"How well or poorly we execute our ambush will have a huge impact on this war and how many casualties we suffer. If you wanna protect your friends and family, the only thing you should thinking about is how to make this operation a success!"
Kankuro
Gentarou was a man on a mission. A thirst for blood. His mouth was stained with it, teeth bloody and sharp, his appearance was becoming more beast-like and feral as the battle grew in intensity. He never had the intention of working together with Chouboyou or Atsushi. He had no intention of working together with their units. The fact Chouboyou was an Inuzuka didn't make him any difference.
He hadn't been in a good fight since he fought Chojo and the leader of the Inuzuka's main compound-where all the children, pups, and ninken were-Senou. Chojo had been close to Cho while the latter had been in the Lightning country. They had traded information and were going to split the payment down the middle. Any shinobi worth their salt knew that actually meant I'm going to kill you before you can get paid.
At this point he wasn't even interested in money. It was petty. It was something common people and nobles horded and cherished. Shinobi, samurai, and any warriors valued action and strength over anything. Money was but a mere tool. A means to an end. It was to be spent. But, like the common people and nobles, samurai, and shinobi could horde money.
Battle was the only thing that drove him now. He had no intention of living a long life and never did. The fact he lived to his age now-thirty seven, was a testament to his ferocity and prowess. There were times he had been close to death-that blade of a sword or kunai coming faster than he could blink, but something changed within him, and he'd always have a mouth full of blood and part of his foes' neck hanging from his teeth.
He sped across the ground-each movement ripped the ground and crumbled boulders. Yumi was steadily driven back, giving ground to the more massive and aggressive Inuzuka. She could go blow for blow, easily enough, but that'd start to get taxing. Inuzuka were close range and mid range specialists. The closer they got, the more frenzied one became. They almost fed off the energy of the Inuzuka-or that frenzied energy bled into their foes. It caused many to attack recklessly and others to retreat. It was in the Inuzuka's neighborhood to take advantage of such openings-they were savage and aggressive, but they had cunning minds.
The smarter, and more emotionally controlled and reserved, at least. They were capable of this, easily enough. Their aggression and ferocity was channeled, rather than being allowed to run wild. But, most Inuzuka were a wild and reckless bunch, so their aggression getting the better of them wasn't all that uncommon. It left the smarter Inuzuka to sigh or shake their head, feeling contempt for the simple minded ruffians.
For all of that brute force-their sense of smell was impeccable. There was an old saying that a man can walk through a river, and the Inuzuka will be at the other side waiting for him. Like many things, it was exaggerated, but it was based on truth. Once an Inuzuka caught a scent, they were locked on that scent, and there was no escaping. Even if one did go in water-if they weren't submerged completely, they'd be caught by the sharp nose.
Yumi swept aside the long, unforgiving forearm sweep of Gentarou-her arm and body absorbed most of the impact, while her wrist powered through his attack. Gentarou snarled, slammed his foot off of the ground and distanced himself. He came back with ten times more speed, screaming bloody murder. Yumi met his ballistic charge with a cool grace, moving in a tight half sphere. Gentarou continued to attack, blocking blows, two, three at a time flying around Yumi.
Yumi sped the tempo up. She swept her leg wide. Gentarou shifted his footing parrying the strike at the last possible second. It wasn't his forte, but he wasn't going to try and block that kick. He lunged for Yumi's neck-staying a foot out of her kicking range. His teeth looked rotten. His breath was like sulfur. Yumi retreated back with a back flip, trying to distance herself, but Gentarou was out for blood and closed the distance.
The air shifted, a maw consumed it. Yumi grunted, batting Gentarou's head with her forearm. The second Gentarou lunged for her neck again, she gripped him by the sides of his head. He was powerful, very much so. Her arms were shaking with strain, as was the rest of her body. It's not the most she's ever had to strain, but Gentarou wasn't a slouch by any means.
She slammed her right foot to the side, and swung her hips down. Gentarou ate a face full of dirt, and with little delay, Yumi kicked him across the skull, sending him flying to the side. He recovered quickly, but she managed to leave a small cut at the top of his forehead.
"Surely you can do better than that? I recall your strength being able to triple within a heartbeat." Gentarou's tone hold a mocking edge to it.
"You little feral man." Yumi gritted out.
"I'm going to skull fuck you and bite your throat out." Gentarou smirked. "And, not in that order."
Gentarou bucked sideways turning into his attack with poise. His grin was feral. The attack was abnormally swift, aimed right for Yumi's kneecap. Yumi braced. She had two options. Block and try to power through the stalemate, or dodge and brace for whatever attack would come next. She could power through it, but that was more than likely what Gentarou was expecting.
SHe jumped off of the ground, bounding up several feet easily.
Gentarou roared, chasing after her.
Yumi had little time to react, only managing to raise one arm before the impact slammed into her. She braced her feet with chakra-instead of flying like a ragdoll, like she was just about to, her feet dug trenches into the tundra, purchasing with great effort. She slammed spine first into a tree, and rolled off to the side.
Gentarou's first sheared where Yumi had previously been standing, debris stormed overhead as everything from tree trunks to rocks were splintered and shattered.
Yumi eased into her steps, carefully circling around the Inuzuka. She had been expecting an attack, and though it knocked the wind out of her it was much more favorable than trying to power through a stalemate. Gentarou was a little too erratic and vicious with his movements, especially at the close a range he'd only bide his time and then make one small pivot and it'd be over.
More importantly, if she did block, she was running the risk of tearing or ripping her muscles.
"Ugh!"
Yumi staggered back from a stiff shoulder jab, deftly dodging a clawed baseball mitten sized hand. She craned her head up, and once again dodged, sliding to a stop and punching through a fallen tree, rolling across the ground. She firmed her stance, bashing her fists and shins against him-never using more strength or leverage than what she absolutely needed. Gentarou hurled every limb and object at her from the boles and pieces of boulders to little twigs that were no bigger than a quill.
No projectile could penetrate Yumi's guard, and no physical strike was able to break through. She was focusing on defense now, letting Gentarou go about in his frenzy, without expending too much energy herself. Gentarou continued his onslaught.
"Backing up now? What's the matter!?"
Gentarou slammed his forearm against Yumi's wrist, teeth gritting until his arm began to bulge with veins. Yumi snarled, eyes practically glowing with fury as she halted his attack, entire body crouching tight. She dispersed some of the attack's force into the ground, while she absorbed the rest through sheer grit and determination. The impact drove her out of the immediate area and onto a pathway just three hundred or so feet up from the ocean close by.
Yumi began easing back once more as Gentarou charged towards her, skidding to a stop once he was in the clearing.
It wasn't in her nature to play the defensive role. Most of her foes didn't last too long, since she'd just punch the ground and create a crater. They'd fall into the crater and try to execute jutsus, but there was megatons of earth falling on them, and nothing could stop that avalanche. She was very powerful, but she never expended more than she absolutely had to-in offense, this meant finishing things with one punch. In defense-this meant controlling things until they were favorable for her.
The Inuzuka were a rabid and powerful bunch. Some were as wild as animals, others were just downright sadistic and bloodthirsty. Yet, some were more moderate and didn't allow their more primal instincts to take effect. They were able to leave mile long tunnels in the earth, and under it, from their spiraling attacks. If it was coupled with a ninken, the results were enough to change the entire landscape.
