Chapter 358: "The Meeting of Fire and Iron"
Shisui in the Shadows
Shisui Uchiha crouched high in the rafters of the training dome, her silhouette merged with the beams, her chakra so thinly spread it was almost theoretical. She watched Sai's trial unfold below — the ink beasts, the paper traps, the moment Sai hesitated because he sensed someone watching him.
Shisui frowned.
Malik says I'm weird when I hide like this… but showing up now would disrupt the drill. They're supposed to learn to stand without us.
She shifted slightly, enough for a faint crimson gleam to slide across her Sharingan. Her eyes followed Sai's posture, the minute stiffness in his fingers when emotion threatened to surface.
Her thoughts sharpened.
He's improving. Slowly. Carefully. Like he's afraid to break something.
Danzō left scars on him… deeper than the Root tattoos.
She sighed through her nose.
And Malik calls me the scary one.
Below, Anko barked another order. Sai complied with mechanical precision.
Shisui's jaw tightened.
He is strong enough. But strength alone is not the measure… Sai needs pressure. Pain. Something that forces him to choose connection over protocol.
He needs a test Malik would hesitate to give… because Malik's heart is too soft.
She closed her eyes, exhaling.
Soft… but that softness saved me. Made me whole again. Made me his wife.
And the same softness is why these three brats will grow into something good.
Her eyelids fluttered open, Sharingan narrowing thoughtfully.
But softness alone won't sharpen them. They need something harder.
Something sharper. Something cruel — carefully.
She finally turned her head toward the far wall. Her chakra vision stretched out past the dome—past the training field—past the village walls—
And stopped at the Hidden Leaf's outskirts.
She sensed her.
Of course she's watching too… tch. That woman.
Her lips curled. Not in a smile.
Danzō.
The Shimura Compound — Present Time
Far across the village, the Shimura clan compound was quiet, sealed, and guarded — a gilded cage for a woman too dangerous to roam free.
Inside, Danzō Shimura reclined on a large, cushioned lounge, one hand resting on the swell of her very-pregnant stomach. Her long black hair cascaded down like silk curtains, her posture regal even under confinement.
Around her, loyal former-Root subordinates stood like statues.
Malik lay with his head on her belly, listening to the soft movements of their unborn child inside her. His dark curls brushed her skin. His hands rested gently atop hers.
Danzō looked down at him.
Not with softness — she didn't do softness.
But with… something like acceptance.
He murmured, "He's kicking harder today. Stronger."
Danzō snorted delicately. "He will be born strong. Fate demands it."
Malik looked up at her with a grin. "Or maybe he'll be an artist like Sai."
Danzō's expression did not change.
Okabe and Enaka Tsushi — sisters, loyal to Danzō, terrifying in their own quiet ways — stood nearby, watching everything with unblinking precision. Malik glanced toward them.
"Early spring?" Malik asked.
Okabe lifted a brow. "Correct."
Enaka added, "Your son is impatient. Much like his mother."
Danzō's black eyes narrowed in annoyance at the faint smirk Enaka wore.
Malik chuckled and — with a sweep of glowing pink-gold magic — conjured a floating screen in the air, showing the live image of Anko's team training.
The dome.
The drills.
The failing and rising.
The sparks of potential.
Danzō watched Sai first.
Her gaze sharpened.
He moves well. Better than before. Shisui's influence shows. Irritating.
But necessary.
Malik stroked her stomach absentmindedly, completely unaware of the murderous thoughts flickering behind Danzō's serene mask.
He is too gentle, Danzō thought coldly.
Too forgiving. Too willing to cradle the world in warm hands. That softness will inspire them… but softness does not temper steel.
She didn't say it aloud. She never said such things aloud around him.
Instead, she said, "Your students grow."
Malik smiled. "They do. Anko is doing well. I'm proud."
Danzō's thoughts curled darker.
Of course you are proud. Of course you love them.
You would love even a traitor — even me. Foolish man.
Beautiful, foolish, necessary man.
She looked back at the image of Sai.
He needs a harsher test. Pain reveals truth.
Pain binds better than love ever will.
Though Malik would never allow that.
She exhaled slowly.
Unless someone convinces him.
Two Wives, Two Minds, One Conclusion
At the exact same moment, miles apart, two women who despised one another reached the same thought.
Shisui, from her hiding place:
This team needs something real. Something frightening.
Something that forces them to rely on each other… or break.
Malik will hesitate. He always hesitates if the test risks hurting them.
I'll need to speak with… tch. Her.
Danzō, from her lounge chair:
A harsher test. A true trial. They must bleed, even metaphorically.
Shisui will know this as well.
Speaking to her will be irritating.
But necessary.
Both women scowled at nothing.
Both thought nearly identical thoughts:
"I can't believe I have to work with her."
Shisui:
She'll be insufferable.
Probably smug.
And too proud to admit I'm right.
Danzō:
She will be dramatic.
Emotional.
And too arrogant to admit I am superior.
Then, in perfect bitter symmetry, both grudgingly added:
"…but the team will benefit."
And finally:
"…and Malik will be pleased."
They both hated that thought the most.
