"Achoo!"
Far away, hundreds of miles from all this—back in Konoha.
Kakashi, who was currently busy cleaning up trash, suddenly sneezed hard.
He glanced around, confused.
"Strange… why do my ears keep feeling hot lately…?"
…
Land of Rain.
East of Amegakure, within the battered ruins near the old entrance.
Two figures in red-cloud cloaks walked out slowly.
Splash.
The rain had grown heavier—so heavy you could barely make out three shadows moving fast through the curtain of water.
A moment later, those three figures stopped short.
"There!"
Zetsu let out a shrill, theatrical cry, pointing ahead.
"Done for, done for—Itachi's new partner is going to be scrapped!"
His voice sounded high and excited, like he was enjoying the show.
The words themselves, though, were ice-cold.
Not once did he acknowledge the obvious truth—
Kisame was only here because of Zetsu's report.
"Hm? That bad?"
Obito had swapped into a plain gray robe, trying to hide the traces left by that "unexpected Kamui-space eruption" earlier.
Yet even behind the mask, the irritation in his brow refused to fade.
Something about today felt wrong.
Annoying.
He couldn't even name why.
And he definitely hadn't expected the "excellent partner" he'd confidently promised Itachi…
…to debut like this.
Not far ahead of them—
Kisame, clothes torn to rags, was down on one knee in murky rainwater.
His left arm was braced against the ground, barely keeping him upright.
He was covered in mud—but what stood out most was his right side.
From shoulder to forearm, it was almost completely withered.
Gray, dead skin clung to exposed bone, hanging limp and useless.
That fearsome chakra presence that once made others praise him…
Was now so weak it felt like a dying candle in the wind.
Almost impossible to sense.
Nearby lay Samehada—once lively, vicious, eager.
Now it lay still in the mud a few steps away.
Its scales were dull, many cracked open, refusing to regenerate.
Bandage scraps littered the ground like shed skin.
It had lost all of its former savagery.
"Who did this?"
Obito's voice dropped, teeth grinding.
"Someone dared lay hands on my man?!"
A nameless fury surged up, swallowing his earlier irritation in one gulp.
Kisame was someone Obito had recruited personally—an important piece placed beside Itachi.
More than that, Kisame was a future cornerstone of the Akatsuki's tail-beast hunts.
And now—
Today—
Right outside their own doorstep—
Someone had reduced him to a half-dead wreck?
It was a slap across the face of "Uchiha Madara."
And Obito could not tolerate it.
This anger wasn't entirely an act.
As Kisame's recruiter, Obito knew exactly how strong the shark was.
And he appreciated Kisame's loyalty.
Especially after the Kamui-space "mystery crisis" earlier…
Obito's temper was already primed to explode.
"Zetsu."
His voice went cold as the rain itself.
"Keep him alive. Now."
"Aiyaaa~ Madara-sama is angry~"
The pitcher-plant-headed yin-yang freak sighed theatrically through White Zetsu's half, then moved.
In the next instant, countless tiny white spores crawled out through the gaps in the pitcher plant like spiders.
They spread quickly over Kisame's withered right arm and torso—
absorbing chakra from the surrounding environment while attempting to patch the drained flesh and ruined channels.
Pff… pff.
Slow.
But enough to keep him breathing.
"Cough… cough…"
After a long moment, a little light finally returned to Kisame's shark eyes.
He struggled to lift his head toward Obito, humiliation and shame crushing his pride.
"Cough… my lord… I'm sorry…"
Tap.
Obito cut him off immediately.
"Sorry? If sorry worked, what would we need a leader for?"
"Tell me—who did this to you?"
"I'll drag him back and crush his bones piece by piece right in front of you."
Crush his bones.
Kisame's eyes brightened—just a little.
He nodded hard, moved despite himself.
"It was two intruders!"
"One was the white-haired Toad Sage—Jiraiya!"
"And the other… was a brat. And—"
Kisame shifted, then looked toward Zetsu—the one doing "battlefield commentary."
"That brat has the same ability as him."
"Please, my lord… give me justice!"
Thud.
Zetsu froze.
White Zetsu craned its neck and pointed at itself with a pale finger, screeching—
"Huh?! Me?!"
"HAHAHAHA—QUACK!"
Black Zetsu burst into laughter—pure malicious glee.
He laughed so hard he actually honked like a duck.
"Shut up!"
White Zetsu flushed red instantly and slapped Black Zetsu across the face without thinking.
"You hit me?! You bastard!"
Black Zetsu's voice turned hoarse with rage as he slapped back just as hard.
Obito: "…"
Kisame: "…"
Itachi watched the two clowns in silence.
A quiet question surfaced in his mind:
Does this organization really require Kai to be this careful—placing me inside as an informant?
"Enough!"
Seeing them about to spiral into a full-on slap fight, Obito snapped.
"Now take us to that brat."
His voice was sharp, final, filled with unquestionable authority.
He needed to restore his image—right now—in front of Itachi and Kisame.
"Hmph! This way!"
White Zetsu lifted its chin arrogantly and started walking left.
But its steps were uneven—
high, low, dragging—
because Black Zetsu was still sulking and refusing to cooperate.
The leg on that side barely moved, like it had snapped.
They hadn't gone far.
After passing through a stretch of shattered ruins—wrecked by the earlier battle—
the rain seemed thinner.
The surroundings came into clearer view.
Ahead, two figures stood atop a slightly higher broken wall.
One was tall, white-haired—
Jiraiya.
He was scanning the area repeatedly, scribbling notes into his notebook.
And the other—
The moment Kisame saw that silhouette, his shark eyes went wide and he hissed:
"Madara-sama! That's him! That black-haired, red-eyed brat!!"
Hate erupted instantly.
And beneath it…
a thin thread of fear.
"Hmph. Good boy."
Obito didn't stop to wonder why they looked like they were waiting.
He simply followed Kisame's pointing—
and his Mangekyō eye narrowed, focusing.
His chakra-infused gaze pierced the thinning rain.
And he finally saw the boy clearly.
On the broken wall stood a young Uchiha—barely ten—wearing the clan's formal clothing.
Rainwater reached within three inches of his body…
…and then split apart unnaturally, flowing around him as if even the rain didn't dare touch him.
And as if on purpose—
the boy lazily lowered his head and looked straight at Obito.
The crimson "666" in his eyes was blinding.
Woom.
BOOM!
It felt like an invisible hammer smashed into Obito's brain.
Authority. Rage. "Justice for my subordinate."
All of it turned to ash in a single instant.
It was him.
Uchiha Kai.
That disaster who had toyed with him inside Konoha's Root base and left him scrambling like a clown.
Why was he in the Land of Rain?!
Why was he with Jiraiya?!
The humiliation from last time flashed back so vividly it made Obito's scalp tingle.
He'd nearly been caught.
Run.
He had to run.
Immediately.
Right now.
Get as far away from that walking curse as possible.
But the moment he tried to move—
a killing chill stabbed from behind.
At the same time, Kai's small figure drifted down from above, calm as falling ash.
"You see?"
Kai smiled lightly.
"I really came out."
"And now you're not happy?"
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