As Uchiha Itachi greeted her in a rather familiar tone, Sakura Haruno raised a delicate eyebrow and responded with a provocative smirk.
"I don't remember being that close with you."
"As far as I recall, we've only met once."
Hearing this, Itachi didn't react much. However, the man beside him—Kisame Hoshigaki—took off his straw hat and was the first to speak.
"Heh heh, Itachi-san, looks like your kindness was completely ignored by this little girl."
"You think that's funny?" Sakura scoffed. "With a face that ugly, you shouldn't laugh at all. Makes you look even worse."
Kisame's smile froze, and his face darkened slightly.
Before defecting from the Hidden Mist Village, he had been ostracized by his so-called comrades due to his hideous appearance. Sakura's words had struck a nerve.
"Hmph, such a sharp tongue for a brat."
He gritted his teeth.
"You won't be able to hold both of us off alone, Sakura-san," Itachi said calmly, tossing aside his hat and looking at the pink-haired girl with an expressionless gaze.
"If you leave now, I'll pretend none of this happened."
"Ha?" Sakura barked out a laugh. "You think you're in charge here, weasel-boy?"
"You're on my turf and you're telling me to leave? You got your cards all mixed up."
As she spoke, Sakura pulled on a pair of black gloves from her ninja tool pouch and then slipped on two reinforced knuckle dusters. Her expression said she clearly thought this was a joke.
Weasel…?
Itachi silently admitted the tear troughs under his eyes might be a little pronounced, but calling him a weasel was going a bit far.
Still, it was obvious now she had no intention of walking away peacefully.
Kisame, already irked by her insult, couldn't restrain himself any longer.
Although Itachi was stronger and generally took the lead in battle, even he couldn't control Kisame's temper at the moment.
He was already planning to create some chaos in the fight, enough to let this Konoha prodigy slip away undetected.
"Kisame," Itachi warned, "your fighting style is too loud. Make it quick and clean."
"Heh," Kisame grinned, pulling the massive, bandage-wrapped sword from his back. "Itachi-san, a brat like this doesn't need you to lift a finger."
"Three moves. That's all I'll need to finish her."
Sakura raised an eyebrow and curled her finger toward him tauntingly.
"Big mouth for a fish-face. Let's see how you handle three punches—I'll knock you straight into the afterlife."
That did it.
Kisame snapped.
Roaring, he charged toward her with Samehada, his giant sword, ready to strike.
Sakura smiled, eyes glinting with the thrill of battle. Instead of retreating, she surged forward, closing the distance to meet Kisame head-on.
She knew very well Samehada could absorb chakra, so she didn't bother channeling any into her fists. Instead, she relied purely on her monstrous physical strength.
Itachi's expression shifted as he noticed the specific equipment she wore—the knuckle dusters bore the distinct markings of the Ninneko Clan, the famed weapon artisans often allied with the Uchiha.
Since the massacre, the Ninneko had blacklisted him, and he hadn't seen one of their tools in ages.
For Sakura, a non-Uchiha, to be using them… Could it mean she was particularly close to Sasuke?
If so…
Would casting Tsukuyomi on her make Sasuke hate him even more?
Or perhaps… would killing her outright push Sasuke to unlock greater power?
Would it awaken a new level of the Sharingan?
The thought was tempting. Itachi felt a rare thrill of anticipation stir within him.
No matter how strong she was, she couldn't possibly withstand Amaterasu.
But Sakura paid him no attention. As Kisame's massive sword came swinging down, she didn't dodge or flinch—she met it with a punch straight to the blade.
Her seemingly small fist collided with a boom, unleashing a shockwave of tremendous force. Kisame's eyes widened as he had to grip his sword with both hands, barely managing to block the blow.
He managed to hold on, but the strength behind Sakura's punch had clearly shaken him. His muscles trembled slightly, and his palms ached.
Sakura noticed.
He had tanked the hit, but just barely.
"Not bad," she thought. "But you're not as tough as you look."
Kisame might have had raw physical strength and a huge body, but she wasn't using her full power either. The punch was more of a test than a finisher.
Still, the tremble in his hands told her everything she needed to know.
"You're wide open."
Sakura twisted her waist and followed up with a spinning roundhouse kick, catching Kisame before he could recover.
His beady eyes widened in panic.
Her strength was unlike anything he had ever experienced. The force of her fist had pushed him to his limit—what would her leg do?
Desperately, he pulled Samehada in front of him to block.
BOOM!
Her foot crashed into the sword with a thundering impact. Samehada let out a high-pitched groan like a creature in pain, and Kisame was launched through the air, crashing into a nearby river with an explosion of water.
Just two hits.
That's all it took for him to be utterly overwhelmed.
Water rained down around Itachi, soaking his hair. He stared in stunned silence at the girl standing before him.
Kisame might not be the best in taijutsu, but with his physique and battle experience, he was no pushover.
Yet Sakura had crushed him in direct combat.
Was this truly the level of Konoha's new generation?
Sakura lowered her leg and smirked as she looked at Kisame's battered form crawling out of the river, blood dribbling from his mouth.
"So those were your three moves?" she said, mocking him.
"More like three jokes. Hilarious."
Kisame panted heavily, trying to suppress the roiling pain in his chest and gut. His eyes burned with fury.
He no longer cared about Itachi's warning to keep things low-key.
He just wanted this girl dead.
He had seen enough—she was a close-range fighter. Her strength was terrifying, but her style required proximity.
He wouldn't make that mistake again.
No more physical combat.
He would end her with ninjutsu.
In that field, he had total confidence.
Just finish her fast, then get the hell out of Konoha.
He clapped his hands together and began weaving hand seals with practiced speed.
"Water Style: Thousand Hungry Sharks!"
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(End of Chapter)
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