Chapter 42: The Konoha Cage
Clap. Clap. Clap.
The deliberate, measured footsteps came to a halt. Kakashi, Kurenai, and Asuma had arrived at the edge of the canyon, their presence immediately altering the dynamic of the standoff.
"Huh? Konoha shinobi?" Chōjūrō's attention flickered toward the newcomers for a critical split-second.
It was the opening Ryouma had been waiting for.
"Go to hell!"
Ryouma's blade was a silver streak of lightning, faster and sharper than ever before. He lunged, capitalizing on the distraction, his sword aimed not to wound, but to kill.
"Tch—!"
Chōjūrō twisted his body in a desperate, instinctive evasion. He avoided the fatal blow to his heart, but the tip of Ryouma's 'Flash' carved a deep gash across his shoulder. Flesh split open, and a torrent of blood immediately stained his blue shirt.
Ryouma didn't relent. He pressed the attack like a starved predator, his movements a continuous, aggressive flow.
Clang!
Their swords met again. This time, hampered by his fresh injury, Chōjūrō was on the back foot, his defense slightly faltering under Ryouma's ferocious assault.
Burst!
Chōjūrō's mind commanded. This time, Hiramekarei didn't release a shockwave; instead, the chakra within the blade detonated in a localized, concussive explosion right at the point of contact.
Ugh!
Ryouma was thrown backward, a spray of blood misting from his lips. He had been wary of the explosive property, but the point-blank speed was impossible to fully counter. He scrambled to create distance, consciously avoiding the Instant Eye. He feared a trap—a feint designed to bait him into using his teleportation, leaving him vulnerable during its brief cooldown.
Seeing Ryouma retreat, Chōjūrō didn't pursue. He too created space, his eyes darting warily between Ryouma and the three Konoha Jōnin. His mission was compromised.
Ryouma finally allowed himself a shaky breath, his own gaze turning to the newcomers. Konoha... Uzuki Xiyan must have reported my location. These are my... 'reinforcements'?
And they were all familiar faces. The mentors of three of the Konoha 12. And his own former sensei, Kurenai Yūhi.
Kakashi's single visible eye was narrowed, his mind racing. He recognized the swords—this was one of Kiri's Seven Swordsmen. Any one of them would struggle against Chōjūrō alone. Yet, Akizuki Ryouma, their former student, had not only held his own but had drawn first blood.
"Asuma, Kurenai, prepare the barrier," Kakashi ordered, his voice low. His hand went to his forehead protector, pulling it up to reveal the Sharingan, the three tomoe spinning slowly, already locking onto Ryouma's chakra signature.
He's serious from the start, Asuma thought, a flicker of surprise crossing his features as he looked at Ryouma. His hands, however, were already moving. "Shadow Clone Technique!"
Poof! An identical copy of Asuma appeared beside him.
Kurenai stood motionless for a moment, her eyes fixed on the bloody, determined face of her former student. A hand gently rested on her shoulder. It was her own shadow clone. "The Hokage will be merciful to him," the clone whispered, its voice meant only for her.
Kurenai nodded, her trembling hands finally stilling as she reached a decision. "Shadow Clone Technique!"
Poof! Another Kurenai appeared.
"Move out!" Kakashi commanded softly, his Sharingan never leaving Ryouma.
The four of them—the two originals and their two clones—spread out instantly, each taking a corner, effectively boxing both Ryouma and Chōjūrō in the center of a large square.
"Konoha ninja, what is the meaning of this?!" Chōjūrō barked, his grip tightening on his swords. The situation had just become exponentially more dangerous.
Kurenai and Asuma didn't answer. Their hands flew through a synchronized set of hand seals, their movements perfectly mirrored by their clones.
Dream! Chōjūrō growled, launching himself towards Kurenai's position to disrupt the jutsu.
But they were too fast. All four figures finished their seals simultaneously, slamming their palms onto the ground.
