#[♣️–vdwrites]

[akatsukirites]

Songs for Ikiryo Preview

'Keep running. Almost there.' He runs so hard he tastes blood. Bodies all around him. Mud splashing on his shoes. Mud made of...

"Itachi-san," Kisame's voice shakes the past's hold on him. He realizes he's been standing in the same spot on the open road for a while. "Something on your mind?" Kisame always sounds gruff, but rarely displeased.

Itachi adjusts the sugegasa, tipping it backward so he can look across the field from the hill-road. Summer wildflowers are in bloom, blips of orange and purple in an ocean of tall grass. In the distance, a string of silver as the sunlight reflects off the river. It's not far.

"The battle of Abukuma," he replies in earnest.

Kisame raises a brow, "Oh? I'm surprised you know of it. It wasn't decisive."

Itachi lets his partner's trivia linger. Though he speaks truth, it creates a new reality to hide in. He could let this be nothing more than a passing memory of some history lesson.

"Although now that I recall," Kisame starts again, "Fire sent Uchiha troops, didn't they?"

So much for hiding.

"Yes," Itachi replies, "50 against 200 Iwa shinobi."

Kisame clicks his tongue, "Not enough against your kind."

The Uchiha were too prideful to see anything beyond a crushing, satisfactory victory.

"They were no match for us."

It was exactly what Fugaku wanted Itachi to see. It wasn't until Earth crossed the northern border of Fire that anyone realized it was a simple diversion.

Kisame turns to him, curiosity practically dripping from him. " 'Us'? You sound as if you were there."

Itachi merely flicks his eyes up at him. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"But you would've been just a child. Barely old enough to leave home."

Itachi sighs through closed lips. "Kirigakure isn't the only cruel place in the world."

"Aye," Kisame acknowledges, lips pressed in a frown. They both set their eyes on the field. Though it is beautiful, not even tallgrass and wildflowers can hide the deep craters bore unnaturally into the earth. The tree line is so obviously shaped by wielded fire. If they ventured into it, they'd occasionally find hitai-ate poking out from the soil. A little further and they'd find bald spots, patches of dirt. For too much blood sank deep into the land and nothing would ever grow again.

"A child should never know war like us, Itachi-san" he says softly. Definitively. Apologetically. With sadness behind his gruff voice. Itachi steps closer to him, trying to find comfort.

[akatsukirites]

Second entry for @sweetspicybingo - Fairy Lights Narutoverse | KisaKonan | G | ~800 words

They avoid the road that goes through Fire Country. Konoha-nin patrols are too aggressive. Even though Kisame brushes this off as an insignificant obstacle ("I can handle Konoha, Konan-san." He says, reflexively shouldering Samehada.), Konan knows a premature encounter would be unwise. ("Pein doesn't want to reveal our existence yet.") Instead, they take the long way– through Grass, Waterfall, and Rice Country, crossing the border into Hot Water Country. Konan recalls old Akatsuki scouting reports that Hot Water military is only concerned with tourists, so they stick to the coastline. Admittedly, it's a longer journey. They sleep in shifts during the afternoons and travel under a waning moon cycle. The coastline turns to sandy beaches, flanked to the south by forest.

In the pre-dawn hours, they crest a hillside. And the strangest vision reveals itself to them; a sea with glowing, blue waves. Konan slows to a halt. Kisame, following, anticipates a command. She is, after all, higher ranking. The ocean roars to his left, covering up the muffled words that Konan says under her breath. All he catches is 'of the sea'.

"What's that?" He asks, looking beyond her to notice the blue phenomena himself.

Konan turns back to him, mouth hidden underneath her high collar. She doesn't wear a hitai-ate.

"Ghost lights of the sea." She repeats. "It's a children's story– a warning about following ghost lights into the water. They say the lights are the souls of drowned fishermen."

Kisame huffs. He could slay a village full of fishermen with his eyes closed. Nothing to worry about there. But Konan's reaction is different. She turns back to the sea, taking a halting step forward; debating whether or not she has time to investigate the curiosity. The look of awe in her eyes is unmistakable, almost child-like. Kisame has been mission-focused his entire life. Sight-seeing is a luxury he's never been awarded. That was in Kiri. Now it's supposed to be different. He trots ahead of Konan, leading them to the beach. Permission is something neither of them are used to giving themselves; but the sight is too enchanting to ignore.

Glittering waves lap at the shoreline; water teeming with scrambling, blue lights. Konan steps lightly, not used to feeling sand beneath her feet. Kisame does so also, but on instinct of training drilled into him until his skull broke. He bends down and scoops up a light; feeling the soft flesh of a squid. It's tiny. Five of them could easily fit in his palm. Konan looks on with caution, thinking of poison and traps and–("don't follow them into the sea").  But Kisame seems unaffected, so she mimics him and scoops one into her hand. The animal is dotted with little blue lights, chaotically blinking at her. A cry for help?

"It must be their spawning season." Kisame guesses, before popping it in his mouth.

Konan's eyes widen in surprise. Eating a ghost-light will surely curse you, right? But the look on his face says otherwise; the opposite in fact. She looks down at her own specimen, wriggling. It slips between her fingers and swims off into the sea, meeting thousands of others. 

"You know these creatures?" Konan asks, wary.

He shrugs, mouth still occupied with the morsel. "No, but I had a good guess. They're smaller than the ones in Water Country, but they look the same." Swallows. "Tastes better though."

