Chapter 180: The Fūma Clan
Chapter 180: The Fūma Clan, Part 1
The next few weeks passed by smoothly.
Sasame had returned to her town to gather the remaining members of the Fūma Clan. During that time, Malik found himself busy aiding the prisoners who had been held captive by Orochimaru's forces. Day by day, he sent them back to their homes, towns, and villages, helping them regain a sense of normalcy. GrubGrub, his ever-loyal Harpy Eagle summon, was used to ferry them in large groups. Malik made sure each one left with a healthy sum of money, but he knew—just by the look in their eyes—that no amount of gold could heal the scars left by years of torment.
As they departed, most thanked him, but the darkness in their expressions was hard to miss. Malik knew that their paths to healing would be long and uncertain.
Meanwhile, the former Fūma Clan members who had served under Orochimaru were handed the scroll from Kabuto that dismissed them from her service. Their reactions varied:
Jigumo, with his spider-like limbs and thick eyebrows, seemed almost insulted. His loyalty to Orochimaru was fierce, and being discarded like this felt like a betrayal. His rage simmered beneath the surface, but Malik could tell Jigumo was still processing his newfound freedom.
Kamikiri was more conflicted. The shinobi with the large pincer blade showed no emotion initially but would often retreat into silence, staring off into the distance. His sense of purpose had been tied to Orochimaru, and without that, it seemed as if he were a man without a path.
Kotohime, on the other hand, seemed largely unbothered. Her flirtatious nature remained intact, and she approached the situation with an almost carefree attitude. "Orochimaru never promised permanence," she had said with a smirk, "so I'm free to pursue other interests."
With each passing day, Malik divided his time between rebuilding the old base—transforming it from an underground prison into something more livable—and watching over Kagerō's unconscious body. Three weeks had passed, and although her injuries were healed, Kagerō hadn't woken up yet. Malik had entered her dreams many times, only to find her peacefully sleeping there too. Her emotions were calm, and her breathing steady, but the fact that she remained comatose worried him. He clung to hope, knowing that something inside her still needed time to heal.
In the meantime, he summoned workers from a nearby town to help with the restoration of the base. Though they were wary at first, Malik's charm—and his generous pay—soon put them at ease. Slowly but surely, the base started to resemble something more hospitable, losing its dark prison-like appearance.
By the time Sasame returned with a large group of Fūma Clan members, the transformation was well underway. Malik stood at the entrance, watching the clan members filter in, a mix of curiosity and determination on their faces.
As they arrived, Malik recalled what he knew about them:
The Fūma Clan, once proud and skilled, had split into two factions. Some had followed Orochimaru, tricked by her promises to restore their clan's former glory. Others had turned to criminal activity, considered traitors by the rest. The clan specialized in using chakra threads and archery, possessing hidden techniques, such as the Curse Mandala. Now, after years of turmoil, they had a chance at redemption.
Sasame found Malik by Kagerō's side, where he'd spent much of his time. She greeted him with a warm smile.
"How's everything been since I left?" Sasame asked, concern in her voice.
Malik leaned back in his chair, casting a glance at Kagerō. "Busy, to say the least," he replied. "Most of the prisoners have been sent back to their homes. The workers here are rebuilding the base, and Kagerō… well, she's still resting. I've been keeping an eye on her, but she's stubborn. She'll wake up when she's ready."
Sasame nodded, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Malik. I don't know what we'd do without you."
Before Malik could respond, a man entered the room. His dark eyes and cheek-length brown hair made him seem formidable. A red band was wrapped around his head, marking him as someone of importance.
"Hanzaki!" Sasame exclaimed, walking over to greet him. "This is our clan leader."
Hanzaki's gaze settled on Malik, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "So, you must be that Malik."
Sasame blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Hanzaki chuckled. "Sasame, do you not know? This man is the richest person in the Land of Fire. Possibly one of the richest on the entire continent."
Sasame stared at Malik, her mouth slightly agape as the realization dawned on her. "Wait… Malik? The famous baker? The one with all those shops?"
Malik gave her a soft, almost playful smile. "Yep, that's me. Famous for pastries and riches."
Sasame blinked, still processing the revelation, before giving Malik a look of disbelief. "And here I thought you were just some kind of wandering hero."
Malik winked at her. "Can't I be both?"
As laughter filled the room, Malik leaned back with a satisfied grin. "You know," he said, "if I can make the best pastries in the world, fixing up an old shinobi clan should be a piece of cake."
The morning sun barely crept into the hidden base as Malik prepared breakfast for the entire Fūma Clan. The scent of sizzling meat and freshly baked bread filled the air, a comforting contrast to the dim underground hideout that once held only fear and sorrow. Malik, wearing an apron over his usual fine attire, skillfully maneuvered between the cooking pots and pans, his magic helping speed the process along.