Gentarou tested Yumi's defense extensively, bashing forward and from the sides. His unpredictable and kamikaze attack style making him all the more troublesome to deal with. Each attack drove Yumi back step by step, but she maintained her guard. She batted aside vicious swipes and ducked under ferocious thrashing that would have turned anyone, shinobi or not, into nothing but bloody shreds.
Yumi maintained a defensive posture never expending more energy than what she absolutely needed to, keeping her movements precise, short, and coordinated not going for the agile and flashy moves of her offense repertoire.
"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"
Gentarou began spinning about until he merged into a blur, his body carved trails in the air as his speed tripled easily. A maelstrom of power and force surged around his body, until it was swallowed whole in the vortex. There was crackling and sounds of thunder, that grew louder and louder, the closer the whirlwind of death approached.
"FANG OVER FANG!"
Yumi flared her chakra, about to halt the attack itself, but immediately shot back. The chakra that had been surrounding her, stuck to her skin like glue, and when she sped away, it left a bright streak behind. Gentarou smashed where she had been standing, but she caught the swift movement of a footstep, and what should have been a cancelled attack, was now a continuous one.
Don't tell me he's using the principle of the Inuzuka's Fang Over Fang with his own style of taijutsu!
That was the only thing that could explain this. The Fang Over Fang could continue for a duration, depending on how much chakra and force the Inuzuka put forth, but one could never take a step while in the attack, and change course. Just the action alone would be enough to rip the leg off, completely, thigh and all along with the joints that connect into the lower pelvis.
Yumi watched the whirlwind approach. Her eyes focused on the center-a blur of white, but there was a brown bush in there. She could no longer afford to maintain the defensive, as long as Gentarou was using this-she'd need to push back with exacting, brute force. She had been concerned about her endurance in the long term with maintaining defense, but that was no longer a concern.
Gentarou's small movement was combustible. His chakra was already flaring, and his Fang Over Fang appeared to be more feral. Not having a Ninken slowed him down any, and he more than made up for the Inuzuka's companion's absence. Yumi raised both arms to block, crossing them in an X. She braced her legs and squatted, taking a deep breath.
Gentarou's punch jarred her. Chakra reinforced every part of her, but it didn't prevent any pain from erupting from his shot. She winced, then grimaced, and finally, she snarled in pain. Her arms were the least of her worries-Gentarou's center of gravity was in the whirlwind, and when he struck, part of that whirlwind not only struck her, but it propelled her.
She wasn't accustomed to being flung, and after flying through dozen of trees, Yumi managed to stop herself. It was a harsh stop, feet skidding, purchasing, leaving trenches behind. Her arms dug into the tundra, dirtied and bloodied at the nails. Her arms were bruised from the strike, a slight yellow, not very visible. Soon it'd turn to blue and purple.
She struck Gentarou over and over, using the pain from the bruise to throttle him.
He flailed, yelling, cursing, trying to outwrestle her.
Yumi met his charge, letting out her own curses as she threw him, and he shoved her.
They rolled to the ground and Yumi got on top of him. She jammed her knee on his elbow, and swung her whole body down. Her fist smacked the ground, hard, Gentarou et out a low groan of pain as the fist met its mark. He was quick to recover, finally kicking Yumi in the chest. She staggered away, and he sprung to his feet-diving through the air, and smacked her through a tree trunk.
Yumi coughed, rolling across the ground. The impact was enough to carry her through the tree by itself-and the sturdy trunk had snapped like a stick when she struck it. The rest of Gentarou's attack carried her through the air and across the ground.
She heard footsteps, and violently yanked her hand out.
Gentarou snarled, going to claw.
Yumi twisted, hard, a loud crack sounded.
"You broke my fucking toe!"
Gentarou kicked Yumi in the face, sending blood from her mouth.
She grabbed him by the waist, screaming, choking, and bridged her body-with him in her grasp, planting him into the ground. He tried to bend her further, but Yumi was quick, pulled a kunai from her holster, and lunged towards him. Gentarou rolled out of the way, and went to tackle her.
They struggled, Yumi stabbing with her kunai, Gentarou snapping his maw and slashing his claws.
"The fuck off me!"
Yumi snarled, rolling him on his side.
Her kunai just missed.
Gentarou lunged for her throat.
Now, it was survival.
Unlike everyone else-she had managed to get Gentarou far away from the village, and the docks. They were by the ocean, in a northern part of the Tea country, just before the rounded part of the Fire country dipped off into this territory. However, her comrades were also separated from her, and it left her to face Gentarou alone. She would admit she'd feel more at ease with more people here to swing this man's focus, but she had faced off against worst men before.
"So, you finally decide to fight!"
"I was never intent on running away in the first place."
Yumi reacted. She would not allow Gentarou to penetrate her guard. She danced around the strikes, blocking them in rapid succession completing the other half hemisphere to Genatrou's other half. Her offense was flashy and aggressive, but this one advantage was keeping her attacker at bay with timely and quick circular strikes. Her weight shifted, chakra surging through her as she scrambled for balance, and he shifted again-at the edge of the balcony-Gentarou continued pressing his attack and slashed up from his hip in a tight slanted curve.
Yumi evaded with a powerful leap, landing with poise on a narrow branch high above them.
"Coward!"
Gentarou angled his landing, and with a keen viciousness landed, his footing clumsy. His landing wasn't solid, and his left foot slipped before his right could rebound and catch him. He focused chakra into his feet, crouching low, trying to focus through his haze of blood thirst.
Four swift steps and Gentarou closed their gap, taking a more conservative approach and stabbed forward with his hand, aiming for Yumi's left lung. She batted the attack aside, shifting to the right but quickly balanced her, blocking another attack, this time an overhead strike, followed by winding kick, each time her balance shifted by the smallest centimeter.
"You can't evade me forever!"
Gentarou smirked, his mouth cracked open, and he laughed. His smirk turned into a grin, and his eyes were on fire with killing intent. He was happy to kill her. There was all but seven feet left of the current terrain, before it broke off into woods and a dead end. He had Yumi right where he wanted her. Shift an inch. Another inch. Half an inch...Little by little he positioned his attacks towards her right shoulder, and he advanced forward. Yumi shifted the weight from the side, upward, skewing Gentarou's punch by just a few inches-a few inches was all she needed.
She pressed forward, moving with a jab, Gentarou jumped away from her landing but a couple more feet away.
"It appears you stand corrected."
"When I get my hands on you, I swear..." Gentarou was foaming at the mouth, growling like an animal.
Yumi jumped back and away, momentum spurring her off to the side just a few degrees as she tucked her knees to her chest angling down.
I notice it... Yumi found an eerie calm in the thought, watching Gentarou rush through the air towards her location. He seemed slower than before. It's faint, but his attacks are becoming more aggressive-his arrogance is rising his movements are becoming more abrasive...
She tensed, narrowing her stance as Gentarou's form landed but several inches away from her-there couldn't be more than two or so feet separating them.
Gentarou repeatedly pressed the tempo of the fight driving Yumi back, searching for an opening in her guard.
And, now he found one-close quarters such as this, even someone as physically powerful and swift as Yumi would have complications fighting him off completely. He was right in his element being this close. He knew he had this fight won.
