinkles around clever green eyes becoming more prominent. He was old, but there seemed to still be something vivacious in the man's gait, and posture, as he stepped forward, extending a hand in greeting. She took it, but was completely absent during the handshake. Zabuza had been right, he did sound familiar... Very much so...
"Oi, Koneko." She grit her teeth, straightening at the thrown insult. "This is no place for little girls. Go home sweetheart, before you hurt yourself." Kotone crossed her arms across her chest defensively, shoulders hunched.
"I might hurt you," She muttered through clenched teeth.
"The hell did you say, girlie?" Risu took a drink from a glass of something she had no doubt was alcoholic, lips pulled back into a sneer.
Kotone actually took the time to glance about large the room now, eyes suitably adapted to the light from above, and filtering in through the many cracked, dusty windows along the far wall. The atmosphere was dismal, more dust particles floating in the air, their swirling dance visible only in the squares of light the windows cast. It would have been lovely once. Not fancy exactly, but cozy, and were the paint not so faded, the plants not wilted, and dead in their pots, and the flooring not cracked and rotten, it would have been quite pleasant. It gave dreary the impression of neglect, and abandonment, an ghoulish kind of loneliness that sent a shiver down even the interrogator's spine.
"Still though... A woman? Are you kidding me? You want some delicate little sissy prancing around, crying, and feeling, and doing all that other girl-crap?"
"One of the founding seven was a woman." The old man pointed out, fixing Risu with a steady eye.
"Hm. Oh well, 's not like she'll be the only girl. Right Tsubasa?" Risu chuckled to himself when Tsubasa's face twitched momentarily from it's noble serenity, and the flicker of annoyance highly gratifying. He stopped his unkind prodding quite abruptly, a distracted air claiming his expression and stance, as he studied Raiga's table's surface for a long moment.
"Wait... Momochi, what'd you say the kid's name was?" Risu raised his eye to peer at her, one hand, loosely clutching at the glass he held, resting near his chin in contemplation, his beady eyes scrutinizing her face much too closely for her tastes.
"Ume Kotone." She answered sharply, unsure of why he expected Zabuza to do it for her. Risu took another long swig of what was probably sake.
"Ume...?" His eyes widened, and he spit the liquid out suddenly, the smell of alcohol saturating the air. Risu wiped his mouth with his sleeve, taking a step closer, and actually grabbing her chin with one hand. Kotone flinched, starting to turn away, but Risu stopped her.
"Ah ah ah...I outrank you, girl." He chided, as Risu proceeded to turn her face as he liked. She was still, and made no complaint, her superior's intrusive handling met with quiet submission . Zabuza watched out of the corner of one narrowed eye, expression hidden by cloth wrappings, though his knuckles turned white in clenched fists. "Oi, old man... Is this...?"
"Ume Gyouten's daughter." He answered, with a solemn nod of his head.
An immediate cry of distaste ripped from the rat's smoky throat, and he retched, taking a step back. "Momochi, what the hell are you doing bring that bastard's brat here?" Risu Grimaced, retaking his place at the other end of the room.
Tsubasa's expression had turned sour. "Treachery is a grave sin indeed." He added softly. "But I hold no bad blood against you, Kotone san. His crimes are not yours."
"Gyouten's crimes weren't even against Hachidaime." Ogakuzu pointed out, evenly.
"They would have been if he'd lived long enough." Risu spat.
The room's younger occupants, Zabuza, Raiga, and Kisame all looked rather bewildered, either blinking, or glaring at one of the senior members. Kotone's eyes were closed, a forced calm straining her patience. She'd only heard her father's first name once before, but she remembered it well.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Oh, so no one's told you about that frigid, two faced asshole who fathered you? I hope you know what it is your family used to be famous for, Kitten." He grinned. "Backstabbing."
"That's not true-"
"Oh, but it is!" The gaunt Nezumi continued, black eyes glinting cruelly, his smile never wavering. "You see, the Ume family has had quite a dubious reputation, and that glacial jerk I remember almost solely by report was no exception. Your grandfather, if it's true, fought in three takeovers, always for a different leader, before he was killed. Not so sure about his other kids, but I'd guess they all died the same way. Gyouten was one of Shichidaime's supporters, and then, not long after, one of Hachidaime's most loyal. That last coup d'état twelve years ago didn't end so well for him, now did it?."
"Stop it..." Kotone pushed her thumbnail into the palm of her hand, drawing blood. It was only her interrogator's training that allowed her to stay calm, and she wasn't sure why she was so upset in the first place. But the uncomfortable tightness in her chest was there, and she refused to let this stranger know he'd caused it.
It was unsettling, being around a group she was unfamiliar with, for reasons outside of duty, or combat. There was no goal in mind, and their eyes on her were disquieting. More sets of eyes meant more chances to catch a falter, a mistake, a flicker of some feeling that should not be present in a kunoichi's heart.