Konan wouldn't know. Rain Country doesn't have squid. But strangely, she trusts Kisame's intuition and appetite. So she gathers a few handfuls of them, sparkling blue in her hands. To eat such a beautiful thing seems a terrible waste. 

As if sensing her hesitation, Kisame enlightens her. "They'll probably die soon anyways."

His words do little to alleviate some harbored guilt within her.

They set up a resting spot at the tree-line, listening to the ocean carry the ghost-light squids to shore. They're too small to spear and roast; and they don't have a konro; so Kisame boils them instead. The sun pierces the horizon. It's as good as any time for breakfast. Konan waits and fishes the squid out of the pot after Kisame takes his share. She eats it whole, examining the textures between her teeth. Kisame watches her, curious to see how she finds the delicacy. It's sweet and rich; briny but not overly so. Like a fat shrimp. If he looked hard enough, he'd see her blushing. For something about to die, it certainly doesn't taste like it.

When they're done, Konan puts out the fire and hides any evidence that they were there. A habit from her younger days with Yahiko and Nagato. The beach turns into rocky coastline, disappearing behind them entirely as they approach the border. Today they make for their allies in Frost Country to resupply. If they're lucky, they'll also get clues for their mission. Konan returns to the memory of the luminescent beach, wishing she could tell Yahiko. She'll have to settle for Tendo Pein instead.

[akatsukirites]

[image description is available for screenreaders]

tl;dr: An angsty minimal-dialogue take from Nagato's perspective on Konan's behavior through their years in the new Akatsuki.

Excerpt:

Nagato slips into the Tendo path's consciousness. He expects darkness, but finds heaven instead. Slender, soft fingers idly thread themselves through Tendo's hair; caressing Tendo's cheek. He longs to greet his admirer. Rinnegan eyes crack open and bear witness to the fleeting image of Konan's unpainted lips curled into an arc, shining like the sun. As quick as he sees it, her smile shatters under horror and shame. The light retreats from her quicker than the love from her fingers as she realizes the bright sparkle of Yahiko's eyes is Nagato's instead. Hurt floods him.

He speaks to her through Tendo; cold and unforgiving. "What are you doing here?" Red beads on her lip as she sinks her teeth into it. “Leave, Konan.”

(Keep Reading on Ao3)

[akatsukirites]

Sixth entry for @sweetspicybingo - Sharing Clothes 2ND BINGO! The next three are all gonna be bingos :)))))))) Narutoverse | KisaKonan | G | <600 wrds

Akatsuki headquarters is the only home she knows other than the place they used to live at with Jiraiya. The hallways are unlit to save electricity. Something about the bills being too high or offsetting the pull for Nagato's machines. Konan finds that she doesn't mind the darkness. She stops at a nondescript door and knocks softly. Seconds later, it opens and a shadow with red clouds takes the entire space. The cloak suits him well; high collar shrouding any physical characteristics. He's so tall she can't even see the crossed-out hitai-ate. 

"Yes?" He answers in a gruff, but soft, voice.

She clears her throat. "My name is Konan. I've been assigned as your temporary partner for the mission." In a practiced, flat tone.

Kisame tenses, although she can't see it behind the layers of silk. She is a small woman, just barely coming up to his shoulders despite the wedge heels she wears. She wears no hitai-ate, but she's from Amegakure. He can tell by the way she smells– smoke and rain and wet earth. Like a bomb planted in the lake.

"My apologies." He says out of habit. "I was just finishing preparations, Konan-san."

The strong scent of nail polish remover wrinkles her nose. She notices a few fingers still have polish on them; or maybe they're freshly painted. How many times has he re-started?

"I've come to give you something, Hoshigaki-san."

He steps out of the way to let her in. The room is barren. Even though he's lived here for more than a few months, there's almost nothing in it besides his sword in the corner and a plainly made bed. A window is the only thing interrupting the pale-white walls. Although looking out into it doesn't provide much of a view– gray rain pouring down from Akegakure's skies. A variety of items lie scattered on the floor; clothes and money and maps, a jumble of cotton pads and a bottle of nail polish with the standard Akatsuki color. (Madara is such a creep. Making them all wear this shit.)

From the sleeves of her cloak, she pulls out a small, lacquered box and opens it towards him. A seal ring with the word 'South' stamped on a yellow background. Of all the things Kisame is expected to wear as his new uniform, this one is the most annoying. It'll only get in the way of his sword-hand. He looks at her, eyes demanding an explanation.

"It's a long-distance communication tool. You haven't been sent out on a mission yet so it hasn't been made for you until now. The smiths want to know if it fits."

He picks it up out of the box, careful not to smudge his freshly painted nails. It happens anyways, clumsy and inexperienced with it as he is. Kisame has never been careful with his hands. He's not used to it. He tries every finger that Konan will let him, which leaves him his left hand (except the middle), or the right index and ring finger.

Finally, he tries the left ring finger. A traditional wedding finger. Married to the job. Isn't that right? It fits perfectly. He meets her eyes, a glowing amber with nothing behind them.

"I'm good with nail polish if you want help." She offers, seeing how he'll have to start over.

Kisame pulls his hands back.

"It's no trouble."

Konan takes a step back. "Very well. I'll meet you outside when you're ready, Hoshigaki-san." Nods curtly and disappears into the dark hallway.

