Chapter 4: Growing Roots

Cover Art by Tricneu . Tumblr . Com

"There are perhaps many causes worth dying for, but to me, certainly, there are none worth killing for." ― Albert Dietrich

. . .

I thought Kisame was going to kill me right then and there. I didn't expect him to squeeze back for half a second before pushing me onto the ground with a grunt of annoyance.

"You can't do that," Kisame chastised me, but the corner of his mouth was curved up into a slight grin. He's humoring me?

Before I could retort, Chinatsu's head snapped up and she howled in pain. Kisame rolled his eyes and released her from his grip, holding his hands up in an attempt to appease the young Hozuki heiress. Chinatsu eyed him sharply, searching for weaknesses but undoubtedly finding none she could take advantage of- especially not when he already taken her down.

Run, I silently urged her, Stay out of this.

I watched with wide eyes as Chinatsu snatched up Suigetsu and ran off, wiping tears from her eyes as she did. I took note of the bloodstains on her lilac tank top, the childish clothing stained a deep, sorrowful brown. Kiri was corrupting her. It was corrupting us all in the smallest of ways, breaking down our morals and our memories until there was nothing left but blood.

Kisame had the worst of it. I could feel the weight of his chakra all around us, as thick and heavy as lead. It was almost malignant, but it drew me in anyway.

Just hours ago, I wouldn't have even noticed it. I guess his fight with Chinatsu- if you could even call it that- had drawn out Kisame's primal side.

"Why did you come back?" I all but whispered, pushing myself up off the ground to meet Kisame's impassive eyes.

He blinked once, then cracked his neck before replying, "Just felt like I owed you one."

I opened my mouth to protest, but by then Kisame was already standing up and preparing to disappear into the forest yet again. I called out to him only once, having realized that a conversation with him would be futile for the time being.

Kisame and I both knew we had broken the rules big time. He wasn't supposed to know my name, yet alone where I hung out with my little brother. I wasn't supposed to know that he would one day grow into one of the most fearsome shinobi in the entire world and defect from the village that he now served with unrelenting loyalty.

Kiyoshi was perhaps the most confused of all. He clung to my side like a limpet after Kisame stalked off, watching open-mouthed as the now empty park began to darken. The day was already over, and starting tomorrow Kisame would be gone for months on end, leaving me to wonder where I stood with him until he decided to pop back into my life like a big, bad blue Mary Poppins. I had no idea where Kisame lived or how to track him down, but I did know that he knew me. He might have even been following me around.

Did he think I was going to rat him out? I wondered as I hustled Kiyoshi down the muddy road that trailed back to our home at the epicenter of the Hoshigaki Compound, glancing over my shoulder every few seconds for signs we were being followed.

Like the majority of the buildings in Kirigakure, our house was an ugly greenish grey and squished into a gated compound. Vines wound across the red terracotta roof and trailed down its sides like water dripping down a mountainside. Our father usually kept the vines at bay with his kunai, but without his usual landscaping the greenery had grown unchecked, threatening to swallow up our house if we left them alone for much longer.

Much like my thoughts, nature in Kirigakure sprung up annoyingly and everywhere. Kiri nin were big on leaving things untouched, marred only with the scars of the invisible battles that took place behind our closed eyelids whenever we went to sleep. I hadn't actually seen combat yet, so it was the little things that haunted me- the sound of bones shattering during sparring, finding the teeth and nails of small children embedded in my clothes after a particularly rough trip to the park, and the endless sprays of blood in the air. I wove them all together at night, making a monster that would never be able to leave my head. It towered over me during the day even more than Kisame did, polluting my head with poisonous thoughts.

Kiyoshi, ever the show-off, was immune to my nightmares. He was built for this type of cruelty, having known no other, kinder world. In his eyes, the weak were meat for the strong to eat and Kiyoshi was going to be one of the strongest there ever was.

I guess he saw me as someone he had to either defend or step over to get to the top. He carried kunai while I armed myself with words and wittiness- the latter of which I barely had enough of to get by with.

It was then that I decided it was time to ask my father for a proper weapon. He had given me kunai and shuriken, but they stabbed holes in the pockets of my shorts and cut up my hips, leaving tiny white scars behind, so I stopped carrying them around. Kiyoshi and I rarely left the compound anyway.

Even so, I no longer felt any semblance of safety. If that Hozuki kid had been allowed to have a real sword, then I needed one too. There was no telling what else was lurking out there, just waiting for me to slip up. My chakra wasn't strong enough on its own. It still felt like jello, flowing through my veins in a thick, congealed mush, almost too heavy to move through willpower alone. I needed something to level the playing field.

Once, I had heard my parents whispering about it after we were supposed to be in bed. They said my chakra reserves were some of the largest in two generations, but until I could actually make use of it I would never be able to survive as a shinobi. They talked about weapons, and how essential it would be for me to seek out a shishou before I started school. Before I got myself killed.

My father had made a dissatisfied sound. "Most of the Seven Swordsmen are already occupied with their own apprentices. She'll never be able to make the cut."

My mother had shaken her head. "There is only one sword left unclaimed. I suppose Zabuza might be willing to take her on as an apprentice if I cash in a favor or two with Yagura-sama, but I wouldn't count on it. With that chakra of hers, she's an even bigger target than he is."

At the time, I had wondered just who 'he' was.

Now, having met Kisame, I finally understood what they had meant. He was the son of Kirigakure's infamous Ripper, Ryusame, and the strongest female shinobi in our entire clan. He had chakra reserves as vast as the sea was deep, and he had been the first Hoshigaki to be hailed as a tailed beast without a tail. By the time he was fully grown, he would be stronger than the Mizukage and built like a tank. Then, he would become the monster I remembered, all gnashing teeth and unrivaled strength.

