There is something terrifying about watching masters fight.
No, not just because of their power, though that's frightening enough. It's because you will realize, at some point, that even at their level, they're still just people. Making choices. Breaking things. Breaking each other. Breaking themselves.
I used to think sealing was just about patterns and rules, clean lines drawn between what's possible and what isn't. But watching them fight, I finally understood what Gojō meant.
Sealing isn't just technique — it's poetry. Written in ink, light, and blood, each master adding their own verses to an endless scroll. Some verses end in triumph. Others in tragedy.
And of course, sometimes, the most dangerous poems are still being written.
封
印
21 — SEALING OF A DIFFERENT KIND
"I THOUGHT THE OLD LADY would reach you two first," Gojō said, and it sounded more like a veiled question than a statement.
Only silence greeted him. Naruto dropped his eyes.
"…I see," Gojō murmured after a pause, his voice lowering to something almost solemn. "Well, that's a damn shame."
A faint sheen of gold flared around him, illuminating the space with its brilliance. It shimmered like sunlight on rippling waves, carrying heat. Across the hull's shattered roof, a sheen of teal chakra rose to meet it, coiling around Ryūjin like a protective veil, smooth and deliberate. In contrast, Tenjin's aura surged forth in deep blue, sharp and cold like the depths of an unforgiving sea.
"Were you the one to do it?" Ryūjin asked. His voice was calm but the undertone of restrained fury was undeniable.
"And if I were?" Tenjin replied, softly, and with the weight of inevitability.
"Monkey Business," Gojō said, stepping forward confidently. "Form Five. Nure-Onna."
With a quick, fluid motion, he flicked his wrist to the side. The golden chakra condensed into a tall, womanlike construct that slithered and snapped like the mythical snake it was named after.
Ryūjin's gaze didn't waver. His teal aura shifted, flowing outward like a wave crashing against a cliff. "Flowing Moon," he called. "Silent Undertow."
Water pooled across the wreckage, untouched by flame — a relentless current moving in and from seemingly every direction at once, defying comprehension. Tenjin's blue chakra flared in answer, freezing the moment with tension thick enough to steal breath.
The three of them stood like mountains against the storm-dark sky, their presence so overwhelming that Naruto felt gossamer-thin in comparison, struck by a bone-deep sense of impermanence he couldn't name. Their chakra signatures blazed like newborn stars, so dense even Naruto could somehow see them, while his own flickered like a candle in the wind in comparison.
Perhaps it was the casual brutality he had witnessed tonight, the way life could slip away between heartbeats. Or maybe it was their boundless strength, always glimpsed from afar like the horizon itself — each step forward only revealing vaster distances yet uncrossed.
Something in him whispered that this couldn't last. The world, if it truly bore such terrible power, must be groaning under its own weight.
Watching these titans about to clash, Naruto couldn't envision a future that held such beings.
It felt as though he witnessed the twilight of the shinobi, their legacy etched in fire and blood across the endless night. A death rattle of sorts. The final breath of an era, burning fierce and bright before fading into myth.
Soon, there would be no more gods walking among mortals, no more demons cursing the living, no more symbols that could bend reality to their will.
And the world would turn onward, shedding these ancient arts like autumn leaves, toward a future with or without humanity in its pages.
"Hey," Gojō said, his voice cutting through this reverie like a blade through silk. "Naruto."
Naruto blinked, pulled from his thoughts. Gojō had called him by his name before, certainly, as he didn't only use nicknames — but everything felt so distant now, like memories from another life. "...What?"
"Give us a brief rundown," Gojō said, his usual playfulness replaced by something harder, more focused. The gravity in his voice made the situation feel even more surreal.
Tenjin laughed, a rich sound, but hollow like wind through ancient ruins. "Do you not trust your abilities, Gojō? How unlike you."
"We'd be fools to take our chances, especially with you," Ryūjin said. Water swirled around him in patterns too complex to follow, to attack, to defend, to control space.
"He..." Naruto swallowed thickly, trying to organize his thoughts through the haze of adrenaline and fear.
"Go on," Tenjin said amusedly. "Tell them."
"He can detonate things his hand — maybe his chakra — has touched. And... he can disrupt techniques. He has a Sealing Field, too."
The words felt inadequate to describe the devastating power he'd witnessed.
Naruto could almost feel Gojō's eyebrows rise into his hairline, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his usually composed features. "...Two full-on extension techniques, I take it? Damn, he really must be cracked in the head, then."
What's the connection?
"I assure you," Tenjin said easily, a smile playing across his lips. "I am perfectly sane."
Ryūjin snorted, the sound sharp with contempt. In response, his water crystallized into a hundred spears around Tenjin, each one catching the moonlight like polished glass. The air grew dense with anticipation, heavy with the promise of violence.
"I'm sure." Ryūjin said. "…And I'm sorry to see what has become of you, Tenjin."
Tenjin's smile widened, showing teeth. "Every great change requires sacrifice. You of all people should understand that."
The tension in the air reached a breaking point.
"Hardly."
"I thought so," Tenjin said and the nure-onna let out a shrill scream.
It was a horrible sound, something that froze Naruto in place. Only then did he realize Ryūjin had used water to shield his ears, that Tenjin had already summoned partial barriers to isolate himself from the noise.
The very next moment, both the creature and Gojō vanished — then materialized against Tenjin in an explosion of movement. It was speed beyond speed, something that Naruto had only seen being done by Shiori before. But even she couldn't compare to this sort of instantaneous violence.
Why, Naruto's mind screamed, why would a shikigami user charge in like this—?
Gojō's fists detonated through layers of supposedly impenetrable barriers like they were made of spun glass, crashing against Tenjin's wrist with a sound like thunder.
Naruto's mouth hung open. Most shikigami users were said to be weaker in close combat.
The impact seemingly sent ripples through the air itself. Tenjin's slight wince betrayed the first crack in his composure as he redirected the savage blow. This wasn't merely about strength — Naruto technically had known that Gojō had raw power in spades before, but while formidable, it couldn't be this.
No, this was his self-proclaimed "talent for breaking shit" in its purest form, treating mystical barriers like paper screens before a storm.
The nure-onna's tail enlarged, wide enough to flatten the entire area, and set to do exactly that.
When Tenjin tried to leap away, he found his legs bound by water.