"You've become stronger than the last time we fought...But, you will not walk away alive." Gentarou declared.
It was a simple fact.
Like the sun rising.
"Your arrogance will be your downfall." Yumi, there was a warning in his tone. Her breaths were much faster than before. "An arrogant shinobi is walking suicide."
"I don't think so!"
Gentarou exclaimed his point with a quick hack from the side. Yumi shifted her footing, blocking the attack with the upper most part of her wrist, gritting his teeth as she pushed against Gentarou. Feet just inches from swaying to one side or the next, she was focusing to her utmost limit. One wrong movement, even by a centimeter, was going to cost her.
He surged forward, taking a quick step, forcing Yumi back. She went in for a swift punch, fist screaming towards his jaw, but Gentarou blocked at the last possible second, moving his wrists with rapid speed in a circular motion wincing slightly as his bones jarred. Yumi pressed ahead with her fist, feet digging into the ground as power whipped throughout her entire being, and with a shout, she sent Gentarou flying back through three trees.
Power would be needed of course, but she'd need more than just power to finish Gentarou. She needed finesse. She had to get in his guard, while dodging, and land a decisive blow. Preferably she'd move in to crush his throat, and from there she'd either cave in his chest, and just punch a hole through him. However, if he was going to be squrrilely like he is now-she would need to target his foot or leg.
Yumi shifted her footing once again, pressing into Gentarou's guard and heaved forward using what little leverage he gained in the short movement, it was exactly what Gentarou wanted-the older man spun breaking their stalemate.
Yumi sprung right at him-taken off guard, Gentarou could only heave out a gasp as Yumi's fist struck him in the core. In the span of a few seconds, Gentarou blurred in and out of sight struggling to pierce Yumi's defense, attacking with renewed vigor and hatred, but it was clear the younger woman was much more composed than he was, and in battle, the one with composure often walked away alive.
The first attack was blocked, followed by the second being blocked an instant later, the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, and eigth came arcing up from every possible direction, Yumi barely dodged, the skin on her face blistering, and just as quickly she ducked and rolled as fast as she could. Gentarou swept back in his transition effortlessly.
There it is!
Yumi dashed in. There was an opening. Clear and visible-it was small but she'd be able to put Gentarou down if she struck right there, as hard as she could.
"Too slow!"
Gentarou snapped one arm, hands looking more beastly than human. His nails were cruel, long claws, and his hands had grown almost to a grotesque point. Yumi braced herself for the impact, trying to ride with it as she was launched off of her feet, landing harshly on the ground. She slid for a few feet, then sprung up to her feet, eyes immediately darting for Gentarou.
"This battle is over." Yumi declared, tone steady.
"Kill me then!"
Gentarou halted Yumi's march forward with some effort. It would come down to this, a test of superiority, a test of wills and strength, where only the fraction of an inch would be the greatest factor-just as Gentarou wanted it to be. He pivoted, rotating his wrist at the same time, keeping it pressed againt Yumi's forearm, knocking her off balance. While she staggered, Gentarou cut across the air aggressively.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
Yumi screamed, mouth nearly all the way open. Her skin split on part of her back, shoulder, and near her arm. Drawing on all of her years of training and experience. Never before had she been cut across the back, nobody could ever get behind her to land a stroke in the first place. She wasn't sure if her spine had been cut, or anything of importance. Once the adrenaline wore off and this battle ended, only then would the damage rear its ugly head.
Her front foot slipped a few inches, kicking out from under her, almost throwing her down the hill, but with speedy reflexes she balanced herself just enough to prevent her fall.
She shouted in a mix of agony and desperation-arcing up in a tight curve with a kunai.
Gentarou was in mid attack when her stroke came. The attack was unexpected. Surprised, Gentarou watched as his arm from the elbow joint was sliced off, his teeth grit, the pain numbing but unbearable. Still in shock he stumbled back, his reflexes flaring a second too late, and he tumbled down an earthen face stopping just a couple of meters from the water.
"Damn... You... Bitch..."
Yumi paid his insult little mind. She observed her left arm which hung limply at her side for the most part. She felt little to no pain due in large part to adrenaline and grit. She hissed-her back making a sound as if something sticky was being pried off. She used her good arm to tear the fabric away, growling as the bitter air hit her wound.
That's not good...
She turned to face Gentarou-his face was one contorted with pain, his body was weary with exhaustion. Inuzuka weren't healers by any extent, and tying part of his shirt or any garment to the wound wouldn't do much to stop the bleeding. Besides, Gentarou looked to be enjoying the wound, and if not the wound, the prospect of death that was about to head his way.
Yumi blinked, confused, noting how his eyes hovered towards the sky.
"What in the world..."
Gentarou knew what he was seeing.
He thought he did.
He did, but...
He could definitely see.
Souji was high above the trees, on some earthen platform made from ninjutsu.
"He's not-"
"What the hell is he thinking!?"
Souji plummeted like an asteroid, head first, flipping-he almost appeared to be a swan.
His body disappeared down the tree line.
Gentarou nearly jumped out of his skin letting out a roar of shock and then began howling, thrown into a frenzy, while Yumi's voice echoed across the landscape.
Yumi shrieked.
Her heart was about to bulge out her chest.
The ground shook for several moments.
There was no way Souji, or the person he smashed into, was going to survive that...
They couldn't...
It was mortifying to think those reverberations were caused by human bodies.
And...Souji must have took the brunt of it.
Gentarou was still in shock.
His eyes remained transfixed on the spot where Souji had been just moments ago. The earthen structure had crumbled into dust and collapsed, almost as fast as Souji had plummeted out of sight. Gentarou had seen many things, terrible things, and he had done terrible things, but he had never seen, or had done it himself, jumped from such a high altitude.
It was suicide, even with chakra cushioning every single centimeter of the body, and internal organs.
"I'd be damned. Souji. That crazy son of a bitch..." Gentarou breathed out. "He actually jumped...I guess that's about the only way Atsushi can be taken out. Nobody has ever come close to killing that man..."
He noted a flash of movement-chestnut brown blurred in and out. He went on the attack, body spiraling with destruction and power once again before his vision blackened. He saw a tree trunk, and then everything went black. Had he lost control of his body? He blinked once, before letting out a grunt of discomfort and falling to the ground with a loud thud.
Mimori landed on the ground, just four feet away. One of the senbon in her hand jingled softly with bells, another set, on the senbon in her mouth, was jingling just as gently.
The senbon in the tree where Gentarou had been was vibrating.
"Mimori?" Yumi asked.
Mimori looked at Yumi with some concern. chestnut brown eyes relaxing just the slightest as Gentarou's movements became less and less prominent. He was like a slug try to roll on its back. She grabbed a shuriken from her holster, and closed the gap. Gentarou would feel nothing when his death came. He was already paralyzed in her genjutsu. She stabbed the projectile through his chest, right above his heart.
She made a quick carve down. Blood surged out from the wound, gushing onto the ground, and on Mimori, but Gentarou didn't make a sound as his life passed.
"I'm a clone."
Yumi nodded, keeping her hand over the wound near her spine. "How are things on your end?
Mimori's clone closed the distance between itself and Yumi, both hands hovering over her wounds. A gentle green glow began to encompass her palms.
