On his way toward the Land of Waterfalls, Shigure raised his hand, and a white pigeon descended onto his wrist.
It wasn't an ordinary bird—it was one of his chakra scouts, returning with intelligence from Konohagakure.
He unfolded the mental link, and scenes and fragments of reports streamed into his mind.
So… Itachi had finally made his move.
After Shigure's departure from Konoha, Uchiha Itachi had defected. During his escape, he clashed with Jiraiya—a battle fierce enough to shake the village itself.
Reports said Itachi had summoned his Susanoo, its spectral armor towering over the rooftops of Konoha. Yet, against Jiraiya's Sage Mode, even Susanoo began to falter.
Jiraiya's mastery of Senjutsu had given him the edge; natural energy reinforced every strike, disrupting even Itachi's defense of ethereal chakra.
And when Itachi could no longer maintain his full Susanoo form, the tide turned completely.
Defeated but unwilling to retreat quietly, Itachi unleashed Amaterasu, black flames devouring everything they touched—dozens of Leaf shinobi perished in the inferno before he finally vanished into the night.
He had accomplished nothing.
Danzō still lived.
And Kisame… was missing.
Shigure could almost picture Itachi's expression when he returned to the Akatsuki empty-handed, unsure whether his partner was even alive. Explaining that to Pain or Obito would not be pleasant.
Still, that wasn't Shigure's concern.
If anything, this turn of events gave him breathing room. Obito and Nagato would be too preoccupied to meddle with the Mist—at least for a while.
Meanwhile, within the Akatsuki's secret dimension—an underground chamber illuminated only by the dim light of their chakra projections—an emergency meeting had begun.
Each member appeared as a tall, flickering illusion, suspended from the fingers of the Demonic Statue of the Outer Path.
Pain's Deva Path stood at the center, its emotionless eyes turning toward Itachi's projection.
"You seem… weakened," Pain observed in his usual cold, measured tone.
Itachi's eyes remained half-lidded, his voice quiet and calm.
"Just fatigue. Overuse of my Sharingan. Nothing I can't recover from."
Pain didn't respond immediately. His next question was blunt, almost surgical.
"Kisame… is he truly dead?"
A pause.
Itachi's face remained unreadable. "I don't know. I didn't witness his final moments."
From one of the other projections, a voice rang out with mocking disbelief.
"Oi, oi, oi! You're telling me Kisame—the Monster of the Hidden Mist—got taken out by some Mist ninja?"
It was Hidan, his tone both irreverent and incredulous.
Beside him, Kakuzu snorted in disdain.
"If he's dead, then he wasn't strong enough. The Mist's hunter-nin are no joke. They track Missing-nin like bloodhounds."
That much was true.
Unlike other villages, Kirigakure maintained a relentless network of hunter-nin who pursued defectors across nations.
And Kisame Hoshigaki, for all his strength, was still one of their own—a fugitive of the Bloody Mist.
Pain's Rinnegan eyes narrowed slightly.
"The Hidden Mist Village has changed. Whoever killed Kisame is no ordinary shinobi."
For a brief moment, silence fell among the Akatsuki projections.
Even through their illusions, the tension was palpable.
Far away, high above the forests of the Land of Waterfalls, Shigure rode upon the Flying Nimbus, cutting through the clouds like a golden streak.
His mind was calm, but focused.
The Seven-Tails was his next step—a means to repair Gluttony, to strengthen himself, and to send a message to Danzō.
And if fate wove their threads closer… perhaps even the Akatsuki would soon find themselves caught in his path.
Inside the Akatsuki's dimly lit meeting hall, the chakra projections flickered like restless ghosts.
The Deva Path of Pain, controlled by Nagato, stood silently in the center as the others' spectral forms shimmered across the stone walls.
"It seems," Pain said, his voice cold and measured, "that the Hidden Mist has produced a shinobi worth watching."
Sasori's puppet-like face turned toward him.
"Why are you so sure?"
Pain's Rinnegan shifted slightly. "No reason."
But there was one—Nagato simply didn't bother to explain it aloud.
After all, the Mist had been crippled for years under Obito's manipulation of the Fourth Mizukage, Yagura. For a village so weakened, how could a Mist shinobi possibly have defeated someone like Kisame Hoshigaki?
"That boy—Shigure," Pain continued flatly. "He's a Jinchūriki, isn't he?"
Zetsu spoke up, his dual voices overlapping.
