My footsteps echoed longer than they should have in the tunnel Kisame led me through. The walls sweated water from their seams, and the scent of salt and blood permeated the air. The deeper we walked, the more I felt it pressing in, like the walls themselves were breathing.
We didn't speak. Kisame's back was broad and tense. His gills twitched slightly with each step. His greatsword, Samehada, was strapped to his back, wrapped tight in bandages that seemed to shift slightly, like muscle twitching in sleep.
No one else was here—and yet I felt watched.
We came to a large, sunken hall. Torches burned high in carved niches. Water pooled around the edges of the room. There were chains along the wall—some wet and rusted, others too clean. In the center, a circular depression.
Kisame pointed to it with his thumb. "Get in."
I stepped toward it. The floor was cold underfoot. As I climbed down into the shallow depression, I realized there were thin marks carved into the stone—circular grooves, spiraling inward. A seal.
My breath caught. My body remembered fear, even if my mind didn't know what would happen.
Kisame crouched beside the circle, arms resting on his knees. He watched me like a man observing an animal in a cage.
"You feel it, right?"
I nodded slowly.
He grinned. "Good. That's your instincts talking. Keep them sharp. They'll keep you alive longer than skill."
I didn't respond. The silence between us stretched like taut string.
Then he stood. "You're not from around here," he said casually, almost a throwaway comment. I tensed. He chuckled. "Relax. I don't mean your blood. Or your accent. I mean... there's something wrong about your chakra. It's too quiet. Like it's hiding. Like it knows."
I said nothing. My heart pounded in my ears. He didn't push. Instead, he stepped to the edge of the seal, removed his headband, and set it on the floor. The mist symbol on it was slashed through.
Rogue. But he was in Kirigakure. That contradiction made the hairs on my neck rise.
"You wanna survive here, Souta?"
"Yes."
"Then learn to drown slow."
He slammed his palm against the seal.
The chakra flared before I could react. Not pain. Not heat. Pressure.
Like the ocean had been dropped on my back, and I was being shoved down, down, down.
I didn't pass out. I think he wanted to see if I would.
When it ended, I was on my knees, coughing up bile and snot. My vision pulsed red and black.
Kisame squatted beside me again, Samehada now resting beside him, its scales shifting slightly. "You didn't scream," he said. It wasn't a compliment. Just an observation.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my arm. My hands were trembling. "You want answers," I said, surprising myself.
Kisame's eyes narrowed. "No," he said. "I want weapons. Answers are for monks and poets. But I'll take loyalty."
I met his gaze. He didn't look away.
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