AN: So here it is. I finally managed to scrap enough courage to post my first fanfic in this site. First, I want to tell you guys that, as this is my first try ever, it won't be the best work out there, nor it is meant to be. In fact, this story has been inspired by numerous Naruto self-inserts I've read and loved, including, but not limited to, Dreaming of Sunshine by Silver Queen and her small series called Reincarnation Roulette, Iryo-nin Kasa by Vaengir, Mirage of Kaleidoscopes by SucreTeen123, Senkei by XxZuiliu, Shadowed Sun, Chipped Mask, Rotted Rowan and Decaying Bluebells, all by Darkpetal16, Clearing Mist by shadownumera, Déjà vu no Jutsu by Vixen Tail as well as Supernatural Crossover Girl's various stories about Naruto SI, all of them as incredible as the others. All those stories and more can be found in my favorites list and are the ones that inspired me to create my own. If any of the authors above is reading this, than please, let it be known that I admire your amazing work and hope you will enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed reading yours.

And now, on with the show. I present to you…

Summary:

A nameless girl trying to figure out who she is…

She dreams of lights and screams. She dreams of water and cold. She dreams of blood and death. Sometimes she is Elyse, sometimes she is a simple orphan girl from Kiri, and more often than not she is no one. But when she meets the man who claims to be her Father, she knows this: she will do anything to become strong, so that she will always be able to follow him to the end of the world if that's what it takes. Or that was the plan anyway, until she meets a shark-like boy with a grin that makes her heart pump with something she can't quite describe.

A village's pariah who will do anything to prove his strength…

Kisame was just one of the many street rats that filled the Village of the Bloody Mist. He doesn't have many aspirations in life, apart from surviving day after day in the mist-clad island. Until fate (or a rock) dropped a little spitfire of a girl on his arms, who shows him exactly what he is missing. Forget about stealing or fishing, this boy here will become a shinobi come hell or high water. After all, someone has to protect his little one while out there on missions, right?

Sometimes, to stay above the water, one must dive in first. But there's no guarantee one will ever rise again.

Brought together by a river of endless possibilities, kept together by loneliness and pain, those two children raised in a island that might as well be Hell on Earth will grow wise and strong, or else perish under the dictatorship and ruthlessness of their home. Love and loyalty will be put under duress as they choose different paths to follow, but knowing all the while that they will always be brought together again. Be it as best friends and lovers… or as bitter enemies.

Dark Waters

Chapter 1– Breathing

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Do you know what it feels like to drown? Do you know what it feels like to die that way?

.

This is wrong, wrong, wrong and shouldn't be happening, can't be happening and I can't breath, why can't I just breath? What is happening, where am I, where are my parents?! I'm scared, I want this to stop, stop, stop!

Ba-dump-ba-dump-ba-dump… Ba-dump… Ba-dump… … … … Ba-dump.

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Dying and being reborn shouldn't be a pleasant experience, especially if one remembers their past life.

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She can feel her heart beat. Does that mean she's alive? Or is she dead, and the sounds she listens to are just a figment of her imagination?

But if she's dead, then how can she imagine the steady sound of a beating heart?

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump…

How can she ignore it? How can she dismiss the possibility she might have survived? That she might live? How can she not try and hope?

Hope?

How naïve.

How foolish.

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She was born the same way she died, among a storm, darkness and blood.

And the water, always the water. She was born, only to almost drown again.

Ba-dump.

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This is Kirigakure.

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She doesn't speak, and the adults think her mute. No one in the Orphanage bothers to teach her sign language as no one teaches her or the other children how to read or write. Why would they, if their jobs are only to feed them and ensure that they survive long enough to be enrolled in the Academy and become ninja? They will be trained to be killers, not scholars. Half of their village can't read.

So, really, why bother?

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Kirigakure is cold.

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She is a sad, quiet child that doesn't interact with the other orphans. They don't know what goes around her head. They don't know why she seems so numb. They don't know that she's mourning.

She mourns for sunny days running in a grass field, for a house in top of a small hill. She mourns for a family out of her reach and faceless friends she has no hope of seeing ever again. For a life ripped away far too soon and memories steadily slipping away from her into the mist. She mourns, mourns and mourns, but nobody sees.

Nobody knows…

That she mourns for a name she can't remember anymore.

