The cavern smelled of damp stone and blood. Water dripped from the ceiling in slow, rhythmic drops that echoed through the hollow chamber. Faint shafts of light bled through cracks in the rock above, painting ghostly streaks across the walls. In the middle of the hideout sat a figure broad as a mountain, his frame slouched against a stone chair carved crudely from the cavern wall. His breathing was heavy, ragged—yet the weight of him pressed into the space like a stormcloud.
Fuguki Suikazan. One of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist, keeper of Samehada, and Kisame Hoshigaki's master.
His body was marked with old scars, the thickest across his shoulder and ribcage, gifts from a battle during the last great war. Half of his teeth were missing, and his right arm bore a ragged scar that refused to heal properly. Though he still radiated menace, the years had not been kind, and whispers had long followed him—that he had turned his back and fled when Might Duy, the "Eternal Genin," had unleashed the Eight Gates and slaughtered four of Fuguki's comrades. He had lived, but not without the bitter taste of shame gnawing at his reputation.
In the corner of the chamber stood Kisame, broad-shouldered and silent, his eyes half-lidded like a shark circling still waters. His lips curled faintly, but not in warmth. His massive frame, draped in the dark garb of the Mist, was motionless save for the faint twitch of his fingers near the hilt of his blade.
Fuguki's voice broke the silence first, gravel grinding through his throat.
"You've been watching me all night, Kisame. You're restless. Speak. What is it that gnaws at you?"
Kisame tilted his head slightly, sharklike grin widening though it did not reach his eyes.
"Maybe I was waiting for you to rot in that chair before I said anything. Save me the trouble."
Fuguki's nostrils flared. He shifted, his bulk casting a heavier shadow.
"You dare speak so to your master? You've grown bold, boy."
Kisame's chuckle was low, like water bubbling over jagged rocks. He stepped forward, boots echoing against wet stone, until his massive presence pressed against Fuguki's.
"Bold? No. Just tired. Tired of leeches fattened on power they no longer deserve. Tired of listening to a man too afraid to die on the battlefield with his comrades. Tell me, Fuguki… when did you stop being a swordsman, and become just another relic hiding in a cave?"
The words sliced deeper than any blade. Fuguki surged to his feet, Samehada's hilt gripped in his hand, its living scales shuddering awake with hunger. The sword groaned, sensing bloodlust in the air.
"You insolent whelp! You think because you've tasted a few kills, you can question me?"
Kisame tilted his head back and laughed, sharp and cruel.
"Question you? No. I'm here to put you out of your misery."
With a roar, Fuguki swung Samehada down, its serrated scales shrieking as they tore through the air. Kisame dodged, water exploding beneath his feet as the blade crashed against the cavern floor. Stone shattered, spraying debris across the hideout. Kisame's own sword met the follow-up strike, the clash sending a shockwave through the chamber.
Their battle raged like thunder. Fuguki fought with the desperation of a cornered beast, Samehada snarling in his grip as it tore chunks of chakra from Kisame's defenses. But Kisame moved with merciless rhythm, each strike heavy, precise, and suffocating. His blade carved the air in brutal arcs, his movements more beast than man.
Minutes stretched into an eternity, the cavern walls trembling under their blows. Fuguki's breath grew harsher, his wounds deeper. His massive frame began to slow, sweat pouring down his scarred face. Kisame, in contrast, fought with grim amusement, every swing of his sword and twist of his body dripping with cruel intent.
"You've grown weak, old man," Kisame taunted between strikes. His eyes gleamed cold. "Your sword deserves a wielder who won't run. Who won't hide."
Blood dripped from Fuguki's side, his breath ragged. But his grip never loosened. "You… traitorous bastard…"
Kisame's blade carved deep, forcing Fuguki to his knees. The cavern fell still except for the drip of water and the wheeze of a dying swordsman. Kisame stood above him, eyes like pits of the ocean, unblinking.
Fuguki raised his head, sweat and blood dripping down his face. His teeth bared in a final defiance.
"Why… Kisame? Why betray your master?"
Kisame leaned down, close enough that Fuguki could see the mockery in his grin.
"Why?" His voice dropped to a rasp. "Because sarcasm aside… you were already dead. I'm just here to cut the last thread."
His sword plunged, steel slicing through flesh. Fuguki's final roar choked into silence, his massive frame collapsing against the stone floor with a wet thud. Blood spread slowly, pooling beneath his body, soaking into the cracks of the cavern. Samehada slid from his limp grasp, growling faintly as if confused by the sudden absence of its wielder.
