Chakra Wizard
Active member
Awards
Round Two! This is a pretty important chapter, so hopefully it turned out as great as I hoped it would. As always, enjoy
Here’s my previous chapters, for those who missed any:
Chapter 106: Defeat
Niyo and his squad heaved a sigh of relief at their captain’s sudden arrival, as did Rounin, whose surprise was amplified by obliviousness to the extent of Airon’s chakra control. Masurao had also never seen Airon’s now famous ability, and he couldn’t help but stare at him from beneath his massive shades as he slowly returned to ground level.
Masurao: That’s an interesting technique, Airon Namikaze. I hope you’ll forgive me for staring.
Airon: (He stepped between Masurao and Rounin, gazing at the latter out of the corner of his eye.) Move everyone back. Yourself, too. (If something goes wrong, start running as fast as you can.)
Rounin: (He nodded in understanding.) (Understood.)
Rounin took a step back until his samurai were directly behind him. Masurao, meanwhile, stood there and watched him and Airon intensely, quickly putting all the pieces together.
Masurao: Slipping each other secret messages, are we?
Airon: (He traded looks with Rounin.) How’d you know?
Masurao: Well, you didn’t do much to hide it. Not during my duel with you and Manako Uchiha. Not now between you and this old samurai.
As he spoke, Masurao assumed his traditional battle stance, prompting Airon to assume his own. Step by step, they circled one another, both of them working to conceal their excitement.
Masurao: You know, against all odds, in you I finally found an opponent I couldn’t wait to see again. …Now prove to me you weren’t simply having a good day.
Airon couldn’t help but smile sinisterly at the notion as they charged one another at full speed. Naturally, this put Airon on the offensive first, with Masurao showing much more effort in deflecting his swings than he did against Rounin and the others. As the duel carried on, Airon slowly began putting his unique skills to good use, moving up with each step he took until finally, he was hovering directly over Masurao. With the advantage clearly his, the bystanders heaved a sigh of relief. For one samurai, this seemed the perfect opportunity to start backing away, but as if he had backed straight into Masurao himself, the infamous swordmaster picked up on the intent immediately and escaped his current predicament via Body Flicker, leaving his sword behind while using his second to stab the deserter through the chest. Those around them took several steps back, their hope depleted once again.
Masurao: Did you think my words were empty now? No one leaves this battlefield until I’m dead.
As the samurai collapsed, Masurao ducked and held his hand up, catching his sword as it came flying towards him, thrown by Airon. Almost immediately, the blade began overflowing with chakra, its owner having recognized that the majority of the chakra flowing through it was not his own.
Masurao: I’m not a fool, Airon Namikaze. I know what you were trying to do.
As he looked up to face his opponent, Airon vanished from his spot in the air and appeared directly beside him. A quick glance alerted Masurao to the marking sitting between the sword’s blade and hilt, but this brief fraction of wasted time allowed his opponent to swing around and send a large wave of blood gushing from between his ribs. Masurao took several steps back and stopped to inspect the wound, all the while Airon smiled at this milestone.
Airon: Oh, I agree. You just don’t know as much about me as you think.
The disciplined warrior that he was, Masurao didn’t even bat an eye as he dug his fingers into the massive gash to determine its depth. By some freak of nature, it proved just shallow enough to avoid his lung.
Masurao: No one’s ever done that before…ever.
He threw his sword into the ground and, with one strong kick, shattered the narrow space between the blade and the hilt. He pulled out his second sword to compensate, amusing Airon all the more.
Airon: Would it make you feel better if I told you I marked the blade and not the hilt?
Masurao: Amusing. But like I said, I'm no fool.
He quickly pumped chakra into his new primary weapon and within seconds, it grew to the same length as its predecessor, much to Airon’s surprise. Even more surprising, though, was the sight of Masurao’s wound closing up before his very eyes, yet another feat of chakra control Airon previously thought was unique to himself. They resumed their duel almost immediately, Airon now on defense, clearly working up a sweat but also clearly thrilled by the new level of challenge Masurao took in his mind. The others also witnessed these feats of prowess on Masurao’s part, which only served to magnify their fear. Hedero stepped beside Rounin, whispering into his ear.
Hedero: Rounin. What do we do? We have to escape at some point.
Mikan: (She whispered angrily into his ear.) What and get cut down like Ruko, you ass? Face it, we’ll be joining her once he’s done with this kid.
Rounin: Both of you, stop. …Airon Namikaze is no normal child. If anyone can defeat Masurao, it’ll be him.
The two looked at Airon in wonder when Rounin said this. It was true from witnessing their duel that Airon was no closer to putting Masurao out of commission than any of them. However, they couldn’t deny he had lasted longer against him than anyone else before and, with some initial reluctance, they chose to believe in him, as well. Airon’s childish nature was not lost in his late teens, however, and with him and Masurao currently caught in a standoff, he took the opportunity to leap up and plant his foot against his cheek. Masurao warped away before the kick could do any real damage, but his mind wasn’t focused on his own well-being.
Masurao: You’re breaking the rules again, Airon Namikaze. Sword fights are supposed to be fought with swords.
Airon: Don’t try playing with honor now, Masurao. If you really cared, you would have allowed all those swordsmen to accept your challenge instead of forcing them to fight when they knew they couldn’t win.
Once again, they resumed their fight, and once again, Airon returned to the air, intending to take advantage of his skills whenever the chance presented itself. Masurao leapt up to attack him midair, as Airon knew he would, and he quickly found Airon’s hand around his wrist and his sword pressed against his. Without warning, Airon leapt further up, dragging him along, intent on releasing him at a high enough altitude to produce a fatal plummet. To his great surprise, though, Masurao continued to put up a strong front, and after a quick look down, Airon discovered why.