Unbeknownst to him, Kotohime had quietly slipped into the room, her gaze locked on Malik. Since waking up from her injuries, Kotohime had taken to watching Malik's every move. Sometimes, she followed him from a distance, and other times, she'd approach and flirt only to leave abruptly. It had become a little game of hers, and Malik, ever perceptive, had long since noticed.
As Malik flipped a pancake, he sensed her presence. "Morning, Kotohime," he said without turning around. He wasn't surprised to see her, especially after the many times she had shadowed him.
Kotohime pouted slightly, her footsteps light as she approached him. "You're always so aware, Malik. I can never sneak up on you, can I?" Her voice was playful, but Malik could tell there was something else beneath the surface—something she wasn't saying.
He allowed her to make small talk as he stirred the eggs, but he knew Kotohime wasn't just here to chit-chat. He didn't push her, though. She'd speak when she was ready.
Just as she seemed on the verge of saying something important, Sasame waltzed in, the aroma of breakfast having stirred her from her sleep. Her hair was still tousled from the pillow, and her eyes widened when she saw the feast Malik had prepared.
"Malik! This smells amazing!" Sasame exclaimed, reaching for a piece of bread.
With a swift motion, Malik smacked her hand away before she could grab the food. "Not yet, Sasame. Wait until it's all ready," he scolded gently, his tone light-hearted.
Sasame pouted, rubbing her hand, but Malik's attention shifted for a moment. He turned back to Kotohime, but she had already disappeared, slipping away as quietly as she had come. Malik sighed inwardly but didn't dwell on it.
After breakfast, Malik made sure to rope Sasame into helping him clean up, much to her dismay. "You help make the mess, you help clean it," he teased, handing her a sponge.
Once the cleaning was mostly done—Sasame still muttering under her breath about how unfair it was—Hanzaki, the leader of the Fūma Clan, approached Malik with a serious expression.
"Malik, what exactly do you want from my clan?" Hanzaki asked, his voice low but direct.
Malik smiled at the question. "What do I want?" He paused, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I want nothing but the best for your clan. I want to see you all thrive."
Hanzaki shook his head, clearly skeptical. "A man as rich as you doesn't do things for free. What's the catch? What's in it for you?"
Malik rolled his eyes at the cynicism, motioning for Sasame to finish cleaning up as he sat down at the table with Hanzaki. His demeanor shifted, becoming more serious.
"I don't do this for money or power," Malik began, his voice steady. "I do this because I believe in the potential of your clan. The Fūma Clan has been broken, scattered, and left for dead, but I see strength in that. You've survived through the worst. You've been betrayed, abandoned, but you're still here. And that means something."
Hanzaki remained silent, listening carefully.
Malik continued, his voice filled with conviction. "This place—this base that was once Orochimaru's prison—it can be the foundation for something greater. This can be the first stone in rebuilding the Fūma Clan. Your clan doesn't have a hidden village, but if that's the path you want, I'll support it. You have my wealth, my influence, and my loyalty."
Hanzaki narrowed his eyes. "But why? Why us?"
Malik shrugged nonchalantly as he stood up, pacing around the room. "Why not? I've helped rebuild other places, given others a chance. This is no different. Your clan has suffered enough. It's time for a change."
He walked toward the door, preparing to leave, but paused when Hanzaki asked, "What about the daimyō of the Land of the Rice Fields? He won't just let us rise without interference."
Malik turned back, his expression thoughtful. "If Orochimaru hasn't already dealt with him, then he's probably just a puppet on a string. Let me handle him. I have ways of dealing with people like that."
Hanzaki nodded, though he remained cautious. Malik's words made sense, but the offer still seemed too good to be true.
Just as Malik was about to leave, Sasame caught up with him, her hands still damp from cleaning. "You're going to leave me with all this work?" she complained, shooting him an exasperated look.
Malik chuckled, walking over to her and placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. "I'll make it up to you later, Sasame. You know I always do." With a wink, he strolled out, leaving her behind to finish the job.
As Sasame groaned in frustration, Hanzaki watched Malik's retreating form and sighed. "I still don't trust that man."
Sasame, despite her annoyance, smiled softly. "Maybe. But he's done more for us in a few weeks than anyone else has in years."
Hanzaki grunted in response but didn't argue. Malik's intentions might be hard to read, but there was no denying that he had brought hope back to the Fūma Clan.
It was late, and the base had finally settled into a rare quiet. Deep within the labyrinthine halls, in a secluded room dimly lit by a soft lantern, Malik was just about to lay down for bed. He had spent the last few days ensuring the Fūma Clan's transition from Orochimaru's twisted influence went smoothly, and the weight of those efforts tugged at his eyes. But just as his head touched the pillow, Kagerō sat up straight in the bed next to him.
