"Every challenge along the way, with courage I will face…"
A.N. Stoneificaunt, an OC based on your submission will be serving Sunagakure in the Chunin exams. Thanks, Stoneificaunt!
If anyone else is interested, there's still plenty of space open in the chunin exams. And if I can't make enough OCs on my own or with help, I'm gonna have to start feeding Gaara canon characters to keep him happy… Think of the children, my readers! Do it for the children!
Those of you who've been eagerly awaiting some epic battles are in luck! This entire chapter is one big fight!
"Kami damn it!"
Zabuza made to crush the binoculars in his fist, but managed to control his temper enough to spare the delicate and expensive equipment. It was hard enough to find a competent lens grinder when they weren't ruining their products because the presence of a missing-nin was making their hands shake.
Instead, a potted plant went soaring off toward the horizon. The owner of the house whose roof the mist ninja were hiding on was not going to be happy about that. Not that he could do anything but replace the plant, but he wasn't going to be happy.
"What is it, sensei?" Haku rescued the binoculars and took a look through the right lens himself (the left met his eye patch), but couldn't see anything worth that response.
"There were maybe eight people in Kiri I could stand to be around by the time I left," the rogue jonin growled, "Counting you three. And down there is one of them. Fuji Hikaru. Last I saw him, though, he had black hair, a few more scars, and was filing low-security paperwork for the Fourth Mizukage. But if Konoha trusts him with a genin team, he was never loyal to Kirigakure. Figures he was feeding treehuggers information; he was too damn nice for hidden mist. We're gonna have to adjust our plans."
"So we aren't gonna kill him?" Gozu asked nervously, "Holding a jonin is a lot tougher than a couple o' genin…"
"Naw, we're still gonna kill him," confirmed the assassin, "I'm just not gonna enjoy it like I was hoping."
"Since you know him, do you have any tactical recommendations?" Haku laid a hand over a storage scroll holstered at his hip, "I think I could get one of them from here."
"Stealth approach won't work," Zabuza cautioned, waving his apprentice down, "He's a former mist ninja and a chakra sensor. He knows how our stealth jutsu work, and we won't be getting the drop on him without them."
"What about a chakra-less first strike? I've got that crossbow from Gato's warehouse," suggested Haku, "Even if he's a sensor, he won't see that coming easily."
"Hmh. Unlikely to hit him, and we've only got one shot. Crossbow takes too long to reload," analyzed the swordsman, "Try crippling one of the genin. I'm pretty sure I can take Hikaru one-on… two-on-one, so I want you all to concentrate on reducing the potential wild cards. Nothing does collateral damage and chaos like panicking genin you can't afford to kill."
The first signs of trouble Team Seven had were when a low, buzzing whine escorted a heavy bolt into Sasuke's right shoulder. The young Uchiha reflexively secured himself to the boardwalk with chakra, a strangled hiss escaping his throat, which turned out to be a serious mistake. Unable to release its momentum by throwing Sasuke to the ground, the bolt snapped his collarbone with a sharp 'crack!' That was enough to make him scream, but he still kept enough wits to pull Naruto down behind a street vendor's cart with a shouted "Get down!"
The civilians thronging the docks, no fools they, were already rapidly vanishing, the fleeing crowds briefly immobilizing Sakura and Hikaru, but screening them from their attackers. In theory. In practice, it also made them stationary targets.
Having seen such tactics before, during a mission in Iwa, Hikaru wasn't exactly surprised when a massive, orange-brown claw burst through the docks under his feet and tried to snap his ankles like twigs. Although, the melee attack was refreshingly less dangerous to the surrounding noncombatants than the wide-angle earth jutsu the stone ninja had used. The jonin evaded the clumsy strike with inches to spare, already drawing his chain whip from under his belt.
And a good thing too, because their attackers covered that avenue of escape with a barrage of kunai and senbon. If he hadn't had something in hand to deflect them, he might as well have stayed down there with the summon. Speaking of the summon, the claw turned out to be attached to an equally enormous, spiny crab that scaled the hole with an ungainly clatter and struck out with its other claw, this one smaller and thus arguably more dangerous. It wouldn't do as much damage as the big claw, but it moved far too fast to deal with in mid-air, while under fire.
The jonin felt his lower back light up with fiery spikes of pain as the crustacean backhanded him into a sprawl several yards away. Reacting on instinct to the shadow and murderous chakra above him, Hikaru threw himself to the side, free hand completing a substitution jutsu just in time for an empty barrel to be smashed into kindling instead of his… everything. If he got hit by that sword, it wouldn't matter how sharp it was. Momochi Zabuza. And a very large, very angry crab summon.
Sorry kids, Hikaru mentally apologized as he dragged himself to his feet and shook out his whip, I don't think I'll be able to help you until I deal with this guy… assuming I survive.
"Sasuke! Crap, crap! Uh, Hokori, Ha, keep us covered!" Naruto dug through his pouch for his medical scroll, producing it after some fumbling, "Damn it, jerk, I thought you were supposed to be too good to get cheap shotted!"
"Feels barbed," Sasuke gritted, hands twitching with the effort needed to keep from clasping his shoulder, and probably aggravating the wound, "Don't pull it out. Bleed twice as much."
"Damn. This is gonna suck, then," Naruto slipped the handle of a kunai between Sasuke's teeth, and cut the shaft off as close to the head as he could, before cutting away the Uchiha's sleeve and starting to wrap the injury as best he could. "This should hold, but try not to use this arm too much, okay? You could drive it deeper."
"Tell me something I don't know," the injured genin growled, forcing himself to his feet. He tried to move his right arm, but after a few inches grimaced and let it hang limp. He tore the awning off the stand they were sheltering behind, and used it to improvise a sling with one hand, using chakra to hold it still while he tied the knots. "Broken. Not the arm, maybe shoulder? I… think you're gonna have to take point this time, idiot."
'Thump!' Several boards under their feet dished upwards as something rammed the sturdy wood. Naruto's eyes flashed between the massive hole further out, the giant crab menacing their sensei, and the damage beneath their feet. Quickly coming to an alarming conclusion, he pulled a full-powered explosive tag from his pouch, slapped it on an empty ration tin that he figured might float, and shoved it through one of the new cracks in the floor. Trusting Jiraiya's gift to at least slow their attacker down, the jinchuriki wrapped his arm around Sasuke's uninjured side and bodily hauled him back to what would hopefully be a safe distance. However, Naruto had never detonated an explosive tag underwater before. The loud noise was expected.