Naruto's heart hammered as he watched the massive tail descend. Tenjin, despite his bound legs and slightly bent wrist, managed to weave three hand signs in rapid succession. The air around him crystallized into razor-sharp shards, slicing through Ryūjin's water bindings.
But unlike Gojō, it was too late for him to dodge completely.
The tail crashed down with devastating force. Tenjin crossed his arms, summoning another barrier that cracked like glass under the impact.
The hull beneath them cratered, sending chunks of metal flying in all directions. Through the dust cloud, Gojō's figure blurred forward, his fist wreathed in burning gold light.
Naruto's eyes widened as he tracked the movement. He'd seen chakra-enhanced speed before, but this was different. Each step Gojō took left traces of temporary seals in the air — not full formations, but fragments that somehow worked together, creating paths of least resistance through space itself. Reducing air friction?
The level of chakra control required to maintain such precise binds while moving at those speeds seemed unthinkable.
"Die," Gojō said, as lightly as a summer breeze.
Tenjin moved instantly, hands flashing through seals in a machine-like fashion. A lattice of ocean-blue light exploded into being, encasing him in a shimmering barrier.
But that smaller barrier, layered within his hand, was where the true danger awaited.
Naruto's breath caught as he recognized what he was seeing — the geometric patterns within it shifted constantly, each layer rotating in opposite directions, creating what he knew was a complex probability matrix. The kind of thing that should require at least three Sealweavers working in perfect sync to maintain.
It was the technique that had entrapped Shiori's arm mid-battle, ripping it clean off with ruthless precision.
The half-open seal gate now sought to devour Gojō's arm the same way.
No, potentially worse.
Naruto could see the mathematical precision of it — a perfect fusion of space manipulation and energy conversion arrays that somehow bypassed the normal limitations of both; seals that existed in states of both activation and dormancy until the moment of contact.
He opened his mouth to shout, but Gojō was already moving — faster than thought, faster than a warning. His fist met the barrier with a resounding crack, golden light radiating outward like a shockwave.
"Huh." Gojō's expression shifted to one of surprise.
That's it, Naruto thought numbly. His arm is gone.
The jaws of the seal snapped shut, shimmering lines biting into Gojō's arm. Naruto's heart stopped.
But Gojō's head only tilted, as though examining a minor inconvenience.
His chakra signature flickered in a way Naruto had never seen before — not weakening, but rather condensing, becoming so thick it seemed to bend light around his arm. The golden aura around his fist surged, and Naruto noticed something that made his blood run cold: Gojō wasn't just pushing chakra into the barrier. He was somehow inverting Tenjin's seal matrix from within.
With a deafening crack, the barrier splintered, fragments of blue energy scattering like shards of glass. Tenjin's eyebrows rose, and it was the first time Naruto saw true surprise flickering across his face.
Both men were flung apart by the force of the explosion, but Gojō landed first, already laughing. "Ha! That was it? I expected more bite." He flexed his fingers, inspecting his unscathed arm before locking eyes with Tenjin. "I learned to do this when I was sixteen!"
The boast wasn't just bravado, Naruto realized. The way Gojō had dismantled the barrier spoke of years spent understanding seal fundamentals at their deepest level, then learning to break them. Each movement had been precise, and targeted — not just brute force, but a perfect understanding of where a seal's weak points lay.
But that couldn't be, as Gojō only was… How old was he, again?
Ryūjin seized the moment when Tenjin's barriers dropped, conjuring a head-sized sphere of water to suffocate him. But the former master Sealweaver of Konoha hadn't earned his title by chance. The ethereal half-shroud surrounding him simply dissolved weaker chakra manipulations that came too close.
Naruto frowned, watching the water splash harmlessly to the floor. Something was off. A sealing master of Tenjin's caliber should have been able to seal away such a basic thing without thought. The fact that he hadn't...
Naruto's mind raced through the possibilities. Did Tenjin not bother? No, that was unlikely — leaving more water around for Ryūjin to manipulate seemed a terrible idea. Something else, then. Perhaps the complexity of maintaining multiple high-level techniques was taking its toll, forcing him to prioritize. Or maybe...
"Let us start over." Tenjin's hands blurred, weaving seals so fast they looked like a single motion. Around him, the air thickened with dark energy that made Naruto's skin crawl. It wasn't just the strength of the chakra; it felt like something deeper, more fundamental.
The kind of power that came from understanding the very fabric of reality and choosing to tear it apart for your own purposes.
Ninjutsu, Naruto wondered. Or Fūinjutsu, using hand seals as a basis?
Tenjin had been taught in Konoha, and there was no telling which form of combat he favored — if he even favored one at all.
A dome-like barrier materialized, shadowy tendrils lashing out hungrily. Each tendril was inscribed with seal fragments that shifted periodically. The implications were staggering — Tenjin wasn't just using seals, he was pushing them beyond their natural limits, forcing them to evolve mid-combat. Naruto had never seen constructs that could adapt in real-time like this.
No, he thought numbly. Maybe that's not true — Ryūjin's technique…
"Old man, your turn!" Gojō called out, dodging the first tendril with an effortless sidestep. A second tendril lunged for him, but his snake's tail struck out, scaly hide nearly golden with light as it coiled and deflected the attack.
Ryūjin responded immediately, hands weaving water from the very air. A spiraling vortex erupted at his feet, stronger near him, and growing in size and ferocity. With a commanding gesture, he sent it roaring toward Tenjin's barrier.
The vortex struck like a battering ram, its sheer force sending cracks spiderwebbing across the dome.
"Strong enough, to do that much, then," Tenjin quipped, as Gojō stepped into the fray again. With a flick of Tenjin's wrist, the tendrils tightened around the nure-onna, pulling it in opposite directions. He wasn't just trying to tear the shikigami apart, he was attempting to split its seal matrix — interlocking arrays that Naruto thought he could see hints of within the nure-onna's scales — at its foundational points, forcing it to become unstable at a structural level. "Let's see how well you do without your little pet."
Naruto could see the slight strain in his movements. Maintaining such precise control over multiple high-level techniques was taking its toll, forcing micro-adjustments in his chakra distribution with every passing second.
And Tenjin had already fought a battle earlier, too. Even then, he could still handle himself that well.
Ryūjin's jaw clenched. He slammed his palms to the ground, and glyphs erupted in glowing patterns. These weren't modern seals in any form or shape — they were something older, more primal. The kind of techniques that predated contemporary sealing, when the art was still raw and wild and dangerous; or more so, at least. The water surged in patterns unrefined, its force doubling as it hammered the barrier again.
