Nikushimi

Well, it's been over a year since I've done any honest writing, so I figured I'd give it another go. I was just recently inspired by another fanfic and wanted to try my own hand at writing once more, and I do want to see if I've gotten any better at it. This story won't be especially long, in fact, probably only a few chapters, but I want the chapters to be a little long and full of exquisite detail (this first one, however, is rather short). Also, I promised this a while back. It's a small piece about Kisame's past, and I'm doing this partly to improve my writing skills and also to see how much I've improved already.

Now, I'll try not to get too graphic, as I do hate gratuitous violence. But this IS Kisame we're talking about. It ain't gonna be pretty.

Without further ado, I present to you the story of Hoshigaki Kisame, Kiri no Kaijin (Phantom of the Mist):




Chapter 1- Kaijin


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A calm sea, a silent sky.
A flash of teeth, a hungry blade.
Indeed, a fierce storm
Approaches...



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Night.

Such a curious thing it is, a contradiction in and of itself. When the light flees and the darkness takes control, when that which lives dies... Yet in this ghostly solemnity there remains the silky, ethereal glow of a lifeless moon, as if to say even night itself feared true darkness. A true abyss, in which only one's self can be defined. When the unseen world is left to the mercy of every demon and phantasm that haunts one's mind. What greater terror exists than that which is both malevolent and faceless? When there is no word, no feeling, no recognizeable facet of something that observes you from the darkness, what can be done but to fear it? And if such a thing bore ill intentions...what could be done to stop it?

This night had started out particularly ominous, as the sky lay completely bare from East to West, North to South. The moon poured out its otherworldly light, as if defensively, illuminating the way for those who found themselves patrolling the courtyard of his Lordship, the Daimyou's fortress. Indeed, that is what it was- a fortress, armed to the roof and surrounded by guards. The only way in or out was down a dirt path that extended far into the forest, flanked on either side by golden fields of wheat that shone brilliantly on this clear night. The only other opening in the fortress was the courtyard itself, a large, open, tiled plateau that faced the sea. A lavish fountain stood as the centerpiece, trickling water at a pace that produced a soothing babble. The hour was without name, as if this were some undiscovered time, never before seen by mortal men. It was too serene, too perfect...and far too late. One of the six active guards in the entire complex sat in the courtyard, chin rested on his hand, elbow rested on the balcony facing the sea. His head bobbed up and down with the opening and closing of his eyelids, and he awoke with a start when a sharp pain bit into his right arm.

"Idiot." chided another guard, lowering his fist and casting a stern glance at the weary fellow, "Your shift ends, and you can't help but nod off a minute beforehand? C'mon. It's my turn now, so go get some rest."

"H-huh? What?" the tired man stuttered drunkenly.

"You heard me. Your shift's over. Besides, you'd just end up falling asleep and taking a turn over this here balcony if you spent another minute up here."

That last bit startled the guard awake, and with all the willpower he could muster, he staggered away from his fellow guard, allowing him to take up his position. He couldn't help but feel a little guilty, though. He could tell the other man was just as tired as he was, though he wasn't showing it. But sleep was too tempting, and fatigue beckoned him. He turned away with full intent to collapse in bed, but then, the surprised voice of his peer snapped him once more back to consciousness.

"What the hell?!" the guard hissed through clenched teeth, staring intently at a fog bank rolling in from the sea, "Where'd that come from all of a sudden?"

"It's probably nothing." the dreary guardsman replied, hoping to assuage the other's worries and indulge himself in a good night's rest, "It just looks like fog to me. We get that all the time in the Water Country, so I don't see why it's anything to get so worked up about."

All of a sudden, the fog made a beeline shoot for the complex. It hit with expected softness, glazing right over everything and dispersing into a fine haze. Instinctually, the active guard's hand was led to the kunai pouch at his right leg. With a quick glance to his right and left, he determined that no one had tried to enter under the cover of the fog. His fellow watchdog snickered childishly at this insecure display.

"Perhaps you need some sleep yourself. Maybe you should get one of the others to fill in for you this one time."