For the time being, he was just another child soldier with a bounty on his head... and a body count higher than my mother's monthly salary. During wartime, everyone associated with Kirigakure had a target on their backs, but the one on Kisame's was a mile wide. Being associated with Kisame could end up being a death sentence if a bounty hunter decided to come for his head.

Then again, I didn't have much to lose. I had faced death once already, and I had been stripped of everything I had come to know and love- my friends and family, my language, even my own face had all been made the casualties of this eternal war between life and death.

After I tucked Kiyoshi into bed that night, I made a silent vow of self preservation. Tomorrow at sun up, I was going to go find my big brother and make him my teacher.

. . .

Kisame was as hard to find as I expected. I checked every household in the Hoshigaki compound, but I couldn't sense his presence anywhere. There were only six houses besides ours and three little shacks in the compound, and all of them were equally as shabby as the rest of the city. Even the pathway to the main road was falling to pieces and pockmarked with broken glass. I knew all those roads well enough to know that Kisame didn't come this way often- if at all.

My brother had come from the west by the barren, craggy seashore. Our compound was in the outlands of Kirigakure, connected only to the village by a thin dusty pathway and to the ocean by an isthmus that carved a harsh line between the Hoshigaki and the Karatachi clans. We laid claim to the ocean and its creatures while they holed up in the sand dunes, ever vigilant and prepared for combat. The Hozuki exclusively controlled the eastern shore, taking advantage of the sea's closeness to solidify the protective barrier that separated their compound from the dinginess of the rest of the village. My mother once said that they had always been needlessly elitist, but I wasn't sure if that was the full truth or just our clan rivalries talking. Either way, I doubted a full blooded Hoshigaki would be able to slip through the cracks and infiltrate their ranks.

With those areas out of the question, I knew there were only a few other places Kisame could possibly be. One was the smoggy city center, where the clanless rented out dimly-lit apartments and ran shady businesses on the side. Another was in the foothills of the craggy mountain range that dominated Kirigakure's landscape, casting shadows over its entirety. A few sanka minka were spread out at its base, their sloping triangular roofs threatening to cave in at any second. Most of them were occupied by the few civilians that called Kiri home, not young shinobi.

With a grimace, I forced myself to veer off to the right side of the path and out of the safety of the compound. I had finally figured out where Kisame was, but he wasn't anywhere I wanted to be.

The Hoshigaki and the sea were one in the same. We lived and breathed water, using it in everything from our clan techniques to our bedtime stories. The entire western seashore was ours for the taking, but the waves there were rough and unforgiving so most of our land was uninhabited. Legend has it that before the founding of Kirigakure, a few sharks left the sea and grew human limbs but kept their original teeth. Those creatures were said to have lived in caves by the shoreline for six generations, in total harmony with the sea, until there came a day when war ravaged their lands and forced them to become shinobi. And so began the Hoshigaki.

Nowadays, those caves were supposed to be empty, but my mother had always forbidden me from visiting them anyway. She insisted that something about them just wasn't right, but now I knew better. She had been hiding her oldest son there for years, right under our noses. Kisame was still one of us, even if he wasn't living with the rest of the clan like he should have been. He would always be a son of the sea, and that meant he wouldn't want to stray too far away from it or his mother. I wasn't immune to the sea's pull either, and I had some foreign blood in my veins on my father's side. Kisame was as Hoshigaki as they came, and they all stuck to their own- the ocean included.

I could feel the tide ebb and flow with the sunrise as I approached the rocky shoreline. Caves dotted the cliffside, tucked in behind craggy rocks and sea flora like secret compartments. Tide pools fringed the outer rim of the shoreline, harboring tiny sea stars and brightly colored octopi. Every inch of the pools thrummed with life, its brightly colored creatures harmonizing perfectly like the chords in a song. It was too beautiful to belong on the ashen black cliffsides of Kiri.

As I bent down to examine a particularly beautiful conch shell, I felt a heavy presence shift behind me. Please be Kisame, I prayed, Please don't let this be an enemy.

Before I could turn around to explain myself, a heavy, crushing weight was already wrapping itself around me and squeezing tight. I smelled metal polish and the sterileness of soap, with just a hint of the sea.

Kisame.

"What are you doing here, brat?" He asked gruffly, with his face pressed into the crook of my neck. His hands rested loosely around my waist, as if he hadn't decided whether he wanted to restrain me or fully embrace me yet. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, equally torn between screaming in surprise and crying tears of relief.

His presence was becoming strangely comforting.

"I need your help," I admitted softly, "I can't control my chakra and Mom is worried about me... I'm tired of being weak!"

Kisame pulled away, seemingly perplexed. I doubted it was because of my question.

"You're weak?" He said, "With chakra like yours?"

"I can't use it. Not even a little bit." I could feel my heart beating faster, adding to my nervousness.

With space now between us, Kisame shifted on his feet like he wasn't sure how to work his body anymore. His shoulders were wider than his stance allowed, and he teetered ever so slightly before settling into a pointedly wider position. He's still growing, I realized. When is he going to stop?

"It's too much, isn't it?" Kisame asked, gesturing to all of me with a knowing smirk on his face despite his previously nervous wobble.

I nodded, lowering my head in shame. "I can't direct it. My whole body feels like sludge when I try to."

A wry grin spread across his face. "Sounds Old Man Kōjin has done a piss-poor job training you."

I swallowed hard, mulling over whether or not it would be wise to tell the truth. Finally, I admitted, "He hasn't been training me at all."