The humongous plume of water was not. Startled fish and water rained down around them, followed by a much larger, and meaner looking fish. This one had a round body, a cross-shaped scar on its chin, and a mouth of jagged fangs, all of which Naruto got a very good look at as it plummeted toward his face. Fortunately for him, the fish was propelled by gravity, rather than anything that would let it steer itself. The genin were able to duck out of the way, the evil-looking fish instead taking an effortless, daunting chunk out of the wood of the stall, before boring through the dock and to safety with another bite. "What the heck kind of fish was that?!"
"How should I know, idiot? I- Gah!" Now it was Sasuke's turn to save Naruto, as he yanked him out of the way of what looked like a wall of incoming senbon. The pair looked at each other, and then over to the intimidating, blank mask of their assailant, who already had another double handful of needles at the ready. Then a scream rent the air. "Sakura!"
"Lady Sakura! Oh, no! Hokori, you need to go help her!" Ha made a split second decision, gesturing with his nail, "Move it, you overgrown reptile!"
"But… That guy big bro's facing looks really strong! I gotta help him!" The dratini argued, "He'll get hurt! Or-or-"
"I'll stay and help," the ralts stated, "I know heal pulse," Mostly. He'd never used it in combat before, but he knew the theory and was probably powerful enough to pull it off. He hoped. "So I'll be better with the injured people! But sensei's busy with the other jonin and the Kingler, and Sakura's all alone! You wanna leave her alone against Arceus knows what?!"
"O-oh! Right!" Hokori coiled himself and leaped from the roof, bounced off an awning to bleed off momentum, and saw Sakura being menaced by two (Two! Crap!) Guys, one with claws, and one a mudkip. Humans came with claws? No, not the time to think about it.
Hoping for a decisive first strike, the dragon charged a crackling ball of dragon rage on his tail, sending tingles up his body, and hurled it at the enemy human. Dragon rage worked a lot better against weak enemies, and against a genin (which he fervently hoped he was facing), one hit would be plenty. Jonin could take dozens of hits, but he wouldn't be hitting one of those so easily anyway.
The orb of energy hit square in the human's back, but he staggered without falling. Stronger than a usual genin, but not as awesome as a jonin. So, chunin maybe? Either way, not good. Except that Sakura, panting heavily and bleeding from a dozen or so minor wounds, took the opportunity to kick him between the legs with the strength of adrenalin-fueled desperation. Even chakra reinforcement and armor can only do so much against a hit in the right place. The enemy fell to his knees with a shocked whine, allowing Sakura to kick him again, in the head. He dropped like a rock.
"Brother!" A nigh-identical man jumped out of concealment, shock and concern in his eyes, and headed straight for Sakura. The mudkip, having barely reacted to its partner's abrupt defeat, blocked Hokori off when he tried to reinforce her. Well, at least the odds weren't two to one anymore, and he'd managed to keep Naruto and Sasuke from getting ambushed. Again.
Meanwhile, Ha explored his feelings. No, really. A ralts' power is linked to their emotions and the emotions around them, and specific feelings are tied to some moves. Heal pulse, a move that can restore the health and vitality of others, is tied to love, compassion, and empathy. Having spent most of his time with Sasuke and Naruto, though, the psychic was experiencing something of a shortage.
Determination, anger, hatred, loyalty, and embarrassment he had in abundance, great for offensive and defensive moves. But Sasuke really only cared about his close family, Naruto, and Ha himself, and Naruto for all his good intentions had a very small circle of friends and semi-family. And of happiness, the best, most universal psychic fuel? He got that from Hokori and Naruto. Sometimes. If he was lucky. Or Naruto managed to ramen himself into a food coma.
With Naruto, ramen could in fact be a verb. He made it work.
Ha thought he'd finally managed to pull a heal pulse together. More or less. He was at least certain it wouldn't make things worse. Most of his concentration on the flickering, hard-to-control technique, he turned toward Sasuke, and released a fuzzy wave of warm, purple energy. Halfway to its intended target, though, a slight, white and purple being floated out through the walls of a nearby house and blocked the healing move with its body! A ghost type. And not one Ha recognized.
The ralts didn't think he had enough positive feelings for another heal pulse, not that he could easily get one around the speedy ghost anyway. So it was time to fight. At a type disadvantage. Well, nobody ever said being a Sword of Justice (in training) was easy.
The executioner's blade seemed to cleave the air itself as Zabuza swung it in a wide arc, the bloodthirsty sword only arriving after Hikaru ducked by virtue of being a very slow weapon. It was obviously designed for power, not speed. Rather than standing again, or retreating (both sensible options when faced with one of the Seven Blades of Hidden Mist, especially the latter), the Konoha jonin skidded closer on a cushion of chakra and swept one leg up in a move equal parts bastardized Strong Fist and Shark Dragon-style kung fu to catch Zabuza in the neck.
The rogue ninja was forced back exactly one step. Kicking him in the throat felt like hitting the massive, seal and steel reinforced basalt block Konoha's intelligence division used to backstop experimental jutsu tests. Zabuza's chakra reinforcement was insane! Also, his crab summon was aiming for a cheap shot. But, kingler can't learn sucker punch.
Hikaru leaped to his feet and whirled around. The whip in his right hand slashed into the incoming crabhammer with an explosive 'hisssss-Crack!' accompanying a burst of purple light that knocked the heavy blow wide. His off hand sent a volley of dark senbon toward Zabuza's vital points, which ordinarily wouldn't be a problem for the mist ninja. But, Zabuza was off balance from his missed attack and the throat kick. He couldn't just shelter behind kubikiribocho, because he didn't have enough time to recover his stance. Wielding such a large weapon wasn't all upside. The assassin was forced into an undignified scramble for cover.
With Zabuza very temporarily out of the fight, the Konoha jonin engaged the summon, ducking and weaving around a few swipes with the lighter claw to slam home a vicious, close range taijutsu combo that briefly staggered the hefty Pokémon. The kingler fired back with a second crabhammer, instinctively falling back on its strongest move, but by the time he chambered the mighty blow, Hikaru was already most of the way through a sealless body flicker that gained him distance in a burst of pink smoke. Even as he landed, the jonin's hands were already flashing through hand signs, his whip stashed on a nearby shipping crate.
Most people, when confronted with a superior opponent, in numbers or raw power, will fight defensively. If you can't afford to take many hits, it's logical and instinctive to focus on defending yourself. It will also get you killed.
Hikaru was confident in his skills, but he was fully aware that he was pretty average as far as combat-focused jonin are concerned. His high A rank came from the fact that he was an excellent infiltrator who also had solid combat skills, a rare combination. Most powerful warriors aren't great at subtle, and most tricky, sneaky types suffer when forced into a direct confrontation.
