All right, here's the next one!
Please be aware that I have no talent for fight scenes – so thank you SO much for your feedback about the last one. It was very reassuring. But this one nearly killed me anyway.
BTW: I've decided to split this fic. Sounds terrible, but it won't make the updates come slower or quicker than they would have anyway. I simply find fics with much more than 50 chapters personally unattractive and intimidating. So … BaH has maybe 10 more chapters to go. Part 2 will be called Of Cutting Cords and Forging Chains and will cover the canon timeline (or at least most of it).
Also, I've realized that I should, maybe, add a few more line breaks. I don't like them because I'm also using them for starting and ending my ANs, but it would make my scene changes look less like non-sequiturs.
Hisana sends the boys along while she and Kohaku-sensei stay behind to analyze the match between Hanada and Temari's remaining bodyguard. They leave with a cheery promise to bring her sweets and tea.
As soon as the two contestants step into the arena Hisana activates her Sharingan; a flare of chakra tells her that she's not the only one using a doujutsu to follow the fight.
"You should preserve your chakra," Sensei tells her, but she only grins at him.
"Did you know," she drawls, fishing a little bottle of her own from her pocket, "that the Nara supply about 90 percent of Konoha's medicinal herbs? They even make their own chakra replenishing pills."
Which is only slightly illegal, because the recipe isn't registered with the hospital. She shakes the plastic container, making the little black tablets rattle inside. They taste terrible but they do the job. While the regulation pills supply you with a hefty boost and can cause internal bleeding if overused, the Nara version is far less potent but can be eaten like bonbons – if you can deal with the persistent peppery taste.
The referee whistles and Hisana fixes her eyes on the pair downstairs. The winner will be pitted against Haru, and the Sharingan will help her reproduce their moves for a mock battle later on.
Saitou Gorou is, to her surprise, a genjutsu type while Hanada appears to be a jack of all trades. He manages to catch her in an illusion long enough to land a single hit, but for such a slim girl she holds her ground remarkably.
In the end she simply outlasts him, faster and more agile than his bulky frame. Interestingly there's not a single flashy ninjutsu in this fight, yet the crowd seems more animated than during Temari's match. Maybe it's easier to appreciate the entertainment value if you don't care about the constants, she muses. It's midday and after the examiner lifts Hanada Mami's hand in victory he announces a break until afternoon when the sun has passed the zenith.
The air is stifling at this point and Hisana is pretty sure she needs to re-apply her sunscreen. The Konoha regulation stuff simply isn't made for Suna weather. She hopes the boys didn't forget her tea.
When they step out into the streets, carefully avoiding a gloating and battle-high Hanada, Haru and Sora are already jogging up to them, arms loaded with plastic bags.
"Stuff," Sora presents proudly, shoving one of them into Hisana's hands. There's iced tea buried at the bottom and when she pries open one of the paper packages there are shiny black beetles inside. She makes a kissy-face at her teammates and Sora swoons dramatically. Haru's face has regained its color – or as much color as it usually has – and when he hands Kohaku-sensei his share of the kill he seems more relaxed than she's seen him since Konoha. This is good for him, she thinks. A little confidence boost. She hopes it'll stay that way even if he screws up tomorrow.
Sora's nerves show in a different way than their teammate's. Instead of going quiet he becomes louder, trying not to think about the match and work off nervous energy. Hisana isn't sure what the better way is – think everything to death and plan a million strategies or not to overthink. Hisana is more like Haru that way, going quiet and driving herself crazy. So she has no idea how to help Sora. A little helplessly she takes to ignoring his erratic behavior and laughing a little louder at his silly jokes.
Around 4 o'clock the heat hasn't gone down one bit, but the sun has lost enough of its bite to make it bearable. Akiba is already there, lounging in the stands. He looks absolutely confident and it makes Hisana nervous. At first glance he has nothing to be confident about. Sora is at least a head taller than him and there are no notable weapons on him. A ninjutsu specialist? It would make sense; those are usually heavy-hitters.
Sora's eyes immediately fixate on him, mouth snapping shut mid-sentence, and from that moment on they might as well not have existed. The spectators fill the stadium and the examiner takes his place, but her teammate pays none of them any attention. Instead he causally swings his legs over the barrier and drops into the arena.