[akatsukirites]

[image description is available for screenreaders]

tl;dr: A young Kisame and Konan go on a mission together. notes: This was written for @sweetspicybingo Winter 2023 and is posted to their Ao3 collection. A bonus epilogue chapter is included.

Excerpt from Chapter 5: Three

Trekking through the highlands of Lightning is difficult for Konan. She's never trained in high-altitudes, nor in such terrain. Yet, she is tasked with leading them so she ignores her waning stamina, something Kisame never seems to run out of. She takes a wide step up the hill and grabs onto a rock to pull herself up. It takes more energy than she expects. Clouds of ice slip between the folds of her veil as she catches her breath; and feels the sharp coldness in her lungs. She looks out across the trail they came from and sees a light cloud of… ash? It's faint, drifting down from the mountains. Kisame catches up to her and looks up from below the boulder. Konan's hand is outstretched, catching the ephemeral tendrils of winter as they melt in her palm. She tips her head up towards the gray afternoon sky to see snowfall fluttering down in dusty specks. The veil of her sugegasa parts, spilling back a waterfall of white silk. She takes it off so she can feel the snowflakes melting on her cheeks. She never imagined them to be this soft. Like frozen cotton. 'Beautiful.' Kisame can't help but notice how her lilac hair is the strongest color in this dull landscape. Her veil drags on the ground as she stands captivated. Sensing his presence, Konan turns to him. "It doesn't snow in Amegakure," she explains, if only because she is self-conscious of her inexperience. "Does it in Water?"

(Keep Reading on Ao3)

[akatsukirites]

tl;dr: AU KisaKonan angst/slow-burn Summary: Three years after the fall of Akatsuki, Konan is left to run Ame Holdings, a small conglomerate in Rain Country. Nagato’s will and trust leaves her a special boon, protection for life. Kisame takes the job.

Supernatural Modern AU || Bodyguard AU || AU where Kisame never joined Akatsuki

“I’m sorry, sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave your weapon at the door.”

Kisame is either getting better at concealing his sanguine chakra or the brat is a complete idiot. A sadistic grin spreads across his face. He likes killing idiots and the kid looks fresh.

“He’s a Kirian shinobi.” She says so matter-of-factly. Must’ve read more than just the first page of his file. “Taking his blade would be a grave insult.” Konan puts an emphasis on ‘grave’. Indeed.

“O-oh I see, General Ame. Please forgive my rudeness.”

Konan walks through the quiet restaurant with respect normally given to mob bosses. He’s already done a sweep (she didn’t begrudge him, but he could tell she thought it was unnecessary). A quick chakra reading tells him there are no contractors or shinobi for the next two kilometers. Well, all except his boss. But her chakra system looks… wrong.

She meets members of parliament in a private room while he stands guard. They talk about investments, reparations, and foreign relations. He tunes out most of the conversation. There’s nothing Kisame hates more than politics. Then something catches his attention.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the disposition Guevara had.”

Read more on Ao3

[akatsukirites]

THWNR Outtakes: I'm Kisame for Halloween

Well this was a little bit of fun I had this morning and no beta-reader lol. Happy Halloween to all and to all a good night.

AU | KisaKona | G | 500-ish wrds

“Oh wow JEEZ MISTER! Your costume is so cool! What are you supposed to be?”

Konan stifles a laugh while Kisame, towering above this 10-year-old brat, peers below to catch a glint of awe in his newfound fan.

“How about a game?” He smirks. “If you can correctly guess what I’m ‘supposed to be’, my companion will give you a treat.”

Their eyes light up behind a cheap superhero mask. “OKAY!”

Konan readies the bag of Halloween candy. The kids have been getting it mostly right this year. Some of the younger ones just say ‘blue’.

“Hmmm….” A thoughtful finger taps their chin while they tap a foot. Truly cartoonish. Then they perk with a pointed finger in the air. “I know! A BARRACUDA!”

Kisame is stunned into silence.

“I learned about them in school! They’re long and have big pointy teeth and they’re really BIG! Like you!”

Kisame looks slightly offended. If Konan wasn’t such a lady, she’d be rolling on the floor by now. Instead she puts a light, reminding hand on his arm. The kid beams the brightest smile in five miles at Kisame. How can he stay mad at that face? Then again, Konan has always been more partial to children than him. Kisame catches her eyes, then crouches down to his costumed fan; he’s still taller than them even this low. The brat takes a few steps back. Seeing Kisame’s face closer only emboldens their wonderment. He thinks carefully about his next steps. Konan keeps her hand on his shoulders, nails digging in.

He puts on his trademark sadistic grin— all teeth. “Did they teach you about sharks?”

“Oh YEAH! We learned about great whites and hammerheads and whale sharks too! I really like whale sharks— they’re my favorite.”

That seems to be the straw that breaks the final tension as Kisame’s shoulders begin to relax. Perhaps he’s not so anti-children after all.

“Whale sharks are three times bigger than barracudas. And they can eat a whole barracuda in one bite, easy.”

Cue stars in the kid’s eyes.

“Wooooow, mister, you know A LOT about sharks! Can you come to my school?!” After their question, they pause, “Wait— are you a whale shark then??”

A whale shark is probably more demeaning to Kisame than the barracuda.

Still, Kisame is gracious enough to let that soft chuckle rumble through him. “Close enough.” And tilts his head up to Konan. “Boss, what do you think?”

She rolls her eyes at him, chiding. Then kneels down to the kid’s level. She pulls out a fist full of saltwater taffy and plops it in their pumpkin bucket.

