9. Needle man

Terumi Mei watched Kisame's retreating back, momentarily dazed. Then, realizing something, she quickly chased after him—he had handed her his umbrella, yet now he had none.

And the rain was only getting heavier.

"Let's share the umbrella," she offered, tilting her head with a smile as she caught up and held the umbrella between them.

Terumi Mei had always been observant. Over the years they'd been classmates, she had noticed a change in Kisame—something deep and subtle. Recently, that change had become much more pronounced.

She was curious. And this walk in the rain seemed like the perfect chance to uncover the mystery behind the transformation of the once-reclusive boy.

Unexpectedly, Kisame stopped, pointed at the gill-like slits on his face, and said with a slight smirk:

"You forgot—I'm basically a fish. I won't catch a cold, no matter how much it rains. The umbrella's yours. I've got things to do, so I'll head off."

And with that, under Terumi Mei's stunned gaze, Kisame turned and strode away into the white curtain of rain.

"Hey…"

Terumi Mei reached out instinctively, but Kisame had already disappeared from sight.

Frustrated, she withdrew her hand and tightened her grip on the umbrella handle.

"Kisame may look intimidating, but he's polite and his voice is gentle… he's actually kind of warm."

She stood in the rain, murmuring to herself.

Her first impression of Hoshigaki Kisame had always been that of a loner. At the Ninja Academy and even later in the village, he kept to himself and had few—if any—friends.

Then came the moment when she witnessed his cold, almost beast-like ruthlessness in battle. It had given him the aura of a dangerous predator.

But today, she had seen another side of him.

What kind of person is Hoshigaki Kisame, really?

The question lingered in her mind, her curiosity growing.

Of course, it was just curiosity—nothing romantic. Like most girls her age, she had a preference for more conventionally handsome guys.

While Terumi Mei stood lost in thought, Kisame stepped into a nearby shinobi supply store.

There, he spent most of his saved funds on a reinforced flak jacket, shuriken, and a hefty stockpile of explosive tags. At home, he had already prepared tools like powdered lime and chili water—nonlethal ninja weapons meant to impair and confuse.

He knew tomorrow's mission would be more dangerous than any before. If he wanted to survive, he needed to be ready for anything.

But survival wasn't his only goal.

He'd already heard whispers: to deal with the powerful Scorch Release kunoichi, Pakura of Sunagakure, the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist were deploying Kuri Hachigaki and Jinpachi Munashi.

That meant Kisame had a rare opportunity.

As he walked home, Kisame reviewed his plan for tomorrow in his mind.

First, an assessment of his current strength.

After three months of intensive physical training, his chakra had increased significantly—he was already operating at jōnin-level reserves.

Combined with his mastery of Water Style ninjutsu, powerful close-combat skills, and the Shark Tail Lightning Whip technique, Kisame could now rival even elite-level swordsmen in the Mist.

If a clash occurred between Pakura and the ruthless duo from Kirigakure, no matter who gained the upper hand, Kisame's power might be the decisive factor.

His plan: wait for the moment when both sides were weakened—then strike and take full advantage of the chaos.

Unconsciously, the rain had stopped. Kisame arrived at the doorstep of his small home.

He reached out to open the door—then paused.

His eyes narrowed.

There, faint but unmistakable, was a near-invisible wire looped subtly around the doorknob.

A trap.

The next second—snap!

The tripwire launched forward with a metallic whine. Kisame reacted instantly, dodging to the side. Even so, the wire grazed his cheek, leaving a thin, bloody cut.

He had no time to treat it.

A thick fog rolled in from all directions, rapidly engulfing his house.

Visibility dropped to less than two meters.

The Hidden Mist Technique.

A signature jutsu of Kirigakure shinobi, it manipulates surrounding moisture with chakra to form a dense fog, masking one's presence for stealth attacks and assassinations.

The density of the mist reflected the caster's chakra.

Whoever cast this—was no genin.

At least a jōnin.

Who is it?

Kisame remained silent, his senses heightened. He tried to guess the enemy's identity.

A rival from within Kirigakure? An outside assassin? Was it retaliation for the death of Raiga Kurosuki?

Dozens of thoughts crossed his mind as he prepared for the worst.

Then—shoom!

An attack came flying from the fog, aimed directly at him.

Kisame bent back in a smooth arc, narrowly dodging. His instincts kicked in: Teppōshin, a swift evasive move. This time, he saw the weapon clearly.

A long, slender blade—tied to an ultra-fine steel thread.

That blade… he recognized it.

The Sewing Needle.

One of the Seven Ninja Swords.

That could only mean one thing.

The attacker is...

BOOM!

The needle blade shot past Kisame and embedded itself in his front door. Then, with a sudden yank, the blade tore the door off its hinges and flung it backward.

The wooden slab slammed into Kisame, launching him into the air before he crashed into the river nearby.

A tall, thin figure emerged from the fog.

He had wild, lion-like yellow hair and a skeletal mask shrouded in shadow. His presence radiated a cold, murderous intent. Over two meters tall, his limbs were unnaturally long and lean, giving him a disturbing appearance.

He was known as the "Needle of Death" in the Hidden Mist. A prodigy who joined the Seven Ninja Swordsmen at the age of twenty—the wielder of the long blade, Nuibari (the Sewing Needle):

Kuri Arashimaru.

"Oi… you didn't just get knocked out by your own door, did you?" Kuri muttered, peering at the river's surface.

As he crouched to get a closer look—splash!

Five shark-shaped water bombs erupted from below, leaping toward him with gaping jaws.

Kuri's eyes lit up in amusement.

He leapt backward in a graceful arc, avoiding the attack, then flicked his wrist.

Thwip! Thwip! Thwip!

The Nuibari danced through the air like a skewer, piercing the shark water clones in a single, fluid motion.

Each one popped in a puff of chakra mist.

"Feisty, aren't you?" Kuri chuckled. "Come out and play, Kisame!"

He hurled Nuibari back into the river. The blade slashed through the water like a torpedo, churning the river as it searched for its target.

Beneath the surface, Kisame watched the blade with narrowed eyes.

He parried and evaded, noting something strange: Kuri wasn't trying to kill him outright.

This sudden encounter felt more like a test—an assessment.

Kisame quickly analyzed the situation and chose not to use his Shark Tail Lightning Whip technique. Instead, he feigned resistance for a while, then allowed himself to be "defeated" and entangled by the steel threads of Nuibari, the Sewing Needle.

On the riverbank…

"Yo! What a great catch today!"

Kuri Arashimaru grinned with satisfaction. With a forceful tug on the steel thread—just like reeling in a fish—he pulled Hoshigaki Kisame up from the river, soaked but very much alive.