Getting caught in the rain is bad for your health.

“That kid is Hoshigaki Kisame? He’s a real piece of work.”
“He’s practically a monster.”
Ever since he’d used “Mad Dog Style” taijutsu to take on a crowd single-handedly in front of the Mizukage’s building, Kisame had developed a bit of a reputation in the village, earning himself the moniker “Mad Dog Kisame.”

Kisame paid no attention to the others in the gym, focusing all his concentration on his workout.

At the moment, he was on the leg press, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion. His face was flushed, every muscle compensating for the strain, a mask of pain etched across his features.

This was the final set—just three more reps, and he’d complete today’s training.

“Yebati, Levi Bebe!” Kisame let out a low, guttural roar, spurring himself onward. The veins in his legs bulged as he summoned every ounce of strength from his lower body and pushed the weight up.

Three. Two. One.

Finishing the final rep, Kisame exhaled deeply, unfastened his belt, and carefully lowered his trembling legs.

As those around watched in astonishment, he all but leaned against the wall, inching his way out of the gym, his legs shaking so violently it seemed he might collapse at any moment.

“That kid’s ruthless to his enemies, but even harsher on himself. Best not to cross him,” one Kirigakure ninja remarked, watching Kisame’s retreating figure with genuine admiration. His words resonated, and the others nodded in agreement.

At the street corner, a silent figure appeared, eyes fixed on Kisame as he disappeared from sight.

It was Zabuza Momochi.

“Training… does it really help?” Zabuza muttered to himself, a derisive laugh escaping his lips. In his view, real combat was the only true form of training—the more you killed, the stronger you became.

With his cold and belligerent nature, Zabuza had set his sights on Kisame as an interesting prey from the moment he’d seen him outside the Mizukage’s building.

But for now, Zabuza had other tasks. He’d be leaving the village for a while on a mission. When he returned, he was determined to challenge Kisame and see what the boy was made of.

With that thought, Zabuza’s lips curled into a smile as he turned and vanished into the rain.

The days that followed were uneventful.

Kisame settled into a monotonous routine: mornings at the gym, afternoons training in the woods, and nights spent sleeping at home.

Before he knew it, three months had slipped by.

Standing in the gym, Kisame stripped off his shirt and examined his reflection in the mirror.

Three months ago, he’d been a twelve-year-old boy, standing 170 centimeters tall and weighing 65 kilograms—a figure marked by youthful awkwardness.

Three months later, he was still twelve, but his height had soared to 185 centimeters and his weight had ballooned to 100 kilograms. Now, he was a veritable powerhouse of muscle.

Were it not for that unmistakable shark-like face, it would be hard to believe he was the same person.

Kisame now possessed a flawless, V-shaped torso. The veins in his arms bulged, his eight-pack abs looked chiseled, his legs were thick and powerful, and most impressive of all were his pectorals—broad as doors, full as rolling hills, the kind of chest any fitness enthusiast would envy.

This physique was forged from three months of hellish training and endless sweat.

Kisame clenched his fist, the bones cracking audibly. The explosive power coursing through his muscles gave him a profound sense of satisfaction.

With his body as it was now, he could easily devour two more Lightning Blades in a single breath without any trouble.

What’s more, Kisame could feel that his potential had only just begun to be tapped—he was nowhere near his limits.

After all, in the original story, Kisame as an adult reached 195 centimeters, making him the tallest member of the Akatsuki—a charter member of the “Naruto Giants Club.”

Unfortunately, Kisame’s training plan would have to be put on hold for a while.

As a lower-ranking member of the village, he’d been resting from injury and hadn’t taken a mission in three months—his “vacation” had long since reached its limit.

There was also a more pressing reason.

The Sand ninja had returned.

Previously, the villages of Suna and Kiri had clashed over the iron ore resources of the southern coastal peninsula. In the end, Kirigakure’s proximity and maritime prowess allowed them to seize control of the mining island.

Naturally, Sunagakure’s leaders were unwilling to accept this outcome, so they sent small, covert teams into the Land of Water to wreak havoc.

Just moments ago, Kisame had received a summons, ordering him to report to the mission office at dawn and join a squad to hunt down the enemy.

He needed to prepare.

With that in mind, Kisame headed for the showers, then dressed and prepared to leave the gym.

“Hmm? Is it raining?”

As he emerged from the shower, he looked out the window to see a somber sky, rain falling in fine sheets, and people hurrying along the streets, seeking shelter.

Kisame grabbed an umbrella and stepped outside.

He strode purposefully through the rain and, after crossing two streets, caught sight of a slim figure with long red hair not far ahead—someone who looked familiar.

Her?

Kisame was a little surprised but approached without betraying his thoughts.

In the rain.

Mei Terumi walked slowly down the street, her head bowed and brow furrowed, lost in thought.

She hadn’t bothered with an umbrella. Her clothes and hair were soaked, but she seemed oblivious, wandering aimlessly.

Just hours earlier, Mei had volunteered for the mission to hunt down the Sand ninja, only to be flatly refused by her clan elders.

The reason: it was too dangerous.

After all, the last time a Kirigakure squad was sent on that mission, nearly all were killed—even Kuroari Raiga, one of the Seven Swordsmen, died at the enemy’s hands.

This time, the Third Mizukage had dispatched the formidable and ruthless duo as squad leaders, but those two were infamous madmen who never cared for their subordinates’ lives.

So, there was no way Mei’s clan would let their most talented prodigy risk herself.

Such perilous missions were best left to the village’s lower-class shinobi—there were plenty of them, after all.

Suddenly, a dark figure appeared beside Mei, snapping her from her reverie.

The rain… had stopped?

Mei sensed something different and looked up in surprise. There, standing beside her, was a tall young man holding an umbrella over her head, shielding her from the rain.

“Getting caught in the rain isn’t good for your health,” the man said, offering Mei the umbrella.

“Th-thank you.”

Mei took the umbrella from him, studying his features. The shark-like markings on his cheeks made him look familiar—like an old classmate.

“You’re… Hoshigaki Kisame?!”

She covered her mouth in astonishment, eyes wide.

The last time Mei had seen Kisame was three months ago. The fight outside the Mizukage’s building was still fresh in her memory and had completely changed her impression of her old classmate.

She never expected that, after just a few months, the once awkward youth would become the imposing figure before her.

Mei was deeply shocked.

“It’s me,” Kisame nodded, offering a casual explanation. “I seem to have hit puberty and started to grow rapidly. I’ve also gotten into fitness lately, gained a lot of muscle, and ended up like this.”

After speaking, Kisame showed no desire to linger, continuing on his way.

He harbored no special feelings for Mei Terumi—he’d helped simply because he saw an old classmate out in the rain.