“You’re exactly right.” The kid screams in delight and takes off immediately, yelling back their gratitude. “Close enough.”

[akatsukirites]

Excerpt from Chapter 27: 13.6

Kisame’s report is nothing short of thorough. Names, addresses, dates of birth, previous occupation, associations. She goes through the expense report, looking at locations. All in Stone Country. Considering their strong xenophobia, it’s amazing they let him in their borders. Perhaps the world has changed since the last trade war. Konan tries not to hold onto the past like it’s still the present. That’s been her worst mistake.

(She recalls hazy memories of late nights with the Deva Path of Pein; her savior, her commander, her lover, her best friend, her comrade. Pein was everything and he was nothing. A twisted version of Yahiko; the sun torn out of him and replaced with Nagato’s rage. Oh, how they grieved him. Pretending he was still there, whispering old words in his ear, feeling every chakra plug on his body with her own. The three of them melting into a fantasy of a past they can’t return to.)

She unfolds a worn map. Target locations, each with an ‘X’ through them. 'His enemies.' How could a man like that have any enemies left alive? (The same could be said for her.)

How many enemies did she make as an Akatsuki General? How many have been killed? How many have been sworn upon for revenge? Would she ever atone? Could she ever survive the hate she wrought? Bitterly, she remembers that these weren’t always her enemies. Hanzo was Yahiko’s enemy, not hers. Suna was Pein’s enemy, not hers. The council was Nagato’s enemies, not hers. And yet, here she is to take all their punishment. They left her. They left her.

She can’t take Kisame will not be another one leaving her.

(Read the full batch update on Ao3)

[akatsukirites]

Third entry for @sweetspicybingo - Family Dinner. FIRST BINGO (we're going for a blackout BTW)

Narutoverse | KisaKonan | T | ~900 words | CW: Suffocation, Implied Cannibalism

The road to Kumo is narrow, just large enough for a horse-cart to pass through. It winds through sharp cliffs; dotted with a guard station every five klicks. Even if intruders were to take the mountain pass, they must navigate a maze of sharp rocks, avoid shinobi birds and exploding tags, and counteract genjutsu traps. Inexperienced nin would certainly die before they ever saw Kumo's blue tower. This is the knowledge that's allowed to leak into other shinobi villages. What they won't tell is how unguarded their northern flank is. True, the mountains are still formidable, and approaching from the sea is near impossible due to the limestone cliffs, but Akatsuki is no ordinary group. 

Konan and Kisame circle the mountains. For miles, all they encounter is barren wilderness. Konan splits her body into three paper clones, spreading out ahead of them to determine the best way forward. She uses the sun to mark West. With a modicum of luck, they crest a ridgeline just as the sun passes the horizon and find themselves overlooking the Kumo. Both of them pause to take in the sight: blue-glass buildings wrapped around tall, thin peaks; buildings set into the sides of the mountain range; a smattering of small buildings on ground-level. Long shadows obscure the village, further camouflaging it into the terrain; except for the main tower at the highest summit. It's this place that Kisame turns his attention towards. He braces his back heel, flexed for a full sprint.

"Wait." Konan says softly, under her veiled sugegasa. "Let's try the residential area first. We'll draw less attention."

They weave through neighborhood streets, looking for a man with sandy hair and a forgettable face– and a new, freshly polished hitai-ate. The village would've replaced his other one– emblem scratched through with a jagged line. Kisame spots him first. He isn't personally acquainted with the target, but he remembers the photo from the briefing well enough. Konan confirms, just as he's sitting down to dinner with what looks like his family. A kunoichi with long, dark brown hair; two children barely chuunin age. She imagines his home is warm; dinner table set with bowls of rice and pickles, plates full of meat; their children laughing and the traitor smiling when he asks them about their day at academy. Konan cannot help but feel a heart wrenching envy as she looks on from the darkness, concealing her presence. A scene she's never had. A scene she fights for Ame to have. It's not fair that the Five Nations get to have this and her country gets ripped apart. This man was supposed to be working towards a life where all shinobi villages could have this; not just his. What a selfish piece of shit.

"What do you want to do, Konan-san?" Kisame asks this time, before rushing in to slaughter the whole family. Konan's face is hidden by the veil, so he cannot see the angry look of betrayal in her eyes.

She orders them to wait. They ascend a nearby tree with plenty of cover and a direct line-of-sight to their target. Patience is a virtue, it's said. The tenshi of Amegakure is merciful, it's said.

Konan tips her head to look at Kisame through his veil. "Do you have family, Hoshigaki-san?"

She asks plainly.

Kisame blinks back at her, offended that she would ask such a personal question. 'Don't get friendly.' What is family? The Hoshigaki line? There are few of them, scattered in Kiri, bound to different masters. Each struggling to prove themselves worthy enough to escape from their caste. Each just as violent as him. Each just as desperate as him for recognition and respect and dignity. Each just as foolish. 

"Not anymore." All Hoshigaki are born in cursed waters. "Do you know how sharks are born?"

Of course, she doesn't. Konan knows nothing of the sea except in fairy tales. He tells her that a number of eggs hatch in the mothers' womb, but only one pup emerges.

"Why is that?" She asks.

"The first one to hatch eats all the other eggs or else they'll starve."

"The mother doesn't provide?"

"The womb is the only time sharks live with the mother. Once the pup born, they're left on their own."

Orphaned. Just like us. Except perhaps worse.