"Four Sun Sealing Array!"
Hum! Hum! Hum!
Vibrant red ripples of energy erupted from the four points, spreading and connecting in an instant, forming a shimmering, cubic barrier that enclosed the entire battleground with a resonant thrum.
Boom!
Chōjūrō crashed into the translucent wall and was thrown back, the barrier unwavering.
Ryouma watched it all with cold eyes. Finally, his gaze settled on Kurenai. "Sensei," he said, his voice flat.
Kurenai's heart clenched. She looked up, meeting his tired eyes, her own filled with a conflict she couldn't voice. She merely sighed, offering no explanation.
"Long time no see."
"Ha... yes. Long time no see." Kurenai's voice was soft. Her hands began to shake again.
"Aren't you going to ask me why I defected?" Ryouma wiped the rain—now blocked by the barrier—from his face. He offered a thin, cynical smile. "You know I have the Instant Eye, and yet you use a barrier. Which means this barrier is designed to trap even spatial techniques?"
"Ryouma, turn back. The Hokage will—"
"Stop!" Ryouma cut her off sharply, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. "Tomorrow is the finals of the Chūnin Exams, right?"
Kurenai blinked, thrown by the non-sequitur. Kakashi, Asuma, and even Chōjūruro looked puzzled.
"What of it?" Kurenai asked, confused.
"Nothing," Ryouma chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. "It's just... perfect." In his mind, he saw the future: Orochimaru's invasion, the death of the Third Hokage. The village would soon have far greater concerns than one rogue ninja. A hero to the village, but not a hero in my heart.
He turned his smile towards Chōjūrō. "They seem to want us to finish our fight first. What do you say?"
"You can't teleport out of here anymore?"
"No."
A grim satisfaction flickered across the faces of the Konoha trio. Their plan was working.
"Then come!" Chōjūrō roared. He knew a temporary alliance with Ryouma was impossible. His only path was to kill the rogue ninja swiftly and then face the Konoha Jōnin, hoping to find a weakness in the barrier.
In a flash, he was before Ryouma again, Hiramekarei swinging in a wide, powerful arc.
"That move is getting old!" Ryouma's mind cleared, his focus absolute. His long sword became an extension of his will, deftly parrying the heavy blow and using the momentum to spin inside Chōjūrō's guard. The silver blade thrust forward like a striking viper.
"Extreme Swordsmanship: Meteor!"
This was the technique he had used to seemingly kill Danzō. It sacrificed all defense for unparalleled speed and piercing power.
"So fast!" Chōjūrō had no time for a proper block. He could only bring his other sword, the smaller and quicker one, across his body in a desperate attempt to deflect.
KRA-KOOM!
The collision was unlike any before. It wasn't a clang, but a localized detonation of force, like a meteor striking the earth. Sparks flew not from friction, but from the sheer violent energy of the impact.
The inertia from Chōjūrō's initial swing pulled him forward, creating a fatal opening.
Shriiiiek!
An ear-piercing shriek of grinding metal filled the barrier. At the last possible moment, Ryouma's blade, without even making physical contact, released a sliver of cutting energy that sliced cleanly across Chōjūrō's chest. The swordsman twisted violently, abandoning his stance to tumble to the ground, narrowly avoiding a deeper wound.
He looked down at the bleeding line on his pectoral muscle, then back at Ryouma's sword in shock. The blade hadn't touched him. It was the sword's intent, the concentrated force of the "Meteor," that had cut him.
"So strong..." The sentiment was shared by everyone present. The way they viewed Akizuki Ryouma had been fundamentally altered once again.
The most affected was Chōjūrō. He rose to his feet, gripping both hilts of Hiramekarei tightly. He took a deep, centering breath, pushing all pain and distraction aside. A primal, chilling feeling settled in his gut—the feeling of genuine, mortal peril.
He could not hold back any longer.
"Hiramekarei..." he intoned, his voice resonating with power. "Release!"