Chapter 4: Kojin (1)

A flash of lightning. A clap of thunder. The downpour echoes in the distance. In this small clearing, there is no rain. In this small clearing, there is only cold wind and even colder bodies. Kisame watches as the samurai lifts her sleeves and ties them back like those noble fighters he'd seen during his time as a Swordsman. She does this quietly, methodically, and he wonders again how a samurai could find their way into the Akatsuki and why.

"Shall we?" She asks as she finishes tightening her sleeves.

He feels giddy. He hasn't been asked that in what feels like decades.

"Any rules?" He asks in response, because he still has respect for bouts like this.

"This is just a simple spar, Hoshigaki-san," she smiles, "let us try not to kill each other."

Try?

He laughs.

"Best of three?" He suggests.

And she smiles wider, "Best of five."

He feels Samehada thrum in anticipation. It's out for blood, it's hungry for violence.

"Best of five." He agress, "When you're ready."

She nods, readying her stance.

It's been so long since he'd last seen a samurai's initial stance, even longer since he'd last witnessed it himself. Her movements are fluid and sure. Her eyes are closed. Her mouth is tight. She's breathing slowly and evenly. He knows she's gathering chakra to her arms and feet. If she's going to fight like how he knows a samurai would, she's going to aim straight for his hands to disarm him.

She leans forward.

He steadies his footing, not grabbing Samehada just yet.

She tightens her grip on the katana.

He breathes in—

She opens her eyes.

—and breathes out.

She charges.

He breathes in again, grabs Samehada—

She disappears.

—and slashes downward.

Damn!

She is fast, but he expected that, and he expects her to attack from above—

He blocks the katana with Samehada's edge.

—but she attacks from behind instead, and cuts the smallest bit off.

One.

She moves back, and he laughs when he turns to see her holding up the katana with both hands.

"Sharp." He comments, noticing the drops of blood on the ground.

"Samehada truly is alive," she huffs, "it's… amazing."

He's heard his opponents call him and Samehada many things, foul and terrifying things, but never a compliment. He can tell she's excited by the way she looks at it, by the way her eyes are glued to it. And he's getting excited too. It's not every day that one gets to spar with a samurai.

"Wait until you feel it," he chuckles.

He makes the next move before she does, swinging Samehada towards her. She moves back, strikes the face of Samehada with the blunt edge of her sword. He swings it again, she evades. She delivers a quick jab, he blocks it. He spins, she ducks. She cuts, he jumps.

He hasn't been in a swordfight in so long, and he can tell that she hasn't either. Fighting with shinobi is all pomp, with elements and summons, that he hadn't really missed the bare tactics of kenjutsu. There aren't many shinobi who'd openly fight him without any secret techniques. But then there's her, a samurai, equipped with only the barest techniques. The barest and the best, as he used to believe.

She cuts a single scale of Samehada, and he can hear the sword scream—

Two.

"Heh," he chuckles as she catches her backward step, "you might actually win."

"You are too kind, Hoshigaki-san." She tilts her head to the side, listening.

A single thunderclap echoes around them and the electric scent fills the clearing.

"It's going to rain."

The sound of the downpour rushes closer.

He snorts, gauging her reaction, "Wouldn't want to catch a cold now."

She chuckles in reply, "It's just a little rain, isn't it?"

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She looks at him then, knowingly. And he looks back. The rain comes crashing down on them. Lightning flashes up above. This time, they charge together. Samehada comes to life. Kunishige starts to sing.

Above them, lightning.

Ah.

He laughs. She does too.

Sparks, if one can call it that.

Kunishige sings to the beat of the rain. Samehada howls to the sound of thunder. It's a conversation only swordsmen like them understand.

Still, he wonders if she truly does find enjoyment in this, knowing that he is criminal, that he is beneath the samurai's noble principles and teachings. No, he doesn't wonder because she is already here, treating him like he is no different from her, like they are the same. Maybe she's been branded a criminal. Maybe she is one.

