"Can we win against Orochimaru?"
There is, Kisame considers as he sets down his tea, a fair amount to unpack about that question. "Sure. In an open fight."
Kakashi seems doubtful, which Kisame takes to mean that his last memory of Orochimaru is not his actual last memory of Orochimaru. The Sannin tried to pluck Kakashi's eye out of his head and lost a hand and his place in the organization. He could have been smarter going about it
"And he's on the organization's blacklist?" Kakashi asks.
"What about it?"
"Well," says Kakashi, "don't you think a lot of people would be better off if he dies?"
Objectively true. Kisame doesn't bother arguing. "I don't feel like it right now," he says instead, and eats a mooncake.
"I didn't mean right this second," Kakashi lies, waving a hand vaguely (he's gotten into the habit of wearing the metal-backed gloves preferred primarily by Village-affiliated ninja), "but down the road..."
Kisame would have considered going along, but after Gato he's developed reservations in regards to any mysterious vendettas Kakashi might reveal himself to have. He still has little idea what Wave was about at its heart, and pressing Kakashi for information leads to him clamming up completely. (It was not about money. They came out empty-handed. Kisame proposed raiding the compound, but Kakashi was of the stronger opinion that the country's citizens had the first claim to what Gato stole from them.)
He says, "You don't remember how Orochimaru left the organization, so that's not your issue with him."
Kakashi pauses. "How did he leave?"
Kisame tells him. Kakashi seems astonished that he forced the Sannin to retreat, which... well, apparently in his alternate set of memories he was a rank-and-file jounin. Kisame can't see it, but they're not his delusions.
"If he didn't have Sound," Kisame says, "but hunting down a missing-nin draws a different amount of attention than storming a Hidden Village." Pein wouldn't care for it. Neither would Madara.
"Sometimes it's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission," Kakashi wheedles.
In other words, if Kisame doesn't agree then Kakashi will run off on his own.
Kakashi seems invested in this, however, and it's difficult for Kisame to ignore that it's the most animated he's seen him since they left Wave days ago. If it's what he really wants to do... "When you aren't wearing casts," says Kisame slowly, "let's talk about this again."
Not to discuss whether the swordsman will help him, but to hash out the plan. Kisame's ever been terrible at saying no.
Once upon a time, Kisame was a cornered rat willing to bite his own leg off to escape the trap he could find no way out of. The discovery of his commander's treason became the last impetus he needed. In hindsight he recognizes he found a breaking point and the decisions he made because of it were insanity, but in the moment it seemed, with a brightness and pureness of clarity he has not experienced before or since, like the only reasonable path forwards.
Madara assumes he killed Fuguki out of duty to Kiri and anger at his commander's betrayal. It does sound better put like that, doesn't it?
The truth is that there were too many ways it could have gone sideways, and he knew all of them, considered each in turn, and decided not a single one mattered. Fuguki could have killed him. Samehada could have killed him. Yagura could have killed him – there's always a coin flip's chance of the Mizukage ignoring physical evidence in favor of whatever reality he feels more like living in that minute.
If Madara didn't notice the disturbance and come in person to investigate, Kisame would have ended up in custody and his case routed to the Mizukage through Yagura's aides. If his luck had run poorly and the one to convey the details to Yagura had an investment in Fuguki and less respect for Kisame's significance to Water Country, Kisame would have died for that too. Not many would have argued against it, and none would have done so for his sake. Kiri does not judge kindly those who attack their superiors.
He could have pretended not to have seen, and when Fuguki slipped enough for someone higher-ranked to notice the treason, Kisame would have shared his sentence as an accomplice. He could have reported it, giving Fuguki a chance to hear of his discovery, wipe the evidence, and manage the leak.
Or he could have run. He still turns that thought over sometimes, wondering at it. He could have run.
He couldn't have. But it is a truth that he had little physically stopping him. His feet would have borne his weight. One in front of the other until the mists filled in after him, and he could have run.
(Nobody has asked, and he highly doubts they will, but, on the off chance they do, Kisame has an answer prepared to the question What is it like living in Mist?