Zabuza, in contrast, was widely known to have combat skills on par with the best in the world, paired with matchless stealth. The only reason the man wasn't an S-ranked ninja was that he'd never bothered to polish his other support skills beyond the basics. If Zabuza went on the offensive, Hikaru simply could not stand against him for long. However, Zabuza also had a key weakness, one his opponent was all too happy to exploit.
Zabuza liked challenging fights. He liked them so much, in fact, that whenever he was given half a chance he'd delegate battles he knew he could win to his subordinates, as training opportunities and because they weren't worth his time. Valid arguments, but they also meant that Zabuza had very little experience countering the best tactics for taking on a superior opponent.
Hikaru, who'd survived encounters with Rasa, then jonin of Suna and now Kazekage, and Kitsuchi, jonin-commander of Iwagakure, was intimately familiar with how to deal with being outclassed. As long as he wasn't so overpowered, outnumbered, and outsped that he couldn't even try to fight back, which he wasn't, there were a few things he could do.
The most important thing to remember was keep attacking. All the strength in the world is useless if you're busy keeping the other guy from killing you. If you'll inevitably be outpowered, attack early, attack often, and keep attacking. If you can keep them off balance and on the defensive, you'll often win before your foes can get their act together.
Of course, Hikaru hadn't thought of all this on the spot. As he battled Zabuza, his thoughts were much closer to 'Holy Arceus I'm gonna die kill them first attack attack attack!' than a sophisticated deconstruction of his own combat philosophy.
Even as Zabuza and his summon tried to pull themselves together, Hikaru was already attacking again. Never give a superior foe time to recover. Finishing his signs, the leaf ninja spat a massive ball of roiling, orange-white fire wreathed in dark red flames which vaguely resembled the head of the mythical dragon that was said to have inspired his favorite kung fu style.
Master of water or not, water type or not, a furious, infernal garchomp head aimed for your face demands respect. Unable to dodge in time, Zabuza sheltered behind his sword, the fire jutsu heating the blade to a dull glow and raising blisters along the mist ninja's arms and shoulders. His kingler, even less protected from the blast despite his type advantage, was blown backwards with a dismayed, bubbling rattle, leaving a sizable hole in the warehouse behind it. Any normal sword would have been wrecked by the heat, its temper ruined forever. The legendary kubikiribocho kept its temper and its edge, but the creaks that emanated from it as it started to cool showed that it wasn't exactly happy about the situation either.
Not that Zabuza was feeling much better. Those burns hurt like hell, and were going to slow him down. He wasn't sure he could afford that anymore, because when the hell did Hikaru the desk jockey get this good? Back in Kiri he could barely manage a few fire bullets and now he can throw a freaking Dragon Head Bomb and keep fighting?!
If he'd been thinking clearly, Zabuza would have realized what Hikaru knew, that the jonin from leaf was burning chakra as fast as he could just to match his opponent's physical skills. Fortunately for Hikaru, on fire and in melee is not the best place to be strategizing, and as Zabuza blocked another chain whip strike backed with a pulse of purple energy, critical thinking was the last thing on his mind. He was more concerned with swearing as the blade of chakra (Was that yin chakra? How the hell was he using that for physical attacks?) gouged a furrow in kubikiribocho's fire-weakened steel.
Arms feeling like they were still burning, Zabuza tried to go on the offensive, but his agile opponent danced around each cut, his return strikes carving bloody lines into the mist ninja's body. It seemed that most of Zabuza's speed wasn't enough to tag Hikaru. Ninjutsu might work better, but Zabuza needed both hands for his sword, and he couldn't move fast enough to disengage. Sounds from the damaged warehouse told him his partner wasn't incapacitated, but he couldn't help until he cleared enough of the debris to squeeze out.
Then Zabuza had an idea. Kubikiribocho, for all its mass, doesn't have an especially large danger zone for any given attack. It might be big, and long, but the edge itself is thin. Thanks to the constraints of its size and shape, there are a very limited number of ways to swing it at somebody. Ordinarily, this isn't much of a problem. Unless he was fighting samurai or cloud ninja, Zabuza didn't need a lot of kenjutsu finesse. But Hikaru knew what he was doing, and Zabuza wasn't able to fight at full speed at the moment. As long as he used it as a sword, he'd never land a telling blow. So what would happen if he struck with the extremely wide flat of his sword? It wouldn't do as much damage, but it'd be a lot harder to dodge.
This time, as he brought kubikiribocho around in a sweeping arc, he adjusted his grip slightly, presenting two feet of battle-scarred steel instead of three inches of edge. Hikaru, eyes wide, leaped for the safety distance would afford. But kubikiribocho is eight feet long when fully assembled, and Hikaru wasn't that fast.
Zabuza ended his swing with his legendary sword resting awkwardly on the ground, his burns making its usual resting place on his shoulder unpalatable. Hikaru ended crumpled against a nearby wall, nursing what looked to the mist ninja like a nasty compound fracture. Funny thing was, Zabuza could have sworn he heard his opponent scream in pain as kubikiribocho hit him, but Hikaru's mouth hadn't so much as twitched. Maybe he had some Yamanaka in his family tree… That would explain the yin release. Yamanaka were good at blurring the line between physical and mental techniques.
While Zabuza theorized on the pedigree of his old frenemy, a psychic pulse of emotion painfeardespair washed over the land of waves, if anyone despairfailedthem was listening to pick it up. No humans did; the human psychics of the Yamanaka clan were all an ocean away. A psychic Pokémon could hear it. Ha might have perceived it, in gonnadieallgonnadie theory. In practice, a ralts' psychic sensitivity isn't all that impressive, and what little his horns did pick up was failedthemlost suppressed by his subconscious to protect him from the ravages of power in excess of what he was capable of withstanding.
The few Team Rocket operatives on the island with psychic partners, and there were only a few as psychic types are hard to raise and the Team had only managed to save a breeding population of drowzee and bronzor anyway, did notice. If only because their partners twitched, seized up, and fainted under lostkilledfaileddobetter the raw, unbridled despair, shot through with self-flagellation and fear-for-friends. When they awoke, they would remember little of what they had experienced. The drowzee that did remember a bit likened the experience to getting run down by a cargo ship at night; big, dark, and impossible to stop.
Deep in the forests outside the Land of Waves' only city, something else picked up the cry. It heard. It heard the call of a mentor and protector, desdespairpairing that his power had proved insufficient against the perils he must prepare his charges to face. It also heard the silence of the grove it rested in, broken only by the song of a bird perched on the shrine above it. It listened, and it remembered.
