Kisame crawled ashore from the sea, Samehada still dripping water. Deidara followed behind him, his hair soaked through and his clay softened into a limp mess by the seawater.
"Damn it, I shouldn't have come." Deidara shook out his hair. "We nearly got surrounded to death by that bunch of ANBU."
Kisame said nothing. He merely glanced at Kirigakure in the distance. The village's outline flickered in and out of the mist, its lights dim.
"Let's go." Kisame turned and headed toward the village along the shoreline.
Deidara followed. "Where exactly are you going?"
"To eat."
"Huh?" Deidara froze. "Are you serious?"
Kisame did not answer. He led Deidara through several side alleys, avoiding the ANBU patrols in the village. He knew these roads too well; he could have walked them with his eyes closed.
Ten minutes later, the two stopped in front of a secluded izakaya. The shop was tiny, and the cloth curtain bore the words "Seafood Cuisine." The fabric had already yellowed with age.
Deidara frowned. "Does anyone even come to a place like this?"
Kisame pushed aside the curtain and walked in.
The owner was the only person inside. He sat behind the counter, preparing a fish. Hearing their footsteps, he looked up.
"Welcome." The owner's voice was flat.
Deidara curiously looked the owner over.
"Kisame is willing to come here with service like that? Then it must taste great."
Kisame sat down, and Deidara sat beside him.
"Two bowls of seafood fried rice," Kisame said.
The owner nodded and headed into the kitchen.
Deidara leaned back in his chair and looked around the shop. Several old photos hung on the walls, all of Kirigakure's scenery. A few small bottles of soy sauce and vinegar sat on the tables.
"Did you come here often before?" Deidara