"Allow me to heal you, conserve your chakra. The foreigners are relentless. I don't think they're going to retreat. Four of their ships have been blown apart from the inside out, two more from the outside in. They've started to storm onto the Tea country, and are heading into the village. It's chaos at the docks right now. Chouboyou is closest to the docks, but we managed to close him off. Chie, Ahiko, Daishiro, and Akame are dealing with him, but he's going into a frenzy. The damiyo's forces have begun a pincher attack. We're scrambling to get the slaves clear from the destruction, but some of them aren't listening. Some are downright hostile. Akira has infiltrated the damiyo's estate to finish him off with a unit of her own."
Yumi took in the news as composed as she could, sighing as she felt the severe wounds close completely.
"What of the Akimichi and Inuzuka?"
Mimori's clone shook its head. "No change, really. We've killed a lot of them, but they're not retreating either. I'm starting to think we're outnumbered."
Yumi frowned. "How much?"
"Ten thousand. That's factoring in everyone we're fighting against at the moment. I think with the foreigners and damiyo's army, we could be outnumbered by fifty thousand, if not more...I'm being conservative."
Yumi righted herself, taking a deep breath. She was a merciful woman. She never turned into a killing machine with no remorse-she always kept herself in check, less risk danger. But, it seemed that this time around-she was going to have to cross that bridge.
The docks must have been pure bloody madness. She hadn't focused too much, since she had been in combat. Even when she had been paying attention, there was far too much going on to be anything other than distorted noise.
Now, it was the same.
"Did...Souji..." Yumi trailed off, she took a step in the direction the man was bound to be. "Did...That really just happen? He fucking jumped! How could he have survived that!"
Mimori's clone nodded. "I wouldn't believe it...If I didn't just see it. I can't feel Souji's chakra or Atsushi's. I could feel Saki's and Sanosuke's but their's is gone, too."
"We..." Yumi trailed off, mind still trying to comprehend what had just happened. "We have to go there, now! What the hell happened?"
"Three units are going there now. I'm tailing them. Hundreds of our clones are there now." Mimori's clone grabbed a hold of Yumi. A spark of lightning surged around them.
"I came here to put the noose around Gentarou's neck, he was quite exhausted thanks to your superb defense. It seems that he was less of a threat than Chouboyou, that man is tearing loose. Sorry if this Shunshin is a bit much, but you've got to get to the docks now and I have to get over to Souji. It seems there's a crater there, and everyone in the battle is somewhere inside."
Chie's ears were ringing. That was the first thing Kuruse became aware of. The next thing was pain. So much pain. Her arms felt like lead and her legs were like cement blocks. She steeled herself, pressing one hand into the ground, her body protesting with full force, but she pressed through the pain. There wasn't much she could do against Chouboyou with this attack.
Her last attack-what she thought would severely wound Chouboyou only left a scratch.
It wasn't a total failure though.
She managed to score some cuts and gashes to the burly man's joint areas.
But that was it.
It wasn't a kill shot.
Her eyes traveled up, covered in a haze settling in from exhaustion and damage. She wasn't sure how many times her head was smacked off the ground, or some object, and the same went for everyone else with her fighting this man.
She shook her head once, vision sharpening once more, and she pressed one hand into the ground.
"I was expecting more out of you!" Chouboyou's voice was like thunder. His eyes remained focused on Chie, but they hovered on Ahiko and Daishiro-they fixed on Akame every so often.
Of all his foes-He had to worry the least about Chie.
"Yuhi really are genjutsu specialists. If I get in your face, I can break you in half bitch."
"Feral tongue..." Chie said, gritting her teeth in anger.
She leaned into Chouboyou, piercing through his side with her kunai for extra measure. He snarled, thrashing. Chie began hammering away on Chouboyou. He could hardly believe she was trying to batter him, but Chie was still trying to do it. Like a predator on the hunt, Chie could do nothing to stop the fangs from sinking deeper into her neck-claws ravaging her skin.
"Chie!"
Ahiko whacked Chouboyou. Her spear flexed and compensated for the force she struck with. Chouboyou staggered back, gasping. His forearms throbbed, and part of his torso pulsated. It wasn't the area where Chie had managed to land a strike with a kunai. It was a spot where Ahiko's wooden shaft had grazed him-while her blade plunged into a part of his segmented armor.
He shot back, hand flashing into a seal.
Tiger.
"I'm not going to give you the chance!"
"Come on then bitch!"
Chouboyou roared in elation. He ran towards Akame and Daishiro, jumping and trashing around them. He was a whirlwind or murderous intent and he screamed murder as he ripped the landscape apart.
"Ah.. Ah.. Ah.." Chie panted, coughing harshly, whipping the blood away that flew from her mouth. She kept a fist over her mouth. "Damn him...""
"Going toe to toe with him won't work out in your favor." Ahiko said.
Despite Choubyou being occupied with her cousin and Daishiro, she maintained a battle ready stance. The Inuzuka had proven more than once he was an unpredictable force to be reckoned with, and she wasn't going to underestimate him. One of the most dangerous things to do in battle was underestimating an Inuzuka, if one was facing off against them.
"We don't have much of a choice." Chie said briskly.
She could continue to fight-she was starting to find a rhythm, and even though she took damage, she was pushing Chouboyou.
"I'll occupy him with those two." Ahiko said, voice curt. "Find the opening to execute a genjutsu."
"Are you sure?" Chie asked, cautious.
Ahiko nodded, twirling her weapon with a graceful ease. "Positive."
Ahiko yelled, charging ahead. She slid her right foot across the ground, callouses tearing against her shaft. Chouboyou ducked, eyes widening briefly before they sharpened into shuriken. The air was so fierce above him, it whipped his hair side to side, and he was hard pressed to evade. He jumped back, distancing himself from the spear wielding woman, But Ahiko was in front of him as if she teleported.
Her blade sang, whistling through the air. Chouboyou wasn't going to entertain what would happen if that stroke were to connect. He hadn't felt concern, at first. A woman wielding a spear was laughable, but Ahiko was a different story. It was extremely clear the weapon was a part of her-it was living and breathing as much as she was.
He raised an arm, teeth grit as he caught the wooden shaft, hand just below the blade. His feet dug into the ground. Chouboyou smirked, nails extending into grotesque claws. He prepped to strike again. Daishiro charged in from the side, already within a hairsbreadth of Chouboyou when the man realized the distance had been closed between them.
"Agghghhh!"
"Damn it-"
Chouboyou bit his tongue, hard. Akame beamed right for him, spinning in an elaborate pattern. It'd be dazzling to onlookers, hypnotizing even, and it was, but for the burly Inuzuka it was a lethal dance. Akame arced through the gap between them, consumed in black, she struck like a shadow. Chouboyou snarled, jumping to the side...
Chie was right in his face.
Her fist struck. There was a lot of force behind that blow. Chouboyou could feel the air rushing past him. It got to a point where it felt like he was going to consumed by the air itself. It was as if his body was overwhelmed by the sheer velocity he traveled with. Chouboyou cursed, quickly, violently, he began to gather himself for a landing, before he rebounded into an attack.
He shouldn't have let that strike hit him.
It was remarkably hard. If Chouboyou had to guess, she must have put the forefront of her chakra into the strike.