To his surprise, he was met with neither anger nor wit. Rather, a flash of pale struck across that man's face, his eyes averted beyond the sleepy guard himself. It was only a fraction of a second later that he understood why. He couldn't see it, but he could feel it. To the other guard, he could see an outline, and little more- the shape of a man, tall in stature, with some great object rested upon his right shoulder, a single foot propped up on the cement rim of the large fountain. Two eyes gleamed forth from the mist, and as the one man turned, a shimmer of pointed teeth followed. There was a sound of splitting wood and tearing flesh, and all but instantly there came a crimson spray shooting up and sparkling against the moon. The figure lowered its massive object- Had it ever raised the thing in the first place? -and issued a sadistic chuckle that carved sensations down the guard's spine. The man who stood before him not seconds ago lay torn on the ground, no longer truly resembling a man.

Then came the scream...

Hands grabbed desperately for any weapon that could be found. The guards filed one after the other into the courtyard as the alarm sounded. As the misty, moonlit yard filled with guards on each side, their eyes fell upon two silhouettes. The larger of the two wrenched back a large shadow, casting a trail of blood and flesh across the ivory tiles at its feet. The other dropped to its knees and fell flat on its face. The guards stared on in horror, preparing themselves as best they could for what they were about to to be confronted with. What greeted them from the darkness, the only thing that betrayed mutual acknowledgement, was a sharp-toothed grin...

Three guards ran quickly to the Daimyou's quarters and woke him with the utmost haste. This was much to his disliking. He fussed at first and condemned their actions, but after hearing of the situation his attitude changed completely. It was all he needed to get dressed immediately and leave his room. It was all he needed to run down the hallway and gather up his family. That one word... That word that had become synonymous with "all-encompassing death" in the Country of Water...

"Kaijin."

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Blades resounded as they hit the floor. Bodies crashed with sickening force against bare stone. One wave after another was cut down, each with a single swipe of that terrible blade. Reinforced by their loyalty to the Daimyou, half a dozen guardsmen charged forward with kunai drawn, roaring as they sprang upon the enemy. Their efforts proved in vain, as yet another swing cleaved through their numbers. The fresh batch of dead tumbled to the ground- death had been dealt upon contact with the strike, long before the brutal roll across the tiled floor. The total number of guards was now diminshed by a third of its former capacity, and those that remained began to reconsider what was worth dying for and what wasn't. Unfortunately for them, this was not a choice left to their own discretion. For those who face the Kaijin, death is a certainty.

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"Daimyou-sama, you will be safe." assured one of his guards as they stood before a horse-drawn carriage, "The entire guard force is fighting as we speak to buy us time. I promise you, we will get you out of here."

"I will see to it that your bravery does not go forgotten." the Daimyou said firmly, stepping into the carriage with the rest of his family, "You and the others will be rewarded most handsomely."

A quick glance at the faces of his wife and children bore him nothing but looks of fear and uncertainty. With a nod of his head, he stepped in and allowed the guard to close the door behind him. A few seconds passed, yielding nothing but greater anticipation. Time was limited. With great impatience, the Daimyou opened the carriage once more.

"What in the hell are you waiting fo-?!"

He fell just short of completing his inquiry. On the ground lay the mangled body of the guard, stained with a deep red that dribbled out into the dirt. Not a meter from it, a pair of feet, leading up to a pair of beady, shining eyes. All at once, the Daimyou's mouth went dry and he broke into a cold sweat. He gripped the doorframe of the carriage with trembling hands and shrunk back against the will of his stiffened body, his jaw quivering as he attempted to speak.

"N-no... Please..."

The horrific demon raised its instrument high in the air and gave a slight laugh. It was a peculiar laugh. It was neither sadistic nor maniacal, but truly, deeply, and sincerely...delighted.

With one swing, it was all over...




<To be continued.>




(Writer's Note- It helps me to picture the events of this chapter while listening to "Remember" by Disturbed. Just though that'd kinda help paint the picture a bit better and get the mood going. It works best if you start it at Kisame's appearance. :D)

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Bow to the King.