It's the second worst day of your life, every day.
He won't say that. The Village raised him, and it was not all terrible. But he'll certainly think it.)
These days, long stretches pass where he forgets what it was like in Yagura's Hidden Mist. Where he can recall the chain of motivations that led over years to his leaving, but divorced of the emotions that lent it context. Time has sanded the memories down to the point it longer cuts him to handle them, so he can't understand anymore the raw edge they used to carry. Maybe his past self had a penchant for melodrama. It was often difficult to think, his mind catching and stalling on nothing, but that could have been his own truancy. Likely was, in part.
Except then he witnesses it from the outside, sees Kakashi retreating for an hour or a day or the rest of his life, and he realizes all over again that, no, it was exactly as bad as his past self thought it was.
It's where his mild obsessiveness for taking care of Samehada stems from. There's never any excuse to treat your weapons that poorly. That goes for Kiri, and for Konoha too. (Since coming to know Kakashi, Kisame's found he can't buy the story that the other shinobi massacred a clan out of a grudge against only its kekkei genkai users. Kakashi's hardly Yagura. Something else happened there.)
It's been years since Kakashi's been as out of it as he becomes in the week following their departure from Wave. He goes about it differently than he used to, more distracted than sullen, although he still doesn't say a word in the two days immediately after. Kisame sticks to yes or no questions when he needs answers. They have a fieldwork language for this, but Kakashi turns out to only remember mission-related terminology, which isn't useful for responding to questions like, say, how much should Kisame read into the fact that Kakashi's eye isn't following the words of his terrible porn even though he turns the pages at appropriate intervals.
Kisame doesn't know what to do with him. His partner's of little help, either, even when he starts talking again. Kakashi comes together enough to warn them off of Konoha shinobi thoroughfares, and he takes an interest when Kisame sets to reteaching him the fieldwork language, but for the most part the swordsman might as well be traveling with a ghost.
It'll pass as soon as Kakashi works out which parts of himself to bury. However, Kisame doesn't much care for the idea of treating people like weather, to be abided. Storms are acts of gods and nothing he can affect, but humans don't exist in isolation from other humans. That's half the trouble.
After they reach the city, eat lunch, and find a room, Kisame volunteers to scope out the local job prospects for missing-nin. "Unless you have objections." Since they're in Fire Country, he'll defer to Kakashi on the level of acceptable risk.
Kakashi pulls the curtains across the window, then doesn't let go of them. It's strange, seeing him still. He used to practice ninjutsu as a matter of course, running through inconspicuous elemental manipulation and chakra control games so habitually it cost him concentration to stop. Even when he wasn't moving his body, he was always doing something with his chakra. Lately he's not practiced with it nearly as often, and when he does he drops it as soon as Kisame notices.
It's not at all bad that he has more control over the habit, which began life as a tic that Kisame got to watch grow way out of proportion.
Kakashi says, "The mission office is hidden in the back of a bar." A delay before he adds, "Konoha knows of it. You're better off dropping the henge once you go in, there's usually a Hyuuga stationed near it. They have the Byakugan."
"Konoha lets it operate?"
"The Village takes a cut of the posting fee, and they know what missions get put up and who accepts them."
"I didn't know one of the Five had that policy." Actually... Iwa, Kumo, and Kiri don't, but maybe Suna. He knows little about Wind Country and its shinobi. The place isn't all desert (although from what he's seen on maps over the years, the amount that is looks to be increasing for some reason), but just the existence of an environment so arid makes his skin crawl.
Kakashi turns to face him and replies, making it sound like a question, "Kiri used to."
Kisame's mood sours immediately, which is always a fun feeling. He's not even sure what caused it. He shrugs it off as well as he can. "Must have been under the Sandaime." Then he pauses with a hand on the door handle. "Are you going to visit anywhere?"
"I'm really not used to so many people anymore."
"We haven't been to a city in a while," Kisame agrees. "Do you want me to look for anything?"
"I'm fine."
He raises an eyebrow. That's quite a big lie for two small words to carry. "I'll try not to take too long."
