You pissed me off with that cheery attitude of yours. You annoyed me with how open you are and how loud you can be. Your stories were dull and uninteresting. I hated you and I know you felt the same way when we met. I was a cocky brat to you. But you had every right to think that about me. I brushed you off as a mere brainless, savage brute. But then I saw how much killing innocent, helpless people sickened you. I saw the rage in your eyes and the sadness and guilt. You have always been an open book.

I remember the first mission we went on together. It was almost Christmas and some how, you'd seen passed my mask and into my soul. You saw how broken up I was about having my baby brother spend Christmas alone. I had stared at the fire, I hadn't noticed you'd left until you sat next to me, grocery bag in hand. You handed me a box of dango, saying to not get used to your niceness. You had left my side after that and soon we went to bed. Later that very night I heard you talking to something. It was the first time I'd heard your voice completely calm. No anger, joy, humor, sarcasm, or even that faint sadness I often heard. Your voice had been as monotone as mine. After a while, I could finally hear what you were saying. It was an old song, one you said your parents sang to one another. You called it "How You Remind Me". I liked how you sang it, but I didn't say anything.

Eventually, I started to watch you more, see your face and who you were. I learned a lot. I learned you love Spring because of the flowers, which are some of your favorite things. I learned that you could hear what Samehada thought, I also learned Samehada is a she. Your facial expressions are thing I will never grow tired of. You've always been so expressive. Your eyebrows furrow when you're confused. You bite your lip when nervous or scared. When you're happy you like to grin, showing off your pointed teeth. You snarl when you get angry. On our journeys, I learned you hate shark meat(not surprising, in all honesty.) and you adore crab. I learned so much that I wondered... How much had you learned about me?

After about a year or two, I started opening up to you. It started as a brief smile every now and then, then it went to a short chuckle. You eventually saw me cry. I remember that day very well. We'd been walking to a hotel to stay in for the night. But we didn't make it because I'd managed to catch a cold. You'd sighed and picked me up and carried me to a cave. You lit a fire and bundled me up and did your best to keep me warm, not caring about your own well being. It hadn't been until you'd wrapped me up and lit the fire, did I realize just how much damage had been done to you because of me. Huge, gaping, bleeding wounds littered your arms and torso along with many, many scars. And you bandaged the wounds as though they were nothing. I broke and cried. Your head had snapped up and you stared at me for a few seconds before rushing to my side.

You held me in your lap and coddled me like a small child as I sobbed into your chest. You asked what was wrong. I told you I felt guilty for your injuries and you had laughed. Your laugh is music to me. Like loud, booming drums. You had laughed and told me it was your own fault. Ever since then, I've been more open with you. I smile, laugh, cry, and express my anger around you. I yell, I scream, I pout... I'm me around you. What's even better is that you don't have expectations of me. You let me do what I please. You don't try to keep me in a box, and you say it's because you know that feeling all too well. You let me be myself and I let you be you as well. You're different from everyone else. For some reason, you're the one person I can be open around. You can laugh with me and... I trust you. Even now, walking beside you back to our room, I feel safe and that I can trust you. What you've done to break down my walls, Kisame Hoshigaki, I'll never know... Just keep doing it.