It remembered the days before Gato came, when children played in the grove, climbed over its slumbering body, learned their lessons at its feet. Now they sat in schools, and though they learned many of the same things, their thoughts were of profit, and power. The adults and parents who prayed and taught at shrine, the aging priest who tended to the ancient Buddha that sat on its back, they now worked the docks and factories day in and day out. By the night, they had no time, no energy to return to the shrine, or even the wilds.
The priest had died seasons ago, before Gato came, and the being under the shrine felt that was for the best, even if it missed the company. He wouldn't have wanted to see what had become of their home. It had no problem with industry, quite the opposite in fact, but Gato's mind was money. Money and power. So that was what he passed on to those who followed him. With his strength of personality and political experience, that was a lot of people. Charisma, money, and power are very appealing.
The being knew its opinions were old-fashioned, even by the standards of the society it was born in. So what? It was nearly three thousand years old; it was fully entitled to a rosy view of the past. But it was of the opinion that there was more to wealth than money. Gato couldn't see that, and he was driving the Land of Waves to ruin.
However, Gato was also giving the people of Wave what they wanted. Wealth, more advanced technology, luxury goods they didn't need but most certainly wanted, political power the tiny country hadn't had in over two thousand years… Gato promised, and he delivered. All for the low, low price of everything good about the previous society.
But it was what they wanted. And so, whatever its philosophical disagreements, the being under the shrine held its peace. Unless Gato became truly oppressive, and in the sanctum of its thoughts, the being thought it was more like until, the being would not act. Freedom of choice is the right of all sentient beings, even those as… limited as humans.
That psychic cry changed things, gave it a reason to act. It didn't recognize the voice, but that there was a voice at all was the point. The being had resigned itself to a largely solitary, meditative life centuries ago, as the last remnant of a long-dead era. If that cry emanated from anything but a human, though, then perhaps its past wasn't as dead as it had believed.
Even if it was a human, now that it was awake, the being felt inclined to act. Reading the psychic signature of the mind behind the burst of emotions, it felt sure that whoever had produced it was pure of heart and positive of intent, at least as much as living creatures could manage. They were someone worth saving, maybe even a Chosen. The world always desperately needed more of those.
Besides, the being had been lazing around here for longer than recorded human history. Mourning had its place, but the people it mourned had been bones and dust for millennia. Stretching the old plates and doing something heroic again would feel good.
Thus resolved, the shrine trembled, and it creaked. The dirt and moss of two thousand years sloughed off its form. And the shrine stood, and it began to move, and the earth shook with the weight of ages gone, but not quite forgotten.
TOOM!
TOOM!
TOOM!
TOOM!
Ha was not having a good day. The ralts usually enjoyed a challenging fight, to test his skills against a superior foe and (so far, at least) come out on top. The ghost type, apparently a 'froslass' (whatever that was), thankfully didn't seem know shadow ball or phantom force. At least, it hadn't used either on him. Maybe it thought he could evade targeted attacks too easily.
But it did have ominous and icy wind. Which it mixed together. And even though he could teleport, an amorphous wall of icy sleet and ghostly fumes was rather hard to dodge. He'd already taken a hit, and didn't think he could handle another.
Worse still, the ghost coordinated excellently with its human partner, soon switching off so the human could pepper him with needles almost faster than he could see while the ghost wore down Naruto and Sasuke with attacks they couldn't dodge. Ha was pretty sure this was what they were doing, but he couldn't be sure, because his opponents had figured out that in unfamiliar places like this his teleportation was strictly line-of-sight. If he couldn't see Sasuke, he couldn't teleport to him because he might materialize inside a solid object, which would kill the ralts instantly.
Also, in addition to the icy ominous wind and a few fairy attacks from the one time he got close to the ghost, he'd taken a few needles. Only three, while by the sounds and emotions he was picking up Sasuke and Naruto had taken dozens apiece. But they also both had over a hundred pounds on him. Those things were a serious threat to his life! The only reason he was still alive is that teleporters are very hard to hit, even if you're ludicrously fast or have wide area attacks.
He was tiring, though, and losing blood. He didn't have a whole lot to lose, and things were getting bad. At this point, he was pretty much reduced to frantically dodging attacks, and hoping for a lucky nail hit on the hu- human!
Panting for breath, his limbs feeling like lead, Ha threw himself under a sweeping punch, the human's knuckles studded with senbon. That was actually encouraging. When the fight started, the human would barrage him from multiple angles using dozens of thrown needles and extremely fast movements. Now he rarely threw, and got much closer, without the speed jutsu. Maybe he was getting tired too, or just running low on ammunition. But for whatever reason, he was getting closer and moving slower.
Opportunity. Time to do something brilliant. Or stupid, depending on how well it worked.
Rather than backing off or trying to stab the enemy ninja's foot again, Ha jumped up, latched onto his loose pants, and started climbing, using his nail and a senbon as climbing spikes. The human was clearly not happy about this turn of events, as he (she?) yelled and did a frantic little dance, trying to dislodge him. But the needle caught in the ninja's thigh, giving Ha enough purchase to stab his nail into the other side of the thick muscle, and he held on with grim determination.
"Gah, get off! Get- Ow! Son of a-" the ninja reached down for Ha, radiating surprise, and the plucky psychic yanked his borrowed needle out and thrust it deep into the human's hand. But the rogue ninja kept coming, and wrapped a hand around Ha's body, pulling him and his nail up to eye level. So naturally Ha tried a thrust to the eye that made the human flinch back. The human's mask held up against the thick, iron point, but he loosened his grip enough for Ha to grab the nail with both hands and stab down at the hand that trapped him with both hands for maximum power. Apparently acting on reflex, the human flung Ha away. But his nail stayed stuck in the human's wrist.
Not thrilled about being unarmed, Ha picked up one of the senbon littering the area as he rolled to his feet. Weapon, good. But the nail. He had to get his sword back. What kind of Sword of Justice loses their sword?! Plus, the needle didn't have an edge, only a point, and no grip. The nail was clearly superior.
Then the enemy ninja yanked the nail out of his bleeding wrist, and held the sharpened shard of metal up to his eyes, head swiveling between it and Ha. The psychic breathed a discreet sigh of relief as the human's grip shifted. He was an honorable enemy, after all. Since Ha had survived that truly hair-brained attack, he wasn't trying to kill them. Surely an honorable enemy would return the sword of-
The ninja, mild irritation suffusing his emotions, grasped the nail in both hands. And he snapped it. He snapped the nail.
He snapped the nail.
Apparently and strangely ignorant of the magnitude of his sins, because the guy (girl? It was hard to tell under that mask) seemed otherwise rather perceptive, the human tossed the broken (He snapped the nail.) nail to the side and drew more senbon from his belt.
