Three

The sex had been phenomenal, a shattering experience for Sasori, who had thought he had put sexual need behind him years ago. But Omizu brought out his lust, he did things to her that he'd never bothered to do with other women. In the past he had been selfish and abrupt; getting off and taking his leave so to speak. With Omizu he didn't want it to end. He gave her almost as much pleasure as she gave him, and he liked it. It had shaken him.

He kept her for an entire month. By all rights he should have been injured during those endless hours of hot sex. There was an urgency between them that had led to rough quickies more often then not. As the days wore on and he felt no lessening in his desire for her, his concern grew.

Sasori was used to needing no one; and he had certainly never lusted after a woman so intensely. He couldn't stop thinking about her; she was in his dreams as well as his bed. He'd never had such an open, responsive partner. He tried to convince himself that was why she was so enthralling.

He finally sent her home, not because he was tired of her but because he was determined to put her from his mind. He left the workshop that same day, never to return. But he had never succeeded in putting her from his thoughts. Even as he removed more and more of his body in an effort to banish her presence, she remained in his memory. To the present day, he knew where she was.

She had never married, never found another man. Part of him was fiercely glad; she was his, even if he was unwilling to claim her. But the greater part of him was worried for her safety and knew that no woman could ever have a genuine relationship with him due to his obsession with remaking the human body. And so he had arranged for her to be taken in by the Akatsuki should he die. And it was no surprise to him that, as he stood dying, he thought of her as well as his family.

How funny it was that he had spent his entire life asserting his independence, only to think of those he had given himself to in death. As the light faded from his eyes, his last memory was of Omizu, asleep on his chest, her head tucked under his chin and her hair surrounding them in her sweet scent, and the peace he had always felt with her returned to claim him.

xXx

Kisame stood outside the small house in the tiny village in the Land of Fire, and once again cursed Sasori for the burden of escorting some young girl to an Akatsuki safe house. Such places were meant for members only, but refusing Sasori's request wasn't an option, since it had a suggestion back up imprinted in his mind. This was a fact that Kisame didn't appreciate in the least.

He was somewhat curious as to whom the girl was; Sasori had never spoken of her and frankly it was difficult to imagine the Puppet Master having a girlfriend, seeing as how his body was more or less artificial by the end. He had indulged in some affairs that the group knew about but those involved some highly unusual individuals; barely human themselves and really more of an experimentation then anything to do with love. She must have been from his past then; making her more intriguing. Sasori had seemed to cut all ties with his past, yet here one remained.

With a sigh of irritation, he raised his hand and pounded on the front door.

"Just a moment," a woman's voice called out, and he could hear shuffling around in the house before the sound of small steps running to the door.

The female that answered was nothing like he'd expected. Sasori had taken lovers on occasion while he'd been with the Akatsuki and without fail they were very voluptuous, sublimely erotic individuals. This girl was delicate with striking eyes and a demure beauty; the complete opposite of the women Sasori had seemed to favor. Kisame wondered if he had the right house; maybe the woman had moved. It would serve Sasori right for messing with his head.

She had to lean her head back to look up at him; she met his gaze directly, not even flinching at his unusual eyes. He had covered most of his face to hide his features but there was nothing he could do to disguise his eyes. She seemed either not to notice or care that they were white and lacking in normal structure.

"Can I help you," she asked in a curious voice; clearly unafraid even though he towered over her by more then a foot and was over double her mass.

She was either fearless or naïve; it was hard to believe this might be the girl Sasori had cared about enough to see to her welfare from the grave. "I am looking for a woman by the name of Omizu."

She titled her head inquisitively to one side. "Well, you have found her."

Kisame's eyes widened in surprise, he had actually thought there was no way this girl could have belonged to Sasori. He clearly didn't know the Puppet Master as well as he'd thought. It was hard to accept that such a pixie could have held the man's jaded interest.

"Um, well, I was sent on behalf of Sasori of the Red Sand," he began, only to pause when the girl's face drained of color moments before her eyes closed and she dropped to the floor.

Kisame caught her before she hit the ground; he was gifted with incredible speed and years of training had only increased his natural abilities. She weighed practically nothing, he held her easily in his embrace. She smelled of sunshine and spring at close range. Her innocence was palpable; obvious in her serene expression. She clearly knew Sasori if simply hearing his name had made her faint.

He stood awkwardly in the doorway, not sure what to do with the girl. His mission was to bring her to Pein at one of the safe houses. He could just leave with her now, but he suspected Sasori meant for her to start a new life after his death; meaning leaving all of her resources behind might not be a good idea. She would probably need money at the very least.

With a sigh, he walked into the house and closed the door. He had been granted as much time as needed to fulfill the mission; Nagato was under the same geas he was and not happy about it either. Apparently the girl had been very important to Sasori; he'd placed a suggestion to see to her welfare in each member of Akatsuki.

Unfortunately for Kisame, his was slightly more extensive. Perhaps because of his tendency to be loyal, Sasori had also chosen Kisame to act as her guardian in his stead. He had more or less inherited the little baggage. He had been furious about it, but he'd hoped the woman would be modern and vicious like most of Sasori's flings and so he hadn't been too concerned because such a woman wouldn't need his protection really. Now that he'd met Omizu, he was worried as hell.