On the sea...
The azure sea shimmered with tiny golden rays under the sunlight, and merchant ships cut through the waves, leaving white trails on the boundless sea.
Uchiha Itachi stood at the bow of the ship, the hem of his dark blue casual clothes fluttering gently in the sea breeze. His black eyes reflected the undulating sea surface, as calm as a bottomless lake.
Kisame leaned against the ship's side, with Samehada, wrapped in coarse cloth, standing beside him.
He gazed at the receding coastline, a playful expression appearing on his shark-like face. "Has Mr. Itachi visited the Land of Water before?"
"I've been here before." Itachi's voice was very soft, almost drowned out by the sound of the waves. "Last time I came, I was accompanied by one of your Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist."
Kisame raised his eyebrows high, revealing sharp teeth as he sneered, "Oh? Who is it?"
"Juzo Biwa"
The name froze Kisame's smile for a moment. He turned to look at Itachi's profile, trying to read something from that perpetually calm face, but ultimately found nothing.
"Ah... so it was him." Kisame's voice deepened, his fingers unconsciously tapping the gunwale. "I heard he was killed by the Fourth Mizukage. I didn't expect that he was also Itachi's partner."
The sea breeze suddenly became strong, ruffling Kisame's hair. He thought of his former village companion, Juzo Biwa, the wielder of the Kubikiribōchō, a figure once feared throughout Kirigakure.
(Becoming missing-nin, and then being killed by his own shadow... what an ironic ending.)
Kisame grinned, trying to mask the complex emotions that suddenly welled up inside him with a joke, "Then I'll have to be careful when I get back this time. The Kirigakure's pursuit force might come knocking on our door."
Itachi did not answer. His gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon, as if there was something there that only he could see.
Silence spread between the two, filled only by the sound of waves crashing against the hull.
Kisame wisely refrained from pressing the matter. He knew his partner's character all too well—some past events, like swords sunk to the bottom of the sea, are best left untried.
The merchant ship continued its voyage, seagulls circling and crying above the mast. Sailors bustled about on deck, none noticing the dangerous aura emanating from the two silent travelers at the bow.
From an angle unseen by anyone, a fleeting ripple flashed in Sharingan.
The sea breeze howled, Uchiha Itachi's black, tousled hair swayed gently across his forehead. He gazed at the undulating sea, the fragmented moonlight reflected in his deep eyes, as if he had returned to that rainy night that changed everything.
(The night of the genocide, the clan's village...)
Memories flooded back. I had just experienced the pain of my clan's annihilation, and the warmth of my parents' blood still lingered on my hands.
Then, on his very first day joining Akatsuki, the burly man wielding the Kubikiribōchō gave him a rude awakening— Juzo Biwa pressed the blade against his shoulder and sneered, "Kid, nobody here will put up with you."
Itachi's fingertips unconsciously traced his neck, where there were no longer any scars, yet he could still feel the icy touch of the blade from years ago.
Who would have thought that this seemingly vicious Kirigakure missing-nin from Kirigakure would ultimately sacrifice himself to save him...?
(Obito's scheming...)
The sound of waves crashing against the hull overlapped with the sound of torrential rain pounding against rocks in my memory.
Itachi knew perfectly well that Juzo had been a spy planted by the Masked Man from the very beginning. That man who called himself "Madara Uchiha" had never truly trusted him, the "executioner of the clan massacre."
But fate is always ironic. Juzo—the pawn sent to monitor him—showed unexpected loyalty in their daily interactions.
The seamless teamwork during missions, the silent protection during rest periods, even the rough, calloused hands that quietly offered him herbs when he was unwell...
(He was a true ninja.)
A Sharingan Itachi's Sharingan. The memory froze on that fatal moment: in the dense forest on the border of the Land of Water, the Fourth Mizukage, Yagura, suddenly Tailed Beast Transformation under Obito's control. The Three-Tails' Chakra pressed down on the air as if it were a tangible force, and the sudden attack of the Coral Palm caught him completely off guard.
"You little devil!"
Juzo's roar still seemed to echo in my ears. That man who was always cursing and swearing, the moment he saw him frozen by Sango, swung his Executioner 'Kubikiribōchō without hesitation and charged towards the Tailed Beast Bomb.
In the blinding light of the collision between the blade and the destructive energy, the shattered blade, like the scythe of Shinigami, precisely pierced through Juzo's chest.
Blood splattered on the weasel's pale face; it was still warm.
"Hurry up... you... troublesome little brat..."