Masurao: Very well then. We’ll just abandon all rules.
Everyone down below looked up in shock at the chakra that now coated the soles of Masurao’s feet, granting him the same ability that Airon so considered his very own. The young swordsman just stood there frozen, his mind now focused on two things – keeping his chakra focused around his feet, and discerning how someone other than him could be walking on thin air.
Masurao: What’s the matter? You look as if you’re praying that you’ll wake up at any moment.
Airon didn’t answer. And after a few seconds of waiting for one, Masurao heaved a sigh as he realized he was right.
Masurao: The history of shinobi stretches back many centuries, Airon Namikaze. Surely you didn’t believe that no one in history ever possessed the same talents as you. …Are you really that deluded by your own power?
A single insult was all it took to pull Airon out of his daze, and he quickly pushed Masurao away and charged forward to silence him.
Airon: My power is as real as it gets! And there’s more than enough to kill you a hundred times over, Masurao!!
Masurao: (He stared at him, unimpressed, as he deflected every swing that came his way.) I’m not here to test your power. I’m here to test your ability to handle a sword. Now stop swinging it like a monkey and show me what you can do!
They fell back and clashed once again, skillfully balancing their focus between the duel and keeping the chakra around their feet intact. Those down below watched in amazement, for the briefest second not even thinking about the fate of the fight or escaping before its conclusion. The fight carried on for some time which, as these situations were known to do, only boiled Airon’s blood even further. Anger begetting carelessness, this ultimately resulted in Masurao placing a deep cut on his leg, distracting him momentarily and causing him to plummet over a hundred feet before the chakra gathered around his feet in time to prevent him from hitting the ground. In an act of courtesy, Masurao took a plummet of equal depth himself, relieving his opponent of the need to return to his previous altitude after he finished healing his wound.
Masurao: I’m almost relieved. You’re going to need both legs for the final test.
Airon: (He shot him a fiery look that showcased his gritted teeth.) STOP TALKING TO ME LIKE I’M JUST SOME DUMMY FOR YOU TO TEST YOUR POWER!!!
Now standing just a few feet above the ground, they closed the gap completely before charging. Just as he had done in their first duel, Masurao pivoted his body as they came within reach. Likewise, Airon mimicked the movement, prompting Masurao to pivot a second time. Again, Airon mimicked the movement, begetting a third from his opponent, but as Airon attempted to pivot a third time himself, his footing gave away and stumbled helplessly to the ground. His opponent now completely vulnerable, Masurao brought his sword around and slid it effortlessly between his ribs and into the ground on the other side. A mountain of blood spewed from Airon’s lips as he began gasping for breath, and Airon immediately knew it had punctured his lung. Masurao did nothing to help him this time and stood over him a few moments longer, twisting the blade slightly to produce even more pain. Those nearby watched in horror as this decisive blow, particularly Rounin, who drew tears with each little twist of Masurao’s sword.
Rounin: No…Masurao, wait! Don’t-
Hearing the pleas, Masurao finally retracted his sword and Airon gathered as much as he could to fill his remaining lung as he pressed his hand against the other in an effort to heal it. Masurao, meanwhile, held his sword out, pointing it toward Rounin as a warning to neither retreat nor assist. He waited for Airon to stand once again, sword in one hand and the other still healing his open wound, before turning back to face him.
Masurao: Why would I treat you like anything other than what you are to me, Airon Namikaze? …At least in this way, I’m honest about my feelings towards MY opponents.
Airon gritted his teeth as his anger returned, but before he could act on it, images of his matches in the Chūnin Exams passed before his eyes, as did several other instances where he was dominating shinobi of varying familiarity, from a handful of Grass Village rogues a few months back to the fights he shared with Minto and Z just four years ago.
Masurao: Do you see now? Those with exceptional power can’t help but think lower of those around them, even the ones closest to them. The weak are all but useless to you, boring to even be around. The strong garner your attention and praise, but even they become objectified by your constant desire to upstage them. To make them feel as inferior to you as those you consider weak. …I’m sure even your cousin has felt this before.
Airon spent some time denying this in his mind, but every procured memory only added to Masurao’s point. He had several young chūnin and jōnin whom he considered longtime friends, but very few who were actually close to him. Manako was by far the oldest and closest of them all, but every memory he shared with him past their years in the Academy involved some form of training or fighting, anything to pit their abilities against one another. And any time he discovered something that Manako couldn’t do, he felt an immense satisfaction that couldn’t be misconstrued. Whichever way he looked at it, Masurao was completely right. Whatever he felt towards Manako, it almost certainly wasn’t friendship, and with this thought now clearly expressed on his face, Masurao walked toward him with his sword raised and ready.
Masurao: And right when I thought I’d finally found someone who could...
He didn’t complete his sentence before Airon swung his sword around in one last fit of rage, sensing he was just within reach. Masurao countered, but this time, rather than hold up his own sword to absorb the blow, he spun around quickly to build momentum and cutting power, so much so when the blades collided, Airon’s completely shattered. It wasn’t from more chakra pulsating through his blade than Airon’s – his chakra was far too potent to lose at that – nor was it even from superior craftsmanship, as both had poured their hearts and souls into the forging of their weapons. It was simply because Masurao was better, and as Airon had come to realize, better in every way. Airon fell to his knees, still clutching the hilt of his shattered weapon, as the tears began flowing. He could no longer bring himself to move. Masurao saw this, as did Rounin, who held his hand out in protest as Masurao raised his sword over his head.