Tenjin countered instantly.
Blackglass barriers sprang up around him, absorbing the vortex's force and redirecting it as explosive shards. Not just reflecting energy, the barriers were transforming it, altering its very nature through a process that should have been impossible outside of theory.
The fragments screamed through the air, forcing Gojō and Ryūjin to scatter.
"Crafty bastard," Gojō muttered, his grin not fading. His trapped shikigami shimmered brighter, pulsing with raw energy. Naruto could see the seal matrix within it becoming increasingly unstable.
Not from damage, not just from Tenjin's efforts, but by design.
Gojō was deliberately pushing it toward a critical point, turning the creature's entire structure into what amounted to a massive unstable seal array.
Tenjin's eyebrows rose again as he noticed it. "Truly...?" he asked. "Are you detonating your—"
Gojō did.
The nure-onna's explosion was a release of energy, yes. It was also a cascading failure of seal components, each one triggering the next in a chain reaction that superheated the air around it.
The blast was blinding, but more than that, it created ripples in the air that seemingly bent light and chakra alike. Gojō's laughter rang out, wild and unrestrained, as though it were his favorite thing in the world.
"Gojō!" Ryūjin shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "The anchor glyphs — now!" His hands were already moving, laying down a foundation of stabilizing seals that would prevent the airship from completely unraveling under the strain of their techniques.
"On it." Gojō's tone was maddeningly light as he surged forward, hands flashing through seals. His golden aura flared, brighter than the moon. "Monkey Business: Form One. Enkō."
Ryūjin raised his arms, summoning a towering wall of water. Seals danced across its surface, glowing brightly, each one precisely placed to amplify and direct the flow of power. "Sundering Wave!"
The water roared forward, each droplet shimmering with inner light — no, not just light, Naruto realized. A telltale sign of them being touched by Ryūjin's extension technique. Each droplet had become a carrier for a fraction of his seal work, turning the entire wave into a massive, distributed array...
But this was far beyond simple chakra extension — Naruto's mind raced through the possibilities. For seals to exist on something as small as water droplets, they had to be self-replicating.
Had Ryūjin prepared this water beforehand? No — Naruto could see the process happening in real time. The master's chakra was converting normal water into something else entirely, a substance that existed in a state between physical matter and pure chakra construct.
Perhaps each sealed droplet was acting as a nucleus, summoning more of that transmuted water, multiplying the technique's power exponentially. The mathematics of it made Naruto's head spin — it was like watching someone casually violate the conservation of energy, yet somehow maintaining perfect control over the cascading reaction.
Not for the first time, he wondered if this was the sort of thing he could have done himself, had he remained able to mold elemental chakra.
Could it be similar to Gojō's technique, a master seal that created other, usable constructs as its primary function? It felt different. Where Gojō's seals felt wild and intuitive, as though breaking rules half the time, when they didn't just ignore them outright, Ryūjin's work seemed more precise. Methodical, and standing on the shoulders of giants — centuries of tradition.
What the hell are these three?
Masters of the art, in three different ways.
Tenjin's hands blurred, geometric patterns blazing to life around him. "Barrier Art. Diamond Formation Three."
Counters-seals that adapted in real-time, too. Of course.
But Gojō was already moving, his shikigami Enkō a golden streak at his side, about his size. The monkey's elongated limbs — only two arms, Naruto noticed — twisted impossibly as it dove through gaps in the forming barrier. Its jagged fangs gleamed as they bit into key junction points of Tenjin's seals.
No bite was random, the shikigami was targeting specific nodes in the seal matrix, in a way only a chakra construct could. Introducing chaos into Tenjin's ordered system.
It weaved in and out, much like the water did, each swipe of its claws matched by similar gestures on Gojō's part as he conducted streams of ink by flicking it through the air; he was painting loose, deadly patterns with every motion, every splatter.
"Traditional barriers?" Gojō's fingers danced, drawing fragments of seals that Naruto decided shouldn't work together. "Learned from old Mito, I'm sure! After all your shit-talk!"
Although Tenjin noticed, there were too many variables he had to deal with to stop him right away.
The fragments spun, connected, and became something new — a crackling web, a counter-seal to counter a counter-seal, that ate through Tenjin's lattice like acid through paper, weakening even his shroud. It was seal cannibalism at its finest, each component of Gojō's technique consuming and incorporating elements of Tenjin's work.
Ryūjin capitalized immediately, his water spiraling out in maddening patterns.
"You're distracted!"
Tenjin assumed the man would attack from above, where deadly spires were already falling, but he didn't.
The ground beneath him liquified, not just physically but conceptually — the very boundary between solid and liquid becoming uncertain for just a moment. He leaped back, pushing against metal that behaved more like water than solid footing, hands already forming counters.
But Enkō was there again, those unnaturally long arms weaving through his guard and seemingly getting closer. Each movement of the shikigami carried traces of Gojō's wild style. And fury that Naruto hoped was its own.
"Twin Trigrams." Tenjin's voice rang out, a perfect octagonal barrier materializing instead of a more elaborate one. "Southern Heaven."
The barrier trapped the shikigami within itself, but Naruto could see this wasn't just containment — the octagonal shape wasn't chosen for aesthetics — as Enkō progressively slowed down. Eight of them, too? Did each angle correspond to a fundamental principle of sealing?
"Old man!" Gojō called as he vaulted backward, hands flashing through another set of seals. "That's as good as it gets!"
"Already ahead of you." Ryūjin's voice was calm when he slammed his palm into the ground. Water surged up in a sphere around the barrier, Tenjin, and the captive monkey.
With a two-handed motion, Ryūjin sent them all soaring into the dark night.
"Anchor!" Ryūjin called out, slamming both hands to the ground.
Increasing the water's weight? Naruto thought, as the sphere's trajectory immediately curved. Toward the sea — they intend to make him crash into the sea—
Gojō was already chanting.
"Mountain's core sleeps," he intoned. "Six arms awaken might."
The words echoed with primal weight, a force unto themselves.
A different sort of chant from Kūten, Naruto realized, and closer to the strange sort of poetry Gojō favored, which he assumed could have some sort of implications in terms of personal significance—
Naruto barely had the time to realize he was becoming all too much like the half-conscious Shinpachi he was dragging away from the fight before he felt the bite of cold.