Kisame smirked, looking pleased with himself. "And I bet Daddy dearest has no idea you came to me for advice."

Serves him right for abandoning you.

I shook my head. "Not a clue. He'd be so upset with me, but I can't keep doing this anymore. Kiyoshi is four and he's stronger than me. That's not fair!"

Kisame didn't seem perturbed. "Sometimes it works out that way. Your father is an idiot if he thinks this is a problem he can solve on his own."

"He doesn't think it's a big deal," I said, biting my lip, "He wants me to find a master and learn from them. Someone in the Seven Swordsmen."

A look of quiet contemplation passed over Kisame's harsh features. "You mean he wants you to train under Zabuza? The Zabuza from my unit? He's the only one without an apprentice aside from Mangetsu, but he's stuck with his kid sister for now."

A tangle of dread knotted itself deep in my stomach. "Maybe. Is he as scary as they say?"

Kisame grinned widely, almost pridefully. "He's bat-shit crazy, but that's what makes him so good."

"I can't train with him until I can learn to use my chakra though. That's my problem." I said, feeling no less nervous than I had when Kisame and I had first met. Zabuza was an unknown variable. He had no reason to spare me. At least Kisame could claim blood ties.

"I can fix that." Kisame said simply, digging around in the pocket of his pants as he spoke. He tossed me a tiny jade bead a few seconds later.

"Roll that around on your fingers while I'm gone, preferably in water. Don't let it touch the ground." Kisame said, cracking his knuckles, "I'll come get you when I get back and show you how to go from there."

I held the bead tightly, nodding my head once. This was my only shot at becoming a proper shinobi and I didn't want to mess up.

"Be careful with that," Kisame chided me, reaching over my shoulder to close my palm with his own. "Mom gave it to me when I turned four."

I was thrilled he was getting comfortable enough around me to call Hama his mother- something he rarely did- but I could tell Kisame had been feeling neglected for a long time. That explained why he was willing to give me hugs, albeit brief ones. He missed his mother and was willing to do anything to get close to her again, even if it meant that he had to play nice with his half sister in order to win her favor.

"She misses you," I said quietly, unable to meet his eyes, "And I do too. Good luck on your mission."

Kisame nodded, a slight smile on his face. "Keep up with my bead and be good to Mom. That's all I ask in return for teaching you to fight."

My eyes lit up. He was giving me a chance!

"I promise I'll keep it safe, Kisame-san." I said solemnly.

He nodded in acknowledgment and started to move away, readjusting his tachi and flak jacket without another word. My chest tightened as I watched him go.

"Kisame!" I called out as he was about to leave my line of sight, "How long have you known about me?"

Kisame paused and turned to look back at me, his dark eyes unreadable and intense. "Since before you could pick up your head."

My eyes filled with tears and as I fought them back, I couldn't help but ask, "Why didn't you reach out to me until now?" Why didn't you help me?

Kisame clenched his jaw, shouldering his tachi as he prepared to embark.

"You have Mom's eyes," He said quietly.

And then he was gone. I didn't call out to him this time. I knew he would come back.

. . .

The first thing I did when I got home was look in a mirror.

Seeing myself wasn't something I was comfortable with anymore. I kept expecting to see the face I had spent eighteen long years growing into, not my new, much bluer one.

I reached out to touch the glass, and the girl in the mirror did the same. She was wide-eyed and fearful, with a strong nose and full lips. Her eyes are not her own. They belong to her mother, to a shark woman, and to anyone but her true self. Her wavy hair brushes brushes loosely around her shoulders, a thick kelpy tangle of blackish-blue. She doesn't look human in the slightest.

I am not human anymore, am I?

With shaking hands, I ran my fingers down my exposed shoulders. My gills arched up into my probing fingers, opening up like flower buds uncurling during springtime. Every fiber of my being yearned to be back in the very same water that had taken me away from my past life. It was confusing and heart wrenching all at once.

I clenched my fists tightly around Kisame's jade bead right as the bathroom door creaked open, revealing a sleepy Kiyoshi and hard-eyed Hama. My brother and mother…

"What are you doing in here?" My mother asked, eyeing me suspiciously. I tried not to meet her eyes as I wondered if she could smell Kisame's chakra on me. She had just returned from a mission and was on high alert.

"My hair is all knotted," I said carefully, "Can you help me fix it?"

The hardness in Hama's eyes melted away instantaneously. She slunk over to the sink countertop and plopped down on top of it beside me, already scrounging through the drawer for a hairbrush. My mother wore her waist-length hair in a single neat braid, like an off-kilter mermaid, and was no stranger to careful grooming. It was her one vice.

So far, it seemed like Kisame was becoming mine.

"Why are you suddenly interested in your hair?" Hama asked as she expertly detangled my spiky strands. Kiyoshi watched in awe from his place on the floor, his arms wrapped around his stuffed shark toy and his eyes dark from lack of sleep. He was always nervous when we were home alone.

"It itches," I said simply, "And I don't want to look more ugly than I already do."

Hama sighed, setting down her seashell comb. "Kasumi, you aren't ugly. Who told you that you were?"

My eyes hardened. "I did. The other girls at school… they're all better than me and I'm not even a strong kunoichi. I'm not good at anything."

It was the first time I had spoken to Hama so candidly, but it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Sweetheart," She murmured, "You're not a bad kunoichi. You're different, that's all. Not everyone is meant to look or fight the same way. We are Hoshigaki, and we have never been weak."

Hama leaned forward to wrap her arms around me in a sideways hug. "One day, you will be one of the strongest among us."

"Just like Mama," Kiyoshi agreed solemnly.