JAIF

...colorful, is the word that best describes this. I liked the way you painted out the brutal rapefest between the guards and Kisame. Also, I enjoyed the attention to detail, especially in the first part with the guards, as well as the stark contrast between it and the poetic feel in the first paragraph. Quite a good piece of work, albeit a little short, admittedly. I didn't expect the Daimyou to die so soon. As always, your strong point is your talent in painting the images you need to liven up the story. Keep this up, I want to see what happens next.

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Null

Disappointing, Nikushimi. I really expected better from you. I’m just left wanting more substance. More OOMPH.




(I felt like talking in bullshit to scare you. That was some good shit, Niku.)

NarutoFan

I wouldn't label myself as a wordsmith, especially when criticizing someone else's work, so I'll leave you with a good job.

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ultra_blade

Wow, that was a pretty good first chapter, wasn't expecting violence at the very start of the fic. Kisame is so mad, I love they way he killed the Daimyou, mad. Great work can't wait for next chapter. =D

Jonny America

It was good, highly descriptive. At points in the story, picturing the events became second nature, which is obviously a good thing.

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Jonny America

Way to update your story.

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ultra_blade

Yeah it's been like a week you know!!!

Nikushimi

Allright, here it is, the second chapter. I've decided to shorten the chapter lengths to be more like the first, so as to put them in little incriments, almost like short stories within one main story. If you guys would rather I post longer versions, let me know, and I'll either edit more into the end of this one or just make Chapter 3 extra long. In the meantime, just read and enjoy:



Chapter 2- Seven Swords


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-crunch-


The shredded remains of the man- though they bore no such resemblance -fell to the forest floor in a bloody heap. All around it, red. Everywhere, red. Red. Red. Red. Red. There was no possible way to count the dead, nor any such manner to confirm their identity as "human". The only figure still standing swung a large object out to his right, spraying a line of blood across the dirt. Dark, jagged scales protruded through blood-stained bandages along the breadth of the weapon, betraying its identity- that of the feared man-eater sword, Samehada. The owner of this terrible blade sloshed through the surrounding gore without batting an eye, no longer interested in mutilated carrion; his attention was on continuing his journey. The beady white eyes of this ominous shadow stared dead ahead as he walked, while all around him, a dense mist began to set in. After a few more paces, the phantom-like entity came to an abrupt stop, sensing danger nearby.

"...Show yourself..." the wielder of Samehada commanded in a low growl, gripping tightly around the handle of his instrument.

There wasn't a reply. A few more seconds passed, and still, he waited. Finally, he heard a twig snap on the forest floor some ten meters behind him. Moments later, a horrific figure burst from the mist, twin blades gleaming as he brought them down.

"URAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

In a flash of metal colliding, the ambush ended. The assailant tumbled head-over-heels into the dirt for some fifteen more feet before coming to stop on his abdomen. This person wore the standard gray uniform of the Mist Jounin, though there were several variations in the uniform he wore. Long brown hair draped around his shoulders, all the way down to a large black sack that he had strapped around him. Casually, the other figure rested Samehada across his shoulder, bearing its impressive weight without any signs of strain.

"Raiga." the figure growled, vexation notable in his tone, "You complete idiot. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Furiously, Raiga shot up to his feet, facing down the demon with profanities by the dozen. Strangely enough, it took only seconds for him to break down into a blubbering mess, tears streaming down his cheeks as he charged at the apparition for what seemed to be a hug. The figure politely rejected the gesture with a casual sidestep, forcing Raiga once again to eat mud.

"Do you want to die or something?"

"KISAME-DONO!!!" Raiga howled, jumping up once more to face the figure's back, "I WAS SO WORRIED!!! YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU WERE GOING TO GO KILL SOMEONE!!!"

"Yeah. The more I think about it, the more I agree with my choice." Kisame retorted listlessly, plunging Samehada down into the dirt.

Before he could stroll off to find a place to sit, Kisame found himself face-to-face with a snot-nosed, wet-cheeked Raiga, who was screaming his head off about the usual trivialities he screamed his head off about.

"IT'S NOT JUST THAT!!! YOU DIDN'T JUST KILL SOMEONE, YOU KILLED THE DAIMYOU!!! THE DAIMYOU!!! THAT GUY HAD SO MUCH PROTECTION, ATTEMPTING TO TAKE HIS LIFE IS VIRTUALLY SUICIDE!!! I WAS AFRAID I WOULD HAVE TO GIVE YOU A FUNERAL!!!"