That last thought made her very conscious of the way she was leaning closer to her old partner, the thought of hiding behind him until this whole ordeal was over seeming very tempting. But she heaved a shaky sigh, eyes still level with Nezumi's as she remembered her composure. She was a ninja, and the stupid, worthless feelings flitting about her stomach and chest cavity had no meaning.
"Basically, Ume-ninja switch sides whenever it's convenient to them. How long till you turn on Hachidaime, hmm? Finish Daddy-dearest's work?"
"I have no intention of..." She paused, breathing deeply and collecting her thoughts. She had few memories of her father. White hair... glasses...the back of a flak jacket... She knew almost nothing about him, himself. As much as she wanted to deny Risu's accusations, they... they fit. He was gone often... He died twelve years ago, when Hachidaime had come to power... "I'd never-"
But Risu interrupted, turning his irked expression in the demon's direction. "Oi, Momochi." He snapped. "Shut up your bitch, she's pissing me off."
Kotone's pale eyes narrowed, gleaming with an icy fury as she bared her two sharp teeth, an hissed. Clawed hands curling into fists at her sides. The noise was barely human, and Raiga twisted himself around for a moment, unsure of it's source.
Had she not been seething, perhaps she would have admitted to herself that she was in desperate need of human friends.
"You calling me out, kitten?" Risu's head lolled against his chest, which shook with laughter. A hand on the hilt of the katana he wore at his side sprang into place along the hilt, thumb flicking the blade an inch loose. "I'm warning you though..." A mad grin split his face, her still feral eyes glaring at him. "I hate cats."
She threw herself out of the way, a flash of silver filling the space before her, as the blade swished angrily through the air she'd occupied am instant earlier. She stumbled back, noting with a dull terror the extent to which the Yukata, in it's present state, hindered her movements. She narrowly escaped another slash, the Katana's sharpened edge just narrowly missing her shoulder as she yanked her arm inside of her sleeve, and out, letting that half fall back over her shoulder. The loosened garment's cylindrical form was ruined now, but it gave her a greater range of motion, and she kicked her attacker in the gut when he raised his weapon to strike again.
Survival always won over modesty, but without her thick netting covering her bare skin, she doubted she'd have been as willing to employ such tactics.
She sidestepped a vertical swing, throwing her foot at his rib cage, then the other at his face. Only the first landed true, and he ground his teeth with a dull roar, as she swung her elbow at his face, then sternum. He avoided the strike, and thrust the blade forward, Kotone now having to evade, skipping back across the room a fair ways.
She avoided the distraction of glancing at Zabuza, but the others were watching with either rolled eyes or a half-interest.
Risu's eyes were wide, and manic as he down brought the sharpened edge of the katana with a mighty effort. Kotone's reflexes nearly failed her, and the weapon crashed down on an innocent armchair behind her, splitting the fabric, and splintering the wood. Kotone grabbed his wrist, holding it, and the hilt it held, against the ruined furniture, a back kick to the stomach her first thought for attack.
Risu's eyes rolled back in his head, and the other jonin dropped to the floor clutching at his abdomen, muttering every curse and swear their country had to offer, a few foreign oaths peppering the vulgar mess. But he clambered to his feet, grasping for his sword with a furious glower, and sprang at the kunoichi with no less vigour.
"Risu San, If I may be permitted to cut in..." The other didn't wait for a reply, and Risu leapt away as an immense shadow dropped on the kunoichi. She whirled around, not quite moving fast enough to save herself from the thing she was being attacked with.
Kotone let out a pained squeak, blocking the bizarre weapon's fall, the force behind which was incredible. It was bandaged, the uncovered end a scaled, quivering mass of blue, organic looking tiles. Another cry ripped from her throat, as the spines tore the skin from her forearm, blood seeping between the deep, sea coloured plates, and dripping to the floor below. Kisame grinned.
"She's had it now." Raiga chirped brightly, to the other men listening.
The most recent member frowned, an eyebrow cocked suspiciously in the green haired man's direction. "What do you mean by that?"
Risu pulled another cigarette from his sleeve and clenched it loosely in his lips. "You'll see." He muttered around it with a smugness that made the demon's eyes narrow further.
Kotone reinforced her blocking arm with the other, adjusting her stance to keep the unbelievable force Kisame was exerting from throwing her to the floor. Sharp teeth grit, and containing another cry she leaned forward, but skidded back, as her balance began to fail.
The dark haired kunoichi's vision began to swim, her knees buckling beneath her. Had she had all her wits about her, she may have noticed that the pressure had been relieved, and that her opponent was content to let his weapon lie unaided against her defences. But as it was, she was not, and continued to resist as her head reeled, and arms began to shake.
Why do I feel so...weak?
It was like a sickness, her arms burning hot as the rest of her body grew cold. The heat drained from her toes, and legs, her torso soon chilled as well, and slowly...slowly began to creep from her arms... Her breathing grew laboured, heart pounding with a dogged desperation in her chest.