"You have to find your own way to become great," My mother said with great finality, running her fingers through my hair.

As I looked up at her, it was impossible to deny that she had carried Kisame. He had her jawline, and her deep throaty laugh. Their bond was a secret one, just as ours was. My mother wasn't big on showing weakness, but I could see hints of warmth hiding in the depths of her dark grey eyes.

"I will do everything I can," I promised, squeezing Kisame's bead tightly before I tucked it away in my pocket. For both of you.

Later, as we all climbed into my father's empty bed to take a much-needed nap, I couldn't help but think that maybe- just maybe- our family would turn out alright.

. . .

It took two whole months for me to get good at following Kisame's directions. He hadn't left many in the first place.

The bead was a heavy little thing, just like Kiyoshi. In order to move it like Kisame had instructed, I had to start small. I laid down in the sand by Kisame's cave and attempted to balance it on my forehead using chakra to begin with.

My chakra was too powerful though. The bead flew into the air and rolled down the sloping shoreline into the ocean before I could stop it. With a grimace, I leapt in after it.

Believe it or not, I hadn't been swimming since the accident. My parents had known something was off about me since our first day outside of the compound. I hated the communal swimming pool, dreaded playing by the creek in the park, and refused to step foot on the beach. All of that had changed when Kisame carved a hole in my new reality the size of the Pacific Ocean. He forced me to break the rules and forget my inhibitions without even trying. He made me feel unstoppable.

Unfortunately, Kisame hadn't bothered to teach me how to swim in shark-infested waters.

Everything began to spin out of control as soon as I hit the water. The drop off point began right at the end of the sandbar, curving sharply down from the sunny shallows into sinister, heavy blackness. My gills fluttered to life and I sucked in a breath of fresh, salty air. My heart was pounding, heavy in my ears like the rage of a wave thrashing against the seashore on a stormy day.

Silently willing myself not to panic, I swam towards the only glimmer of light visible in the murky water, keeping my eyes fixed on a rapidly sinking bright green dot. Kisame's bead!

Something cold and rough like sandpaper bumped against my leg. I screamed, swallowing sea water and bile as I flipped around to identify the culprit.
Staring right back at me was a tiger shark the size of a sports car, its dark beady eyes glowing like coal embers in the waning light.

"Hello young one,"A delicate voice said, ringing out loud and clear despite the water around me, "What brings you to our domain?"

A spray of surprised bubbles and vomit were all I could manage in reply. A talking shark?!

"Yes, my daughter,"The apparently female shark replied, "We are all sentient here."

As if to comfort me, the shark bumped up against my side once again. "We welcome you to our domain, Kasumi."

How do you know my name? I wondered, shaking with nervousness in the chilly water.

"Kisame speaks of you often,"The shark said, "We are glad to finally meet you. It has been many years since a new pup has entered these waters."

I swallowed hard, tasting brine. We?!

Another, much larger shark swam into view, baring its teeth. The creature was dark grey with a white, splotchy underbelly and twice its companion's size. A great white.

"Welcome, Hoshigaki heir,"The creature greeted me with a thunderous rumble of a voice, "I am Daisame, ruler of these waters and contracted summon of Hoshigaki Kisame. I am glad you have finally joined us."

No amount of preparation could have prepared me for a collision with this much raw energy regardless. Chakra was rolling off of Daisame in waves, driving a swirling, stormy vortex of blackness into me like a hammer.

"Do you seek to form a contract with me?" The tiger shark asked, ignoring my anxiety.

I shook my head. "I don't think I'm ready. Kisame sent me here to practice controlling my chakra."

The smaller shark bobbed her head as she was nodding. "Daisame and I remember that bead of his well."

Daisame opened her mouth to reveal five rows of jagged teeth. It would have looked a lot like a smile if there hadn't been chunks of raw flesh still caught between her teeth- leftovers, presumably. "Ah, what a wild young thing he was. This one seems much better behaved."

"An old soul," The tiger shark chortled.

I gulped, feeling strangely exposed. "I'm only six," I said, knowing full well that it was a lie.

"Ah, but you are wise beyond your years." The tiger shark said, "I am Aisame, a free agent and assistant to Daisame the Great Protector. Should you chose to form a summoning contract in the future, you may do so with me."

My chest tightened, but instead of crying out in fear I was beginning to feel a strange sense of warmth. "It would be an honor," I said carefully.

We were communicating through some sort of telepathic link, but it seemed like both sharks could hear me regardless of whether I was thinking or speaking so long as I was in the water.

"Are there more?" I asked, peering out into the vast empty sea.

"Oh, yes child. There are thousands of us," Daisame cackled pridefully, "For every Hoshigaki that is born, at least ten new shark pups will be hatched accordingly."

"Our clans have lived in harmony with the sea for all eternity," Aisame explained carefully, "We give our lives to you young shinobi in exchange for your help with protecting our home."

My mother's monthly offerings to the god of the sea suddenly didn't seem so futile anymore. Being born into the Hoshigaki clan was only half the battle- the rest of our power seemed to stem directly from the sea. No wonder we had gills.

Finally, I built up enough courage to speak up. I had a million questions and none of the answers, but Kisame's bead had sunk to the seafloor and I would be damned before I left without retrieving it for him.

"When I return, I'll make a contract with you, Aisame," I said, "But for now I need your help. Kisame-san's bead slipped right out of my hands."

Aisame and Daisame shared a knowing look. Daisame swam towards me, bumping her blunt nose up against my thigh. She had given me no commands, but somehow I had known what to do.

