[ Physical contact is a tricky thing for Kisame. It feels natural during a fight; he shamelessly revels in the fierce joy brought on by his fists and feet connecting with his target. However, outside of combat, Kisame is rusty at best. He spent years as a wanted criminal, and his years before that were stained with the repeated killing of comrades. Offering his hand to Shinobu was an act both brave and foolish, driven by a desire that frightens him even now.

Yet despite his inherent wariness, he doesn't avoid Shinobu's touch, nor does he so much as stiffen. She is slow; careful; gentle. He has time to understand and accept what is happening. Then her arm winds around his, careful not to touch his skin, and he is struck yet again by how small she is compared to him. Her petite stature is deceptive, in a way: she appears fragile, though she is anything but. It's as intriguing as everything else about her.

The dull ache of an absent partner and inaccessible abilities lessens within him. That should be alarming. He's playing at something far more dangerous than a brutal, bloody fight. But rather than feeling concerned, he feels… ]

Yes, let's do that.

[ Said with a smile that betrays a touch more warmth than he realizes. And then off they go, arm-in-arm, like two perfectly ordinary people.

Kisame pulls up a map of the city as they walk, finding the nearest park and angling them in that direction. It's not a task that comes intuitively to him, particularly when he's so aware of Shinobu's warmth and touch. So when he dismisses the map, he admits, ]

I don't think I'll ever adjust to that… It's just not the same as holding a map in your hands, is it?