CH_6.45 (216)

CH_6.45 (216)

Team-9 ran to Anko, worried and apprehensive. Anko herself looked nervous as the waves of heat and chakra washed over her and felt the danger Masumoto posed— she herself felt danger from Masumoto as he was now. She didn’t know if Takuma would be able to defeat him.

“Anko, you should call the fight,” said Iori, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Anko glanced at her team before turning to Toridasu.

She asked, “What is that jutsu?”

Just from the chakra saturated the environment, it was clear that this was a B-rank ninjutsu at the minimum—maybe even higher.

“It’s Fire Style: Chakra Mode, a B-rank ninjutsu of the supplementary category. He’s coating his entire body with a cloak of fire chakra. In theory, the jutsu is fairly simple. The fire incinerates any attack thrown at him, and it allows him to scorch through his enemies with a very potent nintaijutsu.”

A term used to describe fighting styles that incorporate the use of ninjutsu and taijutsu.

“This jutsu has limitless potential. The Raikage uses the lightning version of it, Lightning Style: Chakra Mode—in fact, it’s his signature jutsu. He’s arguably the most powerful shinobi currently alive and his use of that jutsu is heavily responsible for that.” Toridasu looked at her. “Your boy is in danger, Anko. Both of them are close-range melee fighters. And Mausmoto just got an extreme boost to his taijutsu. You might want to listen to your team’s suggestions... call it off,” he said without the usual lightheartedness in his eyes.

Anko turned her gaze back to the fight. Takuma had his raised hand up in front of his face to protect it from the sheer heat, and it looked like he couldn’t even stand properly from the fringe effects of Masumoto’s jutsu.

“Anko!” Iori urged.

Protecting her own was Anko’s responsibility as their leader. In her opinion, Takuma had already proved his value and Team-9’s virtue for the benefit of Toridasu. He didn’t need to prove himself more than he had already shown.

But the truth was that none of it mattered anymore.

“He failed his academy graduation test twice,” Anko said to Toridasu, recalling Takuma’s file, what he told her, and something she heard from Kameko. “He told me that you were there for the third attempt, which he passed—but what’s surprising is that they didn’t give him a chance to get on a jonin team because his grades were piss poor.... They pushed him into the Genin Corp without allowing a jonin to check him.

“I don’t think that boy, who was denied that basic opportunity, and then managed to climb his way to a leadership position in the Uchiha’s den would appreciate anyone telling him what he can or cannot do.”

Anko crossed her arms and returned to the fight, much to the wonder of Toridasu and the astonishment of her team.

Inside, however, she was struggling to convince herself that she’d made the right choice.

———

.

The smoldering heat made Takuma wish he had at least kept his inner vest on. He absently wondered if this was what working in a smelting factory felt like but reined his focus in. It was tough to stay focused right now: he had lost a lot of blood, was dehydrated, and was dealing with dozens of injuries of various seriousness.

“You’re good as dead, kid!” said Masumoto; the flames around his body roared as he pointed at Takuma.

And then there was him.

Takuma took a hot breath and weaved hand seals for the Water Style: Hidden Mist Jutsu to alter the playing field and give him some cover while he spent some time thinking about how to proceed.

He quickly followed with Water Style: Eight Tentacles, grimacing as lances of pain shot up and down his elbow. Two tentacles merged into one and wrapped around his hurt arm to support his injured elbow. He had done it for his out-of-commission leg during the assassination attempt, and luckily for him, his arm wasn’t completely disabled nor did it bear half of his body weight so two tentacles were enough for support. The remaining tentacles covered as much of his body as they could to provide any protection against the oppressive heat.

His ears were damaged, dulling his hearing, and in any other case, he wouldn’t have used the Hidden Mist Jutsu as he relied on his ears to traverse under the fog, but Masumoto had turned himself into a walking light bulb... one that could easily burn him to ashes..a pulled out three shuriken, intending to see if Masumoto’s chakra cover deflected solid metal. He got himself in the position and was about to throw the shuriken when he noticed the visibility improving by the moment, and in just a few seconds, the mist had dissipated, turning increasingly thin.

The tentacle armor didn’t make it out intact from the impact and he had to bear the awful pain from his elbow as he weaved hand seals. He joined his trembling hands together, with only his index and middle finger stretched out to the front, making the colloquial hand gesture for mimicking a gun.

A globe of water formed in front of the finger gun.

Water Release: Spirit Water Wave

“Bang.”

A pressurized water bullet, as wide as his finger, shot out of the water glob. It immediately broke the sound barrier with a sharp snap. Masumoto, who was watching his hand seals and expecting Water Release: Wild Water Wave, didn’t change his path, confident in his chakra cloak’s ability to shrug the ninjutsu away. He froze, caught between the thought of holding confidence in his cloak or jumping out of the way—in the end, he chose to rely on his cloak’s defense.

The bullet penetrated the fire cloak, sliced through his shoulder, tore a chunk of muscle, and shattered his collarbone. Masumoto screamed in agony and dropped to his knees. He shuddered and whimpered in pain as he held his useless shoulder

Takuma took in a deep breath. His head hung for a moment after he saw the water bullet hit his target. Hope filled him as he raised his hand and readied another shot.

“Bang.”

The bullet didn’t fire, and the globe splashed down to the ground. The jutsu failed. Takuma expected that to happen when he fired the first bullet because he had only used the jutsu a few times with great failure during training.

“Come on, come on, come on...” He muttered to himself as he weaved the hands seals for the Water Release: Spirit Water Wave again.

He looked up and saw that Masumoto was back on his feet.

“Bang.”

The moment the water globe formed; Takuma took his shot. But this time, Masumoto was ready for it. He squared his guard and thrust his hands forward; a wall of fire extended from his cloak. The water bullet pierced the wall, but lost most of its speed and power doing so. Still, it left a bruise on Masumoto’s lower thigh, which he shrugged off and continued marching toward Takuma.

The ninjutsu failed again, and Takuma felt helpless. He took out three kunai with explosive tags and chucked them at Masumoto. The fire cloak once again foiled his plans and burned through the tags before they had the chance to explode.

“COME ON, FALL!”

As though responding to Takuma’s frenzied cries, Masumoto’s knees gave out on him, and he fell to the ground. The burning cloak flickered like a weak bonfire on a windy night. Masumoto got up and dragged his feet across the ground to reach Takuma, who wasn’t in the shape to avoid him.

When he was a few meters away, the cloak flickered crazily and went out for good.

“Fuck!” Masumoto cursed but continued to move closer to Takuma until he could no longer do so and sagged to the ground on his knees. He was still conscious but barely, and looked so exhausted that breathing was all he could do.

Takuma, still on his knees, closed his eyes and let his shoulders relax.

He had done it.

He wasn’t able to beat Masumoto, but he won.

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