SHARINGAN

CHAPTER 13

There was no point trying to run away now. Not with all her escape routes blocked. Even if Hinata was given the opportunity, she wasn't sure she'd take it. Despite the beliefs of her father, that unwavering sense of duty was strong in her. Watching Naruto had nourished that desire. She was eternally thankful to him for that. "There's nowhere to run," said the shinobi. The severe distortion of his voice made it sound like he was talking through a speaker.

"Why didn't you knock me out?" Hinata asked. He cricked his shoulder joint and cocked his head to the side, curious. Maybe even a tad surprised. When he gave no answer Hinata assumed battle stance. "Are you ready, then?" The mask shifted as he smiled. He also assumed battle stance, and much to Hinata's utter shock, it was the stance of the Gentle Fist. Just when she thought her stutter was over with. "Wh-what is this?"

During her training Sasuke would often encourage her to attack first, since she was accustomed to waiting for her opponent to strike. Sometimes this was an advantage, and sometimes it wasn't. Since her opponent here seemed to be practiced in the same technique as her, it was most likely the latter.

She started with her left hand. It was good, Sasuke had said, to switch up hands every now and then to keep predictability at a minimum. It was barely a factor here. Whoever this was obviously had experience, something that was apparent within only five seconds of combat. They exchanged blows steadily, powerfully. Chakra sparked from their hands like grinding steel. The dark smithy flashed with it, as if it was lightening coming from their palms. Her speed had increased a great deal, training with Sasuke.

At first it seemed like nothing but mimicry. The shinobi's attacks were in time with hers, precise and meditated. 'Maybe he's not as practiced as I thought,' she started thinking. But he was so clean, so efficient. She tried going for the sweet spots in an attempt to redirect his chakra flow, but was blocked every time. The Gentle Fist treated chakra as needles, and with a bit of tweaking Hinata was able to form blades. Just the slightest bit of contact was enough to sever a chakra vein.

With so many different teachers it was only natural that her own style would develop, but it was a work in progress. Not suited for a life or death battle, if indeed that's what this was. As their speed picked up it immediately became apparent that she was at a disadvantage. The mastery of the original Gentle Fist was still so far beyond her. Forget offense. It was a struggle enough just keeping up defense. One little slip could sever her chakra flow completely, and that'd be the end. At the hands of a proficient, it only takes less than a second to kill somebody.

His nerves stretched like chords, darkening the veins in his neck. His heard hammered against his chest. Worry. The only worry Sasuke ever harbored was for himself, so he did not understand the shock of worrying for another. Why wasn't it the same thing? Hinata could be dead right now, and he had no idea where to look for her. Frustration! Was that the difference? He couldn't remember the last time he had been so stricken by something. For a meek, seemingly forgettable human to have such power over him . . . he didn't like it.

But then Hinata wasn't obscure to him. Her existence wasn't opaque or obsolete. She wasn't the least bit like him, but then she was exactly like him. In a rainbow of people she was the shadow under a tree, and this worked for her. That quiet, reserved and shy personality is what had drawn his curiosity, but it was the discovery of other things that ultimately kept him fixated. When she was around he could see nothing else.

An explosion caught his attention. He stopped on one of the apartment complexes, pressing his collar to his nose. When the smoke subsided a figure was left standing in its wake, tall, piercing, shielded with a mask and a vest. His dark clothes welded him to the night. There was a forehead protector sloped lazily around his neck that gleamed in the moonlight; the only thing to stand out. A blank forehead protector.

That was interesting. The outfit itself gave no clue as to what village he might be from either. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded. An interruption is not what he needed right now. His patience was a shrivel, and in his current state he was not afraid to kill. From the bottom of his heart, he meant that. "A nobody, are you?" Sasuke clenched his fists. They were shaking—he was shaking. The tips of his ears were hot and his muscles were bulging, coiled with rage, twice the size of what they should be. In that moment he did not see a stranger standing in front of him. He saw Itachi.

The shinobi pulled out a kunai. He twirled it lazily around his index finger, tossed it, and caught the base with a flick of his wrist. His knees bent and his feet braced apart. "Fine by me," Sasuke snarled. "I would have just killed you anyway."

The whole night transformed at those words. Sasuke felt it like a punch in the stomach, a kick to the heart. The world lapsed into slowness, and even his own breathing was akin to thunder in his ears. Every sense converged on him and he saw it with his eyes; the very thickness of the smoke curling over the rooftops, the individual movement of every strand of hair, of clothing. The tips of his fingers felt like they were burning. Everything from the roof, to the stars, to the opponent standing in front of him, folded together into a single clarity.

Could this be the Sharingan?

"Wait, wait," Tenten panted. Choji was behind her, and the children behind them. With a hand placed on Choji's shoulder she said, "the kids are lagging behind. Everybody, here!" She ushered them into a tight corner as a team of shinobi flew over the alleyway. Kami, they were everywhere! Where in the hell were all the Jonins? Kurenai wasn't one to leave her team hanging, and she hadn't seen any of the chuunins either. What the hell was going on?

"Wh-whose that?" Tenten looked where Konohamaru was pointing. She and Choji poked their heads behind the apartment complex, a space no wider than the width of their arms, and saw a group of villagers bound with sacks over their heads. Terrorists kicked dirt at their laps, absently tossing kunais in the air. Bastards.

"What do we do?" Choji asked gruffly.

"What do you mean 'whudda we do?' We demolish them!"

"What?" Choji whispered. "You mean by ourselves?"

"Don't be a coward. They need help now, and we don't exactly have time to look for help. Unless you wanna handle them while I take the kids." He was already shaking his head vigorously. "I thought so. I recovered a bit of chakra, so I can distract them at the most. We don't have a choice."

"Yes," came another voice, and Tenten nearly flew out of her skin. "There are innocents at risk, and I do not want to see them harmed."

"L-Lee?" she gasped. The only reason Choji had not screamed was because the kids were piling over him, smothering his mouth with their tiny hands. Tenten gripped at her shirt, thinking her heart might burst out of her chest. "What are you doing here?" Lee glanced at her, thick eyebrows set with determination.

"The village is under attack and—"

"We know that already!"

"—I was at the academy when I saw these villagers being held hostage. I am extremely grateful to see that you two are here and unharmed. It must be fate! It seems as if you could use some help."

"You can say that again," Tenten sighed. She grinned. "Good to see you, Lee. Where's Neji?"

"I have not seen him."

"Well I'm sure he's fine. This is Choji Akimichi." She gestured to him. The kids toppled off of him when he puffed out his chest, gasping for air. Lee saluted him.

"Rock Lee! A pleasure to meet you! Thank you for assisting my teammate!"

"Gah, shut up, will you?" Tenten threw her hands out toward the both of them. "Look, we kind of have a situation on our hands—" A string looped around one of her extended hands and she was abruptly pulled into the air. Someone clamped a hand to the back of her neck and secured both her wrists with the other.

"Yes," he said, low and menacing. "You do."

*AN*

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