Chapter Text
Arranged marriages between clans weren't very common in Kirigakure.
It's not that they didn't happen, more that it was normally used as a last resort for important issues such as forming peace treaties; even with the end of the Warring States era, there were some clans who still looked down on each other. It was a symbol of two factions putting aside their differences in the name of unifying their clans for the chance at peace.
However in this case, this betrothal was a show of good will between two clans of Kiri who are very friendly with each other and wished to unite by wedding the two youngest to each other from birth-introducing them and letting the courtship progress at the two's own pace as they didn't wish there to be resentment between them.
The clans were Hoshigaki and Momochi. They were two of the most well known amongst the world of shinobi and whose lineage was known for training the deadliest in Kirigakure. Legend is they both were of relation to the ancient Samebito, yokai who were hybrids of men and sharks hence why many of them had features such as gills, mouths full of sharp teeth and for some the very eyes of a shark.
The people of Kiri-civilian and ninja alike-knew of this arrangement. It had become major gossip that the pair who were betrothed had grown up together.
They have been inseparable for as long as the moon has controlled the tides.
As far as they were concerned they were close even when they were small and the worries of adulthood were far, far away from their minds. Even the children of shinobi were blind to the horrors of this world, having their minds fed by tales of glory and legends that were made during the great wars. He remembered how it felt to use sticks as fake weapons, the pure fun they had as they would play out those very stories in a time when the future of Kiri seemed much brighter.
He was two years older than Zabuza; when they first met, he was a toddler who had begun to have teeth and the Momochi boy was but a baby who still nursed from his mother's breast. Yet the moment he was able to walk they both practically stuck together with the younger holding on to the older toddler's hand and keeping close to him. It was honestly such a charming and heartwarming thing to witness between them as they became older and the affection between them grew.
Well...Kisame liked to think it grew.
He was a tall boy, even by genin standards, having had a growth spurt after his twelfth birthday. It's something he was rather awkward about even though he knew that it was normal for those in his clan to be rather tall; especially those who have presented as alphas.
It made his father hopeful that his son would present as such. Kisame didn't much care for what his presentation dynamic ended up becoming; only that he was going to become a powerful shinobi one day and that he would be marrying Zabuza of the Momochi clan-although he was also concerned when he heard about Zabuza being kept from going to the Academy yet.
He couldn't understand why. Zabuza despite being younger by two years was very gifted in swordsmanship as seen when training with their parents and each other.
"Uuuuugh..."
Kisame looked up from the porch he sat upon, dressed in a navy yukata with little turquoise sharks sewn into the edge of the sleeves as he had his legs crossed. In his hands was one of his father's swords that he had been in the middle of cleaning, currently on the wet block as he was letting it rest. Approaching him, in a pair of dark grey hakama pants and a white haori with the Momochi clan symbol on the back; a red peach that was stabbed through with a sword.
Zabuza's brows were furrowed as a vein had popped in his forehead while his mouth set into a rather miserable firm line. Just by his expression alone, Kisame knew he was in a bad mood as he sat down with a heavy thump beside his future spouse. Carefully he takes his hands off the sword he's cleaning and turns to the other with a raised brow and his head tilted.
Shark-like eyes blink slowly at him before he lightly poked him; it earned him a small growl as Zabuza's lip curled to show his sharp, uneven teeth underneath. Onyx eyes snap to him as he gives a sharp huff before he slowly moves closer to him. He wouldn't admit it but that small action made Kisame feel a little flutter in his chest. He wrapped his arm around him with half lidded eyes.
"You look like you swam into a bunch of anemone."
"If by that you mean am I getting sick of my father not enrolling me in the shinobi academy yet despite being able to lift the broad sword? Then yes," Zabuza growled quietly, "Stupid, stubborn old man...just because we're not a rich clan, thinks I need to take longer to get in the academy."
Kisame gently rested his chin on his shoulder as he listened to the other curse and vent about the unfairness of being held back while others his own age were already progressing and would soon be graduating the academy. He didn't know why it made a difference that Zabuza came from a poor clan while Kisame came from a clan a little more well off enough that he was selected instead of having to take a final exam.
