The Land of Lightning, Cloud–Thunder Gorge.
The sealing ritual of the One-Tail Shukaku had been disrupted. Uchiha Itachi and Hoshigaki Kisame were thus forced to move ahead toward the Cloud–Thunder Gorge, where their next target awaited: the Eight-Tails' jinchūriki, Killer B.
Unlike other jinchūriki, however, Killer B's name carried weight throughout the entire shinobi world—ever since the Third Great Ninja War. His power was considered among the strongest of all the tailed beast hosts.
"I heard this guy Killer B is hailed as the perfect jinchūriki, Itachi-san," Kisame muttered with a crooked grin.
Still, he wasn't entirely displeased with their mission. With its rivers and cliffs, the gorge was practically tailored to strengthen his Water Release techniques.
"That's why you need to be cautious, Kisame," Itachi replied in his usual calm, detached tone.
Though he had already passed intelligence to Senju Haruto, urging him to bring Sasuke and intervene, Itachi was unsure how quickly they could arrive. If the Akatsuki succeeded in capturing the Eight-Tails, their overall plan would move another step forward. Whether his secret pact with Uchiha Madara could hold after that… was uncertain.
"That must be the Eight-Tails' jinchūriki."
Upon arriving at the gorge's core, the two finally laid eyes on him: a dark-skinned, light-blond-haired man, black shades over his eyes, seven blades strapped across his back, the kanji for "Iron" inked into his right shoulder, and horn-like scars etched into his left cheek.
The legend himself—Killer B, host of the Eight-Tails.
"Yo, yo! You want an autograph or somethin', bro?" B called out, half-rapping as he strolled toward them.
Kisame frowned slightly, clearly unamused. "Seems like this one's not the brightest, Itachi-san."
As he spoke, Kisame's right hand drifted toward the massive bandaged blade strapped across his back—Samehada. Better to end this fast before Cloud shinobi reinforcements could arrive.
Before Killer B could even register them as enemies, Kisame lunged, his feet pounding the earth in a sudden burst of speed. Samehada swept out in a wide, brutal arc.
Clang!
But before Kisame could savor victory, a blade rang out. B had drawn one of his short swords in a flash, catching Samehada's edge with ease.
"You ain't fans of mine after all, fool! Ya fool!" B barked, glaring from behind his sunglasses.
Only now did he notice their cloaks. Black fabric. Red clouds. And scratched forehead protectors. His grin faded. He had heard of this group before.
"We're here to capture you, Eight-Tails. Do yourself a favor and don't resist pointlessly," Kisame warned, hopping back to sling Samehada over his shoulder once more.
"…Akatsuki?" B muttered. His gaze flicked between the two. The black coats embroidered with crimson clouds. The forehead protectors etched with slashes—the mark of missing-nin. Combined with Kisame's words, the truth was undeniable.
Akatsuki had come for him.
Kisame wasted no time. "Itachi-san, if reinforcements from the village arrive, it'll complicate things. Best we handle this together."
Without waiting for an answer, he sprang backward, leaping off the gorge's edge and disappearing into the depths below.
B blinked, confused by the sudden move, but he had no intention of letting Itachi off easily. His eyes locked with the Uchiha's—and then his instincts screamed.
A short blade whistled through the air.
Clang!
A spinning black shuriken struck it mid-flight, knocking it off course.
And then B's vision blurred.
Itachi's Sharingan spun. His black pupils bled crimson, morphing into the three tomoe.
The Three-Tomoe Sharingan.
"You're Uchiha…?" B muttered, narrowing his brows. But before he could move, his limbs stiffened, bound against an invisible cross.
The sky bled scarlet. A thousand Itachis stood before him, each wielding a gleaming blade that stabbed forward into his flesh.
"Gah—!"
B gritted his teeth against the phantom agony.
"B!"
A booming voice rang out in his mind. Something poked his back. He turned to see a towering figure—upper body of a bull, lower half an octopus.
The Eight-Tails.
"Genjutsu, fool," the beast grunted.
With his partner's interference, B's chakra surged violently, snapping him free. The crimson sky shattered, and he found himself back in reality. He exhaled, sweat trickling down his temple.
Damn… without Gyūki, that would've been bad.
Itachi's genjutsu was monstrous—but against a perfect jinchūriki, it was useless.
"So it really is you… the Leaf's infamous rogue ninja, Uchiha Itachi. Gotta admit, your genjutsu's no joke. But it's useless against me, the perfect jinchūriki, fool! Ya fool!" B rapped, his swagger returning.
"This won't be a quick capture, then," Itachi muttered, his gaze hard. His earlier illusion had cost little chakra, but even his ultimate Tsukuyomi would likely fail. Perfect jinchūriki were… troublesome.
"Itachi-san."
Kisame's voice roared from above.
The sharklike swordsman erupted skyward, but he was no longer standing on solid ground. He had submerged himself completely, using the gorge's waters to his advantage. From the swirling depths surged a monstrous jutsu: Super Shark Bomb.
A colossal chakra shark rose, fangs gnashing, before diving at B with crushing force. Kisame intended to drag the jinchūriki into the waters, fuse with Samehada, and devour him whole.
But B wasn't just any jinchūriki—he was the perfect one.
Snarling, he flooded his body with the Eight-Tails' chakra, slipping into a half-beast transformation. With a thunderous stomp, the ground beneath him shattered as he launched forward.
"Lariat!"
BOOM!
His shoulder crashed directly into the shark construct, piercing through and striking Kisame square in the chest. He intended to rip right through.
But his eyes widened.
His cloak of chakra flickered—then evaporated. His beast form receded in an instant.
Samehada quivered eagerly in Kisame's grip.
"This blade devours chakra, jinchūriki," Kisame sneered, savoring the flood of power surging into him from the Eight-Tails.
Below, Itachi remained still, watching the battle unfold. For now, he would conserve his strength.