The final match arrived under an oppressive, expectant silence. Every elder, instructor, and student was fixed on the arena. Makima and Minato stood opposite each other, separated by ten meters of packed dirt, their shadows long and sharp in the late afternoon sun.
Kushina, now fully recovered from her own match the day before, sat on the edge of the viewing stands, her heart hammering against her ribs. She was a riot of conflicted emotions, her loyalties screaming in opposite directions.
"Three points to win. Pin, disarmament, or out of bounds," the instructor, Kishou, reiterated. "First to three points wins the tournament. Begin!"
Minato made the first move. He didn't rush; he accelerated. His approach was not a charge but a precise calculation of angles, covering the distance in an unnatural, instantaneous blur. Makima met him, matching his speed perfectly.
Their initial Taijutsu exchange lasted thirty seconds, a sustained explosion of high-fidelity combat that left dust hanging in the air. Makima's technique was devastating. Every punch, block, and kick was delivered with the full, brute force of her Uzumaki vessel, a raw power she had trained herself to channel flawlessly. She was attacking the structure of Minato's defense, aiming to collapse it in a single, overwhelming surge.
Minato, however, was not just fast; he was a master of minimal contact. He didn't block Makima's power strikes head-on; he used razor-sharp shifts and deflections, redirecting her momentum into the ground or harmlessly past his frame. He used the briefest micro-bursts of chakra—a nascent form of the Body Flicker Technique (Shunshin no Jutsu)—to move his center of mass a mere few centimeters out of Makima's target zone, making her perfect strike always land in the perfect vacuum.
Makima's golden eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of cold intellectual fury lighting her gaze. His efficiency is too high. I must force a variable he cannot calculate.
She feigned a high kick, forcing Minato to commit to a low-block, and then, instead of completing the kick, she slammed her heel down. She released a tiny, localized Doton (Earth Release) pulse into the ground. It wasn't an attack; it was a vibration. The subtle shockwave traveled just beneath the surface, upsetting Minato's already precarious stance.
Minato recognized the subtle betrayal of the ground and compensated instantly, leaping back. Makima followed, pressing her advantage, launching a flurry of strikes that forced Minato into retreat towards the boundary line. Makima was closing in, her final strike a powerful backhand aimed at the side of his head, designed to send him tumbling out of bounds.
In the fraction of a second the strike connected, Minato twisted his body, absorbing the blow with his shoulder—a deliberate sacrifice. He used the momentum from Makima's overwhelming force, not to escape, but to slingshot himself laterally, darting low under her guard and forcing her to overextend. Makima, committed to the powerful, decisive knockout blow, found her momentum impossible to halt. She spun, trying to regain balance, but her trailing foot slid a critical few inches over the painted boundary line.
Kishou's flag went up.
Minato - 1 Point (Forcing opponent out of bounds)
Makima stepped back into the ring, her face serene, but her heart was racing with a terrifying, delightful excitement. She had been beaten by a superior tactical sacrifice. Minato was not just resisting her control; he was leveraging it.
Kushina was screaming, tears streaming down her face from the sheer emotional toll. "Minato! You genius! Makima-chan, you almost got her!"
Makima started Round Two with an immediate, overwhelming shift to Ninjutsu and Shurikenjutsu. She couldn't allow Minato to dictate the pace again.
She executed two swift seals: Tora, Saru. "Doton: Renga no Jutsu (Earth Release: Brick Technique)!" Massive, sharp spikes of compressed earth erupted along a line leading directly toward Minato. As he leaped into the air, Makima followed with a rapid, concentrated Fūton (Wind Release) blast, intending to use the air current to throw him into the path of the retreating earth spikes. She was aiming for maximum battlefield saturation.
Minato's response was a revelation in geometry. He did not counter the jutsu; he used them. As the Fūton blast hit him, he used the wind's own force to accelerate his horizontal movement, converting a linear assault into a rapid lateral dodge. While doing this, he threw six kunai in rapid succession. Three were pure distractions aimed at Makima's face. The other three were aimed at static points in the environment: the ground 5 meters to his left, the wooden scaffolding high above the arena, and the trunk of a distant training tree. Minato was establishing anchors and sightlines—a geometric web for future movement.
Makima met his distraction kunai with a quick, single-handed Doton shield. She realized the nature of his scattered attacks: he wasn't attacking her; he was creating a safe zone based on high-speed reference points.
She immediately shifted focus. "Suiton: Mizurappa (Water Release: Wild Water Wave)!" Makima channeled a high-pressure stream of water, aiming not at Minato, but directly at the kunai Minato had lodged in the high scaffolding—the most vital, hard-to-reach anchor. She intended to erase his reference points.
Minato, seeing the water arc toward his high anchor, was forced to commit. He had to defend his environment. In that critical moment of Makima's split attention, Minato darted forward, using a low, arcing trajectory designed to remain below Makima's field of vision. He drew his last two kunai and threw them toward the ground. The first kunai was thrown with a weak deflection, making it appear clumsy. Makima, still tracking the water, dismissed it.
But the second kunai hit the first one's hilt with perfect, absolute timing, creating a rebound effect. The deflected blade shot up, catching Makima's primary throwing pouch—her only remaining cache of shuriken—cleanly, stripping the entire pouch from her waist. The heavy leather pouch tumbled to the ground, scattering blades into the dirt.
Makima stared at her now-empty hip, a slow, predatory smile stretching across her face. She had been outmaneuvered not by speed, but by pre-programmed physics.
Minato - 2 Points (Disarmament)
"Minato-kun is a monster!" Kushina shrieked, clutching her head. "He's too clever! Makima-chan, don't let him do that again!"