They both cherished it the most.
A perfect balance.
A perfect rivalry.
A perfect, terrible alliance waiting to happen.
=== A Good amount of time later ===
The meeting place was neutral territory, chosen by Malik because it was one of the few places neither woman had ever spilled blood in:
His sunlit tea room.
A small space made of warm cedar wood, its windows facing a serene koi pond Malik had built, the pond and fish, much older than himself. Incense burned from a small jade dragon dish on the low table, faint wisps curling upward.
Malik stood between them like a hopeful mediator, smiling brightly… and cluelessly.
Shisui sat on the left, posture loose but deceptively ready. Her dark hair was pinned up, framing her Black but somehow bright eyes, her Sharingan just waiting. She wore a fitted black jacket and leggings — casual, but easy to fight in.
Danzō sat on the right, reclining with the poise of nobility. Her long black hair flowed behind her in perfect dark waves. Her hands rested atop the swell of her pregnant belly, her expression calm, assessing. Her pale black eyes flicked toward Shisui only once — and that was enough to thicken the air for several heartbeats.
It was like watching two storms observe each other.
Not clashing yet, but calculating if it would be worth it.
Malik, poor sweet man, had no idea what he had arranged.
He clasped his hands. "I'm glad you two wanted to talk! I was hoping you'd—"
Together, Shisui and Danzō turned their eyes on Malik.
Two gazes.
Two powerhouses.
One shared intention:
Get him out of the room.
"Malik," Shisui said smoothly, her voice soft but firm, "you left a sealing crate in the greenhouse. The cold will warp the ink."
Danzō nodded regally. "And the Tsushi sisters need your signature on the supply ledger."
Malik blinked. "Oh—right! I can take care of that."
He moved to leave.
Shisui added gently, "Take your time."
Danzō added, "And drink some water. You forget."
He laughed, touched. "You two always take such good care of me."
They smiled at him.
Identical.
Perfect.
Weaponized. Malik didn't leave right away.
He stepped closer to Shisui first, his smile softening into something private. She tilted her head just slightly, her eyes still sharp but her posture relaxing as he approached. He leaned down and kissed her forehead—slow, deliberate, reverent. His hand brushed her shoulder, thumb tracing the edge of her collar.
"You look like a storm dressed for diplomacy, but I'm hoping that's a good sigh instead of a red flag," he murmured. "But your still Sharp and beautiful and Thank you for coming."
Shisui's lips twitched. "I came for the tea."
He grinned. "Oh, I'm sure you did and stayed for the tension it seems . . ."
She didn't deny it.
Then he turned to Danzō.
She didn't move, didn't shift, didn't blink. But her gaze followed him as he approached, and her fingers curled slightly atop her belly. Malik knelt beside her, one hand resting gently on her knee, the other brushing her hair back with a tenderness that defied every rumor about her.
He kissed her cheek—light, respectful, and utterly unafraid.
"You look like a queen preparing for war," he said quietly. "Terrifying and radiant. Thank you for trusting me."
Danzō's eyes narrowed, but not in rejection. "I trust the outcome," she said.
He smiled. "That's enough."
He stood, brushing his hands together like he'd just finished a sacred ritual. "You two are going to do great things together. I can feel it."
Shisui raised an eyebrow. "You feel a lot of things."
"True," Malik said. "But this one's real."
Danzō didn't respond, but her silence was not dismissal. It was calculation.
He turned toward the door, paused, and looked back one last time.
"Try not to kill each other," he said cheerfully. "Or at least wait until I've had lunch."
Shisui rolled her eyes.
Danzō blinked once.
Malik bowed his head, then slid the door open and stepped out, humming softly as it closed behind him.
The tea room fell into silence.
The incense smoke curled between the two women like a thread of fate—twisting, rising, trying to escape the weight of what was about to unfold.
Neither woman moved.
Neither spoke.
But both were already planning.
And Malik's warmth lingered in the room like a promise neither of them would admit they needed.
Then—
Everything shifted.
The warmth left Shisui's gaze.
The gentleness left Danzō's posture.
What remained:
Fire and iron.
The First Words
Danzō spoke first, her voice calm and sharp as a razor drawn across silk.
"Let us make something clear, Uchiha: this meeting is for his sake, not because I desire your company."
Shisui's smirk was immediate, casual, lethal.
"Oh good. I was worried you'd have gotten sentimental in your old age and confess admiration. Your restraint impresses me."
Danzō's eyebrow twitched.
Shisui folded her legs beneath her, leaning forward.
"You called for this meeting. Start talking."
Danzō inhaled slowly — a controlled breath honed from decades of command.
"I called for nothing. You were the one who triggered a chakra ping in my direction like a child tugging a sleeve."
Shisui's Sharingan flickered with annoyance.
"That was not a ping. That was a warning."
Danzō gave a slow, cold smile.
"Oh? Then consider this my acknowledgment. I am warned."
Shisui's fingers curled slightly.
Malik would be upset if I killed her in his tea room…
Danzō adjusted her seating slightly, one hand stroking her belly in thought.
If she lunges first, my loyalists outside will tear her apart. Or try. Malik would be furious… but it may be worth the risk.