The hysterical lunatic's words were boisterous, annoying, and steeped in loud sobbing that brought Kisame twice nigh to the point of ripping his skull out through his mouth. Luckily for Raiga, a third prescence quickly made itself known.

"What the hell is all this commotion I'm hearing? It's grating on my ears."

"Z-Zabuza-dono?!" Raiga managed to gasp between sobs, wiping his eyes on his forearm.

Standing on a small boulder above the other two, a shinobi could be seen silhoutted against the moon. The mist was parting, revealing more of his features, including the traditional Mist Jounin uniform and the mask of bandages over his mouth and neck. Strapped across his back was a large blade rivalling Samehada in size, its handle gripped by the mighty right hand of the one called "Zabuza". His eyes, small and sinister, locked directly on Kisame and Raiga, the latter of whom took a step back.

"Oi, oi, Zabuza-kun..." Kisame interceded, "Keep this maniac on a leash, would you? I'm sick of being harassed out of nowhere."

"What am I, his keeper?" Zabuza spat back, jumping from the rock and landing into a crouching position, "Even if I was, that schizophrenic psychopath needs more than a leash."

Even in the receding mist, enough light was kept out to conceal the features of Kisame. He stood a head above the other two, nothing but a horrifying shadow in the night. Yet when the mist parted further, a flash of moonlight hit the shiny surface of his teeth, revealing his mouth arched into a grin.

"Never afraid to tell me off, eh, Zabuza-kun?" he snickered, reaching out into the light to take hold of Samehada again, "Well, I have a feeling you'll give me quite a rant when I tell you what I just got finished doing..."

Kisame's hand- his skin toned a surprising light blue -grasped firmly the handle of his scaled blade, pulling it back towards him and into the shadows. It was after this that he looked up and met the newcomer's gaze with his own. Zabuza's eyes narrowed into near-slits as this happened, much to Kisame's surprise. He hadn't expected that reaction until after he had told him the events leading up to the murder of the Water Country's Daimyou.

"I know all about it." the wielder of the gigantic cleaver sword snarled, his tone deep and unyielding, "Kisame, I thought we had agreed not to cause any commotion. This is too early in the game to turn 'rogue'; our initial target was the Mizukage, yet you go and butcher another important political figure on a mere whim. Do you realize what you've done?!"

"The Mizukage's a waste of time." Kisame replied calmly, shrugging his shoulders as if to dismiss the issue, "His power's been diminishing for years. The Daimyou was the one with the real control of this country at his fingertips."

Zabuza issued a low growl, expressing openly his discontent for the impersonal and uncaring nature of Kisame's speech.

"That's true, but with him gone, who do you think has all the power now?"

Kisame fell silent. Before Zabuza's chastising glare, even the infamous Kaijin could only come to the obvious realization in silence.

"With the Daimyou dead, the Mizukage can now sieze control of everything that was his. All his resources, all his assets, and every bloody one of his men. They'll form an army and hunt you to the ends of the Earth, and if you leave us, there goes our chance at assassinating the Mizukage and taking over."

"Ranmaru!" Raiga cried, covering his ears like a scared child, "Don't listen to their horrible words, Ranmaru! RANMARU!!!"

"Would you get the hell out of here?!" Zabuza barked furiously, sending a jolt through Raiga's entire being.

"Uh...uwah..." the swordsman whimpered, his eyes watering before his voice inevitably and predictably shot up several decibels, "RANMARU!!! RANMARU!!!"

In a fit of hysteria, Raiga turned on his heels and shot away into the woods, disappearing from sight. The sound of his voice, and of the name "Ranmaru" could be heard for considerably longer, but eventually faded into the distance. Continuing after that was a long, awkward silence between the two remaining shinobi.

"...Who or what is a 'Ranmaru'?"

"You expect me to know? He's been screaming that name since the first day we let him join the Seven Swordsmen."