"Is your mother alive?"

"Who knows?"

His mother is the sword. His father was Kiri. And oh how he hungered.

"You don't want to find her?"

"No." He answers. "Is that strange?"

Konan bites back a 'Yes.' and instead looks at him with a hardened resolve.

"If my parents were alive I would stop at nothing to find them."

Kisame's first-line coping mechanism, a malicious grin, spread across his face. "You must be human then, Konan-san." Unlike myself.

Apologetic words catch in Konan's throat. But before she can begin to say anything, the target leaves the dinner table. She watches the family begin their bedtime routine, studying them with envy. Is this how families behave? It must be. (Later, she will force this on Nagato and Pein and not know why it feels wrong, even when they do exactly as she asks.) Konan waits until everyone is tucked into bed and asleep.

The traitor-Akatsuki is not surprised when Konan appears at his bedside. He opens his eyes and sees the Angel of Amegakure come to whisk him to death. She looks down in half-disgust, and holds her hand up, sheets of paper peeling off. Kisame has already drugged the woman next to him to prevent her from intervening. Then he holds the target down while Konan's paper wraps around his face, suffocating him. Kisame neutralizes his thrashing by absorbing his chakra to the point of death. There is a choking sound, followed by saliva soaking through the paper. 

Then, stillness.

[akatsukirites]

THWNR Outtakes: Double-Check

Double Drabble

This prompt comes from drabble_zone Challenge #371 - Tell the Truth. Crossposted on Dreamwidth.

“What do you think? Too much?” Konan turns sideways, posing. The open back of her dress stops just above her sacrum. It’s a halter neck; sleeveless; and endlessly black. Kisame’s eyes dart between not-Konan’s-ass and Sun-Hee, who makes a discerning face at the dress. “I don’t think it’s too much, ma’am.” Konan flicks her eyes; dark eyeshadow highlighting their amber color. “Kisame?” He stammers, “I-I think it looks great.” Konan clicks her tongue, irritated, “Not it’s look— can you tell I’m armed?” He’s forced to analyze the dress, scanning her waist. The length of the slit comes up to her thigh. It’s tight and holds every curve of her form just perfectly. He clears his throat. “N-No, boss. Can’t tell.” Konan shifts again, facing the slit to him. She takes a step forward, widening the gap. “How about now?” The slit climbs higher, causing her kunai-holster to peak out. Something in his face tips her off. Konan huffs and moves it to her other leg. “Now?” She takes a few experimental steps as Kisame looks deeper, watching for a metal glint between her thighs. Then, he nods. “Can’t tell now, boss.” She smirks, satisfied. “Good. Let’s get this over with.”

[akatsukirites]

Chapter 33: 18

Konan preps the forceps.

“Hold still.”

She doesn’t expect him to wince. In fact, she’s sure that if Kisame were shot in any other place, he would’ve taken care of it himself. The bullet makes a dull sound as she plops it into the aluminum pan. Kisame lets out a quiet, relieved sigh.

“Hand me the disinfectant.”

Blots some on a cotton ball and wipes away most of the blood. Red. Of course, why wouldn’t it be.

“Needle and thread.”

Trades him. In Konan’s practiced hand, the stitch is quick and clean. She ties it off and slides his shirt back down, noticing the sound of scratching as it falls.

“All good.” Pats him on the shoulder. “Get that looked at when we get back.”

(Read the full batch update on Ao3)

[akatsukirites]

Last entry for @sweetspicybingo - Fireworks!!! Happy new year bitches BLACKOUT BINGO!!!!!! im so proud of myself lol Narutoverse | KisaKonan | G | ~700 words | CW: PTSD response

It's not the flare. Konan has seen flares before. She shot them in the air yelling 'RETREAT!' until she lost her voice, signaling the second advance squad to pull back to the recall point. It's not the plunging thud of the cannon launch. Nor is it the whirring of the rocket as it shoots into the sky. It's the boom. Deep and echoing through the ravine as they cross on a wide bridge. Booming once, twice– she hunts down where the explosions are coming from. When she finally sees the origin of the sound, it's one of the most awesome things she's ever seen. A bomb in the air raining down starlight.

Her heart tells her otherwise, screaming that she's in danger, pushing blood and endorphins to her muscles. Even though it is clearly not a flare in a place where it is clearly not raining and they are clearly not at war. At least, not today. Yet, her body reacts nonetheless; mouth agape and pupils dilating. Her foot pulls back into a defensive stance as paper starts to roll off her clenched fists.

Kisame knows better than to intervene. In Kirigakure, shinobi who were afflicted with this … condition … wasted away in the slums; unfit to be useful. In his youth, he made the mistake of confronting one of them only to get the shit beaten out of him. In such a state, she might also mistake him for the enemy. Although he admits Konan is a formidable shinobi, he'd rather not kill her today.

Instead, he looks up to the sky and says simply, "Fireworks. … Probably for the New Year." Keeping his attention on the display.

Konan's eyes dart between Kisame and the 'fireworks'. Not flares. Not bombs. Fireworks.

"I guess you wouldn't see them in Rain Country since, well, it rains all the time there." Kisame huffs in irony. 

Meanwhile, Konan reels herself back to the present, starting with sliding her foot back into place. Calls her paper back to her; clutches her heart and takes deep, shuddering breaths.