"Ah – "
Kisame closes the door on him before he can finish saying something like "you can take your time".
It's not that Kisame worries about leaving Kakashi alone –
– no, that's it, actually. It's why Samehada's back inside of the room, too.
He doesn't expect to run into trouble he can't handle without her. When he left Mist, his bounties dropped to pocket change levels. Kiri wants him dead or alive, Bear Country wants him dead, and Suna wants him alive, but Konoha's price on him might as well be their scribbled reminder to themselves that Samehada has a wielder. And as Kiri's not in a position to honor bounties at present, Bear carries no political clout worth courting, and it's plenty obvious both what Suna's angle is and why no other Village is going to help them get their hands on a rapidly renewable water source, Konoha won't try to collect on those either. So long as Kisame's polite, they might let him stay in Fire indefinitely.
Which is convenient, except – Kisame's one of the more dangerous people alive, yet whenever an opponent treats him warily it's nearly guaranteed to be because he's six feet tall with a giant sword and more chakra than a jinchuuriki and not because he's one of Kiri's two S-rank missing-nin. The only hunter-nin he runs into are after Kakashi. He's casually capable of water jutsu on a scale to cause long-term ecological change, he doesn't think it's unrealistic to imagine he could hold his ground against a kage, last week he killed about fifty people, and that's... fine, evidently. No one cares. No one even minds that he looks the way he does. His regular use of henge is to keep from drawing attention to his partner, not himself. Water Country's taught him to expect a certain level of recognition, but mainlanders really, honestly think he comes from a bloodline or something and don't spare it another consideration.
Does Sasori meet people who spot Hiruko's scorpion tail and imagine he was born with it because he comes from a desert?
He stops at a corner store to buy a map, leaves his henge a few streets away, then finds the mission office and claims a posting after it makes him do a double take. Normally he wouldn't, if for no other reason than because anyone willing to pay for a job like that is bound to be a problem client, but it's so weird that it might distract Kakashi for a bit.
The man in question is absent when Kisame returns. Samehada's quiescent, so he takes it in stride. Better than coming back to find that his partner's spent the hour staring into space or pacing the room. Kakashi's changed, but he hasn't miraculously developed the ability to slow his thoughts down enough to get a hobby in edgewise.
Well, he reads. He reads a handful of books on repeat, adding another to the roster once a year or so. If a word exists for that, Kisame's not sure it's hobby.
Kakashi returns before long, dropping in through the window with the henge he entered the city under. "Hey," says Kisame. He's only unusually good at picking up on animal scents, with an emphasis on liquids like blood and sweat and... fluids, so he can't tell where Kakashi's been, but the smell of dust follows him into the room thickly enough that even a human nose can catch it.
"Yo." Kakashi shuts the window and trots over to where Kisame's sitting on a bed with a pen in his hand and the map unfolded across the sheets. Whatever he got up to put him in a decent mood. "A bird crashed into the window and asked for help to a vet's office."
Kisame wonders what kind of bird before the rest of his brain catches and tosses the stray thought. "You got scammed. If a bird was good enough to talk, it was good enough to find a vet on its own."
"It wasn't for her, it was for the eight sick eggs she couldn't carry alone." Kakashi motions for the pen. The swordsman passes it over, and he circles every clinic with chakra healing he knows of that isn't officially labeled. Kisame's marked the ones that are.
"Do you think there are any Konoha doesn't know about?"
"Have to be," says Kakashi. His cocks his head and taps the back of the pen over an untouched section. "There... might be one around here."
"You've been gone for a pretty long time."
The corner of Kakashi's eye creases slightly. For obvious reasons he's touchier about references to his desertion than he used to be, but it was a necessary point to make. "They shouldn't have found out about it."
"Great," says Kisame, who has little reason to doubt him on this. "Can we go now?"
"Ten minutes," Kakashi says after a hesitation.
Kisame laughs. "I don't know what you expected running around with both your legs fractured."
"Rude." Kakashi gingerly takes a seat on the other bed while Kisame putters off to the styrofoam cups stacked beside the kettle. "How was the mission office?"
