Maybe I'm dumb, but why is talking with allied ninja about prospective group actions with those allies a bad thing? Why is making connections with strong allies bad? Why did he need to deny the accusations rather than leaning into them as something to be proud of?
Naruto: The Outsider's Resolve
Because he is a Genin, is in an army and needs to follow hierarchy. Also he was not punished for it, they don´t have the proof that he did it, just circumstantial evidence. In the end report they will still credit him the achievement that he did in the mission. Also Jonin Toridasu is not fond of Anko, he dislikes her for personal reasons.
(Important to say that some great village Ninja do discriminate against smaller village ninjas and think they are inferior)
- Location
- sweden
Fucking ancient Chinese court level politics
Be good but not so good that people get suspicious but also don't be bad because then you will be blames but be kind of bad so they don't give you more responsibility because then they will blame you when you can't preform the extra burden. And don't do your best because then your boss might think you are trying to undermine them but don't do a bad job because then your boss will think you are trying to sabotage him. And make sure to not take too much credit because then you will be viewed as ambitious and won't be given changes to advance but don't take too little credit because then others wil take the credit and you won't be given changes to advance.
Be good but not so good that people get suspicious but also don't be bad because then you will be blames but be kind of bad so they don't give you more responsibility because then they will blame you when you can't preform the extra burden. And don't do your best because then your boss might think you are trying to undermine them but don't do a bad job because then your boss will think you are trying to sabotage him. And make sure to not take too much credit because then you will be viewed as ambitious and won't be given changes to advance but don't take too little credit because then others wil take the credit and you won't be given changes to advance.
CH_6.39 (210)
Fiction
Feel free to ask me questions.
The mess hall was warmer than usual and everyone was eating slightly better-tasting food with smiles on their faces. The restriction on alcohol had been lifted Camp Banana welcomed the new arrivals who would replace their fallen numbers. People mingled with each other, exchanging names, stories, and information about their lives at and before Camp Banana.
There was a rowdiness present that was usually missing in the base. The monotonous clink of cutlery and hanging boredom were swept away as people opened up to each other. The night was young, and Camp Banana had enough stories and booze to keep it going early in the morning.
At a table in the mess hall, half of Team-9 sat with full plates of food. Daiki had his back to the table as he chatted with his friend Hajime from the neighboring table, Rikku was absorbed in her food, and Kameko gazed at the socializing crowds.
"Hey! Are you guys having fun?" Anko half-danced toward the table with Iori joined to her hip. Both had alcohol in their water canteens and looked as though they were having a merry time with their blushing cheeks and wide grins.
"Pace yourself," Kameko warned them.
"Buzzkill," Iori laughed and took a swig from her canteen.
Her hand was no longer fixed with a split; it had healed enough to be moved down to light bandaging for minimum support. She had already started physical therapy to regain function. There was still not knowing if Iori's fingers would make a complete recovery, but she was no longer pessimistic and was taking it one day at a time.
"Where's the workaholic?" asked Anko, looking around for the missing team member.
"Speaking of the devil." Kameko pointed with her chin.
Takuma walked toward the mess hall in a fresh set of clothes with his hair wet. He looked like he had just taken a bath.
Anko frowned lightly. She asked, "Was he training?"
"That's all he does these days," Daiki looked away from his friend to answer Anko. "I thought you put him to it. I don't want to question your methods, Anko, but I do believe that rest is just as important. I suggest that you decrease his load."
"I did ask him to do things, but…" Anko gazed at Takuma, who broke into a jog to reach them as he entered the mess hall. She sparred with him once a day, but had stopped accompanying him for morning training—he had gotten a hang of it enough to do it alone.
"This is…so different. I was stopped and checked at the gate like a criminal when I first came here. There was no grand welcome for me," Takuma said when he arrived.
"You arrived alone. At least you got a guide to show you around," Kameko replied. "When we came here, we had to do a major clean up and set up the base. It felt like I was intruding on someone else's place for weeks.—there were family photos on the walls and everything."
"And I will never forget your lovely attempt to boot me from the team, Kameko. That was a wonderful welcome," Takuma smiled when she scowled and walked past the table. "I'm hungry. The grub smells different today."
"He's not in a pleasant mood these days," Daiki muttered as she gazed at Takuma, loading up his plate in the distance.
"Really? I think he's always like that," Kameko scoffed.
"Well, you two don't get along spectacularly, Miss Kameko. I've lived with him long enough to see that he's not like this normally." Daiki looked at Anko. "He has been like that since the meeting with Toridasu and Shirakumo. Did something happen?"
"…Who knows," Anko replied.
Maybe it was time for her to have a chat with him.
———
.
Takuma had come to appreciate the feeling of fatigue after a good day of sweating and hard training. It was a marker that he was going to have a nice and deep sleep at night—the best kind of sleep.
"You guys pulled out all the stops for today, eh, Kai?" Takuma chatted with one of the kitchen staff.
Kai laughed as he refilled the fried chicken tray. "The food tastes the same every day, Takuma. You're the only one complaining about it."
Takuma smiled. "Because the rest of them lost all hope that food could be good. See, I'm the newest, been here the shortest. I wasn't defeated by you guys. But now, I'm not the newest, I have all these new folk, and I will lead them to All Blue. We will succeed. The food will become tastier than ever before!"
"All Blue?"
"That's the dream, my friend."
"I don't get you sometimes," Kai said, shaking his head and walking away with the empty container.
"I get that a lot," Takuma chuckled and moved forward the buffet line. There was a group chatting near the tables, blocking his path. "Hey. Move, please," he said.
The man blocking his path cleared the way for Takuma, who stopped in front of a heated tray of soup. As he ladled some into a bowl, he caught the group's conversation.
"So, they called me Bishop, right? That was my fighter name," said a man who seemed to be the center of the conversation as everyone was facing him.
The man who had given Takuma space interrupted the conversation. "Sorry, I didn't catch that. Bishop, fighter name, what?"
The man who was telling the story repeated. "As I was saying. None of you are from the Hidden Leaf village, so you might not know it, but there's this underground fighting scene."
Takuma subconsciously straightened up. He stopped stirring the soup with the ladle and eavesdropped on the group's conversation.
"It's called the Ring. Shinobi—genin— fight each other in a closed dome for money and mission points. People pay to watch and bet on the fights. There's a huge gambling scene on it."
Someone in the group asked, "And you were a fighter?"
"Yeah. I went by the name, Bishop. One of the best before I had to retire."
Bishop.
Memories of being thrashed on the bloody arena floor until he was beaten into unconsciousness froze him on the spot. Takuma closed his eyes and he could hear the crowd's roaring as their favored fighter thrashing him, with the best he could do being defense.
Takuma slowly turned to face the group and saw the man telling the story. Takuma didn't recognize him, which meant he was one of the new people who had arrived this morning. The man proclaiming to be Bishop was short, just like Takuma recalled. He had imagined what Bishop would look like behind his mask, picturing him as the ugliest man alive—but the man looked average from all accounts with thin, slanted eyes, a nose on the smaller size, and a broad smile.
He wasn't Scars, the premier fighter, when he fought Bishop. He was still in the taijutsu category, barely settling into his first contract and had finally started to win a few fights before they matched him against Bishop, who had retired after having an impressive record in the ninjutsu category.
Why?
Because Bishop, who shouldn't have been allowed in the Ring, wanted to blow off some steam and with an easy opponent to push around.
The fat fuck called the Ring's boss had chosen Takuma as the sacrificial lamb to appease Bishop.
In all honesty, Takuma never thought he would meet Bishop. He didn't think the man would talk about the Ring so openly—to be fair, they were far away from Hidden Leaf—and Takuma didn't have the time to go seek out Bishop's identity so he could have his revenge. But now, the man stood before him as though served on a silver platter, and the desire to exact it was so very tempting.
He was no longer that scrawny unknown fighter called Scars who was cut or stabbed every fight. He was sure that if they fought now, things would be very different. Maybe everyone would enjoy a good fight as an entertainment piece at the welcome event. He could just let go one time and act on that impulse. What would be the harm? Wasn't there a time-honored culture of hazing in places like these?
It would be something everyone would look back at as something fun. Not for everyone involved but it would be fun… at least for him.
But as those thoughts churned, he caught Toridasu in his vision. The jonin was laughing with a larger group. He recognized the expressions on the faces of the rest of the group; they were brown-nosing him to get on his good side. Takuma didn't blame them; it was a natural thing to do if one had any ambition in life.
In fact, Takuma felt that he should be there with them, trying to do the same. It was clear that Toridasu wasn't pleased with how he had tipped the first domino on the long chain that was Gojiro Gold Mine operation.
His eyes then drifted to the table where his team sat, and he was half-startled to find Anko staring at him. Takuma calmed down and sighed as he thought of her. Things were already difficult for her and he had made things worse—and she hadn't said a single word to him about it. Anko was a very lax leader, and while Takuma wouldn't run a team like that,he had no doubt she was a good leader who'd make sure to have his back.
Which was why Takuma turned back and resumed filling his plate with food. He didn't want to get Anko and the team into more trouble. It was okay if he didn't get to beat the crap out of Bishop with all of their peers and superiors watching.
Now that Takuma knew who Bishop was, if he ever felt frustrated, he could get the man in trouble with the Police Force.
That would be a different kind of fun, but fun nevertheless.
———
.
Takuma wrestled with his conflicting emotions as he processed the sight in front of him.
"Hello, my name's Masumoto Shohei. I'm the new chunin leader of Team-3." Bishop, or Masumoto, introduced himself along with his team. "We are looking forward to this joint exercise between the teams to be a great learning experience."
The new shinobi had only arrived the day before yesterday, and Masumoto Bishop had set up a joint sparring exercise with Anko's Team-9. It was surprising and almost alien, as no other team had ever asked for a joint exercise with Team-9 because of Anko. Other teams held joint exercises regularly, but Team-9 had not been part of any of them even once.
It made sense that a new chunin was the one to request it, given Anko's past.
"The same goes for us," Anko smiled.
Masumoto gazed at the team before asking Anko. "You're missing one of your team. Is everything okay?"
"He should be here." Anko glanced at Takuma. "Where is Daiki?"
Takuma said, "He should be on his way. Said he needed to go to the bathroom… Oh look, there he is." Takuma pointed to Daiki running towards them.
"I apologize for being late. I hope I didn't keep everyone waiting," Daiki bowed to both Anko and Masumoto.
"Not at all," Masumoto smiled.
"Don't sweat it. Get in line," Anko said to Daiki.
Daiki hurriedly stood beside Takuma and immediately whispered into his ear. "You were right. He's doing it to make an impression on Toridasu."
'Knew it,' thought Takuma, turning his unamused eyes to Masumoto.
Takuma was skeptical of the joint exercise offer. They hadn't kept it a secret, and the entire base would technically know they were conducting a joint exercise. He was sure that after Masumoto got the gist of Anko's past, he would rescind the offer and make some excuse, but he didn't do that—so he asked Daiki to poke around to see if something was wrong.
And Takuma was right in his doubt.
Masumoto wasn't doing the joint exercise for a 'learning experience'—he was doing it so he could prove that he and his team were better than Anko and Team-9. Masumoto must've heard that Toridasu wasn't the biggest fan of Anko and was trying to please him by trouncing Team-9 in the joint exercise as a 'token offering' to the overlord.
"Alright, let's do it then," Takuma said.
"What?" asked Daiki.
As both teams prepared, Takuma went to Anko and whispered what Daiki had gathered to her.
"Are you sure?" Anko asked.
Takuma nodded.
"Okay… and what do you want to do?" she asked.
"I think we might be able to make another move for that precursor mission," Takuma said.
If Bishop was trying to trounce them, then he was opening himself to having the situation turned against him.
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón [fictiononlyreader]. Link here and in signature.
Note: All the chapters will eventually be posted on public forums.
There was a rowdiness present that was usually missing in the base. The monotonous clink of cutlery and hanging boredom were swept away as people opened up to each other. The night was young, and Camp Banana had enough stories and booze to keep it going early in the morning.
At a table in the mess hall, half of Team-9 sat with full plates of food. Daiki had his back to the table as he chatted with his friend Hajime from the neighboring table, Rikku was absorbed in her food, and Kameko gazed at the socializing crowds.
"Hey! Are you guys having fun?" Anko half-danced toward the table with Iori joined to her hip. Both had alcohol in their water canteens and looked as though they were having a merry time with their blushing cheeks and wide grins.
"Pace yourself," Kameko warned them.
"Buzzkill," Iori laughed and took a swig from her canteen.
Her hand was no longer fixed with a split; it had healed enough to be moved down to light bandaging for minimum support. She had already started physical therapy to regain function. There was still not knowing if Iori's fingers would make a complete recovery, but she was no longer pessimistic and was taking it one day at a time.
"Where's the workaholic?" asked Anko, looking around for the missing team member.
"Speaking of the devil." Kameko pointed with her chin.
Takuma walked toward the mess hall in a fresh set of clothes with his hair wet. He looked like he had just taken a bath.
Anko frowned lightly. She asked, "Was he training?"
"That's all he does these days," Daiki looked away from his friend to answer Anko. "I thought you put him to it. I don't want to question your methods, Anko, but I do believe that rest is just as important. I suggest that you decrease his load."
"I did ask him to do things, but…" Anko gazed at Takuma, who broke into a jog to reach them as he entered the mess hall. She sparred with him once a day, but had stopped accompanying him for morning training—he had gotten a hang of it enough to do it alone.
"This is…so different. I was stopped and checked at the gate like a criminal when I first came here. There was no grand welcome for me," Takuma said when he arrived.
"You arrived alone. At least you got a guide to show you around," Kameko replied. "When we came here, we had to do a major clean up and set up the base. It felt like I was intruding on someone else's place for weeks.—there were family photos on the walls and everything."
"And I will never forget your lovely attempt to boot me from the team, Kameko. That was a wonderful welcome," Takuma smiled when she scowled and walked past the table. "I'm hungry. The grub smells different today."
"He's not in a pleasant mood these days," Daiki muttered as she gazed at Takuma, loading up his plate in the distance.
"Really? I think he's always like that," Kameko scoffed.
"Well, you two don't get along spectacularly, Miss Kameko. I've lived with him long enough to see that he's not like this normally." Daiki looked at Anko. "He has been like that since the meeting with Toridasu and Shirakumo. Did something happen?"
"…Who knows," Anko replied.
Maybe it was time for her to have a chat with him.
———
.
Takuma had come to appreciate the feeling of fatigue after a good day of sweating and hard training. It was a marker that he was going to have a nice and deep sleep at night—the best kind of sleep.
"You guys pulled out all the stops for today, eh, Kai?" Takuma chatted with one of the kitchen staff.
Kai laughed as he refilled the fried chicken tray. "The food tastes the same every day, Takuma. You're the only one complaining about it."
Takuma smiled. "Because the rest of them lost all hope that food could be good. See, I'm the newest, been here the shortest. I wasn't defeated by you guys. But now, I'm not the newest, I have all these new folk, and I will lead them to All Blue. We will succeed. The food will become tastier than ever before!"
"All Blue?"
"That's the dream, my friend."
"I don't get you sometimes," Kai said, shaking his head and walking away with the empty container.
"I get that a lot," Takuma chuckled and moved forward the buffet line. There was a group chatting near the tables, blocking his path. "Hey. Move, please," he said.
The man blocking his path cleared the way for Takuma, who stopped in front of a heated tray of soup. As he ladled some into a bowl, he caught the group's conversation.
"So, they called me Bishop, right? That was my fighter name," said a man who seemed to be the center of the conversation as everyone was facing him.
The man who had given Takuma space interrupted the conversation. "Sorry, I didn't catch that. Bishop, fighter name, what?"
The man who was telling the story repeated. "As I was saying. None of you are from the Hidden Leaf village, so you might not know it, but there's this underground fighting scene."
Takuma subconsciously straightened up. He stopped stirring the soup with the ladle and eavesdropped on the group's conversation.
"It's called the Ring. Shinobi—genin— fight each other in a closed dome for money and mission points. People pay to watch and bet on the fights. There's a huge gambling scene on it."
Someone in the group asked, "And you were a fighter?"
"Yeah. I went by the name, Bishop. One of the best before I had to retire."
Bishop.
Memories of being thrashed on the bloody arena floor until he was beaten into unconsciousness froze him on the spot. Takuma closed his eyes and he could hear the crowd's roaring as their favored fighter thrashing him, with the best he could do being defense.
Takuma slowly turned to face the group and saw the man telling the story. Takuma didn't recognize him, which meant he was one of the new people who had arrived this morning. The man proclaiming to be Bishop was short, just like Takuma recalled. He had imagined what Bishop would look like behind his mask, picturing him as the ugliest man alive—but the man looked average from all accounts with thin, slanted eyes, a nose on the smaller size, and a broad smile.
He wasn't Scars, the premier fighter, when he fought Bishop. He was still in the taijutsu category, barely settling into his first contract and had finally started to win a few fights before they matched him against Bishop, who had retired after having an impressive record in the ninjutsu category.
Why?
Because Bishop, who shouldn't have been allowed in the Ring, wanted to blow off some steam and with an easy opponent to push around.
The fat fuck called the Ring's boss had chosen Takuma as the sacrificial lamb to appease Bishop.
In all honesty, Takuma never thought he would meet Bishop. He didn't think the man would talk about the Ring so openly—to be fair, they were far away from Hidden Leaf—and Takuma didn't have the time to go seek out Bishop's identity so he could have his revenge. But now, the man stood before him as though served on a silver platter, and the desire to exact it was so very tempting.
He was no longer that scrawny unknown fighter called Scars who was cut or stabbed every fight. He was sure that if they fought now, things would be very different. Maybe everyone would enjoy a good fight as an entertainment piece at the welcome event. He could just let go one time and act on that impulse. What would be the harm? Wasn't there a time-honored culture of hazing in places like these?