Rounin: No! Airon, stand up!! Don’t just sit there and allow yourself to die!!
Masurao: He died with his sword, General. I’m just putting him out of his misery now.
Airon could hear their words, but they seemed distant in his mind, estranged from the reality before him which was Masurao’s raised sword. He closed his eyes, but there was no thought of loved ones left behind, or what pain would be felt or damage would be done to his body. In his mind, he was already dead.
????: NOOOOO!!!
The darkness was there, but the pain had yet to leave. Airon sat there in that darkness, confused and scared, wondering what came next. Then, from that darkness, stepped a woman, the same dark-haired woman who haunted his dreams at night. He stared at her, and she did at him, a smile on her face until she began mouthing two words. In his dream-like state, Airon could barely decipher them, but his senses slowly returned and he knew what they were.
????: Go back.
Airon opened his eyes, only to find himself blinded yet again. A moment passed and he realized he could hardly breathe, as well. Another moment helped him realize that both ailments stemmed from the same cause – something was laying over top of him, some exploration of the senses determining it to be a human body, which flung itself between him and Masurao’s bloodstained sword. As it turned out, the scream he heard earlier came from Niyo. The body laying on top of him was Rounin.
Airon: No…Rounin. Rounin, what did you do!? That was mine, don’t take it from me!!
Beneath his shades, even Masurao showed surprise at the older man’s sacrifice. Rounin himself could barely hear any of it. Blood oozed from his open back and his senses began to fade away, but nonetheless, he smiled.
Inside the samurai stronghold, a younger Rounin, dressed in full armor and with a not-yet fully grown beard, passed through the massive halls, all those he passed paying their respects to him. With time, he eventually came across a large door, at either side of which stood two older samurai. He bowed to them, as they did to him, before they stepped aside with either handle of the door in hand. When he had gone in, they quickly closed it behind him. Inside was a rather spacious room, decorated with noble décor. It was filled with lit candles and flower bouquets, all from well-wishers to the elderly samurai laying on the large bed, breathing through a heavy apparatus that was set off to the side. Rounin approached him at his bidding, waiting patiently for him to remove the mask so he could see his predecessor’s face. As he did, Mifune gently patted the side of the bed, an invitation for Rounin to sit down.
Rounin: Thank you, General. But I’d rather stand by your bedside than sully your sheets.
Mifune smiled and repeated his offer, at which point, to avoid rudeness, Rounin reluctantly and gently sat on the very edge of the bed. Mifune took another breath through his apparatus before speaking.
Mifune: My advisors informed me of your modesty, Rounin. It seems they were being modest themselves.
He attempted to laugh at his words, but this only produced a loud cough, forcing him to breathe a few more times through his apparatus as Rounin looked on worriedly.
Rounin: General, please. Don’t exert yourself so much.
Mifune: (After catching his breath, he set the mask to his side.) Very well. But in return, I would like you to stop referring to me as General.
Rounin: I can’t do that, sir. I feel dishonorable not acknowledging your title.
Mifune: (He wheezed a laugh as he reached for his apparatus again.) Sir…well, it’s certainly a start.
Rounin just shook his head as Mifune took a few more breaths, deciding for the foreseeable future to appease the old man’s wishes.
Rounin: May I ask why you called me to your chambers…sir?
Mifune laughed again, partly at his insistence on settling with “sir” and also at the rhetoricalness of his question.
Mifune: I thought it obvious when I sent for you. …It’s your name I heard over and over again. “He’s as skilled as you were in your heyday, General Mifune, perhaps even more so.” “He is the perfect choice, General Mifune.” And even after finally giving into their insistences, it wasn’t until now that I sent for my future successor so that we may meet face to face.
Hearing his words, Rounin inspected his superior from head to toe. He did seem to be in worse shape than he anticipated walking through the halls, and his eyes quickly dilated.
Rounin: Sir, are you dying-
Mifune: It’s Mifune, damn it. “Sir” was my father’s name.
Having never heard this particular quip before, Rounin remained confused for a moment as Mifune breathed through his apparatus following this most recent exertion.
Mifune: Yes…I have felt my health slipping more and more over the past few days. So before I lost my chance, I sent for you so we may have at least one chat before the inevitable.
Rounin: (Worry and confusion filled his eyes.) About what, may I ask?
Mifune: (He let forth another wheezing laugh.) About your future as a leader, of course.
He motioned for Rounin to lean forward, so he might speak to him with less volume. Still reluctantly, he obeyed.
Mifune: How old are you, Rounin?
Rounin: Only twenty-one, sir…sorry.
Mifune: It’s alright. I was in my early thirties myself, when my own predecessor passed on. I can’t imagine what that burden must feel like at your young age.
He reached out and put his hand on Rounin’s shoulder before continuing.
Mifune: Fret not. Outside this room and throughout this fortress reside countless samurai willing and ready to serve you as they did me. And put down their lives to protect you if the situation demands it.
Rounin: You don’t need to worry, sir, and neither do they. As general, I would proudly sacrifice my own life before a single warrior in this country perishes on my watch.
He gave this short speech with more passion than was unnecessary. To his surprise, Mifune merely shook his head.
Mifune: This is not your job, Rounin.
Rounin: Sir? …Sorry.
Mifune: (He looked at him with a soft smile.) The job of the older generations is to die for the younger ones. These samurai know this to be true. You may be their leader, but you are also a young man, still full of life when most of them are halfway through theirs. …Cruel as it may sound, you must let them defend their honor by defending you when the time comes. And when you are as old as I, the generations that follow will expect you to do the same.