I grabbed onto her dorsal fin and held on for dear life as Daisame sank into the depths of the sea, leaving the warm sunshine and the safety of the shallows far behind. All around us, aquatic life seemed to be thriving. Massive jellyfish with sharp red stingers floated by, trailing over schools of silverfish and scuttling crabs.

Smaller, dark-ringed sharks puttered by, mouthing at the seafloor for any signs of fresh blood. Daisame stopped to speak to one of them in a language I could not comprehend, all gnashing teeth and flailing fins.

"They are common creatures, not summons like us," She explained, "Bottom feeders, the whole lot of them."

"Have they seen my bead?" I asked, watching with wide eyes as the small sharks circled the seafloor like vacuum cleaners, sucking up scraps. A giant cloud of dust began to surround us, swirling like a vortex as Daisame and I sank further into the darkness.

"That one has eaten it," Daisame replied with a sigh, "The poor fool."

The shark in question, a tiny black banded catshark, lowered its head almost as if it was apologizing. It swam towards us, leaving the comfort of the seafloor and its tribe behind.

"Don't be scared," I said, "It's my fault for dropping it."

With no small amount of struggling, I managed to get the catshark to open its mouth. It had tiny, perfectly triangular white teeth tucked away in its gums so I was careful not to jostle it too much. I had no idea what would happen if my blood was in the water. Daisame could swallow me whole, leaving nothing but scraps for the scavengers behind.

Pushing that dark thought out of my mind, I carefully squeezed the catshark's stomach, pushing it from tip to tail like a tube of toothpaste. It spit up a cloud of algae and rotting flesh before finally releasing Kisame's bead from its maw. I wiped it off on the hem of my shirt before carefully pocketing the bead once more.

"Thank you for returning it to me," I told the catshark, "We are very grateful."

The creature nodded once before turning around and jetting off in the direction of the seafloor. Daisame swam back over to me, teeth bared in a sanguine grin. "You can speak to them. How curious."

"Can't you?" I asked.

"Of course. I can speak to all ocean dwellers." Daisam explained as she bumped against me once again. I took that as a sign to latch onto her side, and was thankful that I had because Daisame took off like a rocket as soon as I had gotten ahold of her. She shot up to the surface, leaving the chilly darkness of the seafloor and its inhabitants behind.

Aisame was there waiting for us, looking pleased. "That was quick. Are you certain that you don't want to sign a contract today?"

I nodded. "I'll return when I'm ready. I'm going to stick to Kisame's instructions until then."

Aisame and Daisame shared a knowing look. Clearly, both of them respected Kisame. Otherwise, they probably would have torn me to shreds- Hoshigaki blood be damned. Even a blind man would have been able to tell that there was something off about me.

After a few more minutes of quiet conversation about Kisame and the rest of the clan, the sharks and I finally parted ways. I swam east, kicking as hard as I could in the direction of the island. Without them around to guide me, I didn't feel safe in the water.

I stumbled back onto the shore at sundown and flopped listlessly onto my back on the sand. Above me, dark storm clouds were beginning to cluster together, but for the time being all was quiet. I was too exhausted to move, so instead of trying to head home I curled up in the sand and drifted off to sleep.

I awoke to the sound of rustling leaves, smelling bitter chakra and blood in the air. I shot to my feet, digging in my pockets for a kunai as I approached the treeline. Whatever was coming this way was powerful and it didn't smell like anyone I had ever known.

There was a loud bang, and a gangly boy tumbled out of the forest, flopping onto the rocky shoreline like a fish out of water.

I barrelled towards him and shouted, "Hey you! This is Hoshigaki land!"

I wasn't much for clan politics, but I knew that I would be dead meat if my father found out I had let a stranger pass unchecked through our territory. We had staked our claim to this land hundreds of years ago, paying the price for its ownership with human blood.

The boy didn't reply. He was face down in a pool of his own blood by the time I reached him, gasping for breath. His wild mane of shaggy, straw-colored hair was matted with blood, and upon closer inspection I realized his skull had been cracked open. He had been attacked from behind and left to bleed out. Whoever had done it hadn't been a Hoshigaki.

"What are you doing here?" I asked cautiously, bending down to check his wounds. I had been CPR certified in my past life, but the training I received back then was seriously lacking in comparison to the mess of blood and bones before me.

I moved closer to the boy and attempted to pick him up. He was tall and gangly, his skin stretched thin over sharp bones and lean muscles. Lifting him was easy enough since he weighed no more than Kiyoshi, but balancing his lanky body with my much smaller one was proving to be a difficult task indeed.

"Turn over please," I said, "I'm trying to help you."

"Just let me die," The boy garbled, spitting blood onto my sandals, "I've failed."

He couldn't have been more than ten. No way in hell I'm letting you die.

"Like hell I am," I said, "You're coming with me. So turn the fuck over."

With a groan of pain, the boy complied. He rolled over in my lap until we were face to face, revealing two half-lidded dark eyes and a mess of bloody, ripped skin. His cheekbones were as sharp as knives and jutted out from his narrow face in a way that could only mean one thing. He was starving and probably hadn't eaten in days.

"I'm Hoshigaki Kasumi," I said carefully, "And I promise I'm going to get you out of here."

For a moment, I thought he had already given up on me, but the boy finally spoke up. "I'm Kuriarare Kushimaru and you don't have to."

My feet almost went out from underneath me. One of the Seven Swordsmen?!

"I promised you I would," I chided him, pretending everything was fine, "So that's what I'm going to do."

Before Kushimaru could protest, I threw one of his skinny arms over my shoulder and wobbled to my feet. After a bit of readjustment, I was able to carry him bridal style off the beach and down the path back into town. Kiyoshi called out to us as we stumbled past the house, but I couldn't stop to talk. I had to keep going.

