Chapter 360: Snow, Steam, and Shattered Hesitations
Evening blanketed the Hidden Leaf in a curtain of soft, swirling snow, and while spring was on the way, winter still had a tight hold over the land. The pale flakes drifted lazily from the darkening sky, whispering against rooftops and cloaking the world in a hushed winter stillness. Atop Malik's sprawling mansion, a terrace garden opened into a luxurious hot-spring bath — lotus-shaped, carved into warm rose stone, filled with shimmering water that shimmered in soft gold from Malik's residual magic.
When the terrace door slid open, the wind pushed a small gust of cold air in.
Shisui stepped through.
She looked tired.
Not physically. Physically she was radiant as always — tall, sharply beautiful, her black hair glossy and pinned up, her posture loose in that way only elite shinobi carried themselves. But emotionally? Her shoulders held tension she hadn't worked off during her mission. There was a heaviness around her eyes.
Malik met her with a smile as warm as the bath's steam.
"Welcome home, sweetheart."
She exhaled — a tiny breath, but enough to soften the edge around her eyes.
"Long day," she murmured.
"Then come relax with me," Malik said. "I've prepared something special."
He snapped his fingers.
A swirl of gold-and-pink smoke enveloped them both — warm, fragrant, gentle.
When it faded, Malik stood in delicate gold-trimmed swim trunks, and Shisui now wore a sleek black bathing suit that hugged her form without being revealing, elegant and functional, exactly the style she preferred.
Shisui raised an eyebrow. "You and your theatrics."
He grinned. "You married me knowing full well I'm dramatic."
"Unfortunately," she said, but there was affection in her voice.
Snow drifted around them, but Malik's quiet magic wrapped the terrace in a soft bubble of heat. The flakes melted before touching their skin, falling like petals into the steaming bath.
Malik extended his hand to her.
She took it.
They stepped into the water together.
The warmth embraced them instantly, melting the cold from their bones. Shisui lowered herself until only her shoulders remained above the surface, a sigh leaving her lips — small, reluctant, but genuine.
Malik settled beside her, shoulders touching.
He watched her for a moment, admiration softening his features. Snowflakes reflected in his gold-pink eyes like tiny stars.
Then, softly:
"Can I see your Sharingan tonight?"
Shisui stiffened.
Her answer was immediate.
"No."
Malik blinked but didn't push. She turned her head slightly, refusing to meet his gaze.
"My Sharingan isn't a… spectacle," she said, voice low. "It isn't something pretty to show off. It's a tool. Ugly when used. Deadly when necessary. A reminder of things I had to do—things you don't need to see."
Malik opened his mouth, but she lifted her hand.
"I don't use it for fun," she said, softer now. "Not in the bath. Not with you. It's not meant for nights like this."
He nodded slowly, accepting without argument — because he always did.
"Okay," he said gently. "Black eyes it is, then. Lucky me — they're beautiful."
Shisui's lips twitched. "Flatterer."
"And your hair," Malik continued, leaning closer to trace a strand with gentle fingers. "Long, silky, perfect. Like you stepped out of a royal painting."
"Malik…" she muttered, face warming.
"And," he added, nudging her shoulder lightly, "you're thinking about something. Something big. Something you're worried I won't like."
She froze.
Malik smiled knowingly.
"Talk to me, sweetheart."
She rolled her eyes, wondering where the nickname sweetheart came from, but then again, with this man, anything was possible. Then Shisui's jaw clenched. She looked to the side, steam curling off her skin. The snow beyond the bath grew heavier, flakes dancing in the blue darkness.
Finally — after a long silence:
"It's about Anko's team."
Malik's expression shifted instantly. Serious, attentive, the warm glow in his eyes steady.
Shisui continued.
"They're improving. Yes. Karin's instincts, Isaribi's physicality, Sai's technique — they're strong. But not strong enough."
Malik nodded slowly. "I expected that early on. Teamwork takes time."
"I'm not talking about teamwork," Shisui said sharply. "I'm talking about survivability."
She shifted in the water, turning fully toward him. Her black eyes sharpened with the weight of a captain, a soldier, a woman who had seen too much.
"You're teaching them with kindness. So is Anko. You're giving them space to grow. Training that is safe. Controlled. Predictable."
Malik frowned slightly. "Is that… wrong?"
Shisui inhaled, leaned back, and shook her head.
"It's not wrong. It's you. You save people. You heal. You give warmth to people who have only known cold."
Her voice softened — painfully.
"It worked on me. It's still working on me."
Malik squeezed her hand.
"But," she continued firmly, "the world isn't going to treat Anko's team with kindness. Not the missions they'll get. Not the threats they'll face."
Malik exhaled slowly. "I know. That's why I—"
"No," she cut in, not unkindly but with precision. "Listen."
He quieted.
Shisui looked him straight in the eyes.
"You love too openly. You protect too broadly. It's your greatest power, but also your biggest weakness. You don't like hurting people. You don't want them scared. You refuse to put someone you care about through pain if you can avoid it."
Malik swallowed.
Shisui pressed on.
"But that's exactly what they need."
The water rippled between them.
Shisui's eyes softened a sliver.
"You weren't there when I was trained," she said quietly. "You didn't see what Danzō — your second wife — put Sai through. You didn't see the missions the old Root faced. The decisions they were forced to make."
Malik's expression darkened, but Shisui held up a hand.
"I'm not defending her," she said bluntly. "I still hate her. I always will."
Then, grudgingly:
"But she's right about one thing:
Pain reveals truth. Pressure reveals strength. Fear reveals bonds."
Malik didn't speak.
Shisui pushed forward.
"They need a real test. A crisis. Something that fractures them individually so they're forced to rely on each other. Something that scares them. Panics them. Makes them realize they can't survive alone."
Malik's chest tightened.
"And," she added quietly, "I'm not the only one who believes that."
Malik raised an eyebrow. "Danzō."
Shisui made a face like she'd bitten a lemon. "Yes. Her. And trust me, I hate saying that more than you'll ever understand."
Malik looked out across the terrace — at the snow drifting into the glowing bath water — then back to her.
"So you're agreeing with her?"
"I'm agreeing," Shisui said, "with the idea. Not the woman."
He nodded slowly.
Shisui's voice dropped.
"Malik… darling… my love…"
She lifted her hand to his cheek, cupping it gently.
Malik gave her a smile. All forms of love made his heart warm, but getting both words of affection and a gentle touch put his face in a big smile.
"You won't like what I'm asking. I know you won't. But I'm asking anyway."
He leaned into her touch, calm, patient.
Her next words were a whisper of steel:
"Let us — Danzō and I — design a test for Anko's team."
Malik's eyes widened.
Shisui continued.
"A test that scares them."
"A test that hurts."
"A test that forces them to choose each other."
"A test that will make them crumble first…"
"…and then forge them together."
Malik stared at her.
Silent.
Shisui waited, gaze unwavering.
Finally — he spoke:
"…How bad?"
Shisui answered without hesitation.
"Bad enough that they'll hate us for it."
Malik exhaled sharply.
"And good enough," she added softly, leaning her forehead to his, "that they'll survive the real world."
The snow outside thickened, like the sky holding its breath.
Malik swallowed hard.
And whispered:
"…Tell me everything."