Rounin looked at him intrigued as he spoke. He slowly started to understand.
Mifune: Know this, Rounin. It is the old and not-so-wise who wage war. Never let the young and prosperous perish in their place. …A father should always die before his sons. Do you understand this?
The son of such a man himself, Rounin did indeed understand this. His face filled with resolve, he abandoned his earlier modesty and took Mifune’s hand, squeezing it in his own.
Rounin: Completely…Mifune.
Mifune smiled up at him as he laid back down on his pillow, tired but satisfied. Then he closed his eyes.
Rounin closed his eyes, his vision too far gone for them to be of any further use. He used what strength he had to raise his mouth up to Airon’s ear, but when this was done, he had barely enough left to give volume to his final words.
Rounin: The old wage war…so let the old die.
Airon stared at him wide-eyed as his head collapsed over his shoulder. The samurai nearby shed tears, some more visible than others. Masurao, who stood there and watch him die, turned to face them as Airon sat there horrified, unable to shake the corpse now draped his shoulders.
Niyo: YOU BASTAAAARRRDD!!!
Masurao easily brushed Niyo aside and effortlessly cut down the samurai who followed him one after the other. When the final one collapsed, he took to his four remaining subjects – Hedero, Saidai, Mikan and Ichigo.
Masurao: And then there were four.
One by one, the young swordsmen drew their respective swords. Saidai drew Samehada, Mikan drew Kabutowari, Hedero drew Nuibari and being helped to his feet, Ichigo drew Shibuki, his eyes still drying the tears he shed at Ruko’s passing. He waved his sword and a massive length of explosive scroll surrounded them on all sides, its purpose to keep Masurao at bay. But evasion was all but second instinct to Masurao, and with one quick turn of his heel, he reappeared behind Hedero and impaled him with his sword, causing his arm to go limp and Ichigo to fall back to the ground. Mikan charged forward to attack, as she was known to do, but her weapon was quickly knocked from her hand before a swipe of Masurao’s leg brought her to the ground. After another swift disappearance, Masurao reappeared holding the two blades of Kiba. Before Mikan could stand and recuperate, he used one to pin her head to the ground, leaving it there as he turned to face Saidai with the second. Before their duel could even begin, however, Samehada started flailing wildly, trying hard as it could to free itself from Saidai’s grasp and crawl its way over to Masurao. Such was the nature of the sentient blade, as it was known to go after the closest shinobi with the most potent chakra. What it was not capable of, however, was rational thought, or it would’ve known to avoid Masurao, as he would deject it and use the much sharper Kiba to slice it completely in half as its wielder looked on in shock.
Saidai: You fool!! That sword is sacred!!
Masurao: And you say it as if it’s the first time things considered precious were destroyed under such circumstances.
He charges forward, Kiba in one hand and his own blade in the other, but Saidai was quite agile despite his height, allowing him to push back as he dodged his swings, praying that Masurao didn’t resort to common sense and dispatch him with Body Flicker. All the while, Ichigo struggled to return to his feet, and once he did so, waved Shibuki’s scroll around and swung it forward, directly between Saidai and Masurao, the explosives appearing on the side facing the latter. Masurao vanished in the ensuing fire and smoke, only to appear behind Ichigo with his blades held out to sever his head.
Masurao: Forgive me if I now find some pleasure in your death.
Saidai: Ichigo, RUN!!!
Ichigo managed to duck to avoid the initial blow, but as he tried moving away, his eyes fell upon Ruko’s decapitated head once again, causing him to shut them in fear. Seeing his comrade’s immobility and Masurao’s sword held high to impale him, Saidai spent his last moments praying before running forward, leaping over Ichigo as Masurao’s swords impaled his back. Protruding from his chest, the tips of the blades pierced and dragged themselves along Ichigo’s back as Saidai fell off to the side, bringing him great pain but nonetheless sparing his life. As he fell to his side, he stared over at Saidai, beneath whom a massive puddle of blood began to form.
Ichigo: Saidai…why didn’t you run, you idiot!?
Saidai: (Fighting for breath, he gazed over at Ruko’s headless form.) If she were here…she would’ve just done it instead.
Ichigo looked over at Ruko, as well, and through his tears, he understood this to be true. Paying heed to their final moments, Masurao walked over to retrieve his own sword from Saidai’s back, then impaled him through the head to hasten his death.
Masurao: I can concur with that. And so it will be. Ichigo Taizen, your friends’ sacrifice has earned you more time to live. And you, samurai Niyo. I will keep my promise to you for showing courage in defense of your leader.
As Niyo and Ichigo sprawled across the ground, trying to endure the pain of their injuries, Masurao walked over to his third surviving victim and knelt down in front of him. Airon didn’t even have the sensibility to look up.
Masurao: After showing me so much potential in our first meeting, today I can say that I’ve never felt more disappointed. …But, to honor the sacrifice of General Rounin, I will give you one more chance to show me your full potential. Until then, enjoy what remains of your short and pitiful existence.
With a single swing of his sword, Masurao vanished into thin air, leaving the three behind. Voices could be heard in the distance as Niyo stumbled over to Airon, snatching Rounin’s body from his arms.
Niyo: General…Rounin…Rounin!!
Amidst his sadness came an overbearing hatred, and he turned to Airon so he could vent it.
Niyo: What the hell have you done!? He said we could put our faith in you!! SO WHY IS EVERYBODY DEAD!!?
Airon didn’t answer. He just sat there, eyes wide with distress, tormented by the reality of what just occurred.
Airon feels defeat – for the first time in his life!!!