But these senbon abruptly glowed purple, wrenched themselves from the bastard's hands and buried themselves in his side. Because Ha, as something filled him with warmth and strength and a strange-feeling state of clear, crystalline thoughts, suddenly wasn't nearly as tired as he'd thought he was. And the enemy wasn't looking as intimidating either; he looked smaller and less sure of himself, and his emotional control seemed to have slipped. Before, all Ha could get from his opponent was really strong emotions like anger and resolve, but now he was seeing a full spectrum. That could only be a good thing. When enemies lose control of their emotions and you do not, he remembered the gallade that taught him the basics of the sword saying, they will soon lose control of the battle as well.
As Sasuke would say if he was a bit less up-tight, it's vengeance time. You snapped my sword. I'm going to snap you.
"What the- You can talk?!" If Ha had been thinking more clearly, what the masked ninja said might have raised some questions. However, he was steaming mad and riding the high from an incredibly awesome-feeling second wind.
I'll start with some bones.
Uchiha Sasuke was feeling rather discombobulated. He wasn't panicking, though, because Uchiha don't panic.
Even though he was all the way over here, and his body was all the way over there, it was still breathing so there was no way he was dead. Even if the movement was so slight it took the Sharingan to pick it up. He wasn't dead. He wasn't.
Except Naruto could only see the Sasuke over there, the one that he apparently wasn't in anymore. Why had he stepped in front of that jutsu again?
Oh, right, because he was already injured pretty badly, and if Naruto was disabled they had no hope of winning. And Sasuke'd taken far fewer hits from their human opponent. The masked guy was really fast, faster than either of them, but he couldn't move too fast for the Sharingan. No one could move too fast for the Sharingan to see them. And if Sasuke could see the senbon incoming, he could at least move so that he'd only take glancing blows. Naruto couldn't follow their opponent's movements, though, so he'd taken lots more hits.
When the masked ninja switched out with his ice spirit summon, and it shot a giant ball of purple chakra at Naruto, there was only one choice Sasuke could make. He couldn't pull Naruto out of the way in time, or try to block the attack with a jutsu. It takes far more skill than Sasuke had to use jutsu one-handed, and far more strength to drag around somebody with thirty pounds on you.
If Naruto was taken out, they would lose. Sasuke couldn't fight either of the enemies engaging them alone, with only one arm. The only tactically sound decision was to protect Naruto, and the only way he could block the attack was with his own body. Not that he was trying to lay down his life for the idiot; Sasuke quite sensibly intercepted the blast with a leg, and made sure his torso wasn't in the line of fire. Limb wounds are much easier to repair than organ damage, of course.
He wasn't expecting a glancing blow to eject his soul from his body! What kind of technique does that?! It shouldn't be possible! Assuming this wasn't a genjutsu, which his active Sharingan would seem to argue against. If it could've just done this the whole time, why hadn't it before?
Although, now that Sasuke thought about it, when the attack hit he'd felt a sensation of stretching, like he was pushing back against a heavy weight. Maybe the soul separation effect only worked on weakened, wounded people. That would explain why it hadn't used this jutsu before.
Sasuke decided to go back over to his body; even if Naruto couldn't see him, maybe he could get back in and regain control. But when he tried to take a step, his feet passed through the dock, and he just sort of flailed around in place! Crap!
How could he get back to his body without a physical form to move with?!
"S-Sasuke!" Momentarily forgetting the presence of an enemy, Naruto slid onto his knees next to his friend's unresponsive form. He'd got hit by a jutsu that woulda hit Naruto except he jumped in the way and why would he do that? Naruto wasn't worth that! It was supposed to be the other way around! He was supposed to protect his friends!
Naruto frantically listened for Sasuke's breath. Nothing. He checked his pulse, running frantic fingers over the other boy's neck. Nothing. Completely consumed with thoughts of his friend, Naruto steeled himself to begin rescue breathing.
Having conveniently made himself a stationary target, he was struck by another inky ball of energy in the back.
"Kami damn it, you idiot!" Naruto couldn't hear Sasuke, but the Uchiha couldn't help but explode at the sight. Actually, the fact that he couldn't be heard was kind of liberating. No matter what he said, it wouldn't get back to his mother. "I didn't sacrifice my damn soul so you could get hit by the same attack! Aaarggh!" He flailed impotently at the ground some more, which did absolutely nothing.
Naruto never felt a physical impact. Instead, he felt this strange and terrifying sucking, tearing sensation, accompanied by a flash of red and a deep, chilling cackle that flickered behind his eyes and ears. Instinctively, the Uzumaki pulled back with all his might and willpower, even as his vision narrowed to a dark tunnel. For a single, horrible moment, he thought he might not make it, but then he fell back to himself with an unpleasant but welcome jolt.
Uzumaki Naruto's mind, and approximately a third of his soul, left his body for less than a second. That was six sixteenths of a second longer than the nine-tailed demon fox needed. Naruto returned to a burning, red-tinged consciousness, as frothy, crimson chakra bubbled up from his pores and a single thought bounced around his head.
That thing had killed Sasuke. That thing killed one of Naruto's friends.
"Rrrraaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!"
There are some techniques that should never be used on jinchuriki. Chief among those are techniques that weaken the mind or spirit. Like most of the strongest seals, the seals that trap biju inside their living prisons are dependent in part upon the willpower of the container. Ghost attacks, which directly assault the spirit of the target, bypassing all physical and mental defenses, are near the top of the list of things to never, ever use on a demon host.
The land of waves in general, and Yuki the froslass in particular, were very lucky that day. Naruto, alone of all the jinchuriki to ever exist, had built up a hefty resistance to ghost type attacks from over a decade of exposure to Giratina's spectral aura. He still had plenty of strength, far too much for the effects Sasuke experienced to work on him. Uzumaki are naturally resistant to pretty much everything harmful in existence. Uzumaki chosen to bear the nine-tailed fox, like Uzumaki Kushina, are selected for their resilience, a trait Kushina passed on to her son.
It could have been much, much worse.
"Remind me again why those mist losers are still alive, willya? Shouldn't you be goin' all god-ghost wrath dattebane?!"
"Arceus. One instance of my released aura in the area around the land of fire is an anomaly. Twice is a pattern. If I use any attacks, he will know."
"Crap! So then what can we do?!"
"Nothing."
"And you're just okay with this dattebane?"
"What do you think?"
"Actually, I think there is something Kushina or I can do," Namikaze Minato concentrated, and his appearance wavered like the reflection in a soap bubble, before his comfortable clothes were abruptly replaced with Konoha's standard jonin uniform and his signature coat. "That Sasuke kid is a spirit right now. He's dead."