It would be something everyone would look back at as something fun. Not for everyone involved but it would be fun… at least for him.
But as those thoughts churned, he caught Toridasu in his vision. The jonin was laughing with a larger group. He recognized the expressions on the faces of the rest of the group; they were brown-nosing him to get on his good side. Takuma didn't blame them; it was a natural thing to do if one had any ambition in life.
In fact, Takuma felt that he should be there with them, trying to do the same. It was clear that Toridasu wasn't pleased with how he had tipped the first domino on the long chain that was Gojiro Gold Mine operation.
His eyes then drifted to the table where his team sat, and he was half-startled to find Anko staring at him. Takuma calmed down and sighed as he thought of her. Things were already difficult for her and he had made things worse—and she hadn't said a single word to him about it. Anko was a very lax leader, and while Takuma wouldn't run a team like that,he had no doubt she was a good leader who'd make sure to have his back.
Which was why Takuma turned back and resumed filling his plate with food. He didn't want to get Anko and the team into more trouble. It was okay if he didn't get to beat the crap out of Bishop with all of their peers and superiors watching.
Now that Takuma knew who Bishop was, if he ever felt frustrated, he could get the man in trouble with the Police Force.
That would be a different kind of fun, but fun nevertheless.
———
.
Takuma wrestled with his conflicting emotions as he processed the sight in front of him.
"Hello, my name's Masumoto Shohei. I'm the new chunin leader of Team-3." Bishop, or Masumoto, introduced himself along with his team. "We are looking forward to this joint exercise between the teams to be a great learning experience."
The new shinobi had only arrived the day before yesterday, and Masumoto Bishop had set up a joint sparring exercise with Anko's Team-9. It was surprising and almost alien, as no other team had ever asked for a joint exercise with Team-9 because of Anko. Other teams held joint exercises regularly, but Team-9 had not been part of any of them even once.
It made sense that a new chunin was the one to request it, given Anko's past.
"The same goes for us," Anko smiled.
Masumoto gazed at the team before asking Anko. "You're missing one of your team. Is everything okay?"
"He should be here." Anko glanced at Takuma. "Where is Daiki?"
Takuma said, "He should be on his way. Said he needed to go to the bathroom… Oh look, there he is." Takuma pointed to Daiki running towards them.
"I apologize for being late. I hope I didn't keep everyone waiting," Daiki bowed to both Anko and Masumoto.
"Not at all," Masumoto smiled.
"Don't sweat it. Get in line," Anko said to Daiki.
Daiki hurriedly stood beside Takuma and immediately whispered into his ear. "You were right. He's doing it to make an impression on Toridasu."
'Knew it,' thought Takuma, turning his unamused eyes to Masumoto.
Takuma was skeptical of the joint exercise offer. They hadn't kept it a secret, and the entire base would technically know they were conducting a joint exercise. He was sure that after Masumoto got the gist of Anko's past, he would rescind the offer and make some excuse, but he didn't do that—so he asked Daiki to poke around to see if something was wrong.
And Takuma was right in his doubt.
Masumoto wasn't doing the joint exercise for a 'learning experience'—he was doing it so he could prove that he and his team were better than Anko and Team-9. Masumoto must've heard that Toridasu wasn't the biggest fan of Anko and was trying to please him by trouncing Team-9 in the joint exercise as a 'token offering' to the overlord.
"Alright, let's do it then," Takuma said.
"What?" asked Daiki.
As both teams prepared, Takuma went to Anko and whispered what Daiki had gathered to her.
"Are you sure?" Anko asked.
Takuma nodded.
"Okay… and what do you want to do?" she asked.
"I think we might be able to make another move for that precursor mission," Takuma said.
If Bishop was trying to trounce them, then he was opening himself to having the situation turned against him.
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón [fictiononlyreader]. Link here and in signature.
Note: All the chapters will eventually be posted on public forums.
CH_6.40 (211)
Fiction
Feel free to ask me questions.
While Anko believed that her genin wouldn't give her incorrect information, she already held some healthy skepticism that the joint exercise wasn't just for the purpose of training and that Masumoto Shohei was trying to make a name for himself by using her as a stepping-stone. Thinking about a situation from both sides of the spectrum was always helpful for analysis.
It angered her very much so, but logic and reasoning prevailed. Even if it was true, she wasn't that worried about it. She understood that her reputation as the Snake's student would haunt her for life—but people liked to forget that the Snake was one of the Legendary Sannin and she was his student. As ill-fated as their relationship was, he had taught her his techniques. If they thought she was some small fry that could be swept aside, they were sorely mistaken.
She always welcomed the opportunity to present a feast to her babies.
Anko had already thought of a way to handle the situation, but it seemed that Takuma had his own thoughts. She was interested to know what little scheme he'd cooked in his head. He had ruined the chances of Team-9 getting on the precursor mission thanks to the stunt he pulled with the Hidden Steam's Benzou—and she was mighty displeased to know that he had been in contact with Benzou behind her back.
It wasn't that he had talked with Benzou, which pissed her off, but the fact that he hadn't told her about his involvement.
She was of the mind to shut Takuma down and take control of the situation as a punishment, but she decided to let him have a go. Going behind her back was his first offense, and she was willing to give people a second chance.
Her five genin were a good group of shinobi. They had bright futures ahead of them.
Iori had a good head on her shoulder, and Anko was sure she had what it took to become a chunin through her fuinjutsu. The girl had a prosperous future like most skilled fuin-nin.
Communication wasn't Rikku's strong suit, which meant it would take her more effort to rise up as she couldn't market herself properly, but if she kept improving, Anko was willing to bet that she would be one day made chunin and put on a strike team under a jonin's command.
There was nothing to be said about Kameko, she was the little miss of the Taketori clan and had enough political sway behind her that chunin was guaranteed—but that same sway could tie her down to the chunin rank and her further progress would solely depend if she could set herself apart. As she was now, 'Jonin Taketori Kameko' was simply a pipe dream.
Anko knew that Daiki would leave the service and return to being a civilian one day. His mindset wouldn't take him far as a shinobi and he would promptly switch to being an overpaid bodyguard for some rich mook—but that wasn't a bad thing.
Then there was Takuma. Everything about him painted a picture in Anko's mind. The boy was special. Not because he had some gift that made him valuable. It was the little things. It was as though he was carefully molded into being the ideal image of a shinobi. Lord Third Hokage was called the God of Shinobi and was the ideal in the minds of many. They wanted to be like him, mimic him in the hopes that they could achieve a fraction of what he had.
But in Anko's mind, the boy before her was so much closer to the ideal. The Hokage shone too brightly. Jonin, like the Copy Ninja and the Green Beast, had too strong of a presence. She had met the young Uchiha prodigy once, and all her senses whispered danger when he was just seated and silently sipping tea—she could only imagine what would happen if he had his eyes on her. Even Orochimaru, as much as he wanted to hide it, oozed malice that prickled—and his two peers, the Slug Princess and the Toad Sage, had similar problems.
Perhaps that was what happened when shinobi stood at those high stages.
But Takuma showed nothing. He didn't stand out and looked like an overworked grunt who couldn't catch a break half the time. Even with those scars of his—that by all right should make him look menacing—he seemed harmless—until he didn't. That lack of danger from him was what made him dangerous. People weren't cautious until they had a reason to be and Takuma didn't usually give people a reason to be cautious against him—so when he became a threat, it came as a massive surprise..
She had seen him fight Kameko and Rikku; both seemed like they could win until the last moment before they lost, and the conclusion seemed natural. In his fight against Rikku, Anko was so taken aback by her instincts, yelling at her that she needed to stop the fight or Rikku would be dead.
There was no reason for Takuma to kill Rikku, but seeing him atop her with a kunai, Anko genuinely thought he would for a moment.
When she found that Takuma had given Benzou the idea for the read, she was displeased, but she was also alarmed that a few words from a genin had led to something as big as the Gojiro Gold Mine operation with several jonin, dozens of chunin, and hundreds of genin involved—and it had happened just like Takuma wanted it to happen. Takuma had told her that he didn't think it would lead anywhere—but then it did—so was it intentional… or was it all by chance, as Takuma said.
She did not know but she was sure that Takuma would go a long way as a shinobi… if he managed to stay alive long enough.
Anko returned her attention back to Masumoto.
"As we discussed, as this is our first joint exercise, we will start with tag team sparring today," Masumoto said with a smile. "Only one member from each teams is allowed to spar at a time. If they lose they're replaced by one of their teammates and the spar continues. You can't stop sparring unless you lose—meaning no forfeiting. We—Chunin Mitarashi and I—will be recording everyone's performance and the people with the worst from both teams will be punished."
He looked at Anko and she nodded. They had decided that a tag team format spar would be a good exercise for both teams. Even though it was solo sparring, it was a team exercise if the teams strategized.
She turned to her team. "Decide who will go in first. Study your opponents and choose the matchups smartly. This is training; I want all of you to fight, so don't try to sit Iori and Daiki out.... Who's going first?"
Takuma turned to ask Kameko. "May I?" he asked.
Kameko thought for a moment before giving him the nod.
Takuma stepped closer to Anko and whispered in her ear. "We have an audience. He clearly invited people to watch…"
Anko turned her head to see groups of people walking toward them with a merry pep in their step as though they were about to watch an entertaining show. She glanced at Masumoto, who was conversing with his genin as though clueless to the gathering gallery.
"Then you better win," she said; a dangerous smile crept onto her face.
Takuma nodded. He turned away before facing Anko again; he hesitated for a moment before asking. "I will be embarrassing Masumoto Shohei—him directly. That's fine with you, right?"
Anko wondered what he meant, but she gave him the go ahead anyway.
She volunteered to referee the spars and stood between Takuma and Yuka, a new genin to Camp Banana. Takuma raised his hand to form the Seal of Confirmation that Yuka mimicked.
"Start."
Yuka jumped back, putting distance between her and Takuma, who remained in his place. He didn't pull out a kunai, which surprised Anko. She had sparred against him and seen enough of his spars against Rikku to know that he grabbed a kunai at the start of the fight. She was surprised again when Takuma approached Yuka measuredly. He either waited for his opponent to make a move or charged them at the first moment—this was once again different from his usual.
Yuka allowed Takuma to close the distance and then rushed him, abruptly changing from cautious to aggressive. Takuma didn't look surprised and received her effortlessly. She struck out fast and firm, aiming high for his head but Takuma kept pace and blocked all of her attacks .
Seeing that she failed to get him by surprise, Yuka fell back. Takuma, however, didn't allow that and moved forward with quick steps. He struck with a quick side-kick that Yuka blocked. Anko waited for Yuka to be blown back by the augmented blow, but it didn't happen. She looked at Takuma strangely; it was the perfect opportunity and he had more than enough time to prepare it.
'Why is he fighting weird?' she thought.
Yuka opted to take a stand and confront Takuma. She grabbed a kunai and pushed Takuma back, who once again didn't equip a kunai, electing instead to dodge Yuka's sharp blade play.
It had rained in the morning, leaving puddles in the fields. Their footwork sprayed standing water and dew, quickly drenching their pants. The sound of splashing water grew louder and chaotic as the fight picked up but Yuka wasn't able to nick a hair on Takuma's body.
He grabbed her arm, twisted her wrist to disarm her, and then headbutted her nose. She stumbled back, dazed, and he lightly kicked the back of her knee to force her down, running back and smashing a spinning kick into the side of her face.
The gallery cheered and hooted at the solid hit.
Anko glanced back and saw that more were joining the audience. Her eye went to Masumoto; displeasure flashed across his face, but he got his expression under control in a moment.
Yuka hit the ground and scampered back in an attempt to put some distance between them. When she tried to get up, she found the sharp tip of her dropped kunai held a few centimeters from her throat.
Takuma looked to Anko, waiting for her decision.
"Next," she said to Masumoto's team, who'd picked a genin called Akio..
Unlike Anko, Masumoto actively advised his team. He gazed at Takuma and pushed one of his genin forward. As Yuka walked back, Masumoto gave her a disapproving shake of his head and said something that made her face drop.
"Just a reminder, the use of ninjutsu is allowed," Takuma said to his new opponent. He threw Yuka's kunai away and raised his bare fists up. "You can use anything you want."
Akio was taken aback but pulled his hands up.
Anko smiled. She could tell what Akio was thinking. He was wondering if Takuma had reminded him of ninjutsu because he was going to use ninjutsu during the fight. A few words from Takuma had made Akio cautious and on the lookout.
Takuma very slowly stepped close to Akio and started with an intentionally telegraphed jab to Akio's guard. The strike was so light that it confused Akio, who struck out with a cross that Takuma effortlessly slapped aside and countered with a lightning-quick cross straight to the chest, bypassing Akio's half-guard. The cross tapped Akio's chest, once again not doing any real damage.
Akio frowned, anger flaring in his eyes. "Are you making fun—"
He wasn't able to complete his sentence as Takuma lightly kicked his calf with no real force behind it. Akio was so stunned that he forgot his anger for a moment before it flooded back in full force.
"I'm going to fuck you up," Akio spat heatedly and charged Takuma, who skipped back with a butterfly's grace.
Akio raged after him like a bull, with the intention to harm, each strike carrying the full force of his body. Takuma was the mirror opposite, the picture of calm. His defense was dexterous and he was agile on his feet—like he did with Yuka he evaded most of Akio's rush and blocked what he couldn't with a practiced ease.
Takuma continued to tap Akio with weak punches, striking through and around Akio's guard. The onlookers laughed every time Takuma managed to get a tap in, openly making fun of Akio, who only got angrier the more Takuma played with him. It was like Takuma was putting on a show—this was entertainment, not training. Akio was the bull, and Takuma, the matador, was doing his best to anger him more and more.
It was so unlike Takuma that Anko couldn't figure out his aim.
Takuma's core combat philosophy was to do hard damage and end fights as quickly as possible—no matter the execution, He aimed to do enough damage and pain that the opponent wouldn't want to fight. His augmented strikes landed where it would hurt the most, his kunai cut where it would bleed most. While most tried to do just enough damage to make their opponent surrender willingly, Takuma very much preferred to beat his opponent within an the inch of their lives, giving them one choice: surrender.
Akio threw a kunai at Takuma's face from a very short distance. Takuma caught it, and in the same continuous, fluid motion, he flung it back at Akio's legs. The kunai didn't draw blood and only lightly ripped Akio's pants at the inner thigh, very close to his crotch.
Akio flushed as she glanced at the spectators, who laughed like they were at a comedy show. He turned his eyes back at Takuma, who raised his hands and shrugged.
"Ninjutsu, c'mon."
Akio jumped back to put enough distance between them and then weaved hand seals for ninjutsu.
Unbothered, Takuma took out a shuriken and launched it toward Akio. The shuriken flew so fast that Akio was staggered. He abandoned the hand seals and skipped to the side, where another two shuriken landed next to his feet making him to a lurching stop. Three more shuriken passed by him, leaving rips in his clothes, and not breaking skin.
The next moment, Takuma was before Akio with a kunai in his hand. He tapped the shaken Akio's face with the flat of the kunai.
Takuma turned to Anko and said, "Next?"
Anko snorted and rolled her eyes at him.
"Next."
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It angered her very much so, but logic and reasoning prevailed. Even if it was true, she wasn't that worried about it. She understood that her reputation as the Snake's student would haunt her for life—but people liked to forget that the Snake was one of the Legendary Sannin and she was his student. As ill-fated as their relationship was, he had taught her his techniques. If they thought she was some small fry that could be swept aside, they were sorely mistaken.
She always welcomed the opportunity to present a feast to her babies.
Anko had already thought of a way to handle the situation, but it seemed that Takuma had his own thoughts. She was interested to know what little scheme he'd cooked in his head. He had ruined the chances of Team-9 getting on the precursor mission thanks to the stunt he pulled with the Hidden Steam's Benzou—and she was mighty displeased to know that he had been in contact with Benzou behind her back.
It wasn't that he had talked with Benzou, which pissed her off, but the fact that he hadn't told her about his involvement.
She was of the mind to shut Takuma down and take control of the situation as a punishment, but she decided to let him have a go. Going behind her back was his first offense, and she was willing to give people a second chance.
Her five genin were a good group of shinobi. They had bright futures ahead of them.
Iori had a good head on her shoulder, and Anko was sure she had what it took to become a chunin through her fuinjutsu. The girl had a prosperous future like most skilled fuin-nin.
Communication wasn't Rikku's strong suit, which meant it would take her more effort to rise up as she couldn't market herself properly, but if she kept improving, Anko was willing to bet that she would be one day made chunin and put on a strike team under a jonin's command.
There was nothing to be said about Kameko, she was the little miss of the Taketori clan and had enough political sway behind her that chunin was guaranteed—but that same sway could tie her down to the chunin rank and her further progress would solely depend if she could set herself apart. As she was now, 'Jonin Taketori Kameko' was simply a pipe dream.
Anko knew that Daiki would leave the service and return to being a civilian one day. His mindset wouldn't take him far as a shinobi and he would promptly switch to being an overpaid bodyguard for some rich mook—but that wasn't a bad thing.
Then there was Takuma. Everything about him painted a picture in Anko's mind. The boy was special. Not because he had some gift that made him valuable. It was the little things. It was as though he was carefully molded into being the ideal image of a shinobi. Lord Third Hokage was called the God of Shinobi and was the ideal in the minds of many. They wanted to be like him, mimic him in the hopes that they could achieve a fraction of what he had.
But in Anko's mind, the boy before her was so much closer to the ideal. The Hokage shone too brightly. Jonin, like the Copy Ninja and the Green Beast, had too strong of a presence. She had met the young Uchiha prodigy once, and all her senses whispered danger when he was just seated and silently sipping tea—she could only imagine what would happen if he had his eyes on her. Even Orochimaru, as much as he wanted to hide it, oozed malice that prickled—and his two peers, the Slug Princess and the Toad Sage, had similar problems.