"I've seen them in Water Country before." He continues, "Was on a mission to the daimyo's manor. Stupid old man loved shit like that. Real flashy. … But they're very effective distractions when you need them. Just walk right up to the target and–" He pulls his finger across his throat. It's a story in poor taste, but it's all he has.

Konan wrings her hands, trying to play along. "Is it…Are they… expensive?"

He shrugs to reply. What does he care if the daimyo spends gold on stupid toys? Not that there was a daimyo left once Kirigakure installed their puppet.

"I see."

Another firework launches into the sky, its flame illuminating the outline of a thin cloud. It booms and crackles, followed by a second explosion that slipped past her observations. Even if she knows they're just some expensive decoration, her body seems to not care. Every cell tells her to run. She grips the railing of the bridge trying to steady herself.

"Have you ever spent much time underwater?" He asks in a casual manner. Of course, the answer is no. The only time she's spent underwater was before they knew how to catch fish in the lake with shinobi techniques. But she is fond of a warm bath and knows that when one sinks beneath the surface, all sound gets washed out. Kisame walks up to her. "May I try something, Konan-san?"

She looks up at him with suspicion. "What is it?"

"A bubble. Just around your ears."

Konan nods, wincing as another firework explodes across the sky. He stands behind her and weaves. SnakeRamHorseRabbitRamHorse– holds a hand to the sides of her face. He pushes out a small water prison on each ear. Easy to make and easy to control. A strange weightlessness comes over her. Like vertigo, only less nauseating. The next wave of fireworks rain down on the horizon. In purple and silver flowers; in different shapes and sizes. They are nothing short of miraculous. And blissfully, it is silent. She can't hear a single thing. Not even when she says softly, "They're pretty."

'Yes, they are. But–'

"Not more than you, Konan-san."

Kisame knows she can't hear him, but he says it anyway.

[akatsukirites]

Eighth entry for @sweetspicybingo - Hot Bath !!!! OMG JUST ONE MORE TO GOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Narutoverse | KisaKonan | G |~1000 words

Konan wades through 100 cm snow drifts, ignoring the radiating pain in her legs. They're only in Frost Country and it's been six days since they set out. They'll never make it back in time. She'll have to cut through Fire Country. Konan plans five different routes while Kisame silently follows. Although her cloak and hat reveals little of her condition, Kisame is certain that The Pace Is Slowing. And even if Konan knows that, she can't stop. If she stopped, she might not be able to continue. Instead, she pushes chakra down her legs, trying to get the blood moving quick enough so she doesn't freeze. 

"Konan-san," Kisame calls out, voice dying in the snow. He repeats it until she turns her head back, stopping in her tracks. "We should find someplace to rest."

The pause in her step was a mistake. A dull ache stings her thighs.

She snaps, "Why, are you tired?"

The edge in Kisame's reply feels like razor wire.

"If you keep pushing yourself, you're going to die." 

Konan rolls her eyes. I can't die. Yahiko didn't. I won't either. He'll find a way to make me useful. "We're not stopping."

('Make sure she comes back alive, Kisame.'

'If she can't handle herself, she shouldn't go at all, Leader-sama.'

'Konan is more capable than you think. She just doesn't know when to stop.')

He draws Samehada for emphasis. "Yes, we are. Or do I have to cut your legs off and carry you myself?"

Konan's voice drops to a dangerous whisper, gritting her teeth. "How dare you threaten me." She takes two steps towards him, readying herself for–  But she trips on a rock beneath the snow. Her gait falters and before she can pick her other leg up, she hits the ground, succumbing to a blissful darkness.

Kisame wants to roll his eyes at the pathetic display but instead he sighs and picks her up, lightly smacking her cheek– cold and delicate. The haze in her copper eyes tells him that the blood dripping from her nose is unlikely to be a concussion. Just pushing her chakra reserves too far.

"Don't fall asleep out here." He says, unceremoniously throwing her over his shoulders. Samehada whines for a fresh body. Kisame half-growls to it, making sure it knows not to leech what remains of her chakra stores.

He returns to the main road. With some luck, he finds an inn that will take a mysterious fish-man and his seemingly-kidnapped bride. Despite that, it's annoying to deal with the innkeeper's stares; and more so when he asks for two rooms. Nevertheless, the old woman says nothing, not that Kisame gives her any room to question him anyways. All he says is,

"Bring tea. And draw a bath."

Konan doesn't protest when Kisame finally sets her down. She gathers what's left of her pride and arranges her things until he shoves a hot yunomi in her hands.

"Drink." Gruff, but covering something else up.

The tea is shit, but it's warm. The inn he found is shit too, but it beats making camp in the snow. The innkeeper brings them food, a simple bowl of oden that brings her focus back. She expects Kisame will scold her, but he never does. The bamboo screen slides back again to take back the dishes; a gray head bowed low to the floor. The woman tells them the bath is ready and in deference, Kisame gestures for her to go first. 

To her surprise, the bath is scented with jasmine oils. One of her favorites. It's scalding hot, penetrating her calves with a wonderful numbness. If she just concentrates on the heat, she can almost make the stinging in her legs disappear. She sinks into the wooden tub, humoring herself with the idea of relaxing. The thought doesn't last long.

"You can't interrupt a woman bathing, don't you know that!?" A clamor outside the door and a slap against thick fabric.

Outside, Kisame wrinkles his nose. 

The old woman, seeing the look of confusion on his face, slaps his arm again. "It's not proper!" She grabs the clay jar out of his hands. "Give me that." Scolds him and shoos him away. "Out! Out!"