In both of of my lives, I had always been more of a watcher than a warrior. I usually let other people take action for me, but this time I refused to. I was going to finish what I started.

"Don't close your eyes," I said, pinching Kushimaru's arm to keep him awake, "I don't need you dying on me this close to the hospital."
He grunted in reply, hiding his face with his free hand and using the other to pinch the back of my neck spitefully. I hadn't been able to get a good look at him yet because of all the blood, but even so it was clear that most of his wounds were on his face. Whoever had attacked him had done so purposefully. They hadn't meant to kill him. They wanted to disfigure him permanently.

"Stay still," I said as the hospital came into view, "We're almost there."

Kushimaru squeezed my neck tightly, almost fearfully. "You can put me down now."

"No." I said flatly. "I'm not leaving you alone."

He made a displeased noise but didn't protest again. I kicked the hospital door until it creaked open and dragged Kushimaru inside. As a team of medical ninja rushed over to load him on a stretcher, one pulled me to the side and began interrogating me.

"Where were you when you found him?" He barked, "Was he attacked by a wild animal?"

"I was on the western shore-" I started to say.

The medic cut me off. "Say no more, Hoshigaki-san. I understand that he was on your land and I am thankful you brought him in. You are a merciful young lady."

He bowed deeply, then turned and walked off, leaving me gobsmacked.

"Wait!" I shouted, "What's going to happen to him? Can I see him?"

The medic nin turned back with a sigh. "We are cleaning his stitches right now, so please come back tomorrow, Hoshigaki-san."

Stitches?! How bad was it?

"When are visiting hours?" I asked anxiously.

The medic nin looked stunned. "You- you can come anytime you'd like, Hoshigaki-san. For your safety, I recommend that you come tomorrow instead of staying the night. Please send your father my regards."

I narrowed my eyes. So that's what this is all about. It's all a bunch of elitist, clan bullshit! They think Kushimaru is automatically in the wrong!

Kirigakure was more political than you'd think. Names carried a lot of weight around here, and my father had made quite a name for himself in the village for being… well, a massive asshole. He was loud, demanding and as big as a NBA All-Star with the added horror of razor sharp teeth. Sometimes, I really hated him.

I couldn't deny the perks being his kid came with though. People feared my father's wrath enough to leave me alone. If I had been born into any other family, I probably would have been beaten up for being weak by now. Mercy was a foreign concept in Kirigakure, the kind of thing concerned parents might cook up to help their kids sleep through the night, and certainly not something to be encouraged. The medical ninja I had encountered had been the exception, not the rule.

Just like me. My heart was too big for my body, and when I got home I would be forced to pay the price for it. Bringing in Kushimaru might have been a mistake- especially if my father found out he had been on our land when he had gotten injured.

Even so, I didn't hate myself for it. Kushimaru was still a kid, just like I was, and maybe if I could change his life for the better then the rest of the village would end up changing too. It was worth a shot at least.

As I left the hospital, I dug Kisame's bead out of my pocket and held it close to my chest. When I had needed help, Kisame had come to my rescue. Now I had come to Kushimaru's, and I wasn't going to leave him behind. Kiri was a cruel place, so I needed all the allies I could find- even if that meant making friends with bloodthirsty backstabbers like Kushimaru.

The next time I saw him, Kushimaru had an entirely different face. His former sensei had attacked him for attempting to steal Nuibari, and although Kushimaru had won the battle he had been disfigured permanently. Long, ugly black stitches bisected his features, carving sharp lines into his cheekbones and lips. A trio of haphazardly-stitched gashes ran across his left eye, which he had miraculously escaped with, and another arced out from beneath his right one and trailed down his cheekbone. Both of his eyes were muddy brown and rimmed with thick lashes, glaring harshly at me from beneath two full blonde brows. Kushimaru's lips were in equally bad shape, having been permanently split and stitched back together by his sensei. He looked like a blonde, prepubescent Frankenstein, and when he opened his mouth to speak for the first time since the accident I realized he had teeth the size of my forty six year old father's. They were as big and sharp as the needle he had fought so hard for, and when he smiled they fit perfectly together like a bear trap. In a strange, subtle sort of way, I thought Kushimaru and the Cheshire Cat had a lot in common.

We didn't speak much when I would visit, but I could tell Kushimaru had a begrudging sort of respect for me. He didn't bother covering up his face when I was around, though he had donned a few bandages when my mother decided to pop in for a surprise visit.

His parents were never around, so Hama gladly filled in. She brought him hot lunches and sat with us while Kushimaru pretended to be able to eat with his homemade bandage mask still on, totally oblivious to how uncomfortable it made him. Once, she even brought Kiyoshi, who annoyed us all with never-ending questions about hospital life and what pain felt like. Not exactly the best representation of our clan… Nothing like Kisame, anyway.

It took three days for Kushimaru to heal up completely, and by the time he was ready to be discharged I considered him my friend. Sure, we barely spoke, but I talked enough when we did to fill in the gaps in both the conversation and Kushimaru's sanity. He was a decent enough kid when he wasn't focusing on how badly he wanted to take revenge against his master for destroying his face.

"It's too bad he's dead," Kushimaru had said with a maniacal laugh, "I'd rip out his fucking eyes and sew his mouth shut if I could. Maybe I should do that to one of his kids instead."

Without saying a word, I had pressed the alert button on the wall beside his hospital bed and called in a medic nin to up his medication. I was thankful that they hadn't questioned me. Fixing whatever was going on inside Kushimaru's head was going to take a lot longer than I had thought.