Another growl leaves Zabuza as he then grabs at his own hair and pulls on it with his lips set in a grimace, "It's not fair that you're already graduated in a squad while I'll just be stuck behind you! It's bullshit! You and I were being trained at the same time, in the same skill set, and yeah you're two years older than me but I am literally excelling in my training!"
It was taking every fiber of self control not to burst into laughter. He can't help but find his expression of frustration so endearing; it's something he could never not laugh at even when they argued.
They were two kids, best friends and each other's future. They knew each other so well that in the eyes of strangers it was a no-brainer why they were arranged to be married the moment they both are over the age of eighteen. For now though the pair were friends who were allowed to spend time alone without the worry of a chaperone. Not yet anyways.
For now they are kids who haven't presented their dynamics, just enjoying each other's company while sharing their worries, fears and hopes.
"Well you know Zabuza, if you're as good as you say then it shouldn't be a problem for you to break into the final exam and take it," Kisame poked his side with a lopsided grin, "Just try not to get too carried away with passing and don't get caught by the proctors, you tend to be a little loud on your feet."
"Oh shut up, it's not like you're any better. Your sword is too long and drags on the ground!"
A cackle left Kisame's lips as he tilted back his head, "I used to drag it on the ground until I stopped sheathing it at my hip to start putting it on my back!"
Zabuza rolled his dark eyes before he looked towards the wet stone, his expression becoming unreadable as his bangs cast a shadow on the top half of his face. The laughter died down before the taller boy nudged his side with his elbow and then lowered down a bit so he can look up at the other.
"You know there's a rumor that this final exam is specially made for those from poorer and lesser clans for a reason. I don't know what reason that could be but perhaps your father is trying to buy a little more time so you're completely prepared. Though I think you'd be fine; we always end up in a tie when we spar after all."
He swears with how close he is to Zabuza's chest he hears his heartbeat skip as he offers him a more genuine smile. It was true; despite being older, Kisame couldn't beat Zabuza and vice versa. Even being trained by their parents and the difference in their swords, people wondered how they two managed to keep ahead of others who challenged them yet neither could ever outdo the other.
"...You really do think that, huh?"
"Well considering you and I have been playing swordsmen since we could both walk, yeah. You're shorter than I am and are able to lift that big sword your father makes you spar with."
"Bigger than yours," Zabuza murmured before he yelled when he's pulled into a headlock and then feels the coarse knuckles rubbing against his scalp unpleasantly but not painfully.
Kisame huffed, "Just because my sword isn't that monstrosity doesn't mean I can't wield a large one! After all, I'm going to become a member of the Seven Swordsmen one day!"
"If they think you have the skill!" Zabuza reminded him, "They only select the best off the best for each sword! If they do pick you they'll give you the lightest one in weight, probably Nuibari," He grunted as he was released.
"Oh come on, not that one, are you kidding me? You've seen me with threads, I'd end up too caught up in making sure they didn't get knotted."
"True. Then which one would you hope to get trained for if one of them noticed you?"
For once, he grows quiet at Zabuza's question. He turns his gaze to the mangroves that surround the Hoshigaki compound; the roots reminding him of gnarled cages as the shadows of fish dart beneath the water's surface beneath the large porch they sat on. The silence between the boys felt heavier than the fog that fell around these parts of Kiri, the mirth between them earlier completely disappeared.
"...Kisame?"
"...Samehada," His voice was barely a whisper when he said it, "I want to wield Samehada."
It was the most unusual and powerful of the Seven Swords; it was alive with a hunger for chakra be it from its wielder or the enemies it's used to bring down. It was the deadliest yet the most difficult to master and thus made it harder to find a successor for it. Though even with the fog slowly becoming thicker, he saw the look of disbelief on the other's face.
Zabuza looked as if he wanted to say something, yet when he opened his mouth nothing left his lips.
"..Kisa-"
"We should head inside before the fog gets too thick. I doubt your father wants you returning back home in this," he stands up suddenly, effectively cutting him off and picking up the sword he had been working on earlier, now preparing to store it away. He would finish cleaning at a later time when he could better focus and hopefully his father wouldn't be too hard on him.