Perhaps that was what happened when shinobi stood at those high stages.
But Takuma showed nothing. He didn't stand out and looked like an overworked grunt who couldn't catch a break half the time. Even with those scars of his—that by all right should make him look menacing—he seemed harmless—until he didn't. That lack of danger from him was what made him dangerous. People weren't cautious until they had a reason to be and Takuma didn't usually give people a reason to be cautious against him—so when he became a threat, it came as a massive surprise..
She had seen him fight Kameko and Rikku; both seemed like they could win until the last moment before they lost, and the conclusion seemed natural. In his fight against Rikku, Anko was so taken aback by her instincts, yelling at her that she needed to stop the fight or Rikku would be dead.
There was no reason for Takuma to kill Rikku, but seeing him atop her with a kunai, Anko genuinely thought he would for a moment.
When she found that Takuma had given Benzou the idea for the read, she was displeased, but she was also alarmed that a few words from a genin had led to something as big as the Gojiro Gold Mine operation with several jonin, dozens of chunin, and hundreds of genin involved—and it had happened just like Takuma wanted it to happen. Takuma had told her that he didn't think it would lead anywhere—but then it did—so was it intentional… or was it all by chance, as Takuma said.
She did not know but she was sure that Takuma would go a long way as a shinobi… if he managed to stay alive long enough.
Anko returned her attention back to Masumoto.
"As we discussed, as this is our first joint exercise, we will start with tag team sparring today," Masumoto said with a smile. "Only one member from each teams is allowed to spar at a time. If they lose they're replaced by one of their teammates and the spar continues. You can't stop sparring unless you lose—meaning no forfeiting. We—Chunin Mitarashi and I—will be recording everyone's performance and the people with the worst from both teams will be punished."
He looked at Anko and she nodded. They had decided that a tag team format spar would be a good exercise for both teams. Even though it was solo sparring, it was a team exercise if the teams strategized.
She turned to her team. "Decide who will go in first. Study your opponents and choose the matchups smartly. This is training; I want all of you to fight, so don't try to sit Iori and Daiki out.... Who's going first?"
Takuma turned to ask Kameko. "May I?" he asked.
Kameko thought for a moment before giving him the nod.
Takuma stepped closer to Anko and whispered in her ear. "We have an audience. He clearly invited people to watch…"
Anko turned her head to see groups of people walking toward them with a merry pep in their step as though they were about to watch an entertaining show. She glanced at Masumoto, who was conversing with his genin as though clueless to the gathering gallery.
"Then you better win," she said; a dangerous smile crept onto her face.
Takuma nodded. He turned away before facing Anko again; he hesitated for a moment before asking. "I will be embarrassing Masumoto Shohei—him directly. That's fine with you, right?"
Anko wondered what he meant, but she gave him the go ahead anyway.
She volunteered to referee the spars and stood between Takuma and Yuka, a new genin to Camp Banana. Takuma raised his hand to form the Seal of Confirmation that Yuka mimicked.
"Start."
Yuka jumped back, putting distance between her and Takuma, who remained in his place. He didn't pull out a kunai, which surprised Anko. She had sparred against him and seen enough of his spars against Rikku to know that he grabbed a kunai at the start of the fight. She was surprised again when Takuma approached Yuka measuredly. He either waited for his opponent to make a move or charged them at the first moment—this was once again different from his usual.
Yuka allowed Takuma to close the distance and then rushed him, abruptly changing from cautious to aggressive. Takuma didn't look surprised and received her effortlessly. She struck out fast and firm, aiming high for his head but Takuma kept pace and blocked all of her attacks .
Seeing that she failed to get him by surprise, Yuka fell back. Takuma, however, didn't allow that and moved forward with quick steps. He struck with a quick side-kick that Yuka blocked. Anko waited for Yuka to be blown back by the augmented blow, but it didn't happen. She looked at Takuma strangely; it was the perfect opportunity and he had more than enough time to prepare it.
'Why is he fighting weird?' she thought.
Yuka opted to take a stand and confront Takuma. She grabbed a kunai and pushed Takuma back, who once again didn't equip a kunai, electing instead to dodge Yuka's sharp blade play.
It had rained in the morning, leaving puddles in the fields. Their footwork sprayed standing water and dew, quickly drenching their pants. The sound of splashing water grew louder and chaotic as the fight picked up but Yuka wasn't able to nick a hair on Takuma's body.
He grabbed her arm, twisted her wrist to disarm her, and then headbutted her nose. She stumbled back, dazed, and he lightly kicked the back of her knee to force her down, running back and smashing a spinning kick into the side of her face.
The gallery cheered and hooted at the solid hit.
Anko glanced back and saw that more were joining the audience. Her eye went to Masumoto; displeasure flashed across his face, but he got his expression under control in a moment.
Yuka hit the ground and scampered back in an attempt to put some distance between them. When she tried to get up, she found the sharp tip of her dropped kunai held a few centimeters from her throat.
Takuma looked to Anko, waiting for her decision.
"Next," she said to Masumoto's team, who'd picked a genin called Akio..
Unlike Anko, Masumoto actively advised his team. He gazed at Takuma and pushed one of his genin forward. As Yuka walked back, Masumoto gave her a disapproving shake of his head and said something that made her face drop.
"Just a reminder, the use of ninjutsu is allowed," Takuma said to his new opponent. He threw Yuka's kunai away and raised his bare fists up. "You can use anything you want."
Akio was taken aback but pulled his hands up.
Anko smiled. She could tell what Akio was thinking. He was wondering if Takuma had reminded him of ninjutsu because he was going to use ninjutsu during the fight. A few words from Takuma had made Akio cautious and on the lookout.
Takuma very slowly stepped close to Akio and started with an intentionally telegraphed jab to Akio's guard. The strike was so light that it confused Akio, who struck out with a cross that Takuma effortlessly slapped aside and countered with a lightning-quick cross straight to the chest, bypassing Akio's half-guard. The cross tapped Akio's chest, once again not doing any real damage.
Akio frowned, anger flaring in his eyes. "Are you making fun—"
He wasn't able to complete his sentence as Takuma lightly kicked his calf with no real force behind it. Akio was so stunned that he forgot his anger for a moment before it flooded back in full force.
"I'm going to fuck you up," Akio spat heatedly and charged Takuma, who skipped back with a butterfly's grace.
Akio raged after him like a bull, with the intention to harm, each strike carrying the full force of his body. Takuma was the mirror opposite, the picture of calm. His defense was dexterous and he was agile on his feet—like he did with Yuka he evaded most of Akio's rush and blocked what he couldn't with a practiced ease.
Takuma continued to tap Akio with weak punches, striking through and around Akio's guard. The onlookers laughed every time Takuma managed to get a tap in, openly making fun of Akio, who only got angrier the more Takuma played with him. It was like Takuma was putting on a show—this was entertainment, not training. Akio was the bull, and Takuma, the matador, was doing his best to anger him more and more.
It was so unlike Takuma that Anko couldn't figure out his aim.
Takuma's core combat philosophy was to do hard damage and end fights as quickly as possible—no matter the execution, He aimed to do enough damage and pain that the opponent wouldn't want to fight. His augmented strikes landed where it would hurt the most, his kunai cut where it would bleed most. While most tried to do just enough damage to make their opponent surrender willingly, Takuma very much preferred to beat his opponent within an the inch of their lives, giving them one choice: surrender.
Akio threw a kunai at Takuma's face from a very short distance. Takuma caught it, and in the same continuous, fluid motion, he flung it back at Akio's legs. The kunai didn't draw blood and only lightly ripped Akio's pants at the inner thigh, very close to his crotch.
Akio flushed as she glanced at the spectators, who laughed like they were at a comedy show. He turned his eyes back at Takuma, who raised his hands and shrugged.
"Ninjutsu, c'mon."
Akio jumped back to put enough distance between them and then weaved hand seals for ninjutsu.
Unbothered, Takuma took out a shuriken and launched it toward Akio. The shuriken flew so fast that Akio was staggered. He abandoned the hand seals and skipped to the side, where another two shuriken landed next to his feet making him to a lurching stop. Three more shuriken passed by him, leaving rips in his clothes, and not breaking skin.
The next moment, Takuma was before Akio with a kunai in his hand. He tapped the shaken Akio's face with the flat of the kunai.
Takuma turned to Anko and said, "Next?"
Anko snorted and rolled her eyes at him.
"Next."
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CH_6.41 (212)
Fiction
Feel free to ask me questions.
On the sidelines, Team-9 watched the spars together. They should have been discussing their strategy, but that topic died when Takuma didn't use his chakra augmentation against his first opponent. Like Anko, they too, noticed that Takuma wasn't using his typical combat idiosyncrasies.
"I want to fight, too," Rikku said with irritation in her voice.
Daiki towered over her and draped her in his shadow. "We have just started, Miss Rikku. You will get to spar. Takuma has barely broken a sweat, and we are already two up. I think we will be winning this exercise," he had a rare half-malicious smile on his face.
He had already shared Masumoto's plan to upstage Anko with the rest of the team. They were naturally not fans of the plan, as using Anko to shine was the same thing as using them.
Standing on Rikku's other side, Kameko said, "She means that she might not get a chance to fight here." Her sharp eyes stared at Takuma's back, and as usual, she looked at him with obvious displeasure.
"What might you mean, Miss Kameko?" asked Daiki, confused. He knew that Takuma had asked Anko's permission to do something, but he didn't know what that something was.
"He's not coming back before he takes out their entire team," Iori answered with an amused snort. She looked at Kameko. "Am I right?"
Kameko nodded.
Iori continued, "Masumoto wants to use Anko and us. He even called everyone to watch," she gazed at the people standing a few paces away from them, "but Takuma's going to use them to make a mockery of Masumoto and his team. "A single member of Anko's Team-9 wiped the floor with Masumoto's Team-3"—if he succeeds, that'll be the possible gossip for the next few weeks. Depending on when Masumoto pulls it, Takuma might wipe the floor with them multiple times over."
"Then why are you so sour, Miss Kameko?" Daiki asked. Kameko and Takuma's arguments were always of interest to him; it was genuinely fascinating that they managed to argue about anything and everything.
"This affects the team; the team should handle it together," Kameko narrowed her eyes at Takuma, "but he's doing it all alone—that I don't like. The last time he did something on his own, he got chewed out by Toridasu in front of Shirakumo."
"Fascinating," Daiki smiled with admiration. He really wanted to give Kameko a round of applause for reacting as he expected her to. Absolutely hilarious.
"What?" Kameko frowned.
"Nothing, nothing at all. I agree that the entire team should be involved," Daiki said in support. "But as long as he's fighting, I don't think we'll get to do anything today."
Kameko clicked her tongue. She unsheathed her sword and started observing the edge of the blade.
Daiki chuckled merrily and returned his attention to the field where the third genin from Masumoto's Team-3 stepped to face Takuma. His name was Bun, and he was in his mid-twenties, three heads taller than Takuma, only slightly shorter than the giant Daiki, and was one of the oldest genin.
As Bun faced Takuma, the man looked nervous and even scared.
"That's strange, isn't it?" Daiki commented, seeing the nervousness of Bun.
"Bun, right?" Iori nodded in agreement. "Why isn't he acting like a douche? I expected him to try to make Takuma ask him to go easy on him by now."
"Exactly," said Daiki.
Bun had a particular reputation in Camp Banana. He was one of the oldest genin in Camp Banana and thought his seniority gave him the right to preach and push younger genin around because he was more experienced. His experience of many years couldn't be discounted, and he could pull his weight in a fight, which did yield him some privilege —but he was way too obnoxious about it. It was his way or the highway, and he'd shit on anyone who disagreed with him. The only people he listened to were the chunin and jonin, to whom he was utterly subservient.
No one really liked him, but they had to tolerate him because he got along with quite a few chunin, so seeing him act all nervous and scared was out of character for him.
"It's because of what happened in the gold mines," said Rikku. They looked at the girl who had sat down on the wet ground with a wince. "You all heard it, right? How Takuma tricked two enemies into surrendering and then killed them when they surrendered."
The team exchanged dark looks.
There were a lot of stories that floated upon their return to the base—and Takuma was one of the hottest topics. He was the mastermind behind the plan that killed the enemy iryo-nin and then murdered two enemy genin after they surrendered. The people who saw him had painted a picture of a cold-blooded murderer who lied as though it was his second-nature and had no mercy in his heart.
"I think he saw it first hand," Rikku pointed to Bam.
"He fears that Takuma will do something to him? That's ridiculous," said Daiki.
Iori breathed a heavy sigh. "Fears often are," she muttered, and everyone in the team heard her.
Takuma turned to look at them, and they froze. He gave them a comforting smile.
"C-Can he hear us?" asked Iori.
"He has terrifyingly sharp ears. He would make an excellent tracker," said Daiki, but he was similarly startled at the prospect of Takuma hearing them. That went beyond having sharp ears.
While Takuma was facing his team, faint courage flashed through Bun's eyes. He hastily raised his hands to weave hand seals for a ninjutsu.
"Takuma!" Daiki yelled to warn Takuma—but then Daiki clearly saw Takuma's eyes shift to Bun when the latter raised his hands for hand seals. Takuma calmly raised his hands as well and weaved hand seals of his own. Flaming tongues lit from the inside of Bun's mouth and streamed forwards. Takuma turned into a blur and vanished a split-second before his spot was engulfed by the flames.
Daiki's eyes darted, hurriedly seeking out Takuma, but the bright fires hampered his vision.
"Where is he?"
"There," Kameko pointed.
Takuma was a short distance away from the remains of the Fire-Release ninjutsu, completely unharmed by the flames.
"He used the Body Flicker," said Rikku.
"That's too risky," Kameko shook her head, stating that she wouldn't have used that move in the situation.
Rikku nodded in agreement but simultaneously said, "It's an open and flat field; there's only one enemy, and it was the first, and so far, only use. I can see why he thought the risk was acceptable."
The Body Flicker Jutsu was a jutsu that propelled the user forward at an extreme speed. Changing directions while using the jutsu was a herculean task until the end of the jutsu but because the body was physically propelled forward, the user had to prepare themselves for the extreme speed and then take a moment to gather themselves before doing so. This left them open for attack so those two moments that bookended the Body Flicker invited danger.
Takuma dashed to Bun the moment the Fire-Release ninjutsu ended. Bun drew the sword on his back and charged. Takuma pulled out a kunai as he engaged his opponent. Bun's experience showed as his movements became sharper and faster with time as he quickly fell into a rhythm. And yet, Bun was on the back foot, forced to react while Takuma dictated the flow of the battle.
He used the short kunai against the long sword, skilfully parrying the attacks. Even an untrained civilian could tell that Takuma's footwork was far superior as he moved in and out of Bun's range, dancing around Bun's sword that seemed incapable of slicing anything other than the open wind. Takuma's control over his body allowed him to use the humble kunai to make Bun look like a novice.
Bun made the mistake of giving into frustration. One over-committed downward slash that Takuma side-stepped with ease was all Takuma needed. He stamped on the blunt end of the blade with his foot, plunging the sword into the soft earth beneath the grassy field. Bun tried to pull his sword out; while he did, he saw Takuma pull his arm back. Bun let go of his sword, but couldn't guard in time. Takuma's fist smashed into his head and he slammed into the ground, dragged through the mud.
Takuma casually kicked the free sword away from Bun's vicinity.
Bun rolled to his feet. Takuma hopped forward before hitting Bun again in the head, this time with a devastating rotating backfist that hit Bun right below the ear. The man fell down again, falling twice in less than five seconds. Takuma might have been fighting differently, but some things didn't change. As Bun fell, Takuma caught his face with a front kick. Even without augmentation, Takuma's bare strikes were so powerful that the back of Bun's head hit the ground hard.
Anko quickly appeared between Takuma and Bun and placed Bun behind her back. The right side of his face was swollen, he had a bloody nose, and black and blue splotches marred his left jaw. His face was unrecognizable from before the fight.
"He was already knocked out before you kicked his face. Remember, this is a spar," Anko said, but her words lacked any heat. She gestured for the iryo-nin in the crowd to come close as she dragged Bun to where Team-3 stood.
"Send in the next one," she said.
"Mitarashi… do you think this is helping our teams?" Masumoto said to Anko.
Anko looked at Masumoto in surprise. "I don't understand, Masumoto. They're sparring. Of course, it helps. This might not be my place to say, but have some trust in your team. We haven't even completed a single rotation. Give them some time, for god's sake."
"Your guy knocked one of mine out cold. He was unintentionally heavy-handed."
Anko laughed and brushed his accusation aside. "It was an accident. Things like this happen during spars, and I have given him a warning. He won't do it again. Your guy will be fine after he's looked at."
Masumoto didn't look assured or happy with Anko's answer and blasé tone. "Accident? And what if I pulled my team out of this exercise now? There won't be another accident." He looked at Takuma in annoyance, who stood there with a hint of a smile.
"Are you sure that's wise?" Masumoto looked back at Anko. She continued. "Do you want to pull back in front of so many people? Do you want them to look at it like you pulled your team from the exercise because you didn't even have the backbone to let your team try to win? A weak leader… it's your first week, Masumoto. A grand failure will look terrible…"
Anko leaned close to his ear and whispered, "I heard that the quartermaster is looking to get on the field. How do you think Toridasu will see this? Didn't you want to impress him? At this rate, he might give the quartermaster a chance and you'll be left counting the number of senbon in stock…"
She drew closer and very softly hissed in his ear. Masumoto stiffened, and his face twisted in sheer discomfort as he stepped away from Anko. She patted his shoulder firmly and walked away with a smile.
"Let's get going," Takuma called out to Team-3. "Wasn't this supposed to be quick to keep on the pressure?"
Masumoto looked at one of his genin—Chotaro— and told him to go.
"M-Me?"