The covers slid off her shoulders, revealing her completely nude form. Malik, ever the gentleman, quickly reached to pull the covers back over her body, his instincts guiding him toward respect. But before his hand could grasp the fabric, Kagerō turned her head, her sharp eyes locking onto him. She caught his wrist, her grip surprisingly firm, though her face remained calm.
"Why am I not dead?" she asked, her voice quiet but steady, tinged with curiosity and confusion.
Malik shrugged, giving her one of his signature charming smiles. "I healed you," he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
For a long while, Kagerō just stared at him, her piercing eyes searching his for something. Malik, unsure what to say next, allowed the silence to linger. As he waited for her to speak, his gaze wandered briefly, drawn by the graceful curve of her form. Her skin was pale, almost luminescent in the low light, and despite the intensity of the moment, Malik couldn't help but admire her beauty. He was only human, after all.
Finally, she broke the silence. "Why?"
Malik looked back up at her face, realizing she wasn't concerned with modesty. She wasn't thinking about her nudity, only about why she had survived. With a smirk, he leaned in slightly, his voice lowering as he flirted effortlessly. "Well, Kagerō, a world without you would be a dull place. I couldn't let someone as beautiful and powerful as you slip away, now could I?"
A blush crept up her cheeks, though she did her best to hide it. Malik continued, his tone softening. "But it's not just about that. Your clan needs you, Kagerō. They need you."
He paused, his expression becoming more serious as he spoke of Arashi. "I wish I could have done more for him. Maybe I could've tried harder, but... he was too far gone. He knew things no one else in your clan did. Forbidden techniques. Powerful, yes, but at what cost?" Malik placed his other hand over hers, his warmth a comforting presence in the still room.
"Kagerō, if your strongest technique didn't kill you, imagine what you could do with it perfected. You're already a powerhouse—a full Jōnin. But if you were to master your Antlion Ninja Arts: Ephemeral, there's no limit to what you could accomplish. Your clan could finally find a real place in this world, with you leading them."
Kagerō's face grew more resolute, her eyes narrowing as she considered his words. She knew what he was saying was true. Her clan needed someone strong, someone with a clear vision for the future. Perhaps that person could be her.
"And besides," Malik added with a teasing glint in his eye, "you are quite beautiful. You have the strength of your ancestors, the grace of a ninja, and a presence that could make any man weak in the knees."
Kagerō's pale face deepened into a shade of crimson as Malik continued, his voice dipping into a more thoughtful tone. "You know, love is like a mayfly, brief and fragile but powerful in its fleeting existence. It doesn't always come when we expect it, and when it does, it can take us by surprise. But it's there, even in the smallest of moments, like a kiss or a promise whispered in the dark."
The blush spread further across her cheeks as Malik leaned in, his lips just inches from hers. He hesitated for a moment, his breath warm against her skin, but instead of kissing her, he pulled back. A mischievous smile tugged at his lips.
Reaching over, Malik placed a plate of freshly baked goods on her lap. "Eat these," he said, his tone playful yet sincere. "They're packed with protein. You need to regain your strength."
Before she could protest or respond, Malik stood up, adjusting his clothes. He gave her one last glance, his eyes briefly lingering on her before he turned toward the door. "Rest up, Kagerō. Your clan is waiting for you."
As he left the room, Kagerō found herself sitting there in stunned silence, her mind racing. She stared at the plate in her lap, Malik's words echoing in her head. Love is like a mayfly…
She thought back to the kiss Malik had stolen before and then buried her face in her pillow, embarrassed at how much she had begun to feel. Her first kiss… taken so unexpectedly. But now, she realized with a deepening blush, she didn't mind. Not at all.
Maybe, she thought to herself, I would like to fall in love.
As Malik wandered through the dimly lit halls, exhaustion clouded his thoughts. He was in a fog of sleep and daze, barely aware of his surroundings as he stumbled forward. His mind danced on the edge of unconsciousness, so much so that he didn't even notice the presence behind him until he felt someone grab him.
Before he could react, his face was pressed into a soft, warm, and undeniably bouncy chest. The sudden sensation jolted him from his stupor. Lifting his face slightly, Malik's tired eyes met the teasing gaze of Kotohime, who purred with delight as she felt his skin touch hers.
Malik pulled his head back from her ample bosom, blinking to clear his vision as he looked into her mischievous eyes. "Kotohime..." he started, recognizing the playful glint she often wore.
She smiled down at him but, noticing how utterly exhausted he was, decided to forgo her usual flirtatious advances. Instead, she gently took his hand and began leading him down the corridor. Malik followed, too tired to question it.