It definitely felt like it.
Ahiko cleared the distance between herself and the Inuzuka with long strides. She pivoted. Her heart raced. Her body rocketed off on its own, propelled by her simple action.
"FUCK!"
Chouboyou forced energy into his legs-he shot back several meters, body shaking as his feet struggled for purchase.
"Haaaaaaa!"
Chouboyou seen the blade darting for his chest. He got in close to Akame, forcing her to sidestep, but he shoved her aside. He raised his leg. Akame dodged the kick. She took her opening, shot across the ground, and slammed her hand against the back of her sword. She angled the blade up. Chouboyou could see the attack coming-he could feel the oppressive murderous intent of Akame.
Akame struck his chin, but when the flesh split-a branch appeared.
Her powerful hips absorbed the impact. She was driven back. Akame grunted, before snarling. Chouboyou managed to sandwich himself against her, and it paid off.
But, that went both ways.
This would connect!
Daishiro's fist met its mark. Chouboyou hit the ground feet first, sliding back, teeth grit as he felt anger starting to bubble in the pit of his stomach. He had no time to scream in frustration. Ahiko was upon him jabbing, prodding, and bashing. Chouboyou snarled, frustrated that he couldn't press or advance on the young woman. The blade of her spear forced him to evade the attacks entirely, staying on the defensive.
It wasn't his style.
Chouboyou was all offense. He was a wrecking ball and plowed through anything that was in front of him. He was a whirlwind of destruction. He had been on the defensive few times in his life, but even then he always managed to mount offense and tore his enemies apart. However, now he was forced back-he couldn't risk getting gouged or cut by that spear.
It would skewer his intestines all over the place.
Damn it!
"Fuck out of the way!"
Chouboyou needed to push back.
Needed to find an opening!
And, he found one.
Just enough.
Ahiko advanced smoothly-her objective clear as day, behead him. Chouboyou was quick and ducked under the blow, took his chance and sped forward, fist lashing out. Ahiko jumped back, just avoiding the punch, she forced more chakra into her legs-and dashed back completely avoiding the next punch, and the four that followed.
"Get back here!"
"You're nuts!"
Chouboyou struck a tree, and every part of Ahiko tensed as she braced for danger. Chouboyou was already insane, in every sense of the word. The tumultuous thread that kept him barely tied down to reality was already gone, vaporized, incinerated, and turn into something so fine and minuscule that nothing could have remained from it.
Ahiko moved forward, meeting the Inuzuka head on in a collision. Her blade carved and sliced, but Chouboyou dodged and ducked under the ferocious strokes, though his cheek and chin were lacerated on the third go around.
Chouboyou grabbed a hold of the spear making to yank it away, but Ahiko was no slouch when it came to strength. She yanked back, using more technique than brute force. Brute force was what Chouboyou was best at, so she'd use finesse. She jabbed her knee into his thigh, wrapped the other one around his ankle, and threw him to the ground.
They both hit with a loud thud.
Chouboyou punched her twice, across the jaw.
Ahiko tangled her legs with his, and jabbed him in the stomach.
He wheezed.
She hit again.
Chouboyou brought his elbow down-jamming it on her cheekbone, and pressed down. He raised his arm for a lariat. Ahiko struck his side with her fingers, and there was but a second, until they punctured through flesh and teared through sinew with ease. When Chouboyou reared back to scream, she jammed her shaft onto his neck.
Chouboyou felt the strain on his neck, the familiar pressure of his throat being constricted. It threw him into a frenzy. He thrashed ramming the tip of his elbow into Ahiko's stomach, drawing a pained gasp from woman, her spear was relieved from his neck, and Chouboyou jumped back, shoulders hunching, body tensing, he was ready to attack.
Ahiko sprinted forward, seizing her chance-Chouboyou was winded-still recovering, she threw a kick aiming low, knocking him off of his base and sending him airborne.
"Akame!"
A flash of movement erupted beam past the curly haired woman, Akame angled her blade, surging forward. Chouboyou braced for the blow, he couldn't block or dodge the blow. He couldn't stop it either. He was baited, out witted, and the if Akame had her way she'd be taking a chunk of him. Not only was her speed terrifying, but the power that was behind her stroke was just as terrifying-if it struck it'd rip off his shoulder, and part of his right side.
"FANG OVER FANG!"
Their world spun and turned uncontrollably. They struggled to control their flight-it all came to a screeching and abrupt halt as they smashed spine first into chunky boles. The boles cried out with splinters. They lost foundation and collapsed shaking the earth and throwing up debris. Daishiro's heart raced. It felt like the earth was going to split next to him. Chouboyou coughed, grunting. Anger pooled within him like the blood oozing from his skull. He turned, slowly, and smirked.
His foes lay fallen and broken-Ahiko's body was bent four times over.
"That was entertaining, I thought I was going to die." Chouboyou took a deep breath, eyes hovering towards the sky.
"Is that..." He narrowed his eyes, nose going into the air. He recognized the man standing atop the tree line. "That is Souji, what the hell..."
Souji jumped.
Chouboyou staggered back, mouth gaping. "What the fuck!?"
He wasn't sure if it was his scream that echoed, throbbed, and hurt his ears and throat so bad he felt like blood would ooze from them. Perhaps it was everyone screaming and roaring. They witnessed a lot of things, but never before had they witnessed a man do what Souji had done. Shinobi would cut, pierce, or use a jutsu, but they wouldn't use their body as a missile.
"He had to be over seven hundred feet..." Chouboyou breathed out, body shaking.
"SOUJI!"
Ahiko ran as fast as she could.
She was there one second, and the next she was screaming-miles away.
"SOUJI!"
"He jumped!?" Daishiro snapped in fury. He was about to sprint in that direction, but discipline kept him in place. He snarled, furious. "What the fuck!? What the fuck was that!?"
"It's the only way he could put Atsushi down!" Akame shouted, thrown into a frenzy by her cousin's actions. "This battle is ours! I'm going to the docks, finish things here!"
"Wait!"
"No! The time is ripe!"
Daishiro snarled, eyes glinting.
"That bitch! I swore I killed her." Chouboyou gnashed his teeth, foaming. "That fucking Yuhi!"
"You're a crass man." Chie grumbled.
Chouboyou roared.
Chie dug her fingers through his scalp, sneering as she yanked him harshly. She jammed her kunai through him, slowly, several times. She started with his chest. The first piercing had been to his ribs. She got his lung. She continued, holding him in place as he began to tremble and shake. She slammed her ankle into his own, slamming him into the ground. He clutched her throat. She brought her kunai down onto his chest and stomach, pressing down when his guard gave, and jammed it all the way through his side.
Chie finally slid the kunai across his throat. She wasn't going to waste anymore time, it was time to finish this fight. She formed a seal, and with a start, Chouboyou stopped moving, a long breath escaping.
"Wh...en..."
"That time I landed a punch, it worked up until you saw Souji!"
Chouboyou's eyes closed, and his body stilled.
Daishiro approached. His right arm was bleeding, but he managed to raise his broken sword with his left.
"Hold on."
Daishiro snarled, eyes cold as a glacier. "Why do you stop me?"
Chie motioned towards the docks. "We've got to get over there. We have our priority, Chouboyou is taken care of. Besides, this man caused a lot of suffering...He doesn't need or deserve a swift death."