Kisame conjures water to fill a cup, then turns around so he can see Kakashi's reaction when he says, "Someone paid for an exorcism."
"...What kind of ghost needs a mercenary to handle?"
"They specifically wanted a shinobi." Regular mercenaries don't make the cut.
"The client's going to try to kill us," Kakashi muses, but he doesn't sound very upset about it.
Grinning, Kisame hands him the water. "Maybe. We're meant to meet them at an address near the docks any reasonable time after six."
"Clones go in first."
He couldn't have been this paranoid in Wave? "Mm."
"So," says Kakashi conversationally, "why did you accept this one? There had to be other options."
"Are you really saying you'd have preferred a bodyguard job over the exorcism?"
Kakashi blinks. "I was asking about you."
...His memories aren't consistent, Kisame reminds himself. He's going to be like this sometimes. Often. It took about a year after they met for the Konoha-nin to drop the nostalgically Kiri mentality of everyone else is only looking after themselves, or at least for Kisame to notice that he dropped it, and by that metric Kakashi-who's-still-loyal-to-Konoha (a development Kisame should have reported to the higher-ups, but he keeps forgetting and they haven't asked, oh well) has warmed up to the swordsman remarkably quickly. "And I," he replies, "was thinking about you."
"...Ah." Voices in the hallway outside, followed by the thud of a door. Kakashi sighs, then says sunnily, "Anyway – "
Kakashi's genjutsu only work against civilians and highly distracted ninja. Fortunately, he doesn't need more skill than that to convince the back-alley doctor to picture someone else's face when they look at him. The quote makes Kisame wince despite not being the one paying, but it'd be several times as much if they knew who they were treating and factored in hush money.
Kakashi argues them down to a fifth. He'll need three visits spread across two weeks, and for each visit the doctor would have had to clear out the day since their limited chakra reserves would go to healing Kakashi, but if Kakashi (or Samehada bribed with takoyaki and under a genjutsu) transfers chakra afterwards to replenish what they spend then it renders the issue moot and there's little reason to place the cost that high.
Midway through the discussion, Kisame's ring finger stings. He excuses himself to look for a quiet place. The doctor doesn't have a public bathroom, so Kisame borrows an apartment, bars the front door, and swipes a patch of floor clean with his foot – he took off his shoes at the entrance, he's not a barbarian – before sitting cross-legged. He clears his thoughts and directs chakra into the ring, concentrating on the link.
"Here."
Pein's voice responds a second later. "Is Kakashi there?"
"He's occupied. But he can hear you." Not unconscious, in other words.
"That's acceptable. Are you near Fire Country right now?"
"It's not the best time for a mission," Kisame says. "The last one got... ah, hairy. Kakashi-san's recovering."
"That was the one in Wave Country. The client broke contract."
The mercenaries Kisame left alive spread the story. The right version of it, too. "And now he's dead. Did you hear what that country named their bridge, by the way?"
"...How did Kakashi take injury?"
(Kisame wouldn't have minded hearing Pein utter the words "The Great Springtime Bridge of Youth" – with a capitalized the – but he'll settle for inducing an uncomfortable pause.)
Who actually knows, he doesn't respond with. "Konoha had a team protecting the target. Their commander was more of a problem than anticipated."
Pein sighs. Half the Elemental Nations know how weird Kakashi gets about Konoha. Kisame doesn't understand it either, though he imagines he could if he tries.
"Give us two weeks first."
"Don't delay too much. The assignment isn't time-sensitive, but it will grow harder as the trail runs cold."
A window slides open in another room, and he reaches for his sword before Kakashi's voice says, "Don't mind me, Kisame."
Pein's still speaking. "Consider it a long-term mission. The Rokubi's jinchuuriki has defected from Mist and fled the country."
Kisame nearly loses focus on the communication jutsu. "Utakata has?"
"Will your familiarity get in the way?"
"No. He's not – no, it won't." He frowns. "Didn't think he had it in him." And Kisame's grown soft if it earned a reaction. They've never talked.
"Keep track of his whereabouts."
"Understood. ...You wouldn't happen to know the status of Kiri jounin Harusame? His master."