He looked back at Zabuza, gaging his expression; how he looked off to the side when he realized he was in his sights and then scratched at the side of his neck rather awkwardly before he sighed and blew some air up to get his bangs out of his eyes. He can't help but feel a sense of disappointment beginning to bubble up from him the longer that the younger boy kept quiet.
Maybe he shouldn't be surprised; rumors spoke of how difficult such a blade was and how it has become harder over the years to find a suitable shinobi who can use it.
"...Yeah, okay," Zabuza walks past him into the house though when he paused to wait for the other to close the door he turned his head to the side, "...For what it's worth, Fuguki-sama would be a fool not to give you a shot at wielding Samehada."
Kisame was grateful he had his back turned to the other as he felt the tell tale warmth in his cheeks that gave away that he was blushing.
Mainly because hearing that from Zabuza made him unbelievably happy.
...
It was a few days later, and he still felt that happiness that swells so warmly in his chest. Maybe it was seen as childish for him to be acting like this, especially since he was supposed to be focused on their current task; to stand watch at the Northern border to ensure no one was trying to infiltrate Kirigakure. It was at most a B ranked mission; meaning it was still important, but not high risk.
He was sitting and watching the sun reflecting off the surface of the ocean; their post being a small hut with a table, a latrine and four futons, their rations carefully stocked up against the wall beside the door. He and his teammates-two other genin-were currently taking a breather as their sensei was out checking their traps; for both intruders and game to cook to save on their rations more.
Kisame watches the waves crash down softly against the sand outside as his eyes are half lidded as he is completely lost in his own thoughts.
"Kisame-kun?"
"Are you good?"
"I don't think he can hear us, Mei..."
"Of course he can, Juzo, he just probably is lost in his thoughts again. Kisame!"
"Kisame-kun, wake up or Ao-sensei will come back and kick your ass!"
He jolted out of his own head when he got a flick to his temple; turning with a growl towards his teammates; Mei Terumi and Juzo Biwa. He and Mei were in the same year while Juzo had been held back a few times-for what reasons he didn't know, however he's sure if he had failed again the academy would have surely kicked him out-and was the oldest of the three genin.
"What?" He huffed at the pair of them.
Juzo snorted as he crossed his arms now, his short hair held back by his headband an earth pinecone shade as he had a large broadsword on his back. He too was also trained in the way of swordsmanship. Mei smiles at him with her long pretty dark crimson hair and her soft green eyes, looking radiant despite not being all prettied up like in their academy days.
"You were daydreaming," the kunoichi rests her elbows on the table and cupped her chin under her hands, "Were you thinking of something? Or perhaps someone~?"
Kisame narrowed his eyes before he averted them while resting his chin on his hand, "That's none of your business."
"We're on a mission, you know, to watch the border?" Juzo sits down across from him at the table, arms crossed, "Yet you don't seem to be keen on focusing on it."
"It's the border with the least amount of breaches, only suicidal or insane people would attempt to try and sneak in from this area."
"Whatever you say kid..."
"You are only two years older than me and Mei, Juzo!"
"I know, so shouldn't you be calling me senpai?'
"No."
"What do you mean no?!"
"The day I call you senpai, is the day I retire from being a shinobi."
Mei giggles as she listens to them both bicker, sitting down in the third chair and watching as they continue. Despite how often the two of them have such sharp retorts for each other, they worked well as a team when they were required to fight. She was so used to them trading verbal barbs at this point that when they weren't it was considered worrisome.
"I bet you were thinking about Momochi-kun~" She giggled, wiggling her fingers at Kisame, "You really do care about him a lot don't you?"
Kisame turned to Mei now, ignoring Juzo's grumbling about 'ungrateful kouhai', and he immediately schools his face into a neutral grimace, as not to give away anything, "He's my betrothed, and he's been my best friend since forever. Why wouldn't I care about him?'
"Well most people who are betrothed either want nothing to do with each other, are simply civil, or are doing it for purely peaceful reasons. To a lot of people in Kiri you're both a special case. Am I wrong?"
"Mei-"
Juzo cuts him off with a snort, "You mean Zabuza? He hasn't been enrolled in the academy yet has he? I'm a little surprised, the Momochi have some pretty skilled swordsmen, despite not coming from a high classed clan."