The End
Here’s my previous chapters, for those who missed any:
You must be registered for see links
You must be registered for see links
You must be registered for see links
You must be registered for see links
You must be registered for see links
You must be registered for see links
You must be registered for see links
You must be registered for see links
You must be registered for see links
You must be registered for see links
Chapter 106: Defeat
Niyo and his squad heaved a sigh of relief at their captain’s sudden arrival, as did Rounin, whose surprise was amplified by obliviousness to the extent of Airon’s chakra control. Masurao had also never seen Airon’s now famous ability, and he couldn’t help but stare at him from beneath his massive shades as he slowly returned to ground level.
Masurao: That’s an interesting technique, Airon Namikaze. I hope you’ll forgive me for staring.
Airon: (He stepped between Masurao and Rounin, gazing at the latter out of the corner of his eye.) Move everyone back. Yourself, too. (If something goes wrong, start running as fast as you can.)
Rounin: (He nodded in understanding.) (Understood.)
Rounin took a step back until his samurai were directly behind him. Masurao, meanwhile, stood there and watched him and Airon intensely, quickly putting all the pieces together.
Masurao: Slipping each other secret messages, are we?
Airon: (He traded looks with Rounin.) How’d you know?
Masurao: Well, you didn’t do much to hide it. Not during my duel with you and Manako Uchiha. Not now between you and this old samurai.
As he spoke, Masurao assumed his traditional battle stance, prompting Airon to assume his own. Step by step, they circled one another, both of them working to conceal their excitement.
Masurao: You know, against all odds, in you I finally found an opponent I couldn’t wait to see again. …Now prove to me you weren’t simply having a good day.
Airon couldn’t help but smile sinisterly at the notion as they charged one another at full speed. Naturally, this put Airon on the offensive first, with Masurao showing much more effort in deflecting his swings than he did against Rounin and the others. As the duel carried on, Airon slowly began putting his unique skills to good use, moving up with each step he took until finally, he was hovering directly over Masurao. With the advantage clearly his, the bystanders heaved a sigh of relief. For one samurai, this seemed the perfect opportunity to start backing away, but as if he had backed straight into Masurao himself, the infamous swordmaster picked up on the intent immediately and escaped his current predicament via Body Flicker, leaving his sword behind while using his second to stab the deserter through the chest. Those around them took several steps back, their hope depleted once again.
Masurao: Did you think my words were empty now? No one leaves this battlefield until I’m dead.
As the samurai collapsed, Masurao ducked and held his hand up, catching his sword as it came flying towards him, thrown by Airon. Almost immediately, the blade began overflowing with chakra, its owner having recognized that the majority of the chakra flowing through it was not his own.
Masurao: I’m not a fool, Airon Namikaze. I know what you were trying to do.
As he looked up to face his opponent, Airon vanished from his spot in the air and appeared directly beside him. A quick glance alerted Masurao to the marking sitting between the sword’s blade and hilt, but this brief fraction of wasted time allowed his opponent to swing around and send a large wave of blood gushing from between his ribs. Masurao took several steps back and stopped to inspect the wound, all the while Airon smiled at this milestone.
Airon: Oh, I agree. You just don’t know as much about me as you think.
The disciplined warrior that he was, Masurao didn’t even bat an eye as he dug his fingers into the massive gash to determine its depth. By some freak of nature, it proved just shallow enough to avoid his lung.
Masurao: No one’s ever done that before…ever.
He threw his sword into the ground and, with one strong kick, shattered the narrow space between the blade and the hilt. He pulled out his second sword to compensate, amusing Airon all the more.
Airon: Would it make you feel better if I told you I marked the blade and not the hilt?
Masurao: Amusing. But like I said, I'm no fool.
He quickly pumped chakra into his new primary weapon and within seconds, it grew to the same length as its predecessor, much to Airon’s surprise. Even more surprising, though, was the sight of Masurao’s wound closing up before his very eyes, yet another feat of chakra control Airon previously thought was unique to himself. They resumed their duel almost immediately, Airon now on defense, clearly working up a sweat but also clearly thrilled by the new level of challenge Masurao took in his mind. The others also witnessed these feats of prowess on Masurao’s part, which only served to magnify their fear. Hedero stepped beside Rounin, whispering into his ear.
Hedero: Rounin. What do we do? We have to escape at some point.
Mikan: (She whispered angrily into his ear.) What and get cut down like Ruko, you ass? Face it, we’ll be joining her once he’s done with this kid.
Rounin: Both of you, stop. …Airon Namikaze is no normal child. If anyone can defeat Masurao, it’ll be him.
The two looked at Airon in wonder when Rounin said this. It was true from witnessing their duel that Airon was no closer to putting Masurao out of commission than any of them. However, they couldn’t deny he had lasted longer against him than anyone else before and, with some initial reluctance, they chose to believe in him, as well. Airon’s childish nature was not lost in his late teens, however, and with him and Masurao currently caught in a standoff, he took the opportunity to leap up and plant his foot against his cheek. Masurao warped away before the kick could do any real damage, but his mind wasn’t focused on his own well-being.
Masurao: You’re breaking the rules again, Airon Namikaze. Sword fights are supposed to be fought with swords.
Airon: Don’t try playing with honor now, Masurao. If you really cared, you would have allowed all those swordsmen to accept your challenge instead of forcing them to fight when they knew they couldn’t win.
Once again, they resumed their fight, and once again, Airon returned to the air, intending to take advantage of his skills whenever the chance presented itself. Masurao leapt up to attack him midair, as Airon knew he would, and he quickly found Airon’s hand around his wrist and his sword pressed against his. Without warning, Airon leapt further up, dragging him along, intent on releasing him at a high enough altitude to produce a fatal plummet. To his great surprise, though, Masurao continued to put up a strong front, and after a quick look down, Airon discovered why.