"No—"
Inner and outer frost, which he could only attribute to one thing.
"Sealing Field."
Darkness crashed down like a tidal wave, suffocating and absolute. Gojō's expanding shikigami disintegrated mid-formation. Ryūjin's water dissolved into nothingness.
"Void Disruption Ward."
When the shadows parted, the water sphere and the monkey shikigami were gone. And Tenjin, who had managed to land both feet on the airship, stood bathed in the cold light of the moon. Its pale radiance seemingly bent around him, as if even light itself knew better than to touch him directly. He smiled faintly.
"You do not summon shikigami, do you, Gojō?" he asked. "You create them anew. And you bolster them with these chants of yours."
Gojō's grin lingered, but Naruto could see the tension behind it now — it was as much in his jaw as it was in the too-casual flex of his fingers. In Ryūjin's grim expression, he could see the slowly dawning realization they wouldn't necessarily live through the night.
The only sound Naruto could hear was the wind, but it had never felt more distant.
No one moved.
It all felt like a tightening noose. Every muscle in Naruto's body screamed to act, to do something, but instinct warned him that the next move would determine who lived to tell of this night.
Tenjin stood at the epicenter of it all, his presence oppressive and immovable as a mountain. The air around him shimmered with distorted energy, ancient and modern glyphs faintly glowing at his feet.
Naruto's mind raced, desperately trying to grasp the vastness of Tenjin's ability. Chakra disruption? It felt far more primordial, more sinister. It tore through the very foundation of every sacred Art: Shiori's Sealing Field; Gojō's and Ryūjin's intricate extension techniques. Like a shadow eating light, it consumed everything it touched, turning strength to ash.
Nothing was sacred under Tenjin's gaze, and it seemed as though even the laws of chakra were being turned on their head.
That feeling intensified with another wave of power, heavy as an ocean's worth of pressure; bearing down on them all.
Gojō — mighty Gojō — dropped to a knee, his eyes burning with frustration.
"Damn it!" he cursed through gritted teeth, feeling the invisible pressure building…
And the tension shattered like glass as Ryūjin suddenly moved.
One of his hands held a single seal, and his focus was razor-sharp.
Chakra flared around him tentatively, coalescing into a half-solid teal shroud that clung tightly to his frame. It pulsed unevenly, a haphazard blend of light and energy that seemed barely held together by sheer will. Even Naruto could tell it wasn't perfect. Not by a long shot.
But it was functional.
The incomplete barrier technique, warping light around itself like a heat haze, held firm against the crushing void.
"Coiling Dragon Heart?" Tenjin's voice rang out, sharp and mocking. "Oh my, you knew it? Do tell me who taught you to fumble your way into this old thing."
Naruto didn't know that technique. But from what Tenjin had said, it likely meant Ryūjin couldn't use his extension technique right now.
Ryūjin's eyes locked onto Tenjin, but there was no reply — only action.
Without hesitation, he propelled himself forward with an explosive burst, closing the gap between them faster than Naruto thought possible for him. But even in his full motion, it was clear — Ryūjin wasn't as fast as Gojō was. The weight of their earlier battles, his injuries, and the oppressive pressure of Tenjin's technique were catching up fast, too.
It meant that Tenjin was the obvious superior in this deadly dance.
His eyes glinted with cold amusement as he intercepted Ryūjin's strike effortlessly. The older man's kick collided with his arm — Tenjin caught it, yanking Ryūjin forward and slamming an elbow into his face. The sickening crack of bone echoed in the air before another blow came, swift and vicious, from Ryūjin's blind spot.
Before Naruto could blink, Ryūjin was on the ground, crumpled like a discarded rag. Tenjin's right hand closed around his throat with casual elegance, lifting him off the ground as if he weighed nothing at all. His fingers moved with practiced precision, inscribing a seal upon the other man's skin in spite of Ryūjin's best efforts at preventing that very same thing, his eyes narrowing as though his prey had long since lost its value.
"Worthless," he said. "You can go ahead and—"
It was then that Tenjin's gaze faltered.
But his eyes weren't on Ryūjin anymore.
They were on Gojō.
"...Truly?" Tenjin muttered, a note of genuine surprise coloring his voice.
Gojō, who was slowly standing. Unsteadily, a coiling golden light spiraled tighter and tighter around his frame. His chakra shimmered — fractured, leaking, even more imperfect than Ryūjin's — but undeniably there.
"…Bouncing your extension technique between meridian points, is that right?" Gojō asked. "That's the secret, then. Winding refined chakra tighter and tighter until it ignites."
There were seals etched into his left forearm — and considering the blood dripping from it, they had just been carved in it with a blade. It was a patchwork of a seal, and hastily constructed. Obfuscated, and falsely minimalist, too, but the sheer willpower in Gojō's eyes seemingly gave it substance.
Naruto's mind reeled. He learned it?
Gojō had just watched Ryūjin's technique, and heard Tenjin's vague, mocking words. In the heat of battle, he'd apparently grasped that spiraling compression and carved something of it into his own flesh. Perhaps a temporary binding (hopefully temporary) to shoulder the mental burden of maintaining that endless coil. It was absurd. The sheer audacity of it, in fact, took Naruto's breath away.
The same thoughts must have been going through Tenjin's mind, because his binding of Ryūjin halted.
A breath of hesitation. That was all it took, for an experienced shinobi.
Ryūjin twisted in Tenjin's grasp, water surging behind his knee in savage propulsion as he struck.
But Tenjin, too, was a trained ninja. The killing blow meant for his skull found his elbow instead, shattering it with a sickening crack. Tenjin staggered, his grip loosening.
He recovered with fluid grace, blurring backward to safety. With a grunt, he snapped his arm back into place — only to realize Ryūjin had done more than break it cleanly. Though he could still move it, he did so more gingerly than before.
"Well," Tenjin said after a pause. "That was the last time I gloated in front of you."
"Doubt it," Gojō said.
His technique was far from perfect — his barrier shroud was thin and chaotic, like a rushed sketch of Ryūjin's own. But it held. More than that, it learned. The golden energy crackled and shifted, each moment bringing small adjustments, small improvements.
Ryūjin, still wrestling with the explosive seal carved into his neck, having started with the most dangerous and volatile parts, shot Gojō a sidelong glance, his lips twitching into a brief, hesitant smile. "That's, uh…"
"Yeah?" Gojō's dark smile crept wider. "Pretty good, huh? Made it on the spot."
