My Sister's Keepers

By this point you had completely lost track of how many days it had been since you had slept in your own bed. While your sister's room was comfortably adorned with a real mattress, satin sheets, feathered comforters and blankets; even possessing a fireplace all to its own- The onsen is the opposite. The futon is rough and lumpy, the pillow completely flat and with no give. The room is freezing and holds none of the decadence you had gotten a mier taste of, yet still yearned for. You had tossed and turned through the heavy void of night, burdened by nightmares of monstrous men and bloody wedding nights.

Revived to the waking world, you are disoriented. The moment your eyes open, confusion overtakes your senses, you don't recognize the wall you are facing. Sitting up hastily, you don't recognize the room you're in and you don't recognize the clothing that you're wearing. Panic climbs up your spine to take hold as your breathing quickens. The spacious room, the low table and chairs, the dull-dirty walls, the single window with harsh beams of sun leaking in… You recognize it finally. You also recognize you are alone.

Distracted, you don't notice that someone had draped two more of those paper thin blankets over your shaking body in the night. You stand up in your panic and pain lights up every nerve in your body, you remember with a jolt just where you are.

Looking around, you take in more of what you couldn't in yesterday's exhaustion. You catch dust floating in front of your eyes, lit by the dim light of the sun peaking in. You see remnants of last night's supper, cups and uneaten fruit waiting there. Kakuzu and Hidan had not joined you and you hadn't wanted to sit with Itachi and Kisame, luckily enough someone had taken care of that and made you your own spread with your own table.

The futons on the floor you noticed too. Two folded up, one excruciatingly neat and the other a little more haphazard. Then there was clearly Hidan's, untouched since you last saw him laying on it with his clothes and shoes on. There was none out for Kakuzu, the fourth still on the shelf. You know you're alone. Maybe they had really left you there? Either way:

Now is your chance!

You quietly but quickly move to the door, your tiptoeing feet gliding you to certain freedom. When you make it to the thin barrier you pause and press your ear to it. Sound is muffled but you hear nothing, no voices, no footsteps, no bickering. You place your hand on the nob and start to turn, but it's already moving on its own.

The door is pulled open with such force it almost take you with it, if you had been paying less attention you would have surely fallen right into the man behind it.

The man who has to duck down to even get into the room, the man that looks as if he'd eat you whole. With teeth that look as if they were made to tear right into your flesh and rip the meat from your bones. Sharp teeth that break into a big, fearsome grin upon opening the door and seeing yet another one or your plots.

“If you're going to try to escape, Sweetheart, it's best you fuel up first.” You jump away from him as quickly as you can, though at this point you know that you're probably moving in slow motion from his perspective. The chuckle that rises from his throat is husky and the vibration seems to rattle the entire room. Your knees are shaking and you can hardly stand from fear and fatigue but you prepare to fight if he wants to punish you for your attempt to run. Oh god, you pray he doesn't hurt you. “Please, please, don't hurt me.”

He shuts the door behind him, two trays balanced in one huge arm. He already knows you're terrified but he also knows that it isn't completely his fault this time around. Who could blame you, certainly not him who was used to this over the top response. Though usually people flee in terror, not try to fight him. Especially women, probably less than half his size.

“Come on now,” He attempts to sooths as Itachi has advised him, it never really lands but he tries nonetheless. “Don't be coy, you ‘er wolfing your food down like a hungry shark last night. Surely you want some breakfast.” He, unlike Itachi, is very clearly teasing. And he takes great joy in your cheeks reddening with embarrassment. Though even that can't distract him from the way a black bruise had crawled onto your swollen skin.

“What no.. Not wolfing it down, I-” You stammer, nervous but still wanting to defend yourself. You wrap your arms around your waist as if to hide your shame.

The great big belly laugh that escapes him rattles you, if you had thought the room was shaking before than this was an earthquake. He takes heavy steps to the table and moves last nights mess around to set the bamboo trays down. His arm is long enough to move everything in a single swipe. The spread on them is magnificent and makes saliva flood your mouth, he was correct in assuming you were hungry.

Kisame takes his seat and starts digging in to the traditional style breakfast, complete with all the tediously made side dishes you would help you mom with when she made them on special occasions. Even the smell reminds you of home. There's just one issue however.

You can't tell if it's some sort of trap or not, or even so did he expect you to eat at the table with him; could you get that close? Your feet stay planted where you are for some minutes and you look longingly at the food. There's even a glass of milk, what a rare treat.

“I won't bite you y'know. I have my breakfast right here, it even has plenty of meat.” He jokes but he means it, he has always had a bad habit of trying to cut tension with comedy. Usually it didn't work.

But surprising even to him you slowly walk over, hesitation laden on all your movements. You sit at one of the Zaisu chairs, and stare at his face for a moment. He doesn't look up from his meal, knowing that if he did your instincts would tell you to run. When you finally deem things safe you reach for your chopstick and start eating, making sure to go slowly to avoid more teasing.