The duo once again observed a short period of silence. The moon poured out more of its light through the forest, the changing angle of it providing for increasing amounts of its rays to get through. The two of them couldn't help but think back on their days in that group, days that had ended only months ago. It brought back pleasant memories of endless, government-sanctioned slaughter.

"I think I might actually miss being in that little 'gang'... It was a sweet deal we had going."

"Yeah." Zabuza replied with a stoic voice, a rarity in any situation, "But you know, it wasn't entirely our choice to disband. The Mizukage would've terminated the group at some point; we were no longer necessary as part of the Mist's military. We would've been denied our love of killing, at the very best, we might've made it into the mainstream military, but the rules and regulations that are set for all of its shinobi are not limits that you or I would do well to obey. The true spirit of the shinobi is dying, Kisame. Without question, our choice was the only one that could lead to survival."

A faint gust rustled the leaves above, sending ghostly whispers trailing through the forest around them. After a while, Kisame hefted his gargantuan sword and placed it across his back, securing it on the clip around his own Jounin uniform.

"How stupid. As if I need a kid like you validating my life choices." the blue-skinned swordsman muttered with half-disdain and half-denial as he turned to leave, "Anyway, we are here. We are surviving. Whatever the future holds-"

"The future holds death!" Zabuza bellowed, stopping the complacent warrior mid-step, "Living is not enough. Surviving...is not enough. There will always be threats to our survival no matter where we go, no matter what we do, and always...always...we will have to fight. Unless we end it here and now! That is the reason we conspired to eliminate those obstacles that stood in our path! Don't you get it? If we don't crush our enemies with the whole of our might, our battles will never end until the day one of them brings death! We will never be free!"

Utter silence choked the forest in a grip of iron. Not the thinnest of leaves stirred out of place. All life seemed to have forsaken this unholy site. As the moon's light reached its utmost illumination of the woods, Kisame turned back towards his enraged cohort, quelling the man's intense glare with one of even greater imposition. His features now shone fully in the milky light of the moon above, contorted with furious loathing.

"That's why you're still a kid, Zabuza-kun." he snarled wrathfully through pointed teeth, striking deep gouges of fear in the man who stood opposing him, "You're so jaded by your own fear that you overlook the most obvious flaw in your logic: For us, there can be no survival...without battle!"

Zabuza gulped, stricken with such fear and awe that he came close to losing his balance. All at once, a terrible pain arose in his gut, and it was all he could manage to stifle the sensation and remain on his feet.

"Let the battles come. Let them send every man from this country and the next until Samehada has tasted the blood of every single one of them! You think any force, great or small, can stand in our way and keep us from our passion? They are the very fuel for that passion! To meet endless hordes of opponents and drive them to their knees... To cut through legion after legion until you can no longer differentiate between your own blood and your opponent's... This is the very definition of our 'freedom'!"

A branch shattered under the sole of Hoshigaki Kisame as he made his exit into a now-encroaching mist, leaving Zabuza to observe his fleeting shadow with pensive quietness. On the young man's face remained an expression of defeat and regret. Within his heart, within the beating heart of a warrior that resided in his chest, he felt true regret, and even contempt for his own words. A fool... That's what he was. Nothing but a hypocrite and a coward. For all the fighting he loved, for all the times he had forsaken his own life and safety to indulge in unrestricted combat, he was still only a human, and in the prescence of a true warrior like Kisame, unfit to be standing off the ground. For the first time in his life, his emotions clamped down on him like a trap, and he fell to his knees in despair...




<To be continued.>

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Bow to the King.

Jonny America

Very nice. Wasn't Raiga a filler character though? Whatever. The scene where Zabuza feels like he ran his mouth off a little too hard and got all scared gave me a chill. Perfect length btw, I don't think the chapters need to be longer.

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Eliwood21

Fantastic work. :D

I love how the personalities are vividily detailed as well as all the actions that characters performed. I expected Raiga to do more NEED MORE FUNERALS!!! talks.

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G.O.A.T.

Very nice. This needs an epic fight with Raiga and Zabuza double-teaming Kisame.

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Baylavim

I stopped reading the second chapter as soon as you started using more than one exclamation point in a character's speech. Stop doing that.

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Nikushimi