"No, I was about to say sloppy. And dangerous."
"Sloppy gets the job done." The grin bloomed full force. "I'll just carve it out and heal myself later."
"I'm sure."
Tenjin's voice cut through the banter. "I… am reluctantly impressed. Perhaps Nagato isn't the only one who has improved, then."
"Ha!" Gojō preened. "I see you have an eye for talent after all!"
"I did say you were my favorite, didn't I?" Tenjin smiled. "But let's see how long the bravado lasts."
"And if it never stops…?"
"Then you'll die as you lived," Ryūjin muttered.
Gojō barked a laugh. "That's all I ask for, old man!"
And so, when Tenjin's chakra twitched, they moved as one — three blurs rushing forward into the inevitable darkness:
Tenjin, reaching out with his right hand, keeping his left cocked back defensively; Gojō, a flash of golden murdering motion; and Ryūjin, who seemed more and more like the only half-reasonable man around.
It was a dance of violence, certainly, but it was a precise one.
Tenjin's right hand shot out first, fingers curled into a claw, aiming for Gojō's limbs with terrifying precision. Gojō weaved to the side with a fluid twist of his body, his momentum carrying him fearlessly into a spiraling kick aimed at Tenjin's ribs. Tenjin's left hand snapped up, deflecting the blow just enough to send it harmlessly to the side, but Gojō was already pivoting, his speed a relentless assault.
Ryūjin darted in from the flank, his movements slower but calculated, targeting Tenjin's exposed side with a palm strike imbued with a subtle ripple of water chakra. Tenjin shifted his weight effortlessly, pivoting to intercept the strike with his forearm. The collision sent a burst of displaced energy into the air, but Ryūjin didn't flinch. His other hand followed through with a knife-hand chop aimed for Tenjin's collarbone, forcing the younger man to disengage with a quick hop backward.
"You're still spry," Tenjin taunted, his lips curling into a smirk. "And here I thought you left all that behind."
Ryūjin's response was a low grunt.
Gojō took advantage of the brief exchange, darting in with a flurry of punches that seemed to come from all directions at once — his expression barely changing from that slight smile. His golden aura flared at each moment of contact, enhancing the sheer force behind every strike.
Tenjin's right hand struck like a serpent. He was using chakra reinforcement, Naruto realized with dawning horror. Something far more costly for the others trapped within his barrier. And there lay the true trap — they were burning through nearly as much chakra as Tenjin himself did to keep his Sealing Field up, just to maintain their defense.
He caught Gojō's wrist mid-strike, a perfect right-hand catch. The explosive seal blossomed instantly.
"I believe I have you now—"
Gojō cackled, twisting with the motion to deliver a sharp elbow strike with his free arm.
All of Gojō's aura seemingly pooled toward his wrist, unraveling the trigger at a speed greater than Naruto had ever thought possible — had he had the time to see and analyze it properly before, or was he just that quick to adapt?
Tenjin released him at the last second, narrowly avoiding the blow, and retaliated with a sweeping kick aimed at Gojō's legs.
Ryūjin was there before the attack could land, intercepting the kick with a loose block. Deliberate didn't cut it; each step was rooted in decades of experience. With a flick of his wrist, Ryūjin lashed out with a precise jab to Tenjin's sternum, who deflected it with his forearm; he staggered slightly from the force anyway.
Blood. Tenjin's. The jab had carried a water needle, and imprecise as that thing was, within the barrier — although the fact that he could use it at all was a testament to Ryūjin's mastery over the element — it had punctured Tenjin's chest slightly.
"You two move well together!" Tenjin said.
"Keep talking," Gojō quipped, sliding under Tenjin's next grab with catlike agility.
He then leaped upward, twisting mid-air to deliver a spinning kick aimed at Tenjin's head. The other man ducked, but Gojō's golden aura erupted to shroud his trailing leg mid-spin — an attack hidden within the first — leaving the rest of his body vulnerable and enhancing the strength of this one assault, forcing Tenjin to raise both arms in a crossed block. The impact sent him skidding back, his feet carving shallow trenches into the metal.
Tenjin extended his hand, and Naruto's breath caught as he noticed the man had imprinted a jagged spike of metal with his ability, impossibly close to Gojō and blossoming—
Before the attack could land, Ryūjin let out a guttural growl, raw with effort.
The ship shuddered violently beneath them, its deck tilting as it plunged downward in a stomach-churning drop. The sudden descent threw Tenjin off balance, forcing him to pull back.
From the shattered hull, towering jets of water erupted like geysers. The spray glittered under the moon's light, soaring higher and tearing through the ship's broken remains with a deafening roar.
Tenjin leaped back, narrowly avoiding a surge of water that would have engulfed him. The sheer power of the jets sent fragments of metal spiraling into the air.
With three heavy steps, Gojō recovered his balance, following along once he managed to get rid of the seals written upon his wrist.
Ryūjin pressed the attack, stepping into Tenjin's space and in between his own spires of water with a series of quick strikes that targeted the other man's joints and pressure points. Easier targets than Tenjin's vital spots, which Gojō — of course — chose to target. Ryūjin's movements were precise, leaving no wasted energy, but Tenjin's reflexes were uncanny — nearing Gojō's own. He parried Ryūjin's strikes with minimal effort, countering with elbow and knee strikes that kept the older man on the defensive.
Gojō surged back into the fray, all raw speed and power when compared to Ryūjin. He launched into a barrage of punches, elbows, and kicks that left little room for anyone to maneuver.
And yet, Tenjin moved with the grace of a dancer, weaving through the onslaught while his dangerous right hand darted toward Gojō, forcing the younger fighter to keep more distance than he would have liked.
"Not bad," Tenjin admitted, his voice almost light despite the flurry of blows.
"Not bad?" Gojō grinned, sweat dripping from his brow. "Is that it?"
Just how much chakra is he expending to keep himself running?
Ryūjin used the opening to step in, and his footwork was a masterclass in precision, nearly as good as Shiori's had been. He redirected Tenjin's balance with a subtle sweep of his leg. When Tenjin staggered slightly, Gojō capitalized, delivering a crushing cross to his ribs.
Although he let out a pained wince, Tenjin recovered from the blow with a burst of speed, grabbing the incoming Ryūjin's wrist with his left hand while his right darted toward the older man's shoulder.