"So? It's not like he's past the age limit to enroll, he still has two years to do so."
"Yeah, but can he learn everything he needs to pass the final exam for those who are low born? I mean granted he's pretty talented," Juzo hummed as he leaned back in his seat, "I shouldn't be surprised if he passes the final exam with flying colors, but at the same time he would be at a disadvantage."
Mei has gone quiet when the final exam is brought up, as Kisame notices she turns her face away from them. It's one of the few times he's witnessed her grow quiet and like some of the other times it was because the Final Exam was brought up. He knows she comes from a family in the lower class, so she was made to take the exam. If he's honest he believed that having such extra measures for those born in poor families was a stupid rule.
If anything, he's seen those born on the streets having more skills than those in the high class and if he's being honest those born in privilege should be taking it too, but alas he is a Genin with no authority.
"...I can't blame your betrothed's father for hesitating to enroll him."
Kisame almost jumped out of his seat when she spoke, having been settling into the quiet and once he processed what she said, he couldn't help the sudden need to be defensive, "Hah?"
"I'm just saying that the final exam is...it's a very brutal test. Many students have died during it and those who pass...they aren't the same again," she slowly tugged on her fingers, wringing her hands as she spoke. Her eyes were staring off at no particular point as if she wasn't completely present in the moment.
"..What do you mean?"
"I mean that they expect us to kill anyone and everyone; friends, peers, it doesn't matter. Once it starts everyone is a target and only those still standing at the end pass. It's...brutal." Mei isn't looking at either of them as she averted her eyes to the ground and now she was anxiously cracking her knuckles while slowly motoring her leg.
It was unnerving to witness her like this. In all the time he's known Mei, he's never known her to lose her calm even when faced with a difficult task on their missions. He knew the test would be hard for anyone...but was it really as bad as she was making it out to be? Zabuza was skilled but as Kisame thinks more about it he can't help the worry that grips him.
"Well...of course it's going to be brutal," Juzo says finally, "It was designed by the Yondaime Mizukage to ensure that those of no significant bloodlines can become stronger and prove themselves worthy shinobi of Kiri. If you survive then that means you were meant to be the strongest. We are called the Village of the Bloody Mist for a reason."
"Ahem."
The three genin jump, all turning their eyes to the door. There stood their sensei with his powdered blue hair, a cover over his right eye as earrings with special kanji inscribed on the tags there. He had a stern, strict air about him, adjusting his green haori as he walked to them.
"Such matters do not concern you three any longer. We have a job to do and no time to dwell on things out of our control," Ao rumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest, "I don't want to hear another word on this subject while guarding the border, understood?"
"Yes, Sensei."
Kisame bit down light on the inside of his lips as his thoughts swam around in his head like fish in a bowl, swarming over one thing as he tried to hide the sudden spike of anxiety.
it shouldn't be a problem for you to break into the final exam and take it.
He shakes his head, trying to disperse the uneasiness as he remembered the words he spoke to Zabuza days ago. Surely, the younger wouldn't take it to heart, he was smarter than that. The Exam wasn't even until the start of summer when the air was at its muggiest and made the mist thicker at night.
For once he gives a quiet prayer that his best friend was smart and wouldn't risk his life just to prove himself to his father.
...
From a very young age, Zabuza can't remember a time when he didn't wish to be a swordsman.
His mind was filled with stories and legends by his parents, hanging on to their every word about the swordsmen who served Kiri with deadly precision and great loyalty. He remembers the first time he held a real sword in his hand to train with, remembers the excitement when it connected with Kisame's and sparks flew off. The joy at holding the weapon and being able to match the other's skill despite the two years between them.
The euphoric high alone after lasted him days, especially sharing in it with the one person he was closest to.
However as the time passed, the frustration at not being enrolled into the academy began to put a damper on any joy he felt from training and sparring. He was only eleven, yet it felt like something burned in his blood every time he had his sword. He couldn't place it, but it made him unreasonably angry whenever he's denied the chance to enroll.
It was becoming too much for him to contain...he needed to do something...to prove himself to everyone in Kiri that he was meant to become a legendary swordsman, if not one of the Seven Swordsmen like Kisame wanted to be.
