For My Little Brother

A/N: This is a request from someone at DeviantART to describe what Umi looked like when she died. I think I got a bit carried away. This isn't a continuation of the story (sorry guys), it's an extra I guess.

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Umi lay inside the coffin, Nuibari in hand. She didn't know why picked up the sword to bring with her. She knew it belonged with the other swords as a set - someone would come take it from her grave inevitably. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to part with it so she held it in her hand. With one final look at the light of the burial grounds, Umi closed the lid.

Panic. Umi wanted out- there was total darkness. The lack of air didn't come right away. Forcing herself to remain calm, Umi tried her best to think about something else. She thought about her husband, Darui. She thought about her brother, Kisame. She even thought about her mother and father for the first time in ages. Umi took a deep breath and exhaled. She would die her own way. She would be brave. When her body would be found she would be dignified and beautiful, that was how she would go.

Umi closed her eyes and thought of Kisame. She thought of the day he was born and how she was jealous because there would be someone else to take away the little attention her parents gave her. She thought about how she offered to teach him to use swords if he could walk to her and get it - and he took his first step reaching for her. Tears ran down Umi's face as the air began to thicken and the oxygen began to run low.

She thought about how there was a squirrel infestation in the attic one time and the whole month the scratching and scratching of the squirrels could be heard on the roof and how it scared Kisame. He would come sleep next to her and she would tell him stories of heroes and ninjas, of great worlds and great adventures and he would look at her with his dark, shining eyes full of awe and wonder.

The oxygen was running out Umi crossed her arms and gripped Nuibari tightly, numbing her fingers as it lay across her chest. Umi's breaths came in gasps and her eyes widened needing air, needing life. There was nothing but darkness all around and Umi wanted to grip her throat as if it would help her breathing but no help came, air was out.

Umi thought of her brother's smiling face. She lay there in the dark stone coffin, her long deep navy blue curls reaching past her knees, shining legendary needle sword between her dark, ebony arms and down her chest. Her tribal shark tattoos were all clearly visible on her body as she chose to die while wearing her family's traditional war clothing. She felt like she was dying with purpose, dying for something worthwhile and someone she loved. It felt fitting to wear such clothes. The clothes were revealing - her large breasts were covered just barely with the strapped black dress that had threads hanging loose from the chest area and tribal buttons representing accomplishments she had succeeded in accomplishing on them. It had the design of waves in a brighter blue through its entirety and the bottom of the dress was all a wavey design in its end, each wave wringing out its own end piece at differing lengths.

Umi thought of the time as teenagers when Kisame had his first crush. The guy he liked was a basketball player and he was very good at what he did. He would play with Kisame for hours sometimes, and the two got along very well. But he got injured while training at the gym. Soon after he changed, unable to play basketball anymore, he lost his purpose in life and commuted suicide. Kisame cried. He wanted to die. He decided he would follow his love and Umi found him, in the rain, about to kill himself with his Samehada. Umi held him close and said "I love you, please don't go, don't leave, I love you." Over and over. Kisame howled in agony and shook with untold anguish.

At the moment in which she died her eyes closed and she lost consciousness as many do when they've lost enough air. When her breathing stopped she looked peaceful almost, her expression like that of someone satisfied. She did die her own way. Her cheeks were full and her lips full. She wore black lipstick and had done her makeup before she stepped into the coffin. She wasn't going to go to her death looking like she just woke up, hell no.

Umi looked like a warrior in her death. She was a warrior in life, after all.

Her last thought before her body left this world was "I hope you'll be happy, always." An image of a tall, handsome blue man in her mind blurred out. The darkness of her coffin became her eternal darkness.

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