Naruto: The Architect

It had been two hours since Hiroshi—in his ridiculous Oni mask, somehow captured Kisame using a worm.

Two Hours, Konan still couldn't wrap her head around how the Shark of the Hidden Mist had gone from snarling with rage to sitting cross-legged by a campfire, looking like he was on a fishing trip with an old friend.

But here they were.

Kisame, the ferocious wielder of Samehada, the shinobi who had once gutted entire squads without batting an eye, was now wolfing down roasted dear like he hadn't eaten in a decade.

And Hiroshi, their oddball new recruit who seemed like more of a chef than a ninja, was casually flipping another chunk of meat over the fire like he was hosting a barbecue.

Konan leaned against a nearby tree, watching the bizarre spectacle unfold. Her thoughts raced.

How did it come to this?

When Hiroshi had first removed the sealing chains from Kisame, she'd braced herself for chaos. She expected Kisame to grab his sword, swing it wildly, and try to rip Hiroshi apart.

But no. As soon as Hiroshi pulled out a freshly hunted deer and started prepping it with an almost alarming level of enthusiasm, Kisame froze.

Literally froze.

The man went from "feral beast" to "curious neighbor girl" in seconds, his predatory glare softening into something akin to... hunger?

No, desperation. When Hiroshi started roasting the meat and the rich aroma filled the air, Kisame finally stopped struggling altogether.

And now, here they were.

Kisame tore into a chunk of meat like it was the most important battle of his life. Grease dripped down his chin, and his sharp teeth tore into the meat with alarming efficiency.

He didn't even bother with a plate—just grabbed whatever Hiroshi handed him straight off the fire.

Konan pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing deeply. This is your partner now, Pain, she thought, imagining Pain's disapproving scowl.

"What?" Kisame said through a mouthful of meat, noticing her judgmental stare. "You've got a problem?"

"Yes," Konan said dryly. "I have several, actually."

"Oh, come on, Konan," Hiroshi chimed in, flipping another piece of meat with a casual flick of his wrist.

"Lighten up. We're bonding! This is how you form trust with your new teammates."

"Do you want a piece?" Hiroshi asked, holding up a perfectly roasted chunk of meat that glistened in the firelight.

Konan scoffed, reaching into her pouch to pull out a ration pill.

"No, thanks. I'll stick with this." She popped the pill into her mouth with all the enthusiasm of someone chewing a rock.

Both Hiroshi and Kisame stared at her. Kisame paused mid-bite, his expression somewhere between pity and disbelief.

"That's what you're eating?" Kisame asked,

"Yes," Konan said firmly.

Hiroshi grinned under his mask. "You know, I've heard those ration pills taste like chalk. Or worse, regret."

Konan ignored him, focusing on chewing. But it was hard to ignore the exaggerated moans of satisfaction coming from both Kisame and Hiroshi as they devoured more venison.

"Oh, man," Kisame said, holding up a half-eaten piece. "This is amazing. I don't even care if it's poisoned. Totally worth it."

"Thanks," Hiroshi said, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. "That means a lot coming from you, buddy."

Konan rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small twitch of her lips. It was absurd—completely absurd—but she had to admit, the smell of the roasted meat was starting to get to her.

The final piece of venison sat on the plate between them, glistening temptingly in the firelight. Hiroshi reached for it, then paused dramatically, turning to Konan. "Last piece. It's all yours if you want it."

Konan glanced at the meat, then back at her now-empty ration pill pouch. Her pride screamed at her to refuse, but her stomach was starting to make noise.

"I'm fine," she said through gritted teeth.

"You sure?" Hiroshi asked, waving the meat in front of her like a pendulum. "Because I'd hate to see you suffer."

Kisame, who was already licking his fingers, snorted. "Just take it, lady. No one should have to eat those stupid pills when this is on the table."

Konan clenched her fists, determined to hold her ground. But then Hiroshi took a bite, letting out an exaggerated groan of delight that could've won him an Oscar.

"Oh, wow," Hiroshi said, his voice muffled by the meat. "This is... this is incredible. Like, life-changing."

Konan snapped.

"Fine!" she shouted, snatching the meat off from hiroshis hands with a speed that surprised even her.

She bit into it aggressively, refusing to acknowledge the triumphant grin she could feel radiating from Hiroshi.

...

"The mission to recruit Kisame Hoshigaki has been completed successfully," Konan said, her voice steady and professional.

Pain nodded slightly, leaning forward.

"Details?"

Konan hesitated for a moment, as if unsure where to begin. How exactly was she supposed to explain... that?

"Well," she started, choosing her words carefully, "new recriut, or as he calls himself in his masked form, 'Oni,'... had a rather unconventional approach."

Pain raised an eyebrow. "Unconventional how?"

Konan exhaled, deciding there was no use sugarcoating it. "He... used a worm on a fishing hook to bait Kisame."

For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint dripping of rainwater. Pain blinked slowly, as if waiting for her to correct herself. "A worm," he repeated flatly.

"Yes," Konan confirmed, her tone utterly serious. "A worm. On a hook."

Pain leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "And this worked?"

"Against all odds," Konan admitted, "yes. Though, not without incident.

Kisame predictably, was enraged and attempted to attack. Hiroshi had already anticipated this and laid a trap. He used adamantium sealing chains to subdue Kisame."

Pain's Rinnegan glowed faintly in the dim light, his expression unreadable.

"Adamantium sealing chains... And this man is now cooperating?"

Konan nodded, a faint twitch of amusement tugging at her lips. "Not only cooperating—by the time I returned from handling a perimeter check, Kisame was sitting by a campfire, sharing roasted deer with Hiroshi as if they'd been friends for years."

Pain's composure faltered ever so slightly. "Roasted deer?."

"Yes," Konan confirmed again, biting back the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all. "He had hunted a deer, cooked it, and somehow convinced Kisame to sit down and eat with him. By the time I returned, they were joking and laughing like old comrades."

Pain pressed a hand to his temple, massaging it slowly. "This... Oni... Do you think he's a shinobi who has done missions like this before? His methods are... unconventional, but disturbingly effective."

Konan thought for a moment, recalling Hiroshi's odd mannerisms, his ability to plan ten steps ahead, and his unsettling knack for winning people over despite his eccentricity.

"Yes," she said at last. "I think he's far more experienced than he lets on. His skillset doesn't align with any particular village's training methods, but it's clear he's been trained to a very high level in... something."

Pain tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair, deep in thought. "His unconventional methods may prove useful. We'll need people like him for the coming days."

Konan allowed herself a small smile, though she quickly suppressed it. Pain caught the fleeting expression, and for the first time in what felt like years, he saw a flicker of something he hadn't seen in Konan for a long time—genuine amusement.

"Konan," Pain said, his tone softer now, "you seem... different."

"Different?" she asked, tilting her head.

"You're smiling,"

...