This drive, this obsession is what drove him to break into the office of the academy. To check the roster for the test, to see where and when it takes place, who the proctors are and how long it would last. He needed to know everything so he could slip in unnoticed by the proctors of it.
As the days grow warmer, as the spring begins to fade to welcome in the summer season he finds himself becoming jittery. He can't keep his hands still, his jaw and teeth were aching the closer he gets to the exam date. It felt like each minute between now and then was an eternity until finally it's the night before. It felt as if he's been possessed as he grabs what he can for it; rations from the kitchen, kunai and his broadsword from his father's weaponry, the standard shinobi wear that academy students wore.
Yes he was prepared to head out...but not before he left something important.
He sits quietly in front of his window, slowly slipping a small scroll between the cracks in the window, slowly peeking in a moment to see the one person whose opinion mattered most to him. He felt like there were waves of softness rushing through when he saw Kisame; in a sleeping yukata with short sleeves as he lay on his stomach and kept his hands under the pillow. His hair was down from its usually spiky style-he must have gone to the baths-as his lips are parted.
It made the eleven year old smile at his thirteen year old betrothed, sleeping soundly. For a split second Zabuza has second thoughts about doing this; mainly because if he was caught or if he failed it could have a deep impact not just on him but on his best friend too. He didn't want Kisame to suffer if he made a mistake or if he couldn't prove himself worthy of the title of shinobi.
..That's not going to happen. You committed to this because you know you will pass. You'll show them all!
He huffed quietly and sneaked one last glance at Kisame before he turns to make his way towards the academy.
The only way he was failing the Final Exam was if he died out there.
...
Ever since that conversation about the final exams, Kisame noticed something different about himself. How he started to itch along his neck, jawline and temples, how he would feel a phantom pain in his lower stomach when he was moving to adjust his position or trying to just roll over in his sleep. It was obnoxious, but manageable when he takes a painkiller or just rests after his missions.
Until this morning that is.
It felt like the summer heat had somehow crawled under his skin and was completely overwhelming his body when he woke up to the light of dawn slowly shining in through the window. It feels like his thoughts are swimming through molasses as he slowly looks around his room, trying not to be irritated by the sound of the birds outside.
Normally it wasn't this easy to make him annoyed-working with his squad mates has helped him build up a lot of patience-so to wake up like this wasn't something he's used to.
Slowly Kisame pushes himself up and staggers over to the window to let some fresh air in so he could at least cool down a bit-a hiss escaping him when he feels his jaw, back, hips and thighs hurting at the same time. He breathes heavily as he pushes the paper windows open to breath in cool morning air.
Something clattered to the floor and slowly rolled up to bump against his foot. With a dazed grunt he looked down and then crouched to pick up a small scroll and as he rubbed his eyes he hisses when it just causes a headache. Immediately he backed away to be back in his futon so the light wouldn't give him a further headache. When he is sure that his headache had lessened enough to allow him to read he unrolls the scroll.
Hey Kisa
If you are reading this, I've decided to take your advice.
Wish me luck. I hope when we see each other I'll be a genin.
Zabuza.
"..." He squinted his eyes for a moment. His mind was so fuzzy that it was hard to make sense of what he was reading, the words seeming to swim on the page as his gums started to hurt terribly. He hissed as he pressed a hand to his mouth before it hit him.
He scrambled for the doors to the hallway to push his bedroom door open with a renewed sense of urgency-
"Hhrrrk!"
-that was quickly overwhelmed by the pain that ripples from between his legs, then spread to his inner thighs as his legs give out. He wheezed and ended up face planting on the floor while digging his nails into the floor. He had no idea what was going on with his body, or why the scent of shark skin began to fill the space around him. What he does know is that Zabuza was being reckless and his body has turned against him!
"Kisame?!"
A loud grunt left him before he turned his head towards the call; seeing his mother there.
The omega man with long, wild, ebony hair tied back in a ponytail, the same marks along his cheeks that showed where his gills were, and his skin like dark iron takes in his son's predicament a moment. He had the same shark-like eyes his son inherited, assessing the situation as he hurried over. He sniffed the air before he grimaced and helped Kisame to his feet.