Masumoto looked fed-up. "Yeah, you. Hurry, go on… actually, wait and listen. Stay away from him. He's strong with taijutsu so go for long-ranged attacks. Use kunai, shuriken, paper bombs, anything—but start strong with a ninjutsu and try to throw him off his mojo. He might be bad under pressure. Don't give him time to breathe. Go now."
Chotaro walked towards Takuma but stopped a good distance away from him, fidgeting with nervous energy. He and Takuma stared at each other as though waiting for the other to make a move— but then suddenly, Chotaro moved erratically. He pulled several shuriken out of his pack, threw them around him, and then pulled a kunai and randomly slashed at the air.
He was like a madman, but everyone instantly recognized what was happening to Chotaro.
"Genjutsu," said Daiki.
"When did he cast it?" asked Iori.
"When Anko was talking to Masumoto," Kameko answered her. "I saw him weaving the hand seals."
Takuma stepped forward but stopped when Chotaro weaved the hand sea. Less than a dozen baseball-sized fire orbs surrounded him and fanned outwards. Takuma resumed after they sailed harmlessly over his head and moved closer to Chotaro, who once again swung his kunai at an invisible foe.
Takuma took out a bola, a capture weapon with heavy iron balls on both ends of a rope, and threw it low and straight. It snagged Chotaro and wrapped around his ankles. He thrashed around in a panic on the ground, but Takuma was already there before he could reach for his ankles to untie the rope. Takuma flipped Chotaro onto his stomach, held him down with his knee, and used a kunai he picked up on his way and stabbed the ground just beside Chotaro's ear, nicking it and drawing blood.
He released the genjutsu and got up, letting Chotaro free himself. He got up and found the two dozen Takuma formed by Genjutsu: Mist Servant Jutsu, and breathed a sigh of relief with a hand over his beating heart. He wasn't an opponent for one Takuma—facing two dozen of him was a terrifying nightmare.
Takuma ignored Chotaro's muttered thanks and turned to Anko.
He said, "I agree with Chunin Masumoto. This isn't helping either team. At this rate, I'm going to beat them over and over… No offense," he said to the last remaining genin on Masumoto's team. "How about we do something different?"
Anko held her silence but asked a moment later. "What do you suggest?"
"The exercise is between Team-9 and Team-3, and seeing that Team-3's genin aren't doing it for me, how about the chunin." Takuma regarded Masumoto with a challenging look. "I want to fight you, Chunin Masumoto."
Masumoto looked like he had misheard Takuma. He stared at Takuma before turning to look at Anko with a smile. But when she didn't say anything and stared back, he gawked.
"You're joking, right? You can't be serious… Takuma, was it?"
"I mean, not really," Takuma shrugged. "A chunin lead is also part of the team. You should take part in this joint exercise; it will help build teamwork and let you guys bond."
Masumoto laughed like he'd heard the joke of his life. "I will give it to you, kid… you're good, but you don't want to fight me. You're not there yet."
"Oh, but I think I'm there, Chunin Masumoto. Why not give it a try—and I will make it a learning experience for you." Takuma clenched his fist, and all his knuckles cracked loudly.
Masumoto licked his lower lip as he thought about how to respond, but someone else entered the conversation before he could say anything. Everyone turned their heads at the sound of a folding fan snapping shut. The entire audience had stood up in the presence of the leader of Camp Banana.
Toridasu looked like a delighted kid staring at his favorite toy. His gaze shifted between Takuma, Anko, and Masumoto, and he silently smiled.
"I like it. Let's do it… I agree with you, Genin Takuma. Chunin leads are part of the team; they should participate in the exercise." He looked at Masumoto. "You're new. I want to see what you can do—so fight Genin Takuma, and if it's as you say and you can beat him quickly, then you can fight Chunin Mitarashi and you two can put on a demonstration for all the genin in the camp."
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"I want to fight, too," Rikku said with irritation in her voice.
Daiki towered over her and draped her in his shadow. "We have just started, Miss Rikku. You will get to spar. Takuma has barely broken a sweat, and we are already two up. I think we will be winning this exercise," he had a rare half-malicious smile on his face.
He had already shared Masumoto's plan to upstage Anko with the rest of the team. They were naturally not fans of the plan, as using Anko to shine was the same thing as using them.
Standing on Rikku's other side, Kameko said, "She means that she might not get a chance to fight here." Her sharp eyes stared at Takuma's back, and as usual, she looked at him with obvious displeasure.
"What might you mean, Miss Kameko?" asked Daiki, confused. He knew that Takuma had asked Anko's permission to do something, but he didn't know what that something was.
"He's not coming back before he takes out their entire team," Iori answered with an amused snort. She looked at Kameko. "Am I right?"
Kameko nodded.
Iori continued, "Masumoto wants to use Anko and us. He even called everyone to watch," she gazed at the people standing a few paces away from them, "but Takuma's going to use them to make a mockery of Masumoto and his team. "A single member of Anko's Team-9 wiped the floor with Masumoto's Team-3"—if he succeeds, that'll be the possible gossip for the next few weeks. Depending on when Masumoto pulls it, Takuma might wipe the floor with them multiple times over."
"Then why are you so sour, Miss Kameko?" Daiki asked. Kameko and Takuma's arguments were always of interest to him; it was genuinely fascinating that they managed to argue about anything and everything.
"This affects the team; the team should handle it together," Kameko narrowed her eyes at Takuma, "but he's doing it all alone—that I don't like. The last time he did something on his own, he got chewed out by Toridasu in front of Shirakumo."
"Fascinating," Daiki smiled with admiration. He really wanted to give Kameko a round of applause for reacting as he expected her to. Absolutely hilarious.
"What?" Kameko frowned.
"Nothing, nothing at all. I agree that the entire team should be involved," Daiki said in support. "But as long as he's fighting, I don't think we'll get to do anything today."
Kameko clicked her tongue. She unsheathed her sword and started observing the edge of the blade.
Daiki chuckled merrily and returned his attention to the field where the third genin from Masumoto's Team-3 stepped to face Takuma. His name was Bun, and he was in his mid-twenties, three heads taller than Takuma, only slightly shorter than the giant Daiki, and was one of the oldest genin.
As Bun faced Takuma, the man looked nervous and even scared.
"That's strange, isn't it?" Daiki commented, seeing the nervousness of Bun.
"Bun, right?" Iori nodded in agreement. "Why isn't he acting like a douche? I expected him to try to make Takuma ask him to go easy on him by now."
"Exactly," said Daiki.
Bun had a particular reputation in Camp Banana. He was one of the oldest genin in Camp Banana and thought his seniority gave him the right to preach and push younger genin around because he was more experienced. His experience of many years couldn't be discounted, and he could pull his weight in a fight, which did yield him some privilege —but he was way too obnoxious about it. It was his way or the highway, and he'd shit on anyone who disagreed with him. The only people he listened to were the chunin and jonin, to whom he was utterly subservient.
No one really liked him, but they had to tolerate him because he got along with quite a few chunin, so seeing him act all nervous and scared was out of character for him.
"It's because of what happened in the gold mines," said Rikku. They looked at the girl who had sat down on the wet ground with a wince. "You all heard it, right? How Takuma tricked two enemies into surrendering and then killed them when they surrendered."
The team exchanged dark looks.
There were a lot of stories that floated upon their return to the base—and Takuma was one of the hottest topics. He was the mastermind behind the plan that killed the enemy iryo-nin and then murdered two enemy genin after they surrendered. The people who saw him had painted a picture of a cold-blooded murderer who lied as though it was his second-nature and had no mercy in his heart.
"I think he saw it first hand," Rikku pointed to Bam.
"He fears that Takuma will do something to him? That's ridiculous," said Daiki.
Iori breathed a heavy sigh. "Fears often are," she muttered, and everyone in the team heard her.
Takuma turned to look at them, and they froze. He gave them a comforting smile.
"C-Can he hear us?" asked Iori.
"He has terrifyingly sharp ears. He would make an excellent tracker," said Daiki, but he was similarly startled at the prospect of Takuma hearing them. That went beyond having sharp ears.
While Takuma was facing his team, faint courage flashed through Bun's eyes. He hastily raised his hands to weave hand seals for a ninjutsu.
"Takuma!" Daiki yelled to warn Takuma—but then Daiki clearly saw Takuma's eyes shift to Bun when the latter raised his hands for hand seals. Takuma calmly raised his hands as well and weaved hand seals of his own. Flaming tongues lit from the inside of Bun's mouth and streamed forwards. Takuma turned into a blur and vanished a split-second before his spot was engulfed by the flames.
Daiki's eyes darted, hurriedly seeking out Takuma, but the bright fires hampered his vision.
"Where is he?"
"There," Kameko pointed.
Takuma was a short distance away from the remains of the Fire-Release ninjutsu, completely unharmed by the flames.
"He used the Body Flicker," said Rikku.
"That's too risky," Kameko shook her head, stating that she wouldn't have used that move in the situation.
Rikku nodded in agreement but simultaneously said, "It's an open and flat field; there's only one enemy, and it was the first, and so far, only use. I can see why he thought the risk was acceptable."
The Body Flicker Jutsu was a jutsu that propelled the user forward at an extreme speed. Changing directions while using the jutsu was a herculean task until the end of the jutsu but because the body was physically propelled forward, the user had to prepare themselves for the extreme speed and then take a moment to gather themselves before doing so. This left them open for attack so those two moments that bookended the Body Flicker invited danger.
Takuma dashed to Bun the moment the Fire-Release ninjutsu ended. Bun drew the sword on his back and charged. Takuma pulled out a kunai as he engaged his opponent. Bun's experience showed as his movements became sharper and faster with time as he quickly fell into a rhythm. And yet, Bun was on the back foot, forced to react while Takuma dictated the flow of the battle.
He used the short kunai against the long sword, skilfully parrying the attacks. Even an untrained civilian could tell that Takuma's footwork was far superior as he moved in and out of Bun's range, dancing around Bun's sword that seemed incapable of slicing anything other than the open wind. Takuma's control over his body allowed him to use the humble kunai to make Bun look like a novice.
Bun made the mistake of giving into frustration. One over-committed downward slash that Takuma side-stepped with ease was all Takuma needed. He stamped on the blunt end of the blade with his foot, plunging the sword into the soft earth beneath the grassy field. Bun tried to pull his sword out; while he did, he saw Takuma pull his arm back. Bun let go of his sword, but couldn't guard in time. Takuma's fist smashed into his head and he slammed into the ground, dragged through the mud.
Takuma casually kicked the free sword away from Bun's vicinity.
Bun rolled to his feet. Takuma hopped forward before hitting Bun again in the head, this time with a devastating rotating backfist that hit Bun right below the ear. The man fell down again, falling twice in less than five seconds. Takuma might have been fighting differently, but some things didn't change. As Bun fell, Takuma caught his face with a front kick. Even without augmentation, Takuma's bare strikes were so powerful that the back of Bun's head hit the ground hard.
Anko quickly appeared between Takuma and Bun and placed Bun behind her back. The right side of his face was swollen, he had a bloody nose, and black and blue splotches marred his left jaw. His face was unrecognizable from before the fight.
"He was already knocked out before you kicked his face. Remember, this is a spar," Anko said, but her words lacked any heat. She gestured for the iryo-nin in the crowd to come close as she dragged Bun to where Team-3 stood.
"Send in the next one," she said.
"Mitarashi… do you think this is helping our teams?" Masumoto said to Anko.
Anko looked at Masumoto in surprise. "I don't understand, Masumoto. They're sparring. Of course, it helps. This might not be my place to say, but have some trust in your team. We haven't even completed a single rotation. Give them some time, for god's sake."
"Your guy knocked one of mine out cold. He was unintentionally heavy-handed."
Anko laughed and brushed his accusation aside. "It was an accident. Things like this happen during spars, and I have given him a warning. He won't do it again. Your guy will be fine after he's looked at."
Masumoto didn't look assured or happy with Anko's answer and blasé tone. "Accident? And what if I pulled my team out of this exercise now? There won't be another accident." He looked at Takuma in annoyance, who stood there with a hint of a smile.
"Are you sure that's wise?" Masumoto looked back at Anko. She continued. "Do you want to pull back in front of so many people? Do you want them to look at it like you pulled your team from the exercise because you didn't even have the backbone to let your team try to win? A weak leader… it's your first week, Masumoto. A grand failure will look terrible…"
Anko leaned close to his ear and whispered, "I heard that the quartermaster is looking to get on the field. How do you think Toridasu will see this? Didn't you want to impress him? At this rate, he might give the quartermaster a chance and you'll be left counting the number of senbon in stock…"
She drew closer and very softly hissed in his ear. Masumoto stiffened, and his face twisted in sheer discomfort as he stepped away from Anko. She patted his shoulder firmly and walked away with a smile.
"Let's get going," Takuma called out to Team-3. "Wasn't this supposed to be quick to keep on the pressure?"
Masumoto looked at one of his genin—Chotaro— and told him to go.
"M-Me?"
Masumoto looked fed-up. "Yeah, you. Hurry, go on… actually, wait and listen. Stay away from him. He's strong with taijutsu so go for long-ranged attacks. Use kunai, shuriken, paper bombs, anything—but start strong with a ninjutsu and try to throw him off his mojo. He might be bad under pressure. Don't give him time to breathe. Go now."
Chotaro walked towards Takuma but stopped a good distance away from him, fidgeting with nervous energy. He and Takuma stared at each other as though waiting for the other to make a move— but then suddenly, Chotaro moved erratically. He pulled several shuriken out of his pack, threw them around him, and then pulled a kunai and randomly slashed at the air.
He was like a madman, but everyone instantly recognized what was happening to Chotaro.
"Genjutsu," said Daiki.
"When did he cast it?" asked Iori.
"When Anko was talking to Masumoto," Kameko answered her. "I saw him weaving the hand seals."
Takuma stepped forward but stopped when Chotaro weaved the hand sea. Less than a dozen baseball-sized fire orbs surrounded him and fanned outwards. Takuma resumed after they sailed harmlessly over his head and moved closer to Chotaro, who once again swung his kunai at an invisible foe.
Takuma took out a bola, a capture weapon with heavy iron balls on both ends of a rope, and threw it low and straight. It snagged Chotaro and wrapped around his ankles. He thrashed around in a panic on the ground, but Takuma was already there before he could reach for his ankles to untie the rope. Takuma flipped Chotaro onto his stomach, held him down with his knee, and used a kunai he picked up on his way and stabbed the ground just beside Chotaro's ear, nicking it and drawing blood.
He released the genjutsu and got up, letting Chotaro free himself. He got up and found the two dozen Takuma formed by Genjutsu: Mist Servant Jutsu, and breathed a sigh of relief with a hand over his beating heart. He wasn't an opponent for one Takuma—facing two dozen of him was a terrifying nightmare.
Takuma ignored Chotaro's muttered thanks and turned to Anko.
He said, "I agree with Chunin Masumoto. This isn't helping either team. At this rate, I'm going to beat them over and over… No offense," he said to the last remaining genin on Masumoto's team. "How about we do something different?"
Anko held her silence but asked a moment later. "What do you suggest?"
"The exercise is between Team-9 and Team-3, and seeing that Team-3's genin aren't doing it for me, how about the chunin." Takuma regarded Masumoto with a challenging look. "I want to fight you, Chunin Masumoto."
Masumoto looked like he had misheard Takuma. He stared at Takuma before turning to look at Anko with a smile. But when she didn't say anything and stared back, he gawked.
"You're joking, right? You can't be serious… Takuma, was it?"
"I mean, not really," Takuma shrugged. "A chunin lead is also part of the team. You should take part in this joint exercise; it will help build teamwork and let you guys bond."
Masumoto laughed like he'd heard the joke of his life. "I will give it to you, kid… you're good, but you don't want to fight me. You're not there yet."
"Oh, but I think I'm there, Chunin Masumoto. Why not give it a try—and I will make it a learning experience for you." Takuma clenched his fist, and all his knuckles cracked loudly.
Masumoto licked his lower lip as he thought about how to respond, but someone else entered the conversation before he could say anything. Everyone turned their heads at the sound of a folding fan snapping shut. The entire audience had stood up in the presence of the leader of Camp Banana.
Toridasu looked like a delighted kid staring at his favorite toy. His gaze shifted between Takuma, Anko, and Masumoto, and he silently smiled.
"I like it. Let's do it… I agree with you, Genin Takuma. Chunin leads are part of the team; they should participate in the exercise." He looked at Masumoto. "You're new. I want to see what you can do—so fight Genin Takuma, and if it's as you say and you can beat him quickly, then you can fight Chunin Mitarashi and you two can put on a demonstration for all the genin in the camp."
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón [fictiononlyreader]. Link here and in signature.
Note: All the chapters will eventually be posted on public forums.
- Location
- Madness realms
Not really sure what his aim is here but he's being a real asshole about it.
God I love Takuma, he's such a little shit. Also I think this is a great way to showcase just how much he's grown since his first few Arena battles.
Edit: Like most things Takuma does, he's solidifying his position as being more than just another body meant to be thrown in the gears of war. That he's more than the average joe. Takuma has done a lot of good, but he has also done a lot of... less than moral actions to further his career.
Edit: Like most things Takuma does, he's solidifying his position as being more than just another body meant to be thrown in the gears of war. That he's more than the average joe. Takuma has done a lot of good, but he has also done a lot of... less than moral actions to further his career.
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- Location
- USA
Thanks for the chapters!
Go Takuma! He's come so far. That Ring training has made it so he is on another level when compared to most Genin. He's honestly a solid Chunin level threat!
Go Takuma! He's come so far. That Ring training has made it so he is on another level when compared to most Genin. He's honestly a solid Chunin level threat!
RogueDruid
"You are in my way, And simply unecessary"
- Location
- Salt lake city
Masumoto is Bishop, the ring fighter who trounced Takuma way back when he was starting in the arena- a rigged match where he was put against a way heavier opponent.