"Samehada is a marvellous weapon." Kisame informed the girl, who swayed dangerously on her unsound footing, with no small smile. "It eats chakra."
A senseless vocalization, and she fell backwards, the sword quaking gleefully as it absorbed the last of it's stolen chakra. The girl collapsed in an limp, pallid, heap on the splintered floorboards. Her gaze flickered downward, and she examined the bits of torn wire sticking up at odd angles around the part of her arm Samehada had ripped away. The damage wasn't severe, and the blood loss wasn't critical. It was the shock of having that much chakra drained from her system so quickly that was making her head spin, and her knees buckle.
The heavy plodding of confident footsteps resonated through the room, a low, ominous chuckle combining with the sound, from above. Kisame's smile only widened when she tried to inch away, edging her frail body away from his approach. She was still trying to collect herself, and take stock of the actual severity of the damaged suffered, and was completely unprepared when
a broad hand darted forward, and seized her by the throat.
She sucked in a chocked, raspy breath, hands flying immediately to the thick wrist detaining her, sharpened nails digging in to the tender skin on the wrist's underside. His smirk widened as the move did no good. Her grip was too weak.
She cursed inwardly, helpless and crippled. Chakra was essential to life, let alone ninjutsu. To move, breath... it all took chakra, and the little she had left was barely enough to keep her conscious, let alone fight off such a frightful enemy. Her eyes widened however, as he stood from his stooped position, her legs leaving the solid ground below, to dangle helplessly, as he held her, always by the neck, a fair ways off the floor.
Kisame's sharpened smile was ever present, a cold kind of mirth gleaming in his shark's eyes. The helpless kunoichi struggled do draw breath through his vice like grip, the desperation clear in her wide, flickering eyes, and the frantic gasping of parted lips. Dark spots danced the outskirts of her vision, warning her of the effect a lack of chakra and oxygen would cause in a short time. She heeded the warning, and summoned what was left of her usual strength. She raised a knee as quickly as dizzied thoughts and leaded limbs would allow, aiming a kick for his jaw. Her foot connected with something solid, and she pushed herself away, as his mesmerize slackened, preparing herself for the inevitable introduction to the hard ground below.
It didn't come.
Something clamped painfully around her ankle, and she was whirled around and released, sent hurtling towards the opposite wall. Kotone lacked the vitality to put herself in a proper position to withstand the impact, and flew lifelessly to crash into a lovely little writing desk at the far end of the room. The other men either laughed or winced as the desk crumbled, setting a dense cloud of dust through the air, obscuring the scene of the wreck.
"I'm impressed, girl. That almost hurt." Kisame taunted the inert form struggling back to a kneeling position, only to collapse again. His smile took on the ferocious look of contention that had only faded briefly, raising Samehada, and charging again.
Kotone's arms strained, shaking with weakness and cold as she tried to raise herself. She fell back to the splinters and dust a moment later, her shoulders much too weak to react quickly enough to save her from the oncoming attack. She could only watch idly as the streak of blue closed in, unforgiving weapon at the ready-
A flash of silver-grey interrupted her field of vision as another massive weapon, flat and polished unlike Hoshigaki's, fell between the two with a harsh, metallic thud.
"That's enough, Kisame San."
Zabuza's eyes narrowed, a scowl showing faintly through his thick cloth mask of bandages, as he watched the events unfold from his side of the room, Kubikiri Hocho still resting where he'd left it earlier that day.
"Humph." Kisame's grin never faded, but he heaved the oversized sword over one shoulder with a dissatisfied grunt. "Have it your way, old man." Ogakuzu nodded his approval when the sturdy shark nin retreated to an armchair a ways off. "The brat isn't worth fighting, anyways." He added, once settled lazily against the rickety armrests, arms hanging over the edge, and grazing the floor. "I've seen what I had to, and I daresay I'm disappointed in you, Ume San. Naoko told me you were her department's captain... Funny, seeing how inferior you seem to be, when I consider her talents."
Ogakuzu sighed, and slowly turned to help the injured kunoichi to her feet. She was nowhere to be seen, though, only shifted fragments of wood and tiny droplets of blood indicating her pained flight to the hallway, and the subsequent creak of the front door being pushed open -very slowly- situating her outside. The senior ninja, with a quick glance at the younger, darker boy, still unmoving and seemingly unmoved, before following after his companion.
"You should take better care of your woman, Momochi." The blue tinted man's tone had softened considerably, though a drop of mocking was always present.
"Were she my woman," He replied, eyes closed, and voice flat. "I'd consider it."
For anyone who cares, what Kisame's saying is true. Naoko is at the very least, as strong as Kotone is. Probably stronger xD
And everything Risu's said about Gyouten is, technically true xDD
ooh, ooh! XD And points to anyone who's guessed where it is they're hanging out xDD .anyways! thanks for reading, please review, and have an awesome day n.n