Daishiro tossed his sword to the ground, turning swiftly as he headed for the docks.
Chie's eyes shifted. "Don't mistake this for mercy. I usually kill my foes slowly, it ensures they are dead."
Mikito cleared out the ship she had been in. Cannon fire breached the side. Bodies were torn apart by the concussive force, and those unlucky, only lost a limb or two and died a slow death. They bled out, or were burned where they slumped, half paralyzed. Yuko and Madara went into the lower levels, she went two levels before banking. She cleared out the two levels, killing anyone in her path.
Yuko stayed close to her side. They moved as a single entity that was unstoppable. Their guard couldn't be penetrated and nobody could withstand their blitz. They didn't hold back the slightest. There had been a point were Yuko gouged her fingers into and through a man's throat. They cleared out three levels of the seventh ship, and moved onto clearing out the smaller ships. There were no stairs to descend-these boats were all one level. Cannon fire obliterated everything and its roars were like thunder.
Yuko forewent cutting through her foes at one point, and just smashed the boat to pieces with her foot. She stabbed whoever was lucky enough to survive her attack. Mikito flanked her the whole way-constantly guarding her. Many foes came at the girl's left side-like sharks honing in on blood, but Mikito kept them at bay and whacked them down.
They eventually got separated.
Yuko going after one ship, carried away by an Inuzuka.
Mikito went after another, carried away by an Akimichi.
She didn't have to think the slightest. She didn't hesitate. She had no reservations. Her body moved of its own accord-years of training made her a machine in every sense of the word. The moves and techniques flowed like water. Her blade moved with a deadly grace, and her punchs-swift and fluid as they were, held deceptive, crushing power that made bones shatter and pop audibly.
A door separated her from the next room. She kicked it down. Candles-long and white, placed on trays made for them were burning. Judging from how much wax was dripping, they were burning for a while. She took one step in, and then another, pointing her sword ahead of her. There were traces of light, but deeper down the hall, it was dark. Candles lit up both ways at the cross section, but getting there required going through the darkness.
Mikito pressed the ball of her right foot into the floor. She shifted forward an inch at a time, barely taking steps. Her blade shined through the darkness, and sent it scurrying away when its depths tried to swallow her. She was pounced on, just as things began to darken. Mikito was already in action, her blade easily sliding through the length of her attacker's torso.
She let him fall, and turned, shoving aside four attackers in a show of brute force. They tried to press against her, but she was controlling the tempo of this battle, not them. She marched towards her opposition, steps growing harsher and harsher. She swung her sword down, teeth grit. She growled, inhaling sharply as her handle rattled violently in he grasp-her blade nearly screeching.
Straining, she press down, pushing with everything she could muster. Her blade cut through the remainder of her foe's collarbone, through his torso, and finally exited out near his hip. A punch dazed her, and another sent her into a rage. Mikito craned her head up, eyes burning, as yet another fist struck her cheek. She grinned, thrusting her blade through the man's chest. It went through with ease, puncturing his organs as it went. She gripped him by the throat, snarling as she slammed him into the wall.
Her surrounding enemies tried to use the opening, but she wasn't going to allow that. She used the massive Akimichi in her grasp to fend them off, and crush some into the wall or floor. It wasn't easy throwing around the Akimichi, and the man was trying his damn hard to throttle her. She stabbed through his neck-piercing through a foreigner behind him. Her blade went through the center of his throat, ripped through his windpipe.
Blood gurgled up, soaking her sleeves.
Mikito swiveled aside, feet hastily sliding across the floor as a tremendous weight slammed into her. Chakra cushioned her side, willpower and grit absorbed the rest. She twisted to the side, driving her attacker's sword along with her. She strained again. The foreigner had been quick to attack her-he was desperate to live and she could see it in his eyes.
She yanked her sheath free, smashing it across the man's torso. He gasped, trying to stagger back, but the force was great, and the movement forced him to twist his ankle as he flew back, ribs cracking audibly while his body contorted from the force of her attack. She grabbed the next foreigner by the neck squeezing until his face turned red, and squeezed until his eyes went wide, about to bulge from his skull.
She jammed her sword into the next man's side, pushing until it protruded from his back on the other side by his kidney. She put her foot against him, and shoved forward. He could only manage a pained groan as he clutched at the gushing wound. He hit the nearby wall, and slide against it, teeth gritting hard. Mikito raised her blade, eyes cold as ice.
She brought it down.
"Got you now, you bitch!"
The Inuzuka grunted. He had made a mad charge, and she met it with a calm deflection. She pressed forward, meeting the attack. Her foe twisted, parrying her strike and reached for her neck. Mikito snatched him by the wrist and shifted at the last second. Her foe ended up turning into more men that were rushing behind him.
Mikito stomped ahead, the writhing beneath her feet didn't even catch her attention, nor did the screams. The sickening long gasps that turned into chokes never reached her ears. Her blade came down diagonally. The Inuzuka tried to scramble away, but was clipped on the skull. His body jolted, then froze in pain. Part of his skull slid off, wet and slick.
Blood and screams slammed against her, but she pressed ahead. These were sounds of battle, something she was more than familiar with. There was no pity, no empathy, no sympathy, no emotions at all. There were never emotions in battle or war, she always bottled them away. Another thirty men came hastily surrounding her, but were ultimately forced back and into another tumble.
She swung her sheath and blade. There was nothing graceful about it. There was nothing rand about it. Mikito felled her foes with stabs to the throat and face, her blade puncturing through cheekbones, spluttering flesh, and cleaving through bones itself. Her sheath came whipping around like an iron wrecking ball. It rung with each impact, heads and bones alike cracked and shattered, spilling out fragments across the floor. Some of them tried to stagger in retreat, choking and screaming.
Mikito sent one Inzuka crashing through a wall, several could only gasp and fall to their death clutching at their necks. She drew her arm back. Her muscles heaved, but there wasn't tremendous strain jarring her. Her blade pierced through his body like butter slipping through his right lung, and coming out from the back by his spine. Mikito didn't remove her blade until all the life left her foe, and it was with a swift yank she tore her blade free.
She growled dashing, blade cutting, saya battering and bashing, she constantly remained on the move. Faster than lightning and moving more abrupt than shadows appearing and vanishing. Even in her evasions or simple movements, she didn't stop swinging. Her blade whacked, even when it was bloody, and her saya continued to batter, even though it was dripping. Her eyes burned. Her nostrils flared.
She sprung from the floor evading a bullet and took the opening-stabbing into the man's forearm. He screamed, pulling back. Mikito braced, but still gave him slack. She took three steps with him before she stopped, stomping on his foot. There wasn't a pause. She turned slamming him through the wall, crushing his right arm against his body. She retracted her blade, slicing as she went-his wrist split in two, hanging before his middle finger, and the part of his hand leading up to it was also split in half.
She performed another arc.
She ran through the shower of gore, angling her blade for the next kill.
"Stop her from getting to the main chambers!"
Mikito let out a scream. Her throat, parched began to peel. She could taste blood. The bitterness of iron, the musk of wood. All of these people before her were gnats. Bugs. They should have just got out of her way instead of being so foolish. These foreigners had no love for shinobi, the slightest. Doing anything for them-a damiyo and foreigner cohesion so to speak, was folly. Hashirama wasn't attempting to help this slavery along-he had his main priorities.
