I should have killed Kisame that night. I should have just abandoned the plan in its entirety and murdered the shark in cold blood. Perhaps then, what followed would never have occurred.
To begin with, I was outraged by the shark's actions. Half-asleep or not, he bodily assaulted me and pinned me against his chest, as if I were but a child he was attempting to control. He refused to release me, even when I specifically ordered him to do so. Despite how warm and firm his chest felt against my body, this was still unforgivable.
It was no surprise then, that when the morning came and I awoke from the best sleep I'd had in a good long while, I held the shark at knifepoint against our headboard and warned him that should he ever pull a stunt like that again, I was going to brutally murder him slowly and painfully. He nodded, his fear clearly returning, and I let him go. We packed our things and then left.
Before we go on, I wish to elaborate on exactly why I was so terribly angered against my partner. It wasn't simply because he'd invaded my personal space, or that he'd seen fit to disobey a direct order. No, my rage stemmed from the fact that Kisame had acted out in a caring matter of his own consent. How dare he?!
Of all the outrageous things for him to do…holding me?! I had not prompted him to act in that way, I'd given no hints that the plan was ready for him to approach me in such a manner, so what was he thinking? And that was when I came to a terrible conclusion. Kisame had developed an attachment to me, and was acting upon it out of his own free will.
How in Kami's name could I have let this happen? After I had that dreadful epiphany, I knew that the only viable solution was to completely and totally terminate my plan, before any other unforeseen disasters could occur.
This was easier said than done.
Somehow, my partner had kept his blasted guilt in his heart even after becoming a murderer, and did everything in his power to make amends with me for his hasty actions. Countless rebuffs and cruel looks did little to curb his desire to fix the situation, and I was beginning to think that plan abandonment was a lost cause. The breaking point came one night at a hotel room.
The two of us had been caught in a windstorm, which had managed to bring my anger to a raging tempest. I was now covered in dirt and grit, my hair was a disaster, and Kisame was asking me every five minutes if I wanted to stop. Finally, I could endure no more and directed the two of us towards a small inn at the edge of town. At the very least, I could quiet my partner's incessant worrying.
We were quick to check in at the front desk and secure a small room with a queen sized bed. This little problem added to my anger; since the incident, I'd made specific arrangements to get us separate rooms, or rooms with two beds. I decided not to press the matter, though. Kisame could sleep on the floor.
My bag soon found itself on the floor at the foot of our bed, and I was standing in the bathroom assessing the damage the storm had done. Aside from the fact that I looked like a street urchin, it wasn't too terrible.
A quick bath took care of most of the filth, but my hair was another matter altogether. Neither fine-toothed pick nor my fingers could coax the knots loose from it post shower, and I was getting more than a bit annoyed. A more accurate statement, though, would be that I was ready to set fire to our hotel and slaughter all the inhabitants currently residing within its walls. This was beyond frustrating.
And Kisame was not helping my dilemma. If anything, the blasted shark was only making matters that much worse for me. When he saw me emerge from the bathroom in my rather frenzied state, the first thing he did was rise from his seat on the foot of our mattress and inquire if I needed any help.
I was so close to killing him at that moment. But I managed to reign myself in, and shook my head no. I then seated myself in front of the large mirror our room possessed, and attempted to work the knots out once more. It was all for naught; my hair seemed determined to fight my comb to the bitter end.
Just as I was about to incinerate the uncooperative locks with Amaterasu, Kisame plucked the comb from my fingers and slowly began untangling the locks, as if it were but child's play to him.
Never had I been more irate than I was at that moment in time.
Growling, I nonetheless allowed Kisame to brush out my hair. "Don't think this means you're forgiven," I cautioned him.
"I wasn't expecting forgiveness," was his reply. I could have rolled my eyes at the words. Of course.
I sat there, staring blankly at my own reflection as Kisame's fingers danced through my locks. So, this was what I'd become. A frustrated child with social issues that needed assistance brushing his own hair. How very pathetic.
I continued to lock gazes with my own image, staring at the glass as my distress grew and grew, until at length I could take it no longer. Not even breaking my gaze with the reflection, I snapped my arm up and grabbed hold of Kisame's wrist. "I can get the rest."
"…Do you want to?"
To say that Kisame's inquiry caught me off guard would be a gross understatement. I had expected him to willingly concede and return my comb to me; if not, then perhaps a moment of hesitation and a reluctant "All right." But to question my actions…
The most amazing thing was, I actually thought about his question. To my astonishment, the answer was no. No, I did not want him to let go. No, I did not want to lose the feeling of his fingertips pressing lightly against my scalp whilst his hands smoothed out the imperfections of my hair. No, I did not want to have the contact between us vanish.
I released my grip on his hand, and a moment later he was back to detangling my hair.
My reflection once again occupied my attention, and now I was forced to ponder not his actions as of late, but my own. Why had I not broken away from him, when for weeks all I had longed for was a reprieve from him? No answer presented itself before Kisame lay aside my comb and pronounced my locks tangle free.
Satisfied with his job, I rose from my perch and made my way to our shared bed. A break from staring at myself in the mirror and tiring myself out over pointless musings would do me a bit of good.
He agreed to take the first watch, and for that I was grateful. Or at least I would have been, if I had been able to sleep while my partner was on guard. My blasted mind could not be soothed, and I knew of no way to prompt sleep to come forth. Minus one option that didn't seem terribly feasible at the moment.
Time passed, and still insomnia possessed me. Finally, I could take it no longer. I had to ask for his help. I took a moment to gather myself up, before looking up at Kisame and speaking his name.
He looked down at me, clearly awaiting the rest of whatever it was that I was trying to say. But the words died on my lips, and I knew that after everything that had transpired, I simply couldn't ask that of him. My gaze slipped away from his, and glued itself to my pillow. This was truly my saddest moment.
Yet that was not the end. Perhaps our years of little to no conversation had taught Kisame to read my body language rather than my lips if he wished to know what I was attempting to tell him. I felt a warm, calloused hand settle on the crown of my head, before slowly massaging circles into my hair. It was a start, but not quite enough for me on this night.
The shark quickly picked up on this fact, much to my relief. I shudder at the thought of what would have happened if I had actually needed to speak up and inform Kisame of what I needed.
Slowly, he lifted me up off my pillow and transferred my head into his lap. The covers were readjusted, his position shifted a bit, and soon enough he was back to relaxing me.
I realized then something that should have occurred to me long ago. I was being drawn in by this shark. Years of isolation and neglect hadn't hardened my heart; rather, they had made it a prime target for any and all signs of caring or affection. Unable to process at the time whether this was a good or a bad thing for my overall plan, I slipped into a dreamless slumber.