He doesn't know what he'd think of her if she is.

"Will you mind me asking, Hoshigaki-san," she asks with Kunishige held to her side in a neutral stance, "how do you find the rain?"

She's joking. No, she's distracting him, using a tactic only children would use. So he scoffs, laughs, but charges at her all the same.

Samehada laughs along with him, still thirsty for blood because water can never satisfy it. He doesn't know whether to believe her story about the Isonade, but he knows that bloodthirsty beasts and monsters exist. The literal kind. Beasts and monsters like him.

"Better the rain than the heat," he says, smiling with his teeth.

He's a monster, see, with his inhuman features and his bloodlust.

"You are stronger in the rain," she notes, evading Samehada's reach, "how interesting."

He doesn't understand why she's so interested on the blade, is she after it? Is she a collector? But the referred to him and not Samehada, does she find him so interesting? Is she one of those types who cut open something to see how it works? Does she plan to do that to him?

He can laugh at the idea, but then she does a quick step, something he'd never seen a shinobi do before, and cuts another scale off Samehada.

Three.

The single scale flies upward into the air, and she uses that momentary lull to charge straight at him, to use the full force of her might to throw him off guard and force Samehada to taste the dirt, the mud. And he lets her because–oh, what is she going to do?

Out of curiosity, he lets her.

The blunt edge of Kunishige snags on Samehada's scales–

And Samehada lets her too.

–and it forces the sword upward and out of his grasp.

"Hoshigaki-san,"

She is close, very close; he can hear her, he can feel her breathe. Samehada falls to the group behind him. Where had she gotten that strength? Had she been hiding it all this time? Was she holding back before?

"Look, listen."

Rain and thunder, he doesn't know what to look at except her eyes. Like steel, he thinks. Like steel, they glimmer with the faintest hint of sharpness, the smallest promise of bloodshed. No, she wasn't holding back. This isn't her true strength, this is just a sudden burst, a quick shot of energy and power. She is not any stronger than him. She is not any better than him.

Behind him, Samehada growls, hungry. Before him, Kunishige whispers, coy. Above them, rain, lightning, thunder.

She doesn't look up and neither does he. The space between them feels sharp, solid, pointed. Like steel. Like a knife. Increasingly cold and increasingly difficult. Tense. But which one of them holds it?

"You have sharp teeth," she says under her breath, "I might cut myself if I was close enough."

She smiles. Her hair sticks to her face. Their clothes stick to their bodies. A thought flickers briefly in his head, but he refuses to let it linger. Then she jolts back as if struck; maybe she had the same thought too. Maybe one of them should act on it. Maybe he should stop thinking about it.

He picks up Samehada easily, the mud doesn't stick to its skin, its scales, its teeth. The blade itself is missing three scales, but they will grow back. One of the best things about living weapons is that there is no need to sharpen them, they only need to feed, and Samehada is hungry for blood.

But the fight is over. Best out of five and she's won. He swings the bulk of Samehada over his shoulder, hearing it groan. When he turns to her, she is standing with the blade of Kunishige turned downward. She does not make any other movement.

"Would you consider that a test run, Hoshigaki-san?"

He makes a sound of amusement.

"You really want for a fight?"

He can hear Samehada grin.

"If you will allow me," she gives a slight bow, "I wish to see what else the Isonade's skin is capable of."

He is sure she is one of those collectors, one of those lunatics who'd do and give anything to find out if a so-called mythical treasure is real and then have it for themselves to attempt to compensate for everything they've done to get it. Why is she in the Akatsuki, then? Surely the Seven Swords isn't what she's after, the samurai have hundreds of legendary and mythical items. Maybe her blades, Kunishige and Kuninobu, are legendary in their own right.

"Seeing's just half the fun," he sneers, "wait 'till you feel it."

There's a small quirk on the side of her mouth.

"I shall see, then."

She readies her stance, and offensive one this time, and he barely gets Samehada off his shoulder when she rushes forward.

Above them, the storm continues.

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