Her blade sang red. The man before her fell to his knees, before hitting his head off of the ground. Part of his skull was gone-his hair along with it. The cut was precise and neat.
"You're..." An Akimichi shinobi clenched his teeth, backing up.
"A monster." Someone else finished.
Mikito took a deep breath. She was beyond the threshold now. She slowly, carefully, shifted her left foot, pressing the ball of her foot into the floor. She pressed, shifting forward, right foot following. There were a good four hundred people waiting for her. Remarkably, the foreigners, Inuzuka, and Akimichi were banding together-at least in here.
That was no problem.
Unlike the Subatsu-who favored battles over the landscape, the Domou favored battles in confined spaces. They could easily do both, but they had their preferences. That being said, taking on so many people at once was problematic. She had the weight of the Akimichi, the bullets and swords of the foreigners, and then there were the Inuzuka.
However, her blade was already bent and warp-her others blade had been discarded and broke upon hitting too much bone.
No reservations.
"I suppose you're right..." Mikito trailed off-her blade and saya flashed with wind chakra.
She sprinted right for her opposition. The Akimichi tried to retreat while some pressed ahead, the Inuzuka charged, and the foreigners fired. Mikito put on a burst of speed, just dodging a bullet as it struck the wall beside her.
Her blade arced. Blood flew, like a wave. Several sets of legs ran into walls, missing their torsos. Heads spilled out their contents from the stub of a neck and the cavity carved into the cranium. A scream of horror rang through the corridor and Mikito howled at the nuisance. She shoved him hard, jamming her blade into his neck.
She pulled down, hard, sliding as well.
"Aggghhhhhhh!"
"Wuuaaaaaaggghhhhhh!"
"Get the fuck out of here!" An Inuzuka screamed, eye wide with horror.
"Get the fuck out of my way.
Mikito took slow steps-blood slid along her hair, before it dipped onto her shoulders, and fell off the sleeve of her haori. The action repeated itself over and over, but over her entire body.
She halted an Inuzuka.
"You're a witch!"
Mikito looked the man in the eye, and a part of her reveled in seeing his pride being shattered.
She swiped.
His body slumped down-the remains of his head, and what was inside, were everywhere else.
Unfortunately for her-her focus had been adverted for a short time, and that allowed some of her opposition to retreat. More were still coming after her, but she wasn't going to let any single one of them get away with their lives. She would end them.
She charged. She crossed her blade and saya in an X. An Inuzuka made the mistake of meeting her head on. His body was peeled. It looked as if he were a potato, with the skin hanging off more than halfway. Seeing this, the others ran. Mikito was moving far too swiftly and violently to just stop. Momentum and velocity were carrying her as well.
She whacked through the wall of people. Her entire body rattled once the screams sounded, all at once. It was just a reflex. Something that happened whenever something of this magnitude happened. She found stable ground, and moved on-honing in on her targets. The foreigner raised his gun, and used the butt to strike. Mikito punched the butt of gun. Her knuckles burned with pain. he stomped down, crushing his foot, and then snapped his leg at the knee and thigh.
She watched him fall, clutching his bloody thigh.
His bone protruded.
She raised her blade, whacking him down and ten in the process. She broke her stride, but she pressed on without any reprieve. As her foot met its mark, and sent her foe tumbling away, she brought her blade down-slashing an Akimichi through at the forehead. Blood oozed from the wound, and his skin sputtered as it loosened from the skull.
Her second and third strokes cut him across the skull. The second left his skull in two, and the third left even less of it present. His body dropped with a thud. An opening was made, and she forced her way forward and into the room. There were knots of people now, but they did little to impede her. She shoved down her foes, tripping them and breaking their legs in the process, brought her blade and sheath down vertically, diagonally, horizontally, and every other possible direction. She whacked down her last few foes in one swing-the forth and last, was shoved into the wall-the splinters went through his skull.
Mikito looked at her blade-noting how much shorter it was.
She looked at her sheath and it was nearly crimson completely.
"Why did you..."
Mikito looked at the gathering crowd of men.
They all looked the same to her.
Evil was evil.
Evil had to be slain swiftly.
"Stop attacking me..."
Upon getting no answer-Mikito focused on the older Akimichi at the head of the group.
Fear.
Mikito opened a scroll.
A poof of smoke appeared before fading.
Mikito grabbed the nodachi deftly. She slammed her palm on the hilt-red cord wrapped perfectly, and drew it swiftly from its black saya. It was taller than her, and the blade shined with the same intent as Mikito. It reveled and thrived in its wielder's grasp.
She dropped the sheath.
The sword vibrated, shaking uncontrollably like Mikito.
She went on the attack.
She moved.
Her blade moved.
If they were going to be stunned and shell shocked, she'd just take advantage, It took but a few seconds for them to realize they were really in battle and she was charging at them with a nodachi. She didn't swivel, she didn't dodge past stabs and slashes aimed to cut her trachea and pierce her armor, she didn't block or dodge punches, and she didn't slam blade on blade, there were far too many of them to do something so foolish. She wouldn't even used the side of her blade to meet or counter strikes.
She overpowered them.
She simply cut them before they could react. She stabbed through them, torsos, legs, and limbs just the same. She'd heave them up and toss them away, using their dangling limbs to batter aside the rest of her foes. She was brutal, and she grew more brutal. Each attack painted her red, it left her hands drenched, it left her blade carving for more. She cut them before they could even reach her. She marched ahead, stance as strong as it was aggressive. She took a wild swing, cutting a her first foe's legs off, and she turned, cutting through part of his waist. The blade slid through with ease, sending part of his side spilling onto the ground.
She brought her blade back, and thrust forward.. Blood oozed out of the wound. She clenched her hands tighter, and took a step forward. Her body shook, and the Inuzuka grasping her blade shook just as violently. He smirked. Miktio yanked he blade free. His body fell, hitting the floor. He rolled for a second before he took his last breath. She stabbed forward, growling as met resistance. Her blade ripped into her foe's shoulder joint. He screamed. Mikito yanked her blade out, and swept him to the ground before bringing it back down.
She deflected one slash, smacking another a few inches off of its trajectory, and redirected a stab. She chambered her stroke, stabbing into the man's neck and shifted. He let out a shaking, dying scream. His neck split with ease, and the bones chipped-flying out from the wound. Mikito let out a gasping scream, teeth clenched. Her blade pierced through her attacker's arm, she felt her arms slack for a second, and she took steps forward-fighting the feeling, and stabbed through another man, and another.
And another.
Mikito grunted and seethed holding her ground, and the immense weight pressing down on her blade. Her sword was dripping with blood, but remained sharp. She was able to count her foes that were impaled, or had their limbs impaled.
Her vision hazed.
Three hundred!
She charged ahead, screaming.
Stabbing.
Stabbing.
Stabbing.
Mikito slammed her next foe into the wall. She used her block to ram the side of her blade into his side-he was in mid stride when the attack came, and his breath left him once the side of the blade connected with his ribs. The rest was impact, that carried him into the wall. They wre in close suarters, though, the wall basically imploded, and the spectacle was enough to make Mikito jump away.