Gojō was moving again, his golden aura flaring as he closed the distance in an instant. His fist connected with Tenjin's jaw, the force of the blow sending the man stumbling backward.
"You know?" Tenjin wiped a trail of blood from his lip, his smile unwavering. "I've never been too fond of two-against-ones."
"Yeah," Gojō said, cocking his head. "And I've said it before: you need some help, man."
Ryūjin snorted, his lips curling into the barest hint of a smile. "Don't get cocky, Gojō. This isn't over yet."
"Please, do not get the wrong idea," Tenjin said, weaving through hand seals. Gojō tensed, preparing to jump in again, but the dark barrier around them turning translucent stopped him. "I am well used to being outnumbered."
This sudden transparency was the shift. The only warning there was to be had. It meant Tenjin was dropping his technique. It should have been good news.
But the barrier itself didn't drop.
"Fall back!" Ryūjin barked, with all the intensity of sudden dread. "It's a—"
"Sealing Field," Tenjin finished, straining. His hands stopped moving, and a new barrier solidified around the first, even larger, with a sound like cracking glass.
Gojō lunged backward, golden energy erupting from his frame as he aimed to break through the two layers with raw power — a single, shattering strike. Ryūjin followed suit, chakra gathering in his palms as he prepared to shield them both while Gojō did so.
The two of them moved as one, coordinated by instinct and desperation, their combined force tearing into the edge of the field.
For a moment, it seemed like they might succeed. The barrier shuddered, its shimmering surface breaking under Gojō's focused assault.
And then, before anyone expected it, it simply disappeared.
"Wha—?!" Gojō exclaimed as his momentum carried him through the first layer too early.
No, not just carried him — his strike had triggered something in the barrier's destruction. The impact had apparently redirected part of their momentum, as though the barrier had been waiting for exactly this.
Ryūjin pivoted, chakra flaring as he leaped after him, but the new, expanded field caught them both before they could escape. At first glance, this larger field appeared weaker than the previous one, its dense energy spread thin, its oppressive force diminished...
No, Naruto realized, that was the trick. The barrier only seemed thin from the outside. All its power was focused within, folding inward into itself, and now it was feeding on the ruined barrier, and on stored energy from Gojō's powerful strike. What looked like destruction was actually part of its design.
The glyphs inside ignited with an ominous red light.
Not unlike Shiori's own.
"Crimson Collapse Array," Tenjin said, his smirk widening as his fingers twitched subtly. But it had taken a fair amount of power from him, if the beads of sweat running down his face were any indication. "Too early…?"
He had imbued his other technique — something that, judging by Gojō and Ryūjin's reactions, didn't seem like their own barriers could shield against right now.
Cursing, Gojō's hands flew through three seals in no time at all as he recovered, casting a burst of pale blue light that Naruto instantly recognized as a Reverse Flow Spiral barrier, and the slower Ryūjin did the same—
Tenjin's outer barrier pulsed once, and the glyphs detonated.
This time, the explosion was deafening. So loud Naruto thought his eardrums had ruptured. A concussive wave of energy shook the battlefield, catching Gojō full force. His hastily carved barriers cracked under the strain as he was thrown backward through the second layer. His golden chakra flickered and sputtered as he crashed into the ground. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he rolled to a painful stop.
But Ryūjin—
Naruto's breath hitched as the smoke cleared and Tenjin let the technique fade, his own breathing now slightly labored. Ryūjin was still standing, but his arms were gone, the sleeves of his dark shirt scorched and tattered. Blood poured from the uneven stumps, pooling at his feet in dark rivulets.
"Ryūjin!" Gojō shouted, struggling to his feet despite the tremors wracking his body. The seal on his arm was beginning to splinter, golden energy leaking from the cracks.
The older man's face twisted in pain, but he remained steady. His breathing was labored, and his chakra wavered, but his gaze was locked on Tenjin, who had taken a half-step back to steady himself, sweat now visible on his brow.
"Curse you," Ryūjin growled through gritted teeth, his legs trembling with the effort of staying upright. He was forcing the words out, too. "Two different Sealing Fields, and both, still at this level of power? And so soon after the first, too? The strain should have done you in."
Tenjin tilted his head, his expression a mixture of amusement and exhaustion. "What's wrong, old man? You still have your legs, don't you?" The words carried their usual mockery, but his voice had lost some of its earlier strength.
Ryūjin swayed slightly but caught himself, his remaining chakra surging around his body in uneven pulses. "Gojō..."
"I know," Gojō interrupted, his voice low and cold. He stepped forward, his golden aura intensifying, his smirk gone, his cracking seal pulsing with each step.
"Angry?" Tenjin raised an eyebrow, shifting his weight to his back foot. "You were the ones who came at me. I am just playing along."
"Hardly," Gojō spat, wiping blood from his chin. "I'm just mad I fell for it."
"I'm sure."
The battlefield grew still, the smoke from Tenjin's devastating technique curling away.
Ryūjin remained upright, though his arms were gone, blood painting the ground beneath him. His breath came in ragged gasps, but his eyes stayed fixed on Tenjin, defiant even in the face of overwhelming injury.
"Don't waste your healing on my wounds, Gojō," he managed. "Focus on offense."
Gojō stood several paces away, his golden chakra flickering unevenly. The smirk he often wore like armor was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his expression was cold, and calculating, his sharp gaze trained on Tenjin like a predator gauging its prey.
But a glimmer of doubt lingered in his eyes.
Smoke curled lazily around the combatants and, along with the fires, shrouded them in a suffocating haze.
Tenjin, by contrast, seemed almost serene. He stood at the epicenter of the devastation he'd wrought, hands clasped loosely in front of him, an affectionate serpent.
"Most impressive," he mused, voice carrying the warmth of a teacher praising a gifted student. "Two Sealing Fields, and you're both still breathing. Though..." His lips curved into something between a smile and a wound. "Calling that one 'whole' might be generous even by his previous standards."
"Don't waste your breath," Gojō snapped. "You won't be around long enough to savor it."
Tenjin smiled at that, a small, knowing curve of his lips. "Oh, Gojō. Always so fiery, so quick to leap into the fray without checking which way the wind blows." He gestured vaguely to Ryūjin, who stood rigid, barely holding himself upright, using chakra to try and prevent himself from bleeding out. "Look where it's gotten you. Your one ally is crippled, you're running out of chakra, and I'm still standing."