Kotohime's room was a stark contrast to the cold, utilitarian chambers in the rest of the base. One of the few Fūma Clan members who had followed Orochimaru, Kotohime had managed to claim a space of her own, and it showed. Her room was draped in rich fabrics, deep reds and purples, and soft rugs covered the stone floor. The furniture, though simple, was arranged to create a cozy, almost intimate atmosphere. There was an incense burner in the corner, filling the air with a calming, floral scent. Candles flickered softly on shelves and tables, casting a warm glow over the space. A large bed, with plush pillows and silk sheets, dominated the center of the room.
As she led him in, Kotohime was tempted to make a move, to draw Malik into her world of seduction. But she saw how tired he was, his eyes heavy with the weight of everything he had been doing. Instead, she simply guided him to the bed.
Malik collapsed onto the soft pillows, his body sinking into the bed as he released a long, relieved sigh. In a puff of pink smoke, his clothes magically shifted into his pajamas—comfy, loose, and perfect for sleep. His smooth dark skin and chubby frame nestled into the covers, and he could already feel the pull of sleep tugging him under.
Kotohime, watching him with a hint of affection, changed as well. She stood at the edge of the bed, slipping out of her clothes and into something more comfortable, though Malik, in his half-asleep state, missed the show entirely.
She climbed into bed next to him, making sure her body was pressed close to his. Their skin touched, and she tangled her limbs with his, savoring the warmth and comfort of his presence. As she kissed his forehead, a spark of electricity surged through her, sending waves of heat coursing through her body. It took her a long time to cool down, and even longer to fall asleep. The way Malik smelled, the feel of his skin—it made her body buzz with desire, but tonight wasn't the time for that. She finally drifted into slumber, holding him close.
When Malik woke hours later, he was disoriented. There was no window to gauge the time, and being underground made it difficult to tell whether it was day or night. What he did know was that his face was nestled in a soft, warm chest, and long black hair cascaded over him like a blanket.
Without thinking, Malik murmured, "Shisui..." the name of one of his wives, thinking for a moment he was back in his own home.
A soft, amused voice answered, "Is that your wife's name?" Kotohime's question jolted Malik awake fully, his eyes widening as he realized where he was—and more importantly, whose chest his face was buried in.
He scrambled upright, his heart racing. "Kotohime! I—uh... I didn't—" he started, then stopped, unsure of how to proceed.
Kotohime, now sitting up in bed, her large naked chest bouncing freely, shrugged with a teasing smile. "I brought you here to rest, nothing more," she said, though the twinkle in her eye suggested she had considered otherwise.
Malik, ever the gentleman, immediately apologized, thanking her for the kindness. He scratched his head, still trying to shake off the embarrassment, and thought to himself that he should have realized it wasn't Shisui—his wife's bosom was even larger, after all. Kotohime's were... well, nice, but not quite the same.
Kotohime stared off into the distance for a moment, her playful demeanor fading slightly. She seemed to gather her thoughts, and when she finally spoke, her voice was soft. "I'm sorry," she said, her gaze dropping to the bed. "I'm sorry for trying to kill you. And... thank you. Thank you for saving us."
Malik waved off her apology with a grin. "No big deal. We're good."
But Kotohime shook her head, her chest bouncing with the motion. "It's a big deal to me," she said. "Orochimaru didn't teach us much. She pushed us, made us stronger, sure. But if you couldn't keep up, you were dead. Either by her hand or your own failure."
She looked down, her voice quieter. "I'm not all that strong now, not like I thought I would be when I followed her. After a while, I realized we were just tools, an ends to a means for her. But leaving meant death, so... I stayed."
Malik listened patiently, giving her the space to speak. Kotohime's voice trembled slightly. "Sometimes, I wish I hadn't made it out alive. But now that I'm here... I don't know what to do."
Malik sat there for a moment, studying her. "Kotohime," he said softly, "you're free now. Free to do as you wish. But the truth is, your clan still needs you. The Fūma Clan needs your strength. You left them to restore their glory, didn't you? Why not do that now?"
Kotohime seemed to ponder his words, the weight of them settling in. Malik stood up, ready to leave her to her thoughts, but before he could go, her hair snaked out and wrapped around his leg, stopping him in his tracks. She pouted slightly, her voice teasing as she said, "You shouldn't leave me alone, naked and vulnerable. Not without having a little fun first."
Malik gave her a smile, thinking it over for a second. Then he leaned down, giving her a kiss on the lips. She tried to pull him closer, but he slipped free, using a bit of his magic to evade her grasp.
"Maybe later," he said with a wink, making his way to the door.
Kotohime crossed her arms and pouted, "You've already said that to me before."
Malik turned, grinning as he replied, "I know. But I'm a man of my word." And with that, he gave her one last smile before leaving the room, Kotohime watching him go with a mix of amusement and frustration.