"He isn't."
"What? But…" Minato was confused now. "When you hit me with a ghost move, I died."
"You were already dead. Your body could not sustain you any longer. I prevented you from passing on to the Pure World. Or in your case, eternal servitude to Darkrai. The Uchiha is wounded, but not fatally. If he returns to his body within the next few hours he will live."
"Then, couldn't one of us help him get there?"
"That would make the situation less bad," Kushina observed, "So go get 'em, blondie! I bet he'll trust the great an' mighty Fourth Hokage over some random, crazy, dead lady."
"I am aware that forced inaction has worn upon you, Namikaze Minato. Go and aid your son and his friends. Be wary of the dark type, and you should have no trouble succeeding."
"Dark type?"
"The fish. It can harm you, even in this state. But you can harm it."
"Huh."
Mudkip used water gun.
It did almost nothing to affect Hokori.
Hokori used dragon rage.
Mudkip lost 75% of his HP.
Mudkip used mud-slap.
It did almost nothing to affect Hokori.
Hokori used shock wave.
It's super effective!
Mudkip blasted off! He cleared the docks!
"Well, that was way easier than I expected."
Most people would look at Team Seven, even the entire graduating class of that year, and immediately pick out Haruno Sakura as a very, if not the weakest link. She's tiny, with no muscle definition. She diets unhealthily, and puts effort into her appearance that could go into training. She has pink hair. She has no ninja relatives at all; her family is full of merchants and bankers. She spends all her time with her nose in a book, time she could also be spending training. She's loud, obnoxious, bratty, and obsessed with Uchiha Sasuke. She masks crippling insecurities about her appearance and personality by acting out. Definitely within the standard deviation for a pathetic civilian, but probably fatal for a combat-duty ninja, especially one on a high-risk combat team like Team Seven.
This hypothetical and strangely well-informed observer would have overlooked a few key details. Also, the Konoha Military Police would have invited him or her in for a chat about stalking little girls years ago, but since the observer is hypothetical they couldn't do that.
The most telling thing they overlooked is that of the hundred students to graduate the Konoha Ninja Academy that year, only nine were flagged as possible future jonin. Seven of them were clan heirs, the end products of long-term if primitive eugenics programs on behalf of their families to breed the perfect ninja: Sasuke, Kiba, Ino, Shikamaru, Shino, Chouji, and Hinata.
The eighth, Uzumaki Naruto, might not be a clan heir, but the Uzumaki bred for power and skill just as long as any clan, and adding the Fourth Hokage's genes to the mix certainly didn't hurt. Naruto's problems had little to do with his potential.
Haruno Sakura is the daughter of merchants, granddaughter of bankers and bureaucrats. None of her ancestors were ever ninja; she is the first of her family to do anything more violent than repossess collateral since a young gym leader named Brock managed to get his ass kicked by every single pink-haired medical professional in the entire Hoenn region two thousand years ago. Which, for the record, was most of the doctors and nurses on the continent at the time.
Haruno Sakura was the top female student in her class, almost the top student. Only Sasuke and Shino scored higher. Not Hinata and Ino, the genetically engineered, trained from the cradle super-soldiers. Haruno Sakura was the top girl in her class. Practicals are weighted far more heavily than pure academics in ninja school.
Sakura learned early on that she wasn't as fast or strong as her competition for the top. Furthermore, she would have to work five times as hard as them for half the results they got from their training. No matter how far she pushed her body, the cold, hard truth was that Ino and Hinata could and did train just as hard as she did. And they were rewarded a lot more for it.
So Sakura did what any good ninja does when they are utterly, hilariously outmatched. She cheated.
It didn't hurt her chances for surviving her first combat mission that Gozu, the missing-ninja chunin from Kiri, had never actually tried to take somebody alive before. He kept having to hesitate, pull punches or alter the angles of his strikes, so he didn't break something his target needed or accidentally poison her or something. Sakura may not have noticed this during her brief fight with his brother, but when Hokori gave her an opening and some breathing room, her brain had the chance to reboot. Surprise is a limited and rather transient advantage, after all.
She knew Gozu had enormous advantages in size, speed, strength, and experience. She noticed how much trouble he had with keeping things nonlethal. She realized he was trying to capture her; she also realized he had only the vaguest idea of how much force was needed to subdue somebody without killing them.
Sakura is a very good ninja who is completely outmatched. So she cheated.
The missing-nin is worried about hurting her too much? Sakura hammed it up like a Stone Country football star. She flinched and cried out when he hit her. She flung herself backwards when struck, so it looked like even light blows could send her reeling. She deliberately let the sharp edges on his gauntlet graze her skin (carefully staying clear of the bladed fingertips, which were stained dark with poison). Suddenly, he was punching like he was trying to hit an antique vase without scratching it.
Sakura could have held out like this for at least another ten minutes, she was sure. But Naruto and Sasuke could be in trouble; if the enemy sent a chunin to sit on her, they probably sent worse after the hard targets. She couldn't count on a rescue, and the boys might actually need her to rescue them. So once the chunin was good and hesitant, Sakura struck.
Sakura's chakra reserves, compared to her year-mates in the jonin track, are unimpressive at best. Compared to Naruto or even Sasuke, they might as well not exist. Compared to her, the boys' chakra control might as well be an elephant in a glass-blower's shop. Blasts of fire and wind might never be a useful part of her abilities; those take a lot of power.
Popping the seams on her blatantly impractical, flimsy, civilian dress at just the right moment for the sea wind to sweep a swathe of fabric across a missing-nin's head? Easy-peasy.
Gozu clawed the obstruction from his face just in time to see a steel-wreathed fist centimeters from his left temple. The old, subtle knuckledusters from Sakura's academy days? Long gone.
Back when she needed to hide how 'weak civilian Sakura' was dropping Inuzuka Kiba and Akimichi Chouji with just a few punches, she'd picked her steel knuckles for easy palmability and concealment. The perfect student certainly couldn't be caught sneaking weapons into taijutsu practice. As long as she wasn't caught… They were ninja, after all.
Now that Iruka-sensei's watchful eyes were no longer a concern and the D-rank mission income was coming in, Sakura did exactly what anyone who knew her would expect her to do. She went on a shopping spree.
Her old steel knuckles added weight to her punches, and poked a few blunt prongs up between her fingers for a little extra power.
Her new trench spikes covered her knuckles with studded, steel bars and tapered down to a pair of wicked points. And once Gozu went down, Sakura wasn't the sort to let him get back up out of some sense of honor, or start monologuing about how he should bow to the power of friendship and ramen.