She drew back, unleashing two attacks in unison. It was to create a barrier more than anything. While she had the reach advantage, and was stabbing dozens of people at a time, they could easily turn her long blade against her if she wasn't careful. Seven Inuzuka and dozens of foreigners could only croak in agony. Her blade scythed through their flesh, pressing her newfound advantage, she swung back around, blade cleaving through the next wave of men.
"Aggghhhhhh!"
She watched arms and fingers fly straight off to the side, the bones of the limbs popping out in some. Their fingers were half clenched as the nerves still fired off before dying. Arms and legs spiraled around along with heads. She clenched her teeth smashing her foot square against her next foe's chest. He crashed into three men head on, the impact drove everyone to the floor. Mikito pushed against the force, shaking, and pressed ahead, felling two dozen, three dozen, four dozen, five, seven, ten, and...
She heaved a breath, kicking her zori against the Akimichi's chest-she half stumbled, and her leg extended before she was ready to chamber her arms. Her blade was yanked back, the Akimichi's chest exploded in gore, and her blade, swift as the wind, speared out of his flesh, reducing his massive body to a mere half.
Mikito screamed, raising her blade and smacked aside another attack.
She stepped back with some urgency, but held her ground.
Knowing how much time passed was impossible, but she could feel the slick layer of sweat and blood coating her forehead. It trailed down to the rest of her body. Her arms felt heavy, and light. She couldn't feel her lungs-not even the burn. Her face throbbed continuously, with each pulsation, a new bruise began to form. Her legs kept moving, obeying her commands.
Regardless, she knew things were starting to swing out of her favor. She lost count of how many men she cut down or ran through. At one point she had twenty men gouged onto her blade-it nearly broke the blade, and her arm, but she had managed to swing them around like a sort of battering ram. Each exertion was chalking into her endurance, and while she had no need for concern, she didn't want them to turn it into a test of endurance.
That'd mean she was forced on the defensive.
Mikito pressed ahead with a newfound urgency. A newfound ferocity. Her blade circled and whipped around her a million times over-it pierced through the darkness and her foes alike, dazzling and startling them. It appeared as if she were surrounded by a thousand blades, each moving of its own accord and will. Each moving in a different direction, honed in for the killing shot.
She began tearing through anyone who got in her way, she cut blades in two and cleaved bone, blood sprayed around her, consuming her, and she stepped through the oppressive shower without a moment's reprieve. She pressed forward a few inches, colliding with two dozen men, blade on blade, pushing them back and away. More than five fell to the floor, struggling to get up as fast as they could.
She didn't give them the chance, and stomped on them much like a child would if he or she were having a fit. Bones broke. Heads were squashed. Mikito even slipped and fell, losing her bloodied sandals.
Another horde same at her, and this time...
A blast of force knocked her to the side. Her head bounced off the wall. She felt the puncture before it happened. Right on her left side-just below her temple. She couldn't guess how long the cut was, nor its depth, but she could feel blood oozing from the wound. Sound and light distorted into noise, before noise faded to nothing but black, and nausea.
Her eyes focused once more.
She felled the first man with a clumsy horizontal stroke, splitting through his side, the next two attacked with vigor screaming in fury, teeth grit and feet digging into the floor. Mikito pivoted, her blade cleaved further-spewing out blood and organs, it ripped through the foreigner's spine, and exited neatly. It whacked down the next two to come, and the ten after that. Mikito turned harshly, feet gouging into the floor as she made a swift advance. A sharp pain erupted in her lower back and she grunted loud enough to hear.
She grabbed her next attacker, sending him to the floor, and stabbed him in the chest. He went for his firearm, and Mikito jammed her knee into his spine. She shifted forward, dragging her body, her blade protruded from his neck three times, and on the third time it sliced downward towards his trachea. It made its exit, and Mikito had to drag it through the floor in order to chamber the next strike.
She finally paused, breathing coming to a stop.
"Mikito!"
"Yuko!"
Madara was roaring.
"She's in the lower levels!"
Harada's voice boomed over explosions.
"Don't let that bastard get away!"
Shinpachi was livid.
"Run him through!"
Mitsuki shrieked in fury.
"Where's Yuko!?"
"On a different boat!"
"Shit! Which one!?"
"Hikaku is closer to Mikito!"
"I'll send a clone, shit!"
"Hurry! There's thousands of men down there, they'll outnumber her!"
Mikito's blade clattered to the floor, noisily.
"We got her now!"
"Hurry and grab her before she attacks again!"
"Attacking a Domou head on, with your bare hands..." Mikito said, grasping two men by the neck-her hands tensed, and all at once-the men's head cleared from their shoulders, parts of their spine dangling from flesh.
Blood poured onto the floor, and the head Mikito held a bit higher, was draining blood on her side.
"Is the biggest mistake you will ever make."
Mikito clenched her hands, feeling the blood ooze out from between the wrinkles of her palm. Her fingers clenched harder, bones cracking, and finally, her bigger knuckles bulged as her hands turned into fists. She grabbed the foreigner and Inuzuka by their throats. They flailed and thrashed. She shook and strained. She clenched her fingers.
She dropped them, wordlessly pressing ahead.
Madara would hold her back once he got here.
She came to another threshold, hand still clutching part of a torso. The head, limbs, and most of the body itself was gone.
"What the hell-"
Mikito shook, lips parting, face starting to contort.
She trembled, seething.
A foreigner, dressed in finer clothes than the others-stood before her, just a few feet away.
She tossed the bloody carcass at him.
His eyes widened in shock.
Mikito stepped through the darkness...Blood followed her, dripping, moving in wide swaths.
Her footsteps bled.
"You! You!"
"Help me! Somebody help me! Get the guns ready!"
Hedashed for the room he had come from.
She caught up to him, grabbed him by the chin, and snapped her hands to the side.
She looked him in the eye-even though his neck was broke, he was very much alive and conscious. She hadn't twisted it like she normally would have. She grabbed him by the hair, fingers digging into his skull until blood oozed out from the wounds and he was screaming bloody murder.
Mikito pulled as hard as she could.
The man's body hit the floor.
His screams pierced through everything.
Mikito stepped on his head, grinding her foot down on his skull.
She raised it again, smashing it down.
"Get the guns ready!"
"Fire!"
"Kill that witch! Kill her! Kill her!
Mikito came to the entrance of the room, and stared down the men.
A burly man stood in front of them, and his grin was a feral one.
He stood at eight feet, his hair spiky and wild.
He wore simple garbs-he held a large cleaver within his hands.
Next to him was a man that stood nine feet, and had to be about three times heavier than the feral man.
"Hiroji Inuzuka and Hitoshi Akimichi."
Hiroji inclined his chin, signaling the men behind him. "Seeing you like that..."
Hitoshi's eyes tightened upon seeing Mikito's bloodied form. "You look like a witch. What were you doing just now? Tearing people to pieces like a scroll!?"
"You know that saying..."
"Expect the unexpected."
Mikito advanced, head angled down.
Hiroji roared, thrashing violently in a whirlwind of power.
Hitoshi brandished his staff and began to rip and shred through the walls.
All Hiroji could see was red.
All Hitoshi could see was a mad man and a witch.
All Mikito could see was red.
She was drowning in it.