6. The Mystery of Kisame's Origins

Within the Village Hidden in the Mist, the various clans were organized in a strictly hierarchical pyramid. The first-tier families were those whose ancestors had lived and multiplied in the village for generations, such as the renowned Hozuki clan. The second-tier families were those who, throughout the long and war-torn history, had been steadfast companions of the Mist, like the families of Mei Terumi and Yagura Karatachi. At the bottom were the third-tier families—those who had been conquered and assimilated during the wars. Kisame Hoshigaki and Zabuza Momochi both hailed from such families.

For people like them, being born into the lowest stratum meant that in order to become a ninja, they had to endure the brutal “comrades-slaughtering” graduation exam. In contrast, scions of great families like Mei Terumi were exempt from such trials. In the Mist Village, missions were not assigned based on a ninja’s actual ability, but rather on their status. The filthiest, most dangerous tasks were always left to those at the bottom. After all, those from the lowest class—like Kisame and Zabuza—could betray the village at any time, becoming threats themselves. Such people were perfect cannon fodder.

This was the system of the Bloody Mist, instituted by the Third Mizukage—oppressive, cold-blooded, and cruel. Under such a bizarre regime, it was little wonder the village rapidly declined; in the not-so-distant future, coups, riots, and rebellions would become commonplace.

Kisame’s ancestors had once been a clan of fishmen living on a remote island. After their homeland was annexed by the Land of Water, the Hoshigaki clan was forced to join the Mist Village, becoming nothing more than expendable soldiers in its ninja corps. Years of attrition had whittled the clan down to a mere handful by Kisame’s generation. The bonds and honor that once held the family together had long since faded; now, its few remaining members barely interacted at all.

Kisame had grown up alone, all his relatives dead. His mother, an outsider, died in childbirth; his father, though he had managed to become a Chunin, could not escape the fate of the lower class and died during a dangerous mission. From that moment on, Kisame lived on his own, gradually developing a taciturn and solitary nature.

His home stood by a river at the edge of the village, a wooden shack built by his father when he was still alive. The house was shabby, but for Kisame, it was enough to have a place that kept out the wind and rain.

In the fine, misty rain, he limped home and closed the door behind him, sinking heavily onto the battered sofa. For the next several days, Kisame lay low at home, focusing on his recovery, going nowhere. They say it takes a hundred days to heal the bones and tendons, but Kisame’s body recovered with astonishing speed—within a week, he had removed all his bandages and was as good as new.

A vast potential of chakra, a remarkable ability to recover... Kisame felt an uncanny familiarity with his own constitution, which led to some speculations. What surprised him even more was that, while sorting through his father’s belongings during his convalescence, Kisame discovered a bloodstained forehead protector. At its center, black lines formed a spiral—the unmistakable crest of the Uzumaki clan as Kisame remembered it.

In the past, he wouldn’t have thought much of it. His father had once boasted drunkenly that he participated in the war that destroyed the Land of Whirlpools years ago. That forehead protector was probably just a trophy taken from a formidable foe. But as a transmigrator, Kisame’s understanding of the story, along with scattered childhood memories, gradually led him to a startling deduction.

He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and his eyes glinted with an unusual light. From what Kisame knew, all chakra in the shinobi world originated from Kaguya Otsutsuki. She bore two sons, Hagoromo and Hamura, and as their descendants spread through the world, chakra dispersed across the continent. This family was the source of all chakra in the ninja world.

Thus, the world of the shinobi was one where bloodlines reigned supreme—the closer one’s lineage to the Sage of Six Paths, Hagoromo Otsutsuki, the more noble and powerful the blood, the greater the “hacks” conferred by heritage. Uchiha, Senju, Uzumaki, Hyuga—these illustrious families were all descended from the Sage or his brother. The history of the shinobi was, in essence, a saga of internal strife among the Sage’s descendants; all others merely played supporting roles upon the grand stage.

Given Kisame’s appearance, one would never imagine any connection to the Sage of Six Paths. Which raised the question: where did the vast chakra within him—on par with a Tailed Beast—come from?

In the original story, Neji Hyuga once remarked that Kisame possessed more chakra than anyone he’d ever seen except Naruto, and at the time, that Kisame was only a clone with a third of his real chakra. In other words, Kisame’s actual reserves probably rivaled Naruto’s.

But in a world ruled by bloodlines, it was impossible for an ordinary person to possess such enormous chakra. There was only one explanation—Kisame was no ordinary man.

Twelve years ago, in the thirty-second year since the founding of the Leaf Village, the Second Great Ninja War was underway. The Land of Whirlpools was destroyed during that war by the combined forces of many powers, with the Mist playing a key role. Coincidentally, Kisame was born that year, brought back to the village by his father. His mother, about whom his father always remained reticent, was said to have died in childbirth. Yet, when drunk, his father let slip many things.

“Could it be... was my mother an Uzumaki kunoichi?” Kisame murmured, stroking the bloodstained forehead protector in his hand. Those dried blood spots, like tiny blossoms—could that be his mother’s blood?

The past was gone, and Kisame had no way of knowing what truly transpired between his parents’ generation. It likely wasn’t a tragic love story but a sordid tale of invaders abducting women, forcing them to bear children, and then killing them. If his mother had survived, she probably would never have acknowledged him as her son—she might have wished to kill him with her own hands. At this, Kisame gave a bitter, self-mocking smile.

Who would have thought that even a lowly fish like him might carry the direct bloodline of the Sage of Six Paths? His father’s actions, perhaps, had been a desperate attempt to improve the family’s bloodline, pinning his hopes on Kisame, wishing his son might defy fate and escape the destiny of cannon fodder.

Then again, though the Hoshigaki clan was unimpressive in strength, its genes were undoubtedly strong. At the very least, Kisame’s shark-like features had completely masked any sign of the Uzumaki’s trademark red hair.

Shaking his head to dispel the thought, Kisame casually tossed the forehead protector into the fireplace, letting it melt away in the flames. With both parents dead, whether he was truly an Uzumaki descendant would remain forever a mystery.

But one thing Kisame knew for certain: within this body of his, a tremendous power lay dormant—a treasure trove waiting to be unearthed. The potential of his chakra reserves was in no way inferior to those of Naruto Uzumaki or Nagato, the chosen ones of their era.