Makima stood motionless, her eyes locked on Minato. Two rounds, two losses by technical supremacy. He is perfect. A deep, almost spiritual joy filled her heart. This was the challenge she had craved since her reincarnation—an opponent whose existence forced her to transcend simple control.
With Minato one point from victory, the intensity ratcheted up. Minato, knowing Makima's physical power, adopted a strategy of mobile deflection. He used the last of his energy reserves to perpetually evade Makima, creating clones (a basic Bunshin no Jutsu) to confuse her targeting. Makima recognized this as a stalling tactic to deplete her chakra pool.
She abandoned intricate jutsu. She focused her Uzumaki chakra into a constant, low-level physical amplification, turning herself into an unyielding, high-speed siege engine.
Makima ruthlessly dispatched the clones, not bothering to check which was real. She simply covered the entire arena with a sustained, rapid sequence of kicks and chakra-infused punches, creating a wall of force that Minato had to constantly flee or absorb.
Finally, Minato misjudged a retreat and was pinned against the boundary markers. Makima did not go for a knockout. Instead, she executed a lightning-fast Talon Strike, a focused open-palm technique aimed at the minor chakra point on his upper forearm. The force didn't break bone, but it instantly blocked the minute flow of chakra necessary for Minato to maintain his stance and speed.
Minato gasped, his arm instantly going numb. His defense broke. Makima seized his wrist and, with a powerful, clean throw, hurled him over her shoulder and slammed him into the ground.
Minato was pinned, the pain momentarily breaking his concentration. He could not move, though his mind was still calculating escapes.
Kishou's flag went up immediately.
Makima - 1 Point (Pin)
The score was now Minato 2, Makima 1.
Makima knew she had to exploit Minato's newly acquired injury, but Minato was too smart to allow a direct assault. The round began slowly. Both combatants were breathing heavily, their reserves visibly flagging. Minato, favoring his arm, circled carefully.
Makima feigned exhaustion. She stumbled slightly while circling, letting her golden eyes flicker with apparent strain. This was a deliberate bait—she was offering a perceived opening of weakness.
Minato, ever the predator, saw his chance. He needed only one point. He moved to attack Makima's vulnerable right flank, the area she had just exposed. But as he committed to the charge, Makima executed a near-invisible series of hand seals under the cover of her flowing hair, seals that required near-perfect control but minimal chakra.
"Mugen Kekkai (Infinite Barrier)!"
It wasn't a true barrier, but a localized, hyper-focused blast of Fūton (Wind Release) from her foot. The pressure didn't hit Minato; it hit the air just behind him, creating a momentary, focused vacuum that pulled Minato off his perfectly calculated trajectory by a critical inch.
Minato, recognizing the trap too late, tried to pivot back, but his momentum was already compromised. Makima, seizing the moment of his forced imbalance, executed a blinding Taijutsu sweep, her crimson braid lashing out like a whip. Minato was lifted off his feet and spun rapidly.
Makima did not let go. She used the spin to disorient him further and then, with a final, hard shove, she sent him flying. Minato impacted the padded wall of the arena hard, knocking the wind out of him, and his single remaining kunai clattered from his hand.
Kishou's flag went up.
Makima - 1 Point (Disarmament)
The score was Minato 2, Makima 2. The match was now tied, moving to a sudden-death final round.
The crowd was frenzied, unable to process the complexity of the comeback. Minato and Makima stood at the center, battered, bruised, and spent. This final round would be decided by sheer will and the last vestiges of chakra.
Minato knew he could not beat Makima in Taijutsu or raw power. He also knew Makima had no more intricate Ninjutsu left. His plan was simple: wait for her final move and use her momentum against her one last time.
Makima, understanding his intent perfectly, closed her eyes for a brief, terrifying moment. She commanded her body to draw on the absolute last dregs of the Uzumaki reserves, not for power, but for focus.
Makima's inner thought:He will wait for the perfect moment. I will not give him a perfect moment. I will give him a moment of calculated, beautiful imperfection. I must make the error the key to his defeat.
She charged Minato one last time, slower than before, her movements heavy, suggesting she was running on fumes. She launched a wide, powerful hook—a classic Taijutsu blunder that left her torso momentarily exposed.
Minato saw it—the exposed ribcage, the final window. He moved with a speed he didn't know he still possessed, aiming for a counter-pin beneath her guard. He did exactly what Makima calculated.
But Makima's move was not a mistake. As Minato drove forward, her exposed side only moved just enough for Minato's hand to slip past her ribs. Simultaneously, Makima released a final, massive, hidden burst of Doton chakra into her own left foot. This sudden anchor instantly stopped her forward momentum, converting her entire body's movement into a rotational pivot.
Minato, who had factored in Makima's continuous momentum, suddenly found himself moving too fast into an inert object. He was caught in Makima's controlled pivot. She threw her arm around his waist, not to attack, but to direct his speed. She used his own perfected momentum, leveraged against her newly anchored foot, and launched Minato, not over her shoulder, but directly backwards.
Minato flew, his body unable to correct its trajectory against the unexpected force and the lack of chakra for a Shunshin burst. He landed with a heavy thud just outside the boundary line.
Kishou's flag shot up, hanging motionless in the dead silence.
"Makima Utatane wins! Final score: 3 points to 2!"
The cheers were deafening, but Makima barely heard them. She was standing at the boundary, leaning heavily on her planted foot, her body shaking from the exertion of the final anchor. She was completely spent, winning by the single, razor-thin margin of her Uzumaki endurance and a perfectly manufactured geometric trap.
Makima looked down at Minato, who lay gasping outside the ring, his blue eyes filled not with frustration, but with brilliant, analytical comprehension. Makima's perfect, hungry smile returned, vast and terrifying. "It was an honor, Minato-kun," she said, her voice a near-whisper of exhausted triumph.