Nagato looks like he’s about to start stabbing people, which Kisame thinks likely isn’t the best way to walk into a peace conference with Konoha.
“Obito,” he says tightly, as the volume of Konan and Yahiko’s bickering increases. “I am very fond of you, but if you don’t stop complaining I won't be held accountable for my actions.”
Obito rolls his eye, but he does stop fidgeting with his shakujo, sinking back flat on his feet rather than poised on the balls of his toes, and Kisame allows a fraction of the tension in his shoulders to ease. Having their resident powerhouse to slightly wound isn’t good for the nerves.
“Fond,” Obito says instead, pulling a face. “Gee, thanks.”
Nagato looks exasperated, and turns to his partner with a huff, but Kisame has been walking between Konan and Yahiko and Sasori and Deidara since they left Ame; he’s had more than enough of couple quarrels for the next lifetime and change, so he squeezes past their honorable(-ish) leaders and makes tracks for the clear field they agreed on for negotiations, figuring he may as well scout the area. Nagato will likely do one better as soon as he gets his head out of his ass, being a sensor and all, but for now Kisame steps out of the trees and takes a quick glance around the field. It looks like it would make a good battlefield in another life, open and free of most obstructions, but as it is there's only a single other figure visible.
Deciding he may as well be friendly, Kisame puts on his best smile, trying not to show too many extra teeth, then slings Samehada over his shoulder and wanders towards the kunoichi inspecting a lone outcropping of boulders. She’s small, lean, with short pink hair held back by a Konoha hitai-ate. Almost despite himself, Kisame feels a flicker of resignation, expecting another weak, stuttering, flailing girl. Objectively, he’s well aware that most kunoichi can't be held to the standards of the Hoshigaki Clan, but Kisame grew up with women who were a good two heads taller than him and twice as broad, all muscle, and able to break a table in half without a thought. Anything less invokes an instinctive distaste, and—
The small, pretty kunoichi makes a sound of deep frustration, rears back, and punches the boulders hard.
It’s probably upwards of six tons of rock, and with one direct blow the entire formation shatters into dust.
Kisame's jaw drops, and he practically trips over his own feet. Oh, he thinks, and then Oh! And maybe she’s not quite as tall or broad as his mother and sister but as she spins to face him he realizes she’s nowhere near delicate. Those are thick muscles, just as honed as his own, and the way she balances herself says she knows exactly how to use them.
“A kunoichi!” Kisame says, utterly delighted.
The young woman eyes him like he just said something dumb. “Haruno Sakura,” she says, like it’s a warning.
It might be, but Kisame's been so focused on Ame and helping rebuild Akatsuki after Madara's attempt to corrupt it that he hasn’t had time to leaf through the Bingo Book lately. Now he wishes he had, because wow.
“You!” he repeats. “You're a real kunoichi!”
Sakura blinks, taking half a step back as she falls out of her fighting stance, and she looks startled and just a little flattered. “Um?”
“Could you bench press me?” Kisame presses, already advancing in anticipation.
Baffled, Sakura blinks at him for a moment, then snorts, tugs up her fingerless gloves, and cracks her knuckles. “Why not,” she asks in bemusement, and Kisame wastes no time leaping for her.
(“Oh gods, really?” Nagato demands, pressing his hands over his face in clear despair as the remaining members of Akatsuki file into the meadow.
Obito just snorts. “At least he’s having fun,” he says dryly, and a surreptitious glance across the field shows that Kakashi is watching his student toss around a deadly, homicidal missing-nin with no small amount of horror.
Obito would absolutely be lying if he said that didn’t factor in to the way he catches Nagato's arm and keeps him from marching over to corral their wayward swordsman. When Nagato shoots him a look of deep betrayal, Obito offers him a smirk, tipping one shoulder in a shrug. “I thought you were the one who was so invested in peace by any means, Nagato.”
Nagato groans, and the hands go back over his face. “She’s using him as a weight, Obito! And he’s letting her!”
“True love comes in many forms,” Obito says, mock-wisely, and doesn’t even try to dodge the smack that Nagato aims at his head.)