"The jinchuuriki killed him."
Well. "Good for him." Harusame probably had it coming.
When Pein cuts the technique Kisame stays seated. Utakata really chose quite a time to leave, didn't he.
Kisame holds no opinion on Water's ongoing civil war. It's not that he doesn't care about the conflict, or that he believes one Mizukage will be the same as any other – Yagura is not a continuation of the Sandaime, and he's as aware as it's possible to be that Terumi Mei, should her faction win, will not be one for Yagura either. No, there's nothing so sensible as a reason for his ambivalence. He simply doesn't have an opinion on the bloody upheaval splitting the country that owned him for twenty years, the outcome of which will reform Water regardless of who loses.
More topics he has no stance on: that by practical definitions he still works for a Mizukage; that Madara bears his share of responsibility for the results of Yagura's madness; that a former Konoha-nin has spent half of Kisame's life running Kiri into the ground.
No need to jeopardize his current state of existence getting caught up in right or wrong. There are other hills to die on.
Nonetheless, with the Rokubi removed from action the war's swung that much further in Mei's favor. Madara might know how Yagura's holding up under the development, though Kisame more than likely won't have a chance to ask. He hasn't heard from the Uchiha since Kakashi joined the organization.
Not that Kisame should care. Yagura doesn't command his allegiance anymore, though he still –
It doesn't matter. He huffs, sets a hand on the floor, and pushes himself to his feet. He finds Kakashi sat waiting on a nightstand, hands clasped and elbows on his thighs. The man straightens when Kisame crosses through the doorway and says, "You're alright with the Rokubi as our assignment?"
"Wouldn't I be?" Kakashi doesn't say anything, and after a moment Kisame adds, "He's not an ally anymore, we're all missing-nin here. You don't want dinner, right?"
"Nah."
"Come watch me eat," Kisame says.
Kakashi apparently has nothing better to do and goes with him. He settles on a soba stand since he doesn't need to worry about finding foods Kakashi can quickly get past a mask – even when the man's under a transformation and no one can see his face, he still prefers those – but a few bites in he pauses and considers the noodles between his raised chopsticks. The last time he had soba was New Year's Eve, and that was, what, four months ago? "Kakashi-san, what's the date?"
Kakashi glances over. "Twenty-third."
Five days since the eighteenth. Water Country doesn't place significance on individual birthdays; everyone ages up with the new year. Kisame doesn't pay much mind to his either, but right then it reminds him of how old he is compared to the rest of his profession. Most of the people he's known didn't make it through their mid-twenties. He might not have either if he didn't leave the Village. "Ah, it's nothing," he says to Kakashi's unspoken question. Without a miracle, his graduating class certainly lost another few of their number in the past year, especially with the war.
Maybe next March will see a Godaime reigning in Kiri. Or not. It's all out of his hands, although for choice (or something like it) rather than lack of ability.
Kakashi doesn't comment when Kisame orders sake, though he makes the faint noise in his throat of words abandoned unvoiced. Kisame brings the warm cup close enough to catch the scent on every inhale, then finishes the meal and pays without having touched it again. Stupid to drink before work.
They head to the docks address afterwards. "Well, that's not an empty warehouse," Kakashi murmurs when they find it. On the outside it's a perfectly normal residence, if somewhat larger than its immediate neighbors, and what they can glimpse of the interior through the windows doesn't contradict that.
Kisame still doesn't think they need to send in clones, but he can't argue with Kakashi that it's less risky. Shadow clones it is.
The couple who live at the house greet them warily, but politely enough despite that and the constant glances towards their transformations' slashed Kiri headbands. The caution fades as they explain their problem and remember that there's something else in the house they're more nervous about than foreign criminals.
"At night we hear it moving through the walls," the wife says, "and in the morning there's food missing in pieces from our pantry." Bags hang heavy under her eyes and she visibly stops herself from jumping whenever something creaks in another room.
"You're sure it's not mice?" Kakashi says.
She pulls herself up and sweeps an arm towards a wall by the entrance significantly cleaner than any other part of the house. "And every morning we wake up and there are glyphs written on this wall."
