Chapter 107: Three Moves to Finish Sakura Haruno
Itachi's greeting landed with easy familiarity, and Sakura raised an eyebrow at it.
"I don't remember us being that well acquainted."
"As far as I recall, we've met exactly once."
Itachi had no particular reaction. Kisame, beside him, removed his hat first.
"Heh heh. Looks like the kid's ignoring your pleasantries, Itachi-san."
"Is it your turn to laugh? You chose to laugh with that face?"
Sakura looked at Kisame's face — which was not improved by the smile — with open distaste.
"It's even worse when you smile. Don't do that again."
Kisame's expression darkened slightly.
The face had been a problem since before he defected from Mist. The reason his so-called "comrades" hadn't wanted him around. Sakura had gone straight for it without hesitation.
"Miss Sakura." Itachi set down his hat. His three-tomoe Sharingan was calm, trained on her. "You can't hold off both of us alone."
"If you leave now, we'll pretend this didn't happen."
"Hah?"
"You're a weasel telling me to leave my own turf?"
"Do you know who you're dealing with?"
Sakura pulled on her black gloves, then the brass knuckles on top — the cat-faced ones — and looked at him with the expression of someone who has been told something so absurd it barely registers as a challenge.
Weasel—
Itachi acknowledged to himself that his tear troughs were somewhat pronounced, but "weasel" was arguably a stretch.
Still. She wasn't leaving. That was clear.
And beside him, Kisame had stopped being containable.
Itachi was the stronger of the two and held the tactical lead — but right now he couldn't control his partner's temper.
His plan had shifted: make enough noise to give the Konoha girl a window to escape in the chaos.
"Kisame. Your style draws too much attention. Make it fast."
Kisame unslung the bandage-wrapped Samehada from his back and looked at the girl who, in his assessment, clearly had no idea how bad this was going to go for her.
"Itachi-san — for a little brat like this, you don't even need to move."
"Three moves. I'll be done in three."
Sakura's smile turned sharp. She lifted one hand and curled two fingers toward him.
"Shark-face. Ugly people shouldn't make big promises."
"Three punches. I'll send you to the Sage of Six Paths personally."
Kisame hit his limit. He grabbed Samehada and charged.
Sakura's expression didn't change. She didn't retreat from the blade that was nearly as large as she was. She went forward to meet it.
She knew what Samehada did. Absorbing chakra through contact was the whole game. So she kept chakra out of the knuckles entirely — pure Enhanced Strength, no conductance, no gift for the sword.
Itachi noticed the weapon in her hands. The Cat Shinobi clan's signature. He recognized it.
They've blacklisted me since the massacre. I haven't seen their work in years.
So she has something forged specifically for her by the Cat clan. Which implies a relationship with Sasuke.
His mind moved through several rapid calculations.
Would a Tsukuyomi now serve the purpose? Something that hurts her badly enough that Sasuke finds out — and the pain of it pushes him further toward the Sharingan's upper limits?
Or simply kill her?
Would grief be a better accelerant than rage?
He felt the thought forming and didn't dismiss it immediately.
Whatever she was, no one survived Amaterasu. That remained true regardless of what the file said.
Sakura didn't look at Itachi. Samehada came down at her in a full diagonal cleave — she drove her fist directly into it.
The knuckles hit the blade and transferred force.
Kisame felt it travel up his arms and through his shoulders and immediately stopped holding with one hand. Both hands locked on the handle. Full strength, full grip.
He held.
Barely.
Sakura registered the result with mild interest. In her entire combat history — outside of the training bout with Tsunade — this was the first opponent who'd absorbed a direct strike from Enhanced Strength without folding immediately. He'd done it on body and grip alone, no technique, just mass and muscle and the stubborn unwillingness to be moved.
She could see his hands shaking.
So.
She rotated. Before Kisame had finished processing the stagger from the fist, she pivoted and drove a roundhouse kick into him.
Kisame's eyes — already small, now enormous — locked onto her foot coming around.
That fist already needed everything he had. A kick—
He jammed Samehada sideways in front of himself as a block.
BOOM.
The kick connected with the blade. Samehada screamed. Kisame and Samehada together went sideways into the river in an explosion of white water.
Two moves. One punch, one kick.
In a pure taijutsu exchange, Kisame had been run over.
Water rained down from the impact, soaking Itachi's hair.
He stared.
Taijutsu wasn't Kisame's specialty, granted. But the man's physical build made him a solid practitioner by any normal measure.
One exchange and he'd been on the back foot immediately.
This is what the new generation looks like, while I've been away.
Sakura lowered the leg, looked at the shape hauling itself out of the river spitting blood, and delivered her assessment:
"That was your three moves to finish me?"
"I think I'm going to die laughing."
Kisame forced his breathing even and stared at her with murder behind his eyes. He ignored everything Itachi had said about keeping this small.
He had decided.
Taijutsu against this girl was a death wish. She was built for close range and she hit like a natural disaster. So: use what he was actually best at. Ninjutsu. End her fast, get out of Konoha, done.
"Water Release: Thousand Hungry Sharks!"
(End of Chapter)