Takuma had a particular way of initiating combat. He preferred giving his opponents the first move unless he knew beforehand that it would put him at a disadvantage. There was much to learn from how a person opened a fight. But if his opponent didn't grab the initiative he offered, Takuma would generally go for the first strike.

He intended to do the same with Viper. After a long-drawn introduction (every ninjutsu category fight was accompanied with extra fanfare), the announcer stepped out, and the moment the bell rang, Takuma walked towards the center of the arena. Viper followed the same, and the distance between them narrowed. When the distance was appropriate, Takuma offered an invitation by opening himself, giving Viper an opportunity to attack. It was walking the line between tempting and taunting— which he found was the most effective to get someone to attack you.

Viper's stance changed. She upped her speed a level, but didn't jump on the opportunity as many would. She had accepted the initiative but at her own pace. Level-headed, Takuma added a label to the woman.

Takuma equipped a kunai each in his hand; simultaneously, senbon appeared between Viper's fingers, which she launched with zero-point delay. Instinct took over him as he jumped to the side to evade the long needles. Senbon were annoyingly difficult to dodge at close range— they were fast, their small size made them difficult to block without a shield, and they could easily slip through gaps in armor when used by an expert.

Takuma jumped to the side with a dodge roll. He didn't stop and initiated another roll. A wise decision as another volley of senbon struck the space he had vacated. Using the momentum, he kicked himself to his feet, twisted to face Viper, and threw the kunai at her. He was one beat slower than her as she released her senbon before he threw his kunai.

Takuma dodged the senbon he could and used his sturdy arm vambrace to intercept those he could not. The sharp needles dug pinholes into the leather but couldn't break skin due to the tight wrapping beneath it. He breathed a sigh as he pulled the needles out before reequipping kunai.

Viper had effortlessly dodged the kunai. She wouldn't have been here if she wasn't able to. She grabbed one of Takuma's thrown kunai and charged for him.

The two clashed. Viper used her open hand to grab onto one of Takuma's hands, but their other hands clashed with their kunai's sparking. Near constant movement during battle was beaten into every shinobi, but the fight in the cage came to a standstill as only their arms moved in blurred motions of thrusts, stabs, and parries, trying to stab the other.

Takuma let go of the kunai in his grabbed hand and gripped Viper's wrist, pulling her down. With the posture disrupted, Takuma pushed her kunai-bearing away before stabbing down for the shoulder.

It was in that exact moment where Viper contorted her body in an eerie fashion. She let herself fall, getting herself completely out of the kunai's route, making Takuma miss.

She dropped the kunai and grabbed Takuma's arm with both arms, and used the momentum to pull him to the ground.

Takuma knew what would happen before Viper's limbs slid around his body to put him into a hold. He couldn't let that happen. Before Viper could solidify her hold, Takuma made an awkward move he wasn't used to. He concentrated his chakra into his elbow and thrust it back in an augmented strike. The pointy elbow hit her on the top of her arm, making her grip loosen, allowing him to slip out.

He bit his lip behind his mask. Punches, palm strikes, kicks, he could do— knee strikes were doable if he was in perfect posture— but elbow strikes were yet to be added to his augmented repertoire.

The pain in his elbow spiked when he moved it. It was by no means out-of-commission, and he could tell the pain would subside eventually on its own, but the fights were usually short enough that he wouldn't feel any noticeable difference until after. It was an annoyance that had the potential to be the deciding factor in his loss, but Takuma wasn't worried about it— only that he had been injured so soon after the start.

'I need to change the momentum.' The short exchange was filled with information Takuma could use from now on.

Moreover, unlike him, Viper had been in ninjutsu-category fights.

Takuma raised his hand, ignoring the pain in his elbow, and began forming hand seals.

It was time to use his advantage known as the unknown.

———

.

In the VIP fighter booth, Slash Baron leaned forward in interest as Takuma weaved hand seals. "Oh, he's using it already? That's fast… I guess that's to be expected by a rookie like him."

From personal experience as a spectator and participant in ninjutsu-category fights (and numerous skirmishes on real battlefields,) shinobi were stringent with using ninjutsu. Chakra management was a very real and very important factor in attaining a victory— which was why shinobi had to play a very careful game of speculation on how and when to expend chakra so as to not run out of it before the opponent. Failure to do so was one of the leading causes of death on the battlefield.

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"Isn't it fine? The fights here end up fairly quickly. They don't have to save up."

Slash Baron glanced at Sango. She was one of his several informants inside the Hidden Leaf. Sango was special due to her position and association. Not only was she an apprentice to Chunin Enomoto, who was a fairly big player in the drug business inside the Hidden Leaf, but she also worked in the Ring because of Enomoto's position.

Initially, he approached her and converted her so they could keep an eye on Enomoto as he began to make moves and waves, but her role had also expanded into being an observer inside the Ring. Slash Baron liked working with her. She was good at her job, had close to no bad habits or vices which interfered with her work, and their relationship as handler-and-informant was fairly straightforward, which spared them from tip-toeing around each other with the exhausting thoughts of being betrayed.

