On the cliffside under the moon, the corpses of several Kirigakure ninjas lay scattered, their blood darkening into a grim hue under the cold light.
They had not died by the hand of the mysterious Shura standing before them. Instead, they were ended by their own captain, Kisame Hoshigaki.
Faced with a formidable enemy and no hope of escape, Kisame had swung his blade without a moment's hesitation. His mission was absolute: prevent the enemy from capturing Kiri shinobi and extracting the village's secrets. Even with no one yet captured, he chose the most brutal method to uphold his duty.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kisame stated flatly. He held his blade across his chest, his expression unreadable, while his other hand crept toward a kunai rigged with an explosive tag. He was preparing to finish off the unconscious Terumi Rin.
Whoosh—
The sound of whistling air cut through the tension. Shura flicked his wrist, tossing an object that skidded across the dirt, coming to a halt at Kisame's feet.
Kisame looked down. It was a scroll.
"This is the evidence of Fuguki Suikazan's collusion with neighboring lands. See for yourself," Shura's voice was as cold and heavy as iron. It was a prize he had scavenged from Fuguki's body after their battle.
Without waiting for a response, Shura walked slowly toward the fallen Terumi Rin. He crouched down to examine her. Finding only a shoulder wound and a faint caused by extreme shock, he looked back up at the shark-faced man.
Kisame had already picked up the scroll. As his eyes scanned the contents, his shark-like pupils constricted violently.
"Impossible..." He instinctively tried to deny it, but the handwriting was hauntingly familiar. There was no mistaking it—it was the hand of the ANBU Commander, Fuguki Suikazan.
"The corpses of Juzo Biwa and Fuguki Suikazan are still lying in the outskirts of a small town called Anjou, south of the village. You can go see for yourself," Menma said, standing up. His black robe snapped in the wind.
He continued slowly, "For an ANBU elite like you, verifying a body and gathering evidence should be child's play."
Kisame's large, pale hand gripped the scroll so tightly the paper began to groan.
His direct superior—the commander of the Hidden Mist's ANBU—was selling secrets to neighboring villages?
This was a reality Kisame, a man who had dedicated his life to the shadows for the sake of those very secrets, could not accept. His greyish-blue face twisted with a rage that carved deep, terrifying furrows into his skin.
He remembered the secret orders Fuguki had given him when he first joined the ANBU: If a teammate is too injured to be brought back, or if you are surrounded and cannot escape, prioritize the village's secrets. Slaughter them all.
Kisame had lived as an executioner, walking through the darkness to protect Kirigakure. But now, he was being told that the man who gave those orders was the true traitor.
The foundation of his world began to crumble.
"Oh, by the way," Menma added, seeing the cracks in Kisame's conviction. He let out a mocking chuckle as he dropped an even larger bombshell. "The one who sent you to hunt me down was Yagura—or rather, the person standing behind Yagura."
?!!
Kisame's head snapped up. His face was a mask of shock, his small eyes shot through with blood vessels.
"What do you mean?!" Kisame stowed the scroll and leveled his blade at Shura once more.
"You dare slander the Mizukage? What is your goal? Do you think you can make me betray my village? Don't even dream of it!" Kisame snarled, his ANBU training forcing him to suspect a psychological ploy.
Menma casually kicked the corpse of the stout ninja aside and tutted.
"That 'person' has been controlling your Mizukage since the Third Great Ninja War. Has it really been that many years without anyone noticing?"
"Don't you ever wonder why his 'Bloody Mist' policies change on a whim? Why he is systematically purging every noble clan in the village?"
"He has turned a perfectly good Hidden Mist into a slaughterhouse."
"As for my goal..."
Menma took a step forward. He walked right up to the tip of Kisame's blade until it pressed against his chest, showing no concern for his own safety.
"I actually hold ninjas like you in high regard. I simply find your situation... pitiable."
"Work for me instead."
"I will end the chaos of this world. I will erase the Five Great Nations and the dozens of smaller ones. There will be one country, and one hidden village."
"Just as Hashirama Senju once ended the era of warring clans, I will terminate the cycle of shinobi warfare. I cannot guarantee there will never be another conflict, but under my rule, the world will finally know a long era of peace."
Kisame stared at Shura, who was now pressed against the edge of his sword. He didn't dare move. Every instinct in his body screamed one thing: If you strike, you die.
He swallowed hard.
The grand vision of ending the world's chaos didn't interest him much. His mind was elsewhere. He wanted to return to the village immediately to find out if Fuguki really was a traitor—and if Yagura was truly a puppet.
If his boss was a traitor, and his boss's boss was also a traitor... then what was the point of everything he had done? How many lives had he taken for a lie?
The collapse of his conviction was more agonizing than any physical wound.
"I look forward to your answer."
Confirming that the seed of doubt had been planted, Menma turned back to Terumi Rin and lifted her unconscious form into his arms.
Before leaving, he tossed a specially marked Flying Thunder God kunai at Kisame's feet.
"If you find yourself facing death, or if you wish to contact me, channel your chakra into this kunai. I will come."
"I hope your answer satisfies me when that time comes." Menma looked down at Rin, his fingers brushing through her long hair. "As for this woman, consider her collateral for our future meeting."
As the sentence ended, Shura's figure vanished instantly.
Kisame stood alone under the moon, eyes wide. He scanned the area and strained his ears, but there was no trace of a departure—not even a weighted footprint in the dirt.
"Space-time ninjutsu?" Kisame could only compare the feat to the legendary 'Yellow Flash' of the Third War, Minato Namikaze.
"Dammit!"
Looking at the four corpses of his subordinates, Kisame slowly lowered his sword.
After silently burying his comrades, he headed toward the coordinates Shura had mentioned. He soon caught the scent of blood drifting from the depths of the forest.
When Kisame reached the ruins of the battlefield, he saw stray dogs scavenging the two halves of Fuguki Suikazan's body. Nearby lay Juzo Biwa, his forehead protector glinting coldly in the dirt.
He looked at the forest, where a massive corridor had been blasted through the trees by high-level ninjutsu, littered with shattered trunks and debris.
The scars on the earth alone told him everything he needed to know about the sheer violence of the battle that had taken place.