"M..Ma..."
"Come on, we need to get you back in your room, now before anyone else smells you."
"Wait...!" Kisame hissed when he attempted to stop him, only to be cut off by a sharp groan of pain.
"Kisame, you need to get into your room now, and close up the window and doors. You are in no shape to go anywhere."
He grunted as he found himself being laid back on his futon, looking up at his mother as his eyes began to go out of focus. While he wasn't a shinobi like the rest of the clan, Shachi Hoshigaki was still a strong omega. He was a talented fisherman before he met and married Kisame's father as he carefully pushed some of the soft blue hair from his son's face.
Kisame gasps when he feels that pain from between his legs again, trembling as something wet soon drips down between his legs that makes him shudder.
Shachi blinked a moment...then he took a slow breath.
"Ma..."
A grunt escapes the tween when his mother puts his hands on his son's shoulders and gently coaxes him to lie on his back.
Once more he tries to speak up, to tell his mother what he's just discovered when he feels like his abdomen is both burning and being stabbed with a metal rod as he squeezed his legs together to try and ride it out. He rolled over then to curl up on his side while banging his fist against the hard floor in a vain hope that he would be able to somehow beat out this pain with another.
"Hh...hhhwhhaaaat's going on...!?"
Shachi took a slow breath before he picked up his son's blanket to gently dab at the sweat on his face, his eyes half lidded with sympathy as he watched his son trying to handle the pain.
"..You're presenting, Kisame."
A weak noise leaves him before his face is wiped again, trying to process what his mother just said to him. As he tries to breathe, he can now smell the sharp spicy scent of mace that intertwined with the aroma of shark skin that made his eyes water a little.
"You're presenting as an omega."
...
No one really understood why when the final exam was brought up amongst those who graduated it was met with rather negative reactions.
With how the academy teachers would go on they would think it was the highest honor to be able to pass it. They stand there out in the exam area where walls of concrete with a metal mesh acting as a ceiling over them as the mist leaked through into the stadium. The fog here was thicker than any that they have been through that would make it harder to see what was coming or who was coming at them.
The young bloods there stand with an air of anxiety and anticipation that was as heavy as the mist around them, the proctors all standing at any weak spots to ensure no one tried to run and escape as well as to make sure no one interfered from the outside. The tension could easily be cut through as peers stand together with no idea of what they are meant to do.
He could feel something inside him shifting and changing as he stood amongst them; left unnoticed and unbothered as everyone here assumed he was a part of the class. Or perhaps if this was a duel they believed he was going to be easy to defeat and earn an easy passing since he was younger than the majority.
"Future Genin of Kiri," a voice spoke up, loud and commanding as it broke through the fog. A man's voice though the owner of it couldn't be seen, "Today is the day you prove your worthiness to become fully fledged shinobi. From now until sunset while you are in this dome, anyone and everyone is your enemy and to become a shinobi; you must fight, either to the death or to stay alive long enough to see the end."
Voices of the young girls and boys there to take the exam rose up in a panic.
"Wait wait to the death?!"
"That's crazy, no one said anything about dying!"
"This can't be right! It can't be! Please someone say this is some joke!"
"Sensei said this was a final exam not a death match!"
Their voices go over Zabuza's head as he takes a moment to process what was said. What this exam entailed, expected from him and the others. He can just feel all the discontent as the tension spreads and grows.
To the death...this final exam is a fight to the death... He slowly reached over his right shoulder where the hilt of his sword was that his father always made him train with. The broad sword that earned him many looks of curiosity and concern alike since it was almost as large as he was.
A part of him started to think that perhaps he had bitten off more than he could chew doing this. His pride and his desire to prove himself had gotten him into a very, very deadly situation. He started to think perhaps his father had been right not to enroll him in the academy...
That's when he snapped back to himself when he heard some of the others start to cry and shout at the proctors; his blood beginning to pump as he slowly turned his attention to them. How they are all trying to find another way out of this, their voices like iron nails being scraped down the insides of his skull. His head felt like it was pulsing hot blood as the people around him began to rush forwards. It felt like the times he would fully submerge himself in water as a child, with Kisame beside him as they tried to see who could hold their breath longer.