"That's right. And not just any Jinchūriki. He carries two Tailed Beasts—the Three-Tails and the Six-Tails—sealed within him at once."
Even the ever-irritated Hidan raised an eyebrow.
"Both beasts from the Mist are inside the same guy? Damn… no wonder Kisame had trouble."
Pain's tone didn't waver.
"Then this saves us some effort. Two Tailed Beasts in one body—it's convenient."
Kakuzu, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through the air.
"The situation with Kisame doesn't add up. I doubt he's really dead."
Hidan scoffed.
"Didn't you just say the Mist's hunter-nin are a pain in the ass?"
"That doesn't mean they could kill Kisame," Kakuzu snapped.
"If Shigure really mastered the power of two Tailed Beasts, then maybe… but the scale of that battle should've been enormous. Yet Itachi said there was no disturbance—no chakra surge, no explosion, nothing. Kisame was gone in five minutes."
He folded his arms, eyes narrowing.
"Tell me, Hidan—could even someone in our own organization take Kisame down in five minutes if he were alert?"
Hidan clicked his tongue but didn't answer. Everyone knew the answer—no.
If Kisame truly intended to escape, it would be nearly impossible to catch him.
Pain's voice broke the silence.
"Then it seems we'll need to confirm it ourselves. We can't afford to let mysteries linger."
His gaze swept over the assembled projections.
"Who will go to Kirigakure and investigate?"
"I'll go!" Hidan grinned, eager for a fight. "I want to see how strong this Jinchūriki brat really is!"
Kakuzu sighed heavily beside him.
"Idiot. You realize how far the Mist is? It'll take weeks to reach the Land of Water. Try thinking for once."
Itachi finally spoke, stepping forward.
"I'll go. Kisame was my partner. If he's dead, I want to know by whose hand."
Pain shook his head.
"You're still recovering from overusing your Mangekyō Sharingan. You're not suited for travel." His eyes turned toward Sasori and Zetsu.
"You two will go. Assess the state of the Hidden Mist and confirm this 'Jinchūriki's' strength."
Sasori's puppet face twitched with mild annoyance.
"Working with him, huh? How unpleasant."
Zetsu smirked. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you don't rot before we get there."
Meanwhile, Kakuzu adjusted his cloak.
"The Nine-Tails capture failed. That means it's our turn next."
"Finally!" Hidan shouted, stretching his neck. "Time to spill some blood again!"
With that, the two disappeared into the darkness—off to hunt another Jinchūriki.
One by one, the chakra projections flickered out until only the Deva Path remained.
Pain stood in silence for several moments, his gaze distant.
Kisame… are you truly dead? Or are you still alive somewhere?
If Kisame had survived, he knew too much. And that made him a threat.
He had to be silenced.
A voice broke the stillness. "If you find him alive, what will you do?"
Pain turned. Obito stepped out from the shadows, his orange mask faintly reflecting the dim light.
"You brought him into the Akatsuki," Pain said.
"Shouldn't you be the one to deal with him?"
Obito shrugged. "It's not time for me to reveal myself yet."
Pain's gaze hardened.
"Then we'll discuss it once most of the Tailed Beasts have been captured."
Nagato, controlling the Deva Path, cut the chakra link. His projection faded into nothingness.
Two Tailed Beasts in one host. Whoever this Shigure was, he wasn't ordinary. Even Pain, confident as he was, understood the danger of underestimating him.
At that very moment, high above the Land of Waterfalls, Shigure hovered silently on his Flying Nimbus, his cloak rippling in the wind.
Below him lay Takigakure, a small village nestled in dense forests and waterfalls. It was nothing like the great villages of the Five Nations.
To Shigure, it looked less like a village of ninja and more like a town—humble, quiet, insignificant.
"The difference is night and day…" he murmured.
The Hidden Mist was a city-state in itself, with nearly a million residents and tens of thousands of shinobi. Takigakure, in comparison, was a mere fragment of that.
"It seems I was overthinking it," he said with a smirk. "No need for subtlety. I'll just take the Seven-Tails and be done with it."
He turned toward the chakra signature of the Jinchūriki—Fū, the young kunoichi hosting the Seven-Tails, Chōmei.
But then his eyes narrowed. He sensed something else.
Two signatures—fast, approaching from the forest.
And on one of them… five distinct heartbeats pulsed in unison.
Shigure's smile deepened.
"So it's you, Kakuzu."
...
TN:
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