She jumped onto his chest, applying a knee to his sternum on her way down, and kept pounding on his face until he stopped trying to get up again. Then she hit him a few more times for insurance.
Completely heedless of the fact that she was only wearing a pair of stretchy, spandex shorts, a training bra, several weapon pouches, and the blood of her enemies (Well, some of it was hers, but most of it wasn't. Gozu's nose turned out to be quite a squirter when she hit it a few times.), Sakura ran for where she last saw her teammates. Damn it, boys, don't you dare die or get captured or I'll kick your asses, see if I don't. Shannarooo!
She wasn't too distracted to slam her shin into Meizu's face on her way past, though, sending the recovering Rocket agent back to dreamland.
The first time the scarred fish leaped from the water to attack him, Sasuke dismissed it as a threat. Everything else had passed through him; nobody could see him. He ignored the creature in favor of trying to get back to his body so he could follow the holes left by Naruto as he chased after their sometimes-intangible adversary. He couldn't let the fox demon take over his friend! The Sharingan might be able to help Naruto get back in control, if he could just take a few steps!
When the fish's vicious jaws took a bloody chunk out of Sasuke's side, he started paying attention. There wasn't much he could do to defend himself, as he couldn't sidestep the attacks. However, by strategically sacrificing his kunai and shuriken, hoping that if (when! When!) he returned to his body the physical versions would still be there, he had been able to prevent serious harm. Still, he was running low on things to shove in the fish's jaws, and apparently concentrating really hard on having more knives or some armor didn't work. That was disappointing.
Palming his last two shuriken, Sasuke tracked the fish on its trajectory towards his face. Two more deflections, and then he'd have to start sacrificing fingers. Gulp. Then, almost faster than even his Sharingan could follow, the fish's tail was caught fast in a gloved fist.
"Nope," Sasuke's gaze traced up his new (potential) ally's arm, over a white coat, Konoha flak jacket, up to a face he'd only seen in the history books. And on the side of the mountains overlooking his home. "Still nope," Namikaze Minato, the fourth Hokage, informed the fish as it tried to twist around to bite his hand. Before it could find a way to free itself, Minato wound up and hurled the fish over the docks, where it disappeared into the trees lining the shore. "There. Take it a while to flop back into the water and get back to us."
Sasuke almost accused the man of being an imposter. After all, the fourth Hokage simply could not be here. But no disguise technique could fool the Sharingan. Not that well. "Are- Aren't you dead?" he finally settled for.
"Yep," the older man confirmed cheerily, "Been dead for a while."
"So then… how the heck are you here?!"
"I'm a ghost," the 'duh' went unspoken, but Sasuke picked it up. Whether or not it was intended, it was what he heard. "And as for the why… Well, why are any of us here, really?" He sighed, "I'm a ninja, kid, not a philosopher. That was always more Sarutobi's thing."
"But why?"
"Well, Naruto keeps saying he's gonna be Hokage, and in my entirely unbiased opinion, he's got a decent chance of pulling it off," Minato was totally biased, but he couldn't let Sasuke know that. Iwa would still be perfectly happy to declare war over the son of the Yellow Flash, no matter the consequences, as long as Naruto died. "Since a restful afterlife doesn't seem to be in the cards, for me anyway, I've been, well, sort of haunting him. I think he might have some Namikaze in him; there's gotta be a reason I have to stick around." There was, but again, Sasuke didn't need to know.
"Wait, you said you're dead, not we're dead," noted the Uchiha, "Does that mean…?"
"Still alive, kid, for now at least," confirmed the former Hokage, "All I need to do is shove you back in your body and you should be fine. Even if I'm dead, it's kinda my job to help you where I can. And Naruto needs you."
"But, what can I do? I… don't really have any idea how clan head Madara controlled the Nine-Tailed Fox. I was just planning to wing it and hope for the best…"
"Hm. Well, how's your sealing? If you've got the basics, I could show you something that'll help Naruto suppress the fox long enough to get total control back. You'll just have to copy it once we get you back to your body."
"…Yes, please."
Coming down from his massive adrenalin rush and rage high, Ha had to admit that even with the power boost he had (presumably from righteous fury) Haku was still a pretty tough opponent.
Ha could feel the missing-nin's aggression as he started to attack, but was still barely fast enough to deal with the attacks. Less of an apparent size difference (the guy must have been using a genjutsu to make himself look tougher, the pansy) didn't mean that Haku's arms being as long as Ha's entire body wasn't a big advantage. After Ha turned his opponent's weapons against him with a confusion, Haku started using ice needles he could instantly melt if Ha tried to stab him with them. And Ha didn't have a weapon anymore (That bastard is dead! Dead!).
Still, the psychic was pretty sure Haku was tiring faster than he was. The explosions coming from off to the left meant Naruto and Sasuke were still in the fight against the froslass. He hadn't heard Sakura scream again, so she was probably still kicking too. All in all, not a bad situation.
Then, the froslass came through the wall, looking like it'd just gone a few rounds with a pack of houndoom. It was covered in burns and cracks in its white, icy armor. Dark red energy crackled over several of the wounds, evidently causing intense pain, and the ghost bobbed far lower than it had when Ha fought it, like it was barely able to lift itself. "I'm sorry, sensei," the ice type gasped, "I couldn't stop him."
"Eh? You finally beat the genin? Good," Haku couldn't understand her, though. "Even if they seem to have done a number on you."
"Wha? No! You need to-" whatever the froslass was going to say was cut off by Naruto bulling through the wall behind it on all fours, cloaked in that same nasty red chakra! That stuff couldn't be his! It's so heavy with hate and… Ugh. At least Ha didn't feel like he was going to barf this time. Hooray for more experience.
"Rraaaaghhh!" the blonde screamed, cocking back a clawed hand. Around the limb, the red chakra shaped itself into extended, bladed spikes. "You killed Sasuke! Kill you too!"
She killed Sasuke?
"Hnmph. Obviously not," Sasuke scoffed, ducking through Naruto's hole. "Overdramatic dunce. Takes more than a little death to stop an Uchiha."
Seriously, Sasuke?
"Hey, how many times do you get to say that death literally can't stop you?" Sasuke asked, quirking a slight smile, "You would have… Wait, how the hell are you talking?!"
I'm talking?
Then Zabuza came through the other wall, accompanied by the shattered pieces of Kubikiribocho, a massive, circular, bruise accented with three triangular claw marks on his chest. Fortunately (or not, depending on your point of view), Naruto broke his fall, the double shocks of 'Sasuke's alive!' and 'Somebody mashed Zabuza!' causing him to lose his grip on the Kyubi's toxic power.
"Ow."
