"Relax, let's shake hands; I'm not that scary," Gojo said, his casual grin widening as he locked eyes with Kisame. His smirk practically radiated overconfidence, as if he were an untouchable force of nature. Turning toward Kurenai, who was standing at a safe distance, he cupped his hand around his mouth in an exaggerated mock-whisper. "Honestly, even Kurenai-san would be thrilled to shake hands with me in her dreams."
Team 7 exchanged baffled glances, their eyes flickering between Gojo and Kurenai as they tried to decipher whether they'd just witnessed a bizarre inside joke or an act of pure lunacy.
Kurenai's face flushed crimson, caught between embarrassment and outrage. "Absolutely not!" she snapped, her voice tinged with exasperation.
Kisame, on the other hand, scrutinized Gojo with measured caution. The man's relaxed demeanor was oddly disarming. What was the angle here? He glanced at Samehada, then back at Gojo. How dangerous could a handshake really be? Shrugging off his doubts, Kisame stepped forward. "Alright then," he muttered, his tone even, though his eyes stayed sharp.
As Kisame extended his hand, an invisible force stopped him dead in his tracks, halting his arm mid-air. It was as if an impenetrable glass wall had materialized between them, refusing to let him close the gap. He pushed harder, veins bulging in his arm, but it was no use.
Gojo's grin deepened, thoroughly relishing the sight of Kisame's frustration. "See? The space between us is infinite. No matter how hard you try, you'll never cross it." Then, just to drive the point home, Gojo nonchalantly reached out, clasped Kisame's hand, and even laced their fingers together.
Naruto's jaw practically hit the floor. "Uh… Gojo-sensei's flirting technique is so off. Why is he holding hands with a guy?" he muttered under his breath, clearly horrified.
Sasuke crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "It's not flirting, he's mocking him."
Kisame's initial shock quickly turned into discomfort as he tried to yank his hand back. But Gojo's grip was like a steel trap. "Let go, you lunatic!" Kisame growled.
"Ah, don't be shy now," Gojo teased, his voice dripping with playful malice. Before Kisame could respond, Gojo released their intertwined hands only to slam a devastating punch into Kisame's gut. The blow landed with a thunderous boom, reverberating through the air.
Kisame staggered, his eyes wide as the force sent blood spurting from his mouth. The crimson droplets hung suspended in the air for a moment before splattering onto the ground. He clutched his stomach, reeling in pain. "This guy… What kind of freak is he?"
Realizing he couldn't afford to toy around, Kisame growled and reached for Samehada. "Let's see how your tricks handle this—Samehada Strike!" The massive blade's bandages unraveled, revealing its jagged, chakra-hungry scales. It surged forward with a menacing lunge… only to stop cold, suspended in mid-air, as if frozen by the same invisible barrier.
Gojo tilted his head, his expression one of amused indifference. "Still don't get it?" His tone was almost pitying. "Here's the short version: you can't touch me, but I can hit you as much as I want. Unfair, right?" Without waiting for a reply, he unleashed a flurry of rapid punches, each blow landing with precision.
Kisame was sent flying like a ragdoll, crashing into the ground with a bone-rattling impact. Bruised and bleeding, he gasped for air, staring at Gojo with a mix of disbelief and grudging respect. "This guy… He's on a whole different level," he muttered, struggling to push himself back up.
Standing off to the side, Itachi watched the scene with narrowed eyes, his expression unreadable. Despite his calm demeanor, his mind was already racing. If I don't intervene now, Kisame's going to lose more than his pride—and the mission could fall apart.
Kisame locked eyes with his partner, silently pleading for assistance. Itachi sighed, taking a measured step forward. His voice, smooth and steady, cut through the tension like a blade. "Gojo Satoru… Your abilities are extraordinary, but surely even you have limits."
Gojo turned toward him, intrigued. "Ah, Itachi-kun. I was wondering when you'd step in." His grin returned, as if this was all part of some elaborate game.
Itachi's Sharingan swirled ominously, the Mangekyo pattern emerging with deadly elegance. "Your kekkei genkai may make you untouchable physically," he said, his voice deceptively calm. "But illusions are a different matter."
"Careful, Gojo-san!" Kurenai shouted, stepping forward with a kunai in hand. Her stance was tense; she knew she wasn't a match for Itachi's genjutsu but couldn't stand idle.
Gojo chuckled, the playful lilt in his tone undiminished. "An illusion, huh? That's a fair play, Itachi-kun. But let's see…" He adjusted his sunglasses, his six eyes glimmering faintly beneath. "...if you can really catch me."