Naruto: The Outsider’s Resolve

CH_6.41 (212)

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.”