Reborn in the Mist

“Ah…shinobi bossu…this is as far as I go.” The boatman said, rubbing his sweaty hands together as he stood in fear on his own deck. Ahead of the ferry was a scene he had already come too close to, an arranged border of warships with their cannons about faced and ready to blast his boat out of existence if he strayed any further.

Kisame understood the man’s fear well and appreciated it as the correct response when faced with such a scene, a blockade of over a dozen ships patrolling back and forth with sea lights already lit up as they guarded the fertile island, the food basket of the Land of Water, Koorijima.

Even with Kisame being the only passenger on the boat he knew his fellow shinobi forces wouldn’t hesitate to shoot first and ask questions later. He tossed a coin pouch at the boatman and leaped off his vessel into the Kaizoku sea without a word. Samehada moaned at his back, it had held hope that Kisame would let it feed on the man, but such was not meant to be.

The distance between Kurokami-jima and Koorijima was not one he could risk crossing with his chakra alone, not when he had Samehada to keep docile and content but more importantly, not when he was headed for more battle.

Kisame sprinted away towards the island and the ships guarding it. They’d see a man walking on water and that surely would be all they needed to know it was an ally, but there would doubtless be sensor-nin assigned to the division. Kisame expected a warm, battle borne welcome.

The raven that brought word of Koorijima’s need for reinforcements had the Mizukage’s seal stamped on the little letter, it was a copy of a copy though, Fuguki and Juzo would have received the same letter as well. But Kisame was closest and technically the freest of the Swordsmen.

Kurokami-jima was liberated, those Named Samurai were an unexpected challenge but once Kisame got serious it ended all too soon. He had to be the first to reinforce Koorijima, the first to meet the challenge of these remnants making a fuss of their defeat.

He thought it admirable that they continued to struggle for so long. Their defeat was more or less prophesied the moment the Lord Fourth sent them to war. Perhaps they already knew that much, the Named Samurai he fought seemed to realize they had little to no hope against Samehada even with their intriguing Kenjutsu. Yet still, they fought him to the death, one even thanking him with his last breath for not thinking them unworthy of his Shark Skin, even though they were little more than a snack for the beast sword.

“What’s this now?”

Kisame pulled away from his thoughts, bringing his sprint to a calm jog as he sniffed the air, no…the water for a familiar and dangerous scent. Samehada sensed it too, it bristled at his back, poking at the bandages as it growled excitement.

His eyes narrowed at the sea in front of him, the ships ahead hadn’t made any sign of noticing or even being bothered by his presence— likely the work of the scout’s early identification— but the water rippled with danger nonetheless. Kisame gripped Samehada’s handle as he approached the first line of sea lights, his skin shivered hives as he eyed the depthless blue sea at his feet.

Kisame’s eyes widened at what he saw swimming towards him, illuminated by the dull orange lights floating around him was a jaw wide, scarred and extending to swallow him whole. He jumped a split second before the water broke in an explosive shower, the giant shark, easily a Class-B summon snapped at his feet, nearly taking off his sandals before diving back down.

His heart pounded in his chest but Kisame laughed heartily as he landed safe some paces away, “Samekiru! It’s been too long!”

As the sea showered from Samekiru’s re-entry, the giant summon poked its snout out and grinned, “Kisame? Was it you after all? I thought the enemy smelled familiar.”

Kisame shook his head and walked over to Samekiru, the giant shark breathed hot air at him as he approached but did not swallow him whole, “Ah, don’t you lie, I know your nose is unbeatable, just say you wanted a taste and I’ll understand.”

The giant shark lowered himself underwater so his eyes, nose and fin remained above, “Hmph, I tell no lies. My nose is best at tracing blood, not bodily scent, spill some for me if you want to be easily recognized.”

Kisame shook his head still, “This blood has to be earned, try again next time ay?” the shark snorted in response, “So, Junko is here then, could it be that difficult?”

“Junko-sama is here, yes.” Samekiru corrected, “But I have no knowledge of what happens on land, I am tasked to protect this isle.”

Kisame hummed at that, walking alongside the shark as it swam back towards the ships. The message that brought him here hadn’t said anything about who commanded the mission on Koorijima, merely that they needed to be reinforced and safeguarded from internal opposition; the remnant Named Samurai.

To think Junko-sama would have trouble here, it was wise to abandon that slow squad and come here. “I am here to reinforce her position; will you take me to her?”