Masurao: Very well then. We’ll just abandon all rules.
Everyone down below looked up in shock at the chakra that now coated the soles of Masurao’s feet, granting him the same ability that Airon so considered his very own. The young swordsman just stood there frozen, his mind now focused on two things – keeping his chakra focused around his feet, and discerning how someone other than him could be walking on thin air.
Masurao: What’s the matter? You look as if you’re praying that you’ll wake up at any moment.
Airon didn’t answer. And after a few seconds of waiting for one, Masurao heaved a sigh as he realized he was right.
Masurao: The history of shinobi stretches back many centuries, Airon Namikaze. Surely you didn’t believe that no one in history ever possessed the same talents as you. …Are you really that deluded by your own power?
A single insult was all it took to pull Airon out of his daze, and he quickly pushed Masurao away and charged forward to silence him.
Airon: My power is as real as it gets! And there’s more than enough to kill you a hundred times over, Masurao!!
Masurao: (He stared at him, unimpressed, as he deflected every swing that came his way.) I’m not here to test your power. I’m here to test your ability to handle a sword. Now stop swinging it like a monkey and show me what you can do!
They fell back and clashed once again, skillfully balancing their focus between the duel and keeping the chakra around their feet intact. Those down below watched in amazement, for the briefest second not even thinking about the fate of the fight or escaping before its conclusion. The fight carried on for some time which, as these situations were known to do, only boiled Airon’s blood even further. Anger begetting carelessness, this ultimately resulted in Masurao placing a deep cut on his leg, distracting him momentarily and causing him to plummet over a hundred feet before the chakra gathered around his feet in time to prevent him from hitting the ground. In an act of courtesy, Masurao took a plummet of equal depth himself, relieving his opponent of the need to return to his previous altitude after he finished healing his wound.
Masurao: I’m almost relieved. You’re going to need both legs for the final test.
Airon: (He shot him a fiery look that showcased his gritted teeth.) STOP TALKING TO ME LIKE I’M JUST SOME DUMMY FOR YOU TO TEST YOUR POWER!!!
Now standing just a few feet above the ground, they closed the gap completely before charging. Just as he had done in their first duel, Masurao pivoted his body as they came within reach. Likewise, Airon mimicked the movement, prompting Masurao to pivot a second time. Again, Airon mimicked the movement, begetting a third from his opponent, but as Airon attempted to pivot a third time himself, his footing gave away and stumbled helplessly to the ground. His opponent now completely vulnerable, Masurao brought his sword around and slid it effortlessly between his ribs and into the ground on the other side. A mountain of blood spewed from Airon’s lips as he began gasping for breath, and Airon immediately knew it had punctured his lung. Masurao did nothing to help him this time and stood over him a few moments longer, twisting the blade slightly to produce even more pain. Those nearby watched in horror as this decisive blow, particularly Rounin, who drew tears with each little twist of Masurao’s sword.
Rounin: No…Masurao, wait! Don’t-
Hearing the pleas, Masurao finally retracted his sword and Airon gathered as much as he could to fill his remaining lung as he pressed his hand against the other in an effort to heal it. Masurao, meanwhile, held his sword out, pointing it toward Rounin as a warning to neither retreat nor assist. He waited for Airon to stand once again, sword in one hand and the other still healing his open wound, before turning back to face him.
Masurao: Why would I treat you like anything other than what you are to me, Airon Namikaze? …At least in this way, I’m honest about my feelings towards MY opponents.
Airon gritted his teeth as his anger returned, but before he could act on it, images of his matches in the Chūnin Exams passed before his eyes, as did several other instances where he was dominating shinobi of varying familiarity, from a handful of Grass Village rogues a few months back to the fights he shared with Minto and Z just four years ago.
Masurao: Do you see now? Those with exceptional power can’t help but think lower of those around them, even the ones closest to them. The weak are all but useless to you, boring to even be around. The strong garner your attention and praise, but even they become objectified by your constant desire to upstage them. To make them feel as inferior to you as those you consider weak. …I’m sure even your cousin has felt this before.
Airon spent some time denying this in his mind, but every procured memory only added to Masurao’s point. He had several young chūnin and jōnin whom he considered longtime friends, but very few who were actually close to him. Manako was by far the oldest and closest of them all, but every memory he shared with him past their years in the Academy involved some form of training or fighting, anything to pit their abilities against one another. And any time he discovered something that Manako couldn’t do, he felt an immense satisfaction that couldn’t be misconstrued. Whichever way he looked at it, Masurao was completely right. Whatever he felt towards Manako, it almost certainly wasn’t friendship, and with this thought now clearly expressed on his face, Masurao walked toward him with his sword raised and ready.
Masurao: And right when I thought I’d finally found someone who could...
He didn’t complete his sentence before Airon swung his sword around in one last fit of rage, sensing he was just within reach. Masurao countered, but this time, rather than hold up his own sword to absorb the blow, he spun around quickly to build momentum and cutting power, so much so when the blades collided, Airon’s completely shattered. It wasn’t from more chakra pulsating through his blade than Airon’s – his chakra was far too potent to lose at that – nor was it even from superior craftsmanship, as both had poured their hearts and souls into the forging of their weapons. It was simply because Masurao was better, and as Airon had come to realize, better in every way. Airon fell to his knees, still clutching the hilt of his shattered weapon, as the tears began flowing. He could no longer bring himself to move. Masurao saw this, as did Rounin, who held his hand out in protest as Masurao raised his sword over his head.
