A/N: Kiri equals Mist. n.n; Though I'm sure that most of you knew that, right:D;
One-shot. I don't quite remember if in the show/manga anywhere it explains Kisame's relationship with Zabuza as more than they were both part of the Seven... x.x;
Hoshigaki Kisame left Kiri, left his home and country and people a long time ago. He'd tired of them, tired of being one of the Seven, tired of Kiri and everyone and all the discrimination and all the hate. He was leaving it all behind. Heck, whatever the life of a missing-nin brought, it had to be better than the hell he was living in when he was living in Kiri.
Kisame never returned to Kiri once, since the day he left, but one day, he did arrive – alone, without Itachi – at the Country of Water, close to Kiri.
Kisame had known Momochi Zabuza ever since he was five. That was Kisame had entered the Academy of Kiri, along with a cluster of other children. That was when Kisame had accepted the fact that he was different, and hated, simply because he didn't look human, because he looked like a shark and his skin was blue and he had gills and rows of sharp teeth. He'd accepted that easily, and didn't care about it much, because as long as he became strong and became a ninja he'd be respected and everything would be all right then.
Zabuza hadn't been different. He could've blended in with the other children easily and they wouldn't have shunned him. But he hadn't entered the Academy. He'd gone on with being an orphan of the streets and Kisame had gone on to be one of the few who ever graduated from the Academy. Only a few managed every year – after all, they were split up into a couple of groups and then pitted against each other, one-on-one, fight to the death, until only one remained alive in each group. Kisame had graduated easily.
He never really knew Zabuza then, but always noticed the small child hanging around the corners, watching him. Oftentimes he'd turn around only to see a head of black hair whip around the corner and disappear. Sometimes Zabuza wasn't fast enough and Kisame could stare at him for a few seconds before the boy had the sense to vanish behind a wall or something. If it weren't for the fact that Kisame always noticed Zabuza watching him, he wouldn't have ever noticed the orphan.
Kisame didn't do anything about his watcher, simply because he didn't care. The boy didn't look like he could defeat anyone in battle, he was so thin and ragged and tired-looking. As long as Zabuza didn't get in his way, Kisame could care less. As it was, Zabuza never spoke a word to him, except once.
"Oy," Kisame had said, calling out to Zabuza. He'd frozen mid-step and turned around to face Kisame. What Kisame had found very interesting was the fact that Zabuza was the first person to ever look at him without surprise, fear, annoyance, or derision. In fact, no emotion crossed the boy's face at all.
He'd make a good shinobi, Kisame had thought to himself. Keeping emotions dead, during missions or not, was easier said than done.
"What's your name?" he'd asked, seeing that the street urchin wasn't going to run.
There'd been a pause. It wasn't a busy street – in fact, at the moment, it was completely devoid of life, aside from them. The only sound to be heard was the distant crashing and roar of the ocean waves some ways away from them, beating against the rocks and shore as if to try and drown the island of Kiri.
"Momochi Zabuza."
And then the boy had gone.
Kisame was a chuunin and well on his way to becoming a jounin when the name Momochi Zabuza drifted past his ears again. The boy had been absent from his life the past few days and Kisame found it oddly disconcerting to turn around and not see a flurry of movement or a pair of dark eyes staring back at him. He hadn't let it bother him too much, though – he had to think of the troubles at hand, and a missing orphan was the least of his worries.
Even so, he'd immediately become alert when he'd heard the boy's name mentioned in a conversation.
"They're reforming the academy graduation test."
"What? Really? The same test's been used for the past hundred years, hasn't it? And our ninjas are the best, when compared to the other countries'…"
"Yes, but they're reforming it anyway. Momochi Zabuza? You ever heard of him?"
"No."
"Neither have I, but there's a kid by that name who single-handedly slaughtered all the graduation candidates during the test. He wasn't even enrolled in the Academy, and he was the only one left standing – not only one of a group, but only one of all the groups."
Kisame was admittedly impressed. The kid wasn't even in the Academy and he managed to kill everyone during the test – Momochi Zabuza was either simply endowed with great powers or simply very, very skilled. Either way, that explained why the kid hadn't been around the past few days.
He wasn't overly concerned with exactly how Zabuza had managed to kill so many potential genins without ever having attended the Academy. If he managed to do it, what did it matter how? All Kiri needed were good shinobi whom could complete their tasks. No one cared how, as long as it was done.
The next time he spotted Zabuza was shortly after he'd overheard the conversation. He'd been walking, on his way with his single teammate and instructor to turn in the report for the C-ranked mission that they'd completed that day. The number of students who'd graduated from the Academy hadn't been a multiple of three, because one of the groups had ended up with no winner – the last two children standing had killed each other. Therefore, Kisame's team only consisted of a girl who never spoke much, his jounin instructor, and himself.
He'd taken up the rear, and as they neared their destination he'd felt a familiar gaze on his back and paused, turning around. Kisame was not at all surprised when he saw Momochi Zabuza, shirt still torn and bloodstained, with a brand-new hitai-ate tied around his head. For once, he didn't run off when he realized that he'd been spotted. Instead, he pushed his way through the crowds towards Kisame and his team.
The silent girl and instructor hadn't noticed Kisame stop and were well ahead of him, but Kisame waited for Zabuza to catch up. When he did, it surprised Kisame somewhat to discover that the 'kid' was probably just as old as he was.
"Momochi Zabuza?"
"Yeah."
"With us now, huh? That works out fine. Hoshigaki Kisame, if you didn't know. Come on, let's go catch up with the others."
It seemed so unreal, looking at the graves. The huge sword, almost a brother to the Samehada, now thrust into the ground, never to be used in battle again. Two crosses, side by side. Underneath one were the remains of a boy who only went by the name of Haku, a boy with a bloodline.
The other cross, he knew, was in memory of a certain Momochi Zabuza.
Turning around to leave, Kisame could almost see him now, staring at his back. But this time, when he looked behind, Kisame knew that he'd see nothing but his own reflection in the sword.
He turned around anyway.