XII
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Arc XII Chapter 20
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“...” Asami came to rely on her trusted umbrella, deflecting each of his strikes in a swirl of purple and red. Faster, faster, ever faster. The waltz continued. The rhythm accelerated. The pace increased. Left. Right. Centre. Right. Up. Centre. Left. Down. Right. His punches connected, yet every time, they found their match, biting on purple chakra, unyielding like granite.
“Aarrghhh!!!” Naruto rushed her, another careless attempt. Ill conceived and ill advised in nature.
“...” Asami smirked, her left hand angling her umbrella diagonally. Her barrier stood, easily deflecting him, making him ricochet past her. It was a trick that never grew old. Naruto stumbled. He tripped.
Asami spun, striking from behind, striking from above like the hammer of the gods. Brutal and merciless. Her fist accelerated, driven by her abundance of chakra despite the limitations of her delicate physique. He never saw it coming.
Her strike connected and Naruto gasped in pain. The sheer force drove her unsuspecting victim straight into the ground. He never stood a chance. Not his chakra cloak offered adequate protection.
Naruto crashed downwards, and the very ground yielded upon impact. The ground cracked with dust and debris flying everywhere, leaving her old friend in a rather precarious position, to put things mildly, now that his defence had been shattered.
“...” A dark smile crossed Asami’s lips. How truly unfortunate. For him. Her hand reached for her sword, gripping her scabbard, her chakra already coursing through her blade. It would be quick and painless ... A shame that fate had decided to interrupt her once more. A habit that had become a common occurrence these days. More than she liked.
“Aarrghh!!! Take this!” The cry of a girl echoed across the plain, her war fan slicing through the air. “Fuuton!!! Legendary Sickle Weasel Technique!” Temari rejoined the fray, in the nick of time. The girl directed a cyclone of gales against her, from point blank, no less.
Nor was she alone. Kakashi rammed his arms into the earth, his hands gripping the soil. Of course, he didn’t need to be asked twice. He knew when he saw an opportunity. He had smelled blood. “Doton! Earth Spears Release!” His chakra moved the earth, unleashing a cavalcade, a trail of rock and stone on her. Spikes of sharpened, polished rock rose and fell, protruding from the ground like an unstoppable wall of spears.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Fuuton from the front. Doton from behind. Both approached fast, allowing Naruto to escape the steel of her blade.
“...” Asami was forced to act, putting her faith once more in her parasol. In her umbrella she trusted, although by necessity. Her umbrella served as her shield, and her trust proved to be well founded. Her expectations were not disappointed. The wind blades struck hard and fast, each hit in quick succession, each hit deflected by her parasol. One. Two. Three. Five. Eighteen. Thirteen. Seventeen. Apparently, the girl neither cared, nor worried about friendly fire. Temari attacked without caution, without restraint. At least, her aim had improved significantly, sparing Naruto an untimely demise.
Nevertheless, her attack achieved the desired effect, providing Naruto with some much needed breathing space. Temari succeeded in pushing her back in collaboration with Kakashi’s doton, much to Asami’s apparent displeasure. Regretful, but unavoidable.
“...” Asami danced, skilfully sidestepping each and every one of their attacks. No matter how much they threw at her. Left. Right. Left. Right. Their feeble attempts were scarcely enough to humour her. Eventually, their attacks subsided. Neither Kakashi, nor Temari could maintain this momentum, this tempo for long, as they both had reached their limit. Unable to resort to the boundless strength of a bijuu, their attacks had taken a visible toll on them. Neither their stamina, nor their chakra reserves were infinite. Unlike Naruto, who was blessed since birth with the might of the Kyuubi to compensate for his shortcomings, their actions had consequences, consequences that had to be paid for.
“Huh ... Huh ... Huh ... Huh ... Huh ... Huh ...” Kakashi panted, tired, winded, exhausted, destroyed. Yet his eyes never left her. He observed her. He monitored her. Kakashi knew what was at stake. He knew better than anyone else that the line between the triumph of victory and the jaws of defeat was thin, fleeting in nature. It only took a single lapse of judgment, a mere moment, to lose everything. It was a lesson that he took to his heart, unlike a certain other individual present.
“Huh ... Huh ... Huh ...” Temari followed his example. Her tired, heavy body was leaning on her folded war fan, rammed into the ground to support herself.
“Aargh ...” Naruto groaned in pain, barely able to stand, staggered, shaken. His hand reached for his shoulder. Stubborn as usual, Naruto forced himself to rise after having taken another beating. This time, however, her lesson appeared to have more enduring effects. Especially, now, after disrupting Naruto’s chakra. A small dose of hers sufficed to make him understand. The chakra of the Kyuubi weakened, and his influence receded. Naruto’s initial fury had subsided and a glimmer of sane thought returned.
Naruto took his time, but the boy started to learn, even when it was unclear whether his progress was owed to her knocking some sense into him or due to some natural learning process on his part. Personally, she suspected the former, but the undeniable fact remained, though, he had learned. He didn’t charge her. He didn’t attack her like the wild, unhinged beast from before. He had come to realise that he couldn’t take her on head on. And now Naruto stood there, before her, licking his wounds, his raging red eyes glaring daggers at her from afar with all their might in an attempt to murder her on the spot. She was left scarcely impressed. If looks could kill, she would have been dead ages ago.
“...” A conceited smirk crossed Asami’s face, her trusted parasol coming to a rest on her shoulder with the blue blooded grace of a true imperial princess. “Unless I am mistaken, I think your lot has seen better days ...”
“...” Her heart ... Her chakra ... The pain ... Asami gripped her chest, her heart, her breathing intensifying. Yet she retained her countenance, her composure, ever a true princess down to the bone. No matter how strained her smile, no matter how thin the veneer of her façade might be, she endured.
Her chakra wavered, disturbed, disrupted, impossible to stabilise. This poor excuse of a body had reached its limit. It had lasted longer than initially anticipated, but the moment had finally come. Her liberal use of chakra combined with the fatigue of battle had taken its toll. This body had reached the tipping point with catastrophic results. This body was collapsing, withering, disintegrating, like the snow under the summer sun. It wouldn’t last much longer.
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