Juzo's final smile was tinged with blood and foam; his usually fierce eyes showed a rare gentleness in his last moments. In the distance, Yagura, consumed by Amaterasu's black flames, let out a mournful wail...
"Mr. Itachi?"
Kisame's voice pulled Itachi back to reality.
He then realized that his fingers were digging deep into the wood of the ship's gunwale. The sea breeze, carrying a salty, damp scent, brushed against his cheek, carrying away a faint, non-existent smell of blood.
Itachi nodded slightly, and as he turned, his black robes fluttered like raven feathers. He took one last look at the shimmering sea under the moonlight, a place where too many unspeakable secrets were buried.
The words spoken by Juzo Biwa on his deathbed still often echo in his dreams. And now, he is leading another member of the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist on a journey to the Land of Water once again.
History always repeats itself in different ways...
Itachi closed his eyes briefly, suppressing his turbulent thoughts. His immediate priority was finding Orochimaru and ensuring Sasuke's safety. As for the rest... let it all fade away with the waves.
The setting sun cast an orange-red glow on the deck, and the sea breeze, carrying a salty, damp scent, swept across the ship's hull. Kisame tapped the railing with his bandaged fingers, the metal producing a dull thud.
"Mr. Itachi," he grinned, revealing a row of shark-like sharp teeth. "It's almost mealtime on the ship. Let's go to the mess hall and try some seafood specialties."
Itachi withdrew his gaze from the distant horizon, a barely perceptible flicker of emotion flashing in his black eyes. He nodded slightly, the hem of his dark blue casual clothes swaying gently as he turned.
The canteen was filled with the aroma of stewed fish and rice. The sailors sat in twos and threes around the long wooden table, their rough laughter mingling with the clinking of cutlery.
The moment Kisame's tall figure appeared, the previously noisy space quieted down a bit—even disguised as an ordinary traveler, his fierce face still instinctively made people uneasy.
"Two special meals." Kisame slammed a few coins on the counter, the metallic clinking sound particularly crisp in the suddenly quiet cafeteria.
The two chose a corner seat. The oil lamp on the wooden table cast a dim, yellowish light, casting varying shadows on the weasel's sharply defined face. The waiter brought a plate of freshly caught sea fish, drizzled with a thick sauce, accompanied by several seasonal vegetables and steaming rice.
Kisame eagerly broke open his chopsticks. "It's not easy to get a hot meal at sea." He picked up a piece of snow-white fish, "I heard that the ship's chef used to cook for the nobles of the Land of Water."
Itachi's movements were elegant and restrained. He carefully removed the fish bones, a habitual action that made Kisame raise an eyebrow—it was hard to imagine that this ninja, feared on the battlefield, would be so particular about his meals.
"Juzo Biwa," Itachi suddenly spoke, his voice so soft it was almost drowned out by the surrounding noise, "He likes to drink."
Kisame paused in his chewing motion.
He put down his chopsticks, picked up the sake jug on the table, and filled both cups. "That guy is definitely a drunkard." He pushed one of the cups towards Itachi, "I heard he gets completely drunk after every mission."
The amber liquid swayed gently in the glass. Itachi didn't touch the drink, but simply watched the shimmering light reflected off the surface.
"For the last mission," Itachi's voice was as calm as if he were telling someone else's story, "He said he'd treat me to Kirigakure's specialty shochu when we get back to base."
A burst of laughter suddenly erupted in the mess hall. Several sailors were arm wrestling, and the loser was forced to drink a penalty shot.
Kisame stared at the flushed faces, recalling a similar scene in the Kirigakure tavern— Juzo Biwa always came out on top...
"To the departed." Kisame suddenly raised his sake cup and drank it all in one gulp. The spicy liquid burned his throat, reminding him of the undried blood on his Kubikiribōchō.
Itachi finally raised his eyes. In the flickering lamplight, a glint flashed in his eyes. His slender fingers gently touched the rim of the glass, completing this simple ritual.
Outside the window, the last rays of sunlight sank below the horizon. Navigation lights illuminated the scene, tracing a faint path across the dark sea. The noise from the cafeteria gradually faded away, as if the entire world consisted only of the two people in this corner and those unspeakable memories.
"We'll reach the nearest island tomorrow." Kisame broke the silence, poking the now-cold fish with his chopsticks. "Hopefully, that snake hasn't gone too far."
Itachi nodded slightly and put the last mouthful of rice into his mouth. Dinner at sea had come to an end, but the long night had just begun.