Samekiru eyed him like a snack, his eye flickered to the other shark, the one trembling at Kisame’s back and he seemed to change his mind, “I will take you to shore.”

Kisame grinned, “Just as good.”

****

“You?” Junko said, almost accusingly as she appraised him. She feigned a smile and brought him into the fold of a side embrace, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful you’re here, but…the Lord Fourth sent you?”

Kisame met his clan head in the midst of a wood damp room at the highest level of one of several ship docks. It was a rich place but still hadn’t avoided some hazards; there were several crates and boxes covered in tarp and stacked up as high as the rather generous ceiling.

He nodded and glanced at the Funato Jounin scowling so blatantly at he and Junko, “Yes me, seems you haven’t had as much luck or fun as I.”

She massaged the bridge of her nose, a feat Kisame didn’t think would be possible without poking out her eyes with those fingernails but she came unscathed nonetheless, “We…we’ve met some shinobi elements.”

At this Kisame raised a brow. She nodded and drew him towards the tarp covered crate that served as a table where she and the Funato Jounin were discussing over a map before he arrived. “I led a squadron out to deal with the fleeing Samurai and their militia but our enemies are more than mere Samurai. We were…counter ambushed, one Jounin lost another alongside seven Chuunin, my charges included.”

Kisame’s visage hardened at the report. Such losses weren’t unexpected of a war but under the command and charge of a clan head…She is not taking it well. “Rogue-nin?”

“We’re thinking Kumogakure.” The Funato Jounin spoke up from his brooding spot, “He refuses to admit it though.”

“He?” Kisame questioned.

Junko’s demeanour shifted as she recounted their recent encounters, “I ensured to capture one alive. He’s dead now though, it seems his compatriots are more concerned about their anonymity than his life, they mounted an attack on his cell within the city, killed the guards and had him take his own life. We killed two in their escape attempt though, but there’s little to learn from a dead body without someone from Interrogation and Communications here.”

“Such a reaction all but announces it is Kumo.” The Funato Jounin persisted, “In the first place he should’ve been kept under our direct watch, under our lock and key. Not within some city.”

Kisame sneered at the man, “Enough of you, what are you doing to root them out?”

The Funato Jounin inhaled but his lips remained shut and voiceless. Junko shook her head, “Don’t take it out on him, he’s right, I shouldn’t have stayed in the city, too much space, too many cavities and vulnerabilities. But we’re here now and they…whoever they are, will be coming for us here and soon, I can feel it.”

The ‘here’ in question was a highly secure dock taken over by Kiri shinobi and manned by shipbuilding civilians who routinely maintained and repaired the warships patrolling the coast. Now that he looked Kisame saw that was what the map was of, the newly defensible dock.

“You want to lure them into attacking…here?”

“Not lure, it’s all but guaranteed they’ll attack. The Barons want Koorijima back and crippling our naval capacities is the only way they’ll have even a sliver of a chance at getting it. If we can’t repel their ships from the shore they’ll troop an army in with little constraints.”

Junko sighed and groaned, “This is why I was hoping Yagura-sama would let the Byakugan Killer go for just a moment, discerning who is Samurai and who is shinobi would be a cake walk with him.”

Any other would feel insulted that their mission Commander had wished for another shinobi, but Kisame knew his clan head well through well service. Her face was stoic, untwisted by boisterous and jubilant cackles. The only thing that regularly did that was the sight of presumptuous men who didn’t acknowledge their place and a threat to the clan’s future.

Samehada thrilled, bolstering Kisame with chakra in a rare performance of…comradery? No, perhaps symbiosis. Kisame couldn’t read chakra like a sensor-nin or discern it like the Hyuga eye but he could eat it. And he’s had a feast of men and fools.

Kisame cackled at his clan head, “That matters not with me, shinobi or Samurai, both meet their ends, Junko-sama.”

It’d be a different exercise altogether if shinobi are truly involved, more so if they are Kumo-nin. It was simply unfortunate though, if Koorijima were to become the frontline of a much larger war, it would have Junko Hoshigaki’s name all over it, no, the Hoshigaki’s.

The door slammed open and a Chuunin sprawled hastily into the room with a kunai vice gripped, “Junko-sama! They’re here! They’re inside the base and are trying to blow up the munitions store!”

Kisame was at his side in a blink of an eye, “Take me there.”

The boy cowered at his toothy grin but Kisame was simply grateful he’d made it to Koorijima in the nick of time.

Hiya