A koi fish splashed outside.
Both women briefly turned their heads — evaluating angles, reflections, escape routes.
Neither trusted the other for even a blink.
A Shared Obsession
Shisui broke the silence this time.
"Let's cut to the chase. Sai. Isaribi. Karin. Anko. They need a real test — a painful one. You know that."
Danzō nodded slowly.
"Yes. Their current growth is acceptable, but insufficient. Malik shields them. Anko indulges them. Weakness remains."
Shisui gave a humorless laugh.
"Funny. I thought the same."
They stared at each other.
Fire meeting iron.
Matching tempers.
Opposing philosophies.
Danzō tilted her head. "You want them tested to force teamwork."
Shisui tilted hers. "You want them tested to weed out flaws."
Danzō smiled without emotion. "And you believe your goal is morally superior."
Shisui's eyes hardened. "And you believe your goal is strategically superior."
Their words hit each other like kunai flung with precision.
Snark. Venom. Respect.
Shisui rested her cheek on her fist.
"You're more talkative now that Malik isn't here. Interesting."
Danzō's smile was thin.
"And you are more arrogant now that you do not have to hide your insecurity from him."
Shisui's chakra flared.
Danzō's eyes sharpened, hand curling over her stomach protectively.
Shisui leaned forward, voice a whisper of lethal silk.
"I'm more dangerous than insecure."
Danzō matched her, lowering her voice with icy calm.
"And I am more unkillable than you assume."
Their auras crackled.
Wind rustled the shoji screen.
A teacup rattled on its saucer.
Neither woman blinked.
Then—
Shisui exhaled.
Danzō settled back.
They both relaxed by a fraction.
Cold Alignment
"As much as I dislike saying this," Shisui began cautiously, "we agree."
Danzō's lips thinned in distaste.
"Yes. Unfortunately."
Shisui gestured at the floating image Malik left behind — the team training, frozen mid-motion.
"They're growing, yes. But slowly. Too slowly. They need fear. They need vulnerability."
Danzō tapped her fingers. "They need the illusion of loss. Something that fractures them individually so they cling to one another."
Shisui nodded once. "A crisis."
Danzō nodded once. "A wound."
Shisui stared. "You're surprisingly poetic for a war criminal."
Danzō smirked. "You're surprisingly intelligent for someone who married into chaos."
Shisui huffed.
"Married? He married us."
Danzō's eyebrow arched.
"And yet he listens more to you."
Shisui leaned back, lifting her chin.
"And he touches you more gently. Probably because he's afraid of breaking the baby."
Danzō's eyes glimmered with dangerous amusement.
"Jealous? How unbecoming."
Shisui rolled her eyes.
"You're pregnant, not superior."
Danzō clicked her tongue.
"I do not need pregnancy for superiority."
Shisui paused.
Danzō paused.
Both reluctantly, grudgingly, almost painfully…
smiled.
The first crack in hostility.
The Agreement That Should Never Exist
Shisui spoke first.
"We need to decide what test they face."
Danzō nodded.
"Yes. Something Malik will approve of… and something he won't realize is harsher than it appears."
Shisui tapped her chin.
"I could create a genjutsu scenario. Real enough to wound, fake enough to avoid trauma."
Danzō shook her head.
"Genjutsu alone is not enough. Their bodies must be tested alongside their minds."
Shisui raised an eyebrow.
"So a hybrid test. A scenario that mixes reality and illusion."
Danzō's eyes gleamed.
"Illusion that inflicts emotional pressure. Reality that forces them to act."
Shisui grinned.
"You want to break them."
Danzō returned the grin, chilling and elegant.
"You want to rebuild them."
Shisui nodded.
"And we both want them alive."
Danzō rested a hand on her stomach.
"And Malik… content."
They stared at one another.
Fire and iron.
Not friends.
Not allies.
Not even civil.
But aligned.
Deadly.
Perfectly aligned.
The Final Snarl
Shisui rose first.
Danzō rose second, slower due to her pregnancy, but with equal dignity.
They stood face to face, almost nose to nose.
"Do not mistake this for peace," Danzō warned.
"Do not mistake this for obedience," Shisui countered.
A faint static danced between them.
Danzō's voice softened with lethal certainty.
"If you harm my child's future… I will end you."
Shisui's smile went cold.
"If you hurt Malik again… I will end you."
They paused.
Then both inclined their heads by a single degree.
A bow.
A threat.
A promise.
Cooperation through mutual destruction.
Malik Returns
The door slid open.
Malik peeked in, bright and oblivious.
"All done! Did you two have a good talk?"
Both women turned toward him in perfect synchronization, wearing identical serene smiles.
Shisui: "Lovely discussion."
Danzō: "Enlightening."
Malik beamed. "See?! I knew you'd get along eventually!"
Behind him, two koi leapt out of the pond and slapped back into the water — like nature itself facepalming.
Danzō and Shisui exchanged a look.
Not hatred.
Not peace.
Not friendship.
A contract forged in rivalry and necessity.
Fire and iron.
A terrifying alliance.
And together, without speaking, they both thought:
"For him… just this once."