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This is Kirigakure, and everyone only cares for themselves.

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She is disappointed when realizes that no one there cares enough to name her. She was found by a fisher inside a basket, half-drowned in a near beach, like an old wives' tale, and neither he nor the matrons bothered to give her a name.

She can't remember who she was, and now she is no one. She is only a face among hundreds, the black-haired girl, the brat or the mute.

"Musei", the children taunt her, with sneers and cruel smirks in their faces.

That isn't her name. She doesn't want it to be, but can't muster the energy to speak.

She just can't bring herself to care anymore, and has no one to call her by her name anyway. And she wonders, what is the meaning of this? Why she, of all people, was reborn? What was the reason of this new life, if she was so alone?

Who is she? Who is the silent dark-haired girl that doesn't sleep?

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She is the girl who haunts the dark hallways of the Orphanage during the night, while everyone else sleeps, like the ghost of a child starved to death. She knows she looks the part, what with her small and frail body, horribly thin for a child her age, matted black hair that hangs limply around her gaunt and pale face and dark bags under her unnaturally colored eyes.

She doesn't speak because she mourns.

She doesn't sleep because she doesn't want to dream. She haunts the Orphanage during the night the same way her nightmares haunt her every step.

The dreams of a life before her own, of a death that still follows her now, keeps her awake with bags under her eyes, that conveniently covers a very small birth mark under her right eye.

She's three when she learns to sleep through the nightmares. The dark bags gradually disappear.

She's three when the matrons start to take note of her features.

She's three when she meets her father for the first time.

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Kirigakure is cruel.

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Twenty years old Yagura doesn't know what to think when the Mizukage gives him one of the, admittedly, few files of Kiri's Orphanage. Looking at the paper in his hands, he has to admit he's surprised that there is a file at all, since a good administration work was something quite lacking in their village, especially when it concerns the Orphanage. There are simply too many kids there and more than half will be dead before even entering the Academy so why try to keep track of the little brats?

Moreover, he isn't interested in taking on a student, no matter how prodigious they may be, not now, not ever, and the Sandaime out of every one should know this best, as is not the title of sensei he wants, but that of Mizukage.

And if the man was actually senile enough to think Yagura wanted to adopt a child… It was really good that he was already planning to take his job.

But until the day comes when he takes the hat, orders are orders and he dutifully opens the file and flips through it. What he sees and reads almost make the blank mask he wore on his face for years crumble.

It's not possible. It's not true.

And the Sandaime Mizukage, the damned infuriating man, only smirks at him with sadistic amusement shining in his eyes before announcing in a deceptive happy tone:

"Congratulations, Yagura-kun. It's a girl."

It can't be.

.

He needs proof.

He needs to see her.

The thought comes uninvited, unwanted, and has Yagura gritting his teeth harshly.

But he doesn't think. That's how out of it he is, because he's Yagura, cool, emotionless, always logical Yagura and he does nothing without thinking first.

And yet, he stands and almost flies to the south of Kirigakure, where he knows the Orphanage stands. In mere seconds, he is in front of the looming stone building.

Kiri's Orphanage, much like the rest of the village, can be described in four words: dark, cold, miserable and wet. He idly notes that that hadn't changed in the twelve years he had left the place.

Yagura, show-casing stealth skills honed during more thana decade of shinobi life, slips into the always-present mist, unseen and unheard, his keen eyes already combing through the children, looking for a particular head of raven black hair and pale pink pupiless eyes.

As the minutes slowly ticked by and no sign of his supposed offspring appeared, the tension in his shoulder blades left and he released a sigh he hadn't know he was holding. It was only a lie then. Only an intricate plot of the Sandaime to throw him off balance, to make him worry about an imaginary child-

He whirls around, kunai already in his hand, ready to lash out and cut open someone's throat when he heard a small movement behind him…

Only to freeze in shock when he saw two big pink orbs staring back at him in fear and awe.

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She had sensed him long before ever seeing him, and had the sneaking suspicion that, if he so wished, she would never lay her eyes on him even if he decided to parade in front of her over and over again. She had realized, a few weeks after she was reborn in this strange new world, that everyone around her seemed to have this strange blue energy inside them, some kind of 'aura'. Some were very small, like the babies and children around her age. Others were a little bigger, like the older pre-teens and matrons', but not overly impressive. But this man… he was like a roaring tsunami to the adult's pitiful puddles.