An awkward silence floats through the air with a disquieting aura resonating. Her dreams had been mottled, jumbles of nightmares and of memories, both of which had haunted her. She had stared into the eyes of her father during the testing, trying to see if the twins were worthy of carrying an heir to save his business. The examinations were rigorous, painful, but ultimately fruitful. One twin produced a flower, the other had not. It was as if that day she had stopped existing to her father, and her sister had received everything. Deep down, as she had watched her sister leave, taken by their father, she knew that she was the lucky one.

How selfish.

Occasionally she would be struck by a deep loneliness, a depression with no reason and no treatment. She knew it was her sister's isolation, she felt it the same as her sister felt her joy, hopefully. Maybe they could find a way to switch themselves-

He clears his throat to try and make the tense fog of awkwardness that fills the room dissipate. Kisame has never been good with other shinobi, let alone civilians, and even more so women. Usually it didn't bother him, he didn't care enough about the other person's discomfort to be anywhere different than he already is. But there was something about you, and not just in a damsel-in-distress sort of way.

As you eat you stare longingly out the small window, the light has risen to rest gently on your face. Anyone else would think that the typical thoughts were going through your head, but you had proven to be everything but typical in big ways. Not once had you bargained, offered money, offered status, thrown others' lives to them in exchange for your own. Few had even tried to fight, and all before were shinobi.

He got the feeling you weren't senselessly daydreaming while staring out that window. Just as he knew what you were doing when he greeted you at the door. Briefly, your eyes darted over something through the window he couldn't see. As far as he could ever be concerned it was just trees.

There was something deeply unsettling about you to him, particularly your eyes. As he continues to watch you a cloud or a branch shifts and briefly illustrates those windows to your soul. Quite pretty, quite beautiful even. Not just the depth of color of your irises, or the dilation of your pupils; though alluring nonetheless.

It was the look of knowing that has captivated him so. The picture of having peered into some great abyss and of seeing the secrets lost deep within. The portrait of observing evil first hand and of not having uttered a word against it. A look of joining Death as it burns the world down. It was a look he only found in the most seasoned, ruthless shinobi. A look a civilian had no business carrying.

Your neck turns your head to face him but those hot coals inside your head lag and you have to drag them to meet his. He has no idea what he is doing, no idea how people act. It has been so long since he was a person, if he had ever been classified as one before having been raised in a clan specifically catered to creating monstrous shinobi like the one he is today.

Face twisting in a mix of fleeting emotions, confusion, discomfort, distrust, and fear, you all but glare at him. But he doesn't blame you.

“Look, I'm…” The words fail him, he feels stupid as you stare. “Name's Kisame Hoshigaki.” The words are stiff, like it's the first time he's introduced himself before. In a way it is. You take his hand and shake in the way you watched your father do, he doesn't clasp his hand though. Realizing that he could easily hurt you. He is the cutting edge of a serrated knife and you are the soft weaves in a blanket. Any slight movement on his part could easily catch and rip your fragile strands apart.

You say your name like you don't recognize the sound of your own voice, it almost startles you. He ponders, as he always has done. Looking for meaning in his life and his actions, and now yours. What had you seen, who had you been before they had possessed you? Are he and his colleagues really the force of evil to steal the light from those impossible doe eyes?

Was he truly the monster he had been set to be by fate? All blue skin and hair, sharp teeth, and lust for blood? Rotten to the core, with worms infesting what was left of his heart. Was he truly born the monster that his skin reflects.

That look of knowing in your eyes is back as your hand retracts and you try to avoid looking at him again. It is dangerous, familiar, carnal. You look as if you know that you would kill him if you had the power. If you had been another shinobi in front of him, and not just a helpless, powerless, woman; he would not be certain that if a fight occurred that he would easily survive.

“Where are the others?” You ask, though you aren't sure you really want to know. You take another bite and lament that your eyes cannot bore right through the table and the floor. Kisame is unsettling like Itachi. When you feel his eyes on you it feels like he knows your truth underneath the failed attempts at humor.

Kisame sees no point in lying, never has. “I know Itachi is covering our tracks and creating diversions. You have quite the posse trying to get you back. The other two… I don't really want to know what those too are doing.” The last statement has a comedic deliverance but overtones of seriousness. You think you should leave it at that.

You nod slowly in response to his words, biting your lip and looking off into nowhere as you wonder who could be following after you already. The tall man's head cocks to the side, watching you again. That was an unusual response. He runs a hand through his deep indigo hair, the strands instantly stand back at attention.

He has never been one who likes to sit idly and both of you seem to have finished your breakfast. Since you can't spar and are probably still exhausted from last night, he comes up with the next best thing.

“Wanna explore the place, this is your first time in an onsen right?” His words make your face go pink with embarrassment, you thought only Itachi was close enough to hear that. You nod nonetheless.