Hoshigaki

The Color of Money

A/N: Warning. Depictions of violence involving a child.

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Six month old Sakura sat on a plush polka dot blanket on the floor as she clacked her building blocks together and nibbled on her teething ring. Kisame lay on his side next to her with his head propped up in his palm and his eyes fading in and out from being open and closing for minutes at a time.

"Buh, buh, buh, buh, gah!" Sakura exclaimed. He nodded and patted her stomach in encouragement.

"You're doing just fine," he mumbled. "Anything else you want to tell me?"

A clatter of wooden blocks.

"Bug-guh."

"Mhm. And?"

"Bah-wah..."

Konan took care of Sakura well enough when he wasn't around. Granted, she was rather... dispassionate about it and didn't coo or praise or cuddle, but she had enough kindness deep in her heart to understand that children needed warmth, constant contact, and tenderness. She wasn't the ideal mother figure he wanted for his daughter, but it was enough. And he was grateful.

Kisame sat up as he felt a presence enter his apartment, frowning at his unusual guest. Kakuzu stood at the edge of the living room free of his mask and cloak. He never came to visit unless on orders and honestly couldn't care less about the other members of the organization, but here he was. Stone-faced and off-set eyes boring holes into Sakura's skull.

She stared back at him and gnawed her ring.

"What is that?"

"Nothing you'll care enough about," Kisame grunted. He picked up his daughter and placed her in his lap as she babbled nonsensical words. He then reached into a tupperware and pulled out a smooshy peach to hand over to her before looking up at Kakuzu again. "What do you want?"

"You're needed on another mission," Kakuzu said. He looked at the baby a little longer, perplexed. "Leader wanted me to tell you that Konan won't be available for the allotment you'll be gone."

Kisame cursed. How was he going to find a babysitter for Sakura this time? Orochimaru and Sasori were still out of the equation and the only person he could even think of asking was... He grimaced at the thought of his only option and looked up.

"I need to—"

"Why is there—"

"—ask you—"

"—a child—"

"—a—"

"—in—"

"—favor!"

"—your care?"

Their words jumbled together in succession of their statements, but Kisame took it upon himself to sigh and stand as he hefted Sakura up in one of his arms.

"This is Sakura, my daughter," he said. Kakuzu raised a brow and stared at the baby again. "She's six months old and she needs someone to take care of—"

"No."

"I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't have any other choice, would I?" Kisame tried. He was starting to sound desperate, but there was no one else he could turn to. "Please, Kakuzu-san. I just need someone to watch over her until I get back."

The older of the two raised his unsettling eyes to gaze blankly at his colleague. 

"Two weeks ago, you were laughing about a set of kills you had and how they weren't much of a show. You're a murderer. What are you doing playing 'dad' like you have the time?"