And she couldn't help but become helpless attracted to the energy around the mysterious male. She wanted to be near him. The man practically radiated power and confidence.

But no matter how much she wanted to be near him, she couldn't quite hide her fear when she saw him holding one very sharp-looking kunai, very different from the old and rusty ones some of the older boys had filched from the streets. She had no doubt that, unlike the aforementioned children, the man in front of her knew how to handle it and could (and probably would) use it to carve a very big and very painful gash on her.

She had seen that happen before. Bored men and women wearing headbands on their forehead that would come have a little 'fun' with the poor, poor orphans. Some of the younger kids didn't survive the 'games'.

With a sudden clarity that she hadn't had since waking up to discover she had been reincarnated, she realizes; she doesn't want to die. Not again.

With that thought in mind, she scrambled backwards hastily, or tried to. She stopped doing anything, including breathing, when she felt a hand grab the hem of her oversized shirt and lift her off ground. Then she thrashes around like a wild animal, desperately wriggling in his hold, kicking and punching and scratching because damn it all, she doesn't want to die again. Even if this new life has no meaning, no reason at all, even if she's so alone all the time, she doesn't want to experience the pain of death again. It was still too soon, too fresh…

"What is your name?"

She stops moving.

Did he just ask…?

No. No, it couldn't be. She was hallucinating, obviously. Evidently, the mist around them had finally managed to drive her insane (as if the whole reincarnation thing hadn't done that already) and now she was hearing voices. Because the man about to kill her wouldn't waste time asking his victim's name. The others never had.

"Are you deaf?" there was a sliver of irritation in the voice this time. "I asked you your name."

And only because she was sure she was already mad, she spoke for the very first time since being born in this strange new world. Her voice was cracked and hoarse for years of inactivity and she had to cough a little to form coherent words. "I don't have a name"

She waited to see how he would take her answer. Would he laugh in her face before slitting her throat? Would he mock her for being so unimportant that no one bothered to even give her a name? She wouldn't be surprised if he did, she expected it actually.

This is Kirigakure, and cruelty had long since become the norm.

What she did not expect however, was for the hand holding her in the air suddenly let go, and she would have fallen face first if not for her quick thinking. Even then, she ended up kneeling in the mud trying (and failing) to stand up on her feet.

"Huh, good reflexes" came the muttered whisper behind her. She didn't give it any attention, too worried about trying to spare her clothes the dirt. If one of the matrons caught her clothes this dirty, she would be in for one of the worst beatings in her life.

"Don't you have any name you like to call yourself?"

Giving up in her attempts to save her clothes and deeming it a lost cause, she turned to the man and glared at him angrily. Why the heck did he want to know so much?!

"The others call me Musei." It hurt to speak those words, admit that she really was nothing but a nameless not-quite-mute brat of a girl that wasn't important to anyone. She hated the man in front of her a little for forcing her to say it aloud.

The shinobi (for there was no doubt in her mind that the man in front of her was one of the silent assassins that would often come to scout potential talent and have 'fun' with the orphans) considered her words for a moment.

Finally, as if coming to a decision, he crouched down in front of her until they were at eye-level and stared into her eyes. A gasp escaped her throat when she saw him properly for the first time.

He has eyes like mine…

"This name doesn't fit someone like you. You are no mute, and from this day on aren't nameless. You are Kurai and my daughter."

Kurai.

The words repeated themselves in her mind over and over again and she looked at him as if in a daze.

"You are Kurai and my daughter."

And she believed him.

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"Kura-i"

She stares at the kanji that makes her name. It's a little wobbly, made by her pudgy, awful three years old hands, but it's her first time doing it, and she thinks it's not so bad. She turns her head to the side, where a young light grey-haired man is hunched over his own papers, trying to catch up to his readings.

They were in Yagura's small and cozy office, where he would take the time to teach her things other than the shinobi arts, like history, geography and math. He has been teaching her how to read and write for over a month now, since they discovered that it would take some weeks before her mistreated body could handle the training exercises he had planned to give her with some degree of success. To make up to him, she had thrown herself in studying their new language (something she's sure she has heard of before in her… other life. Japanese, maybe?) with a fervor that even surprised Yagura. Fortunately, her progress in that branch of studies was by leaps and bounds, which greatly pleased her father, she could tell, much to her guilty happiness.