Now, he's shown up again as the new reinforcements for camp Banana- been bragging about being a ring fighter for clout, and trying to use Anko's unpopularity with the camp leadership to use Team-9 as a stepping stone.
Takuma hates All of that.
It's like running into a coworker who fucked you over who's telling stories about how easy it was to get a raise/promotion.
Takuma, of course, doesn't have the emotional bandwidth or social/political clout to handle this subtly- so he's instead falling back on bad habits of Violence and Humiliation. Because, for all his mental age and supposed maturity, he can be a spiteful bastard with the best of them.
Yeah,takuma has been pacing himself for this fight. A revenge!!!
MrRobot
In doubt there's always the Sun!
Takuma is basically a murrder gremlin that tries to be all proper and polite but when the bullshit start he can and will resort to violence, not necessarily because he likes it per say but that is how he understands how the ninja world works. He have a really low estimation on his new reality and a lot of confirmation bias.
This guy beat his ass when takuma was new to the ring and he was retiring so they set him up against takuma so he'd have an easy match, this is revenge
Revenge taste so sweet. It's sickening, but I love it.
- Location
- England
Very first sentence. 😅
That should be 'nary'. Both somewhat archaic words beginning with 'n', but completely different meanings.
That's a crappy blackboard. Or maybe it should be 'hard' not 'coarse'. Rough blackboards would use up chalk faster and not be as good for showing crisp writing and diagrams. The first blackboard is said to have been made in 1801 and was a solid piece of slate - well known for splitting to show smooth black surfaces.
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CH_6.42 (213)
Fiction
Feel free to ask me questions.
Takuma wasn't expecting Toridasu's appearance, but his words had made it a welcome thing. It made sense that Toridasu would come as Masumoto was trying to impress the guy, but Takuma thought he would observe without being seen. Perhaps that was a wrong assumption for a flashy man like Toridasu.
However, Takuma discerned from Toridasu's words that he didn't think Takuma would win. His true want was a fight between Anko and Masumoto—he was playing with the chunin, and Takuma was just the best way to make it happen. He couldn't guess why because he didn't have any real understanding of the man. Maybe Toridasu was bored and wanted some entertainment.
"I personally think this is a waste of time, but if you see some merit, I will comply." Masumoto had long hair that he tied up in a messy bun with a hair stick as he entered the 'field.' He regarded Takuma with an air of superiority. "Maybe you think you earned your arrogance, but you just haven't been knocked around enough, kid. I'll make a quick lesson out of this."
Masumoto accused Takuma of being arrogant, but his words were full of arrogance and overconfidence that his own ability was so much better than Takuma's. He considered those words, savored them, and decided that it was time to start the battle.
He bent down to fold his pants above his calves and pulled his shirt off, then the weighted gear, followed by the chainmail undershirt, and finally the innermost white vest, leaving his torso bare. Takuma usually wore full-sleeved clothes because his scars drew too much attention but he wanted Masumoto to know who he was fighting.
He noticed the whispers when he ditched his wrist and ankle weights. He knew it would happen, but he didn't mind it—he had long gotten used to it. In some ways, his current attire was freeing. It took him back to his days in the Ring. He closed his eyes, and breathed through nose, filling it with the heavy scent of sweat—and as distant as it was, he heard the crowd's roars.
"Knocking those weights isn't going to help much," said Masumoto, but his eyes lingered on Takuma's scars as he watched Takuma throw his clothes away. "You should at least put the chainmail back on. It won't make a difference, but at least, you'll feel safer."
Takuma's reply was to take out two blank masks from his pouch and toss one of them to Masumoto.
"I will wear one if you wear one," Takuma held up the mask in his hand. "There's no dome, or that awfully bloody floor, or a roaring audience screaming at the top of their lungs—but I think those masks will be enough to bring that hateful vibe here."
Masumoto's eyes widened in surprise at Takuma's very pointed words. He looked at the mask in his hand, and realization dawned on him. He looked around, at the crowd, at Toridasu, for their reactions and recognition. He looked half-worried even though he had been bragging about the thing a few nights ago.
"Bishop," said Takuma, clearing any and all doubt.
The surprise dripped away from Masumoto's face. He looked at Takuma's exposed torso and arms.
"…Scars, was it?" he said. "I don't think we ever fought, did we? You were after my time."
"We fought, we did. But I was a baby back then. You beat me good," Takuma smiled.
"This is what… revenge?"
"Oh no, I don't care about it enough for it to be revenge… It's a simple rematch."
The growing grin on Masumoto's face said that he didn't believe Takuma. "Sure, it's not like I have a choice in the matter." He asked, "Ring's rules?"
"No rules."
"No rules, ballsy. Fine by me. A repeat performance it is."
"A reverse performance," Takuma corrected him. "I'm going to thrash you so hard that you will lose a few inches. Not that you have many of those."
"I doubt that, boy." Masumoto threw the blank face mask away. And unlike Takuma, he didn't remove his clothes. "I hope you don't mind."
Takuma smiled. He threw the mask as well.
"No rules, remember," he said.
———
.
Some distance away from Takuma and Masumoto, Anko was in her own mind. She was going to fight Masumoto after Takuma, and she was planning to carefully observe the fight to gain insight into Masumoto's combat style. She readied herself—watching a fight and observing a fight to get actual insight were two very different things.
But then she heard her name called. Anko turned back at Toridasu's voice and walked to him.
"Yes, sir?" she asked. Toridasu was once again playing a game, and she was displeased to be a part of it without knowing what it was.
"What are they talking about?" he asked her.
"Pardon, I'm not sure what you mean," she returned.
"Don't act clueless, girl. They obviously know each other somewhere else, but not by their true identities. Scars and Bishop—those are aliases of some kind. What are they?"
"And why do you think I would know about them, sir?"
"Let's just say it's a hunch… Both of them were stationed in the Hidden Leaf village, and so were you." Toridasu stared at her from the side, expecting an answer from her.
Anko sighed before starting. "They're talking about an underground fighting ring called the Ring. Scars and Bishop are obviously their stage names. Takuma mentioned a dome and a bloody floor; all Ring arenas are chain-linked domes." She pointed at the masks both of them had thrown away. "The fighters wear masks to hide their identities— and male fighters fight bare-chested with shorts like Takuma's emulating now."
"You seem knowledgeable about it all. Did you, perchance, participate in prizefighting? I wouldn't be surprised," Toridasu hid his smile behind his fan.
"Purely as an audience member, sir." She raised her eyes to match his gaze. "I'm surprised you didn't know about it. You, too, are stationed in the village."
Toridasu laughed boisterously as though mocking Anko. "I've been a jonin longer than you have been alive, dear Anko. Yes, I have heard of the Ring—but I'm not familiar with it to a degree where I can deduce it from a vague conversation. I'm in a far different social hierarchy than all of you here; I frequent the circles the Daimyo is part of. Watching shinobi fight might be of interest to the civilians, but it does nothing for me. I've already seen a lifetime of it and continue to see more."
Anko rolled her eyes. She couldn't care how posh Toridasu's life was—he was just a bald git to her.
"But it's impressive that you could piece it together so quickly. No wonder you were selected into the T&I department," Toridasu commented off-handedly.
Anko's thoughts came to a crashing stop. She stared at him, doubting what she had just heard. Even Toridasu looked like he didn't realize what he had just said.
"What did you just say?" she asked.
"Hmm?" Toridasu stared back and a flash of understanding shone across his face. "Oh!" he laughed. "They didn't tell you? It's in your file. Yeah, you got selected into T&I, but you were deployed before you could join. Maybe that's why they didn't bother telling you. Pretty funny if you ask me."
Anko had already stopped listening. She looked ahead, unable to focus on anything happening around her. She wanted to flee to a place where no one could find her so she could be left alone.
The best time of her life was training under Orochimaru. The training was harsh, and he was tough on her, but she felt gratified when he praised her and when she felt she had improved. When she made chunin, she was showered with praise from all over the country—most of them were because she was Orochimaru's student when he was still the honorable Sannin—but she didn't mind it as she had made herself a chunin and no one could deny it.
Everything came crashing down when Orochimaru was branded a traitor because of his involvement with criminals. He had even left his mark on her. All the paths that had opened to her as a chunin (and Orochimaru's student) vanished. People from the biggest clans lined up to work with her, but after his escape, she became something no one wanted to touch—a pariah. It was tough, but she decided to put her head down and work it out. She thought that if she worked hard, her efforts would pay off. She didn't need to be Orochimaru's student to succeed; she could succeed in spite of being his student.
She understood that she would need to work twice or even thrice as much to get the equivalent treatment to others—and she accepted that unfair reality. To prove herself and her worth as a kunoichi, she applied to various departments and prominent jonin teams in hopes that one would pick her up. No avenue was not considered important. She studied the departments extensively—from their work, history, and people—leaving no stone unturned. She took more and more missions to improve her qualifications and applied for more dangerous ones, so it didn't seem she was padding them.
The Torture and Interrogation Department was her dream job. She wanted nothing more than to get selected into its ranks. The department head had the reputation of being fair and judged people on their accomplishments and deeds rather than their background. Anko thought if the head was fair, then the department's culture would be similar, filled with like-minded people. That's all she could ever want—a place that would look beyond her taint and accept her for who she was.
In her opinion, she crushed the test assignments, aced the interview process with flying colors, and was confident that the letter for her probation period would come in the post any day.
It never came.
Instead, she got her deployment orders in her mailbox.
For the past several months, she had been under the conception that she had failed to get into the T&I Department—that her everything wasn't enough—that she couldn't even blame Orochimaru because of the department head's reputation of being fair and just.
She wanted those months back where every time she had any time to herself, her mind would dip to a low, and she would torture herself that everything she had gained since she was ten years old was due to Orochimaru, and when he was gone, she couldn't even get the job she wanted. Her own cruel voice in her head told her that she wasn't deserving of her rank as a chunin. All that time she had knocked herself down, she wanted it back so she could hold her head high and be confident in her ability as a proud shinobi of the Hidden Leaf.
Anko clenched her fist, digging her nails into the flesh of her palms. The pain was almost not enough to stop tears from pouring out. She couldn't let those emotions show up in front of everybody, especially not in front of Toridasu. The man would take advantage of her weakness and make her feel even more terrible, which she didn't think possible, but she wouldn't put it past Toridasu.
"…It's good to know that at least someone has an eye for talent," Anko said, faking her usual front.
"And what about you? Do you have an eye for talent," Toridasu asked. He was looking at Takuma when he said that. "You seem to be going along with this well."
"I give my team chances to flourish and prove themselves."
"Even after what he did?"
"We got a successful massive operation. Net profit."
"And do you think he will hold up against Masumoto?"
Anko shrugged. "If he does, good for him. At the end of the day, Team-9's going to take the prize home either way."
She looked up at him and smiled. If Takuma couldn't, then she would beat Masumoto into the ground.
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However, Takuma discerned from Toridasu's words that he didn't think Takuma would win. His true want was a fight between Anko and Masumoto—he was playing with the chunin, and Takuma was just the best way to make it happen. He couldn't guess why because he didn't have any real understanding of the man. Maybe Toridasu was bored and wanted some entertainment.
"I personally think this is a waste of time, but if you see some merit, I will comply." Masumoto had long hair that he tied up in a messy bun with a hair stick as he entered the 'field.' He regarded Takuma with an air of superiority. "Maybe you think you earned your arrogance, but you just haven't been knocked around enough, kid. I'll make a quick lesson out of this."
Masumoto accused Takuma of being arrogant, but his words were full of arrogance and overconfidence that his own ability was so much better than Takuma's. He considered those words, savored them, and decided that it was time to start the battle.
He bent down to fold his pants above his calves and pulled his shirt off, then the weighted gear, followed by the chainmail undershirt, and finally the innermost white vest, leaving his torso bare. Takuma usually wore full-sleeved clothes because his scars drew too much attention but he wanted Masumoto to know who he was fighting.
He noticed the whispers when he ditched his wrist and ankle weights. He knew it would happen, but he didn't mind it—he had long gotten used to it. In some ways, his current attire was freeing. It took him back to his days in the Ring. He closed his eyes, and breathed through nose, filling it with the heavy scent of sweat—and as distant as it was, he heard the crowd's roars.
"Knocking those weights isn't going to help much," said Masumoto, but his eyes lingered on Takuma's scars as he watched Takuma throw his clothes away. "You should at least put the chainmail back on. It won't make a difference, but at least, you'll feel safer."
Takuma's reply was to take out two blank masks from his pouch and toss one of them to Masumoto.
"I will wear one if you wear one," Takuma held up the mask in his hand. "There's no dome, or that awfully bloody floor, or a roaring audience screaming at the top of their lungs—but I think those masks will be enough to bring that hateful vibe here."
Masumoto's eyes widened in surprise at Takuma's very pointed words. He looked at the mask in his hand, and realization dawned on him. He looked around, at the crowd, at Toridasu, for their reactions and recognition. He looked half-worried even though he had been bragging about the thing a few nights ago.
"Bishop," said Takuma, clearing any and all doubt.
The surprise dripped away from Masumoto's face. He looked at Takuma's exposed torso and arms.
"…Scars, was it?" he said. "I don't think we ever fought, did we? You were after my time."
"We fought, we did. But I was a baby back then. You beat me good," Takuma smiled.
"This is what… revenge?"
"Oh no, I don't care about it enough for it to be revenge… It's a simple rematch."
The growing grin on Masumoto's face said that he didn't believe Takuma. "Sure, it's not like I have a choice in the matter." He asked, "Ring's rules?"
"No rules."
"No rules, ballsy. Fine by me. A repeat performance it is."
"A reverse performance," Takuma corrected him. "I'm going to thrash you so hard that you will lose a few inches. Not that you have many of those."
"I doubt that, boy." Masumoto threw the blank face mask away. And unlike Takuma, he didn't remove his clothes. "I hope you don't mind."
Takuma smiled. He threw the mask as well.
"No rules, remember," he said.
———
.
Some distance away from Takuma and Masumoto, Anko was in her own mind. She was going to fight Masumoto after Takuma, and she was planning to carefully observe the fight to gain insight into Masumoto's combat style. She readied herself—watching a fight and observing a fight to get actual insight were two very different things.
But then she heard her name called. Anko turned back at Toridasu's voice and walked to him.
"Yes, sir?" she asked. Toridasu was once again playing a game, and she was displeased to be a part of it without knowing what it was.
"What are they talking about?" he asked her.
"Pardon, I'm not sure what you mean," she returned.
"Don't act clueless, girl. They obviously know each other somewhere else, but not by their true identities. Scars and Bishop—those are aliases of some kind. What are they?"
"And why do you think I would know about them, sir?"
"Let's just say it's a hunch… Both of them were stationed in the Hidden Leaf village, and so were you." Toridasu stared at her from the side, expecting an answer from her.
Anko sighed before starting. "They're talking about an underground fighting ring called the Ring. Scars and Bishop are obviously their stage names. Takuma mentioned a dome and a bloody floor; all Ring arenas are chain-linked domes." She pointed at the masks both of them had thrown away. "The fighters wear masks to hide their identities— and male fighters fight bare-chested with shorts like Takuma's emulating now."
"You seem knowledgeable about it all. Did you, perchance, participate in prizefighting? I wouldn't be surprised," Toridasu hid his smile behind his fan.
"Purely as an audience member, sir." She raised her eyes to match his gaze. "I'm surprised you didn't know about it. You, too, are stationed in the village."
Toridasu laughed boisterously as though mocking Anko. "I've been a jonin longer than you have been alive, dear Anko. Yes, I have heard of the Ring—but I'm not familiar with it to a degree where I can deduce it from a vague conversation. I'm in a far different social hierarchy than all of you here; I frequent the circles the Daimyo is part of. Watching shinobi fight might be of interest to the civilians, but it does nothing for me. I've already seen a lifetime of it and continue to see more."
Anko rolled her eyes. She couldn't care how posh Toridasu's life was—he was just a bald git to her.
"But it's impressive that you could piece it together so quickly. No wonder you were selected into the T&I department," Toridasu commented off-handedly.
Anko's thoughts came to a crashing stop. She stared at him, doubting what she had just heard. Even Toridasu looked like he didn't realize what he had just said.
"What did you just say?" she asked.
"Hmm?" Toridasu stared back and a flash of understanding shone across his face. "Oh!" he laughed. "They didn't tell you? It's in your file. Yeah, you got selected into T&I, but you were deployed before you could join. Maybe that's why they didn't bother telling you. Pretty funny if you ask me."
Anko had already stopped listening. She looked ahead, unable to focus on anything happening around her. She wanted to flee to a place where no one could find her so she could be left alone.
The best time of her life was training under Orochimaru. The training was harsh, and he was tough on her, but she felt gratified when he praised her and when she felt she had improved. When she made chunin, she was showered with praise from all over the country—most of them were because she was Orochimaru's student when he was still the honorable Sannin—but she didn't mind it as she had made herself a chunin and no one could deny it.
Everything came crashing down when Orochimaru was branded a traitor because of his involvement with criminals. He had even left his mark on her. All the paths that had opened to her as a chunin (and Orochimaru's student) vanished. People from the biggest clans lined up to work with her, but after his escape, she became something no one wanted to touch—a pariah. It was tough, but she decided to put her head down and work it out. She thought that if she worked hard, her efforts would pay off. She didn't need to be Orochimaru's student to succeed; she could succeed in spite of being his student.
She understood that she would need to work twice or even thrice as much to get the equivalent treatment to others—and she accepted that unfair reality. To prove herself and her worth as a kunoichi, she applied to various departments and prominent jonin teams in hopes that one would pick her up. No avenue was not considered important. She studied the departments extensively—from their work, history, and people—leaving no stone unturned. She took more and more missions to improve her qualifications and applied for more dangerous ones, so it didn't seem she was padding them.