Rounin: No! Airon, stand up!! Don’t just sit there and allow yourself to die!!
Masurao: He died with his sword, General. I’m just putting him out of his misery now.
Airon could hear their words, but they seemed distant in his mind, estranged from the reality before him which was Masurao’s raised sword. He closed his eyes, but there was no thought of loved ones left behind, or what pain would be felt or damage would be done to his body. In his mind, he was already dead.
????: NOOOOO!!!
The darkness was there, but the pain had yet to leave. Airon sat there in that darkness, confused and scared, wondering what came next. Then, from that darkness, stepped a woman, the same dark-haired woman who haunted his dreams at night. He stared at her, and she did at him, a smile on her face until she began mouthing two words. In his dream-like state, Airon could barely decipher them, but his senses slowly returned and he knew what they were.
????: Go back.
Airon opened his eyes, only to find himself blinded yet again. A moment passed and he realized he could hardly breathe, as well. Another moment helped him realize that both ailments stemmed from the same cause – something was laying over top of him, some exploration of the senses determining it to be a human body, which flung itself between him and Masurao’s bloodstained sword. As it turned out, the scream he heard earlier came from Niyo. The body laying on top of him was Rounin.
Airon: No…Rounin. Rounin, what did you do!? That was mine, don’t take it from me!!
Beneath his shades, even Masurao showed surprise at the older man’s sacrifice. Rounin himself could barely hear any of it. Blood oozed from his open back and his senses began to fade away, but nonetheless, he smiled.
– Eighteen Years Earlier –
Inside the samurai stronghold, a younger Rounin, dressed in full armor and with a not-yet fully grown beard, passed through the massive halls, all those he passed paying their respects to him. With time, he eventually came across a large door, at either side of which stood two older samurai. He bowed to them, as they did to him, before they stepped aside with either handle of the door in hand. When he had gone in, they quickly closed it behind him. Inside was a rather spacious room, decorated with noble décor. It was filled with lit candles and flower bouquets, all from well-wishers to the elderly samurai laying on the large bed, breathing through a heavy apparatus that was set off to the side. Rounin approached him at his bidding, waiting patiently for him to remove the mask so he could see his predecessor’s face. As he did, Mifune gently patted the side of the bed, an invitation for Rounin to sit down.
Rounin: Thank you, General. But I’d rather stand by your bedside than sully your sheets.
Mifune smiled and repeated his offer, at which point, to avoid rudeness, Rounin reluctantly and gently sat on the very edge of the bed. Mifune took another breath through his apparatus before speaking.
Mifune: My advisors informed me of your modesty, Rounin. It seems they were being modest themselves.
He attempted to laugh at his words, but this only produced a loud cough, forcing him to breathe a few more times through his apparatus as Rounin looked on worriedly.
Rounin: General, please. Don’t exert yourself so much.
Mifune: (After catching his breath, he set the mask to his side.) Very well. But in return, I would like you to stop referring to me as General.
Rounin: I can’t do that, sir. I feel dishonorable not acknowledging your title.
Mifune: (He wheezed a laugh as he reached for his apparatus again.) Sir…well, it’s certainly a start.
Rounin just shook his head as Mifune took a few more breaths, deciding for the foreseeable future to appease the old man’s wishes.
Rounin: May I ask why you called me to your chambers…sir?
Mifune laughed again, partly at his insistence on settling with “sir” and also at the rhetoricalness of his question.
Mifune: I thought it obvious when I sent for you. …It’s your name I heard over and over again. “He’s as skilled as you were in your heyday, General Mifune, perhaps even more so.” “He is the perfect choice, General Mifune.” And even after finally giving into their insistences, it wasn’t until now that I sent for my future successor so that we may meet face to face.
Hearing his words, Rounin inspected his superior from head to toe. He did seem to be in worse shape than he anticipated walking through the halls, and his eyes quickly dilated.
Rounin: Sir, are you dying-
Mifune: It’s Mifune, damn it. “Sir” was my father’s name.
Having never heard this particular quip before, Rounin remained confused for a moment as Mifune breathed through his apparatus following this most recent exertion.
Mifune: Yes…I have felt my health slipping more and more over the past few days. So before I lost my chance, I sent for you so we may have at least one chat before the inevitable.
Rounin: (Worry and confusion filled his eyes.) About what, may I ask?
Mifune: (He let forth another wheezing laugh.) About your future as a leader, of course.
He motioned for Rounin to lean forward, so he might speak to him with less volume. Still reluctantly, he obeyed.
Mifune: How old are you, Rounin?
Rounin: Only twenty-one, sir…sorry.
Mifune: It’s alright. I was in my early thirties myself, when my own predecessor passed on. I can’t imagine what that burden must feel like at your young age.
He reached out and put his hand on Rounin’s shoulder before continuing.
Mifune: Fret not. Outside this room and throughout this fortress reside countless samurai willing and ready to serve you as they did me. And put down their lives to protect you if the situation demands it.
Rounin: You don’t need to worry, sir, and neither do they. As general, I would proudly sacrifice my own life before a single warrior in this country perishes on my watch.
He gave this short speech with more passion than was unnecessary. To his surprise, Mifune merely shook his head.
Mifune: This is not your job, Rounin.
Rounin: Sir? …Sorry.
Mifune: (He looked at him with a soft smile.) The job of the older generations is to die for the younger ones. These samurai know this to be true. You may be their leader, but you are also a young man, still full of life when most of them are halfway through theirs. …Cruel as it may sound, you must let them defend their honor by defending you when the time comes. And when you are as old as I, the generations that follow will expect you to do the same.
