Konohagakure.
The moon hung high, full and bright, turning night into a ghostly daylight.
Pale light spilled through the hospital window, painting the polished floor in silver. Cold and stark. Like frost, like snow.
On that mirror-smooth surface, two reflections appeared. Shinobi sandals. And the hem of a cloak—black fabric, red clouds.
Zabuza lay on the bed, staring at nothing.
The medic-nin's words from earlier played in his head.
"He'll never be a shinobi again."
"What a shame."
"I heard he had talent."
"Too bad. The bone damage is too extensive."
"Even Lady Tsunade can't fix this."
"Sigh."
Never again.
A cripple for life.
The brutal thought slammed into him. The muscles in his face twitched violently. His teeth ground together, a sharp, grating sound.
Hyūga Tenri.
A clan princess. Born with silver spoons and bloodline gifts. A good teacher. That's all it took.
Zabuza's breathing grew ragged, harsh.
Faces flashed through his mind. All of them. One thought burned through the rest.
He wouldn't be a cripple.
"Does it eat at you?"
A voice cut through the silence.
Zabuza jolted. His skin crawled with cold sweat.
He shifted his eyes toward the sound.
"The Hokage!"
The word tore from his throat.
Why was the Hokage here?
Hanataki tilted his head. A cold smile touched his lips. He took a step closer. Then another. His voice was a quiet murmur. "Wrong person. I'm not Tsukimi Heshu."
Zabuza's pupils contracted. His heart hammered in time with the approaching footsteps.
His mind raced.
What?
This woman… identical to the Hokage… saying she wasn't her?
Zabuza forced himself to calm down. To really look.
The initial fear faded. He was a cripple now. If she wanted him dead, he was dead anyway.
Details emerged.
The clothes were off. Strange. And the eyes…
Fifth Hokage Tsukimi Heshu's eyes always held a gentle warmth. This woman's gaze was a blade. Cold. Sharp.
But…
Why? How could two people look exactly the same?
On anyone else, it might be a coincidence. On the Hokage? It reeked of conspiracy.
"How did you get into Konoha?" The question burst from him. The Kage Summit. Konoha's legendary barriers. How did she slip in like a ghost?
"You haven't answered my question."
Hanataki's eyes swept over the mummy-like bandages.
Zabuza swallowed. Replayed her first words.
Does it eat at you?
Yeah. He remembered.
The bitterness, the rage he'd pushed down—it surged back, raw and hot.
"Damn right it does!" Zabuza snarled. He ignored the medic's warnings, clenched a fist.
White-hot pain lanced up his arm. Sweat beaded on his forehead instantly.
A cripple. Pathetic.
"Good." A soft, golden glow bloomed in Hanataki's palm.
He looked down at Zabuza, expressionless, then pressed the light into Zabuza's chest.
Zabuza couldn't move. Could only watch as the gold enveloped him.
"Hngh!"
His eyes flew wide. Bloodshot veins spiderwebbed across the whites.
Bone-deep, gnawing agony. His face twisted. Veins bulged. Sweat soaked the sheets.
Three minutes. It felt like three hours.
"What… do you want?" Zabuza rasped. Was this it? Torture for a broken man?
"Try standing up," Hanataki said, his voice flat.
What?
Before confusion could fully form, Zabuza froze.
His gaze drifted down. To the bandaged mess of his body.
He tried. A finger twitched. Then a hand.
He clenched a fist.
The power was there. Familiar. Stronger.
He swung his legs off the bed. Stood. His body felt… lighter. Faster.
"Is this… real?" His voice was a whisper. A dream. This had to be a dream.
He looked at Hanataki. Awe and terror warred in his eyes.
"It's real. I healed you. And improved your cellular structure." Hanataki met his burning stare. "You're stronger now. Faster."
An idea took root in Zabuza's mind, growing fast.
Power like this… If he followed her, he could learn. He could be more.
He'd tried to kill Yagura. Even with Mei's 'second chance,' his life in Kiri was over. A dead end.
Why not follow her?