The Torture and Interrogation Department was her dream job. She wanted nothing more than to get selected into its ranks. The department head had the reputation of being fair and judged people on their accomplishments and deeds rather than their background. Anko thought if the head was fair, then the department's culture would be similar, filled with like-minded people. That's all she could ever want—a place that would look beyond her taint and accept her for who she was.
In her opinion, she crushed the test assignments, aced the interview process with flying colors, and was confident that the letter for her probation period would come in the post any day.
It never came.
Instead, she got her deployment orders in her mailbox.
For the past several months, she had been under the conception that she had failed to get into the T&I Department—that her everything wasn't enough—that she couldn't even blame Orochimaru because of the department head's reputation of being fair and just.
She wanted those months back where every time she had any time to herself, her mind would dip to a low, and she would torture herself that everything she had gained since she was ten years old was due to Orochimaru, and when he was gone, she couldn't even get the job she wanted. Her own cruel voice in her head told her that she wasn't deserving of her rank as a chunin. All that time she had knocked herself down, she wanted it back so she could hold her head high and be confident in her ability as a proud shinobi of the Hidden Leaf.
Anko clenched her fist, digging her nails into the flesh of her palms. The pain was almost not enough to stop tears from pouring out. She couldn't let those emotions show up in front of everybody, especially not in front of Toridasu. The man would take advantage of her weakness and make her feel even more terrible, which she didn't think possible, but she wouldn't put it past Toridasu.
"…It's good to know that at least someone has an eye for talent," Anko said, faking her usual front.
"And what about you? Do you have an eye for talent," Toridasu asked. He was looking at Takuma when he said that. "You seem to be going along with this well."
"I give my team chances to flourish and prove themselves."
"Even after what he did?"
"We got a successful massive operation. Net profit."
"And do you think he will hold up against Masumoto?"
Anko shrugged. "If he does, good for him. At the end of the day, Team-9's going to take the prize home either way."
She looked up at him and smiled. If Takuma couldn't, then she would beat Masumoto into the ground.
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CH_6.43 (214)
Fiction
Feel free to ask me questions.
The grip around the kunai felt perfect. He gripped it tighter to feel the cold metal underneath the wrapping as he contemplated on how to proceed. Masumoto matched his steps with a heckling grin as they kept an unchanging distance between them. Takuma could wait for Masumoto to make his first move, influence him into making the first move, or make the first move himself.
What do I want? Takuma asked himself the question.
He wanted to know more about Masumoto. He had no interest in knowing about the man called Masumoto, yuck—but he had considerable interest in knowing Masumoto the fighter. The man in front of him wasn't just Bishop—just like Scars wasn't Takuma. Even then, he didn't know much, if anything, about Bishop, so his mental image of Masumoto was lacking.
As his wants became clear, Takuma broke the equilibrium and strode towards Masumoto, who grinned wider. The man stood there, welcoming Takuma to have a go at him. Takuma broke into a run and lobbed the kunai at Masumoto. He took another kunai and threw that as well, but this time, he gave it an extra push through augmentation. The second kunai caught up to the first one despite the difference in release.
It surprised Masumoto, but he handled it effortlessly. He avoided one of them and parried the second. But the twin kunai were only the start of Takuma's offense. He breached Masumoto's range with a feint. Masumoto moved to block, but the punch was only a cover for the kunai in his other hand.
Masumoto jerked his torso back to avoid the kunai so Takuma switched to a reverse grip and slashed the kunai back. Masumoto latched hold of Takuma's arm to stop the sharp kunai so he let go of the kunai; it dropped into his other hand and went for a vicious gutting stab. Masumoto, of course, still had another hand that he put in the kunai's way. The blade ripped through Masumoto's lower sleeve, but it drew no blood and scratched against a metal arm guard. With his other hand in Masumoto's firm grip, the other man forcefully redirected the kunai away from his body.
Takuma's hands were now in Masumoto's firm grasp. The two fighters looked at each other and moved simultaneously. Takuma tried to overpower Masumoto and bend the latter's arms into an awkward position—but Masumoto was quicker. He kicked Takuma in the stomach. The hit pushed him back a couple of meters but was now free from Masumoto's grasp, though not for long.
Masumoto rushed at Takuma, not bothering to feint or force Takuma's guard down. He overwhelmed Takuma with a dense flurry of combinations. Takuma blocked, dodged, and countered wherever he could but it was clear that he was being pushed back.
'He's a melee fighter,' Takuma deduced. He looked up at Masumoto with a smile, and his heart spiked for a beat when he recognized the look on Masumoto's face.
The dull brown eyes were looking at him—really looking at him.
Takuma wasn't the only one observing and making deductions.
Takuma dug his feet into the dirt, his soles skidding on the slippery grass before he could find his feet. He took a stand and turned up the aggression. Takuma used what he noticed and drove a heavy straight into Masumoto's side followed by a few more solid strikes, but he left himself open to a barrage of kicks that left his lower half throbbing painfully.
Both sides got in satisfying hits as the tactics switched up. Takuma snaked his hands around and under Masumoto's guard and grabbed him by his clothes, tossed him to the ground over his shoulder with a grunt of effort.. He raised his right fist and his chakra flooded the pathways in his arm, and slammed it down.
Masumoto winced when he hit the ground but gathered his focus in time to see the throbbing vein on Takuma's forehead and the raised fist capturing the sun behind it. Danger. He slapped away Takuma's other hand—the one pinning him to the ground—and rolled to the side, using the momentum to continue rolling. The earth exploded and from as far as he was, he felt the ground sink and shudder as he was showered.
Takuma growled as pulled his arm out of the soft ground.
He noticed Masumoto's dirt-covered face staring at the crater he had just created. Their eyes met, and they sprang into action again. Masumoto, on all fours, turned his back to Takuma and tried to pull away. Takuma leapt forward, grabbed a leg, and dragged his opponent back. Masumoto turned again, now facing Takuma; he kicked him, digging his heel into his shoulder. Takuma's face twitched with pain, but he didn't let go and gave a sharp tug to yank Masumoto closer.
He was going to cave Masumoto's chest in with an augmented stomp if it was the last thing he did.
Three shuriken headed for Takuma's face but he raised an arm and hissed painfully when they dug into his upper arm. Masumoto laughed at Takuma's painful grunts as he pulled away, having secured the time and space he needed to get back to his feet.
As Takuma pulled the shuriken from his arm, Masumoto weaved through several hand seals.
Takuma jumped back and did the same, ignoring the twitch his punctured arm gave.
Fire-Style: Twin Tiger's Fury
Water-Style: Eight Tentacles
Starting from his fists, Masumoto's arms were engulfed in fiery flames up to halfway above his elbow. The pooling fire made Masumoto's fists look thrice their actual size. Each time he flexed, the fires expanded, burning hotter.
"I'm hungry; let's do some cooking, boy," Masumoto said as he cracked his neck.
The water in the field rose and collected behind Takuma. With a flex of his shoulder blades, eight whole tentacles shot out from behind his back. Each of them moved like they were alive. Takuma dipped into the pack around his thigh and threw four kunai that were then snatched up from the air by four tentacles.
"I won't trust you to boil water properly. It'd probably be lukewarm… like you," said Takuma.
Masumoto chuckled with a smile that didn't reach his eyes before dashing toward him. Takuma responded in kind and rushed forward as well. Masumoto pulled one of his arms back and punched a jet of fire toward Takuma. It roared as it blasted out of his hands. The water tentacles writhed into action, forming a protective umbrella in front of Takuma.
Despite its usefulness, Eight Tentacles wasn't a defensive jutsu and while it managed to block out the flames, he felt the intense heat wash over him as though he was standing in front of a furnace.
The water began to boil—and even steam to Takuma's surprise.
Wasn't water supposed to have an advantage over fire? Takuma jumped away, but Masumoto didn't release the pressure, pursuing Takuma and blasting him with consecutive fire jets with incredible reach. Takuma tried his best, but Masumoto was just as fast as he was, and any difference in speed between them was easily made up for by the extended reach that accursed fire jutsu provided.
The heat stung, and Takuma was dripping with sweat. He tried to whip Masumoto with the tentacles in hopes of extinguishing the flames, but they would replenish and lick angrily against his tentacles. Takuma quickly realized he needed to douse all or most of the fire to break the jutsu. The tentacles had already nearly halved in length and he knew they wouldn't last long, and he couldn't go in close to knock Masumoto out because of the harsh flames.
"Is this hot enough for you?" Masumoto laughed and punched forth, and Takuma had to pull off his tentacles in front of him to block the fire that was the same size as his body.
Takuma didn't reply and jumped up high into the sky. The ground cracked under the force of his chakra, pushing him high enough to see the camp stretching across the field. Masumoto was directly below him, his arms still shrouded in fire. The tentacles moved before Takuma, hiding him from Masumoto's view. Behind the tentacles, Takuma weaved hand seals for Water Release: Wild Water Wave. As Takuma descended, the tentacles moved aside, and Takuma poured down a furious flood on Masumoto, who failed to dodge it in time.
The fire jutsu broke, and Masumoto was drenched from head to toe. His hair was flat against forehead and Takuma laughed, the sight reminding him of a wet dog. The pressure of the jutsu, acting with gravity, weighed down on Masumoto, forcing him to kneel and then lie flat against the ground. Even though it didn't have high offensive power, Wild Water Wave was still a C-rank jutsu.
Takuma landed and two half-length tentacles dropped their kunai into his hands. He launched both forwards; one nicked Masumoto's shoulder but he caught the other. He rose shakily and stumbled back when Takuma charged at him. It was clear that he was still feeling the battery from the Wild Water Wave. He threw the kunai back at Takuma, but it was so weak that Takuma didn't even think of slowing down when he stepped out of its way.
Takuma pushed off his back leg and swung his fist wide as he dropped over Masumoto. The augmented force hit Masumoto's forearms, blowing him away—he rolled like a tumbleweed in the high wind. Takuma could feel that this was his chance to pull the victory into his court and gave chase. He covered ground in one long leap, and jumped up high to then descend right over Masumoto, intending to re-do the augmented stomp he had missed—but this time with both of his feet.
Masumoto's arms trembled from the force of Takuma's blows and his face was flushed beet-red with pain. He saw Takuma coming down on him once again and rolled away at the last moment. A crater thrice the size of the previous one marred the earth.
Takuma was irritated that he missed again but Masumoto was close this time and he didn't intended to miss a third time. His fist grew hot at the amount of chakra flowing through it and he brought it down.. Masumoto, who was struggling to get up from the ground, suddenly lashed his arm towards him.
Takuma saw a fistful of dirt headed for his face and squeezed his eyes shut.
His heart sank when he opened his eyes to see Masumoto up and in a solid ready stance.. His arms were still trembling, but everything else looked perfectly fine. Strangely, he held a kunai between his teeth.
Takuma realized what had happened because he had done it before.
The next moment, he felt a foot smash into his knee from the side, destroying his balance and forcing him to kneel awkwardly. Takuma wanted to laugh because of how familiar it felt. He had fallen into a trap. Masumoto had first pretended to be hurt, then took real damage from his augmented diving punch to sell it, and lured Takuma in to have a possibility for a dirty sneak attack.
Masumoto weaved hand seals before grabbing the kunai in his mouth. The metal sizzled before the blade turned a glowing red with wisps of flames burning on the surface. He brought down the scorching kunai down at Takuma's outstretched thigh.
Takuma was forced into a vulnerable position, but he wasn't defenseless. He gritted his teeth and stopped the kunai with both his hands. The kunai didn't cut him, but the ninjutsu burned the skin and flesh of his hand.
Masumoto had a sadistic smile as Takuma screamed in his face.
"Hot enough?" Masumoto said, eerily calm.
Masumoto didn't try to force the kunai as his arms were still recovering from Takuma's augmented hit. He released the kunai, and so did Takuma, who truly realized that he was back to fighting a real Ring fighter when Masumoto struck him in the throat.
Takuma felt his ability to breathe to go away—but he didn't panic.
It had been a while, but he was a Ring fighter too.
Masumoto performed a spinning sidekick and smashed it into Takuma's jaw. Takuma swayed dangerously and the world felt like one massive marshmallow beneath his feet. Masumoto pulled out a kunai and went in to gut him. Takuma moved his hand in kunai's way at the last moment to successfully save his stomach.
"Respect, brother," said Masumoto, sounding strangely genuine about it, "but this is the end."
The last thing Masumoto saw before he blacked out for a moment was the crazed look on Takuma's face before he headbutted him in the face and he sagged to the ground. When he came to after a couple of seconds, Masumoto felt a world of pain and disorientation so extreme that he instantly vomited. His nose was broken, he had orbital fractures, his lips was split—his face was just one bleeding mess.
All of that was from a single headbutt.
Out of pure instinct, Takuma's chakra rushed to augment his forehead—it was the first augmented headbutt of his life.
Takuma completely ignored it and put some distance between him and Masumoto despite seeing the state of his opponent. He needed a moment to get his head and balance straight and knew a Ring fighter of Bishop's level wouldn't go down so easily.
He looked down at the kunai-shaped burn wound branding his hands. His palms flared at the slightest movement. He clenched his fists. The more pain he felt, the clearer his head became.
He looked back at Masumoto; the man stood up and stared Takuma down as he snapped his dislocated jaw back into place. Even his messed-up face couldn't hide the anger he was feeling.
Weaving hands seals hurt, but Takuma did it without letting it show on his face.
Water Style: Water Clone Jutsu
The water rose from the wet ground, forming a moist mass that took the shape of Takuma's body contours, morphing into a perfect clone of himself.
"Scars," said Takuma, assigning the role to himself.
"Takuma," said the clone, doing the same.
If one of him was having a difficult time ending the fight then this ought to solve that problem.
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What do I want? Takuma asked himself the question.
He wanted to know more about Masumoto. He had no interest in knowing about the man called Masumoto, yuck—but he had considerable interest in knowing Masumoto the fighter. The man in front of him wasn't just Bishop—just like Scars wasn't Takuma. Even then, he didn't know much, if anything, about Bishop, so his mental image of Masumoto was lacking.
As his wants became clear, Takuma broke the equilibrium and strode towards Masumoto, who grinned wider. The man stood there, welcoming Takuma to have a go at him. Takuma broke into a run and lobbed the kunai at Masumoto. He took another kunai and threw that as well, but this time, he gave it an extra push through augmentation. The second kunai caught up to the first one despite the difference in release.
It surprised Masumoto, but he handled it effortlessly. He avoided one of them and parried the second. But the twin kunai were only the start of Takuma's offense. He breached Masumoto's range with a feint. Masumoto moved to block, but the punch was only a cover for the kunai in his other hand.
Masumoto jerked his torso back to avoid the kunai so Takuma switched to a reverse grip and slashed the kunai back. Masumoto latched hold of Takuma's arm to stop the sharp kunai so he let go of the kunai; it dropped into his other hand and went for a vicious gutting stab. Masumoto, of course, still had another hand that he put in the kunai's way. The blade ripped through Masumoto's lower sleeve, but it drew no blood and scratched against a metal arm guard. With his other hand in Masumoto's firm grip, the other man forcefully redirected the kunai away from his body.
Takuma's hands were now in Masumoto's firm grasp. The two fighters looked at each other and moved simultaneously. Takuma tried to overpower Masumoto and bend the latter's arms into an awkward position—but Masumoto was quicker. He kicked Takuma in the stomach. The hit pushed him back a couple of meters but was now free from Masumoto's grasp, though not for long.
Masumoto rushed at Takuma, not bothering to feint or force Takuma's guard down. He overwhelmed Takuma with a dense flurry of combinations. Takuma blocked, dodged, and countered wherever he could but it was clear that he was being pushed back.
'He's a melee fighter,' Takuma deduced. He looked up at Masumoto with a smile, and his heart spiked for a beat when he recognized the look on Masumoto's face.
The dull brown eyes were looking at him—really looking at him.
Takuma wasn't the only one observing and making deductions.
Takuma dug his feet into the dirt, his soles skidding on the slippery grass before he could find his feet. He took a stand and turned up the aggression. Takuma used what he noticed and drove a heavy straight into Masumoto's side followed by a few more solid strikes, but he left himself open to a barrage of kicks that left his lower half throbbing painfully.
Both sides got in satisfying hits as the tactics switched up. Takuma snaked his hands around and under Masumoto's guard and grabbed him by his clothes, tossed him to the ground over his shoulder with a grunt of effort.. He raised his right fist and his chakra flooded the pathways in his arm, and slammed it down.
Masumoto winced when he hit the ground but gathered his focus in time to see the throbbing vein on Takuma's forehead and the raised fist capturing the sun behind it. Danger. He slapped away Takuma's other hand—the one pinning him to the ground—and rolled to the side, using the momentum to continue rolling. The earth exploded and from as far as he was, he felt the ground sink and shudder as he was showered.
Takuma growled as pulled his arm out of the soft ground.
He noticed Masumoto's dirt-covered face staring at the crater he had just created. Their eyes met, and they sprang into action again. Masumoto, on all fours, turned his back to Takuma and tried to pull away. Takuma leapt forward, grabbed a leg, and dragged his opponent back. Masumoto turned again, now facing Takuma; he kicked him, digging his heel into his shoulder. Takuma's face twitched with pain, but he didn't let go and gave a sharp tug to yank Masumoto closer.
He was going to cave Masumoto's chest in with an augmented stomp if it was the last thing he did.
Three shuriken headed for Takuma's face but he raised an arm and hissed painfully when they dug into his upper arm. Masumoto laughed at Takuma's painful grunts as he pulled away, having secured the time and space he needed to get back to his feet.
As Takuma pulled the shuriken from his arm, Masumoto weaved through several hand seals.
Takuma jumped back and did the same, ignoring the twitch his punctured arm gave.