Kisame's heavy footsteps fade down the hallway. What is it he meant to give her? Moreover, she'd never heard of it being improper to interrupt her bath. Yahiko and Nagato did that constantly in their youth. Perhaps he is also used to such camaraderie. The innkeeper clears her throat and opens the door.

"Madam." She says politely, looking down and holding the jar out. It's no bigger than the tin of miso Konan carries in her supplies. "Use these salts in your bath. It'll help soothe any aches you might have."

Grateful, she takes it, and smiles when she opens it. Inside are odorless, white flaky crystals of magnesium. She dumps the whole jar in. Normally she uses this for Nagato when he's sore from the machine. He says it helps, so perhaps she can also find success. Time passes. Gradually, the pain subsides. Whether it heals or simply masks the symptoms is a mystery to her. Konan is no medic-nin, no matter how much she patched Akatsuki up. (Come to think of it, Akatsuki has been without a proper medic for quite some time.) She thinks perhaps she's not cut out to do these kinds of missions. Maybe she should concentrate her efforts more at home. Maybe she should follow through on her promise to Yahiko that she would look after Nagato. He's supposed to be the bridge to peace, isn't he?

Yet, there is so much outside the electric walls of Amegakure. Places where it never rains. Places where dreams illuminate the sea. Places where she finds refuge, even in a howling storm, and for once– doesn't have to look after Nagato. Soon, she'll be too old to marry, not that she wants to anyways. Her intention is to remain at Nagato's side until death. 

Right?

(And when that happens? What then?)

The mere idea that Nagato would leave her too is unsettling. She shifts her mind to easier topics; her temporary partner for instance. Cold and brooding, much like herself, keeping to himself. Good at taking orders. Good at sweeping her off her feet when she's too tired. Bad at making tea.

Yet, in all of this, perhaps both their shells are starting to crack.

[akatsukirites]

Seventh entry for @sweetspicybingo - Coffee (third bingo! only two more to go for blackout)

Narutoverse | KisaKonan | G | ~700 words

How Akatsuki disposes of the dead is not a concern to Kisame the way it is for Konan. After they kill the Kumo-nin, she wraps the body in a paper shroud and lights three sticks of incense before Zetsu comes. Even traitors deserve proper rites; or at least the rites she can spare. After the affair is done, she teaches Kisame how to perform the transmission jutsu so they can report mission-status to Pein. He congratulates them on a job well-done and asks if they can accommodate a second mission on their way back. (Konan knows by now that there is no room to refuse.)

This is how they find themselves entering a dark, wet cave in Hot Water Country. The strong smell of salt and limestone envelop them in a thick, humid blanket. When they reach the shore, it's pitch black outside. One can hardly see the schooner tied to a hastily-made dock. The skeleton crew of five is easy work for Kisame– not even worth his blade. He drowns them in the sea before they even notice he's there while Konan goes through the captain's things.

The schooner is a light vessel, carrying no more than twenty crates and lit only by three oil lamps. A horse-cart and a donkey are tied up, braying as Konan unties the beast. It runs off into the night. No sense in taking something that'll only slow them down.

"How much does Leader-sama want us to take back?" Kisame asks, surveying the crates.

"He didn't say." She answers as she finds a crowbar to pry one of the crates open. Cotton bolts. There's five crates full of cotton bolts. She finds five more loaded with silk. Pein wants them to sell this? Kakuzu must be on thin coffers if he's asking Akatsuki to rob some poor merchant.

She hears the sharp slam of a crate top behind her. Looking behind, Konan sees Kisame recoiling, lips curled back in disgust. Something he found? Perhaps the cargo is unusual after all. She opens a canvas bag and finds small, fragrant beans. Dried? Dipping her hand in, they sound like heavy grains of rice as they fall between her fingers back into the bulk.

"Hoshigaki-san, come here. Bring another lamp."

The additional light doesn't solve the mystery. They look like adzuki beans. But adzuki beans don't smell like this; warm and bitter.

"They're coffee beans." Kisame offers. (Konan is getting tired of not knowing so many things outside of Amegakure.) "Something from the west. The daimyo like it."

Ah, so they're illegal beans.

"This whole shipment is probably going to one manor."

She leaves his side, examining the other crates. Books in English. More cotton bolts. Then, she happens upon a crate that hasn't been properly shut. The one Kisame didn't like? Konan pushes the top aside and digs through the straw. Her hands meet something rough. She hangs the lamp on a post and brings it up. Another bolt– something like leather but with more scales. The texture is fine and sandy. What is it they use to wrap katana hilts with?

"Sharkskin." She whispers to herself, realizing what it must be from Kisame's reaction.

Kisame returns to her after he's done with inventory. Five bags of coffee beans. Two crates of books. Eight crates each of silk and cotton. He looks around her and tells her, "Three crates of shagreen." Even though none of the crates have been opened.

"What do you want to bring back, Konan-san?"

There's no argument in her mind.

"Ten kilos of coffee, five bolts of silk, and as many books as we can carry. Bury the leftover coffee, books, and silk. I'll send for it later."

"What of the rest?"

"Sink the rest."

A look of quiet relief pans across Kisame's face. He does as he's ordered while Konan sorts through their plunder. Later, when they're eating at camp, he thanks her.

"What for?"

"The shagreen is worth more than the whole ship. You knew that."

Yet she ordered him to dump it. Konan blinks and settles her mind, breath coming to a quiet pulse.