When the examiner has them take the customary five steps apart Sora walks them backwards.
"W-what's wrong with him?" she hisses at Kohaku-sensei who only shakes his head.
"What do you think you look like during battle?"
A shrill whistle sounds from below, followed by a collision so loud that Hisana whips her head around.
"Whoa!"
Unremarkable little Akiba has hulked the hell out – it can't be anything but a kekkei genkai – and has crashed head first into a hastily erected stone wall and this is a B-rank technique … what have her teammates been doing without her? There are eerie veins running up and down Akiba's legs and his shirt seems to have become a little tight. He breathes out black smoke before climbing the wall like a spider. But when he gets to the other side Sora is already gone.
They watch aghast as the Iwa-nin stomps around the arena, trying to find a trace of his opponent's chakra. She absently wonders how long he can keep this up; his chakra signature is fluctuating like crazy. Sora is still nowhere to be seen, but Akiba's stomping is getting more frantic –
"Look at that," Haru breathes.
She leans further over the barrier, straining her eyes, and snorts out an incredulous laugh. Akiba isn't stomping in anger – he's trying to avoid Sora's hands darting out of the ground, trying to pull him under. "This is so bizarre," her teammate whispers next to her. Hisana has to agree. Every once in a while Sora succeeds catching Akiba's foot and dragging him to the knee into the ground, but the Iwa-nin's enormous strength lets him free himself in a matter of seconds.
Neither of them can keep this up forever, Hisana thinks worriedly. She sincerely hopes Sora can end this on his own terms instead of letting Akiba drag him out of the ground.
With a wet, sucking noise Akiba sinks down up to his thighs, and this time Sora comes crawling out of the sandy ground behind him. His chakra is depleted, but there's still this hyper-focused expression on his face, as if he isn't worried at all. And then he slides into a stance that looks suspiciously like the Juuken. Next to them Kohaku-sensei makes a surprised little noise.
'Genius'. The term had fallen only once in connection to her dorky teammate; she wonders how true it is exactly. There's no chakra gathered in his hands, but except for her and the two Hyuugas in the stands nobody knows that. His moves are almost perfect and a murmur goes through the crowd; the Kazekage leans forward interestedly. Akiba stumbles back, bewilderment distorting his face even more than his kekkei genkai. Sora's swipe misses him by inches.
They circle around each other, the hypnotic movement only broken when Akiba has enough and charges forward. There's a sickening crack when his foot catches Sora's shin and it snaps clean in half. Hisana's stomach turns when she glimpses white bone. But Akiba's petty victory costs him; instead of collapsing Sora grasps his collar. None of his strikes is charged with chakra, except for the last one, catching Akiba directly between the eyes. The boy slaps his hands to his face.
"He hit it," Kohaku-sensei says, sounding unreasonably pleased. "He hit the tenketsu. I am afraid though that was too much chakra."
For a moment Sora only stares, as if unable to belief he actually hit anything at all, and just for a second he looks like her teammate again. Do it, she thinks, do it now. And he does. Shifting his weight onto his broken leg he throws up his foot and brings the heel down on Akiba's ribcage. Blood spurts out of the boy's mouth and the examiner ends the match in a hurry. Two medics come sprinting into the arena, one sinking down next to an unmoving Akiba, the other only just catching Sora as his injured leg collapses under him.
Only now Hisana realizes how out of breath she feels. Popping another Nara pill she makes her way past her team and into the arena. Her match is next, so nobody stops her, even when she steps past the medic and leans down to her teammate.
She doesn't ask how he is, because he looks like crap. Instead she wants to know, "How did you do it?"
He grins at her tiredly and reaches out to poke her in the forehead where Kohaku-sensei used to seal her Sharingan.
"Seen it enough on your face. Only one I know though."
Strangely, Hisana doesn't feel nervous about her own match at all. Maybe it's because she's seen both her teammates succeed already. Or maybe it's because she's been dealing with Hyuuga for years at this point. Whatever it is, Naoki has Neji's cheekbones and Kohaku-sensei's nose and he doesn't scare her at all. She fights the urge to smile at the scowling boy.