Fire-Style: Twin Tiger's Fury
Water-Style: Eight Tentacles
Starting from his fists, Masumoto's arms were engulfed in fiery flames up to halfway above his elbow. The pooling fire made Masumoto's fists look thrice their actual size. Each time he flexed, the fires expanded, burning hotter.
"I'm hungry; let's do some cooking, boy," Masumoto said as he cracked his neck.
The water in the field rose and collected behind Takuma. With a flex of his shoulder blades, eight whole tentacles shot out from behind his back. Each of them moved like they were alive. Takuma dipped into the pack around his thigh and threw four kunai that were then snatched up from the air by four tentacles.
"I won't trust you to boil water properly. It'd probably be lukewarm… like you," said Takuma.
Masumoto chuckled with a smile that didn't reach his eyes before dashing toward him. Takuma responded in kind and rushed forward as well. Masumoto pulled one of his arms back and punched a jet of fire toward Takuma. It roared as it blasted out of his hands. The water tentacles writhed into action, forming a protective umbrella in front of Takuma.
Despite its usefulness, Eight Tentacles wasn't a defensive jutsu and while it managed to block out the flames, he felt the intense heat wash over him as though he was standing in front of a furnace.
The water began to boil—and even steam to Takuma's surprise.
Wasn't water supposed to have an advantage over fire? Takuma jumped away, but Masumoto didn't release the pressure, pursuing Takuma and blasting him with consecutive fire jets with incredible reach. Takuma tried his best, but Masumoto was just as fast as he was, and any difference in speed between them was easily made up for by the extended reach that accursed fire jutsu provided.
The heat stung, and Takuma was dripping with sweat. He tried to whip Masumoto with the tentacles in hopes of extinguishing the flames, but they would replenish and lick angrily against his tentacles. Takuma quickly realized he needed to douse all or most of the fire to break the jutsu. The tentacles had already nearly halved in length and he knew they wouldn't last long, and he couldn't go in close to knock Masumoto out because of the harsh flames.
"Is this hot enough for you?" Masumoto laughed and punched forth, and Takuma had to pull off his tentacles in front of him to block the fire that was the same size as his body.
Takuma didn't reply and jumped up high into the sky. The ground cracked under the force of his chakra, pushing him high enough to see the camp stretching across the field. Masumoto was directly below him, his arms still shrouded in fire. The tentacles moved before Takuma, hiding him from Masumoto's view. Behind the tentacles, Takuma weaved hand seals for Water Release: Wild Water Wave. As Takuma descended, the tentacles moved aside, and Takuma poured down a furious flood on Masumoto, who failed to dodge it in time.
The fire jutsu broke, and Masumoto was drenched from head to toe. His hair was flat against forehead and Takuma laughed, the sight reminding him of a wet dog. The pressure of the jutsu, acting with gravity, weighed down on Masumoto, forcing him to kneel and then lie flat against the ground. Even though it didn't have high offensive power, Wild Water Wave was still a C-rank jutsu.
Takuma landed and two half-length tentacles dropped their kunai into his hands. He launched both forwards; one nicked Masumoto's shoulder but he caught the other. He rose shakily and stumbled back when Takuma charged at him. It was clear that he was still feeling the battery from the Wild Water Wave. He threw the kunai back at Takuma, but it was so weak that Takuma didn't even think of slowing down when he stepped out of its way.
Takuma pushed off his back leg and swung his fist wide as he dropped over Masumoto. The augmented force hit Masumoto's forearms, blowing him away—he rolled like a tumbleweed in the high wind. Takuma could feel that this was his chance to pull the victory into his court and gave chase. He covered ground in one long leap, and jumped up high to then descend right over Masumoto, intending to re-do the augmented stomp he had missed—but this time with both of his feet.
Masumoto's arms trembled from the force of Takuma's blows and his face was flushed beet-red with pain. He saw Takuma coming down on him once again and rolled away at the last moment. A crater thrice the size of the previous one marred the earth.
Takuma was irritated that he missed again but Masumoto was close this time and he didn't intended to miss a third time. His fist grew hot at the amount of chakra flowing through it and he brought it down.. Masumoto, who was struggling to get up from the ground, suddenly lashed his arm towards him.
Takuma saw a fistful of dirt headed for his face and squeezed his eyes shut.
His heart sank when he opened his eyes to see Masumoto up and in a solid ready stance.. His arms were still trembling, but everything else looked perfectly fine. Strangely, he held a kunai between his teeth.
Takuma realized what had happened because he had done it before.
The next moment, he felt a foot smash into his knee from the side, destroying his balance and forcing him to kneel awkwardly. Takuma wanted to laugh because of how familiar it felt. He had fallen into a trap. Masumoto had first pretended to be hurt, then took real damage from his augmented diving punch to sell it, and lured Takuma in to have a possibility for a dirty sneak attack.
Masumoto weaved hand seals before grabbing the kunai in his mouth. The metal sizzled before the blade turned a glowing red with wisps of flames burning on the surface. He brought down the scorching kunai down at Takuma's outstretched thigh.
Takuma was forced into a vulnerable position, but he wasn't defenseless. He gritted his teeth and stopped the kunai with both his hands. The kunai didn't cut him, but the ninjutsu burned the skin and flesh of his hand.
Masumoto had a sadistic smile as Takuma screamed in his face.
"Hot enough?" Masumoto said, eerily calm.
Masumoto didn't try to force the kunai as his arms were still recovering from Takuma's augmented hit. He released the kunai, and so did Takuma, who truly realized that he was back to fighting a real Ring fighter when Masumoto struck him in the throat.
Takuma felt his ability to breathe to go away—but he didn't panic.
It had been a while, but he was a Ring fighter too.
Masumoto performed a spinning sidekick and smashed it into Takuma's jaw. Takuma swayed dangerously and the world felt like one massive marshmallow beneath his feet. Masumoto pulled out a kunai and went in to gut him. Takuma moved his hand in kunai's way at the last moment to successfully save his stomach.
"Respect, brother," said Masumoto, sounding strangely genuine about it, "but this is the end."
The last thing Masumoto saw before he blacked out for a moment was the crazed look on Takuma's face before he headbutted him in the face and he sagged to the ground. When he came to after a couple of seconds, Masumoto felt a world of pain and disorientation so extreme that he instantly vomited. His nose was broken, he had orbital fractures, his lips was split—his face was just one bleeding mess.
All of that was from a single headbutt.
Out of pure instinct, Takuma's chakra rushed to augment his forehead—it was the first augmented headbutt of his life.
Takuma completely ignored it and put some distance between him and Masumoto despite seeing the state of his opponent. He needed a moment to get his head and balance straight and knew a Ring fighter of Bishop's level wouldn't go down so easily.
He looked down at the kunai-shaped burn wound branding his hands. His palms flared at the slightest movement. He clenched his fists. The more pain he felt, the clearer his head became.
He looked back at Masumoto; the man stood up and stared Takuma down as he snapped his dislocated jaw back into place. Even his messed-up face couldn't hide the anger he was feeling.
Weaving hands seals hurt, but Takuma did it without letting it show on his face.
Water Style: Water Clone Jutsu
The water rose from the wet ground, forming a moist mass that took the shape of Takuma's body contours, morphing into a perfect clone of himself.
"Scars," said Takuma, assigning the role to himself.
"Takuma," said the clone, doing the same.
If one of him was having a difficult time ending the fight then this ought to solve that problem.
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CH_6.44 (215)
Fiction
Feel free to ask me questions.
Toridasu looked between the two fighters, and the speed of his fan grew slower as the fight progressed. Most direct confrontations involving shinobi were short affairs of a few minutes until one party was defeated, or the fight broke up because one party decided to escape. Other real-life factors changed those time observations, but the median range of durations was consistently short.
Seeing Masumoto unable to wrap up the fight quickly told Toridasu that he had underestimated Takuma's combat ability. The injuries on Masumoto were proof of his misjudgment. He had expected Takuma to take on a beating for provoking a chunin, but Masumoto's state was out of his expectations.
He glanced at Anko, who was occupied with the fight. "It seems you won't get to fight Masumoto," he said.
"Aww, I was looking forward to playing with him. Look how angry he is; it would've made my week," Anko snorted with faux amusement but her worry for her genin slipped between the curtain of her sarcasm. She eyed Toridasu with a look. "You better not stop me from interfering in case of an incident… I will protect my team."
"You underestimate him," Toridasu said, watching the water clone form beside Takuma.
"I know Takuma well enough. Masumoto is the one I don't trust. I can tell he's the petty kind; they can be particularly nasty fellows." Anko looked directly at Toridasu as she said the words.
Toridasu found the veiled insult equal parts amusing and adorable.
"Why do you think he's doing this? Is it simply for something lowly like revenge? You must've signed off on this," Toridasu asked.
"He's doing this for you," said Anko, surprising Toridasu with her answer.
"…For me? Pardon me but I didn't ask for this."
"Didn't you though? I asked you to put Team-9 on the precursor mission but you made it clear we weren't getting it when you gave Takuma a dressing down in front of Shirakumo. He blames himself and wants to make it up to the team."
"He went behind our backs."
"Net profit."
Toridasu disagreed with that but couldn't say that he was hoping to exploit their allied nation by having them fork over a portion of the extracted gold from the mines. They still would have recaptured the Gojiro Gold Mines for the Hidden Steam, but they would've done so with some demands. Toridasu would've spun a political web for that to happen—but when Benzou brought them the plans for recapture— and destruction—of the mines, it was after he had consulted with the powers at home. Toridasu was completely cut off and didn't even get the chance to convince them to keep the mines running, much less put pressure on the Hidden Steam and the Land of Hot Water.
Anko continued, "This is a showcase for you that Team-9 has two members with a field combat chunin's fighting ability." — Anko wasn't a field combat chunin with her specialty residing in information extraction, but the Snake's student was anything but not deadly. While not tested, Anko was among the strongest chunin in Camp Banana. — "He's making a case for you to consider, appealing that you set aside your personal feelings and appoint the best team for the mission. We didn't lose any members in Gojiro Gold Mines operations, we are equipped to gather intel out there for the subsequent recapture mission, and we obviously have enough firepower."
Toridasu tapped the bottom of his chin with his closed fan and shook his head.
"I'm sorry but this just looks like a child's petty revenge to me."
"People can have multiple intentions, sir. I mean, who doesn't?"
Toridasu watched as Takuma and his clone cornered Masumoto like it was a street-side brawl.
"I still don't think I will give it to you. I didn't like the Snake very much."
"And you think I love him, sir?" Anko scoffed. "Madmen like him hurt the people closest to them the most," she said in a quieter voice. She took in a deep breath and audibly exhaled. "And I don't care if you give the mission to me, sir. I don't care anymore—about your misplaced grudge or the mission."
"Is that so?" Toridasu smiled, calling her bluff.
"It is. You just told me I have a new job waiting for me back home in the T&I department." Anko smiled refreshingly at him. "You just made my day, sir, and for that, I thank you. I'll treat you to a meal when we return home. I know a killer corner joint that serves sweet bean soup and dango to die for."
"I prefer my food to be spicy."
Anko laughed. "No wonder we don't get along."
———
.
"Scars."
"Takuma."
Takuma and Clone stood next to each other and communicated their role to each other. Clone only had ten percent of Takuma's chakra and was a level inferior in terms of physical capabilities—but other than that, they were completely identical.
Water Style: Eight Tentacles
The water tentacles formed behind their backs.
Opposite them, Masumoto breathed out a jet of fire that fanned back to form a ring around him before splitting into nine orbs. The orbs split into two different orbits that crossed each other, forming an X-shape.
Fire Release: Fox Fire
"He's quick, but he doesn't like to move around, so we have to be on the move," said Clone.
Takuma eyed the fire orbs rotating around Masumoto and felt that they were rather similar to his water tentacles. He wasn't familiar with the jutsu, but he could guess that the fire orbs had considerable range and speed, and that any contact with them would burn harshly.
"Allocate half of the tentacles for defensive purposes," Takuma said to Clone.
Clone scoffed. "I should be saying that. You're Scars."
"Let's go."
Takuma and Clone were on the move. They went into diverging directions with the intention to flank Masumoto from either side in a pincer movement.
Masumoto's eyes moved between Takuma and Clone. He assumed a stance, and the moment they were close enough, the fire orbs broke from their stable orbital movements and flew erratically. Six orbs shot toward Takuma while Masumoto took three orbs with him and charged Clone. The tentacles behind Clone jolted into action. One whipped the first fire orb away from Clone. Three tentacles tried to envelop the second orb in an attempt to extinguish it, but the third orb pushed the trapped second orb. The second orb was smaller with the tentacles having done some damage, but it drew closer to the third orb, and in a moment, swelled back to its previous size and intensity.
Clone made a note of it and clashed with Masumoto.
There were no quips exchanged as the two fought. Masumoto was more aggressive and the Ring influence showed in his style—his body shots looked for the liver and kidney, frequent kicks were aimed at the joints to disrupt the balance and take out the base, and he was more than willing to trade damage for opportunities to inflict more and worse pain.
He noted that this must be what others felt when they fought him. The fire orbs acted like extra arms, just like his water tentacles did and Masumoto used them viciously, targeting his face to damage his eyes and ears. Clone felt the heat near his face—but the water tentacles kept the fire orbs away.
Clone, like an ice skater on the rink, was constantly on the move as he targeted Masumoto from both sides. Masumoto was quick, but he wasn't light on his feet. Clone exerted himself to jump around and push his speed even further, turning the pressure so Masumoto would make a mistake.
He was on the hunt for a counter opportunity.
Alas, Clone was slower than Takuma and Masumoto was difficult to pressure. Less than ten seconds after their clash, Clone pulled back away from Masumoto.
Masumoto wasn't confused and immediately turned and pulled up a block. Takuma smashed a devastating augmented cross into his arms. Masumoto held his ground but was forced to skid several meters back. He growled in pain as he flexed his arms to stop them from trembling.
Clone shot back in from behind with a flying augmented kick to Masumoto's head that his opponent parried and redirected skillfully. When his feet landed on the ground, Clone jumped again for a spinning kick.
Masumoto tried to pull back, but five of Takuma's tentacles wrapped around him from behind, holding him in place. Clone slammed the kick into his shoulder and he jerked, still trapped within the water tentacles. Clone tried to convert his one hit into a chain combination—but three orbs shot toward him in quick succession, all blocked by the three remaining water tentacles.The other five slipped off Masumoto as Clone was sent flying —the fire orbs were heavy as cannon balls.
As Takuma stepped from behind to stab Masumoto in the back, another orb rushed toward him. The tentacles moved to intercept it, but it pulsed dangerously and exploded.
Takuma's body spun through the air; the tentacles plunged into the ground, slowing him down. Takuma rose unsteadily as the tentacles snaked around his body to cool the burns. He gazed at Masumoto. The man was rolling on the ground, putting out the fire from his own explosion. His clothes were ruined, and the skin on his back was charred and angry.
"Fuck," Takuma touched behind his ringing left ear. He raised his left hand to his right shoulder and snapped the dislocated shoulder back into his place with a wince.
It didn't surprise Takuma that Masumoto was willing to trade damage, but not to this degree. It was something the Ring did to its fighters—genin who walked out of the Ring were much more willing to trade injuries, a dangerous habit to fall into on the field. Takuma was trying to hammer down that same instinct to this day and assumed that Masumoto, who had retired by the time he became Scars, would've done the same.
Has he not done so yet, or is Masumoto taking greater risk on purpose, Takuma wondered—if it was the latter, then why?
Takuma exchanged glances with Clone, and both ran toward Masumoto again in a pincer movement. Masumoto was breathing heavily on his knees. The remaining fire orbs mobilized, and a pair whizzed towards each of them.
Takuma tried to dance around the fire orbs, but now that he knew they could explode, he kept his distance and was always ready to jump away at the moment's notice.
Clone, on the other hand, decided to experiment; he ran around looking like he was trying to get past the fire orbs. He came very near the fire orb before jumping away to a dead still. The fire orb bobbed after him but halted halfway.
Clone looked at Masumoto, who was now frowning.
He grinned before yelling, "Ten to twelve meters!"
Takuma jumped backward until he was more than twelve meters away from Masumoto and immediately weaved hand seals.
Water Release: Wild Water Wave
Takuma had purposefully overcharged the jutsu. It had double the range and the water retained much of its damaging pressure. The jutsu barreled toward Masumoto, who was clearly injured as he was still kneeling.
Two fire orbs shot towards the wave of water and exploded, neutralizing the ninjutsu. A light splash of water washed over Masumoto, leaving him drenched. Masumoto finally got up, and the six remaining fire orbs pulled back closer to him.
He started, "You think you're—"
Ding!
Masumoto froze up with a jolt. He groaned in agony as a harsh sound pierced his ear, and he began to see clones of Takuma pop around the field.
One of Clone's tentacles was holding a scuffed bell.
Genjutsu: Bell Clone Jutsu
Takuma immediately took off toward Masumoto. Just when he thought he had a freeway, the nearest fire orbs moved, giving him a scare. He looked at Masumoto, who was still frozen up from the genjutsu. Then he noticed that the fire orb was moving erratically and much slower. It seemed that genjutsu only froze up the body, and the mind was affected, but not completely.
He learned more every day.
Takuma clicked his tongue and jumped away just a moment before the fire orb nearest to him suddenly exploded.
"He's free," Clone shouted.
Masumoto shook his head, trying to shake off any lingering effects. It was unclear if exploding the fire orb snapped him out of the genjutsu or if he exploded the orb after he snapped out of it. He turned a glare towards Clone, sending two fire orbs chasing after him.
Clone put himself far outside of the fire orb's range and was thinking about baiting Masumoto by stepping in and out of the range and occupying his attention so that Takuma could breach and get close to him. During that thought, one of the fire orbs struck the second from behind a moment before exploding. The second orb absorbed the explosion, growing bigger, and shot beyond its tracking range toward Clone..