"Otou-sama,"

It's strange to say that word. But it feels so good.

After a long pause, his eyes –so alike her own- flickers up from the scroll he's reading and zeroes on her. She feels her heart thump in excitement. This is what she wants, what she wishes for. She craves her father's attention and approval and would do anything to please him as long as he sees her. Yagura would often look at her, but he wouldn't see her. No, it was like he was seeing another person in her place. When that happens, she wonders about a parent she hasn't met yet in this new life. She wonders where the woman that gave birth to her is and if she looks anything like her.

"What is it Kurai?"

She points mutely at her papers where she's been writing in for the past forty-five minutes, practicing her kanji.

Her father looks at her work with neutral and critical eyes before nodding solemnly. "It's passable. Keep up the good work."

And then unexpectedly, surprisingly, his hand comes down on the top of her head and tousles her black locks before vanishing as fast as it came. He goes back to his reading as if nothing ever happened, as if he hadn't just given Kurai his first form of physical affection, leaving her gawking at him with mouth hanging open.

She blinks at him, big pink eyes wide in wonder before turning back to her work, now determined more than ever to have it down before the day is over.

Kurai doesn't notice that her tongue is slightly sticking out in her state of concentration, a habit she hadn't had in her past life, a habit that had been passed down to this new body.

She doesn't notice the way her father looks at her with an almost invisible bitter-sweet smile, pupiless pink eyes clouded with memories of a laughing black-haired woman dancing in the mist.

They weren't a family. Not yet.

And Kurai accepted that. But she couldn't help but wonder…

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Yagura was a hard taskmaster and a terrifyingly efficient teacher. He demanded nothing but absolute perfection from her, hardly gave any praise and was quick to point out the tiniest of mistakes, always in the same calm and neutral voice, followed by the use of physical and more-often-than-not brutal force if she was stupid enough to commit the same error twice. Her new father certainly was a firm believer of 'pain makes perfection'.

And Kurai wouldn't have it any other way.

Every morning she would wake up at the crack of dawn with bruises all over her body, tired and aching, wondering how she managed to drag herself to the bed the night before. She would go to the bathroom, run to the kitchen for a quick breakfast and then rush to the dojo for another day of lessons (read: torture).

But she didn't care about the bruises that littered her body, or the fact she had to wake up at an ungodly hour everyday or even about the fact that her father didn't exactly know how to act around her unless is during training, in which case, they weren't family, but master and student.

But it remained that Kurai didn't care. Because she finally had a purpose, something she could strive to achieve. After so much time wondering 'why her, why her of all people?' she now had her answer.

"You are weak but will grow strong. I will personally make sure of that. I will teach you and you will learn and grow and be loyal. You will be my weapon, my strongest tool."

Yagura had given meaning to her existence, had given her something worth living for after so long trapped alone inside the Orphanage's confining grey walls.

But Kurai wasn't blind. She may have the body of a three-years-old and the mind of a young teenager, but was far from blind. She knew, or at least a part of her did, that her father was playing her, giving her bits of his attention and slivers of affection, making her love him and only him. She knew he was molding her to become the most powerful tool a ninja can have. He admitted it himself.

Loyalty is a precious and dangerous thing.

Blind loyalty even more.

After all, you don't have to worry about having your back stabbed when there is someone more than willing to take the killing blow for you.

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Punch, double kick, another punch, dodge- too late.

The strength behind the hit took her by surprise and threw her off her feet. She landed on the hard floor in a crumpled mess of limbs, tasting dirt and blood in her mouth with a large bruise already forming at the side of her face.

"Get up"

The order, barely above a whisper, made her return to her senses immediately and stand up unsteadily on her feet. Sweat pooled around her forehead, cooling her down somewhat and her body shook with exertion.

"Come at me again. Be faster."

She obeyed.

In the end Kurai ended up with a broken nose, a busted lip, her face one big bruise along with the rest of her body and a dislocated shoulder. Yagura wasn't even breathing hard.

That stung a little, but it only meant she had to do better next time. The moment the thought crossed her mind, she collapsed in a dead faint, her pathetic body pushed far beyond its limits.