He remembers how he could hardly hear anything, no matter how they would try to yell under water.
Then he was jarred from the depths of his mind when a few suddenly charged past him, pushing his shoulder to get him out of the way as they disappeared into the mist before the scent of copper and something warm splattered across his face. It drips over his lips as he opens his mouth, allowing a drop to drip into his mouth as he blinks slowly.
Blood. He was splattered in blood.
It felt like there was a beast that woke up from the back of his mind as he pulled his sword from his back and slipped into a stance like it was second nature. Excitement began to flood his veins, overriding any doubts in his head about doing this.
He's going to show them. Show all of them! Show he was destined to be a shinobi, show them he can pass this, and shove it in his father's face! To prove he was as strong as any fully fledged shinobi!
Even if he has to slaughter everyone in this stadium. He ran forwards while following the scent of fresh blood in the air and as he braces himself for the violence to come he had only one thought before his mind goes blank:
I can't wait to tell Kisame...!
...
The last few days felt like a fever dream.
In and out of consciousness between bouts of pain rippling through his hips, back and thighs as the changes to his anatomy were taking place. Warm wash cloths are placed upon his forehead in an attempt to get the fever down, there were also moments he could hear his mother talking to him while cleaning him up when he sweated too much.
He was given something to chew on, to alleviate how much his gums hurt as old fangs fell out to let new ones grow in. The air in the room was stale, however with this being a very private matter for him, no one dared to let anyone but Shachi and other omegas in their clan enter for when one presents it was a vulnerable time where they were rendered helpless. Plus, alphas tended to stress out presenting omegas even if they were another parent or a sibling it didn't matter.
When the fever finally breaks and his jaw stops aching he felt like he just woke up.
Kisame groggily lays on his side, blinking his eyes slowly as he takes a moment for his mind to catch up to him. One of the few things he remembers was being in pain, though now it has finally faded to a dull ache as he manages to move on to his side without wanting to rip open his abdomen and tear out the cause of this. The fatigue pulled a noise of frustration from him as he attempted to push himself up.
His arms were shaking, even though he knew he wasn't down that long. He wants to sit up and see what is going on as he tries to ignore the sweat, blood and...slick stains on the sheets, shivering in disgust when he feels it on his thighs. He hated how it felt, how sticky it was as he looked around.
The first thing he notices is there's a lot of pillows around him; scented by his mother as well as a stack of five clean blankets. There were also some robes as well, uncleaned yet as they too smelled of Shachi with the comforting scent of sea salt and oranges. Kisame pulls them to him slowly and breathes the scent in with a soft purr that leaves him.
"Oh you're awake?"
He blinked and looked over groggily as his mother entered the room, dressed in a simple dark green yukata, barefoot as he sat down slowly beside his son's bed. He offered a soft smile as he watched Kisame tighten his hold on the comfort items. It almost felt like he was looking into a mirror before he crossed his legs.
"Good. Now that you got through the worst of your first preheat, you should be okay for a while," Shachi gently ruffles the messy blue hair, "Your scent notes are very unique as well," he chuckled when his action earned another purr from his only son, "We'll need to air out your room before Zabuza comes to visit you."
Kisame snapped his head up at the mention of Zabuza, his memory returning like a sledgehammer to the spine. He dropped the clothes and immediately stood up to look around.
The scroll, where was the scroll he left for him? He needed to go and tell someone!
"Whoa, whoa, easy," immediately he felt his mother's hands on him, one holding his shoulder as the other took his hand, "You just spent the last four days in bed..."
"Four days...? But...but then...The final exam...!" he grabbed his mother's arm and looked at him like he witnessed the dead coming back to life, 'Ma, the final exam...Zabuza...did he-"
Shachi took a slow breath and closed his eyes and for a moment Kisame felt his stomach sink. Had he gotten seriously injured? Was he hurt?! Dammit why did his presentation have to start before he could bring someone the message?! If Zabuza lost a limb or by the beard of the Sage, ended up with a life threatening injury-
"He's fine. A little shaken but he is fine physically," Shachi pats his shoulder, "He's currently taking some time to recover from it before he's given his genin headband."