"My comrades are worth more than shagreen."

Kisame looks at her in shock. Unable to reply, he simply goes back to his meal. If she looks hard enough, Konan swears she can see him smile.

[akatsukirites]

Medicine for Dying Men

This prompt comes from drabble_zone's Challenge #372 - Grind

KisaKonan | 200 words | No warnings

It’s the kind of day when sudden noises bring Konan’s attention forward and— danger, even if it’s just soft jingling of the shopkeeper’s bell. She swallows her panic before lifting her head towards the entrance. “Ah, Konan-san. I didn’t expect to see you here.” It’s the kid’s partner. What was his name again? She wasn’t on the recruiting team for either of them. His name comes to her as she politely nods her head. “Hoshigaki-san.” The old shopkeeper returns with Konan’s shopping list of medicinal herbs; tossing them on the scales. “Same as usual, Konan-sama?” He asks, eyes bleary despite their honed skill. She confirms and thanks him while he prepares the ingredients into a fine powder. He pauses to acknowledge his other customer with a waved hand. “And for you, Hoshigaki-sama; the same as well?” Kisame gives a grunt of approval. The shopkeeper pulls down yanhusuo, lovage, and wutou. Herbs used for pain control. The formulation is almost the same as hers. Sounds of the pestle drown out the awkward silence between them. “Are you harmed?” She asks, quietly meeting his stormed eyes. He holds her in regard before simply saying, “No.” and then “Are you well?” “I’m fine.”

[akatsukirites]

My first entry for @sweetspicybingo - Huddling for Warmth Narutoverse | KisaKonan | G | ~800 words

Kisame kicks down the door to an abandoned shed in the high foothills of Lightning Country. He breaks it apart for firewood, breath coming out in foggy clouds. With nothing to stop the snow from blowing in, Konan covers the opening with sheets of paper. It does little to insulate from the cold. Bright daylight filters through the paper, allowing her to strike some flint with her kunai into the gathered tinder. Kisame leans his greatsword on the wall behind him. He sits in the cramped space, cross legged; opposite of Konan, knees drawn up to her chest. The fire crackles, threatening to go out. Konan tucks strips of paper between the embers to encourage it.

They've been on the road for three days now, hunting down an Akatsuki member who leaked information about an upcoming attack to Hidden Cloud. It's a thorn in their plans, as it was their way to flush out another rogue shinobi Pein's had his eye on to recruit. Kisame volunteered to go on the mission. If they had members to spare, Pein would've assigned Kisame a partner. But since Akatsuki (the new one under Madara's advisement) is still in it's early days, Konan was selected to accompany him.

The woman isn't used to leaving Rain Country. In the coming years, she will travel to Wind Country to recruit Sasori of the Red Sand. But this is not now. She shivers underneath the thick cloak, biting down to keep her teeth from chattering; staring into the fire, eyes low. The wind beats against the thin, rotting walls of the shed.

Kisame takes note of Konan's waning stamina, dividing the estimated time left on the mission against their resources. Pein wants them back in four days, traitor found or not. The trail suggests they'll keep traveling north, but Kisame is no hunter-nin. Outside of Water and Fire country, he's too unfamiliar with the terrain to know what the best route is. However, unlike Konan, Kisame is used to the cold. In fact, this storm has nothing on northern Water Country blizzards, where they sent him to train after his 'graduation ceremony'. It was almost like they were trying to kill him on purpose, even after he did all that slaughter to his own classmates. He throws another piece of wood into the fire.

"Konan-sama, we should make an opening for smoke."

She nods and points her fingers at the makeshift door, peeling back the top few inches. What little heat they lose is easily made up for with the fire. But the storm doesn't seem like it's going to die down anytime soon.

The wood pile begins to dwindle as the hours whittle by. Kisame starts to ration the planks; one piece each hour. The current count means the fire should last about 20 hours. Surely the storm will be over by then, or at least light enough that they can travel again. Perhaps he can find firewood outside. While he debates traveling outside, Konan sets up provisions, heating up miso paste and dried whole bonito in water. She throws in a few handfuls of rice and sets the pot over the fire. She portions it out to him and says,

"If you eat something, it'll keep you warm."

Kisame takes the bowl and quietly thanks her. It's their third day together and he's somewhat gotten used to eating meals together. Except for the sharp memory of Miru asking for the same thing. If this is all it is, perhaps he should've said yes. It's not like they talk or anything.

It's a simple meal; one that Konan has eaten a thousand times. Having white rice and miso is a blessing she can never forget. Kisame is also used to simple meals. Kirigakure was only ever about function. Miso is something new to him– delicious. It flavors the rice and emboldens the taste of bonito. He briefly wonders how expensive the seasoning is, since Konan keeps it so close to her in a pouch on her belt. What's more is that she's right; it does keep him warm.

As the fire dies down, Konan inches her way closer. She'd like it to be warmer, but doesn't protest Kisame's rationing. The night comes. At some point, she falls asleep; and by the time she wakes up, the firewood is all used up. Kisame's eyes are glazed over, steadily keeping watch. She feels a tinge of guilt for letting him go without sleep, but if he wanted to switch, he should've woken her up. He flicks his eyes in her direction, acknowledging her presence.

"It looks like the storm is over." He says, gathering himself. Konan extends her observation outside the shack to confirm his report while Kisame slings Samehada over his shoulder. She nods and takes the paper door down. Today they pick up the trail.