Kisame stood motionless, the echoes of the kill still ringing in the cavern. His eyes fell to Samehada, the living blade twitching faintly on the ground. For a moment, its scales rippled, sniffing at Kisame's chakra like a curious beast. He didn't reach for it. Not yet. He merely looked down at Fuguki's corpse, lips curling faintly in a shark's smile.
"Pathetic."
The mist rolled thick when the Mizukage Arrived, cloaking its towers in ghostly fog. Kisame stand in silence before Yagura, the Fourth Mizukage, his sharklike features hidden beneath shadow. Yagura's gaze was sharp, but behind his pale eyes flickered something off, a dullness that did not belong to the man himself.
A man in swirling mask stood in the shadows behind Yagura. His presence was oppressive, even without words. Kisame felt the weight of that unseen gaze but said nothing. He wasn't a fool. Whoever this masked figure was, he held the Mizukage's leash tight.
Yagura's voice was cold, almost mechanical.
"Fuguki is dead. You took his life."
Kisame inclined his head slightly.
"He had grown weak. His death was necessary."
The masked man's voice slipped through the chamber, deep and warped, like it came from both everywhere and nowhere.
"Necessary indeed. Strength is all that matters in this world. From this day forward, Kisame Hoshigaki, you will serve as the Mist's blade. The era of Fuguki is over."
Kisame didn't bow. He only smirked faintly.
"Fine. As long as there are throats to cut, I don't mind whose leash I'm on."
Behind Yagura's eyes, a faint ripple of genjutsu shimmered—Madara's unseen hand twisting his will. But Kisame saw nothing. To him, it was only another order in a world full of them.
---
### The Akatsuki Meeting
A black void opened in the air, rippling like water disturbed by a stone. From its depths emerged the towering holographic forms of Pain and Konan. Kisame stood alone in a damp cavern, his massive frame dwarfed by their projections.
Pain's cold eyes bore into him.
"Kisame Hoshigaki. Your reputation precedes you. The Monster of the Hidden Mist. From this day, you will work with us."
Konan's paper wings shifted faintly, her expression unreadable.
"You are strong, but strength alone is not enough. Loyalty to the Akatsuki comes first. Can you offer that?"
Kisame chuckled, the sound low and guttural.
"Loyalty? Hah. As long as you keep me fed with enemies to kill, I'll play along. Better than rotting in the Mist, listening to cowards pretend to be leaders."
Pain's expression didn't change.
"Good. Then your role is decided. You will soon meet your new partner."
Kisame tilted his head, a grin flashing sharp teeth.
"Partner, huh? Hope he's not boring."
Pain gave no answer. The holograms flickered and vanished, leaving Kisame once again alone in the dark. The cavern echoed with his laughter, low and predatory.
"Partner, huh? Guess we'll see who eats who."
---
The river shimmered under the pale moonlight, its surface breaking in ripples as Kisame walked along the shore. His massive sword, now bound to him, hung heavy across his back. Ahead, a lone figure stood upon the water, his cloak black with red clouds, his expression calm, unreadable. Uchiha Itachi.
Their eyes met, predator and prodigy. The silence between them stretched until Kisame's grin split wide, full of jagged teeth.
"So you're my new partner, eh?" Kisame drawled, voice thick with amusement. "I heard we'd be working together, but I didn't expect it'd be you… Uchiha Itachi, the clan killer himself."
Itachi's gaze didn't waver. His voice was calm, smooth as still water.
"I hope you're not disappointed."
Kisame laughed, deep and resonant, the sound carrying across the river like the growl of a beast.
"Disappointed? Hah! Not at all. In fact…" He rested a hand on Samehada's hilt, its scales twitching at the taste of chakra in the air. "…I think this might be fun, even my samehada is happy."
The two stood in silence, the moon casting silver light over the river. The air was thick with the promise of blood, yet neither moved. For now, predator and predator would walk the same path.
The partnership of Uchiha Itachi and Kisame Hoshigaki—the Weasel and the Shark—had begun.
-
**Power level**
* **Might Duy (base):** 2,000 →
* **Might Duy (Eight Gates):** 2,000 → 60,000
* **Fuguki:** 18,500 →
* **Konan:** 25,300 → 26,800
* **Kisame (Samehada):** 27,000 → 39,300
* **Yagura (Perfect Jinchūriki):** 20,500 → 32,400
* **Pain :** 48,000 →50,900
* **Itachi (healthy):** 47,200 →48,500
* **Madara (Obito):** 47,000 →49,700
**End of chapter 26**