"What's your goal?" He had to know. His worth. His bargaining chip.
"My goal?" Hanataki shook his head. He walked to the window. Moonlight bathed him. He turned. His eyes were empty. Like the cold moon.
"You will obey me. Completely."
Zabuza bristled. Obey? Completely? He was a free spirit. A force of nature.
"I can't promise blind obedience. But—"
His words died.
He smiled, a thin, sharp curve of his lips. "A lie, repeated, becomes truth."
Zabuza stared, uncomprehending for a second.
Hanataki asked, "Among the Kiri ninja Mei brought, is there one called Kisame?"
Zabuza nodded. "Yes. An ANBU. Formerly under Fuguki Suikazan's command."
Kisame hadn't deserted yet. But he was close. Heshu's acceleration of Yagura's death meant that masked man hadn't made his move yet.
Hanataki would move first.
A man like Kisame—loyal to the bitter end, a keeper of secrets—he belonged in more capable hands.
"Bring him to me. Unseen."
Perfect for Zabuza. The night. The shadows. His infamous assassination arts. And now, enhanced.
He might not beat Kisame in a straight fight. But he didn't need to.
Kisame's mind was already cracking. Easy to sway.
Hanataki waited on the room's sofa.
Time ticked by.
Then, two figures materialized from the darkness.
"This is the one with the answers?" Kisame looked Hanataki up and down. Interest sparked in his shark-like eyes.
Identical to the Fifth Hokage. How interesting.
He'd been lying in bed, wrestling with philosophy, when this Kiri shinobi—Zabuza—appeared. Promised someone who could answer his questions.
So he came.
"…" Hanataki hadn't expected Zabuza to be this efficient.
"Can you tell if this world is real or fake?"
"Do you know if you're real or fake?"
"Dreams and reality—which is the true world?"
"Am I just an illusion?"
Kisame asked each question slowly. Deadly serious.
Hanataki understood now.
Not like Haku's existential crisis. Kisame was lost. Couldn't tell dream from reality.
No wonder, in the story, that masked man's lies about a "dream world" hooked him so easily.
"How do you define truth?" Hanataki fired back. "What's the line between real and fake?"
Kisame blinked. Shook his head, earnest. "I don't know. That's why I'm here. For answers. Not more questions."
"I have a way. To end all your doubts."
Kisame's eyes sharpened. "How?"
"Believe in me. I am reality. Follow my orders. Do real things."
"You can't find your real self. You think you're fake."
"I know what's real. Follow me, and you'll learn to tell the difference."
Zabuza frowned. So… he wasn't solving anything? Just recruiting?
He kept quiet.
Hanataki waited.
Two paths for Kisame.
Reject the words. Fall under the passive compulsion of his Kotodama Jutsu.
Accept. Obey.
Same destination. Different journey.
Would Kisame take the bait so easily?
"Okay." Kisame nodded. His massive frame seemed almost simple. "I don't have the answers anyway. If you know what's real… then the things you tell me to do must be real too."
Hanataki paused. Nodded calmly. "Your understanding is correct."
[Ding! Target Kisame Hoshigaki Affection: 60!]
"…"
For a moment, Hanataki wondered who was more gullible—Obito or Kisame.
"Return to Kiri. A masked man will find you. He'll claim to be Madara Uchiha."
"His 'Moon's Eye Plan'? It's about tossing you back into a fake world."
Hanataki saw Kisame's brow furrow.
"If you want to see what's fake… follow him. His actions will show you."
"See the fake. Then you'll know the real."
"And I need you—the one who sees the fake—to become a force that shatters it."
In his mind, the system translated, blunt and direct:
Play along. Be loyal to him. But you know his identity is a lie. To break his fake Moon's Eye Plan, you'll feed me intel. We're on the same side.
We're the honest ones here.
"Okay." Kisame nodded.
A flicker of excitement crossed his face.
He did want to see this "fake" plan. This "fake" Madara.
After all, "a man claiming to be Madara Uchiha" said it all.
If the man was a lie, his plan couldn't be real.
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