"Huh," says Kakashi, which covers Kisame's thoughts just as well.
"Seems like you'd do better with a priest," Kisame says.
The husband replies, "We did invite one. He said we should get a shinobi instead."
"...Did he say why?" Kisame asks.
The husband ages ten years with his next words. "He said he didn't know what it was, but it couldn't be a ghost. When we asked him what it could be, he told us we should burn the house, salt the earth, and hope for the best, but that if we couldn't do that he'd keep us in his prayers."
Kisame blinks, then casts another look around with new eyes, half-expecting black blood to start oozing from the ceiling. He's a little disappointed when it doesn't.
"So this has been happening to you for a month," Kakashi says, "and only at night."
Both of them nod.
He shrugs. "We can stay overnight and see what we find."
"Those glyphs," Kisame says, because they're the only major oddity here, "they aren't words?"
"Not from any human language," the wife says darkly.
The husband wrings his hands. "They're always the same shapes. We think it's a curse."
"Can you draw them?"
The wife gasps, and the husband says, "Draw a curse?"
Kakashi asks, "What are they written in?"
"Blood," says the husband.
"Sometimes wet flour," the wife adds.
Kakashi hums, ambling over to the wall in question. "That helps." He crouches and sets his palms on the floor, and in a puff of smoke Pakkun appears.
The pug raises a paw. "Yo, boss, boss's friend."
"Did that dog talk?" the husband says.
"He's a summon," Kisame replies while Kakashi updates the dog on the situation. Pakkun's brow climbs higher with every word. "Don't worry about it."
Pakkun nods when Kakashi finishes and steps onto the wall to sniff it over. "Ninja trick," Kisame narrates to the clients before they can make a fuss. Wall-walking is one of the simpler and more practical chakra techniques and therefore common in several other professions as well, but that would take more than two syllables to explain.
A few minutes later Pakkun raises his head. "Got it. It starts here – " He taps the paint, then traces his front paw along the wall as he walks across it.
If it actually turns out to be a curse that's not a seal Kisame's not sure what they'll do – they don't have Hidan as the resident expert to consult, which might honestly be for the best – but instead he recognizes the shapes halfway through. He keeps quiet until Pakkun finishes in case they turn out different than he expects. When the pug steps back, though, he says, "It's Kiri ANBU code."
"It's a ninja ghost?" the wife whispers.
"A Kiri ANBU ninja ghost," Kakashi corrects, ever helpful. At Kisame he signs, "Report."
The code's not sensitive information. Literally it means supplies received, though the flourishes tip the sentiment closer to: "'Thanks for the meal.'"
"Oh," the husband says faintly.
"You also have a rodent problem," Pakkun adds. "Was that all?"
"Yeah. Thanks," says his summoner, and Pakkun dismisses himself in another cloud of chakra smoke.
Once the sun sets, the clients have bundled off to the bedroom and the safety of a locked door, and the clones have switched out for the originals and transferred their memories, Kakashi asks, "Does Kiri hold a rodent contract?"
Kisame nods. He doesn't volunteer details, and Kakashi doesn't ask. Though, to be fair, Kisame doesn't know much either, only that a low-caste tokubetsu jounin carries the primary mouse contract.
"You think you can negotiate with them?" Kakashi asks.
"We'll see. Better chances if it's the summon without the summoner. They're acting like they're stranded."
Kakashi sighs, then says with muted amusement, "Two of these missions in a row."
"Are you really comparing this to the last one?"
"Just wait. It can get worse."
"It's going to if you say things like that." Kakashi smiles, and Kisame startles with, "Hey, don't – "
Kakashi says, "What's the worst that could – "
He lets the sentence hang. Kisame waits a few seconds, Samehada halfway out of her holster, but Kakashi doesn't continue. Eventually the swordsman snorts a laugh and drops the weapon.
He takes first watch. It's largely a formality since neither of them intends to fall asleep, but it means Kisame rather than Kakashi responds when partway through the night the kitchen door swings open a bare sliver. Kakashi hangs back while Kisame stops in front of the doorway.
They both released their henge when the clients left since keeping even the simplest jutsu active for hours at a time strains one's chakra coils, but if that wasn't the case then he would still cancel it now. If the mice have circulated their contract in Water Country for longer than a generation, they'll recognize him even if they don't know Kisame specifically.
He knocks on the door frame. "Summon-san. Will you come out?"
After a long, long silence, a surprisingly deep voice says in one of the thickest western Water accents he's heard, "Affiliation?" It sounds from waist level somewhere in the darkness of the kitchen.
"None."
"None, you can't have none – "
Kisame nudges the door open. Nothing sits by the sink where the voice spoke from, and he doesn't spot them elsewhere on the counter. Ninja have a good sense for when they're being watched, but he can't feel a presence from that avenue either. "The people living here are paying me to deal with whatever's drawing on the wall. This is not about Kiri."
Movement from the sink, a small dark shape peeking around a bottle of soap. "Kisame-dono?"
"Hello," he says, showing teeth.
The mouse toddles into view, leaning on a rubber band-wrapped bundle of toothpicks with the points cut flat. "I – um." They bow low, grip trembling on the walking stick. "Sorry, my manners – this humble one is Nezuki. Female, if you have trouble telling. I didn't expect to see you." She straightens. "Would you like a contract?"
"No."
"Ouch," she mutters.
"You're stranded, aren't you?"
Her whiskers quiver. "The Mizukage killed our summoner and burned our scroll, that absolute piece of – "
"Don't do that," says Kisame mildly. "He's still the Yondaime."
Nezuki subsides, though with a squeak and raised hackles. "I'd have caught a ship back to Water by now, but I got injured on the way out and it hasn't healed properly." She pats her right leg. "I could still move it at first."
Kisame didn't ask, but sure, now he knows. "Are you trying to tell me to smuggle you onto a ship?"
"Ships have cats. And rats."
"Then terrorize the neighbors instead if you can't leave."
She freezes, wide-eyed, then says, sounding a bit lost, "But."
Kisame raises an eyebrow, though she might not see it in the dark. She doesn't back away as he walks over, only turns her head to follow his arm as he reaches over her to unlatch the window.
"Just like that?" she murmurs.
"Yeah." He slides the pane up.
"Kisame-dono, I need a shinobi who can reforge our scroll and won't dishonor our previous summoners' names. The mouse contract belongs in Water. Please, if you have any lingering affection for your country..."
Did she just appeal to a deserter's patriotism? He eyes her, lips peeling back in a partial grimace. "What do you mean, it belongs in Water?"
"Two hundred years the Inugaya family have been bonded to us," she says, quiet but steely, "though that name means nothing to this generation, doesn't it? In western Water, there's a place I won't tell you how to find where our realm crosses into yours. The Shodaime sealed it when the Inugaya fell to him, but it ties us there. Water is our country, too."
It isn't mine, Kisame imagines saying, but he doesn't move at all.
"I don't know why you left. I don't know the reasons why most people leave. It's not like the Mizukage asks us and publishes the answers. But if our contract's time on this plane ends now, like this, that's one more clan he has struck from the world, another piece of history severed and forgotten without a soul left to avenge it. That must be worth something to you. Please."
His hands balled into fists while he wasn't paying attention. He loosens them. "Not everything's worth remembering."
"But must it be like this?" Nezuki asks. "Yagura is a vulture stripping us down to our bones. If we let him finish, no one will even remember the shape our skeleton took."
Kisame looks at her. The dim light from outside glows silver on the edge of the sink, and a trace of cigarette smoke wafts in on the night breeze, and between them the silence rings. He would have preferred the ghost he was hired for.
He huffs, and it graduates into a chuckle. "Kakashi-san, you jinxed us," he says.
A quiet "Whoops" drifts in from the living room, almost sincere.
"Only until I make you someone else's problem," Kisame tells Nezuki, his grin a shark's grin. She shifts her walking stick to a front grip with both hands and nods as solemnly as a mouse who's clearly half a second away from cheering can.