Gojō's aura flared, a desperate sun refusing to set. "So am I."
"For now." Tenjin tilted his head, studying Gojō as one might examine a particularly fascinating puzzle. "But let's not pretend this is an even match. I could continue this dance until dawn breaks. Could peel you apart, layer by layer, until there's nothing left but regret and ashes. Or..."
"Or what?" Gojō's voice had lost some of its edge, replaced by something dangerously close to curiosity.
Tenjin's smile grew sharper, more dangerous. "You know what my presence here means, don't you?"
Though Naruto didn't understand it, he saw the way Gojō's expression stiffened, the way his aura faltered for the briefest moment, and it sent a chill down his spine.
"Indeed. It's not just about circumventing the old ways anymore." Tenjin's voice dropped to a whisper that somehow carried across the battlefield. "I'm close. So very close to breaking the Oaths entirely."
Though Gojō's face remained carved from stone, his eyes betrayed him — a flash of recognition, of fear, of... possibility.
"You've suspected it," Tenjin continued, taking a leisurely step forward. "Perhaps that's why you rushed to face me with such enthusiasm. But then, I knew these pawns couldn't hold you for long." His gaze flickered to their surroundings, to the evidence of earlier battles Naruto couldn't see. "A man of your talents, with your... unique situation. Your position. You understand what this could mean for you."
"Don't listen!" Ryūjin's voice cracked like breaking glass. "He's poison, Gojō!"
"Am I wrong?" Tenjin asked, spreading his arms wide, a prophet offering salvation. "Despite your boundless potential, they treat you like something barely worth noticing. Less than the corpse-handlers, aren't you—?"
"There's nothing wrong with them," Gojō snapped, but the words rang hollow.
"Please," Tenjin scoffed. "Don't make me out to be some elitist. You know exactly what I mean. They don't see you. They never have. Never will."
"Like I don't already know that," Gojō muttered, but the fire had drained from his voice, leaving only bitter ash.
Naruto's breath hitched.
"Imagine it," Tenjin breathed, and terrifyingly, his enthusiasm seemed genuine. "True freedom. No more restrictions. No more chains of tradition." The word dripped with contempt. "No more bindings. What I'm discovering... I could share it. All of it."
"And why," Gojō's voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, "would you do that?"
"Why not?" Tenjin's gesture encompassed the ruin, as if the death and destruction were mere set dressing. As though the burning airship, this horrific night, Shiori and Aiko's deaths, Naruto and Shinpachi's fates, and everything else they fought for, were insignificant. "They worship Nagato while spitting on you. For what? An accident of birth? I recognize talent, Gojō. You're wasted with them, suffocating under their rules and prejudices. Join me, and you will never have to fight for scraps again."
The silence that followed was deafening.
When Gojō finally spoke, his voice was barely audible. "You really think I'd take an offer like that?"
"I think you're smart enough to consider it."
For the first time that night, Gojō had no retort. His stance softened, almost imperceptibly, but in that tiny movement lay volumes.
And Naruto saw it in full — the hesitation, the doubt. A seed of darkness planted in the cracks of Gojō's armor, one that could only bloom in the suffocating shadows.
"Think carefully," Tenjin murmured. "You can die here, chained to their broken ideals, or..."
"Die?" Gojō hissed. "By your hand?"
"Only Nagato needs to die now." Tenjin shrugged, the gesture so obscenely casual it was chilling. "The rest could live. Even that trash, if you wish — though he's still marked. The moment he moves against me..." His smile turned razor-sharp. "Well, you know what happens then."
"Gojō," Ryūjin wheezed, "please, don't waste your strength on—"
The loudness in Gojō somehow took Naruto by surprise. "Will you shut the fuck up?" His voice cracked like thunder. "I'm trying to keep you alive!"
"Only one shikigami at a time," Tenjin observed quietly. "That's your limit to this art, isn't it? Or perhaps... a self-imposed Restriction?"
Gojō's silence was answer enough.
"For now, at least," Tenjin continued. "Though we both know you won't be constrained that way for long—"
"You can shut up too," Gojō hissed.
"And of course," Tenjin pressed on, "the moment I extend my Sealing Technique again…"
"If you even can," Gojō countered. "How many times has it been?"
"Enough for one more, I think." Tenjin's smile never wavered. "So choose, Gojō. Attack me. Or heal your... friend." His voice softened to silk. "And ask yourself — for all his noble words, did the old man ever try to change things? Or was he too comfortable in his exile from Uzushio?"
There was only the whisper of dying fires.
Gojō stood rooted to the spot, his golden aura dimming to a faint shimmer. His fists trembled at his sides, blood from a gash on his brow dripping through his headband, streaking down his cheek and dripping onto the scorched ground.
Ryūjin stared at him. His face was pale, his breath shallow, and the pools of blood beneath him grew steadily larger.
"…Gojō," Ryūjin whispered, the word barely a breath. "Forget me. Kill him."
Tenjin merely shrugged. "Try, if you wish."
But Gojō remained still, his gaze locked somewhere on the horizon beyond the battle, as if seeing possible futures unfold before him. Finally, he stirred.
Slowly, deliberately, he wiped the blood from his face with the back of his wrist. The golden aura around him sputtered, then roared back to life — but something was different now. Something raw and untamed burned at its edges.
"…Damn it," he muttered. He took a step forward, and the ground beneath him cracked, his aura rippling outward in waves. "Damn it all."
The air split with a sound like tearing silk. Golden energy unspooled from his hand, delicate yet impossibly powerful, spiraling upward into an ethereal form.
"Monkey Business. Form Three," he intoned, his voice hollow, as if something fundamental had broken inside him. "Yūrei."
The shikigami materialized, a spherical wisp, its gold and blue light casting strange shadows across the blood-soaked ground. Luminescent threads began weaving around Ryūjin's broken form, knitting together wounds that should have been fatal. More importantly, a barrier of pure energy formed around Tenjin's mark, saturating it with Gojō's chakra, preventing its detonation.
"Oh," Tenjin's eyebrows rose slightly. "You chose both. How... characteristic."
Ryūjin's eyes fluttered closed, his voice barely a whisper. "…Why? He's right about me, you know."
"I don't know," Gojō said, bitterness etching each word. "I don't fucking know anymore."