Still, I wasn't going to give up on him. After he was released, I made sure to walk home with him almost every day. Kushimaru was ten and fresh out of the Academy, so he was stuck doing D-Rank missions until he built up enough seniority to go out on the "fun" ones. D-Ranks in Kirigakure could mean anything from hunting rabid wild animals to cleaning up after a battle. Kushimaru had said that he hated the latter the most because dragging bodies was hard work, and I had paused our walk to go vomit in the bushes. My little brother in my previous life had been ten too.

No matter how good things got, I still hated Kirigakure with every fiber of my being. The city center was grimy and full of rats, and the people that lived there were equally as ornery and sly. The supposedly noble cans weren't much better. The heads of each of the three spent hours bickering over who owned what and how many soldiers each was allowed to have. Sometimes they fought and sometimes they didn't, but nothing ever really changed. Kirigakure's caste system reigned supreme.

Kushimaru was the first commoner I had encountered in Kirigakure. He lived in a moldy apartment above a pawn shop in the city center with his parents and older sister. His father was an alcoholic chunin who didn't come around often, and his mother was a former prostitute turned bitter housewife. His mother and sister worked as maids for the Hozuki Clan, and Kushimaru's mission pay was more than they made in a month. They didn't let him take days off. Kushimaru's young life had become a constant cycle of maiming and murder. It was no wonder he was so off in the head.

Everything changed when he met me. My family had money, connections to the village heads. I could get him better missions and maybe even a steady job as a bodyguard if that was something he was interested in.

Kushimaru didn't want my pity though. He had worked for everything he had- including the scars on his face- and it was his dream to become an Anbu hunter nin one day. He claimed to only care about the pay, but I knew better. He wanted a proper mask to hide his face, not a makeshift bandage one.

"We could buy you one, you know," I had said one day as we journeyed home from the beach where Kushimaru liked to train. It bordered the Hoshigaki land, but with me around that was no longer an issue.

Kushimaru had shaken his head, dark eyes half-lidded with boredom. "It'd be a waste. I want something that's mine and can't be taken away."

"But if you buy it, then it's yours to keep," I had protested.

"Don't be stupid, Hoshigaki," Kushimaru had barked in reply, "You're a spoiled clan kid. Nothing I buy will ever belong to me unless I pay for it in blood, so keep your fucking money. I don't need anything from you!"

He shoved me hard into the sand, sending a torrent of well-aimed punches into my gut. I kicked him back, digging my heel into his solar plexus.

"Fuck you!" He screamed, clipping me in the jaw, "Fuck you and your money!"

White, hot pain filled my head and I screamed, hitting him back with every ounce of force I could muster. I just wanted him to stop. Kushimaru, on the other hand, wanted me dead.

We grappled on the ground for what felt like hours, dragging each other through the sand and slashing at each other with our weapons. Instead of drawing his sword, Kushimaru had drawn a single kunai. In his own way, I supposed he was pitying me.

My stamina won out though. I didn't know any ninjutsu but I could keep going for hours, throwing punch after punch until my enemy collapsed from exhaustion. Kushimaru didn't go down quite so easily, but when he finally did it cut me deeper than any blade would have.

"Fuck you," He said again, sporting a nasty black eye and broken nose, "I don't need your pity or your friendship! Just let me be alone."

He crumbled to the ground, struggling to breathe behind his makeshift mask. I lunged forward and ripped it off his face, tackling him for good measure. If I hadn't known better, it would have sounded a lot like he was crying.

"I'm not going to leave you alone," I said, laying fully on top of him, "So stop pushing me away. Just because I'm from a clan doesn't mean I think you're worthless. You're a better shinobi than me, Kushimaru. I can't control my chakra yet and you're already a member of the Seven Swordsmen!"

Kushimaru sniffed, sounding pissed off and sad all at the same time. "Just get off me, Kasumi. Please... I want to go home."

I rolled off of him, and for a moment we laid side by side, staring into eachothers' eyes. His were as blank and unfeeling as ever while mine were brimming with unshed tears. Whether they had been caused by my injuries or Kushimaru's outburst, I couldn't say for sure. All I knew was that this fight had hurt me twice as much as sparring with Kiyoshi ever had.

"I have to go." Kushimaru finally said, pushing himself up off the ground with a groan.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I said, forcing a smile as I watched him go.

Kushimaru didn't look back as he ran off but if I listened hard enough, I could just barely make out the sound of him crying cold, bitter tears.

We didn't walk home together anymore after that.

. . .

When Kisame returned, spring was in full bloom. Aromatic flowers bloomed in clusters on roofs, along borders and even at the front gate, contrasting sharply with Kirigakure's usual doom and gloom. I was waiting for him at the front gate when he arrived with one of Hama's finest bento and his jade bead tucked safely into my pocket.

I watched teams of Anbu roll in like waves, passing through the gate unchecked while their chunin and jonin counterparts were met with scrutiny from the guards. Paperwork and even a few ryo notes exchanged hands, and then the gates opened once again, allowing in droves of lower level shinobi and civilians.

The group Kisame was in had arrived last, so I was forced to sit and watch for over an hour as the gatekeepers noted everyone coming in and out of the village with the speed and dedication of a snail with a head cold.

Finally, Kisame's group made it to the front of the line. I could just barely make out the top of Kisame's head as he waited patiently behind his comrades for the guards to give him permission to re-enter his hometown. Kirigakure had cracked down on security after a particularly brutal bout of domestic terrorism a few months back, so now even the loyalest shinobi was subject to intense scrutiny from Yagura's regime.