Five minutes previously…
When the hell had file clerk Hikaru gotten this good?! Once Zabuza broke the guy's arm, it was supposed to be over!
It wasn't supposed to take Zabuza and his kingler another ten minutes to pin the slippery bastard down! It takes a special kind of willpower to keep enough focus through a broken arm and that much bruising to use sealless Ninjutsu! Sure, Hikaru wasn't as good without seals; he hadn't used any more fire style.
But the near-constant substitutions and doppelgangers were just as annoying, if less dangerous. Also, the explosions from where Haku and the twins were fighting was worrisome.
Not alarming, because Zabuza had faith in his subordinates' abilities, especially Haku's. Even if the boy wasn't fighting at full strength; he was still adjusting to life without depth perception. Haku wouldn't lose against any normal opponent.
Haku wasn't carrying any explosives, though. They didn't want to risk collateral damage in the valuable and vulnerable warehouse district. So the explosions had to be coming from his opponents. Letting green genin buy that many exploding tags, or worse, teaching them to make their own, is incredibly irresponsible and dangerous to both the genin and anyone near them. Whatever else Zabuza might say about Hikaru, he was never the sort of person to consider such a reckless course of action.
If the kids had their Pokémon well-trained, and they worked well together, they could potentially give Haku and Yuki trouble. Especially if they nailed the twins early on and Haku had to engage them alone. He'd never kill the most troublesome and capture the third just to make things easier on himself, and he was fighting with a double handicap from holding back and adjusting to the implanted eye.
Yeah, it was troubling that Haku hadn't already come to back his sensei up. On the other hand, Hikaru was finally down, if not out. Time to change that.
"Make sure his head doesn't roll into the water," the assassin ordered his partner as he raised kubikiribocho, "Whoever he really is, I owe him a proper burial once we're done here." They had been friends. Sort of.
That was when Zabuza picked up a scent that, while masked by the sea breeze until the source got close, sent blaring alarms straight to his paranoia. Fresh earth. In the middle of a pier jutting out over the ocean.
Now that the noises of battle had died down somewhat (near Zabuza, anyway), he could also hear the faint 'tink, tink, tink' of somebody stepping lightly in hobnailed boots, or maybe geta. Probably the boots.
The only person who might be ballsy enough to try to sneak in geta was Jiraiya of the sannin, and there was no way Zabuza would have heard him coming.
Hobnailed boots are great for soft, treacherous surfaces like mud, hard sand, and wet grass, where the nails dig into the surface for extra grip. They're less useful on hard surfaces like stone or well-kept, cut wood, where the nails can't sink in. They also make noise, especially on uneven, hard surfaces like, say, cobblestones, or a dock, no matter how lightly you step in them.
For these reasons, ninja never wear hobnailed boots. They're only really common among soldiers in the regular armed forces, specifically professional pikemen… and samurai, who sometimes could use ninjutsu. Was a samurai of all things trying to stealth him with an earth jutsu?! That was definitely high on the list of threats Zabuza never thought he'd have to worry about.
Whoever it was, the guy was almost in sword range. Unbelievably good stealth skills for a samurai, but not good enough to fool Momochi Zabuza. Instead of bringing kubikiribocho down on Hikaru's neck, the missing-nin whirled around and slammed his sword down on what appeared to be empty space.
Kubikiribocho first encountered what felt like a thick shield or maybe a tetsubo, which it sundered with ease. Below that, it hit a softer layer, probably an earth-style defensive jutsu that Zabuza smelled, which barely slowed the legendary blade any more than the metal above it. Then, it hit the third layer. The zanbato stopped cold, a resounding 'Clang!' reverberating up the blade and jarring Zabuza's burns so badly he almost fumbled his grip.
A greasy feeling, like the moment before a lightning strike or powerful lightning jutsu, radiated outward from the invisible target for a few seconds, as whatever it was steadied itself against the blow, then sullenly withdrew. Tiny motes of what looked like glass began to spiral off, starting from where kubikiribocho had hit but quickly spreading around the formerly invisible thing, evaporating like morning dew in a shower of sparkles.
A weathered, bisected Buddha statue split around the zanbato, falling to either side with a clatter. A shower of earth and grass slithered after it, also split by the mighty slash.
The surface beneath, a gritty, silvery plate of metal bisected by a golden cross, was barely scratched. As Zabuza tried to process how a shrine the size of a small hill had managed to sneak up on him, the greasy feeling abruptly cut off.
The golden claws the being had delicately stood on the tips of abruptly sunk into the dock up to the thick, circular feet they were attacked to, splintering but not breaking the sturdy wood with a loud 'TOOM!'.
A pair of glowing, red eyes looked at Zabuza. Swung over to kubikiribocho. Back to Zabuza. They did not look impressed.
A single leg, one of four, adorned with an incongruous, filigreed bracelet set with an orange and silver stone, raised above the being's head? Body? Both? Zabuza couldn't tell, and didn't care to speculate. His attention was on the thick, golden claws on the end of that leg.
"Oh, fu-"
"METAGROSS!"
'WHAM!'
A.N. There's a new poll related to Reflections of Exile on my profile page! Go check it out!
The following is a peek into the strange and often inexplicable process that results in new chapters. It might help make some parts of what you just read make more sense, but if you aren't interested in what the heck I was thinking when I wrote this, feel free to skip it.
When I decided Fuji Hikaru was going to be teaching Team Seven, I ended up in a bit of a bind. I'd already started writing out how I was going to introduce Team Rocket in the Waves Arc, but I knew that Hikaru is, in terms of combat ability, a strict downgrade from Kakashi. He'd lose against Zabuza in pretty much any situation I could think of, especially since Zabuza has the advantage of knowing the area and local informants.
On the other hand, I did want to get Sakura her starter before the chunin exams began, and I knew I wanted it to be a steel type strong enough to not be outmatched by what Naruto and Sasuke already had, one that could grow and evolve alongside her like Hokori and Ha do with their trainers.
I also knew I didn't want a legendary to just give her one, like with her teammates, because that's repetitive and repetitive is boring. I have been hinting, not all that subtly, that the Elemental Nations are a post-apocalyptic Hoenn ravaged by the Ten Tails.
Metagross makes everything more awesome. And beldum fits Sakura well. It starts out rather weak for a pseudo-legendary, but ends up in the same weight class as low-level powerhouses like Deino and Dratini do.
Yes, Metagross can turn invisible, by refracting light with tiny reflect screens. It's got a supercomputer for a brain and eons of experience; it can do that. And the whole 'you can't be seen, but you can't see out' thing doesn't matter to a Pokémon with psychic and magnetic senses.
And, yes, the Land of Stone's football team is the Italy of the Elemental Nations.