She woke up the next morning in her bed, broken nose and dislocated shoulder miraculously healed and a sticky substance with a horrible medical smell splattered across her face in a careful fashion that made the aching pain easier to ignore. A glass of water and a plate of the day's breakfast were placed near her on the bed's nightstand so she wouldn't have to move too much to reach it.

A note could be seen near the glass of water. It took some seconds for her to work out what was written, but she hadn't been studying for nothing.

You can take the day off. Tomorrow we will continue and you better dodge faster.

P.S: There is more medicine in the cabinet in case you need it.

There was no signature, but then, there was no need. A smile bloomed in her busted lips and her heart warmed.

They weren't a family. But maybe someday…

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Kirigakure is bloody.

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Things changed after their fifth month living together. Her birthday came and went, she was four now and Yagura was hardly home, disappearing on a regular basis. The time he was there, he locked himself in his office for hours on end, doing only-Kami-knows-what, before leaving the house once more.

They didn't eat together anymore, nor did he spend his time teaching her something other than how to be a shinobi. The writing lessons were put on hold and the taijutsu ones became much more brutal. Then Yagura started to teach her chakra control exercises that, bluntly put, she sucked at. Apparently, it was because she had more chakra than normal for her age, which made control a difficult thing to achieve. And as more time passed, it became obvious that her father wasn't satisfied with her progress on both fields.

"Get up"

Kurai wanted to, but she couldn't move one finger. They were at it for more than one straight hour now and her body simply couldn't handle anymore. She tried to tell that to her father, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was a dry cough.

"Kurai, I said get up."

I can't! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't!

A hand closed around her shirt and lifted her in the air. "I said to get up. Now, Kurai!"

The almost shout of her father shocked her more than a slap in the face would have. Her father never raised his voice before. Never. It was almost like a fact of life: fire burned, water was wet, Yagura never shouted.

Her shock must have been apparent in her face because Yagura's own eyes widened and he dropped her like she had burned him. Kurai stood in the ground staring at him before lowering her eyes to the floor. She had the horrible urge to cry and had to blink her eyes furiously to stop herself from shedding any tear. 'Tears were for the weak and won't change anything', her father once told her during their first spar. If she wanted him to be proud of her, than she simply would have to try harder.

"Kurai."

She hesitantly looked up from the floor. Just because she had promised to train harder didn't mean she wouldn't cringe form the pain it will surely bring her. But when she met her father's gaze, his eyes appeared calmer, steadier.

He also seemed incredible tired.

"I didn't mean to shout at you. That was irresponsible of me. I'm just tired, it seems. All I need is one good night's rest to return to normal and-"

"How can you have a good night's rest if you don't sleep in your bed?" she interrupted him.

He seemed surprised for a moment before narrowing his eyes. "How did you know that I wasn't sleeping in my bed?"

She blushed for a second, quickly averting her eyes to the floor. Her answer came out in an unintelligible mumble.

"What? Speak up child. I won't listen to your grumbles."

"… I went to your room one night and saw the bed unused."

"And what were you doing in my room in the first place?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"… I had had a bad dream and was searching for…" for you. "Something to distract me and tried to find some scrolls about chakra exercises in your room, since you always lock your office after leaving. Your bed was empty." It was a reasonable enough excuse. She just hoped he would buy it.

Fortunately, he did. "I see. Well, I've been very busy and stressed these last few weeks, so a bed is a luxury I can't afford right now. However, that still doesn't justify or excuses my actions. I shouldn't have been taking it out on you and for that I apologize." Then he smiled, and Kurai thought how she has never seen something more beautiful than that.

"You've been doing extremely well for one so young and I have no doubts you will graduate early and make me proud. I have many expectations of you, my daughter."

Daughter.

Her heart felt warmer at his words. It weren't quite the words she truly wanted to hear him say, but…

Ba-dump.

If that was all she could get from him, then she would take it and be happy with it.

If that was all he was willing to give her, than it was enough.

…

AN: So, what do you think? Good, passable? Bad or absolutely horrible? Are you interested? Want to see more of Kurai and Yagura? If you do, then REVIEW! Also, if you have noticed any grammar error, please let me now so that it can be fixed. English is not my first language and as a human being I'm prone to commit mistakes, thank God.