After an hour and a half of waiting, Kisame emerged from the line, walking side by side with a tall teenage boy with messy dark and a massive cleaver strapped to his back. My heartbeat quickened in an instant. Zabuza Momoichi!

"Kisame-san!" I called out to him anyway, "Welcome back!"
Kisame whipped around to face me, looking deeply perplexed. "Kasumi?"

I ran to meet them halfway, trying my hardest not to spill the bento I had helped Hama assemble. "I brought you lunch!" I chirped, practically launching myself at Kisame as I spoke.

He rebuked me for a second but begrudgingly wrapped his arms around me in a half-hearted hug. Kisame still smelled the same, all clean and metallic with just a hint of ocean brine.

"Did you really bring me food?" He asked.

Zabuza, who had been watching us both with narrowed eyes, chose that moment to speak up. "I want some too," He grunted out.

"Hey now," Kisame said, "That's my little sister."

"Since when do you have a sister?" Zabuza shot back, still holding hands out for his share of the food, "I thought you said she was your cousin."

Kisame clenched his jaw, clearly caught in a lie. "She's my half-sister," He admitted.

"I'm Hoshigaki Kasumi," I said weakly, regretting coming to wait for Kisame in the first place.

"I don't care if you're her father or her brother," Zabuza said with a grunt, "I just want some decent food."

I held out the bento like a peace offering, but Kisame snatched it out of my hands before Zabuza could.

"Hey, she made that for me," Kisame said, "So go find someone else to mooch off of."

His words were harsh, but there was no edge to Kisame's voice. He and Zabuza shared a knowing, mourning look that made me want to ask a million questions that I had no business knowing the answers to.

Before Zabuza could turn around and walk off, I pulled my own lunch out of my knapsack. It wasn't as fancy, but it would do.

"Want to split it?" I asked softly.

Kisame snorted at Zabuza's sharp nod. "So now you're going to take advantage of my kid sister too?"

Zabuza was too busy stuffing his face with food to reply. I had relinquished my bento to him mere seconds earlier, but he was already halfway through my grilled fish when he spoke again. "Don't act like you weren't going to do it too," Zabuza managed to smirk around a mouthful of meat.

Kisame grunted in response and crouched down to devour his own. I fished a packet of dried fruit out of my pocket to quell my growing hunger and watched the two teens communicate wordlessly as they tore into their meals. Zabuza and Kisame had an unspoken understanding of one another that I couldn't wrap my head around. Careful, respectful Kisame was the antithesis to Zabuza's seemingly harmless social ineptitude, but they fit together like a lock and key.

Something was missing though. Maybe if I waited around long enough, they'd reveal what exactly that was. A third man?

"Kasumi, did you give Mom my present?" Kisame asked, jolting me out of my thoughts.

I nodded. "She loved it. You did a great job with the color."

The gift in question had been a beautiful emerald and pearl hair comb that matched Hama's coal grey eyes perfectly. Her hair was turning grey with age, but she said the comb reminded her of her youth and hadn't taken it off for the rest of the day. I had been careful to set it out on her bedside table the night before so that Hama wouldn't be too suspicious of Kisame and I.

As far as my parents knew, we had never met. My mother thought the extra bento we had made was for Kushimaru.

"Thanks," Kisame finally said with a small smile, having finished his food, "She deserved it."

Whenever he talked about Hama, Kisame seemed to light up. I wanted to get more out of him, but he was good at avoiding my questions and anything that would get us too emotional. Kisame liked to keep things smooth and balanced, even if he did occasionally badmouth my dad. Kōjin deserved it, so I wasn't particularly offended to begin with.

"You should come talk to her today," I said casually, tucking my empty fruit wrapper back into my knapsack along with Kisame's empty bento, "Maybe say hi."

Kisame shook his head and gestured to Zabuza, "Can't. I'm busy."

I rolled my eyes. "That's what you always say. When are we going to get to train together?"

Kisame reached over to pinch me in the arm and I yelped. "We'll train together when you can hold that bead I gave you to your forehead for five minutes."

"Continuously?" I gulped, "That's impossible!"

Kisame made grabby hands. "Watch and learn, Kasumi."

I handed him the bead and watched in amazement as he stuck it to his forehead and held it there effortlessly. As the minutes ticked by, I couldn't help but inch closer and closer to Kisame. Zabuza watched us both, having finished his food long ago, with a mixture of curiosity and mild annoyance etched on his bandage-covered face.

"You two look alike," He said with great finality, "You both have big noses."

I held my breath, half expecting Kisame to either snap and punch Zabuza in the face or burst out laughing. Even though we got along well enough, I knew Kisame loved to fight and wasn't one to back down from a challenge. He was hard to read sometimes.

Instead of lashing out, Kisame simply flicked a leftover pea in Zabuza's face and grinned widely. "That's because we're family."

I brightened and scooted closer to Kisame, opening my arms. This time, he let me hug him without complaint. Zabuza just rolled his eyes, picked up the fallen pea, and flicked it right back in Kisame's face.

A food fight of epic proportions ensued. Much to Zabuza's delight, none of the peas survived.

. . .

Author's Note:

Finally, we get some more canon characters added to the mix! How did you guys like seeing young Kushimaru?

Plot points aside, I'd like to take a moment to thank you all for reviewing and following this story so far. I'd also like to give a huge shoutout to Tumblr user Tricneu for drawing Kasumi and Kisame for our brand new, beautiful cover. It's a huge honor and I am so thankful for all that you all do for me. Thanks for reading and I can't wait to write more soon!

-MSM-

PS: This was unbeta'd and I'm on pain killers, so excuse me if this is a little bit rough.