The moment of relief is quickly overshadowed by the shock on his face at his mother's words. It takes a minute to sink in as he stared down at the floor for a long moment...then he takes a slow deep breath and swallows thickly. Zabuza, without being enrolled in the academy. had passed the final exam with no idea of what it entailed. How did he do? How did he survive so many fighting to the death?
He slowly is sat back down as he processes all this new information. It's wave after wave of emotions all swirling in his head like a whirlpool.
Relief, shock, anger, disbelief, concern...
It was so much at once he didn't register being moved from his room until he's being led into the bathroom; the large wooden tub was filled with warm water and amongst it he could smell the rose oil that was poured in along with some lemon grass as what remains of his sleepwear-he had removed the bottoms at one point during the haze, due to discomfort-is taken off him. It was a relief honestly due to how gross he felt right now.
"You'll get a chance to see him soon," Shachi calmly uses a bowl to scoop up some water and pour over his son's head, "His father told me he was asking for you when the proctors found him."
He sinks down slowly until the water touches his nose, hoping it muffles the purr he made at hearing that.
Now all he had to decide was what to do when he would see Zabuza; hug him or sock him in the jaw.
...
Everything was moving too fast.
When it felt like he was about to catch up, suddenly he's somewhere else with no idea what's going on. It's been like this for the last week since he took the final exam, been found and brought back home. He doesn't even seem to hear when he was being yelled at or react when his shoulders were grabbed and he was shaken. His body seemed to move on it's own while his mind was still back there.
Hearing the soft gurgle they made as their last breath bubbled from their lips. Feeling the blood all over himself from each swing of his sword that met tender flesh. Smelling the mix of their viscera and blood that would have made a lesser man vomit, yet a boy who hasn't presented yet was able to push through it like it was nothing. What he saw through the fog was flashes of figures who were just targets to be taken down.
He didn't feel human even after bathing, getting clean clothes and having his chosen weapons put away, sitting in the quiet and letting it wash over him.
It wasn't until a new scent wafted under his nose that he realized he wasn't alone now. It was enough to jolt him, especially that sharp, spiced scent that seemed to get through the haze before a hand landed on his shoulder.
"Zabuza?"
The voice pulled him out of the loop of memories as he jumped slightly, completely taken off guard before he looked up slowly.
There is a simple navy blue yukata without sleeves and his hair down instead of pushed back by the headband. There was something different about him, something he couldn't exactly place.
That didn't matter though. What did was that Kisame was standing over him and he just jumped up and wrapped his arms tight around the other with a shaky breath, closing his eyes as he found the source of the sharp scent that had reached him before, and then realized that it was joined by another that he recognized. The scent of shark skin.
"You crazy jerk..." Kisame hissed as he returned the hug, "Crazy, stupid jerk...the hell were you thinking huh? You could have died, you know that?"
He chuckled a little as he released a quiet breath and felt as if he had a weight lifted off his shoulders, "I do now...and I still passed...heh."
"Brat...stupid brat..." Kisame pulled back and offered a weak smile, "If I wasn't so busy presenting, I'd have gone to chase you down and drag you back..."
"I can tell...your scent is different. Like two things...heh. Omega huh?" Zabuza tilted back his head to look at him, a tiredness on his face unbecoming of a boy his age, "i like it. It suits you well, Kisa..."
Kisame blushes a bit, the thirteen year old rubbing the back of his head; the instinct to comfort the other and sooth him strong as he then rests his chin on his head, "...Apparently, Yondaime Mizukage was very very impressed with you and is going to instate you as a genin."
"Good."
It wasn't the reaction he thought the younger would have; after all he knew how much Zabuza had been so frustrated at not being allowed to be enrolled yet and here he was at eleven years old now being rewarded with skipping the academy and becoming a genin.
"...Kisame?"
"Hmm?"
"...Whatever they tell you about what happened at the final exam, please don't listen," He murmured quietly.
He didn't care what anyone else would think of him; his parents, the Jonin, the Mizukage or even the sage himself. The only person in this world whose thoughts mattered was the one right here.
Kisame blinked at him, tilting his head before giving a small smile.
"I won't."