Rounin looked at him intrigued as he spoke. He slowly started to understand.
Mifune: Know this, Rounin. It is the old and not-so-wise who wage war. Never let the young and prosperous perish in their place. …A father should always die before his sons. Do you understand this?
The son of such a man himself, Rounin did indeed understand this. His face filled with resolve, he abandoned his earlier modesty and took Mifune’s hand, squeezing it in his own.
Rounin: Completely…Mifune.
Mifune smiled up at him as he laid back down on his pillow, tired but satisfied. Then he closed his eyes.
– Present Day –
Rounin closed his eyes, his vision too far gone for them to be of any further use. He used what strength he had to raise his mouth up to Airon’s ear, but when this was done, he had barely enough left to give volume to his final words.
Rounin: The old wage war…so let the old die.
Airon stared at him wide-eyed as his head collapsed over his shoulder. The samurai nearby shed tears, some more visible than others. Masurao, who stood there and watch him die, turned to face them as Airon sat there horrified, unable to shake the corpse now draped his shoulders.
Niyo: YOU BASTAAAARRRDD!!!
Masurao easily brushed Niyo aside and effortlessly cut down the samurai who followed him one after the other. When the final one collapsed, he took to his four remaining subjects – Hedero, Saidai, Mikan and Ichigo.
Masurao: And then there were four.
One by one, the young swordsmen drew their respective swords. Saidai drew Samehada, Mikan drew Kabutowari, Hedero drew Nuibari and being helped to his feet, Ichigo drew Shibuki, his eyes still drying the tears he shed at Ruko’s passing. He waved his sword and a massive length of explosive scroll surrounded them on all sides, its purpose to keep Masurao at bay. But evasion was all but second instinct to Masurao, and with one quick turn of his heel, he reappeared behind Hedero and impaled him with his sword, causing his arm to go limp and Ichigo to fall back to the ground. Mikan charged forward to attack, as she was known to do, but her weapon was quickly knocked from her hand before a swipe of Masurao’s leg brought her to the ground. After another swift disappearance, Masurao reappeared holding the two blades of Kiba. Before Mikan could stand and recuperate, he used one to pin her head to the ground, leaving it there as he turned to face Saidai with the second. Before their duel could even begin, however, Samehada started flailing wildly, trying hard as it could to free itself from Saidai’s grasp and crawl its way over to Masurao. Such was the nature of the sentient blade, as it was known to go after the closest shinobi with the most potent chakra. What it was not capable of, however, was rational thought, or it would’ve known to avoid Masurao, as he would deject it and use the much sharper Kiba to slice it completely in half as its wielder looked on in shock.
Saidai: You fool!! That sword is sacred!!
Masurao: And you say it as if it’s the first time things considered precious were destroyed under such circumstances.
He charges forward, Kiba in one hand and his own blade in the other, but Saidai was quite agile despite his height, allowing him to push back as he dodged his swings, praying that Masurao didn’t resort to common sense and dispatch him with Body Flicker. All the while, Ichigo struggled to return to his feet, and once he did so, waved Shibuki’s scroll around and swung it forward, directly between Saidai and Masurao, the explosives appearing on the side facing the latter. Masurao vanished in the ensuing fire and smoke, only to appear behind Ichigo with his blades held out to sever his head.
Masurao: Forgive me if I now find some pleasure in your death.
Saidai: Ichigo, RUN!!!
Ichigo managed to duck to avoid the initial blow, but as he tried moving away, his eyes fell upon Ruko’s decapitated head once again, causing him to shut them in fear. Seeing his comrade’s immobility and Masurao’s sword held high to impale him, Saidai spent his last moments praying before running forward, leaping over Ichigo as Masurao’s swords impaled his back. Protruding from his chest, the tips of the blades pierced and dragged themselves along Ichigo’s back as Saidai fell off to the side, bringing him great pain but nonetheless sparing his life. As he fell to his side, he stared over at Saidai, beneath whom a massive puddle of blood began to form.
Ichigo: Saidai…why didn’t you run, you idiot!?
Saidai: (Fighting for breath, he gazed over at Ruko’s headless form.) If she were here…she would’ve just done it instead.
Ichigo looked over at Ruko, as well, and through his tears, he understood this to be true. Paying heed to their final moments, Masurao walked over to retrieve his own sword from Saidai’s back, then impaled him through the head to hasten his death.
Masurao: I can concur with that. And so it will be. Ichigo Taizen, your friends’ sacrifice has earned you more time to live. And you, samurai Niyo. I will keep my promise to you for showing courage in defense of your leader.
As Niyo and Ichigo sprawled across the ground, trying to endure the pain of their injuries, Masurao walked over to his third surviving victim and knelt down in front of him. Airon didn’t even have the sensibility to look up.
Masurao: After showing me so much potential in our first meeting, today I can say that I’ve never felt more disappointed. …But, to honor the sacrifice of General Rounin, I will give you one more chance to show me your full potential. Until then, enjoy what remains of your short and pitiful existence.
With a single swing of his sword, Masurao vanished into thin air, leaving the three behind. Voices could be heard in the distance as Niyo stumbled over to Airon, snatching Rounin’s body from his arms.
Niyo: General…Rounin…Rounin!!
Amidst his sadness came an overbearing hatred, and he turned to Airon so he could vent it.
Niyo: What the hell have you done!? He said we could put our faith in you!! SO WHY IS EVERYBODY DEAD!!?
Airon didn’t answer. He just sat there, eyes wide with distress, tormented by the reality of what just occurred.
Airon feels defeat – for the first time in his life!!!
The End
Last edited:
