3RD POV
The wielder of Nuibari leapt down from his perch, landing gracefully on the forest floor. His presence alone radiated a chilling aura of death, and the way he held himself—straight and poised—only amplified his menace.
He was a thin, almost skeletal man, his tall and gangly frame giving him a haunting appearance. Long, unkempt straw-blond hair spilled over his shoulders, and his face was obscured by a white ANBU-style mask. A green triangle adorned the mask's lower half, and the symbol of Kirigakure was etched into its top, a stark reminder of his allegiance. His attire was as practical as it was ominous: a sleeveless black shirt, matching pants, and Kirigakure's signature striped wrist and leg guards. Bandages wrapped around his neck like a noose, adding to his foreboding look.
The Nuibari wielder tilted his head slightly, his eerie voice cutting through the forest's stillness. "I'll let you have the first move. It's no fun if I just kill you outright."
Ryuichi didn't waste a second. Forming a series of hand seals, he inhaled deeply before exhaling a massive fireball that roared toward the swordsman. Flames illuminated the dark forest, obscuring the Nuibari wielder in a wall of fire and smoke.
"Now!" Haru barked, and in an instant, the three genin vanished into the surrounding forest, their forms flickering out of sight.
The swordsman laughed, his voice resonating with dark amusement. "Good! A little game of cat and mouse makes it more satisfying." He casually waved his needle-like sword, his eyes scanning the area.
Suddenly, a barrage of kunai came hurtling at him from all sides, their sharp tips glinting in the firelight. He moved with unsettling ease, dodging and deflecting them with his blade, the kunai clattering harmlessly to the ground.
From the shadows, the wielder shot his needle-like sword in the direction the kunai had come from. The razor-thin weapon pierced through branches with frightening speed. Just as it was about to strike, a shimmering barrier erupted in its path.
Fuyumi stepped out from behind a tree, her palms pressed to the ground, her barrier halting the weapon in midair. The swordsman snarled in irritation, retracting the Nuibari and rushing at her with murderous intent.
Fuyumi ducked under his slashing blade, narrowly avoiding decapitation. With a quick flick of her wrist, she slapped a resistance seal onto his left leg. The swordsman's movement faltered for the briefest moment as the seal's effects began to weigh him down. But before Fuyumi could retreat, his right leg came crashing toward her, landing a devastating kick that sent her tumbling into the underbrush.
"Fuyumi!" Ryuichi shouted, leaping down from a tree while Haru emerged from another bush. The two genin charged at the Nuibari wielder, engaging him in close combat. Ryuichi's chakra-enhanced strength made the ground tremble with every strike, while Haru's precise Gentle Fist strikes aimed to disrupt the swordsman's chakra flow.
Yet the wielder of Nuibari was like a ghost—every attack they launched either missed entirely or grazed his armored limbs. His movements were effortless, a dance of evasion and counterattacks that left the two boys with shallow cuts on their arms and legs.
"You've got some impressive strength for a genin, kid," the swordsman remarked, his mocking tone directed at Ryuichi. "But raw power alone won't save you."
He took a step back, a cruel grin curling beneath his mask. "Maybe it's time I upped the ante."
With that, he gave a sharp tug on the thin wire attached to his sword.
Ryuichi froze as a sharp, searing pain shot up his left arm. He looked down in horror to see the Nuibari's chakra-infused wire digging into his flesh, slicing through muscle and bone with precision. The wire spiraled upward, twisting his arm into a grotesque vortex of blood and torn skin.
"Ahhh!" Ryuichi screamed, clutching his arm as blood sprayed onto the forest floor.
"Ryuichi!" Haru shouted, his voice a mixture of panic and fury. His eyes darted to his friend, then back to the swordsman, who was laughing maniacally.
"What's wrong?" the wielder sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "Didn't you know? Nuibari doesn't just stab—it stitches. It loves to sew its prey together, one cut at a time." He tugged on the wire again, and Ryuichi collapsed to his knees, his face contorted in agony.
Haru's heart pounded in his chest as he positioned himself between the swordsman and his injured teammate. "Fuyumi," he said through gritted teeth, his gaze locked on the enemy. But unbeknownst to the wielder a small smile tugged on his lips.
"NOW!" Haru shouted, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
Fuyumi slammed both palms onto the ground, her chakra surging through the forest floor. In an instant, ink erupted from her hands, snaking its way toward the swordsman like living tendrils. Kushimaru's eyes widened as he realized too late what was happening. Chains burst from the inked ground, binding his legs and rooting him in place.
At the same moment, ninja wires coiled around Nuibari, yanking his arm upward. His gaze followed the taut wires to see Haru holding them firmly, determination blazing in his white Byakugan eyes.
"You're not the only one who can use ninja wire!" Haru shouted as he quickly tossed the wires to Ryuichi, who gripped them tightly with his chakra-enhanced strength. The blade, now tethered and immobilized, shimmered uselessly in the air.
The wielder's cold demeanor cracked into a scowl, his voice laced with disdain. "Did you really think this would stop me?" With a sudden motion, he released Nuibari, letting the weapon drop to the ground. In one fluid movement, he drew a kunai from his hip and intercepted Haru's oncoming strike with a sharp metallic clang. Their blades locked for only a second before The wielder twisted his wrist, driving his kunai straight into Haru's chest.
Blood sprayed as the blade pierced through, and Haru's body slumped against the swordsman. the wielder smirked, his voice dripping with mockery. "You children and your little games—"
But then, Haru's form shimmered and dissolved into water.
"A water clone?" The wielder hissed, his eyes narrowing in realization. He whirled around to where his sword had been restrained.
In Nuibari's place now stood the real Haru, a sealing tag gripped firmly in his hand. His Byakugan locked onto Kushimaru as a small, triumphant smile crept onto his face.
The wielder's shock quickly melted into an eerie giggle, his shoulders shaking with manic laughter. "I can't believe this. I was outplayed... by mere genin! So this was your plan all along—not to defeat me, but to steal Nuibari." His laughter grew louder, echoing through the forest. Then, abruptly, it stopped. He looked directly at Haru, his voice calm but brimming with menace.
"You. I acknowledge you. You've earned the right to know my name. I am Kushimaru Kuriarare, a proud member of the Seven Swordsmen of the Mist."
"And I," Haru said, his voice unwavering as he brought his kunai up to his face in a stance of defiance, "am Haru Hyūga, the future Hokage of the Leaf."
For a moment, the forest stood still, the weight of their names hanging in the air like a thundercloud about to break.
Kushimaru's lip curled into a sinister grin. "I'll remember your name, Haru Hyūga. But don't think this is over." He twirled his kunai deftly between his fingers. "Did you forget? I'm a jōnin of Kirigakure. My sword is just one of my weapons."
Fuyumi and Ryuichi appeared next to Haru in a blur, their expressions tense. Ryuichi's breath came in ragged gasps, sweat dripping down his brow. His left arm hung stiffly at his side, his face contorted with pain.
"You think you can still fight, Ryuichi?" Haru asked, concern etched into his voice.
Ryuichi nodded firmly, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of hesitation. "My arm still works, but... it hurts like hell to move it."
"Then don't push too hard. All we have to do is survive until Kushina-sensei gets here." Haru glanced at Fuyumi, who gave a small nod of agreement, her hands already forming seals in preparation.
The tension in the air was suffocating as Kushimaru's eerie laugh echoed through the forest. The tall, masked swordsman tilted his head mockingly.
"Survive? Is that the little dream keeping you going? Don't get me wrong—I enjoy your spunk, but you're out of your depth, kids." His voice was laced with cruel amusement. "Let me show you what happens when you cross a true swordsman."
In an instant, Kushimaru vanished, his speed so great it left an afterimage.
Ryuichi barely had time to raise his good arm before Kushimaru reappeared in front of him, driving a brutal kick into his stomach. The force sent the boy flying backward, crashing into a tree with a sickening thud.
"Ryuichi!" Haru called out, his Byakugan tracing Kushimaru's every movement.
The masked man turned his gaze toward Haru, his eyes glinting behind the slits of his porcelain mask. "You're next, little Hyūga."
Kushimaru lunged at Haru with blinding speed, their kunai clashing in a flurry of sparks. Haru used his agility to dodge and weave, countering with strikes aimed at Kushimaru's chakra points. But the swordsman's movements were fluid and precise, parrying each blow with unnerving ease.
Haru managed to land a palm strike on Kushimaru's shoulder, sending a shockwave of chakra rippling through his body. Kushimaru staggered slightly, but he quickly retaliated with a roundhouse kick that Haru narrowly avoided.
As Haru shifted his weight to counter, Kushimaru flicked his wrist, launching a hidden blade from his sleeve. It sliced across Haru's arm, drawing blood and forcing him to retreat.
"Not bad," Kushimaru sneered, "but not good enough."
From the side, Fuyumi unleashed a barrage of kunai, each one glowing with seals that exploded on contact. The blasts forced Kushimaru to leap back, giving the genin a momentary reprieve.
"I've got you now!" Fuyumi shouted as she planted her hands on the ground, activating another barrier jutsu. Chains erupted from the earth, wrapping around Kushimaru's legs.
"Clever," Kushimaru admitted, his voice calm despite his predicament. "But it's not enough."
With a sharp tug, Kushimaru yanked his legs free, shattering the chains as if they were paper. Before Fuyumi could react, he closed the distance between them, slamming the hilt of his kunai into her stomach. She crumpled to the ground, gasping for air.
"You're quick with those barriers," he said, crouching down to her level. "But speed is worthless if you can't keep up."
Ryuichi forced himself to his feet, clutching his injured arm. "Get away from her!" he yelled, his chakra flaring. He charged at Kushimaru, launching a powerful punch with his remaining good arm.
Kushimaru caught Ryuichi's fist with ease, his strength overwhelming. "You're persistent," he remarked, twisting Ryuichi's arm and sending him crashing to the ground.
Haru, blood dripping from his wounds, staggered back into the fray. "We're not done yet!" he shouted, his Byakugan glowing fiercely.
Fuyumi lay sprawled on the ground, gasping for air, her strength all but gone. Kushimaru towered over her, his kunai glinting ominously in the light as he slowly raised it, savoring the moment.
"Oh, I think it's pretty much done," he sneered, his voice dripping with cruel satisfaction.
On the forest floor, Ryuichi struggled to move, his body battered and broken. Pain lanced through his arm as he tried to push himself up. He could see Haru barely standing, his Byakugan flickering weakly. His gaze fell on Fuyumi—helpless and moments away from death.
What's the point of it all?
The thought cut deeper than any blade. What's the point of all my training, all my talent, if I can't protect my friends? What good is being called a genius if I'm powerless when it matters most?
Memories of his past surfaced like cruel whispers: Tsunade praising his potential, promising he'd surpass her. His own vows to protect his team, his dreams of becoming a shield for the people he cared for.
Lies, he thought bitterly. All of it...just lies. I'm the same weak boy from the academy. Helpless.
His teeth clenched, tears threatening to blur his vision as Kushimaru's blade began its descent toward Fuyumi.
No. I wont lose her
A spark ignited within him, fierce and unrelenting. The shame, the fear, the despair—all of it burned away in the face of his resolve. His mind quieted, focusing on one singular truth:
If this is the last thing I do, I will protect her.
Something within Ryuichi shifted. His chakra surged like a wildfire, wild and untamed. The pain in his body dulled, his senses sharpening to an extraordinary level. Everything around him—the swaying trees, the subtle shifts of Kushimaru's stance, even the faint glint of the kunai—became impossibly clear.
And then, it happened.
For the first time in his life, Ryuichi felt his eyes awaken. The world transformed in an instant, colors sharpening, movement slowing to a crawl. He could see everything—every flicker of chakra, every movement Kushimaru made before it even happened.
Time didn't just slow—it bowed to him.
Without seals, without hesitation, Ryuichi vanished from the ground in a flawless shunshin, appearing above Kushimaru.
The masked swordsman's eyes widened in shock as he caught sight of Ryuichi descending like a hawk. He twisted his kunai, redirecting it toward the boy, but Ryuichi didn't stop.
His right arm came up, letting the blade pierce through flesh and bone. Blood sprayed as the kunai buried itself in his forearm, but Ryuichi barely flinched. He latched onto Kushimaru with his free hand, locking the man in place.
Kushimaru's sneer faltered. "You—"
Ryuichi's left arm cocked back, trembling as he poured every ounce of chakra into it. His Sharingan spun furiously, tracking every twitch, every movement, as his body pushed far beyond its limits.
The pain was excruciating. His arm felt as if it were tearing apart, his chakra network straining under the pressure. Blood dripped from his lip as he bit down to silence a scream.
Just a little more.
He could feel his body breaking, his muscles screaming in protest, but he didn't care. This was his last chance.
With a guttural roar, Ryuichi drove his chakra-enhanced fist forward. His hand tore through Kushimaru's torso like a spear, the sheer force obliterating flesh and bone. Blood erupted in a crimson spray, splattering across the clearing.
Kushimaru's body jerked, his head snapping back as he let out a strangled gasp. He coughed weakly, blood spilling from his lips.
"Such...strength..." he rasped, his voice barely audible. His legs buckled as his body crumpled, collapsing to the ground with Ryuichi falling alongside him.
Ryuichi hit the earth hard, his vision swimming. Every part of his body felt like it was on fire, his chakra reserves completely drained. But none of that mattered.
Through the haze of pain, his spinning three tomoe Sharingan caught sight of Fuyumi, still alive, her wide eyes staring at him in shock. Relief washed over him like a wave.
I did it. I protected her.
As darkness began to claim him, a faint smile tugged at his lips. The Sharingan in his eyes dimmed, but before it faded.
==Chapter End==
A/N:Hey everyone! I hope you enjoyed the first "C-rank mission"—it was an absolute blast to write. For those of you concerned that Ryuichi might seem too strong, don't worry—there will be significant consequences for using such an overpowered punch. Stay tuned! Also, a huge thank you for all the positive reviews. We've been reading every single one, and your support means the world to us!