The healing — and the shielding — came at a cost. The golden light surrounding Gojō dimmed with each passing second, drawn away by both the shikigami and the defensive aura he maintained. His shoulders sagged, breath growing shallow.
"You should have let him die," Tenjin said, almost gently. "Mercy is a blade that cuts both ways."
Gojō didn't answer.
Tenjin tilted his head. "It was hardly your best decision, truly."
"I'm aware."
He pressed his thumb to his palm, chakra flaring as a hidden seal activated. A flash of light erupted, and when it faded, a blade rested in his grip. Its edge gleamed like a shard of frozen starlight, impossibly sharp and cold.
"This," Gojō said quietly, "is a relic from Hatenomizu. 'Priceless'. 'Sacred'." His exhale was shaky. "…And yes, Nagato was right. I did steal it."
Ryūjin managed a weak grunt.
"Yeah," Gojō murmured. "Figured it'd be worth something one day."
Naruto almost heard the unsaid 'like me.' There was no humor in Gojō's tone, no trace of the usual cocky bravado. It felt like the truest, most honest version of him.
He lifted the blade, grip steady as stone. The weapon caught what little light remained, its edge drinking in the golden glow of his chakra. For a moment that stretched like eternity, he stood motionless, a man balanced on the knife edge of destiny.
Under them, the airship's massive hull groaned. As Ryūjin's strength ebbed away like the tide, his technique faltered, and the vessel began the last phase of its inexorable descent. The rushing air carried a bitter symphony — the crackle of dying fires, the whisper of ash, the metallic tang of spilled blood. Each gust felt like the breath of the dying.
Gojō's gaze turned back to where Tenjin waited, casual as a serpent in the sun, and his own expression was unreadable.
Tenjin's voice sliced through the pregnant silence. "Do you even know how to use that?"
"No," Gojō said. The word fell from his lips like a death knell, simple and absolute.
Then stillness shattered.
When Tenjin's chakra rose, so did Gojō's. His golden aura, which had guttered like a dying flame moments before, roared to life again, a blazing inferno. Gold light, erupting from every pore, not the controlled brilliance of before, but something primal and desperate. It was, in turn, swallowed by the sword. The ground shattered beneath his feet as he launched himself forward.
The blade in his hand cut through the air, a streak of pure, deadly brilliance aimed straight for Tenjin.
i/Mn9H2v : Gojō's Decision
i/MnqE9x : Extra — Naruto: On Gojō, Who Holds Their Fates
Annex — On Sealing Fields II
Sealing Field
A sophisticated barrier technique that creates a defined space in which the user can bind (seal) a technique. The field itself acts as both container and amplifier, allowing the sealed technique to persist without direct maintenance from the user. The effectiveness of a Sealing Field depends on several factors:
Core Mechanics
The field creates a spherical, polygonal or dome-shaped barrier of variable size. It requires extremely precise meridian control to establish and maintain, and can be anchored to fixed points in space or tethered to its user. The field preserves the sealed technique's effects within its boundaries.
Limitations
The technique imposes a high mental strain and energy cost to maintain. It has a significant cooldown period between uses and can be overtaken by another Sealing Field. The field can be disrupted by specific counter-techniques, and its effectiveness decreases with distance from anchor points. Additionally, field strength generally deteriorates over time.
Advanced Applications
Users can seal different techniques within barriers, though this increases strain exponentially. Masters can layer fields, though this is extremely rare due to the mental burden. Some practitioners have developed the ability to modify the field's shape for specialized applications. It is also possible to implement conditional triggers for automated field responses.
Coiling Dragon Heart
An ancient counter-technique specifically developed to limit a Sealing Field's effect. Its effectiveness stems from its unique approach of using the practitioner's extension technique to create a powerful barrier of their own, a pseudo-Sealing Field, although one only extended to themselves.
Core Mechanics
The technique creates a barrier that shields its user from a target field's effects. It requires the user to possess and maintain an active extension technique, along with advanced meridian control. The barrier generates an inner resonance of its own.
Limitations
The technique prevents the user from using their extension technique while active and has a high energy cost to maintain. There is a high possibility of chakra leakage, which increases with technique duration and power. The technique has to be cast to designate the exact effect it shields against during activation. The field strength generally deteriorates over time and can be overtaken entirely. It cannot be used directly after using a Sealing Field technique and may cause meridian damage if maintained for too long.
Advanced Applications
Advanced practitioners of this technique can maintain partial extension technique access while the barrier is active.
Compiled from the original texts of Master Mito of the Kizoku-ke, Year 174 of the Fire Cycle. With additional annotations and practical applications.
Annex — On Notable Figures of the Era
Tenjin of the Thousand Barriers
Rank: S-Rank
Affiliation: Konohagakure
Profile
Renowned for his unparalleled expertise in barrier techniques[1], Tenjin stands as one of the foremost masters of sealing arts in the shinobi world. His ability to maintain the fabled Seven-Layer Heavenly Barrier Formation[2] is a testament to his precision and sheer power, a feat few shinobi dare even attempt. His presence has proven an effective deterrent against aggression on multiple occasions. Tenjin currently serves as Konoha's master Sealweaver[3], a position of immense responsibility and prestige.
Ryūjin the Tide Caller
Rank: A-Rank
Affiliation: Uzushiogakure
Profile
A veteran of numerous battles[1], Ryūjin is famed for his exceptional manipulation of water-nature chakra. His ability to employ large-scale water techniques[2] with remarkable chakra efficiency has made him a key figure in Uzushiogakure's military strategies. Though his records emphasize his skills on the battlefield, Ryūjin is also noted for his strategic acumen and ability to work in harmony with allies, embodying Uzushio's ideals of unity and adaptability.[3]
Uzumaki Gojō
Rank: C-Rank
Affiliation: Uzushiogakure
Profile
Classified as a C-Rank shinobi — by Uzushiogakure's authorities, nonetheless — Gojō's skill set is rather interesting. His specialization lies in shikigami techniques[1] combined with high-level usage of Fūinjutsu[2], marking him as a promising figure among Uzushio's Sealweavers[3]. While his official rank might suggest a modest standing, the depth of his techniques and his role in advancing sealing arts reflect significant potential for growth.[4]
From "A Census of Shinobi: Notable Figures of the Era"
From the Records of Okabe Takeshi, Chief Archivist of Nagashi, during the Month of Steel.
AN: There we go! Thought you could avoid the info dumps forever, didn't you...?
Next chapter: Outcasts