Moreover, she was a pretty damn good healer. If she weren't working under Enomoto, who only offered Ring professional exposure instead of hospitals, research facilities, or field missions as other iryo-nin teachers did, Sango would've already been close to being promoted to chunin. Despite that, from what he knew, her promotion was at most one year away.

The thought of her promotion made him sigh internally. Her promotion meant the end of their relationship as it would mean she would no longer apprentice under Enomoto and would also leave the Ring. Their deal was that in return for spying on Enomoto, they would pull strings and put her into a position of her preference after her promotion.

He had agreed, thinking that it would be a while until that day arrived, if ever, but who would've thought that she would come out on her own as an iryo-nin? After all, chunin iryo-nin were another grade of rare. In fact, if Slash Baron was still in his current place of occupation for the next few years, he was not against recommending her as a potential recruit for the division. That's how good he believed she was.

"Habits sneak in, when you're not paying attention," Slash Baron said as he observed the fight.

Arcs of lightning crackled out of Takuma's hands, accumulating in his palm before shooting toward Viper. 'That's pathetic,' he thought. It was too weak. If that was the best Takuma could do, he might as well stick to the style he used weapons-category.

He continued, "For Ring fighters, a majority of their combat experience comes from the Ring. Experience is good, but you have to be careful how it affects you." He looked up at the cage around the arena. "The size of the arena, the cage restricting the space, absence of armor, all of these things mold combat styles more than people realize they do. Real life is different. The ground isn't always so flat and even, spectators don't drown every other sound, and the opponents aren't always alone— once you get comfortable, those come biting back. Anyone who stays in Ring long enough participates in hundreds of fights without armor. Eventually, everyone realizes that due to the lack of any armor, being aggressive is the best practice, as one well-placed hit can change the direction of the fight and end it quickly. They forget that it's not like that in the field— they become reckless, and when that one momentum-changing hit doesn't pan out, they expose themselves to a deadly strike by a prepared enemy. It's surprisingly common how many people end up converting 'Ring fights are fairly short' to 'fights are fairly short.'"

Slash Baron felt a phantom pain a couple of inches below his heart. He momentarily closed his eyes as the memories of a cold enemy sword barely missed his heart. The injury had been soon healed, and any scar inside or out had been cleared away by a highly-skilled iryo-nin several years ago. The memory, however, remained in his mind as a scar that couldn't be erased.

He had fixed those bad habits. But he knew several who hadn't and had lost their lives. He didn't need to look back to bet good money that several of the 'top fighters' sitting behind him would show those same bad habits if they were made to fight.

"Ideally, a shinobi should have a usable amount of reserves left after an encounter to account for unexpected complications that may arise." He looked at Sango and could tell that she was no longer interested in what he was saying. All iryo-nin were like that.

———

.

"Looks like your pick is going to lose, Enomoto. Badly at that. And here I thought you were some sort of Ring expert."

Enomoto chuckled with a hearty smile. "We never know. The momentum can change until the very last moment." But inside, he was seething like bubbling oil.

He didn't need to peer between their words, whispers, and titters to realize he was perhaps the least influential person inside the group. Unlike their distinguished backgrounds, he came from a humble background of genin parents who retired as soon as possible and shifted into business.

They were probably thinking that they were better than him. These people knew nothing! He didn't have their privilege. He had to put in real work to reach his position. What did they know about the countless sleepless nights and tired days he had put in. He had gotten his hands dirty to make connections they had been given without an iota of effort.

He was a hundred times better than all of these people!

He clenched his fist, digging his nails into the flesh to maintain his smile. Usually, he had no problem keeping his emotions deep down, but today they seemed overly enthusiastic to come out.

"We can always cancel the bet. It doesn't feel fair. I heard only one in ten rookies win their first fight in the ninjutsu category. How about it?"

Enomoto glanced, keeping his relaxed face plastered on his face. "Once a bet is sealed, it's rude to take it back. I… just can't help but side with the underdog, so even if Scars losses, I will take the loss graciously."

The man scoffed as if bored by Enomoto's reaction before turning away to watch the fight.

'Bullshit,' Enomoto jeered internally. He couldn't give two dirty shits about underdogs or favorites. He liked the winning side and only that. If someone with a winning history went into a slump, he would abandon them without hesitation. People were only good as long as until they were useful.

He looked down at Takuma, who shot a weak lightning bolt a third time, and for the third time, Viper dodged it effortlessly.

'He's so bad,' Enomoto's eyes turned cold.

Takuma's performance wasn't inspiring confidence. What if he was like this at his job in the Police Force? What if his thing with Maiko Triad was luck, and he was going to give him crap results.

'If he can't do it properly with all the help I'm giving,' Enomoto looked down at Takuma.

Then he was going to the shitter.