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Kisame spotted the kunoichi clear across the river. It wasn’t hard with her bright pink hair and flagrantly displayed chakra signature. The poor wretch hadn’t even bothered to hide it.

She was knee-deep in the water, skimming the top of it to collect algae in a little mesh bag. Kisame watched her for a while, curious about her little plant collecting endeavor. She really shouldn’t be so close to the Rain border right now, even if she was still on Konoha’s side. If she only knew the danger that lurked just on the other side of the riverbank, she’d have been long gone.

He almost felt sorry for her. A storm was approaching from the west – he could smell it. She would never make it back to her village in time, and whatever algae she had managed to harvest would be ruined.

A peal of thunder rang out in the distance, and the girl lifted her head to gaze up at the sky. Kisame was startled by how bright her eyes seemed, even at this distance. They were so green, but not like the forest behind her. More like sea glass. Like a mermaid, he thought.

Lightning struck somewhere closer by and the sky flashed with blinding light, followed quickly by thunder so loud that it rattled Kisame’s teeth. He saw the girl flinch and twisted his lips with amusement.

Of course a Konoha-nin would be afraid of a little rain.

It began to fall, a light sprinkle at first, but it was hardly a minute before it was pounding against the earth in thick sheets. Kisame had always been a fan of the rain, or water in general, naturally. It beaded up and rolled off his skin in a pleasant sort of way, but he imagined that for the poor kunoichi it was sharp and cold.

He watched her for a minute more, his massive grey form hidden by the thick mist that was roiling across the river. She had packed her little mesh bag safely inside the pack on her back and waded out of the river, but it wouldn’t help her now. The storm was upon her and there was nothing she could do about it.

Another bolt of lightning struck, this time even closer. In fact, it struck a tree nearby, splitting it in half and knocking it down directly in the kunoichi’s path. She shrieked so loudly that it echoed all the way across the river to him. Kisame shook his head with disdain.

Some kunoichi.

He should be heading back to Rain now, to the Akatsuki base, to his partner Itachi. He had only come out for a walk, for a chance to linger in the river. It was the closest he could get to the sea, even though it was hardly the same.

But something about the girl was drawing him in. She was like prey – so weak, so stupid, so oblivious to him as he lurked behind her.

Kisame didn’t eat people, but he wondered what she would taste like if he sunk his teeth into her flesh.

Before he could decide whether that was something he was interested in discovering, the winds began to pick up. They whipped rain through the air like little scythes – cold needles that pricked at his face. The little kunoichi struggled to remain upright in the harsh breeze, and Kisame felt something tug at his heartstrings when she stumbled and her knees sunk down into the mud.

The nearest inn was several miles away – Konoha even farther. If she couldn’t even manage to stand up, there was no way she’d be able to find shelter.

Cursing himself for his newfound softness, Kisame launched himself through the mist and began to cross the river. It wasn’t often that he found himself feeling pity – certainly not for an enemy kunoichi.

She hadn’t managed to pick herself up by the time Kisame had made it over to her. In fact, she had her head tucked down as if she were resigned to the fact that she’d be waiting out the storm from the comfort of the muddy puddle she found herself in. Only once she heard the intentional squelching of Kisame’s footsteps did she look up at him.

Her eyes, so pretty and green and practically glowing in the dusky greyness of the early evening, darted to his. He saw panic sweep across her features before they hardened into something violent and angry. Kisame felt a tingling in his spine – the anticipation of battle.

Except he wasn’t really looking for a fight – not one he would be so certain to win. She didn’t stand a chance against him in this storm, so close to the river. She would be foolish to even try.

Eyes blazing, she opened her mouth to speak. Realizing that he wouldn’t be able to hear her properly over the torrential rain and rushing river, Kisame shook his head and extended a hand to her before she could say a word.

Her gaze, ever dubious, lifted to just above his shoulder where he knew she could see Samehada slung across his back. In truth, he was delighted by her appropriate fear of him. At least she understood that he was a formidable opponent and that she was, in fact, in danger while in his presence.

But it was counterproductive to his goal now, and knowing that it would take far too much time and effort to convince her that he meant no harm (for now), Kisame simply reached down, grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up into his arms.

She shrieked again, the sound muffled by his chest. Kisame rolled his eyes, cradling her wet, shivering body against his. She was so impossibly tiny he had no trouble believing she’d be blown over by a strong gust of wind.

When he felt her amassing chakra, he tightened his grip on her. He tried to remember what he knew of her fighting skills, but for some reason she didn’t seem to stick in his memory.

“Don’t do something foolish, kunoichi,” he warned, bring his mouth down close to her ear so she could hear him. “You’re a long way from home.” A violent shiver wracked her body.

Her chakra dissipated, his warning heeded. Kisame couldn’t exactly let his guard down yet. Just because she realized she couldn’t fight him didn’t mean she had no other tricks up her sleeve. In fact, Kisame mused that perhaps this had been a mistake and he shouldn’t have bothered to save a kunoichi in distress – no matter how pretty and pink she was.

Ignoring all the better instincts in his body, Kisame clutched at her lithe form a little tighter and then took off for the trees.

He knew there were no caves nearby, no homes or other kinds of structures to take shelter in. Their only reprieve from the rain would have to be the thick canopy of trees above. The trees were thickest in the center of the wood, so Kisame made a beeline for the densest, darkest part of the wood he knew.

The girl, a tense ball of damp nerves in his arms, tucked herself against him rather intimately, much to Kisame’s surprise. He could feel the sharp chill of her cold nose pressed into his chest, her breath hot against his skin.

Rain continued to pour from the sky, though it trickled more slowly as he made his way deeper into the wood. It had been a long time since Kisame had weathered a storm so intense. Even in the thickest tree cover, rain still found its way down to the earth.

When he’d come to a large oak tree with a massive crown of leaves to hold back the deluge of rain above, Kisame leapt up to its biggest branch and lowered the kunoichi to her feet.

She immediately backed away from him, hugging her back to the tree’s massive trunk. “What do you want with me?” she demanded harshly, though her voice trembled with nerves and the icy chill in the air.

Kisame brought his hand up to the tree trunk, pressing his palm to the bark just above her shoulder. The tips of her damp hair tickled his wrist, but she didn’t shrink away from him in spite of his rather ominous looming.

“What were you doing down by my river?” he asked, his gaze lingering on her pack where he knew she had that little mesh pouch of algae stowed away.

“Your river?” she asked incredulously. “Since when do you own the river?”

Amused by her sass, Kisame leaned down closer to her so he could get a better look at those eyes. She really was a pretty little thing – skin like marble, eyes like glowing green stars. Her pink mouth was pulled into an annoyed pout.

“Since I kill anyone who gets too close,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. It wasn’t exactly true. No, of course he didn’t own the river, and he didn’t make a habit of killing anyone who got too close to it.

But the fact of the matter was that she was too close to it. Too close to Akatsuki’s base, too close to inadvertently drowning herself in the river’s strong tow.

She seemed to cower appropriately at his loose threat, shaking like a leaf as she pressed herself closer to the tree trunk.

“What’s with the algae, huh?” he asked, poking her pack with his finger. “Is it really worth all the danger you put yourself in to get it?”

Her face paled and she pushed her pack further behind her back, squeezing it between her body and the tree trunk. “It only grows in this region,” she said defensively. “Believe me, I’d much rather not have had to travel all the way to your river to get it.”

“So you’re not going to tell me why you wanted it so badly?”

“Bite me,” she snapped, and Kisame grinned at her, displaying all of the rows of pointed teeth with which he could bite her.

“Tell me where.”

She glared at him, but he could see that now her posture was laced with an undercurrent of a very real fear. She wasn’t wrong to feel it, of course, but Kisame had no intention of hurting her – not here like this. He had no personal grudge against her, and whatever she wanted with that damn algae was really none of his concern.

“Release me,” she demanded, squaring her shoulders toward him with bravado.

“You’re not my prisoner, kunoichi,” he said. “Just stay away from the river.”

Her gaze became instantly suspicious, roving over Kisame in a way that sent a shiver down his spine. “Why should I stay away from the river?” she asked.

It occurred to him that he might have just accidentally given away his own secret. He couldn’t let her believe the Akatsuki base was nearby.

“Because I said so,” he snapped.

She was rolling her eyes before he’d finished the sentence. He opened his mouth to give another retort when another crash of thunder shook the earth. It echoed through the woods, muted only by the roar of rain underneath. The kunoichi shrunk back closer to his side, glancing up at the layer of leafy branches above with new trepidation.

“Really?” he asked dryly. “Afraid of a little thunder?”

Her gaze floated down from the leaves above to Kisame. Their eyes locked. He couldn’t quite interpret the firm set of her jaw. Her eyes seemed to drill into his, not unpleasantly so, but in a way that certainly made Kisame feel a little unsettled.

“I’ve never heard thunder so loud before,” she confessed.

The absurdity of it all made Kisame bellow with laughter. Was this pink-haired, scared-of-thunder, waif of a girl really supposed to be a kunoichi?

“Don’t laugh at me, you fucking prick.” She gripped his forearm tightly, squeezing it until he was sure that she was using some kind of jutsu because there was no way she was really that strong.

He laughed again, amused by her unexpected fire. Kunoichi or not, she had a lot of nerve to insult him right to his face like that. Something long dormant stirred in Kisame’s gut. He felt his chest loosen a little, and he found his gaze softening when it resettled on the girl.

Until he felt a sharp pain radiate through his entire arm. He yelped and jerked his arm away from her, inspecting it for any permanent damage she may have done.

“You little bitch.”

She lunged for him again, but this time Kisame caught her arm. “Don’t call me that,” she hissed.

Thoroughly annoyed, Kisame shoved her off the branch. He heard her soft grunt as she hit the ground and peered down below to see that she had at least managed to land on her feet. “Don’t call me a fucking prick,” he called down to her.

With a heavy thud, he landed in the damp grass beside her. Farther away from the tree’s center, more rain trickled down through the leaves. There was no way to avoid getting wet, but at least they were out of the brunt of it.

The girl glared at him as he dusted off his pants and then straightened his back so that he could loom over her a little threateningly. “I trust you can find your way home from here, kunoichi,” he said, glad, but also not, to be rid of her. It was really better if she moved as far away from the border as possible.

She, too, seemed to be thinking about the border and the river. Her mesmerizing eyes drifted in that direction, her lower lip pulled pensively between her teeth.

“Trust me, girl,” he said, his tone a little more serious now. “That algae ain’t worth your life.”

At that she laughed, the sound derisive yet somehow charming. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all day,” she said, her smile weirdly infectious. Kisame felt a little dumbfounded, though he was amused nonetheless.

“Alright, fishboy, supposing I need somewhere to wait out the storm, where might I go?” she asked, her hands poised cockily on her hips while she awaited her answer.

Kisame felt a string pull taut every nerve in his body – a response he wasn’t quite sure of. He was sort of itching to fight her, but he also kind of wanted to lift her back up into his arms again and press her pretty face back into his chest.

“First of all,” he said, taking a step toward her to close the distance between them. “Don’t ever call me that again.” To punctuate his threat, Kisame bent down and lowered his face to hers so that he could fix her with his sternest glare. “Second,” he continued once she was looking less haughty and more timid, “you’re shit out of luck, little girl. You’re about ten miles from the nearest inn.”

She groaned and wiped dramatically at her brow. Her bangs were plastered wet around her face and both his and her clothes were soaked all the way through. Kisame couldn’t help his continued pity for her. At least he would have a warm, dry bed tonight. Even if she managed to get to the inn, she wouldn’t necessarily be safe there. She was in the heart of enemy territory, though she didn’t seem to realize.

“Very well,” she said, schooling her expression into something more determined, if a little begrudging. “Point me in the right direction.”

“You can’t be serious,” Kisame said. “You’re fine here in the woods, but you couldn’t even stand up out there in the wind. Do you know how bad this storm is going to be?”

“Going to be?” she shrieked.

Kisame sniffed the air, catching the scent on the breeze, the cold snap in the air. He could sense the brewing winds, the howling currents of air that threatened to uproot trees and rip up anything else that may be in their path.

He glanced down at the tiny little kunoichi.

“Yeah, you’re not going anywhere, little girl.”

“My name is Sakura,” she snapped, ignoring him when his gaze flicked between her eyes and her hair, “and what would you suggest I do?”

“I’d have advised you to stay away from the river in the first place,” he said. “And I guess if you want some more practical advice to apply to the future, I’d suggest brushing up on meteorology so that you don’t find yourself in this predicament again, Sakura.”

Her eyes narrowed on him and he feared that he was beginning to enjoy her company.

“How long will the storm last, meteorologist-san?”

He cracked a grin at her teasing. “Five, maybe six hours.”

“Six hours?” she asked incredulously. She groaned again, glancing around the densely scattered trees. Kisame surmised that she was just now realizing exactly how much danger she was in. Her eyes darted frantically around the wood. He could feel her chakra ebbing and flowing with growing panic.

It must have been terrifying for her, he realized. She was essentially trapped here in the wood until the storm cleared, and the woods weren’t exactly safe. He imagined his presence might have also had something to do with her fear.

“Ah, don’t be scared now, little girl,” he said, though it was immediately clear that his tone was not as placating as he intended. Sakura’s face darkened with rage, her cheeks blooming with splotches of red.

“I am not a little girl,” she said, stomping her foot much like a little girl would.

Kisame grinned and clapped his palm over the top of her little pink head. Sakura did not resist him when he pulled her closer, measuring her height against his. The rise of panic in her was nearly missed – she maintained her rigid stance, but the spread of goosebumps along her shoulders, neck, and arms gave her away. He could even feel them prickling underneath his palm on the top of her head.

The impossibly tiny thing barely came up to his waist. Gently, he pushed her back a step, holding his hand where the crown of her head had been against his torso. “Oh, you’re very little,” he politely disagreed. “It’s kind of cute.”

Her expression faltered, her gaze hopelessly confused when it settled back on his face. “What do you want with me?” she asked again, her tone suspicious and cautious. The implication made Kisame bristle.

“I wanted to save you,” he snapped. “What kind of man would I be if I had just left you there?”

“You’re Akatsuki!” she exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at his chest.

It took a lot of self-restraint not to grab that finger and snap it in half. “So I guess that makes me a heartless monster, huh?”

She withered at little at that, her gaze softening on him. Kisame felt the sudden need to straighten his spine, unnerved by the sudden tenderness with which she looked at him.

“Well, you definitely look like one,” she said, her tone cautious, but a little teasing. “But I suppose you can’t be all bad. You did save me, after all. I hear you’re in the habit of killing most people who get close to the river, so I guess I owe you one for sparing me.”

He decided to ignore the bit about looking like a monster. He was used to comments on his appearance – they rolled off him like the rain did now. Except there was something about this girl, her femininity, pinkness, her waifish figure and glittering eyes. He didn’t mind when others thought of him as a monster. That was just to be expected.

But he didn’t want Sakura to think of him like that.

“And here I thought you Konoha-nins all had a smug sense of moral superiority,” he said instead, pleasantly surprised by her peaceable conclusion.

“I’m sure you’ve done enough evil that my hatred for Akatsuki and everything they stand for isn’t completely unwarranted,” she said, her eyes piercing and heated, boring holes into his. He repressed the shiver that threatened to roll down his spine, unsettled by how penetrating her gaze was.

Kisame glared down at her, unsure of how to explain that he wasn’t a bad guy or a terrorist. He didn’t have any grand plans of villainy with which he intended to haunt her or her precious Konoha. It was merely an alliance of convenience, his affiliation with Akatsuki.

And yes, Akatsuki always struck fear whenever it was mentioned. Even the sight of the cloak with its telltale red clouds often provoked flight and fear.

But those people didn’t know the truth. They saw death and destruction, never even realizing that there was hardly a difference between the shinobi that protected them and the ones they were fleeing from. Itachi was one of the best people Kisame knew. Konan and Pein, while maybe a little overzealous, were definitely not bad people.

Yet here was this little kunoichi, firm in her ill-wrought beliefs that he, and anyone else affiliated with Akatsuki, must indeed be monsters.

That fear and hatred often worked to their advantage, though, and he couldn’t give up that tactic just because some really pretty, tiny kunoichi made his scalp tingle when she looked at him.

When she realized that he wasn’t going to respond to what she said, Sakura let out a dejected sigh and glanced over her shoulder at the large tree they’d just sought protection from.

“So I guess I’m stuck here now,” she said, slipping the straps of her pack off her shoulders. She lowered it down into the grass and began rummaging through her belongings. She pulled out a thin jacket and shoved her arms into the sleeves, zipping it up to ward against the deepening chill in the air.

She gave an uncertain glance to Kisame before she dragged her pack over to the trunk of the tree and curled her legs underneath herself to sit against it.

Kisame stood still, unsure of what to do now. Would it be okay to leave her here? If the storm worsened, it could knock down more trees or blow her right off her feet again.

“You’re not going to try to kill me or something, are you?” she asked when he’d stood for quite some time. He refocused his gaze, noting the lazy way she slumped against the tree and the violent shivers that seized her body.

“Not today, kunoichi,” he said, the simplest way to sum up his feelings on the situation. He couldn’t promise that the next time he saw her he wouldn’t be inclined or encouraged to kill her.

“Then you’ll keep watch while I take a nap?”

Kisame stared incredulously, not sure that he had heard her correctly. “You want an Akatsuki monster like me to guard you while you sleep?”

“Well, you haven’t hurt me yet, and I imagine you’d have done so already if you wanted to,” she explained, her eyes a little droopy. “And for some reason, you’re still here, so I might as well utilize you to your fullest potential.”

He scoffed at that, his eyes narrowing on her but not without amusement. “Fullest potential?” he repeated dryly. “I’m not your guard dog.”

Sakura merely shrugged. “Fine,” she said, leaning her head back against the bark. “I’ll just hope no one nefarious comes along.” Other than you, hung in the air.

She shut her eyes and crossed her arms tightly over her chest – her desperate attempt at conserving warmth. Kisame watched her shiver for a moment, certain that this was his cue to leave.

He turned back toward the river and took a step. A harsh breeze tore through the wood, sending needles of rain into Kisame’s skin. With a sympathetic wince, he turned back to look at Sakura.

A jolt of electricity lit up his body when he caught her penetrating gaze. Her malachite eyes pleaded and simpered. Whether a tactic she employed as one of the prettiest kunoichi he’d ever seen, or an actual, pitiful misery, Kisame was ashamed that it worked.

“Stay here,” he told her. “I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

He’d already let too much slip about the location of Akatsuki’s base, so instead of answering her, Kisame leapt into the trees without another word.

///

Kisame slipped easily in and out of the Akatsuki base. He wasn’t necessarily unnoticed – Itachi’s gaze followed him curiously when he ducked quickly into his room and emerged with an overstuffed pack.

He said nothing, though there was a brief flash of suspicion that crossed his face, those pinwheel eyes spinning when they connected with his.

Kisame offered no explanation. That was how things worked between them. So he vanished out into the storm.

Pulling his cloak tighter around his shoulders, and his wide-brimmed hat lower over his face, he swiftly made his way back to the wood. The rain was pounding down even harder now, rolling in thick sheets that drenched everything in their path. It delighted Kisame, the sheer magnitude of the high winds and heavy rains. It steeped the earth in cool greys and blues and greens. In spite of the thunder and lightning, there was something so calming about a storm.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem that Sakura shared his opinion. By the time he had reached her, she appeared to have abandoned all hope. She was curled into the fetal position, lying on her side with her back pressed against the tree trunk as if it could warm her. Her eyes were shut, but squeezed so tightly that Kisame was sure it would give her a headache.

She didn’t move, even as he approached and crouched down in front of her. Her face was raw and red from the winds, her hair and clothes soaked. She shivered uncontrollably, and Kisame felt glad that he’d found the compassion to come back for her. She certainly wouldn’t last the night out here like this.

“Pathetic,” he said, shaking his head. “If it weren’t for your reputation, I’d never have believed you’re a kunoichi.”

“I’m a damn fine kunoichi,” she said without opening her eyes to look at him, “but I’m smart enough to know when I’m outmatched, and probably outnumbered here since I’ll assume that what you’re hiding on the other side of your river is the Akatsuki base.”

He blinked, his fists curling tightly before he loosened them and dropped his heavy pack into the grass with frustration. He hoped he wouldn’t have to kill her.

“You wish,” he said. “In fact, it’s far more dangerous than that.”

“What’s more dangerous that Akatsuki?” she eyes, finally opening her eyes to look at him.

He beamed proudly at that, unclasping his Akatsuki cloak and sliding it off his broad shoulders. He covered Sakura’s shuddering body with it, amused when she grimaced and pulled away, repulsed by the cloak’s symbolism. It didn’t take long for her to change her tune. She pulled it tighter around herself, trying to soak up all the warmth Kisame had left behind.

“Rain is a seedy place, Sakura,” he answered. “It’s no place for a girl like you.”

It must have been hard for her to find gumption to deny that he was absolutely right. She looked a mess all trembling and wet beneath the blanket of his muddy cloak. With an irritated and resigned sigh, she shoved her damp hair out of her face and fixed him with a stern gaze.

“Why did you come back?” she demanded.

Kisame rocked back on his heels and reached for his pack. He unzipped it and pulled out the bones of a single person tent, a bedroll, and a waterproof tarp. “I thought you could use these,” he said.

Sakura gaped at him, which he ignored as he found a suitable spot underneath the tree where the rain didn’t pour quite so hard and began to lay down the tarp. He was sure he couldn’t properly explain to her why he had gone to fetch these things for her, or why he was helping her pitch the tent now.

She offered him no help, but he had done this enough times to be able to pitch a tent quickly. In a matter of minutes, the tent was ready, the bedroll unfurled and ready for her to curl up inside.

With a satisfied grunt, Kisame lurched back up to his feet and extended his hand to the tiny kunoichi. Her gaze wavered between him and the tent, eyes curious and suspicious. Hesitantly, she put her hand in his. Kisame tried not to think about how impossibly soft her hand was as he pulled her up to her feet.

“That should a least keep you dry through the storm,” he said, gesturing toward his handiwork. “Just leave it here and I’ll come back to get it in the morning.”

She blinked, her long pink lashes glittering with tiny beads of rainwater. It was beginning to grow quite dark now as late evening approached. The storm covered any light the moon might give, yet Sakura’s eyes glowed with an ethereal eeriness that made Kisame’s skin tingle all over.

“Will I be safe here?” she asked him.

“You’re a kunoichi,” he grunted. “I’m sure you can handle yourself.”

She shook her head, damp, pink tresses flinging droplets of water around her in a halo. “I meant from the storm,” she said. “You said it was going to get worse. A tree isn’t going to fall on me, right? I won’t get struck by lightning?”

As if demonstrating her point, the sky suddenly brightened, a bolt of lightning casting harsh, relentlessly bright light over the wood. Sakura flinched and a second later the low, deep roar of thunder followed, rattling the ground beneath them. Kisame judged that the lightning had struck very close by.

“Fair point, kunoichi—”

“Sakura.”

“That tent is likely to blow right over, even with your svelte little body inside,” he agreed, ignoring her correction. “But I’m not sure what else I can do for you. I’ve been generous enough, I think.”

She didn’t disagree with him, but she frowned and let her eyes drift back toward the tent. “I suppose so,” she said. “You’ve done all you can.”

Kisame followed her gaze to the tent. It was enough, wasn’t it? She agreed – he’d done all he could.

“Thanks, fishboy,” she said, thrusting her open hand out for him to grasp.

The winds began to pick up as Kisame narrowed his eyes at her. Sakura, weakling that she was, winced and missed the dryness of his gaze. She hugged her arms tightly around herself, quaking like a leaf. The sky became overwhelmingly dark as night officially fell.

“Get in the tent, Sakura,” he said, sensing that the storm was worsening quickly. He glanced at her to find that she was already inside, huddled in the bedroll.

Satisfied that he’d done a good enough deed, Kisame headed back toward the river.

“Wait!” Sakura called after him. He paused, restrained a sigh of irritation, and turned to look at her over his shoulder.

“Are you sure it’s safe for you to go out there?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about me, kunoichi,” he teased. “I’ll be alright.”

“I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here, though.”

This caught Kisame so off guard that he felt his jaw actually drop open. He composed himself and ambled back toward her, cautious and curious.

“Why would you feel better if a monster like me stayed with you?” he asked, not quite accusingly, but apparently with enough suspicion to make Sakura bristle.

“Hey, I’m a monster, too,” she said with obvious disdain. “I try not to be one all the time, but I’m a kunoichi. It’s part of the job.”

Sakura scooted closer to the edge of the tent so that she faced the opening. She looked up at Kisame with wide, stupidly endearing eyes, and gestured for him to come inside. Kisame shook his head, trying to hide his immediate reaction of disdain. There was room enough for him in there, yes, but only him. Fortunately, that meant it was quite roomy for just Sakura.

The look of hurt on her face made his chest feel tight.

“You’re not a monster right now and neither am I,” she said. “You’re just a boy and I’m just a girl.”

“If you call me a boy one more time I will tear off all your limbs and eat them in front of you,” he threatened, though he also crossed his legs underneath him and sat down in front of the tent as an effort to appease her. She was just a little girl, after all. He didn’t blame her for being scared to be all alone out here.

“Fine, you’re just a man and I’m just a woman.”

Darkness took most of his sight away from him. He could barely see her eyes glowing in the hollow mouth of the tent. He was suddenly curious about her age, her body – was she really a woman? The only way to find out now was to touch her…

“Aren’t you a bit young to be calling yourself a woman?” he asked.

“I’m seventeen,” she said, her tone chilling. He’d offended her.

“I see,” Kisame said, “a fully grown seventeen-year-old who needs a babysitter, even if it’s a criminal missing-nin.”

“You don’t have to stay here, Kisame,” she said solemnly. For the second time he was caught off guard – by her tender utterance of his name (which he hadn’t even realized she knew), and the lilting offer of freedom. Hadn’t she wanted him to stay here?

“I just like having you here. That’s all.”

“You what?”

“Should I not?” she asked in the wake of his incredulity. “You’ve been doting on me like I’m a helpless little kitten abandoned by its mother. I don’t often have people treating me with this level of care – certainly not enemies.”

This made Kisame flush, heat rising not to his just his cheeks, but a flood of other places on his body. Luckily for him, the muted grey color of his skin hid the red flush of blood from Sakura’s sight.

“I’m not doting on you,” he insisted.

“No?” she asked disbelievingly.

“I’m not,” he said firmly. “Am I?”

“You could be trying to trick me,” she accused, though her tone was light. “You could be trying to lull me into a false sense of safety so you can strike. Is that what you’re trying to do, Kisame?”

He shook his head with a grin, amused by her assessment. “Not my style,” he explained. “I’m far more likely to bleed you to death on sight.”

“Except you haven’t,” she pointed out, her voice barely audible over the winds and rain.

“You caught me on an empathetic day.”

Sakura hummed softly in acknowledgement. Even in the darkness, Kisame could see the sparkle of amusement in her eye.

“Has it ever occurred to you that you may be the one in danger?” she asked.

Kisame guffawed with laughter, ignoring the inexplicably smug expression on the kunoichi’s face. “No, little girl, that hadn’t occurred to me,” he said, grinning down at her with some arrogance of his own.

She hummed again, and he could see a teasing grin playing at her lips. “So I suppose you feel pretty safe here with me, then,” she said.

He certainly hadn’t felt like he was in any danger, but now that she had pointed out that he very well could be, a feeling of unease settled over Kisame. Had he underestimated her? Did she have something up her sleeve now?

“Don’t worry,” she said, seeing the sudden change in his expression. “You caught me on an empathetic day.”

“Alright, kunoichi,” he said dryly, getting up to his feet. “You’ve wasted enough of my time today.”

Sakura’s chime-like laughter floated through the woods, made eerie by the cadence of pouring rain behind it.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He fixed her with a glare he was sure she couldn’t even see. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Then stay,” she urged, reaching up for his hand and giving it a firm tug.

Suspicious of her deceit, Kisame snatched his hand away from her cool grasp. It wasn’t that he had underestimated her skill. Now that he was thinking about it, he remembered that this little waif was the one who had killed Sasori. Sasori was a formidable opponent and for her to slay him…

It was just that she seemed content to share his company and give him those sugary smiles. They were still enemies right? If she was such a damn good kunoichi, then why did she want him around anyway? It wasn’t because she was scared. There wasn’t an ounce of fear on her at the moment.

“It’s raining,” he said with a pout. “I want to go home.”

“Is it the rain that’s bothering you?” she asked, reaching for his hand again, a teasing lilt to her voice. “Or is it me?”

Now Kisame felt foolish. Had this all been some sort of elaborate ruse? Had she made a mockery of him, teasing him even now for falling into her trap? He had been seduced, he thought, glaring at the wet, smiling kunoichi.

“It’s you,” he snapped, irritated to have been played so easily. “You’re annoying.”

She recoiled and let his hand fall back to his side. He could see the shock and hurt etch slowly across her face before it disappeared and was replaced by smooth stoicism.

“Very well,” she said, her eyes cast away from him as she retreated further into the tent. “I’ll leave everything here as you’ve put it.”

Kisame didn’t move for a moment, struck by a pang of guilt. The hurt on her face had been so raw he couldn’t help but believe he’d hit a rather sore spot for her. He heard her rustling around inside the tent. A moment later the tent flap was brusquely zipped closed.

Though only the thin, waterproof material of the tent was between them, Kisame suddenly felt quite alone out here in the woods. He’d gotten off lucky, he thought. The sneaky kunoichi could have had all kinds of tactics under her belt with which she could hurt him. She was letting him go; he should take the opportunity.

The shinobi in him knew it was best to leave now. Either that or kill her, which he knew he wouldn’t be able to convince himself to do. Leaving and pretending he’d never seen her was the smartest course of action.

But the boy in him was curious about this pretty girl who seemed to want his company. Seduced or not, it would be nice to see her eyes again, to feel illuminated by her focused gaze.

“Umm, excuse me,” Sakura called dryly from inside the tent. “I’m not going to be able to sleep with your scary shark-god silhouette looming over me all night. Could you scram?”

Shark-god? Amused, he crouched back down and unzipped the tent. Sakura’s glowing eyes peered at him from the furthest corner. She blinked slowly at him with doe eyes as if she had expected him to stay this whole time.

What the hell, he thought to himself. When was the last time he did something both this fun and dangerous?

“Make room for me in there,” he warned, knowing full well that there was not room for him in there.

He climbed into the tent, carelessly pawing at Sakura’s body as he finagled them into a semi-appropriate position. Sakura squeaked and squawked as he took his ample time to discover that she did, indeed, have a woman’s body.

When they’d settled, Kisame’s massive frame took up most of the space in the tent. Near his feet, Sakura sat with her arms crossed, huddled into the corner.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked, giving her a toothy grin.

“Not quite,” she muttered dryly, “but at least it’ll stay nice and warm in here.”

“Ah, that’s what you want from me,” he said, finally understanding. “Can’t build a fire, so you’re just going to use my body?”

“If you don’t mind,” Sakura said, deftly climbing over his legs. She moved up near his chest, lifted his arm, and pulled it around her shoulder as if it were a blanket. Kisame felt suddenly as if a hurricane was ripping through his veins. His heart fluttered; his blood rushed in his ears. Sakura curled herself against his body, tucking herself into his armpit.

Frozen, he stared down at her face, which was indelicately smushed against his ribcage now. Her eyes were shut, pink lashes resting on flushed cheeks. She was too pretty to look at, even with her face scrunched up, but Kisame couldn’t bear to look away while she was so unguardedly close.

Her breath raised goosebumps on his skin, even through his shirt. It was intimate and not at all the reaction he’d expected upon entering the tent.

“You’re going to sleep?” he asked incredulously.

“Yep.” She nuzzled his chest with her face, the little fool.

Half of his senses were telling him to bolt, the other half lit up by the beautiful woman pressed against him. Hesitantly, he reached across his stomach with his non-blanket arm and settled his hand against her waist.

Sakura let out a soft sigh and burrowed a little deeper into the cavern of warmth his body provided.

It was with no small amount of surprise that Kisame realized she had already fallen asleep. What kind of kunoichi could so easily drift off in the arms of a known enemy like this? Was she crazy? Was he?

But after his racing heart had calmed down, he began to understand. Sakura’s warm, heavy, sleeping body was like a sedative – better than any glass of warm milk or lilt of gentle rain could provide. Her slow, even breaths gave him a gentle cadence to listen to as he nodded off.

And it surprised him, too, the ease with which he fell asleep with an enemy in his arms.

///

Kisame woke with a stiff ache in all of his muscles. His entire body felt sore with the kind of pain he only experienced after a particularly rough sparring session. Blearily, he blinked his eyes open. He didn’t remember sparring yesterday. He only remembered…

He nearly screamed at the dizzying angle he found himself subjected to with his eyes now open. He was strung up in the mangled pieces of his own tent, precariously wrapped around one of the higher branches in the tree they’d slept under.

White-hot fury seeped thickly through his body. He attempted to wrench himself free from his binding only to find that he couldn’t move his muscles – any of them. Hopelessly, he tried moving each muscle he could think of. His body betrayed him. Sakura betrayed him. He would kill her, that beautiful, dangerous, sneaky little—

“I’m not even going to ask.”

Kisame could not angle his head to look at his new visitor, but he knew his partner’s voice anywhere. Itachi ambled into view, peering up at Kisame with blood-red eyes. He hated that even from this distance he could see the amusement in them.

Sakura’s message had been received. He had underestimated her. She could have killed him, but she chose to use humiliate him instead – after using him, nonetheless.

Itachi tossed a kunai that severed the bit of twine that held Kisame aloft. Kisame’s body crashed into the grass. He grunted, unable to do much else, even as he felt pain radiate through his body.

“Looks like poison,” Itachi noted. Kisame could only see his sandaled feet approaching. “It should wear off soon enough.”

As Itachi lifted Kisame up and heaved him onto his shoulder, the tightening ball in his gut expanded.

He wasn’t sure if it was from utter humiliation or the memory of Sakura’s pretty face smushed against his ribcage.