They face each other across the arena. It's the first time Hisana has to perform in front of such a crowd – and it is a performance. She remembers vividly that during the Konoha Chuunin Matches Shikamaru was rewarded for his quick thinking and self-awareness even though he lost. You may lose, but make it good. For the first time she's glad for the sparse attendance instead of disappointed. The whistle sounds.
As one they shoot forward to enter close combat, doujutsus blazing. Naoki's Juuken is spread out over his entire palm, so her usual technique of blocking won't work. Instead she goes for his wrists, twisting them out of the way while trying to get her foot somewhere close to his chest. He's good, she thinks. Not as fast as Neji, but stronger and damn wily. Never once does she manage to pin his hands. He yanks her legs out from under her and they both tumble to the floor. For a moment they wrestle, but before it can descend into a crude brawl she rolls them to the side and gives him a kick. He skids over the sandy ground in a straight line.
Hisana pants. She can't let him get too close. Only one mistake and she'll have a problem.
When Naoki jumps to his feet, Hisana comes to a decision. She draws her bokken.
He eyes her weapon with a hint of apprehension, before trying to dart a hand past her defense again. In turn he gets a harsh whack to his wrist.
She aims the point at his sternum again and again until she slips past his quick hands. He wheezes at the impact, but nothing gives yet. Too slow, not enough force. Hisana jerks the wood back, grabbing it in a hold more reminiscent of a bo staff to drive him backwards.
A good thing, she thinks, that Hyuuga aren't usually proficient with weapons.
Their hands are dangerously quick though and so it doesn't take him long to grab a hold of the wood and do exactly what Kohaku-sensei warned her of: he pumps it full of chakra and it bursts in both their faces. Time slows down as the Sharingan fixates on a splinter directly aimed at her left eye. She bats it away. Only a split second of distraction, but it's enough. Naoki goes for it. A familiar dull pain marks her right arm as useless as the Hyuuga seals a row of tenketsu at her shoulder.
She stumbles back, thoughts racing. No jutsus, no weapon, no use of her arm. The Hyuuga advances on her, eyes still wary, as if she were a wild animal. His breathing is equally hard and she takes pleasure in the fact that no matter what, she won't make it easy for him.
Her Sharingan feel itchy and irritated, but she forces more chakra into them. Come on, she thinks, come closer, come on. They lock eyes. Illusions are useless; the Byakugan sees though them as easily as she does. But this isn't an illusion. His eyes go glassy for a moment and he sways. Hisana gives him a serene smile that he returns somewhat stupidly. Her hold on him is tentative. He's fighting it, shaking his head and blinking his eyes as if it would get rid of the fog in his brain.
But it's enough for Hisana to grab hold of what's left of her bokken. The biggest splinter is almost the size of her forearm and it ends in a nasty, jagged point. The broken wood digs into her palm. It's fine, she thinks and makes herself take calm, measured steps towards the boy, muffling her chakra signature and stopping any killing intent she might be giving off. No need to be alarmed. I'm not the enemy. She feels relaxed and tired. They are relaxed and tired.
When she stops in front of him something flickers in his eyes. Alarm, maybe. Awareness. But she sticks the splintered bokken into his shoulder and it doesn't matter anymore. Whatever control she might have had on him breaks with the sound of his flesh giving way. His hand shoots out, fueled by adrenaline and instinct, and catches her in the throat.
Hisana is thrown backwards be the force of his strike. The pain is negligible, but the shock drives the air out of her lungs and nothing comes back in. Pressure builds up deep in her chest. She desperately tries to shake off the fog of false calm created by her own technique, but it's useless. Caught between panic and confusion she watches Naoki stagger closer, eyes cleared by the shock of pain, and does the only thing that comes naturally: she kicks at the broken fragment in his shoulder, her foot catching it athwart. She's not sure what happens – can't muster enough brain power to wonder – but something makes an ominous sound inside the Hyuuga's body.
She watches, spots dancing in front of her eyes, as her opponent collapses. The sound of the examiner's whistle is distant but she tries to cling to it. A pair of hands reaches for her and then her vision grays out.