He thought he was safe as long as he was outside the range, and the sudden collapse of that logical conclusion made him freeze up. He watched it pulse and grow brighter like all the other orbs did before exploding. A split second later, Clone snapped into action and punched out toward the orb just as it was less than a meter away from him.
Chakra Augmentation: Second Form
The chakra bubbling inside Clone's arm traveled to the front of his fist and then shot out in a directed beam of concentrated chakra that struck the fire orb before it could hit Clone. It wasn't as powerful as the usual augmented strike and took more chakra to perform, but it added extra range to his melee attack.
The fire orb, heavy as a cannonball, being propelled by an explosion much like a cannon, had an overwhelming force behind it—and for a moment, it looked like the second form punch failed to stop the bull run, but then it was smashed away into the air a moment before it exploded. Clone pulled his arms up in protection with a pleased grin. He felt the heat but little of the explosive force. It was the first time the second form punch was used in battle, and it was a success even though he had yet to test it in spars.
On Masumoto's side, he looked up to see a flurry of kunai and shuriken tearing in his direction. He narrowed his eyes and caught explosive tags fluttering behind a few kunai mixed in with the bunch. He sighed, and with a flick of his wrist, three of the remaining four orbs met the weapons in mid-air. They exploded and the barrage of projectiles was blown away in all directions. Metal shards and broken hilts clattered across the field.
Masumoto looked ahead and found Takuma missing. His pupils shrunk, and goosebumps erupted across his bare skin. He turned around and felt the ground beneath him shift. Takuma broke through a crack in the ground. The last remaining fire orb flew toward Takuma, who punched out with a weaker second form augmentation and sent it a few meters away.
Takuma slashed Masumoto across the chest with the kunai in his other hand. Blood spattered over his face as Masumoto stumbled back. Takuma struck with his kunai again, but Masumoto grabbed the blade, cutting the inside of his hand. He muffled his grunt and kicked Takuma's legs from under him, followed by a stomp to his chest, pinning him to the ground. The fire orb rushed in from the side, and Masumoto jumped away. Takuma saw the orb glowing brighter; he couldn't get up to run in time, so he took the next option of weaving hand seals for Earth Style: Earthen Dome. He knew the jutsu wouldn't make it time, but it was his only option.
Just as the orb expanded, a second away from blowing up, Clone came flying in. He enveloped his body around the orb the moment it exploded. Clone blew up into a mass of water, and in his last moment, his body blocked the explosion that would've hit Takuma. While the fire hadn't touched him, the force of the explosion sent him flying and he smashed his elbow against the ground..
His vision swam. He spat out the blood pooling in his mouth as he got up and fixed his gaze toward the blurred figure he assumed to be Masumoto. As his vision settled, Takuma saw Masumoto weave hand seals, the gash on his hand dripping with blood.
A layer of visible blue chakra covered Masumoto's body. Takuma looked closer and saw the air around Masumoto's body shimmering with sheer heat. The grass around Masumoto's feet burned, turning black with embers.
"Takuma!" Anko yelled from the sidelines. "That's a B-rank ninjutsu— be careful!"
Masumoto threw his head back, flexed his entire body, and yelled to the sky.
The chakra layer sparked and surged into a blazing fire, surrounding him like a scorching aura, trying to burn everything and anything within its reach. Steam rose from the ground around Masumoto, the moisture being burned, and within a couple of seconds, he was standing in a smoldering ring.
A fresh coat of sweat erupted across Takuma's body, running down his face and evaporating before it ever hit the ground.
A hundred thoughts flashed across his mind as he ran simulations on how the fight would go.
The result was the same every single time: he couldn't win—not against this.
Want to read ahead of schedule? Head over to Patreón [fictiononlyreader]. Link here and in signature.
Note: All the chapters will eventually be posted on public forums.
Seeing Masumoto unable to wrap up the fight quickly told Toridasu that he had underestimated Takuma's combat ability. The injuries on Masumoto were proof of his misjudgment. He had expected Takuma to take on a beating for provoking a chunin, but Masumoto's state was out of his expectations.
He glanced at Anko, who was occupied with the fight. "It seems you won't get to fight Masumoto," he said.
"Aww, I was looking forward to playing with him. Look how angry he is; it would've made my week," Anko snorted with faux amusement but her worry for her genin slipped between the curtain of her sarcasm. She eyed Toridasu with a look. "You better not stop me from interfering in case of an incident… I will protect my team."
"You underestimate him," Toridasu said, watching the water clone form beside Takuma.
"I know Takuma well enough. Masumoto is the one I don't trust. I can tell he's the petty kind; they can be particularly nasty fellows." Anko looked directly at Toridasu as she said the words.
Toridasu found the veiled insult equal parts amusing and adorable.
"Why do you think he's doing this? Is it simply for something lowly like revenge? You must've signed off on this," Toridasu asked.
"He's doing this for you," said Anko, surprising Toridasu with her answer.
"…For me? Pardon me but I didn't ask for this."
"Didn't you though? I asked you to put Team-9 on the precursor mission but you made it clear we weren't getting it when you gave Takuma a dressing down in front of Shirakumo. He blames himself and wants to make it up to the team."
"He went behind our backs."
"Net profit."
Toridasu disagreed with that but couldn't say that he was hoping to exploit their allied nation by having them fork over a portion of the extracted gold from the mines. They still would have recaptured the Gojiro Gold Mines for the Hidden Steam, but they would've done so with some demands. Toridasu would've spun a political web for that to happen—but when Benzou brought them the plans for recapture— and destruction—of the mines, it was after he had consulted with the powers at home. Toridasu was completely cut off and didn't even get the chance to convince them to keep the mines running, much less put pressure on the Hidden Steam and the Land of Hot Water.
Anko continued, "This is a showcase for you that Team-9 has two members with a field combat chunin's fighting ability." — Anko wasn't a field combat chunin with her specialty residing in information extraction, but the Snake's student was anything but not deadly. While not tested, Anko was among the strongest chunin in Camp Banana. — "He's making a case for you to consider, appealing that you set aside your personal feelings and appoint the best team for the mission. We didn't lose any members in Gojiro Gold Mines operations, we are equipped to gather intel out there for the subsequent recapture mission, and we obviously have enough firepower."
Toridasu tapped the bottom of his chin with his closed fan and shook his head.
"I'm sorry but this just looks like a child's petty revenge to me."
"People can have multiple intentions, sir. I mean, who doesn't?"
Toridasu watched as Takuma and his clone cornered Masumoto like it was a street-side brawl.
"I still don't think I will give it to you. I didn't like the Snake very much."
"And you think I love him, sir?" Anko scoffed. "Madmen like him hurt the people closest to them the most," she said in a quieter voice. She took in a deep breath and audibly exhaled. "And I don't care if you give the mission to me, sir. I don't care anymore—about your misplaced grudge or the mission."
"Is that so?" Toridasu smiled, calling her bluff.
"It is. You just told me I have a new job waiting for me back home in the T&I department." Anko smiled refreshingly at him. "You just made my day, sir, and for that, I thank you. I'll treat you to a meal when we return home. I know a killer corner joint that serves sweet bean soup and dango to die for."
"I prefer my food to be spicy."
Anko laughed. "No wonder we don't get along."
———
.
"Scars."
"Takuma."
Takuma and Clone stood next to each other and communicated their role to each other. Clone only had ten percent of Takuma's chakra and was a level inferior in terms of physical capabilities—but other than that, they were completely identical.
Water Style: Eight Tentacles
The water tentacles formed behind their backs.
Opposite them, Masumoto breathed out a jet of fire that fanned back to form a ring around him before splitting into nine orbs. The orbs split into two different orbits that crossed each other, forming an X-shape.
Fire Release: Fox Fire
"He's quick, but he doesn't like to move around, so we have to be on the move," said Clone.
Takuma eyed the fire orbs rotating around Masumoto and felt that they were rather similar to his water tentacles. He wasn't familiar with the jutsu, but he could guess that the fire orbs had considerable range and speed, and that any contact with them would burn harshly.
"Allocate half of the tentacles for defensive purposes," Takuma said to Clone.
Clone scoffed. "I should be saying that. You're Scars."
"Let's go."
Takuma and Clone were on the move. They went into diverging directions with the intention to flank Masumoto from either side in a pincer movement.
Masumoto's eyes moved between Takuma and Clone. He assumed a stance, and the moment they were close enough, the fire orbs broke from their stable orbital movements and flew erratically. Six orbs shot toward Takuma while Masumoto took three orbs with him and charged Clone. The tentacles behind Clone jolted into action. One whipped the first fire orb away from Clone. Three tentacles tried to envelop the second orb in an attempt to extinguish it, but the third orb pushed the trapped second orb. The second orb was smaller with the tentacles having done some damage, but it drew closer to the third orb, and in a moment, swelled back to its previous size and intensity.
Clone made a note of it and clashed with Masumoto.
There were no quips exchanged as the two fought. Masumoto was more aggressive and the Ring influence showed in his style—his body shots looked for the liver and kidney, frequent kicks were aimed at the joints to disrupt the balance and take out the base, and he was more than willing to trade damage for opportunities to inflict more and worse pain.
He noted that this must be what others felt when they fought him. The fire orbs acted like extra arms, just like his water tentacles did and Masumoto used them viciously, targeting his face to damage his eyes and ears. Clone felt the heat near his face—but the water tentacles kept the fire orbs away.
Clone, like an ice skater on the rink, was constantly on the move as he targeted Masumoto from both sides. Masumoto was quick, but he wasn't light on his feet. Clone exerted himself to jump around and push his speed even further, turning the pressure so Masumoto would make a mistake.
He was on the hunt for a counter opportunity.
Alas, Clone was slower than Takuma and Masumoto was difficult to pressure. Less than ten seconds after their clash, Clone pulled back away from Masumoto.
Masumoto wasn't confused and immediately turned and pulled up a block. Takuma smashed a devastating augmented cross into his arms. Masumoto held his ground but was forced to skid several meters back. He growled in pain as he flexed his arms to stop them from trembling.
Clone shot back in from behind with a flying augmented kick to Masumoto's head that his opponent parried and redirected skillfully. When his feet landed on the ground, Clone jumped again for a spinning kick.
Masumoto tried to pull back, but five of Takuma's tentacles wrapped around him from behind, holding him in place. Clone slammed the kick into his shoulder and he jerked, still trapped within the water tentacles. Clone tried to convert his one hit into a chain combination—but three orbs shot toward him in quick succession, all blocked by the three remaining water tentacles.The other five slipped off Masumoto as Clone was sent flying —the fire orbs were heavy as cannon balls.
As Takuma stepped from behind to stab Masumoto in the back, another orb rushed toward him. The tentacles moved to intercept it, but it pulsed dangerously and exploded.
Takuma's body spun through the air; the tentacles plunged into the ground, slowing him down. Takuma rose unsteadily as the tentacles snaked around his body to cool the burns. He gazed at Masumoto. The man was rolling on the ground, putting out the fire from his own explosion. His clothes were ruined, and the skin on his back was charred and angry.
"Fuck," Takuma touched behind his ringing left ear. He raised his left hand to his right shoulder and snapped the dislocated shoulder back into his place with a wince.
It didn't surprise Takuma that Masumoto was willing to trade damage, but not to this degree. It was something the Ring did to its fighters—genin who walked out of the Ring were much more willing to trade injuries, a dangerous habit to fall into on the field. Takuma was trying to hammer down that same instinct to this day and assumed that Masumoto, who had retired by the time he became Scars, would've done the same.
Has he not done so yet, or is Masumoto taking greater risk on purpose, Takuma wondered—if it was the latter, then why?
Takuma exchanged glances with Clone, and both ran toward Masumoto again in a pincer movement. Masumoto was breathing heavily on his knees. The remaining fire orbs mobilized, and a pair whizzed towards each of them.
Takuma tried to dance around the fire orbs, but now that he knew they could explode, he kept his distance and was always ready to jump away at the moment's notice.
Clone, on the other hand, decided to experiment; he ran around looking like he was trying to get past the fire orbs. He came very near the fire orb before jumping away to a dead still. The fire orb bobbed after him but halted halfway.
Clone looked at Masumoto, who was now frowning.
He grinned before yelling, "Ten to twelve meters!"
Takuma jumped backward until he was more than twelve meters away from Masumoto and immediately weaved hand seals.
Water Release: Wild Water Wave
Takuma had purposefully overcharged the jutsu. It had double the range and the water retained much of its damaging pressure. The jutsu barreled toward Masumoto, who was clearly injured as he was still kneeling.
Two fire orbs shot towards the wave of water and exploded, neutralizing the ninjutsu. A light splash of water washed over Masumoto, leaving him drenched. Masumoto finally got up, and the six remaining fire orbs pulled back closer to him.
He started, "You think you're—"
Ding!
Masumoto froze up with a jolt. He groaned in agony as a harsh sound pierced his ear, and he began to see clones of Takuma pop around the field.
One of Clone's tentacles was holding a scuffed bell.
Genjutsu: Bell Clone Jutsu
Takuma immediately took off toward Masumoto. Just when he thought he had a freeway, the nearest fire orbs moved, giving him a scare. He looked at Masumoto, who was still frozen up from the genjutsu. Then he noticed that the fire orb was moving erratically and much slower. It seemed that genjutsu only froze up the body, and the mind was affected, but not completely.
He learned more every day.
Takuma clicked his tongue and jumped away just a moment before the fire orb nearest to him suddenly exploded.
"He's free," Clone shouted.
Masumoto shook his head, trying to shake off any lingering effects. It was unclear if exploding the fire orb snapped him out of the genjutsu or if he exploded the orb after he snapped out of it. He turned a glare towards Clone, sending two fire orbs chasing after him.
Clone put himself far outside of the fire orb's range and was thinking about baiting Masumoto by stepping in and out of the range and occupying his attention so that Takuma could breach and get close to him. During that thought, one of the fire orbs struck the second from behind a moment before exploding. The second orb absorbed the explosion, growing bigger, and shot beyond its tracking range toward Clone..
He thought he was safe as long as he was outside the range, and the sudden collapse of that logical conclusion made him freeze up. He watched it pulse and grow brighter like all the other orbs did before exploding. A split second later, Clone snapped into action and punched out toward the orb just as it was less than a meter away from him.
Chakra Augmentation: Second Form
The chakra bubbling inside Clone's arm traveled to the front of his fist and then shot out in a directed beam of concentrated chakra that struck the fire orb before it could hit Clone. It wasn't as powerful as the usual augmented strike and took more chakra to perform, but it added extra range to his melee attack.
The fire orb, heavy as a cannonball, being propelled by an explosion much like a cannon, had an overwhelming force behind it—and for a moment, it looked like the second form punch failed to stop the bull run, but then it was smashed away into the air a moment before it exploded. Clone pulled his arms up in protection with a pleased grin. He felt the heat but little of the explosive force. It was the first time the second form punch was used in battle, and it was a success even though he had yet to test it in spars.
On Masumoto's side, he looked up to see a flurry of kunai and shuriken tearing in his direction. He narrowed his eyes and caught explosive tags fluttering behind a few kunai mixed in with the bunch. He sighed, and with a flick of his wrist, three of the remaining four orbs met the weapons in mid-air. They exploded and the barrage of projectiles was blown away in all directions. Metal shards and broken hilts clattered across the field.
Masumoto looked ahead and found Takuma missing. His pupils shrunk, and goosebumps erupted across his bare skin. He turned around and felt the ground beneath him shift. Takuma broke through a crack in the ground. The last remaining fire orb flew toward Takuma, who punched out with a weaker second form augmentation and sent it a few meters away.
Takuma slashed Masumoto across the chest with the kunai in his other hand. Blood spattered over his face as Masumoto stumbled back. Takuma struck with his kunai again, but Masumoto grabbed the blade, cutting the inside of his hand. He muffled his grunt and kicked Takuma's legs from under him, followed by a stomp to his chest, pinning him to the ground. The fire orb rushed in from the side, and Masumoto jumped away. Takuma saw the orb glowing brighter; he couldn't get up to run in time, so he took the next option of weaving hand seals for Earth Style: Earthen Dome. He knew the jutsu wouldn't make it time, but it was his only option.
Just as the orb expanded, a second away from blowing up, Clone came flying in. He enveloped his body around the orb the moment it exploded. Clone blew up into a mass of water, and in his last moment, his body blocked the explosion that would've hit Takuma. While the fire hadn't touched him, the force of the explosion sent him flying and he smashed his elbow against the ground..
His vision swam. He spat out the blood pooling in his mouth as he got up and fixed his gaze toward the blurred figure he assumed to be Masumoto. As his vision settled, Takuma saw Masumoto weave hand seals, the gash on his hand dripping with blood.
A layer of visible blue chakra covered Masumoto's body. Takuma looked closer and saw the air around Masumoto's body shimmering with sheer heat. The grass around Masumoto's feet burned, turning black with embers.
"Takuma!" Anko yelled from the sidelines. "That's a B-rank ninjutsu— be careful!"
Masumoto threw his head back, flexed his entire body, and yelled to the sky.
The chakra layer sparked and surged into a blazing fire, surrounding him like a scorching aura, trying to burn everything and anything within its reach. Steam rose from the ground around Masumoto, the moisture being burned, and within a couple of seconds, he was standing in a smoldering ring.
A fresh coat of sweat erupted across Takuma's body, running down his face and evaporating before it ever hit the ground.
A hundred thoughts flashed across his mind as he ran simulations on how the fight would go.
The result was the same every single time: he couldn't win—not against this.
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- Location
- USA
Thanks for the chapters!
Toridasu is a little shit. Hate guys like that
Toridasu is a little shit. Hate guys like that
I still believe that even if he doesn't win. He will make sure that both of them lose.
MrRobot
In doubt there's always the Sun!
Takuma's existence is suffering, but he is more than ready to make everyone else's problem.